Much Ado About Madams (10 page)

“
Midas, pour the sheriff another whiskey and bring it over.” She sat and offered Tucker a chair. “State your business, then.”

Midas placed their drinks on the table—whiskey for the sheriff and water for her. She drank spirits only on special occasions, and this didn’t promise to be one of them.

“
I came to see Reese McAdams and your fellow over there told me he’s not here. Do you know where I can find him?”

“
Nope.”

“
When will he be back?”

“
Don’t know.”

“
Don’t know, or won’t tell?”

“
You pick. If you got business with Reese, you talk to him. Leave me out of it.”

Tucker yanked his hat off and threw it on the table. “What’s with you ladies, anyway? What power does he have over you?”

Fannie sighed. Tucker didn’t understand a damned thing. Reese was good as gold, and she wasn’t about to say anything could hurt him. Besides, she didn’t trust lawmen any more than Trinket did. “We’re just making a living, sheriff. Come back in three hours and I’ll be happy to fix you up with one of the girls.”

The sheriff stood and put on his hat. “There’s a gambler hanging around Owyhee County who goes by the name ‘Hannibal Hank.’ I understand he can be awful hard on working girls, so be careful.”

Fannie rose from her chair and followed him to the door. “He’s sleeping off a drunk in the barn. You can have him.”

“
Hell, I don’t want him. Just wanted to warn you, is all. I hear he’s mean as a starving wolf.” He paused in the doorway. “And tell Mr. McAdams that there’s been some cattle rustling in the area.”

“
Tell him yerself.” She shut the door and leaned against it.

“
Does he think our Reese is a rustler?” asked Trinket, still sitting at the bar.

“
Who knows?” The aroma of roast venison and fresh bread reminded her that it was past time for dinner. “Come on. Let’s join the girls for a bite to eat and forget about the sheriff.”

Trinket hesitated. “Fannie?”

“
What.”

“
Do you think I’m pretty?”

Chapter 5

Reese could hardly wait to end his misery and get to Dickshooter. The rocking pace of the horse kept the schoolmarm’s behind wiggling on his lap. Damn it all, anyway. He'd been hard as a rock all night and all morning, too, except for the short time he had spent recovering from the crazed woman’s assault on his parts. Riding double was hard on Buster, too, although not quite in the same way.

Lucinda sitting in front of him stiff as a board only added to his libido problem. If she’d just lean against his chest, her tempting bottom wouldn’t wiggle against his uncooperative parts—or too cooperative, he wasn’t sure which.

She turned to him, her jaw set. “I’m certainly going to give that cook a piece of my mind!”

“
Why don’t you take a soak in a nice hot bath before you go tearing into poor Sadie.” But then he envisioned Miss Sharpe soaking in the tub, her breasts peeking out of the water and damp tendrils of honey hair caressing her neck.
Sonuvabitch!

“
That is a highly inappropriate suggestion!”

She didn’t know just how inappropriate—or maybe she did. The evidence of his misery wasn’t exactly hidden.

“
I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in my life!” She shuddered, which didn’t help his situation a bit. “There I was, freezing and worried sick that Sadie was hurt, when all the time, she was safe and sound, heading back to Dickshooter.”

She reached down to smooth her pants—his pants, only on her legs. Probably a nervous habit of tidying her skirt. Instead, she brushed his leg. He stifled a groan. She jerked her hand away faster than if she’d grabbed a hot poker.

He pulled her back to his chest to lessen the pressure of her bottom on his lower parts. With a “hmmph!” she straightened right back up. He didn’t try again. Everything he’d done to lessen the effects of her nearness had backfired. He’d just have to endure.

This one-hour ride seemed to take longer than his trip to Dodge City the month before. He’d rather suffer bug bites on his face and rain down his neck than the torture this haughty woman inflicted upon him.

A little more than half an hour of misery passed before a word was spoken between them, which was fine with him.

“
Are you always this quiet?” she demanded.

This woman, naïve at best and ignorant at worst, had no idea what she asked of him. “Mostly.”

“
Goodness, two syllables! I’m honored.”

“
We’re more than halfway there.” He knew it was a lame attempt to satisfy her obvious need for conversation, but it was the best he could come up with.

“
Good. I have work to do.”

“
Work?”

She bowed her head. Soft wisps of her hair caressed his neck, sending another flood of heat to his neglected part. Damn, why’d she have to have hair that looked so much like honey he wanted to taste it? And whose bright idea was it to give her soft curls that made a man want to bury himself in them? He wondered what her other curls looked like.

He groaned, whisking the offending thought from his mind.

“
What?” she asked.

Had he said anything? He must have groaned aloud. “What work do you have to do?” he answered, giving himself a mental pat on the back for his quick thinking.

* * * * *

Lucinda didn’t know if she wished he would, or was glad he didn’t—hold her close, that is. She fidgeted this way and that, trying to find a position where her back wouldn't ache as much, but not lean against him, either. But he felt so
near
.

Reese had behaved like a perfect gentleman, even though his arousal made itself obvious. Avoiding notice of it was nearly impossible, and even though she’d never been, well,
intimate
with a man, she certainly knew all there was to know about relations between a man and a woman.

Mostly. The one thing she couldn’t figure out was how that thing could possibly fit into—well, how it could possibly fit. She didn’t plan to find out, either, since a suffragist simply didn’t have time for such nonsense as marriage. Or children.

But maybe, just maybe, if she kept talking, he’d forget all about his own libido problems. After all, she ignored the tingling in her breasts and the hot ache down where she ought not be aching.

He cleared his throat. “Your work?” he asked again.

“
Oh, work! Oh, uh, laundry and such.” He wanted to know what she had to do when they returned to the Comfort Palace. She couldn’t tell him she had a week’s worth of lesson plans to review. The ladies were progressing remarkably well.

There. Thinking about her work took her mind off his warm, broad chest. Besides, if she kissed any man’s chest, it sure wouldn’t be a brothel owner’s. But he seemed to be an honorable man in some ways. After all, he could have left her alone out in the wilderness. Her skin prickled with goosebumps all over again. She’d thought about Reese a lot, maybe too much for her own good. Still, there ought to be a way to save him from a life of debauchery. Brothel owners were indeed a debauched lot.

“
Have you ever thought about closing the brothel?”

“
Huh?”

She felt Reese stiffen.
Ah, ha!
Maybe he had a conscience after all. “Surely you can’t be at peace with your soul while you’re living off money from women selling their bodies.”

“
They’re happy.”

The ladies
weren’t
happy, Lucinda knew, otherwise they wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of bringing a teacher to Dickshooter. “Why do you say that?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, followed by silence.

So much for his conscience! “Well, I don’t think they are. How could they be?”

“
Dammit all, anyhow, woman. Then why don’t you educate them? And throw in a few skills while you’re at it.”

“
You don’t think I can, do you?”

“
Jesus, woman! Think about it. Why would they want to work for a dollar a week cleaning spittoons when they can make a dollar an hour at the Comfort Palace?”

Lucinda sniffed. “You don’t need to curse.” This man could teach a class in Advanced Impossible. “Everyone deserves to achieve his or her potential, and these ladies have no chance of doing so without an education.”

“
I suppose you want me to pay you to teach them.”

“
It’s an idea.”

“
A bad idea,” he muttered.

She twisted around toward him, almost falling off the horse. Reese caught her by the waist and pulled her upright. Determined not to think about his hand scorching her person, and bound to force him to concede to the women’s education, she retorted, “I knew you weren’t serious.”

“
How much?”

She had to charge him, even though the ladies already hired her for a hundred per month. He’d think something strange was going on if she didn’t quote him a fairly steep price, and the ladies were adamant about him not finding out about their little scheme. As for that matter, just what was their scheme? “Eighty dollars a month.”

“
Eighty dollars! I can buy half a herd for eighty dollars.”

A smidgen of guilt pricked her, but she had to hold firm. The ladies deserved to have their privacy protected. Maybe she’d mail them the excess money when she arrived back in St. Jo. She breathed a sigh of relief at her decision. Yes, she’d keep Reese’s money and give the ladies theirs back.

After a moment, Lucinda pressed the issue. “Do we have an agreement or not?”

* * * * *

Reese had thought about educating the ladies many times. Yes, it was a good idea, but who’d want to teach a bunch of whores? He hadn’t seen it as a viable option. Little Miss Priss, sitting on his lap and giving him a hellacious hard-on, certainly didn’t seem amenable to the task. Eighty dollars was too damned much money for a schoolteacher. He’d show her though. He’d force her to put up or shut up.

“
All right. Eighty dollars. But I want them educated and out of here by next spring. My ranch needs working, and I don’t need a bunch of wh . . . women slowing me down.” He’d bet anything she’d turn him down. A respectable woman like her didn’t associate with whores.

Besides, he didn’t want the ladies thinking that he wanted to get rid of them. They had nowhere else to go. He knew it and they knew it. “There’s only one condition: You can’t tell the women that I hired you.”

“
It’s a deal!” She grabbed his rein hand and shook it. Buster took the motion as “go,” and he did, nearly unseating Reese and his lovely baggage.

“
Damn it all, woman,” Reese yelled as he held onto Lucinda and brought Buster under control. “Don’t you know anything about horses?”

She turned her nose up. “No.”

Finally Dickshooter came into view, and he was damned happy to see it.

“
Whoa,” he called to Buster as he reined his horse to a stop in front of the Comfort Palace’s hitching post. He lowered Lucinda to the ground, then jumped down himself.

“
I can hardly wait to dress like a woman again,” exclaimed Lucinda as she hurried into the building, “just as soon as I have a vociferous conversation with Sadie!”

He might have a little chat with Sadie himself, so he agreed with the schoolteacher on that point, but certainly not on the first. No matter how she dressed, she was definitely all woman.

She’d probably take a bath first thing. Reese shook the image out of his mind. At least with her wiggling bottom off his lap, maybe he could get some peace.

He led Buster into the barn and pulled off the saddle and bags before putting him into the stall. Nice and clean, he noticed. Someone, probably Gus, had spread new straw. Reese gave the horse some oats to keep him occupied during the brushing. Buster deserved a little extra attention, hauling two riders for over ten miles. Reese patted Buster on the rump as he left the stall, where Gus met him.

“
You found your visitor yet?” Gus asked with a worried look. They walked toward the Comfort Palace.

“
Nope, and I figure one’s enough.” A certainty—Miss Lucinda Sharpe tried his soul, all right. “Who the hell else decided to honor us with his presence?”

“
Your buddy, Hannibal Hank. He’s out in the barn sleeping off a dose of laudanum big enough to fell a horse.”

Reese stopped short and faced Gus. “I hate to ask, but how’d that happen? And why’s he here?”

What would draw Hank here, so far away from the big money? He liked his creature comforts and wasn’t given to do an honest day’s work. Hank lived off women and gambling and not much of either could be found in Dickshooter.

“
Says he’s owner of the saloon here. I wouldn’t doubt if he’s heard about the strike over in Delamar. Dickshooter’s on the main route, you know. Good for business.”

“
Shit. I suppose he thinks he’s going to wangle this place out of me. But if I did sell this place, it sure as hell wouldn’t be to him.”

“
Prob’ly. But right now you’d better get your butt in the house. Fannie’s been chomping at the bit to talk to you.”