9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  Abigail stood demurely. No one would ever know that yesterday she’d been a saloon girl. Hopefully, no one would find out, either. “I’ll go to the privy while you’re in line.”

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” After several minutes in line, Lexie purchased the two tickets. Since the telegraph office abutted the ticket window, she checked to see if any messages awaited her. None.

  When she returned to the lobby, Abbie wasn’t there. Lexie searched the Alamosa Depot upstairs and down, and even waited in line for the privy.

  Abigail had abandoned her, too. Burke’s intentions had been good, but unfortunately, the girl must have been beyond redemption. Completely alone now, Lexie’s heart raced and her throat constricted when she realized that she’d have to make her own way all by herself.

  Calm down, she told herself. Make a plan.

  She jutted her chin and, handbag draped over her arm, strolled in a ladylike fashion to the Alamosa Inn.

  A middle-aged gentleman behind the counter, dressed in a white shirt with garters on his sleeves and a slate-gray vest, lowered the Colorado Independent newspaper and peered at her over his reading glasses. He took off his spectacles single-handed, then dabbed the quill pen in the inkbottle, blotted it, and offered it to Lexie. “I allow as you want a room. That’ll be a dollar, and another dollar if you want new sheets and bath water.”

  Shoulder-level to the mahogany counter, she took the quill pen and scratched her name in the register. “Yes,” she murmured as she fumbled in her handbag, extracted two dollars, and set them on the counter. Her dry mouth and short breath prevented her from making small talk. “The bath and sheets, too.”

  “How long are you planning to stay?” His tone sounded none too welcoming.

  She took as deep a breath as her corset would allow, and slowly exhaled to calm herself. “Only until morning. I’m booked on tomorrow’s train.” There, that wasn’t so hard, you ninny. She’d sounded perfectly calm despite her quaking knees. “The porter will be along with my trunks any minute now. Please send them up.”

  The clerk nodded and handed her a key. “Room 212. Dining room opens at five. Your tub will be up in an hour.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  With her back straight and her head high, she ascended the stairs. Once in her room, she shut the door and leaned on it, her eyes closed. Now what?

  With Burke out of the picture, she’d have to question the saloon patrons herself if she wanted to find Patrick. Her best guess was that he’d gone on to Denver. Burke had mentioned a high-stakes game at the Golden Antler Gentleman’s Club there. Cut from the same cloth, Patrick was more than likely in Denver at this very moment, “fishing.”

  Oh, sweet heaven! She was even using Burke’s jargon in her thoughts. She clutched her hands to her breast, then pushed herself off the door. “Time to get busy,” she muttered. One thing she did know, she wouldn’t find Patrick in this room.

  All the hotel rooms in all the towns had started looking the same to her. This one could have been down the hall from the hotel she’d stayed in last night. The dimensions, colors, and arrangement were all similar. The difference lay in the maintenance. A cobweb clung to the corner of the ceiling the same as she’d clung to her family. Someone would whisk it away, just like she’d been. Then the spider would be stuck without a home, with no recourse but to begin spinning a new web.

  Exactly what she’d do.

  Lexie took her ledger out of her handbag and flopped on the bed. She flipped to a blank page in the back and at the top she wrote: How to find Patrick. Under that, she wrote: Question local gamblers.

  The problem was, she’d have to go to a saloon to do that. She’d never set foot in such an establishment and didn’t care to now. The very thought of the awful men in the Amargo Hotel card room brought on a shudder. But before she could make any life for herself, she had to get Helen situated. That meant married to the father of her child.

  With visions of a professorship awaiting her back East, Lexie put her mind to work. She wrote: If no information in Alamosa, proceed to Denver. She tapped her pen on the book. Great plans. Not a lot to fall back on, however.

  If she couldn’t find Patrick, she’d sell the mine to Dayton Wardell and take Helen back to Washington, DC. Helen could take on the O’Shaughnessy name and call herself a widow. Who’d know? While it might not be exactly the honest thing to do, they’d get by quite nicely. Lexie would, with a little luck, be offered a professorship, and they’d all live happily ever after.

  Or Lexie could take the O’Shaughnessy name and call the baby hers. She jumped to her feet. Yes! She wanted a family, and this was the only way she’d ever have one. No man would ever want her. Burke was the only one who’d ever treated her like a woman, not just a lady, and he’d forsaken her.

  But a baby... She wished she could hold the little tyke this very moment and wondered what it would be like to have Burke’s baby. She yanked her bonnet off and slammed it on the bed. He was gone. She might as well get used to it.

  Her heart hurt at the thought of his abandonment. Admittedly, she felt a bit stupid for allowing him into her heart in the first place considering the nature of his business—gaining a person’s confidence, then taking whatever he could get.

  He’d got her, all right.

  * * *

  One thing Lexie admired about the Alamosa Inn—it had a lending library, a fairly decent one, too. She selected Bulfinch’s The Beauties of Mythology and took it with her to the dining room. The waiter asked her when her escort would arrive.

  “I’m dining alone.” She smiled even though she just knew everyone in the place disapproved of a single miss taking such liberties. Too bad Abigail had run off. A little company would have been appreciated.

  The waiter served her courteously, even if he tipped his nose in the air. Nevertheless, she stood her ground—or sat it—and dined leisurely as she escaped into the story of Theseus and Ariadne. Theseus had abandoned Ariadne, too.

  Lexie closed the book. Her steak and potatoes no longer held any appeal. She waved for the waiter to come to her table.

  “Are you finished, ma’am?”

  She was, but she needed information on Patrick, so she shook her head. “I’m waiting for Mr. Patrick O’Shaughnessy. Have you seen him?”

  “About a week ago. Good tipper.”

  “So he’s not here now?”

  “Nope. He’s in Denver, I suppose. Would you like me to bring another glass of milk?”

  Denver. Just as she expected. At the same time, she was relieved because now she didn’t have to search for answers in the saloons. She stifled a shudder. To the waiter, she answered, “Yes, and I’d like it and the rest of my supper sent to room 212.”

  “My pleasure.”

  She fished a dime from her coin purse and slipped it under the edge of the plate. A nickel would have been appropriate, but maybe Burke’s generosity was beginning to rub off on her. At least she hadn’t left twenty dollars. Not that she had twenty dollars to fritter away. Her funds would barely get her to Denver and back to Silverton.

  As the dining room filled with more patrons and the waiter transferred her food to a cart, she dabbed the napkin to her mouth and left for her room. Again, she wondered just what she’d do if Patrick refused to marry Helen. And she speculated on whether Helen would allow Lexie to raise the baby as her own. Somehow, she doubted it. Helen might be a frivolous eighteen-year-old, but she had a very loving heart.

  No sooner had she settled herself in the hotel room, she heard a rap on the door. “Come in,” she said, expecting the waiter.

  Instead, a maid stood there. “A message for you, ma’am.”

  Lexie’s heart soared. Burke hadn’t left her after all! “Thank you.” She took the message and pressed a penny in the girl’s hand.

  She ripped open the envelope and took out the note, anxious to see how Burke justified himself. Instead, the note simply read: Patrick O’Shaughnessy is in Manitou Springs and will be there for
a week.

  The unsigned note’s loopy, elegant handwriting could not have been a man’s. Lexie sagged down on the bed. The good news was that she finally knew where to find Patrick.

  The bad news was that Burke had really, truly dumped her.

  Chapter 7

  Awakened by the early incoming train whistle, Lexie roused herself out of bed and splashed cold water on her face. The morning sun beamed joy through the hazy window as she dressed and packed up her things.

  The cobweb still clung to the corner. She, however, had divested herself of all remnants of security. Burke had dumped her. Helen had betrayed her. Patrick had abandoned Helen. And now Lexie had lost Abigail and prayed the girl would be all right.

  All security was false.

  Today was Lexie’s first day as an independent woman and she intended to take full advantage. She closed the carpetbag with a snap, tossed a nickel tip on the nightstand, pinned on her bonnet, and pulled on her gloves.

  With her chin up, she yanked open the door. A muddy, bloody man fell into her arms.

  Too stunned to scream, she dropped her carpetbag and broke his fall, easing him onto the floor.

  “Burke!” Beat to a pulp, he was, but she couldn’t help but feel relieved to see him. Bloody or not, at least he’d come back to her.

  “Give me a minute,” he mumbled. After a few deep breaths, he pulled himself up to his hands and knees, then stood. None too steadily, either.

  Lexie ducked under his arm, wrapping it around her neck to hold him up, put her other arm around his waist, and walked him the four steps to the bed. He sagged onto the mattress, groaning as he shrugged his jacket off. “Where’s Abigail?”

  Lexie gulped. In his condition, Burke didn’t need to be worrying about a fallen woman who didn’t want to be found. There would be plenty of time to discuss his rescue effort later. “Shopping.”

  “Typical woman.”

  “Lie down, Burke. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

  He unbuttoned his britches. “Not yet. There’s no sense in washing up with muddy duds on.”

  Lexie felt a warmth creep up her neck and into her cheeks. A bona fide blush. She stuttered, “Just what do you need to take off?” She groaned as she felt another blush heat her cheeks. What were the odds of her, Alexandra Campbell, blushing twice in mere seconds?

  Burke smirked, then winced as she dabbed at the scrape on his cheek. “Well, I reckon I’ll only have to get down to my union suit, but I’ll be needing a bit of help, if you don’t mind.”

  Lexie’s cheeks grew even hotter. How long could a person blush before her face became permanently red? Her fingers started itching and her palms tingled at the thought of unbuttoning his shirt. Her mouth dried as she said, “I’ll remove your collar and cuffs. You’ll have to take off the rest yourself.”

  She bent over him to unfasten his collar. He growled, then pulled her to him and kissed her right on the mouth. Her knees turned to pudding, she closed her eyes and sighed into his mouth as she sagged into him. Her stomach did a somersault. Strange and wondrous excitement welled inside her.

  Burke was kissing her. And she was letting him.

  He drew his tongue along the outside of her lips. As her mouth opened, her belly grew tight with an unknown urgency, then, when he flicked his tongue inside her mouth, she nearly collapsed with pleasure.

  She hadn’t read about the tongue business, but if that was the way it was supposed to be done, she’d give it a try. She touched his tongue with hers, then dipped hers into his mouth.

  He pulled back and breathed deeply through his mouth. “Lexie darlin’, you’re killing me.”

  She stood straight and touched her lips as her gaze locked with his. The book had skipped a very important part of making love!

  His darkened eyes bored through her soul as if they would devour her. And darned if she wasn’t a willing prey. But he didn’t need to know that. After he’d left her once, she’d learned her lesson. Burke O’Shaughnessy was not the man to give her heart to.

  She stepped back and collected herself for a moment. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He shrugged, then groaned at the movement. “You didn’t actually hurt me.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and kissed each fingertip. “There’s things that happen to a man when... Oh, blast it, we best get on with the washing.”

  Lexie pursed her lips to keep from kissing him again. She wanted the tingling to stay, the feeling that he gave her deep inside. “Let’s take a look at you.”

  “I’ve been better looking.”

  Burke, only the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on, but that he didn’t need to be told. He had a gash on his scalp, a shiner, numerous bruises and scrapes, and his knuckles were mincemeat. She poured water into the basin and dunked the washcloth in the cold water, not able to curb her curiosity any longer.

  “How did you manage to get in a fight? And where were you?”

  “Your housekeeper’s beau, Dayton Wardell, seems to have a problem with my brother and me. Wardell jumped me just as the train was leaving Antonito. That’s why I had to take the morning train into Alamosa.”

  She waited for Burke to elaborate but he didn’t say any more. “I suspect you’re leaving out a detail or two.” She dabbed at the cut on his head.

  “Call for a bath.” He took the cloth from her and swiped the grime off his neck. “I don’t think a little basin of water will help much.”

  “Are you up to traveling? The train leaves in half an hour.”

  He rubbed his head. “We need to stay here a day or two. My poke’s a might low.”

  “Mr. Wardell lightened your pockets, did he?” She rinsed out the cloth and gave it back to him, then went downstairs and ordered a bath. When she came back, she told him, “We’ll be going to Manitou Springs. Your brother’s there. Will be for a week, so I suppose we could delay our departure.”

  Burke raised his eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

  She leaned against the wall, crossed her arms, and smiled. One-upping Burke O’Shaughnessy was no easy task. “You could call it a woman’s intuition.”

  “You could, or you could tell me how you know.”

  “I could.”

  She was saved from elaborating by a knock on the door—a clerk and two boys brought a tub and hot water. After they left, Lexie said, “I’ll be in the dining room for half an hour. Be decent when I get back.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, woman.”

  She crossed the room and brushed her lips across his, just to see if the same thing happened to her as last time.

  It did.

  * * *

  Burke tugged at his tie as he set off to take a tour of the hotel. Luckily, Lexie had asked the porter to deliver both their trunks to the room, so he had a clean change of clothes. Smart woman. But he’d had a devil of a time getting her to stay in the room while he went to work. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was surprised to see him.

  The Alamosa Inn prided itself in its elegance but the only elegant thing he saw was velvet draperies in the card room. Otherwise, it looked like any dingy hotel in any dusty mining town.

  Minus the high rollers, unfortunately.

  Few men with decent money rolls roamed either the card room or the hotel bar. That, combined with his aching muscles, convinced him to take it easy for the afternoon. He’d go fishing tonight.

  Because of his skinned knuckles, he opted for faro rather than poker so he didn’t have to hold or deal cards. He’d always done well at buckin’ the tiger since success depended on counting cards and figuring the odds. While he doubted there’d be a high-money game in this town, he could make a few bucks to stake him for the evening.

  Other than his knuckles, his shiner, and the bruise on his cheek, most of his wounds were hidden. As a first priority, he put salve on his hands. An old Indian woman had given the medicine to him a few months back after he’d helped her husband out of a fracas. She said it would kee
p his skin supple. He hoped so—a thoroughbred gambler couldn’t afford even a single scrape or callus lest he lose the feel of the cards.

  “Care to join us?” the faro dealer asked.

  Burke nodded and pulled out the money he’d borrowed from Lexie. He’d so hated to take her money that he nearly used his lucky hundred-dollar bill, but he’d carried that bill since his fifteenth birthday when his father had given it to him, and he’d rather sacrifice his pride than use his last-chance money.

  After a few rounds and seventy dollars to the good, he decided to increase his bets. He wanted to make some big bucks tonight. Manitou Springs was the playground for the rich and famous—the Saratoga Springs of the West, it billed itself. Lexie should stay in the finest accommodations and drink the finest wine. She deserved no less.

  “Place your bets, gentlemen,” the dealer droned.

  “Twenty dollars, high.”

  The dealer pulled a card out of the dealing box. “King. High pays.” He doled the winners their earnings.

  A good start, but Burke needed more. He pressed his lips together, remembering the kiss Lexie brushed across them earlier. He’d nearly grabbed her and thrown her on the bed then and there. But she was a lady and he remembered to treat her as such, even though he ached like the very devil for her.

  He realized the dealer was waiting for him to place a bet. “Twenty on high.”

  When the others gazed at him quizzically, he realized the last card played had been a king. And two aces had already been played. With thirty-four cards left in the deck, the odds of the dealer pulling out an ace were next to nothing.

  “Seven. Low pays.” The dealer swept Burke’s twenty into the pot to be divided amongst the other players.

  “Just a hunch that didn’t pay off,” Burke muttered, chastising himself for daydreaming about Lexie’s kiss instead of keeping his mind on his business. He couldn’t recall ever being so distracted.

  But no matter how much she haunted him, he had to provide for her in the manner she deserved, and that took money. With renewed concentration, he set to serious business.