9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  The clerk’s face hardened. “We don’t serve your kind.” He snapped the book shut. “This is a respectable hotel.”

  “No!” She gasped, then straightened her shoulders. “No, I’m not that sort of lady. But it seems as though my wallet has been exchanged for another’s, and I’ll be back with the room rent shortly.”

  She grabbed her carpetbag and made a beeline for the lounge. When she found Mr. Burke O’Shaughnessy, he’d be the sorriest man on the face of this Earth. He’d stolen her money—of that, she had no doubt.

  Ha! If he thought she’d be that easy to get rid of, he had another think coming.

  The smoky lounge reeked of whiskey and cigars. Her insides fluttered and all her instincts told her not to go in, but her blood boiled when she saw Mr. O’Shaughnessy lazily sipping a drink while riffling the cards with the other hand. What a low down scoundrel, taking her money like that. She marched right up to him and bashed him on the back with her carpetbag just as he took another sip.

  Coughing and spluttering, he plunked the glass down and glared at her. “What the heck was that for?”

  “You know what, you thief. I’m going to report you to the authorities.”

  He shuffled and riffled the cards one more time before he deposited them in his vest pocket. Turning toward her, he looked concerned—an act, of that she was sure. “Exactly what was stolen?”

  “My money. All of it. And my ledger.” She gritted her teeth and glared at him. “I need to rent a room, so give it back. Now.”

  “Darlin’, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, but I’d be glad to help.” He handed her a ten-dollar piece. “Get your room, then we’ll find out who stole your money.”

  The coin beckoned, but she knew it was ill-gotten. Still, she had little choice and besides, it could very well be hers in the first place. She snatched it out of his hand, pivoted, then hurried to the front desk.

  “I have the money, now,” she said to the clerk.

  “Sorry, all the rooms are taken.”

  “They certainly are not. Not one person has been in here since I left.”

  The clerk sneered. “I told you, we don’t rent to women like you.” He turned his back on her.

  What an oaf. All her life she’d been accused of being too tightly laced, and now this man thought she was a woman of ill-repute. “Sir, I told you before—I’m a respectable woman.”

  He picked up a feather duster, and still with his back to her, said, “I saw you get money from the gambler. Go away.”

  Now there was sound logic. He’d rent a room to a gambler, but not to her. “I’m not going away. You’re sorely mistaken, and I want that room.”

  He called the bellboy over. “Fetch the marshal. We’ve got a woman causing problems.”

  “Oooh!” She stomped her foot for the first time in her entire life. “Forget it, sir.” And with that, she headed back to Burke, who, undoubtedly, had heard the entire exchange. If he so much as pretended to chuckle, she’d strangle him.

  “You’ve won your little game, Mr. O’Shaughnessy. I have no place to stay. But if you think for one solitary moment that I’m going back to Silverton, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  He shrugged. “I sent a boy to buy the tickets to Amargo. The train leaves at nine in the morning.”

  The coin burned in her hand. For two cents, she’d throw it in his face, but she didn’t have a single penny of her own. “I want my money back. You still owe me forty-three dollars and nineteen cents.”

  “Lexie, I don’t have your money. But I do have a suite with two bedrooms.”

  How convenient for him. She turned the coin in her palm while she thought. He looked relaxed. And innocent. But she knew very well he’d taken her money to get her out of his way. Maybe, just maybe, staying in his suite would be an even better way to make sure he didn’t slip out on his own. She aimed to bring Patrick back to marry her sister, but Burke, well, she didn’t trust him one bit.

  He turned over a card. “It’s better than sleeping in the livery barn.”

  Not much. “Two bedrooms?” She only hoped word of this didn’t get back to her parents. Helen’s pregnancy was complication enough, and if they knew Lexie had stayed in a hotel with a man, it would not be easy to talk them into letting her come back. Good-bye, professorship.

  “Two bedrooms.” He gathered the cards together and shuffled them. “You’re welcome to one of them.”

  She wouldn’t bother to ask why he rented a suite with two bedrooms—it was all too obvious. While she didn’t relish the thought of falling into his plan, sleeping in the hay didn’t hold much appeal, either. “Give me the key,” she said, holding out her hand.

  * * *

  Burke chuckled after she left, then studied the saloon patrons to see if he could spot a fish. Two hundred dollars wouldn’t get them very far—besides, he felt like having a little fun. So far, things were going his way. He had a pretty woman sharing his suite and a deck of cards in his vest.

  Just then a couple of young bucks strutted in. They didn’t look old enough to shave yet, but they both had that cocky attitude he remembered having himself ten years before. The tall one pulled out a good-sized roll and ordered a couple of whiskeys. They slugged their drinks down, swallowing a couple of times to keep from choking. Burke had to laugh.

  He picked up his cards and ambled to them. “Looks like you boys are up for a little game of poker. Let’s play for the next round.”

  “Sure,” said the shorter one. “Five-card stud’s my game.”

  “Come on over to a table. It’ll be more comfortable.” He sat and awkwardly shuffled the cards, then dealt two down and one up, making sure both boys had pairs of face cards. “Throw in two bits apiece, boys,” he said as he tossed a quarter in the middle of the table. “Whoever wins takes the money—the loser buys us a round.”

  “Sounds good,” said the stockier boy who had the pair of kings. “Deal the rest, then.”

  Burke dealt that boy another king, and saw his eyes widen. Burke schooled his features and dealt the other kid a low card, then took a nine-spot for himself. Studying each of them, he asked if they were ready for the last card. “Or would you rather bet a dollar first?” He threw in a coin.

  Eagerly, they each threw in a dollar. Burke dealt the final card, giving the taller boy another queen, and a deuce to the boy with kings.

  “Well? You want to bet more, or leave it be?”

  The stocky boy tipped back his battered hat and threw in a ten. “I’ll bet ten bucks.”

  “I’ll match it and call,” the taller boy said, tossing in his bill.

  Burke glanced from one boy to the other, both squirming with excitement. He’d have both their rolls in no time. He tossed in a ten. “I’ll call. Show me your cards.”

  As planned, the stocky boy won. He raked in the money with a hoot and a holler. Burke motioned the bartender to bring over three whiskeys.

  “How’d you get that hole in your hat, mister?”

  Damn, he’d forgotten about that. He needed a new hat before tomorrow. “Just a little shoot-out.”

  “Who won?”

  “Who are you looking at?” He smiled wide and rocked back on his chair. “You could tell a good story with this hat. Why, just today I’ve already had two women offer me their charms.”

  “I wish I had a hat like that,” the taller boy mumbled.

  “I need one, too.”

  Burke shook his head slightly. “Sorry, but I can’t give it to you. I don’t have another, and I just spent ten bucks on a game of cards.”

  “Hell, mister, I’ll buy it from you,” the tall boy offered, “and then you can go across the street and buy another at Hadley the Hatmaker’s. Crazy old coot, he is, but he sells damned good hats.”

  Pausing to let them convince themselves, Burke shook his head again as he put the cards back in his pocket. “I don’t know, boys. Like I said, I’ve had offers from two women already. Maybe I’ll just keep the hat.”

>   “I’ll give you your ten dollars back,” the stocky boy offered.

  “Hmmm, well, it costs two dollars a poke down the street. I don’t know. With this hat, I can get all the women I want for free.”

  “Twenty dollars.”

  He shrugged. “That would only hold me for two nights.”

  “Fifty dollars.”

  He took hat off and, acting reluctant while pretending to examine it, palmed his lucky hundred-dollar bill from the liner. “I just don’t know. I do like the ladies.”

  “Seventy-five dollars, and that’s final.”

  Burke fingered the brim, then put the hat back on and sat down. “How about another game?”

  “A hundred dollars.”

  Looking up at both boys counting their money rolls, he returned his attention to the cards and shuffled, palming the ace of hearts just for the fun of it. But then, he saw Miss High-and-Mighty strutting through the lobby. In about five seconds, his fun would be over. “I’ll take it.”

  He gave them the hat and they gave him the money. He riffled through to make sure they’d given him the full amount, then stuffed it in his inside coat pocket. “You boys have a nice day, now. One of the women is coming this way for more of what she liked before, so I don’t need any company, if you know what I mean.” He winked and they smiled as they took the hint and left, waving their expensive holey hat at him.

  Burke visited the crazy hatmaker and bought a new Stetson, since he didn’t want to wait the three days for a custom hat.

  * * *

  When Lexie heard about the hat, she had no doubt that Burke was the culprit who’d stolen her money. Odd thing, though—he didn’t have any compunction about spending it on her. Still, stealing was stealing, and she intended to get her money back.

  “I cannot believe you cheated those poor boys out of a hundred dollars for a used hat with a hole in it.” She glared across the table at him. “Have you no principles?”

  He sipped his coffee, savoring the flavor. “One thing you need to learn, darlin’, is that no man ever gave up money unless he thought he would get more back.” He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands over his middle. “Those boys wanted that hat for a reason, and they were willing to pay for it. And they did. Simple as that.”

  “You defrauded them.”

  “Look, if they’re happy and I’m happy, well, everyone’s happy.” He grinned. “Almost everyone—let’s make you happy.” He motioned for the waiter. “We’ll have the beefsteak supper. Afterward, the lady will have a sherry, and I’ll have a brandy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Burke pulled out a ten and handed it to the waiter. “Make it good brandy.”

  “Yes, sir.” He snatched the bill and headed to the kitchen.

  “Mr. O’Shaughnessy, you are too free with your money.” And mine.

  He shrugged. “Easy come, easy go.”

  “Maybe it’s easy for a con artist and thief like you to get money, but for the rest of us, it’s hard to come by.”

  Faking hurt, he groaned, “Oh, Lexie, I work hard for my money. My business is a little different, is all.”

  The waiter brought them each a steak as big as the plate it came on, and another plate of potatoes and gravy with an unidentifiable dead vegetable on the side. “Would you like anything else?”

  Burke tucked the napkin into his collar. “How about a couple glasses of nice cold milk?”

  “Coming right up, sir.”

  Again, Lexie wanted to protest his free spending, but it had been a very long time since she’d had a glass of milk. She licked her lips as the waiter sat the foamy milk before her, knowing she should deny it. One glance at Burke drinking, then saluting her with his half-empty glass, convinced her she might as well indulge.

  Ah, the sweet, cold, refreshing milk trickled down her throat. She’d willingly forgo a dozen steak dinners if only she could have a glass every evening.

  Burke carved off a hunk of steak. “Good, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Eat up. We have a brother to find.”

  “You have a brother to find. I have a scoundrel to find.”

  “Your steak’s getting cold.” He shoveled a bite into his mouth, then closed his eyes as if savoring manna from heaven.

  She smiled, then giggled—a little rusty, as if she hadn’t done so in a long while. “It’s just steak, Mr. O’Shaughnessy.”

  He swallowed, then pointed his fork at her and grinned. “C’mon, Lexie. I’m Burke—not Mr. O’Shaughnessy. We’ll be traveling together for a few days. You might as well relax and have a good time. Now eat.”

  “And I’m Miss Campbell. You’re entirely too familiar.”

  “Not yet, but I plan to be.”

  So he was a womanizer as well as a thief. She should’ve known. She stabbed the steak. His casual remark reminded her that the bedroom door didn’t have a lock. But then, neither did the stable.

  “Lexie, that was a joke.”

  When she didn’t say anything, he said, “Joke. J-O-K-E. You’re supposed to laugh.”

  “I laugh when there’s something to laugh at.”

  When they finished eating, the waiter cleared their plates and brought their after-dinner drinks.

  “To my brother,” Burke said, raising his glass.

  “To my brother-in-law.” She giggled when Burke groaned, then as he took a swallow, she offered another toast out of pure spite. “To your future wife.”

  He choked and coughed into his napkin, then wiped his face and glowered at her. “That was a waste of perfectly good brandy, ma’am.”

  “I’m quite sure your future wife would agree.”

  At that, he escorted her to his suite. With every step up the stairs, her trepidation about the lack of a lock on the bedroom door grew stronger. But what other choice did she have? With no money, no chance of getting any, and a hotel clerk who thought her a fallen woman, she had no other recourse. She set her jaw, reaffirming her determination to bring Patrick O’Shaughnessy back to Silverton to make her sister an honest woman.

  Burke unlocked the door to the sitting room for her. “I ordered a bath for you—enjoy it. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Relieved that he didn’t intend to linger while she bathed but worried he’d skip out on her, she asked, “Where are you going?”

  “Just downstairs. A few of the fellows wanted to get together for a game or two.”

  Just then, the busboy carried a bathtub into the room and plopped it in the middle of the carpet. A young girl followed him, hauling two buckets of steaming water, and poured it into the tub. “We’ll be right back with more water, ma’am.”

  Burke left and Lexie stood idly while she waited for the maid. Towels hung on a hook right above the washstand, which held a fresh bar of soap, a pitcher of water, and a razor strop. She remembered her youth in the Upper West Side of Manhattan and yearned for the days when a maid did all the mundane duties required in life.

  Sighing, she went into the bedroom, and took off her gloves, placing them palms together on the bureau, then removed the pins from her bonnet and hung it on a hook on the wall. A bath would be most refreshing after spending over two hours on the sooty train, then having her money stolen.

  Not that she was destitute—Burke had given her all she needed and, she somehow knew, would continue to do so as long as she traveled with him. She also knew he’d abandon her at the first opportunity.

  Nothing could keep her from helping her little sister in her time of need. She could hardly bear to see Helen ostracized by their parents for philandering with Patrick O’Shaughnessy, and Lexie had made up her mind to make him pay the ultimate sacrifice—his ever so precious bachelorhood. The five thousand dollars, well, she’d never see that again, but she’d sure like to take it out of his hide.

  Not that Patrick would make a good husband for Helen—Lexie had no delusions about that—but he’d at least give the baby a name before he took off for parts unknown. Tha
t’s all she asked. Of course, Helen held onto the fantasy that Patrick loved her and would return. Lexie knew better. She’d be the one to deal with her sister’s broken heart.

  The maid and the busboy returned, each carrying two buckets of hot water. When they left, Lexie locked the main door and wasted no time removing her clothing, carefully hanging her dress and petticoats on the hooks on the wall. She put the soap and one towel on a dry spot on the floor beside the tub, then slipped into the water, breathing in the steam.

  After she relaxed a bit, she washed thoroughly and got out before the water cooled. Much as she’d like to soak for a while, the tub was in the sitting room and Lexie expected Burke would return soon. After all, ten o’clock was time for anyone to be in bed, even a gambler.

  She donned her nightgown, brushed out her hair and went to bed. But even after she blew out the lantern, she could still see the dim outline of the door with no lock. No respectable woman would sleep in a room where compromise could come so easily. She got out of bed and scooted the chair across the floor, jammed it against the door, and went back to bed.

  But the chair looked inadequate to the task. Tired as she was, she got up again and scooted the bureau, wincing when it screeched on the plank floor, and shoved that in front of the chair. She wiped her brow and went back to bed.

  The more she thought about it, the more she realized that if she could push that bureau, Burke certainly could push it much more easily. She threw off the covers and got up again, scooted the bureau back, removed the chair, shoved the bureau against the door and threw her carpetbag on top if it, then wedged the chair in front. She went back to bed.

  That chair seemed a little rickety. It certainly wouldn’t hold if he managed to move the bureau. Ever so tired, she got out of bed again and lit the lantern. No more furniture. She shrugged. Except for the bed—a huge four-poster that looked far too heavy for her to move. Nevertheless, with her sister compromised, she saw no need to invite more trouble. She moved the chair aside and walked to the other side of the bed.

  With all her might, she pushed and pushed, droplets of perspiration popping out on her forehead. The bed made a horrible noise as it scraped across the floor, but, gritting her teeth and firming her resolve, she continued to force it until it abutted the bureau.