After her father passed away, she stayed in New Orleans at the high-class gambling establishment. Eventually, restlessness took her to San Antonio, and now it had brought her out to the last vestige of the Wild West. For years, men had come from miles around to sit at the Angel’s table and stare at her beauty while she took their money. She expected it would be no different in Willow Grove.
In the deepest, sheltered corner of her heart, she wished it could be. A sudden memory sprang to mind, one she hadn’t known existed. She couldn’t have been more than three or four at the time. Her mother, young and carefree, laughing as she slipped a lovely white camellia beneath the green ribbon on a hatbox wrapped in shimmering pink silk. She had winked at Camille. “Now, your father will know to bid on it, so we can eat together.” After giving her daughter a kiss, she picked up the box containing their supper and glided down the wide steps of their beautiful plantation home to her husband and the carriage.
Tears misted Camille’s eyes as she turned to the window, oblivious of the passing countryside. Her heart ached for what she had lost and for what she could never have…the simple pleasure of going to a box supper with a man like Ty McKinnon.
Chapter Two
Two days later, Ty stood on his back porch and took a sip of coffee, watching the first blush of dawn tint the sky above a distant mesa. He expected the cool morning to give way to another pleasant afternoon.
Business was thriving, both in the store and at the brand-new livery. Despite the fiasco with Charlie and the occasional interruption from ongoing road improvements, the stage line did a brisk business. The ranch was doing well, and most folks approved of Ty’s performance as acting mayor.
By rights, he should have been a happy man. He supposed he was—when heartache and loneliness didn’t close in on him like a suffocating fog.
He looked up toward the heavens, picturing his beloved Amanda’s face, speaking softly. “You’d be proud of Willow Grove, honey. It’s grown a lot in the last three years. We have four churches now.” He smiled wryly. “And about twelve saloons. New one opened last week.”
Ty figured if anybody heard him talking to his wife, they’d think he was plumb loco. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care. He only hoped his voice floated up through the windows of heaven.
Normally, when the memories grew too painful, he would ride out on the range and spend a few days by himself. There, he could think out loud and talk to his sweet wife as much as he wanted to without worrying about somebody hearing him. But now he had too much to do. The things he used as a distraction had become a trap.
Leaning against a post, Ty set the cup down on the railing. Streaks of purple and gold spread across the sky. “Harvey Miller is running against me for mayor. He seems bent on slinging mud if he finds any. I sure could use your advice on how to deal with him.” Tears stung his eyes. Amanda always had a knack for seeing right to the heart of a problem. More often than not, she worked out the solution, too.
But the night their baby was born, there had been problems no one could solve. Not the good doctor, who fought with every bit of his skill to save her. Not Ty, though he pleaded with God from the depths of his soul to spare his wife and child. Nor Amanda, though she held on as long as she could, promising to love him for all eternity.
“Why did you take her and little William, God?” Ty’s voice broke as he whispered the words. “Was heaven so empty that you needed their love to fill it?”
He tried so hard not to blame God for the hollowness in his soul, going about his work with a cheerful attitude and ready smile. He attended church every Sunday, read a little from the Bible every day and prayed often. Then he wondered if God heard his prayers at all when there was such anger and bitterness in his heart.
He put on a good front, hiding his sorrow from everyone except his brother. Cade saw through the facade and knew that when he went off to be alone, the pain had become too great to bear. Ty suspected that Cade prayed for him even more when he was gone. Sometimes, he swore he could feel his brother’s love wrapped around him. Or was it Jesus reaching out to him? Probably both.
“God, I’m grateful for the ways You’ve blessed me—the ranch, good businesses and being mayor. I know it’s by Your grace that we’ve done so well. But, Lord, I’m so tired of being alone. There are times I’d just as soon burn this house down as spend another empty night here.”
Ty stood there a few minutes longer, wiping away the tears as they rolled down his cheeks. Gradually the pain eased, and he took a deep breath. Thinking of the beautiful sunrise, a passage from Psalms came to mind, encouraging him.
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall Thy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me.
“Help me to make wise decisions today, Lord. Hold me close to You.”
His thoughts turned to the day ahead. Since it was Saturday, Cade and his family would be coming to town from the ranch. He glanced toward the house next door with a smile. Jessie had a grand time decorating it. The ranch house was comfortable. Their town home was fancy. Cade hadn’t built her a mansion, but it was two stories with plenty of room in case the family grew bigger. He’d bought her fine furniture and carpets and drapes—basically anything that caught her eye. Now they stayed in their own place when they came to town instead of with him. He missed them taking over his house. At least they’d brought life to it.
He went inside and rinsed out the coffee cup, washed his face and slipped on his suit coat. Taking his Stetson from the rack by the front door, he glanced around the room. As usual, everything was neat and tidy, just as Mrs. Johnson had left it on Monday. It would have been the same even if he had been in town all week. Without Cade and his family scattering things a bit, his cleaning lady had started lecturing him about finding a wife.
For an instant, anger boiled to the surface, and he jammed his hat on his head. “I have a wife.”
But you can’t hold a memory.
The thought surprised him, but not nearly as much as the one that followed—Camille Dupree’s lovely face and smile. His heart skipped a beat, and Ty drew a shaky breath.
He hadn’t seen her since the previous evening when he’d stopped the stagecoach in front of the Barton Hotel and unloaded her trunks. Despite his attraction to the lovely Miss Dupree—or perhaps because of it—he had been careful on the trip from San Angelo not to pay any more attention to her than he did to Mrs. Watson or Joanna. At least when anyone was watching. When they weren’t, he’d found himself staring at her time and again.
A sharp pang of guilt stabbed him. “I’ll always love you, Amanda,” he whispered. “Just like I promised.”
But his precious wife had asked for something more. “Don’t spend your life mourning me,” she’d whispered as she’d lifted a feeble hand and laid it lightly against his chest. “You have a loving heart, Ty. Enough room for me and another. Find someone to share your life and to love little William, to care for him.”
He could only bring himself to tell her that he would find someone to love their baby and to care for him. Within hours, William was gone, too.
In the years since, Ty could have had his pick of any eligible women in Willow Grove and a few other towns, too. Eventually, he’d grown to enjoy the attention, but no one had ever been interesting enough for him to do more than flirt a little. No one had ever lingered in his thoughts—except Camille Dupree.
The short walk downtown and the exchange of cheerful greetings with neighbors and other businessmen cleared his mind. He and Cade were partners in all their business ventures, but his brother ran the ranch while he handled things in town.
As the largest general merchandise store within a hundred miles, McKinnon Brothers supplied provisions to many of the ranches across several counties as well as the townspeople of Willow Grove. He took pride in carrying the best merchandise possible at a reasonable price. If a customer wanted something they didn’t have—and he knew of no one else in town who had
it—he would make every effort to order it for them. Ty and Cade were noted for their integrity, both personally and in business. They worked diligently to keep that reputation.
Four doors down from his store, Ty absently glanced through the window of the White Buffalo Saloon—and came to a dead stop. He turned slowly and looked again.
Standing at the bar with all the regal grace of a true Southern belle was none other than Camille Dupree. Ty shook his head, unable to believe his eyes. It was an unwritten rule that women did not enter the saloons in downtown Willow Grove. They did not come there to drink, nor to ply their trade. The dance halls and saloons where soiled doves catered to men’s baser needs were just outside the city limits in the unofficial red light district. For the most part, those women stayed in that area, rarely venturing into the more respectable part of town.
Deep disappointment swept through him, followed by anger that he had been so easily duped. Two long strides took him through the open door and inside the saloon. Though he knew it wasn’t officially open for business until ten o’clock, he was relieved to see that no one else had wandered in. He closed the door.
“Mornin’, Mayor.” Behind the bar, the Buffalo’s owner, Nate Flynn, lazily dried a glass. “What brings you to my grand establishment?” A quick glance at Camille and the twinkle in his eyes told Ty that Flynn knew exactly why he was there. “You already have my vote in April.”
Camille turned, resting her arm on the highly polished bar, and met Ty’s gaze with a tiny, defiant lift of her chin. “Mr. McKinnon.”
“Miss Dupree.” Ty approached them slowly, his gaze flickering to the glass in her hand.
“Would you care to join me in a lemonade?” she asked, her lilting drawl slightly exaggerated.
“No.” He stopped a few feet in front of her, resting his hands on his hips. “What are you doing in here?”
“Visiting with an old friend.” She sent Nate an affectionate smile. “And discussing our business arrangement.”
“What kind of business?” Ty worked to keep his voice steady. Please God, don’t let it be what I’m thinking.
Camille set down the glass and picked up a deck of cards from the bar, shuffling them with lightning speed and the fancy style of a professional. She looked at him, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Not what you have in mind, I assure you.”
“That’s a relief.” He relaxed slightly, feeling ashamed that he’d instantly thought the worst. Though being a professional gambler was bad enough.
“Angelique is the finest little card dealer west of the Mississippi.” Flynn winked at her. “Prettiest one, too.”
Ty was tempted to remind Flynn that he had a wife at home. “Angelique?”
“Also known as the Angel,” said the saloon owner. “Bonnie and I have known Angel since she was just a girl. Worked with her daddy when he was a dealer in New Orleans. Then I worked at her place in San Antonio for a while. We’ve been pesterin’ her to move out here for over a year. I’m hoping to convince her to become my partner.”
Camille laughed. “That’s news to me. I might consider it, as long as you don’t expect me to tend bar or drink with the customers.”
“Know better than to ask. I’d want you to put that business savvy of yours to good use, doing the books and ordering supplies. And dealing cards, of course.” Flynn flashed Ty a grin. “I figure just having her here will make the place the most popular one in town.”
“With some people,” Ty muttered. The women would have a different opinion.
“Will I see you at my table?” she asked, playing with the cards.
Ty had the feeling she knew exactly where each card was in the deck, though her attention seemingly was on him.
“No, you won’t. I learned long ago not to throw away my money on gambling and card sharks.”
Anger bristled in her eyes. “I do not cheat, sir.”
“She doesn’t have to,” said Nate. “She uses skill.”
“And distraction.” Ty imagined her in a low-cut gown of pale green silk. The thought alone was enough to turn a saint into a sinner. “The men around here don’t stand a chance.”
Nate laughed heartily. “That’s what I’m hoping for. But they have a few days to keep their money. She needs to rest up from the trip.” His smile faded as he glanced out the window. “Maybe you could give her a tour of the town. The cowboys are riding in early today. I don’t think she should venture out unescorted.”
“I’ll be fine, Nate.” She stacked up the cards and handed them to him. “I’m not fresh out of the schoolroom.”
Loud whoops and hollers sounded from the street. A second later, a bullet zinged past the window. Ty reacted instantly, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her to her knees at the bottom of the bar. Kneeling beside her, he shielded her body with his. Another bullet whizzed by, hitting the sign on the awning of the drugstore next door, making it swing. “Ransom, get out there,” he growled.
“Who’s Ransom?” While she kept her head down, her voice was slightly muffled.
“The sheriff.” He realized she was hanging on to his coat. A bullet splintered a chunk of wood from the saloon doorframe, and she buried her face against his chest. He tightened his arms, holding her close, and silently, foolishly thanked the cowboy who was dumb enough to shoot off his pistol in town. The subtle scent of roses encompassed him, and he closed his eyes. Lord, I’m in big trouble.
Suddenly, the noise in the street hushed. “Sounds like the sheriff arrived,” she said quietly. Ty loosened his hold but kept his arms around her. She raised her head, meeting his gaze. “Thank you.”
He nodded, the brim of his hat coming close to the top of her hair. He should let her go, help her up. But he didn’t want to. He noticed she was still clinging to his lapel. “Did I hurt you?”
“I bumped my knee. But it’s much better to have a tiny bruise than a bullet through my heart.”
“I don’t want you hurt at all.” But she would be once the women of the town heard what she was up to, even though they probably wouldn’t shoot her.
She laughed softly. “I’m thick-skinned.”
Nate leaned over the bar, wearing a big grin. “The sheriff has the boys corralled. Y’all can get up now.”
Soft pink touched Camille’s cheeks, and Ty’s heart did a little two-step. He’d never seen a woman who worked in a saloon blush. He released her and grabbed hold of the edge of the bar, pulling himself up, then offered her a hand, helping her to stand. “Would you like that tour of the town?”
She shook her head. “I’m tired. I think I’ll just go back to the hotel and take a nap.”
Behind her, Ty caught Nate’s frown. “Then I’ll walk over there with you.” When she started to protest, he interrupted. “No arguments. Nate is right. It wouldn’t be safe for you to go alone. My brother doesn’t let his wife stroll around unescorted on Saturday when the cowboys start coming into town. Most of them are fine, but there are always a few who like to cause trouble.”
She crossed her arms, peering out the window. “I see two…make that three…ladies walking alone right now.”
Ty turned, surveying the street. “Prune-faced matrons. Not a one of them would get a second glance from any of the men, and if they did, they could probably lay them out cold with one swing. But you’d be like the Pied Piper, with some of those boys following you right up to your room.” An image of the meek hotel desk clerk popped into his mind. “Come to think of it, you shouldn’t be staying at a hotel. Sam couldn’t protect you even if he had the courage to try. None of the other hotel clerks could, either.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve lived on my own for a long time.”
When he turned back to face her, he saw kindness mingled with sadness in her eyes.
“Mr. McKinnon, I appreciate your concern. But being seen with me won’t be good for your reputation.”
Probably not. But right then his reputation was of less importance than her safety. “You being seen with me will make most of
the men around here think twice about bothering you.”
She lifted a delicate brow, even as a smile danced at the corner of her mouth. “Mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Pretty much. Besides, I have a big brother.”
Nate chuckled and picked up her empty glass. “A very big brother.”
“If I can’t thrash ’em, Cade can.” Ty motioned toward the door, relieved when she picked up her small purse and started toward it without further protest.
“That’s an interesting philosophy for a God-fearing, churchgoing man.”
“I don’t go lookin’ for a fight, but I don’t back down if one comes looking for me.” He opened the door, quickly checking the boardwalk and street outside.
He held the door open for her, and she walked out. “What about turning the other cheek?”
“Well, ma’am, to be real honest, I’m not very good at that. Never have quite understood the idea. I usually manage to talk my way out of trouble, but if I can’t, I’ll stand my ground. Out here, you have to. Especially when it comes to protecting someone else. I don’t figure the good Lord would want me to allow someone to be harmed if it was in my power to stop it.”
“Which is why you spent time as a Texas Ranger.”
“That’s right.” He cupped her elbow as they went down the boardwalk steps, reluctantly releasing it as they walked across the dusty street. Every man on the block stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Camille. When they reached the boardwalk on the other side, he again gently took hold of her arm as they went up the steps. The action was not lost on the two cowboys standing in front of the hotel door. They quickly scrambled out of the way, hovering nearby, craning their necks for a better look at her. Ty opened the door, following her inside.
“Thank you for your trouble, Mr. McKinnon.” Camille stopped in the middle of the lobby.
“I’ll see you to your room.”
A tiny frown marred her brow. “That really isn’t necessary.”
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