“Kendall’s right. I need to get to work.” With no more distractions, his thoughts drifted back to Tabitha, and he wondered if perhaps Miss Hoity-Toity was watching them out her window. She was one aggravating woman, all right. One he’d let get under his skin. Best not to think about her at all, now that Dichelle had arrived. He had enough on his plate as it was.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
With the conclusion of Sunday service, Tabitha gathered her reticule off the pew and followed Aunt Roberta, as well as Hannah and Thom, out into the sunshine. Circles formed, men in one group and woman nearby, as residents living farther out of town were hungry for interactions with their neighbors. The circles fairly buzzed with chatter. Reverend Wilbrand’s sermon on the evils of alcohol indulgence seemed apropos for all the attention the Bright Nugget had gotten over the past few days.
Hunter hadn’t shown up. She told herself she was glad, but she was having a difficult time convincing her heart. Even after how he’d hidden the fact that he’d already made the decision about bringing more saloon girls into town when they had their heated discussion, but led her to believe otherwise.
The congregation had been shocked when Miss Bastianelli had come in quietly, a few moments after the service had started, and sat in the last pew by the door, then exited a few minutes before its conclusion. She was already down the hill and out of sight by the time the worshippers had emptied the church and began their social hour.
“I’m surprised she had the nerve to enter a house of worship,” Maude said, her plentiful wrinkles coming alive with her surprise. “First time I known of a soiled dove coming to church or staying in a hotel.”
Tabitha felt compelled to respond, having put up such a case to Hunter about Daisy and Philomena. “She’s a child of God, too, Maude. She has nowhere else to worship. If Reverend Wilbrand doesn’t mind, neither should we.”
“If you say so,” the mercantile owner mumbled, raising her brows.
“I agree with Tabitha,” Jessie added. “Who am I to judge others? My beginning was somewhat colored.”
Hannah nodded, gazing around the group. “I feel the same.”
“You’re all being very charitable,” Roberta said, brushing a hand down the front of her skirt. “But don’t forget, the element of Logan Meadows is changing. One person at a time. That’s how it begins. Next week someone will open another saloon, and then a gambling hall the next. Shall we keep an open mind to that too? Then the train will arrive with a carload of fallen women to fill the rooms and help keep your men happy.” Roberta flicked a quick look at Tabitha, and then went on. “What if Chase and Thom decided they needed a little time out this weekend? Will you kiss their cheeks and send them off to the saloon now?”
Dichelle walked quickly, keeping her eyes trained forward and her hands securely inside her fox-fur muff. Sitting in the last pew of the small country church had reminded her of home, her parents, and the life she’d left behind five years ago. As she descended the slight incline, she passed the quiet school, then headed straight for the saloon where she’d heard the sounds of construction going on earlier this morning on her way to the service. She wouldn’t think of home today. This was a new town. A new chance. Perhaps here someone of importance would hear her sing, and offer her a way to get to New York, and the stages of the plays she dreamed of acting in.
Arriving at the boardwalk between a doctor’s office and a small bakery, she crossed the deserted road. Seemed everyone was at the church. Without a hint of shyness, she opened the saloon door and stepped inside. Scents of coffee, wood shavings, and smoke enveloped her. She spotted Hunter working on the newly constructed stage.
“Ciao,” she called out cheerfully. Back in Soda Springs she’d heard the stories around town of how Hunter had become part owner of the Bright Nugget. She hadn’t thought anything could make the trail boss settle down. For as long as they’d been friends, he’d regaled her with stories of the wide-open spaces he loved so much. The dim interior she gazed at now was a far cry from that.
Hunter rolled back from his hands and knees and stood, brushing off the shavings that clung to his legs and hands. “Morning, Dichelle. How’s the room at the El Dorado? Does it suit you?”
A small jab of guilt pricked her mind. She’d felt bad about insisting on that—a nice large room in the best hotel, especially making the request of Hunter, but it couldn’t be helped. If she began staying in boardinghouses and saloons, her reputation as a performer would be tarnished. She had to act the part. With her head high, she continued over to her old friend.
“The accommodations are very nice, thank you.” She glanced around, never fully comfortable standing in a saloon. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to see the progress you’ve made.” She put her hand on one of the new posts and tested its strength. Unable to move it even the smallest amount, she smiled at the tall man watching at her side. “It’s very strong, amico mio.”
A niggle of loneliness pulled at her. Later, to dispel her melancholy and pass the long hours in her hotel room, she’d unpack her painting easel, canvas, and paints from her trunks and begin a new project. Something Western that depicted this town. That always lifted her spirits.
The back door opened. The man who’d been introduced to her as Kendall Martin came through carrying a garbage can. When he saw her, his face lit with pleasure. “Why, Miss Bastianelli, what brings you by the Bright Nugget this fine Sunday morning?” His red eyes and slow step attested to the late night he’d had.
“I wanted to see Hunter’s progress on the performance stage,” she said, nodding at the eight-foot-square landing. They wouldn’t be booking in any large acts. “When will it be finished?”
“It’s almost finished now,” Hunter said, assessing his work.
“When will I first perform?”
The two men looked at each other.
A devious smile pulled the older bartender’s lips. “I say we unveil our secret weapon on Tuesday evening! During the spinster’s reading. That’s coming up, you know.”
Hunter scowled. “I thought you liked Miss Canterbury.”
That brought Kendall up short. “Whaddaya mean?” he stammered. “’Course I like her! When she’s not being bossy.”
“I’ve never seen her bossing you about the saloon.”
Kendall hurried away and rounded the end of the bar, coming up along the backside. “You ain’t been to any town meetings.”
Hunter took a deep, calming breath. “Kendall, we’re not competing with Tabitha. Period. Not now, not ever. She can have her Tuesday nights, and we’ll plan on having our first big show nine o’clock Saturday night. Make a big splash when the bar is full.” Hunter paused and stroked his chin.
“What if none of the women let their men out? We’ll only get the bachelors.”
“I had a few censoring glances from the women in church,” Dichelle said. “Kendall may be right.”
Hunter just stood there tapping his boot on the floor. “On second thought, why don’t we have a preopening show, the day before, on Friday afternoon?”
“Friday afternoon?”
“Yes. Mrs. Preston seemed none too pleased with me yesterday. I don’t want to set every female in Logan Meadows against us from the start. We’ll have a women-only show.”
“The women!” Kendall barked, his face squished up like a prune. “They wouldn’t be caught dead in here.”
“I’m not so sure. If they’re curious about Dichelle now, wait until they find out she’s really a famous singer. They’ll want to see her clothing and culture. If the women partake—even just a few—how can they forbid their men from coming? At least it’s a start. We’re into Dichelle for quite a few dollars.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “With the women happy, I’ll bet we’ll sell a lot more tickets and pour more whiskey for the men.” Grinning, he plopped his hands on his hips in satisfaction and looked around. “We’ll call it Ladies’ Day Out.” He looked to the door and then back at Dichelle with a big smile. “Mis
s Canterbury isn’t the only one who can start a new trend in town. We’ll need to get a few posters up. And a few in New Meringue and Rock Springs as well.”
“We’re going to charge for the show?”
“Of course we’re going to charge for such fine entertainment as Miss Bastianelli! But only the men. A dollar a ticket.”
Hunter’s devilishly handsome smile made Dichelle laugh. He was such fun to be around. She’d had a crush on him since they’d met three years ago. She’d missed him when he took the job to go east. He insisted they were only friends, and treated her like a daughter. That still didn’t keep her from wishing.
“The women’s show will be complimentary, and we’ll pour coffee and tea.”
Kendall made another face. “And serve petits fours?” He held up his fingers as if putting a small something into his mouth.
“Cookies,” Hunter countered. “It’ll work, you’ll see.”
“Don’t seem fair that we let the women in for free. The men are paying a whole dollar.”
“We want them to come, don’t we? If we charge, we’ll only get a couple. What’s a few pots of coffee to us when the bar is normally quiet? Trust me. This will work.”
A sly smile began on Kendall’s face as his gaze meandered up to the ceiling. “I think you’re on to something, Partner,” he said, scratching his whiskered cheek.
“Of course I am, Partner.” Hunter laughed, and then winked at Dichelle. “I’m glad you’re finally starting to realize that.”
“This is all good and fine,” she said. “Do you have a competent piano player? One that will practice with me at least a couple of days.”
“Of course,” Hunter said. “Leave that all up to me.”
If the piano player was anything like the saloon, Dichelle had her doubts. Perhaps it had been a mistake to make Ned mad by leaving Soda Springs. The midsized town wasn’t so bad, after all. At least the crowd she’d been attracting filled the room. Here in Logan Meadows, she didn’t know what to expect. As much as she wanted to trust Hunter, she knew he was working on hope and prayers. But hope and prayers wouldn’t get her to New York.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Tabitha, have you seen this?” Susanna pushed through the bookstore door late Monday afternoon, her face alight with excitement. She held up a paper. “The owners of the Bright Nugget are inviting the women of Logan Meadows to a showing of Miss Bastianelli—”
Without waiting for Susanna to finish, Tabitha slipped the announcement from her friend’s fingers, her insides quaking. “You mean Mr. Wade and Mr. Martin,” she said just for something to say as she scanned the notice. Hunter would steal her audience away from her Tuesday evening reading with his fancy Italian saloon girl! Her heart felt like a scorched desert as she tried to find the date on the quivering, hand-printed paper. For the last two days, she’d missed speaking with him. They hadn’t traded a single barb since that young woman had arrived to Logan Meadows. As angry at herself as it made her to admit the fact, her emotions were taking a toll. She should have been smarter, guarded her heart.
“Tabitha? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just so sure the woman’s show would be tomorrow evening, the night of my reading.” She pointed to the date on the bottom of the flyer. “It’s Friday, at three in the afternoon. And then Saturday night for the open show. I’m just surprised is all.”
“Mr. Wade wouldn’t do that to you.” Susanna’s brows drew down and her reprimanding tone matched her expression. “He seems like a nice fellow. We’d all thought you both were moving toward—you know—getting sweet.”
“Well, you’re all wrong. He was tricked into coming to my birthday party. When I think of that night, I couldn’t be more humiliated if I tried.”
“You’re mistaken. I spoke with him several times. You’re being silly.”
Her friend didn’t understand. Tabitha would change the subject. She pointed to the paper. “I didn’t know she was a professional singer as well as a—well, you know—did you?”
“No. She must be really talented to say the least—as well as beautiful.”
That went without saying. “Where did you get this?” Tabitha asked.
“Mr. Wade brought it by the Silky Hen this morning and asked if he could tack it up on the news board by the door. Almost everyone that’s come in today read it. This was my first opportunity to bring it by.”
Kendall must have written the posters. Or, perhaps, Miss Bastianelli herself. . I should do a few of my own to place around town.
“What do you think?” Susanna asked.
“Think? About what?”
“The show!”
“In the saloon, Susanna? I wouldn’t dream of attending such an event. I already have enough troubles with Aunt Roberta as it is. Besides, if we went, we’d be encouraging the men in their salacious activities. Don’t you think?”
“That was my initial thought, but . . .” Susanna’s eyes brightened. “Roberta isn’t your mother. You shouldn’t give her so much power over you.” Her friend’s mouth scrunched to one side in contemplation. “I can’t decide how offensive it would actually be. How many chances like this will we get? To hear a professional singer, especially one who’s Italian. I’m sure she sings as beautifully as a bird. Albert said she arrived with a wagonload of trunks. Think of the dresses and gowns she must have. To tell you the truth, I’m intrigued.”
Jealousy clawed up Tabitha’s spine.
Susanna shrugged. “If we all went together in a group, it might be fun.” She stabbed the paper. “Says right here no men will be allowed in the saloon during the women’s show. The Bright Nugget is just a building. It’s what we do inside that would or wouldn’t be scandalous. Don’t you agree?”
Tabitha could easily see where this was going. “Have you talked to Albert yet? I can’t imagine he’d let you go.”
Her brow arched. “Let me go?”
“Yes! Let you go. He is your husband, remember?”
Susanna pulled up as tall as she could get. “No, I haven’t spoken with him yet. I came straight here.”
“I see. Would you like me to tag along to temper his outrage when you ask?” Already not herself over the invisible pitchfork of jealousy poking her backside, she struggled to push back her irritation.
Brenna burst through the front door, her face bright with excitement. She held a paper in her hand. “Have you seen—”
“Yes,” Tabitha and Susanna said in unison.
Brenna tipped her head. “I can’t imagine Gregory would be in favor of me attending an event in the Bright Nugget. What do you think?” She looked back and forth between them. “Susanna, what did Albert say?”
The excitement in Brenna’s voice was unmistakable. Her eyes shone with mischievousness. Susanna wasn’t the only one who wanted to go.
“I haven’t spoken with him yet.”
“He’s in his office. I saw him on my way here. Will he allow it? If he says yes first, I think that may influence Gregory. Everyone is talking about Miss Bastianelli, and I’m curious myself. As far as I know, besides church service on Sunday, she’s stayed holed up in her room.”
Tabitha glanced between her excited friends, a niggle of unease growing inside. Seemed Hunter Wade was a shrewder businessman than she’d given him credit for. He was looking for more than just the men in his saloon. He wanted everyone—even if it caused strife between the couples.
Albert smiled when Susanna stepped through the office door. She usually stopped by on her way home from the restaurant, and today was no different. He anticipated kissing her soft lips and spending a few minutes alone with his new bride. Nate was a gift from above, but private moments with Susanna weren’t bad either.
“Susanna, did you stop in for a kiss?” He stood to greet her, but pulled up the moment Brenna and Tabitha followed her through the door. The three looked between themselves before Susanna handed him a sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“Look and see,�
� Susanna responded sweetly.
Heat rose to Albert’s face. Did his wife actually want to go to a saloon show? Did the other women? Impossible!
“What do you think?” Susanna asked, expectantly looking into his face. “Would one show hurt?”
“I’d think a saloon show in the Bright Nugget would be the last place you’d ever want to go. You know what goes on inside a tavern. Actually, I’m flabbergasted you’re even asking.”
“She’s a professional singer, Albert,” Brenna said, standing beside Susanna, her voice low but steady.
Albert considered Brenna, then Susanna, all the while rubbing his chin in deep thought. Tabitha stood a step behind, her gaze unwavering. This could easily get out of hand if he put his foot down. He had to walk lightly. It was three against one. “I’ll admit, I don’t know much about the woman. What did Gregory say?”
“I haven’t spoken with him yet.”
“Are you planning to go on Saturday night?” Susanna asked, gazing expectantly into his face.
He dropped his attention back to the paper in his hands. The women-only show was at three o’clock on Friday afternoon with another showing the next evening at nine. It didn’t specifically say for the men, but that’s what everyone would think. “I’m the sheriff. I have to go and make sure no one gets too rowdy. You know, to keep the peace.”
Characteristically, one of Susanna’s eyebrows slowly arched.
Brenna crossed her arms.
Tabitha stared, unblinking.
“It’s my job to go, ladies. Not something I want, or like, to do.”
If he put up a fuss, Susanna was sure to dig in her heels. After the few months they’d been married, he knew her well enough to know what her reaction would be. He glanced between the faces, realizing they had safety in numbers. He wouldn’t mind a little backup himself before he made a stand. What if he said no, but the other men said yes. He didn’t favor his wife going by any means, but he also didn’t want to be in the doghouse for months either. They were practically still on their honeymoon.
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