9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  At the door of the train station, a young girl, not more than thirteen or fourteen, tugged on Burke’s arm. “I’ll give you a whole night for a dollar.”

  He shook his head. Lexie stepped inside, but Burke held back. He dug the roll of bills out of his pocket. “Take this money, little one, and buy yourself some clothes and a place to live.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir!” She hugged the money to her breast. “Mama and my little brothers thank you, too!” She twirled around, her skirts flapping on Burke’s legs as the girl ran for the stables.

  Lexie couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. “Oh, my,” she gasped. “That had to have been four or five hundred dollars!”

  “Nine hundred. It should buy a nice little house and give the family enough to live on for a while. Might keep her out of the business for a few years.”

  With a gulp, Lexie stared at the girl, now hugging an older woman and four smaller children. Not that Lexie begrudged the girl and her family good fortune, it was just that Burke had given all his money away. All of it.

  “So what are we going to do for money now?”

  He shrugged. “You have plenty.”

  The next bit of news, she didn’t relish telling him. But he needed to know. “I sent most of it to the mine for operating expenses. I only have fifty-four dollars left.” She waited for him to explode.

  The explosion never came—only another shrug. “That’s plenty to get us on the train. There’s more money to be had.”

  Lexie couldn’t believe this man and his cavalier attitude toward money. Her family, while in the upper circles of society in DC, had pinched pennies behind the scenes to keep up appearances. And in Colorado, she and Helen had scrimped just to buy groceries and workaday clothing.

  Even the wealthy people she knew would never have given that girl such a significant sum. Burke O’Shaughnessy was a puzzlement.

  * * *

  Burke seated Lexie on the bench near the window, then he stood in the ticket line. With at least a dozen men in front of him, he had plenty of time to take a look at the fishing prospects. Now that he was broke, a nice game of three-card monte was just the ticket. But he needed his capper, Charity, to do that, and he’d left her in Denver.

  At some point, he wanted to train Lexie to be a capper. That point hadn’t come yet, though. She was too green and too squeamish about money to be willing to take money others were willing to give. He thought she was coming around, but she still needed time.

  No matter, he could always scare up a game of stud. Or maybe euchre. With vingt-et-un, he ran too high of a risk of bumping into a card counter. Like Lexie.

  He glanced her way. She sat stiff-backed with her hands folded primly on her lap. No one would ever guess that she’d been in a high-stakes card game last night. She looked the perfect lady.

  Hell, she was a perfect lady and all too tempting. Perfect ladies shouldn’t have such full, kissable lips. When he’d decided to keep her around, he never realized that he would be the one who’d end up having sleepless nights with visions of a dark-haired society lady seducing him.

  He watched as a man and a woman engaged her in conversation. The hairs on the back of Burke’s neck prickled. He knew that man. Dayton Wardell, a slime ball if there ever was one. And the woman was Lexie’s housekeeper, the one who’d bashed Burke in the head when he first met Lexie.

  What were they doing together, and why were they talking to Lexie? Something smelled like three-day-old skunk.

  Meanwhile, the man in front of Burke left the ticket window and Burke stepped up. “Two fares, one way, to Antonito.”

  “That’ll be ten dollars, please.”

  Burke didn’t have ten dollars. “Just a moment.” He strode to Lexie. Wardell and the housekeeper bade their good-byes before he got to her. “I need ten bucks.”

  “Hmph. You gave all your money away.” She took a ten from her reticule. “But then, this is really your money, anyway.”

  “What’s your housekeeper doing here?”

  “Hadn’t you better pay the clerk?”

  He took the money and purchased the tickets. When he returned, he sat beside her. “Why isn’t your housekeeper taking care of your sister?”

  “That was a bit perturbing. Helen isn’t used to caring for herself. Velma said a lady in Silverton is filling in for her while she goes to her grandmother’s funeral.” She took a ledger book out of her bag and recorded the ten dollars. He hadn’t realized she’d replaced her original ledger book. But he noticed she’d recorded his name in it, too, with a big fat zero alongside. That would change once he boarded the train. He vowed to make sure his side had more money recorded than her side from now on.

  “Some mourning clothes,” Burke commented, recalling Velma’s cerise traveling suit.

  Lexie nodded as she stashed the ledger back in her bag. “Yes, but she said it was her best outfit. When someone dies, you don’t have time to shop for mourning clothes right away. I’m sure she’ll buy an appropriate wardrobe when she gets to Denver.”

  Denver. Once a month, the Golden Antler Gentleman’s Club held a high-stakes game, which was probably where Patrick had gone. Burke found the unlikely couple’s destination all too convenient. Wardell couldn’t be trusted, and if the Campbells’ housekeeper was as chummy with him as she looked, she couldn’t be trusted, either.

  “What does Wardell want of you?”

  “Want?” Lexie waved her hand in dismissal. “He doesn’t want anything, but I did agree to sell our half of the mine to him a while back. For the right price, of course.” She worried her lower lip. “Oh, he did ask if I knew where Patrick went. Naturally I couldn’t tell him since I don’t know myself, but I did wonder why Mr. Wardell would be interested.”

  Burke wondered the same thing himself. Could Wardell be tracking Patrick? But Burke remembered that half of the mine was owned by a silent partner, and with Patrick hanging around Silverton—not a likely watering hole for him—Burke wondered if maybe his little brother was that silent partner. Why else would Wardell be interested in him?

  “Of course, I won’t sign any papers until the money is in my hand, even though Helen’s been anxious to return to Washington.”

  Although Burke wanted to question her more about Wardell, he decided to go with the change of subject so he wouldn’t alert her to the possibility of trouble. “So once you convince my brother to marry her, you’re taking them back East?”

  “No, I’m taking my sister. Patrick is not the marriageable sort. I’m sure he’d much rather be on his own—out West. We’ll simply tell our friends that she’s widowed.”

  Burke wondered what his brother would think of this woman planning his life for him. Rambler or not, Burke didn’t think Patrick would take too kindly with not being able to watch his own child grow up. Burke certainly wouldn’t want a child of his own raised by others.

  A child? His child? He gulped at the very thought. A child meant a wife, and a wife meant a loss of freedom. Still, the image of Lexie round with his baby wouldn’t stay out of his thoughts. The baby would be a good-looking one and smart as a whip. It would take all the energy of both parents and maybe a few others to contain any child he and Lexie would conceive. He chuckled.

  “What’s so funny about my sister’s predicament?”

  Sobering, he answered, “Nothing. Sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

  * * *

  Lexie swayed with the rocking of the train as she made her way down the aisle to her seat. She was returning from washing a cinder out of her eye and wondering whoever thought riding on a train could be romantic. The hot, smelly air scorched her lungs, and soot embedded itself in her clothes, skin, and hair.

  Every night, her wash water was black. Even working the mine wasn’t as grimy as sitting on a train all day. And, of course, cinders flew everywhere. The hard benches had made her backside sore. Worst of all, the constant close proximity with Burke was addling her brain.

  She spied his muscled arm m
oving, then the back of his head. As she drew closer, she saw that he was practicing card tricks. Rarely did she see him without a deck of cards in his hands, practicing. He palmed cards, slipped cards up his sleeve or inside his vest, dealt from the bottom of the deck, or “seconds,” as he’d shown her. No matter how carefully she watched, it was difficult to see him deal the second card instead of the first.

  Burke O’Shaughnessy was a cardsharp of the first water. She wondered how many people would work such long hours in order not to have an honest job.

  Just as she got to the seat, an elegant blond woman entered the front of the car. Burke jumped up to greet her. “Charity! Just the woman I need to see.”

  Lexie felt faint and her stomach knotted as she assessed the stylish woman oozing with assurance. Yes, this was the type of woman who would attract Burke—not some plain sparrow such as herself.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me in Denver?” He gave the woman a hug and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Business. I have a fish on the line and the hook is set. I figured I’d be back in Denver before you got there.

  The hook is set, all right, Lexie thought. For Burke. She instantly disliked the cheerful, beautiful woman. Charity was everything Lexie wasn’t—blonde and curvy, and obviously skilled in the talents Burke admired. Lexie didn’t even want to think about what those talents entailed. Whether gambling or... or... whatever, Lexie’s experience was sorely limited. She tapped Burke on the shoulder.

  He turned to her, his hand still on Charity’s waist. “Pardon my manners. Miss Lexie Campbell, meet my long-time partner, Charity Ann Templeton.”

  Long-time partner, indeed! What sort of woman would let herself be used as a wife, but not demand the commitment? Answer: a woman who had the same lifestyle as Burke. She’d be independent and brave. Lexie couldn’t imagine going anywhere by herself. Charity traveled alone and seemed to be quite comfortable with it. Nor did she bat an eyelash at setting the hook by herself. Whatever the “hook” was. She’d ask Burke about that later.

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Campbell.”

  Lexie offered a standard nicety out of habit. “Likewise, Miss Templeton. I hope you’re having a pleasant trip.”

  “Call me Charity, dear.”

  Dear? Dear? The entire West seemed devoid of good manners. She sent Charity a reproving glance, then smiled sweetly.

  After an awkward silence, Burke said, “Lexie and I were about to have a cup of coffee in the dining car. Would you care to join us?”

  That was all Lexie needed, to have coffee with the woman.

  “Certainly.” Charity seemed all too cheerful.

  Lexie had no choice but to turn around and lead the way.

  After Burke seated the two ladies, he said, “Charity and I go back a long way. I think I was four when we met.” He turned to the blonde. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, you were four and I was three. Your parents were working the Nashville—that’s before they turned it into a hospital boat.” Even though she tried not to, Lexie resented Charity’s easy camaraderie with Burke.

  “The war was hard on Mississippi riverboats, for sure, but our parents didn’t seem to have a problem with the business.”

  “No, in fact, Papa said he made more money during the war than before or since.”

  Lexie knew Charity divulged this information for her benefit. Burke already knew it all. Charity wanted to stake her claim on Burke. As far as Lexie was concerned, Charity could have him.

  Burke lit a cigar. “We’ve done all right for ourselves, too.”

  Charity smirked as she fished some coins from her handbag. “Yes, but I’m after a bigger fish now.”

  “Are you goin’ this one alone?”

  “That I am.”

  Lexie didn’t like the look in Charity’s eye, and wondered what she knew that Burke didn’t. A foolish thought, Lexie chastised herself. If they were old friends, Charity would have Burke’s best interests at heart. Lexie just hoped Burke’s best interests weren’t too close to Burke’s heart.

  The waiter brought their coffee. Charity poured a dollop of cream in hers and stirred slowly. “Did you find what you wanted in Silverton?”

  Hadn’t Burke told Charity that he’d come to Silverton to find his brother? Lexie found a perverse satisfaction in knowing something about him that Charity didn’t.

  “Hardly. It might take me a week or more to get back to Denver.”

  “But Burke, you’ll miss the big game.” Charity batted her too-dark eyelashes. “I heard the winner left with over fifty grand last month.”

  “That he did.”

  Lexie took a sip of coffee and tried to appear unruffled. Two days’ travel gave her no hold over Burke. Besides, Charity would be the ideal partner for a man like him. They made a fine-looking couple, too—he with his dark hair, handsome features, and lazy smile, she with her blond tresses twisted in the latest style to match her fashionable powder blue traveling suit. Of course, she wore makeup. In the daytime.

  He patted Charity’s hand, a far too intimate gesture for an unmarried couple in public. “While we’re stuck on this train, we might as well kick up a dime or two.”

  “I’m a little short on time.” She tilted her head slightly and winked. “You ought to get out your cards, though. I’ve already seen a couple of fat ones waiting to be caught.”

  Burke and Charity spoke in foreign tongues for all Lexie understood, and she was happy when Burke escorted her back to the passenger car, and Charity Ann Templeton went back to wherever she came from. While there was no reprieve from the cinders, at least Lexie didn’t have to compare herself to yet another blond woman well-versed in feminine ways.

  Lexie would have given anything to be blond, shapely, and talented. Her lack of any sort of musical gift prevented her from ever becoming an accomplished pianist like her mother and sister. Helen was also an accomplished flirt. Lexie could never learn to do that. The transparency of it all embarrassed her to the point she couldn’t say a word around eligible young gentlemen.

  There should be some sort of law that a baby girl couldn’t take after her father as Lexie did. A woman whose sole ability lay in mathematics didn’t have a lot of options. The likelihood that any university would hire a woman as a professor was slim, at best. But she could hope. She’d applied at several.

  Burke took a cherry turnover out of the package and bit into it, rolling his eyes in ecstasy.

  “I thought you didn’t like cherries.”

  He held it toward her. “I make exceptions. Want a bite?”

  She licked her lips as she gazed at the enticing morsel. While not hungry, the very thought of taking a bite next to where he had seemed both alluring and dangerous. Yielding to common sense, which she hadn’t had much of lately, she waved it away. “I’m not hungry.

  An elegantly dressed gentleman with a stovepipe hat swayed down the aisle and stopped beside Burke. “I say, kind sir, do you have any more of those pastries? I would be happy to purchase two of them from you. My Myrtle is quite craving one.”

  Lexie caught her breath to speak but Burke put his hand on her shoulder and said, “We certainly do, mister. The little wife here made these cherry turnovers special for our twin nephews in Antonito. So I’m dreadfully sorry, but we simply couldn’t part with their treats.”

  Little wife? She drew in her breath but Burke tightened his fingers. Not painfully tight. Just enough for her to feel the strength in his hand. And nephews? The only niece or nephew they’d have together didn’t even have a last name yet.

  The gentleman pulled some bills off his money roll. “Do you think your nephews could forgo their treats for twenty bucks?”

  “You’re going to pay ten dollars apiece for a dessert?” Burke sounded aghast. Lexie knew it was all an act. He was good.

  “My Myrtle is with child. When your little lady is in that condition, you’ll understand my predicament.”

  Burke paused to consider. “Still and all, we did promise Wi
lly and Billy that we’d bring them some of her wonderful turnovers. They’re expecting to sink their teeth into these fine pastries the minute we get off the train. We’d sorely hate to disappoint them.”

  The man pulled out some more coins. “Forty dollars.”

  Burke sold the two turnovers for forty dollars. He offered her the rest of the one he’d taken a bite from. “Here, I truly hate cherries.”

  “Just a minute.” Lexie recorded the transaction in her ledger before she took the dessert. “I’d say a 1,299 percent markup is sufficient,” she muttered.

  “Barely.” He grinned as he stood and picked up the package of pastries. “I’ll see what I can do to improve on that.”

  And then find Miss Charity, Lexie thought. They deserved each other.

  She sank her teeth into the turnover.

  * * *

  Charity stared out the window and watched the pine trees whisk by. She far preferred Mississippi riverboats to sooty, smelly trains, especially this one. It wound about the San Juan mountains, causing significant intestinal discomfort for a few of the passengers.

  Nevertheless, she’d make the best of where her travels took her, and right now, she needed to get to Virginia City and find Patrick before Burke and Helen’s sister did.

  “Thank you for buying crochet supplies for me.” Helen drew a long length of scarlet yarn from the basket then looped it around her new hook. “I’m ever so much happier with something to keep my hands busy.”

  “You’re welcome.” A small price to pay, Charity mused. The O’Shaughnessy inheritance was hers if she could divert Patrick so Burke couldn’t find him. Miss Helen Campbell, while naïve to the point of irritation at times, had proven quite a boon. And she didn’t seem to have a problem with motion sickness.

  Charity checked her timepiece. “Are you hungry?”

  Helen nodded, continuing to crochet without even looking. “I’ve been hungry for an hour.”

  “Looks like I showed up just in time, then,” Gil Smith said, coming out of nowhere. He grabbed a seatback with each hand, walking up the aisle much like he was climbing a ladder. “I wouldn’t want my girls to go hungry.”