That was some damn fine speech-making," Fred said, then uncapped a fresh bottle of whiskey and handed it to Sam.
He was just raising the proffered drink to his lips, when a young woman came into his line of vision. She was waltzing to the music with a pair of little boys, curtseying grandly to their awkward bows, then allowing them to lead her about with exaggerated chivalry.
She couldn’t have held a drop of Indian blood in her veins. Her skin had the color and translucence of the finest bone china, which was blushed to the hue of ripening peaches along the tops of her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She seemed too fine for the roughhewn settlement around her, as out of place as a wedding cake at a cow camp.
As if sensing his eyes on her, the young woman turned and looked directly at Sam, then rewarded him with a sultry comehither smile. Something in her expression was at once girlishly innocent and sensuously provocative.
Sam nudged Fred. "Who’s that?"
"That’s Miss Jennie Tolbert. The new school marm," Fred replied.
"Rumored to be the most beautiful woman in Indian Territory, or so my ears have it," Hugh Campbell added.
"I don’t know about you, Campbell, but it ain’t my ears a woman like that works on," said Harris McClain.
Fred and his companions exchanged a knowing grin as Sam stood staring. The whiskey bottle had stopped halfway to his mouth.
"You gonna drink that or hold it?" Fred teased.
Sam studied the mesmerizing young woman for another long moment. "Boys," he said slowly, "there ain’t but one sound better than the gurgle of a full bottle, and that’s the low moan of a sweet woman." He pushed himself off from the fence and made his way toward Jennie Tolbert.
When she saw him approaching, Jennie shooed the two boys away. She pulled a lacy white fan from her skirt pocket and fluttered it beneath her chin, pretending not to notice that Sam was headed straight for her.
"Miss Tolbert?" Sam began, "I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome you to Smith Paul’s Valley. My boys Buck and Bill are eager to begin attending your classes," he lied deftly.
"That was a fine speech you gave us, Mister Paul," Jennie offered sweetly.
"I thank you, though I don’t believe my opponents thought much of it. Truth be told, there’s more than a few men in this territory wouldn’t mind pressing their point with the tip of a bullet."
"And yet you’re not afraid to speak your mind?"
Sam opened his coat to reveal the little .32 caliber pistol hidden in the inner pocket. "They got a hell of a lot more to fear from me."
"What a cute little gun!" Jennie teased. "But I thought a man of your stature would wield a more impressive… instrument?" she added seductively.
"It ain’t the caliber, Miss Tolbert. It’s all in how a man handles what he’s got that makes the biggest impression," Sam replied, thoroughly enjoying the flirtation. "Only a man that can’t shoot straight needs a gun bigger than this."
Jennie’s laugh was the easy innocent twitter of a young girl, but her banter was spiced with worldliness. And her figure was anything but girlish. It swelled voluptuously in all the right places, a series of firm curves that Sam thought would fit perfectly into his hands. He couldn’t work out whether he wanted to protect her or ravage her.
"Are you here by yourself, Miss Tolbert?" he asked playfully. "You don’t look hardly old enough to be out and about by your lonesome."
"Why, you insult me, sir! I turned nineteen this past May! I journeyed all the way here from Saint Louis on my own."
"Then you’re old enough to taste a little liquor," Sam said, escorting her gently to the sidelines where the others could not see and offering her the bottle.
Jennie put her hands on her hips in mock offense. "I have a reputation to uphold, Mister Paul!"
But Jennie glanced about to make certain no one was watching. Then she wrapped her long delicate fingers around the bottle and raised it to her lips. She didn’t stop at a single dainty sip, but took several long hearty swallows before handing the bottle back to Sam with a self-satisfied smile.
She could have knocked him over with a feather.
"Is this what you do with all the girls, Mister Paul?" Jennie teased coyly, "Get them tipsy on moonshine so you can press your advantage?"
"Ah, you’ve foiled my plot, Miss Tolbert," Sam said with a grin.
"Well it shan’t work with me. I know how to hold my liquor," Jennie proclaimed, then she hiccupped charmingly behind two fingers.
Sam couldn’t know it, but Jennie had noticed him long before he noticed her. She had no intention of remaining the valley’s school marm for one minute longer than necessary. The fact that she’d waltzed into Sam’s view had been no accident. She was even better at the game than Sam had been with Lucy. She maneuvered him wherever she wanted him to go, all the while letting him think he was doing the leading.
They spent the rest of the day together, dining, dancing, and talking, utterly oblivious to the people around them.
"Mister Paul, I simply must be getting home now," Jennie said, weaving a little from the whiskey.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Tolbert," Sam said with exaggerated courtesy. He bowed low and brushed his mustached lips against her knuckles, as he had done with Lucy years ago.
To his surprise, Jennie neither wilted under this overtly sensual behavior, nor stiffened with indignation. Instead, she pursed her mouth and wafted a kiss toward him, then threw him a promising smile before walking away.
Sam gazed after her, filling his senses. Whatever length of time might pass before seeing Jennie Tolbert again would seem an eternity.