9 Ways to Fall in Love
Page 179
Her cheeks hot with embarrassment, she entered the pharmacy, then gathered her courage and approached the druggist.
“I’m in Denver to attend to my sister, who just bore her eighth child, and she asked me to procure something to, um...”
He waited for her a moment, and then said, “Lanolin? For nursing?”
Two finely dressed women came into the store, browsing entirely too near her. Lexie hoped the druggist would have the courtesy of discretion. The ladies didn’t chatter, but occasionally murmured something about an item on the patent medicine display. Every few minutes, they glanced at her, as if waiting for her to leave.
“Er...” She gulped. “No, to prevent the ninth baby from happening.”
“Ah. You want a pessary.”
“For my sister.”
“Yes, for your sister. You wait right here and I’ll get it for you.”
The two ladies meandered to the counter and stood beside Lexie.
“Where are you working?” the older woman asked.
“Working?” Why would these ladies think she had a job? “I’m not right now, but will be later this summer.”
“Ah, I see.”
Lexie didn’t, and she wished the druggist would hurry.
Finally the druggist emerged from the back room carrying a large bag and another small one. “Miz Binard, I’m nearly out of pessaries. I gave you all of them except one. I hope you don’t mind—more will come in on tomorrow’s train and I’ll give you a discount.”
“That will be fine. I’ll send one of the girls over to pick up another dozen.”
Lexie wondered why anyone would need any more pessaries than she’d already bought.
The woman turned to Lexie and handed her a card. “If you want to make a few dollars before you start your job, give me a visit. We can always use a fine woman such as yourself.”
The card read, “Madam Belle Binard, 1952 Holladay Street.”
Lexie thought she was going to faint. The woman thought she was a cyprian!
The druggist said to Lexie, “I’ve included instructions for your sister.” He handed her the small bag. “
She didn’t appreciate his emphasis of “your sister,” but paid him and fled from the store. All the way back to the hotel, she wondered if people could see what she carried in the bag, but she summoned her courage and soldiered on.
Now she just needed to figure out how to use the thing, and hoped his instructions were clear.
More than that, she hoped she could get to her room and stash the pessary before she was found out. Clutching the package to her side, she hurried down the crowded boardwalk, crossing Arapahoe and turning right on Seventeenth Street.
“Lexie,” she heard Burke shout. “Wait up!”
Joe’s bells! The last thing she wanted was to be noticed. The package wrapping should’ve been thicker. Or maybe the pessary should’ve been put into a box instead. Or maybe she should never have purchased it in the first place.
But she stopped and waited for him, even managing a smile.
He brought another middle-aged fellow with him—short but nice features, sandy hair, and a ready smile.
“This is George. He worked the Mississippi with my parents, and happened to be in Denver.”
“How do you do, Mr. George.” She switched the package to her left arm and offered her right, which he gallantly kissed.
“George is my first name, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy. I’ve never felt the need for a surname.”
Burke had even told his friend that they were married? Registering at a hotel as man and wife was one thing, but telling your parents’ friend was quite another. How was he planning to explain his lack of a wife in a few weeks?
The marital reference didn’t faze Burke a bit. “George will help you learn the ropes as a capper. He helped train me, and Charity, too.”
“Two apt students, they were,” George bragged. “My way to make a little contribution to our illustrious trade.”
Burke offered his arm to Lexie. “Let’s find something to eat, than get to work.”
As she took his hand, George took her package. “And I’ll carry your parcel for you.”
She could’ve died of mortification.
* * *
After the three of them had gone to the hotel and Lexie had stashed her private parcel, the trio headed to Union Station. Lexie and George blended in with the passengers who’d disembarked from the latest train and congregated just outside Union Station. She still wore the same dress she’d worn on the way to Denver—royal blue traveling suit with a pale yellow flowered inset from waist to hem. She’d wanted to change but George pointed out that traveling attire was perfect for the location, and the vivid blue would make it easy to keep track of her in a crowd.
“Look just the other side of the porter’s stand. Your husband has picked a good spot—everyone has to stand around and wait for their luggage. They’re bored, restless, and have rolls of money.”
The air of impatience did permeate the street. Any curiosity drew attention from the milling masses.
“Do you have a derringer?”
“Of course not.”
“Then take this one.” He dropped the palm pistol into her handbag. “It would be better if it were hidden on your person—a secret pocket or even in your cleavage.”
She gasped at his reference but it didn’t seem to bother him a bit.
“Not that capping is any more dangerous than other jobs, but you never know—we might get separated and you’d be on your own.”
“Thank you.” Lexie hoped the pistol wouldn’t be necessary, but it gave her a little insurance. She didn’t quite know how to proceed with this capping task, but she figured Burke would send her some sort of signal. “I don’t want to stare at him or be too obvious.”
“Sure you do. Someone needs to be curious about his little game there. He’ll start throwing in a minute. Just wait until he starts his patter, and you can make yourself known anytime after that.”
Lexie was nervous as a mouse in a frying pan, and Burke was taking his own sweet time. George patted her arm. “Soon, now. Be calm. Your man knows the game.”
“He’s not my man.”
“Looks like he is.”
“No. He just said we’re married because we’re traveling together and it’s easier to get hotel rooms. I have my own room and he has his. We’re not really married.” She studied the seam of her glove. “Since you’re a family friend of theirs, I thought you should know.”
George coughed, hiding a smile. “Both of you need to work on your poker faces, then, because anyone can tell the two of you are lovebirds.”
Her face flushed hot. He knew!
“Don’t let him end up like me, Lexie. He’s a good man, better than most—he doesn’t deserve to die alone.”
She wanted to ask George why he chose to be a bachelor, but Burke began throwing the three cards, and he’d begin his patter soon. George left her to approach the game from the other side.
“I have three cards. All you have to do is keep your eye on the baby.” He held up the queen of hearts. “I have two chances to win and you have one, but if you can keep your eye on the baby, you’ll win every time.”
People milled toward him but no takers. Lexie pushed closer while he threw some more and started his second round of patter. When she finally was a few people away, he spotted her.
“Lady, you in the blue.”
She pointed to herself. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I’ll give you a game for free. Can you pick the card?”
He threw the cards, and the queen of hearts had a little wrinkle in the corner. “Pick a card—your one chance to my two.”
When she pointed at the card with the wrinkled corner, the crowd, especially one young man, got excited because they knew which card would be the winner every time.
The next round, she picked the wrong card and the crowd groaned. Burke gestured to the young man to step forward. “Can you pick the baby?�
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And of course he did, so Burke threw the cards again. “This time, you have to put your money down. Ten dollars.
Burke let him win again. Soon, Burke was down five hundred dollars. “You’ve got to let me win my money back. I’ll bet you double or nothing on the next throw.”
The young man beamed at Lexie. “I’ll get every dime he has.”
“Isn’t that a little greedy?”
“Naw, it’s the way of the West.” He nodded at Burke. “You’re on.”
A minute later, Burke was a thousand dollars richer.
Chapter 13
George wanted to play poker but Burke wanted to play Lexie. Even though it disappointed many of the high rollers Burke begged off.
“Ah, Burke,” George said. “These people have been waiting for you. It’s the talk of the town.”
Burke loved playing the big game and he’d looked forward to it, but in all truth, poker didn’t seem as important as it did even a week ago. He didn’t have that much time left with Lexie, and he wanted to make the most of it. He wanted to be with her every second he could, touch her, kiss her. He admired so much about her—her determination, her smile, and most of all her intellect. Lexie was the only woman he’d ever met who could not only keep up with him, but best him in nearly any intellectual pursuit. Why that attracted him so much, he couldn’t say.
* * *
The second they got inside the hotel room, Lexie hurled herself at Burke, knocking him back a step, and flung her arms around him.
“Oh, Burke. We did it.” She was exhilarated because she had done something she never thought she could do. Then again, she never thought she would or should do such a thing in the first place. But it excited her to realize that there was more than to be shoehorned into a narrow slice of life, or the path her parents had taken. A whole new world waited for her and she wanted to experience it all. But only with Burke.
He grabbed her in a big bear hug and twirled her round. She kissed him with abandon and knocked her bonnet crooked. He kissed her right back and she melted in his arms, but then stiffened when good sense brought her back to Earth—she was acting in a very unladylike manner, and in front of his friend, George!
“I’m so sorry, George. We don’t normally do such things.”
George laughed, his eyes twinkling. “If I were Burke, I would change that to normal. You’re one of a kind, Lexie.”
“You’re right about that, George. Lexie’s the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. I knew she was special when she shot a hole in my hat.”
She smacked him playfully on the arm. “You deserved that. Or at least your brother did.”
“She shot a hole in your hat?” George laughed, grabbed Lexie, and did a jig with her around the room. “I hope she didn’t shoot your lucky hundred-dollar bill.” He parked her back in Burke’s arms. “Now it’s time to get you ready for the big game.”
Burke held Lexie at his side and said, “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe I don’t need to be in the game.”
He didn’t? Why not? Gambling was in his blood—of course he wanted to be in the biggest and riskiest game around.
George didn’t blink, but then he was a consummate poker player, too. “You jest.”
Burke shrugged and squeezed Lexie’s waist. “There’s always another big game. I think I’ll sit this one out.”
“Sit it out?”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“The fellows have been looking forward to beating your ass since they heard you were in town.”
“How about they beat your ass instead of mine?”
“It would be more of a challenge.”
Burke laughed good-naturedly, took out his roll of bills, and peeled off ten grand. “Here’s your stake.” George took it and Burke tossed a couple hundred more at him, which he caught with the skill only a man accomplished in the art of sleight could. “And here’s some fun money. Bring us back a present.”
George looked pleased but maybe a little sad. Lexie recalled his words a few hours before, that he yearned for a chance at love. “I’ll whoop ‘em and bring you back ten times this much money.”
“We’ll split sixty-forty. I reckon forty thousand ought to get us to Virginia City and back.”
“It’s good as done.”
When George left, Burke held her close and nuzzled her throat. “Lexie you’re amazing. I’ve never seen anyone do such a good job as a capper their first time out.”
“It was exhilarating, but scary. And even though many of them said they were out to take your money, it still didn’t seem right to take theirs.”
“Ah, but Lexie-girl, in all walks of life men strive to best one another the same as three-card monte. Take banking, for instance. When you take out a loan the banker charges you interest. You need money, they have money, and they’ll give it to you for a price. But if you don’t pay it back they take everything you’ve got. That describes three-card monte. Or think about life insurance. You’re betting that you’ll die but they’re betting you won’t. And it’s your money at stake.”
“I never thought of it that way. But you’re right, those people today thought they were certain of getting your money. Still, that’s not what I want to do with my life, although it was fun to do once. And you sure do learn a lot about human behavior.”
He kissed her forehead and held her face in his palms. “I have a good idea. Put on that fancy dress of yours and let’s go dancing.”
“But I’m a terrible dancer.”
“You’re in luck. I’m a great dancer.”
Somehow she knew that was no exaggeration. Burke was graceful and athletic whether he was juggling apples, dealing cards, or making love. It would be any woman’s dream to be swept around the room in his strong arms.
“And humble.”
“Just stating the facts ma’am.”
“You’ll have to send up a maid to help me dress.” She had prepared well for the night but she needed time to read the instructions on how to use the pessary.
“Want me to send up some milk, too?”
“You are incorrigible.”
“That’s what they say.” He waggled his eyebrows. He swept into a gallant bow and left the room.
One minute he was loving and gentle, then next minute he was out skinning half the population of Denver. He lived for cards. He lived for magic and sleight of hand. But he didn’t live to capture the heart of only one woman. Burke was a man for all women, the pied piper of children, the envy of gamblers, and the bane of all cheaters.
But tonight—tonight was for her and she refused to fritter it away.
A few minutes later, the maid arrived carrying a pitcher of milk, a bouquet of flowers, a new pair of dancing slippers, and an armload of towels.
“Your bath is on its way, soon as Lazy Harry gets it up here, which better be pronto.”
“Thanks. I’ll be happy to wash this coal soot off me.”
“I’ll brush your dress while you’re out dancing. Mr. O’Shaughnessy says to give you anything you want. My, any woman would love to have a man like that. Your Mr. O’Shaughnessy is quite a looker. My Fred is more on the homely side, but he has a big heart and would do anything for me and the young’uns.”
Handsome as Burke was, his looks were actually the least of his attractions to Lexie. Mostly, she was drawn by his big heart.
* * *
It wasn’t a ball, merely entertainment for couples staying at the hotel. Still, Lexie felt like a princess with her green gown and emerald necklace, and escorted by a handsome prince, dressed in a new suit. He had a daisy in his lapel and had brought her a matching corsage.
The chamber orchestra played La Traviata Waltz, and more than a dozen couples danced, while equally as many lined the dance floor and watched.
Not one of them were counting the beats, and she’d bet her ledger book that Burke wouldn’t have to, either.
“Would you like some refreshment before we dance?”
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p; “Yes, please.” It would buy her some time. Maybe the grace of the couples on the floor would somehow seep in and she could keep her clumsiness a secret for a while longer.
Her tighter-than-usual lacing didn’t leave much room for liquids, but she pretended to sip to prolong the wait. One more song ended, and when the orchestra struck up another, Burke took her arm and let her to the middle of the dance floor.
She rested her left hand on his shoulder and he took her right hand in his. The orchestra struck the first chords of Invitation to Dance. Lexie was relieved that their first dance would be slow, so she could remember the steps. Her last attempt at dancing had been two years before, and that hadn’t ended well. Her escort took her home early, complaining of sore toes.
After she took one last longing glance at those souls seated along the wall, Burke pulled her along. She concentrated on not looking at her feet, a bad habit according to her mother, and counted one-two-three. Back-back-side, side-side-back. His feet were relatively safe as long as he didn’t turn her.
“Lexie-girl, relax your arm and please don’t squeeze my hand off. I might need it sometime.” He grinned and swept her in a circle. “Listen to the music and go with it.”
She couldn’t say anything because of the one-two-three.
“And if you don’t smile, I’m going to kiss you senseless right here on the dance floor.”
“You wouldn’t!”
He grabbed her waist and twirled her around, then when she faced him again, he pulled her so close, she could feel his heartbeat. “I wouldn’t?”
“You would.”
He gazed into her eyes. “I want to.”
She wanted him to kiss her, too, but not here. Dancing like a bear with a wooden leg attracted enough unwanted attention, and dancing with the most handsome man in the room attracted even more.
“Maybe I will.” His voice rumbled around her, enveloping her as much as the music.
Maybe she’d let him.
Between Burke and the music, she fairly floated in his arms, and the waltz ended all too soon.
The next dance, she was claimed by an elderly gentleman, and after that, a stiff banker-type man with a waxed mustache. Burke danced with middle-aged ladies who tittered at him like green girls.