Deborah Camp (7 page)

“That’s better. Much better.”

“What brings you here this morning?”

“I came to return something.”

“You did?” She looked up at him, sitting so tall in the saddle, the dark fabric of his trousers pulled tautly across his muscled thighs. He leaned his forearm against the saddle horn, lowering his face closer to hers.

“You haven’t missed anything since yesterday?”

“No.” She shook her head, finding it difficult to think of anything other than his bluer-than-blue eyes.

“Not even a certain book?”

“Book?” Suddenly it came to her, and she gasped softly and covered her mouth with one hand. “Hell’s afire! The book I purchased at the church rummage sale—” She gasped again, this time at having the book presented to her by Theodore Dane. “Oh, thank you! I spent money I shouldn’t have on this and I would be kicking myself into next Wednesday if I couldn’t …” Uneasiness squirmed within her at Theo’s peculiar expression. Suddenly, she felt stripped. She looked away and only then realized why he was staring at her as if she were naked. Her unguarded words echoed in her. She’d cursed in front of him!

“You’re welcome, Regina,” he said, that knowing glint still in his eyes. “How about that coffee? Can you spare a cup?”

“Coffee … ummm, I guess.” She knew her cheeks were rosy pink as she took the book from him and turned away. “Come on in. A cup of coffee is the least I can offer after you’ve done so much for me.”

Theo swung out of the saddle and hitched his horse to the ring in the post outside. He admired the gentle sway of her hips as she moved across the porch and pulled open the screen door. Hell’s afire? He wondered where she’d picked that up. Perhaps there was more to Miss Regina Rose than met the eye.

“After you, Regina,” he said, gesturing with a nod of his head that she should go inside first. “It’s good of you to let me interrupt your day. I know your work is never done around here. Have you heard from Mrs. Nation since she left?”

“No, but I don’t expect to.” She led him into the small, windowless kitchen at the back of her modest home. “I thought maybe you came with word from Jack.”

“Jack? Oh, your brother. No. I haven’t seen or heard from him since last night.”

She set a cup and saucer on the table and poured aromatic coffee into it. “Where did he spend the night?”

“The Basin Street Hotel.” Theo placed his black hat in a chair and sat in one of the other four chairs around the table. “He might still be sleeping it off. If he comes around and starts trouble, you should go to the sheriff, Regina. Don’t let him beat on you just because he’s your kin.”

“I won’t.” She glanced at him, wondering if he sensed the cold fear she struggled with when she thought of Jack Beck. She tried not to show it, even tried not to feel it. But it was there. Dark and trembling and clammy. “It was very good of you to come to my aid last night, Mr.—that is, Theo.”
She offered a smile that he returned full-force. “You were coming around to return my book? I wondered later why you’d happened along at that moment.”

Theo tasted the coffee, then pushed out the chair nearest him. “Sit down a minute and be sociable.”

She poured herself some coffee and eased into the chair. He smelled of men’s toiletries and she wondered if he’d just left the barber’s.

“Trying to live thrifty, are you?”

Regina had to think a moment before she understood his questioning. “Oh, the book. Yes, I am. That is, I do. I was hoping the book will tell me how to do an even better job of it. One can’t pinch a penny too tightly these days.”

“Begging your pardon, but how
do
you make your living?”

“Mrs. Nation gives me room and board for my assistance here. We take in laundry and sewing, and I receive my share of that money.”

“Do you do a pretty good job with the laundry?”

“Yes, we do.”

“I’ve been looking for someone else to do mine. I’ve been using the Chinaman on Spring Street, but he’s so darned busy it sometimes takes him days to get my things done up. Maybe I’ll switch.”

“Naturally, we’d appreciate your business. Unfortunately, we’re not too busy, so we can promise to have laundry done by the next day.” She regarded him a moment. “Why are you being so cordial?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Are you feeling guilty for causing hardship on Mrs. Nation, and this is your way of making amends?”

He lounged back in the chair and delivered an
insolent smile. “Ginny, Ginny, Ginny, I thought we’d cleared the air about guilt.”

“
Don’t call me Ginny
.”

He held up a hand to placate her. “Very well, but get this straight, guilt and me are strangers. Even if I believed in such tripe, I have nothing to be guilty about. I was hired by Tom Wilson and I represent his interests. Period. If Mrs. Nation had talked to me first, I’d be filing papers in her name.”

She blinked at him, finding him hard to figure out. “You have no allegiance?”

“Sure. Whoever pays me gets my undivided attention.”

She shook her head. “How sad.”

“It’s the way the law works, honey.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t call me that.”

He smirked. “Can’t call you Ginny. Can’t call you honey. Maybe you should make a list of the things I can’t call you to save me some trouble.” He rested one arm on the table. “Personally, I think Ginny suits you.”

“So did my mother.” She heard the hard edge in her voice, the one that always showed up when she spoke of Lilah Rose. “She called me that. It was the name she used when she wanted me to do something for her. ‘Ginny, run to the saloon and get me a bottle, will you, baby? That’s a good girl. I love my gin and my Ginny.’” Regina pulled herself up short. Theo looked at her intently, his slashing brows knitted. Warm color flooded her cheeks. “M-more coffee?”

“Your mother drinks?”

“She’s dead.” She looked around, anxious for an escape. “The morning is wearing thin and I have so much work to do.”

“Work, work, work.” He made a
tsking
sound.
“A pretty woman like you should have more to fill her days than endless chores.”

She eyed him carefully, noting the self-assured smile and the teasing glint in his blue eyes. “You’re quite the womanizer, aren’t you, Theodore Dane? I’ve heard that you even wink at married women on public streets.”

“Me?” He spread a hand against his chest. “Must be this twitch I’ve got in my eye. Lots of women think I’m winking when I’m just twitching. Gets me in a pot of trouble every now and then.”

“Yes, I imagine it does.” She leaned to peek into his cup. He had one more swallow of coffee left. “Better drink up before that last sip is stone-cold.”

“You’ll warm me up if I get cold, won’t you?”

Shaken by his rough-velvet voice and half-lidded gaze, she pushed to her feet, reached for her cup, missed, and set it rolling. Theo stopped it before it could fall off the table edge.

“Nervous?” he asked, almost purring.

“You’re taking liberties with me, and I don’t care for it,” she said, her voice at a higher pitch than usual. Why did he make her so nervous? she wondered. Why couldn’t she laugh at his attempts to seduce her? Why did she tremble when he looked at her with that blatant interest making his eyes sparkle like sun-struck water? “Perhaps you see me as deprived, living and working here among women. Well, I’m not. I choose to be here, and I don’t miss the company of men.”

“Speaking for men in general, we sure do miss your company, Mistress Rosy.”

She scowled at him. “I must ask you to find amusement elsewhere, Mr. Dane.”

He rose slowly to his feet. “You just don’t like me, do you?” He mirrored her frown. “Now don’t go denying it, Mistress Rosy. I
know
you don’t like
me. I’m good at reading people, you see. Even when they try to hide their feelings … even when they try to act like they’re crazy about me … I can usually tell if they’re faking it. You’re faking it, Mistress Rosy.” He sighed wearily, propped his hands on his hips and shook his head with exaggerated stress. “You plain don’t like me. I wish I could figure out why that is. You wouldn’t be kind enough to enlighten me, would you?”

“I would.” She retreated a step to gain better balance. “I’m not able to stick my feelings in compartments as you do. My heart has no doors I can close. I feel compassion for people and I ache when someone is wounded.”

“Who’s wounded?”

“Look around you, Mr. Dane. Those living here and next door are victims of men like Tom Wilson. You help men to wriggle out of their responsibilities. I find it distasteful that you and Mr. Wilson and all the others like you can cling to whoever or whatever waves money in your face.”

“Carry Nation smashed up Tom’s saloon. You keep forgetting that little item.”

“She did it for every man, woman, and child ruined by the whiskey Mr. Wilson sells. He lets his customers get stinking drunk. He takes all their money when he knows good and well the money is needed for staples and rent. He allows men to get good and drunk and then go home to their poor families and take out their problems on them—with their fists and their ugly words.”

“Wilson does all that?” Theo scratched the top of his head. “He must be the busiest man in town.”

“You know what I’m talking about, so don’t act stupid.”

“The problem is, Mistress Rosy, you don’t know what
you’re
talking about. You’re making Tom responsible
for every man’s good sense in this town, and that’s not fair. He doesn’t pour drinks down anybody’s throat. He can’t be the conscience of every person in town.”

“He could show some moral obligation. He could set a limit on how many shots he’ll serve each customer.”

Theo raised a brow. “Shots? You know the jargon, don’t you?”

“Don’t change the subject. This town, every town, would be better off without open saloons. Why do you think they won’t allow women—other than barmaids—into them? They know the women would appeal to the men’s better senses and persuade them to leave the bar and go home. Sinmongers like Tom Wilson serve up one drink after another to make the men depend on their liquor so that they no longer have free will and can’t refuse—”

Theo yawned hugely and noisily. “Excuse me, Regina. I’m suddenly ready for a nap.”

“You asked for an explanation and I’m giving you one.”

“No, you’re lecturing me.”

“I’m telling you about how whiskey gets into the blood and poisons the mind and erodes the—”

He picked up his hat and turned his back on her. “Guess I’ll be taking myself over to Tom’s for a quick one before I tackle the rest of this day.”

“How dare you!” She grabbed his arm, seized by fury. “You can’t come into my home, accept my hospitality, and then treat me as if I’m no more than a—”

The shock of his mouth on hers silenced her. His arm circled her waist and brought her against his chest. She flattened her hands at his shoulders, but was too stunned to push him away. His lips
warmed against hers and the tip of his tongue raced across the seam before he set her from him.

Anger came to her rescue, giving her strength as she brought her open palm sharply across his cheek. She expected him to glower, but he grinned. Before she knew what he was about, his arm was around her waist again and she was his captive. His mouth moved over hers. She fought this time, pounding his shoulders, his back, his forearms. When he set her free, she gathered in a gulping breath and her hand lifted instinctively.

Theo wagged a finger. “Uh-uh-uh, Regina. Not unless you want tit for tat. Of course, I could go on kissing you all day, but I’m afraid you’ll loosen my teeth before too long.”

She lowered her hand, and he released a soft sigh. “You deserve worse, hurling one insult after another,” she said.

“Insults? You mean the kisses?”

“Those and that comment about going to Tom’s to drink when you know how I feel about such behavior. I hope you’re not already depending on liquor to get you through each day and make you sleep each night.”

He quirked one brow. “I don’t remember saying anything about going to Tom’s for a drink.”

“You most certainly did. You said you were going to grab a quick one before continuing—” Comprehension dawned and dried the words on her tongue. The devil! He was trying to make her think that he’d been talking about taking one of the saloon girls upstairs to a private room. Theo’s smirking grin added to her mortification, but she tipped up her chin and refused to crumble. “I’m not a dim-witted bumpkin, Theodore Dane. I know you’re trying to shock me, but you have only succeeded in sickening me.” She glided past
him, moving quickly along the hall to the front door, which she held open for him.

He moved without haste and stopped on the threshold to face her. “You’ve got every man—with the notable exception of me—scared to even smile at you on the street, much less ask you out for a social occasion. You could use a night out, Regina Rose, so I’ll ask you once more to go to the cotillion with me.” He fit his hat on his head, throwing his face in shadow. “Think before you refuse me. It might well be the last invitation you get, and you know you want to go. Your feet are itching to dance the reel.”

Overwhelming pride conquered her, making the lie come easily to her lips. “I can’t go with you, Mr. Dane. I’m going with Sheriff Stu.”

He issued a short bark of disbelief. “Does Stu know?”

“What do you think?” She looked outside in a pointed dismissal. “Good day, Mr. Dane.”

“Theo.”

She brought her gaze back to his. “Mr. Dane.”

He winced. “So much for gratitude.” Then he strode off the porch to his majestic horse.

Regina closed the door and, wasting no time, raced upstairs to her bedroom for her bonnet and gloves. She pulled on the light gray gloves as she ran downstairs to the hall mirror, where she positioned her bonnet over her sunny hair. The back door slammed shut and Lu came into the hall, arms full of freshly ironed linens. Her face was flushed and shiny with perspiration.

“Lu, I’m going out, but I’ll be back within the hour.”

“What about these linens? Want to deliver them to the Basin Street Hotel while you’re out?”

“No, I haven’t … Oh, give them here.” Regina took them and brushed past Lu. She took the back
path that cut through dense woods, a shorter route to town. She had to get there before Theo Dane, she thought, knowing he’d visit the sheriff soon and ask if what she’d told him was true. It wasn’t, but she’d make it true soon enough.