Anything for You (10 page)

She should jump back onto the sled and head home to the cook shack. Her feet refused to listen to good sense. Her hands were just as rebellious as they remained on Adam's shoulders while she gazed up into his eyes. When his fingers glided around her waist, hers explored the breadth of his shoulders. He pulled her to him, and she gasped at the pressure of his strong legs against her skirt.

“Let's go inside,” he repeated in a low whisper. “You're going to freeze if you stay out here. You're shivering as if you're ready to come apart.”

“Yes, let's go in,” she answered, although she could not imagine freezing when she stood in his arms.

As she walked with him toward the saloon, she nodded to the men by the flamboyantly lit door and pretended not to see their astonishment.

“'Evening, boys,” Adam said.

The jacks just stared.

When Adam opened the door, cigar smoke smothered Gypsy. Blinking, she brushed it aside. Her eyes widened.

A woman sat on a counter near the entrance, her freckled skin bared by the scandalous neckline of her gown. Her chubby knees, dimpled above rolled down stockings, were visible beneath her kilted dress. Gypsy had never seen the owner of the Porcelain Feather Saloon, but she knew the black-haired woman in the outrageous emerald green dress must be Nissa Jensen. The flunkeys had talked many times about Nissa's wide cigar.

Not that Nissa was homely. Her round face was apple cheeked as she smiled brazenly and winked at Adam. Her mouth became as round as her eyes when she stared at Gypsy. Gypsy looked past her to see tables scattered in front of the long bar that took up the whole back wall.

Nissa jumped down. Tugging her gown over her full hips, she grinned. “I'll be, Adam. You convinced her to come. I should have guessed a looker like you would be able to twist any gal's heart, even Gypsy Elliott's.” Without giving him a chance to reply, she went on. “It's about time you stopped by, Gypsy.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Gypsy replied, not sure what else to say.

“You're lying, and we both know it, but it's nice to meet you, too.” Nissa's infectious grin broadened to reveal a pair of gold teeth. “That ain't a lie. Whatever else my life offers, I don't have to hide behind propriety.”

Gypsy smiled. “You don't seem to be hiding much here.”

“Not on the floor,” she said as she yanked on the shoulder of her dress to let it fall farther down her pudgy arm. Again she winked at Adam. “In the cribs, the gals get used to lying in a man's ear while they're lying in his arms. Right, laddie?”

Heat warned Gypsy she was blushing. Before Adam had burst into her life, she had not blushed in years. Coming to the Porcelain Feather had been a mistake. She should leave right away.

She gasped as Nissa linked arms with her. “C'mon, Gypsy. Let me show you around the place.”

“I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Scared we'll ruffle your sensibilities?”

Gypsy was about to reply when her eyes were caught by Adam's amusement. He must have set this up. Nissa had not been surprised Gypsy was here, only that Adam had persuaded her to come.

“What few sensibilities I have left after my years in the north woods don't ruffle easily.” Gypsy arched a brow in Adam's direction.

“Good girl,” Nissa crowed. “C'mon.” Over her shoulder, she added, “Come along, Adam. Let's see what entertainment we can find for your Gypsy. We ain't used to the jacks bringing their own gals with them. This should be fun.”

Fun
was the last word Gypsy would have chosen. As she stepped beneath the ring of lanterns, she understood a beast's fear when it was caught in one of the traps set by the jacks. As Nissa chattered, she led Gypsy on a sinuous path between the tables, which were cramped with men.

A pain-filled screech froze Gypsy in midstep. She scanned the room, sure someone was strangling a woman.

“Don't look like that, Gypsy.” Pointing toward the end of the bar, Nissa said, “That's just Lolly. Lolly Yerkes. Fortunately the loggers like looking at her enough to put up with her singing.”

Gypsy stared at the blonde, who wore a short wrapper. The singer stood with her foot on a bottle so the men had a view of her silk stockings topped by a lacy garter. Waving her hands like an opera diva, she continued to make that horrid sound. Cheers met every trill.

Laughter came from behind Gypsy. When she glanced back, she gasped. Where was Adam? Blast him for bringing her here and leaving her with Nissa!

Her flush of fury vanished. It must be almost impossible to maneuver through the crowd with his crutch.

But where was he? She searched the room. Every male face was familiar. She was astonished to see Chauncey Lewis, the camp's inkslinger, with the young blond singer perched on his knee.

He was not the only man with a woman draped over him. Peabody should know better than to cavort with some whore while his wife was at his farm raising his six children alone.

Where was Adam? Once she found him, she would leave. This was no place for her. The jacks were going to be embarrassed to see her here. Farley would be furious if this upset the men. Not that she was worried about his sending her on the hay trail, but if Daniel heard about this …

“Nissa, I think—”

“Lost Adam, haven't we?” gushed Nissa. “Go on over to the bar, Gypsy, and I'll round up your gentleman. Have yourself a drink on the house.”

“Thank you.”

Nissa grinned. “Don't thank me, dearie. This should make for an interesting evening.” She vanished into the crowd.

Knowing it was useless to try to find Adam in the packed room, Gypsy turned to the rough bar. It was crowded, but her elbow in the back of a logger gained her enough room to fold her hands on the scarred top. Posters of half-dressed women were nailed to the wall behind a vast collection of whiskey bottles. A keg of beer sat to one side, a damp spot on the floor where the foam had spilled over the rims of the tin mugs.

“Gypsy!”

She glanced over her shoulder, not surprised to see Oscar when she heard his voice break. Smiling, she asked, “Is it always this crowded?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He blushed to his roots and fled.

“Ma'am?” she repeated. He always called her Gypsy. This
was
going to cause all kinds of trouble.

“What'll you have?” The burly bartender must have noticed she had no drink.

Glancing at the whiskey the men were downing as if it tasted as good as her apple pie, she said, “Nothing, thank you.”

“Then move away.” His tiny eyes nearly popped from his head. “What are you doing here? Ain't no place for a woman who don't work here.”

Wanting to agree, Gypsy pushed through the crowd. There was scarcely room for twenty people in the room, and more than three times that number must be packed into it. Every breath she took was flavored with sweat and whiskey. Finding Adam among this press of flesh wrapped in stinking wool might be impossible, even for Nissa.

An arm slithered around her, and she tried to pull away. It clamped tightly to her, tugging her against a hard body. Bold fingers settled on her waist.

“Well, well, little lady, don't think I've seen you about afore. What do you say to finding a place to get better acquainted? I—” The man choked as if he had swallowed his drink the wrong way. “Gypsy!”

She pulled away and said coldly, “Good evening, Benson.”

His face became as red as the coals in the blacksmith's shop. Shocked that she had seen two jacks blush tonight, she left him stuttering. She had to get out of here. Now!

She elbowed through the crowd. The men let her pass, but their amazed gazes pierced her. She had learned a lesson tonight. Listening to Adam was a sure way to find herself neck-deep in trouble.

Another hand grabbed her arm. Trying to shake it off, she snapped, “I've got nothing for sale tonight.”

“For free then?”

“Adam!”

He grinned as he folded his arms on top of his crutch. “Where did you go?”

“Where I went isn't as important as where I'm going.”

“At least let's have a drink, Gypsy. It's a long, cold ride to camp. I'd like something to warm my belly for the trip back.”

“That's not a good idea. I'm making the jacks uncomfortable.”

“Gypsy—”

“Let her go,” answered a high-pitched voice.

Gypsy stared at the woman who slunk around Adam and leaned one bare arm on his crutch. It was Lolly, the woman who had been screeching on stage. Beneath her short wrapper, her bright garter rubbed against Adam's leg in an open invitation.

Lolly ran her fingers along his arm and whispered, “Let your kingbee cook go. I'll show you some real heat in the kitchen.”

Adam brushed her fingers off and looked at Gypsy. When he saw her trying to hide a smile, he wondered if he would ever understand her. One minute, she was fleeing from the saloon as if the devil were on her tail. The next, she was ready to laugh at Lolly.

“You warned me about kitchen skills, Gypsy,” he said with a chuckle. To Lolly, he added, “Not tonight, darling.” As he reached for Gypsy's hand, the blonde stepped between them. He frowned. “Lolly, I said I'm not interested.”

“Maybe you're no man after all. She'll never do anything for you. Cold as a Michigan winter, she is.”

Gypsy said quietly, “Mr. Lassiter said he wasn't interested. Why don't you crawl away and bother someone else?”

“Why don't you get out of here?” Lolly's voice rose to a screech. “We don't want your type here.”

“And what type is that? Decent? Hardworking?”

“Watch it, Gypsy,” Adam warned as he drew her back from Lolly. “Let's go.”

“And I was beginning to have fun,” she said with a chuckle.

“Just be care—”

He swore as Gypsy was spun away. She screamed when Lolly clawed at her. Shouts erupted all over the room. He reached out to keep Lolly from hurting Gypsy, and ducked when a fist came at him.

No, not at him. Lolly rocked back and collapsed into a pile at his feet. Looking past her, he saw Gypsy shaking her hand and rubbing her knuckles.

“Nice hit,” he said.

“Couldn't have done better myself,” Nissa said, shoving her way through the clump of men.

Gypsy blinked, glancing from Lolly to Adam's grin to the astonishment on the jacks' faces. What was she doing? She had never been in a saloon brawl. This was insane!

Embarrassment flooded through her when she saw how fury tightened Peabody's lips. Chauncey grumbled something to Bert.

Nissa flung her arm around Gypsy's shoulders. “You all right, dearie?” Her chuckle rumbled around the stub of her cigar. Tapping ashes onto the floor next to Lolly, she waved the cigar at the men. “Show's over, boys. Drink up a round on me.”

Cheers met her words, and the men surged almost as one toward the bar. Nissa signaled to two of her women. They came to wake Lolly.

Peabody did not go to the bar. “Gypsy, are you crazy? You shouldn't be here.”

“I did—”

Stepping between her and the irate bull of the woods, Adam said, “I brought her. If you've got a problem, talk to me.”

“You both should have known better.”

Wagging her finger, Nissa chided, “Simmer down. Gypsy did just fine without you butting in like two old goats.” She patted Gypsy's arm. “C'mon. You need a drink. Might put some color back into your cheeks.”

Gypsy shook her head. “No, thank you. I'm going home.”

“Just when the fun's begun?”

Pushing her hair back under her bonnet, she retied the ribbons. “For me, the fun's over.”

Laughter twinkled in Adam's eyes as he offered his arm. Too low for anyone else to hear, he said, “I didn't think when I asked you to go for a spin that you'd leave Lolly with a spinning head.”

She groaned. “I can't believe I hit her.”

“Looks as if you had experience.”

“My brother taught me to defend myself.” She opened the door, but faltered as the wind buffeted her. She usually did not go out after dark in order to avoid this bone-numbing cold. When Adam pulled her collar up around her ears, she smiled.

“The Porcelain Feather Saloon isn't quite what you expected, is it?” he asked.

“It's everything I expected. This was one time the jacks didn't have to exaggerate.”

Entwining his gloved fingers with hers, he said nothing. She raised her gaze to meet the honesty in his blue eyes, which were as warm and bottomless as a summer pond. The noise from the saloon muted to a whisper as he lifted her hand to his lips. The soft caress of his mustache sent a mesmerizing stream of fire through her as his lips teased her fingers with a brief, questioning kiss.

“Adam,” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“This isn't the place.”

He smiled. “My dear Gypsy, this is indeed the place. A quick word to Nissa and a coin, and we could have any crib for a delightful tryst.”

She jerked her hand away and stamped toward the sled. His laughter added to her fury, but she was angry at herself. When was she going to learn?

“Are you planning on charging all the way back to camp?” He laughed.

“There's no need for your evening to end. I can walk back.”

“Alone?”

At his amazement, she faced him. His mustache was already white with his frozen breath, but his eyes burned as hotly as the stove.

“Who would hurt me here?” she asked. “Other than Lolly.”

He did not laugh.

“What are you suggesting?” His silence unnerved her. “None of the jacks would hurt me.”

“No?”

“No! Don't try to scare me just so you can …”

Adam shoved his crutch under his arm and followed her through the softly falling snow. “Scaring you just so I could take you back to camp was not my primary intention. Didn't you want honesty?”