Seduced By A Wrangler (Emerald Falls Book 2) Page 2

  At least not in that way.

  She’d done her best for a while, but old habits die hard.

  Finding out she had nothing else to offer was a difficult blow. But she’d do anything to keep her nose clean so she could stay with her new family and friends. It was the first safe home she’d ever had.

  She met Ace’s eyes with her head held high, pushing down the screaming anxiety that he would turn her out.

  She hadn’t meant to cause the fight. She’d just been doing her normal routine, after all.

  After a moment of silence, Ace took a few steps toward her, slid an arm around her shoulders, and gave her a pat.

  “We should talk,” he said in his deep, powerful voice. “Meet me in my tent.”

  Then he was gone, striding through the tents toward his in the back, and Ginny watched him with a growing fear. Her last day had come. Ace was going to turn her out.

  Chapter 2

  Ginny slipped inside the flap of Ace's fur-lined tent. Warm orange light from a lantern in the corner shone across all four walls. The wide spread of a pair of bison horns hung on the wall across from his sturdy cot, draped with cow hides and a thick bear fur blanket.

  Ace stood in the corner next to the lantern, pouring dark whiskey into two glasses.

  “That was quite a ruckus out there,” he said as he recorked his bottle.

  “Tell me about it.” She rolled her eyes. “Tom can be such an asshole.”

  Ace lifted his chin with only the smallest grunt of agreeance as he held a glass out to her. She lifted a palm to stop him.

  “Thank you, but I can’t drink that stuff.”

  He tilted his head with a perk of his brow. “Really?”

  She dropped her eyes to her shifting feet. “That hard stuff kicks too hard. I prefer beer.”

  Ace shrugged a shoulder and took a long pull off one of the glances. He winced a little as it went down, then sat on the edge of his bed and motioned to the space next to him.

  “Have a seat, Ginny.”

  Oh man, this was it.

  She wrung her hands together in front of her as she edged over to the cot and sat down.

  Ace swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching it intently before he glanced over at her.

  “I know Tom can be rough around the edges,” he said, “but he works hard around here. He does more than his fair share to make sure everyone is fed and taken care of in the family.”

  Ginny gave a stiff nod, worried that she’d called Tom out. Maybe she was the only one who thought he was a pig. It was a gang of outlaws after all. They weren’t all shining angels.

  But Tom was the worst of them.

  She pressed her lips together to be sure she wouldn’t say that out loud.

  “Things are usually pretty peaceful around here,” Ace continued. “An occasional scuffle, of course, be we all have to live together. Watch out for each other, and protect one another. My boys typically don’t get in fist fights like that. As a matter of face, it’s against my rules.”

  An uncomfortable itch spread through Ginny’s body and down her arms. She crossed and uncrossed them, trying to find some relief from Ace’s hard eyes.

  He had rules? They must only be for the men, because she hadn’t been given the rundown, except for—

  “Now, you know there’s no prostituting in my camp.”

  Her throat closed, and a new wave of sweat broke out along her hairline.

  “I don’t! I just spend a little time with the boys, when we’re lonely. I don’t charge anyone anything or nothin’.”

  Ace knocked back the rest of the whiskey in his glass. Then he cleared his throat and shook his head. “I believe you, Ginny, but you’re riling these boys up. You need to find something else to do to make yourself useful. Not just for us, but for yourself.” The discomfort eased from his eyes, and they pinned her again. “There’s no need to be spending the night with these men left and right anymore. You have your own bed, food, clothes. You don’t owe them anything.”

  Tears pinched the edges of her eyes, and she fought back the knot in her throat. “I know,” she whispered.

  “Do you? You’re not in that painted ladies house anymore. There’s no need for all that. Besides, you’ve got these men sniffing around you like a bunch of dogs on the prowl. Spend your time doing something else. I hear you helped with dinner tonight. That’s progress.”

  The tears threatened more. “It was awful.”

  Ace tilted his head with pursed lips. “I’m sure Bridget could use help with the horses, or you could learn to hunt. Clay would take you out. It doesn’t matter what you do, Ginny. Just find something that doesn’t involve your body.”

  She jerked a bit when his hand fell over her shoulders and squeezed her arm.

  “You deserve better than what you’re giving yourself. And I’m tired of telling these fellas to leave you alone.”

  He gave her a wink, and she forced a smile. As gentle as his touch was and as friendly his face, a ball of mortification rolled in her stomach, threatening to heave right up her throat. She just wanted to get away.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He nodded, removing himself from her stiff shoulders.

  “Now go have a drink. Relax.” He grinned.

  She hopped up from the cot and scurried to the door. Halfway there, however, her shoulders slumped as a previous conversation came leaping back to her.

  The beer was gone.

  If Jack couldn’t find any, there truly was no beer in camp.

  Ace must have noticed her falling posture because he called after her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She half-turned, the heat from her embarrassment still in her cheeks. “We’re out of beer.”

  Ace's mouth turned up in one corner, and he lifted a shoulder. "Run up to town and get you one. They don't know you."

  He dug in his pocket, pulled out a couple dollars, and held them out to her.

  At first, she froze, staring at them. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know Ace was the one with the money around there, making sure the family was taken care of, but he’d never given her any. She was more than thankful just to eat and have somewhere to sleep. Accepting the cash felt wrong.

  When she didn’t move to take it, Ace gave the bills a shake. “Take it. You’ve had a rough evening. Besides, my boys need a break too. They need sleep.”

  His words did little to help the burn in her face, but she nodded just the same and accepted the money with a nod of thanks.

  Ace sat back and lifted the second glass of whiskey to her with a grin. “Enjoy.”

  As he set to work on his drink, she hurried out of the tent and back toward the fire pit.

  It was the center of the camp and where most of the group gathered. Exactly where she belonged.

  Except not that night.

  She’d stop in to let Clara know where she was going and ride into town. Emerald Falls was only a couple miles away from camp, and she really could go for a drink.

  The sun had set, and the long shadows turned to chilly darkness. Ginny strode into the firelight where a few of the gang still sat, leaning into one another and talking.

  Clara smiled at her when she returned.

  “There you are. I thought you forgot all about dinner.”

  Ginny shoved the itchy bout of embarrassment from earlier deep down inside her chest, as she was accustomed to, and plastered a big grin on her face.

  “Forgot? Of course not,” she giggled. “Although I have a hankering for a beer.”

  Clay looked up from where he and Sadie still sat huddled next to one another. “We ran out of that late last night, I believe. Sorry.”

  She feigned a huff of disappointment as if she hadn't known prior. "Well, that stinks. But I'm really up for one tonight. I think I'll go into town."

  Clara and the others exchanged a quick look before the blonde frowned a little. “All the way into town for a beer?”

  Ginny propped her hand on her jutt
ing hip. “I just had two men fist fight over me. I think I’d like one.”

  Clara lifted her hands as she snickered. "Fair enough. I think I heard Jeremiah talking about going in for something. See if he'll go with you."

  Ginny looked across the fire circle to find Jeremiah sitting on a hay bale, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. His skin was so dark it was difficult to make him out, but the firelight caught his eyes a time or two.

  While she was looking forward to getting away from the men at camp for a while, Jeremiah was quiet. He didn’t often have much to say, especially to the women. It was likely he wouldn’t bother her much.

  “You don’t think he’d mind?” she asked.

  “Not Jeremiah,” Clara laughed. “He’d chase you down before he let you go by yourself.”

  * * *

  Emerald Falls was a small cattle town in the shadow of the Absaroka Mountain range. Once the sun went down, things got pretty quiet, but even after hours, the Emerald Falls Saloon was a lively place.

  Ginny hitched her spotted appaloosa gelding next to Jeremiah’s horse and gazed up through the bright picture window at the front of the saloon. Shouts and laughter above a bouncing piano tune drifted out into the street. Two men stood talking close enough to the window for her to see from the ground. One held a fat cigar that swirled rings of smoke over his head.

  “Hollar if you need me.” Jeremiah’s baritone voice cut through the darkness next to her.

  “I’ve been around rowdy men before,” she chuckled. “Not a one of them scare me. I’ll bet I’ve seen or dealt with worse than any one of them can deal, not to mention—”

  The light through the window flickered in Jeremiah’s dark eyes, and the solid gaze shut her up. He tilted his head just so, his tense silence loud enough to drown her words, and she nodded.

  “I’ll call if I need you.”

  He gave a firm nod and stepped up onto the boardwalk that stretched along the front of the buildings. She followed him without another word through the swinging batwing doors.

  The music and voices increased immensely when she stepped inside, and she peered around Jeremiah’s wide frame to check out all the commotion.

  The saloon itself was in good shape, faded paint on the walls, sturdy columns in the middle of the wide room to accommodate the second floor above, and large paintings hanging along any wall not containing a window. A piano played by an energetic older man bouncing on the keys stood against the wall opposite the bar, and a few tables with chairs dotted the floor. The one closest to the front window had drawn a crowd around what sounded like a game of poker.

  Men lingered here and there around the room, some speaking and laughing with one another, some hovering next to ladies sporting lacy dresses that pushed their bosoms up and out and showed far too much leg.

  Things Ginny used to wear, including those fake smiles and batting eyelashes.

  Thank goodness those days were behind her.

  She'd take the thin, dull lavender dress she wore over all that mess any day.

  Those fancy clothes came at a high price.

  As she made her way further into the saloon, a cloud of smoke hit her and she coughed into her elbow. Her eyes burned, and she struggled to get past a pair of smokers and over to the bar.

  The smell of tobacco and sweat was strong, and she pressed the back of her wrist beneath her nose. Just as she reached the bar, however, something else hit her. Something much more pleasant. She dropped her arm and drew in a deep breath, casting her eyes side to side. She started when the man she’d just past looked up from his drink.

  His faded brown wide-brimmed hat lifted, and his light eyes met hers.

  For a moment her breath was gone. His soft blue eyes were shadowed by his hat, but she didn’t miss them twitch left and right, as if unsure where to settle. His jaw was firm, smooth but for a whisper of dark hair on his chin, and his lips looked soft and inviting. He had to be one of the best looking cowboys she’d run into in a bar.

  The thought sent a roll of butterflies through her stomach.

  But why was he looking at her like that?

  Had he heard her sniff him?

  A tickle of warmth spread into her cheeks, and she chuckled aloud to herself as she perched against the bar a few feet away from him. She didn’t make a habit of smelling men, but she thought about walking by him twice.

  She tilted her chin in his direction.

  “Hey.”

  His eyes moved again, creasing a little at the edges when they settled on her, then he tilted his chin up. “Hey.”

  His voice was deep and rolled like a well-oiled wagon wheel.

  She smiled at him. “What you drinking?”

  He peered down at the clearly labeled bottle of beer in his hand. “Carters Beer.”

  One of her eyebrows perked as she leaned further into the bar. “Sounds good. Hey, I’ll have one of those.” Her voice lifted as she snagged the bartender.

  A man in faded overalls glanced between her and the cowboy and turned to fetch the drink. He pulled a bottle free, popped the lid, and slid it across the bar to Ginny.

  She caught it in her open palm and lifted it toward the cowboy in a toast-like manner. “A fresh one. Perfect.”

  His eyebrows went up a fraction, but he offered no other friendly signs.

  What a stick in the mud, she thought as she lifted the beer to her lips. It wasn’t as smooth as she’d hoped, but it was way better than whiskey.

  When she lowered the bottle to the bartop again, she tried to keep her eyes on the stacks of bottles behind the bartender. Mostly whiskeys, a few bourbons and gins. A bowl of apples and almonds.

  Over her shoulder men milled about the saloon. Three in a nearby corner guffawed so loud her insides clenched. Her eyes lingered on them, curious as to what had caused the outburst, but they returned to a normal level of speaking that she couldn’t catch.

  Nothing caught her eye like the cowboy at the bar. He was beautiful.

  And she’d seen her fair share of men.

  Even if he didn’t seem up for conversation at the moment, she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes and energy were drawn to him. Another few words wouldn’t hurt.

  She leaned toward him again, a growing smile on her face. “You from around here, or you just—”

  Two boisterous men in wide hats pushed their way up to the bar, nearly knocking her to the side and cutting off her communication to the cowboy. She stared with wide-eyes, unsure whether to be relieved that she hadn’t been trampled or irked that they’d ruined her one-sided conversation.

  She tilted her head, peering through the loud strangers to find that the cowboy’s head was lifted again, and he was looking at her. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, and she grinned.

  While the bartender brought the strangers their drinks, she sipped on hers. When they stepped away, she slid down the length of the bar to stand next to the cowboy. Before she could finish her question, he spoke.

  “I’m just passing through.”

  She nodded, a small pang of disappointment settling in her chest, but smiled just the same. “Good place to stop in for a drink.”

  The tip of his hat jerked as he nodded. “Yeah. Nice town. You live here?”

  She shook her head, letting the mischievous tickle within her seep into her eyes. “I’m just passing through.”

  He cracked a grin, and her heart fluttered.

  The rim of his bottle connected with his lips, and he tilted his head back to let the rest of his beer roll down his throat. She couldn’t help but stare at the strong muscles in his neck as he did so. She continued to gaze at him as she took another long pull herself.

  When his eyes met hers again, they were a little more clouded but certainly had a twinkle in them.

  Ginny’s body warmed beneath the surface. A spark of excitement flashed in her stomach. Her fingers tingled, and the toe of her boot tapped along with the piano tune.

  “There is one thing I do like about Emerald Fall
s though,” she said.

  He perked an eyebrow, the edge of his mouth twitching upward.

  “They have some damn good music.” She set her bottle down and pushed off the bar. He blinked in surprise as she sidled up closer to him and offered him a hand. “Dance with me, cowboy.”

  He hesitated, glancing out to the open space in the middle of the floor where only one other couple was spinning around. His lips pressed together, a small shake in his head.

  “I don’t really—”

  She grabbed his hand resting on the bar and tugged at him.

  “Oh, come on. It’s fun!”

  Chapter 3

  Despite the unsure look on his face, the cowboy allowed Ginny to pull him out onto the dance floor.

  She was surprised to find that he was much taller than her when he wasn't slumped against the bar, maybe an entire foot, and she had to lean her head back to see him. She fit her hand into his and squeezed his shoulder as they faced one another.

  His free hand hovered near her body as he gave her a look over, his lips pursed and eyes searching.

  She gave a hearty laugh as she snagged his fingers and pressed them to her waist.

  “I won’t bite you or nothin’. Can’t you dance?”

  His eyes darkened as he cleared his throat. “It’s been a long time.”

  Despite the edge in his gaze, his smoldering look set her breath tripping, and she couldn’t help the intrigued bounce in her eyebrows.

  “Well, here’s a refresher for you,” she said, pressing his hand in tighter to her waist before her grip slid back up to his shoulder.

  Then she set them off, moving to the music.

  The piano notes bounced, and they swayed along with them. The cowboy’s body was stiff under her hands, but he could keep up. She grinned at him and the way his eyes drifted down to their feet more than they were on her.

  Her mother had taught her to dance as a girl, but it wasn’t something she practiced often. Dancing wasn’t typically what men came to the brothel for.