Wild Western Women Ride Again: Western Historical Romance Boxed Set

by Kirsten Osbourne

  “Oh, he was one of those scholarly types. All books.”

  “He was a weightlifter.”

  “Honey, I lift weights every day when I pick up a barrel of whiskey. Weightlifting is not impressive. Most men do it all the time,” Jack said, patting her arm and gazing down at her.

  She laughed. “Adam was tall and skinny, but Elizabeth loved him with all her heart, and they seemed happy. That’s more than I can say about most people.”

  Their shoes made a clomping noise as they walked along the wooden sidewalk headed toward the mercantile, away from the restaurant and the saloon. The evening breeze blew cool for the first time that day, and Abigail knew in the coming months even after the sun went down the breeze would still be hot. But for now, she was enjoying the night air.

  “Most couples appear happy in public; it’s the scenes behind closed doors that expose the truth.”

  That was revealing. It sounded like he knew from personal experience and had witnessed an unhappy couple. Could it have been his family?

  She didn’t know anything about his clan. All night long he’d never said a word that would divulge his background.

  Just then, they arrived at the front door of the store. She wanted to invite him in and ask him about his kin, but she knew that wouldn’t be proper, and her reputation was already notorious. She didn’t need to add insult to injury.

  She turned to face him. “Tonight was the best time I’ve had since I arrived in New Hope. Thank you for such an entertaining evening.”

  Nodding, he moved closer to her. “You certainly keep things lively. I couldn’t believe Henrietta had to run us out of the restaurant. I had a good time.”

  A bug landed on her cheek, and he swiped it away, touching her skin in the process. Heat shimmered through her, and she stared up at him in surprise. “I should go in. The skeeters are getting bad.”

  “It’s late,” he said breathlessly, his eyes gazing at her with what appeared to be longing. The longing she’d been fighting all night long. They were enemies. They were on opposite sides of the cause, yet she’d enjoyed being with him tonight.

  He leaned down and his mouth touched hers gently. Shock filtered through her, but it was a pleasant surprise, and she slanted toward him, her hands reaching out and grasping his arms to hold on. His lips moved over hers, his tongue caressing her, and she opened up to him. He pulled her into his body, and she could feel the hard muscles beneath his shirt. She’d been kissed before, but never like this, never like he wanted to consume her, to eat her up in the process. A raging heat built in her center like a slow fire. Nothing like she’d ever felt with any man.

  Then suddenly he released her mouth. She opened her eyes slowly to find his big hazel eyes gazing into hers.

  He smiled. “You are trouble.”

  She released him.

  He stepped back and tipped his hat to her. “Good night, Abigail.”

  “Good night, Jack. I’m a good kind of trouble.”

  She could hear him laughing as he walked down the street. What had she just done? She’d kissed the mayor, and she’d liked the feel of his lips on hers. She liked the mayor.

  ***

  The next day, Jack was not surprised when two of the city council members showed up in his saloon, the worst two city councilmen.

  “Jack, heard you had dinner with Miss Vanderhooten last night. Any luck on convincing her to sell that store?”

  Jack leaned across the bar. “Hello, gentlemen, good day to you. Are you interested in having a drink?”

  “Thank you, but I don’t drink, Jack,” Samuel O’Brien said, glancing around uneasily in the saloon. “The women in this town are gathering behind Miss Vanderhooten. We don’t need them all riled up because we’re forcing her out of town.”

  Jack gazed at Tim Barton who stood with his arms crossed, frowning. Both of these council members would love to see someone other than Jack be mayor. In fact, he’d beaten Tim out of the position, and the man was eager for the next showdown.

  “You should have already shut her down,” Tim accused, glaring at Jack like he was a gunman. “Her father knew the law and should have found her a husband before he died.”

  “It’s her livelihood. It’s how she earns money to take care of herself. Her father was a respected member of this town, and I refuse to do anything to dishonor his memory. Not to mention our citizens buy their supplies from her mercantile.”

  If the women in this town heard Tim disrespecting Walter, they would be stringing him up by his toes. Walter Vanderhooten had been a friend to many women. A good listener, there to help with buying their supplies, he was not the person Tim should be badmouthing.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s against the law.”

  “Well, maybe she’s right. It’s an outdated law,” Jack said, wishing this would all just go away. Everything, except Abigail. He’d enjoyed last night’s kiss. He’d enjoyed that delectable mouth of hers and the way they had spared over dinner.

  Sam’s eyes widened. “You can’t take her side.”

  They would love to pin this on him, so they could use it against him at reelection.

  “I’m not. You’re right. It’s against our current law, but until I have made sure all other recourse has been pursued, I’m not shutting her down.”

  “You’ve got to do something,” Tim said, stepping closer, a surly look on his face. “Our women are taking her side. My own wife is telling me we’re being ridiculous to shut down the town’s only store. I’ve forbidden her to shop at the mercantile, and she’s told me I can drive the wagon over to the next town if I don’t like her shopping there. In fact, I can do the shopping and the cooking as far as she’s concerned.”

  Jack had to restrain the laugh he felt building up inside him. This overbearing, egotistical, cold-hearted man had the sweetest wife. He’d wondered for years how the woman lived with the religious fanatic who treated his wife more like a slave than a lover.

  “Yes, and MaryAnn told me if I helped shut the mercantile down, I could sleep out in the barn. We don’t need this kind of rebellion from our women. They are to obey their husbands, take care of their families, and be God-fearing, church-going women,” Sam said.

  Part of Jack agreed the women should be God-fearing and church-going, but another part of him wondered how it had gotten this way. Weren’t married couples supposed to work together rather than have the man hold control over the woman as if she were a child instead of an adult capable of making decisions?

  “Now, don’t be too quick to judge,” he answered. “I believe Miss Vanderhooten has been in church each and every Sunday since she’s been home. She even volunteered to visit the widow women, if you recall.”

  “Attending Sunday service and being a follower of our laws are two different things. She needs to sell that store, get married, or get out of town. And frankly, I’m just fine with her leaving town. I’ll even buy her a one-way ticket on the next stage,” Tim said, a smug smile on his face like he was being generous.

  Oh, if he only knew the suffragettes were on their way to their fair city, the man would probably drop dead right there in Jack’s saloon, and Jack didn’t need the kind of attention that would cause.

  “You’ve got the town dividing into factions, Mayor. It’s the men against the women. We don’t need that in our city, our businesses, and most of all not in our homes. Get rid of this girl or shut her down,” Sam insisted.

  These two would run her out of town tonight if they knew the other women like Abigail were arriving soon. Come what may, he was going to have to protect Abigail, and he knew she wasn’t going to like him watching out for her or even having the sheriff keep an eye on her.

  “Gentleman, you’re going to have to settle down and give me a little more time. This will be settled at the city council meeting next week. Something will be decided by that time. So sit back, pacify your wives, and wait.” And rest for the coming storm because like a hurricane, it was headed in their direction.

&nb
sp; Tim shook his head. “I don’t like waiting that long. You should have done something before now. But since you’re mayor and I’m not, we’ll do this your way. But reelection is coming up next year. And this is a clear case of lack of leadership on your part.”

  Until Tim Barton had decided to run for mayor, Jack had never considered city politics, but the man was cold and ruthless, and Jack was afraid of what Tim would have done to their fair city.

  Jack smiled and leaned across the bar. “You do that, Tim. Just because I don’t want to throw a young woman out in the street and sell her birthright, doesn’t mean I lack leadership. It means I have a heart, which I’m fairly certain you’re missing. I will see you gentlemen at the city council meeting, unless you’d like to buy a drink, and then I’m more than happy to pour you a whiskey.”

  Just then, the piano player started banging the keys on the piano. The music was loud enough it ended the conversation. Jack needed to give that man a raise.

  Tim started to say something when Sam pushed him toward the exit. Jack couldn’t help but wish the swinging doors would slap both of them in the rear end as they left.

  Chapter Five

  Abigail had not been able to stop thinking about that kiss all day. She’d found herself working in the store, humming, and then she’d stop and touch her lips and wonder what had made his kiss so different? She hadn’t wanted him to stop caressing her. In fact, she’d wanted him to continue.

  Why Jack Turner? What about him made her think about the way his mouth moved across her own, the probing of his tongue, and the way he’d held her tight against him? She liked his smile, the way he laughed, and how he seemed smart. Smarter than she’d expected for a bartender. Yet, he was still determined to shut her down, and that could never happen.

  They were on opposite sides, and she would do well to remember that, regardless of the way he made her feel.

  She walked outside and glanced down the sidewalk. When her father built the mercantile, he’d made the building large enough that he could either expand the store or he could rent out sections to other shop owners. Right now, there three empty sections with her store in the middle.

  This morning she’d awoken to the fact that none of the other women would be able to rent places in town when they arrived. Yet, she had the capability of renting to at least three of the women, maybe more.

  Staring down the street, she saw the saloon where Jack tended bar. With her purse in hand, she strolled toward his business, eager to confront the handsome man. She waved to several women she knew from church. When she reached Jack’s saloon, she could hear the music spilling out the doors. It was just past two in the afternoon, and she didn’t think it would be very busy, but she had to show him he couldn’t get the upper hand. Though last night he’d certainly made progress, she was here to take back the power.

  She twisted her reticule in her hands then pushed through the swinging doors. With her shoulders squared, her head held high, and her bonnet strings tied tightly beneath her chin, she walked into the saloon like she belonged here.

  The music screeched to a halt as all the men stared at her in amazement. She’d entered the men’s forbidden territory once again.

  Jack swore and shook his head. “What are you doing? You know this is against the law.”

  “I’ve come to pay you a visit,” she said grinning, getting just the kind of reaction she wanted from him. Feeling like a rose in the desert, she noticed the glances she was receiving were not exactly welcoming.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here,” he said.

  She shrugged and took a seat on a stool at the bar, showing him she was here to stay. “It’s another one of those archaic laws that needs to change. I’d like to order a drink please.”

  “Are you old enough?” he teased.

  “Of course,” she said.

  “What if we don’t serve alcohol to women?”

  “Then I’m not leaving until I get a drink. I would think you would want me to get out of here quickly.”

  He laughed. “If we don’t allow women in here, then we certainly don’t sell them a drink.”

  “Are you going to get me a drink or not?” she asked. She wanted to demonstrate to him how out of date these types of laws were. If a woman wanted a drink, she should be able to get one.

  “I’m breaking the city ordinance serving you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  With a shrug, he said, “Okay, what is it you want?”

  Other than drinking a little sherry, she had no idea what hard alcohol tasted like. “I don’t know. What’s good?”

  “Oh, there are a lot of liquors that are good. But the key is knowing what you want.”

  “What do most men order?”

  “Whiskey,” he said.

  “I’ll take one, please.”

  “You don’t want to do this,” he said shaking his head, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement.

  An uncomfortable feeling of being out of place had assailed her the moment she sank onto the bar stool, but she ignored the persistent warning. “If a man can drink it, so can a woman.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But I’m warning you. You’re not going to like the liquor.”

  “Just pour the drink.” She watched as he pulled a bottle off the shelves and splashed the alcohol into the glass then slid it over to her. “Thank you, how much do I owe you?”

  “This one’s on the house.”

  “No. I wanted to buy it to repay you for dinner last night. You bought candy in my store and my dinner. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Dinner was on me. The drink is on the saloon.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but after this one, I’ll take another one, and I want to buy it, so I’ve helped your business, so we’re even.”

  “Just get through the first one,” he said laughing.

  She knew what he was thinking. He didn’t think she could get the first one down. Picking up the glass, she brought it to her lips, and the smell just about knocked her off the stool. Doubts about what she was doing assailed her. She glanced up at Jack. “How do you drink this?”

  He poured himself a glass. He lifted his snifter and clinked it against hers. “Bottoms up.”

  She watched him drink the liquor in one gulp.

  “That’s how.”

  “Oh, my,” she said. “I thought you would sip it.”

  “Not whiskey.”

  Picking up the snifter, she put it to her lips and drank it one big gulp. Fire spread through her mouth to her lungs and her chest and she gasped. She couldn’t breathe. Tears welled up in her eyes and she coughed.

  Jack ran around the counter and patted her on the back. “Why do you think you have to do everything a man does? Some things are better left alone.”

  She straightened her back and glared at him. Once she could breathe again, she wanted to slap that smart comment right back into his brain, but she would do even better. She took a deep breath. “Give me another drink.”

  “No.”

  “Mr. Turner, I am a paying customer.” She dug the money out of her reticule and slapped it down on the counter. “Another whiskey.”

  He sighed. “All right, but in a moment you’re going to start feeling the effects of the alcohol. You’re a novice, and one drink would have probably made you feel woozy, but two drinks are going to make you soft as butter.”

  Interesting theory, but still she was not going to let the man win one over on her. She would prevail and come out ahead. “That’s no concern of yours. I’m quite capable of walking back to my store.”

  “Sure you are,” he said in that sarcastic tone she was beginning to recognize.

  She watched him pour her another drink, gazing at his lips and wondering if he would kiss her again. That had felt good. Really good. Tilting her head, she questioned if he had some magical trick he did when he kissed a woman. The smooches she’d experienced in college had been dull. In fact, most of them had been downright gross. Just a slobbering
mashing of two mouths so that most of the time she’d wanted to wipe the back of her hand across her lips to clear the taste. But Jack’s were different, much different and much better.

  She picked up the glass and gulped the liquor. This time the burn was slower, and in fact, delicious warmth spread through her chest. She licked her lips and set the empty back on the counter. “You know if I was to drink a couple more of those, they wouldn’t be half bad.”

  “Oh no, you’ve had enough for a beginner. I think it’s time for me to walk you back to the store because very soon you’re going to feel the effects of that liquor, and you’re going to regret those drinks.”

  Frowning at him, she wondered why the hurry? She was enjoying his company. “Why don’t you show me your business? I’d like to see how it operates.”

  He picked up the two glasses and put them away. “You are always so curious. Maybe some other time when you can remember what I show you.”

  “I’ll remember it now,” she said, her lips not wanting to work properly. She touched her fingers to her mouth. They felt numb. What had she done?

  “Tell me that in about ten minutes. Come on, let’s get you home,” he said, walking around the counter and taking her by the arm.

  Sliding off the bar stool, she stood and arranged her dress, then smiled at him. When she took the first step, her legs felt a little wobbly. Like her knees were turning to mush and would soon collapse. “Oh, my.”

  Glancing at her, he frowned. “You okay?”

  She grinned at him. There was no need to worry the poor man, and she would soon be back at the mercantile. “Of course, I am. Let’s go.”

  The first few steps were good. She marched through the saloon. “Goodbye, gentlemen. Maybe I’ll come back and have another drink soon.”

  They all frowned at her. Why were men so grumpy all the time? Didn’t they know women were fun? Didn’t they enjoy the company and attention of a woman?

  She ran smack dab into the door. A giggle rose up inside her, and she bent over laughing. “Oh, my.”

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked.