sheltered from any kind of danger, perhaps even the likes of Mr. Matthews.
Both men were handsome, virile, and gave me the attention I expected—and longed for—from a suitor. Why were they being equally attentive and if the time ever came, how could I choose just one?
"We have heard the Arnolds have sold the boarding house," Mr. Quinn commented.
"Yes. The new owners will be taking over the business before Christmas."
"What of you?" Mr. Porter asked.
"I am a temptation the new owner's wife does not want near her husband, therefore I will seek employment elsewhere."
One of the men hmphed. "Your family lives in Miles City, I believe," Mr. Porter added. He remembered that small detail from a previous conversation.
I nodded. "Yes, my family is quite large and I would just be one more mouth to feed. Do not worry yourselves, I will be fine." I didn't feel quite that way, but I did not need to share that. The men stopped and Mr. Quinn turned to me. He was so close the buttons of his jacket brushed against my breasts through the fabric of mine. I had to tilt my head up to look at him. Mr. Porter stepped in close so that his front was against my back. I was surrounded. The combined feel of them, their scent, was heady.
"You will come to us if you ever have need," Mr. Quinn said. It had not been spoken as a question, but more a command.
While the needs he had in mind probably leaned toward moving a trunk to the stage, my mind turned to my more carnal needs I'd like him to fulfill. I felt myself flush.
"Both of us," Mr. Porter added with a deep voice and finality over my shoulder. His warm breath fanned over my nape and I shivered once again, this time for an entirely different reason.
***
"Marry?" I asked, my voice high pitched.
"I am a Justice of the Peace," the sheriff countered, as if I were questioning his abilities.
I took a step back, broadening the distance from Mr. Porter. "You want to marry me?" My heart was about to gallop out of my chest.
"I thought my attentions had been clear enough, but perhaps I was wrong."
I swallowed, but it was hard to form my thoughts, let alone a sentence. "But...I mean, that is...oh."
He took a step, then another so he could take my hands. Frowning, he worked the gloves off and tossed them to the floor, clearly frustrated he could not touch my skin directly. When he did, I gasped, the contact like lightning in a summer storm. I flicked a gaze up to his and he grinned.
"You should have come to me, to us—" he angled his head toward Quinn, "—instead of running away."
"I...I wasn't running from you."
"You need not worry about Mr. Matthews and his lies, for we know they are such."
"He told people I...I did things with him and that I stole from him." Tears burned the back of my eyes; the pressure of the man's avarice and mean plans was crumbling my resolve.
A finger beneath my chin tipped my head up. "Oh no. Don't succumb now. You've been so strong, so brave."
His words, not anything Mr. Matthews had done, had a tear slipping down my cheek and Porter wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "We know you are innocent, in every way."
"Then why did you pull me from the stage as if I were guilty?" I asked.
"You would not listen," Mr. Quinn said. "You needed a firm hand."
I wanted to contradict him, but Mr. Porter—Porter, cut in. "It worked, didn't it? We will be firm with you if the need strikes." He paused and let that settle in. "Now then, I apologize if my attentions were not clear enough for you. Please know, I have had my heart set on you from the first time we met."
My eyes widened. "That was two years ago!"
He grinned. "You're mine, Allison. You've been mine all along. Just say yes and I will make up for all the lost attention." He leaned in so that only I could hear. "I promise you will not doubt my interest, for it is very, very eager."
I licked my lips at the idea of this big, burly, virile man being eager. His size blocked out the others in the
Both men were handsome, virile, and gave me the attention I expected—and longed for—from a suitor. Why were they being equally attentive and if the time ever came, how could I choose just one?
"We have heard the Arnolds have sold the boarding house," Mr. Quinn commented.
"Yes. The new owners will be taking over the business before Christmas."
"What of you?" Mr. Porter asked.
"I am a temptation the new owner's wife does not want near her husband, therefore I will seek employment elsewhere."
One of the men hmphed. "Your family lives in Miles City, I believe," Mr. Porter added. He remembered that small detail from a previous conversation.
I nodded. "Yes, my family is quite large and I would just be one more mouth to feed. Do not worry yourselves, I will be fine." I didn't feel quite that way, but I did not need to share that. The men stopped and Mr. Quinn turned to me. He was so close the buttons of his jacket brushed against my breasts through the fabric of mine. I had to tilt my head up to look at him. Mr. Porter stepped in close so that his front was against my back. I was surrounded. The combined feel of them, their scent, was heady.
"You will come to us if you ever have need," Mr. Quinn said. It had not been spoken as a question, but more a command.
While the needs he had in mind probably leaned toward moving a trunk to the stage, my mind turned to my more carnal needs I'd like him to fulfill. I felt myself flush.
"Both of us," Mr. Porter added with a deep voice and finality over my shoulder. His warm breath fanned over my nape and I shivered once again, this time for an entirely different reason.
***
"Marry?" I asked, my voice high pitched.
"I am a Justice of the Peace," the sheriff countered, as if I were questioning his abilities.
I took a step back, broadening the distance from Mr. Porter. "You want to marry me?" My heart was about to gallop out of my chest.
"I thought my attentions had been clear enough, but perhaps I was wrong."
I swallowed, but it was hard to form my thoughts, let alone a sentence. "But...I mean, that is...oh."
He took a step, then another so he could take my hands. Frowning, he worked the gloves off and tossed them to the floor, clearly frustrated he could not touch my skin directly. When he did, I gasped, the contact like lightning in a summer storm. I flicked a gaze up to his and he grinned.
"You should have come to me, to us—" he angled his head toward Quinn, "—instead of running away."
"I...I wasn't running from you."
"You need not worry about Mr. Matthews and his lies, for we know they are such."
"He told people I...I did things with him and that I stole from him." Tears burned the back of my eyes; the pressure of the man's avarice and mean plans was crumbling my resolve.
A finger beneath my chin tipped my head up. "Oh no. Don't succumb now. You've been so strong, so brave."
His words, not anything Mr. Matthews had done, had a tear slipping down my cheek and Porter wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "We know you are innocent, in every way."
"Then why did you pull me from the stage as if I were guilty?" I asked.
"You would not listen," Mr. Quinn said. "You needed a firm hand."
I wanted to contradict him, but Mr. Porter—Porter, cut in. "It worked, didn't it? We will be firm with you if the need strikes." He paused and let that settle in. "Now then, I apologize if my attentions were not clear enough for you. Please know, I have had my heart set on you from the first time we met."
My eyes widened. "That was two years ago!"
He grinned. "You're mine, Allison. You've been mine all along. Just say yes and I will make up for all the lost attention." He leaned in so that only I could hear. "I promise you will not doubt my interest, for it is very, very eager."
I licked my lips at the idea of this big, burly, virile man being eager. His size blocked out the others in the
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