Proposing Mischief, page 26
Boone entered and, without giving her a second look, began searching the shelves. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do everything Mother suggests,” he said. “Especially on my account.”
“I’m a practical person,” Maisie said. “Colder. You’re getting colder. If it helps us, then it makes sense.”
“There are things that lead to success in society or business that aren’t helpful for a marriage.” He wandered toward the windows and looked behind the curtains.
“Even a marriage like ours?” Maisie regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. Why did she have to go and kick the hornet’s nest? Why couldn’t she leave things be? “Warmer,” she said as he started toward her.
“Do you remember our contract, Maisie?” Boone wasn’t looking for the crystal. He was looking at her. “We agreed there’d be no romance until the Crystal Cave is successfully launched.”
“No discussion of romance,” she corrected. “You wrote it yourself. Colder.”
Boone’s eyes fell on the suit of armor. “Ticket sales exceeded my expectations.”
“We haven’t had our first visitor. Warmer.”
“Everything looks promising.”
“Warmer. That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Are you?” He stopped with his hand resting on the visor. “Are you hoping it’s a success?”
For financial reasons, of course, but that wasn’t the heart of the question. Did she want romance with Boone? Could she give him her affection and love? She wiped her hands against the worn cotton of her nightgown.
Seeing that no reply was coming, Boone opened the visor and produced the crystal as if he’d known it was there all along. “My turn,” he said.
Maisie felt no relief as she stepped out of the room. The games they played, the roles they pretended—there was a safety to knowing that at any time she could step away without risking her heart. If Boone disappointed her as Silas had, she could claim that she wasn’t hurt. It had all been a ruse. That was where she was, but was that where she wanted to stay? If she was honest with herself, it wasn’t.
She entered at his bidding and moved without thought.
“Warmer, colder, colder, warmer.” She let his voice direct her toward the telescope. When she honed in on it, he stepped out of the way.
“I’ve been thinking about our future,” he said. “A lot depends on how the mines and the cave do. Maybe a few years from now we’ll have started construction on our own home. We’ll have our own group of friends. Our own lives, separate from my parents. Colder. You’re getting colder.”
He’d directed her straight to the window, then switched his call. When she turned toward the shelves, he indicated that she was on the right path again.
“What if the mines fail? What if you had to take a job in town and you lived in a modest house like Uncle Oscar’s?” she asked. “Would you be devastated?”
“The failure would crush me, but if that was where God wanted me, I’d learn to be content. As long as I have work that I feel is important. As long as I have . . .” His eyes followed her as she ran her hand along the shelving over her head. “Warmer. Warmer.” He stepped out of the way so she could explore, and immediately changed his advice. “Colder. Now you’re moving away.”
Maisie turned to survey the room. He’d told her she was getting closer by the window, then by the shelves. Now she was cold again, and the only thing that had changed was his location. “I don’t think you’re playing fair,” she said.
He shrugged. “I don’t remember any rules discussed.” As Maisie came to stand in front of him, he asked, “What if I had only modest means? Would you feel cheated by our deal? Warmer. You are definitely getting warmer.”
Maisie took his hand and pried it open. It was empty. She took his other hand, but there was nothing in it.
“You’re getting so warm,” he said as she stood holding both of his hands.
And she was. She took one look at the knight and, remembering the visor, asked, “Boone Bragg, you did not put that rock in your mouth, did you?” Maisie took him by the chin. “I am not digging through your mouth to find it.”
“Colder.”
Her hand fell to his collar.
“Really warm. You haven’t answered my question. What if our future doesn’t look like this? Would you be satisfied without the money and the society and the jewels?”
Maisie was on a mission. He had to have that narrow piece of rock somewhere in his collar. Being so close to him was flustering. Being so close to winning was flustering. With shaking hands, she unknotted his tie and yanked it through the collar. Standing on her tiptoes, she ran her finger beneath his collar, all the way around, but all she could feel was the tickling of his breath on her neck. She bent his lapels, but there was no stone beneath them. She ran her hands over the breadth of his shoulders but didn’t feel anything that wasn’t Boone himself.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.
“You stopped playing the game,” she replied.
“Hot. So hot you’re melting.”
With her heart pounding, Maisie started at his collar bone and ran her hands slowly down his chest. His heart was pounding too, strong beneath her palm. She went lower, and then she felt it. A bump like a pencil inside some hidden pocket. She swallowed hard as she slid her hand inside his vest. She felt the seam of a pocket, but then his hand clamped down on hers, pinning it against him.
“Take away the expectations of my family,” he said. “Take away the comforts that wealth can provide. Take away whatever happens for good or ill with our investments. Could you be satisfied with me?” His hand held hers firm even though his breathing was bumpy. “Only me?”
Maisie closed her eyes. She’d thought she would have to protect herself against an overly amorous husband, and instead she’d found herself with a generous, caring companion. A companion who had done his best to preserve her independence and had left her incredibly lonely. She dropped her forehead against Boone’s chest. Despite his mother’s best intentions, Mrs. Bragg was no substitute for Boone. No one was.
“Maisie, you must know that I’m devoted to you.” His hands traveled up her back to cradle her head. “I’ve given you everything I thought you needed or wanted, but now I’m going to ask for something in return. I want to know what you think. Do you think you could ever love me?”
“Losing the money doesn’t scare me,” Maisie said. “I’m not afeared of hard work or modest means. You can take society and jewels and toss them in a sinkhole, for all I care. The only thing that frightens me now is losing you.”
Suddenly, it wasn’t just her tattered nightgown that made her feel exposed. She’d gone and said words that she’d promised herself she’d never say again.
Boone’s chest lowered with a long exhale, and he wrapped his arms around her. Maisie felt the comfort of his body against hers and the safety of his arms. They stood there with only the knight as a witness, until Boone planted a kiss on her head, then pulled away.
“You won’t lose me,” he said as he dropped the crystal into her hand. “We might lose everything else, but you were never in danger of losing me.” His eyes were so full, so earnest.
Could it be true? Boone didn’t think her inferior or shameful. For whatever reason, he thought she belonged to him, and with him.
With a promise to see her in the morning, Boone backed out of the room, watching her with fondness until the closing door interrupted his view.
Maisie wiggled her fingers, unsure that she was still in the same body. She switched off the light and felt her way through the dark to her little bed, feeling more at home than she ever had at the ranch.
CHAPTER
27
No matter what words were said the night before, Maisie and Boone were destined to spend the day together. They were going with Mrs. Penney to meet some journalists before the cave opened on Friday. Mrs. Penney had invited journalists from afar to come for an interview, an early tour, and pictures. If they managed to squash some of the rumors from that one catty newspaper article, all the better.
Maisie tossed a baseball into the air and caught it as she dallied between two outfits. The horrible farm outfit that Mrs. Penney had scrounged up was folded atop Boone’s chessboard, neat and cleanly pressed. The other dress hung on a padded hanger from the dressmaker. The morning light caught the sheen of the fabric and made it glow like it was warmed from the inside.
She was warmed from the inside too, especially when she thought about Boone’s visit the night before. Clearly, Boone was probing into areas that they’d set aside before. While Maisie wasn’t satisfied with where things were, she wasn’t sure where she wanted them to go, but it bore looking into.
“Boone?” she called down the staircase. “Can you help me for a second?”
She heard a dresser drawer rasp closed and then Boone jogging up the staircase. Maisie knew she was taking another step away from safety, but after Boone’s declaration last night, it wasn’t as harrowing. He hadn’t laughed at her nightgown. Surely she could trust him with this situation as well.
Boone didn’t come inside until he’d done a complete inspection of her in her dressing duds. She was wearing her corset and liked the way it cinched in her waist and pushed up her bosom. Upon first wearing it, it had made her feel self-conscious, like she was a peacock strutting around so everyone would notice what was being emphasized. Once she realized that everyone from Mrs. Penney to her mother-in-law wore the same apparatus, she didn’t feel as guilty. In fact, the apparatus had been most helpful in getting Boone to notice her, just like he was doing right now.
“I don’t know what to wear,” she said. “This ensemble that your ma got me is beautiful, and I’m leaning toward it if I’m going to be in front of a gaggle of newspaper people, but Mrs. Penney sets a lot of store by that tale we tell. She expects me to be the country bumpkin, so she might rather I be dressed in the outfit she got me. What do you think?”
Maisie stepped back so he would stop gazing at her and direct his attention to the clothes displayed before him. There was a lot riding on his answer. Boone swore that he didn’t need her gussied up, but ever since she took to dressing fine, he’d started paying court.
He went from one dress to the other while Maisie held her breath, unsure of what she wanted to hear. She’d melt if he told her that he liked her no matter what kind of bizarre costume she wore. On the other hand, if he said he wanted her to wear the new outfit, she’d feel proud. That would show that he appreciated the hard work she was doing to fit in with his friends. Which would he choose?
“We’ve got to tell them our story, right? The poor farmer’s daughter wandering into the rich man’s lair and trapping him with her beauty?”
Maisie nodded. “That’s the plan.”
“On one hand, if you’re all dressed up fancy, the story won’t be as dramatic. You’ll look just like every other rich woman.”
“True.”
“On the other hand, if you wear this monstrosity, you won’t have any reason to dress like that underneath.” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m very much an enthusiast of whatever that is.” He pointed at the lacy shaper and the things it was shaping, but his eyes never left hers.
Maisie felt light and giddy. “I’ll wear whatever you think best.”
“I’m happy with you no matter what you are or are not wearing,” he said. “And I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear earlier.”
“Mr. Bragg.” Mrs. Karol’s voice sounded from Boone’s room below. “Mrs. Penney has arrived. She’s waiting for you and Maisie.”
“I have to get ready.” Maisie stepped carefully around Boone, not sure what would happen if they touched each other but knowing that whatever it was, it’d take more time than she had allotted.
“I think farm clothes would be best for today,” Boone said. “But not those. That’s not what Maisie Kentworth wore.”
“You’re right.” Maisie went to the window and opened it. “I’ll wear what I wore to my first board meeting. Not this.” She lifted the costume and tossed it out the window to fall three stories to the front yard. “But they don’t need to know what I’m wearing beneath.”
“I won’t forget,” he said and left, which relieved and disappointed her.
By the time she went downstairs, Mrs. Penney was pacing before Boone, coaching him on his lines and wondering aloud what was keeping Maisie.
“I’m ready,” she said, and when Mrs. Penney’s face fell at her clothing, which was neither impressive nor ridiculous, Maisie hurried to add, “When I lived on the ranch, this is what I wore to town, so it’s authentic.”
“Too late to change now.” Mrs. Penney smoothed her unruly eyebrow. “The buggy is waiting.”
Maisie sat between Boone and Mrs. Penney. At first she held herself away so that she didn’t crowd Boone by bouncing against him, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the contact. It felt good to be back in the sunshine, behind a trotting horse, wearing comfortable shoes—herself, not the horse—and it felt good to be safe and secure next to her husband.
Boone smiled down at her, and Maisie leaned into him even more.
They turned early, before reaching the Kentworth road, on a new road that led to the visitor center. Maisie would never stop being amazed at the fact that this building was conceived in Olive’s head, drawn on paper, and now stood here in solid rock. She reckoned it was like how she and her ma planted seeds in the spring and had an inkling of what the garden would look like by summer. Only this was a skill she had never acquired, and she couldn’t imagine where shy, retiring Olive got the idea to take up such an interesting hobby.
Buggies were lined up at the north entrance of the visitor’s center, and horses stood at the hitching post. A group of men and a few women waited beneath a shade tree, every eye turning toward them as they rolled up.
“We’re late,” Mrs. Penney said, nearly jumping out of the buggy before it stopped rolling.
“Sorry I took so long to get dressed,” Maisie said.
“I’m not sorry,” Boone replied. He climbed down, then reached for her. Taking her by the waist, he pulled her against him. “Not sorry at all.”
Maisie didn’t see Mrs. Penney coming until she appeared at Boone’s side. “You’re doing marvelously, Boone,” she said, “but save it for the interviews. No one can appreciate your act from over there. Now, come on. They’re waiting.”
To Maisie’s surprise, Boone took charge of the group immediately, introducing himself, welcoming the journalists, and leading them inside the cool, thick walls of the visitor center. Maisie’s cousin Hilda Kentworth came out of the kitchen with a tray of glasses of sweet tea to serve as everyone found their seats in the waiting area.
“What are you doing here?” Maisie asked.
“Hannah and I got hired on. We’re working in the café.”
Which made perfect sense. Her cousins from across the river lived closer than workers in the city. They wouldn’t have a chance for work if it weren’t for the cave. Maisie began to understand some of Boone’s concern for his employees and the importance of keeping them in jobs.
“Thank you for coming out to our Crystal Cave,” Boone announced. “I know some of you traveled for a couple of days to get here, and we appreciate it. This geode was formed when water permeated the walls of the cave. . . .”
Maisie stood off to the side with Hilda and watched the crowd. Confusion started sprouting on their faces like dandelions in spring. Heads were turning, looking around the room.
“I don’t see anything that spectacular,” a man wearing a bowler hat whispered to a woman with a pad of paper on her lap.
“I can’t believe I came all this way to see a rock building,” she agreed. “We have prettier buildings in Lincoln.”
Maisie twisted her mouth to the side. They didn’t think this building was the cave, did they? No one had even noticed the door to the shaft. They had no idea what they were waiting for, but Maisie didn’t want their first impression to be bad. The smarty-pants types who wanted a full discussion about how calcite crystals were formed would be happy to stick around and hear from Boone. The rest of them were looking for a story and to see the site.
“Wish me luck,” Maisie whispered to Hilda, then made her way to the front. Boone followed her approach with his gaze. He seemed relieved when she reached him and he could wrap up his explanation.
“I’m sure many of you will have questions after the tour. My wife and I will be available, but now it’s her turn to say something.” He stepped away from the center of the room so Maisie could saunter up, but she caught him by the arm to keep him from disappearing.
“How are you’uns doing?” Maisie dug her heel into the floor and swayed. “I’m the one who discovered this place, but I can tell from the looks on your faces that you aren’t too impressed. That’s alright. Don’t judge the steak by the way the steer smelled, we say. This building is not what you came to see. What you’re here for is behind that closed door, and we’ll go there in the shake of a honeybee’s tail.”
Her audience settled in with her pronouncement, alert but more content. Maisie dusted off her hands. She might be throwing in a few more colorful phrases than she would normally use, but it was part of the role she was called to play.
“Now, you might not be able to tell, but I’m a farm girl.” Chuckles floated up from the group. “In fact, this bit of land that you’re standing on right now used to be part of my family ranch, but I happened to wander off our property and down into an abandoned shaft belonging to Mr. Bragg.” She went on to describe her journey through the deserted shaft and her amazement at finding the cavern. She kept it short and peppy, knowing that the better she did at stirring up their curiosity, the more anxious they would be for her to finish her talk. Before she lost them, she reached her favorite part of the story.
“My mind was about to bust with what I’d seen. I had to get out of that mine and tell someone, and who should I run into, but the very man who’d least appreciate finding a woman trespassing on his property.”
