Cowboys 08 - Luke

by Leigh Greenwood

  "But how did you know what to do?" Valeria asked.

  "What's there to know?" Mrs. Brightman asked. "All a man wants is a soft bed with clean sheets and a good dinner. As long as you can supply that, you'll have boarders lining up at your door. Come to think of it, that's a pretty good formula for keeping a husband, too."

  Valeria wondered what it would take to keep Luke happy. He appeared to be satisfied with food cooked over a campfire and a bedroll spread on the ground. What else would such a man want?

  A woman.

  Valeria felt herself blush. She never used to think about the physical side of marriage, but being around Luke had changed that. Just being near him, just looking at him, caused her to have hot and cold flashes, to feel unfamiliar stirrings deep in her belly. She was uncomfortably aware of his body, his arms, his legs, his rear. This was no polite or casual awareness. It was hot, intense, and kept her watching him long after she knew she should turn away.

  She knew men placed great importance on their physical relationships with women, but no one ever explained why it was so important for men and not for women. Valeria wondered if it might not be the same with some females. If so, the way she reacted around Luke made her wonder if she might not be one of those females.

  "Do you ever feel afraid, being here by yourself?" Valeria asked.

  She had never been alone. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be responsible for running a boardinghouse, preparing the meals, and taking care of two daughters.

  "Goodness, no," Mrs. Brightman replied. "If any boarder gets unruly, I tell him to leave."

  "Suppose he doesn't want to leave?"

  "The business end of my shotgun would take care of that."

  "Mama shot a bear last winter," one of the daughters said.

  "And a prospector last summer," the other added.

  "He was trying to get one of my girls around the corner," Mrs. Brightman said, "and I couldn't have that."

  Valeria felt a bubble of happiness forming inside her. Listening to Mrs. Brightman and her daughters made her want to laugh. She couldn't explain it, but just being in the same room with them made her feel better.

  "Are you looking for a husband?" she asked Mrs. Brightman.

  "No."

  "Would you marry again if somebody asked you?"

  Satisfied her stew was up to her standards, Mrs. Brightman tasted a pot of beans. "Maybe," she said. She added some pepper and covered the pot again. "He'd have to be pretty persuasive though. I'm used to doing things my way. I'm not sure I like the idea of changing to please some man. He'd have to go a long way toward making it worth my while."

  "How would he do that?"

  Mrs. Brightman looked straight at Valeria. "You don't know?"

  "Luke will tell you princesses are useless, that we live off the efforts of others. I guess that's true. I know how to dress, how to behave at parties, how to talk to men, but I don't know much beyond that." Valeria remembered the way she felt when she was around Luke. "Do you mean the physical relationship between a man and a woman?"

  Mrs. Brightman smiled. "You know more than you give yourself credit for."

  "My aunt said women aren't supposed to like that."

  "Maybe you aunt didn't, but I know a lot of women who like it very much." She turned back to her pots. "Sometimes it's all that makes it worth putting up with a man."

  A thousand questions flooded Valeria's mind, but she didn't even know how to ask them. "I wouldn't know about that," she said.

  "Well, I can't talk about it now, not with long ears listening," Mrs. Brightman said, nodding in the direction of her daughters.

  "We know all about boys, Mama," one of the girls said.

  "You'd better not know too much."

  "We don't have time to get into trouble if we wanted to," the other twin complained. "There's always beds to make, sheets to wash-"

  "Dinners to fix and clean up after," finished her sister.

  "Do you want to have a boardinghouse when you grow up?" Valeria asked.

  "No!" the twins answered in unison.

  "I want to sing and dance on a stage in front of a lot of people," one said.

  "I want to marry a rich man and have lots of jewels and furs," the other said.

  "I've had the jewels and furs," Valeria said. "It's not as much fun as you might think."

  "Tell us about it."

  "You'd better pay attention to your work, or you'll spend your evening scrubbing burned food off the bottom of those pots," their mother said.

  They had none of the hundreds of things Valeria had grown up thinking essential. But Valeria could tell that in spite of the large amount of work that needed doing, Mrs. Brightman and her daughters were quite happy.

  Valeria was not.

  "You feel up to taking dinner with the boarders?" Mrs. Brightman asked Valeria.

  Valeria almost said she'd rather eat in her room when she realized that would be a lot more work for Mrs. Brightman and her girls. "Of course."

  "You sure you can sit down?"

  "I'll try if you promise not to let Luke toss me into a saddle first thing in the morning." She hated to appear weak, but this was the first time she'd been remotely comfortable since leaving Bonner.

  Valeria knew she needed time to let her chafed skin heal before she got in the saddle again, but she also wanted time to study Mrs. Brightman. This woman had been a wife, was a mother capable of running a boardinghouse patronized entirely by men. This was the kind of woman Valeria wanted to be. Then maybe Luke wouldn't despise her.

  "Time to take up," Mrs. Brightman announced. "Ring the dinner bell." One of the twins ran out of the room. Moments later the sound of a loudly rung bell sounded through the house.

  "That man is back," the twin announced when she returned. "Did you set a place for him?"

  "What man?" her mother asked.

  "The man who brought her," she said, pointing to Valeria.

  Valeria felt herself stand a little taller. She no longer felt quite so tired or so unsure of herself. Luke had come back. He must be concerned about her.

  She longed to check her looks in a mirror, but it would depress her spirits. She lacked the clothes, jewels, and beautifully arranged hair she'd always depended on to make herself attractive. She had the plain, brown dress Luke had bought her and a pendant necklace she never took off. She had brushed her near-black hair back and tied it with a ribbon. Elvira probably wouldn't recognize her.

  Her spirits plunged, then lifted slightly. Because she had none of those things, she had nothing to remind Luke she was a princess. Maybe he could see her as she was, as a woman.

  Her spirits plunged again. If she just a woman, she was useless. She didn't know how to do the things Mrs. Brightman's daughters could do without thinking. She had no idea how to make a biscuit, keep vegetables from burning, or season a stew.

  "I know who he's come to see," Mrs. Brightman said and winked at Valeria.

  Valeria didn't misinterpret that look. "He's worried about his reputation. He's probably come to find out how long before I'll be ready to ride again."

  "I know something about men," Mrs. Brightman said. "And Luke is interested in more than your bottom."

  They both realized what she'd said at the same time. Valeria blushed. Mrs. Brightman laughed.

  "That's not quite what I meant," she assured Valeria.

  "I know, but you're wrong. He despises me."

  "He does not!" Mrs. Brightman stated in a manner that brooked no contradiction. "He may not know it yet, but he likes you."

  "I'm quite sure you're wrong," Valeria said. "But if you aren't, you've got to promise to help me."

  "Do what?" Mrs. Brightman asked.

  "Help make him fall in love with me."

  Valeria was shocked by her words. How could she want anything so ridiculous, so absurd, so impossible? Had coming to American caused her brain to stop functioning altogether? She couldn't want to marry Luke. The idea was insane. She didn't even like h
im. He was ... he was ... he was the only man who made her feel alive, who caused her to think of him all the time, to weave endless scenarios by which he came to adore her. She didn't fully understand her feelings for him, but she knew they were powerful and true. She also knew that if Luke did fall in love with her, he'd love her for herself, not her money or her crown. That was the most wonderful feeling of all.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I haven't been sure of anything since I set foot in this

  country. But I am sure no man has ever caused me to feel the way Luke makes me feel."

  "How's that?" one of the twins asked.

  "You're too young to know," her mother said. "Take the vegetables into the dining room and keep a still tongue in your heads."

  "Have you considered what kind of man he is?" Mrs. Brightman asked after her daughters left the room. "He's a gunman, a professional killer."

  Valeria laughed, but the sound lacked humor. "That exactly describes the men in my family for the last five hundred years. How else do you think they managed to stay on the throne of a country that didn't want them?"

  Valeria didn't know what Luke had done to make Mrs. Brightman think he liked her, but she could see no sign of it. He sat directly across from her at the table, but he hardly glanced in her direction. Nor did he take part in the conversation. Since Mrs. Brightman and her daughters served the meal, it was left to her boarders and the men who paid for the privilege of taking their meals at her table to carry on the discussion.

  "Are you certain there's no immediate danger of war in Europe?" Bill Tierney asked. He sat at the head of the table and had been grilling Valeria about European politics ever since he discovered she came from Belgravia. She had begged Mrs. Brightman to introduce her as Valeria Badenberg. Mr. Tierney didn't appear to know it was the name of the exiled royal family.

  "You can never be certain about war," Valeria told him, "especially in the Balkans. Some of these people have hated each other for hundreds of years."

  She'd been subjected to endless political talk her entire life. There wasn't much about European politics in the last ten years she didn't know.

  "No one could hate you. You're much too pretty."

  That was Fred Dample, the man on her right. Valeria had been told he sold harnesses, but she wouldn't have bought anything from a man so given to flattery. She'd been subjected to it her entire life but hadn't realized until now just how much she disliked it.

  "Looks don't affect political decisions," she said.

  "You could have a real powerful influence on me."

  "Have some more stew, Fred," Mrs. Brightman said, forcing herself between Valeria and Fred Dample.

  "I have an acquaintance in Germany," Bill Tierney said. "He tells me Queen Victoria won't let anybody start a war."

  "Wars are most often started by a single person hungry for power," Valeria said, "or some madman willing to sacrifice his life for an ideal."

  "I wouldn't sacrifice my life for you," Fred said, laying his hand on Valeria's arm, "but you sure do make me hungry."

  "Then I suggest you get your hand off Miss Badenberg and eat your stew," Luke said.

  "It ain't a food kind of hunger," Fred said, glaring at Luke.

  "Food's a hell of a lot safer," Luke replied. "Now get your hand off the lady before I take it off for you." Valeria moved away from Fred. She didn't like him, she especially didn't like his touching her, but she hadn't expected Luke to threaten the man. It was nice to be on the right side of his temper for a change.

  "What's your interest here?" Fred demanded of Luke. "The lady is trying to discuss politics," Luke said, "and

  you're interrupting her."

  "Who cares about Europe?" Fred asked.

  A man down from Luke spoke up. "I do. I have family

  back in Poland. Every time there is a war in Europe, somebody attacks Poland."

  "Where the hell is Poland?" Fred demanded.

  "It used to be between Prussia and Russia," Valeria said. "But a hundred years ago Prussia, Russia, and Austria divided it up among themselves."

  "Then we don't have to talk about it anymore."

  "But that's exactly the kind of thing that can lead to war," Bill Tierney said. "People like the Poles will do a lot to get their own country back. I'm surprised the Austro-Hungarian Empire hasn't collapsed."

  "Nobody gives a damn about any of that," Fred said, "not in this country, anyway. We're worried about free silver."

  "It won't do you any good to worry about it," Luke said. "It'll be decided in Washington, not the Arizona Territory."

  "Why is free silver so important?" Valeria asked. If this was going to be her country, she needed to know about the important issues.

  "It's about whether the price of silver will stay high enough to keep the mines open," Fred said.

  Valeria soon lost interest in Fred's explanation of the problems with the gold and silver standard. She looked at Luke. When he smiled at her, her heart nearly turned over in her chest. She didn't know what she'd done to please him, but she was determined to find out so she could do it again. She made up her mind that if women in America were allowed to choose their husbands, she was going to choose Luke. She just didn't know how she was going to go about convincing him to choose her. He was the most hardheaded, stubborn, iron-willed man she'd ever met, absolutely determined to keep his distance.

  She would have to ask Mrs. Brightman how to attract a man like Luke. He wasn't like the men she'd known in Belgravia. She also had to learn how to be an independent woman. She had only one more day. She was certain Luke wouldn't stay here a minute after the doctor said she could travel.

  "A pretty girl like you has got to be bored by all this political talk," Fred said.

  "Not at all," Valeria said, ashamed she'd paid so little attention to their argument. "I want to learn everything I can about America."

  Fred's smile turned to a leer. "You've come to the right man, baby. I can teach you anything you want to know."

  "I don't think Miss Badenberg has come to you at all," Luke said, his voice low and deliberate. "And if you were half the gentleman you think yourself to be, you wouldn't refer to a lady as baby."

  "What are you, some sort of guard dog?" Fred burst out.

  "I'm.."

  "Well she don't need you baring your teeth as long as she's got me around. You hang with me, baby. I'll teach you things you never dreamed about."

  "You mean you'll take me inside a silver mine?" Valeria asked.

  Fred's laugh was positively lecherous. "The little lady has a liking for the dark. We can fix that right after dinner. There'll soon be plenty of dark outside."

  Valeria's eyes widened in disbelief, but there could be no question about it. Fred had put his hand on her leg.

  "What's wrong?" Luke asked, his body suddenly tense.

  Valeria was embarrassed and angry. She tried to push Fred's hand aside without letting anyone know, but she couldn't.

  "I thought you said you liked the dark," Fred said, a teasing tone in his voice.

  "You misunderstood me."

  "Valeria, what's wrong?" Luke said.

  "He has his hand on my leg," she said, still unable to push it aside.

  Suddenly glasses and dishes went flying across the room, spilling their contents on diners, the carpet, and the wall before crashing to the floor.

  Luke had thrown himself across the table at Fred, his hands around the man's throat.

  Chapter Twenty

  Valeria was too shocked to scream, but Mrs. Brightman's daughters filled the gap. Squealing and jumping about like they were perched atop a hot stove, they gleefully pointed fingers at the two men pummeling each other on the floor of their mother's normally quiet, always clean and neat dining room. If Valeria hadn't been too stunned to be aware of any but her own feelings, she'd have realized they were delighted with the fight.

  It didn't last long. In a short and brutal exchange, Luke pounded Fred's head against the floor until the m
an's eyes glazed over. Then he dragged Fred's limp, unprotesting body out of the room, down the hallway, through the doorway, and across the front porch. Luke tossed him into the street, closed the front door, and returned to the dining room.

  "Are you all right?" he asked Valeria.

  She was unable to utter a sound, so she nodded her head. She still couldn't get over the shock that he'd fought for her. She'd been surrounded by an army of men her whole life, but this wasn't a paid employee doing a job. Luke could have ordered Fred to remove his hand, could have pulled a gun on him. Instead his rage had caused him to fling himself across the table. Maybe Mrs. Brightman was right. Maybe Luke really did care for her.

  "Sorry for the ruckus, ma'am," Luke said to Mrs. Brightman, "but some men don't know how to behave around a lady. The food was mighty good. I'll be back in the morning to check on Valeria's progress." He paused briefly, seeming to become aware for the first time of the damage to Mrs. Brightman's table and crockery. "Add everything up, and I'll pay for it in the morning."