Quicksilver Passion (7 page)

A murmur ran through the crowd at his words. The girl’s expression went as cold as her eyes.
That’s hardly your concern, now is it?”

I reckon not,” he drawled, feeling the flush rise up past his collar.

She seemed to sense his embarrassed discomfort and looked almost sympathetic.
Where you from, plowboy?”

Georgia, but I’ve spent some time in Tennessee.” She was a Yankee, most likely, although he couldn’t place the accent.

I thought Southern men drank bourbon.”

He felt big and awkward and foolish.
Used to. But . . .” He didn’t finish. The night he had awakened in Savannah’s bed, he’d sworn he’d never touch another drop. Cherokee Evans was a man of his word.

All the other men were waiting, listening. If he didn’t ask her soon, some other man would. And if another man tried to take Silver up those stairs, Cherokee wouldn’t be able to stop himself; he’d kill him with his bare hands.

The girl finished her coffee and started to turn away.

If he didn’t ask her now, the moment would be lost. It didn’t matter that the others were listening.
I’d—I’d like to be your customer tonight,” he blurted.

What? What did you say?” She whirled on him, her pale aqua eyes blazing.

He heard a titter of laughter down the bar as men nudged each other and repeated what he’d said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Al moving toward him behind the bar.
You know what I mean. I’ll pay whatever you usually charge and then some—”

Her hand shot out and she slapped him so hard, he felt his head snap back. The sound might have been heard all over the saloon.

Automatically, Cherokee’s hand felt his stinging cheek while laughter rang up and down the bar.

My Gawd, did you hear what he asked Miss Silver? Must be a greenhorn!”

The girl herself stood with small feet apart, hands on her hips.
Fella, the boys have made you the butt of a joke tonight. Don’t you realize I own this place?”

She whirled to leave while the laughter echoed around them. He felt rage sweep over him; he would kill all these white men for their joke. He would . . .

Silver was walking away and that fact overrode his anger. Without thinking, Cherokee reached out and caught her arm.
Wait! Don’t go!”

Abruptly, he felt the distinctive outline of the barrel of a double-barreled shotgun against his back and heard Al’s low growl.
Get your hands off her! No man alive puts his hands on Miss Silver!”