Victoria Thompson - Texas Blonde

Asa Gordon read over the note he had just written. He did not like the message it contained, but he would have to send it anyway. The news that Felicity Storm had disappeared- yet again-would please no one, least of all his client. Unfortunately, part of his job was filing reports, even when they were unsatifactory.

He folded this report carefully and stuffed it into an envelope.

"Alexander!" he called. A moment later a harried-looking young man came into Asa's office. "Would you see that this is delivered immediately?" he asked, scrawling a name and address on the envelope and then handing it to his secretary.

"Yes, sir," Alexander muttered, carrying the message out of the room.

When the door had closed behind the boy, Asa allowed himself a weary sigh. Papers. Messages. Reports. Meetings. Was that all he had left to look forward to? The thought depressed him.

He glanced out the window at the busy street below, but his mind was far away, in Texas with the elusive Miss Felicity Storm. For a few minutes he envied operative Smythe his opportunity to explore the wilds of Texas on this difficult quest.

Smythe was one of his best men. If Smythe couldn't find her, she simply wasn't there. Asa knew this. Still, he could not ignore his own pride, which reminded him he had once been one of the "best men," too. If he should go to Texas, if he should look for Storm and the girl…

Was there any reason why he shouldn't?

When she had taken photographs of all the men, Felicity explained that they would have to stop the session for a few hours because the sun was too high. The shadows it cast would spoil the pictures.

Cookie managed to rustle up a cold meal, and soon the men drifted over to the house for dinner. Felicity could not help lingering alone in the yard for just a moment to stare longingly at the empty road one last time. She hated herself for missing him, for feeling hurt at the way he had snubbed her, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"How long do we have to wait?" Cody asked when at last she wandered into the dining room.

"A few hours," she replied, trying to match the other's enthusiasm. "When the sun starts slanting toward the west, it will be just right for photographing the house. I want to get some pictures of all of you in front of it."

This information excited the men all over again, and they began to discuss whether or not to change their clothes. Felicity listened to the conversation with only half an ear. She was straining to catch the sound of a wagon pulling up in the ranch yard.

On the drive out from town, Josh spent a good deal of time considering who this mysterious stranger might be. He figured that the man must be one of Candace's relatives, a brother or uncle if what Hankins had said about the resemblance was correct. What he could not credit, however, was Hankins's theory that the man meant Candace no good. After thinking it over, he realized that a black man, a former slave, traveling alone in Texas would have to be tough in order to survive. Hankins must have mistaken that toughness for evil, bestowing on the man a malevolence he did not possess.

This was the only explanation Josh could find since the very idea that a man would come halfway across the country for some sinister purpose against Candace was preposterous. He would still ask Candace about him, of course. The man might very well have arrived at the ranch already, making such an inquiry unnecessary, but if not, Candace would certainly want to know to expect him.

No longer feeling any urgency about his mission, Josh drove leisurely up to the ranch. He was a little surprised to find the yard deserted when he drove in, but he was pleased to note that the camera was still in position. He quickly surmised from the time that everyone had gone inside to eat. In an effort to distract his mind from thoughts of photographs-and photographers-he reminded himself that he had to see Candace.

Except that he could not find her. Having no other choice, he followed the sound of voices into the dining room.

"Hey, Mr. Logan! You're back!"

"Now Miss Felicity can make your picture!"

The men greeted him boisterously while Felicity tried very diligently not to react at all. She had heard his wagon in the yard, heard every one of his footsteps from the moment he entered the house. She calmly raised her head and looked at him. She would make him no offers. If he wanted his picture taken, he would have to say so.

"I thought you were finished out there," Josh said, stalling.

"Oh no," Cody explained helpfully. "We just had to stop because the sun got too high. We'll be starting up again any time now. We can do you first thing."

Josh knew an inexplicable anger at Cody's use of the word "we," but before he could reply, the very person he had been fruitlessly searching for appeared at his elbow.

"You'll have to change your clothes first, Mr. Josh," Candace ordered.

"I need to talk to you, Candace."

"Course you do," Candace agreed readily, taking his arm and drawing him out of the room. "I'll see he's ready," she called back over her shoulder to Felicity.

Candace did not stop until she had taken Josh into his own bedroom and closed the door. Josh appreciated the privacy.

"There's a man in town-" he began, but Candace wasn't listening.

"I ought to wear you out for what you did," she whispered furiously.

A little taken aback, Josh stared at her. "What did I do?"

"You insulted that poor little girl. She set this whole thing up just to show you how much she appreciates the way you took her in and then you go running off to town like you didn't have anything better to do. You hurt her feelings." Candace glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Josh thought this over and supposed she was right. He hadn't really thought about Felicity's feelings in all of this.

Candace did not give him a chance to defend himself. "Now, you put on them clothes," she said, gesturing to the suit still laid out on the bed, "and get yourself out there and let her take as many pictures of you as she wants." Turning on her heel, she flounced to the door, but before she opened it, she turned back. "And if you're half the man I think you are, you'll apologize, too."

Josh swore as the door slammed behind her, but he wasn't certain if he was swearing at her or at himself. Furiously, he tore off his dusty clothes, all thoughts of the mystery man wiped completely from his mind.

Not quite certain that Mr. Logan would really allow her to photograph him, Felicity still gave her instructions to Cody, who enlisted a few helpers and headed back to the ranch house. While they were gone, she had some of the other men roll up the backdrop she had been using and hang up another one in a new position to take advantage of the altered position of the sun.

Cody and the other men soon returned with the items she had requested from the house, and she directed them on just how to arrange the scene. They put the bearskin rug down first in front of the backdrop and then placed the large wingbacked chair in the center.

Felicity knew she was silly to feel so apprehensive. Mr. Logan was no different from any other man she had ever posed, even if he had kissed her. Still, if he did let her photograph him, she wanted the picture to be the best one she had ever taken. She wanted a good photograph so she would have something to remember him by when…

Not letting herself finish that thought, she forced a bright little smile to her face when she heard the other men greeting him. But her smile froze in place, exactly the way her heart did, at the sight of him.

It was the clothes, she told herself. She'd rarely seen a man so finely dressed. He was wearing a black broadcloth suit that fit his broad shoulders and his long legs perfectly. His shirt was snowy white, and for one electric moment she wondered if it was the same one she had slept in that very first day.

"Come and sit down, Mr. Logan," she said stiffly, gesturing toward the chair.

Josh stepped forward, but he didn't sit immediately. Instead he examined the backdrop she had chosen for him. It looked like the wall in a very fancy house. A parlor house, Josh thought, disgusted.

Felicity studied the stubborn set of his jaw as he examined the backdrop, uncomfortably aware of how tall he was. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Last night she'd had to stand on tiptoe to… "Is anything wrong?" she asked hastily, struggling to banish that picture from her brain.

"No," he said, resigned to the inevitable, and seated himself in the chair. She stood in front of him, her small breasts directly in his line of sight. He stared for one long moment, recalling only too clearly how they felt pressed against him.

"Oh, dear!" Felicity cried, pressing a hand to her chest. For a second Josh thought she was trying to shield herself from his lascivious gaze. "I forgot to prepare the plate. Don't move," she cautioned him as she darted back to the wagon.

Inside the dark wagon, Felicity chastened herself for becoming so flustered. She would have to get a grip on herself. With fingers that trembled slightly, she carefully coated the next plate. By the time she exited the wagon and handed the plate holder to Cody, she was feeling much calmer.

She returned to posing her subject, noting with approval that he was wearing a new Stetson, not the stained one he usually wore. She lifted it carefully from his head.

"Hey, What're you doing?" he protested, reaching for it.

"I'm going to put it right here on your knee," she informed him, proud that she was able to treat him just as she had treated all the other men. "Now put your hand right here, like this, and hold it." With finger and thumb, she made a minor adjustment to the angle of his wrist, trying not to notice how warm his skin felt through the cuff of his shirt. He smelled clean and fresh, like outdoors, and faintly of tobacco, and so blessedly familiar. "Now rest your other hand on your other knee," she said a little breathlessly.