Chapter 37
“DODGE . . .”
“Josephine . . .” He laid aside the pen and paper, grateful to find her here.
And finally alone. Even now, just standing here, he felt the pull of her.
Her beauty. Her strength. And, God help him, her stubbornness.
“I was leaving you a note. I’d hoped to speak with you privately about what happened the other—”
“Why don’t we step outside?” She opened the front door and motioned for him to join her, her features tense. “It’s so nice out.”
He glanced at the gray sky heavy with rain. “In all candor, I think this conversation is best held in private, considering—”
“Dodge, please,” she whispered.
Uneasy, he followed. She closed the door behind them.
“Hey Dodge!” Peterson called as his freight wagon rolled up. “Got the salt blocks and barbed wire you ordered, sir. Want it unloaded here?”
“Take it on up to the first barn. Have one of the fellows help you.”
Aware of passersby looking their way, Dodge turned back. “Josephine, I really think we should take this inside.”
She glanced past him, her expression easing. “You’re right. We can go back in.”
Wary, he glanced in the direction she’d looked, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Once inside, he spotted a bottle of iodine and cloths on the desk. “What’s that for? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Then why—”
“I thought it wise to keep some supplies on hand. For emergencies.”
Hearing the lie in her voice, Dodge glanced around. Through the window, he spotted Clara Hackett hurrying down the street, clutching a box, coming from the back of the office.
He fixed Josephine in his gaze. “Remember what I told you about meddling in other people’s affairs. Folks around here don’t take kindly to it.”
“I’m not meddling, Dodge. I’m helping.”
“Same thing in their eyes.”
“Not to Clara. She and her children have nothing to eat, so I—”
“So you took it upon yourself to remedy that?”
“Yes, I did. Is that such a terrible thing?”
“No, it’s not. It’s extremely kind. Until Henry finds out. Then there’ll be the devil to pay, and you’ll be the one he comes after.”
“Dodge, he beat her this morning! All because she asked for money to buy food. She and the children have nothing to eat, because he drank it away!”
“Which, while despicable and wrong, is none of your business.”
“None of my—” Her eyes flashed. “It is precisely my business. I have made it my life’s goal to liberate women from the tyranny of men.”
“So all men are tyrants now. Is that it?”
She hesitated. “I didn’t say that.”
“I think you just did.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, her jaw firming. “Drunkenness is a crime to be punished! No woman should be bound to a man who starves his children. The vice of intemperance is—”
“Who are you quoting now? Miss Anthony? Mrs. Stanton? Mrs. Stone? I know all of them, Josephine. Kathleen quoted them, too. And look where it got her. And where else do you think Clara Hackett has to go? Her parents still have four children at home and can barely feed them. They can’t take her and her children in. ”
“Dodge . . .” She put up a hand, her voice softening. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Kathleen. But you can’t blame everything that happened in that situation on suffrage. Your sister made choices that—”
“Choices like you’re making. And just like Kathleen, you have no idea what those choices will cost you. I’m trying to protect you, Josephine.”
“I don’t need protection, Dodge. I can protect myself!”
“Is that right?” He laughed beneath his breath, and she stiffened, obviously riled.
“You think you can protect yourself when the Hackett brothers pay you a visit? Maybe one evening when you’re walking back to Miss Mary’s alone?
They drag you into the woods and teach an outsider—and, in their opinion, a loudmouth, sassin’ woman—a lesson in the only way men like that know how to. ”
Fleeting dread, even fear, flitted across her features, and Dodge almost regretted speaking so plainly.
But he’d already lost his sister due, at least in part, to the illogical courage the suffrage movement nurtured in women’s minds.
As if women alone could change the world.
There was a reason God had created men and women.
“I’m not trying to frighten you, Josephine. I’m just asking you to be careful. You have a good heart, and I know you mean well—”
“But you think you know best.”
“In this situation? With these people? In this town? Which I’ve lived in my whole life? Without question, yes, I do.”
“I will not turn away any woman who walks through that door needing help.”
He searched her gaze, then sighed. “No, you won’t. And that’s what scares me. And that’s not an emotion I’m accustomed to.”
She looked at him good and long, much as he’d done her, and he would’ve sworn he felt the wall between them coming down.
A softness moved into her eyes that triggered something inside him.
But it was the rise and fall of her chest, and her gaze trailing to his mouth then slowly to his eyes again, that somehow dissolved the distance between them.
He took her in his arms and kissed her, tenderly at first, until she wove her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.
Her response lit a fire in him and he deepened the kiss, aware of every part of her body touching his, and of how well she fit him.
He slowly traced the curve of her waist and a soft sigh escaped her that all but demolished his restraint.
With determination, he finally broke the kiss and gently pulled back, his own breath coming hard.
She slowly opened her eyes, the fullness of her lips doing nothing to cool his desire.
“I’m sorry, Josephine. I—” He put distance between them. “I had no right to do that.”
She lowered her gaze. “And I shouldn’t have—” She made a little gesture with her hand, her meaning unmistakable. And if the liberties he’d taken hadn’t been so wrong, he might’ve found humor in it. But as it was . . . .
“It won’t happen again,” he said softly. “I give you my word.”
Reluctantly, she met his gaze. “No, of course not,” she whispered.
He crossed to the door. “Promise me . . . you’ll be careful.”
Emotion pooled in her eyes, and guilt carved out another layer of his conscience.
She gave a succinct nod. “Clara said she had a good ‘hidey-hole’ where she could put the food where her husband won’t find it.”
“Let’s hope she does. Because if he gets wind of it . . .”
He closed the door behind him and strode back uphill. God help him, if any man brought harm to her, he’d answer for it. She had a good heart but her courage scared him. And fear, tangled with want, was a dangerous thing.