Silver Belles and Stetsons

by Caroline Clemmons

  Never, in her whole life, had a misunderstanding mortified her like this. And just when she believed the day couldn’t get worse. “I need to go—”

  “I’m here ‘til this is over, Adaline. Watching a big bank throw its weight around and cause trouble for a widow and her daughters just don’t sit right with me. We’re gonna work this out, side by side, you and me.” He paused, watching her. “Got that?”

  “Please, Mr. Malloy, I don’t want to discuss this.” She picked up three clean pie tins Effie had returned, determined to carry them into the back and thus terminate the conversation.

  Before she knew it, Malloy had rounded the counter into the family-only area and blocked her exit. The insufferable man!

  “Why?” she demanded. “Why would you possibly want to help me?”

  “Just hear me out.” He eased the stack of pie tins from her hand, plopped them on the counter, and took her shoulders in a firm hold. “I have contacts in Denver City who’ll help us ensure Lockhart isn’t pulling a confidence trick. I know details you’ll waste time tracking down, and you need all the information you can get.”

  The enormity of it all weighed a ton. And it settled fully on her shoulders.

  How tempting to let Mr. Malloy help carry the burden.

  He nudged her chin up with a knuckle. “You’re gonna need a friend, a man who’ll stand at your side and make sure no one takes advantage of you. You and me, we’ll figure this out together.”

  The warmth of his hands, the gentle pressure of his grasp… how she liked it, far too much. Right along with the idea of together and the concept of we. Three very long months and nine interminable days, she’d carried all the responsibility for her family. Her gumption was worn threadbare.

  He searched her gaze, focused completely on her. “I feel a serious hankerin’ to protect you, darlin’. That’s all.”

  Well, phrased that way… he did sound mighty persuasive.

  “Listen,” he said. “A strange man comes into your place of business and tells you that you owe him an enormous sum of money. And he’ll walk you to the bank so you can give it to him? The first thing you do is look real serious at him and his credentials and make damn sure he’s shootin’ straight.”

  Oh.

  She hadn’t thought of that.

  The revelation proved how woefully unprepared she was… and likely too trusting.

  Beautiful blue eyes narrowed. “Has it occurred to you that Mr. Sheridan Lockhart— if that’s his name— might not be here under authority of First National Bank?”

  “Well, I—” She did need his help. She could see that now. But she’d witnessed the shock and distress on his features at the mere thought of marrying her yet he claimed to want to protect her. “I won’t have a conversation about this with you until I understand your motivations.”

  He drew her hands, clasped within his, upward. His breath warmed her knuckles. He dragged lips as soft as rose petals over her skin. Tingles exploded in her tummy.

  “’Cause I like you. You’re a nice lady. I like eating in this bakery. Wouldn’t want to see it close over somethin’ I could help.”

  “That’s neighborly of you, Mr. Malloy.”

  “I can’t leave you women to face this on your own. The whole idea of you and your mama trying to hold onto this place, alone, makes me crazy. Somehow, I keep thinkin’ if you’d had a man in the family, none of this would’ve happened.”

  “Are you offering to pay off the loan?” She heard bitterness in her tone, knew he must’ve too. Surely he didn’t mean to buy her freedom, did he? Would he be a better lien holder than First National Bank?

  “No, nothing like that. How much money we talking about?”

  An indelicate question, but it seemed they’d agreed, somewhere along the way, to share information. “Seven hundred dollars.”

  He whistled. “Where’s your Pa supposed to have put all that money?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Malloy dressed well enough, and though worn and comfortable, his clothing and boots and Stetson had been expensive. He always had coins to buy freshly baked goods. But no, he wasn’t wealthy like the Ericksons or Mayor Abbott. Seven hundred dollars had to be a whole lot of gold to him, too.

  “Dates and payment schedules don’t line up, serious tidbits don’t make sense, and where the money’s gone is just part of the puzzle. Somethin’ about Lockhart chafes, and I aim to find out what’s behind it all.”

  He shifted his weight. “Say, did you find your pa’s copy of the mortgage papers?”

  “No. Not yet.” She shook her head, frustrated. “I still cannot comprehend why you’d so much as take notice of my troubles, much less want to intervene. What’s in it for you?”

  “The satisfaction of takin’ care of you, darlin’, and your mama and sisters.”

  “Not good enough, Mr. Malloy. You don’t make a lick of sense. Everyone knows you went to Denver City a few days ago, on your way to Cheyenne and the big job waiting for you there, and then Mrs. Erickson came in to place a huge order for their big Christmas party for twenty house guests, and said you’d finished working for them but now you’re back when you should’ve been in Cheyenne by now and I simply don’t—”

  He pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. All the breath whooshed from her lungs.

  Her heart hammered desperately, frantic against her ribs, and seconds slowed like the stretching of molasses taffy. And still the heat of his mouth pressed to her skin.

  He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and seemed to vibrate against her hand. “I’ll have to remember a kiss is a fine way to quiet you down.”

  Fresh embarrassment swamped her as she snapped her mouth shut and tried to pull her gaze away from his. He held on tight.

  “I’ll share a secret, Adaline.”

  Oh, my. Her name sounded far better than she’d imagined, coming from him.

  He released her gaze, but his attention traveled downward and settled on her mouth. “I returned to Mountain Home for one reason and one reason only.” His boot heel dragged on the waxed floor as he drew unbearably nearer. He stood so close his trousers touched her skirts.

  Beneath her hands, his thick winter coat barely masked the male musculature. So firm, hard, powerful. She had to tip her face up, up, to meet his gaze.

  “Why?”

  Possessiveness— that had to be it— registered on his face. “I came back for you.”

  Chapter Three

  He had come back for her.

  She’d been the only thing, the only one on Malloy’s mind, once he’d seen the pair of crooks transferred to the Colorado Rangers. He’d thought to spend a few more hours watching, listening, like a kid with his nose pressed to the candy shop’s window. Looking, but not touching.

  Now that had all changed, and with one taste he wanted a whole lot more.

  He’d shocked her with the revelation, that much was clear.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “But you never— You didn’t so much as speak to me. You come in here every single day, buy a treat—”

  “Adaline.” He ought to silence her with a kiss.

  This near, he caught the fresh peppermint of her tooth powder. He wanted to persuade her with a kiss, but that seemed a really bad idea.

  “I’m not good enough for you, darlin’, and won’t ever be.” Damn. He hated that sorry fact. “But I’m the best you’ve got, and I can’t stay away. Tried that, and couldn’t do it. And that’s before I knew you were in trouble.”

  Her pink lips rounded in an O. Moist and soft, and tempting as any delectable treat she’d ever pulled out of her oven.

  “I’m here, if you’ll have me. I’ll protect you and your family from this banker with all I’ve got.”

  “You’re kind to offer, but I simply don’t see what you can do. My father signed that contract. The law is on the bank’s side.”

  “Not necessarily. You and me, we’re going to write up
a plan, take a close look at what we know and don’t know, and I’m going to review every ledger, every book your business keeps. If your Pa took a mortgage, I’ll find the reasons why.”

  She blinked. He saw the gears turning in her head, realized she hadn’t a clue why he’d offer his services, ‘cause she didn’t know what he did for a living.

  In most cases, that was a good thing. The way he wanted it. He’d shaken hands with Erickson, promising absolute secrecy to protect Erickson’s reputation.

  But this was Adaline, the woman he hoped would eventually trust him with her heart.

  That meant he had to do somethin’ to earn her confidence before he could expect the favor in return.

  He glanced about, determined they were still alone, and leaned close to her ear, maximizing the excuse to touch her, to smell her fragrance of vanilla and sugar. “I assess big operations, look at the books, find the leaks. Save big ranchers from financial ruin. I’m the man you need.”

  She stilled. “Erickson’s in trouble?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Why didn’t he say something? We would’ve—”

  “You can’t say a word, Adaline. Not one word. He hired me ‘cause I keep confidences. Through no fault of his own, his purse had holes in the bottom.” Two hired hands had helped themselves to Erickson’s profits over the past two years.

  “Oh.” He saw recognition dawn in her eyes, knew she’d piece together bits she’d heard with things she may have seen through her shop windows.

  “Uh huh. Maybe you see now why I couldn’t stay away, once I heard all Sheridan Lockhart had to say. If any man in the state of Colorado is perfectly equipped to help you, right now, it’s me.”

  She tipped her head a little to the side, regarded him openly. A moment passed. “I understand a wealthy landowner in or near Cheyenne offered you a pretty penny if you could get there before Christmas. I can’t pay you nearly as much.”

  No sense hiding the truth. “I don’t want your money.”

  “Don’t you need to go?” She eased away, fell back a step, so he took a step forward. Kinda like a dance. They moved together nicely, and he rather liked having her close.

  He braced an arm beside her head and traced the fingertips of his free hand along the smooth skin of her jaw.

  She leaned her back against the wall. From here, he had a clear view of the O-shaped kitchen which circled through the area behind the counter. Prep areas, coal-fired ovens, and a fancy brick hearth for baking bread along the outside wall. He’d heard running water, so somewhere in back had to be a sink and cabinets for dishes.

  He wasn’t all too surprised to see Jane and Juliette, creeping close, apparently itchin’ to overhear the conversation. While Adaline’s gaze seemed mesmerized by his mouth, he cast a wink at the girls to let them know he’d seen them.

  “Where?” he asked. “To Cheyenne? Nah.”

  “But the bonus—”

  He pressed a thumb to her lips, silencing her. “This is more important,” he told her. “You are more important. And you need me.”

  Eventually, she’d come to accept he intended to stay, see her through this storm, do everything he could, and then some.

  “You’d give up the bonus, the pay, to remain here?” Her tone made it clear she didn’t believe him.

  Who had hurt her so badly, that she couldn’t believe a man meant what he said?

  “One more time— I don’t want your money.”

  Her little sisters could almost see Adaline’s profile, no doubt, and certainly overheard everything said.

  She swallowed. Hard. He watched, mesmerized as her pupils expanded and her kissable mouth softened, opened, beckoned.

  Heating his blood and making him wish he’d had the wisdom to keep his physical distance. It’d take next to nothing to lower his head and kiss her.

  “Then what do you want?” Her attention stayed on his mouth. An invitation if he’d ever seen one.

  What did he want? He wanted to marry her.

  But marriage, especially to a man like him— no home, content to travel from job to job— was far too high a price for a lady like her, with roots so deep in this community she’d never be happy anywhere else.

  No gentleman would ask for her hand in marriage, in payment for doin’ the right thing. He could ask far less, something within her power to give. Something that wouldn’t bind her to him.

  “A kiss.” Now he couldn’t look away from her eyes, her mouth. “One kiss, and the accounts are settled.”

  Even as he bargained for one, he knew one kiss, one taste, would never suffice.

  He already knew he’d crave another. And another.

  “One kiss. You’re serious?”

  “Kiss me, Adaline.” He closed his eyes and touched his lips to hers. Energy zinged and sparked, though only two points of contact existed between them. His fingertips to her cheek and his mouth on hers.

  Never, in the many kisses of his past, had any shocked him with raw power. He’d take her in his arms, kiss her more deeply, if he could manage to move.

  Amazing.

  Breathtaking.

  Perfect.

  He’d made a wretched, horrible mistake. He’d been right— one would never be enough. He wanted more. A thousand times more.

  His thoughts immediately ran in a direction only a husband’s should and not for the first time, he wanted to propose marriage, seriously, with all his heart. He’d pledge his life to her, and somehow, some way, they’d make it work. She’d never leave her mother, sisters, and the bakery. He had no way of supporting a family if he didn’t travel to meet the work.

  How could he resign this compassionate, tender woman to a life of hard work, when he couldn’t be around to lighten her load?

  He’d bargained for one kiss.

  Not smart, Malloy, so not smart to want another.

  Held her gaze for one long, intimate moment, forgot ‘bout what was best or kindest, and pressed his lips to hers again.

  Two voices chorused in girlish laughter, squealing, as their running footsteps pounded toward the stairs. Running to tattle to Mama, he’d bet.

  How had he completely forgotten the children looked on?

  Adaline gasped, pulled away.

  “We just got caught,” he murmured against her cheek, inching toward the corner of her mouth. “Those young’uns heard me bargain for a kiss, witnessed it all, and I have a feelin’ your mama will be out of bed and down here in less than a quarter hour.”

  “You knew they were listening?” She pushed past him, spun about. “And you kissed me?”

  “Yeah. I honestly forgot. Found myself a bit hypnotized.”

  In the quiet of the shop, the tittering excitement of their voices trailed down the staircase.

  “I—” she straightened. “I think you’d better go now.”

  “Can’t do that, darlin’. I just accepted payment in full for accounting services not yet rendered. It looks like we have a deal, and time’s a wastin’.”

  She hesitated, seemed to think it over. Finally acceptance settled in. “Come have a seat.” She headed toward the back of the shop and gestured for him to follow. “I’ll get you the accounting ledgers, a cup of coffee, and a sandwich.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He followed, finally taking time to strip out of his coat.

  “I bet you won’t be able to find anything in the business ledgers.” She pulled the records in question off a shelf beside a drop-leaf dining table. Several tall east-facing windows would have let abundant daylight in, had the winter sky not been bleak.

  “Is that right?” He grinned. “What kind of ‘anything’ am I looking for?”

  Four ledgers, then a total of six, square in the middle of the table. She gestured for him to sit. He hung his coat over the back of the chair, handed her his hat, and took a seat even as she raised the drop-leaf into position and provided him room to work.

  She took her time answering. “You tell me. You’re the expert. You believe somet
hing in these books will lead us to understand why. But I say you won’t find it.”

  “Uh huh.” He opened one ledger, then another, figuring he’d start with the most recent. “I’ll take that bet.”

  “Oh, I didn’t exactly mean—”

  “There must be stakes, Adaline.”

  “But—”

  “I find something and I win.” He shouldn’t say it. He really shouldn’t. “You’ll owe me a kiss.”

  He heard her swallow. “Another kiss?”

  He glanced up and grinned. Couldn’t help it, the way her eyes sparkled and her cheeks pinked. Made him wonder if she’d ever been kissed… before him, that is. He hoped he’d been the first.

  Her spine straightened and she started fussing with washing down the waist-high worktable dominating the center of the room. “You dig right in. I know you won’t find anything, because I know my father.”

  “Well, then. If you’re right, and I don’t find anything, I guess you’ll owe me two.”

  Chapter Four

  Usually Saturday late afternoons saw a brisk business. Folks came in to buy fresh yeast rolls and pies for Sunday dinners. But with snowflakes the size of pennies tangling in the wind, they’d be lucky to see one-fourth their usual business, so Adaline baked accordingly.

  She removed another pair of bubbling, perfectly browned dried cherry pies from the ovens and set them on the work table to cool alongside six others already setting up. She slid buttered tins of rolls into the available ovens.

  Typically, it wouldn’t be dark ‘til half-past four, but she’d lit a lamp near two-o’clock as the storm worsened.

  Mr. Malloy had become so fully absorbed in the ledgers, neither building storm, pie baking, nor memories of a kiss could distract him. From all she could see, he dug into ledgers with the same utter concentration he focused on savoring baked goods. Adaline tried to avoid disappointment.

  That first kiss had been…

  Everything.

  More than she’d imagined.

  Yet he worked as if she weren’t present. He traced a blunt forefinger over the entries, paused to tabulate. He opened two previous ledgers and compared. He’d removed spectacles from his shirt pocket and pulled the wire ends behind his ears when he’d first tucked into the project. The lenses winked in reflected lamplight. He jotted down several lines of notes.