Deborah Camp (26 page)

Sally, sullen as always these days, came around to the other side of the counter and stacked soiled dishes in a tub underneath.

“What do you think of the Lucky Strike, Sally Ann?” Reno asked, enjoying getting under her skin.
“Are you afraid I’ll take away your lover man’s business?”

She fashioned a bored expression on her face. “I don’t worry about Taylor’s businesses. He is astute and successful, two things you will never be.”

Reno chuckled. “I do admire how you stand by your man. Too bad you weren’t as faithful to poor Win. Once his crops started failing and he bet what money he had left on the wrong racehorses, you began to lose interest.”

“That’s a lie,” she charged, but not too stridently.

“Is it?” He quirked a brow, and Sally turned away and hustled toward the kitchen, where Mrs. McDonald held out two plates of eggs and ham.

“I’ll take them,” Sally said. She snatched the plates and carried them to the waiting customers.

Mrs. McDonald shook her head at Sally and wiped her big-knuckled hands on her apron. Catching Reno’s eye, she smiled and came to stand by him.

“When does your saloon open?”

“Friday night, and your first drink is free. Interested?”

“No, thanks.” Her smile was gentle and wise. “In my experience you don’t get nothing for free.”

He nodded. “I’m hoping to prove to this town, especially to one Whistle Stop citizen in particular, that saloons don’t have to be evil places. I’ve been in some bad ones, but I’ve enjoyed myself in others where the music was gay and the women were sweet and weapons were checked at the door.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about those, but I never worked in one. I hope you can have a nice place. This town needs a place for men to gather where women don’t
have to worry about them being there.” Her gaze strayed to Adele. “Hope it’s worth disappointing your wife.”

“She’ll come around.”

The cook looked unconvinced. “And I hope you don’t get killed over a silly thing like trying to get Terrapin’s goat. Sure would be a waste.”

He grinned. “You think he’d shoot me just because I opened a saloon across the street from his?”

Mrs. McDonald’s expression was as sobering as a splash of ice-cold water. “I think he’d kill you for a lot less.”

Reno cleared his throat, suddenly uneasy. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You
know
I’m right. Watch yourself.” She returned to her domain behind the swinging door.

Reno dropped into his own dark thoughts as he finished the coffee and pie, hardly tasting either one. He knew he was stepping on the Devil’s tail by opening the Lucky Strike, but he was convinced it was the right thing to do. Terrapin had to be challenged, if not stopped. If no one in Whistle Stop stood up to him, the town would eventually be worth spit, and the trains wouldn’t even stop to let off their passengers.

As for Adele, she was always trying to teach him lessons, and this would be a chance for him to turn the tables on her. Once she saw that the saloon could be an asset to the town, then he’d tell her about his real station in life and explain that he hadn’t told her before because of her persistence in thinking the worst of him. She’d see things his way for once, and the rift between them would be healed. Simple as that.

But a voice inside his head cautioned him that things were never simple with her.

Easing himself from the stool, he meandered toward the door and tried to catch Adele’s eye. She looked everywhere but at him. Giving up, he left the restaurant and headed for his business enterprise.

Several people on the street called out greetings. Lately he’d begun to think of Whistle Stop as his home, but he knew that had more to do with his feelings for Adele than for this speck of civilization. He could hardly believe how much he loved Adele. It was downright scary.

Of course, the love had been glowing like embers for years. It hadn’t taken much to leap out of control. Just a little encouragement from her, and he’d been head over heels in love with her. Damn, if it didn’t baffle him, this spell she cast so easily. Did she have any inkling how deeply he cared? In a way he hoped she didn’t, because that would give her even more power, and she had enough. He’d even had some second thoughts about the saloon, all because she had so disapproved, and he wanted desperately to win her respect as well as her love.

But a man could bend just so far before he had to straighten his backbone or crack it. Dellie didn’t need another man to break. She needed a man she couldn’t handle, a man she couldn’t tame. He would be that man.

Nearing the saloon, he headed down the alley, fumbling in his trouser pocket for the key that would let him in the back door. His attentiveness sharpened when he realized he wasn’t alone. Someone was waiting
there for him. He slowed his pace, then relaxed when he recognized the slight figure.

“Little Nugget, what are you doing slinking around back here like a stray cat?”

“Waiting for you,” she purred, stepping into the sunlight, which added a splash of gold color to her pale blond hair. “I thought you’d be along hours ago.”

“What’s the hurry?” He slipped the key into the lock. “Want to come inside?”

“Yeah. I got business to discuss with you.” She preceded him into a dark room filled with crates and barrels.

“Business? With me?” Reno echoed, his interest piqued. He cupped her elbow and guided her through the back room to the front, where frosted windows let in light. “Do tell.”

She strode into the middle of the main room and turned in a slow circle, her light-brown eyes missing nothing. “Not bad.” Moving toward the stage, she went up the four steps and fingered the blue velvet curtain. “You going to have shows?”

“A few. Not anything too fancy.” He smiled, amused by her stroll across the stage and her attention to detail. She nodded after examining the suspended chandeliers, the player piano, and the shining copper spittoons.

She left the stage and ran a fingertip around the green-leather-topped gaming table, then sashayed to the long bar and surveyed the kegs and bottles. Stepping back, she admired the painting of a ravishing brunette woman clad only in carefully placed silver
coins and gold dust. Reno could see her smile reflected in the mirror behind the bar.

“Somebody you know?”

He shook his head. “It’s a painting I bought from a man in Denver. The title is
Striking It Lucky
.”

Her laugh was girlish, reminding Reno that she
was
a girl, although she lived the life of a woman.

“The Lucky Strike,” she said softly, turning toward him. “You know a lot about that, don’t you?”

His boot heels sounded loud on the floor as he approached her. “Not a lot.”

She made a comical face. “That’s not what I hear.”

“What do you hear?”

“That you’re rich.”

“Says who?”

“Buck.”

Reno lifted a brow. “He’s been checking on me?”

“I guess.” She lifted one smooth, white shoulder, revealed by the daring cut of her periwinkle-blue dress. “He told Taylor that you struck it rich in the goldfields and you’re the moneyman behind this place.”

Reno stared at her, offering nothing. Finally she strolled the length of the room, but avoided the windows. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d come here, he realized. She was running on fear, although she played the role of a nonchalant visitor. He drummed his fingers on the bar, snagging her attention again.

“Taylor says he remembers seeing you in Deadwood.”

“Your boss has quite a reputation for being a mean, foul-hearted cheat. In Deadwood women cross themselves
and men spit when they hear his name.”

Little Nugget smiled and stood beside him at the bar. She ran one small hand across the top, admiring the wood grain. “No nicks or cuts or scratches,” she noted. “I like new things. Always have. I remember the first new dress I got. It was white with pink satin ribbons.”

His thoughts swam to Dellie and the white lace dress she had worn the other night when they had made love for the first time. It had a pink ribbon, too, around the waist. Dellie had such a narrow waist. A perfect span for his hands to circle … He yanked his attention back to Little Nugget, feeling guilty for forgetting she was even in the room. He cleared his throat and picked up the thread of conversation.

“Did you wear the dress to church?”

Her glance was a rapier thrust. “You making fun of me?”

“No.” He lowered his brows. “I figured you’d wear something like that to church with your family or for a special occasion.”

She rolled her eyes. “My family didn’t mess with church, and the only special occasions I remember were moving days.” She frowned. “We had a peck of those. I was long gone from my pa when I got that dress. Taylor bought it for me.”

He looked at her from the corners of his eyes, wondering about her relationship with Terrapin and how it had started. “When was this?”

“Uh … last year, I guess. Yeah, last spring. I only wore it twice and a rowdy cowboy ripped the front of it. He couldn’t wait for me to take it off.” She puffed out a sigh of disgust. “Ruined my dress. I was
so mad I dumped the contents of the chamber pot over him once he was asleep.” Her grin was purely wicked. “Then I ran like hell. I’d thrown his clothes out in the hall, so I got away before he could grab me. He was a drifter, and I knew he wouldn’t hang around town long, but he looked for me for three days.”

“Where did you hide?”

“In Taylor’s room. Taylor thought it was as funny as hell. That’s when he made me his special girl.”

Reno tapped his fingertips on the bar again. “And what does the special girl get, besides Terrapin’s Johnson and the back of his hand, of course.”

The light went out of her eyes. “Fewer customers to mess with, for one thing. He just sends me the high rollers.”

“That’s good?”

“Sure. It’s better than having three or four men a night pawing at you.”

Reno winced, the facts of her young life slicing through him. “You’re afraid of him.”

“I can handle him.”

“Like hell.” He stared her down. “Let’s be straight with each other. You think I don’t notice how you sneak around to see me, how you avoid those windows because you’re afraid of being spotted here? You could do better for yourself. Dellie tells me you’re right smart. She says you’re way ahead of the others in learning your letters and numbers.”

Pride glimmered over her like sunlight. “I’ve been studying every day. Mrs. Adele told me that I ought to be able to add numbers and read whole sentences in a month or two.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I figure by then you’ll be looking for somebody to help you out around here.” She sent her gaze around the room. “Somebody who can read a little and take money. Until I get good at it, I could do what I already know how to do, smile and talk men into buying drinks and making bets.”

He blinked again. Christ, she was taking one hell of a chance! “You’re asking to work here?”

“I’m offering my services,” she amended. “I’m good, you know. Men pay top dollar for me.”

“Yes, but I’m not looking to open that kind of business. I won’t peddle flesh in the Lucky Strike.”

“That’s why I’m here talking with you. I want out of the whoring part of it. I want to be a businesswoman like your wife. I want to be a lady that gentlemen help across the street and tip their hats to when they see me coming.”

Reno grinned. Hell, she was still a schoolgirl at heart, dreaming of a prince of a man who would marry her and make her queen of his castle. “I do believe that Dellie has turned your head. That’s good. You’re too young for this life. A pretty girl like you should be rounding up her suitors and picking out one to marry.”

She patted her hair, checking to make sure every curl was in place. “I’d like to settle down someday. First I want to get some respect, so I can be known as something more than Taylor’s favorite whore. Then I might get a serious suitor.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I seem to recall a little gal telling me that she was in the catbird seat and wasn’t interested in working anywhere else.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?” He tensed, immediately assuming that Terrapin had roughed her up again.

“Before your wife talked to me, made me see that I could be something more, something better. She talks and talks and before you know it, you’ve changed your mind so many times you don’t know up from down.”

Reno laughed and nodded. “That’s my Dellie.”

“You’ve done well by Dead-eye—I mean, Doris McDonald.” She smiled quickly. “She don’t like being called by her saloon name anymore. Anyway, like I was saying, Doris says you don’t make promises you can’t keep. She says you’ve treated her fair. That’s all I’m looking for, a fair chance.” Her brown eyes were bright but serious when she fastened them on him. “So you hiring?”

“Are you sure you want to work for me?”

“I’m sure.”

“I suppose we can get around your boss man. He seems to have gotten over his mad about me hiring Mrs. McDonald.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and worry settled over her like a shroud. “I wouldn’t say that. He still gets steamed up when he sees Doris. He hasn’t forgiven or forgotten that. But he don’t blame you as much as he blames her. He says she stabbed him in the back and that he won’t let her get away with it. He swears she’ll pay. I’m scared for her.”

“Hey, don’t worry about her.” He grinned, trying to put her at ease. “I figure Terrapin’s got himself a runaway mouth. After all, if he was such a dangerous man, why did he have to hire Buck Wilhite?”

“To keep folks in line. Us girls are another matter.” She sighed heavily. “Anything to do with us he takes real personal. Like we’re his, and we got to ask permission to do anything or go anywhere.”

“You’re not backing out already, are you?”

“No. He’ll be mad, but he don’t own me. Of course, this might buy you even more trouble with him.”

Reno shrugged, although his good sense told him he was thumbing his nose at danger. He didn’t want her to retreat, not after she’d found the courage to fight. He’d take her in and watch over her. Terrapin would have to come through him to get to her or Mrs. McDonald.