Page 46 of Wyoming Promises
Heat flooded her face without another soul around. She had no business thinking of Bridger as any more than an associate.
She remembered his golden-brown gaze locked on her face and a tingle warmed its way up her spine. She shook her head. No business at all. But schooling her thoughts grew more difficult as the days passed.
The slender wand of purplish-blue blossoms waved and bounced as she clipped the bottom stems and slid them into her mother’s vase. Their delicate scent wafted on a breeze as she carried them into the kitchen. She set them on the counter and stepped back to admire them. Just lovely.
Maybe Ike deserved reconsideration. Was he really trying to change? He’d been nothing but solicitous since Papa died. Without his help where would she be? A flush tingled up her neck and across her face. Had he truly intended to kiss her the other night? Would she honestly have allowed him?
She gathered a dustrag to clean the house. But action didn’t prove strong enough to call her thoughts away. No, she wouldn’t be so foolish as to take up with Ike again. Papa had never fully approved of him, and fortunately she saw his reasons firsthand before she said, “I do.”
It had been the emotions of the day and Ike’s surprise visit that caught her off balance. Pastor Evans had preached last Sunday about temptation being stronger when one became too hungry, angry, lonely or tired. She thanked God for the timely reminder.
But if she had led Ike to believe his chances for reconciliation had improved that night, she needed to quell the thought.
She shook out the crocheted antimacassar from the chair and settled it in place. Soon as she finished, she’d try to find Ike and ask if the flowers came from him, at least. She also needed to pick up a few supplies from Mr. Anthony’s store. It wouldn’t be the same with Ike’s men running the counter. But until affairs were settled, they had taken over the business.
It certainly provided Ike a tighter bottom line in getting supplies for hotel construction. For the saloon, too, for that matter. She adjusted the new bonnet from her last visit over coiled hair and picked up her reticule. It was a wonder Ike hadn’t thought to open his own store long before this. No one could accuse him of a lack of enterprise.
Lola removed the shawl she had grabbed as she stepped out the door when she cleared the bend into the town’s main thoroughfare. Sunshine warmed the cool breeze blowing down the rocky peaks enough to make it comfortable without a cloak.
Neighbors waved in greeting, but more new faces appeared daily. Population would demand a dedicated rail spur in no time at this rate, and Ike would be poised to reap a killing on pocketbooks as the only true hotel owner in town.
Hammers pounded even now, echoing between buildings, and the progress amazed her. Ike stood outside, head tilted toward the imposing height, proud smile on his face.
“Good morning, Ike.”
He angled his grin her way, eyes alight. “Good morning to you, Lola. What brings you this way?”
She was relieved to see none of his men lurked about. “I need to pick up a few things at Mr. Anthony’s store. But I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to thank you for checking on me the other night, but—”
“I know I said I wouldn’t apologize, Lola, but I will. A gentleman should never press his advantage with a lady.” He slid closer, hand grasping her elbow in careful fashion. His voice lowered to a whisper. “But I wanted to press it, very much. I hope you’ll forgive me. I lost myself for a moment in your eyes and the moonlight, but I promise you, it will not happen again. Not without your permission, that is.”
Lola breathed deep, glancing around as people passed them, most with knowing smiles. “While I appreciate the flattery, Ike, and I accept your apology, you have to know—”
“Shh!” he said, placing a finger gently to her lips. “Don’t say anything more, Lola, please. I know the wrong I’ve done to you in the past can’t be undone, and I grieve what I lost. I’m not asking you to take me back. But please, say you’ll consider me going forward. Give me a chance to show you the new man I’ve become.” He slid his finger away.
“We will always be friends...schoolmates...neighbors...but I can’t allow anything more to come between us—”
“Yet. But I pray I can change your outlook. For the sake of friendship, you can give me that chance, can’t you?”
She focused on her hands, as if they held the answer. Could she? The Lord God could change men—she believed that. Didn’t Ike deserve the opportunity to prove it? She wavered, arguing with her own thoughts and faithlessness.
Ike leaned into her line of sight, drawing her chin up. “You won’t be sorry this time, Lola. You’ll never know how I’ve been working to earn your attentions again. I’ve been doing all I can to show you we’re meant to be, and I’m closing the saloon as soon as the hotel is finished.”