“Mark and Garrett back yet? Thought I saw their wagon.” He eyed the teacups and empty plate with disdain. “Them brothers won’t appreciate their business becomin’ a ladies’ tea parlor.”
Shannon peeked at Leah, who battled a smile. Both ladies filled the basket quickly. Shannon folded the towel and handed it to her friend.
“Well, I shall be off. See you at noon.”
Mr. Sewell stepped back and tipped his hat to Leah. Shannon noticed the back door open, and Mark walked in. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Well, if them brothers ain’t here, I’m leavin’.” Mr. Sewell backed toward the front door. Evidently he couldn’t see Mark from where he stood. “Don’t know why they let a gal tend to their business. Wimmen oughta be workin’ in a kitchen, not an office. It’s downright disturbin’.”
CHAPTER 14
Mark stood in the back doorway, his gaze landing on Shannon. A fire in his gut quickened. He didn’t like how his body reacted whenever she was near. His stomach swirled with queasiness. His mind worked as if it were trudging through a thick fog. His thoughts got confused, and his tongue seemed to quit working altogether. She was lovely, with her fair skin and auburn hair that his fingers ached to touch. She was young, but not so young that she wasn’t all woman. Why did she fluster him so?
He recognized Homer Sewell’s voice and cantankerous attitude before his eyes landed on the man. Mark stepped out of the back room, irritated at the man for lashing out at Shannon. “Good day, Homer.”
Relief was written all over the man’s wrinkled face. “’Bout time you got back here.”
“You know my brother and I have deliveries to make and are frequently gone. That’s why we hired Miss O’Neil to take orders and be here when we couldn’t. I don’t care for the way you treated her. She’s an employee of Corbett Freight, and as such, deserves the same kindness you’d show us.”
Mr. Sewell ducked his head and frowned. Mark’s gaze latched onto Shannon’s. Her wide green eyes stared back at him, and she sat up straighter. A tiny smile played at the corners of her enticing mouth. He broke his gaze and turned back to his customer. I’ve no business noticing Shannon’s mouth.
“So, Homer, you can either place your orders with Shannon when Garrett and I aren’t around or just keep coming back to town and try to meet up with us.”
“I don’t have time to do that. It’s a good half-day’s ride to Lookout.”
“I guess you could try getting your deliveries by stage.”
Homer shook his head. “Then I have to drive into town to get them. Costs me a whole day’s work. That’s why I pay y’all such extravagant prices.”
Mark shrugged. “Miss O’Neil has been working here for several weeks, and she’s learning fast. Next time you come in and we aren’t here, give her your order. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied.”
“Wimmen ain’t got no business working anywhere’s but at home.” He dug into his pocket and shoved a piece of paper and five silver dollars at Mark. The coins clinked in his hand. “Here’s what I need. When can you get it to me?”
Mark noted that he wanted several rolls of barbed fence wire, some lumber, and a bag of nails. Nothing that Shannon would have had trouble ordering. “You still want the Glidden Square Strand wiring?”
Homer nodded. “Yep, and get me another dozen pairs of leather gloves. That wire eats right through them.”
Mark did some mental calculations. “I’ll probably need another two or three dollars to get all that.”
Homer scowled but reached into his pocket and handed Mark a gold eagle coin. “Here, take this and give me those back.”
They made the exchange, and Homer went on his way. Mark pocketed the ten-dollar coin and handed Homer’s list to Shannon. “Why don’t you fill out his order form?”
Shannon wrinkled her mouth, drawing Mark’s gaze to it. “He wouldn’t like that much.”
Mark sat on the corner of his desk. “Try not to let men like him get to you. They’re old-fashioned and think God created women to be slaves to men.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Thank you for standing up for me. I tried to help him, but he didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“He’s a fool.”
Shannon’s gaze darted to his, and for a moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. His heart galloped, and he couldn’t look away for the life of him.
The back door banged, and they both jumped. Mark shot up off the desk.
“You gonna lollygag all day or help me with this load?”
“I was tending to business.”
Garrett waggled his brows. “Yeah, I can see that. How is business, Miss O’Neil?”
The pink on Shannon’s cheek now flamed red as a Texas star flower.
Mark straightened. “Homer Sewell gave her some trouble.” The grin on Garrett’s face changed into a scowl. “What kind of trouble?”
“Oh, you know his kind. Don’t think women should ever step out of the house except to do laundry and go to the privy.”
Shannon glanced down at the desk, her embarrassment obvious.
“Well, Homer’s a good customer, but you don’t have to take any guff off him.”
“What should I do when a man refuses to deal with me?” she asked.
Garrett pushed his hat back off his forehead. “I hadn’t really considered that would be a problem.”
Mark knew his brother hadn’t considered much when he’d decided to hire Shannon. He was just trying to figure out a way to get some work out of one of the boardinghouse brides in exchange for the money they were paying to support them. Garrett hadn’t considered having Shannon work in the office might be difficult for her—or their customers—at times. That was one of the reasons he objected. Some men weren’t trustworthy, and it bothered Mark when they had to leave Shannon alone for a long while when they were gone on deliveries.
“Well…I guess if you get any more hard-nosed fellows, just tell them they’ll have to come back when we’re here and talk with us.”
Shannon nodded, then pulled a form out of the desk drawer and began recording Homer Sewell’s order. She worked so diligently that he was having trouble keeping her busy. Too bad they couldn’t hire her to clean their house. It sure needed it, but it didn’t seem proper to ask an unmarried gal to clean for two old bachelors. Besides, having her scent teasing him at the office was bad enough. If she spent any time in his home, he was certain he would be awake all night thinking about her.
She nibbled on her lower lip as she concentrated on her work. How had she ever reminded him of Annabelle? There was nothing similar about the two women except maybe the color of their hair and their fair skin. Wisps of auburn hair hung down, curling in loose ringlets. They bounced each time she moved, and he longed to touch them and see if they were as soft as they looked. He swallowed hard. When had he grown to care for her?
Someone shoved him hard, and Mark stumbled sideways, bumping into the desk. “Gonna stand there enjoying the view all day?” Garrett grinned wide, showing all his teeth.
Mark ducked his head, embarrassed to be caught staring. Nothing could come of caring for Shannon O’Neil.
She was sweet.
Innocent.
Even if she did come to care for him one day, when she learned the truth about him, she’d hop the next stage out of town. No decent woman would want a man with a past like his.
Abilene, Texas
Annabelle Smith dodged the cowboy’s groping hand and balanced the tray of drinks she held level with her face. Her ribs ached from the “lesson” Everett had given her after closing hours. Wincing, she placed the drinks in front of the man at the all-night gambling table and hurried away.
A young cowpoke called her name and grabbed as she passed, pulling her onto his lap. His warm, wet lips roamed across her bare shoulder. Annabelle cringed and smacked him atop the head with her tray. Raucous laughter erupted, and the young man rubbed his head, grinning.
What was it with these men? They
knew all she did was serve drinks. She’d never been an upstairs gal, in spite of Everett’s threats to toss her out on the street if she didn’t soon change her ways. He’d been making those same threats for years, and he still kept her on, but she was getting older now, and Everett preferred younger girls who didn’t yet reflect the hard lifestyle of working in a saloon and dodging men every night. What would she do if he kicked her out on the streets?
She sashayed in and out of trouble and back to the bar. The huge picture of the half-naked woman above the wall of bottles repulsed her. She still hated the odor of liquor and smelly cowboys, but most of the time she didn’t notice. Why couldn’t she have a decent job like being a seamstress or a cook? She snorted a laugh. What decent citizen would hire a saloon girl?
She might not be an upstairs gal, but to the good townsfolk of Abilene, she was one and the same. Her only chance for another life was to leave this town. But where could she go?
“Stop lollygagging, Annabelle, and get out there and sell drinks. You’re costing me money,” Everett snarled at her, then poured another round for the men at the bar.
She grabbed a fresh bottle and cups that Everett had wiped half-clean, then strolled around the saloon, stopping at a table with three businessmen. “Can I freshen your drinks, gentlemen?”
One man nodded, and another lifted his glass. The third man, a regular who always gave her trouble, eyed her as if he were a starving man and she a big, juicy steak. “I’m not thirsty, Annabelle. I’m hankering for some alone time with a purty gal.”
She cringed but kept a smile pasted on her face. “I’m sure Trudy or Lotus would be happy to oblige you.”
He stood, towering over her by a good six inches. “We’ve danced this dance for years now, and I’m tired of it. You’re the one I want.”
Annabelle backed up, as a scene from years ago rose in her memory. The same situation had occurred. A man thought he could have more than she was willing to give, but that man had ended up dead. This evening, however, no shining knight was around to rescue her from this vile man, only herself. She forced her voice to sound steady. “Sit down, Cal, and let me pour you a drink.”
His eyes ignited, and he shoved his chair back. “Everett says I can take you upstairs whether you wanna go or not. I paid him good, too.”
Annabelle’s gaze shot over to her boss. A sickening smirk twisted his thick lips, and he lifted a cup to her as if in toast. Why, after all these years, was he forcing this on her?
She had to get out of there. She tossed her tray, bottle and all, at Cal and spun around. Deftly weaving in and out of the tables as she did daily, she headed for the swinging doors that opened onto the street. A growl roared behind her, and the crowd broke out in laughter and cheers, some egging Cal on, and others rooting for her.
Her heart pounded so hard she felt sure it would burst from her chest. A cowboy grabbed her flared skirt, slowing her down. The doors were just two tables away. She didn’t dare look back. Plowing out the double doors, she breathed a fresh breath of air while her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness.
Hide. Fast. Her brain repeated the mantra. Hide.
She rushed down the boardwalk steps and turned into the alley, just as she heard the doors fling open so hard they banged against the saloon’s facade. A little farther, and she’d be free. At the back of the alley, something huge stepped from the shadows, and Annabelle plowed into the big, fleshy body. Thick hands latched onto her arms, pinning her against him.
“Not so fast, little lady.”
Annabelle stiffened at Everett’s deep voice. Footsteps charged behind her, drawing closer.
“You knew your days were numbered, but I guess our little talk didn’t knock any sense into you. I’ve been losing money on you for some time now. But no more. Take her, Cal. She’s all yours.”
“No!” Annabelle kicked and jerked, trying to get free. “You can’t make me do this.”
Cal lifted her and slung her over one big shoulder and carried her through the saloon’s back door. Hoots rose up from the crowd. Upside down, she could see their leering faces and sickening grins. How many of them figured they’d be next?
She wanted to die. Maybe she could get to Cal’s gun, shoot him, and get away. Maybe she’d just shoot herself, too.
One of the upstairs doors opened. Lotus stepped into the hall. “Well, well, it’s about time someone brought Miss High and Mighty up here. Guess you won’t be so snooty to us after tonight.”
Bile burned Annabelle’s throat. How could this be happening? Why hadn’t she left her job sooner?
Cal kicked in a door, and Trudy squealed and grabbed for her cover-up. He cursed and opened another door. Annabelle was close to passing out from fear and being held upside down for so long, but she had to keep her wits about her.
Cal kicked the door shut with his boot and deposited her on the bed. She bounced twice, the old frame creaking and groaning.
“Just relax. You’ll enjoy yourself, I promise.”
What an arrogant imbecile!
Her mind raced. There had to be some way out of this situation. Maybe if she played coy, he’d drop his guard. Her gaze roved the room. There wasn’t much to work with. Besides a bed, there was one ladder-back chair, and a small table holding a flowery ceramic pitcher and basin.
She crawled off the dirty bed, and stood in front of the table.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Cal moved closer, unbuckling his holster.
She cast a coy glance over her shoulder. “A girl has to freshen up, doesn’t she?”
Cal’s gray eyes narrowed, gazing at her as if he didn’t quite trust her. And well he shouldn’t.
“You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this, sweetheart.” He stepped up behind her and ran his hands down her arms.
She turned, forcing a playful look. “Me, too. I was just playin’ hard to get earlier.”
His eyes sparked, and he pulled her into his arms. His lips roved her face, found her mouth, and she made herself play along. After a minute of impossible disgust, she pushed him back. “Don’t you want to take off your shirt?”
He grinned and walked back to the door, locking it. He unfastened his buttons and turned to hang his shirt on a hook on the wall, then removed his belt. Repulsed, Annabelle swiped her mouth. She reached behind herself slowly, grabbed the near-empty pitcher, and crept forward. Cal turned slowly, and Annabelle slammed the pitcher upside his head. It cracked and broke, raining water and shards at their feet.
Cal stared at her, dumbfounded. Annabelle’s heart raced. What would he do to her now?
He took a half-step forward; then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell toward her. She grabbed him, hoping no one would hear his fall, but his weight was too much, and he took her down with him. Stunned, she lay there a moment to catch her breath. But she couldn’t rest long. She had to get away.
With some effort, she managed to slide out from under him. Blood ran down the side of his face and onto the carpet. She stared down at Cal, hoping she hadn’t killed him, but she imagined that’s what he’d do to her if he woke up.
She snatched up the belt and wrapped it around him, locking his arms to his side. The belt barely fit, but it should hold him for a while, giving her precious time to get away. She grabbed his shirt next, and rolled it up, fashioning a gag, using the sleeves to tie it on.
What about his feet? If he could get up, he could make it to the hallway where someone would see him. Her gaze raced around the room. His holster!
She removed his revolver, pulled his feet together, and wrapped the holster around it, hooking it as tight as she could.
Again, her heart stampeded. How could she get out of the saloon without being seen? How could she leave town when she had almost no money? The pittance Everett paid her was barely enough to live on.
She unlocked the door, wincing at its loud click, and opened it a hair. The other doors upstairs were closed. To her left were the rooms Trudy and Lotus were usin
g and the stairs back down to the saloon. To her right was another door. Everett’s room.
He’d sent her upstairs on occasion over the years when he’d collected a pile of money. She’d always put it in the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it, returning the key to him when she got back downstairs. He never wanted to leave when customers were there, fearing they’d steal bottles of liquor or start a fight and tear things up.
She slipped into his room and allowed her eyes to adjust to the dark. The overpowering rank scent she recognized as Everett’s nearly made her retch. Feeling her way, she found the desk and hurried around behind it. Opening the curtains allowed the light of the three-quarter moon to illuminate the room so she could see well enough. She tugged on the bottom drawer, knowing it would be locked. But to her surprise, it slid free. Way in the back, underneath a stack of papers, she pulled out the money box. The lock on it had long since broken, and Everett was too cheap to buy another one. He’d be sorry.
Her heart thudded in her chest, as if it were a trapped bird frantically trying to get free. And wasn’t that what she was?
She reached in the box. Everett would notice if she took all the money, but he owed her. She’d slaved for him and suffered at his hand, especially tonight. He would pay for her to start a new life.
She grabbed a handful of bills and several double eagle coins, then shoved the drawer closed. Annabelle stuffed the money in her corset and hurried to the back door. Everett’s parents had died in a fire, and she’d be forever grateful that he’d had a rear stairway installed, leading from his bedroom.
She unlatched the door and hurried down the steps. Keeping to the shadows, she crept along. The only way to get away fast was to steal a horse, but that was a hanging offense—and she couldn’t ride off in her saloon dress.
Untying the closest horse, she led him down the alley and several streets over to the room she rented.
“Hurry, hurry.” She could feel Cal waking up and knew he’d make a ruckus until someone heard him.
Second Chance Brides (Texas Boardinghouse Brides 2) Page 14