A Lady in Defiance (4 page)

Her face paled. “I can’t agree to that.”

“You’re fifteen hundred miles from the Carolinas and still a
thousand miles from California. I’d say your options are limited.” While the
statement was true, he didn’t wish to frame things in such a grim light. “I’ve
got fifteen,” he said tapping his cards. “You have eighteen. The odds are in
your favor.”

Naomi eyed him warily. “Why not just sell it to us? Why play
a game of cards−” But as the question left her mouth, he saw her
expression change. She looked down and touched the two cards. “Eighteen?”

Fascinated by the way this day was turning out, he set the
deck of cards between them. “I was just wondering if God speaks my language,”
he answered in truth.

“So you want to hear from him despite your defiance?”

Their eyes locked in an unspoken battle of wills over the
assertion. McIntyre suspected this might be the first of many skirmishes with
the little princess from the South. The thought amused him and he chuckled good
naturedly at her assumption. “That’s not what I meant exactly but you can put
it that way if you like. I make my living with cards.
They
speak to me.”

“All right,” she nodded. “I think you ducked the question,
but all right. So all I have to do is get twenty-one?”

“You can stand on eighteen. I would. However, the house is
going for another card.”

“No, I want another card.”

He liked her spirit. “You’re feeling lucky today, are you?”

She speared him with a somber gaze. “There’s no such thing as
luck, Mr. McIntyre. Like it or not, there’s only the hand of God.”

Her words hung in the air, throwing him off track for a
moment. He saw great emotion behind her eyes, but couldn’t tell of what ilk.
“Perhaps,” he muttered. He recovered quickly, though, shifting in his chair and
changing the subject. “Indeed, Mr. Whicker’s mercantile was originally designed
as a hotel. I built it knowing that the Brunot Treaty would be ratified and
this corner of Colorado would explode with settlers.” He whistled in amazement.
“I didn’t count on my geologist finding a sixty-foot thick vein of quartz in my
own mine. Silver, gold and even a little copper.” He was still unable to
comprehend his growing fortune. “Silver took precedence over the innkeeping
business so I sold the building.”

He looked at the deck of cards in the middle of the table and
knit his brows together. “I have to admit, the timing of your arrival is, well,
strangely opportune as I was pondering this venture again. It’s the very reason
I helped Mr. Whicker leave our little community.”

“Then why would you want
us
to get the hotel,” she
asked with a I-don’t-trust-you-as-far-as-I-can-throw-you look on her face.

“It has come to my attention that Defiance could be passed up
for some opportunities if the town doesn’t become more
civilized
.” He
raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I must give up a portion of my
kingdom to decency if I want the town to grow. Most likely you’ll do a far
better job of running a nice place than I would.”

Naomi stared intently at McIntyre and he could see the wheels
turning behind those stormy green eyes. She was questioning everything about
him and this situation. Though he knew, somehow, she would go through with his
challenge. “Maybe that’s what this is all about, Mr. McIntyre,” she suggested,
sounding both wistful and melancholy. “Maybe, now and then, we have to give up
a portion of our kingdoms−the things we hold dearest−to find what
it is God wants for us.” The thought intrigued him and he decided he was
looking forward to doing business with her Ladyship.

She shook her head and heaved a great sight. “This is absurd.
I should look at the building first, haggle with you over a price, discuss it
with my sisters...but I think that would defeat the purpose of why I’m here.”
Inexplicably, he sensed a confession in the statement.

“Well, this shouldn’t be an issue since you’re going to win,”
he joked, light-heartedly mocking her faith, “However, if you do lose, I want
your word you’ll run the hotel for at least two years.”

Naomi opened her mouth, to protest he assumed, but thought
better of whatever she started to say. Instead, she sagged a bit and offered
softly, “I wish I could tell you−” A million things? If they could sit
and talk like two polite people from genteel Southern society, what would she
tell him, McIntyre wondered. Naomi shook her head again as if clearing her
thoughts. “Let’s just play this hand.” He liked the grit he heard in her voice,
her determination to face things unflinchingly. Oh, yes, he was quite sure he
was going to enjoy having her in Defiance. Pun intended.

Without hesitating, he drew a card for himself and laid it
next to the other two. A red queen of hearts gazed coolly back at him. “Dealer
busts; if you go over twenty-one, we play another hand.” Enjoying the drama, he
slowly slid a card off the deck and pushed it to her, face down.

Naomi drummed her fingers for a moment then reached for the
card, hesitated, then flipped over a three of spades. “Twenty-one,” she
whispered sounding incredulous. A slow, sad smile spread across her face. She
looked up at McIntyre. He was surprised by the weary expression on her face. “I
guess we own a hotel?”

Chapter
3

For a man who had just lost a card game and a building worth
who-knew-how-many-thousands of dollars, Naomi saw not a hint of disappointment
in Mr. McIntyre’s eyes. Quite the opposite. He looked as jovial as if he had
won
three thousand dollars.

She, on the other hand, was trying desperately to remain calm
and collected. The fact that she had just played a hand of cards to determine
her and her sisters’ destiny was simply incredible. Using a strategy that had
only
appeared
to be gambling, God had delivered a soon-to-be hotel and
restaurant into her hands. She was clear headed enough to suspect that the
particular method of transfer, though, had been more for Mr. McIntyre’s benefit
than hers. As they stood and shook hands, she couldn’t help but wonder what plans
God had for him. Admittedly, she would enjoy watching the Almighty take this
pompous peacock down a peg or two…if she had time to bother with him.

“Mrs. Miller, I do hope you find Defiance to your liking.” He
covered her hand with his and looked deeply into her eyes. “And please know
that I truly want your hotel to be successful. I hope you won’t mind if I’m
intimately involved with the details.”

She jerked her hand away and scowled at him. “I’m quite sure
my sisters and I can manage without your assistance.”

“Not in my town.” The comment had come through smiling lips,
but the look in his dark eyes walked a tightrope between menacing and
bewitching. It gave Naomi a chill. “But I’ll try not to be too much of a
nuisance,” he promised. Why did she have the feeling she had just made a deal
with the devil? What wasn’t he telling her? “Whicker’s Mercantile is the third
building from the end of town, on this side. You’ll find it right where the
street bends. I originally was going to call it the Elbow Inn,” he shrugged
noncommittally, “but I’m sure you’ll choose a more refined name. Ten minutes?”

“We’ll be waiting.”

The end of their conversation was interrupted by a commotion
outside. Naomi heard Hannah squeal in fright and both she and Mr. McIntyre
bolted for the door. Together, they exploded through the bat wings to find
three, mud-encrusted miners playing keep-away with Hannah’s bonnet. She and
Rebecca sat, clinging to each other, in the wagon and shrilly demanding the
return of the hat.

“Gentleman!” Mr. McIntyre’s commanding voice stopped the
horse play cold. “That will be enough.”

A grotesquely fat man with jiggling jowls caught the last
pass of the bonnet and pressed it innocently to his grimy chest, as if it
belonged to him in the first place. Furious beyond description, Naomi stomped
towards the man and shoved him with all the ferociousness she could muster in
her small frame. “Get away from my sisters!”

The man’s eyes widened in shock at the violence of the attack
then a huge grin split his face, revealing rotten, yellowed teeth swimming in
tobacco juice. Naomi’s stomach threatened to rebel, but her anger overcame it
and she snatched the bonnet from his dirty, fat hands.

“Whew, ain’t she a spunky one,” the man joked, spitting on
the ground. “I’ll be your first customer, angel.”

Before she could respond, Mr. McIntyre stepped between them
and put a hand on the fat man’s chest. “Be about your business, Sam. These
girls are none of your affair.” Naomi didn’t miss the lowered tone in his voice
and the way he looked around the street. The commotion threatened to draw a
crowd and apparently Mr. McIntyre did not want that to happen. “You and your
boys come back tonight and I’ll give you one on the house,” he looked at the
other two men, just as grimy as the first. “Now, go on. I’m sure you’ve got
some place to be. Doesn’t your shift start soon?”

Grudgingly, the three ambled away muttering something about
she-devils while throwing dirty looks over their shoulders. The slowing sea of
on-lookers picked up speed again, convinced there was nothing else to watch.
Still, eyes stayed trained on Hannah and Rebecca in the wagon till necks
wouldn’t twist anymore.

Fighting for calm, Naomi forced her heart to slow, but the
anger did not want to surrender. “Are you all right, Hannah?”

Flushed with color and blue eyes as wide as half-dollars,
Hannah nodded weakly. Tucking a wayward gold strand of hair behind her ear, she
reached for her bonnet. “They didn’t hurt us−”

“But they scared us to death,” Rebecca interjected
breathlessly.

“I’m very sorry, ladies,” Mr. McIntyre apologized from behind
Naomi. “Beautiful women are as rare as elephants in Defiance, especially ones
who don’t work for me.”

Naomi spun on him. “Yes, I noticed you cleared that right
up.” She hoped her sarcasm was palpable, she was so irate with him. “You said
the hotel is ours. We don’t work for you. We shook hands on it.”

“We did,” he agreed, fighting a smile. “In this particular
instance, I thought it the better part of valor to get them on their way rather
than engage in an explanation of your virtue. For the moment, you were under my
protection.” Naomi had the urge to smack that arrogant grin off his suave,
handsome face, but balled her hands into fists instead. “I assure you, I will
clear up any misunderstandings forthwith,” he promised, sounding more amused
than contrite. “For now, why don’t you ladies proceed to the hotel where we can
conduct our business away from all these prying eyes? I’ll be there shortly.”

Her emotions in a dither, Naomi huffed her disapproval and
climbed up into the wagon. Mr. McIntyre retreated inside. For a moment, the
three girls sat in silence. Looking as if she wanted to hide under a rock,
Rebecca hunched lower in the seat and clutched the reins so tightly her
knuckles were white. Hannah brushed the mud off her bonnet and gingerly
replaced it on her head. Naomi drummed her fingers on her knees and stared
straight ahead. She swallowed, attempting to loosen the tension in her jaw and
somehow force herself to think through the fury.

The men populating the street stared brazenly, and several
even whistled and made obscene suggestions. She glanced over the swirling sea
of faces, looking for some hint of normalcy and civility. They were young and
middle-aged, mostly bearded, dirty, and flashing a dangerous glint of the
untamed in their eyes. So different from her beloved John.

Oh, God,
she cried out,
what are you thinking?

“We have to move, Rebecca,” she heard herself order,
surprised at the steadiness of her voice. She didn’t feel steady. Not one bit.
But she had to hold herself together, at least until she was alone.

Rebecca straightened and lifted the reins. “Which way?”

“It’s the third building from the end.” Naomi pointed ahead
of them. “It’s right there where the street bends.” Rebecca clucked her tongue
and the mules obeyed. As the wagon rolled forward, Naomi fumed aloud over the
citizens while trying to ignore their bold gazes. “They’ve the manners of
pirates here, and stare like they’ve never seen women before.”

“It’s not just the men,” Rebecca countered, tugging on the
reins to veer away from an on-coming wagon. “We saw three women watching us
from upstairs at the saloon.”

Hannah’s eyes widened with a scandalous admission as she
scratched at her waist: “I waved at one of them, but she jerked away from the
window like I’d fired a gun at her.”

Naomi looked over at her little sister–she had the beautiful,
delicate features of a China doll but was still so naïve considering all that
she’d been through. If Mr. McIntyre so much as
looked
at her or Rebecca
the wrong way…

Naomi clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to cool down
her frustration. What kind of a man was so devoid of a conscience that he could
employ women into prostitution as easily as one would hire out a man to chop
wood? To think that someone like him was a form of protection for them right
now was almost more than she could bear.