“We been putting it off,” Fiona said, “but the bowl is full, plus we need our pay. You’re plenty smart, Mrs. Carter. Can you help us?”
“Yes, I can, until Miss Adele’s niece arrives.” She desperately hoped that situation would work out well in the end. Will had told her Rebecca Hamilton had no idea what she was in for. But she’d claimed in her letter to be good with numbers, at least.
After practically suffocating her with relieved gratitude, the chickens scattered and Eliza Jane got to work. While she wouldn’t go so far as to say she enjoyed arithmetic, she did like exercising her mind.
And though she certainly wasn’t an expert in the financial affairs of houses of ill-repute, the percentages the girls received seemed more than fair. Eliza Jane also found the accounts the Chicken Coop maintained with other businesses and dug in, losing herself in the numbers.
When she finally looked up from the ledger, rubbing the back of her stiffening neck, she saw Will. He was leaning against the kitchen doorjamb, watching her.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to think it’s time you head to my office for a special examination,” he said with a suggestive raising of his eyebrows.
Eliza Jane laughed and pushed the ledger off to one side. “I had no idea you felt that way about arithmetic.”
“I happen to find smart women sexy as hell, plus you chew on your bottom lip when you’re thinking. As the town doctor, I feel it’s my sworn duty to kiss that better for you.”
“Doc, is that you?” they heard Sadie call. “You’re late!”
It was Eliza Jane’s turn to raise an eyebrow, but there was nothing suggestive about it. “It sounds as though you already have an examination scheduled, Doctor.”
“Jealous, darlin’?” She was, but she wasn’t about it admit it. “Holly has a sliver near her shoulder blade, and they’re all too squeamish to pull it out for her.”
“How on earth did she get a sliver there?”
Will grinned. “I can demonstrate for you later, if you like. I’ll just need you naked and a wood-paneled wall.”
Warmth seeped through Eliza Jane as she imagined just how a man, a naked woman and a wall could lead to a sliver in her back. “Oh my.”
“I do like when you say that—gets me all riled up. I bet you’ve never made love in a whorehouse, have you?”
Her cheeks flamed just at the thought. “Not nearly as many times as you have, Will Martinson. Now I have bookkeeping to finish and you have a sliver to pull. If you should see Fiona, send her to me, please.”
Will pushed himself off the doorjamb. “I will, but as soon as you’re done here, you stop by my office for that examination.”
“Is Mrs. Carter sick?” Fiona asked from behind him, and Eliza Jane wanted to hide her face in her hands. “I’m sorry I asked you to see to the books if you’re feeling poorly.”
“She’s just fine,” Will assured her. “She’s just suffering from a persistent itch she can’t seem to scratch.”
Eliza Jane almost choked on her sharp intake of breath. The audacity of the man!
But her indignation didn’t keep her from dwelling on that itch the entire time she was helping Fiona count the money into the appropriately sized piles. After promising to spare a few minutes for the financial chore each day until Rebecca arrived, Eliza Jane practically ran out of the Chicken Coop.
Will was sitting at his desk writing in his journal when she walked in, slightly out of breath from her quick step down the sidewalk. Since the office appeared to be empty otherwise, she locked the door behind her.
“I can’t believe you told Fiona about…itching and scratching,” she said, hands on her hips.
He closed his book and set it aside. “Darlin’, there ain’t a damn thing I can tell that woman about scratching an itch she don’t already know.”
“She doesn’t know about my itching.”
Will leaned back in his chair and grinned up at her. “No, but the chickens have scratched a few of mine in the past, and I reckon it hasn’t escaped their notice I haven’t been to the Coop since you stepped off that stage. Except for doctorin’, of course.”
Eliza Jane decided to ignore the in the past part and focus on the present. “Are you planning to examine me from that chair, Doctor?”
“As a matter of fact I am, darlin’. Why don’t you step out of your drawers and come over here?”
A shiver tickled her spine. How could a man with such a slow, lazy grin be so intense at the same time? “Just my drawers?”
“Yes, ma’am. And since the curtains are drawn and the door’s locked, don’t be shy about it.”
That didn’t really matter as she was able to shimmy out of her undergarments without lifting her skirts too high. But she could tell by Will’s expression they were about to do something she wouldn’t want all of Gardiner watching.
“Tell me, Eliza Jane, have you ever ridden a horse astride?”
What an odd question, especially considering the circumstances. “Rarely, but yes, on occasion in a relatively private setting.”
“Good. Come here, darlin’.” He held out his hand, and she took it, quite unsure of what was expected of her.
When she was standing directly in front of his chair, Will released her hand and gathered up the front of her skirt so he could reach behind her knees and pull her forward until she straddled his lap.
She gasped when her more sensitive body parts rubbed up against his denim-clad erection. “Will, what are you doing?”
“Enjoying myself, darlin’. See, I’ve had this particular fantasy in which I’m sitting here doing some book work when that damn women’s libber comes in and distracts me by proving a woman can be on top just as well as a man.”
And then he reached down between their bodies to unbutton his pants. She gasped when he slid into her and she instinctively rocked, taking him deeper with each downward thrust.
Will kept one hand on her hip but used the other to grab the back of her neck and pull her head down so he could kiss her. Their breath mingled as she moved her body over his.
“That’s right, darlin’. Just like riding a horse.”
She smiled and rotated her hips in a small circle, making him moan. “Giddy up, Doc.”
He lifted her hips and pushed them down again, over and over until she bit into his shirt to keep from screaming his name and he groaned as he spilled himself into her.
The chair creaked as they both went limp, and Eliza Jane hoped it held out long enough for her to get the strength back in her legs.
“Damnation, woman, you’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered against her cheek. “But in my professional opinion, we should definitely schedule you for a follow-up examination.”
“Whatever you say, Doctor.”
A week later, the day of the town social dawned much the same as every other day in Gardiner, Texas. Scorching hot and dry as a drunk’s mouth the morning after. But as Will made his way toward the restaurant for some breakfast, he could feel the air of anticipation running through the town.
Today was the day Sheriff Adam Caldwell was going to step out with Beth Ann Barnes, and Lucy Barnes had made sure the entire town knew it. No doubt the smitten Joey Keezer had heard it, too.
Tom Dunbarton from over at the Mercantile was running a wager pool on how long it would be before somebody got shot. Will had put a half-dollar on two and a half hours.
As he drew near the Chicken Coop, he noticed Sadie out tending the flower pots. She was dressed in a simple flowered dress and her face wasn’t all done up. While it was understood they wouldn’t participate in the dancing except with one another, even the chickens turned out for the social.
“Mornin’, Sadie,” Will said, tipping his hat when she looked up.
“Hello there, Doc.” She finished pinching off a dead blossom and stood. “Fine day, isn’t it?”
“It is. You’re all faring well, I hope?”
“As well as can be
expected, I reckon. We sure do miss Miss Adele something fierce, and it’ll be nice when Miss Rebecca comes.”
“She’ll be along. I sent a few telegrams out to the stations so she won’t arrive expecting her aunt to meet her.” He felt the familiar pang of loss, but it was easing a little because he focused on how full a life the madam had led and how she’d faced death on her own terms. He sorely wished she could have held on to see her niece, but he also knew the pain had been about as bad as she could stand toward the end.
“Miss Carter’s been real kind to keep the books in the meantime,” Sadie said when the silence dragged on. “Ain’t none of us got a head for numbers.”
“That’s real nice. And how have you been feeling?”
“Just fine, Doc. I can hardly even tell I got a baby in me.” But she rubbed her hand protectively over her stomach just the same. “Dan offered to marry me.”
That he hadn’t known, so it must have been a recent development. “Dan O’Brien, from over to the hotel?”
“Yeah. He’s always been a particularly regular customer of mine. He’s sweet on me, you see. And he’s got it in his head this child might be his.”
But it also might not be. “Are you considering his offer?”
“A fine businessman like that don’t need to go marryin’ a whore.” She tried for a devil-may-care expression, but Will saw the sadness in her eyes. “Besides, Mrs. Barnes would see to it he got run out of town if he did such a thing.”
Seeing Sadie happily married and a good mother to her child would have made Miss Adele a happy woman. And he himself wished the best for her, too. “Lucy Barnes ain’t the only opinion in town, Sadie. And I reckon Dan considered all that before he proposed. If he’s willing to offer, there ain’t no good reason why you shouldn’t accept.”
She only shrugged, so he pressed on. “If he’s that much of a regular, you know the kind of man he is, and you already told me he’s sweet on you. Look at you blush, sweetheart. Are you a little sweet on him, too?”
“I wouldn’t mind marrying Dan,” she admitted, rolling the dead flower between her palms. “But he wouldn’t be able to hold his head up in town for long, and the time would come he’d hate me for it.”
He had to agree that was a strong possibility. “Maybe you could leave Gardiner. Go someplace new where you’d just be Mr. and Mrs. Daniel O’Brien and you could raise your baby together.”
Sadie shook her head, the picture of sorrow and regret. “He sets great store by that hotel, as he should. It’s a fine place and I can’t ask him to give that up. I ain’t worth that.”
He put his finger under her chin and tipped her face up. “Don’t you ever say that to me again, Sadie. You’re beautiful and kind and you’ve managed to take care of yourself in a world that dealt you some hard knocks. You deserve some happiness.”
She shrugged, and then changed the subject. “You escortin’ Mrs. Carter to the social, Doc?”
Unfortunately it was a sore subject. “No, I’m not. She said she’d go alone and she might save me a dance.”
Sadie shook her head. “You know she’s just trying to save trouble for you. There’s still some people that don’t like her, and they especially don’t like her spending all that time here at the Coop lately. But there ain’t no other men turning her head, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He wasn’t worried, exactly. It was a just a matter of the natural progression of their relationship. He felt it was time they step out in public and make their courtship known. Of course, they were a little further in the progression seeing as how they’d skipped ahead to the lovemaking, but they didn’t have to make that known.
“I need to go help Holly with her hair now,” Sadie said. “But I’ll see you later at the social.”
The social would start in the afternoon, giving the men time to see to their chores and the women time to see to their hair and finish their pies. Will and Adam volunteered every year for the pie-judging contest. When there was a ribbon at stake, the ladies could turn out some mighty fine baked goods.
There would be games for the young’uns and horse racing. Ugly as he was, Adam’s horse was always favored to win and he usually did if his rider wasn’t off shooting somebody. Then there would be a potluck dinner and music and dancing. If enough cowboys came in from neighboring spreads, there’d be some bare-knuckle brawling, too.
Hell, maybe they wouldn’t even need the cowboys for that. With Adam, Eliza Jane, mourning chickens, and a gloating Lucy Barnes with her Bible Brigade all in one place, the brawling might see to itself.
He tipped his hat to Sadie as she went inside, and then continued walking, his mind still on Eliza Jane. Whether she showed up on his arm or not, he planned to make his intentions toward her very plain today. The people of Gardiner needed to start coming to terms with the fact their doctor was getting sweet on the damn women’s libber.
Chapter Twelve
It was a good plan, but harder to set in motion than he’d anticipated. Will didn’t see Eliza Jane at all for hours, and then, when he did, it was always from a distance. It seemed she was always talking to somebody or helping somebody set up tables. Carrying food.
And just when it appeared he’d get a chance to talk to her, somebody would waylay him, wanting to talk about the weather, the horse racing or their various aches and pains.
It wasn’t until they were setting up for the pie judging contest he finally managed to pull her aside. “Are you avoiding me, darlin’?”
“Of course not. I’m very busy, and I really need to get my apple pie out to the table.”
He tried not to look or sound as shocked as he felt. “You entered a pie?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” she snapped. “I thought it might help me become more welcome in certain circles if I engage in a more womanly activity and Marguerite let me borrow her oven.”
“No offense, darlin’, but you don’t strike me as the baking kind.”
“I’m not, but I felt compelled to make the effort.” She smiled ever-so-sweetly at him. “And you’re one of the judges.”
“Eliza Jane Carter, are you implying I’ll cheat just because my boots have spent the night under your bed?”
“Never. But while you’re taking a bite of my pie, you probably won’t be able to help recalling there are womanly activities I am good at.”
Will laughed, and wished he could kiss her right then and there. “You are a schemer, Eliza Jane Carter. But you’re probably right, since I can’t help recalling that fact every minute of the day as it is.”
But fifteen minutes later, lovemaking was the furthest thing from his mind. He’d survived treating deadly and contagious diseases, the war between the states and being branded a traitor by his friends and family, but he didn’t think he had it in him to survive his first bite of Eliza Jane’s apple pie.
He forced himself to keep chewing. Her crust was about as tender and flaky as a dried-up chicken bone and gritted between his teeth. Something crunched against his back molars even as his cheeks started sucking in at the tartness. The woman might be generous in her lovemaking, but she was stingy as hell with the sugar.
He noticed Adam getting to his feet next to him, and for a second wondered if the fearless sheriff was actually fleeing from Eliza Jane’s pie.
But he wasn’t. Despite agonized taste buds and watery eyes, Will noticed the commotion over by the display of quilts. He took a gulp of milk before he stood, hoping it would soften the mass in his mouth enough so he could swallow before he had to speak. Eliza Jane wouldn’t take kindly to his spitting her pie into the dirt.
A brawl was definitely brewing. Will listened to a half-dozen shouting people trying to explain the situation all at once. It seemed one of the chickens had hung a knitted blanket—at least it seemed to be a blanket—along with the other quilts.
Apparently the blanket was Sadie’s and the quilt was Beth Ann’s and the blanket was deemed unfit to be keeping company with the quilt.
Whether that was due to Sadie’s being a whore or the fact Adam’s horse could likely knit a prettier stitch, Will couldn’t tell.
But the ladies of the Chicken Coop and the ladies of the First (and only) Gardiner Church had started exchanging words. Dan O’Brien had rushed to Sadie’s defense, causing Lucy Barnes to practically pick up her scrawny, henpecked husband and toss him into the mix.
Now the tall and gangly Dan O’Brien and the short, yet still fairly gangly, Brent Barnes were faced off, looking like a battle of bobbing Adam’s apples.
“Shut up!” Adam roared, and the whole town fell silent. Even the hogs penned up for the greased pig event later stopped their squealing.
“You all squawk more than a pen full of chickens,” he said, but then he turned to the four whores gathered together. “No offense, ladies.”
Fiona gave him a saucy wink, but Sadie looked close to tears. Will was unfortunately still chewing, and so was unable to offer any words of comfort.
“You people interrupted the pie judging,” Adam informed them, and since he didn’t sound too happy about it, Will assumed he hadn’t actually taken a bite of Eliza Jane’s pie yet. “Now, what we have here is a town social. Not the town brawl or the town brouhaha. So you all go on and be social now, dammit.”
“Sadie’s got a right to display her wares,” Dan O’Brien said, and Will admired the man’s gumption. He must have been more than a little sweet on Sadie to talk back to the sheriff like that.
“Her wares ain’t fit for decent society,” Brent Barnes responded with a sneer.
Will could see Adam’s right hand starting to twitch, so he swallowed the sour lump of pie, hoping he didn’t choke. He’d barely gotten it down when Dan worked up the nerve to take a swing.
“I aim to marry her!” The man plowed his fist into Brent’s face. Unfortunately he had the body weight of a sun-starved sapling and the other man only took one staggering step before striking back.
Taming Eliza Jane Page 12
