investments, as well as the beginnings of her new roadhouse in Spokane. If she let on that Trent had fired her, it would only be a matter of time before the bank called her note. “That remains to be seen,” she said vaguely.
“Ah. I see.” He paused and cleared his throat, bringing them to a stop. “But you are receiving income from Mr. Storm?” He laughed uneasily. “I cannot imagine him cutting you off without a dime. After all, you’re the Storm Roadhouse Maven!”
Tora laughed and eased him forward, back into their languid walking pace. “That would be something,” she said, pleased that he had set himself up and there was no need for a lie. “And suddenly, I am free to cavort with handsome devils like yourself,” she said.
Andrew glanced at her quickly, obviously taken aback by her forwardness. “And I do consider myself a lucky devil.”
“Mr. Aston, I believe we are on the edge of something delightful,” she flirted.
Andrew guided her back toward the center of the park, where the mayor was speaking of America’s many attributes, and the import of keeping the country free.
Yes, free for me to make my way, with or without Trent Storm
, Tora thought. He spoke of how America was made up of the brave who fought for her, gave their lives for her.
And I will give my life to get what I want
. He spoke of her future, glorious and bright.
And I will ride her future like the crest of a wave
.
Cutting a ribbon, the mayor officially opened the evening games. There were three-legged races by torchlight, a pie-eating contest, juggling clowns, and a carousel, brought in at tremendous cost from Minneapolis via train. Children squealed and pushed their way through the crowd to be the first to ride the fantastic machine, while parents looked on and laughed. The music, once begun, was a delight to the ears, and the gaslights were indeed a sight. Tora smiled, feeling suddenly a child again herself.
“Would you care for a ride?” Andrew asked, smiling down at her.
“Oh no. Let the children go first. I will have my turn later.”
“Indeed. I’ll make sure of it. Would you care for some lemonade?”
“That sounds divine.”
“I’ll be back directly.” Tora watched him as he edged through the crowd toward the lemonade stand, shrugging at her when he noticed there was a line. Tora laughed. There was no doubt about it, Andrew Aston was the most desirable bachelor in town, and his attention was flattering. But he failed to move her deep down, as Trent had done. Had Trent killed her capacity for love, desire? She frowned at the thought. No, surely, it would simply be a matter of time before she could conjure up those feelings for someone else.
Yet she knew with absolute certainty that Andrew was merely a pawn in her game. She needed him, at least for the time being. And when she was done with him, she would discard him as she had others, waiting for the next man who could stir her. She would wait for love, and a man worthy of her desire. In the meantime, Andrew was a pleasant distraction.
“Well, boys,” a deep voice said behind her. “Ain’t she the picture of Venus di-my-lo?”
Tora glanced over her shoulder, unwilling to give the rabble-rousers who had obviously breached the sheriff’s boundaries more than a cursory glance.
“That’s Tora Anders,” one whispered loudly to the first. “Storm’s girl. Best steer clear of her.”
“That’s a shame,” said the first. “But she’s not with Storm tonight. Maybe she’s available.”
“You can bet I would never be seen with you,” she said primly, turning to face the man. He towered over her, but she refused to cower, facing his dark gaze without flinching. “I suggest you gentlemen move on.” He stood well over six feet tall, with the broad shoulders of a man accustomed to physical labor, and a face laden with scars.
“Well ain’t you the haughty-taughty type? I’d like to take you down a couple o’ notches.”
Tora could feel his
“Ah. I see.” He paused and cleared his throat, bringing them to a stop. “But you are receiving income from Mr. Storm?” He laughed uneasily. “I cannot imagine him cutting you off without a dime. After all, you’re the Storm Roadhouse Maven!”
Tora laughed and eased him forward, back into their languid walking pace. “That would be something,” she said, pleased that he had set himself up and there was no need for a lie. “And suddenly, I am free to cavort with handsome devils like yourself,” she said.
Andrew glanced at her quickly, obviously taken aback by her forwardness. “And I do consider myself a lucky devil.”
“Mr. Aston, I believe we are on the edge of something delightful,” she flirted.
Andrew guided her back toward the center of the park, where the mayor was speaking of America’s many attributes, and the import of keeping the country free.
Yes, free for me to make my way, with or without Trent Storm
, Tora thought. He spoke of how America was made up of the brave who fought for her, gave their lives for her.
And I will give my life to get what I want
. He spoke of her future, glorious and bright.
And I will ride her future like the crest of a wave
.
Cutting a ribbon, the mayor officially opened the evening games. There were three-legged races by torchlight, a pie-eating contest, juggling clowns, and a carousel, brought in at tremendous cost from Minneapolis via train. Children squealed and pushed their way through the crowd to be the first to ride the fantastic machine, while parents looked on and laughed. The music, once begun, was a delight to the ears, and the gaslights were indeed a sight. Tora smiled, feeling suddenly a child again herself.
“Would you care for a ride?” Andrew asked, smiling down at her.
“Oh no. Let the children go first. I will have my turn later.”
“Indeed. I’ll make sure of it. Would you care for some lemonade?”
“That sounds divine.”
“I’ll be back directly.” Tora watched him as he edged through the crowd toward the lemonade stand, shrugging at her when he noticed there was a line. Tora laughed. There was no doubt about it, Andrew Aston was the most desirable bachelor in town, and his attention was flattering. But he failed to move her deep down, as Trent had done. Had Trent killed her capacity for love, desire? She frowned at the thought. No, surely, it would simply be a matter of time before she could conjure up those feelings for someone else.
Yet she knew with absolute certainty that Andrew was merely a pawn in her game. She needed him, at least for the time being. And when she was done with him, she would discard him as she had others, waiting for the next man who could stir her. She would wait for love, and a man worthy of her desire. In the meantime, Andrew was a pleasant distraction.
“Well, boys,” a deep voice said behind her. “Ain’t she the picture of Venus di-my-lo?”
Tora glanced over her shoulder, unwilling to give the rabble-rousers who had obviously breached the sheriff’s boundaries more than a cursory glance.
“That’s Tora Anders,” one whispered loudly to the first. “Storm’s girl. Best steer clear of her.”
“That’s a shame,” said the first. “But she’s not with Storm tonight. Maybe she’s available.”
“You can bet I would never be seen with you,” she said primly, turning to face the man. He towered over her, but she refused to cower, facing his dark gaze without flinching. “I suggest you gentlemen move on.” He stood well over six feet tall, with the broad shoulders of a man accustomed to physical labor, and a face laden with scars.
“Well ain’t you the haughty-taughty type? I’d like to take you down a couple o’ notches.”
Tora could feel his
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