He tipped his head again. “Thank you.” He moved out of line and headed around back to the stairs leading to her living quarters. He liked that she trusted him enough to give him free rein in her personal space. Most did, of course. Lawmen occupied a revered part of the culture. The lawmen had served on the front lines against the brigands for generations. The populace understood that, respected that. Having one stay in your home was an honor and why he, a single man, would be allowed to stay here in a widow’s home without any raised brows.
Or, if there were any rumblings, they’d be kept quiet. The garrisons needed the lawmen to get delivery of goods from all up and down the Highway. Naturally, they’d all need to be put up when they came to town.
Some garrisons had hotels and other traveler lodging. Usually those closer to the capital city. Most had what Silver Cliffs had, rooms to let in various homes, sometimes beds at the garrison headquarters or police stations.
The others would know, of course, each having their favorite places to lodge. Trinity and Marcus would take one of the rooms at the bed and breakfast as they always stayed together. There was a bar down the other end of town, along with two cafes.
He wouldn’t need either, of course. He didn’t drink in public when he was on a ride. And Verity’s cooking would keep him well satisfied while he was in Silver Cliffs. He’d dine with her. Though she tried, always, to refuse his payment, saying without him, she’d lose business. He knew her store made months’ worth of revenue on the days an official transport came in. Knew too, she received a salary from the central governance to distribute the mail and be responsible for dissemination of official communication from them via the blip system she maintained in the office downstairs.
But he paid. As he always did elsewhere, though here it made a difference knowing it helped her.
At the top of the stairs his mouth watered as the scent of her kitchen hit. Herbs, some foul. Freshly baked bread. There was a basket on the nightstand in his room with a note that he should eat and bathe until she finished up downstairs.
Bathing sounded mighty fine, as it happened. They’d been on the road two days, having only briefly stopped just down the Highway in Table Mount to deliver fuel. They’d slept in their vehicles and tents as Table Mount was little more than a way station. They could have all slept in barracks, but Loyal preferred to be outside or in his vehicle instead of the confines of a barracks, weather permitting.
She had running water and a decent-sized tub. He ate a few of the corn patties and drank several glasses of water before he headed into her bathroom to wash the road from his skin.
• • •
When she’d finally finished with the mail, and knew there’d be another line up in the morning when she opened again, she headed into the store to help there. The first people allowed in were those who’d preordered goods. It kept the traffic manageable that first day of the deliveries.
And, she couldn’t lie, it also encouraged people to preorder and put down payments on goods, which kept her credit account healthy. She liked the numbers, liked knowing that should she ever need to up and leave Silver Cliffs, she had the means to do it. Liked knowing she’d be able to get herself on a travel list at some point too.
That didn’t mean she had the opportunity, not all the time anyway. But she liked having some options in any case.
The store bustled with business, customers wearing smiles as they took their paper-wrapped bundles from the counter. Her storeroom in the back was still full so she’d spend some time stocking after she closed up as well. But for now, she had plenty to do.
Constance worked alongside Tobin, going through the order cards and settling up accounts. Verity pulled out orders as she caught sight of people coming in. Constance’s husband, Emeril, also came in a few minutes later, after he’d left his job down at the credit office for the day. He worked there during the snow season but everyone cut hours back during planting and harvest time. They had a sizable plot of land and grew grain they ground at the mill and sold in town.
The mercantile had belonged to James, but it was hers since he’d gone and gotten himself killed three years before. Good riddance to him. And in that time, it not only became hers, but her nephew had come on as her assistant and her sister and brother-in-law helped on delivery days in exchange for goods.
Emeril was wary of her. She knew he didn’t like her curiosity. Had made multiple comments to Constance about how she needed to settle down and get married at last instead of flitting around town. But he was there to help and that’s what mattered.
She also liked knowing that right above them Loyal stretched out those long legs on the bed in her spare room. Or lounged naked in her tub. As she measured out fabric and cut it, wrapping it up for her customers, she went back to an old favorite fantasy.
One where she’d come upstairs and stand in the doorway to the bathroom. He’d look up, surprised, probably smoking one of his fancy cigars. But she’d put her finger to her lips to hush him up.
Each button at the neck of her blouse would come loose as he watched. Down, more and more of her skin would show and he would not move. He would only continue to watch her with those big pale blue eyes that were nearly the color of a snow sky.
She’d slide the blouse from her arms, letting it fall near the clothes he’d removed earlier.
The steam from the water would allow her to pretend they were somewhere far away. The hot springs in the hills above Silver Cliffs maybe. It didn’t matter, only that she’d pull her undergarments up and over her head.
Still smoking, he’d look at her, one corner of his mouth quirking up just a tiny bit.
A few buttons and her skirts would slide to her feet in a pool of fabric, leaving her in naught but her drawers, which she’d shed, standing utterly naked before him.
But she wouldn’t be a shy widow. No, she’d unbind her hair, shake it out and his pupils would swallow the color in his eyes. His lips would part and he’d hold a hand out. Urging her to step into the big tub and join him.
She’d take the cigar, maybe even take a long drag, letting the smoke inhabit her body. All while his lips cruised over her body, his hands caressing her.
“My goodness, Verity Coleman, whatever are you daydreaming about?”
Faith Ander patted Verity’s hand, tearing her from that fantasy and back into her life at the counter.
She blushed furiously.
“I must admit, Faith, I’m starving. I was thinking about the stew on my stove cooking nice and slow all day.”
She laughed and Faith joined her. “I imagine on delivery days you don’t get much time to have two thoughts in a row much less luncheon.”
Verity wrapped the cheerful yellow fabric up and grabbed the blue after she looked at the sheet Faith had brought along. Faith was a seamstress. In fact her clothes were sold in the mercantile all through the year.
“I am fair excited to see what you’ll be making with this blue. So pretty.”
“Have some skirts and dresses on order for the yellow. Thought the blue would compliment. I haven’t forgotten you either, Verity.” She patted the green already wrapped and ready to go. “This is for a skirt for you. I think the blue would make a pretty harvest season dress too.”
“Yes. Please.”
She chitchatted with more people, measured out dry goods and such until at last, long after the sun had begun to fall below the mountains beyond, they finally flipped the sign to Closed and she sent everyone home.
2
He sat in her living room, reading a book. Deep concentration on his face, yet his body was relaxed. It pleased her that he felt safe to do so in her home. Pleased her to have him there.
“Evening, Loyal. I’ll be with you shortly and we’ll have dinner. Unless you’ve already eaten?”
He stood and nodded, tipping his chin with respect in a very old-school way. “Ev
ening, Verity. I will admit I ate the entire basket of baked goods you left for me. But I’m more than ready to enjoy that stew. Tempting me all afternoon with that scent.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I’ve spent some time during the last hour or two just thinking about it. I need to wash the day off and I’ll return. If you peek in my pantry, you’ll find some ale and a bottle of wine. A trader from Charity Bay, he was. Always pays that way.”
“I’ll get us a glass while you clean up.” He nodded at her as she left the room.
She chose a deep blue dress. Casual of course, the type worn in the evenings at home by many women. But the color complimented her skin and hair and she liked looking pretty for him.
In the bathroom she noted he’d left her a gift. He often did that when he stayed with her. Several small soaps shaped like shells. She picked one up and brought it to her nose. The scent was fine, as delicate as the shape. And more, these oval-shaped cakes of every day soap. Though these too had a lovely scent. River lilies, mountain violets and the lush, nearly velvet scent of orchidium, found far south of Silver Cliffs. Past the capital city.
She picked that one and soaped up a washcloth, choosing a quick lather-up instead of a long, leisurely bath. She wanted to be with him, to soak up as much time with him as she could before he left. Once he did, she’d have plenty of time for long baths. Alone.
Brushing out her hair, she spritzed it to keep the curls behaving and chose to bind it loosely so it hung on one shoulder.
Which had been the right choice as he paused, his lips parting slightly when she came back out.
“How’s the wine?”
“I saved the first sip until we’d toasted.” He handed her a glass and clicked his with it.
“Go dte tu slan.” In the old tongue for safe travels.
She smiled and repeated it back before taking a sip.
“Sit down and I’ll get some bowls filled. There’s fresh-churned butter in the cooler.”
“Some days, usually while I’m in Silver Cliffs, I wonder if being paid in credits doesn’t rob a man of the finer things like cream, honey, fresh butter and the like.” He lifted his glass. “Fine wines on a cool evening as well.”
“Ah well, I’m sure in the capital you can buy all those things and more with credits.”
She ladled up the stew in two large bowls and placed them on the table, returning to her cooler to grab a jar of pickled vegetables.
“Nothing in the capital tastes anything near this good and fresh. Though I’m of a mind to bring some butter I favor the next time I come. It’s caked with salt from the Great Sea. I think you’d like it.”
Once she’d settled, he sat, placing the linen napkin across his lap.
“And how do you do, Loyal?”
The stew filled him, warm and delicious. She would have made a good wife. Though from the bits and pieces he knew, the man she’d had before didn’t deserve her. Not so very uncommon.
“I do just fine, Verity. And you?”
“The same. My sister is with child again. The rumors, and I know how much you love those”—he snorted at the tease—“are that the garrison chief is sneaking through Madeline Johnston’s back door most nights. Course, they’re both of age, neither is married to anyone else. He’s fine looking, which I suppose is part of it. The jealousy, I mean. The river is full of sweet, fat silver fish. There will be plenty drying all around town this week. You’ll be of a knowing when the wind shifts. Planting will begin soon. The ground is softening up. You only just missed the mud.” She sighed. “Takes too much time to deal with the floors downstairs when we get a few days of mud. Like all of my life is about sweeping and mopping and sweeping some more. Telling people to kick their shoes a bit afore they come in.”
He knew she was hungry for details of the world outside the walls. So when she finished, he’d give them to her. Part of his pleasure in visiting her was sharing those details, watching the delight on her face, hearing the rushed pleasure in the way she asked for more.
“This is a delicious stew. The pickle as well. Did you make it?”
“Yes, thank you. My garden was heavy last season. Had so much extra it seemed a shame to not pickle and put some by. Sold quite a bit downstairs to folks my mother would have termed the grasshoppers, aye?”
He smiled at the memory of the story of the ant and the grasshopper. The ants worked hard to prepare for lean times but the grasshopper lazed about and was caught unawares when the snow fell.
“If she were still alive she’d laugh to know those grasshoppers keep food on my table all snow long.”
“Indeed.” He shifted in his chair, settling in to speak. “The grass is very tall now down in Solace. They had their thaw two moons back.”
“More temperate to the south, yes?” She leaned in, eyes alight as he started to give her those details he knew she wanted.
“Yes, doesn’t snow much south of Shelter City. Only round the annum end. Powerful hot in the mid year down there though. No icy cold river to dip your toes in. Though in Solace there’s a mighty large lake. In the mid year the town guards it often so folks can go on down after the workday is over, or on off days to cool off.”
“Solace has those little cookies?”
“Yes, they’re green because the flour they’re made with is cut with the sweet grain that grows with the grasses. Seem to recall you have a powerful like for them.”
She blushed. “You brought me some last annum. They were delightful with tea.”
He’d remembered of course and would leave her a small bundle of them to find once he’d gone.
“And how is the Highway? Jackson down the garrison heard tell the brigands were active again on the southern passes?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Whole town was attacked, Brilliance. One of the furthest south, where the Highway begins.”
Her hand went to her chest. “How did the people fare?”
“Many didn’t.” Including several lawmen who’d been nearby and had raced to help.
She shook her head. “A tragedy to be sure. I’m sure you heard when you checked in that we had some news of scouts.”
He had and it had filled him with rage. And worry for her.
“You know if they come you’re to head to your storeroom and lock yourself in.”
She waved it away. “I know that’s what everyone tells me to do. As if I would hide away when I could help. I’m a good shot with a rifle. I have extra ammunition here. If they come to our gates I will not hide while they burn us to the ground. I will protect my home. But the sentry towers are on alert. We’re fine. I have a tunnel, from the cellar out to a plot of land a bit away. I’ve got food and water, supplies and the like, stored back there too. But I’m staying as long as I can.”
He frowned. “Finer if you’d keep yourself safe instead of trying to do battle with scum like the brigands. They won’t just burn things, if you take my meaning. Beautiful woman like you has far more to worry over.”
“If you think women are unaware of such dangers, you have no idea what it’s like to live in this world as a woman.” She pursed her lips and sniffed as she delivered her set to and he had to grip his spoon to keep from touching her as the heat of want washed over him.
Prim and proper Verity was delightful enough, but when she got fire in her eyes? His cock grew hard and heavy and his mouth watered to take a taste of her lips. And other parts.
“I appreciate the way women are viewed.” He nodded. “But I know these brigands. They would rip everything you hold dear to shreds.”
He spent the rest of the meal entertaining her with stories about all the garrisons he’d been in over the last moons. About what people wore, what they ate, how they celebrated this or that holiday. He colored in her world, adding details she craved about the world outside the walls.
“One day I want to travel down to Shelte
r City. Stay for a while. Stand on the shores of the Great Sea.”
“It smells so clean. Like nothing else. The sand, so soft, like a cloud, aye? And the water chases away and rushes back. Over and over. Nipping at your toes. Cool and fresh. You’d like it.”
People did travel for holiday. They could book space on official transport, but the price was dear and there was a wait list. A very long one. Extremely difficult too, for unaccompanied women unless they were visiting to be courted. She frowned at the idea.
She dried the last of the dishes and hung the towel on the peg.
“Would you like some music then?”
“I would. I brought you some books as well.”
She smiled. When he visited he not only brought her little indulgences, but important things like books and periodicals. She loved to read and he did as well. He brought her all manner of things, from light and breezy stories of fancy and love to heavier, darker tales. Reference manuals she kept in her kitchen shelves. She traded the books around the garrison and they ended up in the library when she was done. She wasn’t the only one who loved to read.
“Thank you.”
Her music player was charged and soft music played through the room after she hit the switch. He’d built a fire earlier so the living room was cozy and warm. He handed her a large bundle and she settled on her settee to look through the titles as he settled in the large chair and pulled the newspaper out.
It was so lovely. Normal and yet a rare treat, as he’d be gone in just days and she’d be alone here once more. His smell filled the space and she breathed it deep, wanting to be bold enough to tell him how much she wanted him to touch her. Damning the world she’d been raised in, the world that had kept her from knowledge, had raised her to always use soft words, to keep her gaze averted and to wait for the man to do the talking and action taking.
It was a silly world and it had raised silly women all chafing at the rules that were supposed to protect them. From what no one ever seemed to want to tell her.