*
On Tuesday Morgan showed up at noon with his mother’s small carriage that Callie Mae knew was only used for special occasions and a picnic basket. He whisked her out the door, deposited her on the seat, and drove out to Wilson’s pond, where he paid Mr. Wilson a dollar for the use of his rowboat. In the middle of the pond he unpacked the basket and they lunched on Emma’s fried chicken, potato salad, rolls, and a jug of iced tea. Morgan served her and when they had eaten, packed everything neatly away. They laughed and talked easily, like the longtime friends they’d been and he made no mention of his proposal. When a stiff breeze swept across the water, he wrapped her in the blanket he’d brought along, just in case. Pulling a small book from his pocket, he spent the rest of the afternoon reading love sonnets to her until she dozed off, her head on his shoulder.
Morgan let her sleep in his arms until it turned decidedly chilly. Waking her gently, he moved her to the other seat and rowed quickly to the shore. Back at the saloon, Morgan helped her from the carriage and kissed her forehead.
“I won’t come to call tomorrow, honey, but I will see you tomorrow night. Hank tells me there’s a drive coming in, so I’ll be giving him a hand as deputy.”
Slightly disappointed with the peck on her head, Callie Mae pouted for a minute.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, bending to look in her eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, Callie Mae. You know I don’t like it,” he said seriously. “Didn’t you have a good time today?”
“Oh, Morgan, I had a lovely time. I’m just a bit disappointed I won’t see you tomorrow,” she said with a sigh, realizing she was getting much too addicted to his attention.
“I’ve said I’ll be around tomorrow night,” he repeated, stroking the back of his fingers against her cheek.
“I know, but that’s different. You’ll be around to watch me, waiting for something bad to happen so you can give me hell.”
“Such language,” he teased. “I imagine your husband will have something to say about that when the time comes.”
“I don’t have a husband,” she snapped, well aware that she was acting childishly and revealing far too much. He’d been a perfect gentleman since his lapse in the kitchen on Monday and she hated to admit it but she was a tad let down.
“All you have to do is say the word and we’ll make it official. I’ll cart you off to the preacher so fast you won’t know what hit you,” he whispered, stepping closer, his breath warming her ear.
“No, I haven’t decided yet. Maybe tomorrow night, if you don’t come in here all bossy and everything, I’ll think more about it,” she hedged, fighting the urge to put her arms around him.
“Tomorrow night I’ll be a deputy doing my job. Behave yourself and I won’t have to be bossy. I’m only watching out for you and the girls. Do me a favor, try to show a little less of your ah… charms tomorrow night. Maybe if you dressed more like a lady, the customers would be less likely to think you’re not.”
He knew he’d hit a nerve immediately and could have bitten his tongue off. For the last few days she’d been soft and sweet and he had the feeling she would have liked to spend time in his arms, exploring what they began Monday. Looking at her compressed lips and the fire in her eyes he knew those tender emotions were no longer part of the equation.
“I dress for the job I have,” she snapped. “It’s no different than the Reverend’s robe and collar or a drover wearing chaps.”
“Right,” he snorted, “Except those clothes aren’t designed to inspire lust or make a man question his sanity. I don’t see the women in the congregation sashaying up to the pulpit, hoping to cop a feel.”
“Cop a feel?”
“Yes, it means exactly what you think it means. Most of the customers who come to this saloon, even if they are good, decent men can’t help but want to slide a hand under that short dress or stroke the breasts being so flagrantly offered,” he growled, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Why can’t you be reasonable about this?”
“I can’t help what worm gets into a man’s mind, Morgan. All I can say is that no man has the right to tell me what I can or cannot wear.”
“He does if what you’re flaunting belongs to him,” he replied, clenching his jaw.
“I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t belong to any man then, isn’t it?” Callie Mae sassed, her hands on her hips as she leaned slightly forward.
Morgan slapped his hat on his head. “I’m not going to argue about this, Callie Mae. The choice is yours, but let me tell you this. That gold dress is on the high end of my tolerance scale,” he said, raising his hand to a level above her head. “Wear anything more revealing tomorrow night and I will cart you upstairs and show you what a real spanking is!”
“Ha, you think the gold dress was inappropriate, wait till you see the black one! Stop by tomorrow night. I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Whittaker,” she crowed, stamping her foot.
“It’s your ass, sweetheart,” Morgan drawled. Tipping his hat, he turned and climbed into the carriage. “One you won’t be sitting comfortably on for a long time if you don’t mind me.” Picking up the reins, he gave them a snap and set the carriage moving.
Callie Mae swept through the saloon doors and marched upstairs. Damn that man! One minute he was reading sweet love poems and the next he was threatening to spank her. Apparently it didn’t matter whether he was being a perfect gentleman or a complete brute, her body responded the same way. Undressing, she was appalled to notice that her drawers were once again damp.
Taking them off, she poured water into her basin and washed her face, neck, and underarms. Gently, she took a cloth and wiped her nether regions. Finally, curiosity got the better of her and she sat on her bed, spreading her legs. Everything looked normal she thought, moving her hand through the tight curls at her apex. Carefully, she slipped a slim finger between her lower lips and gasped. What madness was this? Why was she so sensitive in a place she’d never given much thought to?
Withdrawing her finger, she gasped as it scraped across a tiny bump, sending a shiver through her. She could clearly see the shiny liquid that coated it and bravely she ventured further, this time using two fingers. Her moan when she stroked the bump was deep and guttural, shocking her. Covering her mouth with her other hand, she stroked again, rolling the nub with the tips of her fingers.
Surely this wasn’t right, but it felt wonderful. Increasing both the pressure and pace, Callie Mae felt her heart racing as she began to sweat. She kept at it for several more minutes until it came to her she was just making the ache worse. There was no relief. Perhaps you needed a man for that or perhaps it was just a woman’s lot to provide pleasure and receive no reward but this, a wet, aching body, shivering with need. Was it any wonder women didn’t enjoy this aspect of marriage? Who would want to feel like this every time your husband took his pleasure?
Callie Mae recalled overhearing a conversation between an about-to-be-married friend and her mother.
“Just try to think of other things, dear. It will be over quickly and you can go about your business,” the matron had advised quietly.
Rising from the bed, Callie Mae washed again, taking care to avoid the trouble spot. She dressed simply, tonight would be relatively quiet with the usual customers. It would be hometown men who wanted to play a few hands of poker and listen to Fancy sing. With any luck she could work on her books.
Tomorrow night would be another story. Moving to her wardrobe, she opened the door and looked at the black dress. It was bold and shorter than her others, but she’d be damned if she let Morgan tell her what to wear. He acted like he owned her already, and if that’s what married life was going to be, she wanted no part of it. She would wear the dress she decided, slipping her gun from the top shelf and securing it in her garter. If he so much as looked like he was going to carry through on his threat, she’d pull it and personally escort him from her establishment.
>
Chapter Fifteen
Lillian looked out her window, noting the huge plume of smoke rising from behind The Duchess.
“I think our neighborhood eyesore may be on fire,” she remarked to Mead as he waited at the table for supper.
“What?” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and hurrying to the window. “No, that’s just the fire Callie Mae’s got going out back.”
“Why does she have a fire that big burning?” Lilly asked, sitting at the table and opening her napkin.
“She’s heating water,” Mead replied, cutting into his steak.
“For what?”
“Hmm, this is good. Make sure you tell Mrs. Dixon I said so.”
“Why ever would I tell Mrs. Dixon you think my cooking is good?” Lilly asked, looking at her plate.
Mead snorted. “Come on Lilly, I know you can barely boil water. Do you think I don’t know you’ve taken nearly all your meals at the Blue Bonnet?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” she insisted indignantly, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m an excellent cook.”
“Pretending you cooked this meal is one thing; lying to me about it is another,” Mead replied softly, setting aside his fork. His stern gaze didn’t seem to have an effect on her, but when he slid his chair away from the table and crooked his finger at her, she jumped.
“Alright, I can’t cook!” she admitted, tossing her napkin on her plate. “There are worse things you know,” she stammered as she rose from the table.
“I know, and you seem to be acquiring some of those habits as well. It doesn’t matter to me if we get our meals at the café. Laurie Dixon is struggling to support her family, but this has been going on for months. Why did you feel you couldn’t be honest with me? I’ve been waiting for you to tell me the truth.”
“I thought I could learn to cook before we got married and you’d never have to know,” Lilly whispered, twisting her hankie in her hands. “It’s not something a woman should be inept at.”
Mead hid his grin and stood. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her head to his shoulder. “Sometimes you’re a very silly girl,” he murmured into her hair. “You make some very pretty hats and not every woman can do that. There’s no reason for you to keep things from me. I didn’t ask you to marry me because I need a cook.”
“I know. It’s just that sometimes I feel so… unsure of myself. Like no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough,” she whispered as she snuggled in his arms.
“I understand, honey, but trying to make others feel inferior is not the way for you to feel better about yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the way you treat Callie Mae and the girls. They’re just like you, trying to make their way in the world and doing the best they can. I don’t like it when you’re so judgmental and critical. When you do that it doesn’t make less of them, it makes you less than you could be.”
“But, Mead, it’s a saloon,” she wailed softly.
“I don’t care if they are digging ditches or herding cows. Every one of them is a lady and deserves to be treated as such. You have to stop, Lilly, or I’ll have to help you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked uneasily.
Stepping back, Mead took her chin in his hand and tipped her face up to his. His eyes were dark and serious and Lilly gulped.
“I mean that if you don’t acquire a better attitude toward others and stop acting like an uppity brat, I will spank you each and every time it comes to my attention,” he promised.
“You wouldn’t do that,” Lilly hissed, blushing.
“I would and if that doesn’t work, I will rethink my marriage proposal.”
“Mead, no,” she cried, bursting into tears.
“Hush,” he sighed, releasing her chin and gathering her close. “I want my sweet Lillian back, not a shrew who can’t say a charitable word to anyone.” Taking her hankie from her hands, he dried her tears. “Now let’s sit down and finish our supper before it’s too cold to eat. As long as you take what I’ve said to heart, we shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“Yes, Mead,” Lilly sniffed as she let him escort her to her seat. Picking up her knife, she began to cut her meat into bite-sized pieces. “So, you didn’t tell me why Callie Mae has a fire behind her place,” she said, trying to calm the fearful beating of her heart.
“Oh, that,” he laughed. “It seems our Callie Mae has come up with another idea to supplement her income. She ordered two copper tubs and turned one of the store rooms into a bathing room. Annalise and Jane have been heating big pots of water out back all day.”
Lilly’s fork clattered to her plate. “Are you telling me that Callie Mae and the girls are letting naked men into their establishment?”
“Well, they aren’t naked when they get there,” Mead grinned, “but yes, I suppose they are naked when they are bathing. I’m sure it’s all perfectly innocent. The storeroom has an outside door, so the men can go in and out as they please. Apparently it beats bathing down at the livery.”
“Oh my heavens,” Lilly cried as she ran to the window. She watched as Ty Wainwright raced down the street, jumped off his horse and threw the reins over the rail. Spinning around, Lilly ran to the door snatching up her shawl on the way and flew down the stairs.
“Lilly! Where are you going?” Mead yelled after her.
*
“Ty, Ty, Mr. Wainwright,” Lilly called across the street, waving frantically before weaving her way around wagons, stray dogs, and skittish horses. “I need to speak with you.”
Ty looked up at the cloud of smoke still rising from behind The Duchess, but the gentleman in him would not let him ignore Lilly’s pleas.
“What is it, Miss Piersal? You shouldn’t be out here alone. Where’s Mead?” he asked impatiently.
Lilly coughed delicately into her hankie, the rising dust threatening to choke her. “He’s over at my place,” she replied, pointing toward her shop. “I saw you ride up and I had to speak with you. It’s very important.”
“Alright, what can I do for you?” he inquired politely as he led her from the street. “I’m kind of in a hurry to see what all that smoke out back is about.”
“That’s just what I wanted to speak with you about, Mr. Wainwright. I think it’s important that you get Miss Martin out of here at once,” she coughed. “The Duchess is no place for her, no not the proper place at all, if you still intend to marry her, that is.”
“Miss Piersal, I completely agree with you and I intend to marry Annalise as soon as she finishes paying her debt to Miss Walker. Annalise refuses to leave until then and despite my misgivings, I can’t help but admire her fortitude.”
“That’s all well and good, Mr. Wainwright, but I think what I have to tell you may change your opinion. You see…”
“Lilly, have you taken leave of your senses?” Mead demanded, slightly out of breath as he took a firm hold of his fiancée’s arm. “What made you run off like that? Hello, Ty,” he continued, nodding.
“Mead,” Ty acknowledged. “Miss Piersal was just about to tell me something very important. I think that’s why she darted out into the street like that, although I must say I think it was foolhardy to do so at this time of night.”
“Oh she was, was she?” Mead asked, tightening his grip. “Yes, my fiancée has been extremely foolish tonight, especially after the discussion we just had. Isn’t that right, Lilly?”
“Ty has a right to know,” Lilly insisted, trying to tug free of Mead’s hand.
“Know what?” Ty asked, planting his hands on his hips. He didn’t have time for this young woman’s nonsense.
“Know that Callie Mae has turned part of this saloon into a men’s bath house,” Lilly stated defiantly. “There are naked men in the back of this building right now!”
“This building?” Ty asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not. That’s wher
e all the smoke is coming from. Your fiancée and another of Callie Mae’s girls are out there right now, tending that fire and lord knows what else.”
Ty straightened to his full height, a tick appearing in his jaw. “Thank you for telling me, Miss Piersal. I’ll deal with this matter immediately,” he said before his determined strides took him around the side of the saloon.
Lilly smugly nodded her approval.
“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” Mead growled as he checked the street and hurried Lilly across.
“I am. He has a right to know.”
“You seem to have a penchant for stirring up trouble lately,” Mead drawled as she struggled to keep up with him.
“I’m just trying to be a good citizen. If you were more socially conscious you would agree with me,” she panted.
“You do realize that I’m going to spank your bare bottom for this stunt?”
“Go ahead,” she sassed. “I don’t care. Doing the right thing is more important than a bit of discomfort.”
Mead laughed and pulled her up the stairs. “A bit of discomfort?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Yes. If you feel the need to treat me like a child, go ahead. Physically, I can’t stop you, but if you think you’re going to make me feel bad about what I did, you’re wrong,” she snapped as he pushed her down on the settee.
Mead removed his coat and hung it neatly on the back of a chair. When he began to slowly roll up his sleeves, Lilly found herself fidgeting on the cushion.
“Go and get your hairbrush, Lilly,” he ordered calmly.
“I won’t!”
Mead sighed, walked to the settee, and pulled Lilly to her feet. “You’re determined to make this as unpleasant as possible, aren’t you?” he asked as he bent and slung her over his shoulder.
Securing her kicking feet with one strong arm he walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.
*
Callie Mae and the Marine Page 15