Near The Wild, by Maureen Willett
I didn’t notice much about his face at first. It was his hair that caught my eye. It hung just
below his jawline and was beautifully cut, as was fitting for a man of his wealth. The thick,
raven-colored ringlets framed his angular face in an almost angelic fashion. He gracefully
moved his tall frame toward me on the narrow, wooden walk in front of the store.
Normally, this stretch of sidewalk in Colton was quite busy in mid-day. I would nod and
greet just about everyone, feeling obliged to make it apparent that my mother raised her children
to have manners, but it just happened to be an odd day, so he and I were the only ones passing by
each other. Because the sidewalk was so narrow, he stopped, made a slight bow with his head,
and let me pass, keeping his eyes downward in a polite manner. The silver grey of his tailored
suit and well-turned silk cravat glistened in the sunlight. He carried a top hat in his gloved
hands. His fingers looked long and slender through the kid leather.
Grateful for his polite gesture and thinking his eyes were still averted, I glanced at his face to
get a better look at this polished, dapper young man, only to be surprised by the flawless white
complexion. His high cheekbones, straight nose, and perfect, creamy skin must be the envy of
every woman in Colton, especially those who had grown up plowing fields in the sunlight and
now had faces resembling tough leather.
Believing I’d seen an angel come down from heaven, or at least one of those men who would
never marry and spend his life seeking the company of other men, I looked into his eyes. It was
then I realized my mistake. There, in the blue-green depths, was a lustful intent that unnerved
me to my core. I almost stepped back in surprise. His dark, arched brows went up in mock
politeness.
But it was his indecently shaped mouth that would be a girl’s undoing. His upper lip was an
arched bow and naturally ruby colored, reminding me of the blood-red painted lips of that fancy
woman on the train. And his lower lip looked swollen with untethered desire. Oh, to have that
mouth touching my body! The thought entered my head before I could shake it loose and made
my knees weak. Those lips were a sensuous beast all their own.
With a beautiful smile, he made his desire to see me without my petticoat quite clear. I
gulped and almost lost my footing as I walked away, quickening my step to hasten my retreat
from the depths of his alluring blue-green eyes and harlot’s mouth. My heart pounded and my
face heated as I ran toward the safety of my brothers, away from the unconventionally handsome
Mr. Fuerst.
1
Near The Wild, by Maureen Willett
It was a common fact in Colton that he was the only heir of a royal fortune. It seemed his
father had been a prince in Germany but was banished to America for marrying a commoner.
Mr. Fuerst was here to build a mansion across from the new train station, because his father was
one of the investors in the transcontinental railroad that would one day connect Kansas to
California. Apparently, he built the largest mansion in the area of Colton that was now
burgeoning with homes for the emerging upper class, Bell Street. Colton was the end of the
railroad line on the western side—at least for now—and the young Mr. Fuerst would be our
resident patriarch. The next time I’d run into him would be under quite different circumstances.
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