Page 85 of The Saloon Girl's Only Shot

Ah. Temperance.

Emmett’s words yanked Owen’s heart around. He didn’t want her hurting, but he wasn’t as sorry as he ought to be hearing that she was as agonized by their being apart as he was.

“I told her to come get her letter,” Emmett added, almost tipping out of his chair as he leaned to pet Clarence.

Owen wasn’t planning to hold it hostage. If he was allowed to step foot in the Bijou, he would walk it over himself, but the rest of the saloonkeepers in town were still giving him the cold shoulder.

“What are you going to do about her?” Emmett asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re as thick-headed as Virgil,” Emmett scoffed. “You had a great woman who puts up with your shit, who was sleeping in your bed, and you don’t want to keep her? What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” Owen said firmly. “It’s what’s wrong with me. What happens when I fuck up, Emmett?”

“You’re not a child anymore.” Emmett sat up, sobering. “You act like one, sure. No, that’s not even true. Look at this place.” He waved. “I never thought you were serious about opening a saloon. I sure as hell didn’t think you’d take it seriously if you did. But this is exactly what we all want—something that will still be here after the gold dries up.”

“I’m still a goldminer. What the hell do I do, though? Bring her back to camp as my wife? Get her pregnant and make her sleep in a tent and live like this the rest of her life? She wants to go back to Chicago, where they have streetlights and trolleys and hot water from a tap.”

“She wants to leave because you haven’t asked her to stay. Have you?”

“I can’t.” Owen restlessly shot to his feet. He walked to the bar where he clapped his empty glass on the cherrywood.

“You can. You just don’t want to.”

He did, though. He wanted to ask her to stay. He didn’t think he should. It was different.

“Do you love her?” Emmett pried.

He did. And she had said she loved him back. That didn’t mean he deserved her love, though.

Maybe...maybe it was time they both forgave themselves for past sins and made a proper go of it?

Chapter 23

Chatting with the lonely miners helped Temperance pass the time, even though it did little to ease her own loneliness. She shouldn’t be lonely, given she had wonderful friends in Jane and Mavis. She was busy with her bookkeeping work, which was a good distraction, but none of that stopped her from eating her heart out over Owen.

Sometimes she wondered if she was being stubborn for the sake of it, but then she remembered that going back to him would only prolong the inevitable. She had to learn to stand on her own feet and, slowly, she was finding ways to do that.

“Hi, Mick,” she called as she entered the mercantile.

She faltered when she saw he was speaking to Woodrow Greenly.

“Mr. Greenly,” she greeted stiffly, still resentful of the way he and his son had derailed her almanac. She had spitefully sent her notes to her father, encouraging him to have them printed if he thought they could be of any use.

Woodrow only glared at her, so she turned abruptly down an aisle, coming face to face with Elmer’s wife, Katherine. She was even more noticeably pregnant and widened her eyes in mild alarm.

Oh, perfect. If she hadn’t promised to bring back cornstarch for Freddie’s bottom, Temperance would have walked out and done her shopping another time.

She gave Katherine a vague smile and moved to the next aisle where she blindly stared at pickling salt and other goods she had no use for.

The men’s voices receded, and the floorboards creaked as Katherine came around the end of the shelving.

“May I talk to you for a moment?” Katherine asked. She spoke softly and stood taller, looking around to ensure they had no eavesdroppers.

“Is Mrs. Greenly here?” Temperance asked with a reflexive cringe. This day could definitely get more uncomfortable than it already was.

“No. I came with Woodrow. But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Please accept my apology for the way my mother-in-law has treated you.”