Good.
Harrison stepped closer.
“Then I won't.”
Mabel blinked.
“What?”
“I won't touch the debt.”
“That easy?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“It irritates me.”
“Good.”
“But if I want anything from you, it will not be purchased through your father.”
The room became very quiet.
Mabel looked into his eyes.
“What do you want?”
Harrison held her gaze.
“You.”
Clementine made a small sound.
Mabel’s face burned.
“Harrison.”
“You asked.”
“Not in front of my mother.”
Martha stood.
“I suddenly have somewhere else to be.”
For once, Mabel loved her.
Clementine followed.
At the doorway she stopped.
Looked at Harrison.
Then Mabel.
Her eyes were swollen.
“Don't make me regret defending you.”
Harrison nodded.
“I won't.”
She left.
Mabel and Harrison stood alone.
The party continued beyond the walls.
Music had resumed.
Of course it had.
Scandal could not stop dancing for long.
Mabel looked at Harrison.
“You caused a disaster.”
“I walked into a kitchen.”
“You held my hand.”
“True.”
“You told Clementine you were bored.”
“Also true.”
“You are terrible at diplomacy.”
“I own cattle.”
“You keep saying that like livestock excuses social incompetence.”
“Often.”
Mabel fought a smile.
Then became serious.
“You cannot want me.”
Harrison’s expression changed.
“Careful.”
“No.”
“I mean—”
“I know what you mean.”
He stepped closer.
“Do not tell me what I can want.”
Mabel swallowed.
“Harrison.”
“You are large.”
She stiffened.
He continued before she could retreat.
“Yes.”
“I noticed.”
“I noticed at church.”
“I noticed when you carried two flour sacks alone.”
“I noticed tonight.”
His eyes moved over her face.
Then lower.
Not lewdly.
Not apologetically.
Openly.
Mabel’s breathing changed.
“I am not blind.”
“And I am not confused.”
“You think I should prefer Clementine because everybody else does.”
“That would make me a coward.”
Mabel stared.
Harrison stepped within inches.
“Do you know what I saw tonight?”
She shook her head.
“A room full of people eating food you made.”
“Laughing under decorations you helped hang.”
“Your family wearing clothes paid for from books you keep.”
“Your sister being prepared for a marriage she didn't choose.”
“And you in the kitchen making all of it possible while everybody pretended you were the least important woman in the building.”
Mabel’s eyes filled.
“Stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't know what to do when somebody sees me.”
Harrison softened.
“That I understand.”
His hand lifted.
Stopped.
“May I?”
Mabel nodded.
He touched her cheek.
Flour.
Heat.
Skin.
She closed her eyes for one second.
Then opened them.
His face was close.
“You said the biscuits were better than New York.”
“They are.”
“Liar.”
“Possibly.”
“What else are you lying about?”
Harrison’s thumb moved gently across her cheek.
“That I came into this kitchen because of biscuits.”
Mabel’s heart stumbled.
“Why did you?”
“I saw you.”
“In the ballroom?”
“Three times.”
“I wasn't in the ballroom.”
“Exactly.”
His gaze dropped to her lips.
Mabel whispered:
“You are looking.”
“Yes.”
“Very obviously.”
“I’m tired of being subtle.”
She almost laughed.
Then:
“What do you want to do?”
Harrison’s voice lowered.
“Kiss you.”
Mabel inhaled.
“Only kiss?”
His eyes darkened.
The question had escaped before she could stop it.
Mabel’s face burned.
Harrison became very still.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Only kiss.”
Her pulse accelerated.
“And later?”
“That depends on you.”
The answer mattered.
Mabel’s fingers caught the front of his waistcoat.
Harrison looked down.
Then back at her.
She whispered:
“Then stop talking.”
He kissed her.
Soft first.
Almost careful enough to insult her.
Mabel pulled him closer.
That solved the problem.
Harrison’s hand moved around her waist.
The kiss deepened.
Warm.
Hungry.
Not theatrical.
No audience.
No proving anything.
Just a man and woman discovering that restraint had been more fragile than either expected.
When they separated, Mabel was breathing hard.
Harrison’s forehead rested against hers.
“That was…”
She swallowed.
“Don't say better than Chicago.”
He laughed against her.
The sound made her smile.
Then the kitchen door opened.
Of course.
Clementine stood there.
Mabel froze.
Her sister stared.
Harrison did not move far away.
But he removed his hand from Mabel’s waist immediately.
Clementine noticed.
Good.
Choice.
Not possession.
Clementine’s eyes narrowed.
“Again?”
Mabel blushed.
Clementine looked toward Harrison.
Then back.
A strange smile appeared.
“I suppose Oak Haven deserves to see this.”
Mabel stared.
“What?”
Clementine stepped aside.
Half the town had reassembled beyond the doorway.
Apparently discretion had died.
Mabel groaned.
“No.”
Harrison looked amused.
Clementine said:
“They already think you seduced him with biscuits.”
Mabel covered her face.
Harrison asked:
“What kind?”
She hit his chest.
“Not helping.”
Clementine’s smile became real for the first time that evening.
Then she looked toward the crowd.
“Come on.”
Mabel shook her head.
“I’m not going out there.”
“Why?”
“Look at me.”
Clementine did.
Light-blue dress.
Flour.
Loose curls.
Flushed cheeks.
Large body.
No apology.
Her sister stepped closer.
“You look beautiful.”
Mabel stared.
Clementine continued:
“And if Mother faints, I’ll catch her.”
Harrison offered his hand.
Mabel looked at it.
Then him.
She took it.
They entered the ballroom together.
The room quieted.
Not completely.
Musicians stopped.
Conversations died.
Martha looked horrified.
Thomas Higgins looked confused because, as usual, he had missed half the important events occurring under his own roof.
Harrison walked with Mabel to the center of the room.
Then stopped.
He looked at her.
Not the town.
Her.
“Dance?”
Mabel laughed nervously.
“I don't dance.”
“You have feet.”
“Debatable.”
“You've been standing twelve hours.”
“Exactly.”
“I may collapse.”
“I’ll catch you.”
She looked at him.
“Dangerous promise.”
“I own cattle.”
She laughed.
Again.
Loud.
The room heard.
For once she did not stop herself.