Brighter Tomorrows (3 page)

Chapter Five

Callie leaned back in her chair and enjoyed watching Chase devour the last of his breakfast. It always pleased her to watch a man fully appreciate something she had cooked.

“I’ve shopping to do, so I may see you in town,” she said, setting down her coffee cup.

He glanced up. “Be happy to get what you need and save you a trip.”

“I appreciate your offer, but I’ll need the wagon. I need several odds and ends, plus a lot more flour and corn meal for the corn bread I’m making for the Fourth’s celebration. I should stop to see Marianne, and then Laura at the Chat-a-While, too. I’ve neglected them all week.”

“They your two best friends? Heard tell the Chat-a-While serves the best pie in Wyoming and more,” he said with a bright grin.

“They’re both like sisters. And you better believe it. Laura serves good food, but her pies are absolutely scrumptious. She’ll have five or six kinds at the celebration. You’ll want try them all.”

“Coming from you, I’ll do that. Love pie, any kind. Sheriff Millet said they do up a quite a big shindig here for the Fourth.”

“They sure do. All afternoon, there’s games and contests, crafts sales, and socializing. Supper goes on forever. At dusk, the music and dancing start, followed by fireworks. Lots and lots of fireworks.”

“I can tell you like the fireworks the best,” he said with a chuckle. “Will you save me a dance, pretty lady?”

His compliment arrowed straight to her heart. She trembled in anticipation of dancing with him, and that was surprising. And only four more days. “I certainly will, but I thought you’d be guarding the bank. Don’t robbers prefer to break in when no one’s there?”

“You read too many dime novels?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. “If no one’s there, they’d have to blast it. Takes way more time, more brains than they have, and before the boom stopped there’d be people swarmin’ the place. Nope, they’ll plan it the day before or after the holiday. We’ll take turns watching the bank throughout the fourth but only as a precaution. Got men trackin’ their progress.” 

“Would you like more coffee, Marshal?” she asked as she sipped the last of hers.

“I’m full to the brim, but thank you, Miss L—” He shook his head. “You said you like to cut to the chase, so let’s do it. I’d more than welcome you calling me Chase when it’s just the two of us. And I’d be honored if you’d allow me to call you Callie. Callie short for another name?”

“Calinda,” she almost gagged, “is my given name, but I prefer Callie, please.” She hadn’t meant to sound curt, but she hated the memories attached to the other.

She noted his intense eyes probing, sharp and assessing. “And will you let me hear you say ‘Chase’ before I leave?” His lips curved slightly as he pushed back from the table.

“Chase.” Her heart hammered at the intimacy.

“I like hearing my name on your lips, Callie,” he said as he stood, gathered his plate and utensils and took them to the kitchen.

“I’ll hitch your wagon before I leave. At lunch, I’ll carry in the heavy things for you, so just leave them in the wagon.”

“Thank you, but you don’t ha—”

“I know I don’t. Let me have the pleasure of helping.” He flashed that darn wink and left. The July heat in no way matched her bloodstream.

♥ ♥ ♥

Once Callie made all her purchases at Harper’s and Jacob had loaded them in the wagon, she ran across the street to chat with Laura over coffee.

A little while later, Callie drew her wagon up in front of Grover’s Sweet Scents and rushed inside to greet Marianne. At twenty-one, Marianne had lost her mother years ago and her father just last year. Keeping the house, she sold off most of the farm land, cattle, and horses, but continued to raise rabbits and ducks for sale. She had three cats and two dogs and, of course, one cow and a buckskin mare. She had opened Sweet Scents where she made and sold her perfumes and colognes, soaps, lotions, candles, herbs and potions. With her new Singer sewing machine, she offered ready-made dresses, gloves and hats. She now stocked men’s and women’s boots and shoes that were more stylish than what Harper’s carried.

The two chatted like magpies while they dusted the front window displays.  Marianne turned dreamy-eyed and her smile widened. Callie felt a laugh try to escape when Marianne’s next words stopped her cold.

“Oh, Callie, I met the handsomest, nicest man two days ago. His name is Matt Tremayne and he’s passing through to a new job on a ranch north of here, but he…oh Lord, he set my heart to pounding when he first looked at me. He’s only twenty-four, but he seems so much more mature, and his voice—” She broke off, and in a moment, went on shyly, “Just to hear him talk sent thrills through me to my toes like I’ve never felt before. And he never once commented on my gimpy leg.”

Callie saw red. With hands fisted on hips, she glared. “I’ll say it again; a lame leg doesn’t make you any less of a person. All Timothy wanted was a wife who could work his farm from sunup till sundown, and when he realized you couldn’t, he showed his true colors. He wasn’t worth your time.”

Marianne burst out laughing. “My staunch defender. My guardian angel. My—”

“Oh, stop,” Callie spat. “I’m just saying it like it was. Howard wanted a rich wife. When he found out you weren’t as rich as he thought, he hightailed it. You’re too good for someone like either of them.”

Marianne scowled. “If it hadn’t been for my gimp leg—”

“I’m telling you, your leg shouldn’t make a difference,” Callie snapped.

“That’s fine for you to say. You don’t want a man. I do. I want love, laughter… and a few cuddles.”

Callie raised her brows. “Only a few cuddles? Really?” When their gazes met, they started laughing with a spate of shared giggles just as the overhead bell jingled.

♥ ♥ ♥

“Shucks, Matt, I think we just missed a good joke.” Chase grinned at the two lovely women in the throes of merriment. Callie’s allure robbed his breath, and his desires flamed as hot as a raging camp fire. His growing feelings scared the hell out of him. He hadn’t wanted to care again.

They jumped and turned. Their mutual rounded-eyed surprise looked as if they had been caught smoking a cigar. “Why…Mr. Tate,” Callie stammered as her cheeks turned a delightful shade of rose. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Her eyes sparkled. Pleasure he knew he should not allow crept through him.

“Met young Tremayne, here, and he wanted to stop and say hello to Miss Grover.”

“I couldn’t walk past your shop without saying good morning, Marianne,” Matt said, his firm, deep voice once again surprising Chase. Matt had matured ten years before his eyes. After only two days, they were on first-name basis, Matt and Marianne. Chase smiled. The kid had it bad. Who the hell was he to talk?

“That’s so nice to hear, Matt. I welcome your visits anytime,” Miss Grover said sweetly as she crossed the room.

Chase noticed her slight limp.

“Have you met my dear friend, Miss Callie Lynch? She runs the boarding house, Apple Grove Inn.” Miss Grover smiled at Matt.

“No, I haven’t,” Matt replied. “It’s a pleasure,” he tipped his head in greeting.

“Thank you, Mr. Tremayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Marianne mentioned she’d met you. Have you seen her animals? If you like cats, dogs, ducks, and rabbits, you’re in for a treat.” She offered a congenial smile, yet Chase noted her eagle eye as she awaited Matt’s reply.
Hmm.

Matt’s eyebrows arched as his eyes went round. He glanced at Marianne. “You never mentioned animals. Are they here?” The minute his grin turned into a wide, open smile, Chase noted Callie’s satisfied smile—a smile that just about completely disarmed him.
Get a grip, Matlock!

Marianne shook her head. “They’re at home. Sometimes, I bring Hunter and Millie, my two dogs, but not too often. They’re happier at home.” She beamed at Matt, and Chase figured the two lovebirds had totally forgotten two other people were present.

“I love animals. I’d enjoy seeing them sometime,” Matt eagerly offered.

“You can visit any time,” Marianne returned with equal zeal.

“Please excuse me, but I need to be on my way.” He nodded. “Miss Grover, Miss Lynch.”  He leveled Matt with a scowl he hoped told the young’un to hustle so they could meet the others. As he exited, he heard Matt offer his apology to Marianne for leaving so soon.

♥ ♥ ♥

“How do you know Mr. Tate? And who is he?” Marianne asked with a curious glint in her eyes as she leaned against the main counter. 

“He’s a land speculator and investor. He’s also a boarder,” Callie answered feeling like a nervous, naughty child. She loved Marianne like a sister, but she didn’t have any answers, and she didn’t want to talk about their relationship— actually, their non-relationship.

“Oh?” Marianne tapped her chin with her finger. “You mean a boarder like the ones you weren’t accepting until you finished remodeling?” Marianne smiled a knowing smile. Rats!

“He…he wasn’t comfortable staying at the hotel, and I had nearly finished most of the painting and messy things.” She avoided eye contact.

Marianne actually laughed aloud! Callie cringed at Marianne’s hilarity her friend gasped for breath. “Oh, this is too good to be true.”

“Get whatever thoughts are plaguing that nutty brain of yours out of there. I gave him a room.” She regretted she had to lie to protect Chase and the others. Yet, she also knew she fibbed about her developing feelings.

“All right, just because he’s gorgeous and nice why should I think anything of it? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Marianne, I love you dearly, but I have a hundred things to do. Yes, he’s gorgeous, and I’m fighting my attraction with every ounce of strength I have. He’s my boarder. If you’re truly my friend, you won’t nag. I don’t want more from him than his board.”

Callie hugged her, kissed her cheek and stepped back. “I like your Matt. Just don’t set your cap to high for him until you know him better.”  Dear God, how she wished she could warn her friend not to invest her time in Matt. His life would be in jeopardy every day as a marshal. He would be gone soon. Her heart curled into a tight ball. Chase would be leaving, too.

♥ ♥ ♥

Saturday morning arrived with Chase explaining he would not be back until supper, and after they had eaten, he’d join a poker game at the saloon to glean new information and touch base with a few of his team.  Although he failed to go into details, he did say he planned to check with a few scouts that were tracking the outlaws’ progress. He would also be making arrangements for various people to play their parts.

She laughed as he described several lawmen that had the right physique and with some added stuffing here and there and wigs would portray lovely ladies. Throughout the day they would be in and out of the bank, or meander throughout the shops close by. When he informed her he’d mostly be inside the bank, she hid the anxiety that lanced her chest as her stomach clenched tight.

Surprisingly, she found herself downhearted. When he left, she would miss their talks, their banter, and his nearness. In four short days, she had become more than fond of him. She longed for so much more. Yet, she realized a relationship would be beyond any dream. Dreams were meant for children, not sinners. No matter how much she now longed to trust, she wasn’t sure she dared.

♥ ♥ ♥

The mid-afternoon temperature outside the Thirsty Goat Saloon neared ninety, but the sun’s extreme brilliance threatened to ignite a fire. Chase knew about fire; he played with it every time he flirted with Callie. Alone at a table in the far corner, he leaned back in the chair, welcomed another cool sip of beer, then pretended to be engrossed in the newspaper. No sense in drawing attention of the other two patrons at the bar while he waited for what he hoped to be a positive report from Henry Boll.

He knew he should resist toying with Callie; yet, he was drawn to her. And to add to his foolishness, he had, a few times, recognized her reciprocal response. How her big, brown eyes would glaze over with a soft dreaminess, or sparkle with a hint of desire she so obviously and desperately fought to resist.

He longed to ask what had happened to her. If he did, she’d rant and rave until the roof blew off, then throw him out on his rude and mettlesome ass. He wanted to help her. The next best thing would be to force her hand. She needed to deal with her haunts.

Hell, who was he kidding? He found himself wanting something from her that he had never in a hundred years thought he would feel again. He desired her friendship as a start, but if what had wormed its way into his blood, his mind, and had started to burrow its way into his heart was meant to be—he couldn’t afford to spook her. 

She tried so hard to act as if she was a cool cucumber when she was as skittish as a hen with a fox nippin’ at her tail feathers, ready to run as fast as she could or jump ten feet in the air.

The saloon door squeaked, and booted footfalls scuffed across planks to the bar. Without turning, he folded the newspaper and laid it across from him on the table. He heard a triple whiskey ordered, then steps draw near. Henry might be a good twenty years older than his thirty-two, but the man had the stamina of a young mule. 

“If yur done with that there paper, mister, might I take a gander at what’s happenin’ around here?” Henry’s voice brought music to his ears. If he carried good news, within the next two or three days, all hell would break loose. He was more than ready.