by Mary Wehr
“Lots of luck,” Wilbur mumbled.
Jake removed his boots and set them on the porch before entering the house. Despite the firm advice he had given Wilbur about handling his wife’s temper, the last thing he wanted to do was drag dirt into the house and add more fuel to the fire.
Poking his head around the doorjamb, he saw Martha busy at the cook stove. He padded lightly into the kitchen and spun his hat in his hands while gauging her mood.
“You can sit down, Jake. After all, this is your home.”
Jake pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. He cleared his throat several times before he said, “Something sure smells mighty fine in here.” Complimenting Martha about her cooking never failed to smooth her ruffled feathers.
“It’s your favorite, but don’t think compliments about my cooking will stop me from speaking my mind.”
“I never gave it a thought,” he remarked dryly.
Martha placed a heaping bowl of chili in front of him along with several slices of homemade bread and freshly churned butter. She poured two glasses of cold tea and joined him at the table.
“You spoil me, Martha.”
“Because both Wilbur and I love you dearly.” She studied his face. “You look tired,” she said, concern shining in her eyes.
“I am.” Jake swallowed a spoonful of chili. “I have to go back into town and close up for the night.”
Martha clicked her tongue in dismay. “There must be someone you can trust to do that for you once in a while. What about Hank? He’s been working there since your pa bought the place.”
Jake took a moment to ponder her suggestion. “Hank’s a good man, but I don’t like to keep him any longer than I have to. His ma is sick.”
Martha reached across the table and touched his hand in a matronly manner. “Don’t let one mistake take over your life.”
“That one mistake was a humdinger, Martha. Now don’t go getting sappy. I like it better when you’re annoyed at me.”
“Not so much annoyed, I’d say concerned.” She got up from her chair and rounded the table. “But you’re a grown man quite capable of making his own decisions.” She bent down and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight.”
Once Jake finished off the chili he went to the sink and washed out his bowl. Heading out the door, he gave Martha’s advice some serious thought. Perhaps it was time to trust someone. Maybe it was his wounded pride that kept him from moving forward.
* * *
Emma picked at the skin surrounding her thumbnail until it started to bleed. Her anxiety grew as they passed the shops and proceeded toward the notorious end of Dodge.
“Pa, I’m frightened. Please, let’s go back home.”
Her plea was openly ignored.
Emma folded her hands tightly in her lap and nervously chewed her bottom lip. She’d never been this far north of Dodge City. Her ma often referred to it as sinful and no place for a decent lady. She glanced to her left then to the right.
Groups of men dotted each corner. Scantily clad women hung out of windows waving and inviting the men up to their rooms. A couple of women yanked down their corsets, baring their bosoms and laughing wickedly when greeted with wolf whistles.
Emma’s mouth dropped open when she saw a man throw a woman over his shoulder and disappear down a dark alley. Other men laughed raucously and quickly followed.
The wagon jerked to a stop and Emma nearly fell from her perch when she looked up and saw the sign, Long Horn Saloon. “Why did we stop here?”
Ray merely jumped from his seat and rounded the wagon to her side.
“Pa, why in heaven’s name would you bring me to this part of town?” Her heart began to beat a rapid tattoo loud enough to rival the piano music that bled out into the street.
“Git on down from there and come with me.”
She stiffened her spine. “I will not until you answer my question.”
“The hell you won’t.” Ray’s fingers dug cruelly into her arm and she was yanked from her perch. Her knees buckled and she fell against him. “You think Hank pleasant enough?”
Her brows knitted with confusion while she tried to right herself. “Hank? We only know each other in passing. What does he have to do with any of this?”
“I need you to do something for your dear ole Pa.”
Emma could almost feel the blood draining from her face. The only time her pa spoke pleasantly was when he wanted something that would ultimately benefit himself.
Still gripping her arm, he propelled her to the entrance of the saloon. “Listen to me. I’m in big trouble. I owe for a bottle of whiskey and I’m flat broke. Maybe you could work off what I owe.”
Emma gasped. “Work it off?” She tore herself from his grasp. “You want me to sell myself? Have you lost your damned mind?”
He raised his hand, but Emma refused to cower. She was much too heartbroken to care anymore. “Go ahead. Hit me again. Beat me all you want. I don’t care anymore.” She shut her eyes and waited for the blow but it never came.
“Listen here, gal, I can’t keep you anymore. It’s the God’s honest truth. It’s hard enough for me to feed myself.” He almost sounded regretful... almost. He stepped toward her.
Emma moved back, every so often darting a quick glance over her shoulder. A few more feet and she’d end up in the middle of the street. If she was lucky enough a speeding carriage would come by and end it all.
This was so wrong. “Please, Pa, don’t do this. Take me home. I’ll find a job that’s decent and won’t interfere with any of my household chores.”
He appeared to waver and she did something she hadn’t done since she was a little girl. She threw her arms around his middle and hugged him close. “Please, Papa, let me come back home with you. I’ll be good.”
When he peeled her arms from around his body and shoved her aside, the tiny thread of hope she held that the only parent she had left loved her at least a little bit was severed.
“Git on inside.” He pushed her roughly forward, sending her sailing through the batwing doors, but Emma was quick to spin on her heel and head back outside. She would have made it if not for her father blocking her path.
“Please, Pa... don’t do this,” she pleaded once again, keeping her head lowered.
“It’s done.” He shoved her toward the bar. “Here you go, Hank. Tell Jake he can do whatever he wants with her. She be worth at least a bottle of booze, I reckon.”
Emma began to sob.
“Quiet, gal.”
Humiliated, Emma took a covert look around the saloon. Laughter filled the air. Men drank and played cards. Scantily dressed women were either sitting shoulder to shoulder with a man or sitting on one’s lap. Occasionally someone went on a cursing spree, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to her predicament and for that Emma was grateful.
She turned her attention back to Hank and her father arguing heatedly.
Hank stepped from behind the bar and got in Ray’s face. “Have you gone loco? You can’t bring her in here.”
“She’s legal. Don’t you see? I’m making things right.”
“You think Jake will take this quietly? Even you can’t be this low,” Hank hissed fiercely. “She’s not for the likes of this place. She’s an innocent. Your own flesh and blood, for cripes sake. Get outta here before Jake gets back and beats you to a pulp.” He grabbed Ray by the collar. “Or maybe I’ll do it for him.”
Hank’s threat shocked Emma. He was a giant in size but had the reputation of being an even-tempered man. She tugged frantically on her father’s sleeve. “Pa, he’s right. Let’s go home.”
“We ain’t going anywhere. I’m heading home. You’re staying put.”
Chapter Six
On the way back to town, Jake’s thoughts were solely on his father.
The business arrangement between Ray and John had been a godsend at least for a while. Being content to run the small ranch and all too anxious to get home to his bride, he never both
ered to ask his father how things were going. If only he would’ve paid more attention, his father may still be alive. He hadn’t been aware that there were issues within the saloon. He didn’t know Ray had begun to slack off, leaving most of the work for John.
The annulment of his marriage had left Jake sullen and short-tempered. He thought for sure his marriage would last forever. While he was fixed on being broody, his friends urged him to take advantage of the fact that his father owned a saloon with working girls. He could have his pick anytime he wanted. He could fuck his brains out and forget all about Lucille. Sounded like a plan so he’d started to stop by the saloon on Saturday nights for a game of cards or a tumble with Dory. But it hadn’t taken him long to notice the friction between Ray and his father.
Jake snorted as he slowly rode into town. Now the place was like an albatross around his neck and since he was the boss he kept his distance from the girls.
He grinned at the young lad running toward him and dug into his shirt pocket for a coin. He tossed it in the air.
“Thanks, Mister Jake.”
Jake dismounted and handed over the reins. “Tell your pa if I’m not back in a few hours he can bed him down for the night.”
“I can bed the horse down. I like animals.” The lad grinned, showing a space where a tooth had been.
Jake ruffled the boy’s hair. “I know you do, son.”
Jake walked the rest of the way to the saloon, his boots clicking a rapid tattoo on the weathered wooden planks. He no sooner passed the general store when someone called his name. Swinging around, he was both surprised and delighted to see his friend, Jess.
“I didn’t expect to see you in town this late.” His brows pinched with worry. “Is Peg all right?”
“Peg’s doing great,” Jess replied, holding up a bag. “Of all things she’s craving pickles dipped in syrup.” He groaned. “I searched through every cupboard in the kitchen and tore the cellar apart and couldn’t find one damn jar.”
Jake slapped Jess gingerly on the shoulder. “It won’t be long now, buddy. Soon you’ll be a proud papa and passing around cigars. Married life suits you.”
“But not you?”
“Not anymore.” Jake rolled his shoulders. “I got to get a move on. Hug Peg for me.”
“You better find the time to do it yourself. She’s getting all fired up because you’re not coming around much anymore. A word to the wise, don’t rile a pregnant woman.”
Jake took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “That bad, eh? When I sell the Long Horn I’ll be over so much she’ll get tired of me.”
“Shit, the Long Horn. That reminds me. The storekeeper said someone saw Ray take a young kid inside the saloon and then leave without him. If the womenfolk get wind of it they’ll come looking for you.”
“Fuck, Jess. You of all people know me. I don’t go for that kind of shit.”
“I know you don’t, but some won’t see it that way. The place might get shut down.”
“Yup, along with any chances of selling the place. Ray’s trying to cause trouble. He wants the saloon back and will stop at nothing to get it. I’ll see you later.”
Jake took off swearing a blue streak all the way back to the saloon. Dammit all anyway. He plowed through the batwing doors and went straight to the bar. When Hank spotted him, his face turned as white as a sheet.
Hank had always been a good worker. He openly admitted that he could be a bit slow in the head at times, but Jake was certain he had sense enough not to allow an underage kid in a saloon.
“Hank, please tell me Ray didn’t bring a snot-nosed kid here.”
The tall lanky bartender threw up his hands in defense. “The first time he was alone.”
“The first time?” Jake inquired incredulously. “How many times was he here and why?”
“Two times and I don’t know why. The second time he came with a kid, only it wasn’t a kid.”
Jake shut his eyes for a moment. “Hank, you ain’t making any sense. Don’t go loco on me now. Take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”
Hank slammed his fist on the bar. “I don’t know how it happened, boss, and that’s the truth. Ray popped in whining about dying of thirst. I told him he didn’t have a running tab anymore. When I wasn’t looking he grabbed a bottle and took off with it before I could stop him.”
“That bastard stole a bottle of whiskey along with all this other shit I’m hearing?”
“The part about the whiskey is true, but the other part ain’t.”
“Then he didn’t leave anyone behind?”
Hank just stood there looking at him as if in a trance.
Jake leaned across the top of the bar and grabbed him by the collar. “Snap out of it, Hank, this is serious stuff,” he whispered fiercely. “There could be a mob of protesting women carrying torches and heading this way any minute. What the hell am I supposed to tell them? Is there a kid here or not?”
“Er, yes and no.”
“Well, hell.” Frustrated, Jake looked around the saloon and spotted Dory hurrying toward him.
“Er, Jake...”
“Not now, Dory.” Jake turned back to Hank. “Talk to me.”
Before Hank could open his mouth, Dory clutched his arm and led him into a corner. “Jake, there’s something in the office that’ll explain everything.”
Jake felt as if his heart had landed at his feet. It was true. There was a kid here and since he had a piss poor relationship with the law, the sheriff wouldn’t even consider the circumstances. The saloon would get shut down and he’d never be able to keep the promise he’d made to his father.
“I swear I’ll hang that weasel by the balls,” he muttered to no one in particular.
“The weasel can wait. Listen to me, Jake, you need to go into your office and it’s not what you think.”
“My head’s pounding so bad I can’t think. Just tell me who’s in my office.”
“The weasel’s daughter, that’s who.”
“His daughter,” Jake roared. He stormed down the narrow hall leading to the office with Dory following close behind. What the hell was Emmaline doing here? Better yet, why? “You sure?” he asked over his shoulder. The last time he’d seen Emmaline Foley was about a year ago and she had all the pertinent parts of a female.
“Jake, me and Hank didn’t know where to put her so we hid her in your office.”
“Well, hell, Dory, anywhere in a saloon’s no place for an innocent like Emmaline Foley,” he retorted. He took off his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “You did the right thing.” He put his hat back on and asked, “Did anyone recognize her?”
“I don’t think so. Nobody said anything so I think we’re in the clear.”
Jake skidded to a stop inches from the door. He wanted answers. Knowing Emmaline and her stubborn streak, she’d clam up just to make him sweat.
He couldn’t believe it. Emmaline pain-in-the-ass Foley with those enchanting green eyes and sassy mouth was on the other side of the door. The daughter of the man who he knew deep down in his heart was partially responsible for his own father’s fatal heart attack.
His hands curled into fists. “Dory, did the bastard give a reason why he just dropped her off like a bag of trash?”
Dory snorted. “He said she was payment for the bottle of booze he stole.”
Rage like he’d never known before filled Jake near to bursting every blood vessel in his body. What kind of man would trade his own flesh and blood for a bottle of booze? Jake pondered a moment. Unless he was purposely setting him up to take a fall.
Ray wanted the Long Horn back in the worst way and would stop at nothing in order to get it, but would Miss Emmaline agree to such lowdown tactics?
His breath quickened. So much for remaining calm. Shit.
Chapter Seven
The door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud bang, jerking Emma back to the present. She shot up from the cot, her heart hammering against her ribcage. The man she
’d often fantasized about stood just a few feet in front of her and Lordy, he looked magnificent.
Dark hair fell to the collar of his worn chambray shirt. His eyes were as black as the night. Wide shoulders tapered to a lean waist and long muscled legs. His shirtsleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing muscled arms and causing the material to strain over bulging biceps.
The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing dark spatters of hair. She was tempted to rip the shirt open just to see if those curly sprigs went down to his lean waist and beyond.
“Dory, you can leave now,” he said.
Clearly, he wasn’t talking to her. Emma looked past his shoulder and felt a twinge of jealousy when she saw a beautiful redhead standing behind him.
“But...”
“I said now!”
The woman made a hasty retreat, giving the door a good slam.
“Emmaline Foley, you got some serious explaining to do and it better be good.”
His accusatory tone should make her angry. Instead, a delicious thrill skittered down her spine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jake let his gaze travel down her body and back up again. “What’s with the boy’s clothing and please don’t tell me you cut your hair?”
Emma touched the bun at the nape of her neck. “I didn’t cut my hair,” she glanced down at her boyish attire, “and wearing pants is more practical when I’m outside tending to my chores. Besides, what’s it to you if I cut my hair?”
He looked as if he could strangle her, much like in the good old days when she’d sass him.
“Just don’t do it.” The muscles in his jaw bunched. “Is this your father’s latest scheme to make me look bad and are you in on it?”
His blatant accusation caused her temper to rise. “How dare you.”
He advanced on her like a wild coyote eyeing a juicy rabbit. “I dare because I know you, Emmaline. You’d do anything to get under my skin.”
“You really believe I’d go so far as to waltz inside a saloon and willingly hole up in your office?” Emma tilted her head in order to meet his critical gaze.
