Only My Love (28 page)

"You were yesterday afternoon and again this morning. There were probably other times I didn't know about."

"Nothing around here escapes your notice, Dee."

The smile appeared again. It was a cool one. It did not reach Dee's eyes. "I'm not easily taken in by flattery." She sipped her tea. "Don't underestimate me, Michael. I may not have your education or your prim and proper manners, but what I want, I get, and what I get, I keep. If I were you I'd concentrate on holding onto Ethan instead of setting your cap for Houston. If you're not careful Carmen will have Ethan and you won't have anyone. Happy doesn't think much of you. Your life won't be worth a tinker's damn if Ethan leaves you again."

"I managed when he walked out the first time," Michael said, matching Dee's frosty tones. "I'll manage again. I'm not so convinced as you, Dee, that I need a man. Perhaps that's what Houston finds interesting."

"Challenging," she corrected.

Michael shrugged. "It doesn't matter. The truth is, I'm not chasing Houston. I'm not interested in him. I don't want anything from him. You can—"

"Even your freedom?"

"What?"

"Houston can give you your freedom. Doesn't that interest you?"

Michael sensed a trap. She refused to step in it. "I don't want anything from Houston," she repeated.

"That isn't what it looked like to me," Dee said. "Just above an hour ago you were kissing him in the middle of the street." She waited. Michael said nothing. "Do you deny it?"

"What would be the point? It happened. But he was kissing me. If you have a problem with that take it up with Houston." Michael took a drink of her tea then set the cup and saucer down. "If there's nothing else, Dee..."

"But there is. I want your promise that you'll stay away from Houston."

"As much as it's possible, you have it."

"You
make
it happen."

Michael stood up. "I'll be in the saloon if you need me," she said. She forced herself to exit slowly. Dee would be so satisfied to see her trembling.

* * *

Michael saw little of Ethan throughout the day. He didn't have to go to the mine but he did work for several hours at the widow's ranch. He was still gone at supper and his absence did not go unremarked by the others. It seemed everyone knew about the fight she and Ethan had had the evening before. Happy had been busy spreading the tale of her thwarted attempt to take Ethan's life, or at least his manhood. The story became more convoluted and more divorced from the truth each time it was repeated. Michael let everyone think what they would, neither denying nor confirming. Between performances that evening she sat at one of the tables with Ralph Hooper, Billy Saunders, and three more of their friends and tried to drink herself into a stupor.

Chapter 8

"Don't you think you'd better go up?" Ethan asked her, taking a seat at the table where Michael was holding court.

"Aw," Billy drawled, "Let 'er stay. Can't you see she's havin' a good time?"

"A good time," Michael repeated. She propped her chin on the back of her hand and smiled.

Ethan felt the full force of that smile. It had already enslaved every man at the table. "She can't even hold her head up."

"Sure I can." The words slid together. Michael giggled. "Sure—I—can," she enunciated clearly. She raised her head, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and straightened her shoulders. "See? I'm quite fine. Would anyone like another beer? I'll get a pitcher." Without waiting for a show of hands, Michael excused herself and wended her way to the bar.

"How long's she been drinking?" Ethan asked the men at large.

Ralph shrugged. "I suppose since the end of the first show. She hasn't had more than three beers."

"It doesn't take more than one for her."

"I saw her take a shot at the bar a while back," Billy said.

Both of Ethan's brows kicked up. "Oh, God," he groaned, rubbing his chin. "The head she's going to have."

Michael returned with the beer, poured drinks all around, and filled a new glass for Ethan. "Oh, stop looking so critical," she said. "I didn't spill a drop, did I?" She sat down. "It's your fault I'm like this anyway... your fault I'm here at all."

Ethan guessed what significance the others would put on her statement. He'd heard the story about their fight that was making the rounds. He also knew perfectly well that she wasn't referring to anything that had happened yesterday. One word about the robbery and he was going to have to do some incredibly fast talking. "Let's go on up, Michael." He reached for her hand.

Michael snatched her arm back. "I have another dance to do."

Ethan was losing patience but he was aware of the harm antagonizing her could do. "You can come back downstairs for it."

Michael was feeling belligerent. She turned to the others at the table to take up her cause. "You don't want me to leave, do ya, fellas? Weren't we just talkin' about our own poker game before Ethan got here?"

Billy looked uneasily at Ralph. Ralph traded looks with Jim and Jim with Calvin and Ben Tyler. "You know, Michael, seems like I'm plumb empty in the pockets," Billy said. "Wouldn't be much of a game with me in it."

"I'm not feelin' very lucky tonight," Jim said.

"Me neither," Ben chimed in.

"I'm tapped out, too," Calvin said.

"Can't have a game with jest the two of us," Ralph told her after everyone had backed down.

Michael fixed them each with an accusing stare. "Cowards," she muttered. "It's all right." To the amazement of everyone at the table she reached inside her bodice and pulled out a deck of cards. She fanned them expertly and began shuffling. "I know lots of ways to play solitaire."

Ethan felt every other man's eyes on him, waiting to see what he would do. Michael's steady defiance was eroding his patience and the respect he was afforded by others. "She has a mind of her own when she's sober, fellas," he said, shrugging off her actions. "When she's drunk she sits on it."

Laughter erupted around the table. Ethan grinned. Michael glared at him. "There's only one ass at this table," she said. "And if I were over there—" she pointed to Ethan's lap,
"—then
I'd be sitting on it."

Silence reigned for several seconds then Ethan began to laugh. "Come here, Michael, I'll see if I can't accommodate you."

"A pompous, braying ass," she told the others, ignoring Ethan's overture.

He jerked her chair close to his and lifted her easily onto his lap. She tried to wiggle off. Her movements merely made him hard. She quieted immediately. "That's better," he whispered against her ear. "Now deal the cards. We'll play one hand, then it's upstairs where you can sleep off that swollen head of yours."

"One han." It was difficult to give the hard consonants sound. "Han
-duh,"
she repeated. "An' if I win I stay an' I dance." She tossed him a saucy grin over her shoulder. "I'll dance for you, Ethan. Jus' for you."

Ethan wasn't certain he liked the sound of that. That saucy smile boded no good for anyone, especially not him. His blue-gray eyes took in the others in a single glance. What was the chance of her really winning the hand against all of them together? "All right," he said. "But I'm cutting the cards."

"Of course," she said off handedly. "No matter how dumb the dealer looks..."

"Always
cut the cards." The men finished for her in unison.

Michael bobbed her head twice in agreement. "Oooh," she said softly as the room spun a little. She held herself very still for a moment. Ethan's large hands were braced on her waist. Even through her tight corset she could feel his fingers as if they were on her skin. She began to deal the cards. "Five card stud," she said. "One up, four in the hole. Nothing wild. Highest card starts the bidding."

When the cards were out Ralph had the only face card showing. "It's up to you Ralph," Michael said. "C'mon, gentlemen, you'll have to dig a little in your pockets to stay in the game. I'm curious how empty they really are." Michael peeked at her cards, making sure to keep them out of Ethan's sight. She had a three of hearts up, another three, a king, and a pair of tens in the hole. Two pair. It wasn't a bad hand. It probably wouldn't win though. Ralph in particular was looking very full of himself. She wished she could see Ethan's face. It probably wouldn't help. He had the sort of face that gave little of what he was thinking or feeling away. "All right, gentlemen, name your pleasure. How many shall it be?"

"Two for me," Ralph said. Three of a kind in his hand, Michael thought.

"Three," said Ben. She thought he probably had a pair.

"Four," said Jim. Nothing in that hand, Michael decided. Yet.

"Two for me," Billy said. He looked as he if were hoping for a straight.

"I'll take one," said Calvin. Michael couldn't make him out. Probably a bluff, she thought.

"Dealer takes one," she said. She laid down the card but didn't look at it. "Ethan? How many?"

"Three." She snapped out three cards and prayed he came up short.

Everyone tossed more money into the kitty. "Well, Ralph," Michael said. "Let's see what you have. We've bought the right."

Ralph turned over his cards. "Three pretty ladies. Not as pretty as you."

"What a flatterer you are, Ralph," Michael teased. She felt Ethan's hand tighten on her waist. "Ben, what have you got?"

Ben just pushed his cards toward the middle of the table. "Nothing that beats that."

Jim sighed, tossing in his cards before Michael even asked for them.

Billy showed his pair of sixes.

"What about you Calvin?" asked Michael.

"Two pair."

"Too bad." Michael flipped over her cards and fanned them out. "I drew to a full house. Threes and tens." Behind her she was delighted to hear Ethan's low, disgruntled growl. She reached over her shoulder for his cards. He put them in her hand and she showed them to the others. "It looks as if he was going for a straight. What a pity, Ethan." She slid off his lap, bobbled on her feet a moment, and scooped up the winnings at the table. When she sat down it was on her own chair, not on Ethan's lap. Looking hopefully around the table she asked, "Another game, fellas? No? Oh, well." She shrugged, gathering up the cards. She leaned toward Ethan and put the straightened deck in the breast pocket of his shirt. She patted it lightly. "You keep those safe for me, will you? They're my lucky cards."

"Since when?"

"Since I just won with them." There was a little beer left in the pitcher. As she topped off Ralph's glass she noticed Billy was rolling himself a cigarette. "Could I have that one, Billy?" she asked. "And you roll yourself another?"

Billy started to push it across the table toward her when his wrist was clamped hard by Ethan. He glanced up uneasily at the younger, stronger man.

"She doesn't smoke," Ethan said.

"I most certainly do," Michael said. "Just pass it here, Billy. Ethan won't break your wrist."

Ethan sat back in his chair and glared at Michael. "I just may break your neck."

Billy started to withdraw the cigarette but Michael managed to snatch it from under his fingers. "Does anyone have a light for it?" she asked, holding it out between her index and middle fingers. A shred of tobacco fell out on the table and Michael picked it up and stuffed inside again. "You roll yours a little loose, Billy." She glanced around the table. "Well? How about that match?"

None of the men offered one. Ethan's look assured them they would be sorry if they did.

"You'd think you'd never seen a woman smoke before," Michael said, disgusted with them all. "Worse, you think a woman has no right." She dropped the cigarette down her bodice and wrinkled her nose at Ethan. "I'll simply save it."

"Perhaps you
should
have another drink," Ethan said, pushing his glass of beer at her. "One more might put you under the table."

Michael shook her head, smiling sweetly and insincerely. She felt the room spin again but refused to give in to it. Over the general noise of the saloon she yelled to Lottie who was talking to admirers by the piano. "Play something slow and sweet, Lottie! I'm going to dance for Ethan!" Michael's chair scraped against the floor as she pushed it back and came to her feet. Bracing her arms stiffly on the table a moment for balance, she bid them all good evening. She didn't notice the saloon had become very quiet, nor that focus of every man's eyes was on her. Michael only heard the first strains of the lilting ballad and felt only Ethan's stare.