Liberty Belle (16 page)

She eased onto the step and started to jump when Harley caught her around the waist and swung her to the ground. Her breath caught. While his touch sent off sparks of some sort, they were nothing like the ones she felt when Wade held her.

To her relief, Wade, Flora, and Mark came to her side.

Harley handed the satchels to Wade.

The gambler turned to her, bowed, and offered her his arm. “I’ll have the cook bring up some food to you as soon as you’re settled.”

Mark whooped. “I am powerful hungry. Thanks, Mr. Mason.”

“You’re welcome, young man. You and Wade go through the saloon. We’ll meet you upstairs at room 202. I’ll take the ladies up the outside steps so as not to offend their delicate natures.”

Wade muttered, but Libby couldn’t make out his words. He didn’t seem too pleased about the arrangement.

She managed to walk to the stairs, but her sore ankle gave out on the first step and hurled her into Harley’s waiting arms.

“I see your ankle’s still sore. Allow me to carry you.” Not waiting for her answer, Harley slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

Gasping at the indignity and the laughter from the sordid men standing outside the saloon, Libby pummeled his back with her fists.

He didn’t slow a step, and in minutes, Harley deposited her on the landing. “There you go, safe and sound. Sorry for the way I had to carry you, but it was the safest. I didn’t think it wise to have to stop and explain that to you.” He smirked and dug in his pocket.

“Here’s your key. The only one that will open this door and the one on the inside to the saloon.”

Her anger sputtered. “Well … I, never, hauled me like a bag of feed.” She slapped the man hard once, but he caught her second attempt, grasping her hand until she flinched.

“Don’t presume on my kindness. I don’t let anyone lay a hand on me. Man or woman.” Harley’s eyes glistened hard and cold in the dim light by the door.

Libby withdrew her hand, rubbed it, and nodded. She inserted the key and opened the door. The room was fairly large, although not nearly as nice as her bedroom at home.

A good-sized bed and dresser on one side and a sitting area with table and two chairs on the other. She groaned. The interior was decorated in shades of gold. A fitting end to the day. Leave one room of yellow, travel seven hundred miles, only to enter another room with squash-colored walls.

She limped inside, her altercation with Harley forgotten for the moment. She ran a finger along the glass lamp on the table.

Flora walked past her and set her reticule on the dresser. “Oh my. This is a nice room, Mr. Mason. I have a five-dollar gold piece that the outlaws didn’t take. Is that enough to pay for this room for a few more days?”

Harley stood outside, rubbing his face. The harshness in his eyes softened. “The room is yours as long as needed.”

Not ready to believe the gambler didn’t have any other motives, Libby glared at him. “And where is
your
room?”

A wolfish grin crooked his lips. “You’re standing in it.” Quickly he held up his hands. “That is until I gave it to you. I’ll be staying in my office, downstairs. Your brother and the boy will be right next door.”

As if on cue, a knock rattled on the saloon side door.

Flora unlocked it, and Wade and Mark entered.

Wade set the satchels on the dresser. “Nice room.”

Harley took off his hat and nodded at her. “I’ll send up some food for you. If you need anything, just let me know. Good night.” He turned and closed the door behind him, his steps making a hollow retreat.

###

Wade bristled at the sight of Harley. Even though the man had left, his influence remained. Libby appeared flustered. If he didn’t know better, Harley’s face had sported a handprint.

She didn’t offer an explanation, so Wade decided to let it go. No sense making trouble especially since he attracted it without trying. The gambler had given the women a nice room. Even more reason to keep a close watch.

“Everyone all right?” He stared at Libby.

She shrugged. “Fine. It’s a nice room. Soft bed, blankets. Sorry, I’m just tired.”

Wade wanted to stay and find out how she really felt, but Mark tugged on him.

“Mr. Wade, I am thirsty. Think we could get a sarsaparilla?”

Libby’s mouth set in a hard line.

“I don’t know if they have that here.” Wade saw the fire in her eyes and hoped to divert the youngster.

“They do. I saw a sign. I am awful thirsty.” The boy licked his lips.

“Let’s check out our room first. I see the key is in the lock.” Wade looked to Libby, hoping she wouldn’t be one of those temperance women. “You women going to be all right?”

Libby kept her stern gaze on him. “We will be fine. You see to it that Mark is, too.”

After ushering the boy into the hall, Wade turned. “Be sure and keep both those doors locked.”

Flora jumped and ran to the outside door and inserted the key. “Don’t you worry. We’ll keep the doors locked and my pistol loaded.”

Wade nodded and followed Mark. Not sure if Flora’s loaded gun gave him comfort or more cause to worry. Mark opened the door. Their room wasn’t as grand as Libby’s but quite respectable with a bed, nightstand, and wash basin.

“Okay, let’s go downstairs.” Mark headed for the stairs.

“Whoa, you’re a little too young to be in a saloon.”

“My pa took me once.”

Wade’s throat craved a beer. One time wouldn’t hurt. He clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Don’t tell the ladies.”

Mark smiled and licked his lips.

Downstairs, the saloon had a couple of gaming tables and a long polished bar. With his hands on Mark’s shoulders, he guided the boy to the end away from most of the patrons.

The barkeep came to him and eyed the boy. “We don’t serve kids here. What kind of father are you?”

“One with a kid who wants a glass of sarsaparilla.”

The man looked past Wade and nodded. “Why didn’t you say so? Can’t let a boy go thirsty. And you?”

Wade wanted a beer, but one look at Mark and he pointed at the boy. “I’ll have what he’s drinking.”

Mark grinned.

“I don’t suppose you were praying?”

The boy nodded.

“Thought so.”

He dug in his pocket for his last dollar and slapped it on the counter.

The barkeep gave them both their drinks and shoved the money back to him. “On the house.”

That warning itch on his neck told him he needed to look behind him. Wade turned to see Harley sitting at the poker table.

The gambler nodded.

Wade returned the gesture.

A glass shattered to the floor, and Wade spun around.

The man next to him, unshaven, dirty, and drunk glared. “You’re crowdin’ me.”

Thinking of Mark’s safety, Wade swallowed his pride and eased down the bar away from the drunk.

“Ya think ya can jist move and that pays for spillin’ my drink?” The man faced him, his hand hovering over his gun.

Wade shoved Mark behind him. “I don’t want any trouble. I’ll buy you another one.”

“I wanted the one ya spilt.” The drunk spat out the words. His hand hovering over his pistol.

His anger mounting, Wade dropped his hand toward his gun.

Quick and silent as a panther, Harley strode between them. “Now, now. I’ve got plenty of drink and plenty of glasses. What I won’t have is any gunplay in my saloon.”

The drunk sneered and turned his attention to Harley.

Like the strike of a snake, the gambler clubbed the drunk with his pistol, knocking the man to the ground.

The saloon went quiet.

Harley held up his gun. “This saloon is mine, and I won’t tolerate gunplay. But be assured, my aim is deadly.” He toed the downed man. “Throw him outside.”

A couple of men grabbed the troublemaker by his feet and dragged him out of the saloon. The piano player started up a perky tune. In minutes, the boisterous sounds of the rowdy patrons returned.

Harley put a hand on Wade’s shoulder. “I didn’t want the boy to see you gun down that drunk. Hope you don’t mind my, interference. … I could use a man like you. Too many hot-headed pistoleers in this town.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Right now I have other options.” The weight of the gambler’s hand sent a warning chill through him. Harley was not a man to tangle with. Not a man to be in debt to. Not a man Libby needed to be around.

Chapter 17

Nightmares of Harley breaking into the room kept Libby tossing and turning throughout the night. When she did open her eyes, it was to find Flora sitting at the small table in their room praying. In light of the circumstances, Libby considered summoning the Lord on a more regular basis might not be a bad idea.

Flora closed her prayer book and beamed. “Oh, Libby. I know this is where I am supposed to be. I feel almost as if my entire life was to prepare me for this place and time. Thank you, again, for letting me come with you.”

Pulling her head out of a storm clouds of doubt, Libby sent her aunt a weak grin. “I’m not sure I could have stopped you. I do hope you’re right though. I have to admit, I didn’t think making my way on my own would be this difficult.”

Flora’s chair scraped the floor. With concern lining her face, she plopped on the side of the bed and took hold of Libby’s hand. “I know how hard it is to be separated from your mother. I still miss mine, and she’s been gone for over twenty years. You’ve been such an example to me.”

“I don’t know how. I seem to flit from a strength I know must come from God and downright fear that is all mine.” Even the mention of fright sent panic and the dread of her unknown future crashing over her.

Her aunt placed a cold hand under Libby’s chin. “Be strong and courageous. I know the Lord has brought us here for a reason. He even provided Wade as a protector. And maybe more.” Flora grinned with a teasing smile and stepped away.

Heat crawled up Libby’s neck. Were her feelings that evident? If Flora could see her interest in Wade, could he? Could everybody? Clearing her throat, Libby rose and readied for the day.

Finished, she peeked out the window. The morning sun lit the mountains to the west, painting them gold against a backdrop of deep blue sky. Gazing at the raw beauty of God’s creation, her hopes raised a notch. Libby twisted a curl around a finger and let the curtains close. She turned toward Flora. “Do you think you’d care to go with me to see about the teaching position?”

Flora shoved her glasses higher on her nose. “Oh, yes. I think we would be wise to stay together.”

“Good. Shall we go?” Libby reached in her bag and found the advertisement. Soon, she could tell Harley she’d no longer need his saloon.

“Should we ask Wade to accompany us?” The serious tone of Flora’s voice signaled her aunt’s choice.

Already half-way to the outside door, Libby stopped. Her aunt was right. To go alone would be foolish. “He’s in the next room. Should I knock on his door? Is that proper?”

Libby put a hand to her head. Why is everything so complicated? If Thomas had shown up at the wedding, she’d be a married woman and going to all the gala balls in Atlanta. And that was such a short time ago. Now, she was going to knock on a man’s door, in a room, in a saloon.

“Oh my. Perhaps we should go together.”

“Yes, of course.” Libby tucked the ad in her reticule and saw Wade’s tin badge. Providence?

###

Wade groaned. The wooden floor in front of Libby’s room felt harder than any ground he’d slept on. He stretched and rose to his feet. Through the open door to his room, he could see Mark stirring.

The new day was beginning and with it came a long list of trials and unanswered questions. After gathering his bedding, he stopped when the door to Libby’s room opened.

Shock registered on the women’s faces.

“Morning, ladies.” Standing in his stocking feet, he wished he’d slept with his boots on.

Libby stepped forward and put a hand on the woolen blanket. “Did you sleep outside our door?”

He’d wanted to put the bedding away so they wouldn’t know. Didn’t want them to think he cared so much. Didn’t want to admit he did. Wade shrugged. “Thought it best.”

Flora swished past Libby and to the railing that overlooked the saloon below. “Oh my. I have never slept in a house of ill repute before. I guess morning is not a busy time for drunkards and gamblers.”

Wade wanted to move, but Libby’s gaze held him in place. The questions, pleas, even hopes evident in her jade-green eyes stormed the walls he’d erected around his heart. But the painful truth hammered him. He had nothing to give her.

Libby turned to Flora. “I am surprised the floor isn’t littered with those sleeping off the effects.”

“No one. Oh dear. That Harley Mason is coming up the stairs.” Flora backed from the railing and edged toward Libby.

Libby balled a delicate hand into a fist. “I had hoped we would be gone before—”

Harley rounded the corner, a smile on his face and a purpose in his step. A purpose Wade was not at all comfortable with, but one he was helpless to do anything about. Not until he could provide a better place for Libby.

“Miss Libby and Miss Flora, I do hope you are well rested.”

“Morning, Harley.” Wade asserted his presence. The gambler needed a reminder the ladies weren’t alone.

“Ah, yes, Wade and his son, Mark. And where is the little man?” Harley nodded toward Wade’s room. “Still sleeping off the effects of that sarsaparilla?”

Libby’s heel stuttered on the wooden floor. “You took the boy down there?”

Now he remembered why he’d wanted to leave early. “Just for one drink.”

“One drink can lead a man to a lifetime of drunkenness. That’s what my mother always said.” Libby’s lips enforced her words in a line of disappointment.

“I have to say, Wade had the same thing as the boy. Just one drink and they went to bed. Nothing for you to be ashamed of.” Harley smirked at Wade then turned to the women with a pleasant smile. “I came to offer you a good breakfast to start your day. On the house.”

Libby held her head high in a prideful way. “That’s kind of you, Mr. Mason. I will repay you as soon as I receive my first check.”