Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Note From The Author
A Sneak Peek at Wild Honey Book 3 of the Meadowlark Trilogy
About the Author
Silver Springs
Carolyn Lampman
Silver Springs
Copyright © 2018 - Carolyn Brubaker
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
Formatting: Wild Seas Formatting
Editor: Gretchen Kent
Cover art: Kelly Martin
Proofreading: Emilee Bowling
Published by
RED CANYON PRESS
4530 W. Mountain View Dr.
Riverton, WY 82501
Dedication
To my “twins”, Ann and Barbara. I am truly in awe of your talents.
To Jared who unknowingly lent me his name when he was nine, and talked me into writing that last chapter when he was thirty. You truly are my favorite son-in-law.
Angel
I thought I saw you the other day,
But when I blinked you slipped away;
Then I nearly called to you,
Except I wasn’t certain who.
I could have sworn I saw your smile,
Your twinkling eyes that so beguile;
But the one who did replace
Seemed to have a different face.
How could I have been deceived,
I know you well I do believe,
Somehow I never saw you change,
I must have missed your rearrange.
Then I went and blinked once more,
And you were there just like before;
That’s what caused my baffled stare
To see you here, just resting there.
Louis R. Lampman 3/31/95
Chapter 1
Wyoming Territory 1872
“There’s a gentleman wants to see you, Angel.” The bartender glared toward the back of the casino. “I put him in your office.”
Angel was surprised. Sam rarely disapproved of anyone, but she could almost swear his thick eyebrows and full mustache were bristling. “Who is it?”
“Said his name was Goff.”
“Never heard of him. What does he want?”
“I don’t know. Said he’d only talk to the owner of The Green Garter.” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Want me to throw him out?”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think I should find out what he wants first?”
“Maybe. I ain’t so sure I’d want to know.”
Angel could hardly wait to meet this Mr. Goff and see for herself what had ruffled the taciturn Sam’s feathers. “Don’t worry. If he needs to be bounced out of here, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Can’t wait,” Sam muttered and went back to polishing the mahogany bar.
“By the way,” Angel said as she headed toward the back, “will you tell Peg I want to see her when Mr. Goff leaves?”
“Why? She done something wrong?” Sam’s disapproval was suddenly focused on Angel.
“Nothing for you to worry about. Just send her in.”
Angel walked into her office without waiting to hear the protest she knew was coming. She smiled to herself as she closed the door behind her. Sam protected the women who lived and worked at The Green Garter as if they were his own daughters.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Goff,” she said pleasantly to the man sitting in front of her desk. He was handsome in an overblown sort of way. Everything about him screamed money, from the expertly barbered set of sideburns to the elegantly cut coat and the large gold watch fob that stretched across his red and black brocade vest. “What can I do for you?”
He turned as she entered the room then jumped to his feet when he saw her. “There’s been some kind of mistake. I’m here on business, not pleasure. However,” he said, giving her an appreciative once over, “after I’ve talked to your boss, I’m sure you and I could think of some way to while away the afternoon that we’d both enjoy.”
“I doubt it.” Angel calmly walked around her desk and sat on the only other chair in the room. It was hardly the first time she’d been mistaken for one of the “girls” that worked at The Green Garter, but it rankled. Men like Goff had no concept of a woman who could run a successful business. “My bartender said you wanted to see the owner of The Green Garter, and that’s me.”
“But you’re a woman!”
“How very perceptive of you to notice,” Angel said. “At risk of repeating myself, what can I do for you?”
He sat down uncertainly. “I’ve never done business with a woman before.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Very true.” He steepled his fingers and gazed at her. “I want to buy this place.”
“The Green Garter is not for sale.”
Goff smiled confidently. “You haven’t heard the deal I’m offering you yet.”
“That’s also true. However, I doubt it would change my mind.”
“Not even for ten thousand dollars?”
Angel blinked. “I must admit, that’s a very attractive offer. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you willing to pay so much?”
“Because,” he made an expansive gesture. “This place fits me. The minute I walked in, I felt right at home.”
Probably because it’s over-decorated and vulgar, Angel thought, eyeing the crimson waistcoat with distaste. He was right, of course. The Green Garter’s slightly garish wallpaper and crystal chandelier did fit him. The lavish interior of the casino had been designed to impress.
“Naturally, that includes all the equipment and stock,” he continued, “as well as the girls.”
“The girls?”
“Of course. You have one of the nicest stables of working girls I’ve ever seen. That’s one of the things that impressed me about this place.”
“My girls are not for sale either,” Angel said coldly. “In case you missed it, President Lincoln abolished slavery nine years ago.”
“Oh, come now, we both know they sell themselves for a living. I suppose next you’ll be telling me you don’t take a percen
tage of their earnings.”
Angel stood up. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time, Mr. Goff. The Green Garter is not for sale.”
“Don’t be so hasty,” he said, rising to his feet. “You’re not likely to get as good an offer from anyone else.”
“It wouldn’t matter if I got a better one. The fact remains; this place is not for sale. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather pressing business to attend to.”
Goff rose reluctantly. “All right, but at least give my proposition some thought.”
“I will,” she said, walking him to the door. “But it won’t make any difference.”
“You might change your mind.”
“If I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
He smiled. “Good. I’ll be at the Sherlock Hotel for the next couple of days. I’m sure you’ll reconsider.”
“When hell freezes over,” she murmured as he walked away.
“Since he’s walking out of here in one piece, I guess the proposition he made you wasn’t what it sounded like,” said a deep voice from the shadows.
Angel whirled and peered into the dark hallway outside her office. “Ox?”
“Who else?” he asked, sauntering out into the light. His tall, broad-shouldered frame seemed to fill the hallway as he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “How’s my favorite redhead?”
“I ought to box your ears,” she said. “You scared me half to death. How did you get in here anyway?”
“Sam let me in the back door so I could put your supplies in the store room.” He grinned. “I got your new roulette wheel.”
Angel’s eyes lit up. “You did? Where is it?”
“It’s out in the freight wagon. Found it in Omaha.”
“No wonder you have the reputation for being the best freighter around. I didn’t figure there was one within a thousand miles.”
“At Bruford Freight Lines, we do everything we can to please our customers,” Ox said. “I suppose you want to see it?”
“What do you think?”
He made a sweeping motion toward the back door with his hand. “After you.”
“Hold on a second.” Angel ducked back inside her office and grabbed her coat. Her heart was still pounding as she walked by Ox a few moments later, but it had more to do with Ox Bruford himself than the fright he’d given her. Those gorgeous green eyes and his rugged good looks always made her feel like a giddy debutante, a silly girl in the throes of her first love. One look at that heart-stopping grin of his, and she’d catch herself daydreaming about running her hands through his thick brown hair and tracing the hard line of his jaw with her fingers. Luckily, he had no idea of the effect he had on her. The last thing she needed was for him to discover her weakness.
“I suppose this is going to cost me a small fortune,” she grumbled to hide the vulnerability he made her feel.
“Actually, I got it secondhand. Even with the cost to ship it to Rock Springs by rail, it was less than you budgeted for.” He followed her outside. “Of course, it’s going to cost you extra for bringing it up the mountain in the dead of winter like this.”
Angel glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“How about an apple pie to go with supper?”
Angel stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Now, where am I going to get apples in South Pass City this time of year?”
“I just happen to have a dozen right here.” Ox reached under the tarpaulin that covered his load and pulled out a flour sack. “A widow down in Green River gave me some of her winter’s store out of undying gratitude.”
Angel cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think I want to know what you did to deserve them.”
“A trifling service,” Ox said, waving his hand.
“I’ll bet.” Angel had no doubt the widow didn’t consider the matter trifling. All that masculine appeal was pretty hard to resist, especially when it came with a heart as big as Wyoming Territory. Angel found it in her to feel a little sorry for the widow. “All right,” she said, picking up the sack of apples, “I’ll bake you a pie. I take it you’re planning on staying the night?”
“Of course. Since you’re the only customer who gives me room and board for bringing in supplies, I have to take advantage of it when I can.”
Angel gave an unladylike snort. “I figured it would be a lot cheaper than paying those exorbitant rates you charge. But, the way you eat, I’m not sure I got the better end of the bargain.”
Ox’s eyes twinkled. “Sorry, a deal’s a deal. It’s too late to change now. Anyway, this should make you feel better about it,” he said, throwing back the tarp. “Madam, your new roulette wheel.”
“Oh, Ox!” she cried. “It’s mahogany. How beautiful.”
“It matches your bar,” he said with a smile. “Story is, it came off a riverboat, one of those floating palaces.”
Angel ran her hands reverently over the polished wood, delighting in the rich red hue. “You know, I might have to bake you an extra pie to take with you for this. It’s far nicer than I’d hoped.”
“Who’s that unsavory-looking character across the street?” Ox asked suddenly. “I don’t like the way he keeps staring at you.”
Angel glanced up and followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s just Jim Dugan,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“I don’t think he’s one of your admirers,” Ox said, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the street. “In fact, he looks distinctly unfriendly.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.” Angel frowned. “He got a little too rough with one of the girls last night. I had to ask him to leave.”
“He looks angrier than that.”
“I suppose it could have something to do with the way I got my point across,” Angel admitted. “He was as ornery as an old boar grizzly, refusing to go, making a nuisance of himself. He made the mistake of grabbing me.”
“Where was Sam?”
“Downstairs at the bar where he belongs. It didn’t matter. A well-placed knee took care of the problem.”
Ox winced. “Ouch. That’s hardly the way to endear yourself to your customers.”
“I can do without customers like Jim Dugan, thank you.” She pushed herself away from the wagon. “And I have better things to do than stand here chit chatting about him all day. Do you have other deliveries to make in South Pass City?”
“Nope. You’re the last, and all I have left of yours is the roulette wheel. Where do you want me to put it?”
“Right where the old one was. I’ll send Sam out to give you a hand.”
“We’ll have it set up and working by supper time.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m looking forward to that pie.”
“You’ve earned it,” Angel said over her shoulder. She stopped in surprise just inside the back door. A willowy young brunette stood against the wall, her blue eyes wide and frightened as she tried to fade into the woodwork. “Good heavens, Peg, what’s wrong?”
“Sam said you wanted to see me.”
“I do, but it’s nothing to be afraid of. My plans just changed so I don’t have time to meet with you right now, though. How about dropping by my office right after closing tonight?”
“I guess so.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Peg. Don’t look like that. I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Now cheer up!”
Peg gave her a fleeting smile. “All right.”
“That’s much better.” Angel glanced at the gold watch pinned to the bodice of her green taffeta dress. “Would you mind getting a bath ready for Ox? He always likes to take one as soon as he gets in off the trail.”
“I’d be glad to, but don’t you usually do that?”
“Yes. However, today I have something more pressing to attend to.” She smiled and held up the sack of apples. “I have a pie to bake.”
It was well after midnight when Peg nervously entered Angel’s office. “M...my last customer just left,” she said.
“
Good. Have a seat.” Angel closed the door. “Rumor has it you and young Fenwick are thinking about getting married.”
Peg, who had just settled gingerly on the edge of the chair, jumped to her feet in alarm. “Jayson pays for my time, just the same as everyone else.”
“Relax, Peg. Nobody’s accusing you of anything.” Angel put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder and gently pushed her down onto the chair again before walking around behind the desk. “Do you plan on marrying him?”
“He’s asked me.” Peg glanced miserably down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “But we’d have to start over somewhere else, and that takes money.”
“If money weren’t a problem, would you marry him?”
“Quicker than a cat could lick its ear.”
“Good.” Angel opened her safe and pulled out a small leather pouch. “I went to the bank this afternoon and made a withdrawal for you.”
Peg gave her a blank look. “I don’t have any money in the bank.”
“On the contrary, you had seven hundred dollars,” Angel said with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind gold dust.”
“Seven hundred dollars!” Peg’s eyes widened in astonishment. “But where—”
“This is my cut of your earnings; I’ve been keeping track since the night you started.” Angel pushed the pouch across the desk. “I make my money off the casino, not what the brothel brings in. You and the others are the drawing cards here, but I don’t figure I have any right to the money you make. Other than a little I take out each month for food and expenses, it’s all here.”
“I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just take it and start your new life as Mrs. Fenwick. I do ask that you keep this to yourself, though. Don’t tell Jayson until you’re well away from South Pass City. Sam doesn’t even know.”
“But why?”
“I have a reputation as a hard-nosed business woman to protect. No one would believe it if they knew I do this for my girls.” Angel smiled as she rose to her feet and walked around the desk to the door. “Unless my eyes deceived me, your young man was waiting for you at the bar.”
“Oh, Miss Angel,” Peg cried. With tears running down her face, she hugged the other woman. “Thank you with all my heart.”
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