Page 97 of West Wind

“Shelley! Where did you get that? They think you’re a sheriff.”

“A marshal.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously; red lips pursed. She glared at him. He glared back.

Her flimsy-looking white dress was cut far too low. In addition to the red lips, there was rouge on her cheeks. Without a second thought he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping the color from her face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

He chanced a quick glance to his left. Uncle Icky was still there, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed much like Annie’s. Shelley would have to ignore the fact that at the moment he had an audience of his own.

“The first time I saw you there was glop all over your face,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now. Just listen to me before I lose what little nerve I’ve got left.”

He placed the mussed handkerchief back into his pocket, giving her another glimpse of the star above his heart, then he took her hands in his, in case she tried to walk away.

“I missed you,” he whispered gruffly. Her expression softened. That was a good sign, right?

He freed his hand, reached into the pocket of his coat, and withdrew a single, perfect peach, fuzzy and unbruised. He offered it to her on his open palm.

“Oh, Shelley,” she whispered.

He squirmed, growing warm, the collar of his shirt suddenly tighter. “Well, aren’t you going to take the damn thing? If this is a big mistake… if I’m wrong… There are fellas here with flowers, candy, and diamonds. If that’s what you want... I never shoulda… He was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. The peach remained in his hand, offered but not accepted.

She took a deep breath. “Do you love me?” Her soft question was filled with hopes and dreams for their future.

“I’m here, aren’t I? I came here to ask you to marry me. I brought you this damn piece of fruit because you said… and I want it all, Annie. Your heart, your soul. I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

“Well,” She tightened her grip on his hand. “I haven’t heard you ask me to marry you, and you still haven’t answered my question.”

“What question was that?”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, Annie. I love you, dammit.”

She shook her head, and a smile transformed her face. “We’ll need a new pact, you know. You can never say ‘I love you’ and ‘dammit’ in the same breath. It’s terribly unromantic.”

“You and your pacts. All right. If you’re going to sing in front of other people, you’re going to have to wear more clothes than that,” he snapped. “And I certainly hope that you won’t stand on the mayor’s table and sing minstrel songs once we get to Santa Clara.” The offered peach remained in his hand.

“Teach me how to track a man.” She rested her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes.

“What for?”

“Every time I tell you that I love you, you run away. Twice you’ve done that to me. Twice!”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to try me one more time?”

She smiled, a real smile with no hesitation, and he knew in a heartbeat that everything was going to be all right. “I love you,” she said clearly. “I’ve loved you from the moment you winked at me as I hid under the stairs. I love the sound of your heartbeat and the feel of your hand in mine. I love riding the sleeping car of the Shelley Railway, beans, tequila, and limericks.” She took the peach from his hand and then wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her face close to his. “I love you, Shelley.”

He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he lifted Annie off the ground and spun her around. He’d missed her so much, he’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to hold her in his arms. He couldn’t hold her tight enough. When he placed her on her feet, he looked over her head and into Bart’s amused face.

Shelley grinned and spoke the words that warmed his heart. “She loves me.”