The Bachelor Tax. Carolyn Davidson

her eyes shining as she spoke.

      From either side of her, Rosemary noted the departure of the two women. Probably didn’t want to associate with a man who made his living at the saloon, she thought. He turned to Rosemary, and his eyes were kind. “I don’t mean to infringe on your privacy, Miss Gibson, but I wondered if you had found employment yet, or a place to live.”

      Pip turned away, Dex’s list in her hand, gathering items from the shelves. Rosemary shook her head.

      “No, not yet. I can’t pay rent for a room until I have some income. I fear it’s a vicious circle, Mr. Sawyer.”

      He leaned closer, lowering his voice as he glanced aside at Phillipa, as if assuring himself she was not within hearing distance. “I have to admit I’ve been thinking about you. If you have nowhere else to go, I can offer you a haven, ma’am. I have room and to spare.”

      Rosemary’s cheeks burned with a rush of heat. “I couldn’t even consider such a thing,” she said hastily.

      “It would be better than nothing,” he said quietly.

      Rosemary was stunned for a moment at his words. “Are you offering me a room, sir? Or a position?”

      “Perhaps I should not have put such a suggestion to you. However…”

      “You want me to be your…” She could not utter the word aloud. The insult was too great to be considered, and Rosemary turned away, her injured ankle not allowing as dignifed an exit as she would have liked.

      He was behind her, his hand grasping her elbow. “Wait. I didn’t mean to give offense, although I’m sure it must seem that way to you. I’m offering room and board in exchange for your services in my home.”

      Rosemary shuddered, her perception of Dex Sawyer shattered. At first glance, on the train platform, she had thought him the picture of elegance, a perfect choice for the new preacher and certainly for a husband.

      Now, he had proved himself to be a blackguard of the worst kind. She jerked from his grasp. “I cannot tell you how outraged I am at your suggestion,” she said between gritted teeth.

      He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m sure there is a misconception here, Miss Gibson. I am simply offering you shelter. I beg your pardon for infringing on your dignity, but I only meant that you could cook my meals and keep my house in order until you find a better position.”

      “The only offer I will ever accept from a man will be an honorable proposal of marriage,” she said firmly.

      “Have you had one?” His tone was dubious.

      Her chin tilted and her mouth was primly set as she spoke her reply. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have.”

      A flush rose to color his cheeks, and Dex ducked his head. “I beg your pardon, Miss Rosemary. I spoke in haste, and I fear I have offended you greatly. I can only offer my deepest apologies.”

      “They are not acceptable, I fear,” Rosemary whispered, her only thought that of escape from his presence. With steps that limped ever so slightly, she left the store. Glancing back, she hesitated for just a moment as Pip mouthed words she could not hear, her arms full of foodstuffs.

      From the other side of the glass, Dex watched her departure, his mouth twisted in a half smile that hinted of regret, even as he lifted two fingers to his brow in a salute.

      It was impossible that the man would think she’d even consider such a thing. Rosemary’s feet scuffed up clouds of dust as she crossed the street. How could he think she would keep house for a single gentleman? She could only imagine the gossip such an arrangement would cause. The wooden sidewalk beneath her feet now, she barely felt the pain in her injured foot, so great was her distress.

      How he could even imagine that she would take him up on the idea was beyond her comprehension. And yet, what had anyone else offered her? she asked herself in a burst of honesty. At least the man had been aboveboard with his proposal. And quick with his apology.

      Proposal. She’d thrown the word in his face. She’d said in no uncertain terms that a proposal had been offered. And so it had. An ambiguous proposition, to be sure. And yet…

      She stopped suddenly, coming to a halt in front of the newspaper office. Inside, Duncan Blackstone glanced at her, then quickly away.

      She ignored his back as he turned away, her mind on the conversation with Gabe Tanner when he had offered his hand so casually and with such a lack of dignity. Had she turned him down flat? She didn’t think so.

      The scene filled her mind. She’d told him not to molest her. She’d sputtered words she could not even recall. Yet…she hadn’t refused him outright.

      Not once had she said the single word he’d apparently expected to hear.

      He was not off the hook.

      As first choice, he rated below a rattlesnake, she decided. And yet, what were her other options? To be housekeeper to the piano player from the saloon? To beg on the street corner? To degrade herself further by going from ranch to ranch, seeking employment?

      Maybe she could make a deal with him. Perhaps she could earn her way without having to…The thought of what being Gabe Tanner’s wife entailed was almost too much for her to consider.

      At any rate, she’d reached the bottom of the barrel. Staying at the parsonage was not an option any longer, and living with Phillipa’s family would be an imposition.

      She turned on her heel and marched haltingly toward the livery stable. If passersby spoke, she was not aware of their greetings, her mind set on the goal she must attain before she lost her nerve.

      Bates Comstock, leading a bay mare, stepped from inside the big barn. He tipped his hat politely. “Miss Gibson, what can I do for you? You wanting to go for a ride?”

      “How much would it cost to rent a buggy from you for a couple of hours?” she asked.

      “Whereabouts you heading?” He tied the mare to a hitching post and slid his hands into his pockets.

      She felt the flush climb her cheeks. She’d done more blushing lately than in the whole past year, and it seemed she had no control over it. “I need to ride out to Gabe Tanner’s place.”

      Bates hesitated for a moment, then grinned, his eyes crinkling with what appeared to be an inordinate amount of delight, Rosemary thought. Why her destination should inspire such interest on his part was rather odd.

      “Well, it happens I’m on my way there myself,” Bates said jovially. “He’s sellin’ me three horses and I’m gonna pick them up this afternoon. Why don’t I just take the buggy instead of my mare, and I’ll give you a lift. Won’t cost you a thing.”

      Rosemary cast him a doubtful look, then considered the paltry sum she had in her reticule. “That sounds fine,” she said politely. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

      Chapter Four

      Gabe Tanner squinted his eyes against the afternoon sun, peering at the conveyance that was approaching his house. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Bates Comstock was hauling that Gibson woman around in his buggy. With a muffled curse, he left the barn.

      If it wasn’t Rosemary Gibson, it was her twin. And whatever her reason for coming, it probably didn’t bode well for him, he decided glumly.

      The buggy halted with a flourish, the mare tossing her head, her hooves pawing at the ground. Bates snapped on a lead line and tied it to the hitching rail, then turned back to assist his passenger from the buggy.

      “You come for your horses, Bates?” Gabe asked, hat tilted back, arms akimbo.

      Bate’s grin was wide as Rosemary’s feet touched the ground amid a flurry of skirts. “Yeah. I was about to ride out on my mare when Miss Gibson here walked up and asked for a buggy to hire. Thought