Approaching the Tripoli, Ty heard piano music, but no loud or boisterous singing or theatrics. Even the music was quieter than the usual saloon tune. He paused at the door, barely hiding a grin as he scanned the small, dejected crowd. The visiting performers were packing up their props and carrying them out the back door, grumbling as they did so.
Ty walked through the double swinging doors, nodding to Mulhany who leaned against the shelves behind the bar.
“Come to gloat, Mayor?” Surprisingly, the Tripoli’s owner didn’t seem too angry.
“No. I just came by to see how things were goin’.”
“Well, they’re goin’ all right.” Mulhany stared at the theatrical troupe. “Headin’ off toward El Paso or somewhere in between. I can’t pay a fine every time they do a show, even if it’s only twenty-five dollars a hit.”
“It would have been at the higher end of the range.”
“That’s what I figured.” Mulhany poured himself some whiskey. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”
Mulhany downed the rest of his drink and leaned on the bar, speaking quietly. “Well, just between you and me, y’all did me a favor. This bunch is a lot raunchier than I’d expected.”
“Better suited to the district than here on Main Street.”
Mulhany nodded. “I ain’t interested in movin’ my business down there. An acquaintance in Fort Worth recommended them. The way he bragged on them I thought they were a high-class outfit. Turns out he has some monetary interest in the company, but I didn’t know that at the time. Signed ’em up for a week.”
“So you couldn’t break the contract without losing money.”
“Right. But since y’all passed that ordinance, it gave me legal cause to finagle my way out of it. The way the sheriff read the law to them helped.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I don’t know if you meant it this way, but he implied that the performers might be fined, too, since they’re involved.”
Ty laughed. “I doubt that interpretation would hold up in court, but we won’t mention it to those folks.”
“In a way, I wish they could stay through Saturday. Business has never been so good. But I’d lose money with that fine every day, and drive all my neighbors loco. You know, I think there were plenty of cowboys who came in here to see the show just because it was entertainment, not because it was bawdy. Several of them walked out after the first act or sooner.”
“Maybe you should build an opera house.”
“I’d like to, but even if I sold this place, I wouldn’t have nearly enough money for a building and starting the business, too. You have to guarantee the performers a certain amount or they won’t come. It don’t matter whether you bring in enough money or not, you still have to pay them.”
“What if you had some partners? I’ve toyed with the idea for over a year now, but haven’t had the time to do more than think about it. I bet we could find a few other folks who would be interested enough in having good-quality entertainment to join us.”
Mulhany’s eyes lit up. “Do you think we could? We wouldn’t be able to get out-of-town entertainment here all the time, but local people could use it, too.”
Ty had a knack for judging people, and he knew that Red Mulhany was honest and a hard worker. He also knew that Red’s kind of enthusiasm for a dream went a long way to making it happen. “You been thinking about this for a while?”
The saloon keeper shrugged. “Yeah, over a year now for me, too. But I knew I couldn’t do it on my own.”
“Let me talk to a few people, see what I come up with.”
“I’ve drawn up some sketches, ideas for the stage and seating. The wife likes to go to Fort Worth and Dallas every so often to visit her kinfolks. We usually try to take in a play or musical, too. I’ve tried to make mental notes of how the theaters are set up.”
“You’re way ahead of me,” said Ty with a grin. “That’s good information to pass on to would-be investors.” He pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket and flipped it open. “I need to get moving. Got a dinner date.”
“With Miss Dupree?”
“Yes, and Miss Nola. Miss Dupree is going to stay at her place.”
Mulhany grinned. “That’ll make it convenient to go callin’. Especially since you go over there on Wednesday nights anyway.”
Ty wondered if everyone in town knew he ate dinner with Nola on Wednesday, then decided they did. Chances were the saloon keeper already knew that Camille had moved in with Nola. Most folks in town knew just about everything about everybody else. “That it will.”
As he turned to leave, he heard a commotion outside, like someone was pounding on the boardwalk.
“Close down the Tripoli! Close this den of iniquity!” Harvey Miller’s strident voice was unmistakable. “Ride ’em out of town on a rail! And Red Mulhany with them.”
Other voices joined in, shouting their disapproval and condemnation. Looking through the windows, Ty counted about ten men and women. He didn’t blame them for voicing their displeasure and trying to protect the integrity of the town. He just wished Miller wasn’t heading up the group.
“He’s in fine form this evening,” muttered Ty. He glanced at the traveling troupe as they each grabbed a handful of belongings and hurried toward the back door. “No need to panic, folks. I’m sure Sheriff Starr will be along directly.” He looked back at Red. “I’ll go talk to them. I don’t expect any trouble, but if I were you, I’d lay that shotgun of yours up on the bar in clear view and easy reach.”
Grimacing, Mulhany pulled his gun from beneath the counter and checked to make sure it was loaded.
As Ty walked to the door, he heard the dull thump as Mulhany set it on the bar. Pushing the door open slowly, Ty almost ran into Miller. Naturally, he was on the steps so everyone could see him. A hush fell over the crowd as Ty stepped outside. Miller slowly turned around, holding a baseball bat in both hands.
“The ball field is at the end of town.” Ty scanned the crowd, then pinned his opponent with his gaze. “Or did you come down here planning to bust a few heads?”
“We’re here to drive these disreputable elements out of our fine city,” shouted Miller. “Looks like we need to start with you.” He turned back toward the group that had come with him and the dozen or so others who had wandered over to see what was going on. “See what a fine mayor you have? You saw him walk out of there bold as brass. Is this the kind of mayor you want? Someone who spends his afternoons cavorting with indecent women and disreputable men?”
“No!” The lone voice belonged to Mrs. Miller.
Ty noted that Camille had crossed the street and stood at the back of the crowd. She met his gaze, her tiny smile telling him she had a good idea why he had been in the Tripoli.
The minister of Miller’s church—a man who had already quietly told Ty that he would be voting for him—cleared his throat. “Mayor McKinnon, what were you doing in there?”
Quintin walked down the sidewalk, the deputy sheriff’s badge shining brightly on his chest. Ransom was with him, the sound of their boots echoing in the silence after the reverend’s question. They joined Ty, standing on each side of him.
“I came by to talk to Mr. Mulhany about the ordinance the city council passed last night.” Ty pointed to the notice tacked up on the post a foot from Miller’s head. “Sheriff Starr, would you care to read the new ordinance to these good folks?”
Ransom took a step forward, elbowing Miller out of the way, and loudly read the ordinance.
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Ty made eye contact with a couple of people in the crowd who had arrived with Miller. “Mr. Thomas, why don’t you come up here and peek in the window and tell us what you see.”
The man hesitated, then bolted up the steps and peered in the window, framing each side of his face with his hands. He turned back around toward the street.
“They’re leaving. The last one is going out the back door right now.”
“We drove them out of town,” shouted Miller.
A few people cheered, their voices trailing off as Ty shook his head. “You didn’t have anything to do with it, Miller. They were already packing up when I got here.” He tapped the ordinance flier with his fingertip. “Your city council had already taken care of the problem. This ordinance and a threat of a fine is what sent them packing. It also enabled Mr. Mulhany to get out of his contract with the theatrical troupe. A contract he made, by the way, because he had been led to believe that their entertainment was of the highest decency and caliber. Their performances took him completely by surprise.”
“So there won’t be any more loud singing and indecent play acting?” asked the minister.
“No, sir.” Red Mulhany stepped out of the saloon. He’d left his shotgun behind. “Your womenfolk and children can walk down the street without being scandalized or embarrassed. I apologize for what has transpired the last few days. I only wanted to provide the cowboys with some entertainment, but I never intended for it to be that kind.”
“You folks go on home and have your supper,” said Ransom. “The problem has been resolved.” He glanced at the bat in Miller’s hands. “Without me having to arrest anyone for assault and battery.”
Ty wondered how his friend kept a straight face. A couple of people snickered. The crowd slowly dispersed, much to Ty’s relief and Miller’s obvious disgust. Ty’s political opponent didn’t have anything else to say. He just glared at Ty and stomped down the steps to where his wife waited. Mumbling under his breath he stormed right past her. She spun on her heel, racing after him.
“Thanks for backing me up.” Ty spoke to both Ransom and Quint. He paused, studying the shiny tin star on Quint’s shirt pocket. “Looks like it belongs there.”
Quint made a face and rubbed the back of his ear. “Couldn’t you have waited a day or two before you raised a ruckus?”
Ty laughed, his gaze shifting briefly to Camille as she approached. “Don’t blame me. It was Miller’s idea. Good way to initiate you, especially with Ransom here.”
“Good way to make me go back to the ranch,” grumbled Quint, smiling as he said it. His gaze moved to Camille, his eyes widening slightly.
As she stepped up onto the boardwalk, Ty felt an unexpected swell of pride. “Miss Dupree, this is Quintin Webb, Jessie’s brother and our new deputy sheriff. Quint, may I present Miss Camille Dupree.”
“Ma’am.” Quint nodded, touching the brim of his hat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Webb. Between Ty and Mr. Hill, I’ve heard all about how you helped capture the rustlers last year. We’re very fortunate to have you as our deputy.”
“Thank you.” Quint took a deep breath. “I sure hope I can live up to everyone’s expectations.”
“Bein’ a hero does have a few drawbacks,” said Ransom.
“Like half the unmarried ladies in town inviting you to dinner or baking you pies.” Ty slapped his friend on the back. “I think you’re puttin’ on a little weight.”
“From the pies maybe. I never have time to accept the dinner invites. Might now though since I have help. ’Course they may turn their sights on Quint and leave me out in the cold.”
Camille laughed and moved into the waning sunshine. “Judging by all the ladies who stopped to watch when you two walked down the street, neither of you will be lacking for meals or desserts. You garnered as much attention as Mr. McKinnon.”
Quint looked at Ty. “Observant, isn’t she?”
“You’ve been hiding out at the ranch too long,” said Ty. “Women have an innate ability to know what other women are thinking.”
“Especially when it comes to men.” A gust of wind stirred up the dust in the street. Camille shivered and buttoned her coat. “Is it just me or is it turning colder?”
“It’s getting colder.” Ty glanced at the wide, gray cloud lying across the northern horizon. “We have a blue norther blowing in. You’d better dig your heavy coat out of the trunk tonight.”
“I don’t have a heavier coat. This was all I ever needed in San Antonio.”
“Then we’ll take care of that right now.” He cupped her elbow, pointing her in the direction of the store.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Webb.”
“You, too, Miss Dupree. Don’t you let Ty run roughshod over you.”
“Not a chance,” murmured Ransom, smiling at Camille.
Ty and Camille walked briskly toward his store. The temperature was dropping by the minute.
“I suppose now he’ll tell Mr. Webb all about my run-in with the harness maker.”
“Probably. But he’ll do it because he wants Quint to know there might be a problem with Cline, not because he’s telling tales on you.” Ty opened the door to McKinnon Brothers, holding it for her to go inside. “Do you have a rubber coat in case it rains?”
“Yes. Overshoes, too. We had plenty of rain in San Antonio. Even more in New Orleans.” She shivered again. “But not this biting cold. Do you stock gloves and warm hats?”
“Right this way, miss.” Ty rested his hand at the small of her back. “We’ll fix you right up. I have a nice heavy wool coat that has your name on it.”
He guided her down the main aisle, then another until they were standing in front of the ladies’ coats. Pulling a golden-brown one off the rack, he held it up in front of her. “Good color for you. I think it might be the right size.”
Camille raised an eyebrow and checked the tag. “Exactly the right size. The color is nice.”
He helped her put it on, smiling in satisfaction when she faced him again. “The color is perfect. So is the fit. It could be an inch or two shorter, but I don’t think it will drag in the mud if we have rain. There’s a mirror on the other side of those dresses. See what you think.”
“I think it’s warm and feels good.” She walked around the rack of dresses, stopping in front of the mirror. “It should be all right. If it bothers me, I can always have it shortened after the cold spell.”
“The alterations are free.” At her questioning expression, he added, “For all our customers.”
“Do you sew, too?” Mischief played across her face, making Ty smile.
“No. We use the local seamstress.” He pointed to some shelves nearby. “Here’s what’s left of our winter hats and gloves. Do you see any you like?”
Camille perused the shelves, picking out dark-brown gloves and a matching wool hat. She pulled the hatpin from the flowery hat she had on and lifted it from her head, handing it to Ty. Putting on the new one, she tugged it down to cover her ears and smiled happily. “Now my ears don’t feel like icicles.” She tried on the gloves, too. “Perfect. I’ll take them all.”
“They’re on sale for half price.”
“I don’t see a sign.”
“That’s because I just put them on sale.”
“And will the sale end when I walk up to the cash register?”
Ty had the notion she wouldn’t like that. “Nope. I need to clear out the stock to make room for the order of spring coats and hats coming in next week.”
“Good answer, McKinnon.” She led the way to the counter, removing her gloves only to write him a check. Then she put them back on, watching as Ty put her other hat in a hat box. “Do you think it will get much colder?”
“Probably, considering the way the wind is picking up and the temperature is dropping.” Ty picked up some scissors lying on the counter and cut the tags from her new purchases, then handed her the hat box. He stopped by a display of men’s coats, taking one for himself and removed the tag on it, too. “Ed, you and John grab coats before you head home.”
“Thanks, boss.” The wind rattled the window. Ed frowned, walking over to peek out. “Think we’ll need ’em. You two better get on over to Mrs. Simpson’s before it starts raining.”
“We’re goin’.” Ty grabbed an um
brella as they walked toward the door just in case they needed it. “Did you get moved in?”
“My trunks are there,” said Camille. “I stopped by long enough to confirm their delivery. I’ve been too busy at the paper to unpack.” When they walked out the door, a blast of wind hit them in the face. “Oh, my. Nobody told me it gets this cold here.”
“It doesn’t happen too often, and it doesn’t usually last long when it does. Sorry I don’t have a buggy here to drive you over.”
“I’ll survive.” She picked up the pace. “If we walk fast.”
They turned the corner heading up the street toward Nola’s. Ty positioned himself on the north side of her to try to protect her from the wind. “We won’t be trying out that porch swing tonight.”
“Sitting in front of a nice warm fire sounds much more appealing at the moment.”
He reached down and caught her hand. “As long as it’s with you.”
She looked up at him and nodded, warmth lighting her eyes.
His fingers tightened lightly on hers. Right that minute, even a blue norther felt pretty good.
Chapter Fourteen
Ty brought in another load of wood, stacking it on the floor by the full wood box next to the kitchen stove. He had split a similar amount and brought it into the living room. “That should keep you nice and warm for a few days.”
“Thanks.” Camille stood near the stove, letting the heat warm her thoroughly. She had gone outside with him after dinner and held the lantern so he could see. They had worked at the side of the house out of the wind, so it wasn’t bad. Her new coat kept her from getting overly chilled.
The vigorous exercise kept Ty warm. He had even slipped off his jacket halfway through the job.
Camille had been fascinated watching him chop the wood, particularly after he’d shed the suit coat. She had seen other men do the job, but hadn’t really paid much attention to them. It had never occurred to her how much coordination and precision the task required. Not to mention the strength and stamina needed to provide such a large supply. He was a very competent man in so many ways.
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