Cowboy Charm School

Home > Romance > Cowboy Charm School > Page 11
Cowboy Charm School Page 11

by Margaret Brownley


  It wasn’t that Frank was completely without manners, but the first Mrs. Foster had died soon after she and her husband had adopted Frank. His father hadn’t remarried until Frank was in his late teens. Having been raised in a masculine household, Frank lacked the usual social skills, but that had never bothered Kate. In fact, she’d never really thought about it.

  Until now.

  Settling on the leather seat, Kate tucked her skirt around her and clutched her purse in her lap. She wasn’t sure how to act in Tucker’s presence, and that was odd. In the past, she’d always felt comfortable in male company, but then most men had treated her like a sister or friend. The ranger was different. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but she felt very much a woman around him, and was very much aware of his maleness. Sisterhood was the furthest thing from her mind.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat next to her. They eyed each other for a moment. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” she said.

  Without another word, he shook the reins and clicked his tongue. The buggy rolled forward, and a gentle breeze cooled her flaming face.

  Finding it easier to breathe now, Kate tried to relax. But a moment later, she was distracted by the brush of his leg against hers. If that wasn’t worrisome enough, his hands on the reins reminded her of the feel of his hand on her shoulder. It also made her recall the day she’d laid her head on his broad, manly chest.

  Confused by such thoughts, she concentrated on the road ahead. What was the matter with her? She had no business dwelling on such things. It wasn’t like her to act like a silly schoolgirl with her first crush. The stress of preparing for the wedding and her subsequent broken betrothal had evidently taken a toll. As for Mr. Brett Tucker…they had nothing in common. Considering the excitement of his job, he probably found her dull and boring.

  Satisfied that she now had her thoughts, if not her nervousness, under control, she lifted her gaze. It was a perfect night for a spring dance. The sun had set, and stars began dotting the deep-purple sky.

  Kate made a silent wish upon the brightest star. In years past, her wish had always been the same: to provide an infirmary for injured animals. But, Frank’s sensitivity to fur and feathers had ended that dream. Now she just wished for a home and family of her own.

  “Warm enough?” Tucker asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Yes, thank you.” She studied his profile. “You said earlier that you needed my help.”

  He glanced at her. “I don’t know if you’d heard, but the stagecoach was held up again.”

  “Yes, I did hear that,” she said. That’s all the day’s customers had talked about.

  “I wasn’t able to get a very good description of the robbers, but one seems to have a sweet tooth. According to a witness, he smelled of peppermint.”

  “Peppermint?”

  “That’s what she said. He was wearing a flour sack over his head, so I don’t know if it’s possible to smell one’s breath through that, but she was adamant. I checked, and you’re the only one in town who sells candy.”

  Kate knitted her brow. “Are you saying that one of my customers robbed a stage?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  Shuddering at the thought, she gripped her purse. She hated the idea that someone she knew, someone who’d patronized her shop, someone with whom she’d exchanged pleasantries and maybe even a laugh, could be an outlaw. Silly as it seemed, she’d always found people with a sweet tooth to be friendlier than those with blander tastes. That was hardly a quality that led to crime.

  “I can’t imagine any of my customers robbing a stage,” she said.

  “It’s been my experience that most outlaws look like ordinary people. You wouldn’t know by looking at them that they lead a double life. My company recently broke up a gang led by a former Methodist preacher. So, you see? You never can tell.”

  Aware, suddenly, that the ribbon at her cape’s neckline had come loose, Kate worked the length of satin into a bow. “It’s still hard to believe. I mean…I’ve known most of my customers for years. Some are even second- and third-generation customers. They’re good people.”

  “I’m sorry, but…I still have to check it out. It’s my job.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “Would it be possible to give me a list of customers who purchased peppermint candy in the last, say, month or so?”

  “I’d be happy to draw up such a list, but I’m not sure how complete it would be. Peppermint is one of my most popular candies.”

  “I’d be obliged for whatever you can do.” They drove in silence for a mile or so before Tucker spoke again. “Being that you agreed to attend the dance with Foster, does that mean you and he are patching things up?”

  She turned the question over in her mind before answering. “I don’t know. He’s trying hard to change his ways, but…”

  Kate felt his gaze on her. “But…?”

  She hesitated. It seemed odd to be talking to the ranger about something so personal, but he seemed receptive and interested. “Lately, he’s like a different person.”

  “Oh? In what way?”

  “In many ways.” Strange as it seemed, the changes in Frank had also revealed a new side of herself. Though she’d previously scoffed at such things, she’d discovered she enjoyed being treated like a lady. She’d liked receiving flowers and had reread the note so many times that it felt as if each word had been branded into her heart. She liked even more knowing that Frank appreciated her ability to doctor injured animals.

  “He’s so much more thoughtful and…caring,” she said.

  “Is that so bad?”

  “No, of course not. It’ll just take some getting used to.”

  “Like you said, he’s trying.”

  “I know.” That was one of the reasons Kate felt so torn. It was hard to stay angry at Frank when he was knocking himself out to please her. “What about you?” she asked, anxious to change the subject. “Ever think about settling down?”

  “Me?” he asked as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Nah. That would mean giving up my job, and I can’t imagine doing anything else. These bones were meant to roam.”

  His answer was no more than what she had expected. Nevertheless, a sudden crush of disappointment caught her off guard. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she gazed straight ahead.

  A soft glow of light revealed the town of Haywire. They rode in silence for a moment before she asked, “Have you had any luck finding the man you’re looking for? The other Foster?”

  “Not yet,” Tucker said, “but I think he might be a member of the Ghost Riders.”

  “Really? The one who smelled of peppermint?”

  “Could be. Him or one of his men.” Kate heard his intake of breath before he continued. “There was a similar crime wave a few years back in San Antone. After each robbery, the gang vanished without a trace, and one day, they disappeared altogether.”

  “And you think this is the same gang?” she asked.

  The gas streetlight they passed turned his probing eyes into liquid gold. “There’re a lot of similarities. Coincidently, the robberies stopped the day Frank Foster left town.”

  Kate still couldn’t get used to the idea that her Frank shared his name with an outlaw. “You said he was responsible for your sister’s death.”

  “He was her husband. When he took off without a word, he broke her heart. She wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t sleep. She finally came down with pneumonia and died. I blame him for her death.”

  “That’s…that’s so sad.” She studied Tucker’s handsome profile. “Why do you suppose he took off?”

  “Before Foster left town, there was a robbery that turned bad. Originally, four men were involved. But one of the thieves was shot and captured. We hoped he would give us the names of the other three men. Unfortunately, he
died before he had a chance. I think the death explains why there’re only three men now. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if there was still another one pulling the strings.”

  “If one of them really is the man you’re looking for, he must know you’re in town. You haven’t exactly been anonymous, you know. Your name was in the paper.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that he’d know my name. I call Alice my sister, but that’s only half right. We actually had different fathers and different last names. Foster knew her as Alice Taylor, and he and I never met. I was up north when they got married and missed the wedding.” Tucker frowned as he stared at the road ahead. “Sorry to bore you with all my troubles.”

  “Nothing you say is boring,” Kate said.

  He caught her gaze with his own. “I wouldn’t have told you all this if I didn’t trust you to keep a confidence. I don’t want Foster getting wind of who I really am.”

  “Everyone in town knows you’re a Texas Ranger,” she pointed out. “Your man must know why you’re here.”

  “I don’t think the law worries him, but a personal vendetta might. If he knew I was here on my sister’s behalf, he might run.”

  Kate drew in her breath. He had no way of knowing how much his trust in her meant. Uncle Joe had believed there was no greater compliment than being trusted by another. That was why Frank’s unfounded accusations had hurt so much.

  “I hope you catch him soon,” she said.

  “I just hope I catch him before he leaves town.” Tucker glanced askance at her. “Or before I cause another couple to break up.”

  Turning her attention to the distant lights, Kate moistened her lips. “You might have done us a favor.”

  “Oh?”

  She met his questioning gaze. “It’s given us a chance to…decide if marriage is right for us.”

  “He cares for you deeply,” Tucker said. “You know that, right?”

  She nodded. She did know that. He just didn’t trust her—or at least hadn’t in the past—and trust was vital in keeping the bonds of love strong. “I care for him too.”

  Sighing, she looked up at the spatter of bright, twinkling stars. Why did it suddenly seem that caring for each other might not be enough?

  13

  Brett drew his rented horse and buggy behind a long line of wagons, buggies, and carriages and set the brake.

  During the last mile or so, he’d sensed a sudden change of mood in Kate. His effort to keep the conversation going had solicited only one-syllable responses. Was she having second thoughts about attending tonight’s affair with Foster? Or was it the fact that maybe one or more of her customers might be members of the Ghost Riders?

  He jumped to the ground and ran around to the passenger side to help her down, but she had already climbed out of the buggy herself. Avoiding his eyes, she straightened her wrap and fluffed out her skirt.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  This time she did look at him. The rising moon turned her eyes into stars and cast a dewy glow upon her full, moist lips. “Yes,” she said. “Thank you for the ride.”

  Surprised to find himself wishing things were different—wishing he was her escort for real, wishing he could dance the night away with her in his arms—Brett cleared his throat and smoothed down the front of his vest.

  “Shall we?” he asked, crooking his elbow.

  She hesitated a moment before slipping her arm through his. Together, they walked toward the barn’s blazing lights, and he felt like the luckiest man alive. His elation lasted only as long as it took to remind himself once again that he was a temporary escort. The moment they walked through the barn door, he would lose her to Foster.

  Fiddle music filled the air, along with the sounds of pounding feet and bursts of laughter.

  Just as they reached the barn, she pulled her arm away. It felt all wrong, as if she had taken part of him with her.

  Frank met them at the door as they had rehearsed. Dressed in full “war paint,” including a red bow tie and matching suspenders, he didn’t look half bad. It helped that his eyes were no longer swollen shut, but he’d also slicked down his hair and combed it to the side.

  “You look mighty handsome, Kate,” Foster said, giving her a playful punch on the arm as though he were greeting a male friend.

  Brett grimaced. Handsome? Kate was the most beautiful woman in the room, and that was the best Foster could do?

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, accepting the sorry excuse for a compliment with goodwill.

  Brett cleared his throat, and when Foster failed to take the hint, he gave a short cough—an agreed-upon gesture that action was needed. The man’s memory was as short as the tail-hold of a bear.

  Brett coughed again. Finally, recognition flared in Foster’s eyes, suggesting he’d remembered what they’d practiced.

  “Pretty!” Foster exclaimed, making Kate jump. “You look as pretty as…as…as…newly tanned leather.”

  It wasn’t the kind of compliment Brett had in mind, but he let it pass. Pretty was better than handsome, no matter how Foster defined it.

  Kate looked surprised, and two spots of red flared on her cheeks. “Why…thank you, Frank.” She flashed a smile before asking, “How’s the goat?”

  Foster looked baffled. “Goat?”

  “The one you brought to my house,” she said.

  “Oh, that goat. Uh…” Foster glanced at Brett. “Fine, fine. Completely healed.”

  The news brought a smile to Kate’s face, and Brett felt his heart practically turn over. “That’s good to hear,” she said.

  A young woman rushed over to join them, her sausage curls bouncing up and down like tight little springs. “Oh my,” she gushed. Pressing her hands together, she looked at Brett with fluttering eyelashes before turning to Kate. “Does this mean that you and Frank are a couple again?”

  Kate looked as though she didn’t know how to answer. Perhaps she was having second thoughts after being compared to newly tanned leather. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

  The fiddler started thumping his strings, a signal that the short break was over and the dancing was about to begin again. Brett rushed to Kate’s rescue by directing the woman’s attention to himself. “Would you care to dance, Miss—?”

  She giggled. “Hopkins,” she said. “Cynthia Hopkins.”

  “Brett Tucker,” he said.

  He crooked his elbow, and Miss Hopkins shoved her arm through his. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said. Staring at Foster, he inclined his head ever so slightly toward Kate. When Foster failed to take the hint, Brett coughed again. This time he both nodded his head and rolled his eyes in Kate’s direction.

  As far as social mores were concerned, Foster was as helpless as a cow in quicksand, but he finally got the message and asked Kate to dance.

  Satisfied that things were going as planned, Brett led Miss Hopkins onto the sawdust-covered dance floor. He tried his best to be an attentive partner and make sense of her endless prattle, but his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. He watched Kate and Frank like an overanxious parent. Though Brett had circled his partner around the dance floor several times, Frank and Kate hadn’t moved from the same spot.

  Frank’s idea of dancing was to sway from side to side and then rock back and forth, barely moving his feet. Brett cringed every time it appeared Frank had stepped on Kate’s dainty slippers. He’d been so busy rehearsing Foster on what to say and how to win back Kate’s heart that he’d completely forgotten to ask if the man could dance.

  “Am I right, Mr. Tucker?”

  He drew his gaze back to his partner. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” He felt bad for letting his mind wander. “You were saying?”

  She frowned. “I know where I saw you before. You’re the man who messed up Kate’s wedding. Am I right?”

  The remi
nder made him grimace. “I’m afraid so. It’s not something I’m proud of. Let’s hope that a happy announcement is in the works.”

  Miss Hopkins’s gaze wandered over to Foster and Kate. “I hope for Kate’s sake the announcement includes a promise from Frank to quit dancing.”

  Brett chuckled. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  The music stopped, and a man with a sweeping mustache clapped his hands and yelled in a leather-lunged voice, “Time to change partners, folks!”

  Shuffling feet and swirling skirts followed the command as everyone rushed around to partner up with someone new. It took some fancy footwork on Brett’s part to reach Kate’s side before anyone else did. He only hoped that Foster would play his part the way they’d practiced.

  “May I?” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Kate hesitated. Her big, blue eyes said yes, but something held her back. No doubt she was worried that Foster’s jealous streak would flare up and he would make a scene.

  Brett cleared his throat. Come on, Foster. This is your big moment. Do it the way we practiced. It took much in the way of visual prodding and clearing his throat before Foster finally got the hint.

  “Sure, go ahead,” Frank said, looking like he’d bitten into a lemon. It wasn’t how they’d practiced it, but at least Foster got some of it right.

  Leading Kate away, Brett glanced over his shoulder at Foster. “Whistle,” he mouthed. Instead of showing his jealousy or acting it out, Foster was supposed to whistle. If his tuneless whistles didn’t chase the green-eyed monster away, nothing would.

  Brett turned back to face Kate, and it suddenly seemed imperative to recall his purpose in asking her to dance. It was the only way he could think to prove to her that Foster had conquered his jealousy or, at least, was trying to.

  Brett slipped his arm around her tiny waist and closed his fingers over her dainty, soft hand. She draped her arm over his shoulder and rewarded him with a brilliant smile that made him tingle inside.

  Though he was a good head taller than Kate, they seemed perfectly matched as he circled the dance floor effortlessly with her in his arms. His heart pounded, but fortunately the music muffled the sound. So this was how it felt to float on air.

 

‹ Prev