Shot Gun Grooms. Maureen Child

low-cut red velvet gown. Swags of fabric settled over rounded hips. Everything about the woman was excessively feminine. She was as lush as a ripe peach and, from the knowing look in her large eyes, she understood the impact she had on those she met.

      Emily had never been so close to a woman like the one standing in front of her. Society dictated that she didn’t even acknowledge her existence. Although with the woman leaning toward her reception desk, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to ignore her.

      “I’m Dixie,” the woman said in a low voice that was surprisingly cultured. She might be living in Defiance now, but she’d been born somewhere else. “I heard you were opening a hotel. I’d like to rent a room.”

      “A—a room?”

      Emily bit her lower lip. This was not a situation she could have foreseen. While she wanted to fill the hotel as quickly as possible, she wasn’t interested in offering a location for expansion for the likes of Miss Cherry and her girls.

      “I’m not sure what you were told,” Emily said formally. “This is a private hotel. My guests—” or the guests she would soon have “—are honest people who keep to themselves.”

      “That’s just what I want, honey,” Dixie drawled, and set a handful of gold coins on the desk. “I’m paying a month in advance. I’d like your most private room in this private hotel. And you can stop biting your lip. I’m not here to work. I’m here for some quiet.”

      The tall, beautiful woman offered a smile. “Over at Miss Cherry’s there’s never a moment’s peace. Men are in and out of the place at all hours. They’re forever knocking on my door. I don’t mind working hard, which I do, but when I’m finished for the night, I want to be left alone.”

      Emily didn’t know what to say. She glanced from the money to the woman standing in front of her. She knew what Dixie did to earn that money. Well, she didn’t know exactly, but she had an idea. It had something to do with men and women being together.

      “Are you frightened of me?” Dixie asked bluntly. “Do you think I’ll corrupt you or try to seduce your other guests?”

      Emily felt herself blush. From the heat on her face, she could imagine her cheeks were bright red. Still, she kept her head high. “Not at all,” she lied.

      “I won’t do either,” Dixie promised. “Although I can’t speak for the ladies in town. They might not approve of you catering to the likes of me. However, I’m paying in advance, I pay in gold and I won’t make any trouble.”

      Emily reached for the blank registration book, turned it toward the woman and pointed to the first line. “If you would be so kind as to sign here,” she said. “Then I’ll show you to your room, Miss, ah…”

      “Just Dixie. If we’re going to be passing in the hall every day, I don’t see any point in being formal, do you?”

      “No. Of course not.”

      She glanced at Dixie’s signature, then put her money into the strongbox at the bottom of the desk. When she straightened, she studied the keys hanging on the hooks attached to the wall behind her.

      “The front bedroom is a little larger,” she said, more to herself than her guest. “But you’ll have street noise. If you’re interested in quiet more than space, I have a lovely room at the back.” She looked at Dixie. “Let me show you these two rooms and you pick the one you like best.”

      “Good idea.”

      Dixie crossed to the stairs and called down. Instantly there were the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Three young men appeared, each carrying a trunk, followed by two boys with large carpetbags.

      Emily knew that the luggage contained more lovely dresses like the red one Dixie wore this afternoon. So much finery, she thought as she led the way down the hall. Beautiful clothes in soft, elegant fabrics. She fingered her own gray wool skirt and remembered a time when she’d worn pretty things. Nothing as spectacular as Dixie’s dress, to be sure, but still nicer than her current garb.

      But once Emily had decided to go west, she’d decided it was more important to be sensible than fashionable. She’d had her gray dresses made up. Lighter for spring and summer, darker for winter. The color didn’t show the dirt and the fabrics lasted forever. Sensible, she thought again as she opened the door to the front bedroom. Now she was left to wonder if being too sensible had stolen her soul.

      Dixie examined the first bedroom, then the second. She chose the latter saying, “You’re right, it’s smaller, but I prefer to be at the back, and that armoire is much bigger so I’ll be able to store my clothes.” Then she glanced at her trunks and bags and laughed. “Maybe I should take a second room for them.”

      Before Emily could answer, she heard the bell ring. She excused herself and hurried toward the reception desk. Two businessmen stood there. They were, they said, from Baltimore and needed two rooms for two nights.

      Excitement filled Emily as she had the men sign her register. She only had five rooms to let and already three of them were full. The hotel was going to be a success, she thought happily. She was going to realize her dream.

      * * *

      “I understand you’re full for the night,” Lucas said as he walked into the reception area.

      It was nearly six that evening and Emily hadn’t seen him all day. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since the “incident” the previous afternoon. She was instantly embarrassed and determined not to show it.

      “Yes, we’re full,” she said. “I have two businessmen, two miners and—” This time she couldn’t stop the blush from climbing her cheeks. “And someone else.”

      Lucas, so tall and handsome in his dark trousers, white shirt and bottle green vest, leaned against her registration desk and raised his eyebrows.

      “I heard about Dixie,” he said. “I was surprised.”

      “I don’t care if you don’t approve,” she told him. “This is my business, not yours. I pay you a percentage of the money I make, however you are not my partner. You don’t get to express your opinion on the day-to-day handling of things.”

      “I think you’ve got yourself a runaway horse.” Lucas leaned toward her and gave her a smile. The one that turned her knees to jelly. “I said I was surprised. That’s different from not approving. Dixie is a fine lady, despite her occupation.”

      Emily didn’t want to think about how the man she’d married had come to know whether or not Dixie was a fine lady or a harpy. Nor did she feel comfortable with a conversation that might detail Dixie’s “occupation.”

      “All right,” she murmured. “The point is, until I get the rest of the rooms ready, I’m full. We need to discuss how often you wish to look at my ledgers. I thought perhaps weekly would be acceptable. Once you approve of the totals, I will deposit your share into the bank. Or would you prefer me to give it to you directly?”

      “The bank is fine.” He leaned a little closer. “As to looking at your ledgers, that’s not necessary. I trust you, Em. We’re married.”

      She did not want to think about that. “You don’t know me. I could be dishonest.”

      He laughed. “No, you couldn’t. Dishonest women don’t kiss the way you did yesterday.”

      She opened her mouth to reply, but there weren’t any words. How could he speak of the incident? How could he tease her and…and…

      “I’m about to have supper,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”

      The change in subject made her head spin. She was still reeling from his mention of the incident and he was inviting her to a meal?

      Of course she was going to tell him no, but before she could she found she really wanted to dine with him. She wanted to talk to him and listen to him talk to her. She wanted to put on a pretty dress—not