Bartered Bride Romance Collection (55 page)

“Fed breakfast to most of the men in town. Most don’t sleep in as late as you do. There’s more bread rising. Bertie’s watching the oven to allow Miss Bently and me a little time together.”

He ignored the jibe at his sleeping habits. “I’ve something on my own stove I’d like to ask you about. Would you mind?” He waved toward the back room.

Bess frowned. “Now?”

“Hate to interrupt the lesson, but the pot is on the stove right this minute.”

As the door to the back room closed behind them, Bess looked around the area where Gideon stored inventory. “I don’t see a stove.”

“It’s behind the curtain.”

Bess took a step toward it.

“Where Harry and I sleep,” Gideon expanded.

She stopped, her expression a mixture of curiosity and outrage.

“Don’t bother going in,” Gideon continued. “The only pot on my stove is filled with this awful stuff I call coffee.” He took a drink. Grimaced. “I asked you back here—”

“It sounded more like a demand.” Bess crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, one toe bouncing against the floorboards in an irritated rhythm.

What right had she to be angry when she’d invaded his saloon? He pointed toward the door separating them from the bar and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. “What are you thinking, coming in here with that woman?”

“Do you normally object to that woman’s presence here?”

He took a deep breath and counted to ten. It wasn’t high enough, but he spoke anyway. “Didn’t you understand a word I said the other night?”

“Yes. You forbade me to teach Regina in your house.”

“So—”

“This isn’t your house. It’s your place of business. She’s in here every night. How can you object to her presence here in the morning?”

He closed the space between them with two steps and brought his face close to hers. “You aren’t in here every night. That’s the point.”

“You’ll see me here every day from now on. I should think you’d be pleased.”

“Pleased?”

She shrugged. “You claim it will hurt my reputation if I allow Miss Bently into your home. If I teach her here, everyone will know our relationship is that of teacher and student. You’ll no longer need concern yourself for my reputation.”

“You’re determined to misunderstand me.”

“I don’t think I misunderstand at all. Now if you’ll excuse me, Miss Bently and I only have an hour for the lesson, and you’re using up precious minutes.”

She brushed past him, entered the saloon, and closed the door firmly behind her.

Gideon stalked through the curtains to the stove and added more thick coffee to his cup. For a moment, he considered partaking of something stronger, but he’d given up drinking almost a year ago. An ornery woman like Bess Craig wasn’t going to drive him back to it. He liked to keep his head about him, even if he did make a living helping others lose theirs.

It didn’t do his temper a bit of good to find four doughnuts on the bar when he returned to the saloon. “Miss Craig brought them,” Harry said, “for the use of the table. I said it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. I ate two already. They’re mighty good.”

Gideon grunted and walked to the other end of the bar, pretending to check the stock. He wouldn’t be bribed by Bess Craig’s baking. “Sweep the floor, Harry.”

He kept his resolve for all of ten minutes before grabbing one of the doughnuts. Just one, he told himself. But that doughnut was the best thing he’d eaten since he went to Cheyenne almost a year ago to celebrate the Fourth of July, so he helped himself to another and almost considered it a blessing the day the Craig sisters moved into town.

Twenty minutes later Doc Mitchel strolled in.

“First customer of the day, just like normal,” Harry whispered as he passed Gideon.

Only a few men came in before late afternoon, as a rule. “Least he didn’t sleep here last night,” Gideon whispered back.

Doc Mitchel didn’t walk directly to the bar as usual. He swerved to the table where Bess and Regina sat. Standing across from them, he tipped his hat. “Morning, ladies. Miss Craig, what a delightful surprise.”

Bess’s neck and cheeks colored, but she met the doctor’s gaze and nodded. “Doctor.”

Gideon froze, watching the encounter, listening for every word and nuance. He didn’t like the way Doc looked at Bess. A nasty expression had slipped over Doc’s face. Some might call it a smile, but Gideon knew better. He could see Regina did, too, from the way she cringed.

“Is the good Miss Craig teaching you letters, Regina?” Exaggerated innocence turned Doc’s tone syrupy.

Regina straightened her backbone but stared at her slate. “Yes, sir.”

“And what would you be teaching the good Miss Craig?” Doc raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Gideon set the bottle he was holding down harder than necessary, walked around the bar, and headed for the table. He’d known something like this would happen sooner or later. Now he knew how Ramon felt protecting Bertie. Gideon felt like growling himself. Instead, he groaned as three more men walked in, all of them stopping to stare at Bess, Regina, and Doc.

Doc leaned on the table and grinned. “Why don’t you show me, Regina? Or perhaps you’ll show me yourself, Miss Craig? Or do you go by Bessie now?”

Bess surged to her feet. “Mr. Mitchel, I demand an apology. For myself and Miss Bently.”

“Apology?” Doc laughed. It turned into a guffaw by the time Gideon reached him. Gideon grabbed Doc’s jacket at the back of the neck. Doc’s laugh choked off. “What—? Gideon?”

“ ’Fraid you’re leaving here for the day, Doc.”

“But—”

“Before you leave, how about that apology?”

The three male spectators snickered. Gideon glared at them. The snickers stopped.

“But, Gideon—” Doc wailed.

“You apologize, and I’ll consider letting you come back tomorrow.”

“Course I’ll apologize. Meant to all along. Just teasing the ladies a mite.”

“Uh-huh. Let’s hear it.”

Doc wiggled. “If you’d just loosen your hold a bit—” Gideon let go.

Doc ran his fingers between his collar and his throat.

Gideon pulled Doc’s felt hat from his head and slapped it against Doc’s stomach. “The apology.”

Doc clutched the hat with both hands. “Uh, ladies—”

“They have names,” Gideon reminded.

“Uh, yes, Miss Craig. Regina.”

“Miss Bently,” Gideon suggested firmly.

“Uh, yes. Miss Bently. I’m sure you realize I was joking when I said … suggested … I realize my remarks were, um, tasteless. I’m sure two such fine ladies as yourselves will forgive me for my, um, breach of manners.”

“Apology acceptable?” Gideon looked from Bess to Regina.

Bess glared at Doc. Regina stared, openmouthed, but nodded.

Gideon ushered Doc toward the door past the again-snickering cowboys. “Don’t come back until tomorrow, Doc.”

“Can’t you send home a bottle with me? One little old bottle?”

“Try Cheyenne’s saloons.” He pushed Doc through the batwing doors and turned back to the saloon. He stopped, hands on his hips, in front of the three grinning cowboys. “You here for drinks, or will you be following Doc?”

“Drinks, just drinks.” One of the men held up his hands as though Gideon was robbing him. All three back-stepped toward the bar, watching Gideon the entire way.

Gideon walked back to the table, his heart still pumping wildly from his anger.

“Thank you,” Bess said, looking relieved.

Regina stood. “I’m sorry I caused trouble, Gideon.”

Bess gave her a shocked look. “Dr. Mitchel caused trouble, not you.”

Gideon exchanged glances with Regina. They understood each other. The saloon was their world, not Bess’s. “It’s all right, Reg … Miss Bently.” Her smile lit up the room.

All that for calling her Miss Bently? He never thought Margaret’s girls cared that they were called by their given names. He hadn’t even known Regina’s last name until he heard Bess use it.

Bess rested her hand on Regina’s sleeve. “Perhaps we should end the lesson for today. The hour’s almost up anyway.”

Regina nodded. “Thank you kindly, Miss Craig.”

Bess handed her the slate. “We’ll meet here tomorrow at the same time.” Regina glanced at Gideon.

Gideon clamped his lips together and looked away. Bess Craig would never forgive him if he told Regina not to come back tomorrow morning. But he couldn’t clamp down his frustration at Bess Craig’s foolishness.

“All right, Miss Craig,” Regina agreed.

The doors swung behind her as she left. Gideon allowed himself to meet Bess’s gaze.

She was smiling. “You were quite wonderful, Mr. Riker.” He snorted. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.”

“But—”

“If you think this won’t happen again with some other customer, you’re wrong.” Her smile died. Her face tightened into that rigid look he found so off-putting. Gideon sighed. “All right, I apologize for insulting you. But the warning stands.” She glared at him and left.

He marched back to the bar where Harry was serving the three men in time to overhear, “Imagine one of Margaret’s girls thinkin’ she can learn to read.”

Gideon glared at the cowboy. “You jealous ’cause you can’t read?”

“Uh, no.” The cowboy finished off his drink in one gulp and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Let’s go, boys.”

Gideon watched them leave. Those women were costing him business. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

Chapter 8

T
he day hasn’t improved one iota
, Gideon thought, listening to a retelling of the morning’s events by one of the men at the bar. Almost midnight and men were still laughing at Doc. Just so they didn’t laugh at Bess. A clatter broke through the laughter, music, and bottles clinking against glasses. It didn’t register for a moment, but it went on and on and, suddenly, Gideon recognized the sound. The lunch triangle at the house! Fear shot through him.

He took off running. A crash resounded as the bottle he dropped hit the floor. He grabbed his rifle from behind the counter as he passed it and ran through the back room and out the back door. His chest ached with fright as he rounded the back porch of the house.

A lantern cast swinging shadows across the porch and yard. The cow stood on the porch, bawling. Bess was yelling and ringing the triangle.

Gideon heard a growl and slid to a stop so fast he fell down. He was up in a flash. His gaze searched for Ramon. He spotted the dog on the porch near the cow, growling, straining to get away from Bertie. “What’s going on?”

Another growl, low and fierce and way too near, sent him onto the porch pronto.

“What—?”

“It’s wolves,” Bess yelled over the clanging. “After the cow.” Something bumped into him from behind. He jumped and felt like his heart jumped higher than he did.

“What’s going on, Gideon?” a voice behind him asked.

“Harry, what’re you doing here? Never mind. Stay put. Bess, stop that banging.”

She didn’t. “I thought the sound might frighten them away.”

Gideon grabbed the metal bar from her. “It’s going to frighten me away.” He shot off the rifle. There were soft thudding sounds out in the night and then silence.

“They’re gone.” Bertie sounded surprised.

“They’ll be back.” Gideon motioned toward the open back door where Walter stood, wide-eyed. “Get that dog inside. He’s no match for a pack of wolves. And bring me some lit kindling.”

Bertie, Walter, and Harry together dragged Ramon inside.

In the lantern light, Gideon could see Bess’s hair tumbling over her shoulders to her waist. He caught his breath at the sight.

“What are you going to do with the kindling?”

Her question brought him back to the present. “Wolves don’t like fire. But they like cows staked out like a dinner invitation.”

“We haven’t a cow shed.”

Business had kept him so busy, he’d forgotten his promise to build the shed. “We’ll take her to the jailhouse.”

“What will Mr. Llewellyn and Mr. Potter say to that?”

“I’m not planning to ask them. Where are the chickens? Did the wolves get them?”

“No. We put the chicken crate on the roof at night to keep them from the wolves.”

“Good idea.”

Bess insisted on going with him to the jailhouse. She led the terrified cow while he carried the torch and rifle. They stopped at the well for a pail of water for the cow.

“Are you sure the w–wolves will come back?” Bess asked on their way back to the house.

“I’m sure. Once they find the cow gone, they’ll leave you alone. If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll stay at the house awhile.”

“Don’t be silly. You need to get back to your business.” Her voice trembled in spite of her bravado.

The tremble gentled his own tone. “Harry can handle things.”

“If you’re sure—”

The relief in her voice made him very sure.

When they arrived back, Gideon sent Harry to the saloon, and Bess sent Walter and Bertie to bed. Then Bess and Gideon settled down in the parlor: Bess on the hope chest, Gideon leaning against the wall where he could see out the window, his rifle near at hand.

His gaze drifted to Bess’s hair, where the lamplight played on it. “If you’d like to go to bed, I’ll keep watch.”