His Bewildering Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch - Spicy Version Book 3) by Merry Farmer Page B
Authors: Merry Farmer
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danced in her chest.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, taking a step into the room. He was dressed slightly more formally than yesterday, his face freshly shaved and his hair still damp from being washed.
“Not at all.” Wendy bounced up from the bed and crossed to him. It was silly to be so excited about a man coming to see her, but this was her husband. “Olga was just sharing the story of how she came to be in Haskell.”
“I should be working,” Olga said, flying back to the window and scrubbing it with extra vigor. She did a poor job of pretending she wasn’t interested in them.
Travis laughed. “Now, Olga, you know as well as I do that Mr. Gunn isn’t going to mind you taking a few minutes to talk to Haskell’s newest citizen.” Travis shifted closer to Wendy and added, “Gunn always says that people are more important than work, and if you treat everyone with value, they’ll work harder, because their hearts will be in it.”
Wendy smiled from ear to ear. “I like Mr. Gunn more and more every moment.”
“He’s a rare fellow.” That was it. Travis closed his mouth and blushed, as though just realizing he was in a woman’s hotel room. He glanced around, twirling the hat he held in his hands, then peeked back at her. “I thought I’d come by and give you a tour of the town, this being your first full day here and all.”
“I’d like that.” She’d like more. She’d like to hear what Travis had to say about the town and its inhabitants. She’d like to hear what he had to say about himself.
The two of them stood there, staring at each other in silence, for so long that Olga started to giggle. Travis cleared his throat and said, “Well, let’s get going.”
He offered his arm. Wendy took it. Together, the two of them walked out through the sleepy hotel halls and into the sunny streets of downtown Haskell. A stiff breeze was blowing from the west, and Wendy had to keep one hand on her hat to stop it from blowing away.
“So here’s the main part of Haskell,” Travis explained as they walked. “You’ve got your mercantile, the bank, the jail down there, the saloon, of course, and, well, that pink building there…”
Wendy turned to the building Travis was trying not to look at. It was indeed pink, and a couple of scantily-clad young women lounged on the porch, clutching shawls around their shoulders. “Oh dear.” Wendy tried not to laugh, but it was so obviously a whorehouse that she couldn’t help herself. She tilted her head to one side, wondering if whoever owned the place and employed the “ladies” would be interested in providing warmer clothing for them. She wasn’t above sewing dresses for working girls, as long as it could be done discreetly. And they might stand a chance of being dressed more modestly if she had a hand in things.
“Down there is the station, which you’ve already been to, and the church,” Travis went on, oblivious to her thoughts.
“It’s a beautiful church,” she said. Her attention was still on the buildings that made up Haskell’s main street. “Are all of these shops occupied?”
Travis stopped walking and faced her with a grin. “I think one or two might be free. Let me show you something else, though, if we can see if from here.”
They changed directions and walked up the slight slope of the street. Wendy glanced over her shoulder as they went, more curious about possible vacant stores than where Travis was going. How big were the storefronts? Was there storage space in the back? Could she decorate the windows with examples of her work to draw the eye of passing women? Her mind spun with possibilities.
They approached the hotel, but rather than heading back inside, Travis took Wendy around the corner to the side roads that ran perpendicular and then parallel to Main Street. There were more houses on those streets, as well as a few smaller businesses—such as a newspaper and print office and Mr. Waters’
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, taking a step into the room. He was dressed slightly more formally than yesterday, his face freshly shaved and his hair still damp from being washed.
“Not at all.” Wendy bounced up from the bed and crossed to him. It was silly to be so excited about a man coming to see her, but this was her husband. “Olga was just sharing the story of how she came to be in Haskell.”
“I should be working,” Olga said, flying back to the window and scrubbing it with extra vigor. She did a poor job of pretending she wasn’t interested in them.
Travis laughed. “Now, Olga, you know as well as I do that Mr. Gunn isn’t going to mind you taking a few minutes to talk to Haskell’s newest citizen.” Travis shifted closer to Wendy and added, “Gunn always says that people are more important than work, and if you treat everyone with value, they’ll work harder, because their hearts will be in it.”
Wendy smiled from ear to ear. “I like Mr. Gunn more and more every moment.”
“He’s a rare fellow.” That was it. Travis closed his mouth and blushed, as though just realizing he was in a woman’s hotel room. He glanced around, twirling the hat he held in his hands, then peeked back at her. “I thought I’d come by and give you a tour of the town, this being your first full day here and all.”
“I’d like that.” She’d like more. She’d like to hear what Travis had to say about the town and its inhabitants. She’d like to hear what he had to say about himself.
The two of them stood there, staring at each other in silence, for so long that Olga started to giggle. Travis cleared his throat and said, “Well, let’s get going.”
He offered his arm. Wendy took it. Together, the two of them walked out through the sleepy hotel halls and into the sunny streets of downtown Haskell. A stiff breeze was blowing from the west, and Wendy had to keep one hand on her hat to stop it from blowing away.
“So here’s the main part of Haskell,” Travis explained as they walked. “You’ve got your mercantile, the bank, the jail down there, the saloon, of course, and, well, that pink building there…”
Wendy turned to the building Travis was trying not to look at. It was indeed pink, and a couple of scantily-clad young women lounged on the porch, clutching shawls around their shoulders. “Oh dear.” Wendy tried not to laugh, but it was so obviously a whorehouse that she couldn’t help herself. She tilted her head to one side, wondering if whoever owned the place and employed the “ladies” would be interested in providing warmer clothing for them. She wasn’t above sewing dresses for working girls, as long as it could be done discreetly. And they might stand a chance of being dressed more modestly if she had a hand in things.
“Down there is the station, which you’ve already been to, and the church,” Travis went on, oblivious to her thoughts.
“It’s a beautiful church,” she said. Her attention was still on the buildings that made up Haskell’s main street. “Are all of these shops occupied?”
Travis stopped walking and faced her with a grin. “I think one or two might be free. Let me show you something else, though, if we can see if from here.”
They changed directions and walked up the slight slope of the street. Wendy glanced over her shoulder as they went, more curious about possible vacant stores than where Travis was going. How big were the storefronts? Was there storage space in the back? Could she decorate the windows with examples of her work to draw the eye of passing women? Her mind spun with possibilities.
They approached the hotel, but rather than heading back inside, Travis took Wendy around the corner to the side roads that ran perpendicular and then parallel to Main Street. There were more houses on those streets, as well as a few smaller businesses—such as a newspaper and print office and Mr. Waters’
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