Three young cowboys surrounded her and, by the smell of them, they had just come in from weeks on the trail.
“Come on, Cal,” one of the cowboys said. “She’s a lady.”
Houston pretended the men weren’t there, but silently prayed Kane would suddenly appear.
“I like ladies,” Cal said.
Houston turned and put her hand on the doorknob of the Sayles Art Rooms.
Cal put his hand over hers.
“I beg your pardon,” Houston said, drawing back, giving the man a look of contempt.
“Talks like a lady,” Cal said. “Honey, how about you and me goin’ over to the saloon and havin’ a few beers?”
“Cal,” one of the other cowboys said, with warning in his voice.
But Cal leaned closer to Houston. “I’ll show you a real good time, honey.”
“I’ll show you a good time,” came Kane’s voice as he grabbed the back of the cowboy’s shirt, and the waistband of his trousers, and sent the boy sailing to land face down in the dirty street.
When the cowboy, who was half Kane’s size, lifted himself, shaking his head to clear it, Kane towered over him. “This here’s a clean town,” he growled. “You wanta free woman, you go to Denver, but here we take care of our women.” He leaned closer to the boy. “And I damn well take care of my Woman. You understand that?”
“Yes, sir,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean no—,” he began but stopped. “Yes, sir, I’m goin’ to Denver right now.”
“I like that idea,” Kane said as he stepped back, grabbed Houston’s arm and propelled her into the carriage seat.
He drove in silence to his house, then stopped “Damn! I guess you wanted to go home.” He picked up the reins again. “That kid didn’t hurt ya, did he?”
“No,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“Nothin’ to it,” he said, but he was frownin
g as if he were worried about something.
Houston put her hand on his arm. “Perhaps it was forward of me but I sent a message ahead to Mrs. Murchison to prepare us something to eat. That is, if you don’t mind my dining with you.”
He gave her a quick up-and-down look. “I don’t mind, but I hope you got enough dresses to last you, since I seem to ruin ’em often enough.”
“I have more than enough dresses.”
“All right then,” he said reluctantly, “but I got to work sometime today. You go on in and I’ll put your horse away.”
Once inside the house, Houston ran to the kitchen. “Is everything prepared?” she asked.
“Everything,” Mrs. Murchison smiled. “And there’s cold champagne waiting.”
“Champagne?” Houston gasped, thinking of when Blair had drunk too much champagne and had ended up making love to Leander.
“And I’ve made all of Mr. Kane’s favorites,” Mrs. Murchison continued, her eyes softening.
“Buffalo steaks, no doubt,” Houston muttered, “and another woman in love with him.”
“What was that, Miss Houston?”
“Nothing. I’m sure everything will be perfect, as whatever you cook always is.” Houston left the kitchen to go to the small drawing room. It was exactly as she’d envisioned it, with the candles already burning, champagne cooling, pâté and crackers set on a silver platter. The late sun coming through the windows made the room glow.
“You set this up?” Kane asked from behind her.