Chapter Seventeen
Dugan tapped on the front door of Delilah’s cottage and waited. No sound emanated from inside, but he tapped again, just to be sure she wasn’t in the house. For good measure, he tried the doorknob, gratified to find it locked. He’d worn out her ears, he was sure, telling her to be careful, keep the doors locked, and not go anywhere outside of town alone.
He wasn’t any closer to finding Hugh Allen now than he’d been before he’d begun trying to put the pieces of the outlaw’s puzzle together. Still, he had no idea what the man wanted from Delilah or why he’d decided to descend on Baker City.
From what he knew and what Tully found out from some fellow lawmen in Idaho, Allen supposedly lived somewhere in Northern Idaho and had spent years terrorizing folks from there, all the way back to Texas, where he was reportedly from.
The questions gnawed at Dugan’s mind like a dog with a juicy bone, giving him no rest or peace. The only time he found relief was when he let his thoughts settle on Delilah, which was no less distracting, but of a whole different variety.
A variety that made him want to hold her close and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
However, after seeing her so cozy with Seth the last few weeks, he’d given up his pursuit of her. At least for the moment. He wouldn’t kiss her again until she asked him to. And if that day never came, well, then, he supposed it wasn’t meant to be.
But he couldn’t help wishing she’d give him just a hint that she liked him, at least a little. Any number of times, he could have sworn he’d seen interest and longing in her gaze when she looked at him. Even the way she said his name made embers of hope spark in his heart. Yet, just yesterday, he’d seen her strolling down the boardwalk by Maggie’s shop on Seth’s arm. Everyone knew a woman didn’t take a gentleman’s arm during the day unless they were courting.
Then again, she’d taken his arm a few times during the day and he hadn’t given a thought to it.
Delilah wasn’t the type of girl to toss around her affections lightly, though, so he had no idea what sort of game she played or if she had any idea as to what the consequences might be.
Dugan would die for Seth, if it came down to that, but right now, he could pummel him into next week just for stepping out yesterday with Delilah.
Concluding he needed to get his thoughts under control, Dugan walked down the porch steps and out Delilah’s front gate. The scent of lilacs wafted on the breeze and mingled with the cinnamon smell of the pinks blooming in a flowerbed in the corner of the front yard. He inhaled another deep breath and moved around to the gate to the backyard.
He pushed up the latch and stepped into the haven Delilah had created where weeds, dirt, and chaos had previously reigned. Although the trees at the back of the yard had been there several years, and a few bushes survived in spite of Eugene Sutler’s inattentiveness, Delilah had added plants, flowers, a vegetable garden, and lush, verdant grass.
While the front yard was pleasant with small flowerbeds in each corner and bushes along the front of the porch as well as the roses and lavender she’d planted along the picket fence, it was only a fourth of the size of the expansive backyard. And Delilah had utilized every inch of the backyard’s space.
Unlike the popular formal landscaping of flower gardens he’d seen in many Portland homes, Dugan liked Delilah’s unstructured design. At first, he’d thought her garden appeared almost random, but after studying it, he realized each plant and placement had a purpose. The entire layout of the yard was a habitat created for the enjoyment of her birds.
Even now, as he walked across the lawn, he could hear the wheet, wheet, wheet call of a bird he’d heard hundreds of times, but had no idea what is was until he met Delilah.
She’d pointed out every single bird that had decided to call her backyard its home and described its habits, what it liked to eat, when it would nest. She knew her birds as well as she knew her flowers.
However, if he wanted to categorize things Delilah excelled at, he’d have to put kissing at the top of the list. One kiss from her was all it took to scatter his senses and leave him at her mercy.
Dugan had hoped to find Delilah watering her flower beds or sketching birds, but she was nowhere in sight. He glanced down at the board and ropes in his hands and decided to go ahead with what he’d planned without asking her permission.
He shimmied up the big cottonwood tree, careful not to disturb a nest of kingbird eggs. Delilah had climbed up the tree and studied them as soon as she discovered the gray and yellow bird nesting. She’d told him about the whitish eggs with lavender and brown splotches, and how the kingbird male was often among the first to greet the dawn with a song that almost sounded like chip, chip, good morning.
Dugan scooted out on a limb and listened to the excited trill of a junco sitting in the maple tree on the other side of the yard. A month ago he wouldn’t have been able to say what bird sang, or even cared.
Delilah had done that to him. Changed him. Altered the way he looked at the world, particularly nature, especially birds.
The first time she’d shown him a little calliope hummingbird sipping the sugar water mixture she kept in a feeder on the back porch, he’d stared in wonder at the tiny bird that wasn’t even three inches long. It flapped its wings so fast, he couldn’t even see them before it zoomed off with a humming noise and perched on a holly bush. Three times it had come to the feeder then flown back to the bush
And each time, Delilah had squeezed his hand and held her breath, astutely studying every movement the bird made.
Dugan couldn’t help but ponder all the things he’d missed, like watching hummingbirds drink nectar, just because he hadn’t taken the time to observe birds. Delilah called them God’s choir, since they sang, but had such individual songs. He grinned as a meadowlark joined the junco in concert, serenading him as he worked.
It didn’t take long to complete his task. He’d started down the tree when he felt someone staring at him. He glanced down to see Delilah standing in the shade of the tree, watching him as she held Oliver in her arms.
“I can’t believe you climbed up there and did that for me,” she said, beaming with a smile as she walked over to the swing he’d just hung in the tree. He’d spent hours sanding the thick wooden seat until it was completely smooth without any chance of providing a splinter.
“Want to try it out?” he asked with a grin.
“Of course,” she said, setting down the raccoon. She crossed the distance to the swing in a few hurried steps and settled herself on the broad seat. Her hands encircled the thick rope on either side and she leaned back to set the swing in motion.
Dugan stepped behind her and gave the swing a gentle push, making sure the knots held securely before he pushed her any higher. He pushed harder and the swing soared. Delilah’s laughter floated down to him while Oliver rested on his hind legs, watching, from near the birdbath.
He still couldn’t believe the little devil hadn’t bothered Delilah’s birds or sucked any of the eggs, but so far, he’d been well behaved. Delilah had worked hard at training him. Sammy and Brianna had joined in the efforts, determined to win the bet with Tully.
Dugan hated to admit it, but Tully might just have to accept the fact his office would be at the mercy of the two women come June. He’d never tell his boss, but he was secretly cheering for Oliver to succeed. It would drive Tully batty no matter what decorations the women hauled into the office, and that would provide enough humor he wanted to see it. Beyond Tully losing the bet, though, he knew if Delilah triumphed it meant Oliver would make a decent pet.
He’d had his doubts, especially with the rabies scare, but the raccoon had taken to Delilah like he belonged to her. The way she packed him around and spoiled him, he could have been a cat or cherished dog.
“Higher, Dugan!” Delilah said on a giggle, glancing down at him from the lofty height of the swing.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, giving her another hefty push. As the swing glided into the sky, he wished he’d tested it first, just to make sure it would hold. The thought of a rope breaking and her flying off made his heart drop.
He moved to the side and observed her. Pink cheeks flushed from excitement complimented her broad smile. Tendrils of dark brown hair floated like silky ribbons behind her while the breeze ruffled her skirts and kicked up her petticoats. He caught a glimpse of yellow and white diamond-patterned stockings, matching the yellow and white gown she wore.
She looked like a spring blossom, full of light and warmth. And she smelled even better than the flowers blooming around them. He had no idea how to describe her fragrance, but it put him in mind of a flower he’d once found in the desert. They’d had a rain shower and, with that fresh, cleansing scent blending with the sagebrush in the air, he’d happened upon a deep pink blossom with a fragrance he’d never forget. A fragrance that smelled exactly like Delilah.
Seeing her so happy, so vibrant with life, filled his heart with joy. Even if she loved his best friend, all he wanted was for her to be happy, no matter how much it broke his heart.
She smiled at him as the swing slowed. When it was about to stop she jumped off then rushed over and gave him a hug. “Oh, this is the best surprise. Thank you, thank you for the swing. I haven’t played on one in years.”
“I reckon I should have asked before hanging it up there, but I hope you enjoy it. If you’d rather I take it down, it’s…”
Delilah shook her head. “No. It’s perfect. Please don’t even consider taking it down. Besides, I have a feeling Sammy will put it to good use.”
“Most likely,” Dugan said with a grin. “Are you ready for her classmates to visit next week?”
“I think so. I appreciate your willingness to help set up the yard for them.”
Dugan grinned at her. “I just hope they don’t scare your birds and Oliver half to death.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Delilah walked over to the porch and sat on a step. Oliver climbed in her lap and chattered excitedly. She rubbed his back and scratched behind his ears as he settled down.
“I still can’t believe you made him into a pet.” Dugan studied her holding the raccoon, like it was the most natural thing in the world to have a wild animal cuddled up on her lap.
“Some days, I’m rather surprised, too.” She grinned up at him and scooted over, making room for him to sit beside her.
Dugan couldn’t think of a single sane reason to sit that close to her, but he did anyway. Her fragrance filled his nose while her warmth penetrated his side. The slight breeze made loose tendrils of hair engage in a tantalizing dance around her face and along her neck.
Unable to stop himself, he reached out and wrapped a curl around his index finger, rubbing his thumb over the soft threads of her hair. One moment he was leaning toward her to steal a kiss and the next, Oliver was clawing at his vest, growling.
Delilah’s eyes were as big as saucers as she jumped to her feet and reached out for the raccoon.
“Stay back,” Dugan said, afraid she’d be bitten. If Oliver had been bitten or somehow contracted rabies, he sure didn’t want Delilah anywhere near the animal.
He grabbed Oliver by the scruff of his neck and pulled him off then gave him a gentle toss to the side.
Dugan only had time to roll up on one hip and grab his gloves from his back pocket before Oliver was back, pawing at him and growling.
“What’s gotten into you, Ollie?” Delilah asked, moving closer.
Dugan waved for her to step back as he yanked on his gloves and started to get another hold of the raccoon, but the little beggar fished a piece of candy from Dugan’s vest pocket and held it in his paws like a treasure before he began licking the peppermint drop.
Oliver was practically grinning when Delilah released a long breath and resumed her seat beside Dugan. She picked up the raccoon and settled him on her lap again. Now that he had his candy, the little beast acted as docile as a sleeping dog.
“Apparently, he likes peppermint drops.” Dugan reached out and laid a hand on Oliver’s back. The raccoon would have purred if he was a cat as he ate the treat.
“I’m so sorry, Dugan. I had no idea what had gotten into him. He certainly does like sweets, though. I found him trying to pull the screen off the kitchen window yesterday when I was baking cookies. He must have been able to smell them.”
“Can’t say that I blame the little beggar,” Dugan said, grinning at Delilah.
The raccoon finished the peppermint drop. Dugan watched as Oliver licked his paws. The animal gave him a long study before crawling off Delilah’s lap onto Dugan’s.
“I just had the one candy, Ollie,” he said as the raccoon delved into his vest pocket, searching for more treats.
Oliver looked at him and made a chattering noise, as though he instructed Dugan to bring more next time, before he trundled off to curl up in a pool of sunshine near a patch of snap dragons and went to sleep.
“For a minute there, I thought maybe he’d contracted rabies,” Delilah said, leaning back with her elbows on the step behind her.
The position thrust her chest forward and left Dugan so dry-mouthed it felt like he’d been sucking on cotton wadding. Mindful she hadn’t intentionally posed in such a tempting manner, he averted his gaze to where one of the hummingbirds buzzed around a feeder. With green wings and a splash of bright pink on its chest, it was easy to see why the tiny birds blended in to the landscape so easily.
“Oh, he’s back,” Delilah said, sitting up and watching the hummingbird. “Did you know that is the tiniest bird in North America?”
“I think you mentioned something about that the other day when we first spied him. It’s amazing to watch him, though.” Relieved Delilah had moved, Dugan knew he needed to go. He was covering the evening shift, although he wouldn’t have to work all night. He stood and reached down a hand to Delilah when she started to rise, pulling her up beside him. With her standing on a porch step and him on the ground, it put her lips so close to his, it would have been easy to capture them with a kiss.
But he resisted. He took a step back then gave her a heated glance.
Subconsciously, her hand drifted up to her hair and began trying to corral errant strands that had escaped their confines.
Dugan reached up and tucked a long curl behind her ear. Delilah stilled, her gaze colliding with his. What he wouldn’t give to be able to get lost in those gorgeous, dark eyes every night and see them first thing each morning.
“Have you heard about the spring dance this Friday?” he asked, as though the thought of it had just come to him. In truth, he’d been working up the courage to ask her to go with him for days.
“I have heard about the dance. From what I’ve learned, it’s quite the social event of the season.”
A chuckle rolled out of him. “Well, I don’t know about that, but it’s generally a good time. I was um…” He hesitated and cleared his throat. “I was just wondering if you’d consider allowing me to escort you to the dance.”
Her smile melted and she looked almost panicked as she stared at him. “Oh, Dugan, I, uh… I would… that’s to say…” She stopped and drew in a long breath then released it. “I already promised someone else I’d accompany them, but that doesn’t mean we can’t dance together. In fact, I hope you’ll plan on a few dances with me.”
Dugan had a good idea who’d snuck around and asked her first, but he merely nodded his head and backed toward the gate. “I’ll look forward to it then, Dilly. Enjoy your day.” He tipped his hat to her and turned around, heading out the gate to find his supposed best friend.