She’d never put much thought into the type of luxurious life Bea was accustomed to as a banker’s wife. Even the Talbots’ temporary residence while their new house was under construction was much nicer than anyplace Dinah had lived. She might’ve been intimidated by Bea’s wealth, if not for the fact Bea was genuinely sweet, fun to be around and the schemer of outrageous ideas that had not come to fruition, thank goodness.
Dinah still hoped to talk her friend out of the plan she’d concocted of dressing up for a ladies’ night dinner at a restaurant in Sundance. During her years in Cheyenne, Dinah had dined out with her parents, but she hadn’t enjoyed it. She remembered the food being weird and a meal taking forever. So she hadn’t sought out dining experiences in Sundance.
“All right,” Bea said, reentering her room, her arms piled high with garments. “Andrew bought these for me this spring when he had business in Chicago. Apparently these are all the rage among women in cities.”
Bea tossed a bronze-colored bundle of fabric on the bed. She held up a black, bell-shaped skirt at her waistline. The billowing layers with a satin sheen changed the fabric from black to silvery gray. “What do you think?”
The skirt stopped mid-shin. “Are you adding a fabric underlay? Because as is, it’s much too short.”
She laughed. “Oh, that’s not the most shocking feature. Watch.” She ran her hand down the center of the skirt and midway it separated into two pieces, like men’s trousers.
“Bea! Why are you showing me your bedclothes?”
“I’m not. These were designed for women’s bicycle riding. See? When you’re walking down the street they look like a normal skirt. But when you want to ride…voila! You can sit on the bicycle seat without having to yank up your skirt. Isn’t it the cleverest thing?”
“It is,” she admitted. Then she studied Bea. “I didn’t know you had a bicycle.”
“I don’t. But these are perfect for horses too.” She reached over and plucked up the bronze material, holding one skirt in each hand. “Which one do you want to wear tonight?” Bea gave her a once over. “The bronze for you, I think, since you’re wearing brown boots.”
“Beatrice Talbot. I am not wearing something like that out in public!”
“Yes you are. We both are. And we will be the absolute talk of the town.”
That’s what Dinah was afraid of.
“But…”
Bea dropped the clothes and snatched Dinah’s hands. “Please? As a favor to me?”
“Tell me why this is so important to you.”
“Because after the bank is built and our house is done…I’ll be expected to act in the manner that’s appropriate for a banker’s wife. Not to mention how staid and upstanding I’ll have to appear when children start arriving.” Bea squeezed her fingers. “Now that you’re betrothed, you needn’t worry about a single night of mischief harming your chances of finding a suitable husband. We can have this one evening of fun and thumb our noses at anyone’s disapproval. Plus, won’t it be a hoot to show up in such fashionable clothes that no other woman is bold enough to wear? Can you imagine the looks on the faces of the ladies who’ve been condescending to both of us?”
Her friend did have a point.
“And the best part? If our men feel the need to chastise us for our behavior, we’ll blame it on too much whiskey. Because isn’t that what they’re allowed to do?”
Dinah laughed. “You are taking that ‘what’s good for the goose is good for the gander’ argument to the extreme. But you’re right.” She paused, her pulse racing at what she was about to suggest. “I have one request, however, if we are going for the shock factor.”
“Name it. Anything.”
“I want to attend the burlesque show at Timson’s.”
Bea let out a peal of laughter. “The prim schoolteacher has a wicked side. I knew it!”
For once, Dinah did feel wickedly carefree. She picked up the bronze skirt. “I do think this one is more suited to my coloring. Do you have a corset and a jacket I can borrow?”
They finished the entire bottle of plum wine as they finished dressing.
It was so much easier to ride a horse in a bicycle skirt. It sent Dinah’s thoughts into how she could convert one of her own skirts into something similar.
After leaving their horses at the livery, Dinah and Bea strolled arm in arm through town. By the time they’d reached the baseball field, they’d caused quite a stir. Not only were people gaping at the split in their skirts, their short jackets were unbuttoned to show a glimpse of their beribboned corsets.
They delighted in drinking a mug of ale and predicting who’d approach them first.
Bea was so sugary sweet to Esther McCrae and her friend Antonia Gladswell, whose father owned the established bank in town, that Dinah wondered if honeybees were buzzing around them.
Since the baseball game held little interest for them, they left early and strolled down the shops on Sundance’s main street. A few people even stepped out of the stores after they passed by—Dinah felt their stares, mostly focused on the fact they could see the tops of her boots since her skirt stopped below the knee.
Pettyjohn’s restaurant had reserved a table for them in the back. The menu offered more recognizable dishes than the restaurants her parents’ had frequented in Cheyenne. Dinah chose a lamb chop with mint jelly and roasted potatoes and an orange egg cream to drink.
With Bea’s lively conversation, Dinah didn’t mind that the meal stretched out. They’d just finished their dessert course, cups of warm chocolate and a caramel torte, when Bea noticed a commotion among the employees, and she wasn’t shy about asking what had them all a-titter.
The young female server was eager to gossip. “You know there’s gamblin’ upstairs?”
Bea nodded as if she was aware but that was news to Dinah.
“There’s some kind of poker tournament. Right now, the two men playin’ against each other ain’t doin’ it for a money prize.”
“Whatever are they playing for?” Bea asked.
“A fancy fella wagered a land deed. The other cowboy fella offered his betrothed.”
A gasp from Bea. “What! You’re sure he wagered a person?”
“Oh, oops sorry, no. The cowboy offered to break up with his girlfriend and never see her again. Ain’t that just something? Everyone is talkin’ about it. I mean everyone. I’d hate to be the lady whose intended wagered his life with her against a piece of land.” She flitted off, shaking her head.
Dinah had gone still, her cup stopped halfway to her mouth as she stared at the server’s back.
“Dinah? Darling, whatever is the matter?”
She slammed her teacup into the saucer. “She’s talking about me, Bea.”
“Oh pooh.” Bea flapped her napkin. “The monthly tournament with the unusual wagers is old news at Pettyjohn’s Saloon. Andrew and I have laughed about some of them.”
“You’re not hearing me.” She paused and leaned in. “I told you about the bad blood between Zeke West and Silas. What I haven’t told you—or anyone—is that Zeke came to see me last week.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Alone?”
Dinah nodded.
“What did he want?”
“For me to spend one night with him in exchange for the land deed that he knew Silas wanted.”
She gasped.
“I refused. I knew if I told Silas about West’s offer—not just the bedding me part but the land purchase part—he’d go after Zeke and they’d end up brawling. I’d hoped by not telling Silas anything that Zeke would drop it and that’d be the end of it, but apparently it was just the beginning.”
“Dinah. What are you going to do?”
“Wait until the game is over. Then I’ll know which one of those bastards I’ll deal with first.”
When the server returned, Bea explained the situation and why they needed to know the outcome of the wager. Upon hearing this, the server brought them each a double shot of whiskey in a teacup—
her version of tea and sympathy, apparently.
A raucous roar sounded above them, indicating the game upstairs had ended.
Normally Dinah would’ve shrank with embarrassment at being the topic of such gossip among the kitchen staff, the other restaurant patrons and the gentlemen upstairs watching the card game. But tonight, she burned with fury. She would not suffer this humiliation in silence.
The server’s tentative approach to the table sent Dinah’s heart pounding. “Ah…it appears the cowboy fella won the game.” She grinned. “So he got the land and you.”
“I guess we’ll see about that, won’t we?”
Bea snickered.
Dinah offered the server a smile. “Would it be possible for someone to deliver a note to the cowboy fella upstairs?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll bring you paper and a pencil.”
After the server left, Bea said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No. But it wasn’t a good idea for him to offer me up like livestock either.”
Sighing, Bea signaled for more “tea.”
Dinah scrawled her message, folded the paper in half and handed it to the cook who’d appeared.
“Do you want to head back to my house after this and forego the show at Timson’s?”
“Absolutely not. We are going to that show.” She lifted her cup to Bea’s. “Besides, you wanted to be the talk of the town, and this will really get those tongues wagging.”
After sending the note, Dinah paced in front of Pettyjohn’s windows.
Hard strikes of bootheels alerted her to Silas’s presence on the boardwalk and she wheeled around to face him.
She kept her stance wide and her hands on her hips, squaring off against him like a gunfighter.
Silas hadn’t dressed up for his trip into town. He wore his work clothes with the exception of donning his dress hat. It annoyed her, that surge of pride she felt, seeing that he looked ten times better in his plain duds than the dandies who wore fancy suits.
Not helping, Dinah.
Silas’s gaze started at her knees, where he saw the full shaft of her boots as well as the split in her skirt. Then that gaze traveled up, following the brass buttons on her russet and cream jacquard-patterned short jacket to where they ended at her cleavage. His eyebrows drew together. “What the devil kind of getup is that?”
“It’s the latest fashion.”
Closing the distance between them with four steps, he held up the piece of paper. “What bullshit is this? You’re breakin’ our betrothal in a fucking note?”
“You were willing to break it off with me for a chance at a piece of fucking land,” she shot back.
His eyes widened at her cursing.
“Whatever the bullshit is between you and Zeke West…I’m done with it.”
He deflated. “Dinah, darlin’, it ain’t what you think.”
“No?” She stepped forward. “I think I was having a nice dinner in Pettyjohn’s only to hear whispers from the employees about some asinine bet between two men upstairs, involving land and a woman’s hand. Land, Silas! God. I hate that I immediately knew who would do that.”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But I do understand that the man I thought I’d pledged my life to was perfectly happy to gamble it—and me—away. So you should understand, Mr. McKay, that we are done.”
That shocked him. Then his jaw ticked with anger. “No, we are not done. Not by a long goddamned shot.” He latched onto her upper arms, but his focus was momentarily sidetracked by the up-close view of the tops of her breasts. A growling noise rumbled in his chest and then his hands moved as he attempted to button up her jacket.
“Stop it,” she hissed, batting his fingers away. “You lost the right to touch me.”
“But every other person in town gets to see them private parts of you?” he demanded.
“Yes.”
“Like hell they do.”
Just to be ornery, Dinah stepped back and hastily undid the remaining buttons. Then she took off the jacket, dropping it on top of Silas’s boots. Her chest heaved as she stood in front of him—and anyone in town who was gawking at the spectacle—in a peach satin and lace corset that barely contained her bosom.
“Christ almighty, woman, would you cover yourself back up!” He leaned down to retrieve her jacket.
“Don’t you want to see what you won the rights to?” She flattened her hands on his chest, shoving him back a step. “Except in using me as part of your wager in this stupid feud with Zeke West, you lost me.” Snatching the jacket out of his hands, she angrily put it back on. “Now if you excuse me, I have someplace else to be.” She spun around and sashayed away.
“Dinah. Wait.”
“No. Go to hell.”
Silas spoiled her dramatic exit by sneaking in behind her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “I already told you woman, we ain’t done.”
“Put me down, you bastard!” She thrashed against him. “I mean it, McKay! I will kick your tiny bollocks—”
“Now that’s just plain mean, sugar pie. You have no idea what size my bollocks are.”
“I hate you!”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes I do! Put me down.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll scream!”
“Go ahead.”
More bootsteps thudded and Silas stopped.
“Everything all right, McKay?”
Fuming, Dinah tried to turn so she could see who he was talking to as if she wasn’t hanging upside down like a side of beef.
“Yes, Sheriff. But as you can see, me’n my lady are havin’ a bit of a row.”
A male laugh. “I take it Miss Thompson heard about the wager?”
“Yes I did, Sheriff Eccleston, and I want this man arrested!” she yelled.
The sheriff crouched down so he could look her in the eyes. “I don’t blame you for bein’ upset. So how about a compromise? You hear him out. If you still want me to arrest him afterward…” He paused and frowned. “What exactly would I be arrestin’ him for?”
“Stupidity,” she snapped.
Sheriff Eccleston laughed. “Sorry to say it, but that ain’t a crime. If it was, damn near everyone in the county would be in jail.” He stood and clapped Silas on the shoulder. “Good luck. And keep the town’s decency laws in mind when you kiss and make up or you will find yourself behind bars.”
“Understood, Sheriff.”
They’d reached the end of the walkway and Silas set her down.
Before she could bolt, he’d towed her around the edge of the building and pushed her up against it with his body. He put his mouth on her ear. “Settle down.”
“Leave me alone, Silas.”
“Not a goddamned chance in hell of that happening ever.”
She closed her eyes and refused to look at him. It took every bit of her resolve not to cry.
“Will you listen to me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yes, darlin’, you do.” Those rough-skinned hands framed her face. “Will you please open them pretty blue eyes and look at me?”
Dinah opened her eyes and glared at him.
“There’s my girl.”
“Say your piece.”
“The wager wasn’t my idea.”
“Whose was it?”
“West’s. And I didn’t wager you. I wagered my happiness.” His eyes searched hers. “The bet was if he won, I had to break it off with you.”
“How is that not betting me?”
“Because it was not my choice. I didn’t say, hey, the only thing of value I have in my life is this beautiful, smart, perfect woman who’s agreed to be my wife and losin’ her would destroy me. I’d planned on anteing up the suit Jonas gave me.”
She was not letting the sweet words from that sly tongue distract her this time. “So you’re thrilled that you finally got that creekside piece of land between yours and Henrikson’s? Does i
t feel better to have won it than if you’d paid for it, especially since Henrikson passed on buying it when Griffen offered it to him first? What makes you happier, Silas? That you won’t have to worry about Griffen ever running his sheep there? Or that you and Zeke won’t be neighbors and he’ll never be able to stop over and borrow a cup of sugar from me?”
Confusion darkened his eyes. “How did you know exactly where that land in the deed was and who owned it before Zeke bought it?”
This was why she didn’t keep secrets. How was she supposed to believe that Zeke wouldn’t have bragged that to Silas that he’d paid her a visit? Now she looked guilty.
“When?” he demanded with that quiet anger that scared her far worse than his blustering.
“A week ago.”
He took a moment to breathe. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because West both warned me against telling you and encouraged me to tell you that he’d visited me when he saw I was alone at Doc’s. He knew you’d be furious and go after him.”
“That motherfucking cocksucking son-of-a-bitch. I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”
Dinah latched onto Silas’s vest when he reared back, as if to leave. “That is why I didn’t tell you.”
“That’s not your choice, Dinah.”
“To keep you from starting yet another pointless fight with West and getting yourself hurt again? Yes, it is the choice I made to protect you, even from yourself, you idiot. You have no idea how out of control your anger is, do you?”
“Did. He. Touch. You?”
She shook her head.
Silas leaned in until they were nose to nose. “You’re lyin’. Something else happened.”
“Yes, something else did happen. Zeke told me you used to work for the railroad.” Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you made it clear how you felt about railroad men. I didn’t wanna be lumped in with them. Especially not after he and I…” He snapped his mouth shut. “It don’t matter.”
Silver-Tongued Devil Page 16
