She found the telegraph office closed and the door locked. Disappointed, she hurried home. She needed to be home by noon, and not just for the sheriff. Annie V. would come around then to pick up her apple pandowdy.
When Annie V. left, Trixianna took a cup of tea to the side porch, where she could enjoy the afternoon sun and watch the Grand Fork townsfolk go about their business.
She had just sat down when she spotted Chance standing on the boardwalk across the street. He stood in a small group of men. Even with his head inclined as if listening intently, he towered over the others. He wore his Stetson pulled low, shading his eyes. The star pinned to his blue chambray shirt glimmered briefly as he turned toward a thin man dressed in a dusty shirt and trousers tucked into muddy boots.
She heard Chance’s laughter, a deep throaty sound that sent shivers up her spine. One man said something else, causing Chance to throw back his head and hoot with obvious enjoyment. She watched, mesmerized, as he caught his hat just before it toppled off the back of his head. He held the Stetson in one hand, absentmindedly finger-combing his hair with the other. He shook his head at some quip from another fellow, and again she heard his deep chuckle.
One man, quite ungentlemanly, pointed rudely in Trixianna’s direction. All those male eyes turned toward her. The tiny hairs along her arm rose. She swallowed hard.
Chance lifted his head and glanced at her, then said good-bye to the group. They dispersed and went on their way. Meanwhile, Chance started across the street. He settled his hat at a jaunty angle as he walked.
He approached slowly, his steps unhurried. He stopped at the gate, pushed it open and sauntered down the walkway. When he came around the side of the house where she sat on the side porch, he stopped. He leaned against the rail with his arms crossed over his chest. He tipped his hat. “Miss West.”
“That’s Lawless, Sheriff.”
“So you say.” He leaned his arms on the porch railing, stared at her and waited for a reply.
Trixianna sipped her tea and kept her eyes away from his discerning gaze. Although he infuriated her and she wanted to make a nasty remark, she refused to demean herself in that manner. She turned her attention to the activity on the street as if her stomach weren’t churning or her anger simmering.
“You know, Maggie,” he drawled, “you’re quite the mystery.”
Curiosity got the better of her. She looked up at him. “Oh, how’s that?”
“You just drop down here in our little town all by your lonesome. You expect me and all the good folks of Grand Fork to believe you’re just taking a little holiday. Now, that isn’t normal. You may be making a little money baking those pies, but it sounds to me as if you’re hiding. Maybe it’s from the Dena Valley sheriff, maybe not.”
Trixianna ducked her head. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You don’t act like it, Miss West. I expect Grand Fork is as good a place as any to hide, but I don’t much care for your choice. Besides…”
The corners of his mouth quirked up and a devilish look came into his eyes. “You’ve got the men and the boys all in a muddle. Where you’re concerned, they don’t know whether they’re coming or going.”
Truly confused herself, she asked, “Why is that? I haven’t had a conversation with any of them, except Burnsey and you.”
He chuckled. “That’s part of the mystery. They see you walkin’ down the street taking your pies and such to Sinclair. You’ve got that red hair all put up and hidden beneath a hat, and you wear those ugly gray dresses all buttoned up tight. Why, you look prudish, all prim and proper, just like their wives and sisters. You sure as hell don’t seem like a hardened criminal.”
“Perhaps because I’m not. And my dresses are not ugly.”
“And then there’s those underthings you wear.”
Her cheeks burning, she jumped up and exclaimed in irritation, “That’s nobody’s business but—”
“In Grand Fork it’s everyone’s business,” he interrupted. His eyes flashed with humor. “You’d best get used to it if you plan on staying around.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I guess you don’t have much choice ‘bout that, now do you?”
Trixianna sank onto her chair. Chance patted her shoulder. “Listen, one of the things those men across the way were discussing is your chocolate cake. It didn’t last through dinner. Why, Sinclair himself said it was the best he’d ever tasted, and he never says much of anything agreeable. That should make you happy.”
It did. Her mood brightened; she smiled. She picked up her tea and took a sip of the cooled drink. “What did that one man say that had you and the others laughing so hard? It was about me, wasn’t it?”
He cleared his throat, then smiled without malice. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was an apologetic smile. “Maggie, I don’t believe you’d care to hear.”
“Trixianna,” she reminded him.
“Whatever you want to be called doesn’t matter. That conversation wasn’t for womanly ears.”
“Since I’m under arrest, I think I have a right to know what the people are saying about me. After all, they might decide to lynch me or something.”
He released a short huff of disgust. “I doubt it. What’s the matter? Don’t you think I can protect you? This here’s Grand Fork, not the big city. Besides, you didn’t hurt these folks none. It was those poor citizens in Dena Valley you robbed.”
“I didn’t rob anyone.” She sought his gaze. “But I’d like to know what’s being said all the same.”
“Fine by me, lady, but don’t holler later that I didn’t warn you.”
“All right. That’s fair.“
“That Ed James is a clodhopper who can cuss like a muleskinner. His language is so ripe I don’t even know all the words he uses.” He scratched his chin. “Are you sure ‘bout this?”
No, not at all sure. She plucked the hem of her bodice. “Yes.”
Chance shook his head, then pulled his hat low over his eyes. He turned away, and said in a low voice, “I know it doesn’t much matter much to you, but I don’t generally talk in front of women this way.”
If nothing else, the anticipation would kill her. “Go on, Sheriff.”
Chance cleared this throat. “He said he didn’t care if you robbed a bank, or stole his dog, you were a damned fine-lookin’ gal and he’d take to you warmin’ his bed any night of the week.”
“You laughed at that?” she said, hurt and disappointed.
“Hell, no.” He shifted his stance, then bent forward and clasped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I laughed when he said he’d marry you just for your chocolate cake.”
His eyes held hers, his hand lingered a moment, then he released her chin.
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
He chuckled, deep in his throat. “Just say you’ll make me one.”
“Of course. Anytime,” she replied. “But I don’t understand.”
He straightened away from her. “What?”
“Why would a man marry me just for my cake-baking?”
He snorted in derision. “He wouldn’t.”
“Then why?”
He shook his head. “You are either the most simple-minded person in the state of Kansas or the most innocent. I can’t decide which.” His jaw clenched, and she watched, fascinated, as a muscle twitched in his cheek. “Maggie, he wants you in his bed, regardless of your way around the kitchen. It’s your ability in the bedroom he’s concerned with.”
Her cheeks burned. “Oh, my stars.”
“Yeah, oh, my stars.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “Now, is there anything else you’d like to know? Maybe a little lesson about the birds and the bees, or maybe you’d like to know how they geld a stallion? I know a story that would curl your—”
“Go back to work, Sheriff.”
“With pleasure, Miss West.” He started to cross to the other side of the street. Halfway there, he turned and called over his shoulder. “Now don’t go running of
f. You promised me a cake. Chocolate is my favorite.”
Trixianna watched Chance walk away, her fingers clutching the teacup, her eyes taking in his purely masculine form. She thought his Levi dungarees fit rather indecently. The muscles beneath the fabric flexed and molded his legs and buttocks as he walked. Why had she never noticed a man’s posterior before? Because it wasn’t ladylike to look. But more likely, because she’d never been attracted to a man as she was to the sheriff. He moved with long, purposeful strides that accentuated every powerful inch of him. His footsteps echoed off the boardwalk until she no longer heard them as he rounded a corner and disappeared from her not-so-discreet view.
She released her breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it.
Had she been insulted by all he’d said? She supposed she should be more embarrassed by the men talking about her, but somehow when Chance explained it, it didn’t seem so terribly bad. He’d certainly given her some interesting things to think about.
She could understand why they’d be discussing her underpinnings. They were pretty…unusual. She’d never felt such luxury against her skin before. When she pulled the chemise over her head and down her body, the fabric caressed her flesh, causing gooseflesh. The pantalets with soft, pink and blue ribbons adorning them were prettier than any she’d ever worn. She wasn’t sorry she’d packed so quickly to leave Abilene that she’d forgotten those things. At the time, she’d been somewhat preoccupied worrying whether Georgette was going to do something dreadful like murder her in her bed.
She sorely missed her sister, but she refused to dwell on it. What was done was done. Only time would heal Georgette’s hurt feelings and make her realize her sister loved her and would never do anything to ruin their relationship.
Trixianna hopped to her feet. She’d better get to the kitchen and start on that cake. Maybe it would soften the sheriff up. Ha! As if anything so mundane as a chocolate dessert would make him forget who he thought she was—a lying, cheating, criminal who deserved to be in a real jail, not lying about his home making pies for the restaurant and pandowdy for the saloon gals.
Chance grinned as he sauntered down the boardwalk toward his office. He tucked his thumbs in his gun belt. Why that saucy Maggie West hadn’t even batted an eye. Sure, her face grew as red as a rooster’s comb and she squirmed with nervous excitement, but she didn’t back down. He gave her credit. She had balls. His grin grew wider. No, she had grit. She certainly did not have balls. She had a bosom that made him think of heaven whenever she heaved it in righteous indignation. Her narrow waist begged for a man’s hands. His hands. Her eyes sparkled and shone like light through an open door. He thought he could read her every thought in that tantalizing green gaze. She was keeping a secret, all right, but no one was going to tear it out of her. Not even a stubborn sheriff telling her things no woman should hear. By God, he respected her for that.
* * *
After supper, Chance ate half the chocolate cake. And that, after devouring three bowls of bean soup, and several slices of fresh-baked oat bread. Trixianna thought by morning he would be sorry.
He pushed back from the table rubbing his belly. “If I ate like that every day, I’d look like Frank Fairfax in no time.”
Fanny Fairfax, don’t you mean? Trixianna berated herself for having such a mean-spirited thought. But that sweet girl Chance would soon be marrying was a mite plump.
“I think I’ll take a stroll round town just to make sure everything’s locked down tight.” He glanced at Trixianna, up to her elbows in hot soapy water. “If you want to wait, I’ll help you with those. I’ll only be about ten minutes.”
She waved him away with a hand dripping suds all over the floor. “You go on. When you get back, I have something I’d like to discuss with you. Something personal.”
He quirked a brow, his Stetson gripped in his fingers. “Would that be a confession by any chance?”
She glanced over her shoulder and gave him what she hoped was a look of disgust.
Apparently it wasn’t, because he chuckled. “I’m looking forward to that ‘something’. I admire a good bedtime yarn.”
He left her then, still chortling. His deep laughter echoed in the room long after he’d departed.
Trixianna arranged her skirts and sat on the sofa. She folded her hands in her lap. Her heart was in her throat, her mouth dry as yesterday’s oatmeal. She detested talking about herself, especially when the problem with Georgette really amounted to nothing more than making a mountain out of a molehill.
From the opposing corner of the floral serpentine-backed couch, Chance waited for her to speak. His silence spoke volumes about his composure. His arm rested along the back. His booted feet stretched out in front of him were crossed at the ankles. He was the picture of a calm, assessing lawman.
Trixianna thought she knew better. With his hat hung on a peg by the door, his eyes were hers to observe. Caught in the glimmer of the firelight, they flashed with impatient expectation, not calm.
“Go ahead, Miss West, I’m waiting to hear your tale.”
She released a long breath. “There once were two sisters who lived together. Their mother passed away when they were quite young, and their father only recently. They had a granny living still.” Her voice broke with fond remembrance. She cleared her throat and began again. “But their granny preferred to live alone. She was a tad eccentric, and although she loved the girls, she kept pretty much to herself. These two sisters were as alike as any two could be, until one day one of them fell in love.”
“You?” asked Chance. His pale eyes glowed with wry contemplation.
“May I continue?”
He bowed his head. “Go ahead. It sounds like a good story already.”
“Well, she married, and the new brother-in-law moved in with the two sisters.”
His eyebrows rose in amazement. “Whoa! Did they share him?”
Trixianna’s cheeks burned. She gave him a hostile glance. “I should say not.”
“Hey, don’t get riled. I just asked. I want to have my facts straight when I relate this here story to the Dena Valley sheriff.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. He shrugged his shoulders, his wry expression urging her to continue. “The unmarried sister loved her new brother.” At his amused look, she shot him a look of distaste. “Not like that. Anyway, they were getting along fine. Her brother-in-law had a good position as an undertaker, and all was fine until three months into the marriage.”
“Ah-ha. She wanted him for herself. Am I right?”
“Will you be quiet so I can tell my story?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Anyway, the man bought his new wife a figurine for their three month anniversary and—”
“What?” He slapped his thigh with the palm of his hand and gave Trixianna an unbelieving stare. “A three month anniversary present! Good God. I hope Fanny doesn’t expect that. I have trouble coming up with a birthday present once a year. Now I’ll have anniversaries, too, but once every month? That’s not even good common sense.”
“I believe, Sheriff, that this young gentleman loves his wife so much that he enjoys buying her gifts.”
He shook his head. “No, I can’t credit that. Not a bit. Why, no man likes to buy silly frew-fraws unless he’s plumb loco.”
“Jonathan isn’t crazy!”
He stared, complete surprise on his face. “All right, Jonathan isn’t loco, but I for sure am not buying any presents for my wife. No sir.” He shook his head again.
Trixianna rolled her eyes. This man was so obtuse. She watched him closely. He kept shaking his head, his mouth thinned to a narrow line, his brows drawn together.
He turned his gaze on her. His expression stilled. A thin smile spread across his lips. “All right. That had me going, but you can go on. I’m really riveted to your story now.”
“Well, one day when he came home with his lovely gift, he wanted to show it to his sister-in-law. He took her to the bedroo
m and—”
Chance’s brows rose nearly to his hairline. He did a poor job of muffling his laughter, and waved his hand for her to continue.
“And beneath the bed, he pulled out the present. When the two of them heard the wife come in, they hurried to hide it. When they tried to stash it beneath the bed, the sister’s dress caught on a loose floorboard and she lost her balance. He tried to help, but they became entangled, he with his back bent over hers, she with her skirt and petticoat revealing more than it covered. It was all very embarrassing, and, of course, shocking to the other sister when she walked into the room. You can imagine what she thought.”
Chance took one look at Trixianna and snickered, then chuckled. Before long he was bent over his knees howling with laughter. Tears streamed down his face. His broad shoulders shook with mirth. He stopped a moment, glanced at her again and burst into peals of laughter.
“This isn’t funny,” she said.
He pulled himself together enough to reply in a shaky voice. “Yes, it is.”
“No, it most certainly is not. Why, my own sister flew into a rage. She threatened me with bodily harm.”
With the back of his hand, he wiped tears from his cheeks. “She blamed you then?”
“Yes. She said I wanted to steal her husband. Can you imagine?”
“That you would steal someone’s husband? Not really. Then what happened?”
“I didn’t know what to do. Jonathan and I agreed that the best thing to do would be to just leave for a while and let her cool off. She has a bit of a temper.”
“So, you’re telling me that the reason you’re here in Grand Fork is because of a silly misunderstanding with your sister?”
“Yes. That’s it exactly.”
He snorted. “That is about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s the truth.” She rose to her feet.
He leaned back against the sofa. A gleam came into his eyes. “Have you thought of taking your little fairy-tale show on the road? I bet you could make a small fortune.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”