Smiling, the older woman flipped a wall switch. “And you have electric lighting down here. It will be costly to wire the upstairs, so I was saving back for that. Perhaps you’ll do well enough to take care of that soon. The clarity of light is so much better with electricity. It blinks once in a while, but mostly only at night when others in town are using the current, too. Mostly it’s steady and bright.” She pointed to a rear exit. “I do my wash in the back dooryard, weather allowing. In the winter, I bundle up my soiled things and take them up the street to Dorothy Chandler, a dear lady who also has the candle shop. Her husband is the town chimney sweep. An enterprising couple, the Chandlers. Jesse helps Dorothy in the laundry, and they do a fine job, in my opinion, for a fair price.”
Brianna grabbed Daphne’s hand as they ascended the stairs behind Mrs. Denny to see the living quarters. David’s boots resounded on the steps just behind them. Clarissa opened the door at the landing and led the way into a spacious kitchen. A round oak table, placed in front of a window that overlooked Main Street, was draped with a pristine white tablecloth. A blue-patterned cream pitcher and sugar bowl flanked a narrow stem vase that contained a single silk rose. Frilly curtains hung in graceful swags across a solid pull-down blind that was presently rolled up to let in the sunlight.
Brianna took in the white cabinetry, the cookstove, and a large deep sink with faucets, which told her hot and cold water had been piped in. She fell instantly in love. The sitting room was small but adequate and beautifully appointed with a horsehair settee, two matching chairs that shared an ottoman, and gleaming cherry tables draped with tatted lace. The fireplace at one side of the room was faced with red brick and topped by a thick oak mantel. Never in Brianna’s wildest dreams had she hoped to live anywhere so perfect. Small, yes, but ever so cozy and nicely decorated, and it even had a water closet—nothing so grand as David’s, but serviceable, with a washstand, flushable commode, and space in one corner for an aluminum bathtub.
“It’s lovely,” Brianna said. “It must break your heart to leave here, especially with all your personal touches remaining behind.”
“I want to travel light,” Clarissa said. “If I took everything dear to me, I’d need several large trunks. And, quite honestly, I hope to live with my elder son. All my things would be superfluous, and I’d probably just have to sell them. I can’t be bothered.”
Daphne ran around the kitchen, opening lower cupboard doors. “Mama, there’s pots and pans and all manner of things!”
“Daphne, mind your manners. Those are Mrs. Denny’s things for now.”
“Only for now,” Clarissa rejoined with a laugh. “And I will not for a second regret my departure. Not that it hasn’t been a wonderful place and served me well for years, but it’s time now for me to move on. I lost my dear husband ten years ago. My boys are in California. At this age, I yearn to live near them and my grandchildren.” She chuckled and rubbed her palms together. “I’m already packed to leave!”
Brianna laughed with her. “It appears, Mrs. Denny, that the end of your dream is the beginning of mine!”
“And mine!” Daphne cried. “A dress shop, Mama. Your very own dress shop!”
“Clarissa,” the older woman corrected, directing her gaze at Brianna. “I’m old, but I’m not that old.” She led the way to the bedrooms, which were situated at the back side of the kitchen. They were small but, like the rest of the apartment, decorated with thought and care. Brianna instantly decided that the one done in shades of rose with floral print wallpaper would be Daphne’s. “Well, young woman?” Clarissa eyed her expectantly. “Will I be catching the train for Denver this afternoon, or do you need more time to think about it?”
Brianna had barely been aware of David until then. He stood in the doorway behind her, one muscular shoulder resting against the jam. The toothpick he clenched between his teeth jutted out from one corner of his firm mouth. When she searched his gaze, he winked at her. “It’s your decision, not mine. If you’re ready to roll up your sleeves and get to work, I’m ready to write out a draft and call it done.”
Brianna turned back to Mrs. Denny. “Godspeed on your journey to California, Clarissa. I’ll take it!”
* * *
Forty minutes later, David followed Clarissa Denny, his wife, and Daphne from the bank out onto the boardwalk. As Clarissa said farewell with hurried hugs and handshakes, anxious to catch the train, David fingered the deed to the dress shop, eager to present it to Brianna with a flourish.
When the elder woman dashed away, however, Brianna waved a hand and refused to accept the document. “Not until we’ve drawn up our own contract, David.”
“Oh, bullshit.” He winced as the word slipped out. He’d been working really hard at cleaning up his mouth around Daphne. “You’re taking stubbornness a bit too far. We’ll do that over the next couple of days, I assure you, but for today, it’s time to celebrate!” He stuffed the papers into her hand and pressed her slender fingers around them. “You own a dress shop, Shamrock! And it comes with a really nice living area. For once in your life, can’t you just let loose and shriek with happiness?”
She fixed him with a startled green gaze. “Shriek?”
“Okay, I’ll settle for a jump and a skip. You own—no, you’re buying a business. Can’t you just—” David did a little skip and jump himself. “Come on, turn loose and be happy.”
“Yes, Mama!” Daphne grabbed Brianna’s hand and started bouncing about on her tiptoes. “It’s a beautiful shop, and now you have the keys! Let’s be happy!”
Brianna’s cheek dimpled in a small smile. “I can be happy without abandoning proper decorum.”
David gave up. The lady had way too much starch in her drawers.
“Can we sleep there tonight?” Daphne asked as they turned back to the dress shop, only two doors away. “I want the pink room! You and Papa can have the blue. Okay? The blue one is bigger.”
Brianna flashed David a startled look. He bit back a grin. Apparently she had just remembered that, for appearances, they would have to share a bedchamber. David planned to procure a cot from the jailhouse that he could sleep on, but he couldn’t very well remind Brianna of that in front of the child.
He fell in behind his ladies, his gaze fixed on the play of Brianna’s brown silk bustle. It was the new, less punctuated style, but the woman needed nothing to accentuate that ass. Just watching her walk made his mouth go dry. Her narrow waist, no doubt cinched in by a corset, filled his mind with images of settling his hands on her hips. Even better, he would have loved to loosen all those stays, strip her down to bare skin, and tug all that glorious hair loose to let it spill in curly clouds over her ivory shoulders and down her slender back. Damn. He had a bad itch, and for the first time in his life, he knew of only one woman who could scratch it.
Just then, he looked up the street and saw Hazel Wright marching up Main, apparently finished for the day at school. She wore a pretty pink dress with a white shawl draped around her shoulders. Even at a distance, her eyes bored holes into him. Shit. David had never run from a confrontation in his life, but the infuriated expression on Hazel’s face told him she was fighting mad. She’d clearly heard that David had returned from his mysterious journey with a wife and child, and even he had to concede that she had every right to an explanation. He’d come damn close to proposing marriage to the woman and had even given her a costly necklace.
Problem was, he and Brianna hadn’t agreed on the explanation that he and Ace had cooked up yet. Whatever he said to Hazel would spread through No Name like wildfire, and his first responsibility was to protect Brianna and Daphne from public censure, no matter what. He jerked to a halt, noted the indignant angle of Hazel’s head, and said, “Brianna, I just remembered some stuff I need to take care of at my office. How’s about I do that while you and Daphne explore the shop and apartment again?”
Brianna turned, her eyes glowing with excitement. “All right. When you’re ready to head back to the ranch, just tap
on the door.”
David lifted a hand in casual farewell and spun on his heel, hoping his wife wouldn’t watch where he went. Instead of entering his office, where Hazel could follow, he walked a few more feet and dove through the batwing doors of the Golden Slipper. No lady who valued her reputation would even stand in front of the place, let alone enter it.
David took up a hiding position just inside the doors, his shoulder pressed hard against the plank wall. Seeing him, Mac called out from the bar. “Well, howdy, Marshal Paxton. Good to see you back! I heard you came home with some extra baggage.”
David winced. He did not want his wife and child being referred to as baggage. But right then he had Hazel to think about. She could be bold. What if she marched right up to the entrance and demanded to speak with him? He needed a story to tell her, and he didn’t have one. Not one that had Brianna’s stamp of approval yet, anyway. He didn’t feel right about circulating it around town until she agreed to it. He and Ace thought it was a pretty rock-solid explanation, but Brianna might want to add her own embellishments.
He ignored Mac and edged out from the wall to peek around the doorjamb. Where was Hazel? He poked his head out over the batwings. Where had she gone? A woman couldn’t just vanish off the street. Oh, God. David pictured her in the dress shop, lacing Brianna up one side and down the other. Hey, he could understand that Hazel’s feelings might be hurt, but he didn’t want her taking it out on his wife. None of this was Brianna’s fault.
Just then a door slammed a short distance away, the impact so violent that the floor shuddered under David’s feet. He cringed. Between the Golden Slipper and the dress shop were the marshal’s office, the bank, and the milliner’s shop. He couldn’t tell by the report which door it might have been. Easing his head around the corner of the jamb, he saw Hazel leaving his office. Her honey brown hair shone rich in the sunlight, her eyes flashed with tears, and even to a man who wanted to avoid her at all costs, she was undeniably a fine figure of a woman.
David would have settled for her once, but those times were far behind him now. Life with Brianna might be a rough ride some of the time, but by comparison, Hazel seemed as bland as flour-and-water gravy with no salt for flavor.
“You hiding from Hazel Wright, Marshal?” Mac asked with a lilt of suppressed humor in his voice. “I’m sorry for laughing, but you have to admit it’s funny. I’ve seen you walk out and face gunmen on that street. How can one small woman make you huddle up and quail with fear?”
David straightened away from the wall. Marcy May, wearing a red dress, the bodice of which barely covered her nipples, came sashaying around a table toward him. With a sweep of his gaze, David noted that the saloon had no customers yet. He reckoned it was still too early in the day.
“Ah, now, Mac,” Marcy crooned, “leave the marshal be. Miss Wright is in a fine dither. She had a nice fish on her hook, and he’s wiggled free of the barb.” Marcy May hugged David’s arm, pressed close, and squished her half-covered breast against the side of his elbow. “No worries about me, Marshal Paxton. My hook is barbless. You can come nibble on my bait and then slip away without a struggle any old time. Looks to me like you got woman trouble, and I know just the cure for what ails you.”
Right then, the last thing David figured he needed was another woman to complicate his life. Hazel had disappeared down the street. Marcy May and her henna-streaked hair. She was a fair one, and David suspected she did well upstairs, but he wasn’t interested. That said, she was a sweet enough lady, and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Well, now, Marcy May, that is a mighty appealing hook you’re dangling in front of my nose, but I’m married, right and proper, and it isn’t in my makeup to cheat on my wife.”
Marcy was young in years but old at her trade. She just smiled. “I prefer married men. They know how to treat me nice.” She flashed a saucy grin. “You’ll be back to see me, Marshal. Appears to me your wife is one of them proper ladies, and they ain’t no fun. I know how to show a man a good time. You just remember that.”
David pulled away from her. She pouted her lips but didn’t try to hang on. After checking again to make sure the way was clear, David slipped out of the saloon and practically fell into his office. Once the door was closed and locked, he wanted to jerk off his hat and mop his face. He had a bad feeling that Hazel wasn’t going to let this go without a nasty showdown.
With a grunt, Sam got up from his napping spot behind the stove. David had left the dog in his office while they toured the shop and apartment. There was no sign of his deputy, Billy Joe, who was probably out making rounds.
“Hey, boy,” David said, scratching the dog behind his ears.
A folded piece of paper lying on his desk blotter caught his eye. He opened it and read the angry slash of a feminine hand.
You are a low-down, conniving, rotten, philandering skunk, and I will never forgive you for humiliating me the way you have. One way or another, I will see to it that you live to regret the day you were born.
“Whew,” David said softly. Glancing down at Sam, he said, “She’s in high dudgeon, that’s for sure. How should I deal with this? You got any bright ideas?”
Sam lay on his belly, crossed his white paws over his eyes, and let loose with a mournful whine.
David didn’t want to cut the fun short for Brianna and Daphne, so he and Sam stayed in the dress shop’s viewing area for the next few minutes, waiting for the ladies to tire of their exploration of the upstairs rooms. From all parts of the building, he could hear exclamations of delight when they came across something that pleased them. It made David feel good. There had been few causes for celebration in Brianna’s life.
When they moved downstairs to admire the store’s stock, he yawned. He liked seeing females all decked out in pretty dresses with ribbons in their hair, but these bolts of cloth and gewgaws almost made his eyes roll back in his head. His time would be better spent working at his office.
Just as he was about to excuse himself, Brianna pulled out a bolt of yardage. “Oh, my, Daphne, just look at this fabulous taffeta. Isn’t it sublime?”
David sauntered across the carpet to peer over her shoulder at a shimmery blue material. “Hmm, taffeta,” he observed. “Maybe we should rename this town Taffeta Falls.”
Brianna sent him a startled look. He searched her green eyes and winked at her. She clearly remembered plucking that particular lie out of her bonnet because a flush stole up her neck and flagged her cheeks. “Will you never let me live that down?”
David chuckled, and though she tried to suppress it, Brianna smiled slightly. “Are you about ready to head back to the ranch?” she asked. “You look bored to tears.”
“It’s up to you. I have things to do over at my office if you’d like to stay longer.”
She patted the bolt of material. “Unless your work is pressing, we’re ready to leave. Until we have our things here, we can’t settle in.”
“Would you like to do that tonight?”
“Tomorrow morning will suffice.”
David drew his watch from his pocket to check the time. “Can I interest you in an early supper over at Roxie’s? That’ll save us from having to cook when we get home.”
Daphne clapped her hands. Sam, who loved going to Roxie’s, barked joyously. Brianna smiled demurely. “It appears we have a unanimous vote of approval, sir. An early supper sounds lovely to me as well.”
David escorted his entourage across the street to the restaurant. So early in the afternoon, there was only a handful of customers: two ladies at a window table having tea and pie, and two men at the counter sipping coffee. Red-checked tablecloths and matching napkins gave the place a bright, homey atmosphere. Sam was a regular customer there, and David guided his wife and daughter to a corner table where the dog could lie down in comfort without being underfoot. Roxie waved from behind the counter, her countenance rosy from the heat of the kitchen, her merry green eyes settling with unabashed curiosity on Brianna.
r /> “Good afternoon!” she called as she circled the counter. “What can I get for you folks?” She smiled brightly at Daphne. “Would this young lady like a sarsaparilla and maybe a piece of my famous apple pie?”
David ruffled Daphne’s hair. “She’ll start with a sarsaparilla, but no pie until after supper.” After introducing Brianna and the child, David added, “We’re eating a little early today. What’s the special?”
“Beef and sausage meatloaf.” Roxie grinned. “It’s the finest textured meatloaf in existence, served with clear dripping gravy, mashed potatoes, peas or corn, and my specialty sourdough bread with whipped butter on the side.”
Just then the entrance bell clanged. David caught a flash of pink from the corner of his eye, and his stomach sank. Hazel. Had she followed them? Probably. He braced himself for a nasty confrontation.
Roxie, apparently sensing how the wind might blow, turned on the charm. “Miss Wright, what an unexpected pleasure!” She hurried over to take the schoolteacher’s arm. “I have a special table in mind for you. Please step this way.”
Hazel allowed herself to be led across the room, but, cricking her neck to look back over her shoulder, she sent David glares powerful enough to pulverize granite. The look she gave Brianna burned with undisguised hatred and resentment.
Brianna raised her eyebrows. In a low voice, she asked, “Who is that lady?”
“A former friend.” It was all David could think to say.