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Bend’s got her.” Saul plopped the gold coin in with the others.
    â€œOkay,” Big Jim agreed. “It’s bidness.” He thrust the bag toward Tempest. “Take it. Find the artist. Get us our painting. And we’re even.”
    â€œTwo paintings,” Saul insisted.
    â€œShe doesn’t have time,” Lucky said. “She’s working for me now.”
    Tempest took the pouch and felt its weight. “This is a big collection from the saloon.”
    â€œIf it’s not enough, we’ll get more,” Saul said.
    â€œDon’t tell her that,” Big Jim said. “You can see she’s a lady with a mind for math. That’s dangerous.”
    â€œAll right,” she said. “I’ll look for the artist, but don’t expect results soon.”
    â€œGreat!” Saul said. “Come on, Big Jim. Let’s get two signs made up that say FUTURE HOME OF THE TEMPERANCE TEMPEST PAINTING. ”
    â€œShe accepted my job first,” Lucky said.
    â€œWe all agree she’s a popular lady,” Big Jim said. “We’ll wait, but not too long.”
    â€œLet’s go plan our signs.” Saul headed for the stairs. “I want curlicues around her name.”
    Big Jim joined him. “Red. I want the letters to stand out.”
    As they disappeared down the stairs, Tempest couldn’t help shaking her head. She’d gone from trying to stop the sale of liquor to helping sell it. Delaware Bend was obviously setting her free from the restrictions she’d felt all her life.
    Lucky whirled her around to face him. “We don’t have time to go gallivanting around Indian Territory for them.”
    She stepped back. “We’re going to look for whiskey peddlers anyway. When we find the artist, he can make some sketches, finish the painting in the Bend, and repair Lulu. It won’t take that much of our time.”
    â€œI can see why they want your portrait. But what’s more important is that you’re a Spirit Rattler.”
    â€œAre you a Rattler, too?”
    â€œThis isn’t about me.”
    â€œI told you before. I need the money.” She opened her chatelaine, tucked the pouch inside, and felt the extra weight drag on the waistband of her skirt.
    â€œI’m paying you.”
    â€œThey are, too.”
    â€œWhat would Mrs. Bartholomew say if she saw your painting hanging in a saloon?”
    â€œI don’t much care what she’d say, but paintings are never accurate. I doubt anybody would recognize me.”
    He shook his head. “You’re stubborn as a mule. I don’t know how you expect to be a man’s ladylove.”
    She smiled at the idea of being his ladylove.
    â€œWhat are you smiling about?”
    â€œWe’ll be covering a lot of miles together. Maybe you’ll see another side to me.”
    He chuckled, revealing his dimple. “I’d like to see every side of you.”
    She leaned in close, feeling daring and a little naughty. “And I’d like to see more of you.”

Chapter 11
    Lucky could’ve kicked himself. First, he’d said ladylove, and then he might as well have said he wanted to seduce her. Of course, he did, but she didn’t need to know it and get ideas.
    She gave him a sidelong look with her beautiful violet eyes, and pursed her plump lips.
    â€œIf you think you can toy with me and get your way like you do with other men, think again. I need you for one thing and one thing only.” Big words from a man who was about to lie down and roll over, but maybe somebody would believe him.
    She lifted her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “I bet there are a lot of ladies who’d like to see more of you, at least in a painting.”
    A lot of ladies had seen plenty of him, but she didn’t need to know it.
    â€œI bet Mama Lou’d be happy to place a painting of you above her pastry shelf. I’m thinking you could be reclining on