“He distractsme,” she finally confessed.
The other woman nodded.“That much is clear. There ain’t nothing stopping you from havinghim.”
Her mind wentblank.
“Out here,there’s no one to judge, or make you feel less than, though I wouldguess there ain’t much or many you allow to make you feel inferior.I would wager you make your own path, and you don’t listen to anywho would tell you otherwise. Your Mr Wade, I reckon he would beopen to any suggestions you might have in that area.”
Cheeks blazing, Hopeducked her head.
“And I knowfor a fact he ain’t be visiting anyone in my line ofwork.”
“What?” Shehadn’t thought of it...or she’d forced herself not to think ofit.
“We ain’tseen him in the Rose, and none of the girls in any of the otherwhorehouses has neither. He’s either a preacher or he’s saving itfor someone in particular he wants, and even a preacher comesvisiting.”
Uncertainty drew Hope’sbrows. Margaret seemed convinced, and maybe it was Hope had noticedMr Wade stared at her as much as she stared at him. Maybe it wasshe could do something about it. Maybe it was...
“Do you wantto know how to attract a man?”
Her spine snappedstraight. “No, thank you.”
“It would beno trouble,” Margaret said, grinning. “And I wouldn’t even chargeyou for it.”
“That is notnecessary,” she said stiffly. “I am employing you for secretarialwork, not for...other reasons.”
“Areyou—”
“Thank you,Margaret.” Bending her head, Hope resumed her work and, after amoment, Margaret did the same.
But a seed had beenplanted and now, in addition to Mr Wade, she couldn’t stop thinkingthat maybe her secretary was right, that maybe she should pursue achange in her relationship with Mr Wade. She would think on itthese days he was away…and when he returned, she would do somethingabout it.
ChapterEleven
PASSING BY THE TANNERY on theoutskirts of town, Jake rode back intoIronwood. Eight days he’d been gone, riding south to Rober aforelooping back. The camp had held little word of Callihan and hismen, but most agreed he weren’t as dead as folk thought and he wasspoke of in hushed tones, as if the man himself might leap out fromthe shadows to rain hellfire and damnation on those who uttered hisname. Callihan had built for himself a legend, and even Jake hadcause to feel trepidation, though that was then and this was now,and Hope McElroy was his main concern.
Forcing his horse’s gait to slow as they ambled past thefirst saloon, he told himself he weren’t eager to return to thehotel, and he definitely weren’t eager to seeher, though she’d beenin his thoughts from the time he rode away from her until thismoment when he’d returned. More than like he would think of heruntil he stood before her once more and assured himself she wereunchanged.
It was confounding as all hell what hefound so fascinating about Hope McElroy. It weren’t like she didanything to attract his attention. She didn’t flirt or preen, shedidn’t show she were interested in anything aside business.However, he couldn’t stop thinking of her mouth with its thin upperlip and full lower one, or if her slight breasts would disappear inhis hands, and whether her skin would be paler in the places thatweren’t shown in public.
More than that, though, he wanted heropinion. On everything. He’d discovered some information she waswanting in Rober, and he wanted to hear her tell him in her flatvoice that she wanted more, that she expected more, and then hewould delight when he gave her the more she wanted. The corner ofher lip would then tilt into a slight smile, and he’d feel he’dconquered a whole range of mountains.
Cursing himself, he shook his head indisgust. Yeah, true it was he weren’t goddamn eager to seeher.
Reversing direction, he headed for thebath house. It would put another hour between this time and thetime he saw her again. Being as it were so early in the day,though, it were mostly clear of people, and he was washed, shaved,and on his way in less time than it took to rub down his horse.Reluctantly, he headed for the hotel. He couldn’t put it offforever, though perhaps he could delay a little more by orderingsome breakfast, in a fool attempt to convince himself he weren’t inwant of her. Deliberately he set his feet to the dining room,ordering a meal that would take him the better part of an hour toget through.
As he bit into a biscuit slatheredwith a surprisingly delicious butter, the reason he weren’t eagerpulled out a chair and sat before him. After his attempts to avoidher, she saw fit to put herself in his path. Miz McElroy looked thesame as she always did, dressed in a nondescript gown with her hairpulled back. There was little colour in her cheeks, and her palegaze held his own levelly. Nothing of welcome and even less offlirtation. Why did he find her so goddamn fascinating? “Mr Wade,”she greeted.
He waited until his mouth weren’t fullof biscuit before replying. “Miz McElroy.”
She watched as he buttered anotherbiscuit with firm, deliberate strokes. “When did youreturn?”
“A couple hoursago.”
“Ah.” Her expression wasstill, but he was well-versed in the minutia of her and saw a wispof hurt. She glanced from him, her gaze lowered.
The biscuit turned to clag in hismouth. Cursing himself, he tightened his grip on his knife. He’dmeant only to hurt himself with the delay, not her. He never wantedto hurt her.
The murmur of other diners invaded thesilence between them. After a moment, she asked, “What did youdiscover?”
