He shouldn’t care, he knew that. After all, he wasn’t ready to marry, and Miss Wright had made it more than clear that marriage was what she wanted—and she didn’t much seem to care to whom. Even if he were ready, he knew he shouldn’t even consider a woman who was interested in the status of being a wife more than she was the man she married.
He deserved something better than that. Something more like what his sister and her husband had. They looked at each other as if they were constantly sharing an unspoken conversation.
Liam had introduced Miss Wright to Deirdre in the hopes his sister might befriend her. Perhaps Deirdre could find some fool willing to take on a woman who wasn’t interested in him at all. With Miss Wright occupied, he could busy himself with everything else that needed his attention—his work at the land office, finding one more investor for his hotel now that Gardiner had delivered the news that he would invest a substantial sum, and planning what in the world he might write in return when the letters from women interested in his accidentaladvertisement started arriving. All he could hope was no one else would take it upon herself to simply show up.
It grew dark by the time they closed the office these days, and after bidding goodbye to Gilbert, Liam shoved his hands into his pockets and braced himself against the cold wind for the short walk back to Darby’s Boardinghouse.
People hurried around him, most likely heading to supper with a decent contingent of men making their way toward the Starlight Saloon. A raucous piano melody seeped out around the door as Liam passed on the opposite side of the street, and he found himself idly wondering how much money Mac Allen made from the establishment. He didn’t know much about the man, but perhaps he should find out. He could be a possible investor in the hotel, provided he ran an honest business. Liam intended to stay far away from anyone who didn’t this time around.
A cheerful wreath hung on the door at Darby’s, reminding him that Christmas was a mere couple of weeks away. Inside, a welcome fire blazed in the parlor hearth while the scent of supper wound its way to his nose from the kitchen. His stomach rumbled, and he hurried to his room to shed his coat and gloves.
When he inserted his key into the lock, he found the door already unlocked. He must have forgotten to turn the lock before he left that morning. Unconcerned, he opened the door, stepped inside, and stopped short.
A low lit lamp illuminated someone fast asleep on his bed.
Afemalesomeone.
Liam froze. Had he entered the wrong room? He glanced at the number on the door. It was the right one, and there, still lying open and upside down on the night table, was the book he’d been reading. A glass of water he’d forgotten to bring back downstairs sat beside it.
The woman must have thought this room was hers. There was no other explanation, except it still made no sense becausethe Darbys purposefully housed men and women on separate floors.
Liam squinted at the figure on the bed as the lamp flickered. She was on her side, turned away from him, with her head buried between the pillows. All he could see was that she wore a dress with some sort of pattern on it.
Maybe she had a problem with drink and didn’t realize where she was. It was a wild explanation, but not entirely implausible.
He backed out the door slowly, not certain what to do. He’d have to wake her, he supposed. She couldn’t stay in his room, no matter who she was. He could fetch Miss Darby and ask her to wake the woman, but he tossed aside that idea the moment it occurred to him. The Darbys ran a nice boardinghouse with a reputation they prized, and any whiff that he might have been up to anything indecent would be enough for them to show him the door.
No, he’d have to wake her, but there was no reason it couldn’t wait until after he’d eaten. Waking a potentially soused lady and forcing her out of his room was something he needed a full stomach to handle. And perhaps, in the meantime, she’d awaken and remove herself.
After a good meal and excellent conversation with a couple of men who were in town to see to an interest in construction materials, Liam made his way back across the boardinghouse’s small dining room. He glanced down the empty hallway toward his room. Was she still inside?
Maybe he’d see to some more conversation in the parlor first.
But even as he sat and listened to a fellow younger than himself tell an impossible tale that involved a rattlesnake, a bear, and a bowler hat, his mind wandered back to his room. Every second that ticked by made the situation grow potentially worse.
Mind made up to get it over with, he stood, nodded at the man speaking, and slipped between two armchairs. He washalfway through the room when someone bellowed his name from the hallway.
“Hannan!” It came again, and Liam halted.
The man telling the winding tale in the parlor had stopped speaking, and everyone now looked at him.
“I . . .” He trailed off, unable to find any explanation as to why someone was yelling for him. He wasn’t sure whether he should run toward the sound or try to find his way out a window.
He pasted on a smile and made himself move forward. He’d done nothing wrong, not since he’d run into trouble with Dutch Rodgers last summer. No one should have reason to be angry with him, unless it was some customer from the land office sour over the cost of a lot.
“I’m in here,” he forced himself to say, hollow cheer ringing from his voice.
The second the words were out of his mouth, a man rounded the corner and filled the doorframe.
Liam stopped just before he ran into the man, and, taking a step back, he realized the voice that had been calling for him belonged to the town marshal.
His heart tripped over itself, and his palms grew damp. The room felt altogether too warm now. What in the world could the marshal want with him? He would’ve hoped it was a question about someone who’d come into the land office, except he doubted that Marshal James Wright would be scowling at him if that were the case.
“Good evening, Marshal,” he managed to say, that same false calm smile on his face. Perhaps heshouldhave jumped out the nearest window. The man looked as if he were about to reach for Liam’s neck to strangle him. “What can I do for you?”
“What canyoudo for me?” Wright was almost seething as he clenched his fists at his sides.
“Gentlemen. Why don’t we go into the hallway and leave these men to their conversation?” Mr. Darby attempted to insert himself between them, but Wright took another step closer to Liam, shutting Darby out.
