“Jim brought the steak in from the Rough Cs, along with more bread and cake from Corrie and some extra eggs. Can hardly believe the way food flew out of this place.”
“Hope young Walt didn’t get in the way.”
“No, he was a help.” She grinned. “He even milked the cow for us.”
“I didn’t know he knew how.”
“He didn’t. Bertie taught him.”
Gideon chuckled. “Well, Grandmother’s bloomers.”
Bess laughed at his imitation of one of Bertie’s favorite sayings. “Miss Bently asked if Walter might stay with us. I said yes. I’m afraid I forgot it’s your house and your decision.”
He tilted his head and looked at her with a curious expression. “You’d be willing to take him in?”
“Yes. Weren’t you?”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
He appeared at a loss for an answer. “You’ll let him stay here?” she persisted.
“Yes. I’ll bring his bed over tomorrow. It’ll be much better for him staying here than at the saloon.”
She wanted to ask why he ran a saloon since he thought it was a bad place for a boy. More than that, she wanted to ask if there was a reason he befriended Regina Bently in particular, taking her brother under his wing. Was Miss Bently special to him? Bess pushed away the questions. A part of her didn’t want to know the answers.
“I will be needing that table and chairs,” Bess said. “I’ll be teaching Walter and Regina to read.”
He gaped. “Here? In my … your … this house?”
“Yes. Where else?”
“I forbid it!”
Chapter 7
Bess stared at him. “You forbid it?”
“Yes. This is still my house. You and your sister may live in it, but I make the rules.”
“You befriended Miss Bently. You took in her brother.”
“I don’t raise him. I just let him sleep in my back room and spend time there when … when he can’t be with his sister.”
“Why would you forbid my teaching them to read?”
“I’m not. I’m only saying that you can’t teach her here.” Bess lifted her hands, perplexed. “Why?”
Gideon looked at the ceiling and back to her. “Have you thought what it will do to your reputation, having that woman in your home? What it will do to Bertie’s reputation?”
She hadn’t. It’s true that back in Rhode Island, she wouldn’t have considered inviting Regina into her home. But then, she’d never met a soiled dove in Rhode Island. She couldn’t turn her back on Regina when she wanted to improve herself. “If not here, where? I certainly can’t go to … to her home to teach her, and there’s no school building.”
“That’s your problem. Find another place or tell her you rescind your offer.”
Bess planted her fists on her hips. “You allow the woman to work in your saloon. Isn’t it hypocritical to forbid her in your house, especially when her brother is staying here?”
“I won’t change my mind.”
And I won’t rescind my offer. She’d find some way to keep her promise. For the moment, the best tactic appeared to be to divert his focus. “How did Miss Bently and Walter end up in Lickwind?”
“Same way a lot of us did. They were traveling to Oregon with their folks. Wagon broke down crossing a river. Their folks died. Lost everything. Not that there was much to lose, from the way Regina tells it. She and Walter made it as far as Lickwind before what little money she had ran out. They had no way to continue on to Oregon and no way to go back East. Some of Margaret’s girls joined up with a traveling …” He cast Bess a sharp glance. “A service that trailed the Union Pacific crew back in ‘68. Regina thought that would be worse for Walter than living here, so—” He shrugged.
“But why did she choose … what she does … instead of something else?”
“What else?”
Bess lifted her hands again as she searched for possibilities. “Baking, like me and Bertie. Or sewing or doing laundry.”
“Regina wasn’t as fortunate as you and Bertie. She didn’t have the Collingswood brothers or anyone else backing her credit while she laid in supplies and rented a place to live.”
“Oh. I guess I didn’t think it through.”
“Seems decent folk usually don’t when it comes to ladies like Regina.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No?” He sighed. “Maybe not. I’d better head back to the saloon. I’ll get that table and chairs over here. Don’t forget what I said about Regina.”
“How could I?” Bess retorted.
Gideon didn’t answer. He just left saying, “Bar the door.”
Bess swung the bar into place, venting her fury on the piece of wood. “Men. They’re all impossible.”
Three days later Gideon awoke from his first good night’s sleep since the arrival of the telegraph announcing the driving of the final railroad spike. His saloon hadn’t been that busy since the Union Pacific crew laying the track came through Lickwind. Those were good moneymaking days … or rather, nights. The railroad expected the crews to work during daylight hours.
He washed up, shaved, brushed his hair, and picked up the least-worn shirt he owned, trying to ignore the fact he attended to such things more regular now that Bess Craig lived thirty feet away. He wrinkled his nose as he buttoned the shirt. Time to wash clothes or buy new ones.
Gideon looked into his battered coffeepot. Some coffee still remained from yesterday. He stirred the coals in his stove and set the pot to heat. His stomach growled, and an image of hotcakes, fresh from the Craig sisters’ stove, appeared large as life. That and fresh coffee sounded like heaven. Or temptation. He wasn’t about to wind up outside their door every day like every other male in town.
He could hear chairs scraping in the saloon. Harry must be up and cleaning the place. Gideon never could make himself clean up the saloon before morning.
When he walked into the bar with a tin cup of thick coffee, he discovered Harry wasn’t the only person there. At the sight of Bess and Regina sitting side by side at the table nearest the door, he stopped so fast the coffee sloshed over the edge of the cup. “Ow!” He winced and shook his hand.
The women looked at him.
He walked toward them, wanting to scold Bess Craig as if she were a child. He hoped Harry had wiped the table off for the women. “Morning, Miss Craig. Regina. What brings you two in here this time of day?” As if he couldn’t tell from the slate between them with A-E-I-O-U printed on it in capital letters.
Regina’s face positively glowed, in spite of the late night he knew she’d spent working. “Miss Craig is teaching me my letters. Ain’t that something?”
Gideon forced a smile. “It surely is, Regina.” He’d be glad for her if it weren’t happening in his saloon. Or his house.
Miss Craig looked the part of the schoolmarm, dressed in gray as usual, with a prim black bow at her throat, a wool shawl wrapped about her against the cool May morning, and her dark brown hair prudishly pulled back in a bun. She contrasted sharply with Regina, whose red hair curled past her shoulders and whose green plaid dress, though more modest than most of Margaret’s girls’ clothes, was low cut and trimmed with lace.
He lifted his coffee cup and met Bess’s defiant gaze over the cup’s rim. “Not baking today, Miss Craig?”
“Fed breakfast to most of the men in town. Most don’t sleep in as late as you do. There’s more bread rising. Bertie’s watching the oven to allow Miss Bently and me a little time together.”
He ignored the jibe at his sleeping habits. “I’ve something on my own stove I’d like to ask you about. Would you mind?” He waved toward the back room.
Bess frowned. “Now?”
“Hate to interrupt the lesson, but the pot is on the stove right this minute.”
As the door to the back room closed behind them, Bess looked around the area where Gideon stored inventory. “I don’t see a stove.”
Bess took a step toward it.
“Where Harry and I sleep,” Gideon expanded.
She stopped, her expression a mixture of curiosity and outrage.
“Don’t bother going in,” Gideon continued. “The only pot on my stove is filled with this awful stuff I call coffee.” He took a drink. Grimaced. “I asked you back here—”
“It sounded more like a demand.” Bess crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, one toe bouncing against the floorboards in an irritated rhythm.
What right had she to be angry when she’d invaded his saloon? He pointed toward the door separating them from the bar and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. “What are you thinking, coming in here with that woman?”
“Do you normally object to that woman’s presence here?”
He took a deep breath and counted to ten. It wasn’t high enough, but he spoke anyway. “Didn’t you understand a word I said the other night?”
“Yes. You forbade me to teach Regina in your house.”
“So—”
“This isn’t your house. It’s your place of business. She’s in here every night. How can you object to her presence here in the morning?”
He closed the space between them with two steps and brought his face close to hers. “You aren’t in here every night. That’s the point.”
“You’ll see me here every day from now on. I should think you’d be pleased.”
“Pleased?”
She shrugged. “You claim it will hurt my reputation if I allow Miss Bently into your home. If I teach her here, everyone will know our relationship is that of teacher and student. You’ll no longer need concern yourself for my reputation.”
“You’re determined to misunderstand me.”
“I don’t think I misunderstand at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, Miss Bently and I only have an hour for the lesson, and you’re using up precious minutes.”
She brushed past him, entered the saloon, and closed the door firmly behind her.
Gideon stalked through the curtains to the stove and added more thick coffee to his cup. For a moment, he considered partaking of something stronger, but he’d given up drinking almost a year ago. An ornery woman like Bess Craig wasn’t going to drive him back to it. He liked to keep his head about him, even if he did make a living helping others lose theirs.
It didn’t do his temper a bit of good to find four doughnuts on the bar when he returned to the saloon. “Miss Craig brought them,” Harry said, “for the use of the table. I said it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. I ate two already. They’re mighty good.”
Gideon grunted and walked to the other end of the bar, pretending to check the stock. He wouldn’t be bribed by Bess Craig’s baking. “Sweep the floor, Harry.”
He kept his resolve for all of ten minutes before grabbing one of the doughnuts. Just one, he told himself. But that doughnut was the best thing he’d eaten since he went to Cheyenne almost a year ago to celebrate the Fourth of July, so he helped himself to another and almost considered it a blessing the day the Craig sisters moved into town.
Twenty minutes later Doc Mitchel strolled in.
“First customer of the day, just like normal,” Harry whispered as he passed Gideon.
Only a few men came in before late afternoon, as a rule. “Least he didn’t sleep here last night,” Gideon whispered back.
Doc Mitchel didn’t walk directly to the bar as usual. He swerved to the table where Bess and Regina sat. Standing across from them, he tipped his hat. “Morning, ladies. Miss Craig, what a delightful surprise.”
Bess’s neck and cheeks colored, but she met the doctor’s gaze and nodded. “Doctor.”
Gideon froze, watching the encounter, listening for every word and nuance. He didn’t like the way Doc looked at Bess. A nasty expression had slipped over Doc’s face. Some might call it a smile, but Gideon knew better. He could see Regina did, too, from the way she cringed.
“Is the good Miss Craig teaching you letters, Regina?” Exaggerated innocence turned Doc’s tone syrupy.
Regina straightened her backbone but stared at her slate. “Yes, sir.”
“And what would you be teaching the good Miss Craig?” Doc raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Gideon set the bottle he was holding down harder than necessary, walked around the bar, and headed for the table. He’d known something like this would happen sooner or later. Now he knew how Ramon felt protecting Bertie. Gideon felt like growling himself. Instead, he groaned as three more men walked in, all of them stopping to stare at Bess, Regina, and Doc.
Doc leaned on the table and grinned. “Why don’t you show me, Regina? Or perhaps you’ll show me yourself, Miss Craig? Or do you go by Bessie now?”
Bess surged to her feet. “Mr. Mitchel, I demand an apology. For myself and Miss Bently.”
“Apology?” Doc laughed. It turned into a guffaw by the time Gideon reached him. Gideon grabbed Doc’s jacket at the back of the neck. Doc’s laugh choked off. “What—? Gideon?”
“ ’Fraid you’re leaving here for the day, Doc.”
“But—”
“Before you leave, how about that apology?”
The three male spectators snickered. Gideon glared at them. The snickers stopped.
“But, Gideon—” Doc wailed.
“You apologize, and I’ll consider letting you come back tomorrow.”
“Course I’ll apologize. Meant to all along. Just teasing the ladies a mite.”
“Uh-huh. Let’s hear it.”
Doc wiggled. “If you’d just loosen your hold a bit—” Gideon let go.
Doc ran his fingers between his collar and his throat.
Gideon pulled Doc’s felt hat from his head and slapped it against Doc’s stomach. “The apology.”
Doc clutched the hat with both hands. “Uh, ladies—”
“They have names,” Gideon reminded.
“Uh, yes, Miss Craig. Regina.”
“Miss Bently,” Gideon suggested firmly.
“Uh, yes. Miss Bently. I’m sure you realize I was joking when I said … suggested … I realize my remarks were, um, tasteless. I’m sure two such fine ladies as yourselves will forgive me for my, um, breach of manners.”
“Apology acceptable?” Gideon looked from Bess to Regina.
Bess glared at Doc. Regina stared, openmouthed, but nodded.
Gideon ushered Doc toward the door past the again-snickering cowboys. “Don’t come back until tomorrow, Doc.”
“Can’t you send home a bottle with me? One little old bottle?”
“Try Cheyenne’s saloons.” He pushed Doc through the batwing doors and turned back to the saloon. He stopped, hands on his hips, in front of the three grinning cowboys. “You here for drinks, or will you be following Doc?”
“Drinks, just drinks.” One of the men held up his hands as though Gideon was robbing him. All three back-stepped toward the bar, watching Gideon the entire way.
Gideon walked back to the table, his heart still pumping wildly from his anger.
“Thank you,” Bess said, looking relieved.
Regina stood. “I’m sorry I caused trouble, Gideon.”
Bess gave her a shocked look. “Dr. Mitchel caused trouble, not you.”
Gideon exchanged glances with Regina. They understood each other. The saloon was their world, not Bess’s. “It’s all right, Reg … Miss Bently.” Her smile lit up the room.
All that for calling her Miss Bently? He never thought Margaret’s girls cared that they were called by their given names. He hadn’t even known Regina’s last name until he heard Bess use it.
Bess rested her hand on Regina’s sleeve. “Perhaps we should end the lesson for today. The hour’s almost up anyway.”
Regina nodded. “Thank you kindly, Miss Craig.”
Bess handed her the slate. “We’ll meet here tomorrow at the same time.” Regina glanced at Gideon.
Gideon
clamped his lips together and looked away. Bess Craig would never forgive him if he told Regina not to come back tomorrow morning. But he couldn’t clamp down his frustration at Bess Craig’s foolishness.
“All right, Miss Craig,” Regina agreed.
The doors swung behind her as she left. Gideon allowed himself to meet Bess’s gaze.
She was smiling. “You were quite wonderful, Mr. Riker.” He snorted. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”
“But—”
“If you think this won’t happen again with some other customer, you’re wrong.” Her smile died. Her face tightened into that rigid look he found so off-putting. Gideon sighed. “All right, I apologize for insulting you. But the warning stands.” She glared at him and left.
He marched back to the bar where Harry was serving the three men in time to overhear, “Imagine one of Margaret’s girls thinkin’ she can learn to read.”
Gideon glared at the cowboy. “You jealous ’cause you can’t read?”
“Uh, no.” The cowboy finished off his drink in one gulp and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Let’s go, boys.”
Gideon watched them leave. Those women were costing him business. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
Chapter 8
The day hasn’t improved one iota, Gideon thought, listening to a retelling of the morning’s events by one of the men at the bar. Almost midnight and men were still laughing at Doc. Just so they didn’t laugh at Bess. A clatter broke through the laughter, music, and bottles clinking against glasses. It didn’t register for a moment, but it went on and on and, suddenly, Gideon recognized the sound. The lunch triangle at the house! Fear shot through him.
He took off running. A crash resounded as the bottle he dropped hit the floor. He grabbed his rifle from behind the counter as he passed it and ran through the back room and out the back door. His chest ached with fright as he rounded the back porch of the house.
A lantern cast swinging shadows across the porch and yard. The cow stood on the porch, bawling. Bess was yelling and ringing the triangle.
Gideon heard a growl and slid to a stop so fast he fell down. He was up in a flash. His gaze searched for Ramon. He spotted the dog on the porch near the cow, growling, straining to get away from Bertie. “What’s going on?”
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 36
