The Redemption Of Jake Scully. Elaine Barbieri
he hits her?” Lacey was stunned. “Why does she let him do that to her?”
“Life is sometimes hard for a woman out here, Lacey, especially somebody like Rosie who doesn’t have much to fall back on. I guess she figures she’s better off with Riley than without him.”
“But—”
“I know. It’s not right or fair.”
“But—”
“But that’s the way things are.”
Voices at the door turned Sadie’s attention to the four cowpokes who entered and sat down at a table. She said, “It looks like the restaurant’s open whether I’m ready or not. You’d better get started with the customers, Lacey. We’re going to fill up in here in a hurry.”
Lacey looked at Rosie.
“But take care of Rosie first. Like you said, she looks like she doesn’t feel too good.”
Lacey nodded. She swallowed the thickness in her throat as she turned in Rosie’s direction.
“You’re looking very fine today, Lacey.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gould. What can I get for you this morning?”
Barret smiled his practiced smile as Lacey awaited his reply. He had entered the busy restaurant for breakfast a few minutes earlier, as he had for the past few days since Lacey started working there. He knew he made a good appearance. He knew his clothes were impressive, and that the deference the customers of the restaurant showed him made him stand out favorably in Lacey’s mind. He also knew gaining Lacey’s confidence could be useful in so many ways.
He looked at Lacey as she smiled at him, showing even, white teeth with a candid, guileless expression.
He said softly, “You forgot to call me Barret, Lacey.”
To her credit, Lacey managed a demure flush. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I’d like us to be friends.” Responding to her initial inquiry, he said, “I’ll have some of Sadie’s fine hotcakes and eggs this morning, but I know they couldn’t be any finer than the service.”
Barret complimented himself on the inroads he was certain he had made into Lacey’s esteem as she returned to work and he nodded at the familiar faces quickly filling the restaurant. Amused, he watched the cowhands at a nearby table scramble to retrieve a fork Lacey had dropped. He almost laughed. She had everyone fooled with her innocent appearance—everyone but him. He wondered what they would think if they knew how carefully she was guarding her real reason for returning to Weaver.
Those thoughts were still prominent in Barret’s mind when Lacey returned with his breakfast in hand. He patted her slender, ladylike hand as she placed his plate on the table and he commented, “Reverend Sykes and I look forward to seeing you at Sunday services this weekend.”
Withdrawing her hand, Lacey responded, “Yes, I’m looking forward to attending services, too.”
She walked quickly back to the counter to retrieve another customer’s breakfast. Barret turned under the weight of someone’s stare to see Jake Scully looking at him from the doorway. Scully did not return his smile of acknowledgment and Barret turned his attention to his breakfast in an effort to conceal his anger at the slight.
Barret inwardly smarted. He had never liked Jake Scully. Scully had never shown him the same respect that other residents of Weaver displayed toward him. As unbelievable as it seemed, he had the feeling Jake Scully looked down on him.
On him!
Actually, he was astounded that a man of the world like Scully could possibly have deceived himself into believing Lacey had left the refinement of city life behind and returned to Weaver without having greater prospects in mind. Could he possibly believe Lacey had come “home” because of a sense of obligation to him?
If so, he was a fool.
Barret watched covertly as Scully settled himself at a corner table. Scully’s gaze was fixed on Lacey with an intensity that appeared almost proprietary, and Barret’s questions were answered.
Jake Scully—a man who had seen it all, taken in by the wiles of a cunning woman!
The thought was delicious.
He didn’t like it…not one little bit.
Scully scrutinized the patrons who had filled Sadie’s restaurant to capacity although the day had hardly begun. His breakfast lay untouched in front of him as Lacey moved between the tables serving customers.
He seethed.
He watched as Barret Gould again called Lacey to his table, as Barret looked up at her with his suave, cultivated smile. His stomach churned as Barret stood up and whispered into Lacey’s ear before paying his bill, his hand lingering on hers a second too long.
He hadn’t needed that display to realize Lacey was out of her depth here. Lacey was too naive, too sincere. She wasn’t experienced with the divergent personalities frequenting Sadie’s establishment—just as Sadie’s customers weren’t accustomed to a person like Lacey.
Nor was Lacey accustomed to or deserving of the type of treatment she was subjected to by them. He had heard the occasional complaints if the food took too long in reaching the table, the demands that kept Lacey running. He had noted the assumptions about her instinctively friendly manner. One misguided cowhand had actually whistled to get her attention! True, Lacey seemed to handle it all gracefully, but it galled him.
As Scully watched, a young cowpoke summoned Lacey back to his table for the fourth time, smiling broadly. Obviously intent on impressing her, he joked and teased until Sadie called her away with a flimsy excuse. He saw the table of cowboys seated nearby whisper as Lacey passed, then laugh aloud. He noted the glances two matrons seated nearby exchanged when their husbands followed Lacey’s progress across the room with more than common interest, and he observed with growing heat the drummer who called Lacey to his table, then pressed a coin into her hand with a wink. If that man thought he could buy his way into Lacey’s affections—
“Say now, what does a fella have to do in here to get some service?” Scully’s rioting thoughts were interrupted by the loud complaint of an unshaven cowpoke who stood up unsteadily at his table and slurred, “I’ve been waiting an hour in here, Sadie. Ain’t your new girl going to wait on me? I’m a good customer!”
Scully tensed. Everyone in the restaurant knew Jud Hall had walked through the doorway only a few minutes previously, just as everyone knew Jud was trouble. He knew, because he had tossed the drunken cowpoke out of his saloon on too many occasions to count.
Tensing, Scully watched as Lacey approached Jud, her face hot. He saw Jud’s face change as she drew closer. He didn’t like what Jud was obviously thinking when Lacey said, “What would you like Sadie to make for you this morning?”
A leering Jud answered, “Maybe I don’t want Sadie to make nothin’ for me this morning, darlin’. Maybe I want you to cook me my breakfast.”
Interrupting from her place beside the stove, Sadie called out, “I’m the cook in this restaurant, Jud. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”
“Maybe I don’t want to leave.” His leer turning aggressive, Jud continued, “Maybe I want this girlie here to—”
Scully was on his feet in a flash. Gripping Jud by the back of the neck, he paid no attention to the chairs that scraped out of his way and the customers who dodged Jud’s flailing arms and legs as he propelled him toward the door. He waited deliberately until Jud hit the street with a thud before walking back into the restaurant and closing the door behind him. He did not look at Lacey as he slapped his coin down beside his uneaten breakfast, then walked over to her and said in a voice meant for her ears alone, “When you finish up work here today, tell Sadie you’re not coming back.”