Chapter 17

 

The parlor wall sconce sputtered, and Sunny jabbed her needle into the dress material, freeing her hand to rub her eyes. Glancing over at her aunt, she found her with her head bowed, asleep with her chin on her chest. The pretty white material of the dress Cassie was finishing up for Teddy spread over Cassie's black skirt, contrasting with the darker material in the dim light.

She rose and quietly added some more kerosene to the glass sconce, relighting it before she crossed to the chair where Cassie sat. For a moment, she pondered the change in the other woman since the fundraiser. Still recalcitrant and abrupt, Cassie had nevertheless offered to assist with the new gowns for Teddy and Sunny to wear to opening night of the Cultural Center. At wit's end to make sure every tiny detail was handled before tomorrow night, Sunny gratefully accepted her assistance.

Today when Sunny arrived home, Cassie had sewn the seams of Sunny's watered silk blue gown in place, leaving Sunny with only the hem to complete. After she tucked Teddy into bed, she found Cassie already in the parlor, working some embroidered pink roses into the neck of Teddy's gown. She'd commented on how beautiful the gown had turned out and how pretty it would be on Teddy, only to receive a shrug from Cassie.

"She's living with us," Cassie had said. "We want her dressed appropriately, so she won't disgrace us."

Yesterday, Cassie had even insisted she needed Teddy at the house instead of spending her afternoon with Ruth at the store. When Teddy had seemed agreeable to the change in plans, Sunny had left her, returning to find them baking cookies in the kitchen. Could she hope Cassie might be thawing toward the little girl? More to the point, would this change in her aunt hold firm or would she turn back into the prune-faced recluse Sunny had first met?

And just how much did Charlie Duckworth have to do with all this? She knew he'd been by the house yesterday, because Teddy had chattered away about his visit at dinner that evening. Awestruck, Teddy had raved about the beautiful horse Charlie had led with him, insisting Cassie change into riding clothing and take a short jaunt with him. He'd taken Teddy on the front of his horse, and she'd had such a glorious time.

But Charlie Duckworth made sure he left before Sunny arrived home, although Teddy has also imparted the important news that Charlie was taking Cassie to the opening night gala.

Sunny nudged Cassie's shoulder, and Cassie started.

"Oh," she said, shaking her head, "I fell asleep. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight, Aunt," Sunny replied. She picked up the dress from Cassie's lap and shook it out, holding it up to peruse. "It's gorgeous, Aunt. The roses are the exact touch it needed."

"Yes. Well, I'll press both the dresses tomorrow and hang them in your rooms. All you'll have to do when you get home is take your bath and get ready."

"What are you wearing, Aunt?" Sunny asked slyly. "I haven't seen your dress yet."

"It's nothing special," Cassie denied. "I did look at the Godey's catalog over at Ruth's the other day to see what the styles were now. I had a navy dress that I took a few tucks in and added some lace to. It will do fine, although I refuse to wear one of those dress enhancers Ruth tried to talk me into buying."

"You mean a bustle? It's the latest, Aunt, and we do want to keep from disgracing ourselves, don't we?" Sunny teased. Instead of responding to the joshing tone of Sunny's voice, Cassie's face closed up, deepening the age lines on each side of her nose. She took the dress from Sunny.

"I believe my nap has refreshed me somewhat, and I'll have trouble falling asleep. The dress collar needs one more rose to complete it, so I'll finish that now. You need to get your own rest, Niece, or you'll be dead on your feet tomorrow night, so go on to bed. I'll lock the house up."

"All right, Aunt Cassie," Sunny murmured, fighting the urge to push Cassie into further conversation. Perhaps the slow and easy way would work better with her aunt. In any event, as soon as opening night was behind her, she would have lots more time to pursue her own goals. Who knew but what she might even get a chance to corner Charlie Duckworth on opening night and make him realize with a few well-planned remarks that she knew he wasn't at all what he seemed to be.

Murmuring a good night to Cassie, she left the parlor. In her bedroom, she quickly changed into her nightgown, then turned back the bedspread and crisp sheets. The bed beckoned, but so did her nightly ritual of one hundred strokes to her hair. Sighing tiredly, she took her seat at the dressing table and began pulling hairpins free, laying them carefully in a glass dish, then picking up her silver-handled hairbrush. She counted up to fifty strokes before she remembered leaving the watered silk gown lying carelessly on the back of the settee. The least she could do was hang it, so Cassie would have fewer wrinkles to press out the next day.

She hurriedly finished the remaining fifty strokes, then laid her brush down and stood. Her bare feet pattered soundlessly down the hallway, and the sight in the parlor froze her before she entered the room.

Cassie stood with head bowed, her fingers brushing the embroidered roses on Teddy's gown. Tears streaked her cheeks, and the front of her gown shone like wet black silk with moisture. Sunny took a step toward her, but Cassie's tortured voice stopped her in mid-stride.

"Oh, Sammy," Cassie whispered harshly. "How could you? How could he? Oh, Charlie. I just can't understand it, Duckie. After all these years, I still can't understand it."

Sunny backed noiselessly away and returned to her room. Closing her door with a quiet click, she leaned against it. Sympathy for her aunt's obvious heartbreak stabbed her, though she couldn't keep from trying to interpret Cassie's words, given what she had already gleaned about the past.

Ruth had been clear that Charlie had his eye set on Cassie, but Cassie rejected his suit in favor of another man's. Had Cassie then realized she had indeed loved Charlie, after Charlie's attention turned to her sister and they left town together? It made sense that way, but then things got murky. Taking into consideration the happenings of the last few days — Cassie's acceptance of Charlie's apparent courtship once again — had Charlie in turn realized he had left his own true love back in Liberty Flats? Left her mother to return there and worship Cassie from afar for all these years, with Cassie deciding to give their attraction another chance now that her sister had passed on?

She walked over to the mirror and studied her face. She didn't see even one similar quality in her features to what she'd noticed the few times she'd got close enough to Charlie Duckworth to examine him. She looked like her mother — the same heartshaped face and blond, tumultuous hair; a slender nose and lips she thought a tad too full for the fashion of the day.

Suddenly another pair of lips wavered in front of her gaze, and the hazy face took form in her mind. Those lips fit hers exactly so — except when he pursed them into a friendly kiss that would have been more appropriate as a peck on her cheek! Gritting her teeth at the vexation of the intruding thoughts, she flounced away from the mirror and crawled into bed. She closed her eyes tightly, willing sleep to her exhausted body.

A halo of light intruded, outlining the image of rugged features and ebony hair cascading in tempting silkiness. Her finger twitched, recalling, she supposed, twisting into the damp locks last week. Her eyes flew open, and she shifted onto her elbow, leaning over to blow out the lantern on the beside table. It didn't help much, but at least the image behind her eyelids faded somewhat when she positioned herself on the pillow again.

Funny, though, she mused, how her dreams all took place in bright daylight, needing not one iota of artificial illumination for her to see every feature on that ruggedly handsome face.

Land sakes! Wasn't she ever going to fall asleep? She adjusted the pillow, then burrowed into it. But it wasn't until she fell deep into those whiskey eyes in her mind that darkness closed around her.

~~

Sunny cheerfully accepted yet another dollar bill from a spiffied up, spurs a'jingling cowboy and directed him to hang his spurs with the others on the wall. Jake stood nearby, taking possession of any firearms the cowboys had forgotten to leave in their saddlebags. One or two grumbled about giving up their pistols, but Jake only had to mention they were able to get a refund on their money if they didn't want to comply with the rules. No one wanted to miss the show tonight.

Word had spread already of the talents of Grace Adams, the opening night singer, and a crowd had been waiting when the stagecoach pulled in that afternoon. The singer's stylish dress, golden hair and very attractive face had the men removing their hats in awe, and each vowing to be first in line for tickets that evening.

Sunny had considered herself extremely lucky to get two rooms at the sole boarding house for Grace and her manager. Ginny had offered her suite of rooms to Grace and said she could bunk in with one of her other employees, and even move two of them into the same room so the manager could have a private room. However, Sunny had learned of two of the boarders leaving on the stage that same afternoon and offered the boarding house proprietress a little extra for the use of the rooms for the night.

During a break in the entering customers, Sunny scanned the room. The wall sconces would be dimmed before they opened the curtain at the end of the room, and the tables were already crowded with men and women. Vases of wildflowers set in the middle of the white linen tablecloths, and Sunny giggled under her breath when she noticed the cowboys with their hands on top of the hats in their laps. None of them dared to cock an elbow on the snowy cloths.

Frilly sheer curtains billowed at the open windows in the front of the building, yet the odors of the women's perfumes and men's bay rum mingled in the air. Pride filled Sunny, on her own behalf and for the women and men who had accomplished turning this dingy room into a gleaming masterpiece and a fit background for the women's gay finery.

Ginny sidled up to her, a frown on her face. "What's wrong?" Sunny asked. "Oh, please. Everything's been going so well."

"It's nothing to worry about," Ginny said, her mouth curling in scorn. "It's that Grace Adams. What a hoity toity snoot she is!" Ginny placed the back of her hand against her forehead, and continued in a fake Southern drawl, "Why, Ah swan. Ah really must rest myself before the performance. Y'all won't mind if Ah partake of the opportunity to use that l'il old couch in your office, will you, Ginny, dear? It seems Ah have arrived a tiny bit early. And would you mind askin' that dahling Teddy child to bring me a glass of somethin' cool? To soothe mah delicate throat, doncha know?"

Sunny snickered, then gave Ginny a chastising look. "Some performers are quite the prima donnas, Ginny. We were extremely lucky to get Grace Adams. Why, it's almost unheard of for a performer of her stature to have a propitious hole in her schedule and be able to perform in a town as small as Liberty Flats."

"Well, she sent that manager of hers over earlier, demanding to know who had been assigned to assist her in dressing! I had to send Marg back with him, and I really needed her to help serve drinks. This whole town's been bursting at the seams since this morning, and I haven't had a day like this since I took over the saloon. I've even actually turned customers away and told them maybe Saul had room for them!"

"Oh, dear," Sunny said with a chuckle. "I'll bet those were hard words for you to get out."

"Bet your bustle," Ginny said with a wink. "Why, Ah swan," she continued in a lower voice. "Looka who's a comin' in the door. I better get out of here before she sees who you're talking to."

Sunny glanced up to see her aunt and Charlie Duckworth almost at the reception desk and grabbed Ginny's arm before she could leave. "You stay right here, Ginny McAllister," she said in an undertone.

"Aunt Cassie," she greeted. "And Mr. Duckworth, isn't it? Why, Aunt, you look so pretty tonight."

Charlie gave Cassie a fond look. "Doesn't she, though? Blue's always been Cassie's color." He looked at Sunny, staring at her for a long, silent moment. "I haven't had a chance to tell you how sorry I am about what happened to your mother, Miss Fannin. Please accept my deepest condolences."

"Thank you," Sunny replied. She didn't want to like this man — did she? He had such a nice twinkle when he looked at Cassie, though, and anyone who could bring a faint blush to her crotchety aunt's cheeks must have some redeeming quality. Still, she had pretty much made up her mind about him, and here among all these people wasn't the place to confront him.

"I was wondering," she said, "if we might talk sometime about my mother. I understand you and she were very close...uh...friends."

"We were," Charlie agreed without any hint of evasiveness that Sunny could detect, although she noticed Cassie's fingers tighten on Charlie's arm. "Just let me know when you have time to talk, Miss Fannin."

"Please call me Sunny," she told him, and he nodded his accord. "Oh, forgive my lack of manners." She turned to Ginny, who had been trying to work her arm free of Sunny's hold with no success. "Ginny McAllister, do you know my aunt, Cassie Foster? And Mr. Duckworth?"

"Um...yes. Good evening, Miss Foster," Ginny murmured. "And Charlie."

Cassie smiled at Ginny, and Ginny's brows arched in surprise. "Teddy speaks highly of you, Miss McAllister," Cassie said. "And I understand the town owes you a lot for your contributions to this beautiful Cultural Center."

"Ah...thank you," Ginny replied. "Um...Teddy brought over some of the cookies you and she baked, and I'd love to have your recipe. And Teddy's been preening all afternoon in the beautiful dress you made for her."

"I'll write the cookie recipe down for you," Cassie said. "Now, we'd better find a seat, don't you think, Duckie?"

"We have placecards for you and Duck...uh...Mr. Duckworth at the large table we've reserved over there for our committee members, Aunt," Sunny explained. "We hoped you'd join us."

Cassie regally inclined her head as Charlie pulled something from his coat pocket and handed it to Sunny. "I've overlooked making a contribution to the Center, Sunny. This draft is on my bank in Dallas. Please use it however you see fit."

He led Cassie away, and Sunny handed the bank draft to Ginny to put with the other funds she handled for the Center. When Ginny gasped, she turned from watching Cassie and Charlie make their way through the crowded room. Ginny's wide green eyes sparkled and she fanned the bank draft in front of her face.

"Oh, my! He gave us two thousand dollars!" Ginny exclaimed. "That's way over twice what we've spent already on this place! I thought those rumors of him rolling in dough were just that. Rumors!"

"Let me...."

Jake nudged Ginny aside, turning her toward the connecting door to her saloon. "Put that damned draft in your strongbox, Ginny," he ordered. "And when the hell are you two going to get this show on the road? Those cowboys are getting restless, and some of them have been sitting at either Saul's or Ginny's all afternoon getting half drunk. You're fixing to have a riot on your hands if you don't get someone on that stage."

"Why, Jake," Ginny said, running a finger down his cheek. "We surely don't have a thing to worry about with you keeping order. Liberty Flats is safe and sound with Ranger Cameron on patrol."

Jake bent his head toward Ginny and whispered something in her ear, and Ginny's delighted laughter trilled out. Sunny clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms to keep from slapping Ginny's hand away from Jake's face. When she clamped her teeth together, she caught the edge of her tongue between them and stifled a gasp of pain.

Dang it! She'd been standing within six feet of Jake for the past hour and hadn't had one clumsy bout! Hurriedly blinking away the tears caused by her smarting tongue, she reached for the money box in front of her, taking care not to spill it as she handed it to Ginny.

"Put this away, too," she said, trying desperately not to notice how close Ginny stood to Jake. Shoot, it would be hard to get a feather between them! "I think everyone who's coming is already here."

A rhythmic clapping started on the far side of the room. "Uh oh," Jake said as the clapping spread and here and there a man stomped his boots in time. "Get your damned prima donna singer on that stage quick!"

When Sunny gazed around inanely as Ginny rushed away, Jake flashed her an annoyed look. "Look, you've got to give these people a show right now! You've built this up for weeks. Now follow through on it."

Glaring at him, Sunny straightened. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the rising clamor. "You're supposed to keep order! Go down in front and tell them to behave until Grace gets over here."

"Me? Look, you aren't dealing with a bunch of high society matrons and sissified dandies here, Sunny. If I walk up there threatening them, they're gonna show me what they think of my threats, with or without their guns on their hips!"

Shooting him a vicious glower, Sunny said, "Well, I know how to handle a bunch of out-of-control men if you don't!"

She grabbed the matching gloves for her watered-blue silk gown from the little reception desk and pulled them on. Then she pulled one long curl over her shoulder, letting it hang down to brush the top of her cleavage. For good measure, and before Jake could stop her, she inched her dress bodice down even further, then picked up her fan and evaded him when he made a grab for her.

She tapped a clapping man at the nearest table on the shoulder with her fan, widening her eyes and placing her index finger on her lips to shush him. He gulped and quieted, and she batted her eyes in thanks. Proceeding toward the front of the room, she paid attention to at least one man at each table in the same way. Silence spread in her wake, and by the time she turned to face the room, there were gape-jawed cowboys with quiet hands and feet all over the room. Recognizing her successful ploy at avoiding a riot instead of judging the way she managed it, the women scattered with their husbands at the other tables smiled gratefully at her.

Jake was right there at her side. "You didn't have to pull the damned dress top down," he snarled. Stepping in front of her, he aimed a look at her cleavage, which crinkled her nipples and shot a wave of heat into her core. Gathering her wits about her, she adjusted the bodice protectively. Jake stepped aside, and she cleared her throat.

"I want to thank all of you for coming tonight." She intentionally kept her voice low so the cowboys would have to strain to hear. "Miss Adams will entertain you in a moment," she said, hoping desperately Ginny would get the singer over there immediately. "But first I think we should all take a little time to reflect on how wonderfully well we have all worked together and...."

 

Sunny's voice faded in Jake's mind, and he tried to concentrate on the crowd of people. Instead her lemony-rose scent filled his senses, and his eyes ached with the strain of keeping them focused ahead and not at her blue-silk-clad body. Well, mostly on the parts unclad! The smooth expanse of upper arm between the capped sleeves of her gown and the end of her long blue gloves. The endless creamy skin exposed by the low-cut back of the gown, with long blond, tubular curls skimming back and forth as she moved. There was a tiny black mole right on top of one shoulder blade....

Dammit!

When she'd pulled her bodice down, his response had almost burst his trousers! It had taken every bit of willpower he could muster not to jerk that damned gown down further and feast on those breasts right there in front of everyone. His fight for control left him grabbing at her a second too late, unable to stop her when she flounced away from him in that saucy walk through those women-hungry cowboys, her hips twitching and her petticoats rustling. All he could do was follow in her wake, glaring his antagonism while his fingers twitched beside his low-hung holsters. The one cowboy who dared to lick his lips when Sunny passed almost ended up with a bullet hole right between his eyes.

Hell, though. Some man, some day, would feast on those breasts. She was much too beautiful and much too caring for some man not to want her for his wife. Some man would have those arms around his neck, those lips available to him — those legs tight around his hips. Some man would take her virginity and spend the rest of his life only having to reach for her when he wanted to sheath himself in her satin welcome. That man could take her quickly, with laughter and teasing. Or he could spend as long as he wanted tasting and stroking her body, until she begged him to make her his once again.

That man could fill her belly with his children and watch them grow. He could sit on the porch with her at sunset, reminiscing and looking back over their incredible life together.

He could love her, and be loved in return for all the days and nights of their lives.

Jake would be spending his nights staring at the walls of a grubby jailhouse or into the flames of a lonely campfire, remembering how her hair sparkled in the sunlight. Remembering the lemony-rose scent of her and comparing it to the smell of horse dung and wood smoke. Wondering who was holding her beneath that star-strewn sky. And wondering why the hell he hadn't realized he loved her in time to try to be the man she was spending her life with.

Sunny nudged him in the ribs and he jumped.

"Ginny just peeped out from the curtains and said Grace was waiting," she whispered. "Go on over to the table while I introduce her."

He stomped away, taking his seat on one of the two empty chairs at the table reserved on the far side of the room. Ruth and Cathy Percival rose, starting around the room to turn the wall sconces down and dim the light while Sunny spoke in glowing terms of the performance they were about to witness. A small hand crept into Jake's, and he glanced down to see Teddy sitting beside him.

"What are you doing still up?" Jake asked.

"Sunny said I could stay for one song," she replied, "then I gots to go on over to Miss Ginny's and sleep in her office 'til it's time to go home. Isn't Sunny bee-you-tiful tonight, Ranger Jake?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a resigned sigh. "Beautiful."

"Did you tell her how pretty she is?" Teddy asked.

"No," he conceded.

"Why not? We women like to hear how pretty we are. Why, even that sissy Chester Lassiter had to admit I looked pretty this afternoon, and some of the other boys did, too. They had to go over to the schoolhouse and stay with the older girls, so's their mommies could come hear Miss Grace sing. But I got to stay for a little while, 'cause Sunny said I worked hard."

When Jake didn't respond, his eyes glued to the vision in watered blue silk still speaking at the head of the room, Teddy kicked him beneath the table. Hard.

"You know, Ranger Jake," she said slyly when he glanced at her with a frown and reached under the table to rub his leg. "Me and Sunny has had lots of girl talks of an evenin'. She says some men just don't listen to their hearts like women does. 'Course women don't neither, sometimes, I guess. And Sunny says a person's gotta make up a person's own mind. Can't nobody make it up for them."

"And what's that supposed to mean, little one?" Jake asked, willing to forgive her kicking him when she appeared so concentrated on having such an important discussion with him.

"Well, we was talking 'bout Miss Cassie and Mr. Duckie." Teddy peeked through her lashes at him, her blue eyes solemn. "He told me I could call him that 'stead of Charlie," she said. "And I was tellin' Sunny how sad it was that Miss Cassie and Mr. Duckie spent all them years by themselves, when they could've been together."

"I think there was a little more to it than that," Jake admonished.

"Yeah, I s'pose, 'specially since that's what Sunny said, too. But I was thinkin' on it, and seems to me, bein' grownup don't always mean you also got smart along the way." She sighed, brushing one pigtail back behind her shoulder. "Guess I don't know which would be worse. Pa and my ma got married, then found out they was happier apart, I guess, so she left. Maybe that's why some folks are scared of getting married. They figure it won't work out, so they won't take the chance."

"There are a lot of good marriages," Jake told her. "Look at Fred and Ruth."

"That's what I mean." Teddy shook her head, pigtails bobbing on her back. "I don't understand why folks don't see all the good ones, too, and try at least. Like Sunny says, listen to their heart, 'stead of tryin' to figure out love in their heads."

The curtains opened with a flourish, and Sunny glided toward the table. Every other eye in the room centered on Grace Adams, but Jake couldn't tear his gaze from Sunny. He rose and held her chair, settling back beside her as soon as she was seated. The table was crowded, and her full skirt brushed his thigh, although she kept her legs from touching his.

She patted her gloved hands together, welcoming Grace Adams to her performance and gazing at the singer, her profile to him. The dim wall sconce behind them left her face in shadow, but he didn't need the illumination. Her every feature was burned into his memory, and a hollow, empty feeling settled into his stomach when he looked into the future he planned for himself.

Sunny nudged him in the ribs and he jumped.

"Watch the performance," she said never once looking at him. "This is the only chance you'll get to hear her, since she's leaving on the afternoon stage tomorrow. We were very lucky to get her for even this one time."

Jake focused on Grace Adams. The sconces on the wall behind the curtain hadn't been dimmed, and the singer stood outlined in bright light, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes closed as she sang. Her hair, though blond, wasn't nearly as bright as Sunny's. She was also at least three inches taller than Sunny, who fit just right beneath his chin if he bent his head down a little. Grace was probably also twenty pounds heavier than Sunny, part of that weight in her larger bosom and hips. Sunny likely weighed a good ninety pounds soaking wet, but you didn't really notice how tiny she was when she got on a tear about something.

He snorted beneath his breath in disgust when he realized he was comparing the singer to the woman beside him. And despite her lilliputian stature, Sunny was every bit a woman. Gazing around, he saw the men in the room ogling Grace Adams in her low-cut gown, which barely covered her bosom when she took a deep breath and lifted her head to fill the room with her song. Hell, he guessed she had a nice enough voice, although he hadn't been paying a bit of attention to the words in her song.

The song ended, and after the applause and fingers-between-the-teeth whistles from the cowboys died down, Grace slowly began a sweet, haunting ballad. Feeling a nudge on his other side, Jake saw Teddy leaning against him, her head slowly dropping, then jerking back up. The little girl yawned widely, and he bent his head to whisper to Sunny.

"Teddy's almost asleep in her chair. I'll carry her on over to Ginny's office."

"Oh." Sunny shifted as though to rise. "You don't have to. You'll miss part of the performance."

Jake stayed her with a hand on her arm. "I don't mind. You go ahead and enjoy yourself."

"If you're sure. She does have a beautiful voice, doesn't she?"

"Beautiful," Jake said, knowing damned well he wasn't talking about Grace's voice. He turned and picked up Teddy, who snuggled into his arms. Rising, he carried her along the wall toward the front door, making less of a stir that way than he would if he'd carried her through the crowd to the connecting door to the saloon. In the doorway he turned, staring back at Sunny. Grace Adam's voice broke on a note, and he glanced over to see her watching him. But the singer took a breath and carried on with only that slight pause.

Not wanting to further disturb the performance, he walked out onto the boardwalk and over to the batwing doors on Ginny's saloon. A man he recognized as Grace's manager was the sole occupant in the saloon, except for Perry, who was polishing the bar surface.

"There's blankets already on the sofa in Ginny's office," Perry said when he caught sight of Jake. "Just put her down in there and leave the door open. I'll check on her off and on."

Jake nodded and carried the sleeping child to the waiting bed. She didn't wake when he laid her down and pulled a blanket over her. Straightening, he jammed his fingers in his back pockets and stared down at her. She had blossomed under Sunny's care, gaining some weight and getting roses in her cheeks.

He had received a telegraph in response to his inquiry to Kansas City, but it only said the officials there would look into the matter. He'd left the still-sealed letters alone, reluctant to read words obviously meant for only Teddy. If the investigation in Kansas City proved fruitless, he would give the letters to Sunny and allow her decide when it would be appropriate to let Teddy have them.

He strolled out into the saloon, leaving the office door open as Perry had said. Grace Adam's manager gestured with his beer glass.

"Join me, Ranger?"

"Yeah, I think I will," Jake said. "Pour me a beer, will you, Perry?"

The bartender filled a glass, and Jake took it from him. Before he walked over to the table, however, he opened the connecting door to the Center a crack. If anyone got out of hand over there, he would hear the noise.

Grace's manager leaned back in his chair as Jake approached. He was only a little taller than the singer, and Jake recalled just his first name — Jud something. His round bowler hat lay on the table, and he swept it to one side as Jake sat down.

"Cute kid you had there, Ranger," Jud said. "She yours?"

"I'm not married," Jake told him.

"Don't mean you don't have any kids," Jud said with a snicker, holding up a hand in defense when Jake started to push his chair back and rise. "Whoa, I apologize. And I can't even blame the beer for that stupid remark, because this is my first one. I'll watch my mouth, if you'll stay and finish your beer, Ranger. I've heard the performance going on over there so many times I could sing every word right along with her. She does have a wonderful voice, doesn't she?"

Jake settled back in the chair, taking a swallow of his beer and wiping at the foam on his mouth. "Yeah, it's a nice voice. She's had some good training."

"She's come a long way since I found her in that dive in St. Joe, Missouri, three years ago," Jud mused. "Gotten a lot more self-confidence, too, and an independent streak. Hell, I didn't want to stop off here in Liberty Flats on our way to Denver, but she was bound and be damned she was gonna do it. Said she was tired of only singing at the highfalutin places and wanted to entertain the common people just like her one more time."

"Well, the town's enjoying it," Jake said.

Jud downed the remainder of his beer and lifted his glass toward Perry. "Two more over here," he called.

When he belatedly looked to Jake for his agreement, Jake nodded acquiescence. Sitting here drinking beer was better than sitting over there beside Sunny Fannin and knowing she would never be his. A woman didn't marry a friend.

He choked on a swallow of beer, wondering which word in his thoughts had caused that suffocated feeling — marry or friend!

"Jocie was quite taken with that little girl you carried in with you a minute ago," Jud said as Perry put two more beers on the table and collected the empty glasses.

"Jocie?"

"Oh, that's her first name, but she uses Grace Adams in her performing life. It's her middle name, along with her maiden name."

"She's been married, then."

"Not to me," Jud denied. "Jocie and I are strictly business partners, and we keep separate rooms in our travels. I don't have a thing against marriage, but those sparks just aren't there between Jocie and me. If I ever give up my freedom, it's gonna be for a woman who's just as beautiful to me when I wake up beside her in the morning as she is when I got to bed with her at night. Jocie, now, she knows how to cover up the problem areas with paint, but she won't be able to keep doing that for too many more years."

He shook his head and smiled. "And it takes her at least an hour every morning to do her coverup work, then about as long again before she performs. She's not that old — only twenty-eight — but she must have had a pretty rough life before I met her."

Whoops, whistles and hollering erupted in the next building as Grace finished another song, and Jud waved Jake back into his seat when he started to check on the commotion.

"Jocie's got another hour left," Jud said, "and she can handle the crowd. If they get out of line, she'll just stand there and not sing a note until they quiet down again."

The noise abated, and Jake reached for his beer.

"Now," Jud went on, "that pretty lady you've got your eye on will age well. She's got the bone structure and...."

"I'm not eyeing anyone," Jake interrupted.

"Could have fooled me." Jud shrugged and swallowed half his beer in the resulting silence. "Well," he said at last. "That makes me wish we'd planned a little longer stay in this town. Is Miss Fannin a permanent resident here? I might be able to shuffle Jocie's schedule around and get back through here soon."

Jake's hand tightened around the beer glass, and he had to make a conscious effort to loosen his grip before the glass shattered in his hand. "She lives here for now," he said abruptly.

"I understand," Jud said, making it clear to Jake that he really didn't as he continued, "Soon as someone's lucky enough to get a ring on her finger, she'll go off with her man. Her lucky, lucky man."

The beer soured in Jake's belly, and he pushed his glass away. "I need to go check the town. With everyone at the performance, someone might think now is a good time to pull something."

He rose, and Jud stuck out his hand. "Nice talking to you, Ranger."

Jake stared at the other man's hand for a second, then gripped it briefly and strode off. Jud's palm had been soft, not callused like his own hand. It wouldn't abrade Sunny's delicate skin if he touched her, and the other man wouldn't make the mistake of letting Sunny think he only wanted her friendship if he paid court to her.

Hell, if he paid court to her! He was probably already sitting in there over his beer rearranging Grace Adams' schedule in his mind in order to get back to Liberty Flats at the earliest opportunity. Ignoring the walkway steps, Jake jumped down into the street, then swiveled and aimed a kick at the nearest hitching rail post. A stab of pain shot through his foot, and he bent forward, squaring back up after a second and flexing the toes inside his right boot carefully. A limp marring his usual saunter, he hobbled toward Saul Cravens' saloon. That was the likeliest place in town for him to find trouble needing taken care of.

Maybe a good fight would work the restlessness and longing out of his system.

 

 

***