Page 25 of Taming Lady Temperance

“Yep, Elijah showed up bright and early to collect her. Brought the boys with him.”

A smile touched her lips but failed to take up permanent residence. “Good. I’m glad she’s back with her family.”

James waited, but she didn’t say more, though everything about her indicated she wanted to.

He glanced around. Most of the congregation had exited the sanctuary. A few pockets of people lingered inside, but no one stood close enough to overhear their conversation.

Still, James lowered his voice for good measure. “Just spit it out, Noreen. Whatever it is, I want to help.”

Even if it had to do with her temperance work. He couldn’t get involved directly, of course, but he could advise her on how to make a stand without running afoul of the law. Maybe he could find a way to minimize the risk she took upon herself. Making enemies of powerful men was a dangerous business, a business in which Noreen excelled.

“I want to apologize,” she said, her gaze not quite reaching his eyes.

“What for?” He wracked his sluggish brain, trying to come up with a situation that warranted an apology, and came up blank.

Finally, she raised her chin enough for her eyes to meet his. “I’ve been selfish. You were exceptionally kind to me last week, and in return, I’ve done my best to bribe you into helping me close the saloon even after you shared your reasons for remaining neutral. I didn’t respect your wishes as a friend should. Instead, I pressed my agenda onto you, trying to manipulate you into doing what I wanted as if you were a chess piece on a game board and not a person with aspirations as meaningful as my own. You deserved better from me, and I’m sorry.”

James took a moment to absorb her words, recognizing that they’d not been easy to say. It took a lot of courage to admit to a personal failing, a courage he didn’t often display himself. Hard to admit to flawed motivations when his pristine reputation was what kept him employed. He confessed his failings to God, but rarely, if ever, did he confess them aloud to another.

“If I accept your apology, do I have to give up you fixing dinner for me on Wednesdays and Sundays? ’Cause I was really looking forward to not eating my own cooking tonight.” He grinned as he teased, hoping she’d see that he harbored no ill will. In fact, his respect for her had only grown.

A smile bloomed across her face and lit her eyes in a way that made him slightly light-headed. “I think the dinners can be negotiated.”

“Good. Then apology accepted.”

“Excellent.” Her eyes sparkled, and her posture took on the vivaciousness he’d come to associate with her. “Would six o’clock be a satisfactory delivery time tonight?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Still smiling, Noreen backed up a step. “See you then.”

“Yep.” He fingered the brim of his hat in salute. “Oh, and I’m ready to help you with that project you’ve been asking about if you still have questions.”

He hadn’t thought it possible for her smile to grow any larger, but she proved him wrong.

“I have quite a number of them, actually.” The expression on her face nearly stole his breath.

When had Noreen O’Sullivan become such a staggering beauty? The truth hit him as she practically danced between the pews on her way back to her friends. Joy. Joy had transformed her. A joy he’d played a part in creating.

Heaven help him, but he wanted to see that joy on her face every day, even if regular interactions with the Temperance Terror ended up being a disastrous election strategy.

Chapter

13

Noreen arrived at the jailhouse at six o’clock sharp, a cold supper of ham sandwiches, deviled eggs, and sliced carrots in her basket and optimism in her heart. James Paxton was actually going to help her!

She’d wanted to cook something much finer for him to show her gratitude, but the stores were closed, so she had to make do with what Mrs. Barker had on hand in the boardinghouse kitchen. Thankfully, her landlady had the necessary staples to bake a pound cake. The recipe made enough for two loaves, so Noreen left one behind for Mrs. Barker to serve to her boarders that evening along with a few coins to cover the cost of the ingredients she’d utilized.

“Right on time.” James met her at the door with one of his customary smiles and held out a hand to take the basket from her.

Unused to chivalrous offers from men, she found her cheeks warming as she relinquished the supper basket.

“I’m afraid it’s just simple fare this time.” She followed him inside and nearly stumbled over her own feet when she spied the old worktable.

He’d set out plates, forks, and cups for two.

She darted a sideways glance at him as he set the basket on the edge of the table and started taking things out. He didn’t act like this was anything special. And it wasn’t like he’d used a tablecloth or picked wildflowers to stick in a jar. Yet her heart fluttered as she tried to interpret the significance.