by Debra Cowan
Three days after Russ had found her on the prairie, he was at the stage stand between the livery and the saloon. Mr. Julius had taken the train to Abilene and was due to arrive in Whirlwind by coach. The businessman was coming to take a look at The Fontaine, but from his last wire, it sounded as though the visit was just a formality. He was ready to buy.
With one booted foot propped against a support post, Russ watched as Davis Lee stopped at every business across the street. Inside Ef’s, the sheriff talked to the blacksmith a while before striding past the jail and on to The Pearl. In short order, he checked on the telegraph and post office as well as The Whirlwind Hotel.
Fingering his now-bare upper lip, Russ noted Davis Lee crossing to this side of the street. He worked his way down from the gunsmith shop past Haskell’s General Store and the newspaper office.
Though this was the sheriff’s morning routine, he usually did it between eight and nine o’clock in the morning, not a few minutes before noon.
Davis Lee joined Russ beside the saloon and shook his hand.
“Something going on today?” Russ asked.
“Nothing much. Why?”
“You’re just now making your rounds. You usually do that first thing in the morning and last thing at night.”
“I was taking care of Josie. She’s been sick.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Is it catchin’?”
“No.” A huge grin spread across Davis Lee’s face.
“You sure look happy about it. How sick is she?”
“She’s been sick every morning this week. Every morning.”
“Every morning? You might want to get Dr. Butler to come in from the fort.”
“He’s already seen her,” Davis Lee said. “Said she’ll probably be sick at least another two months.”
“Two months!” Sick every morning. It dawned on Russ what his friend was saying. “She’s expecting? Y’all are going to have a baby?”
Davis Lee nodded, chuckling.
“Congratulations.” Russ clapped him on the back, pleased for his friends. Josie had suffered a miscarriage about three months earlier. “That’s good. You telling everyone?”
“Just a few people right now.”
“I’ll keep it to myself.”
“Thanks.”
“Man, I hope y’all don’t have a boy. He’ll be hell just like you and Riley were, and Josie doesn’t deserve that.”
“Well, if it’s a girl…What if it is a girl?” The smile faded from Davis Lee’s face. “I don’t know anything about raising girls.”
Neither did Russ. “Well, Riley does since he married Susannah and adopted Lorelai.”
“True.” The sheriff relaxed a bit at the mention of his adopted niece.
A pregnant Susannah had come to Whirlwind under the impression that Riley wanted to marry her and he hadn’t known a thing about the arrangement. He’d eventually fallen in love with her and her infant daughter, and married Susannah.
Davis Lee glanced back at the open door of the small stage office. “You waiting on somebody?”
“There’s a man coming in from Chicago who’s probably going to buy my share of the hotel.” Russ had already told Davis Lee he needed to sell in order to pay off Pa’s loan. “I told the banker in Abilene I might have the money early.”
“Have you told your new partner?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t tell Davis Lee how she made no secret of wanting to get him out of there. “She seems fine with it.”
Davis Lee nodded as one of the Baldwins’ wagons rolled to a stop in front of them. Russ’s brother and father called out a greeting. In a swirl of dust, Russ moved to help his pa out of the buckboard, guilt twisting inside him.
J. T. Baldwin was a big man, just like his sons. Though the accident had happened three months earlier, he still had trouble sitting for very long at a time so someone had to drive him where he needed to go.
“What brings y’all to town?” Russ asked as he waited for his father to maneuver his wheelchair to the support post where Russ had been.
“Pa’s wanting some of Cora’s peach pie and we both thought it was high time we met your partner.” Matt’s sharp-eyed gaze scanned the main street then rested on The Fontaine. “Is she out and about today?”
“I’m sure she is.” Russ still wasn’t all that keen on his brother meeting Lydia.
“That’s her right now,” J.T. said, pointing past Russ. “Spittin’ image of her mama. Who’s the woman with her?”
Russ glanced over his shoulder to see Lydia and her pretty black companion stepping off the hotel’s front porch and angling across the dusty street toward them. “That’s her maid, Naomi.”
Lydia wore a deep green-and-blue-striped dress that fit snugly across her full breasts, drawing his eye to the watch pinned to her bodice. Her hair was swept up beneath a small blue hat trimmed with a ribbon in the same blue and green as the dress. Naomi looked neat and fresh in a pale yellow skirt and white shirtwaist.
“Pretty don’t come close on either one of them,” Matt said appreciatively, shouldering his way past Russ and striding over to intercept the women.
Russ bit back the urge to tell his brother to stay away from Lydia. Away from both women.
A movement caught his eye and he looked across to the blacksmith shop. Ef stood next to his hitching post, staring at Lydia and Naomi as they walked toward the saloon.
Matt reached the women and the three of them talked for a moment, then Lydia laughed. He offered each woman an arm.
As his brother escorted the ladies over, Russ felt an unexpected bolt of jealousy. He didn’t want Matt or any other man putting his hands on Lydia. What in tarnation was his problem? Russ had no claim on her, didn’t want one.
As Matt drew the women to a stop, Russ and the others doffed their hats.
“Miz Kent, Miz Jones, I see you’ve met my brother. And you met Sheriff Holt the other morning at the hotel.” Russ hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “This is my pa, J.T.”
The big man rolled carefully around Russ and bent over Lydia’s hand. “I didn’t recognize you all grown-up, Miz Lydia, but there’s no mistaking you for Garner and Kathleen’s daughter.”
“Hello, Mr. Baldwin,” she said in a sweet smoky drawl. “It’s nice to see you.”
“I was sorry to hear about your sister.”
“Thank you.”
Despite her soft tone, Russ felt a sudden tension in her. In Naomi, too.
He remembered Pa telling him that Lydia’s married sister had suffered a fall and died some months ago. J.T. released Lydia and bent over Naomi’s hand. The woman said a quiet hello.
Davis Lee nodded to both women. “Ladies.”
“Hello, Sheriff.” Lydia smiled. “How’s your wife?”
“She’s just fine. I’ll tell her you asked after her. How’s your arm?”
“It’s healing well, I think.” Lydia glanced at Russ. “Are you gentlemen having a meeting?”
“Just visitin’,” he said, drawing in a deep breath of her subtle flowery scent. He noticed Ef was still staring at the women.
Lydia’s gaze found his. “We’re headed to the restaurant to talk to Pearl about desserts for the hotel. Any requests?”
“Pecan pie,” Russ said. There were plenty of the nuts around Whirlwind, thanks to the Eishens’ pecan orchard.
She pulled her little book from her skirt pocket—was she ever without that thing?—and scribbled a note.
Matt eased up to her. “How about peach pie, too?”
“It’s hard to beat Cora’s peach pie,” J.T. said.
“Is she a lady here in town?” Lydia asked the older man.
He nodded. “Cora Wilkes. Makes the best pie in the state.”
“I’d love to try it sometime. Perhaps she would be interested in baking some for the hotel if Pearl wouldn’t mind.”
“Pearl gets her peach pies from Cora, too.” Russ was taken with the gentle curve of Lydia’s jaw and her dewy skin.
&nb
sp; She caught him looking and a slight flush tinged her cheeks.
Closing her book, she turned away with Naomi. “Good day, gentlemen.”
“Good day,” they said in unison.
Russ watched as the women made their way across the street and disappeared into the restaurant. Forcing his gaze away, he noticed Matt was watching, too. And so was Ef, though his attention was only on Naomi. The blacksmith looked dazed, as if he’d been hit upside the head.
Russ grinned. He’d never seen his friend pay so much attention to a woman.
The rumble of hooves announced the arrival of the stagecoach. As it rolled into town and past the smithy, Ef stepped back into his shop. Wheels creaking, the coach pulled to a stop in front of the saloon. Pete Carter, who owned the saloon, also occasionally drove the stage, and today he was in the high seat.
“Hey, Pete.” Davis Lee moved to open the door and a lone barrel-chested gentleman stepped out.
Russ thumbed his hat back. “Mr. Julius?”
The man’s shrewd dark eyes flickered over him. “Mr. Baldwin, I presume.”
“Yes, sir.” Russ shook the man’s hand and introduced his family, then gestured to Davis Lee. “This is Sheriff Holt.”
“Sheriff.” At least a half foot shorter than Russ, the man removed his bowler hat and rubbed his bald head. “Nice to meet you.”
Pete had hopped down and now handed the visitor’s valise to him. Mr. Julius pressed a coin into Pete’s hand.
“Thank you, sir,” the saloon owner/stage driver said.
“Would you care for a drink before we get started?” Russ asked the businessman.
“Maybe after.”
“All right then. Right this way.” He stepped around the horses and waited for his guest to follow.
“Nice to have met you, Mr. Julius,” Davis Lee said.
“Thank you. Friendly town,” he observed as he and Russ angled across the street to the hotel.
In front of The Fontaine, the other man stopped, eyeing the three-story structure built from pale sandstone. He indicated the arched doorways on the second and third stories. “This is very fine-looking.”
“Glad you think so.”
“Dignified, but not too fancy.” He looked up at the second story balcony set off by a black railing. “The ironwork is some of the best I’ve seen.”
“Our blacksmith, Ef Gerard, did that.”
“He’s very skilled.” Leaving his valise, the businessman walked the length and width of the hotel. Then he went up the staircase on the outside wall closest to the livery. He strolled along the balcony then returned downstairs and picked up his bag, following Russ inside. Russ removed his Stetson and held on to it.
Placing his valise and bowler hat behind the registration desk, Julius walked carefully around the lobby. “You’ve done a fine job with everything, Mr. Baldwin. I especially like the rug you chose.”
Russ grinned, making a mental note to tell Lydia.
The other man approved heartily of the dining room and spacious kitchen. He agreed with Russ that the second floor rooms didn’t need to be completed before they opened for business, but the rooms would be finished soon after.
Russ figured he would close the deal with Mr. Julius that day and was surprised at the twinge of disappointment he felt over the fact that he would no longer be partners with Lydia.
“Impressive.” On the third floor, Mr. Julius inspected the four rooms that each had their own facilities. “The beds look very comfortable. Not lumpy.”
“My partner insisted on stuffing them with Spanish moss. Swears it makes a difference,” Russ said.
“Very smart.”
He examined the wrought iron stair railing on their way back to the first level, again commenting on the fine workmanship.
“Ef made the cookware for the hotel, too.”
They reached the first floor and just as Russ turned to ask Mr. Julius if he’d like to step into his office to talk terms and have a drink, Lydia and Naomi swept in bringing a swirl of cool October air and lavender scent.
“Ladies,” Mr. Julius murmured, removing his bowler hat at the same time Russ removed his Stetson. Interest sparked in the businessman’s eyes as his gaze roved over both women then came back to linger on Lydia.
Knowing the man was going to be spending time with her, Russ didn’t care for that look. His hands fisted on the brim of his hat. “Mr. Julius, this is my partner, Lydia Kent and her friend, Naomi Jones.”
“Your partner?” The man bent low over Lydia’s hand. “Do you live around here, Miss Kent?”
“Yes.” She gave the smile that always grabbed a little bit of Russ every time she used it on him. “I live on the third floor—I’m the hotel manager.”
“Indeed,” the man murmured.
“Russ has probably answered all your questions, but if I can be of help, don’t hesitate to ask.”
The man nodded. His face didn’t change, but Russ felt a sudden tension spring up.
Lydia smiled at both of them. “We won’t keep you from your business.”
She and Naomi swept past them in a soft rustle of skirts, headed toward the kitchen.
He turned back to Mr. Julius. “What about that drink now? I’ve got a good whiskey in my office. We can go there and discuss terms.”
The man looked regretfully around the lobby. “I won’t be buying your share of the hotel, Mr. Baldwin.”
“What?” Completely taken off guard, Russ huffed out a laugh. “I don’t understand. You seemed impressed with everything.”
“I am, very impressed. I think you have a real moneymaker on your hands.”
“Then I don’t follow.”
“I assumed your partner was a man. It never occurred to me to ask.” The man’s gaze leveled into his. “I don’t do business with women, ever.”
Russ was so stunned he couldn’t speak for several seconds. “You don’t—”
“Do business with women.”
He’d caught it the first time. He just couldn’t believe it. “May I ask why?”
“It’s a bad practice. Nothing good can come of it.”
Fighting to keep the astonishment out of his voice, Russ said, “At least half of the ideas you praised are Lydia’s. She is one smart lady.”
“Perhaps.”
“It was her idea to stuff the mattresses with Spanish moss.”
“Hmm.”
“That glass in the third floor windows? I tried for a month to get it delivered. Even the store in Abilene couldn’t get the order. She figured out how to get it and did so in one afternoon. Plus she managed to gain free advertising for the hotel.”
“That’s admirable, but it doesn’t change my mind.”
Frustration churning inside him, Russ shoved a hand through his hair. All he could see was the bank foreclosing on the ranch and him letting Pa down once again.
He struggled to keep his temper in check. “It sure seems shortsighted of you to turn down a profitable business. And it will be profitable. Lydia will be a big part of that.”
“Or she might run it into the ground.”
Russ might not know why she wanted him gone, but he believed she wanted the hotel to succeed as much as he did. And he believed she could make that happen. “She’s got a good head for business.”
“She has a good many things,” the man said suggestively.
Russ stiffened.
The man gave him a pitying look. “You’re probably blinded by her…other good assets, but having been around as long as I have, I can tell you, women don’t do well in business. I’m sorry. I’m no longer interested.”
Russ could argue with the man all day, but he could see Julius’s mind was made up. “I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Maybe so.” The other man shook his head. “I’ll go on over to the stage stand and find out if I can make the return stage to Abilene.”
If he couldn’t, Russ would be happy to get the man out of town himself. He was surprised at how bothered he
was by Julius’s obvious prejudice against Lydia.
The man picked up his valise and walked out to the front porch. Russ put on his Stetson as he followed.
“It’s a fine hotel.” The businessman settled his hat on his head. “I just assumed the other partner was a man. That’s what I get for not asking.”
Russ let that stand, hands braced on his hips as Julius strode away. He’d never heard of anything so ignorant in his life. Lydia might drive him crazy, but he had no doubt her mind was every bit as sharp as his, if not more so. It sure as hell hadn’t been him who’d come up with the idea to search out a man with an unfinished house for glass.
“Is he gone already?” Lydia’s whiskey-and-honey drawl drifted to him from the door. “Did you close the deal?”
Russ turned, thumbing back his hat. “No, not in the end.”
She looked disappointed, which got his back up. Couldn’t she at least try to pretend she didn’t want him gone? He opened his mouth to tell her she was the reason Julius didn’t want to buy into the hotel.
“I’m sorry.” She sounded genuinely concerned. “What are you going to do about your father’s banknote?”
“I’ll just keep advertising. Someone will come along. It’s a sound investment.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to turn over the management of the hotel to me in the meantime? It would free you up to find another buyer.”
“I’m sure.” Why was she so all-fired set on that? Managing a hotel was no easy feat. Any person in their right mind would want help.
She walked back inside with him, her subtle scent stirring his blood. “He’d seemed interested when Naomi and I walked in.”
“I thought so, too.”
“Did he decide not to buy because he heard about the killings in the lobby?”
“No.” Looking down into those velvet eyes, that angel’s face, Russ felt a surge of protectiveness sweep over him. “Just said he wasn’t interested any longer.”
“That’s odd.”
Russ stared at the high crest of her cheekbones, the soft line of a jaw that could turn stubborn in a blink. He knew she had a spine of steel, but right now she looked delicate and vulnerable. “No accountin’ for some men’s tastes.”
