“The work will get done. It’s more important to take care of yourself than worry about a clean house or laundry. He’s little for such a short period of time. You don’t want to be so exhausted you miss it.”
“It sounds as if you’ve had some experience,” Rachel said, watching Patrick’s eyes flutter open.
Lena looked at her. “My closest friend has a young boy. I’ve been able to visit them many times.” She bit down on her lower lip, remembering how much Jackson grew between each visit. Her heart twisted at the memory. There were some things in life you couldn’t get back.
Gabe stood a few feet away, talking with Dax, listening to Lena at the same time. She appeared so content holding Patrick, letting him grasp her fingers as she rocked him. Not for the first time, he wondered if she’d ever wanted to settle down and have children of her own.
“Here you are.” Abby brought out a tray filled with cups of coffee and spice cake. “Rachel, I’m surprised you have even an extra minute to bake with this little man always wanting attention.”
“You learn to make time. Taking care of him and keeping the house in order are what take up most of each day. Ginny often rides over when Luke is working with Dax. She’s a huge help. And I have Lydia,” she said, referring to the oldest of the orphans. At almost twenty, Rachel wondered how much longer they’d have her before love and marriage took her away. “I don’t know what I’d do without her. She often watches Patrick when Ginny isn’t able to come over.”
Holding Patrick to her chest, Lena stood. Seeing Gabe look her way, she took a few steps to stand in front of him.
“Have you had a chance to hold him?” Her eyes sparkled when she saw Gabe’s eyes widen.
“Uh…no.” Gabe backed up a few inches when she held Patrick out to him.
“You won’t break him. Place your arms under him and pull him to your chest.”
“Go ahead,” Dax encouraged. “You may have a few of your own someday, and this will give you an idea of what it’s like.”
“Not me. Noah and Abby plan to have a houseful of children. That’ll be enough for me.” Even though he protested, he held out his arms, letting Lena transfer Patrick to him.
The room quieted as they watched Gabe. Most of Rachel’s female friends had held the baby at least once, but fewer men wanted the experience. Luke, Bull, Travis, and Dax were the only men, besides Doc Worthington, who’d held him. Now Gabe joined the list.
“What do you think of him?” Lena asked, watching over his shoulder, seeing Patrick’s eyes focus on Gabe’s.
He glanced at her, his mouth twisting into a smile. “I’ll be more impressed when he’s old enough to ride and help with chores.”
“Amen to that,” Dax chimed in, although no one could mistake the love he had for his son. “Why don’t you hand him back to Lena and I’ll show you our newest colt?”
Gabe gave Patrick back to Lena, his gaze locking on hers for a brief moment, feeling something pass between them. Her lips parted, seeming to sense what he had, then she stepped away.
It didn’t take long to follow Dax to the barn. Talking in his smooth southern drawl, Dax talked of the delivery, as well as their plans for the horse breeding program. However, most of his words faded into the distance as Gabe thought of the unexpected sensations which passed between him and Lena. He’d never experienced such a profound sense of yearning, almost painful in its intensity. From the bewildered expression in her eyes, he felt certain she felt it, too.
“Are you ready to head back to the house?” Dax asked, clasping Gabe on the shoulder.
“Sure.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked toward the house, trying to sort out the mixed feelings rumbling around in his mind.
“When are you going to do something about her?” Dax asked.
Gabe’s brows furrowed as he glanced over at his friend. “Who?”
Dax rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, then stopped and turned toward Gabe. “Lena. And don’t tell me you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
He didn’t want to talk about her or any feelings he might harbor for her. At no time in his life had he ever envisioned himself married and having a family. Even with their substantial resources and constant stream of nannies, as the oldest of four brothers, he’d always been looked upon as being responsible for those younger. Never one to shirk his duties, Gabe did what his parents expected. When he left for college, he swore it would be a long time, if ever, before he accepted the responsibility of a wife and children.
“Lena’s a beautiful, smart, compassionate woman. Any man would be fortunate to claim her—any man except me. Truth is, I’m not interested in a relationship, no matter how attracted I am to her.”
Dax watched him, noting that Gabe never made eye contact, letting his gaze settle on the mountains to the west.
“You sure about that?”
“No doubt. Marriage isn’t for me. Never has been.”
Dax nodded, not believing a word of it. Most men felt the same until they met the right woman. Gabe could be as stubborn as any man he’d ever met. Nevertheless, from the way he looked at Lena, Dax would give him a few months at most. A man could only hold out for so long.
“Are you certain I have the money to hire another person, Nick?” Suzanne studied the numbers again. She’d had one person work for her over the years. Ginny Pelletier helped clean rooms in exchange for a place to live and meals for her and her sister. It had worked well for both of them until Ginny met and married Luke.
“If you hire another person, you’ll be able to add more tables, expand your menu, and be available to talk with your customers. It may hit your savings for a short period, but then you’ll see your income rise.”
Suzanne watched as he adjusted the patch over his left eye. She’d never asked how he came to wear it, not wanting to broach an uncomfortable subject.
“I’d like to continue doing the cooking.” She folded her hands in her lap, thinking about who she might be able to hire to wait on the customers.
“You’ll want to hire a cook so you can be available to take care of all the other duties.” He held a hand up when she started to object. “You can still plan the meals and help in their preparation, but you need to have time to run the dining room.”
“All the women I know, who can prepare descent meals, aren’t looking for work. They’re tending to their families.”
“There’s no reason you can’t hire a man. That’s what most of the ranchers do when there’s no woman on the place. I’ll bet you’d have a good number from which to choose.”
“Maybe, but those ranch cooks are stubborn and set in their ways. I’ll need someone who’ll do the job my way.” She scrunched up her face, thinking of the pigheaded men she’d met who handled the cooking chores on the trail and for the bunkhouses.
“Then we look until we find the right person.”
She looked up at him, her brows lifting in surprise. “You’d help me find someone?”
“I’d be glad to help you, Suzanne. Whatever you need.” He settled his hand over hers for a moment before pulling away. Clearing his throat, he stood and grabbed his hat. “I’d better get to the saloon before Lena wonders where I am.” His voice held a slight huskiness Suzanne had never noticed before. She found herself wondering if he felt any of the jitters or heart-pounding sensations she did when they were close. “Perhaps we can meet for coffee when you’re finished serving breakfast tomorrow. We can talk about finding your new cook then.” A hesitant smile tipped the corners of his mouth before he turned to leave.
Suzanne finished the last sip of her coffee, watching as he walked out. He’d been living in the boardinghouse for close to a year. They’d become friends, had coffee once or twice a week, and on occasion, even shared a late supper when business slowed at the saloon. She looked forward to those visits, perhaps more than she should.
Pushing herself from the table, she grabbed the documents, planning to study them more after the supper crowd le
ft. Doubts still plagued her, even though Nick felt certain of her abilities. It felt good to know someone understood a little of the fears she faced as a widowed businesswoman. She owned the building and everything in it, feeling certain Horace Clausen would grant her a loan. Nick had also offered, but Suzanne would never accept money from him, even as a loan. Walking into the kitchen, she set to work on the final preparations for supper, her mind focused on finding someone who could replace her in the kitchen. It might be a long search.
“I hope you will consider our offer, Mr. Henderson. It could be quite a while before you find anyone who can pay more.” Carlyle finished his whiskey, placing the empty glass on Amos’ desk before standing.
Thomas had remained silent during most of the discussion. He’d taken one look at the well-worn saloon and almost walked out. It was several steps below the ones he’d owned in San Francisco. However, one look at the meticulous records Amos kept changed his mind.
Amos didn’t have an interest in selling due to the need for money. It had to do with his desire to travel, see more of the country before he got too old to enjoy it. He felt no rush to sell. Instead, he’d take his time, put word out in Big Pine, and see what kind of response he got. Neither Willie nor Tommy wanted that to happen. They’d made a generous offer and would push until Amos accepted it.
“Nice to meet both of you.” He shook their hands, a trickle of unease passing through him as they turned to leave. “It might be a while before I make a decision.”
“Take your time, but I’m certain you’ll find no one who will match our offer.” Willie led the way outside, then stopped as he scanned the main street. “We’ll give him a week, then visit again.”
“And if he still isn’t certain?” Tommy asked.
“We’ll send Stillwell to make sure Henderson sees the advantages of selling to us, and the disadvantages if he doesn’t,” Willie smirked. “Regardless, the saloon will be ours within weeks.” Hearing the music from the Dixie, he started across the street. “It’s time to visit what will soon be our competition.”
Nick set aside the paperwork on his desk as the noise level in the saloon increased, knowing he’d have to make his presence known before the mood of the patrons got out of hand. He’d been grateful when Gabe insisted he have Cash, Beau, or himself in the saloon most nights. The Dixie attracted a wilder crowd than the Rose, younger and prone to grab their guns to settle any dispute. More often than not, the jail filled with its customers, sleeping off the effects of too much alcohol. Gabe didn’t spend much time on lesser crimes. There simply wasn’t room in the jail when the circuit judge came through town just once every couple months.
Opening the door into the saloon, Nick saw every table filled with men playing cards, drinking, or joking with the girls. Faro, seven up, and poker were the most common card games. The previous spring, he and Lena had made the decision to ship in a roulette table. Soon, they would add keno, a game Nick had played in Houston, and a craps table, making them the first in the territory to offer those games.
They talked of expanding to the abandoned building next door, until Lewis Gibson had made the decision to lease it to the newspaper. Now they’d be forced to enlarge their space by relocating the office and storage rooms, then pushing out the back. With the increase in population, the changes would soon pay for themselves.
Taking his usual spot at the end of the bar, he ordered a whiskey and let his gaze wander over the room. Nothing drew his attention until the doors swung open and a man he hadn’t seen in close to seven years walked in, his eyes connecting with Nick’s. Knowing Carlyle would visit the Dixie at some point, he’d prepared himself for this moment. By the way his eyes widened and skin paled, Carlyle didn’t know who owned the saloon. For a few minutes, Nick held the advantage. He knew it would be short-lived.
Nick never let his gaze leave Carlyle’s as he and another man stepped up to the bar.
“Whiskey for my partner and me.” Willie tossed coins on the bar, then turned toward Nick. “It’s been a long time, Nick.”
“Not long enough. Finish your drink and leave. We don’t cater to those who can’t be trusted.” Nick watched Willie’s face harden as a hand moved to his gun. “You may be a scoundrel, but even you aren’t foolish enough to start something with two deputies nearby.” Nick nodded to a corner where Cash and Beau sat at a table, their attention focused on him and Carlyle.
“Of course not. I understand your anger, even though it’s directed at the wrong person. I heard about the theft of your money, but if you’re thinking it was me, you are mistaken.” Carlyle picked up his whiskey and took a slow slip, his gaze moving up the stairs to the balcony above.
“She’s not here,” Nick growled, his eyes narrowing.
“Pity. But we both know if you’re here, she’s close. Give her my regards, would you?”
Nick fumed at the thought of Carlyle getting anywhere close to Lena. He glanced at the second man standing on the other side of Willie, listening to their exchange.
“And you are?” Nick asked.
“Thomas Pennington. William and I are partners in the Devil Dancer mine.” He stretched out his hand, which Nick stared at before tossing back the rest of his drink.
“I’ll give you the same message. Finish your drink and leave. Neither of you are welcome at the Dixie.”
He glanced at the stairs, hoping Lena didn’t choose this moment to walk down. She’d been tending to Deborah, who’d taken ill with some form of stomach ailment. Doc had left a couple hours before, cautioning them to keep her in bed until the symptoms subsided.
Carlyle finished his drink, setting the glass down. Pennington did the same. “It was a pleasure to see you, Nick. Perhaps we’ll encounter each other again.” The superior tone of Carlyle’s voice grated on him, but he stayed quiet. Getting them out of the saloon had become his top priority.
“It’s doubtful as you won’t be coming back in here.” Anger seethed through him as the doors closed behind them. He worked to control his fury, not wanting Lena to know of Carlyle’s visit. It would be a false hope to believe Carlyle wouldn’t come back, if for no other reason than to see Lena. He tightened his hand around his glass, the pressure almost shattering it.
“Was that Carlyle?”
Nick turned to see Cash beside him. “And his partner, Thomas Pennington.”
“They sure didn’t stay long.” He signaled Paul for a beer. “Did you have anything to do with their leaving so suddenly?”
“I told them they weren’t welcome in here.” Nick spotted Lena coming down the stairs. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Cash noticed Lena and clamped his mouth shut. “Good evening, Lena. You look wonderful tonight.”
“Why, thank you, Cash. This dress came in on the stage today, all the way from New York.” She smoothed her hands down it, feeling the silk, and admiring the deep blue color. “Deborah’s doing better,” she said, answering the unspoken question she saw on Nick’s face. “She wanted to get dressed and work tonight. I told her if she came downstairs, we’d fire her on the spot.”
“Tough lady,” Cash joked, knowing her threat was real. They didn’t allow sick girls to work, insisting they recover before offering entertainment to the men.
Lena smiled at Cash’s comment. It hadn’t been easy for her to clamp down her natural tendency to nurture and overlook behavior which might prove harmful. At first, she’d wanted to be friends with all the girls. Now she knew better. Being the boss meant distancing yourself from those who worked for you, being careful not to let the bond get too strong. She’d made mistakes over the years, but what needed to be done was now ingrained in her.
The man at the piano launched into to a fast, jaunty tune, belting out the words. Before long, several miners had joined him, along with two of the saloon girls. As they swayed back and forth to the music, Lena’s attention went to the swinging doors, her breath catching as Gabe walked in.
She’d never seen him so decked out. Black trou
sers, jacket, shirt, boots, a tapestry vest of blue silk, matching ribbon tie, and black hat. His appearance gave the impression of a man going to an important function, or perhaps courting someone. Her stomach clenched at the thought of him showing an interest in another woman. She knew several single or widowed women in the area who’d jump at the chance to be with him. If her life were different, she’d be included in that group.
Without any hesitation, he walked up to her. “Good evening, Lena.” His gaze wandered over her, appreciation clear in the way his eyes darkened. “You look stunning.”
She swallowed, hoping to clear the lump in her throat. “Thank you, Sheriff. You look…remarkable.” Her voice came out as no more than a whisper.
“I thought we agreed you’d call me Gabe,” he said, his eyes sparkling. Shifting his stance, he cast a look at Nick. “If you can spare her, I’d like to have a few words with Lena. In private.”
Nick’s eyes sparked in amusement. “It’s up to the lady.”
Turning toward Lena, he tilted his head, the question clear in the way his eyes met hers.
“Yes. I can spare a few minutes.”
Accepting the arm he offered, he led her out the swinging doors, surprising most of those who noticed them.
“What do you think that’s all about?” Nick asked Cash, who looked as confused as he felt.
“I have no idea. I’ve never seen him so gussied up.” Cash took a slow swallow of his beer. “Guess I may just have to stick around a while.” His brows rose, already enjoying the unexpected entertainment.
~~~~~
Chapter Eight
Stepping into the cool night air, Lena’s heart raced at the feel of her arm through his, as well as the surprise at the unexpected invitation. She didn’t want to read too much into it, preferring to think of it as a stroll with a friend.
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