To Love A Texan. Georgina Gentry

wholesome pastimes like playing croquet or joining the weekly nature walks my ladies’ club puts on.”

      “To be sure,” said the major.

      The three matrons nodded.

      “Well,” Lillian said,” I’ve given this a lot of thought and I’m nothing if not decisive—headstrong, my mother called me.”

      “Just what every man dreams of—a stubborn, headstrong woman,” the major muttered.

      “What?” Mrs. Pugsley asked.

      The major cleared his throat and fiddled with his drink. “I—I said, just what every man dreams of, a resolute, decisive woman. Good for you, Miss Primm.”

      Lillian set her glass on a side table. “After much thought, I believe there is no course left to me but to move into the Lily and see if I can reform those poor, unfortunate girls.”

      “What?” Lieutenant Fortenbury turned pale.

      “I mean it,” Lillian nodded. “My aunt left me a little money and I am a teacher of both grammar and etiquette. I feel I could lead these poor girls to a better way of life and maybe find them respectable jobs or even husbands.”

      “You mean, close down the upstairs at the Lily?” The major’s plump cheeks went ashen.

      “Good for you!” The three matrons nodded approval, and Mrs. Bottoms declared, “That’s something the ladies of this town have long hoped for. Then the neighboring ranchers and our young soldiers might be more interested in our local respectable girls.”

      “Not likely,” the major muttered and sipped his iced tea.

      Lillian was now on fire with her idea. “Yes, I shall reform the girls and clean up or close that sinful establishment. Perhaps it is my destiny.”

      “Hip hip hooray!” Mrs. Darlington shouted. “Ladies, we should drink a toast to this brave young woman!” The other two reached to clink their glasses together.

      “What does Brad think about this?” the major asked.

      “Don’t ask.” Lillian sighed. She thought she heard young Fortenbury groan softly.

      The major said, “that only leaves the Bucket O’ Blood Saloon to entertain the troops and cowboys, and it’s a dirty little dump.”

      His wife stared at him. “Now how would you know that, Gilbert?”

      “Uh, the soldiers tell me,” the major said and avoided her glare.

      “Nevertheless,” Lillian announced with new determination, “I cannot do anything about how that terrible rake operates his part of that house, but I can do something about closing down the upstairs.”

      “Hurray!” The older ladies looked at her as if she were Joan of Arc. “My dear, every respectable woman in the county will want a statue of you in front of the courthouse.”

      “And every man will want you hanged in effigy,” the major muttered.

      And so it was that early Monday morning, Lillian packed up her few belongings, and borrowed the major’s buggy and a driver again. Mrs. Bottoms hugged her and wished her Godspeed and told her all the ladies in town would be forever grateful for her courage.

      However, Lillian did not feel quite so brave as once again, she marched up the steps of the big white mansion and rang the bell. After a moment, Delilah answered the door.

      “Oh, Miss, you is back?”

      “I certainly am and I’ll be moving into Miss Lil’s room. Didn’t Mr. O’Neal tell you?”

      “Yes, ma’am, he did, but I didn’t believe it, and I’m not sure he did, either. Mr. Brad ain’t gonna like that.”

      Lillian shouldered her aside. “I don’t imagine he will, but he knows I’m coming.”

      From somewhere in the back of the house, she heard that deep male voice. “Delilah, who’s at the door?”

      “The new owner of half the Lily.” Delilah drawled and Lillian was uncertain whether the maid was being sarcastic or not.

      “What?” Brad O’Neal came striding into the entry hall, but by now, Lillian and her little carpet bag were already half-way up the winding stairs. He peered up at her. “I thought you were bluffin’.”

      She glared at him. “I always say what I mean and do what I say.”

      He was freshly shaven and dressed in a fine black coat and string tie. Even from here she could smell the scent of shaving soap and a fragrant aftershave.

      “I am moving in as I said.” She announced.

      “You can’t do that! The locksmith hasn’t gotten here yet—”

      “Have you even called him?”

      “Well, no,” he stammered, “I didn’t really think you’d have the gumption—”

      “I’ve got gumption, Mr. O’Neal. Delilah, send a message to the locksmith to come over and put a stout lock on Miss Lil’s door.”

      The black maid looked at Brad.

      “You heard the lady,” he snapped.

      “Thank you.” Lillian dismissed them both with a polite nod and continued up the stairs. Half-dressed girls poked their heads out of their rooms, eyes wide, mouths open. They were of all heights and hair colors, all of them pretty.

      Lillian gestured to one of them, a petite redhead. “You, please direct me to Miss Lil’s room.”

      Instead, the girl looked helplessly over the open balcony. “Brad, honey, what should I—?”

      “Pansy, show the lady to Lil’s room!” He thundered from below. He sounded furious. Good.

      “Thank you.” She smiled down at him.

      “You are not welcome!” he shouted. “By the way, Miss Primm, we serve dinner around here at precisely noon, so we can open the Lily in the late afternoon for the first customers.”

      “Fine. Set a place for me.”

      The girls were still staring open-mouthed as the petite redhead led her into a large bedroom. “This is Miss Lil’s room, but—”

      “And now it is my room. I am Lillian Primm, Miss Lil’s niece and you are?”

      “Pansy.” The girl said and stared in curiosity as Lillian put her suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed.

      “I think we are going to be friends, Pansy.” Lillian looked around.

      “We are?”

      “Despite what Mr. O’Neal may have told you, I am here to champion the cause of the working girl.”

      “Huh?”

      Pansy wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, Lillian thought sympathetically, but then, probably none of these girls had any education or any homemaking skills. No doubt, all their skills were directed toward a mattress. “Pansy, it is not polite to say ‘huh’? A lady says ‘I beg your pardon?’”

      That pretty, sneering blonde sauntered in and leaned against the door jamb, smoking her cigarillo. “We ain’t got no ladies here.”

      This one would be a major challenge, Lillian thought. She smiled at her anyway. “You can all be ladies with a little training.”

      Pansy looked hopeful. “We can?”

      “Certainly.” Lillian smiled at her.

      The redhead looked hopeful. “You hear that, Sadie?”

      “Don’t get your hopes up, kid.” The blonde frowned. “We gotta good place here and we don’t want it changed.”

      Lillian