“You two are the talk of the town.” Bonnie curled her bare feet up on the couch and tucked them beneath her skirt. “I don’t think there’s been this much excitement since Sheriff Starr shot that murderer, Wyman.”
“I’m used to gossip.” Camille propped her elbow on the back of the couch, resting her head against her hand. “Though this isn’t the normal kind.” She looked first at Bonnie, then Nate. “I’m not going to work for you.”
“I figured you might not.” The tenderness of a long friendship softened his eyes. “I don’t really need you there. I’d much rather see you test your wings with something else, whether it be with Ty or taking on the newspaper business.”
“Thanks. I’m going to talk to Mr. Hill at the paper tomorrow. If he isn’t interested in working with me, I guess I’ll twiddle my thumbs for a while.”
“Not if Ty is around, which I think he will be,” said Bonnie. “The man is taken with you.”
“Which isn’t unusual.” Nate took a sip of whiskey. “Most men are.”
“But this is different. Ty isn’t the kind of man she would meet in a saloon.”
Nate’s eyebrows shot up. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”
Bonnie frowned and threw a small pillow at him. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
Camille knew the story well. Wanting a job as a singer, Bonnie had walked into the saloon in New Orleans where Nate was working. He knew the owner would insist on her entertaining the men in other ways, so he hustled her back outside and explained just what would be expected of her there and most other similar places in town. She never did go to work as a singer, but she married Nate six months later.
“Though I wish you would close the place and do something else.” Bonnie toyed with the fringe on another pillow, avoiding her husband’s gaze.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Open a furniture store. Or a lumberyard. We could use more of both.”
“Here it comes.”
“What?” asked Camille, uncomfortable with the sudden tenseness between her dear friends.
“She’ll start pesterin’ me about church. Ever since she got religion, she’s been after me to go to church with her and sell the saloon.”
“I just think you should do something better. Something that helps people.”
“Selling whiskey helps people.” Nate set his glass down hard on the table and stood, heading for the front door. “It helps them forget about nagging wives.” He jerked his hat from the hall tree and jammed it on his head.
“Nate!” Bonnie jumped and ran after him, but he slammed the door. She leaned her forehead against it, tears streaming down her face.
Camille hurried to her side and put her arm around Bonnie’s shoulders. “He’ll be back once he calms down.”
“I know.” Bonnie wiped her eyes with her fingertips and sighed heavily.
Camille urged her back to the sofa. “That wasn’t like the arguments I’ve seen between you two before.” Not that there had been all that many.
“You mean the ones where I shrieked and threw whatever was handy at him?” She slumped down on the sofa. “After I broke that beautiful vase Nate gave me for my thirtieth birthday, I quit throwing things. I try hard not to shriek anymore. He’s right. I have been harping at him about selling the saloon.”
“Because you want him home in the evenings.”
“Yes. And because liquor harms people, not helps them. And the fights! It seems like every week or so, some of them get into fistfights and smash up half the place.” She fished a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose.
“There have even been a couple of gunfights. I’m so afraid that one night Sheriff Starr is going to knock on my door and tell me that Nate’s been shot because some idiot was too drunk to point his pistol at the right person.”
“I thought the men were supposed to check their guns in at the sheriff’s when they came to town.”
“They are, but a lot of them manage to hide a second one. Or else they don’t bother at all if the sheriff is out of town.”
“But Bonnie, all saloons have that problem. Nate has dealt with it for years.” So have I. She hadn’t bothered to keep track of how many times she’d ducked under a table to keep from being hit by a stray bullet.
“I know. That’s what scares me. It’s happened so much that one of these days, he’s bound to be killed.”
“Yet, you wanted me to come work for him?”
Bonnie’s expression grew sheepish. “The men were usually nicer when you were around. Besides, I didn’t think you’d be there more than a week before some rich rancher persuaded you to marry him.”
“Have you told Nate the real reason you want him to quit?”
“No. He’d think I’m featherbrained.”
“He might think you love him and are worried about him.”
“Maybe. But it’s not the only reason. It does bother me for him to be selling beer and whiskey. Ever since I started going to church and reading the Bible and learning how we’re supposed to live, I’ve felt differently about it.” She threw up her hands. “I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels wrong.”
“Could that be because church people frown on it so much?”
“It’s part of it. I’ve thought about it a lot. What they think of him or me isn’t all of it. You know as well as I do the sorry state some men leave in. They go home drunk and beat up their wives. Or get robbed because they’re too drunk to stop it. Or they get to where they can’t live without it.” Fresh tears filled Bonnie’s eyes. “I’m ashamed of Nate and what he does for a living, and I don’t want to be. I love him so much.”
“How does him going to church fit in?”
“I thought if he went with me, he’d realize it was wrong, too.” She wiped her eyes again and grimaced. “But even if he went, it would probably take a lightning bolt to get anything through his thick skull.”
Until they’d moved to Willow Grove, Bonnie hadn’t attended church. She’d never mentioned even being interested in it. “Why did you start going to church?” asked Camille.
“I was lonesome. Here, just about all the women go to church. The girls down in the district don’t, of course. There are a few others who don’t have any use for it. For some, it’s strictly a social thing. That’s what it was for me when I started. Then I bought a Bible so I could follow along when the preacher read the scripture during the service. I started reading it in the evenings when Nate was gone. I had a great big hole inside, an emptiness that nothing I seemed to do could fill.
“Then one night I realized that Jesus loves me. Me. Not just those women at church who went because they had a tender heart for God. He loved me. All of a sudden I didn’t feel so empty, so alone anymore. I can’t explain it very well. I guess it’s something you have to find out for yourself.”
Camille knew all about loneliness, emptiness. Though she certainly hadn’t been as lonely since she met Ty. Could he fill that hollowness in her soul? Or did it take God to do that? “I’d like to go to church with you tomorrow.”
“You would?” Bonnie stared at her.
Camille nodded. “And it’s not just because Ty will be there.”
“But you’ll look for him anyway,” said Bonnie with a smile.
“Of course. Perhaps if Nate sees that I can go to church with you and not become a fanatic overnight, he won’t be so afraid to try it.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“So are you and Nate. I don’t like to see you two at odds.” Camille picked up her purse and the decorations from the supper box. “I’ll see you in the morning. What time?”
“Church starts at eleven. I’ll come by the hotel about fifteen minutes earlier and we can go together. Oh, dear! I’m sure Nate forgot about escorting you back tonight.”
“I’ll be fine. I often walked home alone in New Orleans or San Antonio.”
Bonnie followed her to the door. “I’ll pray for your safety, ask God to send His angels to watch over you.”
“Thanks.” True angels to watch over a false one. It was an interesting thought. Camille gave Bonnie a hug. “Make peace with your husband.”
“I will, as soon as he comes home. You be careful.”
“Always am.”
Even though Camille kept a watchful eye on her surroundings, she felt an unusual peace all the way back downtown. As she turned the corner at Pine Street, she met Sheriff Starr.
“Miss Dupree, did McKinnon abandon you?”
“No, he left me with my friends, Nate and Bonnie Flynn. Nate was supposed to walk me back to the hotel, but he had to go down to the saloon for a while.” She shrugged lightly. “I didn’t want to wait for him.”
“Then I’ll go with you the rest of the way. Some of the boys get a mite wild on occasion.” He walked with her, escorting her past three saloons along the way and numerous men milling about the street.
Without his presence, she very well might have run into trouble. “This morning I heard the shooting. It didn’t take you long to calm things down.”
“That one didn’t know the rules. I expect his amigos didn’t bother to tell him so they could have a little fun at his expense. Happens pretty often when somebody new hires on at one of the ranches, unless the rancher fills him in.”
He stopped in front of the Barton. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
“Good thing there was a little scuffle down at the Dugout. Otherwise I would have been on the other end of town making my regular rounds.”
“I’m grateful you weren’t there or hauling someone off to jail.”
“The two fellows who were about to shoot each other decided they were the best of friends by the time I got there. Reckon they decided they didn’t want to spend the night in the calaboose.” He studied her for a second, then glanced upward at the stars. “Or maybe the Almighty figured you needed some help.” With a slight nod, he touched the brim of his hat. “Good night, ma’am.”
“Good night.”
A few heads turned as she walked across the lobby, but the men merely nodded. No one followed her up to her room. She supposed she had Ty to thank for that.
Closing and locking the door behind her, she set her things on the table and went over to the window. Starr had crossed the street and was strolling toward the other end of town. Had God answered Bonnie’s prayer in the form of a handsome sheriff?
Shaking her head at the thought, she turned away from the window. Why would God care about protecting someone like her?