Page 50 of The Formation of Us
“If your mother says it’s all right.”
Faith put her fingers over Cora’s mouth before the girl could ask. “We’ll talk about it later. Watch the show, sweetheart.”
Adam and Cora shifted their attention back to the show where a clown was getting chased by a bull. The clown threw his floppy hat in the air and leapt over a barrel, making Adam grin, and sending Cora into a fit of giggles. Faith exchanged a look with Duke, needing his solid presence and the security he gave her.
“Sorry about the pony” he mouthed.
“You’re spoiling her,” she mouthed back.
He smiled. “I can’t resist.”
She felt her own lips twist. “I know.”
“I can’t resist you either, Faith.”
She watched the tip of his tongue caress his teeth as he finished mouthing her name, and she remembered the thrilling feel of his mouth and tongue when he kissed her in the bathhouse—and she wanted more. She lifted her gaze to his deep brown eyes that had gone from warm to smoldering.
“I’m glad you said yes today,” he said quietly.
“Me too.” She was glad for many reasons. Cora and Adam needed the treat. She needed to see them happy. And she needed to see Duke as a mate and a father, and as a man who could love and protect them.
While the circus went on around them, Faith and Duke studied each other, their gazes straying from mouth to eye to mouth again, until Faith was aching for his kiss. She liked what she saw, and wished they were alone in her bathhouse.
Adam’s burst of laughter not only startled her, it shocked her. Cora giggled wildly at two clowns in the ring, pretending to be boxers, taking wild swings at each other, pummeling each other’s red noses, stumbling, falling, and popping back up like puppies. The crowd roared with laughter, but it was hearing Adam’s laugh that was Faith’s most treasured moment of the day.
o0o
Six o’clock that evening, Duke returned Faith and the children home. He couldn’t have been more tired if he’d chased Arthur Covey across three counties, but the joy on Faith’s face made the ache in his shoulder and the exhaustion in his body worthwhile. Cora darted inside the building they were living in, with the bulging sack of peanut brittle he hadn’t been able to resist buying her.
“Look what we got, Aunt Iris!” she called.
“Thank you for taking us to the circus, sir.” Adam bobbed his head at Duke, then stepped inside. Duke expected the boy to keep going, especially since Adam had seen MacEnroy and Wayne Archer talking to him in the park after church that morning, but the boy turned back. “The ice cream was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” He scooted inside then, leaving Duke alone with Faith.
She looked tired, but far happier than she’d been that morning. “I’ve never been to a circus,” she said. “I’m glad my first time was with you.”
He wished her first time making love could have been with him, but it was too late for that, so he would gladly be her last. All day he’d kept his conversation mild for the children, not al-lowing his gaze to rove her body, but he remembered how she looked in the bath that morning, dripping wet and beautiful, the more so for her tears.
Cora skidded to a stop in the open doorway. “Thank you, Sheriff Grayson, for taking me on a train ride and to the circus and for getting me a pork sandwich and ice cream and peanut brittle, and for the ride on the elephant and . . .” She scrunched her face and thought for a moment. “And for letting me sit on your shoulders to see the clowns ride the ponies.”
He laughed because she was such a little blabbermouth, and because her enthusiasm and the awe in her eyes was so real.
“You’re welcome, princess. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time,” he said, wanting more days like this, more time with Faith and her family, and hopefully more time alone with Faith in her bathhouse.
Iris stood behind Cora in the doorway. “I just made a pot of vegetable soup, Sheriff. It won’t be your best meal, but you’re welcome to stay for supper.”
A look of horror replaced the smile on Faith’s face. “I’m not eating,” she said. “I mean, I thought I would treat your shoulder now.”
Before Duke could answer, Iris pushed the door wide open. “This man took you to the circus today. The least we can do is feed him his supper—even if it isn’t much.”
Duke didn’t want to make their meal any lighter by eating part of it, but Faith, who looked ill, stepped inside and left the door open for him. He stepped in behind her and understood immediately why Faith didn’t want him here. The room was barren, and the only piece of furniture was the table.
Iris waved him toward makeshift benches, unashamed. “Pull up a barrel, Sheriff, and make yourself at home.”
Faith gasped, her embarrassment so acute it moved him to pity, not because of the condition of her home, but because her poverty shamed her so deeply.
“You can sit with me on my board, Sheriff Grayson,” Cora said without a drop of concern as she galloped to the table.
Duke lifted the little girl onto the wide board laid across two flour barrels. “Did you design this bench?” he asked, wanting to ease Faith’s discomfort.
