Fearless Warrior: Isaacson Trilogy Book Two

2

"Delores?" he squeaked out and cringed. He glanced ahead to ensure his brothers hadn't been paying attention before he cleared his throat and tried again, "Delores Larson?"

She covered her mouth with a mitten-covered hand and giggled. "What other Delores could there be, you ninny?"

His face flushed with heat, "How do you know she wants me to kiss her?"

Molly's eyes sharpened, and her mouth all but dripped with venom as she said, "Because she wants to find out if you really do give slobbery kisses or not."

She may as well have spit in his face and pulled his hair so thoroughly had she managed to shock him. He looked down the road at Ulric and Gunnar's rigid backs and knew they had heard every word she'd said. Bile burned the back of his throat, and his muscles tensed with anxiety as humiliation began churning within his gut.

"Who said I give slobbery kisses?"

"Well, to name a couple," Molly giggled, ticking each name off her fingers, "Melissa Sanders and Emily Johnson both said your kissing was worse than being licked by Old Man Patterson's ugly hound dog, Boomer."

Esmund's mouth opened in sputtering outrage, but words failed to come to his defense. First of all, he'd never kissed Melissa Sanders—she'd kissed him, and second, he'd never in a million years think of kissing Emily Johnson with her rotten onion breath.

"See you tomorrow, Esmund," Molly said as she turned on her heel and skipped toward home laughing.

When the shock and embarrassment lessened, only one thought repeatedly ran through his mind. It echoed with Molly's loud laughter all the way home. Not only would he kiss Delores tomorrow, but by golly, he would discover who had started the foul rumor...and when he did, he'd make sure they regretted it.

The next day, when Mr. Matthews, their schoolteacher, rang the bell for the afternoon break, Esmund tried not to lose his resolve. There was kissing he needed to do and a point to prove.

Ignoring his brothers, Molly with her cruel smile, and everyone else in the single classroom offering a distraction from his goal, Esmund stood. He adjusted his trousers and suspenders before taking a deep breath and striding over to Delores.

She stood next to her younger sister, Ingrid, and reached for their lunch pails hanging next to their coats. Both girls were utterly unaware Esmund headed her way, determination his only ally. His palms began to sweat the closer he got, so he rubbed them against his thighs and squared his shoulders. He reminded himself that he was a man on a mission, focused on nothing except attaining success.

A clear picture of what would happen once he stood before her formed within his mind. The plan was flawless and sure to elicit the exhilarating joy he'd always dreamt about. He would reach out, turn her to face him and kiss her, thus proving to everyone by the rapturous look on her face that he did not give slobbery kisses.

Esmund came to a stop less than a foot behind Delores. Ingrid nudged

Delores and pointed at Esmund. Startled, pretty blue eyes stared back at him when she turned, and he knew it was now or never. He took a deep breath, placed his hands on either side of her face, puckered his lips, squeezed his eyes shut, and swooped in to press his mouth to hers before he lost his nerve.

Sadly, there were no zings of electricity, as several friends had claimed happened while kissing a pretty girl. He felt nothing except his grumbling stomach reminding him that he'd yet to eat lunch. Nevertheless, there was a point to prove, and Esmund would only stop once he had accomplished it.

All noise vanished as every pair of eyes in the room gave him their undivided attention. However, Esmund didn't break the kiss despite the strong urge to do so. How long were you supposed to keep your mouths together in this situation anyway?

He took a peek and saw Delores staring at him cross-eyed, so he pressed his lips to hers with a little more firmness before breaking contact with a sigh. At last, it was over. With any luck, his demonstration had successfully ended any remaining rumors; now, if he could only wipe his mouth without anyone seeing.

"I can't believe you actually did it, you dummy!" Molly laughed, eliciting laughter from several others in the classroom. "Did you really think she wanted you to kiss her?"

A nervous giggle escaped Delores as a furious shade of red stained her cheeks. Esmund's gut clenched with shame at the embarrassment he had caused her. He should have warned her of his intentions—what would she think of him now?

"Esmund Isaacson!" Mr. Matthews's deep baritone rang through the room, "Your behavior is not becoming of a gentleman!" He grabbed Esmund by the ear and dragged him back to his desk. "As punishment, in addition to your other homework, you will write a seven-hundred-word essay on how gentlemen behave toward the fairer sex, due tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," Esmund murmured, rubbing his sore ear and sitting.

"And there had better not be any mistakes!"

"Yes, sir—I mean, no, sir." His face filled with heat as he bowed his head and gave a surreptitious glance to his brothers. Gunnar leveled a furious glare at Molly while Ulric stood with a face full of rage and advanced upon her.

Mr. Matthews pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his broad nose and marched to his desk, where he sat with a heavy 'plunk' upon his chair. He smoothed the few strands of hair, spreading like spider legs over his balding pate, then thundered, "MISTER ULRIC, take your seat at once. Unless you prefer having additional homework as well?"

Even thinking about it now, fifteen years later, Esmund's stomach cramped, and his mouth grew dry because, although he had kissed Delores and it had indeed proved to his classmates his kisses weren't slobbery, a contrite Ulric confessed later that day he had been the one to start the rumor in the first place.

Esmund learned two lessons that day. The first was that even though his brothers were often the cause of his torment, they were also his fiercest defenders. The second lesson was that 'pretty people'—with a few exclusions—were deceitful individuals never meant to be trusted.

He was the first to admit that he and his brothers were handsome devils, with their muscular builds and attractive features, which all resembled one another. Still, he wasn't so enamored of their looks as to believe they were breathtaking creatures worthy of being labeled 'Adonis' and thus included in the 'pretty people' category.

After all, they weren't the type of men who left a flock of fainting women in their wake. The only bodies left in their wake tended to be dead ones.

Gunnar startled him out of his reminiscing, "Do we know why her friend was attacked and kidnapped?"

Esmund shook his head to drive out any lingering images and cleared his throat, "Not that I know of."

Gunnar stared at Elsie's back for a couple of minutes, his furrowed brow lowering further, "Why didn't they take her as well?"

Before Esmund could do more than shrug, Elsie gave a tentative reply from up ahead. "For the simple fact, they didn't know I was there at the time." She glanced over her shoulder but avoided making eye contact with them. "Otherwise, I'm sure they would have killed me or taken me as well, and then where would we be? Dead most likely, she and I, and you—you never would have known we even existed."

"That wouldn't be such a terrible thing if you ask me," Ulric muttered.

Esmund snickered but quieted when Vernon frowned at him before asking Elsie, "Where were you? Surely you and your friend knew it isn't safe for women to travel alone, especially in Wyoming."

Elsie turned a furious shade of red and kept her eyes fastened on the road. "We weren't traveling alone; there were the two of us up until then, but I needed to attend to female matters, and I was only going to be gone for a few minutes, so we didn't think there would be any harm in separating. When I returned to where Piper was supposed to be waiting, all I saw was—"

She covered her mouth with her trembling hand and looked away before continuing with a voice full of emotion, "Several men on horseback riding away with her and blood underneath her bonnet where it lay on the floor."