Shifter’s Baby (Alpha Fantasy Paranormal Billionaire Shifter BBW Romance) (56 page)

Men always look at women. It’s hardwired in their DNA. When a woman walks by, men watch and enjoy it. It’s unfair, but that attention is confined to women the men think are attractive. Too old, too fat, too thin and their attention isn’t aroused.

In the offices of the Wilkins Mining Company, a gorgeous woman with a very cold smile strolled between the desks of five men working on the books of the company. Not one lifted his head to look at her. She stopped by one desk to ask the man a question. He answered her question without raising his eyes.

She went back to her office and closed the door behind her. A man at a small desk looked at her without lust. His name was Dennis Wilkins; Dahlia’s brother.

He said, “Well, how is this preposterous game of yours going. Did the phony bride meet with the Sheriff? Is he flummoxed, flustered, off his stride?”

“Yes. He is. My man inside the Sheriff’s office tells me that the woman is staying with his mother. She will be in his life now. We’ve just cut him from a whole Sheriff to half a Sheriff.” She sat down at her big desk and leaned back in the chair. “More than that. She will be so irritating, so demanding, so relentless in her nagging that he will be very receptive when I introduce myself to him at the Cotillion.”

“Answer me this, dear sister. You’ve always made it clear that you will allow no man to give you an order under any conditions. The Sheriff isn’t a doormat. You won’t be able to walk all over him. What will you do when he asserts his independence and disobeys you?”

“When I take him as a pet, he won’t be a Sheriff any more. He’ll have no money, no job and no prospects. He will do what I want or he will find himself sleeping on the sofa with no money and no possessions. I’m not worried about that. He’ll meet my conditions.”

“Maybe he will. Maybe he won’t.”

“He will or he’ll go through more hell that he thinks possible.” She paused. “I’ve started the first step toward owning him. I had the meeting of the Woman’s club moved from tomorrow to tonight. The Sheriff’s mother will he out of the house. The Sheriff will be gambling. Our little nun will seek him out and be shocked at his dissolute activities. She’ll begin to nag and scold. I’ll love every minute of it.” She paused. “In fact, I’m going to look in on this opening salvo. I know a place in the saloon where I can watch the fun.”

“What does the Senator think of all this? I know he favors more...” He paused to find the right word. “...direct measures.”

“He’s given me two chances to prove my worth. I won’t need them. She’ll fail tonight and that will be it.”

That night, Matt went to his regular Tuesday night poker game.

Dahlia watched from behind a curtain in a room on the second floor. She smiled her frigid smile and her eyes lit up.

Matt’s eyebrows jumped when he saw Emma peek into the saloon. He looked at the cards in his hand and at Emma. He walked quickly to her. She was on one side of the swinging doors, he on the other. They peered at each other.

He said, “You can’t come in here, Miss Tillman. These aren’t gentlemen. They don’t’ know how to treat a lady.”

Emma pushed past him and approached the table. “Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Emma Tillman. I’m a house guest of the Sheriff’s mother. What brand of poker are you playing?”

Dahlia’s throat became dry. She tried to make it feel better by quietly clearing it. It didn’t work. She shook her head and muttered, “This is wrong. Why isn’t she shocked by his card play. Any other woman would be. Damn.”

Matt didn’t take his eyes off her. He hadn’t expected this. He grabbed her arm and turned her around. He whispered, “Emma, what are you doing here?”

“It’s hot in the house. Your mother left for her Woman’s Club Meeting. I was alone.” She turned to the other men. “You don’t have to teach me to play. I’m an adequate player as long as play is slow. I take it by the way the cards are arranged on the table that this is the game called ‘Texas Hold’em’. If you would advance me the cost of the ante, I’d like to join you.”

Four men nodded. The fifth stared at her with anger in his eyes.

Texas Hold’em is basic poker with three common cards, two cards dealt to individuals and four interruptions for betting.

The first hand went slowly, as the men catered to Emma’s request. Two men threw in their hands as worthless and left play. Emma successfully spotted the eye twitch of the man on Matt’s right and interpreted this as a sign of worry. She knew the man had a middling good hand, probably three of a kind, about half way up the hierarchy of poker hands. She pushed him by betting very quickly and aggressively after he raised. This rattled the man so much that he quit before the last card. Emma won with nothing but a pair of fives.

They played the next hand slowly, politely. Emma won that one too, and in a way that impressed and irritated everyone at the table except Matt.

In Texas Hold’em, an especially good hand allows the player holding it to bet everything he owns. It’s called ‘All In’. It’s a very dangerous and heady move. Losing means walking away from the table with nothing in the player’s pocket except lint, his room key and a bill from the cafe down the block for the evening meal.

Emma’d won fifty dollars from the first hand. She’d bet fifteen of it by the time the dealer put the fourth card on the table. She calmly and without a hit of stress said, “All in” and set her thirty-five dollars on the table. Two men stayed with her.

They matched her total of fifty dollars. Since betting was finished for that hand, each player turned his two cards over for the rest to see. Emma laid down a full house; Aces over Kings.

The other two had three of a kind and two pairs. The two cards that came after that helped no one. Emma was now ahead by one hundred and fifty dollars.

The men abandoned polite play. Everything moved quickly. Emma moved faster. The men knew they’d been set up by her request for slow play.

Half an hour later, Emma had cleaned them out. She carefully separated her winnings into piles matching the amount each man had lost. Her enjoyable, soft voice floated over the table. “Gentlemen, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you back your losses if you’ll give something to charity. It doesn’t have to be as big as your loss tonight, but should be enough to help out. I saw a home for unwed mothers as I rode into town. That would be a deserving charity.” She smiled at them.

One man said, “You’re welcome to play again, Miss Tillman. You really skunked us.”

She grinned at him. “I’ve enjoyed your company, gentlemen. Yes, I’ll play again.”

One of the other players said, “You have to give us a chance, though. Play with both eyes closed. I think we might win a hand or two.”

Emma laughed at the comment.

On the way back to the Sheriff’s office and quarters, Matt said, “I wish you’d do what I tell you to do. That wasn’t a fit place for a lady.”

“And a former nun?”

Matt didn’t reply.

Emma continued, “After a day of praying and working in the garden, we had to have something to do. We played poker. The Mother Superior was a genuine shark, very sharp and quick to take advantage. Those men were child’s play.”

“Will you promise to do what I tell you from now on?”

“No, Matthew, I won’t.”

Matt didn’t reply.

Dahlia snuck off, sick at heart. The nun should have been at a loss. She shouldn’t be able to play poker and certainly not win at poker.

The next night, Emma, quite innocently, intruded on the Sheriff’s grief again.

They sat down for dinner. Emma helped Sarah bring the dishes of food to the table and clean up afterwards. She wore just a hint of perfume. It invaded Matt’s private hell every time she got close.

When dinner was over, Matt excused himself to go to the bar again. He looked at Emma for any signs of disapproval. Emma turned to Sarah. “Are you staying in tonight?”

“Yes. I’m going to do needlework.”

“Good. I love handwork. We can talk.”

As Matt left, Sarah said, “Be careful, son.”

Emma said, “I’ll see you when you get back. If I haven’t gone to bed by then.”

The next morning, Matt took extra time getting ready. He shaved with care. He combed his hair and put on a clean shirt. He steadied himself before he went down the hall. He felt a little guilty and a little rebellious, although no one had told him to come home early or watch his drinking.

He sat down at the table with his eyes on his mother and Emma. Both smiled at him and went back to talking about their previous evening’s needlework.

Matt had stayed out until nearly three in the morning. He reminded himself that he was the Sheriff of Rifle Springs and a grown man. He could stay out as late as he wanted and nobody could stop him.

Neither of the ladies asked him when he’d come in.

The Senator said, simply, “That’s one.” He stopped speaking in a way that told Dahlia he wasn’t finished. He said, “Did I mention what happens to you if you fail?”

“No.”

“Good. Any plans for your second attempt?”

Dahlia said, “I’m going to bring in the heavy artillery. She’ll be the disapproving little drudge before she knows it. I’ve talked with the madam at the whorehouse. Matt checks it every night. I’ve arranged an embarrassing little display. That little nun will dissolve with horror at the sight of ladies of the night displaying their wares.”

“It might work.”

That night, Emma came downstairs just as Matt was going out to look over the town. He saw her and said, “I’m leaving to make a tour of the town. I’ll be back when I’m done.”

“Can I come with you?”

“No.”

She sat down at the table.

Matt had much the same thought as Dahlia. He had to get rid of this weight around his neck. Maybe if she saw the wrong side of Rifle Springs, she’d leave. “I’ve changed my mind. Come along. It’ll be good to get out of the house.”

Nothing notable happened until the reached the Western Gentleman’s Club, a big, ornate building at the end of the street. A number of women lounged around the second floor balcony. They’d forgotten to get all the way dressed.

Matt talked with them for a moment. He was friendly and respectful. He had a sudden attack of conscience. “You don’t have to come inside. It’s going to be embarrassing.”

“I know what goes on in these places, and I’ve seen undressed women before. In fact, I am an undressed woman from time to time. I’ll survive.”             

Matt said, “No. I don’t want you to go inside.”

She resolutely opened the door and entered the house of ill repute.

She looked at a foyer that could have been a large parlor in a regular home. Abruptly, a curtain at the end of the room slid back and a parade of women came inside.

The first was a tall, well-built blonde with blue eyes. She wore a transparent nightgown that hid nothing.

Matt couldn’t hide his embarrassment. He wasn’t embarrassed for himself. He didn’t think a former nun should be in this environment.

Emma didn’t look at Matt to see if he witnessed the enticing display. She could see that the woman was aiming herself at Matt and stepped in front of him. Emma grabbed the hands of the woman and made sure she had eye contact. Her delicate, soft voice was firm. “My name is Emma Tillman. What’s your name?”

The prostitute wanted to get her hands back and continue her assault on the Sheriff. Emma didn’t let go. The woman said, “I’m Sunset Delight.”

Emma shook her head. “No, not your stripper name. What’s your real name?”

The woman saw something in Emma’s eyes she didn’t expect. She paused. “My name is Abigail Henderson. Why?”

“Because you’re in a dangerous occupation. You can be beaten up by one of your customers or your pimp. You need protection. That’s why Sheriff Stone is here. You can tell him if someone threatens you. He won’t arrest you or run you out of town. He’s an honest man.”

“I know. He won’t take a bribe or spend time with one of us in return for not rousting us.”

Emma handed Abigail/Sunset to Matt and looked at the next girl in line. She started the same as she had with Abigail. “My name is Emma Tillman. What’s your name?”

Emma finished with the next girl and noticed that Abigail stood by her side. Emma said, “Hi Abigail, is there anything else you need?”

Abigail leaned over and whispered in Emma’s ear, “Nobody touches me except to fuck me. It makes me lonelier. Would you mind giving me a hug?”

Emma smiled at her. “I’ve got a lot of those. You can have one.”

Abigail clung to Emma like a sailor to his last beer. She had to wipe away a tear after it was over. She asked, “Will you come back again? Please do.”

“Yes. I’d love to.”

Matt watched Emma with undisguised admiration as she dealt with every girl who came in the parlor. He forgot to mention that she’d disobeyed him again.