“Sure you do. Power to keep them in your shop long enough to buy something. People spend more money in a friendly atmosphere than an unfriendly one.”
“I’ll try to remember to only be unfriendly with you.”
“Too late for that. I’ll be working on your house, remember?”
Mallory gave him a sour look. “That can be changed.”
Jack tapped the paper in her hand. “No, it can’t.”
He truly had an answer for everything. Still, she couldn’t, wouldn’t give up. She felt compelled to make him understand who was the boss. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have hired you if I hadn’t thought you would do a good job.”
He gave her a look that said he was too much of a gentleman to point out that she’d had very little choice in the matter.
“However,” she went on, “I fully intend to be involved in the work on my house.”
His brows drew together. “Define ‘involved’.”
“I’ll be there to watch every phase of the repairs to make sure I’m getting what I’m paying for.”
Jack looked pained. “Just don’t get in the way.”
“It’s my house.”
“It’s my crew…and my job.”
“Well, yes, of course, but—” The phone rang, interrupting her. “Excuse me,” she said, turning toward the front counter. “I’ll just be a moment.” She picked up the receiver and said, “Passing Time. This is Mallory speaking. May I help you?” It gave her such a thrilling jolt to say those words that she treated Jack to an unexpectedly friendly grin. He smiled back and winked at her.
“Mallory? Heavens, you sound just like a shop girl.”
Her face went blank with surprise and her stomach flopped over like a grounded fish. “Charles?”
“Hello, darling. I’m just calling to see how you’re doing with your little business venture.”
Mallory’s fingers wrapped around the receiver. “Why would you care?”
After a moment’s hurt silence, he said, “Mallory, dear, I’ve always cared about you and about what you’re doing.”
“As long as it was what you wanted me to do.” Her reply had come out more sharply than she expected. Across the room, Jack turned to look at her. Anyone else would have removed themselves to a polite distance out of earshot. Jack, of course, moved closer.
“That’s not true,” he soothed. “You know I’ve always wanted you to grow and develop as a person.”
Mallory rolled her eyes.
“And I want to make sure you’re happy and that your business is going well. After all, I earned the money that you’re using to buy it.”
A wave of red washed before her eyes. “No, Charles. I earned the money. I did the research for both of your books. I typed the manuscript. In fact, I wrote most of the first draft. I earned my divorce settlement and don’t you ever think differently.”
“Of course, dear. I wasn’t trying to belittle your contribution.”
In her mind’s eye, Mallory could see his patrician features taking on a pained look. She was sure he thought it made him appear as if he was being empathetic, but in truth, he looked as if he was suffering from indigestion. “Yes, Charles, you were and we both know it. Now, why did you call?”
He gave an aggrieved sigh. “Merely to wish you and little Sammi all the best. She’s doing well, I trust.”
“Not that you really care, but yes, she’s fine, thank you.” Mallory’s face was burning, and with each passing second, she was aware of Jack Clanton, who restlessly wandered the room, unashamedly listening to every word.
“I care about your little sister, but you know it wouldn’t have worked out to have her living with us. We both needed space, and—”
“Now you have all the space you could possibly want, don’t you, Charles? Listen, why don’t I simply take this call in the spirit in which it was intended, if, that is, you intended kindness or are even capable of kind feelings.”
“Really, Mallory, there’s no need for you to be so vulgar—”
“Goodbye, Charles. My obligation to you is at an end, our marriage is at an end, and so is this conversation.” She set the receiver carefully on the hook and stood staring at it for several seconds, breathing deeply and trying to control her anger and asking herself for the zillionth time how she’d ever imagined herself in love with that jerk. Even more incomprehensible, how had she stayed married to him for six years?
“Problems?” Jack asked, coming to stand on the opposite side of the counter.
Distracted, she glanced up and saw that his jaw was set and a line of white had appeared around his tight mouth.
He looked furious. Mallory blinked and drew back. He couldn’t be angry on her behalf, could he?
“No,” she denied automatically, because she was too surprised by his reaction to think of anything to say. “It’s…I’m fine.”
Jack studied her for a moment as if he wanted to push her to give him a more honest answer. The proud tilt of her head told him she wouldn’t be pushed. Finally, the expression on his face eased, shifting into his usual easygoing smile. “I’ll be on my way, then.” He turned away, then glanced back. “Don’t forget my offer to be your tour guide.”
Glad that he hadn’t pushed her, she smirked at him. “What a kind offer. I’ll consider it.”
“You do that,” he said in a voice as smooth as French silk. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Mallory stared at him while a feeling of anticipation shimmered through her. She was beginning to learn that it was far more likely that he would tell her when she was ready.
“Mallory, we need to have a little talk.” Jack spoke abruptly from the doorway.
Mallory jumped and nearly tumbled off the ladder where she was perching. As Jack had decreed, she’d been careful to stay out of the way while she offered advice to Fred and Jim on the proper laying of her bathroom tile. Fred had repaired the leaking pipes that had sapped the water pressure and replaced the shower head so it would no longer squirt people in the face.
In only two weeks’ time, vast improvements could be seen in her house. The roof had been replaced and the ceiling repaired. Even the new bedroom and bathroom addition was taking shape with the concrete floor poured and the foundation laid for the adobe walls. Stacks of adobe blocks were neatly lined up, ready to be laid.
Mallory loved every minute of the construction. Whenever she felt she could leave Sammi alone in the shop, she hurried to the house to be involved in the work.
She liked being around Fred and Jim, who were hardworking and thorough. The three of them had been having a fascinating discussion about the local construction business and Jack’s part in it.
From the Jackman brothers, she had learned how very wrong she had been about Jack and his business success. After listening to them for a while, she realized that poverty wasn’t the reason he drove a six-year-old truck and lived in a small apartment.
He was generous to his employees, but he didn’t spend much money on himself because every spare cent went back into his business or to buy real estate. He valued financial security for himself and his employees more than he desired frills. The only thing he’d ever really wanted was the house his grandfather had built and his mother had been forced to sell when the family needed money. It made Mallory squirm to realize she was the reason he’d been denied that one wish. However, she didn’t really feel guilty because she loved the house so much.
Jack had been in Phoenix on business for a couple of days, which had suited her just fine. When she didn’t see him, it was easy for her to forget what a formidable impact he had on her.
Seeing him standing in the doorway, though, with the sleeves of his soft chamois shirt rolled up and his cowboy hat pushed to the back of his head, she remembered all too well. The trick was to not let it affect her.
She blinked innocently at the glowering man and blessed him with her sunniest smile. “Yes, Jack, what can I do for you?”
He st
epped around a box of tile grout and over a pile of the six-inch Mexican-made squares that Fred and Jim had stacked nearby. He came to stand directly in front of her.
Mallory immediately decided she didn’t like the look in his eyes. The pale green seemed to have undergone a transformation that reminded her of approaching thunderclouds.
“For one thing, you can get out of here and let these two men do their jobs.”
Mallory straightened and lifted her chin at him. “They are doing their jobs. I’m only watching.”
“And offering suggestions and telling them what to do and distracting them.”
Mallory touched her hand to her throat. “Distracting them? Me?”
At that moment, Jim and Fred exchanged a look, lumbered to their feet and said, “Boss, we’ll take a little break now. It’s gettin’ mighty hot in here.”
From the look on Jack’s face, she thought it was probably going to get a great deal hotter.
Jim and Fred squeezed out of the room, leaving her alone with Jack and all too aware of how much of the room he seemed to fill. Funny, it hadn’t seemed so full even with both the Jackman brothers in there.
Jack placed his hands at his waist and rocked back on his boot heels. “I hear you’ve been spending quite a bit of time here while I’ve been gone.”
“It’s my house.” Mallory knew she should stand up and face him toe-to-toe, but she feared that a change in her position would signal that he made her feel defensive or uncomfortable.
“That can still be remedied,” he countered, but when she ignored his veiled offer to buy her out, he went on. “I know it’s your house, but, as I told you before, this is my job.”
“And you think I’m interfering?”
“I know you are. T.C. tells me you’re here more than you’re at your shop.”
“And he should know, since he’s at the shop more than he’s here,” she said, then bit her tongue. She was trying to keep a watch on the situation with T.C. and Sammi without being ridiculously obsessive.
Jack’s eyes sharpened. “Still worried about my nephew and your sister?”
“I’m simply watching out for her. She’s only eighteen.”
“Which means she’s an adult in everyone’s eyes but yours,” he pointed out. When she started to protest, he held up his hand. “Save it. I didn’t come to talk about that. I’m here to remind you that you hired me and my crew to do this job, right?”
Although she felt angry heat washing into her face, she answered in a level tone. “That’s right.”
“Then you’ve got to stay away and let us do the job.”
“I’m not a novice at this, you know.”
Jack cocked his head and looked at her skeptically. “Oh, really?”
“Yes. My father owned a hardware store in Illinois before he retired. I helped him out from the time I could barely see over the counter.”
“And you think that qualifies you to give advice on laying tile and plastering walls?”
That brought her to her feet. “Absolutely. It’s my house.”
He shook his head. “Mallory, it doesn’t work that way. You hired us to do the job. Stay out of the way and let us do it. We’re professionals. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Mallory’s lips drew together and two spots of color rode high on her cheeks. She knew he was frustrated with her, but in it she could see shadows from her marriage with Charles. In his tone, she heard echoes of Charles’s disdainful voice whenever she tried anything new. “Maybe I don’t. After all, I hired you, Mr. Clanton.”
Jack stuck his chin forward until it almost touched hers. “And maybe you’re thinking you can get out of our agreement, hmm, Miss Earp? That’s not going to happen. Remember that handshake? Like I told you, around here that’s binding. And you’re sticking to it.”
She wanted to tell him exactly what he could do with his agreement, but she couldn’t. It would be devastating to see her house go unfinished. “I wouldn’t dream of breaking our agreement, Mr. Clanton. I always stick to my word.” She smiled, unable to resist a little dig. “You could even say it’s a family trait.”
That kindled a fire of competition in his eyes. He stepped back and looked at her. “Meaning the Earp family?”
“Meaning the Earp family.”
Jack looked at her with narrow-eyed intent. He lifted his hand and rested his strong chin on the knuckle of his first finger. “Mallory, I believe you’re challenging me to set you and your facts straight.”
She blinked at him, but held her own. This had gone from being a business disagreement to being a refighting of the old feud. She had trouble keeping up with him. She didn’t even attempt to stay ahead of him, but darn it, she wasn’t going to look foolish, either.
“My facts are just fine, thank you. I think it’s your facts that need help.”
His eyes darkened. “Are you calling me out?”
“That’s right. To a showdown.”
“You mean a walkdown.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a defiant look even though she knew he was right. The famous Western cliché where two men met in the middle of the street ready to shoot it out while frightened townspeople ran for cover was called a walkdown because of the slow manner in which the opponents approached each other.
With his tough features shaded by his cowboy hat, his muscles lovingly hugged by his snug shirt, and his big hands resting on his hips, he could easily have passed for a gunslinger. With the devil-may-care look in his eyes and a lock of hair feathered down over his forehead, he could even more easily pass for a lady-killer.
Mallory felt tension coil inside her and an effervescence surge upward. It took her several seconds to realize it was excitement. Disconcerted, she temporarily lost her train of thought, which gave Jack the advantage.
“I think it’s time we settled this,” he went on.
“Name the time and the place.”
“Your shop closes at five, right?”
She nodded.
“Then 5:05 in front of the Bird Cage.”
“I have to close out my cash drawer and make my bank deposit,” she answered.
“Then we’ll make it six o’clock.” He turned away, then glanced back. “Once we set your facts straight, I’ll buy you dinner. Never let it be said I’m a gloating winner.”
“Never let it be said I’m a loser—of any kind.” Her voice was flippant, but an adventurous spirit was running through her, making her reckless. “I’ll meet you there.”
Jack gave her a casual two-fingered salute that she was coming to recognize as a local custom and headed out the door. Once he was out of sight, Mallory pressed her hands to her stomach and took a deep breath. She was crazy to meet him as he demanded, but she wouldn’t back down. She was looking forward to six o’clock.
CHAPTER FIVE
MALLORY saw Jack as soon as she called goodbye to her sister, stepped into the warm spring evening, and closed the door behind her. Dressed in black jeans and a pale green shirt, he was leaning against a wooden signpost planted in the ground before the Bird Cage Theatre. Above his head was a sign stating this was the spot where Tombstone Marshal Fred White had been killed by “Curly Bill” Brocius.
Mallory’s lips quirked as soon as she saw where he was standing. It was obvious that he intended to carry this modern-day version of the Earp/Clanton feud as far as he could. She intended to make sure he didn’t have it all his own way.
She stepped to the edge of the boardwalk, looked both ways up and down the narrow street that could barely accommodate the passing of two cars, and sauntered over to Jack. She had changed clothes, debating over various outfits until she had told herself not to be silly. This wasn’t a date. She had finally settled on the patterned broomstick skirt and gold sweater she’d worn the night they met, reasoning it was comfortable and not too dressy. She had time only to freshen her makeup and brush her long hair back from her face. Loose and free, it hung to her waist.
Jack’s back came
away from the signpost when he saw her. He stood with his thumbs hooked in his back pockets and his palms turned outward, one of those relaxed poses that were so natural to him even when his eyes were sharply interested as they were now.
He met her eyes and Mallory couldn’t mistake the approval there. He thought she was attractive, and in spite of the conflicts between them and her own doubts, she found that gratifying and exciting.
As she stepped up beside him, he pulled his hands from his pockets and jerked his thumb toward the sign. “This looks like as good a place as any to start. After all, much of the trouble between the Earps and the Clantons began when Fred White died.”
Mentally, she rubbed her hands together. Maybe he didn’t have all his facts after all. “The trouble started when the Clantons, the McLowerys and their ‘cowboy’ friends began rustling cattle along the Mexican border and stole six mules from the army.”
Jack reached over, took her arm, and pulled her close to him. He gave her a look of mock admiration. “Miss Earp, I think you might know a little bit more about this than I suspected.”
She answered him with a demure flutter of her lashes and a droll smile. “Why, Mr. Clanton, the truth is, I know a great deal more about this, and a lot of other things, than you suspected.”
“We’ll see.” He started down the boardwalk and she strolled along, too. Their boot heels rang hollowly on the wooden slats. “The shooting was accidental, you know. Curly Bill and his buddies were just having a little friendly target practice at the moon when Marshal White tried to take Bill’s pistol.”
“How very foolish of Marshal White.”
Jack tucked her slim hand into the crook of his elbow and gave her a severe look, but laughter brimmed in his eyes. “Sarcasm is really unattractive on you.”
Her own laughter bubbled up. “I’ll try to control it.”
“Good. Now, where were we?”
“You were giving me your highly fabricated and entertaining version of the events leading up to Marshal White’s death.”
“Fabricated?”
Clanton's Woman Page 6