Ace's Wild. Sarah McCarty. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sarah McCarty
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Hell's Eight
Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474027816
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      Petunia felt certain the sermon was aimed at her endeavors to help the children and less fortunate of Simple and the lack of interest of the townsfolk. “It’s his opinion that people around here have gotten too used to turning a blind eye, even when they should be paying attention.”

      Maddie smiled and set the glaze aside. “A theory near and dear to your heart.”

      Petunia nodded. “You should have attended. He was quite animated.”

      Maddie’s expression closed right up as she started moving the rolls to the display plates. As curious as Maddie always was about the reverend’s sermons, as far as Petunia could tell, the woman had never set foot inside the church.

      “You should come on in one Sunday.”

      Maddie became overly busy getting a roll just so on the display plate. After a few seconds she looked up, a not so engaging smile on her face.

      “Well, if I did that, who would cook the cinnamon rolls for the congregation when the sermonizing is over?”

      She was clearly flustered at the idea of going to church. For the life of her, Petunia didn’t know why. There was no one more kind and considerate than Maddie. It was a mystery, and mysteries were Petunia’s downfall. She poked a little more.

      “I’m sure the reverend would love to see you at service more than he’d rather see a cinnamon roll.”

      Maddie shook her head. “I don’t know about that. The man is particularly fond of his pastries. Missing one might just throw him off his sermon.”

      Maddie’s resistance just increased Petunia’s curiosity. “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

      The pink gingham curtain behind the counter hissed slightly as it slid open. Caden Miller, Maddie’s husband, stepped from behind the cloth barrier and slipped his arm protectively around his wife’s waist. There was all the love any woman could want in that embrace, but there was steel in his blue eyes as he looked at Petunia, reminding her he was one of the legendary Hell’s Eight. Men known for their bravery and loyalty. Caden, in particular, for his unpredictable nature. The tiny shop suddenly seemed that much smaller.

      “There’s no purer angel walking this earth than my Maddie, with or without church.” Dropping a kiss on the top of Maddie’s head, he challenged Petunia to continue her prodding.

      Petunia was not a fool. “Good morning, Caden.”

      A nod of his head acknowledged her greeting. “If you don’t believe me,” he continued, taking the cinnamon bun out of Maddie’s hand, “all you’ve got to do is taste her baked goods.” The little paper napkin beneath wrinkled as he set it on the counter and pushed it toward Petunia.

      A lock of hair fell across his forehead. Maddie turned and brushed it back, her fingers lingering on his cheek. Caden’s expression softened as he turned his head and kissed her palm. Petunia felt a pang of envy and more than a little superfluous. “They are the height of my Sundays.”

      Maddie turned to her and smiled in her easy, open way. “Between you and Caden my head is going to swell so much, I’ll have a hard time getting through the door.”

      “No problem, Maddie mine.” Caden stole a pastry for himself. “I know where you store the hat pins. If things need popping I’ll be right on it.”

      Maddie shook her head and laughed. “Thanks.”

      “It’s my husbandly duty to make sure you stay—” his gaze lowered to Maddie’s ample curves “—all in proportion.”

      “Caden!”

      All Maddie’s protest inspired was a chuckle from her husband and an offer to share his roll. Petunia’s blush faded as Maddie laughed again and took a bite. It was good to see a man who knew how to be a man and cared about his wife. And there was one thing everyone knew about Caden. Caden loved Maddie with everything in him, which surprisingly seemed to be a whole heck of a lot. Surprising because if you asked half the town’s populace, they’d tell you stories, all of them designed to convince you that Caden Miller didn’t have a heart. But he did, and she was plump and sweet with red hair and green eyes and a talent for baking.

      The scent of the cinnamon roll on the counter beckoned. There had been a time when Petunia would have said it was better than any man’s arms, but watching Maddie relax into Caden’s embrace, seeing how natural they were together, Petunia was beginning to have those doubts that said maybe the course she’d set for herself and the beliefs she held to so strongly were not all that a woman needed.

      Petunia passed her money across the counter, took the roll and ignored that pang of envy that she didn’t have time for. “Thank you.”

      She had an important meeting in two days, and she couldn’t afford any distractions. There were things in this town that people didn’t want to see that she insisted they would. Too many children in her school were neglected, hungry or abused while others were just left out of an education entirely simply because their mothers were forced to work above stairs in the saloon. It was unacceptable. It had to change. Every child deserved to be safe and educated and before she left this town she was determined some changes would be made, no matter how unpopular her determination made her with most, including Caden. The man was a bit overprotective. Maddie’s quiet support of her cause did not put her in danger. With a smile she made her excuses. “I’m going to scoot before the reverend gets here and lectures me about slipping out on church early.”

      Caden grinned. “Are you worried about eternal damnation?”

      She reached for the door, her mouth watering, impatience nibbling at her the way she wanted to nibble on the roll. “Not this week.”

      Maddie chuckled. “You have a nice day, Petunia.”

      Petunia glanced back, the door half-open, the little bell’s jangle just a ting of sound. Caden stood behind Maddie, his arm still around her waist. He looked like hell waiting for a place to land, all squared shoulders and contained aggression. Maddie, on the other hand, looked...at peace. The hand resting on Caden’s was relaxed. Her fingers stroked across his darker skin. Such a small gesture, but it had such a profound effect. Caden visibly relaxed. Petunia smiled. Maddie was a woman who knew her power and wielded it wisely. Yet she wouldn’t step inside a church she clearly longed to visit. It made no sense. If Petunia had more time she’d definitely be exploring that wrinkle. But time she didn’t have. As soon as she saved enough for her ticket, she’d be on her way to starting her own dream.

      “Thank you, Maddie. You both have one, too.”

      The “Will do” came from Caden.

      Outside, she stopped and took that long-awaited, much-anticipated first bite. The pastry melted in her mouth. She closed her eyes and just appreciated the moment, letting the pleasure roll through her.

      “You know, if you wore that exact same expression on your face at the next dance, you might spend more time on the floor dancing than on the side talking.”

      Petunia didn’t have to open her eyes to know who was goading her. Ace Parker. The thorn in her side, her personal Achilles’ heel, Caden and Maddie’s best friend. She’d never understand how two productive people could appreciate a man of such low character. Opening her eyes, she found herself looking straight into the shadowed intensity of his. A frisson of awareness shot through her, hooking deep and drawing invisible wires tight. Damn the man. He even had beautiful eyes. She wanted to knock the black cowboy hat off his head so she could see the sky-blue irises flecked with those mesmerizing shards of icy gray. Eyes that saw too much. Eyes that made her want to... To push. Shove. Fight. His mouth quirked at the corner. She couldn’t look away.

      They made her want to surrender. Damn him.

      It was easy to see how Ace won so many poker games. There was an uncanny calm about the man. A subdued power that drew a person to trust where they probably shouldn’t. But she wasn’t a wrangler halfway through a bottle of cheap whiskey.