“Well, I’ll be,” Matthew laughed slapping his leg. “I do believe you bring out the worst in that girl, Morg. And here I always thought she was such a sweet thing.”
“Oh, she’s sweet all right, sweet enough to give you a toothache to go along with the pain in the ass. I’ll see you later, Matthew. It’s time I made my rounds, and don’t give her any more ideas regarding proper ‘saloon girl’ attire. I have a feeling these girls could stir up plenty of trouble dressed as nuns.”
“See you later, Morgan. I’ll hang around here for a while and then I’m going over to check on Miss Laurie, but I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
“Thanks, Matt.” Slapping him on the back, he drained his coffee and headed toward the door.
Three hours later, Matthew slipped in the back door of the Blue Bonnet and took the dish towel from Annalise’s hand. “You go on now, honey. I’ll stay until Miss Laurie’s finished here and see her home.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying.”
“I’m sure, but there are a few customers over at The Duchess waiting for some of that apple pie.”
“Oh, I forgot all about the pies,” Annalise cried, taking off her apron and slipping on her cloak. “Tell Laurie I had to get these over to Callie Mae’s,” she continued as she bustled about the kitchen finding an empty box and placing the pies gently inside. “There’s still an awful lot to do here,” she said, frowning as she looked at the loaded down tray Laurie left beside the sink. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“No, I don’t mind washing a few dishes.”
“All right,” she said picking up the box and pausing by the door. “It’s just that I…I’m a little nervous about getting back to The Duchess on my own,” she admitted quietly.
“There’s a man out there waiting for you and I believe he intends to see you safely home,” Matthew said grinning. “At least he’s been hanging around trying to look busy for a while.”
“Who?”
“Ty Wainwright,” he replied with a wink as he moved to open the door for her.
“Do you know him?” she asked, carefully avoiding his eyes.
“Very well.”
“So, he’s not a drover just in town for a few days?”
“No, honey. Ty Wainwright owns a big spread north of town. Now you hurry along and don’t keep him cooling his heels any longer. He’ll see you get back to Callie Mae’s in one piece.”
“Is he a good man, Matthew?”
“I call him a friend and Ma likes him. You can’t get a much higher recommendation than that,” Matt assured her. She certainly was a funny girl. Just about every female in town had set her cap for one of the Wainwrights, starting with Ty’s granddad. Here she was a sad, quiet little thing, plain as could be, and Ty was about dancing on the boardwalk in his impatience for her to come out. Matt stood on the back stoop and watched her walk down the side of the building until Ty met her halfway, took the box from her hands, and offered her his arm.
The smell of fresh coffee greeted them as soon as they walked through the back door. Setting the box on the table, Ty turned and slipped the cloak from Annalise’s shoulders and hung it on a peg by the door.
“That sure smells good,” he remarked hopefully.
“Yes, it does. Would you like a cup of coffee and a piece of pie, Mr. Wainwright? It’s the least I can do. I appreciate you taking the time to see me home. Please, sit down.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss Martin, and yes, I believe I would like a piece of pie. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked as she washed her hands and unpacked the box.
Annalise shook her head and took several small plates from the cupboard. Getting a sharp knife, she cut the pies into slices and placed one in front of Ty before loading the others onto a tray with some forks.
“I’ll just take these out to the bar. Matthew tells me there are a few customers waiting.”
As soon as she went through the swinging door, Ty got up, located two cups and poured them each a cup of coffee, placing them on the table. The sugar was in a pretty little bowl and he set that on the table as well. In the icebox he found a jug of milk and poured some into a small pitcher.
“Why Mr. Wainwright, I would have done that,” she exclaimed as she came back into the kitchen carrying an empty tray and rubbing her temple.
“I didn’t mind and you’ve been on your feet for hours. Sit down and enjoy your coffee. Have you a headache, Miss Martin?” he asked with concern.
“A little one. It’s very loud in there,” she said nodding toward the bar. “I don’t know how the other girls stand it, but in reality it’s probably from my hair,” she sighed. “I really should have it cut.”
“Your hair hurts?” he asked in confusion.
