No, in this small town, her reputation for wearing pants had just kept her from getting a job. Even after the woman had seen Meg’s dress designs, she’d still refused to hire Meg.
What if she didn’t find any work? What would happen to them if they lost the farm?
She walked past the Chinese laundry. A “help wanted” sign sat in the window. Stopping, Meg plastered a smile on her face and entered the small establishment that smelled of starch and steam.
A man in what looked like white pajamas stared at her as she entered the building.
“You no wear dress?”
Good grief. Even in a Chinese laundry she had to answer questions as to why she didn’t wear a dress.
She ignored his remark. “I’m looking for a job. I’m a seamstress. I can make repairs, sew buttons, sew clothes. Do you need help?”
“If you sew, why no wear dress?” he asked.
“Because I don’t own one that fits,” she responded, her voice raised as frustration grabbed her by the throat. God, she wanted to dress like a woman, really she did. But there were no funds for fancy clothes. And she could wear her Papa’s pants without purchasing anything new.
He frowned at her and eyed her suspiciously. “Start tomorrow morning at eight. I pay you a nickel a piece.”
“A nickel a piece? Not enough. I need at least a dime a piece.”
“How do I know you sew? You start at nickel, and we’ll see how you work out.”
Meg frowned. She needed this job, and so far this was her only hope. “All right. I’ll be here at eight in the morning. But once I prove I can sew, I’ll expect a raise.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be late.”
“Thank you.” She walked out the door and hurried back toward the main part of town. A job. She’d gone from the pits of despair to at least being given a chance. Yet, he was paying her terrible wages. She would have to fix or repair one hundred pieces just to earn five dollars.
With a heavy heart, she walked toward her horse. This morning she’d let Annabelle and Ruby take the buggy while she’d ridden her horse into town. Getting them all to town on time every morning, plus doing their chores, was going to be a challenge. They had no choice, but to cope or face the consequences of losing the farm.
Passing the sheriff’s office, she halted and peered in the window. Zach sat there writing in a notebook, his dark hair cropped short, his strong cheekbones held a shadow of stubble. She sighed as she peeked in the window at him. The sheriff was a muscular man who had her heart racing a little faster when she gazed at him.
No one else was in the calaboose. She stepped back and opened the door.
He glanced up from his paper and smiled. “Meg, good to see you.”
“You too, Zach.” Her heart did a little flutter when she looked at the handsome cowboy. His brawny body, warm smile and dark hair were enough to make a girl’s tongue get all tied up in knots. Even Meg’s tongue.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.” His big eyes darkened with sympathy, and she had the urge to fall into his arms and let him comfort her. But that was ridiculous. They hadn’t even shared a kiss or done any courtin’ whatsoever, and she wanted to fall into his arms? Hardly.
“Yes, it was so unexpected,” she said, grief swelled up inside her at the thought of her papa, almost choking her with the ache. When would the pain become bearable? Every time she thought of him, it was like her chest squeezed, and she could feel tears forming. No tears. There could be no tears. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course. Have a seat. Can I get you some water, something to drink? We don’t have much here in the jail.”
Sinking down into a wooden chair across from the big man, she tried to calm her rattled nerves. “No, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath, trying to control her pounding heart. How do you begin to ask a man to marry you? How do you start? What do you say to persuade him to marry a pants-wearing woman with more responsibilities than she deserved at this stage in life?
He leaned back in his chair and considered her, his gaze leaving her warm and tingly.
“You’ve always been nice to me.”
“Well, of course. A man would be crazy not to be nice to a pretty woman like yourself,” he said, smiling at her, his earthy brown eyes twinkling, leaving her even more ruffled.
Meg did her best to return his smile. Maybe he was the answer to her prayers. “With Papa’s death, it’s just me and the girls living out at the farm. It’s hard not to have a man in our lives.”
Zach leaned forward. “Meg, any time you need help, let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help you girls out. It’s the least I can do. Your dad was a good man.”
“Thanks.” Meg wondered if she should use some of the tactics her youngest sister utilized—flash her eyes at him, flirt, and put a pout on her lips—but that was just weird. It made her cringe when she thought of pulling a Ruby stunt. Yet, they worked for her youngest sister.
“The girls and I would love for you to come to dinner,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap, more nervous than a bride on her wedding night.
“That would be nice. I get tired of eating my own cooking or what’s served at the restaurant. I’d love some home cooking.”
She didn’t know how to flirt and bat her eyes at a man. She didn’t know how to be coy and seductive. She didn’t play cat and mouse games with anyone. She was a straight shooter. A woman who told you like it was, and if you didn’t want to play, then get out of the way. She didn’t know how to play flirtatious games.
Nerves gripped her insides like a dog with a meaty bone. “Look, I’m not good at this flirting stuff. You’re nice to me, and I hope it’s more than just being friendly.” She paused and then took the plunge. “I need a husband. And you were my first choice.”
His brows rose and he stared her, his face almost frozen in place.
Oh, God, she was making a fool of herself. She was halfway in; she might as well look like a complete old maid desperate for a man.
“I don’t know if you’re wanting to get married, but I like you. I’m not a woman who needs hearts and flowers. Just a good honest man who wants to spend the rest of his life with me and raise a family. Of course, you’d also be taking on my sisters until they marry. I’m not hard to get along with. But I expect total honesty, no drinking, and I need some help with the farm. So what do you think?”
The man’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Finally, he shut his lips and swallowed. “Can I think about it and get back to you?” He stumbled. “This—this is kind of sudden. How soon do you need to know?”
Meg shrugged. “Pretty quickly. We’ve got the farm, and I need some help there.”
She wasn’t going to tell him about the mortgage until he’d agreed to join her herd. Then he could join forces and work toward saving the farm.
“I don’t want a big wedding. It would probably be just the two of us and my sisters. And anyone you’d like to invite, of course,” she said, nervously wringing her hands in her lap, her stomach churning with the urge to throw up.
“Of course.” Sitting back, he contemplated her across his desk.
He didn’t say anything, and an awkward silence filled the room. She licked her lips as anxiety tightened its hold on her stomach, until she feared she would puke right there in his office.
“Well, I better let you get back to work. You think about it and let me know,” she said, rising from the chair.
“I’ll do that.” His response was curt and to the point. He rose and acted like he would walk her to the door.
She walked to his side and thinking of Ruby, she told herself to act boldly. She reached up and kissed him on the lips. It was just a peck, an awkward brush of her lips against his, but still it was the beginning. It wasn’t bad for a first kiss. His brows rose and when she released his lips, his mouth opened like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.
Okay, so maybe most women didn’t make the first move, but if he was truly interest
ed in being with her, they needed to skip a few steps and go right to the courting stage. After all, they could be standing in front of a sin-buster, saying their vows any day now.
She leaned back from him. “Please, can we keep this our little secret for now?”
If the town gossips found out about her marriage proposal, they would be going from house to house with her scandalous proposition. She’d never live the ridicule down and would never have another marriage proposal in this small town.
He held up his right palm as if he were swearing to tell the truth. “Sure. No one needs to know.”
She smiled at him and placed her hand on his arm.
“Later, sheriff,” she said and hurried out the door.
God, she hoped she hadn’t just made a complete ass out of herself.
Chapter 3
A week passed with Meg working eight hours during the day at the laundry and then taking pieces of the mending home with her to work on at night. In seven days, she’d completed seventy pieces, and slowly the stack of work was going down. She had at least another weeks worth of work before she’d be caught up and could handle the pieces as they came in.
Before she went home, she had an important question for her boss. “Cho Linn, when are you going to pay me?”
The man’s face grew serious, his dark eyes cold. He waved his hand away. “Not today. Not this week.”
“So when?” she asked.
“When you finish.”
“But I need money now.”
“Not now.”
Meg gazed at the man, her Irish temper flaring inside like kindling on a fire. “Don’t think you can double cross me. I will get my pay.”
“Next week, next week,” he said. “Now go home.”
She gave him one last glare and then walked out the door. She still had to pick up Annabelle and Ruby, and then there were chores to do.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach, reminding her she’d not eaten today. Seldom did she eat lunch, and supper had been lean the last few nights. They were living off the eggs and the chickens, and they wouldn’t last forever. Their hen house was on the small side, and though the eggs were lovely, occasionally they killed a hen just to get meat. They craved meat, but eventually, the hens would run out. Then what would they eat?
Tonight, Zach was coming to dinner. All Meg could think to do was to kill one of her laying chickens. They needed something in their diet besides eggs.
Meg walked down the alley to where the horse and buggy were tied. The smell of burning applewood tempted her nose, and she breathed in deeply, remembering how her father used to smoke hams and turkeys. Sometimes, he’d use mesquite, and sometimes, he’d use applewood, but no matter what he used, the meat always tasted flavorful.
A pang of grief gripped her chest, and she gasped to keep from doubling over in pain at the memory of her father. They’d lost so much when he’d passed. Now they had no one.
Ambling down the alley, she wasn’t paying attention until she realized she was standing and watching a ham turning on a spit over a fire pit. She was hungry. She was starving. She was sick of eggs, and there was a roasting ham, the smell radiating through the air like a beacon for beggars.
Thank God, it was too hot for her to take because she didn’t think she had the strength to resist. Except, a second ham lay wrapped and cooling on the table. These people had two hams. Two and she needed one to feed her sisters. Just one to keep them from starving. One to serve to Zach at dinner tonight.
She glanced down the alley; there was no one around. Quickly, she yanked the ham off the table and ran as fast as she could down the path. She’d never stolen anything in her life. Surely, she could be forgiven just this once.
Annabelle glanced around the crowded restaurant and sighed. Today was her third day working in the Rusty Café. She’d never eaten here before and after witnessing the dirty kitchen, she never would. No, it wasn’t the best work, but it was a paying job. And they needed the money.
“Order up,” Rusty yelled from the back.
Annabelle hurried through the tables toward the kitchen. Rusty’s wife handed her the two plates.
“Get ‘em out there before they get cold,” Georgina told her brusquely. The woman was less than friendly and even appeared downright rude most of the time.
“Yes, ma’am,” Annabelle replied, her feet already moving toward the table whose order she held. It was a job. A way to help save their family farm, and she could put up with just about anything as long as she made some money.
Leaning over to place the plates in front of a cowboy, she felt his hand on her butt. She tensed and had to remind herself not to dump his lunch over the top of his head.
“Thanks, darling.”
She glared at him and smiled, her voice steely. “Sir, if you don’t want your lunch in your lap, I would recommend you remove your hand immediately.” She stared at him her look colder than a Montana blizzard. “This isn’t the saloon.”
He dropped his hand. “Sorry, you’re so young and sweet looking. You’re hard to resist.”
“That’s not the way to win my heart,” she commanded, setting the plates down. “Anything else, gentleman?”
“Nope, I think that will do,” the groper replied, giving her a warm smile she wanted to scratch off his face.
“Good. Enjoy your meal.”
She hurried off to see if the next table’s order was ready and then to see to some new arrivals. The work was non-stop during the breakfast, lunch, and supper hour. In fact, her sisters had waited for her at least twice this week. So far, it was a job, nothing more.
During lunch, it was non-stop, and then afterwards there was always something they had for her to do. Sometimes, Annabelle wondered if letting go of the farm wouldn’t have been easier. They could have gone somewhere new and had a fresh start.
“Annabelle, get in here,” Rusty, the owner called.
She went into the kitchen.
“Hey, love, would you mind taking out that trash there?”
“Sure,” she replied. “Watch and don’t let table four leave without paying.”
“Okay,” he said, grinning.
She bent over to pick up the bucket of trash and felt him lift her skirt. A large warm hand massaged her butt. What was it with the men in this restaurant? Did they just think she was available for them to grope?
She whirled around and almost threw the trash bucket at him. She dropped it to the floor. “Stop! Get your hands off me!”
He smiled. “Oh, honey.” He winked. “You enjoy it. I know you do.”
The urge to lift her skirt and pull out her shootin’ iron, had her fingers twitchin’. She would certainly enjoy watching him dance to the sound of her bullets.
“No, I do not enjoy your hands on my ass. Keep them to yourself,” she scolded firmly and picked up the trash facing him. From now on, she’d be watching Rusty. She wouldn’t turn her back on him again.
When she came back inside from emptying the trash, he yelled, “Table three’s order is up.”
He smiled at her and blew her a kiss when she picked up the order. She scowled at him.
Her feet were killing her, and the lunch rush usually lasted at least two hours. She still had another hour before she could sit down and count her tips. And then when she arrived home, the smell of food would linger on her clothes and she couldn’t stomach the thought of eating. Two weeks in, and she was beginning to hate this job.
“Lady,” some man yelled. “My coffee cup has been empty for the last twenty minutes.”
What an exaggeration. “I’m coming your way.”
A woman sat in the corner watching her. Well dressed in the latest women’s fashions, she almost seemed too fancy to be in a restaurant like this. A hat sat jauntily on the top of her head; her cheeks and lips were a brilliant red.
After Annabelle had given the man his coffee, she walked over to the fancy woman’s table. “What can I get for you today? The specials are roast beef—”
&n
bsp; “Honey, I don’t eat in this establishment.” She laid a card on the table and pushed it toward Annabelle. “You’re quite beautiful. You could be earning a lot more money.”
“Uh, thank you,” Annabelle said, feeling confused. If the woman was a calico queen just like she thought, then what was she doing here talking to Annabelle?
She laughed. “I bet you’re still as innocent as the day you were born.”
A blush crept up Annabelle’s face, and she didn’t know how to respond to the woman. Who was she?
“I just stopped in here because I heard the boys talking about Rusty’s new hired help. When you get tired of being paid nothing, being groped by the scalawags in this establishment, then contact me. The hours are longer, but the pay is much better.”
Annabelle picked up her card and gasped. The woman ran the Happy Days Brothel. Catering to a man’s pleasures, the card said, and Annabelle felt her heart leap into her throat.
She stared at the woman in surprise. Annabelle’s image of a prostitute didn’t match the woman’s appearance.
The woman laughed. “Yes, you’re an innocent. You know we could use that to your advantage. We could sell your virginity. You’d bring in top dollar.”
Oh, my God. The woman wanted Annabelle to sell her virginity? Really? They were certainly desperate, but she wasn’t ready to earn her living on her back. Not yet anyway.
“I’m not interested,” Annabelle spat out. Her mouth felt like it was filled with dust.
“I understand, but keep my card just in case you get enough of being a waitress.” She rose from the table and smiled at her. “Good day, Annabelle. Come see me.”
Annabelle watched the woman walk out the door, her head held high, wearing the latest fashion and looking so regal, while Annabelle wore food stains and smelled of today’s special.
Lipstick and Lead Series: The Complete Box Set With a Bonus Book Page 5