Pistols and Petticoats (A Historical Western Romance Anthology)

by Barbara Ankrum

  "Oh, how awful."

  "It was beyond awful and I don't want to talk about it anymore."

  "Will you talk about something else?"

  He cocked his head. "What?"

  "During our act, why have you stopped kissing me the way you did until that night my brother found us in the horse car."

  Seth shook his head. "Don't want to talk about that either."

  "Well, I do." Surprising him, Shannon threw herself into his arms. Then she went on. "You care about me, I know you do, and I care about you. What are you so afraid of—my brother?"

  Seth bristled at the notion, but said, "Should I be? Is he a better shot than you are?"

  She paused a moment, then said, "I don't know for sure, but I doubt it. Anyway, he's not going to be a problem."

  "Oh? Seems to me like he promised to be a very big problem if I should ever look your way again."

  "You have to trust me, Seth. I took care of him."

  It would have been so easy then to pull her more fully into his arms and take up where they left off in the horse car, but something about her nagged at him. At first he'd taken her for a gal out looking to have a little fling with a cowboy, but now that he knew her better, he was quite sure that he'd be playing with a fire that might leave him—and her—badly burned.

  Thinking only of saving her from the heartbreak to come and himself from an entanglement he wasn't looking for, he set her away from him and said, "I'll be sure to put on a better performance during our act this afternoon."

  Then he mounted Charlie and headed back to the encampment.

  * * *

  Disappointed in the way everything had gone from testing the new act to trying to get back into Seth's good graces, Shannon headed for Bethel's tent to pick up her new costume. Not that she had an act to go with it.

  "Hello," she called at the entrance flap. "May I come in?"

  "You bet," Bethel hollered back.

  When Shannon stepped inside, she saw that Bethel was sitting in a chair eating a slice of pie. "Oh, that looks good. How did you manage to sneak a piece before the mess tent opened?"

  Bethel laughed. "My husband is one of the cooks. He takes pretty good care of me."

  Shannon envied the woman. "I wish I had a man who cared about me that way."

  "Why don't you?" Bethel looked her over. "You're a fine example of womanhood, but you look pretty long in the tooth to be without a husband. Don't they have any single men where you come from?"

  She shrugged. "I'm from a ranch outside Centennial, Wyoming. There are plenty of young men in town, but I'm not interested in the few who seem interested in a gal like me. The ones who might catch my favor cross the street when they see me coming."

  Bethel nearly dropped her pie. "Are they blind? I am not understanding the young men in this town of yours."

  The woman clearly didn't realize what Shannon had to endure, so she gave it to her in simple terms. "Proper young men don't court the daughter of an Arapaho Indian. It's just not done."

  "So that's it."

  Bethel muttered something under her breath, a curse Shannon thought. "I don't think about it much. Nothing I can do about it anyway."

  Bethel shook her head as she said, "You won't find any of that behavior here. We're all one big family and everybody cares for everybody else, Indians, Arabs, Cowboys, Gauchos, and you name it."

  "Oh, I know. Believe me, I've noticed how well everyone gets along."

  "Bill Cody is also a champion of women's rights. He's trying to get every State to be as smart as some of those fellahs you have there in Wyoming, and get the vote for women everywhere."

  "That would be wonderful."

  Something in her tone must have caught Bethel's ear because she cocked her head and drew her eyebrows together. "Something else bothering you, dear?"

  Shannon fidgeted a little and then said. "Oh, there is someone here that I'm kind of sweet on, but I just can't figure him out."

  "What can't you figure out?"

  "I don't know. It feels like sometimes he cares about me, and then he can't seem to get away from me fast enough. I just don't know what to think."

  Bethel nodded sagely. "It's that Seth Edwards you're sweet on, right?" At Shannon's nod, she continued. "You can be sure of one thing with him. When he isn't paying you the proper attention, it's got nothing to do with the fact that your pappy is an Indian."

  "Oh, no. I've never thought that of Seth."

  "So what is it you want to know? How to catch him?"

  Shocked by the very idea, Shannon blinked and said, "You mean there's some kind of plan for that?"

  Bethel cut loose with a laugh that shook her belly, and when she caught her breath, she said, "Not really, but it would be kinda fun, wouldn't it?"

  Since Shannon wasn't entirely sure she wanted to 'catch' Seth, she said, "I just want to know what he thinks of me, and I guess, what his intentions are."

  "So ask him, why don't you. You don't seem to be the shy type."

  That was for sure. But what could she say to him and how to say it? She'd already told him she wanted more of his kisses, and that the ones he bestowed during their act were lacking of late. What more could she do? Thump him alongside the head with a bag of glass balls?

  Chapter 11

  A full week later, after stops in Logan, Utah; Pocatello and Boise, Idaho; and Baker and Pendleton here in Oregon, the show arrived in Portland for a two-day appearance and a much needed rest.

  Little had changed in Shannon's life except Seth was finally kissing her a little better during their act. Otherwise he still avoided her whenever possible.

  As for the show, Mister Cody went along with the bareback shooting act using a shotgun, and now she was on her way to collect the new costume she would wear for that performance.

  As she reached the tent, Shannon called out, "Hello, in there. Can I come in?"

  "Absolutely!"

  Bethel was climbing out of her chair at the sewing machine as Shannon entered, and then she lumbered over to the rack of costumes. "I'll bet you're here for your new dress, right?"

  "That's correct. Is it ready?"

  "Sure is." Bethel selected a lemon yellow blouse with a long white bib that tapered down to a point at the waist. Then she dug out the matching skirt and belt along with the leggings, all of them trimmed in chocolate-brown embroidery.

  "This looks great. Thanks so much, Bethel."

  "Can you visit a spell?"

  "Not really. I have to get right over to the horse corrals and help get things ready for the show."

  Bethel patted Shannon's shoulder. "Well, stop around when you get time. I'm dying to know how things are going with that cowboy of yours."

  "I can tell you that right now," she said sourly. "Not so good on the one point, and he's not mine on the other."

  Bethel hung her head. "Oh, that's too bad."

  "Don't worry about me," Shannon said as she turned and walked away. "I'm not about to give up on him."

  Laughing to herself over her last statement, Shannon dropped off the new dress at the lady's tent and then headed to the corrals. As she approached, she could see there was a commotion in the horse corral, and that a buffalo had somehow escaped from his own enclosure. Several gauchos were trying to herd him back where he belonged, and Seth and a few cowboys were trying to calm the horses.

  Many of those horses, the ones not trained to work the buffalo stampede, were calling to one another, snorting and pawing the ground, generally panicked.

  Thinking she could be of some help, Shannon ran to the corral and ducked under the railing just as Seth lassoed a particularly upset gelding.

  As he walked toward the animal, apparently intending to settle him, the gelding reared up and pawed the air.

  Seth screamed in pain.

  This was closely followed by that cuss word he rarely used. Then he spun away from the horse, his back bent, and cradled his hand against his stomach.

  "Oh, my Lord," Shannon cried, reaching
him. "What did you do?"

  "I made a stupid mistake," he said, his voice tight. "I wrapped the damn rope around my bare hand. I know better than that."

  "I'm sure you do." She reached out to him. "Let me see your hand."

  He shook his dark head.

  Shannon insisted. "It needs to be tended to and you're not helping it by smashing it against that filthy shirt of yours. Now let me see it. I can help you."

  Wincing in pain, Seth gradually straightened himself. Looking at her with narrow eyes, he said, "Try not to touch it if you can. Just let me know what kind of damage I have."

  Then he turned his head to the side, eyes closed, and held out his hand, which was balled in a fist.

  "I really hate those buffalos," he muttered. "I never wanted them in the show in the first place. They're unpredictable and can be downright mean."

  He probably would have gone on and on about the buffalos if Shannon hadn't pried his fingers away from the injury just then. Instead he gasped, and said, "How bad is it?"

  "It's a rope burn," she said cautiously. The worst rope burn she'd ever seen. "We're going to have to clean it up, get some salve on it, and wrap it."

  With one eye opened to a mere slit, Seth slowly turned his head and looked down at his hand. Then he drew a sharp breath and said, "You call that a rope burn? It looks like that horse damn near tore off my hand!"

  "Oh, it's not that deep," she said. "Where can we go to clean it up?"

  With his left hand, he pointed to the supply tent that held all manner of horse related items, including medicines. Shannon thought he'd continue to fight her, but he followed along, muttering to himself the entire time it took to reach the tent. Once inside she directed him to sit on a stool, and she got busy gathering up supplies.

  It took a while to get the hand cleaned and slathered with salve as Seth complained loudly every time she touched him, but Shannon finally got it wrapped with some clean white cloths.

  About that time a cowboy named Buck entered the tent. He was tall, almost as tall as Seth, had sandy brown hair and a mustache to match.

  "Ma'am," he said, tipping his hat. Then he turned to Seth. "How's the hand?"

  "It's definitely been better, but I heal up pretty fast. I shouldn't be useless for too long."

  "You can still ride in the grand parade, can't you?"

  Seth shot him a warning gaze. "I suppose I can manage that."

  "Then I guess you're not totally useless."

  As Shannon considered what all that meant, she gasped out loud. "What about our act?" she said to Seth.

  He glanced at her, looked down at his hand, and shook his head. "I can't catch you, and probably not for a couple of weeks. We'll just have to leave it out of the show."

  "Oh, but it's one of the highlights." Shannon was not about to give up her favorite act. "Can't we get someone else to catch me?"

  "That sounds like a good idea," Buck said with a grin. "I'd be happy to take on the job."

  His dark eyes squinty, his expression an inch short of a scowl, Seth said, "That sounds like a terrible idea. It's a dangerous act, one that needs a lot of practice."

  "No it isn't," Shannon insisted. "The horses know that act better than we do. If you let Buck ride Charlie, the act will be perfectly safe. If he's willing, we can even practice a little right now."

  "I'm willing," Buck said, his grin still in place.

  With a lot of grumbling and muttering, not all of it under his breath, Seth finally said, "I guess we can give it a try."

  Shannon's first impulse was to throw her arms around Seth and thank him in ways inappropriate considering there was another person in the room. Instead she simply said, "Thank you."

  "That remains to be seen, but for now, why don't you go to the corral and get Charlie and Stormy ready. Buck and I will be along shortly."

  The minute she left the tent, Seth said to Buck, "How many times have you seen the act?"

  Buck shrugged. "A few."

  "Then you pretty much know what to do?"

  "I think I can handle it just fine. Maybe I ought to go help Shannon with the horses."

  "In a minute," Seth said, keeping him right where he wanted him. "There's one other thing you should know. When you take Shannon in your arms after she falls, you don't really kiss her. You pretend to kiss her."

  Buck laughed. "Doesn't look much like pretend when you do it."

  Seth muttered under his breath and then said, "That's because I'm such a good actor. Just pull your hat down low and nobody will be able to tell that you're not really kissing her."

  Buck still had that idiotic grin on his mug as he said, "Anything else?"

  "Not that I can think of right now. Just be really careful."

  Buck touched the brim of his hat, spun on his heel and headed for the corral.

  Just before he walked through the tent flap, Seth called out a final order. "And remember—no kissing."

  * * *

  Standing in the shadows near the tent where performers could go for a drink of water or just plain privacy, Seth watched as Buck and Charlie galloped after Shannon and her runaway horse. His hand was throbbing, his mood was as black as his hair, and his jaw was so tight he feared he might crack a tooth.

  Then came the moment when Buck reached down to save the poor damsel. Seth almost couldn't look, but made himself watch the scene anyway. Shannon wound up lying in the dirt as planned, and then Buck rode back to her. As he dismounted and went to revive her, Seth noticed that Buck's hat was not pulled down low as instructed.

  "Damn fool," Seth spat out, wondering what the crowd would think of what would surely be a lousy performance.

  By then Buck had gathered Shannon into his arms. Then he bent his head and kissed her. Not a pretend kiss. And not a simple touch of the lips. But a real, way too long kiss. To add salt to the injury, the crowd went wild when the two stood and took their bows.

  By the time the pair returned to the staging area, the tendons in Seth's neck were so rigid he thought they might snap.

  "How'd we do?" Buck the idiot said.

  "You didn't follow my instructions."

  With his stupid grin in place, Buck shrugged. "I forgot to lower my hat, so I did what I had to do. Shannon didn't seem to mind."

  With a fairly audible grinding of his teeth, Seth reined in his temper and said, "Take the horses back to the corral."

  "Yes, boss." His grin even wider than before, he mounted Charlie, took hold of Stormy's reins, and rode off.

  "Well?" Shannon said. "What do you think?"

  "You don't want to know." After a glance at the performer's tent, he took hold of her arm and said, "We'll talk in here."

  As Seth had hoped, the room was empty. Careful to protect his injured hand, he pulled her into his arms and came down on her mouth. The kiss was short and not particularly sweet. When Seth released her, Shannon's expression was a mix of surprise and confusion.

  Touching a finger to her mouth, she said, "Why did you do that?"

  "I had to wipe that idiot's kiss off your lips."

  "Why?"

  "I told Buck not to kiss you, to pretend he was, but not to really do it." He bunched the fingers of his good hand into a fist. "He must not be smart enough to take directions."

  Shannon looked him square in the eye, and then she put her hands behind her back and paced in a small circle. After a moment of this, she stopped and asked, "Why would you tell Buck not to kiss me when that's what you do at every performance?"

  Chapter 12

  "You're insufferable."

  Shannon smiled. "So I've been told, but that doesn't answer the question. Why is it all right for you, but not Buck?"

  The path to this conservation was fraught with danger, but Seth couldn't think of a way out of it. He simply said, "I don't like him kissing you."

  The smile still in place, she cocked her head. "Why?"

  Seth blew out a sigh. "I don't know. Did you like him kissing you?"

  Shannon brought he
r finger to her chin, thinking about it, but she was taking too damn long. He also didn't care for her expression, a cross between a shy young thing and a woman who knew exactly what she was doing.

  At last Shannon said, "It wasn't a terrible kiss, and his mustache tickled my lip a little. I kinda liked it."

  Seth made a mental note to set fire to that mustache the next time he saw Buck. Then he took in some air and said, "I can grow a mustache if you like. I can get started on it today."

  She laughed then, but Seth didn't see the humor in the situation.

  Then she surprised him by saying, "Please don't grow a mustache. I like you just the way you are."

  Seth liked her just the way she was too, but where did they go from here? So far, she'd lasted longer than he'd ever expected and didn't show any signs that she was even thinking of giving up and heading home. Was it possible that she would stay on with the show—with him—for as long as they both enjoyed being a part of Bill's organization?

  Testing her a little, Seth pulled Shannon into his arms and dropped a gentle, but thorough kiss on her lips. Her response was more than he'd hoped for, an eagerness and passion that matched his own. As their kiss grew more urgent, Shannon knocked his hat off and began running her fingers through his hair. Seth was trying to figure a way to hold her closer without involving his injured hand when he heard voices outside the tent.

  He quickly set her away from him and whispered, "How was that? Better than Buck?"

  Shannon's cheeks were glowing, her eyes were bright, and Seth had never seen a smile as sensual.

  Lowering her gaze in an uncharacteristically shy fashion, she quietly said, "Tons better."

  If he wasn't sure they were about to be interrupted by other performers, Seth would have taken her back into his arms and maybe kept her there forever.

  As it was, he said, "I think it's time you got ready for your shooting act."

  She blinked, clearing the fog from her eyes. "Oh, my Lord. I forgot all about the show."

  "Me, too," Seth admitted. Then as she turned to leave he added, "And remember—no more kissing Buck."