and why he had been so openly hostile.
Ackerman led her to a table by the window, which suited her because her back was to the kitchen and the stranger’s assessing gaze.
“Have you eaten here?” Ackerman smiled, one that did not reach his eyes.
“Not really. Although the cornbread is delicious.” A memory of being with Zeke in the sweet shadows of the night, the taste and smell of all that was him, washed over her. A shudder ripped through her, leaving goose bumps and achingly hard nipples in its wake.
Ackerman didn’t even try to hide his interest. In fact, his gaze snapped straight to her breasts, lust evident on his pale face. Naomi was used to men disrespecting her, and this just confirmed her opinion the man was not worth her time.
Too bad she’d invited him for breakfast.
“What will you have?” A woman appeared beside the table. Her light brown hair was back in a bun and she watched them warily. If Naomi had to hazard a guess, this was Margaret, the cook who’d been recently hired. She had ghosts behind her dark eyes, ones that called out to Naomi’s own, creating an instant bond between them. A slight nod of the other woman’s head was the only acknowledgement of what Naomi felt.
“What do you have for breakfast in this establishment, madam?” Ackerman must not realize he sounded like a pompous fool.
“Eggs, bacon, biscuits, grits and coffee.” Margaret was definitely not one to be wordy.
“Eggs and a biscuit, please.” Naomi pointed to the thick white mug on the table. “And coffee too if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Ah, yes, I’ll have the same, but with bacon. I don’t suppose you have butter for the biscuits, do you?” He brought out a handkerchief and wiped at the wood table, brushing imaginary dirt and crumbs to the floor.
Naomi didn’t know how to react to such behavior, but Margaret did. She whipped a towel out from her apron and slapped it on the table hard, twice. Ackerman jumped a few inches off his chair while Naomi had trouble keeping a chuckle contained.
“There you go. Clean as a whistle.” Margaret tucked the towel away. “I’ll go get the coffee and butter.”
“She certainly needs better manners.” Ackerman tugged at his vest as he settled back into the chair. “I expect it’s going to take time to get used to Tanger and its residents.”
Naomi nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. Tanger is a mixture of all kinds of folks and we’ve all got something, er, different about us.” She wanted to point out he was already fitting in nicely, what with his weird habits and all.
“I can see that.” Ackerman met her gaze. “You, for example. Working at the saloon must be challenging for a beautiful woman such as yourself. You must be a busy girl.”
What he didn’t say was what Naomi heard. He thought her beauty led her right up the stairs to the bedroom, where she likely earned money on her back. She held onto her temper by a thread although it was a mighty thin thread.
“I work hard serving drinks and cleaning up. Lucy doesn’t expect anything else and I don’t provide it.” Her hands fisted in her lap.
“That’s good, very good. I’m glad to hear you are proud of your work. Women who enter the working world of men must always work hard to make up for their lack of strength and abilities.”
It was a good thing Margaret arrived with the coffeepot and a crock of butter because Naomi was ready to crack one of the mugs over Ackerman’s head. She’d spent her life fighting the prejudices against women, which had been heaped on her head by arrogant men.
“Ah, good, thank you, my good woman.” Ackerman pointed to his empty mug, proving once again he had no idea how to treat people.
After Margaret filled his mug, she offered a ghost of a grin to Naomi before filling hers. She decided to come back without the hotel man to get to know the older woman. A true friend would be welcome in Naomi’s lonely world.
By the time their eggs arrived, Ackerman
Ackerman led her to a table by the window, which suited her because her back was to the kitchen and the stranger’s assessing gaze.
“Have you eaten here?” Ackerman smiled, one that did not reach his eyes.
“Not really. Although the cornbread is delicious.” A memory of being with Zeke in the sweet shadows of the night, the taste and smell of all that was him, washed over her. A shudder ripped through her, leaving goose bumps and achingly hard nipples in its wake.
Ackerman didn’t even try to hide his interest. In fact, his gaze snapped straight to her breasts, lust evident on his pale face. Naomi was used to men disrespecting her, and this just confirmed her opinion the man was not worth her time.
Too bad she’d invited him for breakfast.
“What will you have?” A woman appeared beside the table. Her light brown hair was back in a bun and she watched them warily. If Naomi had to hazard a guess, this was Margaret, the cook who’d been recently hired. She had ghosts behind her dark eyes, ones that called out to Naomi’s own, creating an instant bond between them. A slight nod of the other woman’s head was the only acknowledgement of what Naomi felt.
“What do you have for breakfast in this establishment, madam?” Ackerman must not realize he sounded like a pompous fool.
“Eggs, bacon, biscuits, grits and coffee.” Margaret was definitely not one to be wordy.
“Eggs and a biscuit, please.” Naomi pointed to the thick white mug on the table. “And coffee too if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Ah, yes, I’ll have the same, but with bacon. I don’t suppose you have butter for the biscuits, do you?” He brought out a handkerchief and wiped at the wood table, brushing imaginary dirt and crumbs to the floor.
Naomi didn’t know how to react to such behavior, but Margaret did. She whipped a towel out from her apron and slapped it on the table hard, twice. Ackerman jumped a few inches off his chair while Naomi had trouble keeping a chuckle contained.
“There you go. Clean as a whistle.” Margaret tucked the towel away. “I’ll go get the coffee and butter.”
“She certainly needs better manners.” Ackerman tugged at his vest as he settled back into the chair. “I expect it’s going to take time to get used to Tanger and its residents.”
Naomi nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. Tanger is a mixture of all kinds of folks and we’ve all got something, er, different about us.” She wanted to point out he was already fitting in nicely, what with his weird habits and all.
“I can see that.” Ackerman met her gaze. “You, for example. Working at the saloon must be challenging for a beautiful woman such as yourself. You must be a busy girl.”
What he didn’t say was what Naomi heard. He thought her beauty led her right up the stairs to the bedroom, where she likely earned money on her back. She held onto her temper by a thread although it was a mighty thin thread.
“I work hard serving drinks and cleaning up. Lucy doesn’t expect anything else and I don’t provide it.” Her hands fisted in her lap.
“That’s good, very good. I’m glad to hear you are proud of your work. Women who enter the working world of men must always work hard to make up for their lack of strength and abilities.”
It was a good thing Margaret arrived with the coffeepot and a crock of butter because Naomi was ready to crack one of the mugs over Ackerman’s head. She’d spent her life fighting the prejudices against women, which had been heaped on her head by arrogant men.
“Ah, good, thank you, my good woman.” Ackerman pointed to his empty mug, proving once again he had no idea how to treat people.
After Margaret filled his mug, she offered a ghost of a grin to Naomi before filling hers. She decided to come back without the hotel man to get to know the older woman. A true friend would be welcome in Naomi’s lonely world.
By the time their eggs arrived, Ackerman
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