Corsets and Cuffs: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 3)

by Shanna Hatfield

  She held his gaze, her own cool and affronted. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

  Snickers from the deputies made Tully grin. “I never once claimed to be. Now what is in the confounded bag?”

  Miss Dumont cast the deputies a guarded glance before turning back to Tully. “I’d prefer that information remain confidential.”

  “If you want our help in finding your bag, we all need to know what we’re looking for.” Agitated, Tully tapped the pencil again.

  He didn’t know what it was about the woman that rubbed him the wrong direction, but he’d taken a healthy dislike to her the moment he set foot inside his office. Generally, he liked most everyone. A good judge of character, he could easily sift the liars and thieves from folks who were good-hearted.

  Within a few seconds of meeting her, he’d pegged the woman as someone who had secrets and planned to keep them. “What’d you do? Rob a bank? Steal priceless jewels? Hide a murder weapon in your spare bloomers?”

  Miss Dumont sucked in such a large gulp of air that she choked and coughed into a scented handkerchief. Dugan hurried to pour her a cup of water while Seth stepped beside her, waiting to see if he needed to whack her on the back.

  She took the cup from Dugan and sipped the tepid drink then wiped moisture from her eyes.

  Tully didn’t show the slightest hint of sympathy or remorse. “Come on, princess. What else is in that bag?”

  “Corsets,” she whispered.

  “What’d you say?” Tully leaned closer to her again, looking at his two deputies. They’d resumed their post at the desk on the far side of the room, removing the possibility of hearing her whisper.

  Red suffused not only her cheeks, but also her entire face as she forced her gaze to meet Tully’s. “Corsets.”

  For the length of several heartbeats, he stared at her then smiled, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. “If corsets are the thing essential to your livelihood, then I’ll point you in the direction of the Gilded Spur. It’s the nicest brothel in town. Zed’s fair to his girls and he’ll take good care of you. Why didn’t you…”

  “My word!” The woman jumped to her feet and shook a finger in Tully’s face. “How dare you utter such… such… I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life. Do I look like a woman who would… the kind of person that…”

  Tully stood, mostly to keep her from poking his eye with her flailing finger. “Now, ma’am, just settle down. I didn’t mean to imply anything, but you came in here ranting about needing some secretive item from your stolen bag and finally fess up that the item in question is your corset. What other conclusion am I supposed to come to?”

  Slightly mollified by his explanation, she returned to her seat. “The corsets aren’t of exceeding value, but you said you needed a complete list of the contents of the bag. It isn’t proper to speak of such things and that is the reason I hesitated to mention their inclusion in the list of stolen property. There are three corsets in my bag and, um… other personal items such as one might need for a change of clothes.”

  “Bloomers and petticoats I understand, but three corsets? What in tarnation do you need with three corsets?” Tully’s hazel eyes traveled over her with an intense, penetrating perusal. “Appears to me you’ve got one on right now.”

  “Indeed, Sheriff.” Crimson highlights continued to stain her cheeks under his scrutiny. “However, the last item for your list is the five hundred dollars I had hidden in the false bottom of the bag.”

  Softly, Tully whistled then looked at her as if she had rocks rolling around in her head instead of brains. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t carry that kind of cash around with you? Especially in a bag anyone might steal.”

  “Yes, well, I realize now it would have been fortuitous to have carried it on my person, but that is neither here nor there. The money is gone and I’d very much like for it to be retrieved. At the very least, I’d appreciate the return of my belongings. A few items, such as my family Bible, are priceless to me and can’t be replaced.”

  Taken aback by the tears in her eyes and the sincerity in her tone, Tully stood and walked around his desk. “We’ll try to find your bag, Miss Dumont, but I can’t make any promises. If you’ve no objections, Deputy Harter will escort you back to the depot to retrieve your trunk then accompany you to a hotel. I assume you need a place to stay while you’re in town?”

  Barely perceptible, she tipped her head upward in acknowledgement he had assumed correctly.

  “I believe the Hotel Warshauer would be to your liking.” Tully looked to Seth. The deputy nodded in agreement.

  Miss Dumont rose to her feet. “Thank you, Sheriff. I do apologize for taking you away from the nuptial celebration of your friends. Best wishes to the happy couple.”

  Tully’s face appeared impassive. He remained silent as Seth left the office with the maddening, fascinating woman.

  If she wasn’t such a haughty little thing, puffed up with self-importance and a generous helping of exasperation, he might give her a second glance. It was hard to overlook her lovely eyes, golden brown hair, smooth skin, and kissable lips.

  Disturbed by the direction of his thoughts, Tully strode out the door back toward Maggie and Ian’s reception.

  The lingering sting he experienced from the sharpness of Miss Dumont’s tongue strengthened his resolve to avoid her as much as possible until the snippy female left town.

  Chapter Two

  Brianna Dumont sank onto the bed in her hotel room and released a weary sigh.

  Exhausted beyond words, she couldn’t believe someone stole her bag out from under her nose.

  No matter how badly she wanted and needed her bag returned, she didn’t possess a great deal of hope the sheriff would locate it.

  That infuriating man had been less than helpful and incredibly rude. In fact, she’d call him arrogant, irritating, and far too handsome for his own good.

  Why did exceptionally attractive men often come with such a conceited, belligerent attitude?

  She supposed he could say something similar about her. Short-tempered and demanding, she hadn’t made a very good impression on him, the two deputies, or the nitwit ticket agent at the train depot.

  Raised to be a lady, and trained in the finest finishing schools, Brianna knew she’d been difficult. But her entire future rested on finding that bag.

  She removed her hat and tossed it on the bed then unpinned her hair, shaking out her long tresses. The first thing she wanted to do was to take a bath and wash off the nearly two thousand miles of dust and soot from her journey across the country.

  After that, she might think about food unless sleep claimed her first. The train ride from Rhode Island had offered little opportunity for her to rest. She’d kept a vigilant watch over her bag lest anyone try to make off with it.

  Under the pretense of being recently widowed, no one questioned the propriety of her traveling alone. Although she didn’t wear black, she was in mourning and didn’t think anything would ever ease the ache in her heart.

  A determined mental shake scattered her maudlin thoughts as she hastily pinned up her hair and fastened her hat into place.

  After picking up her reticule and locking the door to her room, she hurried down to the front desk.

  A thin young man with pale skin and a bookish demeanor looked up from the paperwork in front of him as she approached. “May I help you, Miss Dumont?”

  She offered him an engaging smile. “Why, yes, Mr. Isaac. Might I inquire if there is a mercantile in town?”

  The young man nodded. “There are three mercantiles, seven grocers, and quite an assortment of other stores, but if you want the best, go to Miller’s Mercantile. He keeps his store stocked with a little of everything and it is good quality. If you go outside and take a right, walk down two blocks, cross the street to your left, and go down one more block to First Street, you can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you, kind sir.” Brianna slid a coin across the marble top of the hotel desk then
rushed outside into the sunshine. She wished she’d had some idea of how horrifically warm it would be in Eastern Oregon. Accustomed to the cooling breezes blowing in from the Atlantic Ocean across Narragansett Bay, the sagebrush-covered hills surrounding Baker City’s valley did nothing to dispel the summer heat.

  Quickly making her way to the mercantile, she opened the door and stepped inside, inhaling the scents of coffee, dill, furniture oil, and something floral that made her smile.

  The store teemed with customers and excited chatter. Many shoppers appeared to be dressed in their best finery. Brianna assumed they were probably guests at the wedding the sheriff seemed so irritable to miss by returning to his office to speak with her.

  She wandered past a display of garden tools and canning jars then made her way through the store to where the items she needed were located.

  Several people smiled and offered her a sociable hello as she made her way down the aisle of the mercantile. Although she did not intend to stay in Baker City, she didn’t wish to offend anyone. The manners instilled in her from an early age enabled her to smile politely and offer appropriate comments when necessary.

  For the most part, the other shoppers left her alone as she studied the selections available in the well-stocked store.

  The clerk at the hotel had been correct in that the mercantile offered a vast array of items. The quality was also acceptable to Brianna’s high standards.

  She picked up a woven basket from a nearby stack and began adding items she needed before she could take a bath.

  When she’d gathered replacements for all the personal items lost with the theft of her bag, she made her way to the front counter where a friendly man rang up purchases and spoke kindly to the customers.

  As she waited in line, Brianna noticed a display of perfume. Much to her delight, she saw a bottle of her favorite French perfume and added it to her basket along with a bar of scented soap, a jar of face cream, and a bottle of hand lotion.

  Mindful of her limited funds, she refused to return the luxury items to the shelf. The perfume and scented soap would remind her of happier times and people she loved while the lotion and cream would be essential in the harsh heat of the area.

  Before she talked herself out of the indulgent purchases, she stepped back in line. Only one more person was ahead of her when she spied a puckish little fellow watching her from around the edge of the long front counter. Blue eyes twinkled from beneath shaggy blond bangs and a dusty flat cap. A sprinkling of freckles marched across a pert nose and a scabbed-over cut decorated a stubborn chin.

  Aware of the child’s stare, Brianna pretended not to notice the boy as she stepped up to the counter.

  “Are you new to the area, miss?” the clerk asked. “My name’s Frank Miller and this is my store.”

  A smile rose to her lips as she greeted the man. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Miller. I’m Miss Dumont and I arrived in town today.”

  “Welcome to Baker City.” Frank gave her a questioning glance. “Have you moved to the area or are you visiting?”

  “I’m only here for a short time on a business matter,” Brianna explained. “An unfortunate loss of my traveling bag left me in need of several items. The front desk clerk at Hotel Warshauer suggested I shop here.”

  “I’ll have to thank Mr. Isaac for the referral. If there is something you need I don’t have in stock, Miss Dumont, please let me know. I’m happy to order anything at all. Most often, it can be here in just a few days. With the train running through daily, we try to offer as many conveniences as some of the bigger cities.”

  Brianna smiled again. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Miller. I do so appreciate your kind offer. If I find myself in need of something unavailable in your fine establishment, I will most certainly inquire about the possibilities of placing an order.”

  Frank Miller grinned. “Do you wish to purchase the basket, Miss Dumont?”

  “I do. I’m also in need of a…” She glanced at the jars of candy on the counter then winked at the child who continued to watch her. A little finger pointed to a glass jar of sassafras drops. “A dozen pieces of those sassafras drops.”

  “Certainly,” Frank said. He scooped the candy into a small paper sack and added it to Brianna’s basket. Abruptly noticing the child hiding at the end of the counter, the storeowner made a shooing motion toward the door. “Sammy, you go on and quit bothering my customers.”

  The child raced out the door, but Brianna caught a glimpse of the boy as he peeked back in the window.

  Frank shook his head. “Don’t mind the little scamp. He doesn’t talk, but he’s a good boy, at least from what I’ve seen.”

  Brianna paid for her purchases and picked up the basket. “Did he suffer from some malady that took his voice?”

  The storeowner shrugged. “Don’t rightly know. He’s been like that since he started coming into my store a few months ago. Only reason I know his name is because he wrote it out for me. Thank you for shopping here, Miss Dumont. I hope you’ll come again.”

  “I’m sure I will, Mr. Miller. Thank you for the excellent service.” Brianna strolled out the door and looked to where she’d last seen Sammy peering inside the store. The boy sat on a wooden bench, observing her.

  With unhurried movements, Brianna took a seat on the end of the bench and set the basket down beside her. Slowly, the child slid closer to her.

  Studying the small face, Brianna guessed the boy to be around six or so. His features were almost delicate enough to be feminine, but the rough and tumble air about him definitely belonged to a rambunctious lad.

  “It seems I purchased far more candy than I can use. Do you think you might be able to take it off my hands?” Brianna held back a laugh as the child’s head bobbed up and down in excitement. She took the small sack of candy from her basket, removed one piece and popped it into her mouth then held out the sack to the boy.

  A grubby little hand reached out for it, but stopped before it connected with the paper. Blue eyes lifted to her in question and she nodded her head reassuringly. “You may take them, just don’t eat them all at once and spoil your dinner.”

  The child smiled broadly and took the sack, stuffing a piece of candy in his mouth. He tucked the sack of candy into the pocket of his short pants then gingerly reached out and patted Brianna’s gloved hand.

  She covered the small fingers with her other hand and smiled. “You’re most welcome, Sammy. Go on, now, and stay out of trouble.”

  Sammy touched the brim of his dusty cap then jumped off the steps and raced down the street, disappearing around the corner.

  Amused by the child, Brianna sucked on the candy and quickly made her way back to the hotel.

  After setting down her basket and reticule, she removed her hat and gloves then went to the private bath in her room and turned on the water to fill the tub. When the deputy carried her trunk to the hotel, she had little expectation of finding somewhere to stay that provided even the most basic comforts. However, the Hotel Warshauer offered luxurious touches that made her appreciate the sheriff recommending she stay there, in spite of his surly behavior.

  Stripping out of her filthy clothes, Brianna took a moment to remove the money she’d stashed in secret pockets inside her petticoats and hid the funds in the pockets of a clean petticoat she pulled from her trunk. There wasn’t more than ten dollars in the bag she lost at the depot. However, she was smart enough to know the sheriff wouldn’t have bothered to look for it at all if she hadn’t stretched the truth to say there was cash inside.

  The bag didn’t have a false bottom, but the hidden contents of the bag were worth thousands of dollars. That was why she hoped and prayed the local members of Baker City’s law enforcement would find the thief and return her bag posthaste.

  Too tired to dwell on the possibilities of what might happen if the bag was never recovered, she sank into the tub with a relieved sigh. After washing her hair and scrubbing every inch of her skin, she leaned back and closed
her eyes, letting the cooling water refresh her.

  When she opened her eyes again, her fingers were as wrinkled as the dried prunes her grandfather used to eat. She stepped out of the tub and dried herself then combed through her hair. In the mirror above the bathroom sink, she rubbed her recently purchased face cream into her cheeks and forehead.

  Unable to think of anything but sleep, she donned a nightgown from her trunk, drew her drapes closed and climbed into the welcoming softness of the bed.

  Bright sunlight danced around the edges of the drapes when she awoke. The air in the room felt stifling and heavy from the heat. Although she’d left the windows open, the heavy fabric of the drapes had blocked much of the breeze.

  Hastily climbing out of bed, Brianna pulled back the drapes. She glanced at the clock on the dresser, shocked to see it was nearly two the following afternoon. Her stomach felt empty and hollow. The realization she’d not only missed lunch and dinner yesterday, but also breakfast and lunch today made her stomach growl.

  Focused on finding sustenance, Brianna hurried into the bathroom and splashed cool water on her face then brushed her teeth with her new toothbrush and powder.

  She grimaced at the snarled state of her hair and spent several minutes combing out the tangles before pinning up the weight of the tresses. Without it holding her body heat against her neck and back, she felt cooler almost instantly.

  Impatient to eat, she opened her trunk and dug through the gowns she’d brought along, selecting a lightweight cotton lawn ensemble in a shade of blue that matched her eyes. She slipped on her shoes, pinned on her hat, and tugged on her gloves. Quickly snatching up her reticule and room key, she rushed out the door.

  Mr. Isaac greeted her with a friendly nod as she approached the front desk.

  “Is the dining room still open?” she asked, hoping it was.

  “They just closed, but they’ll reopen at five for dinner service.” The young man gave her a knowing look. “If you’re looking for a place to find a little something to eat, we have two bakeries. My personal favorite is across the street and down two blocks on the right. They’re open until four.”