Banking on Temperance (13 page)

“What, you don’t think I could pull off masquerading as a man? You said yourself, I’m good with a gun, and I’m an expert horsewoman. I don’t even see why we need a man with us.”

Basil lifted his hands into the air and began ticking off his points on his fingers. “Because you’re going to be heading into deserts, mountains, crossing raging rivers, and facing Indians, not all of whom are going to welcome you with open arms in the same manner the Lafontaines have done. How do you think your wagon is going to get up the Rocky Mountains? Even if you have enough money by spring to trade in those skinny mules of yours for healthy, strong oxen, there’s still going to be the need for a strong shoulder to push the wagons along. And you’re too small, whether you decide to dress in a skirt or in pants.”

Tears were threatening again. “Can’t I at least try? My family is counting on me, and I wasn’t able to keep Jeremiah’s interest for even a few months. He married someone else and turned his back on us when we most needed him. I must find a way to finish what my father started, and get my brothers safely to Oregon, and out of the way of the war that’s coming.”

“Ah, Temperance,” Basil spoke softly. “Jeremiah just faced the truth a bit sooner than you. He knows what you have been trying to deny, but he was brave enough to do something about it. As much as I dislike him, I have to applaud the man. You two weren’t meant to be together. You weren’t in love with each other. But while you clung to the idea he would help your family, he realized that without love, what you were asking him to do was a huge commitment with no payoff.”

“But he rejected me.” She lowered her eyes and pleated her skirt with her fingers.

“Which only proves the unworthiness of the man. Temperance, he is a fool, and you don’t need a fool in your life.”

“Possibly not, but I need some man in my life if we’re ever to get to Oregon.”

Basil was silent for a minute while his gaze raked over her body and face. Then he stood up, scraping his chair back from the desk. “All right then, if you want to be a man, we need to put you into the proper attire and see how you do.”

Temperance’s hopes went up a notch. “Really? Will you help me? I brought some of Justice’s clothes with me. Can we begin my lessons on how to be a man right after I finish my work?”

• • •

“So, how do I look?” Temperance came out of the little office room dressed in her brother’s clothing. Basil smiled at her attire and twirled his finger in the air. She nodded and executed a pirouette that would make a ballet dancer jealous. “Well?”

Basil tried to take his mind off how her brother’s pants hugged the swell of her hip. And how the rough shirt she had tucked into those pants only highlighted her bosom. He pressed his lips together and gave her a critical glance.

“You resemble a twelve-year-old girl playing dress-up.”

Temperance was crushed. “Can we fix it? Maybe if I cut my hair … ” She reached into her bag and brought out a large pair of scissors. She grabbed a lock of her hair and positioned it between the blades. Basil’s hand encircled her wrist and he removed the scissors from her hand.

“No.” His strangled voice sounded strange even to him. The thought of her chopping off her lovely, flowing light brown curls grabbed him in the gut. “You can do that later, if you decide to go ahead with this idiocy. For tonight, let’s just shove your hair under a cap.”

“Well, what else can I do?”

“You can start by binding yourself up.” He swirled his hand in front of her chest area. She blushed under his perusal.

“Oh. I thought I was so small that no one would notice.”

“Believe me, Temperance, people will notice. I notice.”

Her blush deepened. “All right then. I did bring a length of muslin to use for that purpose if necessary. What else?”

Basil pondered her smooth face for a moment. “I have an idea.” He moved over to the wood stove and opened the door. Sticking his fingers in the ash, he returned to her side and took hold of her chin. He painted on thicker brows and added a dusting of ash around her cheeks and chin, to emulate whisker growth. He blended it in with his fingers and his handkerchief, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin under his fingers. He was loath to stop, but if he didn’t soon, they’d be right back where they were the night of the snowstorm.

Being so close to her lips was way too tempting. And he was enjoying this playful side of Temperance, who was usually so focused on her work and family that she had little time to have fun. He also was aware this was not a game to her, but rather, serious business. He made one final pass with the handkerchief to blend his work, and held onto her shoulders while he took one last look.

“May I see?” She moved restlessly under him. Reluctantly, he backed off and let her run to the mirror in the small room off to the side. “I’ll be just a minute.” She closed the door to wrap her chest in binding. Opening the door again, she tucked her hair up under her large hat and took one last look in the mirror. “It might work at that,” she said hopefully.

She walked back into the large room of the bank, and Basil grinned. “Not if you keep walking that way, swishing your hips.”

“I don’t ‘swish.’ But if I am not walking in an appropriate manner, show me how I’m to do it.”

“You’ve got to put some attitude into it, and have a swagger about yourself. Sort of this way.” He walked from one end of the room to the other. “Now, you.” He stood in the corner as she executed a graceful glide across the floorboards. “No, you’re not an actress on a stage. You’re a rough, tough cowboy who can shoot the feathers off a chicken at fifty paces. Watch me.” He exaggerated his hip movements and his stride. She tried again.

“That’s better. So, with the attire and the swagger and the fake mustache, you might pass for sixteen.”

“Sixteen? But, as a girl, I’m eighteen!”

“Perhaps you should stay a girl then, Temperance.” Basil smiled at her. Her back straightened and her chin, ash and all, came up a few degrees. Uh-oh. By now he could tell what the lift in her chin meant.

“I’m determined to see this through. It’s my last hope.”

Basil sighed. “All right then. Let’s do some play-acting. Pretend you’ve just come into the tavern and you belly up to the bar. What do you do next?”

“I’d order a sarsaparilla.”

He raked his hands through his hair. “See? This is just what I mean. Sarsaparilla? What gun-toting man is going to want that to drink?”

“I see what you mean. I guess I’d order an ale, then.”

“All right. That’s better. Let me hear you place your order.”

She grinned up at him, suddenly getting into the spirit of this adventure. “Barkeep, bring me a beer!”

“You’re getting there. Just try to say it in a deeper voice. Most boys lose their tenor voices by the time they’re twelve or thirteen.”

“Oh, right.” She lowered her voice. “Barkeep, bring me a beer.”

To Basil’s ears, her lowered voice sounded seductive rather than manly. But he was enjoying her obvious delight in the game, so he didn’t try to change it. He could listen to her use that delectable voice all night.

“Can we go now?”

“Go where?” Basil’s stomach took a dive as he suddenly realized she wanted to test her disguise in front of strangers.

“Well, to the tavern, of course. I’ve wondered how the inside of it was decorated. Now’s my chance, Basil.”

He gazed into her face, and caught the flash of excitement in her eyes. He could deny her nothing. He only hoped he could defend her honor, if it came to that.

With trepidation, he opened the door to the street, and they crossed to the bar together. This was not going to go well.

Temperance’s excitement ratcheted up as they approached the swinging double doors of the saloon. She put on her best swagger and followed Basil into the tavern. The air was thick with cigarette and cigar smoke and a gentleman was in the corner of the room, pounding out a lively tune on a tinny, slightly out of tune piano. Men were sitting around rough-hewn tables, playing cards and drinking beer and whisky. No one bothered them as they walked through the room and went to the bar.

“What’ll it be tonight, Basil?” The barkeeper was familiar with his clientele. “Who’s your friend?” He threw a quick glance to Temperance, who kept her eyes cast downward.

“Two beers, Zach. This here’s my nephew, just newly arrived in town from back east. He goes by the name of … ”

Oh Lord, they’d forgotten to give her a name. She took a gulp and held out her hand to the bartender. At least her hand was callused enough to resemble a man’s hand, even if it was small. She gave him the first name that sprang to mind, and remembered to lower her voice. “Jeremiah. Pleased to meet you, sir.”

The barkeep took her hand and squeezed it so hard tears came to her eyes. “Well, Jerry, the girls will be happy to see a young man such as yourself. Any new face in town is a cause for celebration for them.” He plunked down two mugs of ale in front of them and walked off to his next customer.

“Jeremiah? That’s the name you came up with?” Basil spoke in a low voice.

“I panicked, and that’s all I could think of.”

Basil ran his hand through his hair. “Hopefully, we won’t have any more cause to introduce you to anyone tonight. Drink up.”

She took a tentative sip of her beer, and coughed as it made its way down her windpipe. Basil thumped her on her back, laughing.

“Can I get in on the fun?” a female voice drifted between them. Temperance risked a look up and stared straight into the eyes of the woman she had seen Basil with on the sidewalk a few days ago. The woman who had barely any clothing on as she paraded through the streets of town. She planted herself between Basil and Temperance and wrapped her arms around Basil, kissing him. He unwound her arms and opened up some space between them. He even seemed a bit embarrassed.

“Good evening, Desireé,” he said. “It’s nice to see you again, too.” He took one more step away from the woman. She turned her gaze to Temperance.

“And what do we have here?” She ran her hand down Temperance’s arm and flicked a glance over her face. “I’ve never seen you before. Has Basil been hiding you so he could keep me all to himself?”

Basil reached over and took Temperance’s other arm, pulling her away from Desireé’s grasp. “This is my nephew, newly arrived in town. He’s a mite shy.”

Desireé took another step forward. “I am attracted to shy men,” she purred as her hand moved from Temperance’s arm and slid down her back. When she cupped Temperance’s buttock and gave it a little slap, Temperance let out a small squeak.

“Leave him alone, Desireé. He’s only a youngster.”

“Umm, young and shy. Just my type.” She boldly pressed her body up against Temperance’s and bit her earlobe. Temperance squirmed away.

Suddenly Basil was in between them, making certain Temperance would not be accosted further. She breathed a sigh of relief.

But Desireé would not be deterred. She reached around Basil, and growled, “I want a closer look at this sweet young man who you seem to think is too precious for me to touch,” she grabbed Temperance’s big hat and knocked it off her head.

Temperance gasped as the hat went flying across the room. Her long hair spilled around her face. One by one, the men in the bar turned to look at her. Cards quit being shuffled, conversations came to a halt. When the piano man cut short his song, she raised her eyes and glanced around the quiet room.

“I apologize for interrupting your evening, gentlemen. And ladies.” She turned to Desireé and bowed slightly. “I merely asked to see the inside of a tavern and Mr. Fitzpatrick went along with my crazy idea. I’ll leave now.” She turned on her heel and headed toward the door.

“Are you any good at poker, young miss?” She turned around and her gaze darted to the table where a group of grisly, dirty men were playing with a battered deck of cards. The man who spoke lifted his sweat-stained hat from his head and nodded in her direction.

A gleam lit her eyes as she answered. “Even though my father was a preacher, he often unwound by playing cards at the end of the day. It’s how I learned to count. Do you have room for one more?” She began to stride across the room when suddenly she was whisked off her feet.

Basil glanced at the table of men as he hoisted Temperance over his shoulder. “Gentlemen, I think Miss Jones has provided all of us with enough entertainment for one night. We’ll take our leave.” He walked out of the tavern, with her kicking and screaming at him. Laughter echoed from the place as the swinging double doors closed behind them.

When he got to the other side of the street, he set her down on the wooden sidewalk. She lashed out at him with her foot, kicking him in the shin. As he bent over, grabbing his leg in pain, her fist connected with his face. A solid left hook got him smack-dab in the eye. He yelped and backed away from her.

“What has gotten into you, for Christ’s sake?” He held his hand over the damaged eye.

“It’s not bad enough that I was made a spectacle of when your little girlfriend pulled my hat off. If only I hadn’t listened to you, and cut my hair, I could have kept up the charade. That’s what the kick in the shin was for. But then, I almost made things right again by taking the gentleman up on his offer to play cards when you sweep me off my feet and carry me from the tavern as if I were a sack of potatoes! That’s why I punched you. And, from the look of your eye, you’ll have quite a nice shiner in the morning.” She grinned.

His fingers touched the skin around his eye. He winced as he scowled at her. “Yes, you may resemble a girl, even when you’re dressed in your brother’s clothing, but you sure as hell don’t fight like one.”

Frustrated tears welled up in her eyes. “That was my last chance to get my family to Oregon.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

She fought back the tears as he gazed at her intently.

“Perhaps now you’ll consider staying in St. Louis a bit longer. You’re about to move into the Lafontaines’ hunter’s cabin so your accommodations will be better.”

“We can’t continue to accept the hospitality of the Lafontaines, Basil. The Jones family always makes our own way. If we stay, we will find lodging here in town in the spring. Ma can take in washing while she’s nursing the new baby. Lord knows there are enough dirty men in this town. And I can find something more to do … ”