Liam by Cynthia Woolf Page B

going to walk all the way to Doc Cochran’s office and return the accursed things. Of course, she would thank him nicely for their use.
    Liam came around to see her every two or three days and she had to admit she liked the attention. He made her feel as young as a school girl with her first crush. Only this was more than a first crush. She was falling in love with the man, much to her consternation. Yes, he wanted to marry her. No, he didn’t love her. Could she live with that? Or could she make him love her back? She was betting on the latter, though her womanly wiles were woefully lacking.
    He was coming tonight and it would be the first time they would actually go out. She wanted to go to the hotel for dinner and then to the new Deadwood Theater, operated by showman John Langrishe, to see a stage play. She’d never been before, and excitement had her bouncing with joy around her room.
    Tonight she wore her light blue shirtwaist with black skirt and jacket. She thought the blouse made the blue of her eyes more vibrant. She didn’t have a bustle. Although they were the fashion of the day, it was not very practical to her way of thinking.
    She checked her reflection in her hand mirror. Thinking she looked a little pale she pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to give them a little color. She saw no need for the cosmetics some women used, her way gave her enough color so she didn’t look dead.
    She piled her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, leaving tendrils to curl around her face. Liam like her hair that way and she had to admit it was more comfortable than the tight bun she usually wore.
    “Eleanor. I’m here. Are you ready?” called Liam from the outer chamber of the tent.
    “Yes. I’m coming.” She put on her coat, hat and gloves. Checked her reflection in the mirror one last time and, satisfied, went to meet Liam.
    He waited for her at the back of the congregation section of the tent, looking as handsome and dapper as he always did when he came to call.
    She stopped at the top of the aisle.
    “Look,” she performed a pirouette and then walked to him with nary a limp.
    He grinned. “You got rid of your crutches. Congratulations.”
    She nodded. “Today. Doc Cochran pronounced me healed.”
    “That’s wonderful news.”
    She thought he was going to give her a hug, but he lifted her by the waist and swung her in a circle with joy.
    She held on tight. “Liam, put me down.”
    Laughing, he set her on the dirt floor but didn’t let her go. Instead he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his own, his mouth slanting over hers
    He surprised her and she started to pull back but he followed her and she surrendered to her heart and his sensual onslaught. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her body flush with his. He was all hard muscle and strength against her soft curves.
    Taking what she willingly gave, they feasted on each other. Each giving. Each receiving. Finally, she pulled away.
    “Liam, what are we doing? We can’t.”
    He placed his fingers gently against her lips. “Shh. We’re only kissing. It may be a little soon but I couldn’t resist those luscious lips of yours any longer.”
    “You think I have luscious lips?”
    “Yes. You do.” His voice became softer and to her ear, deadlier, “And if you dare to tell me you are plain or unattractive again, I may just throttle you.”
    “I take exception to you throttling my daughter, though I do agree with you.” Reverend Smith walked up the aisle toward them.
    Liam released Eleanor and quickly stepped away from her.
    “Sir, I, ah…”
    “Oh, calm down Liam. I don’t object to you kissing Ellie. You’re going to be married in a couple of months, I suppose it’s about time she got her first kiss. And I agree with you. She’s beautiful inside and out.”
    “Yes, sir,” grinned Liam.
    He watched Eleanor turn scarlet.
    “What have I told you about calling me, sir? My name is Nathaniel.”
    “Yes, sir, er,