way. My men give him a hand with that sometimes, so having Toby with you should help. You make certain the man satisfies our agreement. If he complains too much, remind him that his own wife and their pretty young daughter witnessed the deal, you got that?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Bridger watched through the window as a lumbering form that could only be Frank skulked into the boardinghouse. He coughed to cover his distraction. “Anything else?”
“Actually, I have another job for you, if you’re interested. You said you like carpentry, right? Woodwork?”
Bridger nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Miss Martin needs some coffins. She told me yesterday she used the last her pa had made before he passed. She needs a few on hand, you see.” Ike pulled a cigar from the box on the stand next to him, offering one.
Bridger shook his head. “Coffins, Mr. Tyler?”
“Right. Her pa handled all aspects of the business, you know? Lola helped prepare the bodies and made it nice for the families and such, but...”
“But she can’t build the caskets,” Bridger supplied.
“Yes. She wants to speak with you herself—independent woman that way. I told her I’d introduce you, but I wanted to ask you myself, as well.”
“Why’s that?”
“Some men wouldn’t take kindly to working for a woman.”
“If the pay is fair, I have no problem with that. Her money will spend as well as a man’s, I reckon.”
“I hoped you’d think that way. You can work out the particulars with her, but I still want you working for me, you understand. This would be extra, on your own time.”
Bridger rubbed his chin and smiled. “I appreciate that. No reason why I can’t handle both. I need the money.” He glanced around the sitting area. His feet sank into the plush carpet, its rich colors in stark contrast to his worn boots.
“So I gathered,” Ike said. His eyes took on an almost predatory gleam for an instant, and Bridger felt the man’s gaze pass through him.
He hoped Frank had tucked himself in their room without anyone the wiser.
Ike took a long draw on his cigar, puffing rings of smoke into the air. “One other thing—”
Bridger jerked to his feet. “Yes, sir?”
Ike took another drag on his cigar. “I’d consider it a personal favor if you’d keep an eye on Miss Martin—Lola. I’d feel better knowing someone’s looking out for her.”
He’d wondered about the two of them as he watched them talking at the cemetery earlier. No surprise a businessman with an eye for fine things would be taken with a smart, beautiful woman like Miss Martin. Still, she hadn’t seemed any shrinking violet that needed looking after by Ike. “Why is that?”
“Because someone should. Woman alone out here, even in a town as dull and quiet as Quiver Creek, she needs looking after. I trust you—and it wouldn’t be wise to break that trust.”
Bridger shifted his stance and narrowed his gaze. “Trust goes both ways, sir...but you can count on me. If you don’t mind my saying so, though, I’d have thought you might want to handle that yourself, after I saw you talking with her this morning.”
Ike twisted in his seat to snub out his cigar, his thin lips pulling to a sharp grin. “I had my chance. And it wouldn’t be a lie to say I hope to have another. But for now, she’d not stand for it. I figure if you work for her, you’ll have opportunity to keep an eye on her for me.”
“She might not even hire me, Mr. Tyler. I didn’t exactly make my finest impression, bringing the sheriff’s body to her door like I did.”
“She’ll come around to you sooner than she will me. I wanted to be sure we had an understanding about Miss Martin, before you had reason to spend time around her.” Ike stood, almost a head above Bridger. “Most men in town realize how things lie and stay away from her. But you’re new here, so I thought you might like the information up front.”
Bridger squared his shoulders. Ike had nothing to fear from him. Fine, independent women like Lola Martin wanted nothing to do with his kind. Besides, he had no time for sparking a lady. Not until he had a place of his own, something to offer...but it didn’t mean he appreciated being warned off like a rabid dog. His jaw clenched. “I understand you fine, boss.”
Ike stepped back. “I’m glad to hear that, Bridger. You remember that, and you and I will get along fine.”
Bridger walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “I understand all right, sir,” he said, “and you’ll have no problem with me. I got enough troubles of my own without adding a woman to the mix.”
* * *
Under the overhang, Lola smoothed long wisps of hair behind her ears. She placed her hand at her waist and breathed, slow and deep. Just outside the swinging doors, warm dry scents of sage blowing off the bluff mixed with lingering smells of oversweet liquor and cigar smoke from the previous night.
Lola hated this place. Hated the fact it represented the biggest gathering place Quiver Creek could offer and the only restaurant in town. But mostly, she hated that her father had been killed here.
Lola ran a hand over her eyes and drew herself up, refusing to give in to the memories of her father’s body lying on the dingy bed, the drunken drifter denying his involvement with adamant pleas.
It didn’t sit well that she’d once considered the owner her beau, either. What had she been thinking? She huffed and stepped through the doors, almost crashing into Ike.
“Lola! I expected you earlier. Mr. Jamison should be over soon, unless you’d like me to call him.”
Lola shook her head. “I can wait.”
Ike swept a chair out with a grand flourish. “I’ll be glad to wait with you, make the proper introductions if you like.”
She didn’t like, not at all. She and Ike had been friends before their courtship and continued to be afterward, but today it only added to the heavy press she felt over the past few days.
She sat and chucked the seat closer to the table. She tapped her foot, trying to think of something to say. Silence stretched, empty and hollow.
“You’re looking as lovely as ever, Lola, if I may say so.”
She smiled. Ike had said so—often. And to many other women during their courtship, leading to their broken engagement. But it didn’t change her reaction to his smile. They’d made a handsome pair....
Light footsteps came from the stairway and they both turned. “I need to step out for some errands before the crowd shows, Ike.” Mattie? Not the person she wanted to cross paths with today. Lola tried hard to be pleasant to the woman, thankful—truly—that she’d opened her eyes to the kind of man Ike was. Mattie’s personality sparkled. She knew Mattie was more than just a good-time girl who urged the men into buying more drinks, and she didn’t envy her the life she’d chosen. But she was beautiful, with well-pinked cheeks, bright blue eyes and a dimpled smile, full of curves and fun.
Lola glanced down at her second-best dress. Faded, flat, dim—like the last rose of summer compared to a spring daisy. She adjusted her skirt and forced a smile.
“How have you been, Mattie?”
“Just fine, sweetie. Business is good and keeps me busy.”
I’m sure of that. She shook herself, irritated at her unkind thoughts. Mattie’s answer wasn’t intended to bring the blush that Lola felt warm her face. But Mattie was just...Mattie.
“See you later, sugar.” The woman’s long fingers trailed across Ike’s shoulders and Lola felt another pang of unpleasantness sweep through her.
Lola