by Kaki Warner
“Deserting us, are you?”
“I’ve got a saloon to run. Business is always brisk on hot days.”
It was a weak excuse but Lottie let it pass. “I thought you’d want to know what happened in San Angela.”
“I know you didn’t do anything wrong, Lottie. That’s enough for me.”
It was a moment before she could speak. “I didn’t kill him, you know.”
“Your grandfather? I know that, Lottie.”
“He had rabies.” She explained how Grandpa chained himself in the shed and asked her to set it on fire after he died so he couldn’t infect anyone else. “I just wanted you to know.”
His deep brown eyes softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry.” In an impulsive gesture, he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “I never doubted you, Lottie. None of us did.”
Again, she couldn’t speak.
He took his hand away.
They stood in awkward silence until she found her voice again. “I have other news.”
“Oh?”
“Ty and I are getting married.”
He reared back in mock surprise. “I’m stunned! I had no idea you two were sweet on each other. Or maybe more than sweet,” he added with a chuckle, “judging by that blush. When are you tying the knot?”
“That depends on you and Becky. I’m wanting a double wedding.”
Amusement faded. “You never give up, do you?”
“Not when I know I’m right. But I can see how anxious you are to get back to your bar rats, so I’ll let you escape for now. But start gathering your receipts. I’ll be by in a day or two to go over your books and shoot down all your flimsy excuses for putting off what you know is the right thing to do.”
“Hell.”
With a saucy backhand wave, she sauntered toward the table laden with cookies and cake and sandwiches. Becky stood beside it with Ty and the preacher. Yet she had eyes only for Juno. Even after the saloon owner left the room, her troubled gaze remained on the empty doorway.
Lottie felt a deep regret. Now that she had reached an understanding with Ty, it saddened her that the two other people she loved most seemed determined to miss their own chance at happiness. She needed to find a way to help them.
It was late afternoon when the gathering broke up and Lottie and Ty escorted the Bracketts back to the market. “I can’t believe how muggy it is,” Ty observed, plucking his shirt away from his sweaty chest.
Mr. B. squinted up at the thunderheads rolling in. “Probably means rain.”
“I’m not complaining,” Lottie said with a chuckle. “I don’t care if it rains or snows or turns blistering hot. I’m just glad to be home again.”
Mrs. B. patted her arm. “You poor dear. What you must have suffered. We were so worried, wondering what you were going through.”
Lottie knew the kindly woman was hinting to know more. She had every intention of telling the Bracketts everything. But the subject was still a tender one and every time she talked about it, it was like reopening a fresh wound.
She would have to tell Jane and Briggs, too. She’d had no opportunity to speak privately with them earlier with fancy Lord Findlay always hovering in the background. Hopefully, when she went back tomorrow to check on the club books, she’d have a chance to talk to them. All her friends had been so loyal and trusting she felt she owed them an explanation as well as her heartfelt thanks. Which was why she and Ty were walking the Bracketts home now. She wanted the truth to come from her, not through the gossip mill. And once Mrs. B. knew the whole story, everyone in town would soon know it, which would save Lottie from having to go over every painful detail again and again.
Ty must have sensed the downturn in her spirits. Sending her an encouraging smile, he silently gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then he let it go.
Lottie didn’t care if the Bracketts saw. She was just grateful he was close by. It seemed he was always close by when she needed him—shoring up her every weakness, steadying her whenever she faltered. It was such a wonderful, freeing feeling to be loved and no longer alone.
When they reached the market, Lottie knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. Following them back into the kitchen behind the store, she asked the Bracketts to sit down. Taking the chair beside Mrs. B., she smiled at the giving couple who had literally saved her life. “I don’t know what you heard about why I was arrested.”
The Bracketts looked at each other.
Mr. B. shrugged. “We don’t cotton to gossip,” he said, obviously not knowing his wife as well as he should have.
“Remember when you found me digging through your refuse bin, and I told you I’d been living near San Angela until my grandfather died?”
Both of them nodded.
“What I didn’t tell you was how he died.” She took a deep breath, hoping to steady her voice, then went over it all again. It was no easier the second time, and somewhere during the recitation, she began to cry.
Mrs. B. handed over her damp hanky. “You wipe those tears away, child. He’s no longer suffering. Nor should you.”
“Fourteen is mighty young to go through such a thing,” Mr. B. muttered.
Ty nodded in agreement, but said nothing.
Lottie dried her cheeks then told them about Grandpa asking her to set fire to the shed after he died so he wouldn’t infect anybody else. “‘Then you leave this place,’ he told me. ‘And never look back.’ So I did, and ended up here.” More tears spilled as Lottie took Mrs. B.’s hand in hers. “And I thank God every day that you found me. I don’t know how I would have made it without the two of you.”
Now crying, too, Mrs. B. pulled her into a smothering hug. “You’re our daughter, Lottie. We’ll always be there for you.”
Feeling the press of too much emotion, Lottie gave Mrs. B. a final pat then gently pulled out of the embrace. After pausing a moment to let her nerves settle, she said, “The law assumed I’d set the fire and killed my grandfather. That’s why I was arrested for murder and taken to San Angela.”
An anxious look came over Mrs. Brackett’s face. “But you’re back now. Everything’s cleared up and you’re free?”
“I am.”
“Praise be.”
Lottie smiled at Ty. “And now for the best part. Ty and I are getting married.”
“You don’t say!” Mr. B. smacked the table.
Mrs. B. looked from Lottie to Ty and back at Lottie. “You’re marrying Ranger Benton?”
“It’s Mr. Benton now,” Ty said.
“Oh, my. Did you hear, Mr. Brackett?”
“I did.”
Mrs. B. started fluttering. “Law’s sake. Our little Lottie is getting married.”
Lottie gave her intended a broad smile. “If he’ll have me.”
I’ve already had you. Resting three fingers on his jaw, Ty mouthed, three times.
Heat rushed into her cheeks. If you want to go for four, she warned him with a look, you’d better be good.
I thought I was good.
The memory of how good he was sent new tingles to all those parts he seemed so taken with, and made her question her decision to stay at Becky’s until the wedding.
Chapter 23
An hour later, Ty left her off at Becky’s then went to find a room. They’d agreed to sleep apart until the wedding. Silly maybe, but rules were rules, and they didn’t want to flaunt conventions more than they already had. Since Lady Jane’s was too expensive, that left the Greenbroke Hotel or Sally’s old room at the Spotted Dog, assuming a new whore hadn’t moved in while they were gone. He probably could have stayed in the storeroom at the market, but the cot was too short and he wasn’t that fond of mice and he didn’t want to impose . . . or be hovered over, Lottie guessed. After kissing him good-bye, she sent him on his way and went into the kitchen, where she found Becky sitting at the kitc
hen table with Reverend Lindz. It was apparent they’d been arguing: Becky’s mouth was tight as a tailor’s stitch and Lindz was scowling.
“Sorry,” Lottie muttered and turned back into the hall.
Becky shot from her chair. “He was just leaving.”
“I was?”
“You are,” Becky said firmly. “You were going to repay Juno, remember? Maybe I’ll see you at the Spotted Dog later.”
With her glaring down at him, the reverend had no choice but to leave.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Becky sank back into her chair. “Thank heavens you came when you did.”
Taking the chair Lindz had vacated, Lottie asked what was wrong.
“He came back thinking we would get married. Can you imagine?”
Lottie could. Especially since Becky had never told him she wouldn’t. “You told him no?”
“Not yet. I may have to marry him yet.”
“Have to?” Good heavens, was she pregnant?
“Not have to. I’m definitely not in a family way, since we’ve never . . . you know. Not that he hasn’t tried.”
“Don’t elaborate,” Lottie muttered, a bit shocked that a preacher would contemplate the wonderfully wicked things she and Ty had done. Add another sin to his list. And hers. “So why would you have to marry him?”
“No one else seems to want to.”
Ah. Juno. “You’re twenty-one,” Lottie reminded her. “You have years to bring a certain someone around.”
“He’s not budging. I even kissed him. And he liked it, I could tell. But he just laid there like a big lump.”
“Laid there?”
“I’ve decided to give him one more chance to ante up. If he doesn’t come around, I’m washing my hands of him.”
“Wait. Start at the beginning. Where was he laying?”
Becky gave her an odd look. “In his bed. Where else?”
“And you were there with him?”
“Not with him.” Becky waved the idea away. “It was the morning I got your telegram that you were coming home. I was so excited I ran straight to tell Juno. Naturally, he was still sleeping—he never gets up before noon, you know. I barged in anyway and woke him up. Did you know he sleeps with a gun? And hardly any clothes?”
“He was naked?”
“Not entirely. Just on top. The rest was covered.” A distant look came into her eyes. “His hair stuck out every which way and he had pillow wrinkles on his cheek and a sleepy-sexy look . . .” Her words trailed off on a deep breath. “Oh, Lottie, I had no idea he was so muscular.” Realizing Lottie was gaping at her, she laughed. “He was gorgeous. Except for a nasty bullet scar on his chest. I almost jumped on top of him, then and there.”
Lottie wasn’t sure how much more of this she wanted to hear. Juno was like a brother to her. The thought of him and Becky—she didn’t want to think about it.
“Anyway,” Becky went on, “I told him you and Ty were coming home and we should do something. For a moment, he just blinked those brown eyes at me, then he did the most astounding thing. He grabbed me and kissed me!”
“Oh my word.”
“I know! Granted, he’d kissed me once before when we’d been drinking and I—never mind that. But this kiss was different. More personal somehow. More honest and spontaneous. And much too short.”
“I need coffee,” Lottie muttered, rising from her chair.
“Check the pot. There might be some left. Anyway, Juno looked as surprised by the kiss as I was. I asked him what he was doing.”
Lottie chided herself as she poured a cup of lukewarm coffee and returned to her seat. This was a private thing between her two dearest friends. She shouldn’t be listening. “What did he say?” she asked, despite good intentions.
“That he’d been dreaming when I woke him up and told him to do something, so he did. And that’s it. As if it wasn’t the most wonderful kiss in the world and I didn’t matter to him and it was all a big mistake. I showed him a thing or two.”
Lottie’s cup thumped on the table. “Oh, Becky! What did you do?”
“I told him my mama always said if you’re going to do something, you ought to do it right. Then I kissed him back. For a long time.” That dreamy look again. “It was wonderful, everything I’d imagined, and I could tell he thought so, too. It was kind of obvious, the way the sheet—”
“Then what happened?” Lottie blurted out. She had enough lurid pictures in her mind. She didn’t need that one, too.
“He pushed me away with a guilty look like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Which it almost was.”
Lottie closed her eyes on that one, but the image still danced behind her lids.
“So we argued a bit,” Becky went on, saving Lottie from trying to formulate a response. “He told me to turn my back while he dressed, and we went to his office.” With a sneer, she added, “Probably felt safe from further temptation with his dead wife and son watching us from the tintype on the bookcase shelf.”
Avoiding that troublesome topic, Lottie asked what they’d argued about.
“Jane and Mr. Briggs. I think they’re in love, but Juno says no. Still, I’m sure something’s going on with the two of them, and now with Fancy Findlay lurking about, things seem even more tense.”
“In what way?”
“When I went to tell them you were coming home, I found Jane and Findlay arguing in the lobby at the club. At least, it looked like arguing, although it could have been surprise. I’m guessing the man wasn’t expected, even though they seemed to know each other pretty well. He sure has an eye for Jane. And a glare for Briggs. Jane mostly looks flustered. From what Bea Davenport told me and what I can piece together, Findlay wants Jane to go back with him to England. I think Briggs does, too. But he didn’t look happy about it. Probably because she’d be going with Findlay.”
“Briggs never looks happy.”
“Around Jane he does. Unless someone is rude to her. Then he’s as touchy as a teased snake.”
“He is rather protective.”
“More than protective. The way he hovers around her, and never takes his eyes off of her when she’s in the room. Even the way they argue. He’s smitten.”
Lottie pushed her cup aside. “I agree. But for some reason is afraid to admit it, even to himself.”
“Like Juno.”
Exactly like Juno.
They were a pair, Briggs and Juno. Both had seen too much death and destruction, and it had changed them. Tempered by circumstance and hardened by cruel experience, they would always be the outsiders looking in, never fully belonging. Their choice, mostly. Sometimes the stranglehold of the past was stronger than the lure of the future. Lottie knew that from what she’d just gone through. The events three years ago had colored everything in her life until she’d been forced to confront it.
“Well, I can’t wait on Juno forever,” Becky announced. “It seems lately all I do is drift from one day to the next, hoping and waiting. That’s no way to live. If Juno doesn’t want me, the good reverend will do well enough.”
“You would really marry Nathaniel Lindz?”
“I’d prefer not. He’s starting to get on my nerves. And I hate that greasy hair restorer he uses, which, I can tell you for a fact, isn’t working. But if he’s my only choice, what can I do?” She rested her folded arms on the table. “Enough of my troubles, tell me what happened in San Angela.”
So Lottie went over it all again, telling Becky more than she’d revealed to the Bracketts, including that awful attack by Ranger Millsap in her jail cell.
“Thank goodness Ty was there to pull him off. I hope you got him so good he’ll never be able to get it up again.”
Now that she was experienced, Lottie knew what Becky meant and heartily agreed. Hopefully, she and Ty wouldn’t have to go back for his tr
ial. She never wanted to see the man again. “But there’s some good news in all this,” she said. “Ty and I are getting married.”
Becky reacted with predictable squeals and hugs and demands that Lottie go over all the details.
She did, and even though it was getting dark and Becky would be late to her job at the Spotted Dog, Lottie told her everything, only omitting the part about her and Ty making love by the creek. That was a private thing, too precious to share with anyone but Ty. “And later this week,” she concluded, “Ty and I are going out to the Buck place to decide if that’s where we want to settle.” Seeing Becky’s look of disappointment, Lottie quickly added, “It’s only eight miles away. And I’ll be in town several days a week to attend my clients, so it’s not like we wouldn’t see each other all the time.”
“You’ll still do bookkeeping?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Most men don’t want their wives working for others once they have a husband and home to take care of.” As she spoke, Becky rose and grabbed her bonnet from a peg by the door. “Probably afraid people will think they’re not good providers.”
That silly male pride again. “Ridiculous. I like bookkeeping. Besides, I need to keep an eye on our investments.” But the nagging thought arose. What if Becky was right? What if Ty wouldn’t want her working away from the ranch?
“I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Becky’s voice held only a trace of doubt, and maybe a hint of wistfulness. “It’s obvious Ty would do anything for you. Well, I’d best run. See you in the morning.”
Lottie sat at the table long after Becky left, mulling over what she had said. Marriage was starting to sound more complicated by the day, especially if it meant giving up her hard-won independence and struggling through all those domestic chores she wasn’t very good at. She was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.
Then she remembered the feel of Ty’s hands running over her, and how his strong body trembled beneath her touch, and the way his smile made her heart stutter and her limbs grow weak. It was definitely worth it. He was worth it. She had never felt so treasured or protected as when she was with Ty. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—give that up.
