HisBootsUnderHerBed (3 page)

The excitement of his kiss still lingered, but she dared not give in to a yearning for more. She shoved his hat into his hands and closed the door.

Garth intended to get back to the very enticing Miss Rory O’Grady as soon as he took care of his unfinished business with Bates and Skull. He had a pretty good idea where the shack of the lowdown scum was located.

After several blocks, he was certain he recognized the shack and peered into the window. It was the same cabin, all right, but it was empty. He tried the door and found it unlocked, so he went inside. There were no clothes or packs, so he assumed they’d left town. Just to be certain, he checked at the livery and found out the two had never boarded horses there. He tried the stage office with the same results: neither one had left on the morning stage. He even inquired about them with the local sheriff, and got only a suspicious look in return.

Could they still be in town? He decided to check out the saloons.

Later that evening, Rory felt her heartbeat quicken when Garth came into the Grotto. She hadn’t seen a sign of him all day, and she had believed he’d taken her advice and left town.

Mo poured him a drink. “Heard you had some trouble last night.”

“Yeah. How did you hear about it?”

“The sheriff,” Mo said. “He said you’re looking for Bates and Skull. Have any luck?”

“Not yet. How well do you know them?”

“Well enough to know you’ve got the wrong two in mind. Bates and Skull were here last night all evening. Had to kick them out when I closed up.”

“Is that right? Got anyone who can back up that story?”

Mo glared at him. “Why would anyone have to? My word’s always been good enough for the folks around here, Fraser.”

“Think I’ll check out your story with that blonde at the table over there. I remember seeing her here last night.”

“Won’t do you no good, Fraser. She left about the same time you did.”

“Rather hear that from her.”

“Keep this up, Fraser, and I’m gonna start taking it personal.”

“Take it any way you want, pal. I know Bates and Skull tried to shanghai me, and I take that
very
personal.”

“You’ve as much as called me a liar. That could be a big mistake.”

Garth downed the shot of whiskey and threw a coin on the bar. “It wouldn’t be my first one, Mo.”

He walked casually over to Rory and sat down. “You were right about Mo. He’s in on it. He just told me Bates and Skull were here all evening last night. I told him I was coming over here to ask you about them, so go along with me and start shaking your head as if you don’t know anything. Just hold to the story that you left early last night, and went straight to your room and bed. That way they won’t suspect you helped me.”

“That’s good of you, but if I thought they suspected me, I wouldn’t be sitting here now. I’ve got more sense than that.”

“I’ve looked everywhere today trying to find those two. They probably left town.”

“Did you think to try that ship anchored out there?” Rory asked. Aware that Mo was watching them intently, she went along with Garth’s suggestion and shook her head as she spoke. “What are you trying to do, Garth? Get yourself killed? Get out of town while you’re still able.”

“Good girl,” he said, and stood up. “I’ll leave you, so he’ll buy the act.”

Garth started to walk away just as the piano player announced his arrival with a loud treble on the keys.

“Hey, cowboy, sorry I couldn’t be of any help, but for twenty-five cents I’ll dance with you,” Rory called out, loud enough for Mo to hear.

Garth stopped and turned back to her. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

Rory stood up and slipped the coin he handed her into a velvet pouch pinned to her gown.

What a difference from the other men she’d danced with, she thought as he glided her across the floor. No furious arm jerking, no trampling on her toes. His movements were so smooth that she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the music. The provocative scent of male and musk aroused her senses, and the warmth of his body was exciting. This intense physical awareness of him was too dangerous to encourage—but too exciting to discourage.

Too soon, Gus ended the song, and she opened her eyes and returned to her real world of a smoky barroom with the odor of cheap cigars and a cacophony of raised voices, clinking glasses, and clattering boots on the wooden floor.

“It’s getting noisy down here, Rory. Why don’t we continue our drinking and dancing upstairs?”

“Sorry, Mr. Fraser, but I’ve told you I don’t go upstairs,” she replied when Mo came over to the table to refill their glasses.

“If you want more than dances and drinks, I suggest you move on. You’re discouraging my other customers.”

“That’s no way to treat a money-paying customer,” Mo grumbled.

“Matter of fact, I don’t feel much like dancing anymore. I’m tired; I think I’ll go home,” Rory said.

“It would be my pleasure to see you safely to your door, Miss Rory,” Garth said.

“I’m quite capable of seeing myself to my door, Mr. Fraser.”

“My mama would turn over in her grave if she thought a son of hers wouldn’t escort a lady to safety.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’re the one who needs an escort, Fraser.”

Garth broke into laughter. “Maybe you’re right. But I’ll see you home just the same.”

She shrugged. “As soon as I square up with Mo.”

She dumped the contents of the velvet pouch on the table and divided it. Mo scooped up his half.

“You running your own business on the side?” Mo asked.

“What does that mean?”

“All this talk about saving yourself for the right man. I’m thinkin’ you might be whorin’ at your place.”

“Sure, with Pop right in the next room,” she scoffed.

“Since when would Paddy turn away from the chance to make an easy buck?”

She wanted to scratch the leer off his ugly face. “Aren’t you a little confused, boss? You’re the pimp—not Pop.”

Garth followed her out the door.

O
nce again a misty fog shrouded the night. Drops of moisture coated her bare arms, and Rory was unable to thwart the shiver that riffled through her.

“Cold?” Garth slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her protectively against his side. She cuddled gratefully against the welcome warmth of his body, and suddenly felt warm—very warm.

“Delivered safe and sound,” he said when they reached her door. “I guess this is where we say good night, Rory.”

“The least I can do is invite you in to get rid of the chill—but don’t think it’s more than that.”

“That’s an offer too good to refuse,” Garth said, and stepped in behind her.

After lighting the lamp, Rory hurried over to the door of her father’s room for a quick inspection, then closed the door and rejoined him.

“Pop’s asleep,” she said.

“How’s he feeling?”

“He seems to be over the worst of it, and insists he’s getting out of bed tomorrow.” Smiling fondly, she shook her head. “Oh, he’s a terrible patient. He won’t take one word of advice and will not admit he’s getting too old for the shenanigans he once tried.”

“How old is he?”

“He admits to being sixty, which makes me believe it’s closer to seventy. In the past ten years he seems to have lost a year every time his birthday was mentioned.”

Once again she shook her head of blond curls that his fingers were itching to get into. The intimacy of the dim lamplight, her nearness, her faint scent of lavender began to arouse him.

“Well, I guess I better leave.”

“Where are you staying, Garth?”

“I thought I’d bed down at the livery where my horse is stabled.”

Rory arched a curved brow. “You’re the last person I’d expect to bed down in a livery.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You don’t act like the other saddle bums who pass through town.”

“Is that so? What’s so different about me?”

“Your bearing, manners, and education. You’re no cowboy, Garth Fraser. That accent of yours reflects thoroughbreds, not mustangs, and maybe a dairy cow or two, not a cattle herd.”

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. “Very intuitive, Miss O’Grady.”

“I don’t need intuition to know you don’t smell like a cowboy. They all smell like horses; I swear none of them have ever seen the inside of a bathtub.”

“As long as there’re streams and rivers, a man doesn’t need a bathtub. I found that out enough times during the war and the trek west.”

“Well, I
do
,” Rory declared. “Nothing feels as good to me as sinking into a tub of hot water.”

“Dare I hope that’s an invitation, Miss Rory O’Grady?”

“Definitely not.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” he teased. “I’ve been told I’m a great back scrubber, honey.”

“No doubt, but I’m in no need of a back scrubber.”

“Well, maybe next time.” He picked up a book lying on the table. “I’ve noticed you with a book when you’re not dancing. Do you enjoy reading?”

“Yes, I do. But due to little time and money, I have few opportunities to buy a book.”

“Well, when I hit my strike, you’ll be able to buy all the books you want.”

“Oh, of course! Your gold mine.” She chuckled in amusement. “How could I have forgotten?”

“You don’t believe it’s going to happen?”

“Do you have any idea how many men pass through here believing they’ll hit the big strike? For over twenty years, miners have dug and scraped every ounce of gold possible out of California. What makes you think there’d still be some left for you?”

“Because my uncle sent us a map.” Garth dug the map he had drawn from memory out of his pocket.

“If there was gold there, why didn’t he mine it?”

“He got sick and died before he could, but he sent us a map marked where he staked a claim. Trouble is, we didn’t get it until three years after he died.”

“And did he send you proof that he filed the claim?”

“No. According to the doctor, Uncle Henry was feverish before he died.”

“And maybe he was feverish when he sent you the map. This could all be a figment of his imagination. For heaven’s sake, Garth, your uncle wasn’t the only miner. Surely by now, another one would have discovered this bonanza, found it deserted, and mined it for himself.”

“I don’t think so. See this?” He pointed to an
X
on the map. “From what I’ve read about the big strikes in California, this area wasn’t among them. Uncle Henry wrote that it’s up in the mountains, way off the beaten path.”

“That could mean the strike wasn’t as big as your uncle thought, and whoever might have mined it didn’t strike it big.”

“You didn’t know my uncle. Uncle Henry had been mining most of his life and could practically smell gold.”

“If you’re that sure about it, why haven’t you claimed it sooner?”

“By the time I finished school and the military academy, the war broke out. My brother and I came west when the war ended. Then when I struck out to find the mine, he asked me to come back and give him a hand building his house.”

“And where is he? Does he have gold fever, too?”

“Not Clay. His dream was opening a winery. Besides, he got married, fell in love, and now has a son.”

“Isn’t that just like a man? Marries, and then falls in love. I’m curious, was it with the same woman he married?”

“Of course! It’s a long story that you’d probably enjoy hearing, but it’s late, so I’ll leave and let you get to bed.” He folded up the map and slipped it back into his shirt pocket.

“How long do you intend to remain in town?”

“Since I’m convinced my two friends are gone and since the ship sailed on the morning tide, I figure there’s no further threat. I thought I’d hang around for a day or two, maybe try my luck at poker.”

Rory shook her head. “And I thought maybe you were different. No wonder you’re sleeping in the livery.”

“Not necessarily. The livery doesn’t have bedbugs.”

“No, just the smell of horses and manure.”

“Yes, but horses don’t bite when I’m sleeping like those cursed, blood-chomping bugs do.”

She sighed deeply. “You’re hopeless, Fraser. There’s no sense in trying to reason with you. You can sleep here tonight. I can assure you there’re no blood-chomping bugs in my bed.”

His heartbeat quickened and arousal speared his loins with the heat and speed of a lightning bolt.

Slipping his arms around her, Garth drew her to his chest. “I hope there’s a lock on that adjoining door. Lord, how I want you, Rory.” He lowered his head to kiss her.

She shoved him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I thought…” Reality set in at the indignation on her face, and he dropped his arms. “Not again!”

“Didn’t I make it clear to you that I’m not a whore?”

“Yes, you did. That’s why I had no intention of paying you.”

“I’m sorry you misunderstood my offer. I didn’t mean we would sleep together. I’ll sleep in Pop’s room on the floor again, like I did last night.”

“I wouldn’t think of taking your bed. I’ll take your offer to stay for the night, but
I’ll
sleep in your father’s room.”

“It didn’t bother you last night. Why should it now?”

“Last night I fell asleep. You should have wakened me.”

“With Bates and Skull still lurking around, I was afraid to let you leave. You were still drunk.”

“I’m not drunk now, so give me a pillow and blanket.” He winked. “I just hope my brothers never hear about this.”

Paddy awoke and was surprised to hear a man’s voice coming from Rory’s room. His daughter was a fine, decent woman, and she had never brought a man home until now. He got out of bed and put his ear to the door to listen.

So this was the Fraser fellow she’d prevented from being shanghaied. When Rory had told him about the incident that morning, he could tell the stranger had made a big impression on his daughter.

Paddy was about to interrupt them when he heard Fraser mention a map of a gold mine. Any quick way to get rich appealed to him, and for a few years after Rory was born he’d tried gold mining; but the little bit of gold he’d discovered was not worth the hard labor it took to mine it. He was skillful enough at cards to at least keep a roof over their heads.

Kneeling, Paddy peeked through the keyhole and saw Fraser return a folded paper to his shirt pocket.

When their conversation turned to Fraser spending the night, he figured the time had come to make his presence known. No drifter was going to bed the daughter of Paddy O’Grady. Then he grinned when he heard Rory’s rejection.

That’s me daughter. You do your sainted mother proud, darlin’.

When he heard Fraser declare he’d sleep on the floor, Paddy curled his lip in displeasure. Nobody had asked him if he liked the arrangement. Shouldn’t he have the say of it? Hearing them saying good night, Paddy scurried back to bed and pretended to be asleep when Fraser came in.

Long after the man fell asleep on the makeshift bed on the floor, Paddy lay awake on guard. There was no way this stranger was going to sneak into the other room and compromise his daughter.

Rory had caught up on her missed sleep and Garth was gone when she awoke the following morning.

“Did he say he was leaving town?” she asked Paddy.

“He didn’t say.” Her father tipped up her chin and she saw pity in his eyes. “He may be a fine man, darlin’, but you know his intentions are improper.”

“I know, Pop; I just enjoyed being around him. He’s a refreshing change from the men I’m used to.”

“Ah, darlin’, one of these days a fine man like him will come along and see what a proper wife you’d make.” He picked up his derby.

“Where are you going?”

“To stretch me legs. It’s been two weeks since I’ve been up and about.”

“If you wait until I dress, we can have breakfast together.”

“I’m not hungry. I’ll see you later, me dear.”

“Well, take it slow, Pop, until you get your strength back,” she warned.

“That I will, darlin’.” He kissed her on the cheek and left, whistling.

A sudden growl in her stomach reminded Rory that she was hungry, so she dressed quickly and hurried to the diner.

As she lingered over a final cup of coffee, her thoughts were on Garth and Pop’s words to her. Would the right man ever come along? She felt the rise of resentment. Of course she could never be good enough for Garth Fraser; after all, she was nothing but a cheap saloon gal in
his
eyes.

Garth had returned to Rory’s rooming house, and when no one answered his knock, he’d spent the next quarter of an hour searching for her. He finally located her in the diner.

For a long moment he watched her through the window. She looked like a schoolgirl, with her face scrubbed clean and her long hair tied back with a blue ribbon. He felt the heated surge to his groin. Every time he saw her, his desire grew greater.

She appeared to be deep in thought as she gazed into space and raised a cup to her mouth to sip from it. The sight of it evoked a memory of Lissy and Becky sitting at the kitchen table, the morning he said good-bye to them several weeks ago. Despite that tough façade she presented, Rory was very much like them.

Sure, she was used to a different kind of life, but she wasn’t any less vulnerable and feminine. And she probably harbored the same kinds of dreams as his sister and his brother’s wife. And all three weathered whatever life threw at them with an amazing innocence—and a damn lot of grit.

Rory fascinated him. He liked her humor and the sound of her laughter. And every time he looked at her, his groin told him that wasn’t
all
he liked about her. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind sticking around for a couple more days—but right now, getting hung up on a gal didn’t fit into his plans. A good time was all he had in mind.

Her expression suddenly changed, and he couldn’t help grinning, because whatever she was thinking caused her to thrust that pert little chin of hers up in the air.

He opened the door and went inside. “Good morning, Miss O’Grady,” he said with a wide smile.

“Good morning and good-bye.” She resumed drinking her coffee.

“I’ve been peeking in store windows looking for the prettiest girl in town. I finally found her. May I join you?”