He pulled a notebook from his pocket along with a stub of a pencil and started making notes. Glancing at the blueprints, he scribbled some numbers on a page then paused to take another sip of the whiskey.
It was a crazy idea but it just might work, he thought. And he was no stranger to insane ideas.
Chapter Nine
Is it Better to be Armed or Charmed?
Alma held up the Colt revolver and pointed to the tip of the gun. “This here’s your sight. You aim by lettin’ your eye settle on that point, then move it to the target. Use your thumb to cock it, then squeeze it slow and easy, like you’d squeeze a man’s balls.”
Prudence felt heat climb from her bosom to her cheeks. Alma had an earthy way of describing things. She’d never heard any woman swear as much, seen anyone—man or woman—who spit as much and didn’t know a single woman back home who described things the way Alma did.
It was an educational experience in more ways than one. Alma handed the gun to Prudence.
“Just aim and shoot after you pull the cock. Try not to think too much, Prudence. You're always thinkin’ and when you shoot you gotta feel the gun in your hand. Don’t be afraid of it. You’re gonna feel a little kick but it ain’t nothin’ to worry about.”
Prudence held the gun as steady as she could. She cocked it, looked down the sight then studied the tin cans lined up on top of a barrel set near the riverbank. She pulled the trigger and flinched when there was a slight throb in her wrist.
“Well, you missed that one by a mile,” cackled Alma. “Sure hope there ain’t nobody takin’ a shit in them bushes over there, ‘cause they’ll get scared outta their pants when a bullet goes whizzin by their ear.” She laughed some more and Prudence worked hard to hang onto her temper.
Alma loved to tease Prudence about her ladylike behaviors, pampered ways and especially her relationship with Gerritt. The older woman had remarked several times this morning if she were Prudence, she’d have found a way into Gerritt’s bed by now and then the man would never have sent her away.
At first Prudence had been appalled that any woman would say such things out loud, but later, she’d realized how tame the earlier talk had been. Once she got wound up, Alma had been more than happy to dispense a lot of advice. Much of it sexual in nature.
From the things she’d said, it was clear Alma and her husband had shared a very robust relationship in the marital bed. Prudence was too interested in the information the older woman was sharing to voice her embarrassment.
“Yup, you just lick that sausage up and down, then see how much of it you can swallow. That’ll keep ‘em comin’ back for more.”
Prudence had been concentrating on trying to sight the revolver again and she’d lost track of the conversation. Probably for the best, considering the advice that was being dispensed. She didn’t want to know if the sausage was an analogy or a practical recommendation. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with shooting a gun.
Some things were better left to the imagination.
“Slow and easy is always best.” Alma offered.
Prudence still didn’t know if she was talking about shooting a gun or having relations with a man. Maybe it was both.
The older woman moved behind Prudence and lifted her arm. “You gotta aim for the middle of whatever you’re shootin’ at, that way if your arm comes up a bit, you’re still likely to hit somethin’.”
Apparently the housekeeper was now focusing on shooting a gun. It was a massive relief, because sorting out the instructions for shooting a gun from satisfying a man in bed was making her head ache.
Prudence held her breath, pulled the trigger and when the can on the barrel flipped, she could have danced a jig. She’d hit something.
“There you go, girl. Now all you need is practice. Once you figger out the way to shoot, you just gotta keep shootin’ till you get the aim right. Load up on some more bullets and I’ll sit my old bones down over here and watch you for a while.”
“How long were you married?” Prudence asked as she slid bullets into the gun with a practiced ease. This part was pretty easy compared to aiming and shooting.
“Twenty one years,” replied Alma. “That damned fool man bought me a silver teapot once for our wedding anniversary.” She shook her head. “What’s a rough ranch wife like me going to do with a fancy silver teapot? He was plumb loco sometimes.”
Prudence lowered the gun to her side. “Maybe he just wanted you to have something fancy and elegant. I suspect he wanted to give you a life of beautiful clothes and fine things, but didn’t have the means. So he gave you a symbol of all the riches he wished he could give you.”
Alma was quiet for a few minutes. Prudence raised the gun to aim at another can balanced on the barrel.
“He could have married the richest gal in town. Her Daddy owned the biggest spread in the area and she had set her bonnet for my Charlie.”
Prudence lowered the gun again. The story was getting really interesting now.
“So, why did he marry you instead?”
Alma put her head down and sighed. “I laid with him and got myself with child. I knew Charlie weren’t the kind to give a girl a bastard and not take care of her. So he married me and we raised three boys together. I was the happiest woman on earth, but I always wondered what kinda regrets Charlie had about his life.”
Prudence crossed the gravel to stand next to Alma. She knelt down to look her in the eye.
“All morning long you’ve been regaling me with stories of your coupling, your rather wicked play in bed and the ways you made that man happy. Now you want me to believe he regretted making you his wife.” Prudence rolled her eyes.
“I was married a fraction of the time you were but I believe your Charlie didn’t miss the fancy society girl he didn’t marry one day of his life. He sounds like a man who loved you and treasured the life you built together.”
Alma laughed. “You’re right. Me and Charlie, we had some real good times. And our sons are running the ranch now. I guess we made ourselves a fine life together.”
“Can you say the same thing about the rich girl he didn’t marry?” Prudence asked.
Alma’s face screwed up like she was chewing on something bitter. “I do believe she ended up about the unhappiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Prudence was surprised. “She still lives here in town?”
Alma looked baffled. “You’ve met her, Edith Blakely, ‘course she weren’t a Blakely then. Her name was Edith Campbell. Her brother still runs the Beanntan Ranch.”
Prudence stared at Alma for a moment, then couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across her face. “You stole a suitor from that lemon-mouthed termagant?”
Alma nodded, her eyes glittered with pride. “I sure did. Ended up Edith married some banker from Seattle. I always felt guilty for stealing her man and I’m sorry for that girl of hers.” Alma’s mouth turned down at the corners.
“Henrietta would be just fine if her mother would stop meddling in her life and leave her alone.”
Prudence aimed the gun at the tin cans lined up on the barrel. “I believe she has designs on Gerritt.” She paused to look over her shoulder at Alma. “I mean Professor Rhinehart.”
Alma stood and shook out her homespun skirt. “You don’t have to pretend to me. I know there’s somethin’ going on with you two.” She frowned at Prudence. “I just can’t figger out which one is more scared, him or you?”
Prudence bristled at her words, took careful aim and cocked the gun. She pulled the trigger, hit a can and then cocked and aimed two more times, hitting a can with each shot.
Alma studied the cans now lying on the ground. “Well, that’s a good thing to remember. You’re a better shot when you’re all riled up about somethin’.”
Prudence lowered the gun and gave Alma a thin smile. “I believe if I’m shooting at someone, I’m going to be pretty darned riled up.”
Alma nodded. “That’s enough for today. We should pract
ice every day for a while. “Till you get to feelin’ real comfortable with the gun. Like it was part of your hand. No point in knowin’ how to use a firearm unless you can hit your target.”
Prudence opened the chamber of the revolver and ejected the three remaining bullets. After handing them to Alma, she gave her the gun, butt first, just like she’d been taught earlier.
“I’m doing this to reassure Professor Rhinehart that I can take care of myself. I’m terrified he’s going to send me back to New York.”
Alma stuck the gun in the leather belt cinching her waist and made a rude noise. “I wouldn’t be too worried about that. You just make him as nervous as a young elk during the rut. He knows he wants somethin’ but he ain’t figgered out how to get it.”
Prudence blinked at the rather crude reference. Then she considered Alma’s words. Gerritt had been nervous and edgy around her since their talk in her bedroom. He’d promised they would take their time to get to know each other. Perhaps she was rushing things.
“I wish he’d reconsider sending me to stay in town. I can’t imagine it makes me any safer to live down there.” Prudence folded her arms across her breasts.
Alma picked up the box of ammunition and crossed to Prudence. “That ain’t the only reason he sent you down to the Widder McCauley’s boardin’ house.” She shot a significant glance at Prudence.
“’Course, if’n a lady was to get herself a suitor, maybe another man would have to step up and stake his claim.”
“You have very interesting advice about romance, Alma.”
The older woman grinned. “Or you could do what I did, tease the man into your bed, show him what he’ll be missin’ and make him come back for more.”
Prudence blushed, but she felt a tingle of excitement. As scandalous as Alma’s advice seemed, it was titillating. If she were the type of woman who could tease a man into her bed. Which, of course, she wasn’t.
Was she?
***
She tested her theory about teasing and flirting with a man after dinner that night. It had been her habit to retire to her room most of the time, but many of the boarders gathered in Mrs. McCauley’s cozy parlor to read, chat or even sometimes play the piano, and she decided, this evening, she would join them.
Simon Faherty and the other man seated before the chess board stood when she entered the room.
“Good evening, Mrs. Worthington,” Simon said with a grin.
The other gentleman, a mining engineer who’d arrived in Jubilee a few days before, bowed in her direction. “I’m delighted you decided to join us, Mrs. Worthington.”
She settled onto one of the soft, welcoming chairs near the cast iron stove and gave each man a nod. “Thank you Mr. Reed, and good evening to you, too, Mr. Faherty.” She tilted her head and assumed an expression she hoped would be more flirtatious than simpering female.
“I couldn’t resist the temptation of joining two gallant gentlemen this evening. But, I see you’re engaged in a game, so I’ll read one of these lady’s magazines.” She gave a deep sigh. “I certainly wouldn’t wish to disturb you.”
Both men rushed to sit on wooden chairs opposite the stove.
“It would never be an interruption to enjoy conversation with a lovely lady,” Mr. Reed said. He settled his tall, lanky form on the chair. “I confess, I was quite distraught to discover we would only be able to enjoy your delightful company each evening at dinner.”
The schoolmaster seated next to him grinned. “I, too, look forward to conversing instead of once again thrashing Mr. Reed at chess.”
Mr. Reed turned a bright, beet red. “I haven’t had time to brush up on my skills, but, never fear, I shall eventually prevail.”
“It sounds like you two have developed a rivalry,” Prudence offered.
“Mr. Faherty informed me he’d defeated everyone in town, except Professor Rhinehart, at chess. I couldn’t resist the challenge, so we’ve been playing each evening after dinner.” He threw a contemptuous look at Simon Faherty. “I had no worthy partners at the last mining town I visited, so it is taking me some time to recover my game.”
Prudence smiled. “My father taught me to play chess, but I confess—I was never good at the game. I always preferred checkers.”
Both men grinned back at her.
“Then we shall play tonight, first me, then the winner plays Mr. Reed,” suggested Simon. He jumped up and moved the chess board to the dining room table. He then returned to the parlor and opened a drawer in a bureau. He pulled out a checker board and wooden pieces then proceeded to set up the game.
“Why do you have the privilege of the first game with Mrs. Worthington?” Mr. Reed inquired.
Simon Faherty threw her an impish grin. “Because it was my idea, Lucas. And I have a much longer acquaintance with the lady, thus I am entitled to enjoy her company first.”
Mr. Reed did not look pleased at the explanation, but he didn’t object when Simon took her hand and led her to the small side table.
“Would you like a bit of tea, Mrs. Worthington?” Mr. Reed rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet. “We often enjoy some of Mrs. McCauley’s scones with tea in the evening. She’s a most gracious landlady.”
Prudence gazed up from watching Simon Faherty make the first move on the game board. “I’d prefer a cup of coffee, if it’s not too much trouble for Mrs. McCauley.”
As Mr. Reed hurried out of the room, she smiled up at Simon. “He seems like a very nice man.”
Simon’s mouth twitched. “I should warn you—” he watched her move a red checker “—he is quite enamored with you. He’s pestered me with questions about your marriageable status, your position with Gerritt…and your personal habits.”
He moved a black checker forward. “It gave me great pleasure to report to the professor that you have an admirer.”
Prudence kept her eyes on the checkerboard and tried to be nonchalant. “I’m quite sure Professor Rhinehart has more important things to concern himself with than the pitiful social life of one of his employees.” She wondered if Simon Faherty knew about one of the reasons she’d been moved out of Gerritt’s home. “And I’m not interested in having any suitors. I came to this territory with plans to build a future and to do it myself, not to marry.” She moved another checker on the board.
“An admirable goal, Mrs. Worthington.” He made a counter-move. “But, you cannot keep men from hoping to court you. You’re lovely, quite charming and, despite your intentions to remain independent, there are men in town who have made you the object of their affections.”
Prudence frowned. “I can’t fathom why. Certainly Miss Blakely is far lovelier and she should receive their admiration and attention.”
“That’s kind of you to say, especially since I don’t believe either Blakely woman has shown you any kindness or respect.”
He made another move on the board and Prudence felt a surge of delight. She’d positioned her checkers perfectly and either he didn’t notice the trap she’d set…or he was going to let her win.
“I believe Henrietta and I could be friends if she ever felt she could trust me.” She tapped her fingers on the table…waiting for Simon to make the next move. He did as she expected, and she gave a yelp of triumph as she jumped several of his men to put her first black checker on the back row.
“King me,” she said, clapping her hands and grinning. She knew she should be embarrassed at her show of pleasure. Men didn’t like to be bested by a woman, experience had taught her that. She didn’t care tonight because winning felt so good.
“You didn’t lie about your skill in this game,” Simon said, and even though his mouth turned down in a sour pout, his golden-brown eyes sparkled with delight.
Realizing the handsome schoolmaster was flirting, her pulse quickened, joy burbled through her. She was enjoying his attention, and despite her concern that Gerritt might not appreciate hearing about her admirers, perhaps Alma had been right.
She needn’t encourage
any gentlemen’s attention, but she could enjoy it when it was offered. And if it pushed Professor Gerritt Rhinehart to take more of an interest in her as woman, then she would enjoy it even more.
Lucas Reed appeared at the doorway to the parlor with a large tray laden with several cups and a plate of buttery scones. She sniffed the air and her mouth watered. Mrs. McCauley’s cooking was worth the cost of the board. Unlike many other boarding houses, their landlady took pride in filling her tenant’s bellies with delicious fare.
But her spirits plummeted when she noticed the man standing behind Mr. Reed.
Intense dislike flared in Alfred Heisman’s eyes as his gaze flicked over her. She shivered at the overt disdain. Then he fixed his face into a gloating grin and followed Mr. Reed into the room. Heisman held his hat in his hands and Prudence wondered if he’d been working late with Gerritt at the mine office. The professor had seemed so tired lately and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. She was concerned he might be working too hard between his businesses and his mission for the Union.
“How delightful that the reclusive widow woman has deigned to join the rabble in the parlor this evening. Should we feel honored?” Mr. Heisman’s voice had an oily edge.
Simon Faherty’s spine stiffened. A muscle twitched near one eye as he clenched his hands into fists and leaned back in his chair. “The only rabble I see just joined us. And if you intend to stand here and hurl insults at Mrs. Worthington, perhaps you should leave before you get into more trouble than you can handle.”
The bookkeeper’s mouth formed an angry snarl and Simon started to stand. Mr. Heisman turned his gaze back to Prudence. “I apologize to the lady if I’ve given offense. I have so little contact with educated women folk, I don’t know how to act when I’m around one.”
The tone of his voice was more mocking than apologetic. Prudence decided to ignore the onerous man and continue her checker game with Simon. One of her checkers once again made it to his side of the board.
Prudence and the Professor Page 10