grabbing a sandwich in the kitchen.”
Jenny huffed past him, like a queen bee about to sting her drones. She stopped when she got to the saloon doors. She stood there on tiptoe, peering over the doors, then glaring over her shoulder at Luke, silently ordering him to accompany her.
Travis tapped him on the shoulder. “Better watch out,” he warned. “Olivia’s madder than hell. I’m glad you’re taking her off my hands.”
Luke gulped and tried to steady his nerves. Adjusting his hat, he headed toward Jenny.
Loud voices bellowed from the opening. With a sudden clatter and hollering of obscenities, two men burst through the doors. In a panic, Luke dove for Jenny, but the men’s bodies still managed to collide with hers. They accidentally pushed her into the street.
Helpless, Luke watched as, with a horrified shriek, Jenny landed in the dirt on her rump.
Chapter Six
H e was going to pay for this one, Luke thought, gazing at the heap of upturned petticoats and finely trimmed, blue cloth boots.
Speechless but apparently unhurt, Jenny rolled upright. With cheeks as red as cherries, she opened her mouth, then clamped it tight. Luke grasped her by her arm and dragged her out of the way before she got tangled up with more bodies.
Beuford hauled one of the men to his feet, and Travis grabbed the other, giving the bigger one a kick in the pants before sending him down the street. “Get outta here!”
“Give us back our guns.”
“You know the rules. Come back tomorrow, when you’re sober.”
Jenny’s mouth puckered as if she’d downed a shot of tequila. “What kind of a place is this?”
“It’s not Boston,” Luke said brightly, hoping to lighten her mood.
“It certainly isn’t.” She glanced at the wanted posters nailed to the wall and sniffed with displeasure.
He bit back a reply. Did she have to be so uppity? Did everything from her world have to smell like fresh-baked pumpkin pie and everything from his like week-old manure?
Well, she needed to relax. He’d get a smile from her tonight if he had to wring it out of her.
She peered over the doors again. “Is it…is it safe to go in?”
He stiffened at the insult. Didn’t she know he could protect her from any man? From any fight? From anything? Besides, he owned this place!
“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” he said, shoving the doors wide and stepping inside, “you’re with me. ”
They entered the saloon. With Jenny standing two feet away, Luke pulled in a deep breath of air and crossed his arms. Familiar, comforting scents wrapped around him—a combination of cigar smoke, spilled booze and tanned leather. He breathed better just being here. The tinkling piano keys in the background and the rowdy murmurs and shouts made his blood pump.
How could Jenny dislike this place?
Suspended from the ceiling rafters on eight massive wagon wheels, kerosene lamps flickered high above the tables and cast a rich glow on the boisterous crowd below. An archway separated two rooms—one room for the drinking tables and bar, one for the dining tables, gambling tables and the stage.
Lamplight danced off the polished oak bar close to where Luke and Jenny stood. Five bartenders worked behind it, filling shot glasses and beer steins as fast as their hands would allow. The mirrored panels behind them reflected their smooth, easy movements and seemed to double the saloon’s energetic atmosphere.
Some of the regulars spotted Luke and waved. He raised his black felt hat in friendly greeting and scanned the crowd. About a hundred men were here tonight. Apart from the barmaids waiting for their drinks to be poured, and the dancing girls preparing behind the stage curtain, just a handful of women occupied the saloon.
No sign of black curls. No Olivia.
“Luke!” said a friendly voice. “Have a drink with us!”
“Later,” he shouted back.
“Then come have one with us!” shouted the dentist.
“Later,” Luke repeated with an impersonal nod, knowing
Jenny huffed past him, like a queen bee about to sting her drones. She stopped when she got to the saloon doors. She stood there on tiptoe, peering over the doors, then glaring over her shoulder at Luke, silently ordering him to accompany her.
Travis tapped him on the shoulder. “Better watch out,” he warned. “Olivia’s madder than hell. I’m glad you’re taking her off my hands.”
Luke gulped and tried to steady his nerves. Adjusting his hat, he headed toward Jenny.
Loud voices bellowed from the opening. With a sudden clatter and hollering of obscenities, two men burst through the doors. In a panic, Luke dove for Jenny, but the men’s bodies still managed to collide with hers. They accidentally pushed her into the street.
Helpless, Luke watched as, with a horrified shriek, Jenny landed in the dirt on her rump.
Chapter Six
H e was going to pay for this one, Luke thought, gazing at the heap of upturned petticoats and finely trimmed, blue cloth boots.
Speechless but apparently unhurt, Jenny rolled upright. With cheeks as red as cherries, she opened her mouth, then clamped it tight. Luke grasped her by her arm and dragged her out of the way before she got tangled up with more bodies.
Beuford hauled one of the men to his feet, and Travis grabbed the other, giving the bigger one a kick in the pants before sending him down the street. “Get outta here!”
“Give us back our guns.”
“You know the rules. Come back tomorrow, when you’re sober.”
Jenny’s mouth puckered as if she’d downed a shot of tequila. “What kind of a place is this?”
“It’s not Boston,” Luke said brightly, hoping to lighten her mood.
“It certainly isn’t.” She glanced at the wanted posters nailed to the wall and sniffed with displeasure.
He bit back a reply. Did she have to be so uppity? Did everything from her world have to smell like fresh-baked pumpkin pie and everything from his like week-old manure?
Well, she needed to relax. He’d get a smile from her tonight if he had to wring it out of her.
She peered over the doors again. “Is it…is it safe to go in?”
He stiffened at the insult. Didn’t she know he could protect her from any man? From any fight? From anything? Besides, he owned this place!
“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” he said, shoving the doors wide and stepping inside, “you’re with me. ”
They entered the saloon. With Jenny standing two feet away, Luke pulled in a deep breath of air and crossed his arms. Familiar, comforting scents wrapped around him—a combination of cigar smoke, spilled booze and tanned leather. He breathed better just being here. The tinkling piano keys in the background and the rowdy murmurs and shouts made his blood pump.
How could Jenny dislike this place?
Suspended from the ceiling rafters on eight massive wagon wheels, kerosene lamps flickered high above the tables and cast a rich glow on the boisterous crowd below. An archway separated two rooms—one room for the drinking tables and bar, one for the dining tables, gambling tables and the stage.
Lamplight danced off the polished oak bar close to where Luke and Jenny stood. Five bartenders worked behind it, filling shot glasses and beer steins as fast as their hands would allow. The mirrored panels behind them reflected their smooth, easy movements and seemed to double the saloon’s energetic atmosphere.
Some of the regulars spotted Luke and waved. He raised his black felt hat in friendly greeting and scanned the crowd. About a hundred men were here tonight. Apart from the barmaids waiting for their drinks to be poured, and the dancing girls preparing behind the stage curtain, just a handful of women occupied the saloon.
No sign of black curls. No Olivia.
“Luke!” said a friendly voice. “Have a drink with us!”
“Later,” he shouted back.
“Then come have one with us!” shouted the dentist.
“Later,” Luke repeated with an impersonal nod, knowing
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