Scandal at the Cahill Saloon - By Carol Arens Page 0,61

a circle, scowling and scanning the shifting shadows of the playground.

“If it’s more money you’re after, bring your little friend out here and I’ll double it.”

Cleve wanted to leap out of the bush and throttle Van Slyck, but he kept still. Who knew what he might reveal, believing that he was babbling to Melvin?

Still, it was a challenge to keep his voice from roaring in outrage and his fists from plowing into Van Slyck’s gut.

Not only was the man a bully to the women across the tracks, he had forced Cleve to deceive his wife. Leanna, making up for his absence at the saloon, believed that he was home in bed with a bellyache.

The lie was half-true, now that he thought about it. His belly did ache with the need to give Van Slyck what he had coming.

He’d have to wait on that, for now at least. Push Van Slyck too far and Leanna might never discover what he knew about her parents’ deaths, if he knew anything.

For Leanna’s sake, Van Slyck would get away with a warning, but it ate at him.

“All I want is for the little fellow to give his mother a message. I won’t harm either one of you…you have my word.” Van Slyck inclined his head, listening. “As a gentleman.”

Cleve shook a branch of the shrub and Van Slyck’s head whipped around.

He wove his way toward the bush, nearly stumbling with a drunken misstep. He spread the vegetation aside, looking down to where he must assume the children hid in terror.

Cleve reached up and grabbed him by his knotted tie. Van Slyck hit the ground hard on his knees.

Nose to nose with him, Cleve watched the coward’s eyes widen. In the dark, the speck in his iris that he had noticed earlier shimmered like a gold nugget.

Cleve’s temper burned so hot that it was hard to see clearly. He stood, yanking Van Slyck up with him. His free hand curled into an impatient fist.

He thought of his wife and the in-laws he would never get to meet. He pictured them in his mind and jammed his fist against his thigh.

“What’s the message, Van Slyck?”

He sputtered. The coward tried to pry Cleve’s fingers from his tie.

“What? Too yellow-livered to deliver it man-to-man?”

Van Slyck cursed. Cleve hauled him up, then dragged him to the stream. He tipped him backward over the water.

“Last chance to get it off your chest,” he said.

“Damn those Cahills, every last one of them. Damn you, double.”

“That’s what I figured.”

Cleve let go of the tie and Van Slyck fell backward into the stream. Dropping this fool on his ass was becoming a regular occurrence.

“Keep the hell away from my family or next time I won’t be so gentle on you.”

Chapter Thirteen

Monday arrived along with the first day of fall. Cleve stood on the front porch of Leanna’s Place with a mug of coffee between his palms enjoying the crisp air nipping at his face.

Leanna sat in one of the rocking chairs with a shawl across her shoulders. She appeared a bit pale but she smiled up at him.

“Summer left in a hurry,” she said. “Boodle, stay away from those stairs.”

Cleve blocked a possible tumble with his knee and directed the toddler toward his mother. She scooped him up and settled him on her lap, wrapping the ends of the shawl around him.

“Here comes the wind.” She turned her face into a fledgling gust and took a deep breath. “There’s something exciting about the weather changing, don’t you think?”

“There’s something exciting about watching you become excited.”

If he could steal her away to the broom closet right now, he would. But inside the saloon, the place was a hum of activity. The ladies, Aggie included, dusted, swept and scrubbed the main room in preparation of the coming week.

“Looks like you’re feeling better…hungry, even,” she murmured with a seductive arch of one brow.

“Starved, in fact.” He hadn’t made love to Leanna since his belly issues, just to make the lie more convincing. “You look like you might be catching it, though.” Not from him clearly, but she didn’t seem quite herself.

“I’m taking Melvin to the bank this morning,” he said. He set his coffee mug down on the porch rail and traced his thumb along the curve of her cheek. No fever, at least. “The boy earned a dollar the other day and wants to save it for a horse. We’ll take Boodle along with us so you can get some rest.”

“I’d rather keep him here