Liberty Belle (20 page)

Mark grinned. “We got us a lot for a five dollar gold piece. Flora said we’d paint the sign today.”

Wade took the bundles from the small woman. “You must have bought out the store.”

“Oh my. I did well and even have my first two customers. They paid in advance, so I bought the material for three shirts and more supplies.” She tittered her girlish laugh and blushed. “I believe I have enough left to buy us all lunch.”

He helped Flora onto the back of the wagon. Mark jumped in after her, dug in a bag, and pulled out a piece of candy.

Wade climbed into the seat next to Libby. “We’ll check on the horse and if the animal survived, go on to Sweeny’s livery. That is if you don’t mind?”

Libby twisted her handkerchief, and scooted away from him. Sitting ramrod straight, she kept her gaze forward. “Fine with me, although I am hungry. Do you suppose we could have lunch first? Maybe Harley has some food we can buy?”

Hearing the gambler’s name tore at the warmth in his heart. Did Libby have feelings for him or that slick card shark? “I’d like to take care of the stallion first.”

She sighed and crossed her arms.

Wade flicked the reins and guided the wagon toward the Elephant Corral. The day with Libby had chilled as sure as if a blustery storm had blown in. What had he done to rile her now?

She turned and asked Flora about her purchases. Clearly, she was avoiding him.
Women
. His father had told him they made no sense and to not even try to figure them out.

“Mr. Wade, I hope the horse isn’t mad. He scared me.” Mark’s small voice reminded Wade the boy was barely ten.

“You let me worry about him. If he’s too wild, I’ll take you and the ladies to the saloon first.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Libby fix her gaze upon him.

She eased a little closer. “I love horses. I had a beautiful mare, Southern Star. She was stolen during the stage holdup. Perhaps I can help you train this wild beast.”

Before he could think, Wade snorted.

Eyes blazing, Libby huffed, and moved from him.

He groaned. “Sorry, I’m sure you can help, some.”

She faced him, her green embers smoldering. “Like carry oats and water? No thank you. After I’m established, I’ll buy my own horse. I am an accomplished horsewoman.” Libby folded her arms. “I think it best to take us to Harley’s. I am sure Mark is hungry.”

Wade wondered which would be easier to deal with—a groggy, wild stallion or an angered woman. After a quick glance at Libby’s face, he flicked the reins, turned toward Fifth Street, and headed to Harley’s Yellow Slipper. “You’re right. Mark’s a growing boy.”

He drove the remaining blocks in silence. Finally, he stopped in front of the stairs to Libby’s room. “Mark, you help Flora with her sign, and I’ll go check on Fire.”

“Fire?” All of a sudden, Libby’s mood perked up.

“The horse’s name is Fire. He’s a bright red sorrel.” He jumped down and walked around the wagon to help her. She was soft again with mooning eyes and sweet smile.

“Thank you, Wade. I’m sorry for being abrupt. Why don’t you come in and eat with us?” She placed a hand on his forearm.

Her touch and warmth branded him. She’d tamed him quick enough, maybe she
should
help train the horse. Without another word, Wade escorted her up the stairs.

###

Libby stopped Wade at the entrance to her room. “I can’t let you in here. It would not be proper. Go see if Harley will send us some food.” She pushed the door until only a few inches remained open. “You’ll have to go down the stairs and enter through the saloon.”

Wade’s shoulders slumped and a frown tugged his lips. “I guess you’re right. I’ll go ask our friendly gambler.”

He looked like a sad puppy. Her resolve faltered. Libby wanted nothing more than to let him in, but she needed to protect her honor. She gave him a quick smile and closed the door.

Worry etched on Mark’s brow as he put down the package. “Miss Libby, do I need to leave, too?”

“Oh no, Mark.” Flora gathered the boy to her. “I need your help.”

“But Miss Libby said it wasn’t proper for a man to be in your room.”

Libby knelt before him and held his hands. “You are a fine young gentleman, but it’s different when you’re only ten.”

Mark gazed at her with innocence. “Why?”

She gave him a hug and rose. “In a few years, you will know. You’ll just have to trust us on this.”

Flora opened her packages and spread the contents on the bed. “I’m so excited.” She picked up a smooth board and black paint. “Here you go, Mark. Now all we need is a name for my business.”

The boy grinned. “How about, Miss Flora’s Sewing Establishment?”

Libby gazed at the sign. “I think you will need a shorter name or longer board.”

Rubbing her slim fingers over the wood, Flora’s face took on a dreamy look. “I’ve always wanted to sew for others. I would see it in my mind,
Needle and Thread
.”

“I like it.” Libby stroked a bundle of cloth and admired her aunt’s choice of colors. She gazed at the clock on the dresser and wondered what had become of Wade. A knock startled her. She went to answer, but Mark beat her to it.

Harley held out a tray. “I heard there were hungry people in here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Harley.” Mark eagerly took the tray from him and set it on the table.

The gambler stepped inside.

Mark ran to him and put a hand on the man’s chest. “No, Mr. Harley. You’re too old to come into Miss Libby’s room.”

“What?”

Libby wanted to laugh until she saw Harley’s hardened face. “I explained to Mark that a lady doesn’t entertain a man in her room. At least not one older than ten.”

“I see. Well, you’re right.” Harley slipped on his easy grin and leaned against the doorjamb.

Even though he stayed out, his presence stole inside. Libby tried to ignore him by taking Flora’s supplies to the desk, but when she set the table, she discovered four sandwiches. Apparently, Harley planned to join them.

The gambler gripped Mark’s shoulder and stepped inside. He released the boy and stood beside her. “Your
brother
said he was going to check on his horse. I hadn’t eaten yet and thought it might be nice to join you.”

“Oh my. You’ve been so kind to us, Mr. Mason. I think in this instance, since this is your room, it would be all right for an
older
man to come in. And I have the funds to pay for the lunch.”

He held up his hands. “No, lunch is on the house.”

Flora cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask if I may hang a sign outside our stairs to let people know about my business.”

Harley stood at the table, his brow wrinkled. “Business?”

“I’m a seamstress. I’d be happy to mend your clothes for free since you’ve been so kind to let us stay the night and give us food.” Flora clasped her hands and blushed.

Harley gave an amused grin. “Good idea. There’s definitely a need for your talents, Miss Flora. I have some work for you, and I’d be happy to pay.”

Libby sat in the chair between Flora and Mark.

Harley grimaced at the boy and then chose the seat opposite her.

Picking at the bread, Libby tried to avoid his gaze, but Harley’s persistence won out and she glanced at him.

He locked his gaze on her. “And you, my dear. How did your teaching position turn out?”

She tried to ignore him by looking at the boy. “Mark, you can eat now.” But Harley’s question, gaze, and attention hung in the air, forcing her to give account. With a sigh, she stared at him and squared her shoulders. She may be in need, but she didn’t have to act poor. “The job was already taken. I am seeking other employment.”

Mark didn’t touch his food but instead folded his hands. “Miss Libby, we need to give thanks.”

She set her sandwich back on her plate and hoped the nibble she’d taken wasn’t too noticeable. Was that boy really only ten? “Thank you, Mark. Why don’t you bless the food?”

Mark bowed his head.

Libby lowered hers but kept her eyes open a slit to watch Harley. He frowned but did bow his head.

“Dear Lord, bless this food and Mr. Harley for bringing it to us. Thank you for watching out for us. Protect Mr. Wade from that wild horse. Amen.”

Flora rubbed Mark’s back. “Oh, what a beautiful prayer. I’m sure the Lord will watch out for Wade.”

Harley squirmed in his seat as if he were a little boy caught pulling a girl’s hair in church.

Libby enjoyed the fact that he was uncomfortable. No doubt the price for a life of sin. Silence settled over them.

A smug smile signaled the gambler’s recovery from any embarrassment or penance the prayer may have had on him. “I was wondering, Miss Libby, if you would like to see Denver and Auraria. I can take the afternoon off. Flora and Mark look like they’ll be busy. And your
brother
will be tied up with his horse.”

She cringed at the way he said brother as if he hated Wade. Libby kept her head down and took another bite to give her time to think.

Harley pointed at the window. “It’s a nice day, and I’d like to show you there are civilized parts to the city.” His soothing voice enticed her.

Libby let the quiet be her answer. She no more wanted to be alone with him than to live the rest of her life in her mother’s yellow room.

He sighed. “Flora and Mark are welcome to come along, too.”

Perhaps the man was only trying to be nice. Libby glanced at her aunt.

Flora’s eyes sparkled, and she gave a slight nod.

Libby did want to see the city. “I think that would be enjoyable, and I might find an establishment needing help. Let us finish eating and then give us time for a short rest.”

Harley gave her an almost pleasant smile. “Good. I’ll get the buggy and knock on your door in an hour.”

“We’ll be ready.” Libby ate the rest of her lunch, although at the idea of enduring a day with the gambler, her appetite had disappeared.

###

Wade stomped out of the saloon. That snake was up to no good. The sooner Libby got away from him the better. Harley had been all too happy to provide lunch for the ladies and Mark, but the gambler had told Wade no man worth his salt accepted charity.

His stomach soured as he bit back the desire to slug the man, but the worst part was Harley was right. No man begged for food. No real man asked another to tend to the needs of the woman he cared for either. Yet, that was just what Wade had done.

He set out to walk to the Elephant Corral. The exercise and clean fresh air would do him good. Hopefully clear his mind which had become muddled since being alone with Libby.

The dirt streets kindled memories of when he was sheriff. Even though a small town, Redbud had had its share of trouble, but he’d been able to keep the peace until the raid on the farm cost him his family.

He rested his hand on the gun he wore at his side. Never again would he let his guard down. His thoughts drifted to Libby. He’d left her and Mark with the gambler.
What if?

Wade stopped and peered back over the way he’d come. No, whatever Harley was, he wasn’t a cold-hearted killer. That much Wade sensed. A quick glance at the heavens and Wade shrugged. Whatever the
good
Lord wanted him to do he must have failed. Otherwise, why would his family have been taken from him in such a harsh way? God was a million miles away and surely didn’t see fit to care where he was concerned.

Like warm feathers, a breeze danced about him. So odd that he looked around to see if anyone else felt the sensation. The leaves on a nearby tree didn’t move. No one else seemed to notice.

Mark and his praying?

The boy owned every right to be angry, but instead, he greeted each day with a joy and enthusiasm that made Wade envy him. How did Mark move past his loss and go on? And why did he, a grown man, have so much trouble trying to put his life back together?”

The noise of livestock warned him he’d arrived at the Elephant Corral. Wade wasn’t sure he should hope the horse lived or died. He didn’t want to bring any harm to Mark. Or Libby. He snickered at the thought she could help. A southern belle training a wild horse? That would be the day. More than likely, her hands had never been bothered by dirt or hard work.

Wade strode through the entrance. Most of the morning crowd had cleared, but a small group of men stood around a corral in the corner. Wade walked toward them wondering what awaited him when a bucket flew into the air followed by the sound of pounding hooves.

Chapter 21

Libby felt as if she’d just sat on the couch to rest when a steady rap on the outside door startled her.
Harley.
Why did she agree to let him drive them around?

“Oh my. Libby, I think Mr. Mason is here.”

“I fear you are right. Give me a minute and then you can open the door.”

Flora took her reticule from the dresser and gave a sly grin. “Don’t worry. I have a plan for our little excursion.”

After brushing wrinkles from her dress, Libby grabbed her hat and wondered about her aunt’s surprise.

Flora opened the door. Not waiting for permission, the gambler walked in like he owned the place, which he did, and somewhat like he owned them, which he certainly did not.

Standing as straight and tall as her five-foot frame allowed, Libby strode past the arrogant beast and onto the stairway porch. She looked back and motioned. “Ready, Flora? I’m eager to see the city.”

Ushering Mark in front of her, Flora turned from Harley and grinned.

Libby suppressed the wry smile that pleaded to be released, but she thought it not wise to give him any reason to be wary. Her aunt was up to something, and she wasn’t sure how he’d react.

Her heart light, Libby trotted down the stairs. After a brief rest at street level, she again had to fight a laugh. Flora and Mark were taking their time while keeping Harley behind them.

A chuckle escaped her as she climbed into the backseat of the buggy. He wasn’t going to force her to sit beside him this time.

With a snicker, Flora bounced into the carriage next to Libby. “What a nice buggy. Mark, you sit in the front and show Mr. Mason how well you can drive.”