Bess Craig lifted her chin and gave him a cool glance. “You made it, Mr. Riker. Would you like some fried chicken and dried apple pie?”
“I surely would, miss.”
She filled a plate and handed it to him.
“Thank you kindly.” He winked at her.
She blinked, looking astonished, then blushed.
Llewellyn and Potter exchanged glances.
This is the most fun I’ve had since the Union Pacific gang moved on. Gideon took a bite of the drumstick.
Llewellyn hooked his thumbs on his vest pockets. “That house you’re building is coming along well, Riker.”
“That it is. Walls up, windows in, and roof on. Almost ready to move into.” Gideon was right proud of that house. Doc Mitchel and Llewellyn owned the only other houses in town. Sleeping in the back room at the tavern was growing old. There was always someone coming around wanting to buy a drink when he was trying to get a little shut-eye. “I’m only waiting on the stove to arrive to move in.”
Potter nudged Llewellyn. “Guess if we want to make a fortune, we should sell liquor.”
Gideon thought the lawyer’s grin held more spite-filled envy than amusement, but Gideon pretended not to notice and smiled amiably. “Business has been good for most in town since the Craig sisters arrived last June.”
Oscar Hatch’s cheeks jiggled as he chuckled. “That’s the truth. Men in my place night and day wanting baths and their hair and whiskers trimmed.”
“Can’t keep shirts and Bay Rum Aftershave in stock at my place,” Jones agreed.
“A businessman needs to take advantage of such things while he can,” Gideon declared. “Once Miss Craig here and her little sister are married off, bachelors round here won’t have any call to stay clean and smell passable good. Business will probably fall off so fierce you’ll all be poor as church mice.”
The men guffawed.
Gideon nudged Bess lightly and winked again, strangling his laugh at the lightning in her eyes.
“I’m so glad my and my sisters’ presence has benefited you all.” Her lips tightened into a thin line.
Gideon nodded. “Just like the parson said in the service this morning: ‘It’s good to be a blessing to others.’ Right, Miss Craig?”
He almost choked on the furious look she darted his way.
Bess turned her back to him. “Mr. Llewellyn, who would I need to speak with concerning the possibility of renting this jailhouse?”
Llewellyn rocked back on the heels of his black boots—their shine showing even through the dust from Lickwind’s only street. “Whatever would a little lady like you need with a jailhouse?”
“To live in it. There are no houses to rent in town. Not even a room.”
“The Collingswood brothers aren’t kicking you off the Rough Cs, are they?” Gideon asked. The Collingswood brothers weren’t the kind of men to turn good women out on their own resources.
“Of course not. They haven’t once intimated Bertie and I are an inconvenience, yet we most certainly are. Would any of you wish to support four women and two—or more—babies?”
Gideon followed her glance to Matty.
No one answered, but several of the men cringed. A few of them took a step back.
“I thought not,” Bess continued. “In good weather, the ranch is still a long ride from Lickwind. How can Bertie and I support ourselves there? Even if we had goods to sell, the men haven’t time to be driving us to town and back with any frequency. My brothers-in-law say they’ll be starting roundup this week, so the men will have less time than ever to wait on us.”
Llewellyn hooked his thumbs on his vest pockets again and gave Bess a downright fatherly look. “Even saying that’s true, how would living in town make a difference?”
“We’d start a bakery.”
Llewellyn rocked back on his heels again. “Tempting as that sounds, I doubt you’d make enough to support yourselves on it.”
“You might at least give us a chance. At best, the town benefits from our rent and our services. If we don’t make it, what has the town lost?”
“I don’t see how we can allow you to live here, Miss Craig,” Potter intervened. “What if we need to lock up some criminal?”
Bess cast a withering look his way. “Not one man has been arrested since my sisters and I stepped off the train. Besides, there aren’t even bars on the cells or windows.”
“There will be soon.” Potter exchanged a scowling glance with Llewellyn. Both shook their heads.
“I’m afraid our answer must remain no,” Llewellyn said. “It wouldn’t be seemly, two unmarried women living in the town jail.”
“What else would you have us do?” Bess’s voice did nothing to disguise her disgust. “Trek to South Pass to search for gold? Or support ourselves in the manner of Lickwind’s other women?”
Gideon noted with satisfaction that the men had the grace to look embarrassed at her suggestion. Bess Craig wasn’t his idea of perfect femininity, but he admired her grit. The sudden desire to fight for her cause rose up within him. He squelched it. He didn’t mind letting the men believe she’d invited him to this makeshift picnic, but he didn’t want her thinking he was interested in her. Besides, if ever a female didn’t need a man defending her, it was Bess Craig—which is why it made no sense at all when he heard himself say, “You’re welcome to rent my new house, Miss Craig.”
Chapter 4
Three days later, Bess stood in the doorway between the kitchen and parlor, surveying Gideon Riker’s house. It was May 10, 1869, her twenty-fourth birthday, and the first day of her life absolutely on her own. Of course, she and Bertie would share the house, but the responsibility for supporting them fell on Bess’s shoulders. She’d thought she’d feel frightened. Instead, an excitement for the challenge ahead surged through her. She breathed in the scent of new lumber and sawdust.
Bertie, wearing the ever-present brown felt hat, stopped beside Bess. Bess slid her arm around Bertie’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Isn’t it amazing how the Lord provided for us, Bertie? A new house, with a kitchen, parlor, and two bedrooms, when all we asked Him for was that one-room jailhouse. Oh, God is good to us.”
Behind them, Gideon grunted. Ramon growled. Bess jumped in surprise. Turning, she saw her hope chest balanced on Gideon’s shoulder. His defiant gaze met hers. “I’d think I might get some credit. Didn’t see God out here hammering and squaring up walls and laying down a floor.”
“For true, Bess believes God can work through the worst sinner.” Bertie’s eyes shone with sincerity.
Bess resisted the impulse to put her hand over her sister’s mouth.
The look Gideon shot Bess showed full well he believed she thought God had found His worst sinner in Gideon Riker. “Well,” he drawled, “I expect God works through good folk, too, though He might find it takes longer, their pride getting in the way and all.”
“You’ve been most kind.” Bess refused to address the sinner question or acknowledge that he was the last man in Lickwind she’d expected to befriend her and Bertie. “Where do you want this chest?”
“Beneath the parlor window.” Bess pointed to the window, which looked out on the back of the saloon some thirty feet away. “It will double for a chair until we can afford furnishings.”
Gideon placed the chest below the window, straightened, and looked about the empty parlor. “I’ll bring over a table and some chairs from the saloon.”
Bess started to say it wasn’t necessary but stopped herself. She sent a silent thank-you to the Lord for meeting yet another need. “That would be a pure blessing, Mr. Riker.”
Bertie walked to the center of the room and whirled in a circle, her arms out. “Are you going to paint or paper the walls, too, Mr. Riker? And get a rug for the floor? And curtains and—”
“Shush, Roberta Suzanne. He’s exceeded the bounds of generosity already, allowing us to stay here.” Even unfinished, this house was a palace in Lickwind. She nodded toward the k
itchen. “I see your stove came in, Mr. Riker.”
“Arrived on yesterday’s train,” Gideon acknowledged. “Put it in right off. Figured you’d need it for those baked goods you’re planning to sell. It’ll be a lot easier to use the stove for that than the parlor fireplace. I haven’t set aside a separate pile of firewood. Take what you need from the cord behind the saloon.”
“We’ll keep track of what we use and pay for it,” Bess said.
He crossed to the stairway leading to the second floor. “You’ll find two bedrooms up there. I only had time to build one bed, though.”
“A bed?” Surprise washed through Bess. She’d expected to sleep on the floor.
“Easy enough to do with leftover lumber. Sorry there’s no mattress.”
Same as sleeping on the floor. “Easy enough to buy a tick and fill it with straw.” Bess matched his tone, mentally adding one more thing to her list of items to purchase at Jones’s General Store: kerosene lamp, kerosene, candles, matches, broom, baking supplies, mattress tick.
They heard Jim Collingswood’s boots cross the kitchen floor before he entered the parlor and set down two valises. “That’s the last of it.”
Not that there’d been much “it” to bring in from the ranch, Bess thought. Some kitchen items, her hope chest with its linens and blankets, her sewing basket, and the few clothes she and Bertie owned.
As though Jim’s train of thought matched hers, he said, “Cow’s tied to a porch post, and the crate with the chickens is on the back porch. Best keep a lookout against wolves until you get a shed and a chicken coop built.”
Two more things Mr. Riker would need to supply, when he’d done so much for them already. Bess pushed down her guilt. He’d likely increase their rent for the outbuildings, but as Jim indicated, the buildings were necessary to protect their assets.
She raised her eyebrows in a look of question and expectation. “Mr. Riker?”
He scowled but acquiesced. “I think there’s enough scraps of lumber left for something small. You can pay the rent for the outbuildings by sharing the milk and eggs with me.”
Bess nodded briskly, relieved he’d agreed so quickly.
“If there’s nothing more you need from me,” Jim said, “I’ll head over to the general store. Matty wants me to pick up some yarn for the baby clothes she’s knitting. Meet you there, Bess.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she replied. He and Luke had agreed to arrange credit at the general store for the supplies she and Bertie needed. The women would repay them from their profits. Though a business arrangement, it implied the Collingswood brothers trusted her ability to make the bakery profitable, and that meant the world to her.
Bess, Bertie, and Gideon followed Jim through the kitchen and onto the porch.
The tan cow mooed a greeting, and the confined chickens fussed. Bess looked out over the land and smiled. It faced north, and there were no buildings in view for miles. “One can see forever from here.”
“That’s why I put the porch on the back of the house,” Gideon said. “Didn’t make any sense looking at the rear of the saloon when a body could sit out here and look at all of Wyoming. The purple sage makes a pretty sight later in the season.”
Jim jabbed a finger in Gideon’s direction. “I warned Bess this place is too close to the saloon for comfort, but she insisted on trying it. You let anything happen to these women, and I’m coming after you.”
Gideon gave Jim a look Bess could only interpret as, “I’m their landlord, not their keeper,” but he said, “I’ll let my customers know the house is off-limits. And there’s a bar inside the door that’ll keep out undesirables.”
“See you use that bar,” Jim ordered the women before taking off around the cow and the corner of the house.
Gideon pointed toward a narrow building. “Had this built for you, too. Didn’t think you’d want to be sharing the town’s public necessary.”
Bess’s face warmed. “You’ve thought of everything.”
“The well’s this way.” He took the same path as Jim. Bess and Bertie followed. They’d just reached the well when gunfire rang out, followed by the sounds of galloping horses and a cowboy’s “Whoopee!”
The noise startled Bess. Then fear roared through her, rooting her feet to the ground. She grabbed Bertie and pulled her close.
“What on earth—?” Gideon’s head swiveled as he looked for the source of the gunfire. “Get down,” he barked. He pushed Bess to the ground behind the well. She dragged Bertie with her. Gideon all but fell on top of them.
“Oof!” Now I know what’s meant by the term “eat dust.” Bess choked off a chuckle. She wondered if she was becoming hysterical.
The sounds grew closer. Bess tried to see the source, but she could barely move beneath Gideon’s weight. All she saw was Bertie’s old brown felt hat lying in the dust two feet away.
A moment later the hat jumped as though alive as a bullet struck the ground beside it.
Chapter 5
My hat!” Bertie wailed. “Quit that fool shooting!” Gideon roared. Fury and fear for Bess and Bertie burned like fire inside him. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Men usually weren’t drunk enough to start shooting up the town this early in the day. If someone was robbing the bank, why were they riding behind the saloon?
Gideon recognized the cowboy’s face. He’d seen it often enough in his saloon but didn’t know the man’s name. Gideon leaped up and grabbed the halter of the shooter’s horse. The horse pulled him off the ground as it rose on its hind legs, frightened by the gunshots. Gideon fell to the ground, and the horse and rider raced between the saloon and jailhouse back to Lickwind’s only street, where more gunfire and horses’ hooves sounded.
By the time Gideon picked himself up, the women were standing. Bess brushed dust from her skirt, her eyes spitting fire, while Bertie examined her hat. “He almost hit my hat!”
“Be glad it wasn’t on your head at the time.” Gideon looked from one to the other. “You two okay?” They nodded.
“Good. Get back in the house,” he ordered. “You end up shot and the Collingswood brothers will have my hide. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”
He stayed close to the saloon wall as he headed toward the street, his heart pounding faster than train wheels chugging at full speed. Never knew where a stray bullet might land. He peered onto the street. Half a dozen men charged up and down the road on near-crazed steeds, raising a dust cloud like a thick, gritty fog and shooting off pistols—mostly into the air. Cautiously, he stepped onto the boardwalk in front of his saloon.
Jim was running toward him but looking beyond him. Gideon swung around, expecting trouble. He found it. “Bess!”
Jim halted beside them. “You all right, Bess?”
“Yes, but—”
Gideon pushed her against the wall, shielding her from possible stray bullets. “Where’s Bertie?”
“In the house.”
Gideon grabbed her arm and pulled her into the saloon. Jim followed on their heels. “You haven’t the sense God gave grass,” Gideon stormed. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
Bess jerked from his grasp and smoothed the dark blue calico of her dress’s arm. “What’s happening?”
“It’s the Union Pacific,” Jim answered. “Linus Hatch just received the telegraph. One word—’Done.’ The railroad has reached the Pacific.”
“They made it!” Gideon whooped. Grasping Bess around the waist, he swung her around in circles. “They did it!”
Her laughter rang in his ears. Even in the midst of his celebration, he was aware that her laughter was softer and sweeter than he’d expected. It warmed him right through to his bones.
That scared the daylights out of him. Scared him more than the shooting outside. He set her down and steadied her with his hands on her waist while she regained her balance.
Jim watched them with a strange expression.
Bess’s eyes, which G
ideon saw so often flash in anger or cynicism, danced with laughter. “Sorry, Miss Craig. Afraid I got carried away.”
Bess dropped her gaze to the floor and smoothed back the strands of dark hair that had come loose from her bun. “No harm done, Mr. Riker. A little excitement is understandable under the circumstances.”
He grinned. “Hard to believe the railroad reached here only eighteen months ago. Never truly believed it would make it all the way to the Pacific Ocean.” If the railroad had run across the entire country five years ago, his life would be completely different today. He wouldn’t live in Lickwind or own a saloon, and Stan … He pushed away the memories.
A loud clopping sounded against the floorboards. Bess looked over his shoulder toward the door, her mouth agape. He followed her gaze. A black horse stood between the batwing doors, half in and half out of the saloon. The cowboy who’d almost shot Bertie’s hat sat astride the horse.
“Hey, get your horse out of my saloon.” Gideon started toward him.
Bess moved quicker. She grasped the horse’s halter and glared up at the man. “You could hurt someone, shooting up the town. Haven’t you any sense?”
The man’s face registered shock then amusement. “Let go of my horse, lady.”
“I will not.” She looked at Gideon. “Arrest him.”
Gideon stared at her. “Arrest him? Me? I’m not a lawman.”
She looked at her brother-in-law.
He shook his head. “Sorry, Bess. We could throw him in the jailhouse, but we couldn’t keep him there.”
“What is the matter with you two?” Bess demanded. “He’s endangered people’s lives. Get the sheriff.”
Gideon snorted. “There is no sheriff. Besides, the men hereabouts have their own ideas of what is and isn’t law-abiding behavior. You won’t find twelve men in Wyoming who think a cowpoke celebrating the railroad’s final spike is a crime.”
“ ’Fraid he’s right,” Jim agreed.
“Will you two get this woman off my horse?” the cowboy whined.
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 34
