The noise from the saloon was deafening, but there was no one in the hallway that led to the back of the building. Hannah made her way into the deserted kitchen. The wood range was lit, sending off dizzying waves of heat, and six buckets were sitting on the stove, filled to the brim. The water was steaming hot.
Now for a tub. Hannah opened the door to the lean-to shed at one end of the kitchen, finding neatly stacked kindling and, off in a comer, a round galvanized iron tub.
With some effort and several pauses to get her breath, she carried it up the stairs and returned for a bucket of the hot water. Outside the back door were two barrels filled with cold water, and with Elvira and Daisy helping, they carried up enough to make the water bearable.
They drew straws for the first bath, and Elvira won. They'd draped sheets over chairs to provide a modicum of privacy, and Elvira’s groans of pure pleasure made Hannah’s anticipation of her turn that much keener.
Of course, each batch of dirty bathwater had to be hauled down and dumped in the back yard between baths, and another pail of hot water carried up. Hannah was carrying the buckets for her own bath up the steps just as one of Logan’s boarders was coming down.
She set the buckets on the stair and pressed herself to the wall to allow him to pass. He was a burly, red-faced man, and he stopped just above her, his small, piggy eyes going from her breasts to her hips and back again before he ever looked at her face.
“Now what’s a pretty little lady like you doin' carryin’ water up here?" He grinned, revealing a mouthful of bad teeth. “I’m Jeb Slater, at yer service.” He reached for the buckets and, before Hannah could protest, sloshed them the rest of the way up the steps and stopped at the door of Logan's room.
“Thank you, Mr. Slater.” Hannah reached for the buckets, but Slater hung on. “I'll take 'em in fer ya. Havin’ a nice hot bath, huh?” He was leering at her, and the suggestive note in his voice made her skin crawl.
"Elvira, open up," Hannah called, and as she’d hoped he would, Slater set the pails down and backed away. By the time Elvira opened the door, he was sauntering down the steps.
Hannah watched him for a moment, and he turned and winked at her suggestively. He gave her the creeps, and she hated the thought of him sleeping just down the hall.
But Hannah forgot about him as she slumped in the tub at last, her long legs dangling over the edge, wondering if the baths she’d had in her own time had ever felt as good. She washed her hair, wondering how long the small bottle of apple shampoo she’d brought along would last.
Daisy rinsed for her by filling the pitcher from the stand and pouring it over Hannah’s head.
When she was done, she rummaged through her luggage and found that she’d packed a dress after all, a long, loose, calf-length blue one.
She slipped it on, feeling better than she had since she’d left Victoria.
Daisy bathed Klaus and then they all used the last of the hot water to wash out their underwear. Elvira strung a makeshift line across the corner of the room, using a length of the rope they found hanging on a nail on one side of the wardrobe.
Elvira said it was a lariat, but it made a fine clothesline.
Hannah was relieved to find Jeb Slater nowhere around when she spilled the last of the dirty water in the yard and returned the tub to its place in the shed. She slumped into one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table, feeling deliciously clean but totally worn out. Did she have enough energy to make it back up the stairs one last time?
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since the picnic on the road, and suddenly she wished with all her being for a telephone and a nearby pizza spot that delivered.
The kitchen door banged and Angus shambled in. He smiled and swept his wide-brimmed hat off when he saw Hannah. “Hiya, miss. Sorry I’m late.”
She gestured at the empty tub. “We used all that hot water on the stove, Angus. I hope it was meant for baths.”
He nodded emphatically. "Yes’m. Boss tole me before you went ta fill up the buckets so's all you ladies could have baths. I was s’posed ta carry it up fer ya, but I was over at the stables with the horses, an' I forgot." He looked crestfallen. “I always forget stuff. Sorry, miss.”
“Everybody forgets things, Angus." Her mind registered the fact that Logan had assumed all along they’d be coming back here with him tonight. He’d just been humoring them, taking them on that trip.
Her stomach growled again. "Angus, do any of the restaurants around here do take-out food?” Angus looked blank and scratched his head. Hannah rephrased the question. “Is there anywhere that would make supper for us women and let you bring it back here?”
Now he nodded vigorously. "Shore. Wake-Up Jake’s sends food alla time to the Hotel de France fer the whores what lives upstairs."
Hannah wondered if Angus knew what whores did for a living, and decided he probably did. She'd noticed several brothels on their way through town. "Would you bring us three orders of dinner? I'll get you some gold, just wait here a minute." She dashed up and retrieved the canvas sack of gold dust Daisy had received in change for a nugget at the bakery, and Angus hurried off.
There was a tin of coffee beans, a grinder, and a blue enamel pot in a cupboard, and Daisy made coffee while they waited. Half an hour later, Angus was back with steaming containers of greasy stew, thick slices of bread, and an entire apple pie that Daisy invited Angus to share.
Although the women were too hungry to be critical, the food left a lot to be desired.
The stew was poorly seasoned, with a layer of oily fat floating on its surface, and the crust on the pie was too tough to chew.
Angus was anything but fussy, however; he devoured half the pie himself, forking in one huge bite after the next.
Logan came in just as they were finishing what they could eat of the pie. Hannah had settled for scraping off the crust and eating the apple filling.
“I hope you don’t mind our taking over your kitchen this way. Would you like pie and coffee, Logan?" Daisy was playing hostess, gesturing to the good-sized piece of pie that Angus hadn't been able to devour.
"I’ll skip the pie, but I’d enjoy coffee. Angus, you’re needed in the saloon.” Logan poured himself coffee from the pot and sat down in the chair Angus had hastily vacated, right beside Hannah.
Logan had obviously bathed and changed his clothing, just as the women had, and Hannah wondered how he’d managed it without carting water up and down a flight of stairs. He was wearing a black suit, beautifully tailored to his tall frame, with a sparkling white shirt and a narrow black bow tie. His luxuriant hair was tied neatly back in its familiar tail at the nape of his neck. He smelled of cigars and some sort of aftershave.
"Evening, Hannah." He gave her a long look, and Hannah was suddenly aware that she’d left her own hair loose to dry. It was probably curling like crazy all around her head. She reached a hand up to smooth it, reminding herself sternly that she had no reason to notice how he looked, care what he thought of her, or even to be anything but polite to him.
"Hello, Logan.” She stared down at her coffee cup, but it was impossible to ignore him. He was right at her elbow, and in spite of her best intentions, his presence seemed to charge the room with an excitement it hadn’t had before.
Logan tried not to stare at the glorious mass of curly flaxen hair that flared around Hannah’s head like a nimbus. The saloon was overflowing with customers; he knew he shouldn’t linger. He'd only come through to the kitchen to find Angus and put the boy to work clearing glasses from tables. Patrons were lined up three-deep at the bar, and every table was filled. Sam was run off his feet.
The reason for the Nugget’s sudden popularity was evident to Logan. Word had gone out about the women's arrival in town, and every eager single male in the entire vicinity had turned up tonight hoping to catch a glimpse of the three females. Their presence was good for business, but if those crowds of men got one good look at Hannah the way she appeared at this moment, he was liable to have
a riot on his hands.
He hadn't seen her in anything but those britches, with her hair braided. Now she was wearing a dress that resembled a nightgown, and the feminine garment suited her wonderfully. Her glorious mass of curly golden hair framed her strong, straight features. The loose blue gown had a shocking neckline that barely came up to her collarbone, and it was sleeveless, baring her rounded shoulders and her tanned arms.
He'd already noted, as had most of the rest of the male population, that none of these women wore a corset. Hannah's soft, full breasts and slender hips were tantalizingly hinted at under the thin cotton. Her bare ankles showed beneath the hem of the dress, and her feet were naked in their strange leather loops.
The smell of her was intoxicating, like apples warmed by the sun. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out again, wondering if she had any idea how damnably desirable she looked.
He hadn't been with a woman for months. His sister's death, the knowledge that Flannery had planned to use Nellie as a prostitute, had made it impossible for Logan to find ease with women in the trade, as he’d done in the past.
Now each of the fallen angels had Nellie’s face, and Logan felt only compassion and sorrow for them, instead of desire.
A sudden overpowering surge of raw sexual need made it unwise to get up from the table. Silently cursing his lack of control, he did his best to focus on whatever Daisy was saying in hopes that it would distract his attention enough to allow his erection to subside.
“Elvira and I were wondering why you don’t serve food here, Logan? You have people renting rooms upstairs, and there’s that great big dining room out there.”
"I can’t cook, and it’s most difficult to find someone who can,” he responded, trying not to even glance at Hannah. He added, "Unfortunately, most of the cooks in town have a tendency to drink too much, and their cooking suffers."
Elvira stabbed a fork at the pie crust she'd left on her plate and wrinkled her nose. “Is that what’s wrong with this? It's as tough as an old boot. Does the cook at Wake-Up Jake’s drink?"
"He does, but Harry’s not too good at pastry even when he’s sober." Logan knew him well. “He’s presently in the saloon, and I'm afraid breakfast at Jake’s will suffer in direct proportion to how long he stays at the Nugget tonight."
Elvira humphed. “Well, why don’t you simply send him on his way before he gets plastered?"
Logan had to grin. Elvira had a cut-and-dried way of speaking that amused him.
“How much a man drinks is his own affair," he said, adding ruefully, "even when my breakfast suffers for it the next morning.”
“Well, I could make you breakfast here," Daisy offered timidly. "All we'd need are some supplies.”
It was something Logan hadn’t considered. “What would you need?”
Daisy got up and began poking in cupboards and drawers. She found a pencil and a scrap of paper and before long had scribbled a list.
“Are any of the stores still open?”
"Two of the proprietors are in the saloon. They’ll be glad to accommodate me." Logan reached for the list, and Hannah spoke for the first time.
“There’s not much point in stocking up on a lot of stuff, Logan, because we'll be looking for another place to stay starting tomorrow." She shot him a cool look. “I'm sure you’d like your bedroom back. We're very grateful to you, but we know we’re imposing.” She got up and sloshed water from the kettle into the dish basin. She dumped the dirty dishes in and began washing them with more energy than Logan felt the job required.
"Actually, I was going to speak to you about accommodation.” He hadn’t been going to do anything of the kind, but seeing her standing there in that flimsy blue dress with the last of the evening light spilling down on her through the window addled his brain, and he became reckless.
“There’s a small room at the back of the building coming vacant in two days."
There was going to be mayhem when he evicted the four miners currently taking turns with the two cots, but everything had a price.
"You’re welcome to rent it if you like.” Inspiration struck. “And Daisy, if you’d truly enjoy doing some cooking, we can try opening the dining room, and of course we’ll come to a fair understanding as to wages."
Daisy blinked. Then she clasped her hands in front of her chest and her eyes widened. "Oh, gracious. Are you offering me a job cooking, Logan?"
He smiled at her. He really liked the timid little woman and her cranky dog.
“I guess I am." He was too much a gambler not to hedge his bets, however. It wasn’t likely she could possibly be a worse cook than Harry, but a person never knew.
"You can practice on Angus and me at breakfast, and if that works out, then why don’t we try serving meals for, oh, say a week, and see how it goes?"
It shouldn’t be a problem to get the dishes cleared off the tables early enough so that the regular gambling games could still go on. He told himself it would be a welcome change not to have to rely on the restaurants for every meal, but honesty made him admit that the only real reason he was considering serving food was to provide a way for Hannah to stay on at the Nugget.
He was a fool. He ought to be out building her a cabin to live in on the opposite side of town, because there was no room in his life for a woman, however much she intrigued him.
It was finally safe to stand up. “I have to get back to the saloon. Thank you for coffee." He held up the shopping list. “I’ll have these supplies here by morning. And Hannah?”
He knew what he was about to say might cause fireworks, but it needed to be said. The pants were bad enough, but the dress was incendiary. “It’s not wise to go out on the street dressed as you are. Drunken miners are a rough lot, and you could well be in danger.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed, shooting fire at him. Her cheeks turned pink and her jaw tightened. She glared at him and then deliberately looked down at herself, raising her head slowly to give him a contemptuous look.
“For heaven's sake, you were the one who went on and on about my jeans. Now you make it sound as if I’m parading around in a bikini. This dress covers me from my neck almost to my ankles. What more do you want?”
Actually, he very much wanted to know what a bikini might be, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
Yesterday’s Gold: Chapter Ten
"It has nothing to do with me, Hannah," Logan assured her. "And I don't mean to insult you. I personally consider what you’re wearing most ... attractive.” He cleared his throat. “I assure you, miners who’ve been drinking whiskey are seldom chivalrous, and unless a woman dresses the way other women do, assumptions are made.”
Her chin shot up. "Well, you nasty-minded men can make all the assumptions you like. I assure you, I can take care of myself."
"I’m glad of that.” He doubted it. She obviously had no idea how outrageously shocking and sexually appealing she looked in her skimpy costume, or how rough a mining town could be.
"I wasn’t exactly planning on walking the streets looking for excitement tonight anyhow," she snapped. “I’m beat. I'm probably going to go straight to bed. Hauling water up and down those steps is enough aerobic exercise for one day. I don't need to wrestle randy miners into the bargain."
She gave him an assessing glance. “Exactly how do you take baths, Logan? Do you have to haul water up and down stairs, or is there an easier arrangement for men?”
He smothered his amusement. She went from wrestling miners to bathing without a hitch.
“Ming Wo has a bathhouse over near the creek. I usually use that.”
“Humph,” Elvira snorted. "And I suppose women aren’t allowed in?"
This time Logan couldn’t subdue his smile. "I know for a fact the men wouldn’t mind, but you women might not be comfortable with the facilities. Ming has a large one-room cabin with four tubs and not much privacy. You could always rent all four."
He was joking. Women didn't use the bathhouse.
&
nbsp; Hannah took him seriously. "What would it cost for an hour or two? Anything's gotta be better than hauling that water up and down."
“Ming charges a dollar a bath. I’ll inquire if he has an hourly rate if you like."
Once again, she'd surprised him. He still couldn’t fully accept the preposterous story these women told of where they were from, but there was no doubt they were interesting.
Hannah was more than interesting. Right now she made it difficult to concentrate on anything except his anatomy.
"What time would you like breakfast?” Daisy was nervously examining the wood cook stove. "I've never actually used one of these. Do you think Angus could help me get it going in the morning?"
“I'll make certain he lights it for you, and there’s a good supply of wood in the shed. I usually eat about seven.” He nodded his head politely. “Good night, ladies."
It was anything but a good night in Hannah's opinion. After the lamp had been extinguished, Elvira began sobbing into her pillow, and Hannah’s heart ached for the older woman, and for herself and her mother as well. What had happened to them all was frightening. More than once today, Hannah had felt like crying herself.
"There, there." Hannah could hear Daisy patting Elvira's back. "Don’t cry, dear friend. Things always look worse at night."
Elvira’s sobs were terrible to hear. She blew her nose and wailed, "But I m-might never see Gordon again. It’s awful, because I know he's out there s-somewhere, but there’s no way to get to him, or even tell him where I am." She sniffled and blew her nose again, and her voice was stuffy from tears. "You know we've had our ups and downs, Gordon and I, but I do care for him. I do."
Lying in the darkness, listening because she had no choice, Hannah doubted Gordon had any inkling of that. Elvira's tongue was sharp enough to slice through steel, and all Hannah had ever heard her do was criticize her husband.
Elvira started to cry again and Hannah felt mean. Elvira was hurting, and Hannah could sympathize with her feelings; there was no way to contact Brad, either, and the frustration of that alone was terrible. It was hard to imagine never seeing him again.
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 47
