Christie And The Hellcat Part 36

Christie woke up to find herself in her favorite positionwrapped round Zee. She snuggled even closer.

"Comfy?" came an amused voice.

She gave a sleepy smile. "Very."

Her reward was a gentle squeeze, then a hand began to draw lazy circles on her back. For a while she basked in a blissful haze, enjoying Zee's touch, then it dawned on her . . . something was different.

"What?" asked Zee.

"I was just thinking how quiet it is. What's happened to the Rikers' dogs? At this hour they're usually barking." Christie twisted in Zee's arms and stared up at her. "Or did we oversleep?"

"No." Zee bent her head and pressed a gentle kiss on Christie's mouth. She pulled back and grinned. "Morning."

Christie returned the grin. "Good morning, my love." Her mind returned to the puzzle. "So why aren't they barking?"

"'Cause they're gone."

"Gone?"

"Not just the dogs, the whole d.a.m.ned lot of 'em." Zee brushed a lock of hair out of Christie's eyes. "Left a few hours agowhile you were snoring. Don't know how you managed to sleep through it, the din they were making loading up their wagon." She stretched, the play of muscles under skin distracting Christie.

"I do not snore." She poked Zee in the ribs. "They left? Just like that? I don't believe it." Releasing her hold on Zee, she rolled over and got out of bed. She padded over to the window, drew the curtains, and stared out at the Riker place.

No smoke curled from the chimney, and the open porch door was banging in the morning breeze. There were no curtains at the windows. She turned to look at Zee. The dark-haired woman was sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, hands clasped behind her head showing off her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s in all their glory.

"You're right," said Christie. "The place looks deserted."

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"Just as well," drawled Zee. "'Cause otherwise they'd've had a mighty fine eyeful."

Christie frowned, looked down at herself, and realized what Zee meant. "Oh!" Crossing her arms over her own naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she scuttled back to bed and pulled the sheets over herself.

"No." Zee pulled the sheets down. "I was enjoying the view."

Christie let herself be pulled into Zee's lap. Then strong fingers caressed her belly and ribs, and a warmth whose source was not embarra.s.sment began to spread through her.

She tried to focus on the topic under discussion. "Why did they go? You didn't run them out of town, did you? I thought you said you were trying to turn the boy around."

Zee shifted her attention higher. "Looks like Riker put his own needs first. I thought, maybe, just this once . . . But no."

By now Christie was finding it hard to catch her breath let alone concentrate on the Rikers. "Uh?"

"Knew his standing would plummet when news about Joe's fire-raising got out," clarified Zee. "Couldn't face it. Skedaddled. Plain and simple. Good riddance, I say." She eased Christie onto her back and straddled her, a predatory gleam in her eye. "Now, darlin'. Less talk, more action."

Christie laughed and obeyed Zee's instruction.

GIF.

A delicious smell of frying ham and eggs wafted up as Christie descended the stairs. She sighed. Julie must be cooking again. She couldn't begrudge the girlthis was her way of recompensing them for putting her up, and she was an excellent cookit was just that . . . She chewed her lip and a.n.a.lyzed her feelings. Just that the girl made her feel like a guest in her own home.

Pushing such mean-spirited thoughts aside, she plastered a smile on her face and pushed open the kitchen door.

Julie was standing at the stove, spatula in hand. "Good morning, Christie."

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

Julie nodded.

A clatter of boots on the stairs, the sound of whistling, followed by the crash of the door flying open and hitting the wall, made 236 Christie roll her eyes at Julie (who covered her smile with one hand) and swing round.

"Mmmm, smells good." Zee draped her gun belt over the back of a chair. "I'll just take care of the horses." She sauntered past Christie, giving her a slap on the rump as she did so and escaping out into the yard before Christie could react.

"She's in a good mood," commented Julie. Christie crossed to the window and gazed out at Zee, who was giving the mare and gelding water and hay, and, as she always did, talking to them as though they were people.

"Mm." She smiled and turned back. "Can I do anything to help?"

"No, thank you. It's nearly ready."

Christie sat down and pa.s.sed the time admiring Julie's dress, which was the height of fashion and made of scarlet velveteen if she wasn't mistaken. She fingered her own much more modest outfit, made of shabby gray calico, and suppressed a sigh.

Julie had just finished doling out breakfast when Zee returned.

She washed her hands, wiped them on the front of her check shirt (Christie tried not to grimace), and tucked into her ham and eggs.

Julie's indulgent glance at Zee was not lost on Christie.

"So," she said, taking a sip of the excellent coffee. "What are your plans for today, Zee?"

Zee swallowed before speaking. "Need a new buckboard. Got to order some lumber too." She forked more ham into her mouth then registered Christie's puzzled look. "For the new barn," she said indistinctly.

"Ah."

"You?" Zee arched an eyebrow.

Christie mopped up her egg yolk with some bread. "Laundry and mending." She sighed. "Though I think the dresses Julie and I were wearing yesterday are beyond saving."

Zee reached in her pocket. "Get yourself some fabric. Make yourselves some new ones." She slapped some dollars down on the table and pushed them toward Christie. "That oughtta cover it."

Christie looked first at the coins then at Zee. "Can we afford it?"

Zee nodded. "Won 'em off Millain. Won't be needing 'em where he's gone."

Julie had stiffened at the mention of her guardian, but now her face broke into a smile. It was that which decided Christie. She 237.

scooped up the dollars and put them in her pocket. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Zee drained her coffee cup, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and stood up. "Better get going."

She buckled on her gun belt, settled it more comfortably on her hips, and reached for her hat.

Christie stood up and went to her side. "Are you going to tell Hogan about the Rikers?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him. One good thing, darlin', now the Rikers have skedaddled, you should have no more trouble from Joe."

"Thank heavens!" A thought struck Christie. "It's a long walk into town, and rolls of dress material are heavy."

"Hint taken." Zee draped an arm round Christie's shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll get Bradley's boy to bring the replacement buckboard out to you. All right?"

She smiled. "All right."

Chapter 15.

The hoofbeats and Zee's whistling had faded into the distance when Julie started on the washing up and Christie went to a.s.sist her.

After that, Julie practiced her reading for an hour, then they started on the laundry.

As Christie had feared, the singed dresses came to pieces in her hands. She sighed, set the material aside for rags, and got on with the rest of the wash. She had just finished draping a petticoat over a bush to dry when the boy from the livery stable drove up in a buckboard.

"Miss Hayes," he called, reining in and tipping his hat to her.

"Your buckboard, with Deputy Brodie's compliments." He climbed down and unhitched the horse, then mounted up and rode off.

Christie inspected the wagon with a pleased smile then popped her head round the kitchen door. "Get yourself ready to go to town, Julie," she called. "The buckboard's arrived."

She fetched the gelding from its temporary home beneath the makeshift canvas awning Zee had erected, hitched it, then went back inside for her bonnet, shawl, and drawstring bag. When Julie hurried out to join her, Christie was waiting in the driving seat. That velveteen red dress was magnificent.

Julie saw the direction of her gaze. "Do you like it?"

"It's very fine," said a wistful Christie. "But I suppose not very practical."

"We'll find you something practical and pretty," promised the girl, with a smile.

The promise was soon made good. With Julie to advise on taste and the latest fashion, and Ned Taylor to caution the women about cost and important laundering considerations, they were soon home again with two rolls of very serviceable fabric. Christie had found a 239.

turquoise cotton faille that matched the anniversary necklace Zee had returned to her last night (much to Christie's surprise, since she hadn't noticed it was gone from her jewelry case), and Julie had clapped her hands when she sighted a deep gold silk that would complement her skin tone.

Hoofbeats in the yard made both women look up from the lengths of material strewn all around them, and they glanced at the kitchen clock then regarded one another curiously.

"Sounds like Zee," said Christie. "Wonder why she's home early."

The door banged open and the deputy filled the doorway. She was clutching a piece of paper in one gloved hand. It looked like a telegram.

"Hey, Julie," said Zee. "Good news." She strode across the kitchen and stopped in front of Julie, who stared up at her. "Found your kin. They want you to go and live with them."

For a moment, the girl looked stunned, then her face crumpled and she burst into tears.

A disconcerted Zee gaped at Christie, who stood up and s.n.a.t.c.hed the piece of paper from her. "Give me that." She put her arms round the weeping Julie and gave Zee a furious look. Of all the ham fisted "Haven't you got horses to water or something?"

Zee's expression reminded Christie of a kicked puppy, then her stoic mask dropped into place and she turned and went out into the yard, cursing under her breath. Christie sighed. She had handled Zee all wrong, but she would have to fix it later. Right now, Julie was her main concern.

"How could she play such a cruel joke on me?" sobbed Julie. "She knows I have no one in the world to care about me, except you two."

Christie opened the piece of paper, which was from New Orleans, from the Pinkerton Detective Agency. She read its contents through once, then again more slowly.

"It's no joke," she told Julie. "It seems you have an Aunt Sarah and Uncle William, and they are very much alive." The sniffles stopped and Julie blinked at her from red-rimmed eyes. "Do you remember them?"

A long silence followed and Julie's gaze turned inward. "There was a man, with a big, soft beard," she said at last. "And a woman who smelled of lavender. I don't know who they were. My mother took me to see them. I had ice cream."

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Christie could see the child Julie had been as she spoke. "You must have been very young." She tapped the telegram with a fingernail. "According to this, they wanted to bring you up themselves, but Millain wouldn't relinquish custodyhe said it was your mother's last wish, which it was. Later, he told them you were dead."

"Dead?" Julie's eyes widened. "But"

"They also say you can have a home with them in New Orleans if you want it. They loved your mother very much and they have no children of their own."

"Oh."

"You don't have to make up your mind now," continued Christie.

"You can live with your real family or stay here with me and Zee while we get something else sorted out. There's always that dressmaker's job with Madame Clemence we talked about. I'm sure Zee could convince her to take you on . . . or"

But Julie still appeared overwhelmed by the news and Christie knew it would take some time for her to digest this information, let alone decide about her future. So she stopped talking and rocked the still tearful girl in her arms for a while.

"Think about it. Take as long as you like."

When she was confident Julie was sufficiently recovered from her shock to be left, she went in search of Zee. Dusk had fallen, and the stars were coming out. She followed the smell of tobacco smoke to the far corner of the yard and there found Zee leaning against the fence, looking up at the night sky.

"Julie all right?" asked Zee, her voice gruff.

Christie eased herself under Zee's arm and was relieved when Zee pulled her close. "She will be."

"What about you?" The cigar tip glowed red in the darkness.

"Yes." Christie turned to look up at the strong profile. "Zee, I'm sorry about earlier"

"You did the right thing," interrupted Zee. "I forgot she's only sixteen. Direct ain't always best."

"It usually is," said Christie. "And your directness is one of the things I love about you."