The Gambler by Lily Graison Page B

hook
painstakingly inserted into each buttonhole until every one of
those buttons were fastened.
     
    The coat Mrs. Kilpatrick handed her was wool,
in a dark green that almost matched her new dress. A wide brimmed
hat with flowers and a feather plume was added to the growing pile
of items. Tristan pulled out a black leather pouch, stuffed full
with his money, and gave her a disapproving look as he paid Mrs.
Kilpatrick. Emmaline bit her lip to keep from laughing.
     
    Her first assessment of him being wealthy had
been an understatement. He was apparently loaded judging that
bulging leather pouch, and what guilt had been riding her
conscience vanished in an instant.
     
    She picked up the hat, stuck it on her head,
jabbed the hatpin in to hold it in place, and turned to look at
herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened. She didn’t even recognize
herself. She looked nothing like the thin, half-starved girl she
was used to seeing. She looked… refined. Glamorous. Like a real
lady. She had curves that showed off her small waist. Her breasts
looked bigger and the scooping neckline of the dress made her neck
look longer.
     
    Lifting her hand, she tossed her braid over
her shoulder and saw Tristan’s reflection in the mirror. He was
watching her. The look in his eyes was the same as last night when
she’d taken off her shift before bed. His gaze devoured her, drank
her in until her skin warmed, her insides jumped and butterflies
swam in dizzying circles inside her stomach.
     
    She blushed before looking away, fussing with
her hat as her new dresses were packaged, the ugly calico’s bought
along with several sets of under-things and stockings. When
everything was ready to go, Tristan picked it all up and nodded to
the door with his head. “Let’s go Ms. Hunt. We have exactly one
hour to eat and pack before the stagecoach leaves.”
     
    Stagecoach? Emmaline grinned and felt
wonderfully numb by the time they walked out of the dress shop, her
newly acquired clothes carried by a man she barely even knew. One
who left her homeless then treated her like a queen.
     
    She glanced at him out of the corner of her
eye, saw him struggling with the packages and wondered again why
he’d gone to so much trouble. “You didn’t have to buy all that
stuff, you know.”
     
    He glanced at her and smiled. “I’m aware of
that. I wanted to.”
     
    “Why?”
     
    Tristan shrugged his shoulder. “Just seemed
like the right thing to do.”
     
    She stopped and turned to look at him. “I’m
not a charity case.”
     
    He turned and shifted the packages again. “I
didn’t say you were.”
     
    “Then why’d you buy all that stuff?”
     
    Tristan looked at the packages, then at her,
his gaze lingering on the scoop-neck of her dress. “If you’d rather
have the things you packed in that bag back at the cabin, then I
can take all this back. It’s winter and the only things you have to
keep you warm are threadbare dresses and a blanket. What sort of
person would I be if I took you clean across the territory and set
you up in a new life with nothing but moth-eaten clothes and not
one decent coat to keep you warm? Do you think anyone would hire
you in those rags you were wearing?”
     
    So he did it because she didn’t have anything
decent of her own? That was the complete opposite of what she'd
thought, especially when he mentioned a job. Of course, the job
wouldn’t be happening but she’d save that discussion for later. She
shoved her hands into the pockets of her new winter coat, felt the
warmth and knew she should probably thank him. She didn’t. “Very
well, then. I just wanted to make sure you weren't taking me on as
some noble cause. I’m not used to people doing things for me
without a reason, so I’m not sure what you’re getting out of all
this.”
     
    “What I’m getting is to see you’re able to
take care of yourself and to get back on your feet. That’s
all.”
     
    He turned and left her standing there to
stare