Read Online Julia: Bride of New York (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 11) by Callie Hutton - Free Book Online

flicking to the expanse of skin above her dress. His gut tightened at the idea that any man, for the price of a beer, could see Julia in this outfit. Anger swelled up in him, so strong he wanted to punch the wall. “Then I’ll tell him you quit.”
    She narrowed her eyes and poked her finger in his chest. “Now you listen to me. You have no authority where I am concerned. I am a free woman. I’m not owned by Mr. Johnson, and I am not owned by you. I can work where I please. And if you interfere in any way with my employment, I will…”
    “Will what?”
    She bent forward. “I will…buy a gun and shoot you!”
    He leaned in, meeting her almost nose-to-nose. “Then I will lock you up, and you won’t be working here.”
    “Julia, is there a problem?” Mackinaw, the manager, walked over, giving Fletcher a curious look.
    Fletcher rounded on the man. “What do you mean, calling her Julia? Her name is Miss Benson.”
    The manager raised both hands, palms up, and backed away. “Sorry.” He turned to Julia. “Miss Benson is there a problem?”
    She pulled up the neckline of her dress and smoothed the skirt. “No. Everything is fine.” She glared at Fletcher. “The sheriff was just leaving.”
    Fletcher backed up. “This isn’t over.” Turning on his heel, he strode across the floor, the pounding of his boots on the wooden planks marking his exit.
    How dare she take a job in the saloon? Was she out of her mind? Was being ogled by every man in town and being on her feet for hours on end preferable to being his wife? If he lived to a hundred years of age, he’d never understand women.
    Well, he’d done his best as far as Miss Julia Benson was concerned. If she wanted to work at the saloon, what did it matter to him? He couldn’t care less. He had a job to do. As she’d pointed out a number of times, she was not his responsibility.
    Several hours later Fletcher pushed opened the wooden batwing doors. He told himself it was merely a coincidence that the last stop of his evening rounds was the Full Bucket saloon. Ignoring Julia, once he determined she was still working, he took a seat at a table in the rear of the saloon.
    Millie, one of the saloon girls, sashayed over to him. “You want a drink, Sheriff?”
    “Yeah. Get me a whiskey, but ask the new girl to bring it over.”
    The waitress raised her eyebrows, but wandered back to the bar. Once she had the drink in hand, she brought it to Julia and gestured with her chin toward him.
    Julia narrowed her eyes and marched in his direction. He watched her expression as she moved across the floor, not sure if she would dump the liquid on his head. Even with her slight limp, she was graceful, making her body sway in a tempting manner. The outfit she wore had his blood pumping and heading south.
    “Your drink, Sheriff.” She slowly bent from the waist, her eyes daring him to look lower. Carefully laying the glass in front of him, she smiled, and his mouth dried up.
    “Thanks.” Not taking his eyes off hers, he raised the glass to his lips and sipped. If she thought he was going to ogle her like every other man in the room, she was sadly mistaken. He was a gentleman. The liquid burned going down, the heat jolting him. “When do you get off work?”
    Julia straightened and tugged on the neckline of her dress. “When we close.”
    “You’ve already been here for hours. You shouldn’t have to work until Mac closes the place.” He pushed his chair back and made to stand up. “I’ll talk to him.”
    Julia slammed her hand on the table, making his glass jump, some of the liquid spilling over the side. “You will do no such thing!”
    He ran his fingers through his hair. “Julia, what are you trying to prove?”
    “What makes you think I’m trying to prove anything? I need to work. I have to pay for my room and food. There are no free rides, Sheriff.”
    “All right. If you don’t want to marry me, that’s fine, but please come back to work at the jail.” At