Thimbles And Thistles (Baker City Brides Book 2) Page 10

  Ian caught up to her and pulled her to a stop again. “Tonight works well for me, Maggie. Give me a moment to put on some clothes. Although I don’t mind wearing naught but a towel, it might create quite a stir if the folks in town saw us together with me in such a state.”

  Maggie’s face turned a vibrant shade of red. “Come to the shop when you’re sufficiently ready. I’ll head back now.”

  “Och, lass. Hold yer horses.” Ian’s brogue thickened as he took her elbow and escorted her up the steps to his front porch. “Wait yerself right here and I’ll be back faster than ye can think of three names to call me.”

  Ian disappeared inside his house, but not before Maggie caught a good glimpse of his legs. The conceited man was right. They were legs that would give any woman a moment of pause. Truthfully, it would be more than one moment. Those legs might even make a few women keel over. Shapely, muscled and strong, they drew her attention almost as much as his bare chest.

  Unsuccessful in her attempts to block the nearly naked vision of Ian MacGregor from her mind, goose bumps rippled over her flesh while her cheeks continued to burn with heat.

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a man’s form before. After all, she’d been married to Daniel for four years. However, comparing the two men was like comparing day to night.

  Daniel was shy, quiet, and sweet. He wasn’t a tall or powerfully built man, but he’d been her man and she’d loved him with all the love her girlish heart possessed.

  Ian was outgoing, confident, boisterous, and fun. He was tall, brawny, virile, and everything a woman could dream of in a man. Reluctantly, Maggie admitted Ian stirred longings and desires in her she’d never experienced.

  It had to be because she was older. Because she knew how wonderful it was to love and be loved by the person who held your heart. Because she’d spent ten long years alone.

  She took hold of her thoughts and dragged them into submission before Ian reappeared on the porch, fully dressed, with a cocky gleam in his eye.

  “I suppose I don’t need to model my kilt for you, now that you know I have the finest set of legs this side of the Rocky Mountains.”

  Maggie grinned and shook her head as she took the arm he offered. “I don’t know that they are grand enough to earn the title of the finest.” He escorted her down the walk and across the meadow to the mill. “The fact remains, Ian MacGregor, that you are entirely too full of yourself.”

  “That’s what my mother always says.” Ian chuckled. “She did her best to deflate my ego, but there it is just the same.”

  Maggie laughed at his teasing and relaxed a little. He did his best to put her at ease after the awkwardness of her coming upon his evening bath.

  With the large bathtub he had in the house, she wondered why he bathed in the river. If she had access to such a tub, she’d fill it with hot water and fragrant soap bubbles and soak in it until her fingers wrinkled up like raisins. The steam would relax her tired muscles and the luxury of the experience would make her feel like a queen.

  Since she doubted she’d ever have the opportunity to experience such a thing in her lifetime, she focused her attention back to Ian’s conversation about her day.

  “There’s a new family in town. Have you met Mr. and Mrs. Morrow? They arrived a few days ago. The mother and her two daughters came by the shop today,” Maggie said as they walked toward her store.

  “Did they buy anything or place an order with you?” Ian marveled at Maggie’s business sense. She kept a number of ready-to-wear pieces in her shop and accepted custom orders. She also offered everything from gingham and calico to expensive silks and velvets, making sure she catered to a variety of budgets.

  “The mother bought a hat and the girls each bought a pair of gloves. The oldest daughter indicated she’d like to order a dress although she didn’t place an order.” While Mrs. Morrow and her younger daughter seemed pleasant, the older daughter exhibited a haughty, unpleasant demeanor. Maggie figured the girl was probably in her early twenties. Since she was remarkably pretty, Maggie assumed the young woman’s attitude was why she remained single.

  “Did you like them, lass? Were they nice people?” Ian hoped Maggie would make more friends of the female persuasion. Her friendship with Thane and Jemma pleased him although her close friendship with the sheriff continued to disturb him more than he cared to admit.

  “I liked the mother and the younger daughter well enough.”

  “What about the other daughter?” Ian studied Maggie as she unlocked her back door and stepped inside. The aroma of roasting meat drifted down the stairs, making his stomach growl. He grinned as she shook her head at him. They hurried up the stairs to her apartment. “Was she unkind to you, Maggie?”

  “Not exactly. She just didn’t seem like someone I’d like to know.” Maggie slipped an apron over her dress and washed her hands. She checked the food she’d left simmering on the stove and started to drain the potatoes.

  Ian took the pan from her and completed the task. He picked up the potato masher she’d left on the counter and went to work. “Was she pretty?”

  “I suppose you could say that.” Ian’s question irritated her. What did it matter if she was pretty or not? Why did he care?

  “Was she young?”

  Maggie glared at him as she stirred a pan of gravy. “I’d guess her to be twenty or so.”

  “Blond hair or brown?”

  “Blond.”

  “Hmm.”

  The spoon in her hand stilled as she narrowed her gaze. “What does ‘hmm’ mean, Ian MacGregor?”

  “Nothing, Mistress Dalton. Not a thing.”

  “Humph!”

  Ian chuckled, amused he’d ruffled Maggie’s feathers. He couldn’t keep from goading her a little now that she was already miffed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous. Is that it? A sweet little young thing pranced into your store and reminded you of the good old days before you were so long in the tooth.”

  Maggie’s eyes sparked with anger and she opened her mouth to say something then snapped it shut.

  “What? You’re not even going to tell me to mind my own business or some such thing?” Ian finished mashing the potatoes and set the masher in the sink.

  “You’re trying to prod me into one of your arguments and I’m not rising to the bait. Besides, at almost twenty-nine I’m hardly ready to get in line for a set of false teeth like Mrs. Coffman wears, hobble about with a cane, or smell like camphor.”

  Ian placed a hand to his back, bent over, and pretended to be a teetering old man as he walked around the kitchen.

  Maggie laughed and shook her spoon at him. “One of these days, Ian, you’re going to push me too far.”

  He walked up behind her until only a hint of space remained, then tipped his head down so his breath blew warm on her neck and ear. Goose bumps exploded on her skin, and he experienced a moment of prideful pleasure, knowing he’d created the reaction. “One of these days I intend to do just that, Maggie, lass.”

  Flustered, she dropped the spoon in the gravy and snatched a fork from the counter to fish it out.

  Ian poured glasses of milk and sliced the roast while she dished up the rest of the meal and set it on the table in silence, disturbed by his presence and his promise.

  While they ate, she asked about his upcoming trip to Portland. Upon discovering it was his first trip to the big city, she suggested a hotel in a nicer part of town where she’d stayed. She’d visited the city two years earlier to purchase fabric for her shop and meet the new supplier in person. Tully had accompanied her to make sure she stayed out of trouble.

  “Just make sure you don’t get shanghaied,” she warned Ian as they finished their supper.

  “Shanghaied? In Portland?” Dubious, he waited for her to offer more details.

  “Portland has a reputation for being a place where sailors are shanghaied. Tully said it’s a growing problem the local authorities are struggling to bring under control.”

 
“I’ll be sure to be careful, lass. Would you miss me if I ended up on a ship bound for the Orient, never to be heard from again?” Although his tone was teasing, he was quite serious with the question.

  “Of course I’d miss you. Who else would insult me, torment me, and parade around indecently exposed? I’m sorry, Mr. MacGregor, but I don’t think I could find someone to fill the position if you left it vacant. It’s best if you return home and continue on as you have been.”

  “Is that right, lass? In that case, I’ll not even take time to explore the city. I’ll jump on the first train headed this direction as soon as I conclude my business meetings.”

  As he spoke, Ian’s eyes glowed with something Maggie was afraid to define. To distract herself, she rose from the table and sliced into a rich, creamy custard pie. She’d whipped egg whites into a frothy meringue topping and lightly browned it in the oven.

  “I hope you like custard pie with meringue,” Maggie said as she set a wedge of the dessert in front of Ian.

  “As a matter of fact I do. I haven’t had a piece for a long while, though.” Ian waited until Maggie sat with a serving of the dessert in front of her before slicing off a bite and letting the flavors explode on his tongue. “Maggie, that is so good. Thank you for the treat.”

  Delighted he liked the pie, she smiled. “You’re welcome.” Although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she enjoyed cooking for Ian. He always complimented her efforts and acted as though he’d never eaten anything as good as what she served him.

  After Ian had a second slice of pie and helped her with the dishes, they went down to her store. Maggie left his suit hanging in the changing room and directed him to try it on.

  She went into the workroom to wait for him, concerned about the propriety of having him alone in her store after hours. Especially when he’d strip down to nothing but his drawers to try on the suit.

  Memories of seeing his legs such a short while ago almost propelled her to the front of the shop in hopes of catching a glimpse. Regardless of her longings, she remained in the back, straightening bolts of already neatly arranged fabric.

  “Maggie?” Ian’s voice called her to the front of the store. She entered and glanced over to where he stood in front of the big mirror that went from the floor to almost the ceiling.

  At the sight of the dashing figure he cut in the fashionable suit, her breath caught in her throat. Her gaze collided with his in the mirror and he offered her a roguish wink as he fussed with his tie.

  “What do you think, lass? Will I make a good impression on my trip?”

  Numbly, Maggie nodded. She walked over to Ian and forced herself to focus on the suit, not how handsome the man wearing it appeared. The blue tones in the topcoat and vest accented his coloring. However, the sapphire blue tie added a vibrant sparkle to his eyes. She’d known the minute she’d seen the fabric it was the perfect color for him.

  “I think…” Maggie tugged on a sleeve and adjusted a shoulder seam. “You’ll make a very good impression.” She knelt and studied his pants, pleased she’d hemmed them at just the right length. “In fact, you may need to take a stick with you to beat off the single women when they catch sight of you, Mr. MacGregor.”

  “Maybe you should go along, to serve as a buffer. They wouldn’t accost me with a beautiful woman at my side, would they?”

  Maggie shook her head. “You shall have to fend them off yourself, Ian.” She stood back and studied him from his unruly tousled hair to the toes of his boots. “You look quite respectable, if I do say so myself.”

  “It’s a fine suit, Maggie. One of the finest I’ve ever had. It fits perfectly, too. Nothing binds or itches, which is of the utmost importance, in my humble opinion.”

  “When is your opinion ever humble, Ian?” Her laughter floated around him. “I’m glad you like it and it fits you well. Stretch your arms, just to make sure it moves with you like it should.”

  Ian rolled his broad shoulders and flexed his arms, drawing Maggie’s eye to his powerful muscles. He stretched out one long leg then the other, making sure his pants fit well. “May I pay you now, Maggie? You really did do a verra bonny job on my suit and I’m most pleased.”

  “Yes, you may pay me, at least after you’ve changed.”

  While Ian removed the suit and dressed in his work clothes, Maggie wrote a receipt for him. When he walked over to the counter where she waited, she had it ready.

  He tried to pay her more than what she declared a fair price, but she refused. “Ian, I won’t take your money at all unless you stop this nonsense and pay the price I set, not a penny more.”

  “You drive a hard bargain and not at all to your benefit. If you’re so reluctant to take the money of all your clients, it’s a wonder you stay in business.” Ian gave her the exact amount due and pocketed the rest of his money.

  Maggie adjusted his suit on a hanger and handed it to him. “I gladly accept money from my other clients, but I don’t have an overriding sense of guilt that I ruined their clothes and created the need for new ones.”

  “I’ve already told you, the splash in the river was my own carelessness, no fault of yours.” Ian took her hand and pulled her from behind the counter. “You know, when I return from Portland, it will be time for the spring dance. Are you still certain you won’t accompany me?”

  “Ian, we’ve been over this before. I can’t…”

  He placed his fingers to her lips, silencing her. “I know. You can’t encourage the bachelors in town who would beat down your door if they thought there was any hope you’d welcome their attentions. I understand, Maggie, I do.”

  Maggie stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek then walked him to the door. “Have a pleasant evening, Ian. In case I don’t see you before you leave, please be safe on your trip and hurry back home.”

  Ian’s skin tingled where her lips brushed his cheek. He gave a brief thought to not washing the spot until he received another kiss then decided it was entirely childish to entertain such an idea. Bemused with himself, he grinned and kissed Maggie on the forehead. “Stay out of trouble, lass. I’ll expect to hear all about the lovely and troublesome Miss Morrow when I return.”

  “Oh, go on with you.” Maggie gave him a shove out the door and waved as he looked back at her before he turned the corner at the end of the alley.

  Chapter Ten

  Ian’s meeting in Portland went better than he anticipated. He wrapped up business half a day earlier than he expected. Rather than rushing to catch a train back to Baker City, he decided to use the unexpected time to explore the city.

  As he strolled down a busy street, he glanced in store windows thinking of Maggie.

  The widow not only tormented him in his dreams at night, but also during his waking hours.

  Every finely dressed woman he saw made him think of Maggie’s talents with thread and a thimble. Every dark-haired beauty he passed on the street put him in mind of Maggie’s lustrous curls. Every hint of sweet perfume made him wish he could hold her close and breathe in her decadent scent.

  If only she returned even a meager portion of the overwhelming feelings his heart harbored for her, he’d be deliriously happy.

  The look of shock and awe on her face mingled with embarrassment the day she caught him bathing in the river gave him hope. From the way she kept blushing and couldn’t look him in the eye, perhaps she wasn’t completely immune to him or his charms.

  Over the last few weeks, she had finally started calling him Ian instead of Mr. MacGregor. She’d invited him to eat with her a few times. He’d even coerced her into dining at one of the restaurants in town with him one evening. She’d fussed and fumed at him for insisting she go, but he knew she enjoyed the meal.

  The spot she’d kissed on his cheek tingled anew every time he thought of that brief, chaste contact. If he’d known her intentions to peck his cheek, he would have turned his head and made sure it landed on his lips.

  As he imagined the sweet, ripe flavor of her kisses, his mout
h began to water and heat coursed through his veins.

  He wished someone had warned him that falling in love was such a painful, amazing, confusing, heart-wrenching thing that seemed to get worse instead of better. It had to get better at some point, though, or people like Thane and Jemma wouldn’t be so utterly devoted to each other. Oh, sure, he’d caught them arguing a few times, since they both were stubborn and opinionated. Despite their differences, they were respectful of each other even when they were angry.

  The deep, abiding love the two of them shared is what Ian wanted for himself. If Maggie would give him a chance, they could find their way to life-long happiness, like their friends.

  From information Thane shared, though, Maggie had declared she’d never fall in love again and planned to spend her life upholding her vows to her deceased husband. While honorable in theory, it didn’t play out well in reality. Everyone needed to be held, and comforted, and loved.

  Ian was certainly no exception, hungry as he was for Maggie’s affection and attention.

  A display in a store window caught his eye and he walked inside. Twenty minutes later, he walked out with a smile and a gift for Maggie in his pocket.

  Maybe the way to winning her heart could start with a few thoughtful gifts. With that in mind, Ian spent the afternoon shopping. Satisfied with the gifts he found for her, he walked back to his hotel and ate in the dining room. After engaging in a friendly discussion with a few men also in town on business, he retired to his room.

  On the train trip home to Baker City, he had plenty of time to plot out a courtship designed for winning Maggie’s heart.

  He’d barely stepped off the train to the platform when a violent blast rattled the windows in all the storefronts and shook the ground.

  Ian watched a great cloud rise to the sky from the direction of one of the nearby mines. Concerned, he decided to hurry home and change. He would ride out to the mine and offer his help in case there was trouble.

  Jogging down the street through town, he saw Maggie jerk open her shop door and look around. She noticed him and started his direction so he ran over to her.