Scandal at the Cahill Saloon - By Carol Arens Page 0,54

between her shoulder blades.

This sensation was different from the one she normally felt in town. Chances are it was Preston peeking from behind corners.

Leanna shook off the uncomfortable feeling. There was nothing to be done about it. If he knew that she had tried to break into the bank, he didn’t know that she knew that he knew. She still held the upper hand.

And really, it could be that Preston hadn’t found the bracelet. He might simply be angry that the ladies were slipping out of his grip.

Or perhaps Preston wasn’t lurking at all. Because of the missing bracelet, she might be imaging threats where none existed.

She had just led her brood in front of Rosa’s Boutique when the door to the general store opened and Minnie Jenkins stepped out, only yards away.

Leanna spun about and gathered her chicks about her. “Do exactly what I do. Say exactly what I say, and no matter what happens be proud of yourselves.

“Mrs. Jenkins!” Leanna strode forward with her hand outstretched and her smile beaming. “It’s lovely to see you.”

Minnie Jenkins, always poised, forever refined, stood like a deer caught gazing down the barrel of a hunter’s gun.

Leanna pumped Minnie’s hand up and down. “Please tell Ellie that I miss her and I look forward to calling on her.”

Minnie’s lips drew tight against her teeth. “I most certainly will no—”

Lucinda stepped forward to grasp the stricken Minnie’s hand. “Mrs. Jenkins, it’s lovely to meet you.”

Mrs. Jenkins tried to wipe her hand on her skirt but it was taken up by Dorothy, then Massie and Cassie. Each of the ladies greeted her with wide smiles and wishes to make the pleasure of Ellie’s acquaintance.

By this time Minnie looked as though she might faint dead away on the boardwalk. Now was the perfect time to press Aggie forward.

“Minnie,” Leanna said, holding the reluctant Aggie about the waist and pulling her forward. “This is our Aggie. I’m sure you’ve heard the things that Preston Van Slyck has been saying about her. Most of them were never true and the things that were true no longer are.”

Henry Stokes stood in the doorway, his pale blue eyes shifting between Leanna and Minnie. He gripped a broom in his hand and pretended to sweep. The man was a gossip. No doubt embellished tales of this encounter would be the talk of the town until a new tale came along.

Minnie swayed on her feet. Dorothy slipped a steadying arm about her shoulder. Aghast, Minnie yanked backward and tumbled into the arms of Lucinda, who set her upright.

“Do have a care, Mrs. Jenkins,” Lucinda cooed in exaggerated concern.

Speechless, maybe forever, the shocked woman stomped away.

“You did beautifully, ladies.” Leanna beamed at her charges. She turned to Henry Stokes, whose bushy brown hair stood on end more than it usually did. “A round of hard candy for everyone, Henry.”

“Yes…certainly, Miss Leanna. I’ll bring that right out. And there’s a letter from your brother Quin.”

“No need to bring anything out, we’ll come inside,” she answered.

“But… That is, these women?”

“I, for one, need a new hair ribbon,” Cassie announced, and strode inside the general store.

Leanna couldn’t recall when she’d been so proud.

Hearts for Harlots would be a success in spite of the Mrs. Jenkinses of Cahill Crossing.

Nothing that Preston Van Slyck and his crew could do would stop her girls from the respectable lives they longed to lead.

Cleve stood several yards from where Leanna knelt between her mother’s grave and her father’s. He stood quietly with his hands folded in front of him while his wife spoke to her mother like there was not six feet of dirt and eternity between them.

She clutched the letter that she had received from Quin to her breast. It was creased with wear, having been opened and refolded a dozen times or more. His wife had even stuffed it into her corset and carried it close to her heart all last night while she worked.

“Mama,” Leanna said, spreading the letter open to the grass over the grave. She shook her head and showed it to the headstone. She pointed it upward, then smiled at the cloud-dappled sky.

“Look at this! Chances are you already know, but Quin gave Cleve and me a wedding gift. Land, Mama. He gave us a portion of the 4C. I’m coming home! Cleve and I, little Boodle and…” She glanced back at him. She whispered something to her mother that he didn’t hear.

“Aggie’s doing a bit better and the other ladies are coming right