Double Chance Claim [Badlands 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (6 page)

“I know you do have at least one room for rent. Give it to her.”

Percy sniffed once and opened the ledger again. “That will be a dollar a day in advance, please.”

“Fifty cents,” the woman said. “And don’t give her the shitty storage room with the wobbly cot either. Let her have the room at the end of the hallway upstairs. It’s plain, but serviceable.” The woman winked at her and smiled.

Percy turned and reached for a key in the large, square rack of cubby holes behind him. He handed her a brass key attached to a palm-sized oval piece of brass with the number two one eight etched on both sides. “Here. You’d better not cause any trouble during your stay.”

“Unlike you, I know how to act politely.” Maggie crushed the cool, brass key in one hand as relief poured through her soul. One small victory was all it took to change the war, her father had been fond of saying. She finally understood the adage.

Percy huffed as if in disbelief. “Do you have any bags?” His scrutiny over her lack of luggage seemed to further dim his view of her.

“I don’t have them with me. They were at the church, but now a friend is holding them for me.”

If this brash woman hadn’t helped her, she might have had to beg another night at the saloon—and suffer the attentions of the delectable Wyatt’s duplicate. Not exactly a hardship, but if the town was already discussing her life, it wouldn’t be prudent to keep chancing them finding out she stayed alone with a man on her first night in town.

Percy put the guest book on the counter and pointed to an ink well. “Can you write your name, madam? If not just scratch an X on the bottom line.”

Maggie shot him a withering gaze at the slight, signed her name without comment, and turned to the older woman with flame-red hair, ignoring Percy and his vulgar attitude. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“You’re welcome, honey. Us independent women have to stick together.”

Maggie smiled with sincerity for the first time since entering the hotel. “Yes, I guess we do. I’m Maggie Altman.”

The woman thrust out her hand, grabbed Maggie’s, and shook it hard. “My name is Sadie Winters. Or at least that’s what people call me.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sadie.” Maggie resisted the urge to hug the woman in gratitude.

Sadie pointed to a door on the left. “Are you hungry? We could grab us a meal in the dining room.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Maggie’s few possessions were tucked away at the Double Chance Saloon down the street, but the idea of a meal outweighed the need to attain her things this minute.

They strolled into the dining room and got seated. Once their orders were taken, Sadie stood up and excused herself to take care of a necessity.

Maggie sipped her tea and contemplated the last couple of days— the endless wagon train journey concluding near the Badlands, Caleb’s death, the burial, Wyatt at midnight, and then his look-a-like before dawn.

After giving the two horses, wagon, and supplies to the church in exchange for burying Caleb, Maggie had very few dollars left. Sending the telegraph and return message slip to her parents, while necessary, had been very expensive. Until they responded, she only had enough money to last about a week in this town. If her parents didn’t send any money or a ticket home, she was stranded in Campbell’s Valley.

“I heard she didn’t even know how to cook anything at all, let alone roast anything over an open campfire. How can one hope to survive on a wagon train without the least notion of how to prepare a meal for her husband?” A titter of laughter followed from a table to Maggie’s left. The low tone of the speaker was still loud enough to carry across the room to her flaming ears.

“The poor man probably died of starvation,” said another in an even louder voice.

“And I understand he was a very attractive man,” came a third voice in a semi-hushed tone. “Could have had his choice of any woman instead of the lazy one he brought along on the journey.”

In that moment, Maggie knew these women were talking about her. All she heard the entire trip across country was “poor Caleb” and slurs against his inappropriate, unproductive wife. Little did they know that Caleb didn’t choose women. Ever. He preferred men. She was the exception in his life and only because he was her best friend with a heart the size of the sky. Caleb likely saved her from a life on the streets back in Philadelphia.

“Did you hear that she slept at the saloon on the same night that her husband died?”

Someone sucked in a shocked breath and added, “Scandalous!”

At first, Maggie wanted to hide under the table and promptly slink out of the room. Before she could make a move to leave the room, Sadie’s hand fell on her shoulder. “Don’t mind them, honey. They’re dried up old shrews with nothing better to do than bad mouth women who are prettier than they are.”

Sadie sneered at the trio, now wide-eyed with mouths hanging open, turned her back on them, and sat back down at their table. “Their husbands spend money on whores to satisfy them because it isn’t food that keeps a man at home. The way to a man’s heart rests directly in the wet space between a woman’s thighs.”

The three turned pale and only a vague hissing sound issued from their open mouths as righteous indignation framed their faces. They sputtered and rattled the china gracing their table before making a big show of leaving the dining room. They shuffled out, heads held high, muttering about crass manners and wicked women.

“How interesting.” Maggie knew Caleb would have probably liked Sadie and her forthright ways. “I didn’t know that about men’s hearts.”

Sadie laughed out loud, long and hard. The waiter returned with their food and Sadie told the waiter to put Maggie’s food on her tab.

Maggie shook her head. “No, I can’t let you do that. You’ve helped me so much already.”

“Don’t worry, honey. I have a business proposition for you. After we eat, let’s take a walk and discuss it.”

Maggie had no idea what sort of business she had in mind, but she nodded and ate her food with the gusto it deserved. The eggs were poached to perfection, the steak was delicious, and she relished each bite, grateful it wasn’t half-charred campfire fare.

After the meal, Maggie and Sadie strolled down the rough-hewn, covered wooden walkway toward the end of town and the saloon. Wyatt’s face came to the forefront of her mind with each step.

Sadie didn’t say anything for so long Maggie felt the need to start the conversation. “I don’t know anything about business.” She slowed her steps and turned to Sadie. “I’m not sure I’d be any help to you in that regard.”

“Well, I need your help with the saloon owner, Wyatt Chance.”

Maggie came to a dead stop on the walkway. “I don’t understand.”

“You see, I used to own that property where his saloon is now. I was the madam of the town’s only whorehouse before my thieving partner, Henry, absconded with all my money. I’ve had six months to generate some more capital and I’d like to partner with Mr. Chance. Up to now, he’s been very adamant about not going into business with me.”

“I’m still not sure how I can help you.” Maggie’s cheeks warmed as a vivid memory of Wyatt touching her sizzled in her mind.

 
“I believe you can persuade him.”

Maggie shook her head. “Why on earth would you believe
that
?”

Sadie laughed. “Everyone in town knows you spent the night with him, honey. You can’t tell me he didn’t avail himself of your charms.” Sadie’s gaze scrutinized her body from breasts to thighs. “You’d tempt a saint.”

Maggie’s mouth opened in shock but no sound came out. She swallowed hard and tried again. “He didn’t…I didn’t…nothing happened.”
Well, not much anyway.

“Don’t be such a prude. Besides, I’m not asking you to sleep with him again. He’d probably do anything for you after last night. And besides, I only want you to convince him to let me have the rooms upstairs to use for my girls.”

“Maybe he thinks your
business
will interfere with his saloon.”

 
“Pshaw. He can still do the same thing he always does downstairs in the bar. I know he isn’t renting those rooms out. It’s a waste not to use them. Tell him that I’ll cut him a large percentage of my profits and assure him that my girls will draw many more customers into his bar.”

 
“I appreciate your aid with the hotel clerk and the lovely meal, but I can’t help you.”
I won’t. Not after Wyatt gave me a place to sleep.

Maggie started to turn away, but Sadie grabbed her arm and leaned in close. The harsh gleam in her eye couldn’t be mistaken for anything but malice. “I believe you should reconsider. I wield more power in this town than most folks realize. I’d hate for you to have trouble here. You wouldn’t want the sheriff to run you out of town for vagrancy, would you?”

“Are you threatening me?” Maggie suddenly came to realize she had a poor record in understanding people’s motives, especially when they offered friendship. And tangling with the law was the last thing she needed.

Sadie replaced her nasty expression with a forced smile. “No. I’m just strongly suggesting that you help me.”

Chapter Six

Wyatt spent a surprisingly frustrated week away from the saloon. Usually, he preferred the quiet time away from town and being left to his own devices on the primitive land. He didn’t relish the backbreaking work of digging for gold, but it centered him. This week, however, he didn’t seem to have the patience for it. And even the lure of this rich vein of golden ore couldn’t distract him from Maggie Altman’s perfumed existence.

His mind resided back in Campbell’s Valley, and his imagination ran wild with visions of Wade with Maggie. His thoughts weren’t jealous in nature. He was more anxious. If push came to shove, he wouldn’t be opposed to sharing her between them. It wouldn’t have been the first time, although in the past, they’d known each of the women they’d shared would be temporary. Maggie was the first he wanted to have occupy a place in his life permanently.

Was that crazy?

His largest worry about Maggie was her location. Was she still in town? Had she gone to the hotel for a room? Had Wade offered to let her stay longer? Would she even still be in town when he returned after his week at the mine? And on and on, until he’d driven himself nearly mad with longing.

He mined about as much as Wade had the week before and therefore had tripled their already nice amount of raw gold ore. The vein was still producing as much as when he’d started Monday morning. Wyatt expected they’d spend a few more weeks before this vein gave out, and they’d be ready to sell all the raw ore, pocket a large amount of money, and head back East or wherever they decided to go.

Wyatt’s thoughts strayed back to Maggie again as he saddled Lucky and readied himself to return to the saloon later tonight. He planned to give himself enough time to question Wade about Maggie. His brother would likely laugh at him, but he didn’t care. If she was still in town, he planned to make himself available to her.

Did she need anyone to help her? Likely, she still mourned her husband, and he cooled his substantial ardor a notch. Their night together had been nothing more than his comforting a new friend when she felt all alone in the world. At least that’s what he convinced himself of all week. Now that some time had passed, perhaps she needed a friend again.

Unable to concentrate on anything else, Wyatt packed up Lucky and headed for the saloon a few hours early. Two hours later, he rode up behind the saloon ready to grab a few hours of sleep. First thing in the morning, he’d search the town for the woman who haunted his mind. In the small stable where they kept their horse, he unsaddled and quickly brushed Lucky down, settling him in for the night.

Wyatt entered the back entrance to the saloon, cleaned up in the mud room and headed for bed.

Inside his room, a surprise waited. His brother slept soundly in his bed. Wyatt checked the place where they left notes to each other. Nothing. He was early, but still Wade should have left a note of some sort. His brother rarely left notes though, or bothered to read any, so he shouldn’t be surprised. He lifted his eyes to the heavens and sighed until something important occurred. There was likely only one good reason for his brother to be sleeping downstairs.