Just This Once (23 page)

Penny flushed at the memories of how she’d
let Judd Stickley into her bed anytime he chose because she’d been
too scared of losing her job to refuse him.

“And if you hadn’t gotten away, Penny, I
never would have thought of leaving the Golden Pistol either,” Rose
mused. She traced a finger around the rim of her glass. “But I sure
hope Jo’s okay.”

The man at the table behind them waved away
a waitress who tried to remove his nearly empty plate. His
slate-blue eyes shone as he shifted forward in his chair,
listening.

“When I heard she married that handsome
gunman in Judge Collins’s study that night and hightailed it out of
town with him, I nearly fainted,” Rose continued. She took another
sip of lemonade. “The judge’s wife told Mrs. Lorrimer at Mason’s
General Store that they were headed for New York City—and then
London, England
.” She shook her head in amazement. “Seems
that gunfighter is some sort of English lord. The Earl of
someplace.”

“Imagine our Jo married to an earl—that
makes her almost a princess or something,” Penny exclaimed, her
hazel eyes dancing.

“I just hope she’s happy. He was sure a
handsome cuss, but Jo was trying to run away from him last I
heard.” Slowly, Rose lifted worried eyes to Penny’s face.

“Want to know what I think? If Jo didn’t
want to be with that hombre, she’d find some way to get away from
him.” Penny nodded, aware that she wanted to believe that the
friend who had helped her escape Judd Stickley was now as happy as
she herself was. “She told me once about her husband—she was scared
to death of him. Not that she would admit it—Jo’s not like that,
you know. But I could tell by the look in her eyes when she talked
about him.”

“I know. She told me she didn’t ever want
another husband—and now, poor kid, she’s got herself one.”

“But maybe she’s loco in love with him. He
could be rich. And you said he was handsome, didn’t you, Rose?”

“Terrible handsome.” Rose nodded
emphatically.

“Then let’s drink to Josie,” Penny said,
grinning. She lifted her glass of lemonade. “Let’s hope her new
life is as wonderful as mine... and as yours is going to be,
Rose.”

The women clinked glasses and giggled.

Behind them, the fair-haired man with the
stubbly blond beard shoved back his chair and strode from the
dining room.

He found Spooner, Deck, and Noah in the
corner saloon and pulled himself up a chair. “Boys.” He grinned at
the three of them. “I just had me a spell of powerful good luck.
Seems I know where my bitch wife made off to.”

“Does that mean we’re going after her?” Deck
tossed his cigar butt on the floor and ground it with his shabby
booted heel. “We’re gonna get back all that loot and them jewels we
took off that English lady?”

“Damn straight we are. We head out today.”
Snake grinned at his cousin and reached for the bottle of whiskey
in the center of the table.

“Well, all right!” Noah whooped. “Won’t
little Josie be surprised?”

“Sure she will. And soon as I catch up with
her, I’m gonna skin my little honey alive for thinking she could
jest up and leave me like that. Yes, sir, I surely will.”

Snake’s ice-blue eyes lit with anticipation
as he tilted the bottle back and drank. His rough-hewn handsome
face glowed. Nobody crossed Snake Barker and got away with it.
Especially not some uppity woman. And when he’d finished teaching
his stupid slut of a wife a lesson for stealing from him and
running off behind his back, why, that skinny little Josephine
Cooper Barker would sure wish he’d just gone and killed her.

But Snake knew mere killing was too good for
her.

“Uh, Snake?” Spooner broke into his reverie,
his tone uneasy. “What about the big payroll coming through on the
stage next week? We got the job all planned.”

“So?”

“So maybe we should just forget about Josie,
leastways for a while, and stick to business. There’s gonna be a
pile of money on that stage—”

“I don’t give a red-hot damn about that
stage!” His face red with fury, Snake surged up from his chair,
grabbing Spooner by the collar and yanking him forward across the
table.

As several men in the saloon turned to stare
at him, he froze, glaring at Spooner, then plopped back down and
took a deep breath.

“I want my wife back, boys,” he rasped in a
lowered tone, but one that left no doubt of his determination. “You
hear? I want her—and everything she took from me. And I’m gonna get
her. So boys, you and me are going on a little trip.”

“Where, Snake?” Deck asked eagerly, licking
his thin lips with anticipation.

Snake gulped the last of the whiskey and
wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he answered. The words danced
from his tongue.

“England, boys. We’re goin’ to take us a
boat to London, England.”

J
osie tossed and
turned all the rest of the night and awoke groggily to the song of
birds in the garden. Her arm hurt the moment she sat up, and with
the pain came a rush of memory.

“No, no, no,” she groaned, plopping back
down among the pillows. It wasn’t only the nightmare of the robbery
that made her close her eyes tight, but the memory of that scene
with Ethan. She still smarted at the sting of his treatment of her.
She wouldn’t ever let her guard down with him again, ever even
consider reaching out to him as a friend—or anything else.

She ought to stay clear of him. She
wanted
to stay clear of him. Yet she found herself jumping
out of bed immediately after entertaining this thought, and
wondering if she would see him downstairs at breakfast.

With this in mind, she hurried through her
toilette, selected a pretty floral muslin gown, and brushed her
hair until it shone. It fell in gleaming waves, loose and
luxurious, then she tamed it into a quick chignon before leaving
her room to make her way through the long hall that led to the
stairs. She wasn’t trying to impress Ethan Savage, she told
herself, squaring her shoulders as her hand closed on the banister.
Or even hoping to see him.

No, she just wanted to look her part, and
that meant not going about this exquisite house like a ragamuffin.
She had to look nice in order to play her role—the servants would
certainly raise their brows if she came down in her old gingham,
with her hair tangled like a mop. So she told herself as she
entered the dining room, her heart beating a bit faster as she
anticipated seeing Ethan at the head of the long table.

But he wasn’t there. The dining room was
empty, save for the dazzling bouquet of fresh-cut summer roses
nestled in a crystal vase at the center of the table and the silver
coffeepot and china cups set out on the sideboard.

“Oh, my lady—such a surprise.” Mrs. Fielding
had been bustling toward the back hallway when she saw her new
mistress from the corner of her eye. She hurried into the dining
room after Josie, her arms full of fresh linen. “Never did I expect
you would be awake and about so early—nor that you’d come down for
your breakfast. His lordship gave specific orders that you were not
to be disturbed for any reason, and that Devon should bring you a
tray in bed. And indeed, my lady, after all that has happened—”

“You know about the robbery? Ethan told
you?”

“Oh, yes, my lady.” The housekeeper clicked
her tongue in dismay. “How horrid for you, and for everyone in that
house. I won’t sleep a wink tonight thinking on it! His lordship
went out a short time ago to see how Colonel Hamring fares this
morning. Dear me, what a sweet boy he is—Lord Stonecliff, I mean.”
She blushed and shifted the linen in her arms. “I beg your pardon,
but I can’t help feeling pride at what a fine man our young master
has turned out to be. Seems like only yesterday he was a wee child,
and now he’s a grown man—and such a strong, handsome man at
that.”

Yes, and a cynical, irritating one as
well.
Josie slanted a glance at the housekeeper as she poured
herself coffee at the sideboard. “It’s difficult for me to imagine
my husband as a sweet boy, Mrs. Fielding. But since you knew him in
those days, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, yes, indeed, my lady. He was ever one
to be asking questions, mind you, and loved to tag about with the
gamekeepers and the gardeners and the grooms, especially Ham, I
recall—but never was there a kinder, more thoughtful child....
Well, now, listen to me running on.” She shook her head and smiled
apologetically as her mistress took a thoughtful sip of coffee.
“It’s good to have him back, that’s all I’m meaning to say. After
that last to-do he had with the old earl, I never thought to see
Master Ethan on our good English soil again. But one never knows
how things are going to turn out now, does one?”

“No, I suppose not.” Josie took a breath,
hesitating. She desperately wanted to ask Mrs. Fielding about the
rift that had occurred between Ethan and his father, but she knew
it wasn’t the “ladylike” thing to do. Mr. Latherby would have
scolded her like a squawking old crow, and Ethan...

Ethan would be mad as hell if he caught her
questioning the servants about him behind his back. Still, she was
just angry enough with him to go ahead and do it.

She opened her mouth to ask the question,
changed her mind, and instead took a gulp of coffee, cursing her
own scruples. Before she could make up her mind whether or not to
proceed, she was rescued from her dilemma by Mrs. Fielding. The
housekeeper recalled herself to her own position, and to her duty
toward the mistress of the house.

“Begging your pardon, my lady, for talking
your ear off. If you’d like, I’ll see to your breakfast.”

“Don’t bother, Mrs. Fielding, there’s no
need to go to all that trouble. I’ll just mosey on down—I mean, go
into the kitchen and scramble myself an egg...”

Her voice trailed off. The housekeeper
looked as horrified as if she’d suggested going down to the stables
and munching on straw and manure.

“My lady, it’s no trouble, none at all,”
Mrs. Fielding assured her in faint tones. “If you’ll only care to
have a seat here in the dining room you’ll be quite comfortable,
and I won’t be but a minute.”

She vanished before Josie could protest.
Josie stared after her, realizing she’d made a serious mistake.
With a sigh, she set down her cup and went to the window, gazing
out at the lovely peaceful lawns and yew-rimmed gardens dappled by
sunlight.

The trouble was, she wasn’t accustomed to
being
useless
. She could probably whip up a breakfast every
bit as tantalizing as Cook’s, and in less time. But she was
expected to steer clear of the kitchen and allow herself to be
waited upon.

It shouldn’t be so hard, she thought with a
wry shrug. It’s what many people dream of. But she wasn’t used to
being idle, to not having a purpose each day, work to do, something
to accomplish.

You do have something to accomplish,
she reminded herself as she slipped into a chair. You have to see
your arrangement with Ethan the Terrible through to the end, send
some money off to Mrs. Guntherson at the orphanage for the
children—and find Alicia Denby.

A thought occurred to her as the dining room
doors swung open and Mrs. Fielding breezed in, followed by John and
Rupert bearing trays with silver-covered platters.

“Mrs. Fielding,” Josie said as the footmen
busied themselves setting out an enormous breakfast on the
sideboard, “I wonder if you happen to know of an acquaintance of
mine—I met her when she was in America recently. Her name is Miss
Denby. Miss Alicia Denby.”

She held her breath as the housekeeper
tilted her head to one side, considering. “No, my lady. I don’t
believe so. Lord Stonecliff and Mr. Hugh never did entertain much
in this house—except for a hunting party now and again. So we
didn’t have many dinners or card parties or such. I’m sorry, my
lady.”

“That’s all right. If Ethan still intends to
go to London today, I imagine I’ll meet some people—make the
acquaintance of some who might know Miss Denby.”

“Aye, my lady, that you might. His lordship
has already informed us that he plans to set out early this
afternoon.”

Beaming, the housekeeper surveyed the spread
upon the sideboard with approval, then took her leave.

Alone once more in the sunlit dining room,
Josie shook off a twinge of disappointment. What had she expected,
that she would find Miss Denby on the first try?

It would take more luck than she’d ever
known to track the girl down. But what she lacked in luck, Josie
knew, she made up for in sheer grit and persistence. Now that she
had actually taken the first step in trying to find Miss Denby,
even while she was still “married” to Ethan Savage, she felt
better. She would make it a point to become at least polite
acquaintances with several fashionable people in London and
continue asking until she found someone who knew of her. That way,
when this farce of a marriage ended—if not before—she’d be ready to
move forward.