Boot Hill Bride (11 page)
"Something troubling you?" Randi asked, her voice
quivering.
"Hmm...No, no, just have a lot to contemplate," he
admitted. "I've scheduled my grand opening for the first of
May and have a lot to get done between now and then."
"May first?" She turned and squinted, as if trying to see
the building site through the darkness that had befallen.
"That certainly is an ambitious goal."
"Yes, but with all the help, I think it's doable."
Her top lip was caught between her teeth, she nibble on it
as she took the last dish from the wagon bed. "I'll—I will help
in any way possible."
"Meals like you prepared today are a help. Men are always
more productive when well fed." He picked up the water
basin. "I'll dump these, and then I need to talk to Bug and
Snake about tomorrow's duties," he said, needing the time to
sort out a few wandering thoughts.
"Thank you, and thank you for helping with the dishes,"
she said hesitantly.
He mumbled a response and carried the basin away from
the camp site. This whole situation just kept getting deeper
and deeper. Randi's cooking skills would make her a real
asset while the building happened. The men would be well-
fed, and Ma would have time to sew the draperies, linens, and
uniforms for the wait staff he soon had to hire. He sloshed the
water from the pan and stared unseeingly at the stars above.
Married or not, it wouldn't be fair of him to ask her for
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assistance. The marriage was no more her choice than it had
been his.
But her help would certainly make his opening date easier
to accomplish, and once the hotel was up and running, he'd
have a touch more time to decide what to do about their
precarious situation. His steps faltered, she'd offered to help,
but did she want to? Did she even want to stay in Dodge?
He'd never asked what she wanted, not even when she'd told
him the story of how she'd ended up in his bed.
He walked back to get the second basin of dirty water and
waited near the front of the wagon until Randi had entered
the second tent his brother's had erected, the one now
holding the contents of the supply wagon. His forehead
tightened with a new problem, one that hadn't occurred to
him until this moment. Where was she going to sleep tonight?
He quickly emptied the second tub and set it aside before
entering Ma's tent. A pair of wire-framed spectacles sat on
the end of his mother's nose as she peered at the pages of a
magazine.
She glanced up, looking at him over the top rim of the
glasses. "At first I thought Lila was silly when she said your
employees should have uniforms, but now I think she's right,
and I found the perfect outfits for them. Look at these." She
held up the pages for him to view.
With a wave of his hand, he said, "I'll look at those later.
Randi needs to sleep in here with you."
She set the book on her lap. "In here? There ain't no room
for her in here."
"Sure there is." He pointed to the three small cots set up.
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"Nope. One's mine, one's Snake's, and one's Bug's. No
room for any others."
"Snake and Bug can sleep in my tent."
"You gone daft?" Ma asked.
"No—"
Ma leaped to her feet. Making her interruption to his
explanation more abrupt, she tossed the magazine onto her
chair. The pages slapped shut. "This here is Dodge City, Hog.
Ain't no way two women are gonna sleep in a tent, alone. Uh-
uh, no siree! No telling what kinda hoodlum might come
sneakin' along of the night."
"The boys and I will be just across the way."
"Yeah, and won't hear us a hollerin' until the hoodlums
done broke in. I can't believe you even thought up this
harebrained idea in that noggin of yours. Randi's sleepin' in
your tent, and your brothers are beddin' down in mine. End of
discussion," she said in her no nonsense way.
He couldn't give up yet, the idea of sleeping with Randi
every night wasn't distasteful, which is exactly why he
couldn't let it happen. Manly urges took over whenever she
was near. Actually, that was a lie. A very strong sex drive had
wracked his body all day, and the desire hadn't ebbed even
while he'd labored as hard as two men.
His voice was an octave too high when he said, "The boys
can sleep next door in the supply tent."
"Nope. It's packed full. And that's where I'll be doin' my
stitchin', and don't go thinkin' I'll let my stitchin' machine sit
outside just cause you're afraid to sleep with your wife." Ma's
voice grew louder with each word.
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By the time she finished, flames licked at the tops of his
ears. He glanced to the doorway, hoping his brother's hadn't
heard, yet knowing they had.
"Ma, hush up!"
"Don't tell me to hush up! You may be bigger-'n me, but
I'm still your Ma and will wallop you good if'n you don't watch
your mouth." Her well-known, don't defy me gaze shot from
her blazing eyes.
Howard cowered as if he were still six years old.
"Now, go on, get outta here! I got things ta do before
turnin' in." She shooed him to the door with both hands.
The cold night air slapped his cowardly feelings aside,
replaced them with anger as he stomped toward the fire
where his brothers sat. Randi had rejoined them, his red plaid
shirt tucked tight around her seersucker dress. All of their
gazes settling on the blaze of the fire said they'd heard at
least some, if not all, of Ma's outburst. He ran a hand through
his hair.
"Problems, little brother?" Snake asked with a snigger.
He clinched his teeth so hard pain shot across his jaw.
Ignoring the low guffaws coming from both of his brothers, he
walked over to Randi. "It's awfully chilly out, you best head
on into the tent."
Her gaze flashed between Ma's tent and his.
His body was too tense to speak, so he pointed toward his
tent.
She stood, clutching the shirt with both hands. "All right.
I'll-uh-I'll see you all in the morning. Good night, Bug. Good
night, Snake."
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Both boys responded by standing and bid her a good night.
Her gaze didn't flutter his way but settled on the ground as
she turned to walk toward the tent. A tidal wave of regret
washed over his body, and he shrank onto a stump near the
fire, his back to her sluggish departure.
The silence popped and snapped with more friction than
the fire emitted. He ignored it for as long as he could.
"We-uh-gotta lot done today," he said, hoping his brothers
could be drawn into a simple conversation.
"Uh-uh," Snake said, a hint of laughter still tickling his
voice.
"The blacksmith said he'd have my pipe driver done day
after tomorrow," Bug said, clearly trying to hold the humor
out of his tone.
Howard nodded. "That's good." With the toe of his boot he
nudged a log deeper into the flames and watched bright
yellow sparks rise up and disappear above the swirls of
smoke. The boys didn't speak, nor did he. What could he say?
They'd heard Ma proclaim he was afraid to sleep with his wife.
How on earth was a man supposed to respond to that? It
wasn't that he was afraid. It was...He swallowed the log in his
throat. Damn, he'd never be able to sleep lying next to her.
Even sitting here, stinging from the cold of the night, his
fingers tingled, wanting to touch her silky skin, caress the
curve of her back and examine those perfect dimples—
"Holy shit!" Snake exclaimed under his breath.
Howard snapped his head up. Both of his brothers stared
over his shoulders, their mouths agape, and their eyes as
round as biscuits.
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"What?" he asked, twisting his neck to follow the trail of
their gazes. His jaw went lax, the bottom of his chin all but
slapped against his chest. The sight he stared at knocked the
air out of him harder than being thrown off a wild bucking-
bronc.
Inside the canvas, the flickering light of the lantern made
his tent glow brighter than the moon. The white, heavy tarp
had become pale yellow, and a dark silhouette moved about
inside the gently billowing sides. It was a moment before his
eyes locked on the shadow and registered what he saw,
sending the impulse to his brain.
Randi was undressing, and the light projected each
movement against the canvas screen more clearly than the
finest painter could create. Her graceful womanly profile
moved with perfection, as she drew her gown over her head.
The contours of her breasts, flat stomach, the inward arch of
her lower back, and her long slender legs became clearly
visible to onlookers.
"Shit!" Howard leaped to his feet. Almost as an
afterthought, he grabbed the hat off his head and swiped it at
both of his brothers, knocking theirs askew. "Turn around!"
he demanded before storming off toward his tent.
Jogging across the grass, he shouted, "Randi! Randi!
Dowse the light!"
The silhouette inside stalled.
"Dowse the light!" he repeated.
She moved across the interior, met him at the door.
"What?" She poked her head out between the flaps.
"Dowse the light!"
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"But I'm not done—"
"Dowse the light!" he shouted loud enough to be heard on
the other side of Dodge.
"All right," she said and within seconds the tent went dark.
A heavy sigh oozed out of his lungs. The faint sounds of
laughter floated on the air. He didn't bother looking back
toward his brothers, knew it was worthless to try and subdue
their reactions.
When the hard knots of tension let loose a fraction, enough
to where he could breathe, he opened the flap and stepped in
the dark tent.
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Randi tugged the covers up to her chin and stared at the
ceiling of the tent. Thick heavy foreboding filled the small
space. Howard was clearly upset with her, and the knowledge
made her tremble from top to bottom. Soft thuds sounded as
he undressed and prepared for bed. She'd half-excepted him
to find someplace else to sleep after the altercation with his
mother, the one where he'd made it as plain as the nose on
her face he didn't want to sleep in the same tent as her.
She drew in a breath and tried to find an ounce of grit. "I-
uh-I'm sorry," she squeaked.
"Just...go to sleep," he muttered, not necessarily unkind
but with a biting edge. A second later, he tugged the blanket
aside and slipped between the sheets to lie beside her.
"But really, I'm sorry—"
"Randi." His voice held a tone of warning.
She gulped and tightened her muscles against the shivers.
Shame settled upon her like a thick cloud when his deep sigh
mingled with the quiet air.
"I-uh..." She had no idea what she wanted to say, just
knew she wanted him to know the last thing she wanted was
to cause him trouble, and she was dreadfully sorry for
whatever had made him so upset.
"You do know that when you light a lamp inside a tent at
night people can see in, don't you?" He sounded incredulous.
Utterly confused and still staring at the nondescript tent
ceiling, she asked, "What?"
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"At night, when its dark out and you light a lamp inside a
tent, people can see right through the canvas."
It took a moment for his statement to weave its way
through her dulled mind, but when it did, it was as if he'd
thrown a bucket of water on her. Anyone who cared to look
would have seen her undressing.
"Oh, no," she muttered. "Did Snake and—"
"Yes," he answered.
"Oh, no," she groaned, completely mortified.
"Don't worry about it now, try to get some sleep," he said,
flipping onto his side.
She didn't answer but rolled over so her back faced his.
Don't worry about it? Get some sleep?
Now that would be an
impossible task. She'd never been so humiliated in her life,
and all he could say was get some sleep?
The space between them was wide enough to allow a draft
of cold air to flow beneath the blanket. She squeezed her
eyes shut and prayed for her body not to shiver against the
chill. It didn't work—she started to shake harder than a
scared rabbit, probably more from what had just happened
than the chilly air.
The mattress shook, and heat instantly covered her back.
"Come here," Howard whispered in her ear as his arms,
one under her neck, the other over her waist, pulled her up