by Nancy Pirri
“I closed those places with good reason,” James snapped.
“And good evidence,” the judge countered, “but not this time. So let’s leave it at that.”
As James watched the judge climb up onto the buckboard seat, flick the reins and leave, he wondered how he could have been so wrong. Why had he accused Katie?
He knew the answer; all he could think about was his mother’s desperate life—and how she’d died of the dreaded syphilis. God, he wouldn’t want that for Katie, and the only way he could protect her that he knew of—and other women in town—was to close down houses of ill repute.
But, now it seemed he’d made a mistake, and the Palace was legitimate. He hated himself for not having believed Katie when she told him she’d known nothing about her employees’ liaisons with the men. He hoped she’d accept his apology.
He waited outside for Katie while she finished up business with her solicitor. The man came out of the church first, gave a curt nod at him and went on his way. Katie came out shortly afterwards, pausing with a surprised look at him before averting her gaze.
“I thought you’d left,” she said.
The fact that she wouldn’t meet his eyes made him feel even worse. “It appears I owe you an apology,” he murmured, jamming a finger inside his shirt collar.
“It does. Whenever you’re ready, Marshal, go ahead.”
“I just did.”
“Did what?”
“Say I’m sorry.”
She scowled at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. “Pardon me, but you said you owe me an apology, which isn’t the same as apologizing.”
He felt heat seep into his cheeks and admitted, “You’re right, of course. Accept my sincere apologies for not believing you, Miss O’Malley.”
She nodded. “I accept because I believe you are sincere. But let me give you some advice that may help you in the future. It would serve you better in life if you had some faith in humanity and weren’t always so suspicious of people.”
His jaw tightened. “Old habits die hard. In my defense, it pays to be suspicious in my line of my work.”
“Then you need to learn to be a better judge of character. I’ve said this from the moment you arrived in town. You appear to have a personal vendetta against people—women in particular—whom you believe aren’t living their lives to your standards.”
“Now who’s not giving someone the benefit of the doubt?” he said, though he knew she was right. But he wasn’t the type to spill his guts to folks. Never had he told a soul about his mother and how, in the end, she’d died a horrible death.
She shrugged. “And now you know how others feel, don’t you?”
Thrusting out his jaw, he jammed his hands on his hips and looked over her head, unable to meet the censure in her eyes. Finally, he glanced at her once more and saw sympathy and concern on her face. Damn! I don’t want her pity.
“Again, I apologize. I’ll leave you and the Palace alone from now on. That’s a promise. Unless you call on me for help, I won’t darken your door again.”
Turning on his heel, he took a few steps when he heard her call to him. “James!”
He stopped and turned to her. She bit her lower lip, looking at him in a way that caused his heart to leap.
“You’re welcome to have your room back, if you want it.”
Sleeping in a cell again was not to his liking. His feelings for Katie grew even more at the thought that she was not a grudge-holder.
“I appreciate it, ma’am.” With a curt nod, he added, “I’ll move back in tonight, after supper.”
He strode away, headed for the jail, all the while thinking about sweet Katie, angelic Katie, Katie of the utmost patience and fairness. The woman was a blessed saint!
Which means she’s too good for the likes of me.
Chagrined, he vowed to never again doubt her word.
Chapter 5
Katie watched James leave, his stride long, shoulders straight. He tipped his hat to her once he mounted his horse, then pulled the animal around and headed down Main Street toward the jailhouse.
Making her way down the boardwalk to the Palace, Katie thought deep and hard about her feelings for James. She’d been hurt when he believed her to be a less than virtuous woman. She wondered what caused him to assume that, to behave the way he had. Then she thought about how he’d looked with pity upon Ethel and Marion when he’d arrested them—not the same look he’d given her. Beneath his cool, lawman’s veneer she had a feeling he knew all along she was not a fallen woman, that she’d known nothing of Ethel and Marion’s antics upstairs with the cowboys. But she also wondered then why he’d been so quick to blame her.
Demons lurked deep inside the man and, while she wanted to pry the truth out of him, she knew the best thing to do was leave him alone.
She hurried back to the Palace to start cooking supper. By the time she arrived, the throng of men waiting at the front of her business separated, allowing her to unlock the doors, cheering her arrival and the opening of the Palace. Once inside, every seat was occupied. Thankfully, another cook, Mabel Larson, arrived in time to take over the cooking Katie had started.
Annie arrived with two of her other employees to help Mabel while Katie took orders.
Half an hour later, Katie and Annie busily ran plates of food to customers. On the way back to the kitchen from her last run, Katie saw James enter. Folks quieted, and Katie felt the knife-edge of their animosity toward him. Some of them glared at James while others chose not to acknowledge him. Katie decided to offer the olive branch in front of the customers. Though misguided in his efforts, James had been trying to do his job.
She moved toward him with a smile, happy he’d returned, for more than one reason. Other than the fact she was more than a bit attracted to the man, she needed his patronage and his room and board money.
“Welcome, James,” she said loud and clear, pausing in front of him. “I believe you know your way to your room. We’re serving supper now, so come down and eat once you’ve settled in.”
“Thanks, Miss O’Malley. I could use some vittles. Haven’t eaten all day,” he murmured.
Katie watched him head up the stairs, appreciative of the view again. After he disappeared from sight, she still stared up the stairs. Then she heard laughter. Looking around, she saw several men grinning at her knowingly. Heat rushed through her cheeks as she tore into the kitchen.
She was too embarrassed to serve food and stayed in the kitchen helping Mabel prepare the food. She couldn’t face those men now, knowing that they’d seen her looking at James with more than a hint of appreciation on her face.
Within an hour, James appeared and settled into his typical place at the back of the dining room, facing the doors. Annie took his order since Katie was still hiding out in the kitchen.
“The marshal wants steak and potatoes, Katie,” Annie said, hustling in. Her cheeks were flushed from rushing about taking orders and clearing tables.
Katie felt guilty that she’d been hiding instead of helping. “I’ll serve him. Annie, take a load off your feet for a bit. Better yet, it’s slowing down. Why don’t you head for home?”
Annie’s drawn, tired expression lightened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Katie said with a nod. “And thanks so much.”
“You’re welcome.” Annie untied her apron and hung it on a hook. She turned, bussed Katie’s cheek, and whispered in her ear. “Go easy on him. I can tell from the way he looks, he feels real bad about closing you down.”
“I know.”
Annie smiled. “He likes you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Katie said, yet pleased to hear the words. Annie had always been a highly perceptive woman. She seemed to know how people thought, what they felt, just by observing them. Often times she’d hear whispered comments from people in town—that Annie was a witch because of her abilities. Katie didn’t think so. The woman simply had an uncanny gift.
At twelve-thirty, Katie
locked up the Palace, though midnight was the normal closing time. It had taken her some time to encourage the last of the card players to leave.
James had gone upstairs to his room hours ago. His work hours were early to bed, early to rise, so he was usually in bed no later than nine. If he’d stayed downstairs the men would have left immediately when she announced she was closing with the marshal standing by. But then she thought of the past few years of managing without him and decided she could handle it on her own, until Brewster returned from taking care of his ill wife. All it took was a casual reminder that the marshal was now housed upstairs in one of her boarding rooms for the men to toss down their cards with a grumble and leave. But she needed that extra hour of drinking money from the men in order to pay salaries at the end of the month.
She’d turned the spigot on the last table lantern, extinguishing the light, when she heard James calling down the stairs to her.
“Everything all right down there, Katie?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m on my way up.”
“Good. Just checking,” he said.
Before she reached the top landing, she saw James looking down on her. He’d removed his vest and stood in his shirt and jeans only, though she noted the gun on his hip. Had he heard what was happening downstairs?
He stepped back when she took the last step up to the second floor landing. “Thought I heard some problem downstairs.”
She shrugged. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. It seems the last six men were involved in a poker game they didn’t want to end, but I convinced them it was time to leave.”
James scowled. “You shouldn’t have to sweet talk them to leave. Once you ask them to, that’s all you should have to do. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I depend on those men returning. You’d scare them away and I’d lose their business.” Which was the truth, she knew. The marshal had intimidated plenty of people in town since his arrival.
“I’d be tactful.”
“Uh-huh. Yes, I’ve seen that side of you.” She smiled. “I’ve been handling this place and its patrons on my own since inheriting it from my mother. I can manage.” Her smile widened. “It’s sweet of you to worry about me though. I appreciate it.”
“I was worried. I think you need to close down at ten instead of midnight. Why stay open so late anyway? All that does is encourage problems. And where’s Brewster? Isn’t he the one who usually handles the late night folks?”
“Normally, yes, but his wife has been very ill so he’s taking some time off to care for her.”
“As to the late hours, where else would these men go for entertainment?”
“Home to their wives and families where they belong,” he snapped.
“Many of these men have no homes to go home to, and you know it. They drive cattle from town to town and sleep on their bedrolls outside. Besides, I need their patronage in order to stay afloat.”
“So, it’s the money then?”
“Mostly, yes.”
“I’ll pay you double what I pay you now for room and board if it means you can close by ten.”
Katie narrowed her eyes. “No, and I don’t appreciate you ordering me about. These men depend on my doors staying open until midnight, and that’s that, Marshal.”
James jammed his hands on his hips. “So, do you think your husband will allow this to continue?”
“You know I’m not married.”
“But once you do marry, do you think your husband will allow this?”
“Since I’m not married, it doesn’t matter.”
“But what if you were married?”
“Why do you care, James?”
Thrusting out his jaw, he said, “Because I’m thinking no wife of mine would be staying up all hours of the night taking care of other men. Besides, it’s not safe. You need someone to look after you.”
Katie bristled at his dictatorial tone, yet, deep down inside, his words made her think he must care for her or he wouldn’t be angry. It was possible he was aiming toward proposing marriage to her but was nervous and hadn’t figured out a way to ask. Lordy, if she didn’t have to worry about society’s rules, she’d broach the idea of marriage to him herself. Instead, she would have to bide her time and wait for him to get the courage to ask. Still, even if he did care and they were married, she didn’t like his tone.
“Well, I’m not your wife so I’m not your worry. Good night, James.”
Lying in bed that night, sleep eluded Katie. She couldn’t put the memory of James’s words from her mind. Though she had no perceptive abilities like Annie, she had a feeling James had been thinking about marrying. Her! She’d escaped before he could say anything more. Alone, she could think over their exchanged words, think about the heated look in his eyes as he gazed down at her.
He didn’t like the idea of her staying open so late at night and handling her patrons by herself. She smiled. Maybe the man was falling in love with her.
Katie sighed, thinking it unlikely, but the thought was comforting, in a way, even his dictatorial behavior made her feel, well, wanted. Her eyes grew heavy as she examined her feelings about the man. He was several years older than her, but not that many, and his age certainly didn’t detract from his appeal. She sighed, thinking she could learn to love the marshal, if she allowed herself. And hadn’t she always wanted children, a family? She thought about that with a smile as she drifted off to sleep.
Across the hallway, James didn’t find sleep easily. He fought with himself through the night hours, drifting off to sleep then waking to consider his lonely life, about how marriage between him and Katie could be possible.
Bozeman was a quiet town with law-abiding citizens. It was only when the cowboys came through town on their way to the next destination that ruckus happened.
No, he couldn’t abide Katie being up late into the night tending other men.
Too many shades of my mother. Even if I know Katie isn’t doing anything wrong.
There was only one way to handle the situation. No matter how many times he went around it, he came back to the same solution.
And, once he’d made his plans, only then did his mind allow sleep.
The following morning, Katie arose and opened her doors for breakfast at five a.m. It was an ungodly hour, but so much of her revenues came from the cowboys who arrived in town looking for a big, hot meal to begin their herding work for the day. Then they’d move onto the next town, gathering cattle along the way.
James came down at six and settled into his usual seat. She gave him a nod, but didn’t officially take his order for she knew he always ordered the same breakfast along with a pot of coffee.
She’d just settled his food on the table before him, the huge empty tray balanced on one hand, when he took her free hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it.
“Thank you, Katie.”
Katie tugged her hand away, her face flushed with heat. “You’re welcome, Marshal.”
“Thought I told you James, not my title.”
“Sorry. After last night, I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
“I do. Nothing has changed since last night.”
“Including how you feel about my business hours?”
“Absolutely. It’s not safe to be open all hours of the night.”
She sighed. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you. You are entitled to your opinion, though none of this should really matter to you.”
“I care about you, Katie,” he said haltingly.
She gulped. “You do?”
He nodded. “We need to talk tonight.”
“Yes, I believe we do.”
“Later then,” he said.
Rising from his chair, James stunned her with a kiss on her cheek. Then he sat down and began eating.
Katie backed away, her hand brushing the skin on her cheek. She bumped into the empty table behind her. James looked up and met her eyes. He gave her a knowing grin before focusing on his meal again.
In the kitchen, Katie swiped a hank of hair back off her forehead, glanced down at her dark blue calico dress, happy she’d worn her best one today. She was on edge the rest of the day and evening at the thought of having a discussion with him once she’d closed for the night. For once she wanted to close her doors at ten and regretted keeping them open until midnight.
A little before midnight, three cowboys she didn’t know strolled into the Palace. She met them at the door. “Gentlemen, we’re closing for the evening. We’ll open again at five in the morning. You’re welcome to stop by for breakfast.”
One gruff, elderly cowboy said, “Heard there was a hot poker game happening here, ma’am.”
“It ended an hour ago.”
A dark-haired, handsome, younger man stepped past her. “Well then, we’ll just have to have ourselves our own game.” He headed for a poker table in the corner and threw over his shoulder, “And a bottle of whiskey would be mighty fine, too.”
“But—”
All of sudden, the other two men brushed past her and seated themselves at the table. The younger one picked up the cards and proceeded to shuffle them.
Katie had followed them to the table and now stood beside it with her hands on her hips. “I said I’m closed.”
“Hear that, Stan?” the elder cowboy said, his tone amused. “The lady says she’s closed.”
“Then how come the doors weren’t locked?” Stan said.
“You came in just as I planned to do exactly that,” Katie snapped.
The two older men just stared at her. Stan said, “We’ll be leaving when we’re good and ready.”
Katie heard the cold anger in his voice but dug in her heels. “You’re good and ready now.”
Stan snarled, “We ain’t leavin’. Now fetch us that whiskey, woman.”
Prickles of fear rushed up Katie’s spine at his angry tone.
“All right,” she said. “One game only and one drink, then you’re leaving.”
“Fine,” Stan said.
Half an hour passed. The men played and drank. And drank. The entire bottle of whiskey disappeared, and Stan asked for a second one.