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Disorder in the House [How the West Was Done 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Page 5

by Karen Mercury


  “Yes.” Liberty shrugged. “Libby, Liberty, whatever people wish.”

  “I just remembered something I have to do.”

  And Garrett O’Rourke turned tail and literally ran from the schoolyard.

  “Wait. Garrett! Will I meet you back here, say, tomorrow?”

  This sudden appointment was so urgent, Garrett barely had the manners to toss over his shoulder, “Yes, certainly! Tomorrow will be fine!”

  Liberty was left standing alone, holding a pair of railroad tongs.

  Chapter Five

  Liberty had been calling out to Garrett from the schoolyard like a…well, like a schoolgirl with a crush, embarrassing herself by chasing a man who didn’t want her. Standing there stupidly with a pair of tongs in her hand.

  What was she, a hussy? So now she had lost not one but two men. And the week wasn’t even over yet.

  Fearful that her feminine passions would get the best of her, Liberty trudged back to Vancouver House, hoping her father would be home. Simon was a restless person and didn’t spend much time there, but at least she could put down the stupid tongs somewhere.

  Garrett O’Rourke was probably thoroughly mortified he had kissed her. Perhaps if she had resisted a bit more, he would respect her. It was just her damned passion that had led her to fall so easily into the kiss. She’d already been primed for it with her constant reminiscences of the swashbuckling stranger on the train. She was more determined than ever to put her toy back in its box, to see what happened if she didn’t play with it for a week or so.

  Liberty wished there were some fellow suffragists here in town to discuss things like this with. How did any of them know what happened during hysterical paroxysm, if none of them had ever experienced it? Liberty knew that eventually curiosity would kill her more than the paroxysm would, and she would have to find out for herself.

  She cheered up when she saw her sister’s horse hitched in front of Vancouver House. Out here, women didn’t have to ride sidesaddle, and Ivy had been riding twenty miles back to her fiancé’s ranch every night when she finished sending telegrams for the town. Liberty hadn’t spent much time gossiping with Ivy since she’d arrived, as Ivy obviously spent most of her time with Marshal Neil Tempest.

  And there was a second man, the exotic Captain Harland Park, who oversaw the building of the Cactus Club among other things, who seemed to constantly be with them. Captain Park also rode every night back to Serendipity Ranch. Perhaps he was investing in Serendipity. Liberty might even have chased after Captain Park herself if it wasn’t so obvious he was smitten with Ivy.

  Neither man was at Vancouver House, and Liberty was glad. If she couldn’t talk to Ivy about this dilemma, who could she talk to? She wondered if Ivy had experienced this paroxysm.

  She found Ivy up in her bedroom packing a few things into a carpetbag. Liberty collapsed on Ivy’s bed like an empty sack.

  Ivy giggled. She moved to the dressing table where she had apparently been sipping from a glass of claret, and started handing it to Liberty.

  She stopped, for she must have remembered that Liberty was a temperance advocate. But today Liberty’s high ideals suddenly didn’t seem so important to her, for she snapped, “Oh, just hand it over!” She chugged as Ivy laughed openly at her. Unused to strong liquor, Liberty choked, and some of the wine nearly came out of her nose.

  Ivy said, “Temperance has a way of vanishing once one arrives in the Far West.”

  “I’ll say,” Liberty agreed heatedly. She sat dejectedly, cradling the empty glass between her knees, staring dully at the wall. “I have now met two men I would like to court.”

  Ivy abruptly froze, a half-folded blouse in her hands. “Two men? I haven’t even heard of one.”

  “I know,” Liberty nearly sobbed. “Because I didn’t know his name. Still don’t. I met him on the train. And just now I made the acquaintance of a Private Garrett O’Rourke, but he ran from me almost in tears. Probably in shock, because I was such a slut that I kissed him.”

  Ivy was still frozen like a statue when Liberty stood and breezed past her toward the claret bottle. She sloshed some liquor into her glass, drank half of it without snorting, and whined, “Garrett said he’d help build furniture for my new school. I’m in love with the man from the train, but now I think I’m in love with Garrett, too.”

  Ivy’s mouth finally moved. “Well, at least you know the second fellow’s name.”

  Whisking past her sister again, Liberty plopped down on the mattress. Slumped over, she stared blankly into thin air. Only half of her mouth chuckled at her sister’s joke. “Yes. There is that.”

  Ivy sat next to her on the bed, deadly serious. “Well, this isn’t like you at all! Have you ever even been in love? How do you know you’re in love with the train fellow without even knowing his name?”

  “I’ve never been in love, and that’s how I know I am now. Remember that Alain Broussard fellow I was so hot about?” Liberty turned her screwed-up, whiny face to her sister.

  Ivy wrinkled her nose with distaste. “That awful French fellow who wrote you that horribly sentimental poetry?”

  Liberty sighed limply. “That’s the one.”

  “Every time you’d say something, he’d sniff, ‘I doubt that very much!’ As though he didn’t believe in you. As though he had no respect for anything you said or did.”

  “Yes. That’s him.”

  “He wore those enormous lace collars that made him look like Gainsborough’s Blue Boy and always elbowed other men with this incredibly knowing look when he said, ‘Côte d’Azur, Côte d’Azur! The women, the women!’ As though he had a hundred women waiting for him in the Côte d’Azur, just lounging around on—”

  Liberty slapped Ivy’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “Enough!”

  “Well, he was quite handsome,” Ivy said soberly.

  “I thought I was in love with him. Comparing the way I felt about Alain and putting it next to the way I feel about the train fellow, well…there’s just no comparison.” Regaining her old strength and enthusiasm, Liberty pivoted on the mattress to face her sister. “Ivy, there was a world of difference! I must have just imagined I was in love with Alain, you see?”

  “Or maybe you were just young and immature? You didn’t know what true love was yet.”

  “That could be it. But suddenly, with the train fellow, I felt alive for the first time in my life! I wanted to possess him, to eat him, to absorb him into my soul. Does this make any sense?”

  Ivy smiled like a cat. “Yes. It does. And you felt the same for this Private O’Rourke?”

  Liberty tilted her head thoughtfully. “Yes. Well, nearly the same. It’s very hard to describe. I’d say with the train fellow it was more of a romantic love, the sort that makes you go absolutely insane, incapable of functioning until you can be in his arms again, do you know what I mean?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Oh, right. You must feel that way about Neil Tempest. Anyway, Garrett is more of a practical, warm sort of feeling. As though he’s someone I can depend upon.” Remembering that she hadn’t been able to depend upon him to stay in the schoolyard and say a proper good-bye, Liberty swallowed the rest of the claret and pouted. “Is it possible to be in love with two men at the same time, I wonder?”

  It was merely an idle question, but suddenly her sister became quite spirited. “Oh, yes! Yes, dear Liberty. I can tell you with absolute assurance that it’s entirely possible. And it’s just as you described. Loving two men with equal passion but in different ways.”

  Liberty sniffled. There seemed to be some importance to what Ivy was saying, only she couldn’t quite figure it out. “You mean it’s happened to you?”

  “Oh, yes.” Ivy looked from side to side as though someone were listening. She whispered, “It’s happening to me right now.”

  Liberty’s jaw hung low as Ivy’s meaning slowly sunk in. “You mean…”

  “Yes. I mean.”

  “Neil and…Captain Park?”
>
  “Neil and Captain Park.”

  Liberty needed another glass of claret to allow this information to sink in. She stood at the vanity sipping, watching her sister in the mirror. Ivy had never looked more lively and vibrant. Liberty had thought perhaps it was the western sun burnishing her skin and putting roses in her cheeks, but now she knew it was…Two men?

  Liberty finally managed to say, “So…so…so…”

  “Don’t ask me how it works, but it does. Out here it’s different from Hyde Park. There are twenty men for every woman, and most of those women are prairie flowers or simply not desirable. Dear Liberty, men are simply growing on trees around here.”

  Liberty stuck out her lower lip. “Yes, but most of them aren’t the sort one would even walk on the same sidewalk with—if Laramie had sidewalks—much less passionately kiss, like I just did to two different men in the same week.”

  “You kissed the train fellow? And you don’t even know his name? Oh, Liberty! Whatever are we going to do with you? This Dakota Territory air seems to have gone to your brain.”

  Liberty grinned slyly. “As it has yours.”

  Ivy looked down at the floor in mock shame.

  Liberty sighed. “And I know which men I would like to decide between. But I have yet to court either one of them. And one of them I can’t even find.”

  “All right. Let’s start with the fellow you do have a name for. Garrett O’Rourke? Listen, is he a private at the fort, no doubt? Then Neil is certain to know him.”

  “Well, he said he’d return tomorrow to the school I found. I haven’t even told you about that yet. He agreed to build furniture for the children, can you imagine?”

  “Yes, what’s this about a school?”

  “Oh, I found a school, I didn’t tell you!”

  “No! Tell me now!”

  “Well, there’s an unused two-room building on Grand Avenue…”

  And the sisters talked for another hour.

  Chapter Six

  “So who is this gal again?” Levi asked suspiciously as they rode along Grand Avenue.

  “I told you,” said Garrett. “Libby, that’s all I know. She led me to Moses Taggart’s old house, and she says we can stay there when we’re in town.”

  “That’s the part I don’t understand. How does she have the right to allow us to stay in Taggart’s old house?”

  “I told you,” Garrett repeated. “Her father is some kind of big frog in town. He works for the railroad or something. Said she could find out what the markings were on those tongs that Paddy helped me find.”

  Levi’s main suspicion was that Garrett himself had eyes for this Libby. For instance, Garrett waxed a bit too passionate when asked to describe her. He speechified about her curls as black as night, her trim yet buxom figure, the apparently large size of her feet. Garrett even jawed excitedly about a mole on her shoulder. Her shoulder? How had Garrett seen her shoulder? But definite fireworks came into Garrett’s voice when he described how coquettishly Libby had ladled out the chile con carne.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be hot for this Libby, now, would you?” he asked his partner as they dismounted.

  Garrett’s face colored with embarrassment, Levi could see, even under the creamy café au lait color of his skin. He giggled with nerves as he tied his horse to the porch’s post. “Hot? Not me. No, sir. I’m concentrating on our undertaking. Hand on the plow, I always say. Eyes on the prize!”

  “Yeah,” grumbled Levi as they stepped up to the front door. “I’d say there’s a prize you’ve got your eyes on.”

  “Why are you knocking?” Garrett asked. “The door’s open.”

  “We need to get a lock,” Levi murmured as Garrett opened the door. Garrett allowed Levi in first. He didn’t need to do that. They were partners in this investigation, equals. Just because Levi was the Indian agent didn’t mean Garrett needed to kowtow to him. Garrett was probably just accustomed to being servile.

  “My, my,” Garrett marveled. “Will you look at this?”

  Levi looked around. “Look at what?” It was the most basic of rooms, about as fancy as Levi’s own rooms at the fort.

  Smiling widely, Garrett gestured grandly. “Look at what she’s done to the place!”

  “What?” All Levi could see was a table and three chairs. He wouldn’t like to see the place before Libby had done anything to it, that was for sure.

  Garrett strode about. “This is all new! She found chairs, put this tablecloth on…Why, she even found this flower vase. And these curtains. Yesterday this place had no curtains. She must’ve brought a whole wagon over here. This lamp wasn’t here. Oh, and look! Here are the tongs I told you about.”

  Removing his Stetson, Levi accepted the tongs. “Don’t get so worked up. She’s probably just starting to get it ready to turn into a school. These are railroad tie tongs. Tracklayers use them. Nothing so unusual in that.”

  The smile fell from Garrett’s face, and he seemed annoyed. “Other than that Paddy told me I’d find them stuck up near the roof.”

  “He didn’t tell you what you’d find near the roof,” Levi countered, just to be argumentative. He had a feeling he was being strung along just so that Garrett could get close to this schoolteacher. “You could’ve easily found a box of someone’s unwashed condoms.”

  Garrett rolled his eyes at his partner. “Now, why are you being so surly? My pal Paddy tells me what’s what, and I believe in him. If you have no interest in finding Shady and Moses, just tell me right now. You can go back to your flush life at the fort.”

  Levi stood tall. He knew he shouldn’t be scoffing at the things Garrett and Paddy wrote. After all, they had predicted his own arrival in town, his tattoo, and his love for Miss Liberty Hudson. Levi had not, of course, mentioned her name aloud since discovering what it was, as though it would be a bad omen to speak it. He had made a conscious effort to steer clear of Vancouver House, which appeared to be situated one block down and three blocks over. No, he would never head toward that part of town.

  “I’m not saying it’s all flapdoodle, Garrett. Most of what you wrote is infallible.” He stuck out his chest. “And as the Indian agent for Fort Sanders duly appointed by President Johnson, I have a duty to track down my predecessor—”

  Levi’s own blather was cut short when the back door opened to admit a block of bright sunlight and the form of—Levi gasped. Miss Liberty Hudson.

  “Hey!” Garrett called happily from somewhere on the foggy outer reaches of Levi’s awareness. “Here she is. Libby. It’s so very good to see you again. I’ve brought my partner, the Indian agent I told you about.”

  As Levi’s hand that held the tongs fell limply to his side, Liberty Hudson came toward him. She was the exact replica that had haunted his lusty visions for several nights and days now. Sleek curls framed her heart-shaped face. Her features were in perfect focus, just as Levi recalled—the sculpted nose, the intelligently bowed lips he had kissed, the shell-like ears.

  She seemed to hold her breath and float toward him, grasping a handful of flowers of some kind. Her eyes were leveled on Levi as she absently put the flowers onto the table without looking at them.

  Meanwhile, Garrett continued to chatter. About what, Levi didn’t know. All the blood seemed to have been sucked from his brain and into his vitals, mostly his cock. Tiny clear bubbles swam before his eyes because he had stopped breathing. The violet scent he recalled so acutely even wafted over to him when she stopped, only four feet from him.

  “You’re the new Indian agent,” she whispered.

  Levi couldn’t tell if this angered her or enticed her. “Yes, I am,” he had to admit.

  Her face was all aglow, as though lit up from inside. “You’re the one chasing after Shady Barnhart and Moses Taggart. Garrett’s partner.”

  “Yes.” He remembered to breathe. By coming forward to set the tongs down next to her flowers, he came within a foot of her. He inhaled her fresh violet scent as his cock elongated toward her lap.
>
  “Oh, so you’re already acquainted,” Garrett said innocently.

  It occurred to Levi that he should strangle Garrett. That entire blather about “Libby” had been an act, a bunch of hot gas! Garrett must have known the entire time that she was the daughter of Simon Hudson, the gal Levi had been pining for. Garrett had been standing right there when Marshal Tempest and Levi had come to the mutual understanding that Levi was not chasing after Tempest’s fiancée.

  And Levi had already nearly strangled Garrett once, just for insinuating that Levi might be in love with a Hudson daughter.

  Levi took his eyes from the Egyptian stunner in order to shoot his partner a murderous look. “You lowdown double-crosser,” he snarled.

  Garrett put a hand to his chest. “Me? What did I do? So look here, Libby.”

  “Liberty, if you wish,” she said, her eyes blazing wickedly. She finally smiled, perhaps having overcome the mortification at once again seeing the low-life pauper from the gutter who had had the grit to assault her in a railcar. She was a Hudson daughter, after all. She should be courting the son of some other railroad magnate, not dimpling her cheeks at Levi Colter.

  Garrett blathered on virtuously, “We see you’ve brought back the tongs. Did you get any information from your father?” He turned to Levi. “Her father is Mr. Simon Hudson, merchant of railroad ties, so we figured he’d know what these numbers mean.”

  Levi closed his eyes patiently. “Yeah, I’ve sort of figured that out by now, Garrett. You could’ve informed me beforehand.”

  Garrett was wide-eyed with surprise. “Oh, did I not mention that? You told me never to mention that subject to you ever again.”

  “What subject?” Liberty asked brightly. “Mr. Colter, did you have some bad run-in with my father? He’s a softy, I assure you.”

  Garrett wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s not your father he doesn’t wish to discuss, Libby. Now, about these tongs. Did you get any information?”

  Although she looked puzzled, Liberty picked up the tracklaying tool that Levi wished he could toss out the window. And throw Garrett out there with it, too. “Yes. Of course you know what the UP stands for. But these numbers indicate the station where the tool was meant to be used. In this case the Sherman Summit station, about twenty miles southeast of—”

 

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