by Janet Dailey
“No. And I didn’t ask. One thing at a time. You can’t rush very old people.”
Annie understood what Nell was getting at, but Mrs. Pearson was still vulnerable. However, if the Pearsons had Nell in their lives again, they would probably be okay.
“What are you going to do with the rest of these garlands?” Annie asked.
Nell finished her club soda and motioned toward the old staircase at the back of the saloon. “I was thinking of winding them around the banister.”
“But no one goes up there. Didn’t you tell me those rooms had been closed up for years?”
“Not anymore.” Nell gave her a twinkly look. “I was feeling enterprising, so I cleaned out the two in front. There was some great old Victorian furniture under all the junk.”
“And?”
Nell wiped down the bar with a clean white cloth until the mahogany gleamed. “I was thinking of fixing up a couple of private suites.”
“You mean to rent out? Like the cabin?”
“No, there weren’t any beds. And I don’t have a hotel license or plan to get one. I mean suites for poker games. Penny poker.” Nell waved away Annie’s surprised look. “I’m not talking about serious gambling or hard drinking. But I’d make a mint on the beer and snacks. Plus the wives and girlfriends would know where their men were.”
“I see,” Annie said dryly. She thought of someone immediately. It was easy to imagine Marshall Stone at a card game, winning every hand, his expression never changing.
Nell left it at that. She bustled over to the bulletin board, removing old notices and putting up new ones with pushpins.
“You going to the Snow Ball, Annie?”
“Maybe.”
“How about yes? It’s a great word. I love the sound of it.”
Annie eyed the saloon keeper with friendly suspicion. “If you don’t mind my saying so, what’s in it for you if I do say yes?”
“I’m on the planning committee.” Nell had pretty much filled the available space on the bulletin board when she walked away. “We need an emcee. I thought of you.”
Annie neatened up the garlands, just for something to do. “Why?”
“I can’t do it. My ankles have been killing me. You’d have to stand, you know.”
“That’s no big deal, but I’ve never done any emceeing.”
Nell gave a careless wave of her manicured hand. “You’re so full of personality and pep, it doesn’t matter. A stunner like you will get everyone’s attention immediately.”
Right now, Annie wasn’t feeling particularly stunning. In fact, she had avoided looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the display of liquor when she’d entered the saloon.
“I have a white Stetson you could wear,” Nell said casually. She looked at the bulletin board, not at Annie.
“The dance isn’t outdoors.”
“No, but in a hat like that people will see you.”
“What if I don’t want to be seen?”
Nell ignored the question, sauntering back to the bulletin board.
“And,” she went on, “I have a vintage western shirt that you’d probably like. Gorgeous. Also white.” The older woman hummed as she repositioned a flyer.
“Bring it on.” Annie actually was curious. She loved vintage duds.
“Wait until you get a load of this little number.” Nell turned to face her, smiling. “It’s a classic cowgirl style. Fancy yoke with fringe, silver embroidery, and curved arrow pockets.”
“Sounds great.”
“Would you like to see it? I just happen to have it right here.”
Annie suppressed a smile as she nodded. Nell was obviously scheming up a storm. The older woman went over to a steamer trunk at the bottom of the back staircase and withdrew the shirt with a flourish.
“Wow,” Annie said. “It really is gorgeous.” The lavish embroidery had been expertly done by hand.
Nell held it against her. “I’m betting it’ll be a perfect fit. Try it on.”
Annie didn’t need to be talked into it. “I hope so.”
She’d seen shirts like it in a museum exhibit celebrating the era of the singing cowboys on TV. Nowadays there were plenty of reproductions, but nowhere near as well made. This one sported the label of a famous western designer from the 1950s.
“It’s made for a woman, but somewhere there’s a matching one for a lucky man,” Nell trilled. “The sweethearts of the rodeo used a needle and silk thread to rope their cowboys, you know.”
Annie almost didn’t want to encourage her. But there was no stopping Nell when she was on a roll.
“Of course, a fancy shirt like that was intended for the parade around the ring before the bucking began,” the saloon keeper added.
Annie admired the stitching. “Where did you get this?”
“Didn’t I ever tell you that my big sister was a rodeo rider?”
“No. Are you making that up?”
“Don’t make me take out the photo albums,” Nell threatened. “Yes, she really was. Retired now. Bought a ranch in Arizona with her fifth husband.”
“Five?” Annie would get the whole story out of Nell some other time. “Good for her.”
“Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what you want in life, dear. Anyway, this was her favorite shirt. It’s in perfect condition.”
Annie headed for the bathroom and whipped off her sweater, taking her time to put on the classic shirt and snap up the pearly snaps. She shot the cuffs as she gave a final shrug of her shoulders.
The shirt had been designed to do things for a girl. It clung to her curves in all the right places, but still looked ladylike. She turned to the side, noting the flirtatious flip of the fringe.
Incredible. She would have to go to the dance. There was no place else she could wear this and she didn’t think for one minute that Nell would ever give it away.
She strolled out to show Nell.
“It does fit! Wonderful. You can take it home with you. So will you emcee?”
“Count on me.”
Nell gave her a hug.
“Easy,” Annie said with a laugh. “Don’t wrinkle this.”
“Oh, goodness, it’s not a museum piece. Before you go, though, if you could help me with just one more thing?”
“Of course. But I can’t get dirty.”
Nell picked up the remaining garlands and nodded toward the staircase. “You won’t. I swept and vacuumed every inch of that staircase. Let’s get these wound around the banister.”
“Sure.”
“You go first. I guess we should see how long they are.”
Annie took the end that Nell handed her and went up the creaking stairs without doing any winding. “The garlands should be at least double the length of the banister, right? Maybe even triple.”
On the floor below, Nell frowned. “We might be a bit short. Oh dear. Just attach that tab, would you? There’s a hook up there.”
Annie found it and hung the tab on it, turning to look at the garland that slithered down the stairs to Nell. “I think there’s enough,” she began, resting a hand on the banister.
It gave way with a crack. Nell screamed.
Annie swayed on the landing, pressing her back against the wall to keep from falling. She didn’t fall, but the banister did, toppling to the floor and breaking into pieces. Some of the side spindles went down with it and some stayed in place, sticking out at odd angles.
Nell swore and dropped the garlands. “Stay there.”
“Okay.” Annie was feeling a little shaky, but she knew the feeling would pass. “But don’t come up. There’s no telling what might give way next.”
“Can you get down?” Nell asked anxiously.
“Of course. Give me a sec. I want to be sure of my leg. I twisted it a little and these stairs are steep.”
“I’m so sorry, Annie. And after I’ve been up and down those stairs so many times too,” Nell fretted. “Want me to call someone?”
“No. I can always
go down on my rear end, step by step. I used to do that when I was a kid. These jeans can take it.”
The door to the saloon opened. Annie looked down at Marshall Stone. His dark eyes widened when he took in her predicament.
“Whoa,” he said, his deep voice echoing in the sudden silence. Two or three long strides and he was standing directly beneath her. “What happened?”
“It’s an old staircase. I guess it was an accident waiting to happen.” Nell put a hand on his arm to restrain him. “Don’t go up. I think she’d better come down. Then we can rope it off. It’s my fault. I should have known. It was so creaky. Oh, good-ness.”
Marshall looked up at Annie. “What do you want to do?”
She really didn’t have a choice. “I’ll come down now.” She did it the undignified way, on her rump. To his credit, he didn’t crack a smile or tease her.
About halfway down, he reached out to take her hand and made sure she was safe. Near the bottom, she extended her legs and let him help her up.
She rose somewhat unsteadily. His strong hand clasped hers firmly as he led her to a table. “You okay?”
“Yes. For a black diamond staircase.”
Annie felt heat tint her cheeks under Marshall’s steady gaze. If he liked the way she looked in the fitted cowgirl shirt, he seemed to know it wasn’t the moment for a gentlemanly compliment. But she’d seen that smoldering look in his eyes before.
She just hadn’t needed rescuing then.
“Nell, how about a cup of coffee?” Stone asked. “Make that two.”
“Coming up.” Nell fretted some more as she dashed about, clinking cups and saucers on a tray.
Annie thanked her when she came over to the table.
“Least I can do. Those oatmeal raisin cookies are from Jelly Jam. Sure cure for everything. Now how’s that leg doing, young lady?”
“I think it’s going to be fine.” It ached. That was about all.
“Shouldn’t you have the doc take a look at it?”
Annie groaned. “I just went in. He’ll give me a lecture. If I stay off it for a day or so, that oughta be enough.”
Nell seemed about to insist, but something made her stop. “Well, you two can discuss it. I’m going down to the cellar to get some rope and cordon off the area.”
Marshall nodded as he picked up his coffee cup. “There’s no harm done and nothing much left to fall down.”
“Let’s hope so,” Nell said dramatically.
“It’ll give the customers something to talk about.”
She gave him a mock glare. “A collapsing staircase is the last thing you want people talking about. I wish I could shove the jukebox in front and cover up the sight. Want to be my hero and move it?”
Stone eyed the jukebox and shook his head. “Nope. I have to save my strength for the dance.”
“Oh, are you going to the Snow Ball?” Nell crowed. “I’m so glad. I’m on the planning committee, you know. And Annie just volunteered to be our emcee.”
Sort of, Annie thought. The bribe had worked.
“I loaned her that rodeo shirt just for the occasion. Doesn’t she look pretty in it?”
Annie winced. Nell’s compliment didn’t need to be confirmed by Stone, who apparently could attract all the feminine company any man might want at any time.
“She sure does,” he said calmly.
He probably thought the fancy shirt was a little silly. And since he hadn’t made the original compliment, Annie didn’t see a compelling need to thank him.
“Which reminds me. I forgot to give you the Stetson, Annie. Be right back.”
Annie ripped open three packets of sugar and dumped them into her coffee, adding a healthy dose of cream. More than her usual, much more, because she still felt shaky, but for a different reason. Sitting up straight with her knees only inches away from Marshall Stone’s made her nervous. She eased her chair back and crossed her legs at the ankles.
“Haven’t seen you around for a while,” he said. Like most of his conversation, it wasn’t about him.
“Um, no. We’ve been busy at the ranch. Christmas plans, getting ready, that kind of thing.”
“I see.” He kept on his jacket but took off his ball cap. The same one he’d been wearing the first time she’d seen him, Annie noticed.
They didn’t say much else until Nell came back, holding a brand-new Stetson with a silver band. She showed it off with a flourish before she placed it on Annie’s head, tipping the brim back slightly with one finger and fussing with Annie’s hair.
“However do you get your hair so shiny?” Nell asked. “There. Oh my. You could be a model. I think I have a hand mirror somewhere around here if you’d like to look at yourself.”
Annie blushed. She felt like a doll being dressed, although Stone’s face barely changed expression as he watched.
“Don’t bother, Nell,” Annie said politely. “I have a Stetson like this, but not white.”
“How’s the fit?”
“Feels just right. Thanks, Nell.”
Nell headed for the cellar. “Okay. You two are all set. I’ll leave you alone. Now for that rope. And I should start making a list for the insurance claim. And . . .” Her voice trailed off as she reached the bottom of the stairs and moved away into the part of the cellar that wasn’t underneath them.
Annie took off the hat and set it on the table next to theirs.
“It does look good on you.” For a man as closemouthed as Stone, that counted as a rave review.
“Thanks.”
A short silence fell. “I’d be happy to take you to the dance if you think you’ll be up to it by then,” he said softly.
Annie hadn’t expected that. She uncrossed her legs, feeling a twinge in the healing one. She had an excuse.
“I don’t know if I’d be doing any dancing. Maybe I should have Dr. Lyon look at my leg again. It’s hard to tell right now if I really did twist it. I could be fine by tomorrow or I might need to wear a brace for a while. Besides, I have to be up on stage to introduce the bands and do whatever else Nell needs me to do.”
“What about what you want to do?” The question was even softer than his invitation to attend the dance with him.
Annie had no idea how to answer it. “You should take someone else,” she said finally, keeping her tone brisk.
“I don’t have anyone else I want to go with.”
“I’m sure you can find someone.” She wasn’t about to name any names. Like brunette Jill. Or redheaded Bunny.
Nell made more noise than necessary as she returned to the bottom of the cellar stairs and began to climb them. “Found the rope,” she called. “And a KEEP OUT sign and a WET PAINT sign too. Neither one exactly applies, but they should do the trick.”
She set the items down as she came closer.
“Marshall, I never did ask why you came in. Is everything okay up at the cabin?” Nell winked at Annie. “My paying guest.”
“Everything’s fine. A knob fell off one of the doors, but I fixed it.”
“I wish every renter was like you,” the older woman sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do when you’re gone.”
“Winter break just started, Nell,” Annie informed her. “You should do all right when the snow hits. I’ve seen some new faces around. You know, college girls.”
Stone didn’t even blink.
Stone took Rowdy out as soon as he got back to the cabin, craving fresh air even though the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees by nightfall.
The dog had tree trunks to sniff and snow hills to plunge into. Stone didn’t pay much attention to the tugs on the leash as Rowdy investigated this and that fascinating thing.
Stone was thinking.
About Annie Bennett, of course. At the saloon, his heart had just about stopped when he’d thought she was about to fall from on high. Seeing her teetering on the edge made him feel sick inside. He’d gone straight to her, so fast he didn’t remember doing it, and he would’ve caught her wit
h ease.
But she hadn’t needed a hero. Well, hell. It’d be nice if he ever got the chance, but she was as self-reliant and smart as a woman could be.
And so damn beautiful it was making him crazy.
That embroidered white shirt had fit her as closely as he wanted to hold her himself. She didn’t seem to have noticed that a couple of pearl snaps had come open after the mishap. He had, for a fraction of a second—and then kept his gaze firmly on hers for the entire rest of the time they’d spent together. With the brim of the fine new Stetson framing her beautiful face, her shining dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and that high color in her cheeks, Annie had looked like a cowgirl angel with a white halo.
If only Nell hadn’t been there. But Stone supposed that the older woman’s well-meaning chatter might have made Annie feel a little safer around him. It wasn’t just her near fall that had made her so nervous.
He knew Annie Bennett didn’t think too highly of him. He still couldn’t tell her exactly what it was he was doing in Velde, although his side of the investigation was progressing reasonably well.
But the interminable wait for Shep Connally to zero in on a mark was getting to him. And Stone had almost blown the new agent’s cover by giving her a stupid fake name. Kerry Cox was going to give him serious hell when she found out he’d referred to her as Bunny. If she found out, he corrected himself. She was supposed to hang out with other girls, pretend to be passing through just like them and blend in, until the right moment. Shep Connally was a boozer and boaster. A pretty young thing on a bar stool next to him was likely to hear more than any male agent.
Marshall knew he would have to bide his time to catch the con man and anyone else in Velde who might be in on his schemes. But that was the least of his problems. He couldn’t rest tonight for a whole other reason. Annie Bennett troubled his sleep. His wildest and sweetest dreams were all about her—and they never lasted long enough.
Chapter 13
The night of the dance came soon enough. Annie got dressed up in the white shirt and her best jeans. A lot of people were looking forward to the occasion and she owed it to them to help out with the show, whether or not she was raring to go.
