Gunslinger: A Six Guns and Prairie Roses Novel

by Cynthia Breeding

  John nodded. “I’ll make sure everything is put away when it arrives.”

  She smiled, hoping to sooth ruffled feathers of male pride. “I know you like to work alone, so I’m sure you’ll take care of it.”

  He gave another curt nod and turned away. When he had gone, her thoughts returned to a completely different man. A maddeningly charming and recently elusive man who also liked to work alone.

  She sighed again. Luke Cameron was vexing, indeed.

  ♦◊♦

  Two weeks of trying to keep his distance hadn’t worked. Luke wasn’t sure whether to be angry at himself for letting his iron-like self-will be cracked or amazed that someone who might be a schemer had managed to do so. But, like iron, she seemed to have a magnetic pull on him.

  Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on which of his heads was currently leading his inner battle—Abigail wasn’t present when he walked into the store.

  “Where is Mrs. Sayer?” he asked John.

  The man snorted. “Some of those widow women came by. Something about visiting a dressmaker and needing advice on using silk.”

  Luke frowned. He’d spent part of his time away from the store talking to the bankers who’d handled the original loans and paperwork on the store—they’d agreed to handle the account for expansion as well—but he’d also shown up for the two weekly socials at the store. His goal had been to meet new matrons that the ads had drawn in and to drop hints about the investment venture. Perhaps staying away the rest of the time hadn’t been such a good idea, especially if Abigail had started making friends with the ladies. He didn’t want her implicated in any way once he’d flushed out the accomplice and the phony set-up was exposed. Her name and reputation should not be jeopardized in any way. His intention was to force the damn man to sell the store quietly without fuss, except for a bit of blackmail if need be, and hand over the proceeds.

  “Is she going to be gone all afternoon?”

  “Don’t know. She didn’t say.”

  And he didn’t ask. Luke sensed the underlying resentment in John’s tone. He supposed the man didn’t like answering to a woman, but he’d been tempted to remind him that he should be grateful she hadn’t given him the sack. Especially now that she had a handle on how to operate the store. But he’d held back, not wanting to make the situation worse. Once the accomplice was revealed, John would more than likely be out of a job, anyway.

  So would Abigail.

  Over the past two weeks, Luke had decided that he’d have to give a portion of the proceeds to Abigail—if she weren’t part of the scheme to begin with—so that she’d have enough money for a down payment on another enterprise. She’d definitely shown she had a head for business. Not to mention sales. In less than the month the ladies’ club had been open, she’d managed to persuade the ladies to buy almost all of the tea, spices and silks…which made his mind start circling around in its never-ending cycle of whether she had been part of Sayer’s swindling or not. Lucifer’s horns! He was going to drive himself straight into perdition if he didn’t stop thinking like this. He gave himself a mental shake. At any rate, he aimed to protect her from any fall-out that would be his doing.

  “If Mrs. Sayer is going to be out, I guess I’ll study the profit margin on our new imports,” he said. “If they’re as good as I think, we may be close to starting to build that extension.”

  “They’re good. I know, since I run the cash register.” John cast him a sideways look. “Maybe too good.”

  Luke raised a brow. “Too good? What do you mean?”

  He shrugged. “Just heard her talking. Every time one of them women come in, she always tells them not to forget that if an extension is built, they could be a part of the business.”

  That was not what Luke wanted to hear. They’d agreed to keep the venture separate. How in hell was he going to keep her name out of a possible scandal if she was promoting the damn thing? He sighed. He was definitely going to have to put more time in at the store. “I’ll talk to her. I haven’t come up with any specific plans yet.”

  John snorted again. “Maybe you haven’t, but she has.”

  Luke’s gaze sharpened on him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “The woman’s wily. She ain’t one of them docile types.”

  That was an understatement if he’d ever heard one. But Luke needed to know what John really meant. “I won’t argue the point, but I don’t understand how it makes a difference.”

  “She cottons up to all them women. Makes talk real nice.” John cast another sideways glance. “She’s earnin’ their trust.”

  “Go on.”

  “I think she’s got her own reasons for wantin’ you to do this.”

  “And what would that be?” Luke asked, keeping his tone neutral.

  “She spends hours going over them books. Doesn’t miss a penny being off.”

  “That sounds like a good thing to me.”

  “Maybe.” John shrugged again. “Like I said, she’s a wily one. Wouldn’t be hard for her to doctor them receipts and pocket a bit of money.”

  Luke wasn’t sure that he’d heard John actually say those words or if his own brain was playing tricks on him from over-thinking. “You think Mrs. Sayer is fleecing her own business?”

  “Not sayin’ that. A dog don’t mess its own bed,” John answered, “but I think she’s fixin’ to double-cross you.”

  Luke gave him an incredulous stare. “Double-cross me? We’re partners.”

  “Ain’t unheard of. She’s cagey enough to fix a few numbers on some of the expenses once the building starts. Maybe even pocket some of the profit from them women she’s sidling up to.” John lifted one shoulder nonchalantly. “If I was you, I’d keep the locals out of investing in this building thing.”

  “But my investors want local participation. It’s one of their terms.” It was Luke’s only term. He had to spike the interest of whomever the silent partner was. Once word got out that the same bank would be handling the account for the investment, it should catch the attention of the accomplice.

  “Just sayin’.” John looked over to the door where a customer had entered. “Be right with you.” As he turned away, he lowered his voice. “If them local widows get taken in, there’s a lot of vigilante justice in this here town.”

  Vigilante justice. Luke had seen more than his share of vigilante justice. Had administered some of it himself when he worked for Pinkerton. However, he intended to return the widows’ money when this was over.

  But it was one more reason to keep Abigail out of this mess.

  ♦◊♦

  John rang up the purchase for the customer that had come in and then stared at the closed door of the office where Cameron had retreated. He had a nose like a bloodhound when it came to smelling a swindle. And one was about to happen.

  He just didn’t know if the New York bitch or Sayer’s “cousin” was setting it up. It could be both. He’d felt like a horse with a cactus thorn under its saddle since each of them showed up. He’d tried to talk Travis out of a mail-order bride, but the damn fool wouldn’t listen. Insisted having a “proper” wife would lend him respectability. That she’d never set foot in the store without him. Ha.

  Then, there was Cameron. Travis had never mentioned a cousin. The man looked more like a professional gambler than a business investor. John had dealt with both, and true gamblers were much more dangerous. They missed nothing. Took nothing for granted. They were definitely not easy to fool.

  And John needed to keep the charade of running a simple general store going. It was a perfect cover for the lucrative opium trade that had proved more profitable than any of the swindling schemes he’d been part of. Captain Bartlett had a steady supplier and could deliver monthly shipments. Building an expansion would interfere with the movement of those barrels. His buyers had already complained there were too many people swarming about when they came to the store. Getting a pack of widows involved—the perfect marks for a swindling operation�
�would mean relentless traffic flowing in and out of the store. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  John closed the cash register drawer. He had hoped the bitch would soon tire of playing at running a store, but that hadn’t happened. Since she refused to sell and the so-called cousin wasn’t going anywhere, either, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

  It was time to make things start to happen. Things that weren’t going to be pleasant.

  Chapter Nine

  “I just knew this club was going to be successful!” Delia handed Abby a plate with a scrumptious puff of pastry on it.

  Abby looked around the tea room. Every seat was taken and several ladies were standing, managing to balance tea cups on saucers while nibbling on the new cinnamon and sugar sweets that one of the widows had brought. She took a bite of the meringue off the top of the nutmeg-laced biscuit and let it dissolve in her mouth before answering.

  “Your idea of having the ladies compete for best desserts was sheer genius.”

  Delia grinned. “They do buy more spices when they’re trying to out-do each other.”

  Abby smiled back. “Not to mention I don’t have to ask the baker to come up with ideas. I’m not very creative when it comes to cooking.”

  “You won’t have to worry about that now.” Delia gestured to the guest book lying open on a small table by the door. “Practically everyone who’s signed in has indicated dates…that’s with an ‘s’, as in plural…that they want to bring their creations. You’ve got enough volunteers to last three months!”

  Abby nodded happily. “Thank goodness the Neptune Maiden is due in soon with the next shipment of spices. We’re already running low.”

  “That will just make the widows more competitive.” Delia took a sip of tea. “You probably could even raise the prices, since they’re buying so much.”

  “Supply and demand, you mean?” Abby shook her head. “First, I don’t want to take advantage of them. A lot have become friends over the past weeks. Second, the best way to increase sales is word-of-mouth or, in this case, taste-in-mouth. The more they bake and share with other friends, the more will come in here to buy.”

  Delia reached for a cookie. “I suppose you have a point.”

  “I also sell spices to the baker and he’s already grumbling about the cost, even though from his continuing orders, I suspect his customers are appreciating his new additions.” Abby wiped crumbs from her fingers with a linen napkin. “I don’t want to offer him a discount—at least, not yet—while the ladies are paying full price.”

  “That’s really ethical of you.”

  “I want to be honest, that’s all.” Abby meant that. If her friend only knew about her past, she wouldn’t think her ethical at all. Let alone honest. She and Ben had started their criminal lives by stealing apples from vendors’ carts as children and, as adolescents, they’d graduated to snatching unattended purses and parcels, eventually refining their skills to picking pockets. They’d done what they did to survive, but that still didn’t make it right. Abby pushed the unwelcome memories away. She was three thousand miles away from her past. No one here need ever know what she had done. Abby smiled at her friend. “Once we start work on the expansion, I can raise prices because the ladies who choose to invest will also be receiving part of the profit.”

  “And that might encourage the others to do the same?”

  Abby nodded. “That will be an option. The more investors, the more we can do. I’ve done a lot of thinking about how I want to expand and what I want to include. If it works out, everyone will stand to gain.”

  “And what does your man say about all this?” Delia asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Luke is not my man.” Abby felt her face warm even as she spoke. “He’s my business partner as I’ve told you before.”

  Delia shrugged. “Doesn’t mean he can’t be both.”

  “You really do have a one-track mind.”

  Delia grinned, clearly unfazed. “You moped around the boarding house those two weeks he didn’t call.”

  “I did not mope!” At least, she hoped she hadn’t. Dear Lord! The last thing she needed to be doing was falling in love with Luke Cameron. Abby started. Where in the world had that thought come from? Just because he’d started spending more time at the store recently wasn’t reason for her to start conjuring up fantasies. He wasn’t one of those knights from King Arthur’s court that her mother used to tell her stories of. He certainly wasn’t going to pledge devotion to her, or anything. “I did not mope.”

  “All right, if you say so.” Delia sounded totally unconvinced. “But I think planning the expansion would be a good way to spend some time with the man.” She grinned again. “Just the two of you.”

  Abby felt her cheeks heat once more. “You really are incorrigible.”

  “I’m also right.” Delia helped herself to one of the meringue confections. “So when are you going to talk to him?”

  Abby sighed. It was no use trying to persuade Delia otherwise. And perhaps she didn’t really want to if that odd, tingly sensation in stomach were an indication. “Soon. I’ll talk to Luke soon.”

  ♦◊♦

  “You wanted to see me?” Luke asked as he poked his head inside the door to the small office a couple of days later.

  Abby looked up from the ledger she was studying. “Yes. Come in. Close the door please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She didn’t have to say please. Luke bit back a grin as he did as he was told. If the woman wanted to be alone with him in a small space, he wasn’t going to complain. The two weeks he’d tried to keep his distance had failed in cooling his ardor. Expecting to get a chill under a hot desert sun would have been a more reasonable outcome. So now he figured maybe he should reverse course. Maybe being in her company—in close company—would do the trick. Maybe.

  Somehow, he doubted the desire that had built up in those two weeks would be sated by sitting across the desk from her. He took the straight-back chair and moved it around to her side, turning it around so he could straddle it. He leaned his arms on the back.

  “What would you like?”

  Abby blinked “What would I like?”

  He knew he should rephrase the question, but he couldn’t help pushing the boundaries a little. Just to see where a bit of flirtation might go.

  “What would you like me to do to—for—you?”

  The innuendo, stupid as it was, didn’t go unnoticed if the pinkish flush to her cheeks was any clue. He had the most absurd urge to grin like an idiot. “You asked to see me.”

  “Ah. Yes. So I did.”

  She appeared flustered and he managed to refrain from a self-satisfied smirk. If he could rattle her with an innocuous comment or two, maybe she harbored a few carnal thoughts herself under that veneer of reserve she wore like her high-necked calico dresses. He’d found women who appeared calm and collected in public were usually the most passionate in bed. Not that he intended to pursue this madness that far. But damn, two weeks’ absence and he might as well have been a chunk of iron ore and she a magnet.

  “Are we going to spend the rest of the afternoon together?”

  Abby blinked again, then shook her head. “This shouldn’t take that long.”

  “Take as long as you like.” He gave her an infectious smile, one that usually worked. “I happen to have the rest of the day free.”

  She frowned instead. Obviously re-focusing, she turned the ledger around for him to see. “The profits from the tea and spices have been very good.”

  “I know that.” Luke tilted his head. Abby certainly wasn’t acting coy—she hadn’t exactly responded the way he’d hoped to the smile, but why the hell would she call him in here to tell him something that was obvious? He knew when the shipments arrived and the quantity as much as Abby did. He glanced at the door again. She was the one who’d asked him to close it. Perhaps subtlety wasn’t the direction to take. Abby was a direct person. Luke leaned closer over the chair’s back
.

  “Why do you want to be alone with me?”

  Her eyes widened, her face turned bright pink, her mouth opened, then snapped shut. Then, she practically sputtered. “I wanted to discuss starting the expansion to the store. It’s time.”

  If he had been a balloon and someone had stuck a pin in him, his pride could not have deflated more quickly. While his head had entertained lustful thoughts, she had been thinking about business. Lucifer’s horns. Maybe he needed to visit a brothel and take care of his urges.

  “I haven’t had the chance to do the paperwork yet.” He was hoping with word getting around, the damn accomplice might start nosing around. “I thought I might give it a few more weeks.”

  “There’s not need to do that.” Abby opened a drawer and stuck her hand in to withdraw another ledger. “I’ve been keeping track of—ouch!”

  “Don’t move!” Lightning-quick reflexes that he’d honed as a gunfighter instinctively came into play. In one fluid movement, Luke rose, pushing the chair down with one hand while the other made a sweeping movement across the desk that sent the ledger flying. An instant later, his boot stomped the scorpion that was trying to scuttle away. He turned to see Abby clutching her hand. Two strides had him by her side.

  “Did it get you?”

  “I’m…not sure. I started to feel a sting—”

  “Let me see.” He took her hand, turning it over. He ran his finger over a tiny red dot. “Does this hurt?”

  “Only a little.” She tried to pull her hand away. “I think you knocked it off before it could do much damage.”

  He didn’t release her hand. “How the hell did a scorpion get inside that drawer?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve taken the ledgers out of that drawer lots of times. There’s never been even a spider in there.” Abby smiled and brushed her other hand along his cheek. “But I owe you much thanks.”

  Her touch was his undoing. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and drew her closer. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t resist. “I can think of a way to say thank you,” he said, and then lowered his mouth to hers.