Charlene Sands (16 page)

C
ole entered the Silver Saddle with trepidation. He’d warned himself to stay away from Kate, but he couldn’t allow his personal feelings to interfere with his duty as sheriff. Making nightly rounds was part of the job, seeing that there was no trouble brewing in town. And just a short while ago, Cole had spied a rowdy bunch of cowpunchers entering the saloon.

The smoke-filled saloon, crowded and noisy with mingled sounds of piano tunes, husky voices and an occasional burst of laughter struck him hard like a swift punch to his insides. Kate’s business was succeeding. He glanced around and found her smiling and serving up drinks to a table of men.

Cole strode over to the bar and leaned in, his back to Kate. Josh noticed him, frowned and managed to fill his time serving all the others at the bar first before coming his way. “What’ll it be, Sheriff?”

“Beer.” Cole had to look up to meet Josh’s eyes. “She always serve the drinks?” he asked.

Josh lifted a brow, glanced at Kate then shook his head. “No, I usually do, when it’s slow. As you can see, business is booming tonight. Kate is pitching in.”

A tic worked at Cole’s jaw. Hell, she shouldn’t be serving the drinks. She owned the saloon—couldn’t she hire someone else to do that? She was the only woman amid a congested roomful of men and she was waiting on them. Cole didn’t know what he’d find when he came in here, but now he regretted his decision. It was a brutal reminder of the differences between him and free-spirited Kate.

Cole gritted his teeth.

Kate came up to the end of the bar, her face flushed, her smile bright. “Two more whiskeys, one beer and throw in a dish of candies, Josh. We’ve got a table full of men with a sweet tooth.”

Cole glanced at the glass case behind the bar, filled with items usually sold at the general store. A deep scowl pulled his lips down. Pretty soon, she’d be selling Mrs. Whittaker’s lace and bonnets in here, too.

Cole sipped his beer, his stomach churning.

When she didn’t acknowledge him, he knew it was for the best. He’d finish his drink and walk out. He’d seen what he’d come here to see.

Kate had what she wanted. There was no doubt the Silver Saddle would profit now. There was no doubt she’d live her life running this saloon. And there was no doubt that he and Kate had no future together. The burn of truth went deep and scorched him unmercifully.

Cole turned to lean his back against the bar, getting a last glimpse at Kate. She looked so darn pretty tonight, with her hair pinned up in curls, shining coppery red from the overhead lights. She wore a gown of green satin that fit her curves snugly and shimmered when she walked. He took another gulp of beer and watched her smile and greet her customers. Men gawked and flirted. Cole had set his mug down, fixing to leave, when he noted a young randy cowboy manhandling Kate. She pushed at him to move away, but he gripped her waist and tried bringing her down onto his lap.

Fury unleashed, Cole strode quickly to the table, the man’s loud, indecent proposal flaming his temper. “Aw, come on, we can just go on into one of them back rooms and—”

Cole gripped Kate’s shoulders, moving her aside, then reached down, hoisted the man up to full height and landed a solid, hard jab to the man’s jaw. The cowboy reeled back, shook his head then lunged for Cole. He was only too glad to punch him again, this time in the gut. The man groaned then went down, collapsing onto the floor. Cole stared at him, waiting. He didn’t get up. Half a dozen of his friends clustered around him. One man tapped his face, trying to revive him. Finally the man came to.

Cole steadied his breaths. “Get him out of here,” he ordered. “And don’t any of you come back. Ever.”

“Cole!”

Kate’s angry voice startled him. He looked at her once, noting her irate expression and not caring one damn bit, then surveyed the room. Everyone fell silent.

“If anyone shows this lady an ounce of disrespect, they’ll have to answer to me. No one touches her. No one says an unkind word. No one makes any sort of indecent remark. You all got that? ’Cause if not, I’d be more than willing to toss them into my jail and forget where I stored the key.”

A voice from the far corner of the crowded room shouted out, “She your woman, Sheriff?”

Cole didn’t hesitate, the truth dawning on him faster than a wild prairie fire. “She’s my woman.”

Kate stood next to him, dumbfounded. Cole had never seen her speechless before. Heat rose up her cheeks and colored her skin rosy pink.

Cole turned his attention to the cowboys filtering out and taking their bloodied friend with them. Once satisfied that he’d gotten everything under control, Cole made his way to the door. As he was leaving, he heard Kate say, “Start up the music again, Shady.”

Cole slammed the door and headed for home, the din of the saloon muted clamor to his ears now.

Once Kate found her voice and gathered her anger, she followed Cole outside. Without a word to her, he’d left. Just like that, he’d made a humiliating declaration, nearly destroyed her business and then, without
so much as a tip of his hat, he’d left. She spotted him heading toward home.

“Cole Bradshaw, you had no right,” she called out.

He kept walking.

“I had that situation under control.”

He kept walking.

Kate picked up her pace and followed him.

“He was a drunken cowboy. I knew how to handle him.”

The jingle of Cole’s spurs was the only sound on the street. He kept walking.

“You chased men out of my saloon!” Infuriated, Kate lifted her skirts and nearly caught up to him. He kept walking.

“Damn it, Cole. I am
not
your woman.”

Cole stopped then, turned and, within two large strides, faced her. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her up, crushing her to his chest. “Oh,” she gasped. Their bodies meshed, hip to hip as his lips crashed down on hers.

Heat consumed her, a searing potent flame of desire that swept all rational sense from her head. Cole’s lips pressed down hard, demanding and intoxicating her with his familiar expert mouth. He kissed her again and again, drawing her up, rubbing their bodies, growling into her mouth. Their tongues mated fiercely as though they’d been starved and sought sustenance and solace from the heady union.

Kate’s bones melted, her insides shredding to nothing but
Cole—the taste of him, the all-powerful feel of his hardened body ready to take release. He touched her everywhere with hands that knew her so well. She moaned and fell into him, clinging for her life.

His heartbeats, rapid and strong, pounded in rhythm with hers. They kissed on the darkened street until kissing wasn’t enough. Cole pulled away first, his body trembling. His hot gaze probed hers. “Tell me now you’re not my woman.”

Kate couldn’t respond, the truth, the pain of it, too difficult to bear. She bit down hard on lips bruised from his kisses.

“Good night, Kate.”

Cole turned and left her standing alone in the street, wanting him with a fierceness she’d only just begun to understand.

Three days later Kate stood on the steps of the schoolhouse waiting for the day’s session to end. She heard noises, children’s animated voices then witnessed a rush of students descend the stairs and head toward the gate. Nothing much had changed, yet everything seemed to have. Kate didn’t have time to ponder that thought. She entered the school to find Miss Ashmore straightening out the benches and stools that served as seats for her students. “Good afternoon, Miss Ashmore.”

She looked up, clearly amazed to see Kate standing
at the threshold. “Why, Mary Kathryn, come in. This is certainly a surprise.”

Kate stepped inside and noted that the inside of the schoolhouse didn’t appear to be in any better condition than the outside. “I was hoping you’d have time to speak with me. Are you in a hurry to get on home?”

“No, no. I usually stay a while and plan my next lesson. This is no interruption. Come and have a seat.”

Kate chuckled when she sat down on a small upturned pickle barrel that served as a seat. “I’d forgotten how tiny everything is.”

“Everything is small, including most of my students. The oldest child I have in class is only eleven right now.” Miss Ashmore sat down on the only real chair in the room. She cast Kate a genuine smile and waited.

“I, uh, came here to give you something. Remember the other day when we discussed the condition of the school and that the children don’t have enough readers.”

“Yes, I certainly do remember that conversation,” Miss Ashmore said, nodding patiently.

“Well, I want to help.” Kate handed a small tin box to the teacher. “There’s enough in there to buy some books and maybe as time goes on, I can help with repairs, too.”

Miss Ashmore opened the box. “I don’t understand?”

“It’s to buy books the children need,” Kate repeated.

“Where did you get this money?”

“It’s a percentage of profits from the saloon. We’re doing steady business now, I’m happy to say. I don’t need much for myself right now and, well, I want the money to do some good.”

Miss Ashmore shook her head and handed her back the box. “It’s a generous offer, Mary Kathryn, but I can’t accept this.”

Kate looked her dead in the eyes. “Because it’s saloon money?”

“You know I’ve been opposed to that saloon.”

“But it’s a legitimate business now. You wouldn’t refuse money from Mr. Becker or anyone else who offered.”

“Mary Kathryn, this is gambling and drinking money.”

“No, it’s profit from an establishment in Crystal Creek. Take it and let some good come of the money. Please, Miss Ashmore, the children will benefit and that’s what’s really important.” Kate pushed the box full of money back into her hands. “Readers, chalkboards, new chairs and desks. Spend it any way you see fit.”

Miss Ashmore stared at the box in her hand, tears misting in her eyes. “This is so generous.”

“It’s not all that much. I hope to do more.”

“Thank you.”

Kate beamed with joy. “Then you’ll use the money?”

“Yes, dear, I will. The children deserve it. I don’t know what to say. No one’s come forth like this before.”

Kate stood and smiled. “I hope to change that.”

Miss Ashmore rose from her seat and took Kate’s hand. “I’ll be sure to let the children know that a former student donated money so that they may learn. I’ll be sure to let them know it was you, Kate.”

“Kate?” Puzzled, Kate stared at Miss Ashmore. She’d never once called her by her preferred name.

“Yes,
Kate.
” Miss Ashmore laughed heartily. “I don’t know why I insisted on calling you by your given name. From now on, I’ll call you Kate. And you may call me—”

“Miss Ashmore,” Kate answered all too quickly. She couldn’t fathom using her teacher’s first name. “That’s who you are to me. Miss Ashmore, my schoolteacher.”

“Yes, your schoolteacher and your…friend.”

Cole stood just inside the church entrance, leaning leisurely against the door, watching the five men who made up the town council discuss the upcoming Founder’s Day celebration. Edward Wesley, the more vocal of members planned most of the activities, advising that Patricia be put in charge of securing the entertainment.

Cole had forgotten about Founder’s Day. He supposed
Patricia would expect an invitation from him. Cole winced, recalling the last time he’d spoken with her, a few days ago when they’d accidentally met up just outside the diner. She’d been overly sweet, hinting about the celebration, and Cole knew he’d have to come to terms with her sometime soon. He felt his life was stalled at a fork in the road, knowing which way he ought to head yet wanting so badly to go in the other direction.

Mr. Becker cleared his throat, calling Cole’s attention to him. “I, uh, have here a note sent to us by Miss Ashmore.” All heads shot up and he began reading.

“Well, don’t that beat all,” Mr. Teasdale, the town barber called out.

Cole noted Mr. Becker nodding in agreement. “I’ve had some dealings with the woman myself. She seems to be fair and honest.”

Edward Wesley stood up, decidedly irritated. “It’s a ploy, men. Don’t you see? A little goodwill and she’s got all of you under her thumb.”

“Ploy or not,” Mr. Becker announced, “it’s about time someone did something about the state of our school. Mrs. Johannson came into the store the other day, complaining that her little Ingrid had sores on her…uh, well, she came in for a salve. The stools those children sit on are all splintered and broken down.”

“I heard Miss Ashmore say that Miss Malone gave her a portion of the saloon’s profits to buy new readers for the children.” Mr. Teasdale and the others muttered in hushed tones after that, and Cole couldn’t hear much else that was said.

Dumbfounded by Kate’s generosity to a town that had rebuffed her time and again, Cole felt his admiration for her grow. Kate never ceased to surprise him. She was a woman who’d definitely keep a man on the tips of his boots.

Kate planted her bottom down on one of her cane-backed chairs and took in a deep breath of air. She’d just finished cleaning up the bar from last night and washing down the floor. The Silver Saddle sparkled with a freshly polished glow.

When the iron door opened then closed, Kate spun her head around. The Silver Saddle didn’t open for business for two more hours. She stood immediately when she realized who had entered her establishment. “What are you doing here?”