Chapter 10
Sheridan glanced at the clock for the ninth time as she waited for Wyatt—a man. What would her aunt and grandmother think if they knew?
All her life, she’d been told that men only wanted one thing and one thing only. Her aunt had made sure she was afraid of them, pounding into her head at every opportunity how a man could ruin a woman’s life if she let them. Aunt Estelle always brought up Josie as the example.
Sheridan never learned very much about her late grandfather since Odette never spoke of him.
Ever. All she knew about Odette’s husband was that Henri DuBois had been fabulously wealthy and a philanderer.
That’s it. There were no pictures of him, no mention of his name other than in disparaging terms. Just the sordid circumstances of his death, which was in the arms of his young paramour.
Wyatt MacLean certainly didn’t fit that mold. He was kind. He was solicitous. He was sweet. And a gentleman. He’d saved her from the awfulness of the man named Duggan. She liked Wyatt. Very much so. He, like the women she lived with, was becoming a friend. A good friend.
It was stunning to realize she been lied to about so many things.
And the more she learned about her mother, the more she learned about herself.
She could be warm and friendly, just like Josie.
She could smile and laugh. And it was becoming easier, more natural than trying to keep herself distanced, always on the defense to protect herself.
She was letting her guard down and it felt good.
If someone had asked her two months ago if she was happy, she most assuredly would have said no, but now, here in Serenity, her life was changing in so many ways, she couldn’t deny that she was happier than she’d ever been.
There was a freedom here, something she could never have imagined.
And affection from Lily and the other girls, from the friends she was making, like Lucy Hart and Tresia Goodrich, who had welcomed her to their circle.
Leslie Carmichael had befriended her as well, and they spent many hours together just talking and poring over fashion magazines, patterns, and material.
It was all so new. And exciting.
The decision to stay in Serenity had become easier, too, except she still owned a brothel, though she didn’t run it.
Mrs. Gallagher and the girls did a fine job of running it, and she hadn’t moved out.
She still wanted to sell the business, but both her attempts had failed.
One with Mr. Steele, who hadn’t even answered his door, and Mrs. Vega, who flat-out told her ‘no,’ though in the kindest way possible.
She was becoming curious, though, about what the girls did upstairs.
Much too curious. And she couldn’t deny the thrill that made butterflies flutter in her belly every time Wyatt MacLean smiled at her.
She was excited to be invited out to his ranch to go horseback riding now that it wasn’t so cold.
It had been a while since she’d ridden, and she was looking forward to it.
Indeed, it was becoming a little more difficult to sit still and wait for him to pick her up.
She glanced at the clock, yet again, listening to it tick, then looked at the book in her hands, which couldn’t keep her attention.
Barrie came down the stairs with one of her ‘regulars’, a rancher who visited the parlor house every Saturday morning just to spend an hour or so with her. She escorted him to the door, holding out his hat. “I’ll see you next week, Joe.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and accepted the hat, which he promptly fitted to his head.
She received his kiss on the cheek and closed the door behind him. She turned around, her cheeks stained a lovely pink, her eyes aglow, as if she had enjoyed herself then jumped, startled. “Oh, Sheridan. I didn’t see you sitting there.”
“That’s all right. You were a little busy.”
The color on Barrie’s cheeks seemed to deepen before she changed the subject. “Look at you.”
Sheridan looked down at the split skirt of soft suede, the matching bolero vest and the boots on her feet. “Is something wrong with what I’m wearing? I’m going riding.”
“Of course not. I’m just not used to seeing you dressed so casually, but you do look beautiful. I think it suits you.” Her eyes danced with humor, as if she already knew before she even asked her question. “Who are you going riding with?”
“Mr. MacLean.”
“Ah, I see.”
“He invited me to see his ranch.”
Barrie gave her a knowing look, and this time, Sheridan felt the heat rise in her own face. “No, it’s not like that.”
“But you want it to be, don’t you?”
The question took her aback. Did she? Did she want something more from Wyatt?
Perhaps. He was a good man. And she couldn’t discount his charming smile.
Or the way his gaze swept over her, the heat in his eyes nearly her undoing.
“We’re friends. Isn’t this what friends do? Spend time with each other?”
Barrie tilted her head to the side, her wide gaze reflecting the look of innocence she had cultivated so well. “Yes, that is what friends do.”
Sheridan hesitated then asked the question, “What if I did want something more?”
Barrie moved away from the door and sauntered across the parlor in her skimpy pantalettes and corset, then took a seat across from her. “Has he kissed you yet?”
Her face heated and she quickly shook her head.
“Do you want him to?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. She did want him to hold her and kiss her, though she’d never been kissed before. “Yes.”
“You can always kiss him, you know. Some men like that.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” she admitted, the heat encompassing her face moving lower to include her throat. Even her ears felt hot. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, aside from on the cheek. I’ve never been kissed either.”
That admission shocked Barrie, if the look on her face was any indication.
And then she let out a laugh. “Oh honey, you don’t know what you’re missing.
There ain’t nothing quite like the kiss of a man who knows how to do it well.
Done right, it’ll make your toes curl. It’ll make your heart beat faster, too. ”
“It will?”
“Yes, ma’am!” The woman grinned, absolute certainty dancing in her eyes.
Sheridan suddenly wanted to feel her toes curl in her shoes. “So, what do I do?”
Barrie shrugged. “You can ask him to kiss you.”
“I can do that?”
“Of course, you can, honey. And I’m sure, Mr. MacLean will be more than happy to oblige.
” Barrie patted her hand. “All you got to do is get up real close to him, take his hands in yours, or better yet, wrap your arms around him, look him straight in the eye, and say ‘Kiss me.’” She laughed again.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Believe me, it won’t take much more than that. ”
The grandfather clock struck the hour, the chime catching her attention.
Barrie glanced at the clock as well. “My next appointment will be here any minute. I need to get ready.” She rose from her seat and strolled across the parlor floor then paused at the bottom of the stairs, her hand resting on the ornate railing.
“Just ask him. What’s the worst he can say? ”
Her heart was already pounding too hard. “He could say ‘no.’”
“Yes, he could,” Barrie conceded the point. “But I don’t think he will.”
Sheridan watched Barrie go upstairs, then went back to her book, or at least tried to go back to her book, but the words on the page weren’t making any sense.
She couldn’t concentrate at all, as in her mind, she kept rehearsing how she’d ask Wyatt to kiss her.
None of the words made sense. They sounded too harsh or too wishy-washy, unsure, yet bold.
The doorbell rang, startling her out of her own head. How unusual. No one rang the bell. Customers normally just walked into the house. She couldn’t count how many times she’d been startled by a man waiting in the parlor.
She put her book aside and walked to the door. Opening it, she sucked in her breath. Was it possible Wyatt MacLean was even more handsome than the last time she’d seen him?
Yes. It was.
“Are you ready?” he asked as his gaze roamed over her, appreciation dancing in his eyes.
Sheridan tried to find her voice, but instead just stammered. “Y…yes, I’m ready. Let me just get my cape.”
“Don’t forget your gloves. It’s still a little chilly, but not nearly as cold as it has been. I think Spring is finally coming.” He smiled, which set her heart beating a little faster in her chest.
She slipped into her cape and buttoned it all the way up to her neck, then added the scarf. “I think I’m ready.” She pulled the gloves from the pockets of the cape and tugged them on. “Let me tell Mrs. Gallagher I’m leaving.”
Sheridan pushed through the kitchen door to find Mrs. Gallagher sitting at the table, cup of tea in front of her.
She jotted another item on the list on the table, then looked up and gestured to the notepad.
“I’m making the list for Mr. Langston’s next visit.
Do you need him to do anything for you?”
She shook her head. “Whatever you have him do will be fine, I’m sure. You run this house better than anyone, getting repairs done before they become too extensive.”
“Well, thank you for the compliment.” She smiled. “Is Wyatt here to pick you up?”
A little taken aback that Mrs. Gallagher knew about her plans, though she shouldn’t have been—there were very few secrets here—she nodded. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.”
“That’s fine, lass. Have a nice time.”
“Thank you.”
She pushed through the door to see Wyatt fingering the keys of the piano, making a soft plinking sound. “Do you play?”