Double Chance Claim [Badlands 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (2 page)

Chapter Two

The Double Chance Saloon –

Campbell’s Valley, South Dakota

With the midnight hour close at hand, Wyatt Chance was just about finished for the evening. The folks around Campbell’s Valley didn’t often stay up late drinking or gambling. That was fine with him. The days in the saloon were long enough without having folks cutting into his sleep time.

“Good night, Wyatt. Try to stay out of trouble.” Laughter followed Joe Stanton’s farewell.

“I’ll do my best, Joe,” Wyatt answered, then added, “Tell Frank I’ll be at your store bright and early in the morning to pick up supplies.” He made a mental note to remind his brother, Wade, to pick up the supplies before opening the saloon tomorrow.

“Will do.” Joe exited the Double Chance Saloon with a friendly wave.

Wyatt resumed wiping the bar with a dampened cloth as the last patron, the owner of the dry goods store in town, departed between the swinging doors to the also quiet streets of Campbell’s Valley.

Wyatt never kicked anyone out, and once or twice heavy persuasion had been needed to reroute a few out-of-town guests. But not tonight.

He wiped down all the tables and flipped the chairs upside down on each flat surface as his final act before closing the bar and heading to bed for some much needed rest.

This time tomorrow night, he’d be camping a couple of miles up north on the private property he owned with Wade. They each took turns doing the back-breaking work needed for that piece of land to yield its wealth. In fact, the secret piece of land they owned was the primary reason they were even in Campbell’s Valley, but no one needed to know that.

Wyatt and his identical twin brother had opened the saloon and gambling hall as a side venture, to keep local folks from finding out what they were
really
doing here. The Double Chance Saloon, a former whorehouse they’d gotten cheap from the local land office and renamed, became their primary residence.

Neither of them ever expected the decoy venture to be such a huge success. Apparently, folks in these parts needed entertainment and distraction once the whorehouse went broke.

To keep the townspeople even further in the dark about their mining venture, each of the brothers took a turn at being Wyatt Chance for a week at a time in the saloon. As far as anyone knew, they weren’t twins but simply one man. He’d mentioned having a brother once by mistake to the local storekeeper, but Joe hadn’t seemed to take note of his error. Wyatt paid closer attention to what he said afterward.

Once he and Wade finished up with their primary occupation, they’d likely leave this small town with all the wealth they’d accumulated. When that day came, he wouldn’t miss the bar or the property up north one iota. Both involved different sorts of back-breaking work.

The swish sound of the doors admitting someone startled Wyatt out of his reverie. Wade was early. And worse, he wasn’t supposed to enter through the front.
Damn it.
Wyatt turned in time to see the two swinging half-doors settle back into place with a curse about to explode from his lips. He stifled the foul word because the newcomer wasn’t his brother. Not even close.

In front of the swinging doors stood a gorgeous, if slightly bedraggled, woman. The bonnet hid most of her head, but a few strands of her rich brunette hair escaped to outline a heart-shaped face. The display tantalized him enough to want to see more. Her bright blue eyes were visible from across the room. Wyatt had always been partial to brunettes with blue eyes. Her long slender neck fairly called to him as she stood quietly, her eyes searching the place speculatively.

His libido, long neglected, came alive. Women, beautiful or not, weren’t allowed in his busy life right now. What he needed to focus on was working in this saloon. Not lusting after slender-necked, blue-eyed visions of perfection.

“I’m just about to close up for the night,” he told her in a wooden voice. “Maybe you could come back tomorrow.” She didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, she stared at him for a full minute before her bottom lip began to tremble.

Aw, hell.
He couldn’t abide a female crying.

Wyatt started to ask her what was wrong, but her expression promptly folded inward. Her chin dropped, she sniffed, and tears burst from those beautiful baby blues before he got the chance to tell her she could stay. She didn’t cry out loud, but trails of tears dripped off her cheeks and on to her dress.

“Please. It’s been the most unimaginably horrible day.” Distracted by her sultry, trembling voice, he waited to hear more. She lifted her head and pierced him with an intense watery gaze that went straight to his soul by way of his softening heart. “Could I please have something to drink? Tea, if you have it, brandy if you don’t.” She lifted a small, colorful satchel attached to one wrist. “I’ve got enough money to pay.”

While he kept both tea and a particularly fine brandy in stock, he wasn’t sure he should allow her to stay. The sudden attraction he felt for her was problematic. If she did remain, he’d have to fight the sincere urge to woo her. She was elegantly beautiful. Refined. A lady, no doubt about it. The rumpled travel clothing she wore did nothing to detract from her appeal. Wyatt couldn’t afford any feminine distraction. Not to mention Wade would give him hell if he ever found out.

“Normally, I don’t break my steadfast rule to close at the stroke of midnight, but if you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll make an exception.”

Her shoulders dropped an inch as if in relief. “I swear, I’ll take the secret to my grave.”

Wyatt gestured to the barstools on his left. She moved to seat herself at the first one as he closed the doors, slid the evening barrier in place, and secured the saloon from further patrons.

Behind him, Wyatt heard the scrape of the wooden stool across the floor and the rustling of her skirts as she seated herself. The thought of her rounded bottom perched on the stool made the spit dry up in his mouth.

He shook his head to send the crazy attraction far away, crossed the room and ducked through the opening at the end of the bar.

“Do you want tea, brandy, or tea with brandy as an extra flavoring?”

“I choose the third option.” Her playful smile set his heart to pounding faster.

“My pleasure.” And it was. Upon closer inspection, she was far lovelier than he’d originally thought.

Wyatt quickly brewed the tea with the leftover hot water he hadn’t yet discarded. He then strained the leaves into the only porcelain cup he owned—left over from the former whorehouse owners—placed it on a matching saucer, and added a generous touch of brandy. When he turned back and set the cup before her, she looked like she might start crying again.

“Thank you very much.” She bent her head and took a sip. “It’s perfect.”

The soft sigh exhaled gently from her lips and went straight to his stiffening cock.

“You’re welcome,” he managed. The desire to leap over the bar and kiss her senseless subsided only with much concentration.

The grandfather clock, resting against the wall at the base of the stairs to the second floor, started its long, gonging chime to signal the midnight hour. Closing time. Wyatt glanced at the clock face after the second sound and studiously scrubbed the already-clean counter to give his hands something to do while she finished her tea.

She took another small sip of her drink and promptly straightened in her seat. “Do you know where I might find a place to sleep tonight?”

Wyatt’s cock had an answer, and the sudden vision of her in his bed made his dick throb with desire. He contemplated the unbearably long time since he’d been with a woman. He quelled his urges telling himself he didn’t need any feminine complications. “There’s a hotel down the street. I’m not sure if they have any rooms available.”

“There aren’t any at all. I’ve already been there.”

He nodded. “Lots of folks are in and out of there. The town’s been seeing lots of newcomers lately.”

“Why?”

“The gold rush northwest of here in Lead, South Dakota, even all these years later, has brought most of them along with a few farmers and others just tired of the crowded cities back East. Perhaps they’ll have an open room tomorrow. Other than that, I’m afraid you’re stuck with the church. The preacher opens the doors and offers the church pews up as overflow from the hotel sometimes.”

She glanced to her left at the stairs leading to the upstairs rooms lining the balcony. The former whorehouse had boasted seven large rooms available with little or no waiting for the patrons wanting private time with a woman. Wyatt forced his thoughts away from the sexual pleasures he could induce if she joined him in bed. Instead, he focused on how to get her out of the saloon before he used his acute gift of persuasion.

“Do you have any rooms to rent?” Her gaze slid to his eyes, and he became the one seduced. But he couldn’t rent her a room. Especially not tonight. Wade would be rolling in right around dawn, and Wyatt would head out soon after.

“No. I’m sorry, I don’t have any rooms. I just supply drinks and gaming tables.” He shook his head to reaffirm the lack of rooms available and glanced at the grandfather clock across the room. “But only until midnight on Sunday nights. As you can see, I’m ten full minutes over my own closing rules.”

“Could you please give me a place to sleep just for tonight?” She sent another intense gaze his way. Just the concentrated look resting in her seductive, blue eyes was enough to persuade him. Almost.

Unfortunately, the gossip of her staying the night would run wild through the streets if anyone saw her enter the saloon and not leave. Normally, Wyatt didn’t care about rumors, but he didn’t want
her
reputation ruined.

“Please. I don’t want to traipse down the street at this hour to go back to the church.”

Wyatt didn’t want to complicate his life with a woman sleeping so close and unable to touch her. He shook his head, but it was hard to mean it. “I honestly can’t do it. I can, however, walk you to the church after I finish closing up my saloon so you won’t be alone.”

She took a long sip of her tea and replaced the cup in the saucer carefully. The sound of the delicate china clinking together echoed across the room.

“How much would you charge me to stay in one of the rooms I know you have upstairs? I promise it doesn’t have to be fancy.”

Wyatt clapped a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed. “Thing is, ma’am, I’m not set up to run a hotel. The rooms haven’t been dusted or cleaned since the former owners left six months ago and the couple beds remaining aren’t made up. No sheets.”

“There’s not a single clean room upstairs or down with sheets?” Her incredulous expression only made him want her more. She might just be better at persuasion than he was.

His hand dropped to the bar surface. “Just mine.”
And Wade’s, which is upstairs.
Wouldn’t his brother be surprised if he rented his room out for the night?

She smiled wistfully. “I guess I’m not prepared to go
that
far for a room.”

Wyatt had a thought and tried to stop it, but his mouth opened. “I’d give it to you and sleep elsewhere, but I could only do that for tonight. And you’d have to leave before dawn.”

Her expression changed to one of surprise. “That’s very sweet of you. But where would you sleep?”

He grinned. “I’ll figure something out.” He could give her Wade’s room for one night and still sleep in his own downstairs. An easy decision to be a hero to a beautiful woman.

“Thank you…” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”

“I’m Wyatt Chance.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Maggie Altman.”

Maggie
. A seductive name if there ever was one. “What brings you to town?”