COWBOY ROMANCE: Justin (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 1) (192 page)

Chapter 6

While the newspaper office was being built, Mike would check in with Stina daily to see if she needed help. If she did, he would ask Bridget to help her because, as he claimed, he didn’t want Lars to get angry with Stina because he was there.

Stina couldn’t believe how well things were going. Apparently, Mike and Lars had come to an agreement.

The newspaper office opened to great fanfare. The people in town who were literate or could read English were on hand for the ribbon-cutting. Even some who were illiterate attended because they knew they could have someone tell them what was in the paper. According to Bridget, Mike even planned the event for a Sunday so Stina could attend.

After his brief speech about how they were there to serve the people of Forestville by giving them a voice and information, as well as giving them access to a telegraph machine, he cut the wide ribbon nailed across the door.

Cheers rose from the crowd as Mike and Bridget entered the building. Then Mike turned in the doorway and said, “Please. If anyone wants to see the newspaper office we built for them, come in.”

A few of the crowd entered the building, such as Elise, Moya, Jared, Emily and Karin, along with several others. Stina waited until no other person filed in and the crowd had dispersed before she entered.

After passing through a hallway about ten feet long with two openings, each leading to one of the two offices, Stina walked into a large open room with a brilliantly shining counter extending from one side of the inside to the other. Bridget, wearing a heavy black apron, stood by the printing press behind the counter. That must be what she wore when she was actually operating the press. One section of the counter was hinged and standing open to show where Bridget entered and exited the area.

“What do you think?” Mike asked from behind her.

“I’m impressed,” she replied, her chest swelling with pride at what he’d accomplished in such a relatively short period of time for his project.

Behind the counter, Bridget removed her apron and said, “Nobody else is coming in, Mike. I’m going home and start dinner. Should I make enough for you, too?”

He glanced down at Stina. “Will you join me for dinner at the restaurant again?”

Stina was hesitant. After Lars’ outburst the last time she ate in public with Mike, did she dare say yes? What the heck! This was a special day for Mike, and he probably wanted to celebrate with a friend for a little while.

“Sure,” she replied.

He looked back to Bridget and grinned. “No, thank you. I’m going to be busy tonight.”

Bridget chuckled as she passed them at the counter. “I’m not surprised. I’ll see you tomorrow, brother.” She glanced over at Stina with a grin. “Have a good evening, you two.”

“Turn over the closed sign on your way out,” Mike said, “and close the door.”

Bridget’s laugh flooded Stina’s ears just before she closed the office door.

Not knowing how to react now that they were completely alone, Stina wandered away from Mike as she slid her hand over the smooth counter surface.

“I can’t believe how beautiful this counter is,” she said, determined to keep her distance.

“The wood in this area is beautiful,” he agreed, “but not as beautiful as a certain woman I know.”

She’d left her hair long that day since she didn’t have to work, and now Mike slipped his fingers into it. Her locks were wavy and a baby-fine blonde, and by the way he caressed it, she could tell that he liked touching it. Oh, how she loved the way he ran his fingers gently over the waves down her back.

Mike grasped her shoulders tenderly and turned her to face him. “I want to thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me tonight.”

She stared up at him, unable to take her gaze from his green eyes. She loved the bright color of them; it was almost as thought she was looking at emeralds.

Then his hands slipped down her upper arms to her elbows and slid back up again. He repeated this motion several times before he linked his fingers behind her neck and rested his wrists on her shoulders. It was such a seductive move that she couldn’t resist reaching up and gently grasping his forearms. She trailed them up to his elbows. His forearms were more muscular that she would have thought now that she could feel them under his cotton shirt. He worked at banking in New York City; she knew that much. And he did a lot of writing about different things. What could he possibly do to firm up his arms so well?

“I’m glad you could come today,” Mike said, breaking the silence that Stina suddenly realized had lasted many seconds.

“I am, too,” she replied, unable to get the volume much higher than a whisper.

What was blocking her vocal cords, keeping her from speaking louder? Whatever it was had also caused something in her chest to constrict, making it almost impossible to breathe.

“I wanted you here more than anything,” he admitted as he leaned a little closer. “That’s why I scheduled it to happen on a Sunday. I know it’s the only day you don’t work.”

His breath was hot against her forehead as he lowered his head. If she weren’t so shy, she could just lean into him and kiss him. That’s really what she wanted right now—a kiss, not talk. She stared up at him, her gaze riveted to his full lips. Then she couldn’t see them anymore because they grazed her forehead. It was just a brush of a kiss, but Stina thought she would melt into a puddle right there in his office.

Suddenly, he broke away from her and said, “We should probably leave before I do something a gentleman shouldn’t.”

As disappointed as Stina was, she agreed. It was probably foolhardy to engage in more than this in an office where anybody could open the door and walk in. They should do this in private, where nobody could see them.

Chapter 7

Elise bought a copy of the first edition of the paper and read it to Moya and Stina after dinner at the couple’s house the next night. There wasn’t much in it, news from San Francisco and Sacramento and a local interest story—about Stina and her business, as well as her need for an assistant.

Mike hadn’t forgotten, Stina realized, even after nine weeks. He had said that he would print something, but she hadn’t believed he would do it in the first edition. Stina felt a tingle of joy that he would remember. Why? Was it just because he had followed up on his promise, unlike Lars had done on two occasions?

A knock at the door startled them, and Elise went to answer it. From her seat across the room, Stina could see that one of the saloon girl prostitutes stood on the doorstep.

“May I help you?” Elise asked.

“I went to the washhouse, but it was closed, of course,” the woman said. “I didn’t know where Stina Benson lived, but everybody knows where you live and that she came to Forestville with you. I’m looking for a job in her laundry.”

Startled that this had happened so soon, or even at all, Stina rose and went to the door.

“We’ll talk outside,” Stina told Elise as she left the house.

“Miss Benson,” the woman said, extending her hand toward Stina, “I’m Gloria Scott, and I would like to work for you.”

There it was again—Miss Benson. She was awfully tired of having to correct people on the pronunciation. Maybe she should just do what Karin did and let everybody call her that, even introduce herself as Stina Benson. She’d stubbornly held on to her Swedish roots for almost three years now. Maybe it was time to let go a little at a time and become more Americanized. She wanted to speak without an accent as much as possible. Why not use an Americanized name as well?

Deciding not to correct Gloria, Stina asked, “May I ask why you want to work for me?”

“I hate working in the saloon, and I thought maybe I could work for you most of the time. Then I could only work maybe a night or two at the saloon until I earn enough to get out of there. I would stop right away, but I have to pay for my room. They take it out of my earnings.”

“How did you hear about my opening?”

Gloria grimaced, as though she was embarrassed by her words. “I can’t read, but somebody in the saloon was reading his paper out loud, and I heard him read the article. Would you be willing to take a chance on me? Being a hooker is dangerous, and I have to give most of my money away, so I don’t actually earn very much.”

“How is it dangerous?” Stina asked curiously.

“I don’t know if you heard or not, but I was beaten a while back. It was bad, and I couldn’t work for about three weeks. The bastard broke my rib and my nose. I had two black eyes, so no man wanted to hire me.”

“I heard about that. I really felt sorry for you. Will your broken rib cause you pain if you work washing clothes? It’s not an easy job, you know. It’s very … Um,
vat’s
the
vord
?
Fysiska
.” Frustrated, Stina knocked on the side of her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Darn! Sometimes the English
vord yust von’t
come to me.”

“Do you mean physical?” Gloria asked.

“
Ja
!
Det är det
!” Stina felt her face heat as she blushed. Gloria probably didn’t understand a word she’d just said. “I’m sorry, Gloria. I try hard to remember to speak English, but sometimes I just forget—like when I’m frustrated, exhausted or angry. I said,
Yes, that’s it
.”

With a smile, Gloria replied, “I know. I’ve heard it many times from Swedish men who pay for my services. Anyway, I don’t think the physical part of the job will be a big problem. I’ve been healed for some time now, and I see no reason I can’t do the work.”

“I don’t know how much the job will pay yet,” Stina admitted. “I had no idea that Mike was going to publish the article so soon, and I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. Anything you can afford will be fine.”

“Then the job is yours,” Stina said. “Come to the washhouse tomorrow morning, and I’ll start training you.”

“Thank you, Miss Benson. You won’t regret taking a chance on me.”

“You’re welcome, Gloria,” she replied as the woman hurried away. “And call me Stina.”

Stina couldn’t wait to leave Elise’s house and find Mike so she could thank him. Immediately, she thanked Elise for dinner and reading the paper to them and left in search of Mike.

First she went to the restaurant to see if he was eating. He wasn’t there, and Mr. Anderson told her that he had left about an hour earlier without having eaten. Mr. Anderson assumed that Mike was going to have dinner with his sister. So Stina headed over to Jared Coleman’s house on the edge of town.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Stina thought nothing of it. It thundered here quite often, but that didn’t necessarily mean it would rain. Besides, she wanted to tell Mike how quickly she’d found an assistant. By the time she reached the Coleman residence, there were occasional drips from the sky, but nothing to take note of other than that they were there.

On the front porch, Stina knocked on the door and waited until Jared opened it.

“Stina!” he said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Stina’s here?” Mike shouted from somewhere inside.

His footsteps grew louder as he approached the door. He appeared in the doorway, asking, “Did you see the newspaper article about your business?”

“I did,” she replied with a smile, “and that’s why I came. Mr. Anderson told me that you might be here.”

Mike turned toward the inside and said, “Thanks for dinner, Bridge. I’m going to talk to Stina on the porch then I’ll walk her home.” He turned back to look at her. “If she’ll let me?”

“It isn’t necessary,” Stina replied.

“Don’t be silly. Your house is almost completely across town. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t walk you.” He closed the door and grasped her elbow and led her to the porch swing, asking, “So you came here about the article?”

“I did,” she replied, settling onto the bench swing. “I wanted to thank you. I didn’t realize that you would publish the article so soon.”

“I promised you that I would.”

She watched as he sank down beside her. After all the times her suitors had promised her things and not followed through, she didn’t think Mike wouldn’t. Then again, Mike wasn’t her suitor, not technically, anyway. He was just a friend who
maybe
wanted to be a suitor.

After a soft sigh, she admitted, “I’m not used to men keeping promises they’ve made to me.”

“Well, it’s time you’re shown that men can do it. I was raised to always keep my promises, and I’ve never broken one.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you wrote it, Mike. I already have a helper. In fact, she tracked me down to Elise’s house because she wanted the job so bad.”

“That’s wonderful! What’s her name?”

“Gloria Scott.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of her.”

Stina smiled. If Mike hadn’t heard of Gloria, he probably didn’t frequent the saloon or pay prostitutes to take care of his manly needs. Whereas, she knew for a fact that Lars was at the saloon almost every night. It wouldn’t surprise her if he knew exactly who Gloria was.

“Now I just have to figure out how much to pay her. I told her that I don’t know yet, but she didn’t care.”

“I’ll help you decide a fair salary—maybe by the load of laundry she washes or irons.”

“I would appreciate that.” A crack of thunder startled Stina and she slapped her hand over her heart. “That was loud. Maybe I should get home.”

“I should probably get back to the hotel before it starts pouring, too.”

He stood and extended his hand toward her. She put hers in his and his fingers wrapped around her hand tenderly before he pulled her up. Bending his arm, he put her hand in the crook of his elbow and escorted her down the steps.