Anora's Pride Page 9

  “Anora?”

  “Yes, Jesse?”

  She stood alongside him, all big-eyed and moist pink lips. Close enough to touch. And, Lord, he wanted to touch her. He balled his hands into fists at his side to help resist the impulse as he cocked her his famous devil-may-care grin. “I kind of miss your dungarees.”

  “Oh, you.” She made to give his arm a playful swat when, watching her face, he saw something shift. Something powerful. Seconds later she clutched his forearm with a strength he hadn't thought her capable of. ‘'Jesse. There's something I need to tell you.”

  Jesse caught his breath. Behind him he could hear the clock on the wall tick off the seconds as he watched Anora worry her bottom lip. Before she could speak the door flew open, catching him on the shoulder and knocking Anora's hand from his arm.

  “Hey, Marshal.” Jake from the telegraph office waved a paper aloft. “Good news. Strike's over. Come tomorrow, old iron Bessie'll be stopping at the station, right on schedule.”

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  * * *

  Chapter 9

  All day long, as folks came and went from the store, it seemed all anyone could talk about was the strike being over. Anora, for her part, was relieved. Maybe now things would get back to normal around here. Normal, like she'd get back to work. Between her and Ben, they'd save enough for his operation sooner than a body could shake a stick.

  Best of all, she'd be too busy to notice this powerful urge to spend time around Jesse Quantrill. Just to see him. His charm-the-knees-off-the-bees smile. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, then darkened with slow, molasses-melting want when his gaze met hers.

  Seeing him wasn't enough anymore. These days she had the most unsettling urge to reach out, to touch him. Like back in his office. Lord a'mighty, she'd been on the brink of blurting out her newest fears. That Ben was riding with Rosco's gang. That the money her brother was suddenly throwing around had come from pulling holdups.

  She wasn't proud of her actions, but after he went out yesterday she'd snooped through Ben's things in the barn. To her dismay she'd found a lady's ring with some kind of shiny blue stone and a gold locket in the shape of a heart. Where else would Ben have gotten these things, if not from thieving?

  Lucky for her, Jake had interrupted her with Jesse. She had swallowed her concerns and, during the pandemonium that broke out up and down the street as news spread of the end of the strike, she'd been able to melt away, to lose herself in the bustle of Lettie and Sam's store. She frowned slightly as she concentrated on standing the books side by side, A to Z, the way Penny had shown her.

  “Anora? Anora! Did you hear?” Penny bounded into the store and skidded to a stop alongside her.

  “That the strike's over? Nobody's been talking about anything else all day.”

  “Not the strike. That's old news. The dance.”

  “What dance?” Her friend was acting mighty strange, hopping from foot to foot and wringing her hands with excitement.

  “Tonight. Down on Station Street. They're already building a wooden dance floor raised up off the street. Oh, you simply must come. Everybody'll be there. Nothing like an excuse for a party.”

  Anora picked up another book. “I don't feel much in the mood for partying right now. I believe I—”

  “Oh, but you have to come. Doesn't she, Lettie?” Penny turned to Lettie and, from the way the two women were eyeballing her, as if she were some kind of specimen under glass in one of those museums back east, Anora knew she wouldn't get a moment's peace until she agreed.

  “I'll have to make sure it's okay with Ben first.” She sighed inwardly at the way her two friends exchanged looks. Too late to wish she'd never started this charade. Ben as her brother was one thing. A gal couldn't rightly help who she was kin to. But pretending Ben was her husband was beginning to wear right thin with her.

  For one mad, impulsive moment she considered dropping the truth into the conversation, casual-like. Oh, by the way, seems everyone has a slightly wrong impression. Ben and me, we aren't married. Lord, no, brother and sister is all.

  Wouldn't that cause a stir!

  Her mother had lectured her and Ben long and loud on the evils of deceit. How a body got trapped into a lie, telling more and more falsehoods trying to defend the first lie. And hadn't Ma been right? She didn't see any way out from under this whopper.

  “There. It's settled. You're coming.” Penny clapped her hands together and sent Lettie another look, this one so plumb full of meaning Anora started to feel left out.

  “What is it?” she asked, shifting her gaze from one woman to the other. “Come on. Out with it. What's the big secret?”

  “Out back.” Lettie took Anora's arm and shepherded her through the crowded storefront to the back storeroom.

  “What about the customers?”

  “Most of them's more interested in jawing than buying,” Lettie said. “ ‘Sides, Sam can handle things for a couple minutes.”

  The storeroom was even more cluttered than the front of the store, but Lettie didn't let up her pace as she propelled Anora, Penny at their heels, through a maze of barrels, sacks, tools, and tin cans of every size. When Lettie stopped abruptly, Anora plowed right into her.

  “Ta da!” Lettie waved an arm toward the far wall where, draped on its very own wood hanger, floated a delicate, harvest-colored, muslin gown. Cinnamon-colored ribbons edged the bodice and dangled from puffy gathers halfway down each sleeve.

  “What? I don't—” Lettie and Penny grinned at her like two cats in the cream pail.

  Lettie lifted the gown down and held it against Anora. “Perfect,” she told Penny. “Didn't I tell you those colors were made for Anora?”

  Anora fondled the soft folds of the fabric. Breathed deeply the new-fabric smell. She'd never owned a brand new gown, had always worn somebody's leavings or hand-me-downs. Reluctantly she released the garment.

  “I can't possibly accept it,” she said. “Something so fine.”

  “What?” Lettie stiffened as if she'd just told her the moon was made of green cheese.. “I never heard such nonsense.”

  “I can't pay for it. And I can't accept your charity.”

  “Land sakes, girl. Since when does a body go calling a gift charity? That's a downright insult...it is.”

  “But—”

  “Anora, just listen,” Penny said. “The yard goods came in with a big flaw, and Lettie had to send them back.”

  “ ‘Cept one little piece that went missing,” Lettie said with a shrug. “Can't rightly say how that happened.”

  “You know I love to sew,” Penny continued. “Gives me something to do in the evenings. I had fun. We both did. Planning the surprise. So don't take that away from us. Please.”

  Anora's heart swelled full to the point of bursting, and she feared she was about to embarrass herself by busting out in tears. Stretching out her arms, she drew her two friends close. “I don't deserve friends like you.”

  “No one does,” Lettie said briskly, “but you got us anyway. Now we expect to see you at the party tonight, dancing yourself silly in this new frock. Do I make myself clear?”

  “As mud,” Anora said, with a shaky grin.

  “Good. Now, I best get back out there before that husband of mine gives away the store,” Lettie muttered. Raising her voice, she called, “Just hold your horses, man. I'm coming.”

  As Penny watched Lettie depart she heaved a heartfelt sigh. “Don't you wish you had what they have together? Oh.” She flushed. “I didn't mean—”

  Anora patted her friend's arm; at the same time she resisted the urge to tell her the truth. “It's all right, Penny. Ben and I have a different kind of...arrangement than Sam and Lettie.”

  Penny nodded, obviously eager to change the subject. “You like the dress?”

  “I think it's the most beautiful gown I've ever seen.”

  “So try it on. Let's make sure it fits.”

  “Right here? Right now?”

>   “Why not?”

  “Why not, indeed?”

  A short distance west of town, Jesse rode alongside his two deputies, Eddy and Charlie, their mounts cutting a close line next to the railway tracks.

  “You sound pretty sure about this, Marshal.” Old Charlie removed his hat and scratched his grizzled head.

  “I am,” Jesse said shortly.

  “How come you're so sure?” Eddy asked. No mistaking the challenge in his voice.

  Jesse didn't bother answering. Too difficult to explain to a lummox like Eddy the value of gut instinct, coupled with experience. Jesse couldn't say how he knew for certain Rosco and his gang would try to sabotage the rail lines. He just knew. The same way he knew Rosco had been playing close to his chest since Jesse's arrival, even going so far as to move his base of operations.

  Whatever cat-and-mouse game Rosco had taken to playing wouldn't last. And it wouldn't be long now before the outlaw became once more highly visible in Boulder Springs, flaunting his misdeeds.

  He was the type who couldn't resist a little showmanship. Jesse wasn't worried. He'd tangled with far more cunning minds than Rosco's. And he'd never been bested yet.

  Ricki always said it was on account of him having a natural-born outlaw's mind; lucky for folks he chose to wear a star. To use his cunning to uphold the law instead of breaking it, in the way of his pa and his two brothers. He'd talk to Ricki again tonight.

  “I swear, Jess. Sit down before you wear a hole in my carpet.”

  “Sorry. I didn't realize I was pacing.” Jesse turned from the window to face Ricki. She'd lit a thin brown cigar, and the pungent smell of tobacco smoke streamed toward him as she exhaled. Behind him, through the open window, the sounds of music and laughter drifted over from Station Street.

  “Looks like the whole damn town turned out for the dance tonight.”

  “Near ‘bouts,” Ricki said. “We both know why I'm not down there. What's your excuse?”

  Jesse raked a hand through his already rumpled hair. “I don't belong there any more than you do.”

  “Balderdash!” Ricki shot back at him. “If you really believed that, you wouldn't be so restless. You'd be stripped down and having it on with me or one of the girls.” Her eyes moved suggestively down the length of his body. “Ain't healthy for a man like you to be going without.”

  Jesse laughed humorlessly. “Save it for the paying customers, Ricki. I've gone without before. I know it won't kill me.”

  “Might kill you, though, to admit you're sweet on some little town gal. Gal who happens to be already spoken for.”

  Jesse kept his features impassive. “You mean Anora King. I feel sorry for her's all. She kind of reminds me a little bit of Rose.”

  “Another delicate flower in need of your protecting?”

  “Don't remind me about that.” He turned his back on Ricki and the insipid pink room. It had been a mistake to come here tonight. He'd known that the second he set foot inside Ricki's salon. But it had been impossible to remain in the boardinghouse with so much merrymaking going on almost right outside his window.

  Behind him he heard Ricki approach. Heard the whisper of air against her gossamer sheer gown, seconds before he felt her arms snake around his waist. She laid her cheek against his back.

  “You trying to seduce me, Ricki?”

  “You know I'm not. I'm trying to be a friend. Got a funny feeling you could use one about now.”

  “I have to go.” Gently he disentangled himself from her arms.

  “That clinches it,” Ricki said, picking up her cigar from the ashtray and taking another puff. “Anytime a body probes a little too close to the bone, you bolt. Predictable as hell, you are, Quantrill.”

  “I'll try and make a point of remembering that.”

  Jesse picked up his hat from the table near the door and jammed it on his head. Downstairs, the front parlor was unusually silent, but the second he set foot outside the door, sounds of the celebration danced clearly in the still-warm nighttime air. Without any prompting from Jesse, Sully made his way to Station Street.

  The entire street was damn near unrecognizable. On the platform outside the station, half a dozen citizens of Boulder Springs had formed a musical group, and what they lacked in skill they more than made up for in enthusiasm. At one end of the makeshift dance hall, two kegs of beer were a magnet for the celebrators, and Jesse felt certain the harder stuff was being tapped off somewhere nearby.

  He stood in the shadowed overhang of the station house, hands in his pockets, eyes on the dancers. A wood platform stretched from one side of the street to the other for about thirty feet, with steps at one end. The edges of the temporary dance floor were strung with bobbing lanterns, while up and down the street dozens more lanterns hung from gutters and makeshift posts, keeping the night at bay and rendering the street almost as bright as the noontime sun. The sidelines were ringed with makeshift benches, where mams and grams held sleeping babies while school-age youngsters took part in their own version of the dance. Someone had scattered a bundle of straw to help keep down the dust.

  Jesse's gaze returned to the temporary dance floor, where a bevy of partners dipped, twirled, stomped, and spun. He told himself he was merely watching, not seeking out anyone in particular. Deep down he knew he was watching for the light to hit a cascade of cinnamon-colored curls. Several minutes marched by without him spotting Anora among those present, yet his instincts told him she was out there someplace.

  Abruptly his attention shifted and he straightened as he made out the furtive movements of a shadowy figure slinking away from around back of the musicians. He'd just started after the first man to go have a look-see when he felt a hand lock around his elbow. He had his gun out of his holster before he recognized the stumbling gait of Charlie, his deputy.

  “What's the matter with you?” Jesse said.

  “Sorry, Marshal. I seen Ben King sneak off and thought I'd follow him.”

  “You do that,” Jesse said, holstering his gun. “Just don't go sneaking up on him like you did me. He's likely to blow your head off. Don't let him catch sight of you. Just watch where he goes.”

  “He's been drinking hard these past hours,” Charlie said cheerfully. “Like as not the entire cavalry could trail him and he wouldn't notice.”

  Jesse watched King mount his swaybacked gray and ride in the opposite direction from Three Boulders. A short time later he saw Charlie's shadowy form in pursuit. Behind him the revelry and partying continued. Curious as he was about Ben King's destination, Jesse couldn't help but think how his departure meant Anora was here on her own.

  “How come I haven't seen you and Ben out on the dance floor yet?” Penny asked breathlessly, fanning herself with her hand as the musicians took a well- deserved break.

  “Ben doesn't dance,” Anora said. “You know. His leg.”

  “What about you? There's loads of single fellas who'd dearly love to give you a twirl. All they need is an encouraging smile.” As she spoke Penny ladled herself a glass of punch.

  “Wouldn't seem right.” Anora deliberately changed the subject. “Who's that long, tall drink of water I noticed monopolizing you most of the evening?”

  Penny colored slightly. “Beau Brown. Kind of cute, isn't he? He's a couple of years younger than me.”

  “Can't rightly say as how that appears to be bothering him any.”

  “Me either.” When Penny giggled it was impossible for Anora not to join in. She felt as young and carefree as a schoolgirl. And the good Lord knew she'd not felt that way before. Earlier tonight she'd been walking on eggs, aware of Ben hanging around and imbibing freely from the cask of whiskey. She'd been secretly relieved to see him mount up and leave.

  “What'd Ben say about your new dress?” Penny asked.

  Anora smoothed the gathered skirt of the garment in question. She knew she looked her best and, darn it all, she wished there were someone around to acknowledge it. She envied Penny the flattering attentions of her young
man. No one had ever made Anora feel attractive and feminine and special.

  “Didn't even notice, did he?”

  “Doesn't mean he didn't like it. He never notices what I wear.”

  Penny gave her a pitying look. “Well, there's plenty other fellas here giving you more than a casual notice, if you get what I mean. Come on. It's high time you had yourself some fun.” Penny took her arm and started toward the dance floor just as the musicians picked up their instruments.

  Anora planted her feet firmly, but Penny was bigger and stronger, and the straw underfoot was slippery. What a sight they must look, Anora thought, Penny plowing ahead, dragging a plainly reluctant Anora behind her.

  “Evening, ladies.” Anora froze, and Penny with her, as the marshal stepped toward them from the shadows. Jesse included them both in his greeting, but to Anora it felt as if he had eyes for her alone. The approving way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. More than beautiful. Desirable. She heard Penny open her mouth and draw in a breath and knew that if her friend uttered even one word the spell would be ruined. She gave Penny a subtle kick on the shin. Then another. Penny's mouth closed with a snap. Her friend gazed from Anora to Jesse then back to Anora. With a tiny, smug smile she turned and melted in the direction of the music and lights.

  “I owe you a debt of thanks.” Anora clasped and unclasped her hands in front of her and wished she had a fan or something, anything, to hold on to. “I do believe that's the second time you've saved me from being trampled.”

  “How so?” One corner of his mouth quirked upward in amusement. His gaze was riveted on hers. Anora felt certain there must be music being played, but its melody had faded insignificantly into the background.

  “She had some buck she was fixing to have swing me about on the dance floor.”

  “Wouldn't your husband object?”