The Bachelor Tax. Carolyn Davidson

I thought about that all day, how I’d risked my neck. Made me crave a touch of the hard stuff.” Tanner considered his empty glass. One drink was all he ever allowed himself, the perils of overindulgence being brought home to him by the memory of his own father. He turned the tumbler upside down and sighed his aggravation at his own good sense.

      With a whisk of his towel and a quick hand on the heavy glass, Jason cleaned away the evidence of Tanner’s single drink for the night. “Gonna stay around to hear my new piano player?” he asked idly, his gaze on the big upright at the end of the bar.

      Tanner shook his head. “Naw. I need to head on back.”

      “You’re gonna miss a real treat. I brought him in from St. Louis. Just got here this morning. A friend back there told me about him, said the young man was wantin’ to try his fortune in the West, and I thought I’d give him a chance.”

      “Just got here this morning? I saw everyone who got off the train, Jason. Didn’t know you’d taken to hiring family men for your place.”

      Jason’s brow puckered. “He’s as much a bachelor as you, Tanner. Take a look—here he comes now.”

      Down the stairway, a golden-haired Adonis approached, a wide smile on his lips. He lifted a hand in greeting to the man behind the bar and headed for the piano. His hands lifted the lid over the keyboard in a reverent gesture, and he seated himself on the stool.

      “Damn, that thing never sounded so good before,” Jason said in a subdued tone, as music spilled from the fingers of the talented young man who bent low over the black-and-white keys.

      “That’s your new piano player?” Tanner leaned back, both elbows resting on the walnut surface behind him.

      “Yup! What do you think?” Jason’s words were filled with pride as he considered his new employee.

      “I think he looks more like a preacher. In fact, that’s what I thought he was,” Tanner muttered. “And I’ll warrant that’s what Miss High-and-Mighty thought he was, too.”

      “Miss High-and-Mighty? Are we talking about Miss Gibson? Has she met my new piano player?”

      “She met the train this morning,” Tanner said, his gaze resting on the man who was filling the saloon with music.

      “She thought Dex Sawyer was the new preacher?” Jason Stillwell wore an astonished look as his towel moved faster across the surface of his bar. “Holy cats, Tanner. She turned you down because she thought…”

      “Yeah.” Gabe faced the bar. “I wonder what happened to the man she was expecting to see this morning.”

      “If we’re still talkin’ about the new preacher, I can answer that. He’s all settled in at the parsonage already, him and his wife and two children.” Jason’s mouth turned down in an expression of gloom. “Probably already plottin’ how he can put a dent in my business. These preachers can’t leave well enough alone, always have to be convertin’ my crowd, instead of stickin’ to their own.”

      “I heard tell the new fella was single, and Miss Gibson thought she stood a chance of sharing the parsonage with him,” Tanner said casually.

      Jason shook his head. “Who knows? Must be somebody changed their mind.”

      “Well, if a whole new family’s coming in, I wonder where the spinster’s going to live?” Tanner asked.

      Jason shrugged. “Who’s to know. Probably have to find herself a house, or rent a room somewhere. I imagine she’ll get a job. If she stays around town, that is. Maybe she’s got family back East she can go live with.”

      “Maybe.” Tanner eyed the bottles on the shelf behind the bar. A dark, lethal-looking liquid appealed to him, and he wet his lips as he considered the jolt it would bring.

      “Thought you were goin’ home,” Jason said, following the path of Tanner’s interested gaze. “Never knew you to take a second drink, Tanner. Is thinking about that Gibson woman drivin’ you to—”

      Tanner backed away. “There’s no woman alive capable of doing that, Jason. Certainly not that one.”

      Tanner pushed through the doors of the saloon and headed for the livery stable. Just outside the wide double doors, his wagon awaited him, his load of supplies for the ranch neatly in place.

      He climbed atop the wagon seat, and with a wave, turned his team toward the ranch. It was a decent ride, almost an hour driving the wagon. Maybe with the moonlight on the road, he could take the team at a faster clip.

      Either way, it was time to reflect on his blessings. He’d managed to save himself a tidy sum today.

      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