He watched her walk along the boardwalk. The broad-brimmed hat cast her face in shadow. The demure high-collared blouse only accentuated her full breasts, while the slim, tapered skirt called attention to her narrow hips and tiny waist. He thought he saw her smile in his direction, but before he knew for sure, Quentin interrupted his perusal.
“That wouldn’t by any chance be the widow Audi I’ve been hearing so much about, would it?” Quentin asked.
“It would and it is.” Kase turned, suddenly curious. “What have you heard?”
Quentin smiled. “Only good things. That she’s the best cook west of the Mississippi and that Busted Heel’s lucky to have her. No one took the time to tell me she was a beauty, but from the way the boys go on about her, I should have guessed as much.”
Kase felt something inexplicable tighten in his gut. For some reason it irked him to think “the boys” spent any time at all talking about Rose Audi.
He could hear her footsteps approaching. As she drew near, Quentin leaned closer and asked Kase to introduce him. Kase knew without looking when Rose was standing beside him on the boardwalk. He turned and found her smiling down at Quentin who had not yet stepped up out of the street.
Although he had not meant them to be, Kase’s words of introduction were terse. “Rose Audi, this is Quentin Rawlins, owner of Mountain Shadows Ranch. Quentin, Mrs. Audi.”
Quentin reached out for Rose’s hand and in a grand gesture, drew it to his lips. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
“Grazie, signore.
”
When she blushed and bestowed a sparkling smile on Rawlins, Kase felt his jaw clench involuntarily. But when she turned her smile on him, the clench moved to his midsection. It had been three long weeks since he’d been this close to her, and to his dismay, Kase found her far lovelier than he remembered.
“Signor Marshal, I come to discuss business with you,” she said as soberly as she could with her heart beating in her ears and the blood suffusing her cheeks.
“In that case, Mrs. Audi,” Quentin interrupted, “I’ll make myself scarce for a few moments while you two take care of business.” He turned and headed toward Al-Ray’s before either Kase or Rose could protest.
Kase stood wondering what she might want with him before he remembered his manners and asked her into his office.
Rose entered before him and Kase closed the door. He watched her open the drawstrings of her small black bag. She took out a roll of bills and held them toward him. “The money I owe to you, Marshal, is here. All of it.”
He hesitated, then reached out and took the wad of bills, then handed them back. “Keep it.”
“No,” she shook her head. “I have no need.” She thrust it toward him. “Is yours. You keep.”
“You might need it.” He pushed her hand away.
She threw the money on the desk.
He didn’t know what else to say. For some inexplicable reason he felt as if he should keep talking so that she would not leave. He didn’t exactly want her thinking he hated her, but she was just so damned determined. His own stubborn pride kept him silent. He couldn’t bring himself to congratulate her on her success. Gathering up the bills, he toyed with the money for a moment before he shoved it into his back pocket.
“I should go...” she said.
“Thanks for paying me back so soon. You’re sure you don’t need—”
“No. I’ve no need.”
“Well, then, I guess...”
“Buon giorno,
Marshal.” She put her hand on the door handle, then paused and turned around. “I will give you one dinner gratis, no money, if you like, because you are my— investor.”
“That’s kind of you, Mrs. Audi, but no, thanks.”
“Rosa,” she corrected.
“Rose,” he amended.
“Va bene.
”
He saw her frown as she started out the door again and felt an overwhelming need to apologize for the way he had treated her. But it wouldn’t do to start anything he knew would be better off left alone. He didn’t have to remind himself he was still a half-breed, not to mention a man whose questionable heritage made him unfit for the likes of Rose Audi. But there was something about the disappointment in her stance that made him speak.
“Thanks anyway, Rose.”
She turned on him, eyes bright, a smile back in place. “Not Rose. Rosa.”
“So you have business with the widow Audi, eh, Kase?” Laugh lines radiated from the sun-browned skin around Quentin Rawlins’s blue eyes as he pulled a chair up to Kase’s desk.
“Not anymore.”
“A misunderstanding?”
Kase shook his head. “No, not at all. I loaned her some money when she first came to town and found out her husband was dead. Paid for her train ticket out of here, but she used the fare to stake her business instead.”
“Nothing like good old Yankee ingenuity.” Rawlins laughed heartily. “Why’s that bother you, Kase?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. It just does. The fact is, she’s just so damned stubborn. I told her to get on the train and head home and she refused.”
“It seems to have turned out all right.”
“For now. I just don’t think a decent woman living alone belongs here in Busted Heel.”
Quentin stretched and then fingered a silver button on his shirt. “She’s quite a looker. I doubt if you’ll have to worry about her being alone very long.” He looked around the jailhouse office and then back at Kase. “You must have guessed I didn’t ride into town just to get a glimpse of the widow Audi.”
I hope not.
Kase waited patiently. Sooner or later Quentin would get around to having his say.
“You ever heard of the Dawson gang?”
Kase settled back in his chair, glad to have his mind on something besides Rose Audi. “Can’t say as I have.”
“Four of the meanest sons of bitches ever born.”
“Brothers?”
“Yep. Bad blood runs in their veins.”
Kase suddenly wondered if there was any truth to that old saying. If so, what of his own bad blood? Suddenly he didn’t want to hear what Quentin had to say. It seemed there wasn’t any subject that was safe for him to think about anymore. Not bloodlines, not Rose Audi. Maybe, he thought, it was time to move on.
Quentin took his silence for attention. “The Dawsons started out as petty thieves bothering farmers on small spreads without the manpower to stand up to them. They moved up to shootin’ up towns and riding roughshod over places like Busted Heel. Done some horse-thieving.”
“Have they been spotted around here?”
“South of Cheyenne last month. Who knows where they are now? Just keep your eye out for four or more men riding together, strangers you might not recognize. Are you familiar with most of my men by now?”
“Most of them. You keep adding new ones, which makes it tough, but they always come into town together, so it’s easy to pick ‘em out.”
“I’ve had a run of good luck lately, hired a good crew. Just sold off a herd of beef for the highest price yet. I’m thinking it’s about time I did a little celebrating.”
Kase looked doubtful. “So you came to Busted Heel instead of heading into Cheyenne?”
Quentin laughed. “No, I came to Busted Heel to tell you about the Dawsons and to eat at Rosa’s place. I’ll tell you how I plan to celebrate over dinner.” He stood up and walked to the hat rack beside the door. Quentin reached for his gray felt Stetson and waited for Kase to join him. “Come on, Kase. I’ll buy.”
Except for Slick Knox, who sat slowly savoring a cup of coffee, the restaurant was empty. Rosa bustled about in the kitchen and wondered whether or not to deep-fry any more uova alla torinese when she heard the front door open. She leaned away from the stove and peered around the door frame. Her breath caught in her throat.
Kase Storm and the big man he had introduced her to earlier were standing in the dining room, waiting to be seated.
She dropped the spoon and pressed her palms against her cheeks and then her forehead. The kitchen was sweltering, her face flushed. The hairstyle she’d taken such pains with that morning rode nearer the nape of her neck than the crown of her head.
And Kase Storm was standing in her restaurant.
The day’s menu suddenly seemed inadequate. She glanced at the vegetable soup, breaded eggs, spinach tossed with garlic, the sautéed rabbit and polenta and silently scoffed, “Peasant fare.”
She peered around the door frame again. The Rawlins man exchanged greetings with Slick Knox while Kase Storm stood silent, his hands shoved deep in his back pockets. His hooded eyes took in every detail of the room.
There was no time to change the menu. They were waiting.
Rosa took a deep breath and smiled. Then she stepped into the dining room.
“Benvenuto,
gentlemen. Please, sit. Sit.” She drew a chair away from the empty table and waited while Kase indicated that Quentin should be seated first.
“Well, Rosa,” Quentin began, “I’ve heard nothing but good things about your cooking, so I decided to try it for myself. We’ll have two of whatever you’re serving today.”
She wanted to keep her gaze from straying to Kase, tried to concentrate on Quentin Rawlins’s words, but was finding it nearly impossible.
“Grazie, signore.
I hope you like it.
Un momento.
I’ll bring the soup first.”
Without another glance in Kase Storm’s direction, she returned to the kitchen. Once inside the smaller room, Rosa leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath. Her hand shook as she ladled the soup into two bowls. What had come over her? She wanted to speak to Kase, but each time she started to say anything directly to him, she was overwhelmed By fear.
What if she said something wrong?
What if she made him angry again without knowing why?
What if the soup got cold before she carried it out to them?
She scolded herself for her foolishness and served the soup. Rosa set Quentin’s down without mishap, then walked around the table and reached out to set Kase’s bowl at his place. Her breast accidentally brushed his shoulder. She was close enough to hear his swift in-drawn breath. As Rosa set the bowl down, a spoonful of soup sloshed over the lip.
“Scusi.
”
“It’s all right,” he mumbled.
Quentin silently watched the exchange. “Can you sit with us, Miss Rosa, while we eat?”
Rosa glanced toward the door and then to Slick Knox’s deserted chair. The barber had put his money beside his empty plate and left while she was serving the other men. Since there was no reason why she should not join them, Rosa pulled out a chair and sat down.
“This is delicious,” Quentin said. “What do you think, Kase?”
Kase glanced up at Rosa long enough to mumble “Great.” He dipped his head again and concentrated on the soup.
As he grew silent, Rosa’s apprehension mounted. She turned her attention to Quentin. “Yours is the ranch where the cowmen work?”
Quentin laughed easily. “Yep, but around here the men who own the cattle are called cowmen and the men who work for them are called cowhands, or cowboys. I hear they’re some of your best customers.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “You just let me know if you have trouble with any of ‘em and I’ll see they don’t bother you any more.”
Kase shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Rosa glanced in his direction, then back at the older man.
“Grazie,
Signore Quentin, but they have been gentlemen.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I don’t see how they could be anything but gentlemen around a lady such as yourself.” After one look at the marshal’s face, Quentin finished his soup in silence.
Rosa waited for Kase to speak, but he continued to stare at her without saying a word. She chanced a glance in his direction and was assaulted by his blue-eyed gaze. When she caught herself staring back at him, she nearly jumped out of her chair and grabbed his empty bowl.
“I will get the rest.”
Kase followed her with his eyes. Her wine-colored skirt twitched provocatively from side to side with each step. He hoped he could make it through the next course.
“Never took you for a coward, boy.”
Quentin’s soft words drew his full attention. “What do you mean by that?” Kase’s voice was low, the words carefully drawn out.
Quentin leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out beneath the table. “I know your pa, that’s all, and I figured you to be more like him. He’d never let a woman make a stone statue out of him.” The older man frowned and straightened. “What’s eatin’ at you, son?”
Everything was eating at him. Since the moment he walked in the door, Rose had met his eyes only once; then she had run from the room like a skittish colt. Each time she spoke to Quentin, Kase felt his stomach knot as tight as wet rawhide drying in the sun. For all he knew, the food she had served him tasted like the bottom of an old shoe; his mouth had gone dry at the sight of her. Now Quentin Rawlins was calling him a coward and he couldn’t come up with an argument. He didn’t know why in the hell he was feeling the way he was, but he did know things hadn’t been right since the day Rose Audi stepped off the train.
“Nothing’s eating me.” He went silent again when Rose entered and set down their plates.
“Can you stay, Rosa?” Quentin asked again.
“I must check on the pudding,
signore.
Perhaps later.”
Kase watched her smile down on Quentin and then picked up his knife and fork. He attacked the succulent portion of rabbit on his plate and listened to the sound of her receding footsteps.
“I’m having a big shindig out at the ranch, Kase. Whole town’s invited, all my men, some of the farmers close to town. Might even ask some of the folks I know in Cheyenne to come out to stay the night.”
“When?”
“Two weeks. I’d like to have you there, of course.”
“Sure.”
There was a long pause. Quentin looked thoughtful before he added, “Thought you might drive Rosa out to the party.” He took a bite of food, chewed, swallowed, and then continued. “Don’t think she could very well ride out with Flossie and the girls. The Wilkies’ wagon will be full of Wilkies.”
Kase looked skeptical. “You’re inviting Floss and the girls?”
“Floss and I go way back. Wouldn’t want the boys to be disappointed. There’s not enough women to go around at a dance anyway, and after all, this is a party for the boys.”