Nor could the sheriff, if the tender look in his eyes meant anything.
“She reminds me of my niece Rebecca at that age,” he said. “Too smart, too curious, and a smile so bright she could melt a heart of ice.” He sighed and shook his head. “Rebecca turned thirteen last week.”
With Cora’s rosy face beaming up at them, Faith understood the sheriff’s melancholy. She wanted Cora to stay an innocent, if precocious, little girl forever.
Faith spied her Aunt Iris around the corner, and cringed as Iris lunged from behind a cluster of lemongrass to tickle Cora’s ribs.
“There you are, you little imp!”
Cora screeched with laughter and threw herself against the sheriff’s legs.
Iris, who had crouched to grab Cora’s ribs, took her time looking up the long length of the sheriff’s body. By the time her frank, appraising eyes lifted to his face, Faith’s own cheeks were burning with embarrassment.
“Mercy . . .” Iris said, rising to her feet with a fluid grace Faith envied. Iris carried her mother’s Japanese blood in her veins, and men paid exorbitant amounts of money to bed the rare onyx-haired beauty. Faith knew little about Iris or how she had come to be in America. She was seven months older than Faith, but Iris had seen too much to pretend an innocence she’d shed long ago.
“Is there a woman waiting at home for you, Sheriff?” Iris asked, extending her hand to him.
Faith’s jaw dropped, but the sheriff smiled and lifted Iris’s hand to his lips as if too-bold women propositioned him every day. “I’m afraid so, ma’am. My mother is expecting me home for supper.” His gaze lingered on her silky black hair and the pretty Oriental tilt of her eyes, and Faith knew Iris was as novel to the sheriff as she’d been to Faith when first arriving at the brothel eleven years ago. Iris said a small colony of Japanese people had come to America in 1869, but Faith still hadn’t seen another man or woman like her. Apparently, the sheriff hadn’t either.
Iris laughed the way she talked, without reservation. Her exotic eyes sparkled like black diamonds as she assessed the sheriff. “Not only handsome but charming.” She winked a thick- lashed eye at Faith. “Marry this man.”
“For heaven’s sake, Aunt Iris!” Novel or not, Faith wanted to shoo the woman out the door. They couldn’t afford to have their reputations questioned. Drawing a breath to calm herself, Faith gave the sheriff a wobbly smile. “This is my aunt, Iris . . . um . . .” Dear God, she hadn’t given thought to a last name for her aunts. They had never used last names at the brothel, and they had flown from that life in such a rush of terror, they had never discussed taking last names.
“Wilde with an ‘e’,” Iris said, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Miss Iris Wilde, not to be confused with a wild Iris.”
The sheriff laughed.
“Are you getting married, Mama?” Cora asked, looking up at Faith with hopeful eyes. Faith wanted to turn green and disappear among the plants.
“See what you’ve started, Aunt Iris?” she said.
Iris gave the sheriff a friendly wink. “My niece is so shy she’ll never get herself a suitor or a marriage proposal. I’m just letting you know she’s looking for a husband.”
Faith choked on her outrage.
Iris ignored her warning look and pouted her lips at the sheriff. “I was hoping to beg your assistance for a few minutes. Adam is our man about the place, but he doesn’t know about gas lines yet.”
Faith tried again to convey a message with her eyes, silently warning Iris to clamp her red lips shut. “As soon as the sheriff removes these cuffs from Cora’s legs, he and Adam have business in town. I’ll hire a man to take care of the gas line.” She lifted Cora into her arms and forced herself to face the sheriff. “I apologize for wasting so much of your time.”
“It’s not a waste of time to welcome new residents,” he said. “I’ll look at that gas line as soon as I free this little frog girl from her chain.”
Cora giggled and lifted her feet, asking six questions in the time it took him to unlock the cuffs.
“The cuffs are made of steel,” he said, answering her first question. “Because steel is strong. I put them on bad people so they can’t get away. Yes, my shoulder hurts. Yes, I’ll come play again. And no, I’m not marrying your mother today”
For the first time since the sheriff arrived, Faith willingly met his eyes. “I’m impressed.”
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Lots of practice. I have six nephews and two nieces.”
“Any unmarried brothers?” Iris asked.
“Two older, one younger, all married,” he said. “I’m the last man standing.”
“Not for long, Sheriff.” Iris linked her arm with his and turned him toward the back of the greenhouse.
Faith stared openmouthed at her aunt’s swinging backside, wondering if Iris was matchmaking for her, or worse yet, if the ex-prostitute was angling for the handsome sheriff herself.
Chapter 3
