Cera's Place (6 page)

“Damn.” Rubbing her sore shoulder, she walked back to the pile and set up another row of cans.

“That’s some fine shooting,” a male voice called out from behind her.

Cera whirled, instinctively bringing the shotgun to her shoulder. Her cheeks turned hot when she saw Jake leaning against the kitchen doorjamb with arms crossed and a look of genuine appreciation on his face.

“Customers shouldn’t wander where they don’t belong,” she cautioned, lowering the weapon. “They could get hurt.”

Jake lifted his chin toward the cans on the ground. “Good thing for me you’re empty. Anyway, Sonya said it would be all right to watch.”

“Huh. Guess I’ll have to dismiss her.”

Jake’s expression changed to one of alarm. “I hope you aren’t serious. I would hate to be the cause of anyone’s misfortune.”

Cera shrugged. “I’m sure cleaning out the spittoons will be punishment enough.”

“I was serious about the fine shooting, though. Who taught you?”

“Nobody. I taught myself out of necessity. Running a saloon’s a pretty hard business for a woman.”

“You know, if you hold that scattergun a bit differently, your shoulder won’t hurt so much.”

She raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“Here, let me show you.” Jake closed the distance between them in two long strides. Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her around to face the cans on the crates. “Reload.”

Cera’s jaw set at his command, but she did as ordered. When she raised the shotgun at the target, he put his arms over hers.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Mr. Tanner.” She struggled against him, but the soldier held firm. “I don’t have time for your nonsense. Take your hands off me.”

“Settle down. I’m only trying to show you the right stance. But since you brought it up, I kind of like you in my arms.”

“You seem to have forgotten I have reloaded, Mr. Tanner.” She made her voice soft but full of warning.

Jake cleared his throat. “Anyway, you need to bring the gun up to your cheek first and then put it into your shoulder. Don’t lower your head.” Jake adjusted the shotgun against Cera’s body. “Now make sure your legs are spread apart.”

“Mr. Tanner...” Cera growled.

“Let me finish, please. Your legs should be shoulder width apart and your left foot forward. Keep your knees slightly bent and your body loose. If you’re tense, the recoil will hurt more.” Jake made a few more adjustments. “Are you at ease?”

Cera blew air from her cheeks in reply.

“Fine, we’ll pretend you are. Now line the gun up with your target. You have to slap the trigger—it’s not like other guns where you need to squeeze. Give it a try when you’re ready.”

As he lowered his arms, his hands casually brushed the sides of her body before he stepped away. Startled, she drew in a sharp breath and then glared at him with narrowed eyes.

He didn’t seem to take notice of her annoyance, though. With a lift of his chin toward the target, he repeated, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Turning her attention back to the tin cans, she followed his instructions and hit the first two. “Why, you’re right, Mr. Tanner,” she exclaimed, “that hardly hurt at all.”

He rolled his eyes at her disbelief. “I’ve had some experience with shooting guns.”

Cera nodded at the understatement. “Of course, you have. At any rate, I’m much obliged for the lesson, Mr. Tanner.”

Cocking his head to the side, he asked, “How about if you repay me by calling me ‘Jake’ instead of ‘Mr. Tanner’?”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Now, if you will excuse me, I should be getting back to my customers.”

“Fine, Miss Cera, but remember to reload that shotgun of yours. You wouldn’t want to be caught with your guard down.”

Cera frowned at his words, but couldn’t find anything inherently wrong with them. Feeling she was being unnecessarily rude, she offered, “Why don’t you go get a drink. Tell ‘em it’s on my bill.”

Shrugging, Jake offered her a tilted smile before heading for the door. While Cera reloaded the gun, her eyes skimmed his lanky form before he disappeared into the saloon. There was no doubt she liked what she saw, but there was also no use in liking it. She had a better chance of pulling a royal flush than succeeding in affairs of the heart.

A few minutes later, when Cera entered the bar, she heard Ginger’s sugary laugh combined with Jake’s low one float across the room. A twinge of jealous panic ran through her. Infuriated with herself, she turned back toward the kitchen, bumping into Sonya on the way. “I’m sorry, Sonya, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Sonya put a comforting hand on Cera’s upper arm. “I know what you were watching and don’t you worry. From what I’ve seen, the soldier can’t take his eyes off you. He’s just being polite with Ginger.”

“I told you, I’m not interested in him. He can talk to whomever he wants.” She pushed past Sonya and went into the kitchen.

****

As Jake enjoyed Ginger’s company, he kept one eye on Cera. Ever since he had returned the locket to Sadie, he’d felt a new lightness in his being that intensified when the saloon owner was near. Though woefully out of practice when it came to the pursuit of a woman, he knew he needed to try.

He let his mind wander, imagining the softness of Cera’s smooth skin against his own as he explored the angles and curves of her body. He thought of burying his hands in her shimmering auburn hair that reflected light like sparks from a fire. He was moving on to tasting her delicious mouth when he felt a sharp slap on the side of his head. “Ow! What’d you do that for?”

Ginger’s red lips frowned. “Well, now, you ain’t even listening to me no more! You sure know how to hurt a girl’s feelings. You could at least pretend to be interested in what I’m saying.”

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking…”

“I know what you were thinking!” Ginger hit him again. “It was written all over your face! And let me tell you, Cera would take a gun to you if she knew you were thinking about her like that.”

Jake chuckled despite the threat of bodily harm. “I’m sure you’re right, Red. I’m sure you’re right. But what’s a man to do? She’s so cantankerous.”

“Do you know how many men walk into this saloon every month? Every week? Hell, every day?” Ginger spread her arms wide. “Cera gets propositions constantly, but she just smiles politely and says ‘no thank you’ without a second thought. She’s bad tempered with you because you’re different. You’ve made her feel something she hasn’t felt in a long time—maybe never.”

“She’s said something to you?” Jake leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

“She don’t have to. I can see it in the way she acts when you’re here and when you aren’t. If you are serious, you’ll figure out a way to bring her around. Why don’t you come upstairs and let me show you something. Maybe it’ll help.”

Jake held up his hands. “Whoa, now, Red, I appreciate the offer, but you’re, well, a little too much woman for me. I haven’t been on that horse lately and I’d hate to disappoint you.”

Ginger let out a long sigh. “As much as I’d love to try you out, Captain, I’m not asking you to my bedroom. Just come with me. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Jake followed Ginger up the stairs, eyeing her backside. “I do have to admit, Red, I admire the view from here.”

Ginger turned and winked. “Most men do—unless they don’t have a heartbeat.”

In the narrow hallway, Ginger stopped in front of half a dozen photographs mounted on the wall. With a wave of her hand, she explained, “We call this our Wall of Dreams. Before the ladies in these pictures worked at Cera’s Place, they were whores, but now they are respectable.” She pointed to the first frame. “This is Kate. She’s a school-marm in San Diego. And this Helen. She lives on a farm just outside of the city with her husband and two children. I could go on, but the point is, all these women owe their new lives to Cera. She gave them a decent job with no whoring, encouraged them to save their money, and then to go after their dreams.”

“So Cera’s dream was to own a saloon?”

Ginger frowned and shook her head. “Cera don’t talk about her dreams. She’s too busy helping the rest of us.”

“When will your picture be up there?”

“When I can afford to move to New York. I’m going to be an actress.” Ginger struck a pose with her head held high and bosom sticking out.

Jake chuckled. “And a fine one you will be.” He studied the photographs some more. “What about this one? Is that Cera with her parents?”

At the end of the row, a gold frame held a worn and faded picture. A crease ran through the middle, as if the photograph had been folded and placed in a pocket for many years. The frame looked of high quality, something the local general store didn’t stock. In the picture, a man and a woman stood on the porch of a clapboard house. A small girl sat on the steps between them. The woman was the spitting image of Cera, except for the eyes. The man and the child had Cera’s eyes.

“Yes,” Ginger confirmed, “a few years before they headed west to prospect for gold. Her mama died shortly after they joined a miner’s camp. Influenza got her. Cera was eight and took over caring for her daddy, cooking and such. For years, they bounced around the countryside, trying to find a fortune.

“Then one day, her daddy got shot right in front of her, something about who had rights to a claim. She wasn’t even a full-grown woman and you know what she did?” Her head tilted at the question, but she didn’t wait for an answer. “She picked up a gun, aimed it straight at her daddy’s killer, and shot him dead.

“Well, you can imagine, the man’s friends weren’t too happy with her. They beat her up real good, almost killed her. That’s how she ended up with Li, our cook. He’d been working for her daddy. Li nursed her back to health and they’ve been friends ever since.

“Cera was working in a saloon near the wharf when she met Isaac, that’s the piano player. She don’t talk about that part of her life and I don’t ask. We all know how miserable saloon life can be. Sometimes it’s best forgotten.” Ginger fell quiet, staring off down the hall at nothing. With a shake of her head, she continued, “Anyway, the point is, Cera’s fought long and hard to get where she is today. Maybe you need to remind her of what she’s still missing.”

“I appreciate you sharing this with me, Ginger.”

She shrugged. “Sure thing, Captain. I’m happy to help.”

Grimacing, Jake took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He suddenly felt weary to the bone. “Please call me ‘Jake.’ I’m not a soldier anymore.”

“If you ain’t a soldier, how come you wear that Union coat?” Ginger pointed a polished fingernail at his chest.

Jake studied the tips of his boots for several seconds, and then gave her a silent shrug.

“You know, sometimes after a man gets a few drinks in him, he gets to talking. Since the war, I’ve heard terrible, heartbreaking stories from men who are tired of being soldiers, but can’t remember what is was like beforehand. They don’t know how to live with us regular folks. They miss the friends they fought alongside with—and watched die. Some feel dead inside and wish they were dead on the outside.” Ginger took a hold of Jake’s shoulders and shook him gently. “You’re strong, Jake. You’re not like the walking dead. You want to live. I can feel it. You need to let go of the past.”

He turned his head when he heard footsteps on the stairs, silently groaning when Cera appeared. The look of disbelief on her face stabbed him straight in the heart.

Recovering, she said in a cold voice, “Ginger, Horace is looking for you downstairs. Something about a card game you promised him.”

Blushing deeply, Ginger hurried past Cera. “I’m sorry. I’ll go find him straightaway.”

Jake opened his mouth to explain the compromising situation, but Cera held up a hand to stop him. “Step out of my way. I need to get to my room.” When she moved to get past him, he grabbed her by the arm.

“Don’t,” he pleaded.

“Don’t what?” Her lips trembled, but he didn’t know if it was from hurt or fury.

“Don’t think what you’re thinking. It wasn’t like that. We weren’t doing anything.”

The look she gave him could have scorched the paint off the front of her saloon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shook her head. “And, anyway, it’s none of my business.”

Desperate to make her understand, he crushed his mouth against hers, pushing her against the wall with his body. He poured all of his anger and frustration over the war and his losses into the kiss, hoping she would take it and set him free. Instead, she struggled to free herself, finally ending the battle with a slap to his face.

Jake rubbed the pain away with his knuckles. “I guess I deserved that for the kiss, but I’m telling you, I didn’t touch Big Red, I mean, she touched me, but not in the way you think…I mean we were only talking…” He stopped, realizing how he sounded. “Funny, I wouldn’t have taken you for the kind that slaps. I would expect you to punch.”

“I didn’t have room to throw a punch. You had me up against the wall.”

He nodded. “Good point. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“There had better not be a next time.” Keeping her eyes on him, she felt behind her for the doorknob to her room. “I think you should leave my saloon now, Mr. Tanner.”