Just After Midnight: Historical Romance (3 page)

The girls shuffled away, but Queen remained at her side. Megan spared a grateful glance for the woman, but Queen’s wary gaze stayed focused on the huge man. Megan quickly returned her attention to Ian McMurphy. She tilted her neck back, then back even further, to look into his face.

“Heard you came to town, little girl.” The giant’s voice boomed, causing Megan to flinch. The room had gone silent, the few patrons who remained moving closer to observe the confrontation.

Megan drew herself up to her full five feet eight inches, though she no doubt looked like a dwarf next to Queen and McMurphy. “How can I help you, sir?” She made her voice as cold as she’d heard the Yukon turned in December.

The shadow of a smile played around his lips before he spoke. “Well, missy, had my eye on this place for a long time now. I don’t have a dance hall and I’ve decided I want one. Your father wasn’t much, but he knew how to start a business.”

Megan bristled at the insult but attempted to keep the confrontation civil. “The Celebration isn’t for sale, Mr. McMurphy. I am perfectly capable of taking care of the place myself.”

Ian glanced at her clenched fists, and this time the smile he turned upon her was genuine. “So, you’re a fighter. That’s good. I haven’t had to fight for what I wanted in a long, long time. This should be interesting.”

“Leave the child alone,” Queen said. “Go pick on someone your own size.”

“Like you?” His face softened and he laughed, the sound something between a chuckle and a growl. “I’d be delighted.”

McMurphy made a move toward Queen; but before he could complete his intent, a voice from the doorway halted him in midstride. “McMurphy, you’ve been warned to stay out of trouble.”

A shiver of awareness ran down Megan's spine as she met the angry blue eyes of Alex Carson.

“Carson, why is it you always show up where you’re not wanted?” McMurphy swung his immense body across the room and jammed his face close to the Mountie’s. “I’m getting a mite tired of you pesterin’ me.”

With admirable calm, the lieutenant stepped forward and jabbed his forefinger against the man’s massive chest. “Pestering is my job. Especially when it involves bullies who delight in snatching others’ hard-earned property. What are you doing here? This place belongs to Miss Daily now.”

The lieutenant never glanced at Megan, and her name came off his lips sounding as if he found the taste of the words sour. Nevertheless, she was impressed with the way he stood up to the mountainous man. Ian McMurphy scared her witless, though her years of dealing with rough men had schooled her not to show any fear in their presence.

After several seconds of tense silence, McMurphy bowed stiffly to Megan and Queen. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure. I’ll be back when things are less stifling.” McMurphy brushed past Alex without a glance, and the crowd parted in a backward rush as he marched to the door.

“He’s a nasty one.” Alex had moved so close his breath brushed Megan’s neck and she started. “You should stay clear of him.”

Megan trembled at the sensation and stared into the lieutenant’s eyes. For a moment she glimpsed something akin to concern in the blue depths before they became shuttered and cold once again. “If you’re smart, you’ll sell your time to anyone but Big Ian.”

If he wanted to believe the worst of her, she wouldn’t disappoint him. Smiling coyly as she’d observed other women do when they dealt with men, Megan ran her fingertip down the side of Alex Carson’s face. “I have no need to sell my time. But if I did, perhaps you’d be interested, Lieutenant Carson.”

Her finger tingled from the warmth of his face and the stubble shading his jaw. Their eyes met and suddenly she no longer felt like teasing the man. Something hot and dangerous had come to life there.  Megan jerked her finger away from his face.

Alex continued to stare at her for a moment. Then he turned on his shiny-booted heel and left without another word.

“I don’t think you should tease the poor boy. Unless, of course, you’re interested in what your teasing might give rise to.” Queen cackled and slapped Megan on the back so hard she stumbled foreword. The woman caught her arm. “Sorry. I forget my own strength sometimes, and you’re such a skinny, little thing. You know that lieutenant’s got a reputation around here for being as cold and hard as ice in January. Those blue eyes are like to give me the shivers.”

Megan continued to stare out the door through which Alex Carson had disappeared. What an infuriating, confusing man.

She was not used to confusion. Especially where men were concerned. The life she’d lived had given her a knowledge of men’s ways. They might come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, but a man was a man was a man. Smart women steered clear of the entire species. The only man she had ever had the slightest use for was her father, and he had been as dependable as a gold mine.

Thoughts of her father brought tears, and Megan swallowed over a thick knot in her throat. Without saying good night to anyone, she fled up the stairs.

Slamming the door of her room behind her, Megan leaned against the heavy oak. How was she ever going to go on without her father? He hadn’t been dependable, but she’d always known there was someone in the world who needed her, who loved her. She had made herself into the kind of daughter he would always want at his side, but she had never considered he might die and leave her alone forever. The desolation and fear she had felt as a thirteen-year-old girl, left with a woman she barely knew as she watched her last surviving parent walk away, rose up in a wave of sadness. With determination born through years of practice, she pushed away the pain and the loneliness, vowing to pour all her love into the business her father had left in her care.

CHAPTER THREE

Megan stood at the back door of The Celebration and cast her gaze over the dance hall. One week after her arrival . . . and the place became emptier every night. The girls’ glares had graduated from annoyed to hostile. She would be out several dancers if business didn’t improve soon; then Ian McMurphy would be able to take The Celebration without any fight, and she would be out on the street with nowhere to go in the world. If she weren’t careful, she could end up selling herself to stay alive. Then all of Alex Carson’s dire predictions would come true.

Megan opened the back door and stepped into the heat and sunshine of a Yukon evening in July. She found it hard to believe summer temperatures could reach 120 degrees when 70 degrees below zero was common during the nine-month winter. She lifted her face to the sun, leaned against the side of the building and closed her eyes. Just when she was beginning to relax, something cold and wet pushed against her hand, startling her. Megan’s eyes flicked open and she glanced down. The scream stuck in her throat.

Standing at her feet was the largest wolf she had ever seen—pure black and sleek, his head tilted to the side as he studied her. Megan held her breath while the huge animal leaned over to sniff her skirt. Seeming to recognize her, he wagged his tail and again pushed his nose into her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Megan tentatively patted the animal’s large head. The wolf rubbed against her good-naturedly.

“I wonder where you came from, boy?”

As if in answer, the wolf s hackles rose and a low rumble issued from his throat. Megan jumped, yanked her hand out of harm’s way as her heart thumped hard and fast. The animal had seemed so friendly. Then she saw he stared past her and toward the door.

“What’re you doin’ out here, Lovey? The show’s about to start.” As usual, the volume of Queen’s voice would have startled the dead. Her eyes went to the wolf and she gasped. “Damon! Where did he come from?”

“You know him?”

“I should say I do. That’s your father’s wolf— well, part dog, too, he thought. Brian took the animal with him wherever he went, and we all thought it was killed with Brian in the avalanche. Guess we were wrong.” Queen eyed the animal warily. “Too damned bad.”

“Don’t you like him?” The wolf now stood pressed against Megan’s knee, though he continued to grumble whenever Queen spoke. “He seems harmless enough.”

“Damon never could abide anyone but Brian. Your pa found him by the river and raised him up from a little tyke. He seems to have taken to you though. Maybe he knows you’re Brian’s kin. I don’t know as I’d trust him though.”

Damon shifted and growled. Megan glanced down to find the animal now glared at Queen, hackles still up. Ignoring Queen’s advice, she patted the mammoth head. At the touch of her hand, Damon relaxed and sat, staring up at her with open mouthed devotion.

“Maybe so, but what am I supposed to do with him?”

“That’s up to you. Right now I’ve got to get back to work. You comin’?”

After another glance at the wolf, Megan nodded and followed Queen inside. When she turned to shut the door, she saw that Damon was at her heels. “No, boy. You have to stay outside.” She knelt so she was at eye level with the animal. “Listen, if you stay here and behave, I’ll bring dinner later.”

The animal cocked its head, his odd yellow eyes seeming to bore into hers. Then he trotted out and curled up against the wall, tucking his nose beneath his tail. Megan gave a sigh of relief and closed the door. Since the wolf had belonged to her father, she would have to do something with the creature.

She followed Queen inside and stood with her at the rear of the dance hall. The sight of only a half-dozen men waiting for the show made Megan’s heart sink. She had been so hoping the crowds would improve as the miners became used to her.

“Another bad night,” Queen observed.

“I don’t want to hear about it, Queen. I just don’t.” Megan rubbed at the headache beginning between her eyes.

Hours later, the headache was no longer just beginning but had become a living, breathing entity in Megan’s brain. She sat at her usual table near the back and watched the unoccupied dancers glare at her.

“Well, missy, looks like business is really booming for you.”

Megan’s head thumped at the volume of Ian McMurphy’s voice next to her ear and she groaned. “What do you want, McMurphy?”

She was in no mood to be civil to anyone, least of all him. She might have been afraid of him on his last visit; now she was merely irritated. The impending loss of her dance hall made fear of anyone or anything seem irrelevant.

“Just thought I’d stop by and see if the rumors were true. At the rate your business is going out the door, you’ll have to pay me to take this place off your hands.” He laughed.

“You worry about your business and I’ll take care of mine.”

“You’re doing a great job so far.”

“Get out,” she said, though she didn’t bother to look at him.

He grabbed her by the arms and yanked her to her feet, “Look at me when we’re talking business.”

Though her feet now dangled above the floor, Megan looked into McMurphy’s angry eyes. “Put me down. Then get out.”

He let her go and she dropped to the floor; but before she could step out of his way, he placed a huge paw upon her shoulder. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready, missy.”

“My name’s not
missy
,” Megan snapped as she managed with no little difficulty to extricate herself from his clutches.

A black flash at the edge of her vision caused Megan to turn quickly, just in time to see Damon lunge for Ian’s throat. McMurphy was quick for his size and managed to ward off the animal with a swipe of his ham-like forearm. The dog fell to the floor, then rolled up and into a crouch, growling, teeth bared, as he prepared to leap again.

“Damon, no,” Megan shouted. The animal backed down, but the hair on his neck remained at attention as he trotted over to sit near her feet. He continued to emit low rumbles as he glared at McMurphy.

Megan looked up to meet the speechless gapes of Ian and the small group of employees who had gathered around.

“Only Brian could control him like that,” Queen said.

Megan swallowed the lump in her throat. “Now, I can.” She was surprised to find her headache had disappeared.

“Well, Mr. McMurphy, I suggest you leave my dance hall before I let Damon finish what he began.”

Ian warily eyed the dog as he backed toward the door. “I’ll be back when you’re out of business, Miss Daily. I’m sure you’ll be glad to see me then.”

As soon as McMurphy was out of sight, Megan collapsed into a chair. She patted Damon’s head and the dog stared at her with adoration.

“Who let him in?”

“Me.” Zechariah stood behind the bar. “McMurphy’s got quite a temper and it looked like you meant to rile him, so I let Damon on in. He must have decided you’re to be protected.”

“Lucky for me,” Megan said as she remembered what it felt like to be held captive in McMurphy’s huge hands.

“What did Ian say to you?” At the sound of Queen’s voice, Damon flattened his ears against his head and he snarled. Queen backed up a few steps, but the dog retreated at a snap of Megan’s fingers.

Megan ignored Queen’s question, answering instead the question that had haunted her own mind. “I’m not going to let that man have the only gift my father ever gave me. Not without a fight. You said a few changes in my appearance would help with the business.”

“Well—” Queen looked her up and down doubtfully “—I didn’t say just a few.”

Megan waved her hand at Queen’s skepticism. Now that she’d decided upon this, nothing would stop her from going forward. “Whatever it takes. Since we’re required to close at midnight to observe the Lord’s Day, do you think you can have me ready by show time Monday?”

“I can sure try. But you know it’s more than how you dress that needs changin’; there’s your attitude, too. There’s ways of lookin’ at a man, promisin’ without actually followin’ through.” She peered at Megan. “Still, I think with a little practice, we might just bring you up to snuff, Lovey. You’ve got the looks; that helps.” With a sigh she turned to the other dancers. “Come on, girls; we’ve got work to do.”

Megan snapped her fingers for Damon and followed Queen and the girls upstairs.

The evening of July third arrived, sunny and hot. Not unusual for July, except that in Dawson City the sun would continue to shine throughout the night. Since the majority of the population in Dawson City was American, not Canadian, the approaching holiday had brought everyone in the surrounding areas to town. As a result, the saloons and dance halls on Front Street were filled with miners and townsfolk. The Celebration was not excluded from the crush of people eager to commemorate the spirit of American independence. For the first time in a week, the dance hall was packed with men waiting for the show to begin.

Upstairs, Megan contemplated her reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bath, and her heart moved into her throat. What was she doing? The woman staring back at her bore no resemblance to the Megan Daily she knew so well. This woman was indeed Meggie O’Day, the name Queen had insisted she adopt with her new appearance.

“Megan is much too stiff,” Queen had told her earlier as she brushed Megan’s waist length hair. “To improve business you have to make the men feel comfortable with you. If you listen to me, Meggie O’Day can be the toast of this bog they call a town.”

“I hate to pretend I’m someone else,” Megan insisted.

“Lovey, how can you be someone else? That’s silly. It’s good business to present the merchandise to its best advantage.”

“I’m not merchandise,” Megan mumbled.

“I know you’re not, but
they
don’t know. Remember what I told you about men? They only believe what their eyes tell them is true. Keep ‘em guessing, and we’ll be the most successful dance hall this side of the Yukon River.”

Megan had relented in the end, and now she stood waiting to descend the stairs, mount the stage, and introduce the girls for their late-night show. Queen thought she should make an entrance and allow her new appearance to stir up the crowd. Megan wasn’t so sure, but she had decided to let Queen have her way in this.

The musicians began to play a lively tune and Megan gave her hair one last, unneeded, pat. The time had come to show herself to the world.