Medicine Creek (Wind River Book 4) by James Reasoner & L.J. Washburn

Author:James Reasoner & L.J. Washburn [Reasoner, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Book Place
Published: 2011-08-16T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Michael was already mentally writing the story of what had happened tonight when Deborah Munroe came up to him. The crowd had dispersed, the men all heading home to try the tonic they had bought. Michael had purchased another bottle, since the small sample Munroe had given him that afternoon was already gone.

The bottles the professor sold were larger, containing enough of the tonic to last quite a while, since Munroe had cautioned the audience not to drink too much of it at one time. It was too potent for that, he had said.

The weight of the bottle in Michael's right-hand coat pocket pulled the coat down on that side. He was trying to straighten it when he found himself looking at Deborah. She smiled at him in the light of the lanterns that were hung from the wagons.

"Hello," she said. "You're Mr. Hatfield, aren't you? The editor of the local newspaper?"

"Ah . . . yes, I am." Michael blinked. This was the closest he had been to Deborah, and she was even more lovely than he had thought. A poet would have described her eyes as blue pools, he thought, and her skin was like cream. His eyes dropped for a second to the proud thrust of her full breasts against the silk of the daring costume.

He jerked his gaze back up, hoping she hadn't noticed his impropriety.

She gave no sign that she had. She said, "A gentleman such as yourself must have seen a great many wonderful performers. Tell me, Mr. Hatfield, and please be honest— what did you think of my singing?"

"Why . . . why . . . I thought it was the best I've ever heard!"

"Really? I know you're only being kind—"

"Oh, no! Not at all! I mean it, you were really wonderful, Miss Munroe."

"You must call me Deborah."

"All right, and I'm Michael." He couldn't believe he was having this conversation. She was so lovely, and her perfume smelled so sweet . . .

"Are you going to write about our little show in your newspaper?"

"I planned to." He looked more solemn as he went on, "I'm sorry about the disturbance. I know Dr. Kent quite well, and I didn't expect him to be quite so . . . so intolerant."

Deborah sighed and shook her head. "You'd be amazed how many people are so narrow-minded, Michael. They don't want to believe that my uncle's tonic can really help them. I hate to think about the poor souls who have turned away and gone back to their lives of misery, simply because they wouldn't believe!"

"Well, I certainly intend to be fair to your uncle in whatever I write for the Sentinel, if that's what you're worried about."

She laid a hand on his arm, and even through the sleeves of his coat and shirt, the warmth of her touch seemed to sear his skin. "I wasn't worried about that," she said softly. "I wasn't worried about that at all."

Michael swallowed hard, wishing that she could keep her hand on his arm all night.

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