Chapter 5

“Oh!” Collette drew in a quick breath. Liam lifted his gaze from the plate of food. “Guess who Esther Rose and I met today?”

“Who?” Liam ate his supper slowly while listening to his wife.

“Mrs. Sanders!”

“Really? How?”

“Esther Rose and I walked down to her bar and bakery and introduced ourselves.”

“What?” Liam choked on his food and grabbed his glass to drink down the food that had caught in his throat. “That’s no place for a lady.”

“Nonsense!” Collette giggled. “Esther Rose was with me and Patrick patrols that area regularly, we were in no danger at that time of the day. Besides, I wanted to thank her for her business with our bakery.”

“Well, that was nice of you.” He eyed her suspiciously. “I’m sure your curiosity had nothing to do with you walking down there to ‘thank’ the woman.”

“None!” She giggled. “None a’tall.

He laughed. “Um hum.”

Collette continued, “Darling. I invited her to join Esther Rose and me for tea and tatting. If she doesn’t come, could I deliver her bakery order, so that I can extend my friendship and let her know I was serious about wanting to socialize with her?”

Liam considered her request with a furrowed brow and a tilt of his head. “Possibly ... if, and only if, you can get your brother to agree to escort you to and from the Mountain Boy’s Saloon. Then I will let you take her bakery order to her.”

Collette nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes. I can work that out. I’ll simply let Patrick know he has to earn his free sweet rolls by escorting me to and from the bar and bakery.”

Liam chuckled. “Sweetheart. You might start calling Alicia Marie Sanders’s establishment by its proper name if you wish to befriend her.”

“I’ve called it “bar and bakery” so many times, I don’t know if I can think of it as anything else. It certainly describes what it has to offer better than ‘Mountain Boy’s Saloon’.” Collette pouted.

“Yes, it does, but ... oh, never mind. Once you have befriended Mrs. Sanders, she probably will think it endearing to call it a bar and bakery. You have a way of winning people over like that.” He smiled adoringly at her, and her heart melted.

She returned his loving smile. Still, after seven months of marriage, she so adored her husband.

He cleared his throat. “I will add one more stipulation to my agreement to you delivering Mrs. Sanders’s bakery goods.”

Collette lifted her chin. Her mouth pursed into a flat line. “What’s that?”

“Once you are in a family way. No more delivering by you to anyone.”

Collette smiled. “All right, although the walk would be good for me and the baby, but I agree, while in a family way, it would not be wise to traverse the south end of the district.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. He longed for a child as much as she did. They had been married all these months, and so far the good Lord had not blessed them with an expansion to their family. But she knew in her heart that He would, soon. With any luck, Esther Rose would be with child soon, also, and they could have their babies close together so that they’d grow up best friends and cousins.

Liam rose with his plate in hand and placed it on the washboard. Collette joined him. Together, she washed and he dried the dishes. Quite the opposite of what they did at the bakery.

She couldn’t imagine being happier than she was right now. And yet, somehow, she knew better days were coming, especially once they started a family.

Patrick and Mac McIntyre, the two senior deputies, rode their horses through the streets before sunset to confirm all was well in their part of Denver City known as the Depot District. They generally made their routine path such that they were in the south end of the Depot District during dusk and made their way back to the sheriff’s office as darkness closed in. Another deputy and the Sheriff kept an eye on things overnight so that Patrick and Mac could go home.

Patrick was curious how Alicia Marie Sanders would handle her patrons should a ruckus erupt. After sunset, with hard-working men drinking heavily, the opportunity would be ripe for just such a violent outbreak. The two deputies meandered around the block that housed the Mountain Boy’s Saloon slowly and purposefully, making their way to slip inside and check out the atmosphere within.

“Evenin’, Deputies.” Mrs. Sanders drawled in her Louisiana accent as they entered through the swinging batwing doors. She sat cross-legged on a high bar stool, a portion of her foot and leg were exposed by her hiked-up skirts for anyone to see.

Patrick let his eyes sweep the saloon interior from right to left before settling his gaze on Mrs. Sanders. His eyes widened, but he soon had control of his facial expressions. Few women he knew exposed their ankles when they sat like Mrs. Sanders was doing.

“Evenin’ ma’am.” He tipped his hat. Mac stood beside and slightly behind Patrick, also surveying the interior. There were some rough-looking fellows playing cards to his right, at the front corner table. A stand-up game took place in the other right-side corner toward the back. They were throwing dice or something.

A man in a white dress shirt, with red and black garters high on his arms and a bowler hat that sat too high on his head to fit right, played a lively tune at the piano. Several other men, who were dirty and looked like they came straight here when they put down their tools, were two and four to a table, drinking small glasses of whisky and pint mugs of frothy beer. Some faces he recognized and others he had never seen before.

Did Alicia Marie Sanders have an established clientele from her previous business, assuming she had owned another saloon somewhere else, who had followed her here to Denver to work outside of the Depot District and now patronized her saloon?

The crowd seemed subdued for now, with the exception of the excitement that the dice game caused with waves of shouting and whooping from the players and on-lookers alike. Patrick knew from experience that men and gambling, especially gambling with such elevated emotions like that game would inevitably turn into an argument which certainly moved into a lethal situation, quickly. Could Mrs. Sanders handle such a situation when it arose?