“To a barn dance, Janelle?” Letty replied. “You go practically every month.”
“No,” Jenny corrected. “She means to see inside the Red Eye. I’ve heard her go on about it since the day we met. I keep telling her she’s not missing much.”
“That remains to be seen,” Janelle replied with an excited grin.
“Oh, look,” Jenny said as Wisteria drew the buggy to a halt in front of the house. “George is home. I was hoping if he was available he wouldn’t mind tagging along.”
“Excellent idea,” Letty said with a nod. “We’ve got strength in numbers, add George’s brute strength, my Schofield and Wisteria’s Colt, and we’ll be right as rain. I assume you are armed, my dear?”
“Naturally,” Wisteria replied with a nonchalant pat of her leg.
When asked, George immediately saddled his horse and was ready to ride, prepared to do what was necessary to protect the ladies he’d come to know and love like family. Mrs. Gleason and Sarah, who were in the middle of baking cookies, both jumped at the chance to help out by taking Micah earlier than planned.
A glass shattering made her jump, and she was instantly brought back to the present. When she looked around the bar area, she noticed a tall, very good-looking man, marred only by his intense glare, had risen from his seat and was making his way—stalking was a better choice of words—toward them. Wisteria studied him as he crossed the crowded saloon. Not as ruggedly handsome as Luke or his brothers, he had icy blue eyes, not a warm cocoa brown that made her legs go rubbery, and he didn’t have the infectious quicksilver smile, or the raw masculine appeal her husband possessed. He was more classically handsome with features that could almost be called pretty.
“See here, ladies,” he called, his smooth as silk voice carrying easily in the bar that had fallen silent the moment the four of them had stepped foot inside. He was dressed in shirtsleeves and an intricately embroidered vest; Wisteria noticed the quality of the cloth spoke of wealth far beyond the level of most of the other patrons, which included mostly cowboys in faded broadcloth jeans and dungarees, a few men from town in ill-fitting suits, and others who looked like they were fresh off the trail in their buckskins and flannel. As he started wending his way around the tables and patrons in order to reach them, she decided this must be the owner her sister-in-law had spoken of.
“That’s Fenton Sneed,” Jenny confirmed in a whisper. “I was hoping he would be otherwise occupied. He’s loud and coarse, not a very nice man at all in my experience.”
He was upon them and heard her last words. “You!” he declared, pointing at Jenny. “I thought I threw you out on your ear ages ago.”
Beside her, Jenny stiffened. “I left of my own accord, Mr. Sneed.” She said this calmly, though her face had turned a vivid scarlet.
His focus shifted to George. “Gleason, I know for a fact I fired your ass last summer. What are you doing back and bringing ladies of quality, are you mad?”
“George was kind enough to act as our escort and bodyguard,” Janelle finished for Jenny, who was clearly intimidated by the man. “Not that it’s your concern. This is a public establishment, I believe. We’ve business with Miz Charlotte and might even stick around to have a drink.”
“And you, I’ve seen you around town with the marshal. Hellfire, that’s all I need right now, trouble with the local marshal because his woman came slumming.” His gaze took in the rest of them, falling first to Letty, skimming over Jenny, until finally landing upon her. With a scowl, he barked, “Charlotte’s busy and it’ll be a cold day in Laramie when I serve four Jackson women a drink at my bar. Gleason, get them outta here.”
“You are quite rude, young man!” Letty declared in annoyance. “I didn’t expect offers of tea and ladyfingers in a place like this, but outright rudeness is never acceptable. What would your mother think?”
Noticeably taken aback, his eyes flew wide at the set down.
“That’s Mrs. Henry Jackson, Fenton.” The speaker, unmistakably female from her sultry, soft tone, was standing directly behind the large saloon owner, so Wisteria couldn’t be sure who she was, although her amusement was obvious. “Letty raised three rowdy boys into fine, upstanding, powerful men. I’d say she can take whatever you have to dish out and not wrinkle her brow or her fine walking dress as she does so.”
Wisteria bent sideways, peeking around the towering and quite agitated proprietor. “Miz Charlotte?” she inquired, certain from Jenny’s description that this woman was the one she’d come to meet, thank for her timely intervention and her inevitable rescue. Young and beautiful, Jenny had said, but Wisteria felt that to be understated. She had rich, glossy, mahogany hair piled artfully atop her head in a coiffure of loose springy curls, several left to hang in long spirals down her back. Her skin was creamy white and smooth, a testament to her moderate use of makeup, unlike the other women who were working in this place, or like Madame Josephine—Wisteria stopped that train of thought abruptly, shaking off that sudden image and refocusing on Charlotte. She seemed out of place, conservatively dressed for a saloon, or at least what she expected. Her jewel tone emerald green gown was eye-catching, it was true, but her bosom was nearly covered, leaving only a small amount of cleavage, unlike the other working girls whose bounteous breasts were practically hanging out.
“I am Charlotte,” she answered with a soft smile. “And you must be Wisteria. I heard you had violet eyes. I thought that was a silly rumor, but now that I see them, well, they are exquisite. I can see why you captured Luke Jackson’s eye. There were many crushed female hearts in Laramie the day you corralled the last available Jackson brother. Congratulations on that coupe, my dear.” Her sparkling gaze encompassed the women before her. “Seeing you all together, I have to say, Mrs. Jackson, your boys have superb taste, as does your husband, of course.”
“Well, thank you kindly, Miz Charlotte,” Letty beamed while inclining her head.
“What the hell is this? A Sunday sewing circle?” Fenton growled. “You women have to go. Now. You’re making my customers nervous, not to mention me.”
Letty sent him a withering glare, then turned to Charlotte. “How do you put up with this man, dear? You seem so much more, well—” She frowned, evidently searching for the right word considering the circumstances. “Refined,” she declared at last. “While he’s about as charming as a bell clapper in a goose’s hind end.”
The girls tried to stifle their amusement, while Charlotte laughed outright at Fenton’s expense.
“That’s it. Out. You’ve seen enough, talked enough, and I for damn sure have had enough.” He turned to Charlotte. “Get these women out of here before I show them precisely how unrefined I can be.”
She nodded, extending her hand toward the door. “He’s right in one respect, ladies, you make him nervous. Reputable women tend to do that.” His growl came low in his throat, but she patted his arm familiarly as she passed, doing as he bade. “Ladies, shall we step outside to finish our conversation?’
Wisteria and Jenny, who had seen enough of the inside of a saloon to last a lifetime, turned and moved to the door.
Janelle on the other hand protested. “But I haven’t had a chance to look around,”
Letty, knowing full well she’d done enough to poke the angry bear that was Fenton Sneed, grabbed her arm and tugged her along. “Let’s not overstay our welcome, Janelle.”
“You mean we risked our husbands’ wrath to come here and only get to stand in the doorway? I had hopes of bellying up to the bar and having a whiskey with Miss Kitty like at the Long Branch Saloon, well, except in this case it’d be Miz Charlotte and the Red Eye.”
“You can have a sarsaparilla at the barn dance, later.” Letty said, redoubling her efforts to get her distracted daughter-in-law to move along.
“That’s not the point,” she grumbled. “Besides, I don’t even know what that is.”
“Janelle!” Letty warned, using her best stern mother’s tone. “If you’re so worried about Aar
on’s wrath, it’s best not to loiter.”
“Okay, fine,” she finally agreed, stepping more lively, although still craning her neck around, trying to take it all in as she did so.
They had all exited through the swinging hinged door when the first in line came to a sudden halt and—bang, bang, bang, one after the other—they slammed into the back of the woman ahead of them. Wisteria, at the back and the smallest, rebounded backward into Charlotte, who caught her and kept her from landing on the dirty boot-scuffed floor.
“Leticia Jackson! When I’m through there won’t be enough of that aloe plant to ease the blisters on your tail.”
“That goes double for you, Janelle.”
“I’d have thought you’d had enough of this place when the Parsons twins had a bar brawl over you, Jennifer Lynn.”
Jenny was the first to reply. “Yes, but Heath, we brought George along for protection.”
“To a Sixth Street saloon? What in the name of all that’s holy were you girls thinking?” Henry demanded.
Luke added with deceptive calm, “I’d like an answer to that myself, Wisteria Rose.” Tacking on her middle name, as his pa did with his ma, was a clear sign she was in big trouble.
She tried her best to explain. “I had to come and pay my respects, Luke, and thank Charlotte for what she did.”
“It was nothing, honey,” the beautiful madame deferentially replied. “Folks may look down at me and my girls for what we do, but at least my girls have some say. To drug someone against their will and sell them like cattle…” She shook her head vehemently. “No. I’ll not abide by that.”
Wisteria turned to her. “I can’t ever thank you enough. You saved me.”
“And me!” Jenny shared.
“And we are ever so grateful that you did,” Letty added. “You have an ally in the Jackson women, Charlotte, for a lifetime.”
“And the men,” Janelle finished, her elbow digging into Aaron’s side when he didn’t immediately agree.
He grunted, his frown deepening as he glared down at her. “I already offered my thanks, Janelle, and I’ll thank you to keep your elbows to yourself. They’re sharp.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I saw that, sweet pea. Keep piling it on.”
Charlotte laughed delightedly. “I appreciate the gesture, ladies, but I don’t want to be responsible for any strife amongst you. Next time, a thank-you note will do.”
“There better not be a next time!” all four Jackson men said in unison.
* * *
Smiling, she watched as the ladies were led away by their men, waving to her as they went like she wasn’t a harlot unsuitable for association with and frowned upon by decent society folks. It faded into a slight frown as she thought of how different her life could have been, if only—
“Charlotte?” Fenton called to her softly as he came up behind her. Proof he could modulate his tone when the situation warranted. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, not turning to him until Luke Jackson’s buggy—which had brought up the rear of the small parade of family vehicles—made the left onto Garfield and was out of sight. When she did so, she gazed up at the man who had been her boss and subsequently her lover for the past ten years. Rough, crude, and uncouth, as Letty had said, yet handsome as sin. He wasn’t faithful, not by a long shot, but in his own way, he loved her. And, he had been there for her when no other man in her past had been.
“I’m fine, Fen. They’re an interesting lot.”
“You wish their lot was yours, though, don’t you, Lottie?”
“I’ve told you before, this wasn’t a life I would have chosen. The last few years, being in charge and not having to earn my keep upstairs, has made my lot in life better. I’m resigned to the hand I’ve been dealt.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t change the past.” His arm slid around her waist as he pulled her in, curling her soft body into the front of his tall, hard frame. Her head tipped instinctively backward to look up at him. “I’m also glad you’re not upstairs. That means I have all of this beauty to myself.” He bent his head and kissed her neck. A familiar twinge of pain flared in her chest that her beauty alone wasn’t enough for him, but she tamped it down, pushing it back to a corner of her mind. Although she asked herself, as she often did, if after the life she’d led, did she really deserve more than what she’d gotten?
A resounding no was her answer.
“Are you that unhappy, Lottie?” She hadn’t realized until then that he’d been watching her.
“I’m content, Fen. And for a woman like me, that’s all I really can expect.” She stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “We’ll leave happiness and respectability to the Jackson clan. How ‘bout it?”
He nodded, but looked unconvinced.
“Cook made a beef roast for supper with chocolate cake for dessert. How about we have dinner in my suite before the heavy crowds start coming in?”
“Sounds good.” At the door, he paused. “I wish I could have made it different for you, darlin’.”
She smiled wistfully. “Thank you, Fen. That’s enough for me. That and chocolate cake.” With their arms around each other, they entered the Red Eye to the tune of an off-key version of “Oh! Susanna.”
“We’ve got to find a new piano player,” Fenton said as he cringed.
Charlotte laughed. “The redhead you tossed out on her ear ages ago was the best one we ever had, honey.”
“Don’t I know it! Too bad all of them Jackson women ain’t nothin’ but trouble.”
Epilogue
Aaron set the brake and jumped down. Circling around the buggy, he reached up for his extremely disgruntled wife.
“I’m not in the mood to dance anymore,” Janelle said with a pout. “I want to go home.”
“It’s the last barn dance of the season. The snows will be here before we know it as will the frigid temperatures, so we should enjoy it. Besides, next summer we’ll have a little one to care for and we might not be able to get away as often.”
“You spanked me at the jailhouse,” she accused. “Again!”
He cocked his head to one side, gazing up at her with patience built on three years of living with a very spirited and often impulsive young wife, and calmly inquired, “Did you think you wouldn’t be over my knee when I discovered where you went today?”
“I hoped…”
“You hoped I wouldn’t find out.”
She nodded with a sniffle, not meeting his gaze.
“Darlin’, after all this time, you should have known better.” He put his large hand on her knee and squeezed. “You got a look inside the Red Eye at long last. Was it worth it?”
Shifting on the hard bench seat to ease the sting and burn, she shook her head and grumbled, “Heck, no. I didn’t get much beyond the door before your mother dragged me out.”
“Good for her, I’ll have to thank her, tomorrow.”
“Why not tonight?”
“Pa was taking her home for a discussion.”
Janelle swallowed, having no question of what a discussion meant to a Jackson man. “Will you still be taking me over your knee in forty years when I’m a grandmother?”
“If you’re still intent on visiting saloons, damn straight I will.”
“Take me home.”
“Nope.” He gripped her waist and swung her down.
“Aaron!”
“Think of it this way.” His fingers were gently insistent as he lifted her face up to his, his words soft to ensure they reached her ears only. “If you’re dancing, you’re not bumping along on a hard bench seat on a pothole-ridden road with a tender backside.” He lowered his head, hovering above her mouth, their breath mingling as he finished. “You’ll thank me for it later, sweet pea. Besides, I’d like to hold my wife close for a waltz during the last dance of the season.”
“No fair.”
“What, the spanking?” He sighed, resting his forehead upon hers, having been over this with
her before. “Janelle—”
“No, not that.”
“What then?”
“All you have to do is whisper honeyed words and call me sweet pea and I’m putty, goo, toast!”
His lips tipped up in amusement before lowering the slightest bit needed to take her mouth in a brief, yet heated kiss. When he raised his head, he asked in a soft, low, heart-melting voice, “Is that such a bad thing?”
Visibly muddled, as she often got when his hands and lips were on her, she gave up fighting it, having said often she wasn’t sure why she ever tried. She slipped her arms around his back, stood up on her toes, reaching for more of his lips. “You’re everything to me, Aaron, and you’re right, I knew you’d find out and when you did what would happen. But, Wisteria needed me. I’ve been in her situation; in a new town, a new marriage, and after surviving a truly awful experience, she felt compelled to do something. I understood that and went along for support, knowing I risked your anger, but would be forgiven and in the end be right where I stand at this moment. In your strong arms, with your warm, delicious mouth pressed to mine.”
“You got yourself a glimpse at the Red Eye in the meantime, yes? Did it satisfy your long-burning curiosity?”
“Yes, and I’m here to tell you that Miss Kitty and the Long Branch Saloon ain’t got nothing over Miz Charlotte and the Red Eye.” He chuckled and she grinned, adding more seriously, “I was serious when I said I was putty in your hands, honey. I know it, you know it. It’s been that way since I looked up into your gorgeous brown eyes from Doc’s examination table. So, no, Aaron, it isn’t such a bad thing, not by a long shot, as long as you love me.”
“Always, darlin’, I’ll love you unconditionally and as long as there is breath in my body.” He reclaimed her lips, crushing her to him as his tongue robbed the breath from hers.
* * *
Heath parked their buggy next to Aaron’s, chuckling as neither he nor Janelle noticed or broke from the smoldering kiss they shared, completely oblivious not only to their arrival, but to the steady stream of townsfolk driving and walking by.
Wild Wisteria Page 27
