Loving Linsey Page 10

  It blinked a slow, lazy blink. Then it dipped its head and strolled toward her with a graceful, rolling gait.

  Linsey grinned jubilantly and scratched the cat between its ears. If it had dashed away from her, it would have taken its luck with it; but by approaching her, it gave Linsey the first ray of hope that the day would be filled with good fortune.

  Her spirits felt light as air as she rose and continued toward Puckett’s Merchandise. Only then did it register that she was the only person in town. She glanced around in puzzlement. Where had everyone gone? Only a second ago, Madame Cecilee had been visiting with Hazel Mittermier in front of her shop, and Mr. Puckett had been sweeping the front walk of his store.

  A burst of distant laughter brought Linsey’s attention swerving to her left, where a splash of brilliant color peered over the hedge tops. What in the name of Gus was it?

  Linsey joined the crowd of townspeople that had already gathered in the empty lot beside the school, where people were pointing and chattering at the peculiar sight.

  “Well, glory be. Would you look at that!” Linsey breathed, approaching closer than anyone else dared to venture. It looked like a bubble lying on its side, and was at least fifteen feet wide and God only knew how long. Scads of ropes were stretched out on the ground, and Robert Jarvis appeared to be attaching some sort of basket to the mouth of the slowly swelling bubble.

  “What is this thing?” she asked him.

  He twisted around and his thick brown eyebrows pulled into a frown. “It’s a hah-dro-gin balloon I ordered months ago. Now go away, Linsey. I don’t need you jinxing it before I even get a chance to use it.”

  She ignored him. “What do you do with it?”

  “You ride in it, of course!”

  “In that?” She gestured toward the panels of purple, green, and gold silk.

  “Not in that, in the basket.”

  She wandered toward the tublike carrier and ran her hands along the woven rim. “But aren’t you afraid of falling out?”

  “‘Course not. This thing is so sturdy—wait a minute, don’t touch those valves, Linsey. I don’t got this thing secured down yet.”

  She pulled her hand away from the odd-looking tanks strapped to the basket. A germ of an idea took seed—not quite visible, yet there nonetheless, struggling for root. “What happens if you twist them?”

  “Gases’ll blast into the envelope and make it rise. This craft’ll go thousands of feet in the air, and come sunrise tomorrow I’ll be soaring with the birds.”

  Oh, lucky Jarvis! How she’d love to soar with the birds, feel the clouds brush her cheeks. Touch the sweet blue sky . . . “But how do you get it back down?” she asked suddenly.

  Clearly impatient with all her questions, Jarvis tossed his hands in the air. “Who says I want it down?”

  “Surely you don’t plan on staying up there forever.”

  “No,” he grudgingly admitted. “When I want to touch ground again, I just pull a lever that opens a flap, but I don’t plan on doing that until I’ve seen the whole country. Now go on and find someone else to pester—I’ve got work to do.”

  She sighed and reluctantly backed away from the craft that seemed to beckon to her adventurous spirit. Though she’d love to stay with all the other spectators and at the very least watch Jarvis finishing filling his balloon, her time was better spent finagling a wedding than dreaming of adventure. How could she keep Addie and Daniel together without any interruptions?

  Suddenly she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze traveled up the brightly colored silk panels, slowly but steadily unfurling toward the wide blue sky.

  A broad, gleeful smile broke out across her face.

  Yep, thousands of feet in the air should solve the problem quite nicely.

  Chapter 8

  Any journey begun with the right foot is likely to be fortunate, while a journey begun with the left foot will bring misfortune.

  “You can’t be serious!” Addie gasped, staring in horror over the bushes into the empty lot beside the school.

  “Why do you keep saying that? Of course I’m serious—it’s the perfect plan!”

  “You expect me to get into that?” She jabbed a finger at the multicolored monstrosity floating a few feet off the ground. Cords connected the circumference of a woven basket to the bulbous sack swaying in the breeze.

  “Not for long,” Linsey replied. “Only until Daniel gets here.”

  She looked so smug, so pleased with herself for coming up with another “perfect plan,” that Addie wanted to choke her. Mutinously, she set her jaw and folded her arms over her bosom. Linsey may have forgotten how the last two attempts had turned out, but she hadn’t. “I am not getting into that—that . . . floating death trap.”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes. Forget the whole thing.”

  “Addie, be reasonable.” With a suggestive lift of her brows and a wickedly mischievous gleam in her eyes, Linsey cajoled, “The two of you, alone, together, with only the wide blue yonder and the wind to embrace you? No interruptions, no escapes. And if you faint, Daniel will revive you and you’ll still have plenty of time to get to know each other. What could go wrong?”

  Setting her finger to her cheek, directing her gaze skyward, her toe tapping a rapid beat, Addie pretended to consider the possibilities. “Hmm, flying miles off the ground in a wicker box over spiky trees and rocky creeks and cliffs? I can’t think of a single thing!”

  “Nothing is going to happen. You won’t be in the air that long, and Daniel will know how to handle the balloon.” She fished into her pockets. “And besides, I brought you my lucky seashell and a fresh sprig of ivy and a piece of coal I found just the other day. It hasn’t even been used yet.”

  Addie plugged her fingers into her ears and began humming to drown out the coaxing tone of Linsey’s voice.

  It was as childish as it was futile, and she knew it even before Linsey caught her hands and pulled them away from her ears. “Look, do you want to marry Daniel or not?”

  Addie met the stern green eyes drilling into her with a glare of her own. What a cruel question. What a doubly cruel manipulation. “You know I do.”

  “Then get into the basket.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Dad blame it, Adelaide! It’s my last wish to stand up at your wedding, but we are running out of time. I’ve done everything in my power to see that you and Daniel are given some privacy so he can realize what a wonderful person you are, what a wonderful wife you will make him. Now it’s up to you.”

  The not-so-subtle reminder of her sister’s fate and her own promise to help fulfill her last wishes whittled away at Addie’s resolve.

  Still, she thought she might have been able to stick to her guns if Linsey hadn’t given her The Look. The one that said, “I’m counting on you.” The one that always made Addie dig deep for her courage and buck up her bravado. She’d never been able to resist it. To do so meant she risked disappointing her sister. Or worse, being left behind. She’d experienced that before, when her mother married Linsey’s father, and she didn’t care for the emptiness it bred.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll get into the blasted balloon.”

  Linsey beamed. “I knew you would. Now hurry, before Jarvis returns. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a crowd behind him, since everyone knows he’s pulling up stakes this morning. Unless we want to lose this chance, we have to work quickly.”

  Oh, this is getting better and better! Addie thought. All she needed was to wind up accused of stealing someone’s property. And what was this “we” stuff? she wondered, working herself up into a mild snit as they crossed the few yards between the hedge line and balloon. Who was the one getting into the basket? Who was the one risking life and limb to help fulfill a dying wish? Ha! Not Linsey, that was certain.

  Once she reached the ladder, Addie paused and swallowed the heavy knot of panic that stuck in her throat like a lump of clay. The basket didn’t hover high
off the ground, just two or three feet, but it was high enough to make her stomach queasy.

  She forced her foot onto the first rung, then the second, climbing until got her reluctant limbs up the rope ladder. She reached the top and peered into the square basket. It was roomier than Addie had expected, even with the stack of gear along one wall, but that did little to calm her rattled nerves. Already she felt a familiar, chilling anxiety creeping into her blood, rising to her head.

  She stepped gingerly over the side and lowered herself into the cube. The balloon wobbled and swayed. Addie clenched her eyes shut and willed down a bout of nausea.

  “This is perfect!” Linsey exclaimed from behind her. “Ooh, wrap yourself in those furs, Addie. If Daniel doesn’t see you right away, he’ll climb inside.”

  While Linsey oozed exuberance, it was all Addie could do not to scramble out and race for home. Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the furs twice before finally getting them draped around her shoulders. “What if he refuses to come with you?” she asked, unable to control the quiver in her voice.

  “Don’t you worry; just leave Daniel to me. Are you comfortable?”

  Huddled in the furs, Addie nodded hesitantly.

  “Good. Oh, Addie!” Linsey clapped once. “This is going to be perfect!” she repeated for the umpteenth time. “Now, stay here. Don’t come out until you hear Daniel, hear?”

  Again Addie managed a tremulous nod.

  Linsey climbed out of the balloon, pausing at the top of the ladder to look over the rim at her. “Remember, Addie, wait for Daniel.”

  With those words she was gone.

  An instant sense of rising made Addie go as still as a bookend. Oh, my heavens. Was the balloon pulling loose? Would she be stuck going aloft all by herself?

  Moving nothing but her eyes, Addie peeked over the rim at the wavering space between herself and the ground. A wash of dizziness suffused her, and she felt herself swept back in time to a bank of rocks lining Horseshoe Creek. Addie remembered the place clearly, just as she remembered an eleven-year-old Linsey standing beside her, bubbling over with enthusiasm Addie couldn’t imagine feeling as they peered down into the wrinkled ribbon of water below.

  “The only way to cure your fears is to face them head on. C’mon, Addie, it’ll be fun!”

  Linsey’s idea of fun had wound up being six weeks of excruciating pain and confinement for Addie while her leg mended. The only good that had come out of the ordeal was that Daniel had accompanied Doc Sr. to Briar House during her convalescence.

  The balloon lurched again, straining against its tethers. Tears sprang to Addie’s eyes, and she gripped the side of the basket in a deathlike clutch. Even as she loathed the fear stealing in, neither could she find the strength to fight it off.

  She couldn’t say how long she waited for Linsey to return with Daniel, but it felt like hours when, finally, cowardice won the war.

  Enough was enough, she thought, pressing her lips together and lifting her leg over the side. Not for anything would she go up in this balloon.

  Not even for a chance to become Mrs. Dr. Daniel Sharpe.

  He wasn’t at the apothecary. He wasn’t in any of the shops Linsey passed along Wishing Well Lane. What if he’d been called away?

  That thought increased Linsey’s sense of urgency as she hastened down the center of Horseshoe. She knew better than anyone how Addie liked having both feet firmly on the ground, yet she’d all but bullied her sister into getting into the balloon.

  Linsey told herself it was for a good cause. Still, she refused to leave her sister alone in that basket for long, even if it meant abandoning such an ideal plan to bring her and Daniel together.

  A sigh of relief burst from her lungs when she spotted him leaving the saloon.

  “Daniel!”

  The minute he spotted her, he frowned and turned away. Obviously he still hadn’t forgiven her for the other night. But then, that was nothing new, was it?

  She hurried forward and gripped his rumpled linen shirt sleeve. Muscles tensed beneath her fingers, but at least he stopped. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “No, Daniel, you must come with me.”

  “Not if I were stricken down with malaria and you were the last bottle of quinine.”

  He shrugged free of her hold but Linsey wouldn’t be deterred. “Please, Daniel. It’s Addie—she’s in Jarvis’s balloon.”

  The note of panic she’d injected in her voice had no effect on him.

  “Then tell her to get out.”

  “She won’t come out for anyone but you!” It wasn’t a lie; Addie always did as she was told—though admittedly it sometimes took some convincing—and until she heard Daniel’s voice, she would stay put.

  He blew out an impatient sigh. “Is she ill?”

  Uh . . . did lovesick count? “Why else do you think I’d fetch you?”

  “If it’s a doctor you need, fetch my father. I’ve been up half the night with one of Rusty’s girls, and I’m in no condition to be treating anyone.”

  Linsey felt her cheeks pale as her glance moved to the saloon, then back to Daniel. For the first time she noticed the shadowed stubble of whiskers, the lines fanning out from bleary eyes, the scent of soap and . . . woman.

  Appalled that she could have missed such glaring signs of a night spent in debauchery, Linsey’s spine stiffened. “You’re right. If my sister needs a doctor, I should fetch your father.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Simply that I expected better of you.” Linsey gave his rumpled appearance a disapproving once-over. “I’m certain that he wouldn’t have spent half the night in a brothel, then refused to tend a lady in need. And you call yourself a doctor.”

  Linsey whirled away, sharp needles pricking at her heart. She didn’t examine why hearing that he’d been with another woman stung so badly. What right did she have dictating where Daniel spent his free time? None. But still . . . it had never occurred to her that he might visit the upstairs rooms at the Rusty Bucket. How could she have been so wrong?

  Heavy bootsteps sounded behind her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Go away, Daniel. Go back to your doxies. We don’t need your help.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have asked for it.” He continued to keep pace with her.

  The thought of her sister waiting for Daniel added guilt to the emotions already churning inside Linsey. How was she to break the news to Addie? Once she learned that the man she all but worshiped was nothing more than a skirt-chasing rogue, it would break her heart.

  Then again, Linsey thought with a furrowed brow, Noah had been quite the ladies’ man before he’d met Jenny.

  If Daniel had a good woman waiting at home, he’d have no reason to stray, right? All right. She’d let him live a while longer; but if he ever betrayed Addie, she would haunt his sorry hide for the rest of his born days.

  They reached the balloon, the silk panels filled to bursting and stretching at least twenty feet in diameter.

  She and Daniel paused to study it for a moment.

  “Are you sure she’s in there?” he asked.

  “Positive.”

  With a deep, resigned sigh, Daniel approached the basket.

  Linsey hadn’t intended on watching, since Jarvis would be back any minute; but as Daniel ascended the ladder, she couldn’t help but marvel at him. Not only did he have the agility of a pole climber, but he had the nicest rear she’d ever seen on a man. The flaps of his coat parted with each upward step, baring long muscular legs and firm buttocks in snug brown wool.

  Warmth blossomed in her belly. Her mouth went dry. Her hands tingled. She imagined wrapping her arms around him, running her palms along the smooth curves—

  Linsey gave herself a mental shake to jar loose the alarming image. For the love of Gus, she was no better than Daniel’s woman of the evening! No, she was worse, for she’d been brought up not to covet anything
that belonged to thy neighbor—or thy sister. And here she stood, ogling thy sister’s intended’s rear.

  Mortified, she hurried from stake to stake and hauled on the ropes anchoring the balloon to earth. Just as she started to loosen the fourth and final tether, she heard Daniel holler, “There’s nobody in here.”

  Linsey’s spine went taut. “What do you mean, nobody’s in there?”

  “Just what I said. There’s nobody in here.” He enunciated each word as if she had a hearing problem.

  Or a mental deficiency.

  “But she’s got to be in there!” Forgetting the last rope, Linsey hastened toward the ladder dangling against the basket’s side. “Addie? Come on out.” Linsey flipped aside the panel of her fur-lined pelisse, thrust her left foot onto the first rung and heaved herself upward. With only one mooring intact, the craft swayed and bobbed. “Addie, Daniel’s here.”

  The only answer was a sudden rending sound. Then, the craft gave an ominous tug. Linsey went stock-still. Holding fast to the ladder, she called in soft panic, “Daniel?”

  Then the last rope snapped.

  Addie had just reached for the doorknob when an uneasy sensation made the hair on the back of her neck raise. She couldn’t say what compelled her to look over her shoulder, but when she did, the sight of the multicolored ball rising above the church-house steeple sent alarm spiraling through her. Her hand shot to her mouth, catching a gasp. “Oh, no! Oh my heavens, no!”

  She shook her head as if to dislodge the dread coiling through her. Not for one minute did she doubt who at least one occupant of the balloon was. And if Linsey had managed to coerce Daniel into the basket . . . oh, the possibility didn’t bear thinking!

  The crunch of wheels over gravel and the jingle of harnesses swung her attention to the horse-drawn flatbed rattling toward town. A familiar brawny figure in a flannel shirt and floppy-brimmed frontier hat spurred her into hitching her skirts past her ankles.