Margaret Brownley - [Rocky Creek 02] (14 page)

Brenda clapped her hands. “It’s wonderful but . . . it’s the middle of the night.”

Barrel pulled his watch from his vest pocket. “It’s three fifteen,” he said. “But not to worry. Before waking you, I dropped off my laundry and Lee Wong assured me that it’s supper time in Hong Kong.”

Brenda laughed. What a perfectly fun and intriguing man.

He pulled out a chair and made a production of whisking it clean with a linen napkin. He then gestured with his arm for her to sit. “Madam.”

Taking her seat, she folded her hands on her lap and waited. He sat on the chair opposite her and said grace. “Our dear heavenly Father, bless this food and the company.” He then sang “Amen.” His fine tenor voice rose to a crescendo. He sustained the last note so long he left Brenda gasping for air.

She clapped in appreciation. “How do you do that?”

“The secret is in the breathing,” he said. He picked up the tongs and poked around at the chicken. “What part would you like?”

“I’ll take a limb,” she replied, using the polite term for
leg
.

He laughed. “A
limb
it shall be.” Ignoring her protests, he proceeded to fill her plate. Next he filled her glass with freshly squeezed lemonade.

While they ate, he told her the stories of the operas he had once dreamed of singing onstage. At times, he burst into song, his rich vibrant voice reaching inside her like the warming rays of the sun.

“They all seem so sad,” she said, after he had described the stories of several operas. “Someone always dies at the end.”

“Comedies were once considered strictly for the lower class,” he explained. “A composer wishing to be taken seriously had no choice but to write tragedies. More pie?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I can eat another bite.” She glanced outside. The silver light of dawn greeted her. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Oh, no!” She quickly jumped to her feet. “Please tell me that’s not the sun!”

He stood and peered out the window. “So it is,” he said. “So it is.”

“My sister will kill me.”

“Ah,” he said lightly. “The perfect scenario for an opera.”

Despite her dismay at losing track of time, she couldn’t help but laugh as they walked outside. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too.” He tilted his head. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another bite for the rest of the day.” She laughed.

Her laughter turned into a strangled cry the moment she spotted Jenny charging toward them like a rampaging bull.

“There you are,” Jenny stormed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She scolded Brenda but glared at Barrel.

“I . . . Mr. Barrel—” Brenda began. “We were in the barbershop.”

Jenny’s gaze bored into her. “How was I supposed to know that?” She gasped. “And please tell me you’re not wearing your nightgown.”

Brenda pulled her cloak tighter. She’d forgotten she wasn’t properly dressed. Though it was still early and no one else was around, she flushed.

Barrel stepped between them. “I didn’t mean any harm, ma’am. Your sister and I, we were just—”

Jenny’s face hardened. “How dare you ruin my sister’s reputation.”

“Oh, no, ma’am. I would never do anything like that.”

“If you ever come near her again, I’ll have you arrested for immoral behavior.”

With that, Jenny grabbed Brenda by the hand and dragged her all the way back to the hotel.

Eleven

Flirting is permitted, but only after mutual interest is confirmed.

— M
ISS
A
BIGAIL
J
ENKINS
, 1875

R
hett was late arriving at the office that morning. Earlier, he rode out to the county sheriff’s office to discuss the Maxwell boys. Though the American Humane Society had been founded for the prevention of cruelty to children and animals four years earlier in 1877, some Texas courts hesitated taking the young away from their natural parents.

Abe Slacker was the new county sheriff who had little rapport and even less influence with local and state officials. Rhett didn’t have much hope of either the county or state doing what needed to be done.

It had been a frustrating morning. Adding to his bad mood, he still hadn’t found Scooter. No one, not even his father, had seen the boy since he stole meat and cheese from Fairbanks General Merchandise.

No sooner had he finished checking his few prisoners than the owner of Jake’s Saloon burst into his office. Jake’s presence surprised him. Seldom did he see the man when he wasn’t behind the bar pouring drinks. Nor had he seen the man look so upset. His heavy frame and drooping mustache quivered, and his already squinty eyes kept getting smaller.

“You gotta do somethin’ about that woman. I’m telling you, she came barrelin’ into my place like nobody’s business.”

Rhett sighed. He didn’t have to ask the woman’s name. “Why would she do that?” As far as he knew, Jenny didn’t imbibe.

“Accused me of hiding her sister, that’s what. I’m warnin’ you, if you don’t do somethin’ about them Hussy—”

“Higgins.”

“—sisters, we’re gonna have to take the law into our own hands.”

That was the last thing Rhett intended to let happen. “The only thing you’re gonna do is calm down so we can get to the bottom of this. Why did Jen . . . eh . . . Miss Higgins think you were hiding her sister?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“All right, let me look into it and see what I can find out.”

Jake didn’t look happy, but he agreed not to do anything until Rhett had a chance to investigate.

No sooner had Jake left than Mrs. Hitchcock took his place. Her garish dress, feathered hat, and high-pitched voice were an assault to the eyes and ears at any time but never so much as they were that morning.

“As a member of the Rocky Creek Quilting Bee, Quilting Bee, it is my duty to inform you that our members are feeling threatened by the Hussy sisters—”

“Higgins,” he said. “Their name is Higgins.”

He had no idea why the quilting bee members were up in arms over Jenny, but he listened respectfully. When he got a chance to get a word in edgewise, he stuck his pen in its holder and sat back to ask, “Threatened, how?”

“The way those women, those women, are carrying on.” She stuck up her nose and sniffed. “The available decent women in this town don’t have a chance against those . . . those hussies!” She shook so hard that her hat slid down her forehead like a colorful bird swooping from its perch. She readjusted her hat before continuing. “Mrs. Fields’s daughter hasn’t had a gentleman caller, gentleman caller, since those women traipsed into town.”

Cutting her off before she had a chance to repeat herself yet again, he offered assurance. “The fine women in your group have nothing to worry about. Once the novelty wears off, things will go back to normal.” At least he hoped so.

“It better,” she said.

No sooner had she left than Kip Barrel charged through the door. In one eternally long sentence that only a trained voice could manage on a single breath, he described his middle-of-the-night supper.

Rhett stared at him. Never would he have imagined Kip capable of such outrageous behavior. In one single day, the man had gone from winning a little boy’s heart to ruining a young woman’s reputation.

“I’m afraid I have to take Jenny’s side on this one,” Rhett said.

Kip’s face crumbled in dismay. “I was a perfect gentleman,” he protested. “We talked about opera.”

“But enticing a woman out of bed in the middle of the night?”

Kip raised his hand as if taking an oath. “As God is my witness, nothing improper happened.”

“I believe you. But if you wish to court Brenda, it would be to your advantage to go through Jenny . . . eh . . . Miss Higgins, like everyone else.”

Kip’s mouth dipped. “What chance does someone like me have? I used all my savings to start my business. Do you know how much barber chairs cost? And I have two.”

Rhett sympathized. Kip Barrel was a moral and honest man. A woman couldn’t go wrong with a husband like him. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Kip looked dubious. “It’s going to take a lot more than a good word to calm down Jenny Higgins. You should have heard her. My ears are still ringing.” He lifted his arms and fluttered his fingers. “High Cs and Fs all the way. Trust me, Donna Anna has nothing on Brenda’s sister.”

“Donna Anna?”

“The jilted woman in
Don Giovanni
.”

Rhett knew nothing about opera, but he could well imagine Jenny’s outrage. Where her sisters were concerned, she was like a mother bear. “You’re a good man, Kip. A good Christian. You’d make a fine husband.” Rhett tried his best to sound encouraging.

Kip shook his head. “Brenda’s sister isn’t looking for a good man. She wants a rich man. You’ll be wasting your breath.”

Rhett felt Kip’s frustration. It seemed as if all Jenny cared about was money. What a pity that such a pretty mouth . . . eh, face . . . was wasted on such a stubborn, mercenary woman. “I’ll do the best I can,” he said, but he didn’t have much hope of changing Jenny’s mind.

Kip gave a frustrated sigh. Without another word, he shuffled out of the office, shoulders down, head bent low.

The next one to burst into his office was Hank Applegate, stomping around like a man with itching powder in his boots.

“Now what?” Rhett asked.

Hank could hardly get the words out fast enough. “That colonel woman was seen walkin’ in and out of Jake’s saloon at the crack of dawn like nobody’s business.”

“I heard. Jake was here already, complaining.”

“He had every right to complain. It’s gittin’ so a man can’t drown his sorrows without a woman’s interference.”

Rhett shook his head. He didn’t have much patience for anyone seeking comfort from a bottle. “She was looking for her sister.”

Hank made a face. “She was lookin’ for trouble. That’s what she was lookin’ for.”

Rhett’s jaw tightened with annoyance. “So what do you want me to do about it, Hank?”

“You ain’t gotta do nothin’. I’ve got everythin’ under control.” Hank held up a hand-lettered sign. Most of the words were misspelled, but Rhett was able to figure out what it was meant to say: K
EEP OUT BY ORDER OF
T
HE
S
OCIETY FOR THE
P
ROTECTION AND
P
RESERVATION OF
M
ALE
I
NDEPENDENCE.

Rhett frowned. “You’re kidding, right? A society?” That seemed like a highfalutin word for the likes of Hank. “Male independence?”

Hank stuck out his chest. “Me and the boys decided to band togeth’r and fight the colonel.”

Rhett grimaced. It sounded like war.

Hank’s mouth twisted upward. He stabbed at his sign. “What this here means, Marshal, is that Colonel Jenny is forbidden to step foot in any male establishment. From now on, a man will be able to get himself a shave or liquid refreshm’nt in peace and without feminine interfer’nce. Furthermore, she’s not to approach men in the streets, nor is she to glare, glower, or otherwise stare at a man without his perm’ssion.” He emphasized his words with a nod of the head.

Rhett tapped his fingers together. “I don’t know, Hank. This doesn’t sound right. It
is
a free country.”

“And I aim to make sure it stays that way. If a man ain’t wantin’ to get married, that’s his perog’tive.”

Rhett rubbed his chin. He had a bad feeling about this, but once Hank made up his mind, there was no changing it.

“I don’t see why you’re so against marriage, Hank.”

Hank wiped his nose on his sleeve. “It ain’t natural, that’s why. Money’s not the root of all evil. Marriage is. And I’ll tell you another thin’—”

Determined to stop him before he got
both
feet on his soapbox, Rhett waved his hand through the air. “I don’t want any trouble.”

No one ever told him when he went into law enforcement that his biggest challenge would be mediating the battle of the sexes.

“That’s what I’m aimin’ to avoid,” Hank said. “If you’re interested in joinin’ our group, our first meeting is tonight at Jake’s.”

“Thanks for the invitation, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself, Marshal.”

Hank wasn’t gone but five minutes when Jenny burst into his office like a Texas tornado. She slammed the door shut with such force, the windows shook and his hat fell off its nail. Whirling about in a swish of skirt and petticoats, she glared at him, hands on her waist.

“What kind of town is this? My sister was abducted in the middle of the night, and I want the perpetrator arrested at once.”

He should have known she would blow things out of proportion. “It’s not abduction if the person goes willingly.”

Judging by the stunned look on her face, she didn’t want to hear that her sister was equally responsible. “He . . . he had no right.”

“That may be, but unless Kip Barrel took your sister at gunpoint or in some way overwhelmed her, my hands are tied.”

She straightened but her eyes showed no less fire. “What about the signs posted all over town forbidding women to enter certain establishments?”

He had no idea Hank had already hung his signs. He sure didn’t waste any time. “The men of this town value their privacy.”

“And I value mine.” She tossed her head. “I demand that you protect my sisters and me from these . . . these barbarians!”

Rhett clenched his hands. Now she’d gone too far. Last night she’d looked all soft and concerned about Scooter. Today, she was her usual stern and unrelenting self. Her softness was his undoing. He was far better able to handle this more formal side of her.

“First of all, Kip Barrel is not a barbarian. He is a decent, law-abiding, churchgoing citizen. If that doesn’t make him worthy of your sister’s attention, then you’ve got a lot to learn about men.”

She looked momentarily disconcerted but quickly regained her composure. “Your idea of decent leaves a lot to be desired.”

He rose slowly and leaned forward. Their noses practically met. He could smell her lavender perfume, smell the sunshine in her hair. It was all he could do to block out the memory of their kiss.