To Love A Texan. Georgina Gentry

cash for the benefit of these poor unfortunate girls.”

      “But that will effect business downstairs!” His voice rose.

      Now it was her turn to smile. “That is not my problem. Gambling and drinking are bad for the community.”

      The lawyer had turned pale. “Miss Primm, I think I can get the local men to make up a pot, maybe twenty thousand—”

      “I cannot be bought.” Lillian said, “I only wanted to see how the game would go. Good afternoon to you gentlemen. Tell Delilah to set an extra plate at dinner tomorrow.”

      Dewey Cheatum was almost sobbing. “Miss Primm, if you turn things upside down, there is no telling what the men who frequent the Texas Lily might—”

      “Mr. Cheatum, they might stay home with their wives and play pinochle with their children. What this town seems to need is a good hotel, not a bordello.”

      “Tell that to the soldiers and cowboys!” Brad seethed.

      “You tell them.” She started out the door. “Remember about the locksmith, won’t you?”

      “And suppose I don’t?”

      She smiled at him. “Then everyone in town will gossip that you are lusting after the old maid schoolteacher and are intending to take her virtue.”

      Brad shuddered. “I’ll put the damned lock on the door.”

      “Thank you. Good day, gentlemen.” Then she sailed out of the office and stepped up into her buggy, smiling to herself. When she looked back through the big glass window, the rascal was gesturing wildly and the lawyer was running his hands through his gray hair.

      Yes, she was going to save those unfortunate girls. After that, she had no plan, but if what she was doing annoyed Bradley O’Neal, it was a very good day.

      Chapter Four

      “Hell!” Brad muttered as he watched Lillian Primm sashay to her buggy and get in. She was the damndest woman he had ever met. Worse yet, she intended to ruin him financially by meddling at the Lily and thereby cutting into his business. He watched her drive away, head high. She reminded him of her aunt, not very pretty, fiery red hair and stubborn as an army mule. “Lil, what a joke you played on me.”

      Or had she? Certainly Lil McGinty had really expected the school-marm to accept the money and never find out that her aunt was the madam of the most successful bordello in all east Texas. In point of fact, he was a little miffed with Lil. He had thought she would leave him a lot more than she had because they had been such good friends.

      Dewey shook his gray head and smoked his pipe. “You really think there’s anything to that old tale about Lil hiding money in the house?”

      Brad made an exasperated sound. “Oh, hell, she never said anything to me, and who knows what she did with all her profits? For all I know, she put it in a bank in Beaumont or Dallas to fund a home for stray cats.”

      “No, some of it funded…” Dewey started to say something, seemed to think better of it. “You’re right about one thing, Brad, I never saw such a stubborn woman. Wait ’til the local boys hear about her plans. There’ll be more hell raised than the alligator did when the lake went dry.”

      “Oh, she ain’t gonna reform the girls.” Brad snapped as he returned to the window to watch Miss Primm driving down the street, posture straight and head high. Inside, he wasn’t so sure. Besides being stubborn, Miss Primm seemed like a very determined and opinionated woman. Worse yet, she had morals and principles and hadn’t turned into a giggling, swooning idiot who went to mush when he smiled at her.

      Dewey stood up. “Reckon I’d better not tell the boys at the pinochle game just yet. We don’t want the whole male population to go into a panic.”

      Brad reached for his Stetson. “Don’t tell ’em,” he snapped, “because it ain’t gonna happen. I’m in charge at the Lily and if Prissy Primm thinks she’s gonna change things, she’s got another think comin’. She’ll find out Brad O’Neal ain’t a man to be messed with.”

      “She beginnin’ to get under your skin?” Dewey grinned.

      “Hell, no,” Brad growled, “I ain’t gonna give her another thought. She ain’t pretty and she’s too damned smart for a woman.”

      The two walked to the door.

      Dewey said “I don’t envy you, my boy, having to deal with that stern old maid.”

      “I may just kill her,” Brad thought aloud.

      “They’d throw you in jail.”

      “Not if the jury met her,” Brad said. “They’d probably want to give me a medal. I reckon I can make it so miserable for her at the Lily, she won’t stay long. In the meantime, I reckon I’d better get the locksmith.”

      “Luke will be at the pinochle game,” Dewey reminded him.

      “Oh, hell, I forgot about that. Well, tell him to come over tonight or first thing in the mornin’. I ain’t about to have anyone in town think I might want to get into that old maid’s drawers. I got a reputation to uphold. See you later, Dewey.” He went out and swung up into the saddle of his fine black stallion, then rode toward the big Victorian house at the end of the street. As he neared it, he saw Herman, the goat, munching day-lilies and grass out near that damned old rusty bird bath. Why would Lil have thought he wanted that? No, Lil had played a joke on him, all right. And to think he’d given her that little diamond lily pin to celebrate her birthday.

      He rode to the stable around back, turned his horse over to the young Mexican boy, José, and went in through the back door. He walked into the main room and stood studying the open balcony over the big gambling room. The railing Lil had fallen through had been repaired. Funny she should have fallen when she had walked along the balcony a thousand times. However, that hall light had been off; maybe it had run out of kerosene and maybe she’d tripped in the dim light. Even now, he could remember looking up when she screamed, and seeing her coming down to hit one of the billiard tables. She might have been okay except her head caught the eight ball. Rotten luck.

      Brad had scrambled to his feet and rushed to the table, but there was nothing that could be done. Immediately, girls and their customers had run out of upstairs rooms to peer over the balcony, screaming and asking what had happened. Brad had even thought he’d seen that damned Lieutenant Fortenbury among them, although Brad wasn’t certain. If so, the lieutenant must have sneaked in, because the Texas Lily had been off limits to the young twerp after Brad had caught him cheating at cards and the officer had welshed on a number of gambling debts.

      And now Brad was going to have to deal with Lil’s niece. The Lily was quiet this Sunday afternoon with the girls probably napping in their rooms. The ironclad spinster school-marm had indeed given him a headache. He went behind the bar and poured himself a stiff drink, which was unusual for Brad. He seldom drank because he was certain it affected his poker game. “Miss Primm could drive Reverend Lovejoy to drink,” he observed dryly as he sipped it. What was he going to do? He had to get rid of Miss Primm, but he wasn’t certain how to accomplish that. She wouldn’t sell out and she couldn’t afford to buy him out. “A woman with principles,” he snorted and leaned against the bar, “I ain’t used to dealin’ with that.”

      He rubbed his square chin. And now, she was going to move in. Even the thought made him cringe. Maybe he could annoy her so much, she would pack up and leave town. Not likely. Miss Primm seemed as determined as any female he’d ever met. She certainly wasn’t like most women, or any woman he’d ever met.

      “You can say that again,” he grumbled under his breath. If he couldn’t drive her away, what else could he do? He thought about it a long moment, then smiled. “Okay, so she’s a pain in the ass, and stubborn, but she’s a woman, ain’t she? There’s my answer.”

      He knew that he could play women like the strings on a fiddle. He’d