The Bachelor Tax

Chapter Two

“Rosemary, much as I’d like to take you on, the store just doesn’t need another helping hand.”

Rosemary sighed deeply, as if she were sorely disappointed. And so she was, having just been refused work in the Edgewood Mercantile. Not that she felt equipped for the position. It was just that she wasn’t well equipped for much of anything outside a home. Keeping a parsonage neat and clean and ironing white shirts at the rate of seven a week for her father had not served to prepare her for the indignity of looking for a position.

“Maybe you can stay on and be a nursemaid to the new preacher’s little ones,” Phillipa Boone suggested. She sat atop her high stool in a rare moment of relaxation, eyeing the woebegone expression on Rosemary Gibson’s face.

Rosemary looked around the mercantile and sighed. At least there was no one else in the store to share in this moment of shame. To be turned down for her first job application was grating on her pride. Thank goodness Pip was a friend, else the embarrassment would have been unbearable.

“I doubt the new minister can afford to hire me. He looks about as penniless as the rest of his kind. And I ought to know, having lived in a parsonage all of my life.”

Glumly, she eyed the colorful display of fabrics on the counter before her. “And I can’t, in all good conscience, buy myself anything but dark colors for the next year. Papa wasn’t much one for mourning clothes, but my own self-respect is going to limit me.” She ran her fingers over a particularly bright floral print. “Not that I can afford anything new anyway.”

Pip Boone slid from her perch and leaned across the width of the counter. “You could always marry Gabe Tanner. He did ask, after all.” The challenge was whispered, as if the thought were too scandalous to be uttered aloud.

Rosemary’s lips pinched tightly together and she turned away. Ramrod straight, she headed for the doorway.

“Rosemary! Don’t leave. I was only funning you.” Phillipa scooted around the counter, her words calling a halt to Rosemary’s departure.

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t possibly marry that man. Even if he were serious, it would be…” Rosemary turned, her cheeks crimson, her breathing rapid. “It would be a sacrilege of the worst sort.”

Phillips’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing. “Now, how do you figure that?”

“He’s rowdy, for one thing.” The tip of her tongue delivered moisture to lips suddenly gone dry as Rosemary thought of the teasing grin she’d encountered only yesterday.

“Rowdy doesn’t seem too great a sin to me,” Phillipa said with a grin of her own.

“You know what I mean,” Rosemary told her. “Papa would turn over in his grave if I married a man who frequented the Golden Slipper. I let him know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t interested.” Her chin tilted as she considered the unexpected proposal she had received. “Mr. Tanner was only putting me on, anyway.”

Phillipa reached to lay a comforting hand on Rosemary’s shoulder. “But, you didn’t refuse him flat out, did you? You know, Rosemary, your papa would be pleased if you married a man who would treat you well, no matter if he did take a drink once in a while. And from what I hear, Gabe Tanner is far from a drinking man.”

Her eyes wrinkled in delight, as if she considered some pleasant thought. “He strikes me as the sort of man who might treat you even better than you know, Rosemary. And he’s very handsome.”

Rosemary’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Pip Boone! What a thing to say. The man uses vile language and partakes of hard liquor. Besides, I’d be willing to bet my bottom dollar that he was only offering marriage so that he wouldn’t have to pay the new Bachelor Tax.”

“Pooh! No man would propose marriage unless he was prepared to back it up, honey. Even Gabe Tanner wouldn’t take a chance like that, unless…” She glanced away.

“He was sure I’d say no, wasn’t he?” Rosemary’s eyes dampened with hasty tears, and she blinked them away. “He thought he wasn’t taking any kind of a chance at all, coming at me that way. He figured I’d turn him down flat.”

As if she’d been kicked by a recalcitrant mule, she clutched her stomach. “I think I’ve been insulted, Pip. I wish now I’d had the sense to make my position totally clear. I should have said no in a hundred ways, just to be sure he got the message.”

“Well, I think maybe you’re jumping to the wrong conclusion about him. The man probably decided his place needs a woman’s touch, and thought that a fine, upstanding preacher’s daughter would be the perfect choice.”

Phillipa’s staunch reply sounded a bit hollow, but Rosemary smiled anyway. “He looked at me as if I were a drudge all right. I didn’t see one speck of interest in his eyes, just that hateful way he has of looking at me sometimes, as if he can see beneath my clothes and doesn’t like what’s there.”

Phillipa’s eyes rounded and her lips twitched, then widened into a grin. “Why, Rosemary Gibson! You’ve peeked at Gabe Tanner before, haven’t you?”

Rosemary shook her head. “Peeked? I don’t peek. And I certainly—” She spun from Phillipa and looked out the wide front window of the emporium. “This is all a waste of time, anyway. I need to find a place to work and somewhere to stay, Pip. I can’t impose on Reverend Worth and his family much longer.”

“How long before their furniture comes?” Pip asked.

“He said it would be here in a week. That doesn’t give me much time.”

“You can move in with my folks,” Pip offered. “We always have room for one more.”

Rosemary shook her head. “You barely squeeze into that house as it is, Pip. I couldn’t do that.”

“How about a job at the newspaper office? Or maybe the hotel?”

Rosemary nodded. “I thought about working at the hotel, but I’m not sure I could earn enough to live on my own.”

“There’s only one way to find out. Just march on down there and see what Mr. Westcott has to say.”

“I’d surely like to lend a helping hand, Miss Gibson, but the only thing I could put you to work at is emptying slop jars and keeping the floors clean. And that’s stretching it. I’d only need you for about three hours a day. I doubt you could do much more than pay for your food and a bed at the boarding house down the street.” Samuel Westcott looked uncomfortable, standing before his desk, his hands clasped behind him.

“I’d surely like to do something to help you out, seeing as how your father was such a good influence on the town, and all.”

“Thank you, sir. I understand your position,” Rosemary told him, forcing a smile.

“Too bad you’re not a gentleman looking for work. I heard tell that Jason Stillwell is thinking about hiring an accountant.”

Rosemary felt a fine film of perspiration on her forehead as she listened to Samuel Westcott. “Yes, well, it seems that men have the upper hand all the way around, don’t they, sir?”

If she hadn’t been looking through a veil of hot tears, Rosemary would never have missed the ball rolling down the sidewalk. And if the man riding his horse had been looking the other way, he wouldn’t have caught sight of her slender legs as her dress flew up in a billowing flurry.

“Oh, my word!” One foot stepping directly on the leather-encased ball, Rosemary lost her balance. Her arms flapped uselessly, her hat slid over one eye, and her skirts settled around her knees as she landed on the wooden walkway.

“Oh, my,” she repeated, one hand pushing at her hat brim, the other pressing against her chest as she fought to gain her breath.

“Ma’am? Let me help you up.” Directly before her eyes a long-fingered, gloved hand offered assistance.

Rosemary lifted her gaze to find that Gabe Tanner’s was focused on the long length of her lower limbs, properly garbed in black, ribbed lisle hosiery. She shoved at her rumpled skirts, gaining a small amount of dignity as she managed to cover her knees and a good portion of her calves.

“Miss Gibson?” His eyes sparkled with humor as he wiggled his fingers in her direction. “I’d be happy to help you up.” He gripped her hand firmly and tugged, lifting her to stand before him. “Don’t know when I’ve had a young lady throw herself at my feet so nicely before.”

Rosemary’s cheeks burned with shame. “I tripped over something,” she said hastily, shaking her skirts and brushing her hands together. Her palms stung and her bottom felt bruised, but none of that bothered her nearly so much as the painful humiliation of this morning’s series of failures.

Tanner’s voice lowered. “I was only joshin’ you, Miss Gibson. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” He released her hand and she staggered at the absence of his touch.

“Ma’am? Can you walk? Are you all right?” He bent to look at her face, one gloved finger beneath her chin.

Rosemary ground her teeth together and glared at him. “I’m fine, thank you. Just a little…” There was no way in heaven she would reveal the particulars of her injury. It was enough that her ankle had twisted as she fell. Admitting to this man that she could not sustain her full weight on her right foot was beyond—

“Miss Gibson, I don’t believe you can walk, can you?”

“Of course, I can. Just be on your way. I’ll be fine, as soon as I catch my breath for a few moments.”

She lowered her right foot to the sidewalk again, gingerly testing it, then balanced precariously on the toe of her boot. Measuring the distance to the emporium, across the street and down past the bank, she drew a deep breath and bit at her lip.

Gabe Tanner backed away, his eyes skeptical, as if he gauged her ability to walk. “You know, ma’am, I can sling you over my horse and take you home, quick as a wink.”

“That won’t be necessary.” She moved gingerly, turning from him and taking two painful steps, only to find herself caught up in strong arms and pressed against a firm chest.

The smell of leather and horseflesh, tinged with a more intangible scent, filled her nostrils. Like fresh hay in the fields, she decided, not at all what she would have expected, and then shook her head at the fanciful thought.

He shifted her in his arms, gripping more firmly beneath her thighs. “You’re just being foolish, ma’am, tryin’ to walk when something is hurtin’ you. What’d you do? Twist your ankle?”

“Yes, I suppose I did,” she blurted, her embarrassment made complete by her position, as he strode across the dusty street.

“I’ll just…” He stopped, halfway across the wide expanse and looked down at her, frowning. “Where am I takin’ you, ma’am? Where are you stayin’ these days? Maybe I’d do better to load you on my horse to get you there?”

Rosemary closed her eyes against the utter humiliation of this day. “Just let me down, sir. I’ll make my way alone.”

He sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “Can’t do that, Miss Gibson. You’d fall on your face, and my mama would roll over if she knew I’d treated a lady so badly.”

“So far, you’ve proposed to me under false pretenses and made a public spectacle of me, carrying me down the middle of the street. How much worse could it get?” she asked, stiffening her body within his hold.

He tightened his grip. “If you don’t stop wiggling, sweetheart, I’ll drop you. And then you will be in a fix.” His eyes darkened, and he glowered at her as if he wished he’d never sullied his hands with her.

She closed her eyes. “Just across the street, please. I’ll walk from there.” Her hands seemed useless appendages, and she folded her arms firmly across her breasts, making fists of her fingers, lest she be tempted to push them against him in a bid for release.

He bounced her in his arms again, as if to get a better grip, and her breath escaped in an audible puff of air. The brim of Rosemary’s hat tilted precariously over her forehead and she was sure that her lower limbs were on view to whoever might be observing from the sidewalk.

The urge to weep was almost irresistible, and she drove her fingernails into her palms, gritting her teeth against the impulse. In moments, Tanner stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk and deftly lowered her to her feet.

“There you go, ma’am. I hope I’ve been of some service to you.”

She cast him a sidelong look, her hands busy with brushing her skirts into place. “Yes, I’m sure you have, Mr. Tanner. You’ve been a real blessing.”

He clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Was that a note of sarcasm I heard? And after all I’ve done?”

He was drawing a crowd, Rosemary realized, suddenly aware of the ladies who had stepped from the bank. A handful of old gentlemen lingered nearby, their trip to the emporium for their usual game of cribbage interrupted by her misfortune.

“Just go away, sir,” she managed to whisper, the appearance of tears becoming a real possibility.

He was silent for a moment, unmoving before her, and Rosemary drew in a quavering breath, wishing she might just vanish from this place and from his presence.

Tanner’s fingers gripped her chin and he tilted her face upward, peering down into her eyes. “Are you gonna cry, sweetheart?”

“No! I never cry,” she lied, even as a tear escaped from each eye.

Damn, he was in a spot. Half the town was within hearing distance and he was in over his head, trying to make amends for being a gentleman for once in his life. Even as he mulled over his options, a tear dropped to the front of her dingy dress and soaked into the dark fabric.

She was about the most pitiful sight he’d seen in a month of Sundays, with most all of her hair twisted up somewhere beneath that drooping hat she wore, only bits and pieces of it peeking out. It wasn’t the dark brown he’d thought, but a pretty color, sort of brown and red put together. And somehow she’d managed to hide it under the ugliest piece of black straw he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Ma’am?” His fingers tightened their grip, and he saw her wince. With a grunt of regret, he released her chin, aware of the soft texture of the skin he’d probably bruised with his clumsy touch. Her mouth quivered, and he watched even, white teeth clamp down on her lower lip.

“Ma’am, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured, aware that the ladies who had stepped closer were probably being eaten alive with curiosity. He’d almost put his head in the noose once with this female. Now he’d managed to get himself in a hullabaloo with folks looking on.

“I’m fine, Mr. Tanner. You may go on your way.” She looked to be balanced pretty well on both feet, and Gabe stepped back, sweeping his hat from his head.

“I’m glad I was able to be of service, ma’am,” he mumbled for the benefit of the onlookers. “You’d better get that ankle looked at.” His gaze dropped to where her foot was barely grazing the wood beneath it, only the toe of her boot brushing the sidewalk.

Maybe he should…Hell, no! He wasn’t about to make any offers. He could just see himself pulling off her boot and running his hands over her foot and the bones of her ankle. Then he would be in hot water with the fine female citizenry of Edgewood. They’d have him at the altar in no time flat.

Yet, Rosemary’s legs had been most appealing, he admitted to himself, almost grinning at the memory. Curving up from the top of her low boots, they’d been a tempting sight. He’d warrant her feet were narrow and well formed, her ankles slender.

“Rosemary, are you all right?” From out of nowhere, Phillipa Boone arrived, breathless and concerned.

“She tripped on a ball in front of the hotel,” Tanner offered. “I helped her across the street, but she says she can walk now.”

Phillipa nodded. “I saw you carrying her from my front window.” Her lips curled into a knowing grin. “I’m sure you were a big help, sir.”

Tanner replaced his hat, tugging the brim down sharply over his brow. “I’ll be on my way. Hope your foot’s all right, Miss Gibson.”

He turned from the gathering, aware of Phillipa Boone’s words of commiseration and the answering murmur of Rosemary’s voice. What a mess. Twice now, he’d been in close proximity with the woman. He’d better keep his distance before the creature thought he really was interested in her.

His steps quickened as he headed for his horse, and with a final glance at the ladies who were intent on tending to the preacher’s daughter, he rode toward the livery stable. Bates Comstock greeted him with a grin. “What’s this I hear about you offering for Gibson’s girl, Tanner? You plannin’ on bein’ domesticated like the rest of us?”

Gabe felt a shudder of dread down the length of his spine. “It got me out of payin’ the Bachelor Tax, and that’s a fact. Damn tax is ridiculous anyway. Why the town thinks it has to meddle is beyond me.”

“They’re tryin’ to raise money for the new schoolhouse they want to build.”

“Hell, if they count on the new tax to pay the bill, it’ll be a long time till the first wall goes up. There’s not that many bachelors around these parts.”

“What are you doin’ in town, Tanner?” Bates asked.

“Fact is, I was on my way to see you when Miss Gibson took a fall out in front of the hotel. I carted her across the street and let Pip Boone take over with her.”

“You’re gettin’ in deep, boy. You’d do well to steer clear of that gal, or she’ll be takin’ you up on your offer.”

Tanner kicked at a stone, venting his irritation, one hand propped on his hip. “Forget it, Bates. She’s not about to take me on, and that’s that. Now, I need to know how many horses you want from my place. I’m givin’ you first pick.”

Bates slid his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I need three or four. Town’s growin’ and I get calls most every week for a carriage or somebody lookin’ to buy a horse. Your animals broke to harness?”

Gabe shrugged. “Whatever you’re lookin’ for, I’ve probably got. I’m cullin’ out some of the three-year-olds, those that are saddle-broke and a couple I’ve been working with, pulling my buggy.”

“Let me come out tomorrow and take a look,” Bates said. “How are the prices?”

Tanner grinned. “High. I’ve got the best horses in east Texas, and you know that as well as I do.”

“What are you gonna do with the rest of them?”

“There’s a dealer in Shreveport ready to take anything I’ve got to sell.”

Bates nodded. “I’d best beat him to it then, hadn’t I? I’ll be out in the morning.”

“If I were a man I could have a job doing the accounts for Mr. Stillwell at the Golden Slipper,” Rosemary said, propping her chin on her fist, one foot stretched before her with a cool cloth covering her ankle.

“Don’t even think it,” Pip said sharply. “Even if you were a man, you wouldn’t want to work for a saloon keeper.”

“Not much chance anyway,” Rosemary said with a defeated shrug. “He’d never hire any kin of my father. They were on opposite sides of the fence till the day papa died.”

Pip bent over the injured foot and lifted the towel, swinging it in the air to cool it. “I’ll bet you’re going to be laid up for a couple of days,” she pronounced grimly. “You’ve really done it, Rosemary. I’ll tell you what. As soon as I lock up here, I’ll give you a shoulder to lean on and walk you home.”

The thought of stepping with her full weight on the swollen ankle made Rosemary wince, but there was no getting around it. The parsonage was over two hundred feet from the back door of the store, and she needed help.

The sun was heading for the horizon when the two young women turned the corner and the humble home Rosemary had shared with her father came into view. Before it, a large wagon was backed to the gate, and several men were unloading pieces of furniture.

“I thought it wouldn’t be arriving for three more days,” Rosemary said quietly, too upset by this turn of events to hold back the tears that filled her eyes.

“Where is your furniture?” Pip asked, as a large sofa was turned on end to fit through the doorway.

Rosemary was beyond speech and only shook her head.

“Miss Gibson!” The tall figure of James Worth hastened to where the two women stood. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come and get you when the wagon arrived. We’ve been busy unloading, as you can see. I fear we had to put your things out on the grass, and these gentlemen will load them on the wagon and take them to the livery stable until you can decide what to do with them.”

“All right,” Rosemary answered stoutly, blinking her eyes, determined not to show the sorrow that filled her to brimming. She’d known for three days that a decision must be made, and now she was out in the cold. No miracle had occurred. No angels had appeared to wave their wings on her behalf.

If only Lars Jorgenson had not been set aside for another, she might even now be fixing the evening meal for her husband.

And at that thought, she burst into tears.

Chapter Three

The back door to the saloon was tightly shut, only a crack of light appearing below the heavy pine portal. Rosemary stood in the darkness and listened to the sounds from within. A woman’s laughter rippled past her hearing, then the lower tones of a man’s voice, accompanied by a thumping beat as music from the front of the saloon filtered through the crowd.

Her dark clothing hid her from those who might be passing by the alleyway, a narrow lane running between the town’s business community and a row of houses behind it. Rosemary lifted her hand and formed a fist, rapping hesitantly on the wooden panel.

From within, there was no cessation of sound, only an additional voice added to the others. “I don’t care if you just rinse them out. Get those glasses back to the bar. Ain’t there any warm water on the stove?”

The female answered with assurance. “I’m neither cook nor dishwasher, Jason. You’re just lucky I’m good-natured, or I wouldn’t be helpin’ out.”

“And you’re lucky I’m payin’ you good money for sashayin’ your fanny across that stage, Laura Lee. Most places, you’d be workin’ for tips from your gentlemen friends out front.”