Page 9 of An Unescorted Lady


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He stared at her now. "Your father died?" His voice suddenly went softer.

"Yes. A week ago, and I was about to be evicted, that's why I'm early."

"How'd he die?" He asked as though it were important.

"He just keeled over with a heart attack, in the saloon."

Now he was staring at her. "He died in a saloon?"

"Yes, I'm afraid he was a heavy drinker. One of the reasons I don't touch the stuff." She reiterated.

"I'm sorry for that."

"So am I. He was a good man, just a drinker." She told him. "The Irish have a weakness for liquor sometimes."

"What about your mother?"

"She died years ago, of small pox."

"Then you're alone?"

"Yes, what's that got to do with anything? That's why I needed this job so badly. The only work I could have gotten back home was scrubbing floors or taking care of the elderly, which I wouldn't get paid much for. Taking care of the elderly means you get room and board and not much else. Scrubbing floor makes a woman age fast, and I've done it for too many years now, as that's what my mother did most of her life. I wanted to be a cook. When I saw your advertisement, I answered quickly as I'm a very good cook. I so needed this job."

"Can you make a chicken fried steak he asked?"

"With speckled gravy and biscuits on the side, mashed potatoes that melt in your mouth, corn on the cob and fresh greens from the garden. You name a dish, and I can either make it, or learn to."

"Who taught you to cook?" He seemed mildly impressed.

"My Aunt Betty, she lived with us for a while." She said she couldn't stay forever, so she wanted me to know all the basics before she left."

He smiled at her for the first time and it curled her toes. Why did he have to be so darn handsome? It was almost as distracting as his kisses.

"I sent a wire to Priscilla."

"Well, what did it say?"

"I haven't gotten a reply yet."

"Do you mistrust all women?"

"Trust has to be earned. Respect I have that for all women. But trust doesn't come as easy. And her not being on that train is a very good reason why."

"That should settle it then, you can get an annulment, I'll be on my way I guess, people will forget, and you can be married."

"Won't work!" he told her as she jumped off the bed.

"Why not?" She picked up her valise, starting for the door.

"Because weddings are not something people forget, and you are the bride, maybe not the right one, but certainly the one I married. Besides, I hired you as my cook, you can still do that for me, can't you. The way I see it, you owe me."

"I owe you? Are you out of your mind? You practically drug me to the church, giving me no time whatsoever to explain who I was. You even nudged me in front of the preacher to say, 'I do'. And I owe you?"

"Do you want a job or not?" he asked his lips firming as though it was the end of her discussion.

"Of course, I do."

"Then you got one. You'll be the cook alright, but also my wife, for now."

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