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He took a sip of water and shook his head. “Wasn’t no bother. It gave me time to talk to Caleb and Percy and when I mentioned how busy they were, Caleb said Percy had been saying he wanted to hire someone else on so, I let him know I was interested.” He scooped up a bite of eggs and swallowed them before saying, “Found out Betsey’s working at the saloon, too.” The words felt like jagged rocks sliding down his throat. “I went in for a drinkand there she was, up there on Vern’s new stage singing and flashing more skin than is decent.”
No one said a word. Aaron looked up from his plate and noticed everyone else—except Morning Dove—was busy studying theirs. “What?” He lowered his fork and leaned back. No one moved. He looked at every single person at that table and no one said a word. “Why do you all look like you just ate a stink beetle?”
His ma was the first to move. She raised her eyes to his and said, “Why are you worried about what Betsey Atwater is doing?” in a voice that clearly said she was puzzled. And why wouldn't she be? He’d never told a soul about what happened between him and Betsey.
His ma’s words seemed to snap everyone out of the weird mood that had fallen as they all resumed eating and he did as well. He wasn’t ready to talk about his short-lived relationship with Betsey, especially when her reaction to him yesterday had been so—hateful. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He did. He’d admit it to anyone who asked, assuming anyone knew about it. So far only Ben had seemed angry with him so maybe he was the only person who knew.
There was time enough to figure out what to do about Betsey later. He finished his breakfast, excused himself from the table, made sure Morning Dove was all right and headed back to the barn. He didn’t notice Noah had followed him until he walked across the roof to the plank he’d been hammering into place before stopping to eat. Noah was standing near the top of the ladder and seeing him there scared him about as much as it did to see Nate perched there. “You shouldn’t be up here.”
Noah laughed. “Says who?”
“Ma probably, if she knew you were out here climbing ladders to the barn roof.”
“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say more andthankfully, Noah didn’t climb the rest of the way up the ladder or attempt to climb onto the roof. He finished hammering the plank into place and stood to grab another but stopped to look at Noah instead. “You need something?”
Noah just looked at him and gave a faint shake of his head. “Just wanted to come see how things were coming along.”
“I’ll be done by lunch.” He crossed the roof and picked up another plank.
Noah looked at the new boards now hammered into place and nodded. “I also wanted to let you know if you needed to talk about anything, I’m here.” He looked at him as if he was waiting for him to say something.” We’re all here. I know the argument last spring wasn’t the only thing that made you jump on that old horse and cut out of here like your backside was on fire so if you want to talk about it, regardless of what it is, we’ll listen.”
A hundred things popped into his head at once and not a single one of them slipped past his lips. He carried the plank to the gaping hole in the roof and set it into place and picked up the hammer. “I appreciate the offer but there’s nothing to talk about.” He put a nail against the wood and started driving it in, ignoring Noah until it was secure, then looked over to the ladder. Noah was gone.
He sighed and rested his hands on his thighs and stared out across the prairie. Most everything that needed sorting in his life would eventually work itself out. That job Percy had given him was the start and until he decided what he wanted from Betsey, there was no use in discussing it.
She probably hated him anyway. As furious as she’d been when he hauled her out of the saloon the evening before, he was almost positive he wouldn’t be very high on her list of favorite people but damn it all he wouldn’t apologize for hauling her out of there. Not when the very thought of her up there on that stage still infuriated him.
He clenched his jaw, seeing her up on that stage again in his mind’s eye, flashing her ribbon-tied stockinged legs at those old saddle bums in the saloon as if she was no better than those women working the second floor. Those men had no right looking at her with lust in their eyes—or thinking about her at all. Until he’d laid her out underneath those willows and kissed every inch of her lily white skin, no one had ever seen more of her than was appropriate and jealousy turned that initial anger to burning rage that she’d just been flashing those long legs to anyone who looked. Betsey was …
What was she?
She was the first girl he’d ever laid with, regardless of the lies he’d told anyone who asked. His friends thought the night they’d goaded him into climbing the stairs to the second floor of the saloon was his first taste of female flesh and he hadn’t told them any differently but Betsey knew. She knew things about him his own family didn’t. She was also the one person he knew would be there when the world seemed to be pressing down on him and a single stroke of her fingers in his hair calmed him like nothing else had. She was someone he had no problem telling anything to because he knew she’d never judge him or tell him how foolish he was being. She was … not a part of his life anymore. He’d pushed her aside and hadn’t looked back, too self-centered to think of anyone but himself all those months ago and one way or the other, he’d make it up to her. She may hate him forever but he’d not stop apologizing to her for being such a jackass until she could look at him with something other than contempt shining in her eyes.
He placed the nail in his hand on the plank and drove it in. Tomorrow. He’d start trying to make things right with her tomorrow. He’d be in town all day for the rest of the week so there was time. He’d hunt her down if he had to. One way or another, he’d get Betsey Atwater alone and have the conversation he dreaded but would have regardless. He’d set things rightbetween them. She may never speak to him again afterward and if she didn’t, then he had no one to blame but himself.
Her throat feltlike she’d swallowed glass. Betsey hurried off the stage, stopping twice to push a drunken cowboy out of her way. The crowd was thick again tonight, which made Vern happy, especially after the ruckus Aaron had caused the night before.
She looked around the room, half expecting to see him in some dark corner scowling at her but so far she hadn’t seen him and she hoped she didn’t. Knowing he was in town was hard enough. Standing in front of him, knowing he didn’t love her like she loved him, was torture.
Ruby grabbed her attention as she neared the bar, a sly look on her face. “You look like you’re up to something.”
“Me? Never.” Her friend laughed and reached for the glass sitting on her tray. The dark amber liquid sloshed a bit when Ruby handed it to her.
Betsey chuckled and raised her eyebrow. “Why are you trying to ply me with liquor?”
“It’s not me.” Ruby urged her to take it. When she had it in hand, she nodded toward a table in the corner. “The gentleman over there bought it and asked for it to be delivered to the nightingale once she exited the stage.”
“Nightingale?”
Ruby leaned in to whisper, “He actually said, ‘give this to that beautiful songbird whose voice is as sweet as the nightingale.’ I’d say, judging his appearance alone, he’s just the type of man a lady hoped notices her, so drink up and go give him a personal thank you.”
Betsey glanced his way. She’d seen her share of attractive men but not many came inside the saloon. This man looked so out ofplace he stuck out like a garish wall painting against the drab brown walls. His black hair was slicked back from his face and even from the distance they were apart, she could see his eyes were so blue, they shined like bright crystals.
He was watching her, a smile turning the corners of his mouth up a bit and when she made eye contact, he raised the glass in his hand and dipped his head a bit in greeting. Her pulse leaped. Why in the world would a man like that buy her a drink? He was too handsome and certainly not the sort of man she’d attract. She was just plain ole’ Betsey Atwater, a single mother with nothing more than the clothes on her back, a broken down cabin she shared with her brother, and just enough money they’d not starve. This man—
He tossed back his shot and stood. Every hair on Betsey’s body raised as he started her way. She’d never enjoyed the taste of whiskey but swallowed the shot for a bit of courage as he crossed the room.
