“He’s too drunk to be hurt.”
Her eyes wide, Sarah looked past Jake’s shoulder and saw the drunk struggle to his feet and stagger back inside. “But it’s the middle of the day.”
“Just as easy to get drunk in the daylight as it is when the sun’s down.”
Her lips primmed. “It’s just as disgraceful.” Whiskey might be the work of the devil, Sarah thought, but she had promised Lucius. “I wonder if I might ask you another favor?”
“You can ask.”
“I need a bottle of whiskey.”
Jake took off his hat and smoothed back his hair, then replaced the hat. “I thought you didn’t care for it much.”
“It’s not for me. It’s for Lucius.” She was certain she heard the sound of breaking glass from the neighboring saloon as she reached for her reticule. “I’m afraid I don’t know the price.”
“Lucius is good for it. Go back inside,” he told her, then passed through the swinging doors.
“Quite a man, isn’t he?”
Sarah lifted a hand to her heart. “Mrs. O’Rourke, you startled me.”
Grinning, Maggie stepped outside. “Your mind was elsewhere.” She handed Sarah a bundle. “Good-looking, Jake is. Strong back, good hands. A woman can hardly ask for more.” Maggie glanced over as the din from the saloon grew louder. “You don’t have a fella back east, do you?”
“A what?” Distracted, Sarah inched closer to the saloon. She hated to admit it, but she was dying to see inside. “Oh, no. At least there was no one I cared for enough to many.”
“A smart woman knows how to bring a man around to marriage and make him think it was his idea all along. You take Jake-” Maggie broke off when Sarah squealed. Two men burst through the swinging doors and rolled into the street, fists flying.
“My goodness.” Her mouth hanging open, Sarah watched the two men kick and claw and pummel each other.
“I thought I told you to go inside.” Jake strolled out, carrying a bottle of whiskey by the neck.
“I was just-Oh!” She saw blood fly as a fist connected with a nose. “This is dreadful. You have to stop them.”
“Like hell I do. Where’s your wagon?”
“But you must,” Sarah insisted. “You can’t simply stand here and watch two men beat each other like this.”
“Duchess, if I try to break that up, both of them are going to start swinging at me.” He passed her the bottle of whiskey. “I don’t feel much like killing anybody today.”
With a huff, Sarah thrust the bottle back into his hands and followed it with the fabric and Maggie’s bundle. “Then I’ll stop them myself.”
“It’s going to be a shame when you lose some of those pretty teeth.”
Taking time only to glare at him, Sarah bent down and scooped up the spittoon Maggie kept beside her doorway. Her skirts in one hand, weapon in the other, she marched toward the middle of the melee.
“That’s some woman,” Maggie said with a grin.
Jake merely grunted. “Got grit.”
“Go water down your stew.”
Maggie just laughed. “She’s got you, too. Hope I’m around when she figures it out.”
A little breathless, Sarah dodged the rolling bodies. The men were groaning and hissing as they struggled to land punches. The smell of stale whiskey and sweat rose from both of them. She had to scramble a bit for aim before she brought the brass down with a thunk on one head and then the other. A roar of laughter, then a few cheers, poured out the doorway of the saloon. Ignoring the sound, Sarah looked down at the two men, who were frowning at her and rubbing their heads.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” she told them, in a tone that would have made Mother Superior proud. “Fighting in the street like a couple of schoolboys. You’ve done nothing but bloody your faces and make a spectacle of yourselves. Now stand up.” Both men reached for their hats and struggled to their feet. “I’m sure whatever disagreement you have can be better solved by talking it out.” Satisfied, Sarah nodded politely, then glided back across the street to where Jake and Maggie stood.
“There.” She handed Maggie the spittoon. Her self-satisfied smirk was for Jake alone. “It was only a matter of getting their attention, then applying reason.” He glanced over her head to where the two men were wrestling in the dirt again. “Yes, ma’am.” Taking her arm, he started up the street before she could get it in her head to do something else. “Did you learn to swing like that in your fancy school?”
“I had occasion to observe the nuns’ techniques for handling disagreements.”
“Ever get knocked on the head with a spittoon?”
She tilted her head, her eyes laughing under the cover of her lashes. “No, but I know what a wooden ruler feels like.” Sarah glanced in the dry goods as she stopped by her wagon. Inside, she could see Liza flirting with a thin, gangly man with straw-colored hair and shiny brown boots.
“Is that Will Metcalf?”
Jake stowed the rest of her things in the back of the wagon. “Yeah.”
“I think Liza’s quite taken with him.” She bit back a sigh. Romance was as far away from her right now as the beautiful house her father had built for her in his mind. Turning, she bumped into Jake’s chest. His hands came up to steady her and stayed on her arms. Not so far away, she thought again. It wasn’t far away at all when it could reach out and touch you.
“You got to watch where you’re going.”
“I usually do. I used to.” He was going to kiss her again, right there in the center of town. She could feel it. She could almost taste it.
He wanted to. He wanted five minutes alone with her, though he knew there was no use, it was no good.
“Sarah-”
“Good morning, Jake.” Twirling her parasol, Carlotta sauntered up to the wagon. Smiling slightly she ignored the warning look he sent her and turned her attention to Sarah. She’d already decided to hate her, for what she was, for what she had. Her smile still in place, she skimmed her gaze up and down Sarah. Pure and proper and dull, she decided. Jake would be tired of her in a week. But in the meantime it would give her pleasure to make the little priss uncomfortable. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Jake ignored her and kept a hand on Sarah’s arm to steer her to the front of the wagon.
Sarah didn’t recognize the basic female urge, the primal urge, to face the enemy down. She only knew she wouldn’t have the woman smirking at her back. “I’m Sarah Conway.” She didn’t offer her hand, she simply nodded. It was as much of an insult as Carlotta’s sneering scrutiny.
“I know who you are.” Carlotta smiled, fully, even as her eyes turned to blue ice. “I knew your pa. I knew him real well.”
The blow hit home. Carlotta was delighted to see it. But when her eyes skimmed up to meet Jake’s, most of the pleasure she felt died. She’d seen him look at men that way when they’d pushed him too far. With a toss of her head, she turned away. He’d come around, she told herself. Men always did.
His mouth grim, Jake reached for Sarah’s arm again to help her into the wagon. The moment his fingers brushed her, she jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.” She had to turn, to grip the edge of the wagon, until she caught the breath Carlotta had knocked out of her. All of her illusions were shattered now. The idea of her father, her own father, with a woman like that was more than she could take.
He’d have preferred to walk away. Just turn and keep going. Infuriated, he dug his hands into his pockets. “Let me help you into the damn wagon, Sarah.”
“I don’t want your help.” She whirled back to face him. “I don’t want anything from you. Do you understand?” “No, but then I don’t figure I’m supposed to.”
“Do you kiss her the same way you kissed me? Did you think of me the same way you think of her and women like her?”
His hand shot out to stop her before she could scramble into the wagon. “I wasn’t thinking at all when I
