Deborah Camp (6 page)

Reno reared back, a flash of brilliance striking his mind.

“Thanks for the drink,” Doris said, downing it neatly. “And congratulations on your marriage.”

“Yeah, congratulations,” Little Nugget chimed in, sipping her whiskey slowly and swallowing it as if it were medicine.

“Can either of you ladies cook?” Reno asked.

Little Nugget slapped her thigh and laughed. “Mister, do we look like we belong in a kitchen?”

“I can cook,” Doris spoke up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why? You hungry?”

“No, I’m looking to hire a cook for the depot restaurant. You interested?”

The blonde nudged Doris. “Want to strap on an apron?”

Dead-eye Doris studied Reno intently, and he realized she thought he might be joking. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his money clip. From it he selected a bill and laid it on the bar. Doris’s eyes widened.

“First week’s salary. I imagine Dellie will want you to sign a contract of some kind. I hear that the women at these depot restaurants are required to remain employed for a designated period of time. Six months to a year, I think. Dellie might offer you less per week, but I’ll make up the difference as long as you keep that just between us.” He winked. “A man has to have a few secrets, even from his wife. What do you say? Are you worth that salary? If there are complaints, I’ll take it from your pay.”

“I work here,” Doris said softly, reluctantly.

“He doesn’t own you, does he?” Reno asked. He could tell by her pinched expression that they were both talking about Taylor Terrapin. “You want out of this trade, don’t you?” He gave her arm a light squeeze. “What do you say? Do you think you could satisfy some hungry travelers?”

Doris’s mouth quirked. “I’ve been doing that for a good many years, mister.” She cleared her throat and covered the currency with her hand. “I used to cook for my brothers and sisters and they never complained. I even had a husband once and he got fat
living with me. I reckon I could manage.”

Little Nugget gripped Doris’s shoulder. “You better think about what you’re doing. Better ask Taylor first or he’ll be rootin’ tootin’ mad.”

Doris shook her head. “You’re the only one he cares about anymore. He won’t miss me.” She snatched her hand off the bar, and the currency was no longer there. “I gotta pack a few things. I get room and board, don’t I?”

Reno nodded. “Sure do. I didn’t catch your last name, ma’am.”

She looked startled, but answered, “McDonald.”

“Can you start cooking today, Mrs. McDonald?”

A shy smile of pleasure curved her lips. “I guess.”

“Good.” Reno tossed back the shot of whiskey. “I’ll wait and escort you to the restaurant.”

Dead-eye Doris hitched up her skirts and almost flew upstairs. Little Nugget watched her, worry etched on her elfin face. The barkeep was frowning, too.

“Hope you know what you’re doing, mister.” Little Nugget said. “What do you think, Hector?” she asked the bartender.

“He won’t like her leaving without asking first.”

“He’ll get over it,” Reno assured them. “Where is Terrapin? I’ll tell him Mrs. McDonald is working for Dellie now.”

“He’s asleep and he don’t like being disturbed,” Little Nugget said. “I’ll tell him later when he’s awake. I’ll handle it.”

Reno observed the stubborn set of her mouth, the courage evident in her straight posture. “So you’re his favorite. How old are you? And don’t lie to me. I figure
you can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen.”

“I don’t lie,” she told him, her eyes taking on a hard sheen. “I’m seventeen. Something wrong with that?”

“No, but it’s a shame that a fine-looking lady like you had to start such a life so early. Where’s your mama?”

“Dead, and you don’t have to worry about me. I’m sitting in the catbird seat.”

Reno grinned. “I thought you didn’t lie.”

She looked startled, then averted her face from him, and Reno realized he’d struck a nerve.

Doris McDonald came charging down the stairs, suitcase in hand. Her cheeks were flushed and excitement sparkled in her eyes.

“I see you’re ready, ma’am.”

“Yep.” She backhanded a stray lock of her brown hair from her eyes. “I used to dream about leaving this life, but I never managed it. If I pass up this chance to get out, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Little Nugget hugged her. “Take care. I’ll do what I can to smooth things over when he finds out.”

Doris rested one hand alongside Little Nugget’s face. “You should get out, too. You’re young and pretty and can find a husband if you try. You ought to leave here, so you can catch yourself a good man.”

Little Nugget gave her a playful push toward the door. “I’ve had all the good men I can stand. Go on. I’ll stop by and see how you’re doing in a few days.”

“Honey, you can’t fool me. I know you’ve got dreams just like the rest of us,” Mrs. McDonald said, looking over her shoulder as she moved with Reno toward the bat-wing door. “Don’t be a stranger, you hear? And don’t let him hurt you.”

Reno glanced back at the small blonde, struck by her friend’s parting advice. He saw the glimmer of tears in Little Nugget’s almond-shaped eyes before she turned away. She wasn’t as tough as she pretended to be.

“Is Terrapin mean to you gals?” Reno asked the new cook, slowing his stride to match her shorter steps. “Does he hit you, beat you?”

“Sometimes.” She shrugged. “I hope he won’t be too disturbed about me leaving. I’m the oldest he’s got and not many of the regulars ask for me. Little Nugget is different. He’s real possessive of her.”

“He won’t hurt her?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. She thinks she can handle him.” She gave a sniff of derision. “Thinks that if she acts like a lady, she’ll be treated like one. She’s young and doesn’t know that some men are evil to the core and will strike out when they feel threatened. Kill, even. Terrapin’s like that. No woman is safe around him.”

Reno frowned and stuffed that into a corner of his mind. Placing a smile on his face, he winked at his companion. “I think you’ll like it at the restaurant.”

She laughed humorlessly. “Mister, I think I’d like it just about anyplace where I don’t have to lie down and spread my legs.” She gave him a sharp-eyed look. “You sure your new missus will want me around? I never heard of her hiring any saloon girls before.”

“Why, she’ll be as proud as a hen with her first chicks to hire you, Mrs. McDonald,” he assured her, wondering if she could tell he was lying like a rug.

*     *     *

Adele closed the door to her private quarters slowly and turned to face Reno. She wanted very much to yell and scream and call him every vile name she could conjure, but she refused to allow him to reduce her to a red-faced shrew.

“You had no right to hire that woman as my cook,” she said, proud of her level tone and her logical words.

“You told me to hire someone,” Reno reminded her with an insolent grin.

“I run a respectable establishment and I can’t have that kind of woman here. You’ll have to tell her you made a mistake and she must leave.”

“I didn’t make a mistake. Did you hear any complaints from your customers? No, because they were too busy shoveling her food down their gullets. She beats that other cook of yours all to hell, so why would you want to fire her?”

“You know why. She is a … a soiled dove.”

Reno rolled his eyes. “Will you listen to yourself?” He stepped closer, and she flattened herself against the door. “I should think you’d be the first one in town to offer your help to the downtrodden.” He pointed behind her. “That woman out there was desperate to leave her life as a
soiled dove
. I offered her a way out and she took it. I thought you’d be happy to lend her a hand. If you don’t approve of the work they do, then you should be eager to do what you can to get them out of that business.”

He was making sense. She hated that. “Naturally I want to help if I can, but what if it gets around that she was once a … a lady of the evening? What will the customers think about that?”

Reno made an off-hand gesture. “Most of your customers are passing through town and couldn’t care less about who is cooking up the vittles in the back room. Come on, Dellie, give Mrs. McDonald a chance.” He grinned and gave her a sly wink. “She’s a big improvement over that dog-faced crone.”

Adele ducked her head to hide her smile. She didn’t want him to think all was forgiven. “That’s true, but from now on I won’t allow you to hire and fire anyone at this restaurant. I am the manager of this place, not you.”

“I was only doing what you told me to do.”

“Yes, I know.” She edged away from the door and walked past him, pausing on the threshold of her bedroom. “Why have you placed your belongings in my room?”

He rubbed his jaw, baffled. “Where else would I have placed them?”

“Not in my room, I assure you.” She gave a flick of her wrist. “You’ll have to remove them. I have secured quarters for you out back in that shed. It used to be for … well, for servants who—”

“For the slaves,” he finished, folding his arms against his broad chest and pinning her with a dark scowl.

“Yes, that’s right. A good sweeping out and it will be fine. I’ll put a cot in there and—”

“No, thanks. I’ll sleep in there.” He nodded at the room behind her.

Adele glanced over her shoulder, then whipped back around to face him. “In my bedroom? No, you’ll sleep out back.”

He shook his head. “I’ll sleep with you. That bed
is plenty big enough for two if we cuddle real close.”

An image of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms in her narrow bed flashed in her mind and sent a quiver of awareness through her. Adele closed her eyes tightly for a moment to ward off the vision.

“Reno, you know quite well that I have no intention of being intimate with you. I think now is a good time to establish some rules.” She moved from the threshold and paced in front of the sofa. “The quarters out back will be yours. I won’t have you sporting with other women and embarrassing me further. I have a reputation to uphold in this town. I won’t have you tarnishing it with your behavior.”

“Stop right there.” He lifted one hand, palm out. “Just how am I supposed to scratch my manly itches if we keep separate bedrooms and you don’t want me hanging around other women?”

She felt her face flame, but she strove to keep a passive countenance. “Ignore those itches. Women do it all the time. I’m certain you can abstain if you set your mind to it.”

To her surprise he laughed and seemed genuinely amused. She sat primly on the sofa, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for him to get serious again.

“Dellie, you are a blue ribbon, you are. What if I don’t want to ignore my itches?” He shook his head, warding off her answer. “No, save your breath. Sugar, I know you don’t like this, but I’m not sleeping in any slaves’ shed, so get that out of your mind. If you won’t let me sleep with you, then I’ll use that cot you mentioned.” He looked around the parlor and indicated a space near the window. “I’ll set it up there.
You can rant about it all you want, but it won’t change anything. I’m not about to sleep outside in that drafty, old shed. Why, even the cats won’t go in there.”

She could tell by the hard edge to his voice that he meant what he said.
Blast him!
Why couldn’t he simply follow the rules? She decided to concede the point and press on to the next one. “You will work at the restaurant, and I expect you to pull your load and not be a layabout. I don’t know what you’re used to or what you thought life would be here, but everyone here works hard. You will be no exception. Honest work will do you good. My mother always said that kicking a man when he’s down is sometimes the only way to make him get back up.”

Reno’s expression changed from pleasant to poisoned. The muscles in his jaw twitched and his mouth thinned to a straight line. Adele drew in a cautious breath, realizing too late that she’d overstepped.

“You know, Dellie, if I didn’t think so much of you, I’d saddle a horse and leave you to the gutless, heartless life you’ve carved out for yourself here. I keep remembering the girl you were in Lawrence and I cling to that.”

“Heartless? Gutless?” Angry tears stung her eyes. “My life is exemplary compared to yours.” She stood and walked briskly to the door, his words hurting her more than she cared to admit. “There are potatoes to be peeled and a kitchen to clean. You’re going to be the new cook’s assistant and your duties begin right now.”

Reno watched her flounce out and imagined applying the toe of his boot to her swaying backside. He
whirled, wanting to send a lamp crashing to the floor or to plow his fist through a wall, but he fought back the demons and took a few deep breaths.

It galled him that she had him pegged for a penniless drifter, a lazy no-’count. She was used to everyone jumping when she gave an order, but he refused to allow her to treat him like a servant. Every once in a while he saw a glimmer of the girl he knew in her eyes, in the tilt of her head, in her gestures. He had loved that girl, loved her so much he had never been able to forget her.

What she needed was someone to stand up to her, to loosen her corset and unpin her hair. She didn’t know it yet, but she needed him.

He’d sleep on a cot in the parlor for now, but he meant to win his way into her bed and into her heart. For now, he’d live up to her low opinion of him and do as little as possible to please her. The potatoes could rot and the kitchen could stay dirty. Grabbing his coat and hat from the hall tree, he ducked out the back door and headed for town and a poker game at the Red Queen Gaming Hall.

T
oward the end of the evening, when the moon had slipped below the horizon, a heavy hand landed on Reno’s shoulder. He shifted in his chair, pressed his cards closer to his chest, and looked up into a stranger’s smile. The man wore an eye patch. Reno had a faint memory of seeing him on the train to Whistle Stop.

“Mr. Terrapin would like a word with you.”

“I’m in the middle of a card game, pal,” Reno said, glancing around at the other players. They all looked decidedly nervous.