The Bachelor Tax Page 3

  “Yes, I suppose I did,” she blurted, her embarrassment made complete by her position, as he strode across the dusty street.

  “I’ll just…” He stopped, halfway across the wide expanse and looked down at her, frowning. “Where am I takin’ you, ma’am? Where are you stayin’ these days? Maybe I’d do better to load you on my horse to get you there?”

  Rosemary closed her eyes against the utter humiliation of this day. “Just let me down, sir. I’ll make my way alone.”

  He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Can’t do that, Miss Gibson. You’d fall on your face, and my mama would roll over if she knew I’d treated a lady so badly.”

  “So far, you’ve proposed to me under false pretenses and made a public spectacle of me, carrying me down the middle of the street. How much worse could it get?” she asked, stiffening her body within his hold.

  He tightened his grip. “If you don’t stop wiggling, sweetheart, I’ll drop you. And then you will be in a fix.” His eyes darkened, and he glowered at her as if he wished he’d never sullied his hands with her.

  She closed her eyes. “Just across the street, please. I’ll walk from there.” Her hands seemed useless appendages, and she folded her arms firmly across her breasts, making fists of her fingers, lest she be tempted to push them against him in a bid for release.

  He bounced her in his arms again, as if to get a better grip, and her breath escaped in an audible puff of air. The brim of Rosemary’s hat tilted precariously over her forehead and she was sure that her lower limbs were on view to whoever might be observing from the sidewalk.

  The urge to weep was almost irresistible, and she drove her fingernails into her palms, gritting her teeth against the impulse. In moments, Tanner stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk and deftly lowered her to her feet.

  “There you go, ma’am. I hope I’ve been of some service to you.”

  She cast him a sidelong look, her hands busy with brushing her skirts into place. “Yes, I’m sure you have, Mr. Tanner. You’ve been a real blessing.”

  He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Was that a note of sarcasm I heard? And after all I’ve done?”

  He was drawing a crowd, Rosemary realized, suddenly aware of the ladies who had stepped from the bank. A handful of old gentlemen lingered nearby, their trip to the emporium for their usual game of cribbage interrupted by her misfortune.

  “Just go away, sir,” she managed to whisper, the appearance of tears becoming a real possibility.

  He was silent for a moment, unmoving before her, and Rosemary drew in a quavering breath, wishing she might just vanish from this place and from his presence.

  Tanner’s fingers gripped her chin and he tilted her face upward, peering down into her eyes. “Are you gonna cry, sweetheart?”

  “No! I never cry,” she lied, even as a tear escaped from each eye.

  Damn, he was in a spot. Half the town was within hearing distance and he was in over his head, trying to make amends for being a gentleman for once in his life. Even as he mulled over his options, a tear dropped to the front of her dingy dress and soaked into the dark fabric.

  She was about the most pitiful sight he’d seen in a month of Sundays, with most all of her hair twisted up somewhere beneath that drooping hat she wore, only bits and pieces of it peeking out. It wasn’t the dark brown he’d thought, but a pretty color, sort of brown and red put together. And somehow she’d managed to hide it under the ugliest piece of black straw he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Ma’am?” His fingers tightened their grip, and he saw her wince. With a grunt of regret, he released her chin, aware of the soft texture of the skin he’d probably bruised with his clumsy touch. Her mouth quivered, and he watched even, white teeth clamp down on her lower lip.

  “Ma’am, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, aware that the ladies who had stepped closer were probably being eaten alive with curiosity. He’d almost put his head in the noose once with this female. Now he’d managed to get himself in a hullabaloo with folks looking on.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Tanner. You may go on your way.” She looked to be balanced pretty well on both feet, and Gabe stepped back, sweeping his hat from his head.

  “I’m glad I was able to be of service, ma’am,” he mumbled for the benefit of the onlookers. “You’d better get that ankle looked at.” His gaze dropped to where her foot was barely grazing the wood beneath it, only the toe of her boot brushing the sidewalk.

  Maybe he should…Hell, no! He wasn’t about to make any offers. He could just see himself pulling off her boot and running his hands over her foot and the bones of her ankle. Then he would be in hot water with the fine female citizenry of Edgewood. They’d have him at the altar in no time flat.

  Yet, Rosemary’s legs had been most appealing, he admitted to himself, almost grinning at the memory. Curving up from the top of her low boots, they’d been a tempting sight. He’d warrant her feet were narrow and well formed, her ankles slender.

  “Rosemary, are you all right?” From out of nowhere, Phillipa Boone arrived, breathless and concerned.

  “She tripped on a ball in front of the hotel,” Tanner offered. “I helped her across the street, but she says she can walk now.”

  Phillipa nodded. “I saw you carrying her from my front window.” Her lips curled into a knowing grin. “I’m sure you were a big help, sir.”

  Tanner replaced his hat, tugging the brim down sharply over his brow. “I’ll be on my way. Hope your foot’s all right, Miss Gibson.”

  He turned from the gathering, aware of Phillipa Boone’s words of commiseration and the answering murmur of Rosemary’s voice. What a mess. Twice now, he’d been in close proximity with the woman. He’d better keep his distance before the creature thought he really was interested in her.

  His steps quickened as he headed for his horse, and with a final glance at the ladies who were intent on tending to the preacher’s daughter, he rode toward the livery stable. Bates Comstock greeted him with a grin. “What’s this I hear about you offering for Gibson’s girl, Tanner? You plannin’ on bein’ domesticated like the rest of us?”

  Gabe felt a shudder of dread down the length of his spine. “It got me out of payin’ the Bachelor Tax, and that’s a fact. Damn tax is ridiculous anyway. Why the town thinks it has to meddle is beyond me.”

  “They’re tryin’ to raise money for the new schoolhouse they want to build.”

  “Hell, if they count on the new tax to pay the bill, it’ll be a long time till the first wall goes up. There’s not that many bachelors around these parts.”

  “What are you doin’ in town, Tanner?” Bates asked.

  “Fact is, I was on my way to see you when Miss Gibson took a fall out in front of the hotel. I carted her across the street and let Pip Boone take over with her.”

  “You’re gettin’ in deep, boy. You’d do well to steer clear of that gal, or she’ll be takin’ you up on your offer.”

  Tanner kicked at a stone, venting his irritation, one hand propped on his hip. “Forget it, Bates. She’s not about to take me on, and that’s that. Now, I need to know how many horses you want from my place. I’m givin’ you first pick.”

  Bates slid his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I need three or four. Town’s growin’ and I get calls most every week for a carriage or somebody lookin’ to buy a horse. Your animals broke to harness?”

  Gabe shrugged. “Whatever you’re lookin’ for, I’ve probably got. I’m cullin’ out some of the three-year-olds, those that are saddle-broke and a couple I’ve been working with, pulling my buggy.”

  “Let me come out tomorrow and take a look,” Bates said. “How are the prices?”

  Tanner grinned. “High. I’ve got the best horses in east Texas, and you know that as well as I do.”

  “What are you gonna do with the rest of them?”

  “There’s a dealer in Shreveport ready to take anything I’ve got to sell.”

  Bates nodded. “I’d
best beat him to it then, hadn’t I? I’ll be out in the morning.”

  “If I were a man I could have a job doing the accounts for Mr. Stillwell at the Golden Slipper,” Rosemary said, propping her chin on her fist, one foot stretched before her with a cool cloth covering her ankle.

  “Don’t even think it,” Pip said sharply. “Even if you were a man, you wouldn’t want to work for a saloon keeper.”

  “Not much chance anyway,” Rosemary said with a defeated shrug. “He’d never hire any kin of my father. They were on opposite sides of the fence till the day papa died.”

  Pip bent over the injured foot and lifted the towel, swinging it in the air to cool it. “I’ll bet you’re going to be laid up for a couple of days,” she pronounced grimly. “You’ve really done it, Rosemary. I’ll tell you what. As soon as I lock up here, I’ll give you a shoulder to lean on and walk you home.”

  The thought of stepping with her full weight on the swollen ankle made Rosemary wince, but there was no getting around it. The parsonage was over two hundred feet from the back door of the store, and she needed help.

  The sun was heading for the horizon when the two young women turned the corner and the humble home Rosemary had shared with her father came into view. Before it, a large wagon was backed to the gate, and several men were unloading pieces of furniture.

  “I thought it wouldn’t be arriving for three more days,” Rosemary said quietly, too upset by this turn of events to hold back the tears that filled her eyes.

  “Where is your furniture?” Pip asked, as a large sofa was turned on end to fit through the doorway.

  Rosemary was beyond speech and only shook her head.

  “Miss Gibson!” The tall figure of James Worth hastened to where the two women stood. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come and get you when the wagon arrived. We’ve been busy unloading, as you can see. I fear we had to put your things out on the grass, and these gentlemen will load them on the wagon and take them to the livery stable until you can decide what to do with them.”

  “All right,” Rosemary answered stoutly, blinking her eyes, determined not to show the sorrow that filled her to brimming. She’d known for three days that a decision must be made, and now she was out in the cold. No miracle had occurred. No angels had appeared to wave their wings on her behalf.

  If only Lars Jorgenson had not been set aside for another, she might even now be fixing the evening meal for her husband.

  And at that thought, she burst into tears.

  Chapter Three

  The back door to the saloon was tightly shut, only a crack of light appearing below the heavy pine portal. Rosemary stood in the darkness and listened to the sounds from within. A woman’s laughter rippled past her hearing, then the lower tones of a man’s voice, accompanied by a thumping beat as music from the front of the saloon filtered through the crowd.

  Her dark clothing hid her from those who might be passing by the alleyway, a narrow lane running between the town’s business community and a row of houses behind it. Rosemary lifted her hand and formed a fist, rapping hesitantly on the wooden panel.

  From within, there was no cessation of sound, only an additional voice added to the others. “I don’t care if you just rinse them out. Get those glasses back to the bar. Ain’t there any warm water on the stove?”

  The female answered with assurance. “I’m neither cook nor dishwasher, Jason. You’re just lucky I’m good-natured, or I wouldn’t be helpin’ out.”

  “And you’re lucky I’m payin’ you good money for sashayin’ your fanny across that stage, Laura Lee. Most places, you’d be workin’ for tips from your gentlemen friends out front.”

  “Go take care of your customers, sweetie. I’ll bring your glasses out in a minute,” the woman’s voice replied.

  Rosemary lifted her hand to rap again.

  “You’ll have to pound harder, miss. They can’t hear above the noise, lessen you bang good and loud.” The voice from behind her spun Rosemary in place. She staggered as her injured ankle gave way, and her hand grasped for purchase on the shoulder of the young boy facing her.

  “You startled me,” she croaked. “I thought I was alone here.”

  He grinned widely, tugging his cap from his head. “I don’t make no noise, ma’am. I been watchin’ you, and I figured you needed some advice.”

  Before Rosemary could utter a word of protest, his fist made contact with the door three times, each thump hard enough to rattle the hinges. She looked around, anxious lest anyone should see her in such a place, and was about to make her escape when the door creaked open.

  “See, what’d I tell you?” the boy asked, his grin visible in the light streaming from the open doorway.

  “Ma’am?” The golden-haired woman inside the building appeared to take Rosemary’s measure. Her lips curled in a smile of amusement and she swept her hand in welcome. “Come on in, why don’t you? No sense in standin’ around outside. You come to see old Jason? Or maybe to convert the customers?”

  Rosemary stepped within the doorway, casting a glance behind her for the youth who had hastened this moment. He was gone, not even a shadow betraying his presence.

  “You’re the preacher’s girl, aren’t you?” the woman asked.

  Rosemary nodded, assailed by the scent of hard drink and heavy perfume. “I wanted to talk to the owner, Mr. Stillwell, if he’s available.”

  “He’s at the bar,” the blond woman told her. “I’m Laura Lee, his…” She smiled, then waved her hand in Rosemary’s direction. “I work here, honey. What do you need with Jason?”

  The door across the room swung open and a dark-haired man strode in, the noise from behind him assailing Rosemary’s ears with a harsh symphony of sound. “Where in hell’s those glasses, Laura Lee? I need them now.”

  He halted abruptly when he saw Rosemary, and his brows rose in question. “Didn’t know we had company,” he said slowly.

  “I’ll get the glasses,” Laura Lee told him, turning to the sink. “The young lady wants to see you, Jason.”

  Jason moved closer to Rosemary. “Last time I saw you, you was walkin’ behind your daddy’s coffin on the way to the cemetery. You’re a long way from the parsonage, ma’am.”

  “I wanted to see you, Mr. Stillwell, and I thought this might be the best time. I hesitated to come to your business establishment during the day.”

  He nodded, and then, as if he had just remembered his manners, he pulled a chair from the table and offered her a seat. Rosemary settled herself on the edge of the chair, aware of the sidelong looks she was receiving from Laura Lee, who splashed water from the stove into a dishpan.

  Rosemary leaned forward, hoping she would not sound too much like a beggar asking for alms. “I need a job, Mr. Stillwell, and I heard that you were looking for an accountant to do your books. I’m very good with figures, sir, and I desperately need work. I thought I might be able to—”

  Jason held up a hand, halting her effectively. “You want to work for me, ma’am? I don’t think so.” He grinned widely. “I’d have every woman in town after my head if I were to take you on in any way, shape or form. Surely a lady like you can find respectable work without having to knock on my back door.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Rosemary said glumly. “But, I’ve been everywhere in town that might need help, and no one has a position open.”

  “Your daddy didn’t leave you too well fixed, did he?”

  “No. He truly thought he had years ahead of him to see to my future. There was only a little money in the bank, and the funeral took a good share of that. I need to find work and a place to live.” She cast him a look of chagrin. “Believe me, I looked everywhere else first. I still can’t believe I had the nerve to come here. You were my last resort.”

  Laura Lee sashayed past with the tray of wet glasses, and leaned down to whisper loudly in Jason’s ear. “You could always use a new singer, Jason. Bet she has a repertoire that’d set your customers on their ear.”


  “Don’t give the lady a hard time, Laura Lee,” he said with a chuckle, one wide palm swatting the blond’s ruffled skirt as she passed the table and went on through the swinging door.

  “I need a bookkeeper, sure enough, Miss Gibson, but it’s a job for a man. Besides, you know I wouldn’t dare hire you. I only stay in business by the skin of my teeth as it is, what with half the women in town wantin’ to close me down.”

  “They do?”

  Jason leaned closer. “They don’t approve of their husbands coming in for a drink or a hand of cards, let alone climbin’ the stairs to visit—” He frowned. “I don’t think you need to hear that, ma’am.”

  Rosemary felt a flush creep up her throat and splash color on her cheeks. “I understand, sir.” She rose and clutched her reticule before her. “It was sort of a last chance, coming here.”

  “I wish I could help, ma’am. If I hear of anything, I’ll get a message to you.”

  Rosemary groped for the doorknob behind her and twisted it, tugging the door open quickly. “Thank you, Mr. Stillwell. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No bother, ma’am. You be careful going home, you hear?” He watched her, stepping out into the alley as she made her way from sight.

  “You get a job, ma’am?” From the shadows behind the hotel, a slight figure stepped forth. In the moonlight, he exhibited a cheerful smile, sweeping his cap from his head politely.

  Things were going poorly when a grimy scallywag possessed the friendliest face in town, Rosemary decided. At least, the most welcoming smile she’d been offered today. The rejection she’d received from Samuel Westcott was no easier to accept because it had been delivered with a tight-lipped smile. And the grim refusal of Duncan Blackstone at the newspaper office had left her with nothing but a sense of failure.

  Even Pip had found it hard to smile when she turned down Rosemary for a position. The banker, Pace Frombert, had only shaken his head disapprovingly, as if a woman inside his establishment was not to be considered, unless she was a customer.