Winning the Spinster's Heart (Clear Creek Brides #1) - Kit Morgan Page 0,6

bank while he was in town, so that’s what he’d do.

One step past the doors, he ran smack into Adele. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Liam White, why don’t you watch where you’re going!”

He rolled his eyes again. “In a hurry, are you?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “So what if I am?”

“You don’t have to make such a show of things.”

“I will if I want to,” she snapped. “Now out of my way. I have things to do.”

He smiled, took off his hat, bowed and walked past her.

“Now who’s making a show of things?” she said to his back.

Liam chuckled and kept going. Adele was pretty, but guaranteed to drive him plumb loco if he spent too much time with her. Then he stopped and looked back at the saloon, from which she was rapidly stomping away. The bank could wait – why not take a more direct approach to find out what was going on? He went back inside.

The usual patrons were there at this time of day, while Mr. Mulligan sat in a corner with a sandwich, going over a ledger. He looked up as Liam went to the bar. “Well, if it isn’t young Mr. White – what brings ye in?” he asked in his Irish brogue. “If it’s lunch, I’m afraid it’s oxtail soup and biscuits – nothing too exciting today.”

Liam followed his gaze. “I saw some of the womenfolk head in here earlier. They having a meeting upstairs?”

“That they are, laddie. The Cookes have a couple of guests from Nowhere staying at the hotel.”

Liam glanced around the saloon. Clear Creek didn’t have any serious drinkers. Most came for the food. For one, it was cheaper than eating at the hotel.

“Shall I take yer order and give it to Daisy in the kitchen?” Mr. Mulligan asked. “It’s a little early but I’m sure she won’t mind serving.”

“Yes, I think I will have a bite. And oxtail soup sounds fine.” He went to the nearest table and sat.

Paddy Mulligan groaned as he got to his feet. “Iced tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” With the train coming to Clear Creek now, ice was one of the luxuries brought in twice a week. In a few months, they’d harvest plenty of their own from the eponymous creek, but it was nice having it during the summer and fall as well.

As Mr. Mulligan shuffled to the kitchen, Liam thought about the women upstairs. His forehead furrowed. What was the difference between a dance and a ball? He’d never been to a ball – maybe they were bigger and fancier? The only dance he’d ever been to was the annual barbeque at the Triple-C Ranch. Adele’s family was part of the Cooke empire, and the ranch was growing by leaps and bounds. With the rails reaching town now, Adele’s father Colin and uncle Harrison were talking about shipping cattle to other parts of the country.

After a few moments, Mr. Mulligan brought him his iced tea. “Daisy will bring yer lunch right out.”

“Thanks, Mr. Mulligan.” He glanced at the ceiling and back. “What’s their meeting about?”

“I have no idea. Mary wouldn’t tell me.” He shook his head. “And I know it has nothing to do with the ladies sewing’ circle, as there’s too few women up there. Besides, not all the members could fit in my parlor.”

Liam nodded. “Hmmm. Well, I’m sure Mrs. Mulligan will tell you when they’re through.”

“Don’t count on it, lad. Mary can be tight-lipped when she wants to be. I think they’re cooking up some surprise, but for who I couldn’t say.” He returned to his table and got back to work.

Liam glanced at the ceiling once more, shrugged, then waited for his meal. He could always ask his mother – she was up there too. But Ma could keep a secret as well as Mrs. Mulligan.

Chapter Three

“Order, order!” Sadie rapped a wooden spoon against Mary Mulligan’s dining room table. The ladies in the room quieted and Sadie took a deep breath. “That’s better. Now are we all in agreement?”

“I say holding a dance in the street is still a bad idea,” Irene groused. “What if it rains?”

“At this time of year?” Fanny Fig argued. “Really, Irene, the chances of that happening are remote and you know it.”

“I don’t want folks dancing in front of my store!” Irene scrunched up her face and narrowed her eyes. It was her signature look and often struck terror into the best of them, but not Fanny. She and some of the other women had helped