else?”
“I don’t mind the noise. I’m used to it, being from Galveston and all. I’m a little homesick.”
“Well, miss, I don’t mind moving you, but those rooms cost a little extra.”
“Even though they’re noisier?”
“They’re a mite bigger,” he explained apologetically.
More money? She had brought a few pieces of sewing from Galveston to finish up for some of her mother’s regular customers, but she wouldn’t be paid until she delivered the items. What would she do after that? She stared out the window, finally registering that the curtain hanging there was faded and worn.
“What would you think about making a bargain with me, Mr. Wavers?”
“What kind of barn?”
“No, a bargain,” she said louder.
“Oh, a bargain.” He eyed her for a moment. “What did you have in mind?”
“A west room closer to the front of the hotel in exchange for new curtains.”
He glanced at the faded calico drooping limply at the two large front windows. “If I buy the fabric, would you be willing to make some new tablecloths for the dining hall, too?”
That would be perfect! She pretended to consider.
He leaned in. “You could trade that for room and meals, as well.”
Her one meal here, cooked by Mrs. Wavers, had been delicious. “All right, you’ve got a deal.”
They shook on it, both smiling.
Mr. Wavers reached into a pigeonhole beneath the counter and handed her a key to her new room. “When can you start on those curtains?”
“Today if you like. Would you like me to pick out the fabric or would you like to do it?”
“I’ll leave that to you. The tablecloths, too.”
“Should I ask Mrs. Wavers if she has a preference as to color?”
“She can’t tell blue from green.” He gestured at Josie’s well-fitted cotton daydress. “Besides, you seem to know what you’re doing. I think she’d agree.”
“Wonderful! I’ll move my things then pick out something at Haskell’s.”
“I’ll go tell Charlie to put whatever you need on the hotel’s account. This will work out mighty fine.”
“I think so, too.”
“You must like Whirlwind if you’re planning to stay.”
“It seems like a nice place.” She glanced out the window, half expecting to find Sheriff Holt staring back at her. “I met the sheriff today. He seems…pleasant. What is he like?”
“Heh.” Mr. Wavers peered at her. “You sweet on him?”
“No! Nothing like that.” Just because she got a shiver when thinking of those piercing blue eyes did not mean she was sweet on him. She simply wanted to know what she was up against. “I’m…curious.”
“He’s a fine man. Had his share of troubles, but who hasn’t?”
Josie nodded, wondering what troubles the lawman had experienced. He had plainly wanted to know if she were married; she wondered the same about him. Perhaps his coming over to her only meant he was dedicated about doing his job, but Josie knew she couldn’t let down her guard around him.
“Thank you for letting me switch rooms, Mr. Wavers,” she said in a raised voice. “I’ll go move my things.”
She patted his hand and headed upstairs, smiling broadly.
Between the sewing she had brought to finish and the new curtains and tablecloths for the hotel, she would be busier than a one-armed bank robber. She needed to work quickly on the hotel’s items since she didn’t know how soon she would be leaving.
But for now she could watch the jail from her new room without attracting notice. When the time was right, she would make sure Ian McDougal saw justice. And that handsome sheriff wasn’t going to get in her way.
It had been two days since Davis Lee had seen Josie Webster’s pretty little hide in the alley. Since he’d seen her anywhere. So where was she? Was she still watching his jail? In case she was, he had taken the precaution of rearranging his schedule, which had caused him to miss his hot pie. If she had left town using the stage or a rig rented from the livery, he would’ve known.
Either she had left town by some other means or she was up to something. Intending to find out which, he shackled McDougal to the bars of his cell before going outside and locking the door to his office. He walked a slow but thorough path through town. No sign of her. When she’d left him the other day she had slipped into Haskell’s, so Davis Lee made the general store his last stop before the hotel. Maybe Charlie had seen her.
Davis Lee walked into the store, catching the sweet tang of apples as he said hello to Cal Doyle’s wife, Lizzie, who was leaving.
Charlie Haskell stood behind the scratched wooden counter, polishing his spectacles. The store owner was small-framed and spare. “Morning, Davis Lee. What can I do for you today?”
Mitchell Orr, Charlie’s eighteen-year-old nephew who helped in the store and kept the books, ducked through the faded blue curtain separating the store from the back office. He was dressed just as his uncle in dark trousers and a white shirt with suspenders. His wiry arms held several bolts of white fabric and a red, blue and yellow calico. “Hello, Sheriff.”
“Hey, Mitchell.” Davis Lee greeted the blond-haired boy before speaking to his uncle. “Just had a question, Charlie. A woman came in here the other day. She’s new to town. Has brown or well, maybe brownish-red hair—”
“You mean that pretty little thing who’s staying at the Whirlwind Hotel?” Charlie peered at him over the top of his glasses, his brown eyes sparking with interest.
Mitchell stopped at the edge of the counter. “Josie Webster?” he asked eagerly.
Davis Lee figured that a hundred unfamiliar women could have paraded through Haskell’s General Store, and Charlie and Mitchell would’ve known Josie. They weren’t likely to forget that heart-shaped face or that creamy skin. Or the graceful curves that made a man crazy to put his hands on her. He sure hadn’t been able to forget. “Yeah, that’s her.”
“She’s been in a couple of times,” Mitchell offered.
“When was the last time y’all saw her?”
Charlie thought for a minute.
“She was in yesterday for more thread,” the younger man said.
“And the day before to buy fabric for the hotel,” Charlie added. “She’s making new curtains and tablecloths for Penn and Esther.”
“Is that
