Camille waited by the window, watching McKinnon cross the street. When he disappeared into his store, she left her room, locking the door behind her. She tucked the key into her purse and went down the back stairs, slipping out the door into the empty alley. After walking along the alley for a couple of blocks, she turned up Pine Street toward Nate and Bonnie’s house. Though she had eaten breakfast with her friend, she was anxious to talk to her about the newspaper.
Bonnie was sweeping off the front porch when she arrived. “That didn’t take long. Of course, there isn’t a lot to see in Willow Grove.”
“I haven’t looked around much. Nate didn’t think I should go about by myself after some rowdy cowboys rode in trying to shoot up the town.” Camille walked up the steps, shaking her head. “As if I haven’t dealt with obnoxious men all my life.”
“Still carry that Derringer in your purse?”
Camille grinned, opened the screen door and went into the parlor. “Yes, though I had to get a new purse. Shot a hole in the last one.”
“You didn’t!” Bonnie followed her inside, carrying the broom into the kitchen, setting it beside the back door. “Did you shoot someone?”
“No, I missed on purpose. But it scared him off.” She laid her purse on the kitchen table and sat down. “That’s the only time I’ve ever had to pull the trigger. I wouldn’t have missed with the second shot.”
“I doubt if you’ll ever need it here. Despite what Nate said, most of the men are polite. And if one of them isn’t, half a dozen others will come to your rescue quicker than a hot iron can scorch a cotton dress. Do you want some coffee?”
“No, thanks. I had some lemonade with Nate.”
Bonnie poured herself a cup of coffee and joined her at the table. “I’m surprised Nate was concerned about it. He’s never told me not to go downtown on Saturday. Of course, I’m not a young beauty like you.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re only ten years older than me and still beautiful. Certainly not a prune-faced matron.”
“Well, I hope not.” Bonnie laughed and stirred a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “Though I suppose we have a few in town.”
“At least three according to Ty McKinnon. He agreed with Nate that I needed an escort, insisted on it, in fact. When I pointed out the ladies on the street, that’s what he called them.”
“Ty McKinnon?” Bonnie perked up. “Was he in the saloon?”
“He stormed in when he saw me through the window.” She traced a flower on the tablecloth with her fingertip. “I’m sure he thought I was going to do something other than play cards.”
“Nate doesn’t have any cubicles in the back or an upstairs for lewd women, and Ty knows it. I can’t believe he jumped to that conclusion.”
“He looked chagrined when he realized I was only a gambler. Though he didn’t like that much, either.”
Speculation gleamed in her friend’s eyes. “It sounds to me as if our handsome mayor has taken a liking to you. Did he insist on being your escort?”
“Yes. Though I refused the tour of the town that he offered. I only let him walk me back to the hotel, where he also insisted on going to the door of my room. No doubt that caused all sorts of speculation with the gentlemen downstairs. But I couldn’t dissuade him. He’s a very stubborn man,” she said irritably.
“And you’re attracted to him.”
“I shouldn’t be. He says he wants to be my friend, and I expect he would be a good one. But when he held me, I felt as if I’d been standing too close to a lightning rod in a thunderstorm.”
“Wait a minute. When he held you? I think you left out a big part of your story.”
“When the cowboys started shooting at the store signs, McKinnon pushed me down beside the bar and knelt down, too, sheltering me. I guess it was natural for him to put his arms around me.” She shook her head ruefully. “And just as natural for me duck my head against his chest and hide behind him like some ninny.”
Bonnie sighed. “How romantic.”
Camille shook her head. “I didn’t come here for romance.”
“But that’s exactly what you need. Surely you don’t want to spend the rest of your life playing cards in smoke-filled saloons with drunken men.”
“They don’t play as well when they’re drunk. It’s easier to win.”
Her friend ignored her feeble attempt at humor. “Angel, you’re young, beautiful and the most ladylike lady I’ve ever known. You don’t belong in a saloon, but in a home with a family of your own.”
Pushing back her chair, Camille strolled to the back screen door and gazed out at the remnants of the vegetable garden. Given her friend’s green thumb, she had no doubt that the garden once had been beautiful and thriving. Now the few remaining plants were old and withered, soon to be uprooted and replaced with new ones in the spring.
How long would she still draw men to her gaming table? Another year? Five? Perhaps ten if she was lucky. Suddenly, the thought of another ten years at her profession filled her with dread and gloom. Be honest with yourself, she chided, silently acknowledging that she had no interest in spending one more evening gambling. The fever had never taken hold of her as it had her father. She could walk away and never miss it.
Camille looked back at her friend. “If I don’t belong in a smoke-filled saloon, why did you and Nate persuade me to come to West Texas? Were you hoping to play matchmaker?”
“Yes.” Bonnie pushed back from the table, walking across the room to join her.
“McKinnon thought so.”
“I’m sure he also knew that you’d have a handful of marriage proposals the first night. Good, hardworking ranchers, many of them quite wealthy, and each one longing for a woman to warm his heart and home.”
“A man so desperate that he would take someone like me for a mate?” Camille couldn’t believe it, not after all the blatant propositions or subtle innuendos that had been thrown her way for years. “A plaything, perhaps, but not a wife.”
“You forget that we have a major shortage of women. Generally, the men here are different than what you’re used to. As long as a person is honest with current dealings, they don’t ask questions about who you are or where you’ve been. No doubt there are plenty of folks here who left a distasteful past.”
“McKinnon said the same thing.” Camille expected that held true for men, but she doubted people had the same standards about women.
“I doubt there is much in his past he’d worry about. Even so, many of the men, such as Ty and his brother, started with nothing and have built empires.”
Amused, Camille asked dryly, “McKinnon has an empire?”
“Well, I suppose that’s an exaggeration but close to it.” Bonnie slipped her arm around Camille’s waist, giving her a loving hug. “I know you well enough to figure you have a nice tidy nest egg put away and that you don’t need to worry about making a living for a while.”
“A long while. I’ve made some good investments. But I’d go crazy with nothing to do.”
“Believe me, dear, a husband and a home will give you plenty to do.”
“I know you mean well.” Camille’s sigh was filled with regret. “But you forget that I loved a man once, and it only brought me heartache. Even if I find someone I can trust—and that is very doubtful—he won’t want me once he learns about Anthony.”
“Don’t tell him.”
“It wouldn’t take him long to figure it out on our wedding night.” She had only been with one man, but that had been enough for people to call her a harlot. And, she thought sadly, she supposed she had been, even though she’d been barely nineteen, suddenly left alone in the world, and terrified by it.
“By then it would be too late. You’d already be married.”
Camille stared at her. “You honestly think I should do that?”
Bonnie shrugged. “Most men sow wild oats before they get married. They shouldn’t be so judgmental toward a woman who’s done the same.”
“I’m not sure living with a man for six months would be considered wild oats.”
“At least you showed commitment.” Bonnie grinned and pushed open the back door. “Let’s go sit out here on the porch.” She took one rocking chair, and Camille took the other. “I love living here where there aren’t so many people. It’s building up, and I expect before long I won’t have a clear view of the hills, so I enjoy them whenever I can. Even then, I don’t think Willow Grove will ever become a big city.”
“But it’s big enough for a newspaper?”
Bonnie glanced at her with a puzzled expression. “Yes, and it’s a good one, too, but I hear Mr. Hill is going to shut it down due to his health.”
“Not if he can find someone to help him. McKinnon thinks I should become Hill’s partner. Then I’d be respectable.”
“He actually said that? So you’d be respectable?”
“No, not really. But that’s what he meant.” Partly, anyway. How could he have guessed that she secretly longed for a different life? She hadn’t even realized what she was looking for until he’d said it. One that gives you peace.
“Angel, I think you should do it.” Bonnie’s voice rose in her excitement. “You’ve always had a way with words and a knack for writing. Your letters are so full of interesting stories that they’re like reading a book or a newspaper.”
“McKinnon said Mr. Hill wants someone to handle the business end of things, but that he might let me try my hand at writing something.” Excitement raced through her. It would be a dream come true if she only dared take the chance.
“Nate won’t care if you don’t work in his saloon. We haven’t told anyone about you. Figured if you changed your mind, it would be better that way. Besides, I’ve been trying to get him to sell it and do something else.”
“Does he have anything in mind?”
“Nothing that he’s mentioned. He says he’s studying on it, but I’m not sure how seriously. I want him to have a business where he doesn’t have to work every day. He does have more help now, so he’s not gone all the time, but I’d love to have him home more.”
“He said he wasn’t working tonight. Are you going to the box supper?”
Bonnie nodded happily. “I finished decorating the box a few days ago. It turned out pretty nice.” Her smile faded. “Oh, dear, I didn’t even think about it being your first evening in town.”
“Don’t worry about it. It seems that I have an engagement as well.”
“Doing what?” said Bonnie, clearly annoyed that she had been inconsiderate.
“I have an invitation to the social.” Camille paused, waiting for Bonnie’s reaction. She could practically see the wheels spinning in her friend’s mind.
Bonnie’s eyes widened, and she leaned toward her, whispering, “Ty?”
“He’s even bringing the supper.”
“Glory be!” Bonnie sat back in her chair and began to rock furiously. “He never takes a woman anywhere. He’s friendly enough once he gets there…charms all the ladies…but it’s a well-known fact that he has not called on a woman since his wife died. But he invited you.” With a bemused smile, she slowed the rocking to a comfortable pace. “The Lord surely does work in mysterious ways.”
At six o’clock, Camille checked her image in the mirror one last time. She had decided to wear a green silk dress, hoping it wasn’t too fancy for Willow Grove. Though there were several ruffles edged in white lace draped across the front of the skirt and meeting at the bustle in back, it wasn’t overly decorated. The high, rounded neckline was sedately modest, even adorned with her mother’s strand of pearls. Touching the necklace, she whispered, “I wish you were here, Mama. I think you would approve of Mr. McKinnon.”
She turned away from the mirror to keep herself from fiddling with her hair. It had taken her an hour to pin it up in soft curls. Now she wished she had just worn a chignon or braided it and pinned it up in a coil. “Stop fussing,” she muttered to herself. “It’s only supper.”
Supper with a man who interested her as none other ever had. The attraction she felt for Ty was completely different than what she had experienced when she was nineteen. Anthony had been smooth and charming, his honeyed words soothing and exciting at the same time. He had filled the emptiness after her father’s death with promises he’d never intended to keep. Even with her, he had been the consummate con man. He bragged that he could talk a preacher out of the Sunday offering, then proceeded to prove it.
Ty McKinnon was also charming and exciting, but he had a protectiveness and a goodness in him that was far more appealing than sweet, flattering words. He seemed to take his faith in God to heart, and if he had been honest with her, he attempted to live by it. He’d said he loved the Lord and tried his best to please Him. She had never met a man who talked like that, much less lived that way.
She had heard about the fear of the Lord, mainly from the fire-and-brimstone corner preacher who had shouted condemnation at her from time to time in New Orleans. She did believe in God, and in those rare moments when she let herself think about it, the thought of facing Him some day frightened her. But her parents hadn’t had much use for God after they’d lost everything during the war. She suspected that they had mostly gone to church in the first place simply because it was expected of them. Certainly neither of them had ever mentioned loving the Lord or doing something because it would please Him.
A firm knock startled her. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Ty stood there, more handsome than ever in his crisp white shirt, black suit and tie. He held his hat in his hands, nervously tapping a couple of fingers against the brim as he glanced around the hall. She noticed a tiny mark on his cheek where he had nicked it with the razor.
“Good evening, Mr. McKinnon,” she said quietly, afraid that if she spoke normally he might bolt.
He looked at her, and his fingers grew still. A soft glow warmed his eyes as his gaze slid over her, then back to her face, lingering there. “Good evening, Miss Dupree,” he said with a smile. “You’re even more lovely than I’d expected.”
“Thank you. You look quite dashing—and nervous.”
He grimaced and rubbed the edge of one ear. “Sorry. I was hoping it didn’t show.”
“Bonnie explained that you haven’t taken a woman anywhere since your wife’s passing. I don’t have to go if this is too difficult for you.”
“Well, ma’am, leavin’ you here would be mighty rude of me.” He frowned, tightening his fingers on the hat brim. “Unless you don’t want to go with me.”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” He paused, squaring his shoulders. “Very much.”
“And that bothers you.”
“I have some conflicting emotions.”
“I do, too. Going to the social makes me as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but I truly would like to spend the evening with you.”
“Good.” He relaxed with a sigh and a sheepish smile. “Now that we have that out of the way, are you ready to leave?”
“Yes. I’ll get my purse and coat.” She didn’t need the wrap now, but she would later after the sun went down.
He waited in the hall and put on his Stetson as she fetched her things.
When she returned to the doorway, she hesitated. “I forgot to ask if I should wear a hat.”
“And hide that pretty hair? Nope. I doubt if very many ladies will wear one, unless they have something new they want to show off.” He stepped aside. “Do you like fried chicken?”
“Who doesn’t? I hope you brought extra napkins.” She pulled the door closed and locked it.
“I did. And biscuits and potato salad. I picked all that up at the restaurant, then added a box of French chocolates.”
“I think I should be the one bidding on the supper.” She looked up at him as they walked down the hall. “It’s very nice of you to go to so much trouble.”
He smiled, offering her his arm as they started down the stairs. “Collecting the food wasn’t a problem, but decorating that hatbox was a new experience. I never realized how difficult it is to wrap something round. I left it over at the store. Didn’t want any of the cowboys following the smell of that chicken.”
Camille laughed. “More likely, you didn’t want them to spot you carrying a fancy box.” When they reached the lobby, she was surprised to see that it and the saloon were almost empty.
Ty glanced around the room. “Most folks are already on their way to the party. Considering some of the ranchers I saw in here earlier, I’m glad I stopped by the bank.”
“Took out that loan, did you?”
He looked down at her and winked. “Decided I didn’t need to. We’ve had a good month.”
When they stepped outside, she released Ty’s arm and picked up her skirt so the hem wouldn’t drag in the dirt. He gently gripped her elbow as they walked down the boardwalk steps and across the street. “Is the supper at the school?”
“No. It’s not big enough. We’re holding it at the K. P. Hall.”
“Knights of Pythias?” It was a fraternal order, organized for benevolent purposes.
“Yes. They recently rented the floor above the furniture store for their hall.” He chuckled quietly. “And pay for it by renting it out to everybody else. But it makes a good place for parties.”
They waited to let a horse and rider trot past. Several couples strolled along the sidewalk toward the K. P. Hall, carrying decorated boxes and baskets. Perhaps a hundred cowboys wandered around downtown, catching up on the latest news, going in and out of the stores, saloons and billiard halls. Others, fresh from a visit to the barber’s, were headed toward the social, along with a handful of well-dressed cattlemen.
Camille noted that many of the men turned to watch as they crossed the street. She caught the raised eyebrows, slight frowns and an occasional grin when their gazes shifted to Ty. Hoping he would not regret his impulsive invitation, she put on a bright smile when he opened the door to his store. “You weren’t exaggerating when you told Joanna it was a very big store.”
Ty laughed, though he seemed a bit tense again. “Largest one this side of Fort Worth. We supply most of the ranches to the west and north of here, as well as the folks here in town.” A hint of amusement softened his expression as they walked past a case of musical instruments. “Carry everything from A to Z.”
Camille stopped to study the case, which contained harmonicas, a guitar, a banjo, a fiddle—and a zither. She glanced around the store, spotted bins of fresh fruit and grinned. “Apples to zithers.”
“Sharp as well as pretty.” His pleased smile warmed her unwise heart. “Our supper is in my office at the back of the store.” He touched the small of her back, gently urging her forward.
They walked past the main counter, where a clerk was pouring coffee beans into the large store grinder. Staring at Camille, he didn’t notice the beans overflowing until a couple bounced off the counter onto the floor. Blushing furiously, he dropped the bag and swept the coffee beans on the counter into a pile with his hand.
Ty stopped, shoving a few that had fallen onto the floor out of the way. “Ed, this is Miss Camille Dupree. Miss Dupree, Ed Bennett.”
“Good evening, Mr. Bennett.”
“Evenin’, ma’am. Welcome to Willow Grove.”
“Thank you.”
“Ed is my right-hand man here at the store. The place would fall apart without him.”
Recovering from his embarrassment, Ed smiled at Camille. “Got him fooled.”
“I doubt that.”
“We’d better pick up the box and head over to the hall,” said Ty. “Don’t want to be late.”
“Might save you some money,” said Ed. “Sure would like to be a fly on the wall at that supper tonight.” Chuckling, the clerk went back to his task. “Yes, sir, goin’ to be an interesting evening.”
“Too bad you have to work,” Ty said dryly.
“Maybe you should give me a bonus for missing all the fun.”
“Not a chance.” Ty nodded toward the back of the store. “Let’s get that chicken before Ed decides to eat it.”
As they reached his office, Ty breathed a quiet sigh. “Good thing there’s a lull in customers at the moment, or we’d never get to the party.” He opened the office door, stepping back so she could go inside. The decorated hatbox sat in the middle of his desk.
“Think it will do?” he asked softly.
“It’s beautiful.” Sure enough, he had used shimmering pink silk to cover the box, then pulled all the edges up in the center of the top and tied them together with a big green bow. Nestled in the ruffle of material and tucked beneath the bow was a white silk camellia. Tenderness swept through her, both at the memory the image evoked and at his thoughtfulness. “It’s almost like the one Mama made when I was a little girl, before folks quit having parties. Before we lost everything.” She looked up to see understanding in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It was worth mangling three pieces of silk just to see your face right now.”
Camille laughed, running her fingers over the silk. “Three?”
“I told you it took me a while to figure out how to do it.”
“Where did you find the flower?”
“Pilfered it from a lady’s hat I found on the shelf.” He picked up the box. “Ready?”
Anticipation and sudden fear made her stomach churn. What if she saw someone who knew her, perhaps a man who had played cards with her? It wasn’t likely, but not impossible. Plenty of people had moved west from San Antonio, even New Orleans. Simply being new in town would cause a stir. Being with Ty would attract even more attention.
Her mother had tried to teach her to be a true Southern lady, but what if she slipped and said or did something improper? Except for the first seven years of her life, she had been raised around saloons and gaming halls. A wave of panic rushed through her. I don’t know how to behave with these people. She glanced up at Ty, aware that her face reflected her trepidation. Please God, don’t let me embarrass him or bring him shame.
A frown creased his brow. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t belong there.”
He set the box down on the desk and took her hand, holding it with gentle firmness. She had come to expect honesty from him, and he didn’t change now. “Folks might not think so next week, depending on what you decide to do. But even if you go to work at Nate’s, I want to be your friend, and I’m honored by your company tonight.”
In that moment, Camille knew she would never again earn her living with a deck of cards.