“They’re upstairs getting dressed. My wife feels the girls should look the part. She thinks it helps business,” he replied darkly. “I’m telling you, if she comes downstairs one more time in the red dress, I’m going to give her the bottom to match.”
Matthew took a drink of his beer and smiled.
“You knew who she was when you married her,” he pointed out. “Did you honestly believe she’d give up the saloon?”
“I did. We had an agreement,” he replied sourly.
“Then why haven’t you stopped her and shut this place down?”
“There’s more involved than taking my miscreant wife in hand. We have to think of the girls. Annalise will be getting married soon, and so will Marilee. Mead has assured me he’ll put a stop to her working here. That still leaves Fancy and Jane.”
“No prospects on the horizon?”
“Not that I know of,” Morgan replied, lighting a cigar and getting a beer. “I thought Jane and Doc were going to work out, but it seems there are issues with him treating her like a child.”
“She is a child, or nearly,” Matthew pointed out. “What is she, all of eighteen?”
“She’ll be nineteen in a few weeks, but to hear her tell it, he would like to keep her in pinafores and send her to bed by nine o’clock.”
Matthew whistled.
“It doesn’t sound reasonable to me. After all, legally she’s a grown woman, but I do notice things.”
“Like what?”
“Jane is prone to stomping her foot when she’s annoyed. She also seems to be overly fond of sweets to the point she often skips dinner, preferring dessert, and she’s pretty quick to throw things. He calls it childish. I call it spoiled, and honestly, his attitude doesn’t help. One minute he’s babying her and the next he’s threatening her with a good spanking. I wish he’d make up his mind.”
“Sounds like a trip to the woodshed is called for,” Matthew offered, taking another sip of beer.
“You’re one to talk,” Morgan snorted. “You let Laurie lead you around like she has that ring you’re so longing to put on her finger right through your nose.”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?” Matt asked, stiffening his spine. He barely noticed Mead walking up beside him until he ordered a beer.
“Let’s face it,” Mead added. “We’re all in the same boat. It’s called pussy-whipped, if I recall.”
“That’s a strange term,” Matt pointed out, “and besides, it doesn’t apply to me, as I’m not poking anyone.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Morgan put in. “How much longer are you going to let Laurie run the show? It’s time you married that woman!”
Matthew couldn’t fail to notice the look that passed between his brothers. There was concern and an intensity that could not be ignored any longer. They’d been pressuring him for weeks.
Before he could question them, Fancy came down the stairs wearing a green, figure-hugging dress. She drew every eye in the place as she walked to the piano, sat down, and began playing. The private moment seemed to be lost as men began clapping their hands and stomping their feet at the rousing tune she pounded out. Her red curls bounced as she nodded her head in time to the music. Matthew imagined a few other things were bouncing as well when some of the men surrounded the piano.
Marilee was coming downstairsin a blue silk dress, the feather in her dark hair bobbing. Morgan signaled for her to take his place and jumped over the bar. Taking a position behind Fancy, he crossed his muscular arms over his chest and stood guard like a papa bear.
“Mead,” Marilee acknowledged with a bright smile.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Mead replied, reaching to take her hand. “How are you tonight?”
“I’m fine,” she replied with a blush. “Hello, Matthew?”
“Marilee,” Matt said with a nod.
“Going to see Laurie?”
“Yes, I am, and I should get moving. I’m sure she’s had a long day and I help her clean up when I can.”
“That’s awfully sweet of you, Matthew,” Marilee drawled. “I’m sure she appreciates it.”
