Free 11th Hour Rose by Melissa Lynne Blue Page B

advice—”
    “I don’t.”
    “—walk past the card table and go straight upstairs with the redhead.”
    “I’ll take that under advisement.” Jacob tipped his hat and strode away with a grin. More than a few wistful young ladies gazed after him, no doubt hoping he’d change his mind and ask them for a dance. Not likely. Jacob was far more interested in drinking, cards, and women that didn’t require more attachment that an hour’s worth of coin.
    Craig shook his head. “I’d go along to keep him out of trouble, but Marissa will have my head if I go into Schooners .”
    Davy chuckled. “I heard what happened the night before your wedding.”
    Craig paled. Even five years later the young doctor was loathe to speak of the events surrounding his nuptials. Needless to say, it was understandable why his wife expected him to avoid the saloon.
    “Don’t worry,” Davy quickly shifted topics, “I’ll swing in later to make sure Jake doesn’t get himself shot.”
    Craig nodded. “Probably wise.” His gaze shifted out over the dance floor, and he raised a hand in greeting. “Speaking of wives, mine is summoning me.”
    Davy watched as his brother crossed the pavilion to join his wife. The band ended one lively tune and smoothly transitioned into a sweet waltz. Craig lovingly kissed Marissa’s brow and twirled her into his arms for a dance. She in turn beamed up at him with all the joy of a newlywed.
    The sight struck a chord so deeply buried within Davy’s soul he could not readily identify it, but it was not an unpleasant chord, it was… nice. Good. Right… And when he closed his eyes Lilly’s face glowed within his mind’s eye.
    He snapped his eyes open. Hell. What did that mean? Nothing good of that he was certain. Davy wiped a palm over his face. Perhaps he would join Jacob at Schooner’s after all. He turned crisply on a heel and stopped dead in his tracks.
    Lilly.
    She stood off the corner of a wooden outbuilding washed in the golden glow of a lantern, her huge blue eyes raised up, searching his face. Concern and something more… perhaps disappointment... laced her pretty visage.
    “Davy,” she whispered, taking one step toward him.
    The innocent movement rocked through him, shaking him to the core So much promise lived in that one small step, as though all he need do is close the remaining distance between them  to discover something new… forbidden… something he’d denied himself for a very long time.
    He jerked back a step, the movement instinctive and bred of pure self-preservation.
    Lilly stopped, a flicker of hurt dimming her eyes. She crossed her arms and raised her chin. “You’re leaving?”
    “I am.”
    “I see.” Her gaze drifted away for a moment before she turned back to him. “What happened on the dance floor, Davy? We need to talk about it.”
    “I warned you about Brady.”
    She shook her head, loose tresses swirling around her throat. “No. There is more going on here, Davy. More between us.” She gulped nervously, appearing unsure of how to proceed. “For a moment I thought you might…” her voice dropped to a bare hush, a hint of wistfulness in her tone, and her wide round eyes, so blue it could break a man’s heart just to look at them, pierced him to the core, “kiss me.”
    Panic pierced his gut with lightening force. Typical Lilly, direct to a fault, her words never failed to shoot straight to the core of a problem. He steeled his nerves. “You were mistaken,” he replied coolly, ignoring a pang of guilt. Better to disillusion her now before this little infatuation went further. He was leaving. Leaving. In a few short weeks Lilly Hudson would be but a memory.
    Fire flared back to life in her eyes, eclipsing the flash of pain. She stalked forward. “If you’re leaving and have no intentions toward me then I don’t see what gives you the right to chase off my prospects.”
    “If Marcus Brady is your idea of a prospect then you’re better off