She returned his smile.
“I brought your…” She faltered. Was this his lunch or dinner? She should have noted the placement of the sun so she’d have an idea of what time it was. Damn. She was messing up already.
“Lunch!” he said, standing up. “What did Elmira make for me today, Miss Audrey?”
Ah. So he wasn’t her father. No father would casually address his daughter that way. Audrey set the tray on his desk and moved the napkin away. There were two plates, each with mashed potatoes—Audrey’s mouth watered, she hadn’t had potatoes since she was a girl—gravy and some sort of meatloaf. There were peas on the side and what looked to be a slice of cornbread half-dipped in the gravy. The whole presentation looked fabulous. Audrey wondered if the second plate was for her, but the sheriff cleared that up quickly, nodding toward the narrow hallway across from the door.
“He’s probably a mite hungry,” he said. “Ain’t had nothing since yesterday, near as I can tell. Course, he was drunk as a worm in a whiskey barrel when I picked him up last night.” The sheriff took one plate and cutlery off the tray and sat back down at his desk, digging right in.
After a moment, as Audrey stood there wondering what she was supposed to do, he gestured toward the hallway with his fork. “Go ahead, Miss Audrey. He’s safe. Door’s not even locked. I don’t think he’ll do you no harm. Seems like a peaceable sort, for all that carrying on last night, but if he gets fresh, you holler and I’ll come running.”
Audrey picked up the partially laden tray, licking her lips, wishing the wonderfully fragrant food was for her, and walked slowly toward the dark hallway. Her long dress swished as she walked, petticoats rubbing against her legs softly. She realized she was wearing a sun bonnet, and her hair was tucked up underneath. The ribbons at her throat held it securely. She was covered head to foot, very modestly, in brown, blue and cream calico.
A few bright sunbeams splashed the floor as she walked down the aisle—sunbeams shadowed by bars and grillwork. She was in the jail. Audrey’s steps slowed. It appeared that no one was in either cell to her left and right, but as she worked her way down the hall, she saw another shadow on the floor. There was a person in the third cell, on the left side of the jail.
As she approached, the fellow looked up, standing politely when he saw her. “Ma’am,” he said.
He had a deep, rich voice, slightly rough. She had longed to find someone with that kind of voice just so she could listen to it on her comm! She didn’t know if any current actors had that voice because she couldn’t afford the cost of entertainment vids, but she was glad to have heard it this time, even though this was only a dream.
“Hello.” She gestured with the tray. “I brought you your lunch.” Balancing the tray on her hip, she stood at the heavy cell door for a moment, undecided. He could be dangerous. But no, the sheriff hadn’t even locked the door. The man was there on his honor. That made him safe.
Well, nothing in this dream would harm her in real life, which comforted her nerves greatly. She opened the cell door with her free hand and he stepped back away a few feet. The cell was small, with only a bunk and a bucket, so he didn’t have very far to go to move away.
“I’m right grateful, Ma’am. Let me take that.” He took the tray and put it on the bunk, next to his battered hat.
He was chiseled and handsome. Obviously from a Native American background, if his burnished skin and dark eyes were any clue. He wore his hair long, straight, and touching his shoulders. He looked a little dusty and smelled like sweat and horses. The scent went straight to Audrey’s hindbrain and rang a bell. It was a peal that made her nipples hard and a flame begin to burn in her belly. Was this the man she hoped to have a crazy, make-believe affair with? She couldn’t remember dreaming up anyone specific, but she knew the Romantek chip had recorded everything for the last week.
No. This couldn’t be him. As appealing as he was, he was in jail, for charges she wasn’t sure about. Probably not serious crimes, or the door would have been locked, but a miscreant nonetheless.
Still, this was her dream, so she’d stay and flirt for a moment, drinking in his beauty, that voice, and his intoxicating scent.
“I’m afraid I ain’t got a chair to offer, Ma’am, if you’re fixing to stay.” He smiled, even white teeth flashing.
How could she prolong this meeting? “I need to stay to take the plate back,” she prevaricated.
“Oh. Well, I’d best get to the meal then. Do you mind watching me eat? Do you want to share with me?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m not hungry. But you go ahead.”
He nodded and sat down on the bunk, taking the tray into his lap. He ate like every bite was a joy and a blessing. Apparently, he hadn’t had a good meal in a while. Audrey wondered about him.
“Are you from around here?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I come from Texas. I ain’t been in Nebraska territory for long. You from here?”
She could honestly answer yes. Wryly, she thought she’d come thousands of miles and deep into a dream to end up back home again in Nebraska. Apparently, her subconscious wasn’t terribly creative. “Yes. Close by. What’s your name?”
“White Star Smith,” he told her. “Yours?”
“Audrey Beacon.”
“Well, Miss Audrey, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Why are you in jail?”
“I put a hole in Joe’s Saloon last night. Guess I had a mite too much to drink, I don’t remember much after I punched some mouthy farmer in the snoot. Got myself into this trouble, that’s for sure. But the sheriff says he’ll let me out this afternoon after I learn my lesson.” His smile was a little embarrassed but charming.
“I guess you’re on your best behavior until then.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her an appreciative but respectful look. “That’s a right purty dress, Miss Audrey.”
Touching her skirt, she smiled. “Thank you, White Star.”
“And a right purty girl in it, too.” There was a friendly twinkle in his eye. It didn’t feel threatening, just a gentle flirtation.
“Thank you.”
“You got the bluest eyes I ever seed.”
She blushed. She did have blue eyes, but they weren’t enhanced like many people did. She knew they would be nicer with some gold streaks, or even a neon burnt-orange ring like some enhanced eyes had. However, au naturel as she was in this setting, it made her feel special to have one of her plainer features flattered. “Thank you,” she whispered again.
His smile was genuine, infectious. “I’ve got a little time after I get out of here and before I head off back to Texas. Maybe I could visit with you a spell?”
He was so handsome, so sexy. Maybe, after all, he was the man she was destined to meet on this adventure. But was he being too forward for the time? How demure was she supposed to be? Well, heck, this was her dream. She could be as demure or as shameless as she wanted to. She screwed up her courage and answered. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Where do I find you later today?”
Where indeed? She wasn’t entirely sure, but she figured she’d recognize where she was supposed to go when she had to. Romantek wouldn’t expect her to wander around like an amnesiac. But she couldn’t give him directions to a place she’d never been before. “Well….”
“We could meet in a public place, if you like. I don’t have to come to your home. Why don’t you meet me in Miss Patty’s Hotel for supper?”
“All right.” Somehow, she’d find the hotel. How many could there be in this town?
“I can be there by five-thirty. Would that suit you?”
That could be six hours from now, she wasn’t sure, but she wanted to meet him. This could be her opportunity. The whole idea that she might seduce this strong, gorgeous man was both scary and extremely titillating. She could flirt, true enough, but could she really go the extra distance and have sex with him? The last time she’d had sex had been four years ago, and tha
t relationship hadn’t lasted because of work. It had been painful to break up and she was so not a seductress type. Still, it was well within Romantek rules to get involved with a dream guy, so she figured it was worth a try. This whole experience was like a game, and she wanted to win it!
“Okay. I’ll be there at five-thirty.”
He had long since put down his cutlery and now he stood with the tray. “Here you go, Miss Audrey.”
Taking the tray, she gave him what she hoped was a come-hither smile. “I’ll see you later.”
His grin was pure pleasure and a little bit wolfish. “Yes, Ma’am, you surely will.”
With that, she turned and left him, smiling to herself as he closed the cell door behind her. He appeared to be an honorable sort. Maybe a little naughty, considering how he had roughed someone up the night before, but a little wickedness in a man wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Chapter 2
Audrey waited in the lobby of Miss Patty’s Hotel. It was a respectable hotel—very mid-nineteenth-century—with striped wallpaper, a marble-topped table in the lobby, and a dark wood registration desk with little cubbies for keys. The hotel clerk, a man with a paunch, a pair of round spectacles, and a polite smile, looked at her for a moment and then went back to his duties. A few people came and went while she waited. They all looked so picturesque dressed up in their town clothes as if they were on their way to dinner or a jaunt around the boardwalks of the little burg. There were plenty of cowboys though, and some shopkeepers were scurrying around at their end-of-day errands. Farmers were heading out of town in wagons laden with supplies.
After a while, and not knowing the exact time, she thought she might be too early for her rendezvous. Not wearing a watch, she could have easily been off by more than a few minutes when she headed to Miss Patty’s. Audrey wandered out to the well-swept boardwalk to kill some time and try to calm her nerves. There wasn’t a lot of amusement value though. The town was small. Audrey could see the end of the street on both sides as she stood looking at the dusty boulevard and the various horses tied up along the way.
The boardinghouse where she lived and worked hadn’t been far from the sheriff’s office. Audrey realized she knew where it was when she was finished at the jail. Mrs. Elmira Brown was the widowed proprietress of the place. She was shrewd, but a kinder woman Audrey had never met before. She seemed unaffected by Audrey’s ineptitude in the kitchen, assigning her easy tasks that a child could do, and not expecting more. Audrey fetched and carried, she stirred, and she swept. The work was pleasant, as was the company. It was good to do some actual manual labor rather than the brain-intensive and frustrating administrative work she normally did in the twenty-second century. And it was a better workout than her apartment building gym provided.
Providentially, it was Audrey’s night off from the boardinghouse job, so she was in the clear for her date with White Star.
Now, as she stood watching, fewer and fewer people came out, and more and more men entered the saloon next door. Audrey noticed that there were no women entering the premises and she realized that respectable women were probably not allowed in. That seemed very discriminatory. Then she heard a woman’s voice shriek from inside. Was that a shriek in pain, or a shriek of delight? It was hard to tell. Still, Audrey couldn’t sit idly by if a woman was somehow being abused. The saloon might not be the place for women to be welcome, but one was inside and sounded upset. Did they hurt women who ventured in? Audrey wished for the tenth time that she were more familiar with this period! She had intended to study up on it, but as always, things were crazy at work as she prepared to go away for the week and she hadn’t had time to do anything but work and get a few hours of sleep each night.
The woman shrieked again. Was that laughter afterward? Nervous laughter, scared shrieks. Audrey bit her lip in consternation. In her time, she could go anywhere and do anything that a man could do. And this was her dream, her personal Romantek Adventure Vacation Experience, so she would do what she thought was right. Granted, she was not supposed to use modern language in the scenario—that was a rule and part of the game aspect of the RAVE—but nothing had been said about imposing some modern sensibilities on the place.
It took nearly all of her courage to do so, but Audrey straightened her skirt and her bonnet and strode up to the batwing doors of the bar as though she owned the place. With a deep breath, she pushed her way in.
It was teeming with cattlemen, farmers, and gamblers. A few men stood at the bar, guns at their hips. Others flirted with scantily clad barmaids, who obviously had dyed hair and false smiles. The air was smoky, and Audrey coughed a bit, drawing the attention of all the people in the saloon. No one was shrieking, or laughing by the time they saw her.
The place was silent, save the indrawn breaths of some of the patrons. Audrey didn’t quite know what to do. It looked like she had made an error in judgment and nothing bad was happening inside. But there she was. Should she turn around and run away? The twenty-second century Audrey surely would. What would the 1850s Audrey do? How much adventure was she willing to experience? She had always wanted to be more assertive. This was her chance, in a safe way. Clearing her throat and tightening her shoulders, Audrey barged her way through the crowd and bellied up to the bar.
“I’ll have whisky on the rocks,” she said bravely. She had never tasted a drop of whisky in her life but now was as good a time as any to try it.
The bartender eyed her as though she had sprouted another set of arms, putting down the bottle he had in his hand. “Rocks?”
“Ice?”
“Ain’t got no ice, lady, and you shouldn’t be here. Skeedaddle.”
“I-I have every right to be here,” she told him, hating the quaver in her own voice.
“No ma’am, you ain’t. So unless you’re planning on hiring yourself to the saloon, I suggest you hike your foolish tail out of here.”
Hiring herself to the saloon? Oh, being a barmaid. No, that would really cross the line. Besides, she already had the job that Romantek had provided with her dream. She stuck out her chin, stubbornly determined. “I demand that you serve me that whisky.”
The sheriff stood up from one of the tables, frowning at her, his thick, bushy moustache turned down at the corners. “Miss Audrey, you take yourself home.”
“Aw, let her stay,” said one cowpoke near the darkest corner.
“Get her out of here,” said someone at one of the tables.
Soon, everyone was speaking at once. The cowpoke from the corner came forward and punched a farmer who was protesting Audrey’s presence, and the fighting started in earnest.
Audrey looked on with horror and shock, but the bartender poked her in the shoulder and handed her a shot glass full of amber liquid. “Might as well drink up,” he said. “You’re going to need it.”
People were tumbling and breaking chairs and the girls were squealing and pushing people into each other. Two men with guns fired them off into the ceiling, and doors started slamming upstairs. Two half-naked women rushed down the stairs, right into the fighting crowd, getting lost in the sea of confusion nearly immediately.
Audrey gulped her whisky, coughing and sputtering as the liquid burned like molten metal on its way to her stomach. Even her nose burned. A moment after the girls had run down from upstairs, another person came into view on the landing, strapping his gun belt to his hips—White Star. Apparently, she had been early to their date, much as she thought, so he had been busy doing…something else, here at the bar.
He took one look around the craziness below him and Audrey tried to shrink away from the look of approbation and the deep frown growing on his chiseled, bronze face.
Audrey took a deep breath—the first one she had been able to draw since downing the whisky—and straightened her spine. She was not going to leave, no matter who frowned at her.
White Star, however, had different ideas. He stalked down the stairs and pushed his way through the crowd, punching one cowboy who rea
ched for Audrey. Then he took her by the arm and wrestled her out the doors onto the boardwalk. The mayhem continued behind them, one unfortunate fellow getting thrown through the doors and into the dusty street.
“Miss Audrey, you were the start of this, weren’t you? What in Sam Hill were you doing in there?”
“Saving someone from harm!”
He frowned down at her. The fighting noises from the bar were vigorous. It looked like she had done a goodly chunk of that harm all by herself.
“I thought…” The excuse seemed pretty lame, under the circumstances. She tried a different tack. “I was, getting a drink?” She cringed at the anger on his face and the further darkening of his brown-black eyes.
“You know decent women ain’t allowed in there!”
She nodded, feeling cowed. His irritation trumped any sense of triumph she had over getting served at the bar. “Yes, I guess so.”
“You guess so? I’ve got a mind to take you out to the livery and tan your hide.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, hell yes, I would!” He dragged her down the boardwalk, his grip on her upper arm sure and strong, but not particularly painful. “You come with me, girl!”
She resisted, but his pull was inexorable. He propelled her down the street and into a large barn where horses snorted at their approach. It smelled of sweet hay, horse manure, and leather. White Star started to take her in, and the stableman spoke. “White Star, what’s this? What are you up to, mister?”
“Just doing my civic duty,” White Star answered.
“Civic duty?”
“This young woman bellied up to the bar In Joe’s Saloon and caused a fight to break out. She deserves a licking and I aim to give it to her.”
“Ahem,” the young stableman said, turning beet red, obvious even in the shadows of the barn. “Well, I guess if that’s what you’re about, I ain’t going to stop you. I was on my way out to supper anyways.”
The Winner (Romantek) Page 2