Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02] (10 page)

David ground his teeth in an attempt to control his temper. He took a sip of strong coffee before facing her. “I’m not taking advantage of anyone,” he said softly, slowly.

“Oh, really?” Tessa’s blue eyes flashed fire, and a loose lock of bright red hair escaped the confining knot on the top of her head to fall across her forehead. She swiped at it in irritation. “I’ve never known a landlord who didn’t.”

“Tessa.” Coalie jerked at the sleeve of her dress.

“Not now.” Tessa tried to shrug him off.

“But, Tessa,” Coalie insisted, “he’s paying me.” He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. He showed it to Tessa.

“He’s paying you?” Tessa asked, gaping at the silver dollar in Coalie’s palm.

“He is,” David answered. “The princely sum of a dollar a day.”

Tessa couldn’t believe her ears. A dollar? That was an enormous salary for anyone. Especially a nine-year-old boy. She looked to Coalie for confirmation.

Coalie nodded, smiling proudly.

“Just for carrying coal and heating water?” Tessa had to ask. She knew grown men who didn’t earn a dollar a day.

“He does all sorts of things,” David told her. “He’s my handyman.”

“Is this true?” Tessa turned to Coalie.

“Yep,” Coalie proudly answered.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Tessa blushed hotly, angry at herself for jumping to conclusions and angry with David Alexander for allowing her to.

“I didn’t think it was necessary.” David met Tessa’s gaze. “Coalie and I have a business arrangement. He agreed to work hard, and I agreed to pay him a fair salary. In cash. At the end of each week.”

“But that’s a lot of money,” Tessa protested.

“I can afford it.”

She turned to Coalie. “See that the man gets his money’s worth,” Tessa admonished gently. “I’ll not have it said we didn’t pay our way.”

“Aw, Tessa, I know that.” Coalie’s ears pinkened around the edges.

David stood up, stepped around Tessa, walked over to Coalie, and ruffled his hair. “I’ve got no complaints.” He looked from Coalie back to Tessa, then down at his feet. “My boots have never been shinier.”

Coalie beamed.

“Now,” David continued, “why don’t you wash up before we go to the mercantile?”

Coalie raced toward the pump at the back of the room.

David interrupted him. “There’s a basin and clean linen in my room.”

Coalie changed direction in mid-stride, then turned toward the short hallway and David’s room.

“And, Coalie…”

“Yes, sir?” Coalie halted to listen.

David walked to the stove and removed the kettle. “Use plenty of soap and warm water.” David closed the distance between them in three steps and handed Coalie the kettle.

Nodding an affirmative, Coalie grabbed the kettle and hurried to do David’s bidding.

Returning to his desk, David picked up his mug and crossed back to the stove to pour himself another cup of coffee. “What’s the matter, Miss Roarke? Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“What’s that?” She stared up at him, not quite sure she’d heard him correctly.

David ignored her question, intent on asking more of his own. “Or just unaccustomed to waking up alone? Is that what has you spoiling for a fight this morning?”

“I didn’t sleep alone. Your mangy cat slept with me.” She smiled sweetly. “Probably sick of your company.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. And I don’t blame him. It’s just that…”

“What?” David asked.

“In general, I don’t care for cats,” Tessa replied. “And in particular, I don’t care for this one’s owner.” She dared him to contradict her.

“That’s too bad. Because for the moment you’re stuck with both of us. If you don’t like Horace, keep him out of your room, but don’t vent your spleen on the boy.”

“I never—” Tessa began.

“It upsets him. He cares a great deal about you.” The tone of David’s voice implied that he found that difficult to understand. “If you want to discuss something with me, do it when Coalie isn’t around. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” she said. “As long as you do the same.”

“Fine.” Satisfied with the results of his little lecture, David dismissed the topic. “Now take this.” He handed her a pencil and a blank sheet of paper.

Tessa took the pencil and paper.

“And make out a list of things you want from the store. Coalie and I will pick them up when I finish my business at the jail.”

“You’re going to the jail?”

“I need to talk to the sheriff.” David took a sip of his coffee. “Sit down.” He waved her toward his desk. “And make out your list. Coalie’ll be finished any minute.”

Tessa sank down in the chair. She carefully placed the paper in the center of the blotter and awkwardly took the pencil in her left hand. She wrote out her list and handed it to David.

David glanced at the scribbles on the piece of paper. “What the devil is this?”

“My list.”

“In what language?”

“The Irish,” Tessa told him, bluffing.

“I don’t think there’s anyone at the mercantile who can read this.” David smiled, a dimple showing in one cheek, as he saw through her bluff. “You’ll have to do it again.” He handed her a clean sheet of paper.

Tessa hesitated.

“Go on,” David urged, when she continued to stare at him. “Put down everything you want—clothes, soap, tea, whatever.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, and a dimple at the corner of his mouth transformed his serious expression into a roguish smile. “I have an account at the mercantile. I can afford it.”

“I don’t know how to spell English!” The words seemed to burst from her lips. She stared down at the white paper, the pencil clasped awkwardly in her hand, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. A red flush crept up her cheeks and her eyes sparkled with tears of frustration. “I don’t know how to spell anything.”

As David watched, two droplets rolled down her face to fall on the blank piece of stationery. She brushed them away with an angry wave of her hand.

“What?”

Tessa raised her head. “I can make out some words here and there, but all I can truly read and write is my name.”

The belligerent look on her face cut into David’s heart. “Show me.”

Gripping the pencil tightly and holding the paper steady with her right hand, Tessa bent her head and laboriously printed her name. Finished, she handed the paper to David. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

David set his coffee mug aside and studied the paper. The letters were big, childishly formed, and unevenly spaced, but they were recognizable. “Tessa,” he said quietly. “Very good.”

Tessa let the pencil drop from her hand and released the breath she was holding with a sigh of relief. She’d done it. She’d remembered.

“Can you write anything else?” David asked. “Your surname?”

“No,” Tessa admitted in a tiny voice. “My brother was teaching me.”

He frowned at the thought that crossed his mind. “Does anyone else know you can’t read and write?”

“Just my brother, Eamon,” she told him. “But he’s dead. He died right before I left Chicago.”

“I’m sorry.” David responded to the sadness in her voice. He hadn’t known she had a brother or that she’d come to Wyoming from Chicago. But then, he knew next to nothing about Tessa Roarke. That was something David intended to change. The thought of all the pain and the secrets she kept hidden bothered him more than he liked to admit. “What about Coalie?”

“He thinks I’m so grand,” Tessa said. “Do you think I’d be proud to tell him I couldn’t read nor write anything except my name?”

“No,” David told her. “But you can learn.”

“How?” She was almost afraid to ask the question, afraid he wouldn’t have an answer or that he’d tell her she was too old to master the skills of reading and writing.

“I can teach you.”

“Now?” Tessa straightened her back and picked up the pencil once again.

David was touched by her eagerness. “Not this minute.”

Disappointment clouded her fine features.

“I can’t this morning, but I’ll agree to give you lessons if you tell me everything about Arnie Mason.”

Tessa dropped the pencil as if it burned her fingers, sucked in a ragged breath, and stared at David in something akin to horror.

“That’s not fair,” she accused.

“Life often isn’t. And believe me, Tessa, before this is over that’s what I’ll be fighting for. Your life.” David’s dark eyes reflected the seriousness of his task. “I know you have secrets and I know you’d like to keep them, but I don’t think you realize how serious this all is. I need to know what I’m up against, and I’ll use every weapon in my power to get what I need. How badly do you want to learn to read and write?”

“Real bad,” Tessa admitted. But not enough to risk Coalie’s security, she thought.

David watched the play of emotions on her face, knew she was weighing her options, and knew he’d lost when she didn’t pick up the pencil. “Think about it,” he suggested.

“I’m ready,” Coalie announced as he ran to stand in front of David. He held up his hands and waited patiently for inspection. “I washed my hands and face, even my neck and ears. With soap. Can we go now?”

David took the boy’s hands in his own and studied them, looking for signs of dirt. He gave a nod of approval as he let them go. Then, lifting Coalie’s chin with the tip of his finger, he inspected the boy’s face and the area behind his ears. “You did a fine job, but I’m afraid our plans have changed a bit.” David paused to check his pocket watch. “I have to get to the jail before nine, so I need you to escort Tessa to the mercantile to get what she needs.”

Tessa glanced up at him, surprised. “I’m allowed to go to the mercantile?”

“You can go anywhere in town as long as you’re with Coalie or me,” David cautioned, “except the depot and the stage office. And the Satin Slipper.” He gazed at Tessa, then at Coalie. “I’m trusting you, so I expect you to give me your word of honor. Okay?”

“Okay.” Coalie stuck out his hand.

David took his hand and gripped it in a firm handshake. “Tessa? Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Tessa extended her hand as Coalie had done.

David studied her hand. It was delicate, with long, slender fingers. Her nails were ragged and bitten down to the quick, but clean. He took her hand. Her palms were rough, and callused. Hardworking hands. He intended to shake her hand and seal their bargain, but he surprised himself and Tessa by raising her hand to his mouth.

Tessa shivered at the rush of warmth flooding her body when David gently pressed his lips against her hand.

A shock of awareness jolted her. She gazed up at him. The flicker of deep emotion in his dark eyes pleased her. She held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity, reluctant to let it go.

Coalie tugged on Tessa’s hand, breaking the spell. He gently pulled her toward the front door, then took his hat down from the lowest peg and jammed it on his head. “Hurry, Tessa.” The expression in his shining green eyes clearly showed his excitement.

David followed Coalie to the door and removed his heavy sheepskin coat from the peg above Coalie’s. “Take this,” he said as he placed the garment around Tessa’s shoulders for the second time in two days, and handed her her bonnet. “I’d hate for you to catch cold.” His dark eyes sparkled as he smiled down at her.

She was instantly engulfed in leather and sheepskin.

The remembered scent catapulted her back to the jail. Suddenly the prospect of a trip to the general store with money to spend imbued Tessa with optimism.

“Tell Miss Taylor to put your purchases on my account. I’ll meet you in front of the mercantile in an hour or so.”

“What if she doesn’t believe me?” The terrible thought made her voice higher than normal, and she had to tie the ribbon beneath her chin twice before she got it right.

David took out his wallet, removed several bills, and handed them to Tessa.

Tessa shook her head, refusing the money.

“Take it. If she doesn’t believe you, pay in cash.” He paused, giving Tessa the chance to reconsider.

She took the money and tucked the crisp bills into the pocket of his coat.

“Don’t forget to meet me outside the store in an hour or so,” David reminded her as they parted ways on the sidewalk.

On Saturdays the general store did a brisk business, and this Saturday morning was no different. Customers milled about, searching for foodstuffs, supplies, fabrics, notions, and the hundred other items crammed on the tables and shelves. The ladies’ corner at Jeffers’s Mercantile was particularly popular. The latest shipment of goods from Cheyenne included exotic teas, bath salts, milled soaps, and perfume from faraway London and Paris. The women of Peaceable and the wives and daughters of the surrounding farms and ranches congregated there to ooh and aah and spend their precious savings on the expensive luxuries. Because it was the first shipment in nearly three months, Mrs. Jeffers had covered a table with her finest linen and set out an assortment of tea and cakes to entice the ladies to sample and buy.

Two grizzled old men, Jeffers’s Mercantile regulars, sat huddled over a game of checkers at a table near the Franklin stove, grumbling over the ruckus while they helped themselves to the cakes and cookies.

The brass bell over the front door jangled merrily as Tessa and Coalie entered the building. Tessa’s eyes widened with surprise at the sight of the enormous amount of merchandise and the variety of goods. She hadn’t expected to find a store like this in a small town like Peaceable. Drawn by the warmth, the smell of baked goods, and the low buzz of feminine voices, Tessa took a hesitant step forward.

Coalie, eager to begin the shopping expedition, bumped her from behind.

Tessa took a moment to tuck a stray lock of bright red hair back under her bonnet and to smooth a tiny wrinkle from her green calico skirt. She wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and moved toward the front counter.

“May I help you?” A slightly plump middle-aged woman with a friendly smile and beautiful thick gray hair looked up at Tessa.

“I’ve come for…” Tessa cleared her throat, then spoke with more authority. “That is, I need to pick up some supplies.”