The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by James, Sandy

  “Of course he still wants to take you, silly. He thought you’d like a dress of your own, not one of Mama’s hand-me-downs. He couldn’t find any really pretty material here in town, and he had some business in Helena. He bought the satin there.”

  She shouldn’t take this gift. It was too personal. She didn’t want to take advantage of him. And Susan hadn’t sewn in years. She’d learned how back in junior high when her hometown had been conservative enough to force all the girls to take sewing class. Satin was a tough fabric that showed every mistake if a person screwed anything up. A bad stitch. A pulled thread. A crooked seam. “I don’t have any notions to make a dress. Or a pattern for that matter.”

  “I’ve got plenty of patterns, and Mrs. Neal stocks thread, pins, anything you need. Just take yourself down to the store and get what you want. I’ll head back to the Circle M and fetch my patterns. If you’ve got time, we could get quite a bit of work done this afternoon.”

  It was a kind offer, but working on the dress would mean Susan would have to give up the time she normally spent every afternoon looking for that flippin’ rock. She knew her searches had become an obsession. The longer it took her to find the cursed stone, the longer it would take to get back home to her kids.

  Daniel had gone to so much trouble she decided she would take the time to sew the dress. Even if she wished deep down inside that another man was escorting her. No, she would go with Daniel Miller. He at least cared about her and didn’t flaunt a teenager around as his new girlfriend. “Fine. Meet me back here after lunch?”

  “After lunch.” Abigail scooted out of the Golden Nugget fast, as though someone had lit a fire under her.

  James walked into the bar, nursing a mug of coffee. He inclined his head at the fabric. “What’s that?”

  “A gift.” Susan wrapped the package back up and worried about where to store it so it wouldn’t get soiled.

  “A gift?” He snorted a laugh. “Let me guess. From Saint Daniel. Right?”

  Like she’d answer such a snide question. When he reached out to touch it, Susan dropped her hands on the package and slid it further away.

  “Well? What is it?”

  “Fabric.”

  “Fabric? What are you supposed to do with it? You don’t know how to sew.”

  She gave him a coy smile. He didn’t know her as well as he had always liked to think. A few surprises still hid up her sleeve.

  “What?”

  “I know how to sew.” It had been one of her favorite things to do until her senior year of high school when she had too many other activities to consume her life. How delicious having James off balance. After so many years together, surprises kept things from going stale. But their marriage hadn’t been stale. Not until their baby died. Then their marriage became sullen and silent, both of them too lost in their own lives to share their grief. At least now they were talking.

  It was a start.

  “You do?”

  All she did was nod.

  His face took on a pensive air. “You’re full of weird surprises lately, aren’t you?”

  Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. Why did it seem that everything he said hit her like an insult? Yes, she wanted surprises, but not weird surprises. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  James took another sip of his coffee and shrugged.

  “Why does my sewing surprise you?”

  “I thought you were all about women’s rights. When did you learn to sew?”

  “Before I was all about women’s rights. Junior high, actually.”

  Inclining his head at the package, he asked again, “What are you supposed to do with that?”

  Susan really didn’t think it was any of his business, but she knew James would keep after her like a hound after a meaty bone if she didn’t answer. “I’m supposed to make a dress with it.”

  “For that damned dance, right?”

  Turning on her heel, Susan headed toward the front doors.

  James knew he’d said the wrong thing. Again. Damn it, but instead of controlling the jealousy, the jealousy seem to constantly control him. The emotion was too new, too foreign. He’d never had to compete for Susan before, and now that Daniel was hanging around giving her so much attention, he wasn’t sure he could win.

  Dying of curiosity, he put down his coffee cup and followed. “Where you going?”

  She just kept walking, pushed the doors open a little harder than necessary, and headed up the wooden boardwalk.

  After he dodged the swinging doors, James fell in step beside her. Maybe this time he’d find out exactly where she disappeared to every day.

  Skidding to a stop, Susan whirled around to face him and frowned. “Why are you following me?”

  “Nothing better to do.”

  Frustration turned her face red. “Don’t you have to wash the glasses and restock the bar?”

  “I’ll get it done before we open.”

  When she turned and took a step, she plowed right into the town marshal. “I’m so sorry.”

  The marshal narrowed his beady little eyes at Susan. He didn’t smell a whole lot better than he had at their last meeting. Hadn’t shaved, either.

  “She been drinking again?” he said, directing the comment at James. “’Spose that’s what you get for letting her work at the Golden Nugget. Once a lush, always a lush.” He shook his head. “And divorced, no less. Why, we oughta run her right outta town. Maybe even tar and feather her to teach her a lesson, keep other womenfolk from following her sinful path. Nothing but a Jezebel.”

  Glancing over her shoulder as if to ask his tacit permission, Susan waited a few heartbeats until James nodded. He saw the explosion in her brown eyes and knew what was coming. He couldn’t say he blamed her. What happened next was sure to be fodder for River Bend’s gossips for a long, long time. Susan set her fists against her hips and launched into the marshal with one of her “teacher” lectures.

  She started out the way James had seen her before, usually at events like school dances when a student or two decided to act up. She enlightened the offender as to what was considered proper behavior and what wasn’t. Simple enough. No, it wasn’t what she said. It was the way she said it. The woman could freeze a person into a statue with words.

  Watching her, he felt pride swell in his chest. The marshal had done nothing but insult her since they’d come to this little town. James had grown to hate the times the marshal came to the saloon. Most of the men shunned him because they couldn’t stand the man’s body odor and his incessant need to gossip like some old busybody.

  Several times, Susan punctuated her words with an intimidating step forward. Clearly terrified of the hurricane that could be Susan, the smelly little man always retreated a step back. A small crowd began to gather to witness her scolding and their little impromptu dance. That wasn’t a surprise. What did come as a surprise were the nods, murmurs, and small burst of applause that followed some of her words. Susan seemed so well occupied with giving the man a good tongue-lashing that she probably never noticed the townsfolk’s approval.

  She was hoarse by the time she finished. As she tried to step around the cowering marshal, she almost walked into the owner of the town’s livery. With an apology, she started walking up the boardwalk again.

  James hustled after her. How could he not follow?

  * * * *

  Abigail had made it all the way to where the road hit the bend in the river before she realized her patterns were stored in her mother’s trunk—the same trunk her father had gifted Susan with before he’d left for Helena.

  Reining Rose into a tight turn, she headed back to the Golden Nugget. At least now they would have another good hour or so to put some work in on the dress.

  She’d have to go back into the saloon. What would people think of her going in and out of the Golden Nugget like some woman of ill repute?

  No, Abigail wasn’t a woman of ill repute. Neither was Susan. The time had come to show some of t
hat fabled Miller courage. After all, Susan not only went into the saloon, she lived there. Sang there too and still held her head high.

  Abigail tied Rose to the hitching post and walked back through the swinging doors with as much bravado as she could muster despite the fact Madalyn and Hila glared at her from across the street. Those nosy, old ladies needed to learn to mind their own business.

  “Abigail!” Caroline practically squealed. “I’m so glad to see you!”

  Abigail hurried to her friend to give her a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re back from St. Louis. I’m sorry I haven’t been by to visit more often.”

  Caroline gave her hand a quick flip. “I understand. You’ve got your dad and the boys to take care of.”

  “Has Hank been into town to see you?” The tightening in Caroline’s face took her by surprise. “Aren’t you still sweet on Hank? He missed you something fierce. Hardly ate for a week, the boy was so lovesick.”

  “Yes, yes,” Caroline replied with a dismissive flip of her hand. “I’ve always loved Hank. But…have you met the new bartender?”

  Abigail shook her head. “Not yet. Isn’t he the one who stayed at the boarding house with…Wasn’t he…involved with Susan Hollis?”

  “Was. Was involved.”

  Knowing Caroline as well as she did, Abigail understood exactly what her friend wasn’t saying. “You like him.”

  “I love him.”

  She’d heard that from Caroline before about more boys than she could count. “What about Hank? He’s in love with you.”

  “I know,” Caroline replied with a wistful sigh. “But James is so…perfect.”

  “If you say so.” Poor Hank was going to get his heart broken by Caroline. Again. The two had been close before Caroline had been sent to the girls’ school in Missouri. Once she returned, Hank rode into town often to see her. And he usually came back the next morning. The two were hardly discreet. The only person who didn’t seem to know about their relationship was Li’l Jim. If he found out, Hank would find himself standing next to Caroline and facing Reverend Charles at the point of a shotgun.

  Caroline had evidently set her cap for a new beau without a thought about Hank. Abigail frowned at her, wishing her friend wasn’t so fickle. “Isn’t he too old for you?”

  “He’s going to marry me.” Caroline moved over to the bar to look at the package Susan had left behind. “What’s this?”

  “It’s for Susan. My dad sent it so she could make a dress for the harvest dance. Aren’t you going with Hank?”

  Peeling back the brown paper, Caroline frowned. “I was. But I’d rather go with Big Jim.”

  “Caroline, what about Hank?”

  “He’s a boy.” She gave Abigail a saucy smile. “I need a man.” Smoothing her hand over the satin, she asked, “Is your father taken with Susan? He’s here almost every night. At least he was until the last couple of days.”

  “He was on a trip. And, yes, he’s taken with her. I think it might be more than that. I think he might love her.” It felt good to say it aloud, and Abigail realized how much she needed someone to confide in. “I was so worried after Mama died. I didn’t think he’d ever stop mourning.”

  Caroline kept stroking the fabric like she might a cat. “But he’s not still sitting around and stewing now? You know, not still mourning? He’s ready for a new woman in his life, right?”

  Having grown used to Caroline’s bluntness from the time they’d been friends in school, Abigail didn’t take offense to the comment. “Susan helped him. I’m not sure what she said or what she did, but she helped him.”

  Turning back to face Abigail, Caroline smiled. Abigail recognized that smile. Caroline was definitely up to something. As usual. “Will he offer for her?”

  The answer didn’t require deep thought. “Yes, I reckon he will.” The more she considered it, the surer she became.

  “Then we can kill two birds with one stone.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Caroline didn’t reply because she’d lost herself in thought so deeply Abigail could almost see the thoughts churning in her head. Whenever her friend got that look, it usually meant trouble.

  A smile grew on Caroline’s lips. “We’ll get your dad to marry Susan. Then James will marry me.”

  “It’s not that simple, Caroline. Daddy might not be ready yet. And how do you even know James would marry you?”

  “We’ve grown very…close.”

  “As…close as you and Hank?” Abigail felt her face flush in response to her own embarrassing question.

  “We will be.” That damned smile again. “We could help each other out, you know. We can help your dad, too.”

  “My father?” Abigail knew she should turn around and walk out—run out—before Caroline dragged her into another brilliant and possibly disastrous plan. Her love for her father was all that kept her rooted to the spot.

  When they were ten, Caroline had decided it would be fun to scare the teacher on Halloween. It sounded like a good idea at the time. Didn’t all of Caroline’s schemes seem that way? They sure hadn’t intended for the candles to set the curtains on fire. The whole town had pitched in to rebuild the burned cottage. After Daniel had tanned her behind, Abigail hadn’t sat comfortably for days.

  God, she hated that coy smile. She hated even more that she would stay and listen because her father’s happiness might depend on what Caroline had to say.

  Twirling one long, blonde curl around her finger, Caroline thought aloud. “We can kill two birds with one stone if we can get your father together with Susan.”

  “You mean get him to marry her, don’t you?”

  Caroline’s response was an enthusiastic nod.

  “And if Susan is married to Daddy—”

  “Big Jim can marry me.”

  As if the whole thing could be that easy. Abigail would have been happy just to see her father smile again, and she’d never thought he’d consider taking another wife. At least she’d never thought that until Susan Hollis had come into his life. After only a few days, he’d changed. Not that her father would ever wallow in his sorrow. Yet now he seemed so much more at ease, and he finally smiled again.

  Abigail knew she’d probably live to regret it. God knew she’d regretted a lot of other things she’d done with Caroline. But she made a choice. “What do you need me to do?”

  * * * *

  Later that evening, Caroline drew lazy circles with her fingertips, ruffling the small patch of dark hair on Hank’s chest. She and Abigail had made some wonderful plans, but the two women alone clearly weren’t going to be enough to hatch her whole plot. She needed Hank and Cain’s help, too.

  “Stop that, Carrie,” Hank said, pressing her palm flat against his chest. “You know I need to leave soon. Don’t go stirrin’ me up again.”

  She rolled on top of him and rested her chin on her hands. “I don’t want you to leave, sugar. We still need to talk about Daniel.”

  Hank’s whole body stiffened. “I don’t like your idea much. You and Abigail are plumb loco to think we’d help you.”

  “But it’s for Daniel. He’s like a father to you, remember?” She batted her eyelashes and then kissed his chest, trying to distract him. “He brought you and Cain here when you were nothing but little orphan boys.”

  “Like you have to remind me. I’d probably be dead or still living on the streets if it weren’t for Daniel.”

  “Well, then.” Rolling back to her side, she let her finger trace the line of brown hair from his chest toward his groin. He pushed her hand flat when she reached the firm muscles of his stomach. “All we want is for you and Cain to give us a hand. All you’ve gotta do is get Big Jim out of the way until the dance is over and Daniel gets Susan to the preacher.”

  Hank turned his head to stare into her eyes. She tried to look innocent, hoping he wouldn’t see right through her. Without his help, the plan wouldn’t work.

  A moment of guilt swept over her. She brushed it aside. Sh
e loved Hank. Deep down, she really did, but he offered her no future. He would likely stay tied to River Bend and the Circle M for the rest of his life. The boredom would kill her. She wanted Big Jim because he could take her back to Chicago and away from this dreary little hellhole of a town. And Caroline always got what she wanted. Always.

  “Daniel seems to be doing a fine job winning her over without our help. We shouldn’t be butting our noses into their business.”

  “You haven’t seen them together.”

  “Daniel and Susan?”

  She breathed an annoyed sigh. Her favorite cowboy could be really dense sometimes. “No, silly. Big Jim and Susan. Daniel needs to do something and right quick or he’s gonna lose her. Didn’t you say she made him smile again? Think he’ll be smiling when she runs off with Big Jim?”

  He grunted. Her fingers started to move again, tickling lower and lower until she reached her goal. Finding him hard and hearing the hiss of breath when she wrapped her fingers around his erection, she knew she’d won.

  Chapter 15

  James poured the whiskey and slid the shot glass down the bar. It came to rest in front of the customer without a single drop spilling. He smiled at his accuracy. God, how he loved this job.

  Then he saw Susan. Dressed in her red satin and lace, she stopped to talk to a few customers before sitting down at the piano and singing a song. A frown bowed his lips. There wasn’t a man in the enormous room who wasn’t gawking at her, probably thinking about what they could do to win her favor. Li’l Jim had been keeping track of how many marriage proposals she’d received. Had all those men been serious? They didn’t even know her.

  At least Saint Daniel hadn’t proposed. Yet.

  If he did, what would Susan reply?

  After she’d finished lecturing the marshal that afternoon, an exercise that had drawn a smattering of applause from several of the townsfolk she’d probably been too pissed off to hear, James followed her to Neal and Sons. Not exactly where he’d expected to her go. No illicit tryst with Daniel. No sneaking away to spend time with one of the men who frequented the Golden Nugget. Just a boring errand. She’d purchased thread, needles, and scissors. Everything she needed to make that damned dress for that damned dance.