Last Promise (5 page)

“You didn't say why you decided to come to Wyoming.” Luke was curious as to why she traveled all that way by herself.

Before she responded, George walked into the kitchen. “We're done for the night. Why don't we have a late dinner?”

“That was my plan.” While Luke enjoyed George's company, he was disappointed that he wouldn't be dining alone with Mary Ann. “I'll cook four steaks. I bet Eb has worked up a hunger, he did the hard work putting up with the customers.”

Mary Ann was busy cutting out the biscuits and thinking over everything she'd discussed with Luke. It was fun listening to his stories, but she thought it prudent that her uncle would be dining with them. It was proving difficult to be indifferent to his masculine appeal.

“I've smelled those steaks all night, and judging by the reaction of the customers they were delicious. I can't wait to dig into one.”

Eb walked in with some dishes from the dining room. “I'm starving.”

Everyone laughed. “Four steaks coming up,” Luke said.

Chapter Five

George finished his steak and leaned back in his chair enjoying his glass of wine. “Luke, I don't know how to thank you. Not only for all of your hard work tonight, but also for that wonderful steak. It's the best I've ever eaten, but I dare not tell Mrs. Howe.” He had a feeling that Luke enjoyed his evening with Mary Ann even though they were working in the kitchen. He'd seen the way he looked at his niece. If he wasn't mistaken, Luke was smitten.

Luke gazed at Mary Ann when he answered. “It was my pleasure, George.” It didn't feel like work to Luke, he'd enjoyed every moment he spent with Mary Ann. It didn't matter what he was doing, he just liked being near her. What man alive would tire of looking at her? It was a bonus that she was much more than a pretty face. He stuffed his sixth biscuit in his mouth. “I would cook for you every night if Mary Ann made the biscuits.”

“They are delicious,” Eb agreed. “I like Mrs. Howe's, but these are even better than hers.”

“I think we'd best be careful about our success tonight when Mrs. Howe returns. She might not feel like she is needed.”

“Uncle, if not for Luke, dinner would have been a disaster.”

“The three of you saved the day,” George replied. “By the way, Mary Ann, did you tell Luke about the shop you are setting up?”

“No, I'm sure that wouldn't interest him.”

“It will certainly interest his sisters-in-law,” George replied.

“Now I'm curious,” Luke said, directing his gaze on her.

“Mary Ann is setting up a small shop to carry items for the ladies,” George told him.

Luke wasn't surprised to hear of her plans. He'd already figured out she was an intelligent woman by the many questions she'd asked tonight.

“Actually, I'll carry items from France. I will have powders, perfumes, and ladies' wear.” She wasn't about to mention undergarments in mixed company. It was one thing to talk to her uncle about her plans privately, but she wasn't comfortable discussing such things with Luke.

Luke grinned. “That might not be just for the ladies.” He wouldn't mind dabbing perfume on her in all the right places.

Before Mary Ann could ask what he meant by that statement, the door to the hotel opened and in walked Clyde Slater with two of his friends.

This can't be happening again,
Luke thought.

Seeing they were headed to a table, George stood and moved toward them. “I'm sorry, the restaurant is closed.”

“It ain't closed until we had our supper,” Clyde growled. The three men pulled the chairs out and plopped down. “We want steaks.”

“The kitchen is closed, everyone has gone home. You gentlemen need to come back tomorrow,” George said sternly.

“Then you cook us something.”

“Clyde, go on back to the saloon. The restaurant is closed,” Luke said in a no-nonsense tone from across the room.

Clyde looked up and tried to focus his bleary eyes on Luke. “Stay out of this, McBride.”

Luke pushed his chair back and walked across the room to stand beside George. “Clyde, it's late and I'm tired and these fine people are ready to go to bed. So why don't you boys go on back to the saloon.”

“We're hungry,” one of the men whined.

“Then go home and fix yourself something to eat,” Luke suggested.

Clyde stood and glared at Luke. “You're always butting into my business.”

Luke knew Clyde was drunk by the way he was slurring his words. “Do you really want to do this now? Or do you want to go on back to the saloon?” Luke wished he hadn't left his pistol in the kitchen, he didn't feel like having another fistfight. But he didn't want Clyde to leave the hotel thinking he could come back at any time and harass George, particularly with Mary Ann around.

One of Clyde's friends stood. “Come on, Clyde. Let's go on back to the saloon.”

Remembering the last outcome of the fight with Luke, Clyde decided to leave. “We'll settle this another time, McBride.”

Luke was relieved he wasn't going to have to break any furniture or windows. Not to mention, he didn't want another busted lip. He followed the three men to the door and locked it behind them, with George right behind him.

“Thanks again, Luke,” George said.

Luke spoke quietly to George before they walked back to the table. He didn't like the fact that he couldn't protect Mary Ann if necessary. “George, you should start carrying a gun.”

“I'm not sure I would be comfortable using one.”

“What if Mary Ann's safety is at stake?”

“I see your point.”

“If nothing else you might place some weapons strategically around the hotel so you could get to them in a hurry if necessary.”

“Good practical advice, Luke. I will see to it.”

“I'm going to go home,” Eb said.

“Come in later tomorrow, Eb, you've earned some time off,” George told him.

When Eb left, George locked the door behind him before walking back to the table. “I think I will retire for the night. You two take your time.”

Mary Ann started clearing the table. “I'll just wash these before I go up.”

Luke picked up the remaining dishes and followed her to the kitchen.

“It seems that man is always drunk.” Mary Ann recognized Clyde as the man whom Luke was fighting with the first day she saw him.

Luke chuckled. “He does his fair share of drinking.”

Mary Ann washed the dishes as Luke dried. “The saloon does a booming business. They start early and are open very late.” She'd heard noise from the saloon at all hours.

Luke had to agree with that. “Most saloons do a fair trade. That's the only place men can go and let off a little steam.”

She wasn't familiar with all of the phrases used by people in this country. “What do you mean
let off steam?
”

It surprised him she'd never heard the term. “It means to relax, have some whiskey and play poker and . . .” He almost said visit with the gals, but he didn't think that would be wise.

“I see. My uncle says saloons are similar to the clubs men frequent at home to play cards and have their spirits.”

“I imagine they are the same thing.” Luke had never been to England and he wondered if the clubs had women serving liquor.

“Do the women who work there play poker and drink whiskey too?” She'd never seen the inside of a saloon so she wasn't familiar with what went on.

“Sometimes. L. B., she's the owner and she's a fine poker player and she drinks whiskey. The gals serve the drinks and . . . provide the entertainment.”

“Oh, so the women are playing the piano I hear every night?”

“No, they have a man that plays the piano.”

“Do they sing?”

Luke could hardly believe she didn't know what went on in a saloon. She obviously hadn't seen L. B.'s gals hanging over the balcony yet. He guessed her uncle didn't tell her everything that went on across the street and he wasn't going to be the one to enlighten her. “Ah . . . no.”

“Do they have plays?”

Oh, they play all right
. “No, it's not that type entertainment.”

She looked up at him with those large quizzical silver eyes and handed him the last plate.

When she looked at him like that all he wanted to do was kiss her. He thought he'd best change the topic of conversation before his baser thoughts got the best of him. “We're finished here so why don't you show me your shop?”

She wasn't sure why he didn't want to answer her question, but she didn't think it was wise to ask. It surprised her that he was interested in her little shop. “Certainly.”

Before they left the kitchen Luke stoked the stove for the next morning and made sure the back door was locked. He grabbed his gun belt and buckled it around his waist, then grabbed his hat. As they walked through the dining room he turned off the oil lamps and Mary Ann extinguished the candles on the tables. Reaching the area under the staircase, Mary Ann pulled back a drape that Eb had hung for her until the door was installed. “The drapery is temporary. We will have a lovely door with a glass oval here. I'm afraid there's not much to see since I don't have all of my inventory.”

Luke struck a match to the oil lamp sitting on the display case and the soft light illuminated the room. The room was more spacious than he'd expected and she had arranged the space nicely. His gaze went to the dress forms in the corner. “Are you going to sell ladies dresses?”

“No, those are for . . . ah . . . ladies' undergarments.” Her skin started to get hot again and she blushed.

Luke smiled when he saw her turning pink. He couldn't resist asking, “You mean like corsets and chemises?”

She nodded.

His eyes automatically went to the bodice of her dress and he wondered if she was wearing a corset. “These things are coming from France?”

“Hmm, yes.”

He remembered the small package Sally had showed him that day. It was from France and it was very small. “When will the items be here?”

She wondered what he was thinking. “In a couple of weeks.”

He'd like to see her model a corset for him. He needed to get control of his thoughts. “I guess it's not like the things sold at the mercantile. I have a feeling Mr. Foster will not be too happy with his new competition.”

“I purchased the dress forms from his wife. She inquired if I was selling ready-made dresses. To tell you the truth I hadn't thought of selling dresses, but her question made me consider ordering dresses from Paris. Of course, they would be for special occasions.” She thought she might be boring him to tears with talk of fashion, but he made her nervous.

“You may want to talk to my sister-in-law Victoria. She makes those bags you ladies carry. She has orders from shops in London and Paris.”

“Reticules?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that's what they're called.”

“Oh, I would love to see them. They would look lovely in the display case.”

Luke turned his attention to the shelves lining the wall behind the display case. “This is where you will put the perfumes and powders?”

“Yes, I thought it would be wise to have the expensive crystal bottles on the higher shelves.”

“I expect you might have some male customers.” He didn't know how he'd like men coming in to look at ladies' undergarments and Mary Ann helping them. He knew men and he knew what they would be thinking. Exactly what he was thinking.

She hadn't thought men would be interested in the items she carried. “There will be nothing for men here.”

Luke almost laughed. He tapped the mahogany display case that was glistening under the light. “What will be in here?”

“More items for ladies.”

“Like?” What else did women wear besides corsets and camisoles? He mentally stripped off her clothing. Oh, maybe she was talking about bloomers and . . . “Ah . . . stockings and garters.” And she thought there wasn't going to be anything in here for men.

He certainly knew his way around a woman's wardrobe. “I've also ordered some jewelry.”

Luke liked the way she thought, she'd make a fine shop owner. She was full of good ideas and he expected she'd have a booming business before long. “You could place advertisements in the newspaper.”

She was thrilled that he truly seemed interested. “That is a wonderful idea!”

His eyes met hers and he thought about moving closer and taking her in his arms. But he didn't want to hurry things along. Things had gone well tonight and he didn't want to jeopardize the progress he'd made. “I think you'll have a nice business here. There's a shop at a hotel in Denver that is similar.”

“You've been there?”

“Yes, but I like yours better.”

“Do they carry items for men?”

“No, but men like to give presents.” He didn't dare tell her he'd bought many delicate items for women in the past.

“I see.” She had a feeling that he'd purchased gifts in that shop in Denver. Probably for one of the women he'd been making promises to the first day she saw him. Or for all of them.

“I best get out of here, I'm sure you're tired.” He didn't really want to leave, but it had been a good night and he didn't want to make a wrong move.

She turned around and led him to the door. She was sorry to see him go, and that thought surprised her.

Luke tapped the lock on the door. “Lock this behind me.”

“I will. Thank you so much for your help tonight.”

“You're welcome. Maybe you'll make biscuits for me again.”

“I will.”

He leaned over and she thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn't. He pulled the comb from her hair, allowing all of it to tumble past her shoulders. “It looks beautiful down.”

When he held the comb to her she took it with trembling fingers. He set her nerves on end. “I'm afraid my hair wouldn't stay up tonight in the heat.”

Luke wondered if she was talking about the heat radiating from him as he stood next to her smelling her sweet scent or from the fire. He really wanted to kiss her, but he wasn't sure how receptive she would be. Funny, he'd never questioned whether a woman wanted to be kissed. He'd always been able to read their signals. He thought he'd made some headway with her so he decided to take it nice and slow. At least she didn't tell him he wasn't a gentleman tonight.

He opened the door and settled his Stetson on his head. “Sweet dreams.”