as she patted Catherine on the back. Then, she leaned forward and said in a low tone, âBut the real question is, was he any good where and when it counted?â
âRebecca!â Catherine gasped, trying her best not to think about just how good he had been there.
Though why Rebeccaâs words continued to shock her after all these years of knowing her, she couldnât imagine. Rebecca had never had an ounce of shame in her.
But then, it was her outspokenness Catherine liked most of all. She always knew where she stood with Rebecca. Her friend never held anything back. And after having lived with her husband and his secrets, she found Rebeccaâs candor a true blessing.
Suddenly a knock sounded on the door.
Catherine wrung the suds off her hands, then wiped her hands dry on her apron. âWhy donât you go on to bed?â she said, rolling her sleeves back down her forearms and buttoning them against her wrists. âIâll get the door. Iâm sure itâs just someone needing a room.â
âPoor soul to be out on Christmas Eve without a bed,â Rebecca said. She inclined her head to the sink. âYou sure you donât want me to finish up the dishes?â
Catherine shook her head. âThere are only a handful left, and we already have all the gifts under the tree. Why donât you just go and enjoy whatâs left of Christmas Eve?â
âAll right, then. Iâll look in on the kids and then retire. Let me know if you need me.â
âI will.â
Rebecca headed to the back stairs while Catherine took the lantern off the kitchen table and walked down the narrow hallway to the front door.
Through the lace curtains, she could see the outline of a tall man with broad shoulders.
A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Perhaps Rebecca would get her wish after all.
Rolling her eyes at the very indecent thought that flicked across her mind, Catherine opened the door.
She took one glance at the handsome stranger, who had his head turned to look at his horse, and dropped the lantern straight to the floor.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
OâConnell cursed as the lanternâs fire exploded on the pine boards of the porch. Reacting without thought, he dropped his black Stetson and saddlebags, and stamped at the flames, his spurs jingling loudly as he stomped. Then, to his chagrin, the flames spread to his boots and set fire to the toes of his left foot.
He hissed in pain as he whipped his black duster off and put out the fire on his smoking boot. Then he quickly used the duster to extinguish the rest of the fire.
Luckily, the fire didnât do much in the way of permanent damage, but the porch and door would need a good washing come morning.
âGood Lord, woman,â he snapped as he surveyed the damage. âYou ought to be moreâ¦â his words trailed off as he looked up and met wide, startled brown eyes.
His jaw went slack. Those were the same eyes heâd been dreaming of not more than a few minutes before.
âCatherine?â he whispered in disbelief.
Catherine couldnât move as she stared into the handsome, devilish face that had coaxed her away from everything she had ever known.
Ask and ye shall receive, her fatherâs favorite phrase echoed in her head.
Stunned by his sudden appearance, she took his form in all at once. He was still as handsome as sin. His dark brown hair was short in back with long bangs that draped becomingly into eyes so silvery gray they appeared almost colorless.
Captivating and searing, his eyes could haunt a woman night and day. And she ought to know, since theyâd done nothing but torment her since the moment she had first seen them.
That same air of danger still clung to him seducing her, wooing her. Oh, but he was a man to make any womanâs heart pound.
His face had grown thinner over the years, adding sharp, angular planes to it. But they in no way detracted from the
Elizabeth Amelia Barrington