Page 56 of Wyoming Promises

“Do you?”

Bridger shifted to narrow the gap between them and faced his boss. “Not now, but I might not take to it. I haven’t been tied down in a long while.”

“When you leave my employ will be contingent on when I’m inclined to relieve you of your duties,” Ike said.

“Aren’t you worried about the authorities?”

Ike laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, my good man, there aren’t any ‘authorities’ around here.”

Bridger knew that had been part of Ike’s plan. “That federal marshal is to come around, right? What of him?”

“Federal marshals aren’t all that interested in the little happenings of these territory towns. Even if one bothers to venture our way, he won’t give more than a cursory investigation and be on his way back to civilization. So you needn’t fear for your stellar reputation. Besides, most of these folks owe me for legitimate loans.” Ike’s feet clapped on the gritty floor. “But I have a feeling you aren’t in any hurry to leave my employ.”

Bridger stood but didn’t dare tip his hand by mentioning the high interest rate Ike charged, impossible for most businessmen to pay. “Not for that kind of money, I’m not.”

Ike shook his hand and pulled a cigar from his pocket. “See? Smart. And I like that. Now, you go on out there and find what Lola needs you to do. I appreciate you keeping an eye on her. I really do.” His handshake tightened to a crushing grip. “But make sure that’s all you keep on her, you understand? Or all your newfound wealth will be used to pay the balance on your funeral.”

“I don’t move in on another man’s girl,” Bridger said. Revulsion for Ike’s oily personality curdled his stomach. But a lady has a right to choose for herself....

“Glad we reached an agreement. We’ll talk more soon,” Ike said, following him to the door.

Bridger stepped out, scanning the growing crowd. He spotted Lola waiting at a nearby table. Her glossy hair streamed down her back, glorious in its thickness, with small twists framing her face as she turned to send him a small wave. A deep green dress matched her eyes, and she smiled with a rosy blush against her cheeks.

Bridger choked, his next breath forgotten.

He should’ve listened to Frank.

Chapter Sixteen

Lola’s breath flew like a dry winter wind at the sight of Bridger Jamison. His brown hair gleamed in the lantern light, wonderfully straight and still damp, but combed with a careful part to the side. His skin had darkened over the days he’d been gone, his eyes bright in their brown depths. A stiff white shirt accented his coloring and rangy frame.

He skirted the crowded tables of the saloon with ease, lips quirked as he drew close. After a slight bow he sat in the chair across from her. The scent of wood and soap and fresh air still clung to him. “You look lovely this evening, Lola, if it’s all right for me to say so,” he said. His smile widened to show even rows of white teeth.

She took a sip of cool water from the heavy tumbler. “Thank you. I hope it’s not too overdone. Ike’s saloon doesn’t require fuss, but I don’t often have reason to dine out.”

Mattie slipped behind Bridger with pencil and paper to take their order, trailing long fingers across his shoulders before standing between them. Her fitted shirtwaist, little more than a corset with sleeves, accentuated her womanly figure. The satin skirt sported a small bustle but ended just below her knees, exposing slender legs. “Well, now, sugar, what can I get for you and the lovely miss?” she said, a broad smile on her painted lips.

Bridger’s glance held a scant moment before his attention returned to Lola. She knew it had to be a struggle. Mattie’s beauty caught the eye of most men in town, without her even trying. Did Mattie deem Bridger worth a little effort?

“We should be early enough to have our pick of the menu,” he said. “I’ll take the thickest, juiciest steak you can fire up, with the largest baked potato you can dig and a big scoop of buttered carrots on the side. And a cup of coffee as strong and dark as you can make it.” His eyes danced and Lola’s breath caught when he leaned toward her with a charming, crooked grin. “What about you, Lola?”

She glanced around the crowded room, thankful she’d chosen a table near the wall, where dim lighting better hid her blush. The new green dress she’d pulled out for the evening sagged matronly compared with Mattie’s flounce. Served her vanity right, she supposed. “Roast chicken and vegetables, please.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Mattie’s tone matched one she might use with a very young girl, instead of a community businesswoman. “You want this on your tab, Bridger?”

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