Page 323 of Conveniently Wed
Mindful of blending in, she listened to several conversations, but didn’t pick up any good leads that would help satisfy her mission.
Covertly following a group of men into a saloon, she found an empty spot at the end of a long bar and ordered a sarsaparilla. The bartender gave her an odd look, but didn’t ask any questionswhen she handed him a coin and nodded her head in thanks. She didn’t intend to drink anything, but people would pay less attention to her if she looked like she was nursing a drink.
Without raising her head, she cast a glance around the room and took in a group of men sitting at a nearby table. Dusty and a little disheveled, they seemed to be having a good time. Leisurely turning their direction, she listened to their conversation as they played cards. Caught up in the tales of ranching and life on the trail, she didn’t notice a saloon girl sidle up next to her until someone squeezed her arm.
“Hey, sugar, ain’t seen you round here afore,” the girl said, leaning to press herself against Aundy’s side. “You’re a little shy, aren’t you?”
Aundy thought she might die of embarrassment. She raised her head just enough to take in the girl’s face and was surprised to see someone extremely young. If she scrubbed off the makeup and dressed in respectable clothes, the girl would probably be quite pretty. Although she guessed her to be around sixteen, the girl’s eyes held a haunted look — the gaze of one who had lost all innocence.
Tawdry and gauche, the girl seemed excessively friendly for Aundy’s liking.
“Not interested.” Aundy stared down at her feet. “Please move along, miss.”
“Everyone’s interested, at least all men are.” The girl took a step back and studied Aundy speculatively. The way she grinned, Aundy wondered if she’d figured out she wasn’t a man.
“My name’s Marnie. And you are?”
“Looking for information,” Aundy said quietly, working to keep her voice low and rough.
“What kind of information?” Marnie leaned against the bar and twirled a gaudy fan by a silk cord wrapped around her wrist.
“Buying sheep.” Nervous, she barely remembered not to lick her lips or press them together.
“Sheep, is it? Well, you probably ought to talk to Mr. O’Connell over there in the corner. He has a bunch he’s been trying to sell so he can move on to greener pastures. Says he wants to head to California where they don’t get snow and cold winters like we have here.” Marnie pointed to a man sitting at a table in the corner by himself. “He’s a nice man, even when he’s drunk, and always gentle around women, at least to those who dress the part.”
Astounded by Marnie’s comment, Aundy tried not to let it show on her face. She tipped her head to Marnie and touched the brim of her hat in thanks, like she’d watched men do all her life, then walked across the room.
“Mr. O’Connell?” she asked, standing beside his table. He looked up at her with a glazed expression. Aundy noticed an empty whiskey bottle on the table. Repressing the sigh that inched up from her chest, she sat down when he motioned to a chair across from him.
“Heard you have sheep for sale. I might know someone who’d be interested in buying.”
“Oh, might ya now?” Mr. O’Connell said with an Irish lilt that made his words seem musical. “Faith, I’ve been a’ tryin’ to get rid of me woolies for months long past and had no takers. I was sittin’ here tonight, ready to drown me sorrows and there ya’ be. Giving me hope, at last.”
Aundy asked questions about the type of sheep, the size of the herd, how much he wanted for the animals, and if he was willing to deliver them to her farm. When she was satisfied with the information, she took out her pencil and piece of paper and wrote down her name, instructing Mr. O’Connell to give Mrs. Erickson a call Monday morning or to stop by her farm to discuss the details. In turn, Aundy wrote down his last name andthe approximate location of his farm, in case the half-drunk man lost the piece of paper before he got in touch with her.
“Thank you for your time.” Aundy stood up from the table, more than ready to make an escape.
“Ya’ can’t up and leave yet. A drink must be shared at the prospect of selling me flock of sheep.” Mr. O’Connell held up his empty shot glass. “Marnie, me love, bring another bottle.”
Aware the situation could go quite badly from there, Aundy knew a man would stay and take a drink to seal the deal.
Marnie brought over a bottle and another glass, setting it in front of Aundy. With a flirty wink, Marnie poured whiskey into each glass, then stood back, eyeing Aundy. Certain the girl saw through her disguise, Aundy hoped she wouldn’t give her away.
“To a future without woolies,” Mr. O’Connell toasted, holding up his glass before downing the contents in one quick swallow.
“To the future,” Aundy said, holding her glass and pretending to take a drink. There was no way that devil’s poison, as she’d heard her mother call it, was touching her lips let alone sliding down her throat. She could almost feel the fire burning in her stomach from the smell alone.
“Ya hardly took a sip,” Mr. O’Connell pointed out.
“Trying to cut back.” Aundy reached out her gloved hand to the man across the table and gave him a firm handshake. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome, boyo. Thank you for giving me Mrs. Erickson’s name.”
In what she hoped was a masculine gesture, Aundy tipped her head, turned to leave, and ran right into Ashton Monroe.
“Watch where you’re going,” Ashton grumbled giving Aundy a hard shove that sent her stumbling into an empty table. She kept herself from falling by sheer determination and mumbled an apology without lifting her gaze.
Shocked to see Ashton, Aundy wasn’t sure what to make of his grumpy, rumpled presence. Always dressed immaculately with impeccable manners, he appeared quite disheveled. His suit was wrinkled and flecked with dark stains. He wore no hat, and it looked as though he’d run his hands through his hair numerous times since it stood on end.
