Lucky Penny (34 page)

As they walked toward the livery, Brianna saw several nicely dressed women pause on the boardwalk to stare at her with stark disapproval. She glanced down at herself and realized she must look a fright, with David’s bright red shirt calling fast attention to her appearance. Heat crept up her neck. She met those women’s gazes with haughty disdain and judged their gowns to be only passable. Ready-made clothing from Montgomery Ward, no doubt, or the products of their own pathetic attempts at a sewing machine. She swept by them with her chin held high, too proud to let them see her embarrassment.

David spent more than an hour at the livery getting all the horses settled in. After traveling with him, Brianna wasn’t surprised that he insisted on seeing to every detail
himself. He was a man who not only valued animals but also appreciated their hard work. Before he saw to his own comforts, he would see to theirs. Brianna almost sat on a hay bale to wait him out, but that struck her as being lazy, so instead she went with Daphne to care for Lucy and Acorn. At Ricker’s, Brianna had learned how to man the business end of a pitchfork. She tossed fresh straw into the stalls while Daphne filled the water buckets and struggled to dump two leaves of fresh hay into the troughs. They were weighty burdens for a little girl to manage.

Watching her daughter, Brianna felt her heart swell with pride. She was fast becoming quite the horsewoman. Lucy adored her, and Acorn nuzzled the child appreciatively, as if he sensed that their relationship would be one of long standing.

When David was satisfied that the animals would fare well for the night, he led Brianna and Daphne from the stable. Brianna expected him to head directly for one of the hotels. She yearned for a bath, and then she wanted to stretch out on a real bed. But David grasped her elbow and veered left toward the town’s dress shop.

“Daphne and I need something fresh to wear while our clothes are being laundered,” he said, his voice laced with underlying firmness. “For now, something ready-made will do us, so while you’re in this shop, selecting a couple of nice dresses in your size, I’ll take her shopping.”

Brianna dug in her heels before he could open the door. “I can’t afford two dresses. I can’t even afford one. All I have is what remains of the money you sent Daphne.”

“You have that roll of bills I gave you last night. Spend some of it.” His blue gaze bore into hers. “Don’t hike your chin up at me like that. New clothing, from the skin out, plus a pair of decent shoes and a nice cloak. No wife of mine is going to be snubbed by the wives of a bunch of clod busters. When you leave this shop, I want you looking like a lady of substance.”

Brianna parted her lips to protest, but David had already turned away. Daphne, clutched in his strong arms, flashed Brianna a grin over his right shoulder. “Buy some pretty dresses, Mama! If you don’t, Papa will be angry.” Brianna,
still wanting to protest, started to call out, but Daphne forestalled her with, “You said you’d ask how high. Remember? He just told you to jump!”

David made fast work of finding clothing for Daphne that would do her for the night while her scanty wardrobe was laundered. He also bought himself a change of clothes. Before leaving the dry-goods store, he stopped to buy his daughter a lollipop, which she promptly poked in her mouth. Holding her hand, he carried the bundle of purchases under his left arm as they angled across the street to the dress shop.

David plopped the package on a bench just outside the door and lifted his daughter to sit beside it. “You stay here and enjoy your candy. Okay? I want to help your mama choose some dresses, and most dress-shop owners frown upon sticky little girls.”

Daphne tucked the orb of candy into her cheek. “I’ll be fine. I’ll watch passersby.”

“Just don’t leave the bench.” David glanced up and down the street. It seemed like a quiet town, but he didn’t want his daughter off by herself. “You understand?”

“I won’t move,” she promised.

David pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then entered the dress shop to find Brianna shoving a dress back at the clerk, a slight, white-haired lady with spectacles perched on the end of her bony nose. Right off, David liked her a lot more than he ever had Abigail Martin. She had a sweet smile and kindly gray eyes.

“That’s far too much money,” he heard Brianna say, “and the color is too bold for me. I prefer subdued tones.”

David took in the dress. It was emerald green, almost the exact same color as Brianna’s eyes. “If it fits, she’ll take it.”

Startled, Brianna whirled to face him, her expression taut with admonishment. “I beg your pardon, sir? I’m quite capable of selecting a dress for myself.”

David almost chuckled. She only addressed him as “sir” when her temper flared. His Shamrock had an explosive disposition under all that control. She constantly struggled to keep it under wraps, but it bubbled to the surface despite
her efforts. That bothered him. Why did she try so damned hard to smother her true nature? She was a spitfire with a mean right hook, yet she pretended to be a meek lamb.

“
A
dress?” he popped back. “I told you to get four.”

Her cheeks went crimson. “You most certainly did
not
! You said
two
, and I judge even that to be grossly extravagant.”

David didn’t like being overbearing with a lady, but with her pride as an obstacle, he could see no way around it. He winked at the dressmaker. “You’ve got a good eye. That color would be perfect on her. Do you think it will fit?”

The old lady knew a source of profit when she saw one. A twinkle lighted her gray eyes. “Close enough. I can do some quick alterations to make it perfect for her.”

David waved his hand. “Try it on, wife.”

Brianna sent him a look that put him in mind of Bess in No Name—green fire meant to obliterate anything it touched. “This dress is outrageously overpriced!”

“I don’t care how much it costs,” David informed her.

“You, sir, are impossible.”

David didn’t care if he was being impossible. He never again wanted to see her cheeks go hot with shame when she met better-dressed women on the street. She was his wife, damn it, and she would take second seat to no one.

During the trying-on stage, David stepped outside frequently to check on Daphne. When her lollipop disappeared, he took her up the street for a sarsaparilla and then parked her on the bench again while he went inside the shop to check on Brianna’s progress. She stood before a mirror in the emerald green gown. Even with her hair in a tangle about her shoulders, she was so beautiful that she nearly took his breath away. The gown hugged her upper torso, showcasing her generous bust and slender waist, the skirt puffing out from there to shimmer over her hips, the slight bustle accentuating her delightful posterior. So far as David could see, the gown fit her perfectly.

“Sold,” he said.

“I am
not
taking this dress. It’s shameless.” She tugged at the décolletage, trying to cover the plump swell of her creamy breasts, which were delightfully exposed. So delightfully
that David’s manhood sprang to attention. “Forget it.” She turned to the proprietress. “What else have you in stock that might fit?”

“Hold it.” David strode over, doing his damnedest not to gape at the plump, ivory orbs of her generous bosom. “A bit of lace might work,” he said to the shop owner. “My ma does that with gowns that are a bit too revealing.”

“I have just the thing!” The little woman hurried behind a display case and set out several bolts of lace. David was no expert, but he had a good eye. Well, he knew what he liked to see on a woman, anyway. He bypassed a russet and then a bright gold, thinking they’d both draw the gaze directly to Brianna’s breasts. Well, hello, he didn’t want the attention of every man to shoot straight to her bosom. He pointed to a sturdy jet black with a scalloped edge that was dotted with little holes. “I like that one.”

“Excellent choice. Eyelet is substantial enough to cover but delightfully intriguing to the male eye.”

From the front, David decided the eyelet would cover Shamrock’s attributes, but he didn’t like that it was ruffled. He consoled himself with the thought that any man who got close enough to look down the flutes would be dead before he hit the ground.
Jesus Herbert Christ.
He was feeling jealous, and if that wasn’t crazy, he didn’t know what was. He was the only man present.

Brianna huffed. “My last desire is to wear anything intriguing to the male eye.”

David seconded that sentiment but slapped his hand down on the eyelet anyway. “You’d be intriguing to the male eye in a flour sack. Just shut up and let her and me figure it out.”

“She and I,” she corrected.

David was in no mood for an English lesson. “Gotcha! You’re wrong. It’d make no sense at all if I said, ‘Let
I
figure it out.’”

Brianna gave him a heated look that could have wilted a healthy cornstalk.

He nodded to the woman. “Whip something up.” He gestured at Brianna’s astounding cleavage. “I want my wife to look fabulous, mind you, but I’d just as soon other men don’t drool overmuch.”

“Ah, a possessive husband. My Orville was a mite possessive back in the day. I, too, had to wear inserts with my more revealing gowns.” The woman drew out a pair of scissors and cut a length of the black eyelet. “This will do perfectly with a bit of tacking.”

David went to the dress rack while the two females fussed over the proper placement of the insert. He shoved aside a bright blue. Nope, not for his fiery-haired Shamrock. She needed colors that complemented her striking complexion. He came across a muted black silk. He liked that it wasn’t shiny to distract from her skin, glorious hair, and fabulous eyes. Brianna didn’t need adornment to make her sparkle. Oh, yeah, he liked this one. As he drew it off the rack, he pictured her in it. He stepped sideways to toss it on the counter.

“Let me see her in that one.”

Brianna looked at the price tag and gasped. David ignored her. Though he hadn’t yet told her, they’d be taking the train home to No Name, and he’d be pickled like baby cucumbers if he allowed his wife to be scorned by other female passengers. Hell, maybe he’d even buy her a bonnet all decked out with silly ornaments. Fake birds were the current rage, with feathers going every which way. He wanted her to look wonderful when he presented her to his family. His ma was a fine lady and put a lot of stock in dressing well. Dory would box his ears if his wife wore rags that were about to pop at the seams.

David came across a shimmery brown silk. When he held the dress up to the light, he caught flashes of green, bronze, and red as he twisted the hanger.
Perfect.
Looked at straight on, the dress was an unassuming brown, but on Brianna, it would be pure decadence, highlighting the red flashes in her hair and the deep green of her eyes, and offsetting her ivory skin with the touches of bronze. He tossed that one on the case as well.

And then he came across a deep gold day dress with capped sleeves, a low décolletage studded with emerald beads, and a waist sashed with shimmery jade silk. She’d look like a sultry angel in it. With a flick of his wrist, it joined the pile.

David figured he had probably offended Brianna’s delicate sensibilities enough, so he went outside to collect his daughter. After a spit bath, he judged her to be passable for a dress shop. Once inside, Daphne instantly became his ally, oohing over this and applauding that. David saw Brianna’s shoulders slump and smothered a grin. Victory had a nice taste, but nothing, he thought sourly, could ever compare to the honey of Brianna’s mouth, brief though his savoring of it had been. He wanted to sneak another quick kiss. Then she stepped out in the brown silk, her breasts plumping up like mounds of whipped cream over the scoop neckline. He forgot all about her lips, and his mouth went dry. On her, the dress went from ordinary to astounding, a shimmery rainbow of subdued color and lightning. His manhood went instantly hard.

He sat on one of the two chairs against the wall, settled a boot on his knee, and flipped his duster over his crotch, not wanting his daughter to see him in such dire straits. Brianna was enough to drive any man over the edge.

An hour and a half later, Brianna left the shop with the emerald green gown, which had quickly been tucked, tightened and let out where needed, and altered with a bit of black eyelet across the low neckline. In the sacks David carried were underclothes, three changes in all, the memory of which made his mouth water. Picturing Brianna in lacy underthings was nearly his undoing. Trudging beside him, she still wore her rags, but over them a new black cloak of fine wool rode her slender shoulders, its folds encasing her body to protect her from the wind, which had grown cool with the late afternoon. They’d pick up the other dresses tomorrow.

David assessed the two hotels and led his little tribe toward the newer looking of the two. At the desk, he signed in, ordered three hot baths, two snack plates for one room, one for his, beverages for his girls, and a fifth of Irish whiskey for himself, plus two cigars. While he soaked up to his chin in hot water, he meant to indulge in booze and smokes. He ignored the censorious spark in Brianna’s eyes. She could go whistle Dixie and learn from experience that he wouldn’t get roaring drunk, that he’d wash off the stench of
the cigars and present himself at dinner sober and smelling nice. In the meanwhile, he would enjoy a manly bath. She and Daphne could do the female version. To that end, he ordered scented bath salts, leaving Brianna to choose what she wanted. She looked so startled at first by the suggestion, and then so troubled by the choices offered her, that he suspected she’d never used bath salts or oils.

She finally settled on a rose scent. David loved roses, and imagining her in that emerald green gown, smelling like a rose garden, made him go hard again.
Jesus
, he was in trouble. She wasn’t ready for any advances from him. Maybe she’d never be. He needed to get his head screwed on straight or he’d come in his trousers during supper.

After her bath, which had been so luxurious she’d never wanted it to end, Brianna got dressed. Daphne, already scrubbed clean and wearing her new store-bought clothing, sat on the bed, oohing over Brianna’s lacy underclothes and then clapping her hands when Brianna donned the emerald gown.