Part 21 (1/2)

Her expression of guilty concern almost caused him to smile. It also made him feel better. He didn't mind her feeling a little ashamed of what she'd said. It showed she had come to care about his feelings as much as he cared about hers.

Neither did he mind that she seemed concerned she had upset him. She had been keeping him at a distance ever since they met. This just might be the wedge he needed to break through the wall she had built around herself.

And he did intend to break through. Like a fragile sea creature, Fern had encased herself in a sh.e.l.l so tough no one had been able to crack it.

But Madison had set his heart on claiming that treasure. And he meant to do so tonight.

Chapter Fourteen.

Fern wished she could unsay her words. Madison looked crushed.

No, he never looked crushed. Disappointed or upset, but nothing could crush this man. If he didn't accept what you told him, he would try to change it.

But he did look hurt, and she was as mystified at his reaction as she was shocked. It didn't make sense unless he liked her a lot. But the way he talked, that seem unlikely.

Yet he must. Otherwise he wouldn't be telling her all the things he liked about her. His idea of sweet-talk wouldn't sweep a woman off her feet, but then Fern didn't want to be swept away. She just wanted to feel pretty, desirable, to be liked.

Fern's attention was caught by a man walking slowly down the street. He didn't stop, but he kept glancing in their direction. She was glad she had refused to let Madison teach her to dance. She didn't recognize the man, but she was certain he'd have spread the news over half the town before midnight.

''Rose says Monty's cow crazy,” Fern said. ”I could never like a man who preferred cows to women.”

Madison relaxed, but his hand stayed away from her neck.

”What was I saying?” he asked.

”That my dimples kept me from looking like a crazed drover, though how that's supposed to be an improvement on being compared to a heifer I don't know.”

Madison chuckled easily.

”I threw that in just for fun. I thought you might be getting too satisfied with yourself.”

Fern squared up to Madison. ”You tell me my face looks like old parchment, that no self-respecting woman would parade about in these clothes, that everything I've said, thought, or done in my whole life is wrong, and you have the gall to say I might be becoming too set up in my own conceit. That gives me a very strange notion of the women you consort with.”

Madison laughed again and pulled her back against the bench.

She loved his touch. His magical touch. This time he was more adventurous. His arm moved around her shoulder, his fingers gently teasing the flesh beneath her s.h.i.+rt.

Fern had never suspected that skin could be so sensitive to the slightest touch, the barest pressure, the smallest change in warmth. It seemed as though every part of her mind had focused on her shoulder.

”You are the most peculiar man,” Fern said, trying to decide if this was a lover-like declaration or if she was crazy to think she had heard a caress in his voice. She had no experience with men, nothing but instinct to guide her. George didn't behave this way with Rose, and no one could doubt that he wors.h.i.+ped his wife.

Madison's body remained unbending, but the distance between them seemed to be shrinking. She could almost feel the softening in his eyes. All the while his fingers were saying things to her his lips never had.

Then she realized that it was just as hard for him to admit to feeling any deep emotion as it was for her to admit she was a woman subject to all a woman's wants and needs. He might not even know he felt something out of the ordinary for her, but she did. She could see it in his eyes.

His arm closed around her, pulling her gradually to him. ”I also said I liked your gumption. I think I like you best when you're a little angry and can't decide whether you want to hit me or ride me down.”

”What kind of man would prefer a woman like that?” she asked. Clearly his wits were addled. She hoped they would stay that way for a little while longer.

”I don't know,” he replied, apparently as mystified as she. ”Certainly not the kind of man I thought I was. It seems that Kansas is bringing out my protective instincts.”

”Didn't anybody in Boston need protecting?”

”Not like you.”

”Me! From what?”

”Yourself, your father, this town. And something else you won't tell me about. What is it? Your father may overwork you, but he would protect you.”

Fern noticed that man again. He was coming back up the street. He seemed to be walking slower this time. He was definitely watching them. A tiny s.h.i.+ver ran down her spine. She was glad Madison was here. She found his presence comforting.

”I can't tell you,” she said.

”Why not?”

”Some things are too hard to explain.”

For a moment, Madison looked as though he wasn't going to honor her wish for privacy. But unexpectedly his gaze softened, and Fern felt he was suddenly offering her a bottomless wellhead of understanding.

”It's time you started being a woman and being proud of it. Your father probably won't like it at first, but he'll get used to it. He might even grow to be proud of having a daughter like you.”

Fern felt a nearly overwhelming urge to throw her arms around his neck and cry, but she resisted the impulse. Men never cried, and they hated crying women.

”What about you?” she said, hoping to focus attention on him until she could bring herself under control.

Instead of answering, he took her by the shoulders and turned her so her face was out of the deepest shadows.

”Why are you crying?”

”I'm not crying.”

”Okay, why are you not crying like that?”

”You're not making any sense,” she said, a choke of laughter forcing its way through her tight throat.

”Neither are you.”

”Females don't have to make sense. Didn't you know that?”

”I didn't mean to say anything to hurt you.”

”You didn't. It was already there.”

Instead of asking more questions or a.s.suring her that everything would be all right, he pulled her close and put his arms around her. With gentle strength, he drew her resisting body forward until her shoulder rested against his chest.

”That's the worst kind of hurt, when it's there all the time,” he said, and kissed the top of her head.