Love on the Line - Deeanne Gist [71]
He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close to keep them in unison. Even so, the tassel on her hat slapped him with each bound. Reluctantly, he had to admit she hadn’t been lying when she said she could ride without a saddle. She kept her back straight, her body in tune with the horse.
In another minute, he’d slow them down. But for now, he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. He wished he could see her costume in daylight. He felt sure she wouldn’t fool anyone. With their positions as such, he could tell she’d bound her chest. Why go to all that trouble only to wear a lady’s shirtwaist? And that stocking cap was about to drive him—
The cap flew from her head, releasing a bounty of hair and a burst of cinnamon.
She whipped her face around. “My hat!”
A thick braid, loosened from the cap’s constant agitation, began to swiftly unravel.
He tightened his grip on her. “I’ll go back for it later. First, we get you home.”
“But my mother—”
“Shush.”
Reaching around her neck, she grabbed the remains of her braid and pulled it over her shoulder, holding it tight against her collarbone.
Instead of slowing them, he continued at a trot, bouncing as one atop the horse. Finally, when the cottage came into sight, he slowed to a walk, but kept his arm where it was.
She plaited the ends of her braid with quick, efficient movements. “My mother made me that cap.”
“I’ll go get it.”
“I don’t know why we couldn’t have just stopped.”
He guided Honey Dew to the backyard, slid off, then took Georgie by the waist and pulled her to the ground. “You can’t go back.”
She took a quick step away from him, breaking their contact. “Thank you for helping with the float. I could have done it, but it was nice to have some help.”
“You can’t go back.”
“I can and will do whatever I please.”
He felt his jaw begin to tick. “Then you leave me no choice.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m taking Honey Dew and I’m moving the float. You won’t be able to guard it because you won’t know where it is.”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He strode to Honey Dew. “I’ll pick your cap up on my way and bring it back to you in the morning.”
Racing after him, she tried to grab his shirt, but he swung astride before she could.
“Where will you take it? There aren’t any other good hiding places.”
“There are plenty of places.” He spied the broomstick he’d thrown down earlier. “Take your weapon with you to your bedroom and lock the door behind you.”
“I never lock my door.”
He turned Honey Dew toward the Langkwitzs’. “Well, lock it tonight and I’ll see you in the morning.” Tapping his heels into the horse’s flanks, he rode from her yard.
“Luke! Don’t you do this!”
Instead of stopping, he spurred his mare on.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke headed toward the Langkwitzs’, hoping Georgie would have sense enough to stay put. Slowing Honey Dew, he scanned the area for her cap. The moonlight made a shadow of a bump in the road, tricking him into thinking he’d found it, but it was only a clump of debris.
Voices of young men filled with bluster came from just ahead.
“You’ll spoil her, Fred.”
“It’s only a Mai tree.”
“Only a Mai tree, he says.”
A round of masculine laughter.
Luke squinted. Silhouettes of five men carrying a twenty-foot tree emerged at the bend in the road. Adjusting his hat, he moved Honey Dew into the light so as not to startle them.
“Hello!” he shouted.
The boys, armed with axes and a pull-wagon full of empty beer bottles, waved. “Hallo.”
“Who’s the lucky girl?” Luke asked.
They stopped next to him, one of them stroking Honey Dew’s nose.
“Fred’s gal.” A young man indicated another with the nod of his head.
Of the five, Fred seemed to be the only sober one of the bunch.
“What about you?” Fred asked. “You’re getting a late start.”
Luke nodded, allowing them to misinterpret his reason for being out. “I’m fairly new to town. Any particular spot you recommend?”
All talking at once, the boys offered locations for the best crop of Mai trees—each contradicting the other.
“Who’re you leaving a tree for?