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Shot Gun Grooms: Lucas's Convenient Bride / Jackson's Mail Order Bride
Maureen Child
Susan Mallery
Now, thanks to their cagey uncle's ironclad will, saloonkeeper Lucas MacIntyre was forced to find himself a bride. So he proposed a chaste businesslike "merger" to Miss Emily Smythe, a uniquely enterprising schoolmarm. But how could he keep them wed in name only when all he wanted to do was bed down with his bride in her brand-new inn?And as for his brother….The fur would fly sure enough when his bear of a brother, Jackson, woke up to find himself hitched to Miss Molly Malone. He'd thought surely she was mistaken. But delirious with fever, he'd unknowingly consummated their marriage. And the Irish firebrand was determined that their union stick "'til death did them part"! Well, now he was guaranteed his inheritance, but what was the miner to do with a wife?


SHOTGUN GROOMS by Susan Mallery and Maureen Child
Lucas’s Convenient Bride
When loner Jackson MacIntyre wakes up from a delirious fever, it’s to find that he’s not only wedded Miss Molly Malone, but he’s bedded her, too! Yes, he’ll get his inheritance now that he’s fulfilled the terms of his father’s will by getting married, but how can he enjoy it when an Irish spitfire’s determined to complicate his life? It certainly doesn’t help that he can’t resist her no matter how hard he tries…
Jackson’s Mail-Order Bride
Lucas MacIntyre stands to inherit half of a saloon, gold mine, and ranch, but there’s just one problem: his uncle created a clause in his will, stipulating that he and his brother must marry if they want to claim their property. So Lucas proposes that Emily Smythe, the hard-edged newcomer, become his wife so that she can manage his saloon and he can inherit. But Lucas never counted on falling for Emily…

Praise for the authors of SHOTGUN GROOMS
SUSAN MALLERY
“Susan Mallery is warmth and wit personified. Always a fabulous read.”
—New York Times bestselling author Christina Dodd
“Ms. Mallery’s unique writing style shines via vivid characters, layered disharmony and plenty of spice.”
—Romantic Times Magazine
MAUREEN CHILD
“Maureen Child is one of the foremost names in Americana romance.”
—Romantic Times Magazine
“…unique, endearing characters grab hold of your heartstrings and never let go…”
—Rendezvous
Shotgun Grooms
Susan Mallery & Maureen Child
Harlequin Historical #575

Join the fun with
Susan Mallery
and
Maureen Child
as they bring you

SHOTGUN GROOMS
** an exciting Western historical featuring 2 stories in 1 **
Lucas and Jackson MacIntyre are forced to marry in order to claim their inheritance!
But will these brothers find everlasting love?
AND DON’T MISS THESE OTHER TITLES FROM HARLEQUIN HISTORICALS AVAILABLE NOW:
#576 THE MACKINTOSH BRIDE
Debra Lee Brown
#577 THE GUNSLINGER’S BRIDE
Cheryl St. John
#578 THE SLEEPING BEAUTY
Jacqueline Navin

Shotgun Grooms
Susan Mallery
Maureen Child


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CONTENTS
Cover (#u2bffe439-4f3f-5535-8639-ff7d29fa4a86)
Back Cover Text (#u5cb39ee7-43d6-5724-9585-6e2735e73027)
Praise (#ucee1f1ad-cd1f-5366-9266-8f945fe8b3d3)
Title Page (#u6bf40ffc-4604-5f34-8712-21fe9991890a)
Lucas’s Convenient Bride
Booklist
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Jackson’s Mail-Order Bride
Booklist
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Lucas’s Convenient Bride (#u6aba967d-99f8-5699-a1d3-7b54fd391008)
Susan Mallery
Other novels available from SUSAN MALLERY:
Harlequin Historicals
Wild West Wife #419
Silhouette Special Edition
Their Little Princess #1298
The Sheik’s Kidnapped Bride #1316
The Sheik’s Arranged Marriage #1324
The Sheik’s Secret Bride #1331
The Rancher Next Door #1358
Unexpectedly Expecting! #1370
Wife in Disguise #1383
Shelter in a Soldier’s Arms #1400
Silhouette Intimate Moments
Cinderella for a Night #1029

CHAPTER ONE (#u6aba967d-99f8-5699-a1d3-7b54fd391008)
Defiance, Colorado, 1875
Emily Smythe was more than ready to dance with the devil—if only he weren’t so large. Still, walking away now would be nigh on to shirking and she’d never once shirked in her life. She squared her thin shoulders, raised her chin and told herself that she had righteousness on her side. Righteousness and a plan. With the right plan, a person could take on the devil himself and win.
Ignoring the trembling of her limbs and the way her stomach seemed to be jumping around inside her, she pushed through the swinging doors of the Silver Slipper saloon and stepped into a smoky world.
She had a brief impression of a much larger crowd than she’d expected for a midweek afternoon. There were at least two dozen tables spread out around the main part of the room, nearly all of them occupied. On the far side of the saloon, men sat playing cards. Gambling, she thought with both distaste and shock. Gambling in the middle of the day. Who could imagine such a thing?
Her gaze drifted right and she saw the long, wide bar that stretched the length of the room. It was polished wood, nearly chest high and crowded with men. Behind the bar she saw mirrors, dozens of bottles of liquor and a big bear of man. Lucas MacIntyre, the devil himself.
Emily pursed her lips together in disapproval as she took in the tall, muscular man dressed in black trousers, a white shirt and fancy red vest. Lucas MacIntyre didn’t wear a coat like a respectable man, but considering he operated a saloon, allowed gambling and sold spirits, she doubted the lack of formal attire would be noticed on his very long, very serious list of transgressions.
A voice in her head screamed at her to turn around and leave before anyone noticed her. She didn’t belong here—she couldn’t possibly do this. Yet she knew she didn’t have a choice. Lucas MacIntyre was her only hope for success and she didn’t allow herself to think of failure. She had right on her side. She was a hard worker and she had her plan. She would make him listen, then she would make him agree. All without giving in to the very real temptation to turn on her heel and run.
Emily raised her chin one more notch, sucked in a breath and made her way to the bar. She knew the exact moment that the men in the saloon noticed her presence. There was a heartbeat of excruciating silence followed by an explosion of voices. The crowd in front of the bar parted to allow her access. She marched directly forward, looking neither left nor right, until she could press her hands against the arm rail, then cleared her throat.
“Mr. MacIntyre, may I have a word with you?”
At the sound of her voice, the crowd grew quiet again. Lucas MacIntyre stood with his back to the room, polishing a freshly washed glass. In the time it took him to turn to look at her, she was able to surreptitiously glance about, noticing that while the smell of liquor and cigars was most unpleasant, the saloon was much tidier than she had imagined. The floor appeared to be freshly swept and the glasses were clean. Perhaps Mr. MacIntyre was a man with whom she could reason.
He turned slowly, first putting down the glass then taking the two steps to the bar. It was only when he reached the polished wood that he settled his gaze on her.
She knew the man by reputation but wasn’t sure she’d ever actually seen him around town. Or if she had, she’d never really looked at him. He was tall and broad shouldered, which she already knew, but he was also handsome. Sinfully so. He had strong features with large, dark blue eyes and a full-lipped mouth topped by a silky brown moustache.
He looked her up and down, as if she was some kind of horse for sale, then he smiled.
“I’m going to guess you’re lost, ma’am. Because you don’t look like you’re from Miss Cherry’s and no other female would dare set foot in a saloon. Maybe you’re looking for the Ladies Social Club. They meet on the first and third Wednesday of the month, over at the church.”
Emily heard the sounds of male laughter. She felt her face grow hot and her limbs begin to tremble more. But she couldn’t speak, nor could she move from her spot on the wood floor. It wasn’t his words that kept her firmly in place; it was his smile.
Lucas MacIntyre’s smile had transformed his face from just handsome to impossibly attractive. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes and there was a hint of a dimple in both his cheeks. He looked teasing and irreverent at the same time. Emily knew she should be outraged and insulted, but all she could think was that she’d never seen a man smile quite like Mr. MacIntyre.
“I…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to remember what she’d wanted to say. In all her twenty-six years she’d never been as affected by a man. Her heart was pounding so hard she was afraid it was going to jump right out of her chest.
“Mr. MacIntyre, I assure you I am not lost. I wish to speak with you for a moment.”
Lucas gave her another smile, this one not quite so bright. “No offense, ma’am, but you don’t look like the type to be bringing a man good news, so I’d rather say good-afternoon and suggest you go on your way.” Then he turned and walked to the far end of the bar.
Emily practically sputtered. How rude! How ungentlemanly of him, although she shouldn’t be surprised. Manners were a rare commodity in the West, as she’d learned in the nearly two years she’d been in Colorado. She was also used to being dismissed and ignored by men, although that unpleasant activity had begun long before she’d left Ohio. Emily was a realist. She knew she wasn’t a pretty woman, nor was her appearance the kind to command attention or respect. She’d had to struggle to make herself heard more times than she liked to remember. Most of the time she no longer even bothered. But this was different. This was her future and her dream and she wasn’t about to let this bear of a saloon owner upset her perfect plan.
“Mr. MacIntyre,” she said in as loud a voice as she could manage, then headed for the far end of the bar.
The crowd was thicker there, and the men less likely to let her through. She found herself in the uncomfortable position of having to push between people when her polite “Excuse me” was ignored.
Conversation spilled over her. She ignored the swear-words, the calls of the gamblers on the far side of the room and the odor of too many unwashed bodies. Fortunately Mr. MacIntyre was tall enough that she could easily see him over the heads of his patrons. She moved steadily toward him, only to have him suddenly move back the way she’d come. She was forced to stop and turn herself.
“Excuse me,” she said, trying to squeeze past two miners drinking beer.
Before she knew what was happening, they’d trapped her neatly between them, their heavy bodies pressing against hers. One of them put down his drink and grabbed both her arms.
“Not so fast, little lady,” he said, his voice slurred from the alcohol. “Seems to me if you want to keep brushing against a man the way you are, you have to be ready to accept the consequences.” The last word broke on a hiccup.
Emily turned her head from the horrible stench of his breath. “Unhand me, sir,” she demanded, not exactly afraid but not comfortable, either. She didn’t like the way the man’s fingers seemed to be squeezing her arm, or his nearness, not to mention the closeness of his friend behind her.
“Don’t you sound real uppity,” the man said, his narrow eyes squinting at her. “What’d you think, Bill? She’s got a mouth on her, which I ain’t fond of with any woman. And she’s skinny and ugly.”
Emily gasped as a hand settled on that part of her she didn’t even like to think the name of. That place where she sat. She tried to speak, but all that came out of her mouth was a high-pitched squeal.
“You know,” the one named Bill said, “if we wait until dark, we won’t have to see her face anymore, and if we’re drunk enough, we won’t care that she’s as bony as an old mule.”
Emily didn’t have time to think or react. Suddenly a large hand settled on the shoulder of the man in front of her. The man looked startled, then he was flying through the air, landing on a table and crashing into the ground. She caught a glimpse of Mr. MacIntyre turning toward the one called Bill. That miner went sailing across the room, as well.
Emily couldn’t catch her breath. She wasn’t sure what to say as she started to thank her rescuer. But before she could speak, a different man threw a punch toward Mr. MacIntyre and the fight was on.
Fists flew, bodies tumbled, men grunted, yelled and cursed. And Emily was trapped in the middle of the fray. She told herself she needed to get out of the saloon as quickly as possible, but the swinging doors seemed so far away. She huddled close to the bar, trying to stay out of the way. But when a strange man reached for her, she reacted instinctively. She grabbed a bottle from the bar and crashed it over the man’s head.
At that same instant, she saw a flash of movement. Something hard and horribly painful connected with her eye. She yelped in pain. Stars appeared in her head. She felt her lower limbs starting to give way when she suddenly recognized the man she’d assaulted with the bottle. Her last thought before the blackness reached up to grab her was that she’d accidentally cracked a bottle over the head of the local deputy.
* * *
Lucas didn’t remember ever visiting a woman in jail. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering now. Miss Emily Smythe—former schoolteacher and spinster—had gotten herself in plenty of trouble without any help from him. It wasn’t his fault she’d hit Deputy Wilson over the head with a bottle of Lucas’s most expensive Scotch. Hell, he wasn’t even going to make her pay for the liquor. And he was sure that Wilson would get over his temper soon enough and release the woman from jail. So Lucas should just mind his own business and head back to the Silver Slipper.
Except he couldn’t. He paced outside the sheriff’s office that also housed Defiance’s small jail and swore under his breath. So what if that skinny, pinched-mouth miss had wanted to speak with him? He didn’t owe her his time. He doubted she could have looked more disapproving of him or his place of business. Like he’d thought before—he didn’t owe her anything.
Lucas walked back and forth on the wooden plank sidewalk, hating himself for being curious about what she wanted and wishing he wasn’t thinking what he was thinking. That she might just be the answer to his problem. Yes, he needed an answer and fast, but Emily Smythe? He couldn’t really be considering her could he? He shuddered.
But time was passing quickly and he’d run out of options with last week’s post. Grumbling under his breath, he pushed into the sheriff’s office and asked to see the pinched-faced spinster.
Emily Smythe sat on the edge of the thin mattress in her jail cell. Her back was straight, her expression haughty. Even her black eye looked almost regal. She was the kind of woman who made a man feel he hadn’t washed good enough and that he was going to put every foot wrong. She was cold enough to freeze off a man’s privates. He shuddered again, wishing he could bring himself to ask one of Miss Cherry’s lovelies to help him out. There he’d find a warm, willing woman with plenty of curves and the skill to keep a man purring long into the night.
At least the sheriff kept a clean jail, and it was nearly warm in the spring late afternoon. No doubt Wilson would see reason within an hour or so and let the lady go free, despite her unfortunate aim.
“Miss Smythe,” he said, nodding his head.
He’d remembered to slip on a jacket before leaving the saloon, but he hadn’t grabbed a hat. So when he reached up to tip it, he found his fingers gasping for air. He had to think quick and instead smoothed back his hair, as if he’d planned that gesture all along.
Emily regarded him with as much pleasure as she would an infestation in her flour. “Mr. MacIntyre. What are you doing here?”
Lucas cleared his throat. “Yes, well, ma’am, you mentioned wanting to talk to me.”
“You weren’t interested before.”
He wasn’t now, either, but he felt guilty. Why the hell couldn’t he have lost his conscience when he’d lost his soul? He’d had more use for the former than the latter these past years.
“I was trying to be polite,” he said. “I can see my effort is not welcome. Good day, Miss Smythe.”
But before he could leave, she sprang to her feet and approached the bars. “No, wait.” She grasped the metal with both hands and squared her shoulders. “I would very much like to speak with you, sir. I have a business proposition.”
He was too startled to give her any reaction. In the space of time it took him to absorb her words and wonder if she really meant what she said, he noticed that she’d seemed to brace herself. As if she was expecting him to be angry…or perhaps laugh. There was pride in the haughty angle of her chin, but there was something else in her blue eyes. Apprehension? Fear? Embarrassment?
“What sort of business proposition?” he asked warily, thinking of only one way a woman could have business with a saloon. He doubted that was what someone as proper as Miss Smythe would have in mind.
She glanced left and then right, obviously aware of the men in the other cells unabashedly listening to their conversation. She leaned a little closer to the cell door and lowered her voice.
“I wish to speak with you about your saloon, Mr. MacIntyre. Or more precisely, the rooms upstairs.”
“What about them?”
“I understand they are empty. I wish to change that.” She cleared her throat. “I wish to use them to open a hotel.”
Lucas didn’t know what to say. There were plenty of empty rooms upstairs. In fact the Silver Slipper had been built to have a saloon on the ground floor and rooms to rent above, but he’d never wanted the trouble of running two businesses. The saloon was enough.
“Why?” he asked.
She sighed. “I believe a hotel will be successful. I’m a competent businesswoman—”
“You weren’t much of a schoolteacher,” he said.
She caught her breath and glared at him. She was a little thing, coming to his shoulder. But then he was tall, so most women were little things to him. She was as scrawny as a plucked chicken and she wore the ugliest gray dresses he’d ever seen. Her blond hair was a decent color and he’d noticed it turned nearly gold in the lamplight of the saloon, but she wore it all scraped back, with not a single curl to soften the effect.
“I was an excellent schoolteacher,” she informed him in a voice sharp with that cold he’d been worried about before. “I taught those children more in the nearly eighteen months they were my students than they learned in the previous three years with the other teacher.”
“But they left.”
“The families returned to their homes in Maryland. That decision had nothing to do with my teaching skills.” She removed her hands from the bars and pressed her fingertips together. “Unfortunately, those eight children were the only ones in town at the time, which left me without a position. I cannot wait for another family with school-age children to appear, which means I have to find other means of employment. A hotel is the perfect solution.”
“Uh-huh.”
Lucas eyed her doubtfully. He didn’t know anything about Emily Smythe save that she’d once been the schoolteacher in town and that she hadn’t been born out West. He would bet that her trip to Defiance had been her first journey west of the Mississippi. So why didn’t she just go home?
“You don’t have any family?” he asked.
“They have nothing to do with this.”
So she did have relatives somewhere. Then why wouldn’t she return to them? He doubted anyone as straitlaced as she could have done something to disgrace herself. Emily Smythe wasn’t the type to cause a scandal.
“You’re a teacher,” he said. “What makes you think you know anything about keeping a bunch of miners, ranchers and who knows what kind of riffraff happy in bed?”
Color flared on her cheeks, but she didn’t otherwise respond to his gibe.
“Mr. MacIntyre, I have traveled extensively along the Eastern Seaboard and abroad. I have stayed in exquisite hotels in dozens of cities. In addition, I have a head for figures and I’m not afraid of hard work. I know I can make the hotel a success. I also understand your reticence in allowing me to open my business above your saloon. Let me assure you that in addition to a modest rent, I would be willing to pay you a percentage of the profits.”
“Generous,” he muttered, taking a step back from her.
She wasn’t ugly, he told himself, despite what the miners at his saloon had said earlier. She was a bit on the plain side, but she had big blue eyes he kind of liked. Her skin was pretty—all soft looking and smooth, with a hint of color at her cheeks. Her mouth was a tad pinched, but maybe if she didn’t stand so stiff all the time, the rest of her would relax.
His gaze moved to her body, and what he saw there made him shake his head. She was skinny and didn’t have even one decent curve. No breasts, no hips and he would bet a ten-dollar gold piece that she had bony knees. Lucas was more enamored with plump knees. He liked to kiss the crease in the back, then nibble around to the front, all the while listening to the lady giggle and feeling her squirm. Emily Smythe didn’t strike him as the giggling, squirming type.
But she was a single woman, and that was what he needed right now.
“Stay right there,” he said, then realized it was a stupid thing to say. Where was she going to go?
Ten minutes later he’d talked Wilson into springing her. He led the proper Miss Smythe onto the sidewalk in front of the jail.
“Let’s go talk in my office,” he said. “It’s around back of the saloon. We won’t be disturbed there.”
Excitement glinted in her blue eyes. “So you’ll consider my proposition? How wonderful, Mr. MacIntyre. I’m sure you won’t regret it for a minute. I’ve done the calculations and I expect the hotel to be turning a profit within the month.”
He held up a hand to stop the flow of words, then led the way onto the muddy street.
It was spring in Defiance, which meant plenty of rain, flash floods and mud. Fortunately the Silver Slipper was only a couple of blocks away. The single horse and wagon in the street in the late afternoon was on the far side of the river of mud and they barely got splashed at all.
When they arrived at his saloon, he walked around to the rear of the building. The small door to his office was set under the stairs leading to the second floor that so interested her. Lucas wondered how crazy she was going to make him and how much he would regret what he was about to say. He thought about his current carefree existence and wished it could be different. But it couldn’t. Damn Uncle Simon and his meddling.
He unlocked the door to his office and motioned for her to precede him. She did so, moving with a regal grace completely out of place in this mining town. Despite the fight and her time in jail, she looked as crisp and fresh as she had first thing that morning. Of course the black eye added a rakish touch to her otherwise perfect appearance. If only her gray dress weren’t so ugly.
She paused in the center of the small room until he pulled out a chair for her. Then she settled stiffly on the wooden surface, her back as straight as it had been on that cot in jail. He wondered if she ever bent or relaxed. He had a feeling that if a man tried to have his way with her, she would snap in two, like a fragile twig.
“About the hotel,” she said, as he came around to his chair behind the desk.
“Yeah, well, it’s not that simple.”
Despite owning a saloon, Lucas wasn’t much of a drinking man. Still, he pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his bottom drawer and poured two fingers’ worth into a glass on his desk. He ignored Miss Smythe’s start of disapproval and downed the whole thing in one swallow. Heat burned to his belly, giving him a false sense of warmth and courage. He was an idiot. But he didn’t have a choice. Uncle Simon had trapped him good and tight.
“I can show you my figures,” she said, leaning toward him. “I have them in my room.”
“I’m sure you’re prepared to do things real proper like.”
He leaned back in his chair and glanced around the small office, at the crates of liquor stacked in the corner and the barrels of ale. The bare wood walls weren’t much, but they were his. He’d taken the Silver Slipper from a run-down place with a reputation for watered drinks and trouble to a successful, honest saloon. He ran clean tables, served decent liquor and never cheated anyone. If he lost the saloon, he lost the ranch. Without the ranch, he lost everything.
He returned his attention to Emily. She wasn’t who he would have picked, but then he hadn’t planned on this at all.
“I’ll let you open your hotel,” he began.
“Oh, Mr. MacIntyre, you won’t be sorry,” she assured him.
“You might be,” he said dryly. “Because there are a couple of complications. You can open your hotel, if you cut me in for fifty percent of the profit. And if you agree to marry me, I won’t even charge you rent.”

CHAPTER TWO (#u6aba967d-99f8-5699-a1d3-7b54fd391008)
Emily stared at the man sitting in front of her and had the most unreasonable urge to cry. Since they’d left the sheriff’s office, she’d allowed herself to hope that Lucas MacIntyre was going to listen to her plan, understand and let her open the hotel. She’d thought she’d convinced him of her abilities, her business sense and her sincerity.
She’d been wrong. He had no interest in her plan. Instead he was humiliating her for the humor it brought him. She was disappointed, hurt and determined that he would never know how her insides trembled and her throat felt all tight and sore.
“How interesting,” she forced herself to say, keeping her voice low and even. “A proposal of marriage.”
She wanted to stand and walk out, but she didn’t yet have the strength. Was he doing this because she was a woman or because she was a plain woman?
Emily sighed. All her life she’d longed to be pretty, like other women. However the simple truth was that she was plain. Sometimes she wanted to scream out loud, proclaiming that her looks were not her fault. God had blessed her with many other fine qualities. She was intelligent, loyal, honest and caring. Why didn’t people—men, mostly—care about that? Didn’t they know that a pretty face aged with time, but that the heart and character of a person lasted forever?
Obviously not. She recalled what the miners in the saloon had said. How she was so skinny and unattractive, they couldn’t possibly ravish her in the daylight. They would have to wait until it was dark. Probably they would have to be very drunk, as well.
Familiar pain filled her. The ache for a husband and children. She would never have either. She’d learned that lesson well over the years. Wishing for the impossible was a sign of weakness, and she’d always prided herself on being strong.
Remembering that, she stiffened her spine and drew in a deep breath. But before she could open her mouth, Lucas spoke.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he said, leaning toward her and resting his hands on the desk in front of him. “But I doubt it reflects well on me.”
She rose to her feet. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time, sir. I can see I misjudged you and the situation completely. I apologize for that.”
“Hold on there.” He stood and moved toward her. “What’s got your tail feathers in a twist?”
She blinked at the vulgarity of the question, then raised her chin. “I hadn’t thought of you as a cruel man. I have provided you with an afternoon’s entertainment. That should be enough. If you’ll excuse me?”
“What are you talking about?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “You could have simply told me no. Instead you have chosen to mock me.”
He muttered something under his breath that sounded surprisingly like a swearword. Emily willed herself not to react. If she wasn’t going to be conducting business with Mr. MacIntyre, there was no point in taking him to task on his language.
“I’m not mocking you,” he said, then lightly touched her arm. “I’m completely serious. Please, don’t go. Give me a chance to explain.”
She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to jerk her arm free of his distasteful touch and stalk out of his office. But she couldn’t. For one thing, she didn’t find the light pressure of his fingers the least bit distasteful. Instead they were warm and caused a most disturbing tingling sensation that crept up to her shoulder. Her chest tightened a little, the way it had when she’d seen him smile in the saloon.
Unable to do more than keep breathing, she allowed him to lead her back to her chair where she settled onto the seat.
Once there Emily touched her temple to see if she had some kind of fever. Her skin felt cool as ever. Perhaps something at her noon meal had disagreed with her. Regardless of her brief physical ailment, she seemed to have regained her senses.
“What did you want to explain, Mr. MacIntyre?” she inquired, because trying to leave again would look foolish.
He grinned. “Considering what I’m about to say, you might want to call me Lucas.”
Her mouth went dry and she could feel her eyes widening. She wasn’t sure which shocked her more—his improper suggestion that she use his Christian name or the way his mouth had parted in that luscious, sinful smile.
Inside her sensible black shoes, her toes curled. Her knees actually seemed to bounce off each other in a most peculiar way. The chest tightness returned. But before she could put a name to her condition, he was speaking again.
“It’s all because of my Uncle Simon,” he said, settling onto a corner of the desk.
His left…limb…swung back and forth, nearly brushing against the fullness of her skirt. She shifted slightly in her seat in an attempt to pull back from the contact.
“My parents died when Jackson and I were pretty little. Jackson’s my brother. Uncle Simon raised us right here in Defiance.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t much of a town back then. Just a few mining shacks and an outpost that served as the general store.”
She didn’t think it was much of a town now, but if Mr. MacIntyre had grown up in the West, he couldn’t possibly understand about the beauty of a large city.
“There’s a mine up in the mountains,” he continued. “Jackson sees to that. We bought this saloon about eight years ago and I run it. We also bought a ranch, just outside of town. We’re going to catch wild horses, plus breed our own. For the army. We own the land free and clear, but we have to build corrals, barns, a house, plus pay for feed and stock. That’s what the income from the saloon and mine are going for.”
“That’s all very interesting, Mr. MacIntyre,” she said impatiently, “but I fail to see—”
“Lucas.”
She pressed her lips together. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to call you that.”
He smiled at her again. His mustache twitched slightly. “I bet you can. Why don’t you kinda roll your tongue around the word? Come on. Say it. Lucas.”
She felt heat on her cheeks. Had he actually said that word, the one naming that inner part of her mouth? Next he would probably name her limbs or something even more intimate. The man was impossible.
She thought about leaving, but she knew if she did she would never get a chance at the hotel. And then what choice would she have but to find another teaching position? At that rate of pay, it would take several lifetimes to save enough to open her establishment. She knew that she would never return home—at least not as a someone who had failed. She couldn’t bear the humiliation.
Which meant she was going to have to humor Mr. MacIntyre.
“Fine,” she said through only slightly gritted teeth. “Lucas.”
He winked. “I knew you could do it. Now as I was saying, Jackson and I have this plan for the ranch. The money from my share of the profits of the hotel would really help. The problem is Uncle Simon died.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“He left a will.”
Emily frowned. “That sounds more responsible than problematic.”
“You’d think. But there’s the matter of what’s in the will. You see he’s the actual owner of the mine, the saloon and the ranch. According to the terms of his will, if Jackson and I haven’t each married within three months of his death, we lose everything.”
“That can’t be right,” she said without thinking. Why on earth would a family member put that kind of restriction on his only relatives?
It was as if Lucas read her mind. “I know what you’re thinking, Em,” he told her. “But Uncle Simon had his reasons. He wanted the family name to continue. For the past nine years he’d been waiting for Jackson and I to up and marry. I guess he finally figured that wasn’t going to happen, so he decided to force our hands. The old coot.”
The last sentence came out as a grumble, but Emily—who couldn’t believe the man sitting in front of her had had the audacity to call her “Em”—heard the affection in his voice.
She wanted to ask why he and his brother had never married. She silently counted back nine years and realized Uncle Simon’s expectations had started in 1866. The year the war ended. Of course, Lucas and his brother were of an age where they would have fought. When they returned safe, their uncle had wanted them to start a family. Why had they both resisted?
“So you can see that I’m rightly serious about my proposal, Em,” Lucas said cheerfully. “You get your hotel and I get to keep what’s mine.”
“But why me?” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “There are other women you could marry.”
“Single ladies aren’t that easy to find.”
“But there are those…” She cleared her throat. “What I mean is there are nearly a dozen attractive young women who would suit your purpose.”
She was speaking, of course, of the ladies of ill repute who lived in the great house across from her rented room. Emily would rather sleep on hot coals than ever admit that she might have, on one occasion or another, peeked out her window and seen men entering that building. She’d seen Lucas go in more than once. And she’d seen the beautiful women inside leaving. While her good Christian heart was appalled by their disregard for righteousness, her woman’s soul envied their easy laughter and pretty clothes.
“Why, Em, you do me proud,” Lucas said with a grin. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d even acknowledge Miss Cherry’s existence, let alone that of her girls.”
“I don’t.” She squared her shoulders and avoided his teasing gaze. Which helped her ignore the tingling brought on again by his smile. “I’m simply saying they might be more suited to your needs.”
He nodded. “You know, I gave it a lot of thought, but there’s a problem. I don’t want a real marriage—I want one in name only. Then in a few months, I can get an annulment. One of Cherry’s girls would undoubtedly tempt me into consummating the marriage and then where would I be?”
He stood up and paced the length of the small room. “I thought I’d solved the problem by sending for a mail-order bride. Actually I sent for two. One for me and one for Jackson. However, mine changed her mind. I received a letter a couple of days ago and now I find myself without a bride and not much time left until Jackson and I lose everything. Then you showed up today, wanting to rent the second floor of my saloon and I knew you were a gift from heaven.”
Had Emily been the fainting kind, she would have found herself crumpled on the floor. His insult had been made so casually, she doubted he’d realized the import of his words. But she’d recognized the meaning and it burned. She clasped her hands together in an effort to hold in her pain and not let him know that she cared what he thought. Did it really matter that Lucas MacIntyre considered her charms so meager that she would be easy to resist in the marriage bed? With her he didn’t have to worry about temptation. He could have his marriage of convenience and keep his inheritance, with almost no trouble.
She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but that wasn’t her way. Instead she told herself she was going to refuse him.
Except the marriage would help her, too.
The thought came from nowhere. At first she wanted to dismiss it, but then she considered the meaning. If she married Lucas, she could write her family and tell them that she finally had a husband. A rancher would be considered respectable, even romantic, by her sisters and her mother. She wouldn’t have to say anything about him owning a saloon or their marriage being one of convenience rather than affection. When she left Defiance to start her establishment, she could pass herself off as a widow. Again, respectable.
She glanced at the man sitting in front of her. He waited patiently. Yes, there was something in the situation for her, but he needed the marriage far more than she did. Which meant she was in the better bargaining position.
“I might be interested, however, I want to know what’s in it for me.”
Lucas knew he’d won. The prim Miss Smythe was going to agree to marry him, which meant he was halfway to his goal. “What do you want?” he asked. “I said if you married me, I wouldn’t charge you rent.”
“You suggested that before I knew all the facts. However, I know them now. Therefore, I’ll pay you ten percent of the profits, no rent, and I want a cash settlement at the time of the annulment.”
Had he been drinking, he would have choked. “Why?”
“Because you need to marry me more than I need to rent your hotel.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. Em might be a scrawny thing on the outside, but she had the heart of a lion. And she was a damn fine businesswoman. He was in trouble and she didn’t hesitate to take advantage of that.
He stood and crossed to the door connecting his office to the main room of the saloon. He opened it and yelled for Perry to bring him a pot of tea and two cups. He glanced back at Emily.
“Bargaining is thirsty work.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later Lucas knew he’d been had—cheated by a professional in spinster’s clothing. In exchange for Emily’s hand in marriage, he was getting a mere thirty percent of her profits, she wasn’t paying rent and when the marriage was annulled he would pay her five hundred dollars. He should have been furious. Instead he was impressed.
“I think that’s everything,” she said, rising to her feet. “Thank you, Mr. MacIntyre.”
He shook his head. “Lucas. Or the deal is off.”
She pressed her lips together. “All right. Lucas. And I must tell you, I don’t particularly care for you shortening my name. Emily is perfectly fine.”
“I know, Em. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“When did you want to get married?”
“How about tomorrow morning? Say ten?”
“Fine. I trust you’ll make all the arrangements?”
“Sure. Just meet me at the church.”
“After the wedding I’ll start moving my things in upstairs. I want to get the hotel open as soon as possible.”
She nodded slightly, then turned to leave. Lucas watched her go. He had the oddest feeling that he should do something to seal the deal. But what? Shake hands? Kiss her?
That last thought came from nowhere and he quickly pushed it away. Kiss Emily Smythe? That would be about as exciting as kissing a block of ice. She might have a head for business, but she had the heart of a spinster. Her idea of warming her husband’s bed would probably be to set the mattress on fire.
Chuckling at the thought, he watched her leave, then had the disquieting realization that by this time tomorrow, they would be married.
* * *
Curled up in a small chair just to the left of the window, Emily watched the men entering Miss Cherry’s house. From across the street she could hear the music spilling out the open windows. There were faint sounds of laughter and occasional drifting bits of conversation. Bright lights illuminated the front of the house, as well as the well-kept wooden sidewalk.
Emily’s room was at the top of the stairs, the third story of a building on the town’s main street. The floor below housed the baker and his family and the ground floor held the bakery. When Emily had first arrived in Defiance, she’d been pleased with her narrow but private quarters. She’d spent many nights staring with fascination until she’d finally realized the purpose of the house across the street. The comments she’d heard around town had suddenly made sense. She’d been shocked and embarrassed, afraid someone might have seen her practically hanging out of her window, staring.
Unfortunately, her curiosity had never lessened, so she’d found a way to sit in her chair, out of sight of anyone on the street and yet still watch the goings-on.
Miss Cherry’s girls were lovely in a way Emily could never be. They had large eyes and beautiful hair. Their bodies were full and womanly. They knew how to talk to men, to tease and laugh and flirt. Sometimes Emily’s stomach hurt so much when she watched them.
She knew she wasn’t pretty, but she also knew there had to be something else wrong with her. Other plain girls had managed to attract beaux and eventually husbands. Why couldn’t she? Why didn’t she know how to start a conversation with a man? She’d listened to her sisters flirting with their gentleman callers. Everything they said sounded so silly and the men had loved it. When she tried it though, men simply stared at her as if she were completely without sense.
A tall man turned in to the house. At first Emily’s heart leaped into her throat. Lucas? But then the light caught the side of the man’s face and she realized she didn’t recognize him at all. No. Not Lucas. Not tonight. But he had visited Miss Cherry’s before. Would he after they were married? She knew that some other husbands did, and theirs was to be a marriage in name only. Wasn’t he marrying her because with her he wanted to be sure he wouldn’t be tempted to consummate the marriage?
She continued to stare out into the night and ignored the single tear that trickled down her cheek. She told herself that she had made peace with her life a long time ago. A husband and children were not for her. She had other plans. Yes, of course it would have been lovely to fall in love, but she wasn’t the kind of woman men responded to in that way. She had a greater purpose. She had a plan. And that was going to have to be enough.
* * *
Despite the fact that nothing about the marriage was going to be real, Lucas found himself surprisingly nervous the next morning as he waited for his bride-to-be and the minister to make an appearance in the wooden church on the west side of town. He’d come alone after making arrangements for Pastor Bird’s wife and oldest boy to act as witnesses. He’d thought about sending a message to Jackson but figured his brother either wouldn’t show or would make a scene. A brawl during the wedding wouldn’t help anyone.
“Good morning.”
He turned toward the sound of the voice and saw Emily had entered the rear of the church. She removed her dark cloak to reveal that she’d dressed for the occasion. Today’s dress was light gray and edged in cream lace. At least she hadn’t shown up in black. Not that he’d ever seen her in anything but gray.
Nothing else about her had changed in the night. She still wore her hair tightly pulled back in a knot at the nape of her neck. Her posture was straight, her thin shoulders square.
“Miss Smythe,” he said, bowing slightly.
She raised her eyebrows at his formal address. He only did it to throw her off balance. While he hadn’t spent much time in Emily Smythe’s company, he’d learned several things about her. She was intelligent, determined, a damn fine negotiator and great fun to tease. If he had to be married, the last thing he wanted was some grim woman who didn’t know how to laugh. He wasn’t convinced Emily enjoyed humor, but he’d received a few hints that she might be tempted into a giggle now and again.
“I spent most of last evening packing my things,” she said, walking up the center aisle of the small church. She placed her cloak and her gloves over the first pew. “I thought that after the ceremony I would begin to move in my belongings. I assume I may use the back stairs.”
“Sure. There’s a way up from the hallway behind the saloon, but I don’t guess you’ll want to walk through my place very much.”
Her blue eyes widened at the thought. “No. Thank you.”
He pretended to consider the idea. “In case you change your mind, seeing as we’re going to be business partners as well as man and wife, I want you to know that any liquor you drink is on the house.” He squinted at her. “I can’t see you sipping whiskey, but you might enjoy a nice glass of apple brandy in the evening. To help you sleep.”
Color flooded her face, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “How considerate,” she murmured. “I’ll have to let you know later.”
“Whenever. The offer stands. Oh, and I’ve put a couple of my men to work on cleaning the rooms. They haven’t been used in years, so they’re quite dusty. There’s also more furniture up there than I’d remembered. Plenty of beds and dressers. All you’ll have to do is provide mattresses, curtains and whatever other doodads you like.”
“Thank you,” she said, obviously pleased. “How very thoughtful and kind of you.”
Her words and her smile made him slightly uncomfortable. “It wasn’t anything.”
“I disagree. It was a very nice something.”
Light seemed to fill her blue eyes. That, along with the color still lingering in her cheeks, made her look…different. Not exactly pretty, but not quite so plain. But before he could figure out what, if anything, that meant, Pastor Bird, his wife and his oldest boy arrived. It was time for the ceremony.
Lucas and Emily stood together at the front of the church. Except for the exchange of vows, the large open space was quiet. Lucas tried to remember if he’d ever been to a wedding before, and, although he couldn’t recall a time, the words he and Emily repeated sounded familiar.
As he promised to love and honor the stranger standing next to him, he felt a flare of resentment that he had to go through all this to keep something that was already rightfully his. Damn Uncle Simon. Did the old bastard really think he could force his nephews into marrying?
Obviously he had and it had worked. But he couldn’t keep them married. Lucas had never planned on taking a wife and he didn’t intend to keep this one for very long. He sure wasn’t going to turn the marriage into a real one, so there weren’t going to be any children. It was unlikely that Jackson would think any different, so the MacIntyre name would die out with them.
“You may kiss the bride.”
The pastor’s words brought Lucas back to the present. Apparently he and Emily were well and truly hitched. He leaned down to do his duty, but she shook her head and took a quick step back.
“A handshake will do, Lucas,” she said primly as she extended her hand.
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, taking her slender fingers in his and squeezing gently.
She seemed startled by the contact, or maybe she hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly. She pulled away as fast as she could and busied herself thanking the pastor and his family for their assistance. As he watched her, Lucas had the crazy idea that it might be kind of fun to seduce Mrs. Emily MacIntyre, just to see what happened.
Then he reminded himself that he had enough troubles already, the main one being getting his brother married before the three-month deadline was up. He hoped Jackson’s mail-order bride had plenty of backbone and didn’t scare easy.

CHAPTER THREE (#u6aba967d-99f8-5699-a1d3-7b54fd391008)
“I heard you got hitched,” Mangus Reeves said, then waved his beer in the air. “Say it ain’t so, Lucas. Not you.”
“I heard he married that schoolteacher lady.” Barney Jefferson—a tall redhead with a temper to match his fiery looks—shook his shaggy head sadly. “It’s a terrible day when one of our own gives in to a female. And that one in particular. It’s not just that she’s skinny. It’s worse. She has a way of lookin’ at a man as if she knows all the black secrets of his soul.”
“And disapproves,” another man added.
Lucas ignored the comments and kept pouring liquor. He’d known that he would get some ribbing about his sudden marriage, not to mention his choice of a bride. He could silence them all by telling them why he’d married, but strangely enough, he couldn’t bring himself to do that. As if by telling the truth, he would embarrass Emily. Although why he cared about her delicate feelings was beyond him.
“She ain’t so bad,” Hep told the crowd collected around the bar.
The old miner was on the far side of sixty. Small and wiry, he’d worked the mountain most of his life without ever once striking it rich. Now age and pain in his bones kept him from his chosen profession. Hep was honest and a hard worker, so Lucas gave him small jobs to tide him over through the cold Colorado winters.
“What do you know about the schoolteacher?” Mangus demanded.
Hep raised his chin and stared up at the man more than a foot taller and nearly two score younger. “She taught me some learning last winter. My letters and my numbers.” The old man flushed slightly at the confession but kept on talking. “I’d tried before, but figured I didn’t have a head for it. Miss Smythe—” he shot a look at Lucas and amended the title “—Mrs. MacIntyre was real patient and now I can read.”
Lucas frowned. He hadn’t known that prim Emily had ever bothered with the likes of old Hep. Maybe she wasn’t as spinsterish as he’d thought. Damn. Until Hep had said something to defend her, Lucas had been content to let the men talk themselves out. Now he had to speak up.
“Emily MacIntyre is my wife,” he said to the crowd. “I’m proud to have her as my bride. Anyone who says a word against her is going to answer to me.”
He spoke the words easily, but their meaning was clear. He wasn’t a man to go looking for a fight, but he wasn’t afraid of one if it found him, and he generally left his opponent much the worse for wear.
Everyone got very quiet. Mangus and Barney avoided his gaze while Hep looked pleased.
“I’m sure she’s very nice,” Mangus muttered into his beer.
In the silence Lucas heard the sound of people climbing the steps leading to the second story. Emily had three men hauling trunks and boxes up to her new hotel. How many things could she have and how long was this going to take? He had a sudden sense of having gotten more than he’d bargained for when he married Emily that morning. Perhaps he’d better go see what she was up to.
* * *
An unexpected delivery, not to mention a brawl over a “friendly” card game, delayed Lucas’s trip upstairs until nearly three that afternoon. He left Perry in charge and made his way up the rear stairs to the top story of his saloon.
The men Emily had hired had finished a couple of hours before. He found the rear door propped wide and dozens of boxes and trunks open in the large foyer area. Curtains, sheets, blankets and lace things that looked unfamiliar were stacked together in foot-high bundles. A stiff breeze attested to the open windows in all the rooms and he could hear banging from a far room.
He followed the sound, taking in the swept-and-washed floor and relatively clean walls. Lucas had never paid much attention to the upstairs of his saloon, but obviously this section of the building had been intended as a hotel all along. In addition to the foyer, he counted fifteen bedrooms, two linen closets and a small office just off the built-in reception desk.
Most of the rooms had at least a bed frame and a dresser. Some even had wallpaper. As he came to the end of the hall, he heard a sneeze, followed by a ladylike sniff.
“Em?” he called.
“In here.”
He turned to his right and found himself in a large bedroom overlooking the main road. The bed was large and, unlike the others in the hotel, covered with a feather mattress thick enough to make Miss Cherry’s girls envious. Emily had already hung crisp white lace curtains at the windows. She was in the process of hanging blue velvet drapes over the curtains. On the high dresser stood a basin and pitcher sitting on a lace table runner. A gild-edged mirror hung opposite the window. There was a rocker in the corner and two table lamps, pillows on the bed, along with sheets, blankets and a coverlet in deep blue.
“I just can’t…” Emily’s voice trailed off as she tried to reach the last hook of the drapes.
“Allow me.”
He motioned for her to step off the stool, then he reached up and slid the hook into place. When he was finished, he glanced around the room again because it was much easier than looking at the woman he’d just married.
“It’s very nice,” he told her.
Emily gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for both the assistance and the compliment.” She picked up the stool and surveyed her handiwork. “I have enough linens for fifteen beds, although only mattresses for five. I’ve ordered the rest. I’ve also ordered more lamps, towels.” She paused, then shrugged. “By the end of the day I’ll have at least five rooms for rent. More tomorrow.”
She led the way into the hall. “And speaking of customers, I want to talk with you about getting a sign. Something elegant. I thought I would put it on the side of the building, pointing to the rear stairs. Is that all right with you?”
“Order as many signs as you’d like.”
“One should be sufficient,” she said, moving into the bedroom next door. He followed.
Twenty-four hours ago he’d barely known that Emily Smythe was alive. Now she was his wife. He’d also learned that she was a tough negotiator, a hard worker and that she’d taught old Hep how to read, although he couldn’t for the life of him imagine where the two of them had ever met up long enough for her to offer assistance and Hep to accept.
Lucas glanced around and saw a feather mattress placed neatly in the bed frame. Folded linens sat on top. Two open boxes stood on the floor, one containing curtains and drapes while the other held a basin and two lanterns. Afternoon sunlight sparkled through a clean glass window.
He’d ordered his men upstairs the previous day. They’d swept out the place and had washed it down, but it never would have occurred to them to clean a window. Emily must have done that herself.
“You’ve been busy,” he said, pointing to the glass.
“I didn’t do them all,” she told him. “Just the ones in the rooms I can get ready tonight. It’s going to take me a few days to get things in order.”
He tapped his toe against one of the open boxes. “Where’d you get all this? You have enough to fill a couple of houses.”
She set down her stool, bent over the box with the drapes and pulled out the lace curtains. “Or one very large one.”
He didn’t understand. “Did you cart all this west with you?”
“Some of it. The rest my parents shipped to me.”
When she reached for the stool, he grabbed it and the curtains from her. “I’ll do that,” he grumbled. “No sense in you breaking your neck on the first day we’re married.” Although he couldn’t believe he’d just volunteered to hang drapes. Hell, he had a business to run. He didn’t have time to stay up here with Emily. Yet he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave.
She pulled out a lace table runner from the box with the basin and put it onto the long, low dresser in this slightly small room. While Lucas fumbled with the curtains, she put the bowl and basin in place and assembled the lamps. He inhaled the scent of oil as she filled them, then something floral. He glanced over her shoulder and saw her tucking lace sachets into each drawer.
“The businessmen won’t appreciate that smell,” he said.
“They’ll like bugs even less. When I’m sure the drawers are pest-free, I’ll take out the sachets.”
He reached for the length of velvet drapes. These were a deep burgundy. He noticed the coverlet matched. “Come on, Emily, tell me the truth. Why do you have all this? Was a hotel your plan from the beginning? And if that’s the case, why’d you come to town as a teacher?”
She busied herself with making the bed. “I didn’t plan on a hotel from the beginning. I really wanted to be a teacher. I liked the idea of starting a new life in Colorado. It’s so beautiful here. I’ve never seen anything like the mountains in winter.”
“Uh-huh.”
He finished with the drapes and leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. “Just say you’re not going to answer the question. Don’t avoid it like a preacher avoiding sin.”
She glanced at him, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“Absolutely.”
She had a nice smile, he thought, wondering why he hadn’t noticed it the day before. And while she was still a skinny thing, when she bent over the bed like she was doing now, he could see that she wasn’t quite as lacking in curves as he’d thought. Her bosoms were small enough that she could never get a job at Miss Cherry’s, but they were a mouthful and sometimes that was plenty.
Lucas realized the dangerous trail his thoughts had taken and quickly jerked them back into safety. No sir, he did not plan to find his wife anything but convenient.
Her smile faded. She sat on the edge of the unmade bed and for the first time her back wasn’t stiff and straight. In fact, her shoulders seemed a mite slumped.
“My family sent me these things,” she said, motioning to the contents of the trunk. “They’re to help me get settled. You see, this is the West and everyone knows there’s a shortage of women. My parents assumed that even I could find a husband.”
Except she hadn’t, he thought. He didn’t count.
“Did you want to get married?” he asked.
“I thought I might, but it’s not really important to me. I have other plans. My establishment.”
“Your what?”
Light entered her blue eyes. They were a lovely color, he thought absently. The color of a summer sky.
“I want to open a school to train women so they’re not so dependent on men.”
He frowned. “I thought women liked being dependent on men. You want them to learn a trade?”
“That’s part of it, but not all of it. I want them to learn to count on themselves. To be strong. I’m fortunate. I knew early I wasn’t going to get married and I didn’t want to stay in my father’s house forever. Coming west solved many problems for me. But not everyone can do that. What about the women who don’t have the education, or who don’t know how to make their way in the world? What about women who are widows, or whose fathers or husbands are cruel?”
“Who was cruel to you?” he asked softly.
She sprang to her feet and busied herself with the sheets on the bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My family is ever so kind. My father especially. He was proud of me. When I was little, he used to take me into the office with him and teach me the business. He had a shipping company. Quite successful.”
She smoothed the sheets across the bed. He thought about helping her but figured she would get nervous if the two of them were too close to a bed. After all, she hadn’t even been willing to kiss him at the end of their wedding ceremony. He wondered if Emily had ever been kissed and if she had, who’d been the man brave enough to scale her resolve.
“So why’d you leave?”
“I told you, I…” She pressed her lips together. After giving the sheets one last flick with her hand, she crossed to the window, pushed aside the drapes and stared out at the street.
“I have two younger sisters,” she said quietly. “They’re not very smart, but that isn’t important. They’re both lovely, very accomplished.”
“But your father never took them to the office with him.”
“No.” As she spoke, she continued to gaze out the window. “My mother was thrilled with their social success all the while she despaired of ever finding me a husband. I didn’t really mind.” She gave a small shrug. “My father and I were very close. As long as he adored me, I knew everything would be fine. As silly as it sounds, I used to dream about joining the family business.” She touched the glass. “It would have been better if I’d been born a boy.”
“Not for me,” Lucas told her. “Uncle Simon was real specific about us taking wives.”
She managed to give him a slight smile. “It doesn’t matter. I wasn’t born a boy and one night, at a musical, I met a young man who seemed more interested in talking to me than staring at my beautiful sisters. David was kind and intelligent. He worked for my father.”
Lucas stiffened slightly. He had a bad feeling he knew where the story was going. He doubted it ended well for Emily.
“David and I grew close and then he proposed.”
“Did you accept?”
“I thought about it. I didn’t really love him, but we got along and I doubted I would do better. Then I made the mistake of asking him to tell me the truth. Did his proposal have anything to do with my father’s business?”
She paused. “I have to respect David for being honest. David told me that my father had offered him a percentage of the company if he married me and we had children.” She tilted her head to the side. “My father was a good businessman. He wanted to make sure that David intended to make our marriage a real one.”
Unlike theirs, Lucas thought. “So you get your negotiating abilities from him.”
She flashed him a quick smile that nearly hid the pain in her eyes. “Yes, I did.” She returned her attention to the window. “After I learned the truth, I knew I couldn’t possibly accept David’s proposal. He tried to change my mind, to tell me that we were good friends and wasn’t that enough. But it wasn’t. I was still young and foolish enough to believe there was more available to me.”
Lucas felt awkward hearing about her past. He didn’t want to know that she’d been wounded by the people most charged with loving her. He didn’t want to know that their short marriage of convenience was something similar to what she’d been offered before.
“Once David and I broke things off, I knew I had to leave,” she said. “There aren’t many options open to an unmarried woman, so I took a teaching position to allow me time to think about my future. Over the past year or so, I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to open an establishment for women, as we’ve already discussed. And that, Mr. MacIntyre, is my entire history.”
He didn’t know what to say about her past, so he chose something more simple to comment upon. “So you won’t keep the hotel once you have the funds you require?”
“No. Depending on how successful I am, I’m planning to stay here two years, three at most. In the meantime, I’m sure I’ll enjoy my work. There is the appeal of my future plans, not to mention the fact that this floor is entirely mine to do with as I please.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t burn down the place.”
She turned to face him. “I will do my best to avoid that circumstance. But you are missing the point. As a man, you’ve had many homes that are entirely yours. But as a woman I first lived with my family, then rented a room in an attic. I could never come and go as I wished. People watched, judged, offered opinions. Now I am entirely an independent woman.”
He considered her words. “I’ve never thought that women don’t have the same freedoms as men.”
“Why would you? Your life is not one of restriction and rules.” She waved a hand. “There are laws, of course, but I’m not speaking of the freedom to commit a crime. I simply want to be in control of my life to the extent my abilities will allow. I do not want to be controlled or dictated to because I am a woman.”
Lucas had known from the moment he’d become aware of her existence that Emily was a spinster. She was probably twenty-five or twenty-six, which wasn’t so old that she had to give up the possibility of marriage, but old enough for everyone to know that she’d been passed over. He’d known other spinsters in his life, but he’d never once thought about their fate. Society didn’t care if a man waited to marry, but he could see that it was particularly cruel to plain, unmarried women. Without skills and resources, those women had to rely on the whims of fate and the goodness of their families for their very livelihoods.
Emily had the advantage of brains, education and determination. Many others would not be so fortunate.
He nodded slightly. “I’m proud to be a part of your plan, Em. If I can help make the hotel a success, I’ll do what I can.”
This time her smile was genuine. She pressed her fingers together. “You’ve already done so much, sending your men to help me get the rooms ready, agreeing to let me be here in the first place. I do appreciate that.”
Sunlight drifted through a crack in the drapes. It caught the side of her head and added a golden luster to her tightly drawn back hair. He had a sudden desire to know how far her hair tumbled down her back and what it would feel like in his hands. Would it be thick and heavy? Was there any kind of curl or wave?
Her skin was very lovely, he thought, moving his gaze to her face. Her eyes were wide, her mouth full. When she wasn’t standing all stiff and looking disapproving, she was nearly attractive. Almost pretty, in a stern sort of way.
He noticed that she had delicate bones more suited to soft fabrics and feminine styles, not the thick wools and serviceable dresses she favored. If she would try a different color of clothes, or loosen her hair a little.
“Lucas, what on earth are you thinking? You have the most peculiar expression on your face.”
“You don’t want to know,” he said, compelled to take a step toward her.
He was going to kiss her. He didn’t know why and he thought he should probably stop himself before he got started. Yet he didn’t want to stop himself. He wondered what her lips would taste like and how she would feel in his arms. It was idiocy. Worse, it was stupid and, with Emily’s spinster sensibilities, potentially dangerous. However they were married and this was his wedding day. Was it so wrong to expect his bride to be willing to offer him a kiss?
Before he halted himself with a dose of good sense, he stepped toward her and placed his hands on her waist. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. She was as still as a carving. Before she could change her mind and dart away, he drew her body against his, lowered his mouth and pressed his lips to hers.
* * *
Had Emily known what Lucas was about she would have stopped him. At least that’s what she told herself in the single heartbeat of conscious thought she had between the time he put his hands on her person and when he, well, kissed her.
Then his lips were on hers and she was too confused to think or speak or even breathe. His mustache tickled…in the most charming way. He was touching her waist. Despite her layers of clothing, she could feel the heat of his fingers clear to her skin. His thumb slipped up and down, sending the oddest skittering sensation rippling through her torso. But even more strange than that was the feel of his kiss.
It was more gentle than she would have imagined, had she been the kind of woman who thought of such things. Like his hands, his lips were warm and almost—she struggled to find a word, which was difficult because her brain was so fuzzy—almost tender. Soft and lovely, yet firm as he moved against her, brushing back and forth.
She supposed she should have been horrified and insulted. She should have stepped back, and she would in a moment or two. But as this was her first kiss, she thought she should understand the entire act before deciding that she didn’t like it.
She could feel the heat of his body and inhale the masculine scent of him. There were fragrances of different liquors and a bit of smoke, plus something spicy and intriguing, quite unlike any smell she’d inhaled before.
His hands moved around to her back and slid up toward her shoulder blades. His action forced her more firmly against him and suddenly they were pressing from shoulder to…to limb! Her arms, which had been resting at her sides, suddenly stiffened. All of her stiffened. A chaste kiss was one thing, but such intimacies as these were completely unacceptable.
She was about to tell him so when he did the most extraordinary thing. He touched the tip of his tongue to her lower lip.
Had anyone described such a thing to Emily, she would have been horrified and disgusted. The thought of it should have made her stomach turn. It was just too…
Warm, she thought, feeling herself melting. The sensation was most peculiar, but there was no other way to describe her body bending and leaning toward him as if she’d lost all her strength. Her limbs felt very heavy and she couldn’t have moved if God himself had requested the action.
Lucas continued to stroke her in that strange way and she found herself liking it more. Tingling began in her arms and moved through her, making her—dared she think it?—chest ache as if her insides were suddenly pushing against her skin. Her limbs and that part of her she didn’t even like to acknowledge, the female part of her, felt heavy and thick, which made no sense.
But what did sense have to do with anything? Nothing made sense. She didn’t even protest when Lucas ran his hands down her arms until their fingers entwined. She let him raise her arms until her palms rested on his shoulders.
She couldn’t believe it. They were touching and kissing and pressing and her hands were squeezing his powerful shoulders and she found herself wanting to run her fingers through his hair and have this never ever stop. Except they had to stop and she would tell him so—in another minute or two.
His tongue swept across the seam of her lips.
“Come on, Em, let me in. You’ll like it.”
She had no idea what he was talking about and opened her mouth to tell him so. But instead of allowing her to speak, he pushed his tongue inside until it was touching hers.
She felt as if someone had lit her on fire. Heat filled her body. The trembling and tingling increased and she knew she was going to perish from all the different feelings in her person.
Aroused and more than a little scared, Emily managed to press her hands against his chest and push him away.
“Stop,” she demanded, except her voice sounded breathless and far too weak.
Instead of looking mortified, Lucas MacIntyre actually smiled at her. A look of male satisfaction crossed his too-handsome features.
He took a step back and looked her up and down. “You are something of a surprise, Em. I didn’t expect you to be quite that tempting.”
His compliment both embarrassed and pleased her. She forced herself up to her full height and squared her shoulders. “I’ll thank you to remember that this is a business relationship. You are not welcome to intrude upon my person again.”
He had the audacity to wink at her. “And here I was thinking there are plenty more intrusions to be had, and I’m just the man to do every one of them.”
At that, he touched her cheek with the back of his hand, turned on his heel and walked from the room. He left her sputtering and flustered and very, very pleased by her first ever kiss.

CHAPTER FOUR (#u6aba967d-99f8-5699-a1d3-7b54fd391008)
Emily was determined to ignore “the incident,” which was how she thought of the kiss she and Lucas had shared the previous day. Memories of the feel of him pressing against her, the sweet taste of him and the way he’d been so bold as to touch her tongue with his had kept her up most of the night. But she’d risen as early as ever, determined to get her hotel ready for business as soon as possible.
Now, as she worked in the fifth bedroom, she fought against the tingling in her body by instead thinking about how good it had felt to have her own room in her own hotel. When the business was a success, it would be because of her hard work and vision. She was responsible. Which meant it was her fault if the hotel failed, but she wasn’t going to let that happen.
She spread the sheets over the feather mattress and smoothed down the material. As she worked, she half listened for the sound of the bell she’d left at the front desk, along with a note to ring for her if someone wanted a room. Bart Miller had already started work on the sign for the hotel, so maybe that would send some business her way. Although the sign was only for folks new to town. Anyone familiar with Defiance would have already heard the gossip about her marriage to Lucas and the new hotel.
As she turned to lift the blankets from the dresser to the bed, she remembered how Lucas’s hands had felt on her back and the way his lips had—
“Stop it,” she said aloud. “Don’t think about that anymore.”
Emily shook herself in an effort to dislodge the memories that seemed firmly stuck in her head. But while her brain was willing to listen, her body wasn’t cooperating at all. Even when she didn’t see Lucas in her mind, she could feel the strength and heat of him when they’d touched.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked herself.
Was this all because Lucas had been the first man to kiss her? Or was it because she wanted to know why he’d bothered?
Emily paused in her work and turned to face the mirror hung over the narrow dresser. She saw her familiar face. A plain face whose only hope of beauty came from a pair of large, blue eyes. But as she didn’t know how to draw attention to that particular feature, it got lost in the rest of her.
Had he felt sorry for her? The question made her shiver, and not in a pleasant way. She shouldn’t have told Lucas the truth about her past, except she never lied. So she should have stayed silent. Instead, the words had fallen out of her mouth before she could stop them. As she returned her attention to the covers on the bed, she suddenly realized why.
She was lonely. She’d been lonely for a long time. Certainly, when she’d first moved to Defiance, she’d missed her family. With time, her work at the school and the few acquaintances she’d made had eased the pain of being in a strange place. But then the children had left with their families and she found that her few acquaintances weren’t enough. She could go several days without exchanging more than just pleasant greetings. There was no one she could really talk to or confide in. Still, telling Lucas about her past and her humiliation with David hadn’t been very sensible. Obviously she would need to make more of an effort to develop friends in town. She would see to that as soon as she’d finished getting the hotel ready.
Emily tucked in the blankets, then drew the green coverlet over the made bed. She should have the rest of the rooms finished by the end of next week. Then all she would need was—
The sound of a bell cut through her musings. Emily froze as excitement gripped her. Someone—perhaps a customer—had rung the bell at the front desk. This could be the beginning of her success, she thought happily as she walked down the length of the hallway and turned left by the reception desk.
She slipped smoothly behind the counter, cleared her throat and glanced up at the person waiting to speak with her. Her greeting lodged in the back of her throat.
The woman standing in front of her was tall, several inches taller than herself. Her thick brown hair coiled around her head in an intricate arrangement of curls and knots, decorated with sprays of silk flowers, and was topped by a huge red hat. A dark smudgy line above her lashes emphasized her big, beautiful brown eyes and there was no denying the color staining her full lips.
Emily blinked, then swallowed. The woman in front of her did not disappear into a dream, as Emily had hoped. She remained firmly in place. Everything about the woman overwhelmed her. The stylish hair, her full bosom expertly displayed by a low-cut red velvet gown. Swags of fabric settled over rounded hips. Everything about the woman was excessively feminine. She was as lush as a ripe peach and, from the knowing look in her large eyes, she understood the impact she had on those she met.
Emily had never been so close to a woman like the one standing in front of her. Society dictated that she didn’t even acknowledge her existence. Although with the woman leaning toward her reception desk, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to ignore her.
“I’m Dixie,” the woman said in a low voice that was surprisingly cultured. She might be living in Defiance now, but she’d been born somewhere else. “I heard you were opening a hotel. I’d like to rent a room.”
“A—a room?”
Emily bit her lower lip. This was not a situation she could have foreseen. While she wanted to fill the hotel as quickly as possible, she wasn’t interested in offering a location for expansion for the likes of Miss Cherry and her girls.
“I’m not sure what you were told,” Emily said formally. “This is a private hotel. My guests—” or the guests she would soon have “—are honest people who keep to themselves.”
“That’s just what I want, honey,” Dixie drawled, and set a handful of gold coins on the desk. “I’m paying a month in advance. I’d like your most private room in this private hotel. And you can stop biting your lip. I’m not here to work. I’m here for some quiet.”
The tall, beautiful woman offered a smile. “Over at Miss Cherry’s there’s never a moment’s peace. Men are in and out of the place at all hours. They’re forever knocking on my door. I don’t mind working hard, which I do, but when I’m finished for the night, I want to be left alone.”
Emily didn’t know what to say. She glanced from the money to the woman standing in front of her. She knew what Dixie did to earn that money. Well, she didn’t know exactly, but she had an idea. It had something to do with men and women being together.
“Are you frightened of me?” Dixie asked bluntly. “Do you think I’ll corrupt you or try to seduce your other guests?”
Emily felt herself blush. From the heat on her face, she could imagine her cheeks were bright red. Still, she kept her head high. “Not at all,” she lied.
“I won’t do either,” Dixie promised. “Although I can’t speak for the ladies in town. They might not approve of you catering to the likes of me. However, I’m paying in advance, I pay in gold and I won’t make any trouble.”
Emily reached for the blank registration book, turned it toward the woman and pointed to the first line. “If you would be so kind as to sign here,” she said. “Then I’ll show you to your room, Miss, ah…”
“Just Dixie. If we’re going to be passing in the hall every day, I don’t see any point in being formal, do you?”
“No. Of course not.”
She glanced at Dixie’s signature, then put her money into the strongbox at the bottom of the desk. When she straightened, she studied the keys hanging on the hooks attached to the wall behind her.
“The front bedroom is a little larger,” she said, more to herself than her guest. “But you’ll have street noise. If you’re interested in quiet more than space, I have a lovely room at the back.” She looked at Dixie. “Let me show you these two rooms and you pick the one you like best.”
“Good idea.”
Dixie crossed to the stairs and called down. Instantly there were the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Three young men appeared, each carrying a trunk, followed by two boys with large carpetbags.
Emily knew that the luggage contained more lovely dresses like the red one Dixie wore this afternoon. So much finery, she thought as she led the way down the hall. Beautiful clothes in soft, elegant fabrics. She fingered her own gray wool skirt and remembered a time when she’d worn pretty things. Nothing as spectacular as Dixie’s dress, to be sure, but still nicer than her current garb.
But once Emily had decided to go west, she’d decided it was more important to be sensible than fashionable. She’d had her gray dresses made up. Lighter for spring and summer, darker for winter. The color didn’t show the dirt and the fabrics lasted forever. Sensible, she thought again as she opened the door to the front bedroom. Now she was left to wonder if being too sensible had stolen her soul.
Dixie examined the first bedroom, then the second. She chose the latter saying, “You’re right, it’s smaller, but I prefer to be at the back, and that armoire is much bigger so I’ll be able to store my clothes.” Then she glanced at her trunks and bags and laughed. “Maybe I should take a second room for them.”
Before Emily could answer, she heard the bell ring. She excused herself and hurried toward the reception desk. Two businessmen stood there. They were, they said, from Baltimore and needed two rooms for two nights.
Excitement filled Emily as she had the men sign her register. She only had five rooms to let and already three of them were full. The hotel was going to be a success, she thought happily. She was going to realize her dream.
* * *
“I understand you’re full for the night,” Lucas said as he walked into the reception area.
It was nearly six that evening and Emily hadn’t seen him all day. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since the “incident” the previous afternoon. She was instantly embarrassed and determined not to show it.
“Yes, we’re full,” she said. “I have two businessmen, two miners and—” This time she couldn’t stop the blush from climbing her cheeks. “And someone else.”
Lucas, so tall and handsome in his dark trousers, white shirt and bottle green vest, leaned against her registration desk and raised his eyebrows.
“I heard about Dixie,” he said. “I was surprised.”
“I don’t care if you don’t approve,” she told him. “This is my business, not yours. I pay you a percentage of the money I make, however you are not my partner. You don’t get to express your opinion on the day-to-day handling of things.”
“I think you’ve got yourself a runaway horse.” Lucas leaned toward her and gave her a smile. The one that turned her knees to jelly. “I said I was surprised. That’s different from not approving. Dixie is a fine lady, despite her occupation.”
Emily didn’t want to think about how the man she’d married had come to know whether or not Dixie was a fine lady or a harpy. Nor did she feel comfortable with a conversation that might detail Dixie’s “occupation.”
“All right,” she murmured. “The point is, until I get the rest of the rooms ready, I’m full. We need to discuss how often you wish to look at my ledgers. I thought perhaps weekly would be acceptable. Once you approve of the totals, I will deposit your share into the bank. Or would you prefer me to give it to you directly?”
“The bank is fine.” He leaned a little closer. “As to looking at your ledgers, that’s not necessary. I trust you, Em. We’re married.”
She did not want to think about that. “You don’t know me. I could be dishonest.”
He laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Dishonest women don’t kiss the way you did yesterday.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but there weren’t any words. How could he speak of the incident? How could he tease her and…and…
“I’m about to have supper,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”
The change in subject made her head spin. She was still reeling from his mention of the incident and he was inviting her to a meal?
Of course she was going to tell him no, but before she could she found she really wanted to dine with him. She wanted to talk to him and listen to him talk to her. She wanted to put on a pretty dress—not that she had any—and have him compliment her. She wanted—
“I can’t,” she said flatly, knowing her disappointment showed.
“Why not? Do you have a secret sweetheart? We’re married. I won’t tolerate you sparking with other men.”
She dismissed him with a flick of her hand, and had to blink back a burning sensation in her eyes. Tears? Over not being able to join Lucas for dinner? Impossible!
“I can’t leave the desk,” she said. “I don’t have any employees.”
He glanced around at the reception area. “Well, I’ll be. For someone who prides herself on making a plan, it looks like you forgot one important thing.”
“I know. It just slipped my mind.”
He straightened. “You going to sit at that desk, day and night?”
“No. I’ll think of something. But in the meantime, I can’t join you for supper.”
He reached forward and lightly touched the tip of her nose. “That’s where you’re wrong. You can’t join me for supper, but I can bring supper to you.” He gave her a wink. “Don’t you go anywhere.”
Emily stared after him as he walked downstairs. Lucas was being nice to her and she wanted to know why. Not that she expected him to ignore her or to be rude, but somehow she hadn’t thought he would go out of his way to spend an evening meal with her. Perhaps she would ask him.
When Lucas returned with a basket of fried chicken, biscuits and several other dishes, she had cleared her desk and stretched a crisp white tablecloth across the surface. He poured them each a glass of what he claimed was “apple cider, not apple brandy” then settled on the straight-backed chair she’d found for him.
The hotel was quiet, with all her guests having gone out for the evening. The businessmen were dining at the restaurant three doors down, while the miners were in the saloon. Emily didn’t want to think about where Dixie had disappeared to or what she was doing there. Because thinking about Dixie being with men made Emily wonder if Lucas had ever been with her in that way? It also reminded her of the incident, which she was trying to forget, although that was difficult, what with him sitting so close and smiling at her as she served up his chicken.
“This is very kind of you,” she said, motioning to the food. “I didn’t think we would be seeing each other like this.”
He took a drink of his cider. “We’re married, Em. Don’t you think we should share a meal?”
“Is that why you’re here? Because you want people to think we have a regular marriage?”
He grinned. “You’ve spent the last two nights alone. I don’t think anyone believes we have a regular marriage.”
“Oh.”
Emily hadn’t considered that. She’d spent her wedding night in her narrow room above the bakery, and he’d spent his in the small house he had shared with his uncle. Last night she’d been alone in the hotel.
He bit into his chicken and chewed. After he’d swallowed, he wiped his fingers on his napkin. “Were you shocked when Dixie appeared and asked for a room?”
Emily ducked her head. “Yes, of course. I didn’t know her name, but I knew…” She cleared her throat. “At first I thought she wanted a room for her, um—”
“Activities,” he offered helpfully.
She ignored that. “However she explained she wanted peace and privacy, both of which I can offer.”
“Dixie’s not so bad. I don’t guess you two can be friends, but she’s not an evil person.”
Emily thought about her impression of the beautiful woman. “How long has she been in Defiance? With her voice and her manners, I thought she might be from somewhere back East.”
“She arrived about five years ago.” Lucas hesitated. “As for her past, you’ll have to ask her.”
Emily wondered if he didn’t know about Dixie or if he was respecting a confidence. She looked at the man sitting across from her. Even seated, he was tall. His white shirt emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. She found her attention lingering on his silky mustache and remembered the feel of it yesterday when he’d kissed her.
Had she thought about being kissed by a man with a mustache, she would have assumed the experience would be unpleasant, but it hadn’t been at all. She’d liked the way the surprisingly soft hairs had tickled her skin. For one frightening moment, she imagined him kissing other parts of her, such as her neck, and shivered at the thought of the teasing caress.
Emily stiffened. She would not allow herself to continue to think of the incident, nor would she imagine other familiarities. What was wrong with her? She was not the kind of woman who wasted her time daydreaming about a man.
She drew her attention back to the dinner and tried to remember what they’d been talking about. Ah, yes. Dixie and how long she’d lived in Defiance. Not a subject for polite conversation.
“Before, you had mentioned you’ve lived here nearly all your life,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah. I guess I was about five when Uncle Simon brought us here. Back then there wasn’t a town, just a couple of miner’s shacks and a big tent where an old man sold supplies.”
“Your brother lives outside of town, doesn’t he? I don’t recall seeing him more than once or twice.”
“He keeps to himself. He’s got a house up by the mine.”
“That’s right. I remember you telling me about the mine when you explained your current predicament.”
He grinned at her. “Why use a two-bit word when a dollar one works as well, right, Emily?”
She sipped her cider. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t have a ‘predicament,’ I have a problem. Or a barrel full of trouble.”
She felt awkward and foolish. “I’m sorry if my vocabulary discomforts you.”
“It doesn’t, but I think you should start loosening up. This isn’t the schoolroom and you’re not my teacher. Although if you wanted to tell me I was bad and give me a good paddling, I might be interested.”
She had no idea what he was talking about and a complete certainty that he was teasing her, but she was too embarrassed to speak. Paddle Lucas? Why would he suggest such a thing? And why did the idea of even getting close to touching that part of him make her feel strange inside?
“We were discussing your brother,” she said coolly, and hoped he wouldn’t notice how difficult it was for her to speak normally when all she wanted to do was cover her face and run from the room. “You mentioned you’d sent for a mail-order bride for him.”
“That’s right.” Lucas smiled at her in such a way that she knew he was letting her off easy.
“I never had a brother. It must be very pleasant to have that sort of familial relationship.”
Lucas looked as if he was going to tease her about her word choices again, but he didn’t. Instead he said, “It was. We got into trouble all the time while we were growing up.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was.”
When he didn’t volunteer any more information, they ate in silence.
Lucas finished the last of his meal, then wiped his hands on his napkin.
“How interested are you in helping downtrodden women?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“You’re going to need help around this place, with the cleaning, running errands and the like. I know a couple of young women looking for a job.”
“What young women?”
His dark eyes turned angry. “Alice and Mary. I don’t know how old they are. Alice might be fifteen and her sister is a couple of years younger. They don’t have any family and they need jobs.”
Emily wanted to protest that they were children—far too young to be working for a living. But then she remembered that some children were forced into the world by circumstances. If they had no one to support them, they would soon starve. At least by working for her, the girls would be safe. Their duties around the hotel wouldn’t tax them overly much and she could teach them if they hadn’t had much education.
“I’d like to meet them,” she told Lucas.
“I’ll bring them by later.” He rose. “Thank you for supper.”
“Don’t thank me. You’re the one who brought the food.”
“Yes, but you provided the company.”
With that he was gone and Emily was left to stare after him. She didn’t begin to understand her handsome husband. Not his words, his actions or how he made her feel just by being in the same room. But she liked him. He made her laugh. He seemed to enjoy teasing her and she enjoyed his attentions.
She thought about the “incident” and wondered if it was on his mind as well. As he’d been leaving, she’d half hoped he would do that again. He hadn’t. Just as well, she told herself. She was not the kind of woman to dally with a man…although if she found herself in need of a dalliance, Lucas MacIntyre would be the man she chose.
* * *
Lucas returned shortly after nine. Trailing behind him were two overly slender girls in worn cloaks. Their eyes were large, their skin pale and Emily read the fear in their expressions.
“Alice and Mary, meet Emily MacIntyre.”
The older of the two tried to smile. “Ma’am.”
Like her younger sister, Alice had bright red hair and green eyes. The two girls held hands, clinging to each other as if they had no one else in the world.
Emily moved around the desk and approached the girls. “How old are you?” she asked.
Alice spoke for them both. “I’m fifteen. Mary is thirteen. We’re hard workers, ma’am,” she added. “We’re both stronger than we look. I can scrub and clean. Mary’s real patient when it comes to ironing and she knows some cooking.”
“Good.” Emily glanced at her husband. “Have they eaten recently?”
“About an hour ago.”
She returned her attention to the girls. “I think we should talk about work in the morning. Right now you two need some sleep.”
She showed them to a small room next to her own. She’d made it up quickly after dinner. The fresh mattress had been delivered just that afternoon. Emily had added a pretty pink coverlet and drapes, along with a pansy-covered basin.
Alice and Mary stared at the small room, then Alice shook her head. “Ma’am, this is too nice for us.”
Emily took in the plain walls, the stains she’d been unable to scrub out on the floor and the skinny dresser. She’d been hesitant about renting out the room because it was so small and the window didn’t offer a view of anything nicer than the building across the street.
Emily touched Alice’s thin shoulder. “I was about to apologize because it wasn’t nice enough. You and Mary are safe here. Get ready for bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
With that, she left the sisters alone and shut the door behind herself.
She found Lucas waiting by the reception desk. “Where did you find them?”
The anger she’d noticed before returned to his eyes. “Their father tried to sell them to Cherry earlier in the week. She took the girls in because it was obvious he was going to get rid of them one way or the other. She’s been trying to find a place for them ever since.”
Emily didn’t know what to say. She’d never heard of such a thing. Did fathers really sell their daughters into service to men? Was it possible?
“That can’t be legal,” she insisted.
He shrugged. “But it happens. Cherry thought they might be able to clean at her place, but Alice is too pretty to go unnoticed and Cherry was afraid someone would get drunk and hurt the girl. She mentioned the problem to me and I thought you might be willing to help.”
Emily wanted to know what Lucas had been doing talking to that woman. Had he been at her place of business, and if so, why? She reminded herself that theirs was simply a marriage of convenience and she shouldn’t care if her husband took his person elsewhere. But the words didn’t ease the ache she felt in her stomach or the way her throat started to hurt.
“I’m sure the girls and I can come to some kind of agreement about employment,” she said stiffly. “I need assistance here and I think they’ll enjoy the work. I’ll pay them a fair wage. If they save, they can leave Defiance and start over elsewhere in time.”
He stepped closer to her. “You surprise me,” he told her.
“Why?”
“I thought you might be shocked and insulted to have those girls here.”
“You forget I rented a room to Dixie. Mary and Alice are hardly more shocking than that.”
“I know. When I heard what you’d done for Dixie, I figured I might have misjudged you.” His dark eyes seemed to stare into her soul. “You’re not at all what I imagined.”
“You mean I’m not a prim schoolteacher who uses dollar words when two-bit ones will do?”
“Oh, you’re all that, but you’re also growing on me.” He looked thoughtful. “Who would have thought.” Then he leaned close and brushed his lips against her cheek. “You’re not a bad kisser, either, Mrs. MacIntyre. One of these days we’ll have to do it again.”

CHAPTER FIVE (#u6aba967d-99f8-5699-a1d3-7b54fd391008)
Alice and Mary were waiting for Emily when she walked out into the reception area the next morning. They had been seated on the worn red sofa she’d rescued from a back bedroom—one that desperately needed recovering but was the only one she had. The two girls, looking just as young, thin and frightened as they had the night before, sprang to their feet and gave her awkward little bobs of their heads.
“Good morning,” Emily said cheerfully. “You two are up early.”
Alice, the older and taller of the two, cleared her throat. “Yes, ma’am. We didn’t know what time you wanted us to start.”
Emily glanced at the small watch she’d pinned to the bodice of her serviceable gray gown. It was barely after seven.
“Not as early as this,” she told them. She motioned the girls back to the sofa, then settled into the chair opposite them.
“I would like you both to start at eight,” she said, speaking as kindly as she knew how. “You’re to have Sundays and a half day on Wednesday for yourselves. I’ll provide the meals.” She paused and smiled. “Actually, Mrs. Martin will provide the meals at her restaurant, but I’ll pay for them. You may dine there or have your food delivered here, as I do. Oh, and there’s a small kitchen in the office. I’ll show it to you. Please use that for tea or snacks.”
Emily could see both girls listening attentively. She longed to ask how they’d survived so far and what had happened to their mother. But she wasn’t going to pry. With time and luck, the girls would begin to trust her. Until then, she could only offer a safe haven and hope they would begin to lose some of their fear.
“What I would like from you both is simple cleaning of the guest rooms.” She went on to detail the things to be done, then named a salary. “I’ll pay you twice a month, on the first and the fifteenth. When you receive your first pay, we’ll go to the bank and I’ll show you how to begin an account.”
She turned her attention to Alice. The older girl wore her long red hair pulled back into a thick braid. Her green eyes were wide as she listened and nodded. Emily noticed that Alice’s blue dress had been carefully patched. She made a note to talk to Mrs. Bird, the pastor’s wife, about clothing the church might have to give to those in need.
She thought about mentioning that she was a teacher and would be happy to give the girls’ lessons, but perhaps there had been enough changes in their lives for one morning. They could discuss that at another time.
She also decided that she would clean Dixie’s room personally, and not ask the girls to have anything to do with it. The sight of all of Dixie’s finery might bring back unpleasant memories from their time at Miss Cherry’s.
“Do you have any questions?” she asked at the conclusion of her comments.
Mary, small and pale, bit her lower lip. “Ma’am, are you going to beat us?”
Emily’s heart tightened at the words. She’d never considered herself overly maternal, but she found herself wanting to pull both sisters into her arms and hold them tight. Instead she forced a smile.
“No. I promise I won’t. Not even if you break a pitcher or a basin.” She hesitated. “Did anyone at Miss Cherry’s beat you?”
Alice shook her head. “No, ma’am. It was our pa. Just with his belt,” she added hastily, as if that made it all right. “When we was real bad. But he didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Of course not,” Emily murmured, wishing she had the man in front of her right now. She would tell him exactly what she thought of his character. How dare he raise a belt to his daughters and then try to sell them to a brothel owner! He was not fit to be a father. Why if she were a man, she would hunt him down and—
Footsteps on the stairs interrupted her thoughts. She watched as Bertie, the lad who delivered meals for the restaurant, appeared with a large basket hanging from one arm.
“Mrs. Martin said you wanted breakfast for three,” he announced as he set the basket on the desk.
Emily rose, then ushered the girls toward her office. Before going to bed, she’d set up a small table in the far corner. It was big enough for them to eat together. By the looks of things, the sisters hadn’t been having regular meals. But now they were in her care and all that was about to change.
* * *
Emily spent the morning showing Alice and Mary how to clean the guest rooms. When the rest of the new mattresses were delivered, she started working on preparing the remaining rooms for guests. As she worked, she found herself thinking about her conversation with Lucas the previous night—specifically his assertion that she was a good kisser and that they would have to kiss again sometime.
Just thinking the words made her chest flutter in the most peculiar way. She suspected he was teasing her. Lucas did enjoy making her squirm. And yet there was a part of her that wanted to believe he meant his words. That he had been pleased by the incident and that he too was thinking about it. She wanted him to do that to her again, which should have scandalized her but didn’t. She reminded herself that they were married and therefore those kind of familiarities were acceptable, even expected. Except theirs wasn’t a regular sort of marriage.
He’d married her because of his uncle’s will. Emily paused in the act of dusting a dresser. She couldn’t let herself forget that. For Lucas, this situation was to be endured until he could claim that which he obviously cared about. And for her, the marriage was a means to an end. By marrying Lucas, she obtained the use of the hotel at a very reasonable price, along with a cash bonus when the marriage was annulled.
Emily sat on the edge of the bed. A spark of truth flared inside of her. She wanted to ignore the brightness and the accompanying revelation, but she’d always been painfully honest with herself. She didn’t pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t and she didn’t ignore either her assets or her faults. So now she stared right into the light of the truth and allowed it to illuminate the pitiful state of her heart.
She liked being married to Lucas. Yes, it had only been two days and he hadn’t spent much time with her, but she enjoyed his company. She liked dining with him in the evening and the way he teased her. She liked how his smile made her limbs tremble and the fact that he’d brought her Alice and Mary. She and Lucas had…possibilities.
“No,” she murmured aloud. “We don’t.”
Because this was a marriage of convenience, nothing more. At least nothing more to him.
Emily shook off the thoughts. So Lucas was charming. She’d only known him a short time. He would be easily forgotten when he was gone from her life.
She winced as she felt a sharp pain deep in her chest. While she was being honest with herself, she might as well admit she didn’t look forward to the day when he would want to end their marriage. She’d never thought about the marital state because she’d long assumed it would not happen to her. But now that it had, she saw it was as desirable as she’d imagined when she’d been a younger woman.
Without quite being aware of what she was doing, Emily left the bedroom, walked through the reception area, down the back stairs and into Lucas’s office. From there she made her way to the door leading to the rear of the saloon.
She cracked open the door and waited for Lucas to glance up and see her. From her position, half-hidden from the patrons of the saloon, she had a clear view of the bar and the gambling tables beyond. It was still morning and only a half dozen or so men were scattered about the room. One of the gaming tables held four players and they looked as if they’d been at it all night. She didn’t understand men’s need to gamble. The idea of wasting money on the turn of a card didn’t make sense to her. But then much of the world was beyond her comprehension. She also didn’t know why men would spend money to be with a woman. Yet they obviously did, going in and out of Miss Cherry’s at all hours.
Emily was about to change her mind and head back upstairs when Lucas turned in her direction. Any doubts she might have had about speaking with him were completely erased when he smiled and started walking toward her. At the sight of his smile, her limbs began their obligatory quivering. She felt her own lips tug in response. A light feeling seemed to flow through her, making her want to laugh.
“Good morning,” he said when he’d entered the office and closed the door behind him. “How are you this morning?”
“Well, thank you. The girls were up early. They’ve been fed and have started their work.” She found herself suddenly nervous. Coming down to see Lucas had been an impulse. Her question could have waited.
But Lucas didn’t seem inclined to leave. He simply continued to smile at her and waited for her to continue.
She found her gaze drawn to his silky mustache. She liked the way he kept it neatly trimmed. She wanted to run her fingers over the short hairs and feel the contrast between the smooth length of the hairs and the stubby ends.
Shocked by her brazen thoughts, she took a step back and forced herself to speak.
“Last night, when you invited me to dine with you, I realized I had forgotten an important aspect of running a hotel. People. Alice and Mary will take care of cleaning the rooms on a daily basis. I know who to hire for heavy cleaning, but I’m less sure about who I might employ to watch the desk at night. I thought you might have a suggestion.”
Lucas’s dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as his smile broadened. “What about Hep?”
Emily knew instantly who he meant. Hep was an old miner. The pain in his joints kept him from working his stake. He supported himself with odd jobs.
“I understand you two are already acquainted,” Lucas said. “When he found out we’d married, he mentioned that you’d taught him to read.”
“Yes. Last year. He’d replaced a broken window in the schoolhouse. I discovered him attempting to read what I’d written on the blackboard. When he admitted he couldn’t read at all, I offered to teach him.”
“Why?”
She didn’t understand the question. “It was my job.”
“Your job was to instruct the students. No one paid you to teach Hep to read.”
“I know, but I wasn’t going to send him away. So many people aren’t interested in learning. He seemed intelligent enough. Actually it didn’t take but a few months. We met every day after I dismissed the regular students.” She laced her fingers together in front of her waist. “You’re right, Lucas. He’s an excellent choice for a night desk clerk. When you next see him, would you please send him upstairs so that I may speak with him?”
He surprised her by pulling her close for a quick hug. Emily went easily into his embrace, enjoying the strength and hardness of his body against hers. She felt something brush against her hair.
“I’ll send Hep your way,” Lucas promised when he released her. “Perry doesn’t start until this afternoon. I need to get back to the saloon.”
With that, he was gone, and Emily was left staring at the spot where he’d stood just moments before. Every part of her body felt warm and alive. All that just from Lucas’s hug. Imagine how she would feel if he kissed her again? She must think of a way to make that happen, she thought happily.
* * *
“So you’re really married?” Jackson MacIntyre asked incredulously before downing a shot of whiskey.
“Nearly a week now,” Lucas told his brother. “And it’s time for you to start thinking about doing the same.”
Jackson, just as tall, big and stubborn as his brother, shook his head. “I ain’t gonna take a wife. If some lawyer wants to think the mine don’t belong to me, let him come and try to take it.” Jackson grinned. “Or better yet, let him try to move me off the land.”
With his too-long hair and untrimmed beard, Jackson looked as wild as a bear. Lucas knew his brother was also as strong as the ornery critter. Damn. Lucas was willing to take on just about any man in a fight, but with Jackson, he knew the match was nearly dead even. Which meant neither one was going to win and both of them would end up sore in the morning. He didn’t mind the pain as long as it accomplished something.
“There’s more at stake than the mine,” Lucas reminded him. “What about the saloon and the ranch?”
Jackson looked uncomfortable. “They belong to us. It’s wrong to say otherwise.”
“It might be wrong, but the terms of Uncle Simon’s will state things real clear.” Lucas tried to swallow his frustration. He leaned across the table and stared at his brother. “I’m not asking you to marry for real, just take a temporary bride for a few weeks.”
Jackson grunted. “Is that what you did? I heard you married that schoolteacher. What happened to your fancy mail-order bride?”
“She wasn’t fancy and she changed her mind.”
Jackson chuckled with amusement. “She get a look at you and turn tail?”
“She never got on the train.”
“Someone must have told her you were an ugly cuss.” He flicked his fingers toward Lucas’s bright purple vest and grinned. “She was probably worried about her husband dressing better than her. What does your bride think about you, Lucas?”
“I have no idea,” Lucas said honestly. Not that he spent much time thinking about Emily’s opinion of him. “We get along.”
Which was a surprise. He hadn’t thought about her one way or the other until he’d realized she was the answer to his problem. He still considered their marriage one of convenience. However, he found himself enjoying her company more than he would have thought possible.
“She’s a bit on the skinny side,” Jackson said, pouring himself another drink. Then he leaned back in his chair. Unlike Lucas, who always dressed in a clean white shirt, dark trousers and a colorful vest, Jackson preferred denim jeans and wool shirts. “Not real pretty and she walks like she’s got some kind of stick—”
Lucas moved with the swiftness of a rattler. One second he was sitting in his chair, the next he’d reached across the table and grabbed his brother’s shirt in his hand.
“Apologize,” he growled. “Apologize or we’ll take it outside.”
Jackson glanced around at the bar. “You always did hate a fight in your place.”
“I don’t like paying for the damage.” Lucas didn’t allow himself to be distracted. “Which is it to be?”
Jackson raised both beefy hands. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to disrespect your wife. I also didn’t know that you had a soft spot for her.”
Lucas released him and slowly settled back into his chair. Anger still raced through him and he had to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down.
“I don’t have a soft spot, but I won’t tolerate you speaking about her that way.”
Jackson frowned. “Tolerate? Why’re you talking like that, Lucas?” Then his smile returned. “I suppose it comes from spending so much time in the company of a schoolteacher.”
Lucas ignored his brother and took a drink of the whiskey.
“Maybe when all this is over, you’ll find yourself wanting to stay hitched,” Jackson teased.
“Not likely.”
Not ever was the real answer, he thought grimly. His marriage to Emily was strictly about the will. He would admit that he liked her a whole lot more than he’d thought he would. She was kind, taking in both Alice and Mary, and giving Hep a job. She was smart as a whip and as fervent as a preacher when it came to her plans. And she kissed finer than a skinny, spinster schoolteacher had the right to kiss. Lucas would have bet a hundred dollars in gold that he’d been the first man to taste her lips and yet she’d left him shaken and aroused. Which was why, despite how much he wanted to, he hadn’t done it again.
But, even ignoring his attraction and the fact that she was someone very special, their marriage couldn’t last.
He looked at his brother. “She doesn’t know,” he said quietly. “About what happened.”
Jackson didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. They’d never kept secrets from each other and their war experiences were no exception.
Jackson raised his glass. “To my little brother. And his bride.”
Before Lucas could respond, Jackson was scrambling to his feet and running his free hand through his messy hair. Lucas turned around and saw that Emily had entered the saloon. She rarely came into his place of business, preferring to wave to him from the open door of the office or send in one of the boys always lurking about.
But it was relatively early in the day and there weren’t very many customers.
Lucas motioned her forward, then put his arm around her. “Emily, this is my brother, Jackson MacIntyre. Jackson, my wife.”
Jackson shifted uncomfortably. He reached for his hat, then realized he wasn’t wearing one. “Ma’am. It’s a real pleasure, I’m sure.”

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