Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02]

by Harvest Moon

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Tessa stood near the cot holding a green calico dress and several small white garments clutched against her chest. “I need help with these,” Tessa told him, blushing as she held out the underclothes.

  “Coalie can help you.” David held up the ring of keys, selected the one with her cell number, and unlocked the door.

  “Coalie’s a little boy.”

  “I’m a grown man,” David reminded her.

  “I know,” Tessa agreed. “You know about these things. Coalie doesn’t.” She paused a moment, then shifted the clothing against her so David could see the white laces of the corset.

  “He lived in a saloon,” David said. He couldn’t believe it. She actually thought Coalie had never seen women in underclothes and corsets while living in the Satin Slipper?

  “I kept him away from the other women as much as possible,” Tessa said. “And I made sure he didn’t see…” She blushed even redder and tightened her hold on the clothing.

  “Tessa never let me see her unmentionables,” Coalie told David. “Just dresses and nightgowns. And I only saw her when she was all covered up.”

  “Coalie said you bought these clothes,” Tessa explained to David. “He said you asked for a bonnet, a pair of shoes, a green dress and for all the foundation garments. Including ladies’ unmentionables.”

  “I did.”

  “He knows all about unmentionables,” Coalie piped up, extolling David’s virtues, fascinated with the forbidden topic.

  “Then you should understand why I can’t get dressed without help,” Tessa said to David. “Not if you expect me to wear this.” She nodded toward the dress. “I have to wear a…you know…or the top won’t fit properly.” She lowered the garments and the blanket a fraction so he could see her problem. “Please.”

  She was tall and slender, but well endowed. David realized the dress’s narrow high-necked bodice required a corset. Without the support and the constriction of the foundation garment, he doubted she could get the top fastened all the way. And if she managed to do so, the cotton fabric would cling to her, revealing more than it concealed.

  “Oh.” David managed the one word.

  She needed him to help her dress. She needed him to act as lady’s maid, lacing her corset, tying her petticoats, buttoning the back of her dress. Coalie had selected the green calico because he thought Tessa would like the color. And David had never given it a thought, and his thoughtlessness had come back to haunt him.

  “I’ll see if I can find somebody to help you,” David said.

  “Who?” Tessa asked. “Deputy Harris? Sheriff Bradley?”

  “One of the women in town. Mrs. Bradley, maybe.”

  Tessa looked skeptical. She’d heard part of his conversation with the sheriff, and Coalie had told her the rest. “Please,” she repeated. “I want to leave here.”

  Her wanting to leave the jail was only part of the reason she’d asked for his help, David realized. She understood about the women in town, and somehow she knew they’d judged her and found her guilty. He admired her courage and her stubborn pride.

  “All right. I’ll do it,” David said suddenly, knowing there was never really any doubt. He’d managed to undress her. He ought to be able to dress her, despite the strain on his nerves. “Coalie,” he said to the boy, “go up front and wait in the sheriff’s office. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Coalie looked to Tessa.

  “Do as he says,” she reassured Coalie. “I’ll be there in a minute. And, Coalie, don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”

  David wasn’t as confident. He had the feeling his life was changing beyond recognition. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the cell and stepped inside.

  Tessa waited until Coalie closed the door leading to the sheriff’s office behind him. Dropping the blanket and the clothes on the cot, she turned her back to David and reached for a long white chemise.

  A gentleman would have looked away, but David forgot about being a gentleman. He forgot the niceties. She was a beautiful woman dressed in the heavy black silk stockings he’d bought her, pantalets, and her new shoes. He studied her legs that seemed to go on forever—right up to the soft white skin of her back and the delicate outline of her spine. As he stared at the graceful curve of her back for the second time in one day, David wondered what the hell was he going to do with Tessa Roarke?

  Chapter Three

  “Stay close to me. We have to pass by the Satin Slipper. My office is a few doors beyond it.” David Alexander moved a step closer to Tessa, inclined his head and spoke near her ear. “I worked hard to build my practice and my reputation here in Peaceable, and I’d like to avoid trouble.” Silently he added, And the possibility of a nice juicy scandal.

  Tessa shivered. She could feel his warm breath caressing her, feel his hand comforting her as it rested lightly against the small of her back, holding her within reach as they walked down the sidewalk.

  He’d just warned her that he didn’t want trouble. Well, neither did she, and there wouldn’t be any as long as Myra Brennan agreed to return Tessa’s things. But if Myra didn’t cooperate, all hell was liable to break loose. Biting her lip to keep from speaking her mind, Tessa marched on, dressed in her new green calico dress and matching bonnet, ignoring the censorious looks in the eyes of the curious spectators.

  She felt the stares of the people burning into her back as she passed, heard the growing rumble of voices gossiping about her, judging her. But Tessa didn’t falter. She wouldn’t allow the people of Peaceable to see her nervousness. She kept her head up, her eyes forward, and her back rigid as she passed through Peaceable’s muddy streets. She raised her chin a notch higher as they approached the Satin Slipper Saloon. Several scantily clad saloon girls, former acquaintances, lingered in the doorway, whispering. Three of the upstairs girls had wrapped themselves in blankets and braved the bitter cold wind to stand on the balcony. Tessa wondered which one was the new occupant of her room and the owner of her personal possessions. The thought brought a spurt of anger. Tessa clenched her gloved fists.

  Coalie moved closer to Tessa’s side, carefully matching his steps to hers before grabbing hold of her hand. She unclenched her fist as Coalie slipped his hand into hers. She gave his smaller hand a tiny squeeze of encouragement.

  “Murderess!” Myra Brennan, owner of the Satin Slipper, stood on the boardwalk blocking their path.

  Tessa started at the unexpected attack, half turning to face her accuser.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her,” David instructed. “Chin up, eyes forward. Pretend she isn’t there.”

  “Murderess!” The accusation was louder this time and the saloon girls joined in, echoing their employer.

  Tessa turned to David. He read the anger burning in the depths of her big blue eyes.

  “Don’t say anything,” he warned. “Just look straight ahead.” His fingers tightened on her elbow as he spoke. “Trust me. I’ll handle this. I’ll take care of you.” As soon as he said the words, David knew they were true. He understood that Tessa Roarke could take care of herself, but he wanted, needed, to do it. He wanted to take care of her.

  Myra Brennan took a step forward.

  Tessa held her ground.

  David inhaled, steeling himself for the confrontation, knowing it could get ugly. The mood of the crowd could easily change from curiosity to anger. David released Tessa’s elbow and stepped forward. As he did so, David noticed that Coalie had let go of Tessa’s hand and moved to stand in front of her.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Brennan.” David tipped his hat and smiled his most disarming smile.

  “What’s good about it, lawyer man?” The saloonkeeper’s carefully painted face was a mask of outrage and betrayal. “Certainly not you taking the side of trash!”

  David continued to smile. “Every man and woman,” he said, nodding toward Tessa, “is entitled to the best defense possible.”

  “And people tel
l me you’re the best,” Myra drawled. “At lawyering. At everything. But I wouldn’t know.”

  David looked at Myra Brennan. She had once been a very lovely woman, but the ravages of time, late nights, liquor, and too many men had left their marks on her face, dulled her brown eyes, and coarsened her pale complexion. David softened his gaze, trying not to show his distaste as he looked at her. “Myra, you know a man in my position can’t afford to play favorites. I treat everyone equally.”

  One of the saloon girls gasped at his words. He’d clearly insulted her. David Alexander uttered those words to Myra Brennan each time she approached him. Nearly every person at the Satin Slipper knew of Myra’s weakness for the handsome lawyer. The lady saloonkeeper had never made a secret of her desire to have the half-breed attorney in her bed.

  Myra didn’t give up easily. “She’s dirty Irish trash. She killed Arnie!”

  David struggled to contain his temper. “She’s no dirtier than the rest of us.” David turned from Myra to face the people crowding around, who were avidly listening to the confrontation. “And the law says she’s innocent until proven guilty.” He turned back to Myra, but this time David didn’t smile or try to hide his distaste. “Good day, Miss Brennan.” He tipped his hat once again in a gesture of dismissal.

  “Always fightin’ for the helpless, eh, lawyer man?” Myra smiled at David as she moved closer. She caressed him, trailing the tip of a red-painted fingernail along his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and the curve of his full lower lip.

  David didn’t move. Myra’s hand brushed over his lip again. The lace of her cuff touched his chin. Resisting the urge to brush her hand away, David concentrated on the fine bones of her wrist. An angry red welt encircled it, marring the porcelain perfection of her skin. He forced himself not to smile. It wasn’t like Myra to reveal imperfections, even slight imperfections.

  “Well, I say, the helpless be damned and the trash, too.” Myra leaned closer to David until her lips were almost touching his. “What do you say to that, lawyer man?”

  David stepped back, away from the predatory female, away from the musky scent of her, which irritated his sensitive nostrils. “I hope you never become one of the helpless, Myra.”

  Tessa stood rigidly viewing the distasteful scene, her anger mounting with every second. She ached to step between David Alexander and the saloonkeeper and to shove the older woman’s hands away. She could feel the tension between them. It was so thick she could almost taste it. Tessa ground her teeth in an attempt to control her temper and avoid trouble.

  She waited for long moments until David stepped away from the saloonkeeper. She felt his hand on her arm as he urged her forward. Tessa stared at a point above Myra’s head, willing herself to ignore the woman. But she couldn’t ignore Myra’s triumphant, knowing smile. Tessa knew it meant that Myra had won. And that she wouldn’t get her belongings back.

  Tessa saw her opportunity and took it. She jerked out of David’s grasp, slipped past Myra, and dashed into the Satin Slipper.

  “Stop her!” Myra yelled to the bartender once she realized Tessa’s intent.

  David knew immediately where Tessa was headed. He took off after her, but the barkeep beat him to the stairs. They raced each other to the top with David trailing a step behind the bartender, Liam Kincaid.

  On the landing David collided with one of Myra’s girls coming down the stairs. He stumbled backward, allowing Liam to gain another step on him.

  Tessa grasped the doorknob of her former room, turned it, and flung open the door.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Liam gripped her arm above the elbow.

  Tessa whirled around. “Take your filthy hands off me, you rogue!” She swung her free arm at Liam’s head. He ducked just in time.

  “What the hell?” Liam asked, bewildered by Tessa’s reaction.

  “Let go of me.” She spat the words at him. “Don’t touch me!”

  David rounded the corner and grabbed Tessa about the waist. “I’ve got her.” He turned toward Tessa, his face mirroring his fury. “Calm down.”

  Liam let go of Tessa, then stepped back out of the way.

  Tessa nearly shouted again in frustration. “I want my mother’s rosary back! I want my phot—my things!”

  “I know you do,” David told her, “and we’ll get them, but I shouldn’t have let you come here. We’ll get your things back a different way.”

  “They belong to me. She has no right.” Tessa squirmed in David’s arms.

  Myra Brennan stood just below the landing. “I have every right,” she said, “to take my share of your earnings.”

  “I paid my rent.” Tessa glared at the older woman.

  “You had a man in your room,” Myra reminded her. “Last night. I get a share of those earnings, too.”

  “Running a lewd house, Myra?” David asked. “You know that’s illegal.”

  “I just rent the rooms, lawyer man. Who the girls see and what they do is their business. But it’s only fair that I charge for overnight visitors. The hotel does.”

  Tessa felt David Alexander’s body stiffen momentarily in reaction to Myra’s words before he moved away from her. He released his hold on Tessa’s waist, grasping her arm instead. It was the only place he touched her.

  She looked from David to Myra. “I didn’t invite anyone into my room.”

  “He was there,” Myra said with finality. “That’s all that matters.”

  “I don’t go with the men.” Tessa’s gaze darted back to David Alexander. “Myra knows that!” She looked from Myra to Liam. “Both of you know it. Please, tell Mr. Alexander!”

  David gritted his teeth, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he sought to keep a rein on his rising temper. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, pulling Tessa toward him, then leading her back down the stairs. They had drawn a crowd. Just what David had hoped to avoid.

  “What do you mean, ‘It doesn’t matter’?” Tessa demanded. “It matters to me.”

  David’s reply was scathing as he gazed at her. “I can tell.” He indicated the curious spectators avidly eyeing the confrontation. “Satisfied?” he asked. “All you had to do to avoid this was follow my instructions.”

  Tessa’s temper flared under his verbal assault, but she fought back the biting words that were on the tip of her tongue.

  “What did I tell you, lawyer man?” Myra called as David led Tessa down the street, Coalie close behind. “Irish trash.”

  * * *

  David unlocked the door of his office with undisguised relief. He’d managed to cool his temper during the walk to his office, but it was still simmering beneath his calm surface. David opened the door and ushered his charges inside, closing the door behind them.

  Tessa stepped inside and looked around. Compared to the room she and Coalie had occupied for the past five weeks, David’s office and living quarters seemed enormous. Tessa gravitated toward the potbellied stove, and Coalie hurried to stoke up the fire. The coal bin was nearly empty. Coalie grabbed the bucket and started toward the door at the back of the office, which opened into the alley.

  “I think I’m entitled to some answers,” David said, his attention drawn to the stove and to Tessa.

  Two pairs of eyes looked up at him. Tessa’s blue ones were cautious, guarded, but Coalie’s huge emerald-green eyes were shining.

  “From you.” He pointed at Tessa, taking care to exclude Coalie. David removed the key to the coal box from a nail near the door and handed it to Coalie. “You did well out there in front of the crowd.” He patted the boy on the shoulder as Coalie headed outside to get more coal. Then he turned to speak to Tessa. “You should have followed my instructions.”

  Tessa, busy removing David’s oversized coat, froze at his words. “Why should I?” She looked at David as if he’d suddenly sprouted horns.

  “Because you need me,” David replied. “You need me to defend you.”

  “That’ll be the day.” She dropped his coat into the nearest chair, then made a sho
w of wiping her hands on her skirt as if his garment had soiled them.

  David frowned, glancing out the window to make sure Coalie was out of earshot before he answered. He thought about lying to reassure her, then decided to tell her the truth. “It is the day. The evidence I’ve gathered so far is damaging, but at least it’s mostly circumstantial.”

  It was Tessa’s turn to frown. “Circumstantial? What does that mean, Mr. Alexander?” Her haughty manner was back.

  “It means. Miss Roarke,” David began, moving to stand in front of her. He halted, losing his train of thought. Her eyes were on a level with his mouth. Funny, he hadn’t noticed that in jail. She had seemed smaller and maybe a bit more vulnerable sitting rigidly on the hard cot. But she damn near matched him in height as well as obstinacy. “It means,” he repeated, “that on the surface of this investigation, you look guilty as sin.”

  Tessa faced off with her attorney. “What about below the surface?”

  David shrugged, then walked to his desk, sat down in the comfortable leather chair, and rested his elbows on the blotter, his long fingers forming a steeple against his full lower lip. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  It was tempting. Tessa wavered a moment, torn between self-preservation and an even greater need to protect a defenseless nine-year-old boy. She wanted to tell David Alexander her side of the story and be done with it. But to do so would endanger Coalie. She couldn’t take that risk unless she knew she could trust David with the information.

  “You might as well tell me now,” David said quietly watching the changing expressions on her face as she pondered the situation. “Telling me the truth is the price you’re going to have to pay to stay here under my protection.”

  Tessa turned back to the stove and began to warm her hands. “Nothing changes.” Her voice was soft but laced with bitterness. “Everything has a price.”

  “That’s right, Tessa. When you cause a scandal, you pay the price. My price is the truth.”

  “I didn’t kill Arnie Mason,” Tessa said. “That’s the truth.”