Ace's Wild

“Why? Lying’s easier.”

It was her turn to shrug. “People taking the easy way all the time is one of the reasons children like Terrance don’t get a chance, why women get black eyes from the men they love and why men sometimes have to be what they don’t want to be just to survive.”

“The last doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does. Not every man’s temperament is suited to a warrior’s life.”

Ace huffed. “Any man worth his salt knows how to fight.”

“I know, and it’s easier to say that rather than to accept differences.”

Ace stared at her for the longest time. “You are one strange woman, Petunia Wayfield.”

She kept her wince internal. “So I’ve been told.”

“By people that don’t appreciate it, I bet.”

“Nope,” she agreed, “no more than you do.”

“Oh?” His fingers skimmed the side of her cheek. “I appreciate this.”

This? This, her face? This, her position? Or this, the all of her?

“It’s just not for me.”

It just came tripping right off her tongue. “Why not?”

And his response came easily off his. “Because under all that spit and fire you’re a sweet, gentle woman who needs a man to hold her place.” Cupping her chin, he tipped her gaze to his. “It just can’t be me.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her sputtering for a comeback.

He was halfway to the saloon before, finally, she found her voice again. “What makes you think I’d want you?”

There was no way he could have heard that muttered utterance. No way at all, but his laugh when it drifted back, still flicked her nerves. The man was impossible. Fine looking, but impossible. Taking a moment to admire the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips and, Lord help her, the space in between, she watched until he stepped inside the saloon. The faint sound of greeting followed by a lilt of feminine laughter drifted in his wake. Anger pricked her pride before it dug a wedge deeper. She hated the thought of another woman touching Ace. She hated the thought that he thought she was good and sweet and treated both qualities as if they were something bad.

Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. She’d been hating a lot of things lately. More than usual the past few years. The way Ace saw her was just one more item tacked on to a long list. Truth was, she was frustrated and tired. If she could just get out to California where the rules were so much more liberal, where money made the person, not the gender, it would all be well.

More feminine laughter drifted out along with the faint murmur of Ace’s voice. Petunia would give anything to know what he was saying. She’d give anything to have the courage to march into that saloon and demand that he explain himself. Oh, hell, she rubbed her hands up and down her arm. Who was she kidding? She wanted an opportunity to prove him wrong about her, that she was more than enough woman for him and that being good didn’t make you useless, and being sweet didn’t mean you weren’t passionate. She was so tired of that silliness. She’d seen it so often, it’d smothered her for so long, it just made her teeth grind when somebody applied it to her. Anybody could be sweet when the moment called for it. Anybody could be kind. Anybody could be good. No one thing was the sum total of a person.

Slowly and deliberately she turned her back on the saloon. Through the restaurant window she saw Terrance was almost done with his dinner. Flicking her skirt straight and smoothing her hair, Petunia headed across the street to Luisa’s. Putting off the inevitable wasn’t going to make it go away. There was only one other patron in the restaurant, and he didn’t even give her the time of day when she stepped through the door. He was just shoveling his food into his mouth as fast as he could, some of it catching on his beard. No doubt he was eager to get over to the saloon for some cards and women.

She shuddered. She wouldn’t want to be the one receiving his attentions tonight. Honestly, she didn’t know how those women above stairs did it. Which just went to prove how much society needed to change. Women shouldn’t have to sell their bodies to survive. They ought to be able to make a living wage. They ought to be able to have some recourse to get out of a bad marriage and not be penniless and shunned. They ought to be able to keep their children. They ought to be able to vote, and they truly, truly ought to be able to have some standing under the law.

The anger in her thoughts must have showed on her face because as soon as she stopped beside the table, Terrance looked up at her, and his eyes went wide and he swallowed hard, his fork frozen halfway between the plate and his mouth. Luisa, seated beside Terrance, looked at her curiously. Petunia took a breath and forced a smile.

“Hello, Terrance.”

He nodded. Luisa handed him his napkin. He took it and wiped his mouth and his hands. Someone at some time had taught him basic manners. And he was trotting them out for her, the only thanks he could offer. Wrapped in a red velvet ribbon of hope.

“Hello, Miss Wayfield.”

In many ways they were alike. Struggling to be who they were in a world that wanted to call them something else. She could help him with that. Her smile began to feel more natural. “That sure looks like a delicious supper.”

“The best ever.”

Luisa smiled and ruffled his hair at the compliment. “He has the honey tongue, this one.”

His steak was half-eaten. Petunia would have been hard-pressed to eat a quarter of it. Looking at the thinness of his arms and the bones poking out his shoulders against his shirt, she figured he would probably eat that plate and more if his stomach would hold it. Terrance had the appearance of boy long starved for many things.

A part of her wished she could stay in Simple and fix everything, but she couldn’t. She knew that. It wasn’t practical. Neither the laws nor the community would back her. No, she had to keep her focus. Her future was in California. In California she was going to own her own business, own her own life and she was going to make a difference. But she could get things started for Terrance. It might delay her departure a little bit... She glanced at his bruised eye. He was her student. She owed him that. Forcing a smile, she said brightly, “My goodness, Terrance. That’s a man’s appetite you have there!”

“It’s good.” Luisa smiled at Terrance. “He has a good appetite. He will eat that steak all gone and then dessert.”

“You’re going to have dessert, too?” Where was he going to put it all?

Terrance nodded enthusiastically. “Apple pie,” he said as though they were talking about the best of nirvana which, to a boy without a mother to bake for him, she supposed apple pie might qualify.

“I make a good apple pie,” Luisa said proudly.

“That she does,” Petunia agreed. “I’ve had it a time or two myself.”

She couldn’t help but run her hands over her hips. She had to stop going to Maddie’s bakery and coming here to Luisa’s restaurant, but the truth was if left to her own devices, eating was minimal because she didn’t like to cook, and her efforts were marginally edible at best, but she loved to eat, and part of her salary as a teacher was two free meals a day at any of the town’s three restaurants. So basically, she paid for coffee in the morning because she didn’t care for breakfast, and then ate well the rest of the day.

Terrance took another bite of potato, chewed, swallowed and then frowned. “Mr. Parker says I’m going to be staying with you tonight.”

“That’s right.”

A little of the fear left his face. “And then I’ll go home tomorrow?”

Her smile came more naturally. If Ace was going to put the pressure on her, she’d throw some back on him.

“Mr. Parker said your father had to work on some... Had some things to deal with...some business to handle before...” Oh, gosh, she wasn’t good at lying.

The expression on Terrance’s face said he knew what she was trying to say, but she forced herself through to the finish because, well, because he was a little boy, and the truth that his father was a wastrel wasn’t something a woman threw in a little boy’s face. Not if she could leave him some illusions.

Clearing her throat, she started over. “Your father has some things to work on before you can go home, but tonight you’re going to stay with me at my house and then tomorrow we found this special place where you’ll stay. It’s sort of like a hotel for children.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never stayed at a hotel. Pa says they’re real fancy.”

“Well, this hotel might not be that fancy but...”

“Does it have a bed?”

She blinked. The question took her aback. “A very nice bed with clean sheets and a blanket and a soft pillow.”

Luisa blinked rapidly and patted his back. “And a nice quilt.”

Petunia looked at her. She didn’t know if they had quilts.