Sarah Sunshine: A Montana Romance Novella (4 page)

Mr. Sutcliffe rolled his eyes and dabbed at his bleeding nose with the corner of his sleeve.

“Of course you’re respectable, honey,” Mrs. Reynolds told her, giving Mr. Sutcliffe a frosty stare.  “I’d let you live at the hotel, but between Roy living there too and so many of the rooms booked with folks here to build up the town-”

“She is not staying under the same roof with that jackass!” Mr. Sutcliffe interrupted.  He glared at Roy, who stood to the side being mopped up by Mr. West.

“Did you listen to a word I just said?”  Mrs. Reynolds shifted her weight to one hip.  She glanced to the pistol she still carried as if she would consider using it on Mr. Sutcliffe.  “Of course she can’t stay in the hotel.  Sorry, sweetheart,” she said to Sarah.

“It’s alright, I understand,” Sarah replied.

“And you shouldn’t have been trying to set her up with Viola either,” Mrs. Reynolds went on, gesturing with the pistol.  “You know what that woman is capable of.”

Mr. Sutcliffe crossed his arms and tapped his foot.  “You can’t let that go, can you?”

“Let it go?”  Mrs. Reynolds snorted.  “That was my life, Paul.”  Before Mr. Sutcliffe could open his mouth to reply, Mrs. Reynolds held up her hand with the pistol to stop him.  She turned to Sarah and said, “We’ll find someplace for you to stay, honey.”

“I have plenty of room at my house.”  Mr. Bell joined the discussion, shifting his grip on Sarah’s suitcase.  “That architect, Mr. Sinclair, has gone back to New York, and I don’t have any other boarders at the moment.  I don’t usually board women, but under the circumstances I don’t think it would matter.”

“She’s not staying with the likes of you either!”  Mr. Sutcliffe spit on the dirt at Mr. Bell’s offer.

“Why, I think that would be a right fine solution!” Roy piped up.

“You keep your trap shut!”  Mr. Sutcliffe got worked up all over again.

He swayed towards Roy as if he would start the fight anew before Sarah barked, “Stop it!  Both of you!  I can decide for myself where I should stay.”

Mrs. Reynolds raised her eyebrows, and both Roy and Mr. Sutcliffe broke from glaring murder at each other to stare at Sarah.  If Mrs. Reynolds could take her life into her own hands after a set-back, so could she.  She took a deep breath and went on.

“Thank you so much for your kind offer, Mr. Bell.”  She gave Mr. Bell the best smile she could manage under the circumstances.  “But it just wouldn’t be proper.  I’m a respectable woman now, and it wouldn’t be right for me to stay unchaperoned in the house of a single man.”

“Uh, honey, I don’t think people would get the wrong idea,” Mrs. Reynolds told her on the sly.  “Everyone ‘round here knows Phin
ain’t interested
.”

“I’m sure someone somewhere would take offense.”  Sarah dared to contradict her.  “So I thank you for your help, Mr. Bell, but I can’t accept it.”

“I understand completely.”  Mr. Bell smiled and nodded to her like the gentleman he was.  At least one man in town knew how to treat a woman.

Mr. Bell’s civility gave Sarah strength.  She stood a little taller and turned to Mr. Sutcliffe.  “Since I don’t have any other place to go, I would consider moving back into the saloon.”

“Of course, darling.”  Mr. Sutcliffe’s shoulders relaxed, but Roy shuffled with tension.

“But on one condition,” Sarah went on.  Roy, Mr. Sutcliffe, and even Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Bell, and Mr. West perked up to listen.  “I don’t want to stay where the other girls do their business.  I want someplace far away from all that.”

“But Sarah, the girls pretty much do their business all over the place,” Mr. Sutcliffe argued.

“Not in your part of the premises they don’t.”

If anything, Roy grew more indignant.  “Sarah, say you’re not suggesting
moving in
with Mr. Sutcliffe!”

“I should say not!” Sarah gasped.  “I’m a respectable woman!  And that’s the respectable side of the building.”

“Honey, I’ll gladly give up my room for you, but where am I gonna sleep then?” Mr. Sutcliffe asked.

Sarah shrugged.  “That’s up to you, Mr. Sutcliffe.”

Roy sputtered at the suggestion, but Mrs. Reynolds rested a hand on his arm to settle him.  Mr. Sutcliffe rubbed a hand over his chin as best he could without bumping any of his cuts or bruises.  Mr. Bell and Mr. West looked as though they were done with the scene and wanted to go home.  Sarah was more than ready to move on herself.

“Well, all right,” Mr. Sutcliffe finally gave in.  “You can stay in my rooms for the time being.  But it’s only temporary.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sutcliffe.”  Sarah smiled, the tickling feeling of having won at something spreading through her.

“I’ll talk to Viola and see if I can’t smooth things over with her.”

“That would be nice.”

“Aw, but you don’t really want to stay with that old biddy, do you?” Roy protested.

Sarah turned to him, her emotions all in a jumble.  Something about the hang-dog look in his eyes made her want to rush to him and squeeze him tight—that or belt him one—no matter how fine and fancy he was.

“All I want is to start a new life as a good person, Roy,” she told him, chin held high.  “I thought you understood that.  I thought that if I worked hard at it, someday I might be worthy of you.  But apparently you’re not the man I thought you were.  You’re the type that picks fights in public and ends up with a black eye.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry, Sarah,” he said, lowering his head.  “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“I sure hope so.”  The idea of Roy making up to her was far more tempting than she was ready to admit to.  So tempting, in fact, that a sliver of a smile made it to her lips before she could tuck it away.

She turned to Mr. Sutcliffe.  “I’m ready to go back to the saloon now.”

“Let me carry those for you.”  Mr. Sutcliffe turned a gloating smile to Roy and Mrs. Reynolds both as he took her suitcase and held out his hand for the other.  Mr. Bell passed it over without argument.

With that done, they started for the saloon.  The town of Cold Springs had gone back to normal after the fracas.  Only a few people watched them now as they stepped up onto the saloon porch.  Sarah snuck a peek at Roy and Mrs. Reynolds over her shoulder before entering the saloon.  Roy looked pitiful and Mrs. Reynolds had her arm around his shoulder as if she was trying to boost his spirits.  So much for starting her new life out on the right foot.

Chapter Four

The chill that hung in the night air had far more to do with the frosty silence Roy had encountered from Sarah over the last two days than with the weather.  Two long, grumpy days and all he had to show for it was a black eye and a blue heart.  He shrugged off his shirt and shuffled toward the foot of his bed as he got ready for what would surely be another sleepless night.

The curtains hung open around his window, letting moonlight pour in.  Outside the sky was crisp and starry.  He could see a sliver of it over the roof of the saloon next door and skirted around the foot of his bed to get a closer look.  He leaned against the windowsill, crossing his arms over the muscles of his bare chest.  It was a pretty sky, but it was nothing to the light of Sarah’s smile.  The stars couldn’t shine half as bright as Sarah’s eyes.  He missed those eyes something fierce.

At least he missed them until his gaze traveled downward to a small window one floor up from his across the alley in the saloon.

Sarah leaned against the windowpane, chin propped in her hand, watching him with a faraway look.  The moment she realized she’d been caught peeping, her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent gasp.

Roy grabbed his window and shoved it up.

“Sunshine, what are you doing?” he whispered as loud as he dared, sticking his head and shoulders out into the cold bite of the night.

She hesitated for a moment before sliding her own window open.

“Roy LaCroix, it’s too cold out here for you to go sticking your head and shoulders and … and….”  She swallowed and nodded to his bare torso, his pants riding low on his hips and doing nothing to hide the line of dark hair that trailed below his waistband.  Pink heat colored her cheeks.

Devilish though it made him, Roy leaned further out the window, giving her a better view.  The icy air tightened his nipples, which was as like as not to help his cause.

“I heard of Peeping Tom’s before, but I’ve never seen a Peeping Thomasina,” he said.

Sarah squeaked in offense.  She grabbed her windowsill and thrust her head out into the cold.  Her nightgown rippled in the breeze, sending him peeks of rosy flesh beneath.  The night was warming up fast.

“I was not peeping!  I was just getting ready for bed and I happened to look out the window.  You had the light on in there, so I could see you whenever you moved close.  Well, bits of you at least.  The nice bits.”  Her gaze drifted once more to the flat plain of his abdomen and what was almost not hidden beneath.  When she realized her mistake she gasped and snapped straight.  “So there!”

As soon as she’d finished snapping, her face relaxed into a dreamy smile that made Roy as hot as August, even with the chill breeze blowing through the alley between the saloon and the hotel.

“I thought respectable women didn’t go spying out their bedroom windows on their attractive male neighbors,” he ribbed her.

“You are not that attractive,” she lied, poorly at that.  “You’ve got a big bruise and a split lip.”  She paused to suck in a breath.  She slid to lean against the windowsill as she stared at his mouth.  “And a cut on your jaw, and broad, strong shoulders and a fine, solid chest with just enough hair and your ni-”

She straightened so suddenly that Roy thought she’d fall out of her window.

“That’s not fair!”

“What’s not fair?” he replied.

She took a few shallow breaths before saying, “Looking all handsome and naked in the moonlight.  You are not the man I thought you were, Mr. Roy LaCroix!”

“Sunshine, I’m just standing here.  You’re the one looking.”

“Well I never!”  She pouted, looking like she would have crossed her arms if she didn’t need them to brace herself as she leaned out the window.  “Respectable women are above such things.”

“Don’t tell me you’re turning into Miss Jones already.”  Roy teased her.

Sarah’s flustered composure stiffened into indignation.  “At least at Miss Jones’s place I wouldn’t have impertinent men flirting with me in dark alleys because they think I’m still open for business.”

Fury boiled up through Roy’s gut.  “Who was it?  I’ll give them a piece of my mind.”

Sarah huffed.  “It was you, Roy.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.  Hangin’ out your window half-naked, kissing me in the path-”

“You kissed me too.”

“-and fighting over me like I’m some two-bit piece of candy,” she continued, sadness poking through her ire.

Roy paused as her sadness hit him.

“You don’t really see it like that, do you?”  He had the urge to leap through the window and carry Sarah off to somewhere they could be safe gripped him.

Sarah nodded and sank against her window ledge.  “I was hoping folks would start to see me as something more than a whore.  I thought you were starting to think….”  She stopped and shook her head.

“Sunshine, people don’t think of you that way at all.”  Roy comforted her.  “I certainly don’t.”

“Oh, no?”  She stood a little straighter.  “I went over to that new pharmacy today, the one with the soda fountain, to ask about a job.  The man there didn’t know the difference between me and Thin Bessie who likes to entertain two at a time.”

“Gosh, Sarah, I’m sorry.”

“And that new dressmaker said I didn’t have enough experience to work for her, but I saw the way she looked at me.”

“She doesn’t know you the way I do,” he argued.

“I gotta have a job.”  She sank further into gloom.  “There aren’t many folks around here who would hire an ex-saloon girl without an education.  I thought there’d be a way out of this life, but once you make a decision it sticks, don’t it.”

Silence hung in the air between them, thick as a haze.  The faint hum of late-night music deep in the saloon swirled between them.  A couple of men further down the street, probably drunk, were laughing and carrying on, until someone yelled “Quiet!  We’re trying to sleep!”

Roy turned his eyes up to Sarah.  She was staring at his chest again, but this time with regret that made her look like a droopy daisy.

“I’ll think of something,” he said, determination beating against his ribs.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but I will.  I’ll … I’ll get you a job at the new school.”

“I asked,” she said.  “They’ve already hired everyone they need.”

“How ‘bout at the station then?”

“Miss Jones won’t let her brother hire me.”

“How about-”

“Roy!”  She stopped him, her flash of anger as sharp as lightning.  “You’ve done quite enough already!”

An uneasy silence fell between them.  His shoulders drooped and his heart sagged.

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling it all the way to his toes.

Sarah blinked.  “For what?”

“For ruining all your plans.”  He hung his head.  “For getting into a fight with Mr. Sutcliffe, for kissing you where Miss Jones could see.”

The faintest hint of a smile touched her lips.  “You didn’t mean no harm by it.”

“No, ma’am, I surely did not!”  He stood as straight as he could half stuck out the window.  “I’ll make things right.  I’ll go over to Miss Jones’s place tomorrow and make her see reason.  I’ll post signs all around the town, speak to every man, woman, and child myself and tell them what a delight you are.  I’ll-”

“You’ll do no such thing!”  She was full of fire again in an instant.

“Huh?”

“My whole life, men have only ever got me into trouble, from my daddy to the last man I entertained.  Well, I’m gonna get myself out of trouble this time!”  She stood and drew in a full breath.

“But surely you want some help, right?”

“No,” she said, all determination.  “If Mrs. Reynolds could get herself out of trouble all by herself, then I can too.”

“Aw, but Sarah-”

“Honey, let the boy help you out.”

The sudden sound of Delilah’s voice and the scrape of a window being fully opened above him just about caused Roy to have a fit.

Sarah yelped.  “Mrs. Reynolds!”

Roy leaned further out his window and twisted to look up one floor.  The window across from Sarah’s was open, its curtains billowing out into the alley.  Delilah sat on the corner of the windowsill in her nightgown and robe, her hair tied up in a scarf.

“Yeah, I been listening to your conversation,” Delilah said with a wave of her hand.  “Kind of hard not to hear it the way you two have been carrying on.  Even before I cracked the window.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Reynolds.”  Sarah stood as prim and proper as she could with her top half hanging out the window, her interesting parts threatening to spill out of her nightgown.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your beauty rest.”

Delilah barked a laugh.  “Honey, it’d take more than a few hours’ sleep to bring back my beauty.”  She shifted so that she could look down at Roy as well.   “So what’s so all-fired important that our Roy here can’t help you be the woman you want to be?”

Roy nodded and turned a proud smile up to Sarah.  What was so important indeed?

“I’m no two-bit hussy anymore, Mrs. Reynolds,” Sarah said with utmost sincerity.  “I do not want to be associating myself with street-fighters and riff-raff who kiss girls in the street.”

“But it was you I was kissing,” Roy argued, “you I was fighting for.”

“Roy, honey, put the shovel away before the hole gets any deeper,” Delilah scolded.

Roy blinked and blew out a frosty breath.

“And I want to help myself out for a change,” Sarah went on.  “If you can do it, so can I.”

Delilah sighed.  “Take it from me, honey.  Independence is only one step away from loneliness.  And refusing help from a man who sincerely loves you is not, in fact, something to be proud about.”

“But what will folks think if they see me accepting help from a man who caused a scene in the middle of town?” Sarah asked.

“What they’ll think is-”

“What the hell is going on out here?”

A second window in the saloon slammed open.  Paul Sutcliffe stuck his head out into the alley from a darkened room directly across from Roy, one floor down from Sarah.

“Excuse me,” Delilah drawled as though they were all lounging around the porch in broad daylight sipping tea.  “You’re interrupting a private conversation here.”

“Private conversation, my ass!  This is my saloon.”

“And this is my hotel,” Delilah shot back.  “And nobody’s alley.  So mind your own business.”

“Yeah!” Roy echoed.  “Mind your own business!”

“Why you little-”  Paul leaned further out his window, shaking a fist at Roy.  Roy jerked away before realizing that the alley was a foot too wide for Paul to reach him one way or another.  He stuck his head further out the window, barely resisting the urge to stick out his tongue.

“Sarah’s just been telling me how unhappy she is,” he said.

“Roy!” Sarah warned him.

Paul’s grim scowl dropped into concern.  “Sarah, sweetheart, is that true?”

Instead of answering, Sarah bit her lip and hugged herself.

Roy flickered a glance up to her before saying,  “She says that no one’s ever gonna see her as a good, honest woman if she stays at the saloon.”

“That’s not what I said,” Sarah muttered.

“Yeah?” Paul growled, attention back on Roy.  “Where would you have her stay?  With that Phineas Bell, the town deviant?”

“Mr. Bell’s place is as good as any.”  Roy squared his shoulders, gripping the window frame so that his biceps stood out in the moonlight.

“Well the saloon’s good enough for Sarah.  Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Well, I-”

“Paul Sutcliffe, what the hell is wrong with you?” Delilah snapped over whatever Sarah had to say.  “Since when has a saloon been good enough for anyone with half a lick of ambition?”

“Oh, like you, huh?”

“Please don’t argue for my sake, Mrs. Reynolds,” Sarah said before another fight could break out.  Her face was tight and her color high.

“The saloon’s no place for a lady,” Delilah said, then tucked a loose lock of silver hair under her scarf.  “Well, unless she’s the sort who likes that kind of attention.”

“Which Sarah does not,” Roy finished.

“I can speak for myself!” Sarah protested.

“And if she can’t, I’ll be the one to speak for her,” Paul said.

Sarah shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold.  “Honestly!” she snapped.

“As far as I see it, no matter where she is in the saloon, it ain’t gonna be good enough,” Roy went on, feeling the strength of his conviction.  “Sarah should be in a respectable situation.  Hostess of a grand hotel, for example.”

“Hmm.”  Delilah tilted her head to the side, considering.

“My home has always been good enough for her before,” Paul argued.

“Yeah, well before she was a whore-”

“Stop it!” Sarah called from above.

“How can you say you love her and call her a dirty name like that?” Paul said.