His mouth twisted, but he conquered his ire. “I understand, Theodosia.” Quickly, he dressed. “Now let me tellyousomething I hope you will understand,” he said, buckling his gunbelt around his hips. “Your plans are your own business. The only thing that concerns me is getting the rest of the money I need for my ranch.”
“I beg your pardon? But you already have the money to buy—”
“I don’t have any horses,” he snapped. “How can I call my ranch a horse ranch without horses? Pay me my salary when you’re supposed to, and I won’t care if youavail yourselfof the services of every male genius from here to China.”
He stormed out of the room, slammed the door behind him, and headed straight for the saloon.
He had whiskey for breakfast, more for his midday meal, and by the time he’d had his fill and left the saloon, Theodosia’s circulars fluttered from every post in Singing Creek.
Though the clusterof menoutside her door waited quietly, Theodosia had no intention of beginning the interviews until Roman returned.
How could he do this to her? she asked herself for the thousandth time since the candidates had begun to arrive. Had it escaped his memory that she’d hired him to be her bodyguard? And to think she’d paid him a hundred dollars in gold in advance!
She crossed to the window and peered down at the dusty street below but saw no sign of the irresponsible rake. Anger spread through her like slow-working poison.
A sudden pounding on the door nearly made her knees buckle. Deeply startled, she spun away from the window and clutched the bodice of her gown. “I have already announced that the interviews have not yet begun!” she shouted at whichever one of the candidates was banging on the door. “If you will only be patient for a few more—”
“It’s me! Open the damned door!”
At the sound of Roman’s deep voice, relief filled every part of her. She hurried to let him into the room.
As soon as she opened the door, one of the candidates shouldered his way through the group of other men. “We were here first! Why are you lettinghimin?”
Before Theodosia could answer, Roman snatched out his Colt and pressed the barrel between the man’s eyes. Slowly, as if enjoying every tense second, he pulled back the hammer. “I could see to it that youneverget in.”
Alarmed by the violence of Roman’s action and warning, Theodosia tried to understand what was the matter with him. True, he wasn’t above using force when he deemed it necessary, but threatening murder wasn’t like him at all. “Roman,” she said gently, placing her hand on his shoulder, “he only wants his turn, which is no reason to kill him.”
Roman lowered his gun and walked into the room.
As he passed her, Theodosia smelled whiskey. He reeked of it! Her anger returning with a vengeance, she watched him open John the Baptist’s cage and remove the parrot. He then sat on the bed, and the wall against his back, he settled her pet in his lap and began to stroke the bird’s head.
Theodosia longed to give him a piece of her mind. How dare he return inebriated! Oh, what she would tell him when she’d finished the interviews!
With a wave of her hand, she invited into the room the first applicant, a tall blue-eyed man with wavy black hair. “Please be seated, sir,” she said, indicating the two overstuffed chairs by the window.
As soon as the man sat down, Roman began a conversation with the parrot. “So, bird, what do you know?”
John the Baptist pecked at a button on Roman’s shirt. “Sir, you are seeing my legs.”
Roman glanced at the bird’s scrawny legs. “Yeah, and they’re sexy as hell.”
“Roman,” Theodosia bit out, “would you please—”
“Do you enjoy macerating, too, Mr. Montana?” John the Baptist asked, lifting his right wing.
Roman nodded. “Every chance I get. And no matter how often I do it, I never go blind or insane, and no hair has ever grown on the palm of my hand.”
Swallowing her fury, Theodosia sat down in the other chair and gave her full attention to the candidate. “May I know your name, sir?”
“Andrew Colby.”
“Well, Mr. Colby, I can see that you meet the physical requirements, so we shall advance to the intellectual—”
“You, Miss Worth, are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” John the Baptist declared, his voice screeching through the room. “While engaged in the kiss, the man must then begin to fondle the woman’s breasts.”
Roman pounded the bed with his fist and laughed uproariously.
Andrew’s mouth dropped open so wide, Theodosia heard his jaw pop. “Mr. Colby, please try to ignore the two irritants on the bed and reveal to me the extent of your academic background.”
