apply for a job?” Faith countered, “I want to work.
“Interesting,” he commented.
“What’s so interesting about that? People apply for jobs every day.” Her temper was beginning to assert itself.
“You mention work,” Reese reminded her, “but you don’t say anything about needing money. It leads to some very interesting possibilities.” He lowered his voice to a husky rumble.
“Do you think I’d apply for a job if I didn’t need money?”
“You might. It would depend on the job.”
If he could pretend not to recognize her from this afternoon, she could do the same. “What’s your interest, Mr. Jordan? Does it matter to you what my reasons are?”
“I understood that the applicants for that particular position would be returning tomorrow.” He sounded nonchalant.
“I won’t.”
“Any particular reason?” Reese didn’t like baiting her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let himself go soft because she had beautiful eyes. Lots of women had pretty eyes.
“I don’t see that that’s any of your business.” Faith picked up her gloves. “I appreciate the offer of dinner, but why don’t we—”
“Eat,” he suggested.
“What?”
“Eat, Miss Collins. Our dinner has arrived.”
Faith wanted to walk away, to throw the offer of dinner back into his handsome face, but the smell of roast beef made her swallow her pride. “But…”
“We can talk after we eat. You must be starving.”
She was. And since she’d already swallowed her pride and succumbed to the aroma of roast beef, she might as well eat it. If she didn’t like his conversation, she would leave after dinner.
Faith fought her natural instincts to wolf down the food on her plate. She forced herself to savor each morsel. She took four bites of everything on her plate, then reluctantly laid her fork down.
Reese looked up from his own meal in time to catch the wistful expression on Faith’s face as she placed her fork on her plate. “Is your dinner all right?”
“It’s wonderful,” she admitted, before blotting her mouth with her napkin.
“Then why don’t you finish it?”
“It isn’t polite to clean your plate in the company of a gentleman.” Faith recited her mother’s axiom.
“Blast politeness,” he said curtly. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
“Breakfast.”
“And when was that?”
“Before dawn this morning,” Faith admitted.
“Are you still hungry?”
Faith stared down at her plate and nodded.
“Then finish your dinner before it gets cold. Even a condemned man is entitled to a good meal.” His words were harshly spoken, but the expression in his eyes was soft. “If you don’t, you won’t get any pie.”
She looked so wounded at this prospect that Reese instantly regretted his joke. “Where I come from it’s impolite not to eat the meal a gentleman buys for you.” He pushed Faith’s plate back in front of her.
“I’ve never heard that before. Where are you from?”
“I’ll tell you if you promise to eat your dinner.”
Faith picked up her fork and resumed eating. He was quiet for so long, she thought he had forgotten to answer her question.
“The West,” Reese told her.
“Wyoming Territory?”
“I live there now.”
She prodded for an answer. “And before?”
“Indian Territory, Texas, and the Dakota Territory.”
“During the war?”
“And before.” He leaned back in his chair, allowing the waiter to remove his empty plate and replace it with a thick slice of apple pie and a cup of steaming coffee.
Faith eyed his slice of pie and began to chew a little faster.
Reese smiled in spite of himself. “You’ll get your piece. I promise.”
Faith finished the last bit of roast beef and pushed her plate aside once again. In a matter of seconds, the waiter whisked her dinner plate away and brought her a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee. Faith tasted her dessert. It was heavenly.
Reese couldn’t keep his eyes off her face as she ate