“Roman, I am returning to the hotel now. You may stay out here and enjoy the rest of your meal at your leisure, or you may come with me and perform your job as my protector. The choice is yours.”
Some choice, he thought.
Grumbling every step of the way, he escorted her back to town.
“All you haveto dois look into that man’s eyes to know he’s not the right man to father the baby, Theodosia,” Roman whispered into her ear. Sitting in a chair directly behind hers, he had a clear view of each man she interviewed and an objection to all of them.
Theodosia lifted a sheet of paper in front of her face so the candidate sitting across from her could not read her lips. “You didn’t like the first man’s weak chin, Roman,” she whispered in reply to his comment. “You said the second man’s pale complexion indicated poor blood that would certainly be passed on to the baby. The third man had a limp that you claimed would inhibit his coital abilities. Now, what in heaven’s name is wrong withthisman’s eyes?”
“They’re messed up. Look close, and you’ll see for yourself. His problem isn’t real bad yet, but I’ve seen this before, Theodosia, and I can tell you that in a few years this poor guy will be completely walleyed.”
Theodosia lowered the paper and gave the candidate a smile while searching the depths of his eyes. She saw nothing about them that suggested any sort of disorder.
But Roman’s suspicions twisted through her mind like an impenetrable mass of vines. “I am sorry, sir,” she said to the man, “but you do not meet the requirements. I do thank you, however, for your interest. Good evening.”
Frowning, the man stayed seated. “What’s wrong with me? I’m tall, my eyes are blue, and I have black hair.”
Roman bolted out of his chair. “And I have two Colts that say there’s going to be alotwrong with you if you aren’t out of here in three seconds!” He drew both guns. “One, two—”
The man stormed out of the room. Roman slid his guns back into his belt and sat back down, but he remained stiff with irritation as the fifth candidate walked into the room. “Tell him to leave before he even gets a chance to sit down, Theodosia,” he whispered.
“What? But—”
“I saw this man earlier,” Roman lied quietly. “He stepped out of the saloon and pissed right in the street. You don’t want someone so ill-mannered to sire the baby, do you?”
Theodosia frowned in disgust. “Sir,” she said to the man as he reached the chair, “I’m afraid you are a bit short in stature.”
“What?” the man asked.
“You look like a short statue,” Roman translated, “so get out.”
Shaking his head in confusion, the man departed.
“Roman, I did not say that man looked like a short statue,” Theodosia clarified. “I said he was—”
“Never mind.” Roman watched as the next candidate entered the room. Tall, with black hair and blue eyes, the man possessed all the physical requirements.
Running low on his supply of the lies he could tell about the candidates, Roman prayed this sixth man was an idiot.
“Good evening, Miss Worth,” the man said. He sat down and ran a long finger across his full moustache. “I am Melvin Priestly. I am twenty-six years old and am the schoolmaster in Red Wolf.”
The man was not an idiot, Roman seethed. “Theodosia,” he whispered. “He—”
“Roman, please.” She studied the candidate, highly pleased with his looks. “How long have you been teaching school, Mr. Priestly?”
“Four years, and please call me Melvin.”
Roman glowered. “She’ll call you Mr. Priestly, and you damn well better call her Miss—”
“Roman.” Theodosia swiveled in her chair toward him. “Please!”
“I’m only trying to make him respect you,” Roman explained. “The two of you have known each other for less than five minutes, and he already wants to use first names, for God’s sake. Listen, Theodosia. If you don’t get respect from these guys, they’ll—”
“I am receiving very little fromyou,”she snapped, turning back around. “Melvin, please tell me about your interests.”
Melvin crossed his legs.
“Look at that, Theodosia,” Roman whispered. “He’s sitting like a woman. I think he’s…well, you know. I bet he wears pink underdrawers.”
