“What?” she asked, confused and embarrassed by her behavior.
“It’s my turn to ask questions, so sit down and kindly give me the same courtesy I gave you.”
“Oh,” she said as she dropped into her chair.
Releasing her hand, Morgan picked up the pitcher and poured some more lemonade.
“Why a saloon?” he asked bluntly, without an ounce of the previous gentleness in his expression. Clearly, this interview was going to be serious.
“Revenue. It had the best return rate on my investment,” she shot back, unapologetically.
Morgan nodded. That made sense. “I understand that, but what made you want to go into business in the first place?”
“As an unmarried woman, I need to be able to support myself. It seemed like a good idea.”
“Why not get married? I’m sure someone as pretty as you had plenty of offers.”
“I have, but no one I loved,” she snapped. “Spending my life under the control of a man has little appeal and even less if I have no genuine feelings for him.”
“The word around town is that your father found you a husband worthy of you and you refused him. Is that true?” he asked with narrowed eyes.
“A man worthy of me,” she snorted. “Is that what they’re saying? Well, yes, I guess some would see it that way. George Montgomery is older, wealthy, and has about as much appeal as an old goat!” she shouted, getting to her feet. “He was prepared to build my father a new church if I accepted his offer. That amounts to a little more than forty pieces of silver, but the principle’s the same. Sold by my own father? No thank you.”
Morgan digested this as he watched her pace back and forth in front of the bar.
“Sit down, Callie Mae,” he said, “I’m not done asking.”
“Well, I’m done answering,” she sassed. “I have chores to do. Saturday’s the busiest night of the week.”
In three strides he was at her side, clamping his big hand around her upper arm as he escorted her back to the table and plopped her on her chair. “Is it true you carry a gun in your garter?” he asked, staring into her eyes as he leaned on the table.
“Yes!”
“Do you know how to use it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
That shocked her and she relaxed and smiled as Morgan backed off and leaned against the front of the bar. “What else do you have in place for your protection? I imagine it can get pretty wild in here when a cattle drive comes in.”
“I have a couple of men who come in and keep an eye open for anything that looks like it’s getting out of hand.”
“And if it does, what then?” he demanded, returning to the table.
“I send for the Marshal or his deputy and I have a shotgun behind the bar. I’m not afraid to use it.”
Morgan nodded, although he sensed her words were mostly bravado. “Do you serve food?” he asked, looking around for any sign that her establishment offered a meal. “One of the best ways to keep from getting rip roaring drunk is a full belly.”
“No. I usually have peanuts or some such on the bar, but no food.”
“Why not?”
“Mrs. Dixon is a widow now. The profits from the Blue Bonnet Café are all she has to support herself and her children. I don’t want to cut into that.”
Morgan nodded in understanding. “What about ordering some sandwiches from her and selling them at a small mark-up? You’ll make a little more money and the extra business will help her,” he suggested. “When you see a customer getting drunk, offer him something to eat and a cup of coffee. I have no doubt your pretty smile will entice even the most obstinate man.”
“Why, Morgan, that’s a wonderful idea. I never thought of it that way, and I know Laurie Dixon would be thrilled. She’s struggling as it is and that would be a tremendous help.”
