Читать книгу Ace's Wild - Sarah McCarty - Страница 11

CHAPTER FIVE

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS,” Petunia demanded of Ace as she watched Terrance through the window of the restaurant. He was sitting at a table looking like heaven had just been placed before him in the form of a huge steak. Beside him, Luisa hovered. From her frequent hand gestures, Petunia assumed she was encouraging him to eat. Luisa was the quintessential mother, though she had no children of her own. From her come-get-a-hug manner to her soft brown eyes shining from a plump face touched with wrinkles from a lifetime of smiles, she made a body feel welcome. From the relaxed set of his shoulders, Terrance was not exempt from her charm.

“You said take care of it. It’s taken care of,” Ace said with aggravating calm.

“I can’t take care of a child!”

Ace, damn him, just looked at her that way he had that made her feel transparent and vulnerable, like one too many buttons had slipped loose on her blouse.

“You take care of several all day.”

“As a means to an end! You know I’m just saving up for a ticket out of here.”

That got her a smile that made her palm itch to smack it off his face.

“It’d be a shame if everyone else knew that.”

Somewhere in their heads they had to know this, but traditional beliefs held that women loved children, and the townsfolk of Simple were assuming that Petunia had found her place here. That being the case, they seemed happy to pretend she hadn’t ever declared this job was only temporary. She curled her fingers into a fist, suppressing the impulse to smack him. “You know they’ll advertise for someone else if they know for sure I’m leaving.”

“Yes, I do.”

“They’ll fire me if they find someone.”

“Yes.”

He had her over a barrel. She needed a different approach. Playing a long shot, she met his gaze and said softly, “It would hurt me.”

Nothing in his expression changed. “What makes you think I give a shit about that?”

She didn’t, but she was gambling. The only thing she knew about gambling was if she was going to do it, she had to be all in. So she bluffed.

“Because you’re not a cruel man.”

Something flickered across his face. “You don’t know me at all.”

No, she didn’t, beyond the fact that he drove her senses crazy, and she always wanted to touch him or nibble on him or do all kinds of things she couldn’t even put a name to when she was in his company. She knew very little about him except that he had one respectable job, one unrespectable one and lived a dissolute life.

“You’re not going to say anything to them?”

“No, I’m not.”

She didn’t like the way he said that. “Because you’re a good man under all that bluster?”

“Hell, no!”

“Then why not?”

His smile held all the confidence she was faking. “Because you’re not going to make me.”

“I can’t take care of that child.”

“Someone has to.”

She tried again. “What is he going to do when I leave?”

“He needs a place to stay tonight.”

In other words, one step at a time.

“We don’t have the boarding school set up yet. Terrance can’t stay there.”

He shrugged. “That’s not my problem. You told me to handle it. I did.”

“I asked you to give Brian Winter his money back!”

“Giving him his money back wouldn’t have been the end, and I would have to go back there tomorrow doing the same thing. You’ve harped on my lazy nature enough over the past couple months to know doing the same thing over and over isn’t my cup of tea.”

“You don’t even drink tea.”

He smiled that cat-and-mouse smile that made her pulse jump and her palm itch. “Actually, I do...sometimes.”

She could feel the walls closing in and her dream slipping away again.

“It’s almost Christmas,” he added as if she needed another stab to the heart. “You want the boy to live to see it?”

“Now, that’s not fair.”

“You didn’t see what I saw at the Winters’ place.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“The boy is lucky his situation caught your eye.” A grimace and a shake of his head. “And the rest of us need to be shamed it didn’t catch ours.”

She blinked. “Why, Mr. Parker, are you saying there’s a place for a busybody do-gooder in this world?”

There was a pause and a nod and then, “I’m saying you’ve earned yours.”

The quirk of his lips, neither smile nor frown, was irritating in all it didn’t say. Almost as irritating as the way he leaned against the porch rail, arms folded across his chest, as if he owned that space. And the way he looked at her, as if he owned her, too, just made her bristle. She wasn’t just any man’s plaything.

“So what are you going to do, Pet? Are you going to take the boy or am I going to have to add tattletale to my list of sins?”

Pfft. Who, except her, would even notice that sin on his long list?

“I’m thinking.”

“Not much to think about.”

No, there wasn’t. Tattling about her plans to leave wouldn’t hurt Ace’s reputation but for her, his tattling would be catastrophic. She was a month away from having enough money for her ticket. Taking in the boy could very well cost that money and some time—it would be too dangerous to travel come winter—but on the other hand, she’d have longer to save and the end result would be more money in her pocket come spring. But if Ace spread his tale, she’d lose her job. She had no doubt Ace would take care of her and arrange it so she’d still be able to take care of Terrance and anyone else who needed it, but she wouldn’t have an independent income. She wouldn’t make it to California.

Which meant a slight change in her plans. She needed to open the school. She felt the twinge of guilt for the kids she’d be leaving behind, especially Terrance, but he’d have a safe place to live, and if she could find somebody to run it with a good heart, then it would make a difference. There was a whole lot she needed to do in the next month, but she was a woman that worked well under pressure, and it wasn’t the first time she’d faced these kinds of deadlines.

“I have yet to secure the Haylens’ old place for the school.” The Haylens’ house was on the edge of town. It was a bit ramshackled, but it was huge with six bedrooms and a good-size yard. With elbow grease and determination, it would be perfect.

“I’ll take care of that.”

“You think you can sway Tyson to sell?” She’d been trying for a month to no avail. Every time she approached the irritating man, the price went up. And it hadn’t exactly started at reasonable.

He just looked at her. “I said I’d handle it.”

And that was that as far as he was concerned. So be it. Petunia folded her own arms across her chest. “Fine. Then under the condition you get the Haylen place for us tomorrow, Terrance can sleep on my sofa tonight.”

“I’m sure he’s slept on worse.”

Which just brought them back to the questions that had been plaguing her since Ace and Luke had ridden back into town with Terrance in tow.

“Did Brian really just let you walk in and take his son?” She knew Brian was a wastrel, but she didn’t believe he was that much of a wastrel. If nothing else, Terrance had value as a worker that made his father’s life easier.

“Not exactly, but in the end we came to an agreement.”

Petunia dropped her gaze to Ace’s hands, the ones he had tucked under his arms. She didn’t know what possessed her. It was against all propriety, but she reached out and caught his right pinky in her fingers. His hand was warm, but the palm surprisingly calloused for a man who gambled. He hadn’t always been a gambler or an assayer, she reminded herself. According to legend, Hell’s Eight was a lot of things. A group of almost mythical warriors. Fierce. Relentless.

She tugged. The only thing that moved was his left eyebrow.

“You wanting something?”

“I want to see your hand.”

“Why, going to slip a ring on it?”

She huffed. “I’m not that kind of woman, and you’re not that kind of man.”

The smile he gave her was genuine. “You’ve got that half right.”

She tugged again. This time he let her win. She was surprised to see the knuckles unscarred.

“Satisfied?” he asked, tucking his hand back under his arm and shifting his position.

“Hardly.”

She noticed the butt of the revolver on his left hip had a little less shine. It was then she remembered he was left-handed.

“Can I see the other hand?”

“Why?”

“I’m contrary that way.”

“I’ll give you that. You’re contrary.”

He didn’t make any move to show her his hand. She didn’t push it.

Rubbing her fingertips on her thigh she said, “I’m going to take it from that that those knuckles are bruised.”

“Assume all you want.”

“Did you hurt him?”

That got his attention. “Worried about his sorry ass?”

“No, I’m more hoping you beat him into the ground. He’s a brute and a bully, and it’s about time somebody gave him what he really deserved.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but he’s nursing a headache for sure.”

It soothed a bit of her anger to know that. “Is he going to come after Terrance?”

“At some point I imagine he will remember he’s a father, but I don’t think it’ll be in the near future.”

“How does Terrance feel about that?”

“I don’t think he feels anything. He seems to live for the right now.”

For some reason she felt the need to defend Terrance. “He’s a boy.”

“Uh-huh”

The wind blew a hair across her face. She brushed it out of her eyes. It fell back down, tickling her temple. “You don’t like children?”

“I don’t have anything against them. I don’t have anything for them beyond I don’t intend to have any ever.”

“Why not?”

“Do you really think I’d make a good father?”

Surprisingly, she did. He might have a wastrel profession but he also had a reputation for fighting for the underdog. He’d be a strong and protective father. And while breath filled his lungs, his children would never want.

Half turning, he pushed the hair that was tickling off her temple. “That hard an answer to come up with?”

“I was actually thinking you’d make a very good father. But heaven help your daughters.”

His brow snapped down, and that hand that had just touched her so tenderly curled into a fist. She had the oddest impression that he was hurt. “You think I’d hurt my girls?”

One would think she’d have the sense to be afraid, but she wasn’t. “I think they’d grow up in danger of becoming old maids waiting for a suitor brave enough to come courting.”

“Damn straight.” His expression traveled from wary to speculative in the space of a breath. “Have you been spending a lot of time thinking on me?”

She didn’t like to admit the truth. She also refused to lie. “Some. There’s not much to do in this town besides look at the local color, and you are colorful.”

“Do you always give a direct answer?”

“I try to be honest.”

“When it suits you?”

She sighed. Life would be so much easier if she could lie. “Even when it doesn’t.”

“Why? Lying’s easier.”

It was her turn to shrug. “People taking the easy way all the time is one of the reasons children like Terrance don’t get a chance, why women get black eyes from the men they love and why men sometimes have to be what they don’t want to be just to survive.”

“The last doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does. Not every man’s temperament is suited to a warrior’s life.”

Ace huffed. “Any man worth his salt knows how to fight.”

“I know, and it’s easier to say that rather than to accept differences.”

Ace stared at her for the longest time. “You are one strange woman, Petunia Wayfield.”

She kept her wince internal. “So I’ve been told.”

“By people that don’t appreciate it, I bet.”

“Nope,” she agreed, “no more than you do.”

“Oh?” His fingers skimmed the side of her cheek. “I appreciate this.”

This? This, her face? This, her position? Or this, the all of her?

“It’s just not for me.”

It just came tripping right off her tongue. “Why not?”

And his response came easily off his. “Because under all that spit and fire you’re a sweet, gentle woman who needs a man to hold her place.” Cupping her chin, he tipped her gaze to his. “It just can’t be me.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her sputtering for a comeback.

He was halfway to the saloon before, finally, she found her voice again. “What makes you think I’d want you?”

There was no way he could have heard that muttered utterance. No way at all, but his laugh when it drifted back, still flicked her nerves. The man was impossible. Fine looking, but impossible. Taking a moment to admire the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips and, Lord help her, the space in between, she watched until he stepped inside the saloon. The faint sound of greeting followed by a lilt of feminine laughter drifted in his wake. Anger pricked her pride before it dug a wedge deeper. She hated the thought of another woman touching Ace. She hated the thought that he thought she was good and sweet and treated both qualities as if they were something bad.

Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. She’d been hating a lot of things lately. More than usual the past few years. The way Ace saw her was just one more item tacked on to a long list. Truth was, she was frustrated and tired. If she could just get out to California where the rules were so much more liberal, where money made the person, not the gender, it would all be well.

More feminine laughter drifted out along with the faint murmur of Ace’s voice. Petunia would give anything to know what he was saying. She’d give anything to have the courage to march into that saloon and demand that he explain himself. Oh, hell, she rubbed her hands up and down her arm. Who was she kidding? She wanted an opportunity to prove him wrong about her, that she was more than enough woman for him and that being good didn’t make you useless, and being sweet didn’t mean you weren’t passionate. She was so tired of that silliness. She’d seen it so often, it’d smothered her for so long, it just made her teeth grind when somebody applied it to her. Anybody could be sweet when the moment called for it. Anybody could be kind. Anybody could be good. No one thing was the sum total of a person.

Slowly and deliberately she turned her back on the saloon. Through the restaurant window she saw Terrance was almost done with his dinner. Flicking her skirt straight and smoothing her hair, Petunia headed across the street to Luisa’s. Putting off the inevitable wasn’t going to make it go away. There was only one other patron in the restaurant, and he didn’t even give her the time of day when she stepped through the door. He was just shoveling his food into his mouth as fast as he could, some of it catching on his beard. No doubt he was eager to get over to the saloon for some cards and women.

She shuddered. She wouldn’t want to be the one receiving his attentions tonight. Honestly, she didn’t know how those women above stairs did it. Which just went to prove how much society needed to change. Women shouldn’t have to sell their bodies to survive. They ought to be able to make a living wage. They ought to be able to have some recourse to get out of a bad marriage and not be penniless and shunned. They ought to be able to keep their children. They ought to be able to vote, and they truly, truly ought to be able to have some standing under the law.

The anger in her thoughts must have showed on her face because as soon as she stopped beside the table, Terrance looked up at her, and his eyes went wide and he swallowed hard, his fork frozen halfway between the plate and his mouth. Luisa, seated beside Terrance, looked at her curiously. Petunia took a breath and forced a smile.

“Hello, Terrance.”

He nodded. Luisa handed him his napkin. He took it and wiped his mouth and his hands. Someone at some time had taught him basic manners. And he was trotting them out for her, the only thanks he could offer. Wrapped in a red velvet ribbon of hope.

“Hello, Miss Wayfield.”

In many ways they were alike. Struggling to be who they were in a world that wanted to call them something else. She could help him with that. Her smile began to feel more natural. “That sure looks like a delicious supper.”

“The best ever.”

Luisa smiled and ruffled his hair at the compliment. “He has the honey tongue, this one.”

His steak was half-eaten. Petunia would have been hard-pressed to eat a quarter of it. Looking at the thinness of his arms and the bones poking out his shoulders against his shirt, she figured he would probably eat that plate and more if his stomach would hold it. Terrance had the appearance of boy long starved for many things.

A part of her wished she could stay in Simple and fix everything, but she couldn’t. She knew that. It wasn’t practical. Neither the laws nor the community would back her. No, she had to keep her focus. Her future was in California. In California she was going to own her own business, own her own life and she was going to make a difference. But she could get things started for Terrance. It might delay her departure a little bit... She glanced at his bruised eye. He was her student. She owed him that. Forcing a smile, she said brightly, “My goodness, Terrance. That’s a man’s appetite you have there!”

“It’s good.” Luisa smiled at Terrance. “He has a good appetite. He will eat that steak all gone and then dessert.”

“You’re going to have dessert, too?” Where was he going to put it all?

Terrance nodded enthusiastically. “Apple pie,” he said as though they were talking about the best of nirvana which, to a boy without a mother to bake for him, she supposed apple pie might qualify.

“I make a good apple pie,” Luisa said proudly.

“That she does,” Petunia agreed. “I’ve had it a time or two myself.”

She couldn’t help but run her hands over her hips. She had to stop going to Maddie’s bakery and coming here to Luisa’s restaurant, but the truth was if left to her own devices, eating was minimal because she didn’t like to cook, and her efforts were marginally edible at best, but she loved to eat, and part of her salary as a teacher was two free meals a day at any of the town’s three restaurants. So basically, she paid for coffee in the morning because she didn’t care for breakfast, and then ate well the rest of the day.

Terrance took another bite of potato, chewed, swallowed and then frowned. “Mr. Parker says I’m going to be staying with you tonight.”

“That’s right.”

A little of the fear left his face. “And then I’ll go home tomorrow?”

Her smile came more naturally. If Ace was going to put the pressure on her, she’d throw some back on him.

“Mr. Parker said your father had to work on some... Had some things to deal with...some business to handle before...” Oh, gosh, she wasn’t good at lying.

The expression on Terrance’s face said he knew what she was trying to say, but she forced herself through to the finish because, well, because he was a little boy, and the truth that his father was a wastrel wasn’t something a woman threw in a little boy’s face. Not if she could leave him some illusions.

Clearing her throat, she started over. “Your father has some things to work on before you can go home, but tonight you’re going to stay with me at my house and then tomorrow we found this special place where you’ll stay. It’s sort of like a hotel for children.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never stayed at a hotel. Pa says they’re real fancy.”

“Well, this hotel might not be that fancy but...”

“Does it have a bed?”

She blinked. The question took her aback. “A very nice bed with clean sheets and a blanket and a soft pillow.”

Luisa blinked rapidly and patted his back. “And a nice quilt.”

Petunia looked at her. She didn’t know if they had quilts.

“I’m going to give you one that belonged to my son. A welcome present.”

Luisa’s son had died in his teens.

“It is a good quilt. Many happy memories inside, many happy dreams.”

“A quilt with happy dreams?” Terrance asked skeptically.

Luisa tilted her head back and looked down her nose sternly. It was a very effective look. “You doubt my word?”

“No.” He cut into his steak before asking, “Where’s your son now?”