9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  “How did you get that out of my bag?”

  “You never actually put it in the bag. I’d already lifted it.”

  Now she knew for sure he’d stolen her money in Durango. But it didn’t make sense that he’d take forty-seven dollars and nineteen cents, then give her well over two hundred. “And your brother? Is Patrick a thoroughbred?”

  Burke nodded once. “Patrick, too. Our father and mother taught us well. We’ve been doing card tricks and magic since we could walk.”

  “What an odd thing to teach children.” She stashed the brooch in her carpetbag, this time making good and sure it stayed where she put it.

  “No.” He shrugged. “Didn’t you learn your father’s business?”

  “Well, yes. My father’s a natural history professor at Georgetown University and I helped him prepare his lectures, plus, I mounted most of his entomology collection.”

  “And your sister?”

  “Oh, no. She’d never touch a bug. She’s a pianist, like our mother.”

  “There you go—family ways. My parents were what we call thoroughbred gamblers. Patrick and I were raised on the Mississippi riverboats. We learned prestidigitation, too. Do you know what that is?”

  “Of course. Sleight of hand, like when you pulled coins out of the children’s ears on the train.” And gave those same coins away like money meant nothing to him at all.

  “Right. And we learned to play a few cons, too, although we mainly stuck with cards. But then, three-card monte is close to a con even though it would never work if the fish weren’t so greedy that they thought they would rob me.”

  “That’s a strange way of looking at it.”

  “Strange, maybe, but true. You can’t win money from someone who isn’t willing to take yours.”

  “Just like I was sure I’d get George’s money, but instead, he took all of mine.”

  “Right. Then I took all of his. And all his friends’ money, too, for good measure.”

  “All of it?”

  “Naw, I left them enough for a room, a meal, and a stake in their next game. If they don’t drink it.”

  “Why didn’t you take it all?”

  “Golden rule.” He put his Stetson on and backed out of the room. “We need to be at the train station at seven in the morning, so I’ll pick you up for breakfast at six.” With a smile and a tip of his hat, he left.

  She shut and bolted the door, then leaned against it, wishing he’d stayed. Had she been wrong about him? Her heart pumped like she’d just chased a danaus plexippus in a windstorm—and butterflies were hard enough to catch in still weather.

  Sort of like a rambling gambler. Would such a kind man strand her? She still thought so, but how could a gambler—a thoroughbred—act so gallant?

  His hands. She crossed her arms over her breast and placed her hands on her shoulders where he’d held her. The tingles were still there, especially if she closed her eyes and remembered the lingering scent of his bay rum.

  There was something especially attractive about a man who admired her intellect. The only man, actually. Her parents had tried in vain to hide her keen grasp of numbers from prospective suitors. Burke seemed to appreciate her mathematical ability, and even more important, he didn’t patronize her when she’d done a stupid thing. He’d believed her when she’d said that the dealer had played the clover twice.

  Why, oh why, couldn’t he be a banker? Or a stockbroker? Or even a blacksmith? Why did the only man who could match her, and even outwit her at times, have to be a gambler?

  Lexie scooped the money from her nightstand, placing four hundred fifty-four dollars into her handbag. So far, this hadn’t been her day. She’d even underestimated the pile of money. That seldom happened. But then, she’d been a bit rattled by Burke’s kind understanding.

  And his presence. Much as she hated to admit it, she did enjoy his wit. And his broad shoulders. The small hotel room seemed empty when he’d left.

  The mine foreman needed operating funds, and she intended to send the four hundred dollars to him. That should hold him until her return to Silverton. She put on her bonnet and gloves, grabbed her parasol, and headed for the Amargo bank.

  She stopped by the telegraph office and wired the foreman, telling him to expect the money, and informing him of her destination in case he had any questions. The man had been running the mine for several years, so he could do fine without her for a few weeks. Still, she’d been remiss about keeping him informed—she should have wired him when she left Durango.

  Much to her delight, the general store had ledger books displayed in the window. Unable to resist, she stopped and purchased one. The store clerk let her use his pen to record the transaction. As she walked to the bank, she reminded herself that her quest was to find Patrick so he could make an honest woman of her sister—not for her to act like a strumpet. The sooner she returned to Silverton and her mine, the better. She enjoyed the daily assaying and accounting, and the work was considerably more honorable than losing her money to a cardsharp.

  With heat flushing her cheeks once again, Lexie swore to never play another game of poker. Nor would she swoon over a man of questionable character, even if Burke had recovered her money, plus more, and her brooch.

  Helen had already made a fool of herself over a man not suitable to her station. Lexie didn’t need to compound the issue with inappropriate behavior of her own. She could only imagine her mother fainting dead away if she knew the shambles her daughters had made of their lives in a mere few weeks.

  No more letting Burke put his hands on her shoulders, she vowed. His strength and lazy smile were all too attractive. She refused to be his next conquest.

  Mr. Burke O’Shaughnessy was forbidden fruit.

  * * *

  Dayton Wardell scurried into the saloon and up the stairs. Velma would be ever so grateful when he told her he’d seen Burke O’Shaughnessy. At first, he thought he’d found Patrick, but then Wardell saw that the man was Patrick’s older brother, Burke—the man who’d suckered him at his own game and got him arrested for fraud. The elder O’Shaughnessy brother was a dead man, but first Dayton planned to use Burke to guide him to the bastard who had cheated him out of his mine—Patrick.

  How very convenient.

  He entered Velma’s rented room without knocking and slapped his long-time lady friend on the butt. “I seen him.”

  Velma finished her mug of beer in three gulps. She took a long drag from her cigarillo as she planted her other hand on her well-rounded hip. He couldn’t resist a woman with not only a fine caboose, but a couple of hefty handfuls up front that were big enough to suffocate in. She raised one eyebrow, questioning him.

  “Burke O’Shaughnessy. Yup, I seen him.”

  “Good. I figured he’d stop here in Amargo. But be careful. Don’t you go letting him throw you in jail again, Dub. I ain’t waiting while you spend another three years in the jug.”

  Wardell always softened when she called him Dub. She was the only one who did. “Ah, don’t you worry none about that, luv. He’s not worried about me—you told me that he’s on Patrick’s trail. All’s we gotta do is follow Burke, and we can get rid of both O’Shaughnessy brothers.” Wardell pulled her skirt up.

  Velma swatted him away. “You can plug ‘em, all right, but that won’t get your mine back. Going off half-cocked is how you lost it in the first damned place. I didn’t suffer waiting on those two society bitches for nearly a year for you to bungle this up.”

  He took off his hat and scratched his head. “You’re right.”

  “So just exactly how do you plan to go about making Patrick sign those papers over to you?

  When she batted his hand away from her breast, he groaned, “C’mon, Velma, let’s have us a little fun and then we can make a plan.”

  She turned away and poured herself another beer. He could tell she was mad on account of she never passed up a chance to hop in the sack with him. “We’ll make the plan first. Then I’ll think about it.” />
  Just to entice her, he threw out a plum. “One of them society bitches is with Burke.”

  Facing Wardell again, she cocked her knee and put one hand on her hip—where his hand would be any minute now. “I told you that, stupid. It’s Miss Lexie. I’m surprised he’s not shed of her yet.”

  “O’Shaughnessy looks mighty taken with her. I reckon we’ll follow her for a while. What do you bet they catch the train to Antonito in the morning?”

  “More’n likely. Miss Helen’s probably on the loose, too, since there was no one to keep her home. You seen her?”

  “Nope.” But he wouldn’t mind getting his hands on the younger Campbell sister—young, blonde, and with a body that left him aching since the first time he’d seen the little tramp. But for tonight, he’d settle for the breasty Velma. “You be at the train station with your traveling dress on and find out where she’s going. I’ll board the train and bring her back to you.” He nuzzled Velma’s ear. “You like that, sugar pie?”

  A smile spread over Velma’s lips and her eyes sparkled. “I can hardly wait to see that stuck-up wench grovel at my feet.”

  Maybe he could round up the younger sister, too. Who knew what Velma would do if he got rid of both of them for her. “Let’s get started on some lovin’ then, baby cakes.”

  She pushed him away. “Later. Find out where they’re going for sure, and maybe I’ll let you have a little. Maybe.”

  “I swear woman, you’re gonna kill me.” He jammed his hat on. The girls down at the saloon would be glad to see him—and his money.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped. Velma slid her arms around his waist and brushed her breasts against his chest while she nuzzled his neck with her lips. “Just remember what you have to come back to, Dub.”

  The urge to grab her and take her up against the wall was strong, but he fought it off. Velma was a lady. He’d never force her. But he was getting mighty impatient.

  “Go on, now. See if you can find a woman who can do to you what I can.”

  None of the working girls could hold a candle to Velma and he knew it, but at least he could get some satisfaction for the moment.

  The real satisfaction would come when he had his mine back and both O’Shaughnessy brothers were pushing up daisies.

  Chapter 5

  “Miss Campbell?”

  Lexie vaguely recognized the hotel maid’s voice, followed by a rap on the door.

  A bleary-eyed glance at the clock registered a much too early hour considering she’d spent the night half-awake, dreaming of a charming gambler with blue eyes that shone with teasing confidence. She’d dreamed of brushing her hands across his broad shoulders. Worse, she’d wanted him to do the same to her. And more.

  With an unenthusiastic flip of the blankets, Lexie sighed as she dragged herself out of bed.

  Another rap on the door was followed by, “Miss Campbell?”

  “Coming.”

  Since she had no robe, she opened the door a crack.

  The maid, a plain brunette dressed in a gray homespun dress with a crisp, white apron, held out a package. “Mr. O’Shaughnessy said to give you this. I’m to stay and help you with your morning ablutions.”

  Lexie stood back and let the girl in.

  “I’m Alice.” She handed Lexie the package. “I have hot water for you to wash up with.” The maid went back in the hall and brought back a steaming bucket.

  “Thank you.” Lexie opened the package to find a green traveling suit, complete with unmentionables. Her breath caught a moment and her first reaction was to send the clothes right back to the man who’d sent them. Such an intimate gesture was not only improper, but downright scandalous.

  Still, she’d spent two days in the same clothes and no amount of brushing could remove the cinders and soot. And who’d ever know?

  Half an hour later, she met Burke in the dining room. He seated her, then gestured at the waiter, who brought two cups of coffee.

  “I’ve already ordered,” Burke told her as she sipped the invigorating brew. “We need to get to the station to buy our tickets. Besides, there wasn’t that much of a selection.”

  “Thank you.”

  The waiter brought their meals. Although Lexie had no appetite, she forced herself to eat an egg and toast, lest Burke see that she’d been bothered by last evening’s activities.

  “You look mighty pretty this morning.”

  She shook herself out of her morning daze and smiled at him. “Thank you for the dress. It’s very comfortable.”

  “And much more beautiful than when it was hanging in the store.”

  “I appreciate it very much...” She paused, about to tell him that he shouldn’t have bought it for her—such a purchase was highly inappropriate for a man to give to any woman but his wife. But oh, how wonderful it felt to wear clean clothes! And what were the odds of a small town dressmaker having a dress her size ready-made? So she simply said, “Thank you. You’ve been very considerate.”

  He leaned forward, his eyes darkened. “It’s not hard to be considerate of a woman like you, Lexie.”

  His low voice sent a pleasant shiver through her. She dabbed the napkin to her lips and scooted her chair back. “I have to get my things. I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes.”

  Burke rose, too, and drew a large roll of bills out of his pocket. He threw twenty dollars on the table for the tip.

  Twenty dollars! What could he be thinking? “Mr. O’Shaughnessy, I hardly think the waiter is expecting a nineteen-dollar tip!”

  With a crooked grin, he doffed his hat. “I’ll bet that’ll make his wife happy, won’t it?”

  “I suppose, but you must learn to be more conservative with your funds.”

  “Oh, must I?” He escorted her through the lobby, then stopped to settle with the desk clerk. “We’ll need a bellboy in 212.”

  The clerk scribbled a few notes and took Burke’s payment. “I’d be very happy to assist you, Mr. O’Shaughnessy,” he said as he scrambled from behind the counter. “Anytime.”

  As Burke escorted Lexie up the stairs, she parroted the clerk’s words. Burke shrugged. “Tips. What can I say?”

  Back in her room, Lexie double-checked to make sure her ruby brooch was still in her carpetbag before she closed it. She still didn’t know how Burke had taken it out of there in the first place.

  While she heartily disapproved of his actions, she had to admire his adeptness in the art of prestidigitation. His kindness had been unexpected, too. The four hundred dollars would keep the mine operating for another month. Too bad that he had no sense whatsoever when it came to money.

  And too bad that such an intelligent, charming, and yes, handsome man chose a path that closed him off from her forever.

  The walk to the train station with Burke made her day. Nearly every woman they passed cast an admiring glance his way. Lexie couldn’t help but raise her chin a bit and smile with the glory of having the prize—for the moment.

  The freedom of movement intoxicated her, too. Sitting on the train, sitting in the card room—an experience she’d rather forget—and sitting in her room. She’d been cooped up in the stuffy hotel for a day and a night. The cool, morning air smelled of pine, horses, and...

  “Oh, my stars, cherry turnovers!” She licked her lips as she followed her nose to the bakery, pulling Burke with her.

  He chuckled, then held the door open for her. As she looked over the goods, he caught the baker’s attention. “I’ll have a dozen cherry turnovers, packaged up, and another one to eat now.”

  Lexie scooted to his side. “A dozen?” she whispered. “There are only two of us, for heaven’s sake.”

  “One of us,” he answered with a wink. “I hate cherries. You’ll see what the others are for.”

  The baker handed Burke the single turnover, which he, in turn, gave to Lexie. One bite of the flaky pastry with the sweet cherry filling tasted so heavenly, she tilted her head back slightly and let her taste buds work overtime.
The warm turnover couldn’t have been out of the oven more than a few minutes. She ate the rest of it with passionate delight, licking her fingers as she popped the last morsel in her mouth.

  After the other twelve were packaged, Burke paid with a twenty. “Keep the change,” he said as he escorted Lexie outside.

  “Twenty dollars? That’s a dollar fifty-four a piece!” She could hardly believe the way he spread money around like so much wheat seed. “Mr. O’Shaughnessy, are you feverish?”

  “What goes around, comes around.” He shifted the package to his left hand so that he could escort her with his right. “And if you call me Mr. O’Shaughnessy one more time, I won’t buy you any more turnovers.”

  Or save her from any more scoundrels. But it seemed so familiar to call him by his Christian name. “I’ll try to remember.”

  “Say it now, just to get into practice.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly.”

  “I may be many things, Lexie Campbell, but silly is not one of them.” He sounded offended.

  Even with her limited experience with men, she should have known not to use that word in reference to a male of the species. Men had such delicate constitutions in regards to matters of pride.

  “I am sorry, Burke.”

  He nodded, but she wasn’t real sure all was forgiven.

  “Did the bellman give you the luggage tags?”

  “Did you think I’d leave the hotel without them?”

  “No.” But she wouldn’t put anything past this man, and she wanted to make sure he had no opportunity to abandon her. Still, she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t. Or at least hope.

  They passed several beggars with raised cups, rattling coins. Lexie moved closer, hugging Burke’s arm. Many women made lewd comments to Burke, but he ignored their propositions. Lexie wondered how they had the nerve.

  “Because they need to eat and a place to sleep, just like you and me.”

  She pressed her hand to her slightly opened mouth, appalled that she’d expressed her thoughts out loud.