Page 54 of The Saloon Girl's Only Shot
“She’ll continue to share the room with me until they marry.” Jane hung her cloak and dripping bonnet, giving a little shiver as her body adjusted to the cool saloon. “In a few weeks, when she’s ready to work, they’ll look for a girl from one of the farms to sit with the baby in the evenings.”
“Do you know when they’ll marry? I doubt Mr. Fritz wants me to attend, but I’d like to wish her well.”
“He seems a lot warmer now that he knows she’s staying. Mavis told me she was reluctant to return his affections, knowing she was carrying. She thought he would look down on her, but he’s tickled with the baby. I think they’ll make each other happy.”
“That’s nice to hear. Oh, yes.” She followed Jane’s curious gaze to the coffin table. “I need your opinion.”
Temperance led her to where she had laid out the chintz fabric Owen had brought home yesterday. He’d walked in with more fabrics and notions than she knew what to do with, then carried on with his day as though they hadn’t shared their most painful secrets.
Last night, he’d worked in the wagon house until she’d gone to bed and he’d left first thing to visit the farms, looking for anyone making whiskey.
She kept wondering if he was right that she shouldn’t be so hard on herself. Her heart ached for what he’d been through. Adelaide had never really accepted her, but Temperance had always had her father’s love and that of her younger siblings. She couldn’t imagine how lonely he must have been through his childhood.
She shook off dwelling on him and stood with Jane to survey the chalked lines on the fabric.
“I’m afraid to start cutting.” Not when it was such a good chintz and the cost had come out of Owen’s pocket, not her own. “Will you check my work while I start the coffee? Let me know if I’ve made any mistakes?”
“Of course.” Jane turned the edge to admire the pattern.
Temperance moved into the living quarters where she left her carpet bag on a chair near the hearth. She threw an extra stick of wood on the fire and measured coffee and water into the pot, coming back to the parlor to find Jane at the door, speaking to someone.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t an undertaker any longer,” Jane was saying. “I can direct you to the one in Auraria?”
“I was told this building belongs to Owen Stames?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Jane stepped back to look questioningly to Temperance.
The man at the door was revealed to be around Owen’s height and age of mid-thirties. He wore a dark gray cap with a black brim pulled low so it pushed his curly black hair into a downward angle. The ends nearly blended into his overgrown beard. His complexion was a dark brown speckled by the rain. His jacket was wet and his trousers heavily spattered by riding. His boots were in good repair, if muddy.
“Mr. Stames should be back soon. Can I tell him who inquired?” Temperance asked.
“Emmett, ma’am.” He touched his cap. “One of his partners from the mine.”
“Of course! He’s mentioned you. Please come in and wait for him. He’s only gone to the cooperage.” She waved to invite him in. “My name is Temperance. I work for Owen. This is my friend, Jane. She’s visiting.”
“Nice to meet you both.” He removed his hat and stamped his boots, wiping them on the stoop before entering. “I wasn’t expecting to meet any ladies here,” Emmett sent Jane a self-conscious glance and smoothed his beard. “I would have visited the barber first.”
“This is Denver, sir, not Paris,” Temperance said wryly. “I’ve just started a pot of coffee. Will you join us?”
Owen was wet, thwarted, and grumpy as he locked up the wagon house and followed Clarence to the back door where the dog was scratching to be let in.
Emmett opened the door to him.
“Huh.” Owen pulled up with surprise. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“I could say the same.” Emmett leaned down to pet the dog, making a face as he discovered Clarence’s fur was wet.
“Clarence. Let me in.” Owen used his knee to nudge Clarence out of his way.
Inside, Temperance was seated at the table with Jane, each with a cup in front of them. He nodded at both of them. “Hello, Jane. You’ve both met Emmett.”
“Yes. We’ve all been chatting, but it’s time I headed back.” Jane rose. “It was nice meeting you, Emmett. Oh, yes, it’s nice to see you, too,” she said to Clarence, giving him a scratch under his chin. “But you’re wet.” She wrinkled her nose and accepted the towel Temperance handed her.
“I’ll walk you out. Take my shawl.” Temperance retrieved it off a hook and went into the parlor with her.
Jane likely had to work so Owen didn’t take her abrupt exit personally.
“I didn’t expect to see anyone for at least another week.” Owen removed his wet jacket and hung it over the back of a chair, turning it toward the fire. “Is there a reason you’re here?”