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  There was a pause, broken only by the sheriff chuckling. "Two grown men, squabbling like fishwives. Meanwhile, my office looks like a herd of cattle has stampeded through it!" He fixed them both with an imploring look. "Can we please get this all resolved so everything can go back to normal?"

  Crawford took a deep breath. His heart was suddenly pounding. "Do you really think she has feelings for me?" he asked Gabe.

  The man snorted. "Why, Sheriff, I never knew one of our deputies was blind!"

  "Are you so intent on leaving this office with a broken nose? Is that why you keep on taunting me?" Crawford snarled.

  "I was kidding!" Gabriel held out his palms in mock surrender.

  "Fellas!" The sheriff stood and put his hands on his hips. "Settle down! Gabe, that was a bad joke; one you shouldn't have made." Then, turning to Crawford, "Yes, Sapphire obviously has feelings for you. Feelings enough to steal a horse, feelings enough to submit to your discipline, and feelings enough to… you know." He cleared his throat. "And instead of being grateful, instead of being honest and straight with her and admitting you're just as stuck on her, you keep pushing her away out of some mistaken sense of unworthiness. So here's what you're going to do: you're going to go home early and get your head on straight. Then, this evening, you're going to head on over to the Petticoat, sit down with that girl, and talk to her." He glanced at Gabriel. "I'm assuming she'll be there and able to talk?"

  Gabe nodded. "Any time after six."

  "Then you will go there after six and sort this foolishness out once and for all. Otherwise you may as well just unpin your badge right now and leave."

  Crawford sighed. Maybe they were right. He'd been trying to handle the situation his way, and it didn't seem to be working. And besides, as soon as he told Sapphire the truth, she'd be so disgusted, she would no longer harbor any affection for him. Of that he was sure. By doing what they suggested, he'd stop both Jeb and Gabriel from pressing him further, and if he really was still unable to control his own feelings for her once she no longer purposely crossed his path, well, leaving town was always an option.

  "Very well," he said. "I'll call on Sapphire this evening. But, Sheriff, before I go, please allow me to clean up the mess I caused here."

  Jeb grinned. "You see?" he told Gabe. "He's a decent man at heart. He just has a hot head and a false notion of chivalry."

  * * *

  A long soak in a scented tub and a couple of hours in bed, attempting to nap, had done little to calm Sapphire's inner turmoil. Her thoughts kept straying to what had happened that morning, and she barely noticed the hustle and bustle going on around her as more and more gems arrived to have some supper before the Petticoat's main evening rush.

  "Are you all right?" Emerald's dark eyes were full of concern.

  "I'm fine." Sapphire smiled as Paquah, Emerald's young son, appeared at her elbow and gave her a cheeky grin.

  "Can I have that?" He pointed to the doughnut sitting untouched on her plate.

  "May I please have that," Emerald corrected him.

  "May I please have that doughnut, Miss Sapphie?" Paquah said obediently.

  "Of course you may," Sapphire said, reaching out to ruffle his soft hair. "And you're a good boy for asking."

  "And you're a bad girl for not eating it yourself," Nettie said, promptly replacing the missing doughnut with a fresh one. "You missed breakfast and dinner today, child! Either you're sick, in which case we need to call Doc Norwood, or else there's something lyin' heavy in your heart. Now you tell me, which one is it?"

  Sapphire sighed. "I'm fine, Nettie. I just seem to have lost my appetite today. There's really no need to call the doctor… or anyone else, for that matter. Although I do appreciate your concern."

  The cook smoothed back her hair and rolled her eyes. "Appreciate my concern indeed! The day I stop worrying about you girls is the day I draw my last breath!"

  "And that's why we all love you, Nettie," Opal said. "That and the fact that your cooking is so good."

  Paquah, his cherubic face now coated with sugar and cinnamon, nodded emphatically. Spotting another sweet treat on Sapphire's plate, he sidled over and reached for it with a sticky hand, which was promptly grasped firmly by his mother.

  "You've had enough," Emerald said affectionately, pulling him into her lap and cradling him close.

  Sapphire watched them, a sudden ache creeping into her heart at the thought of her own family. She had been so close to her parents, especially her mama, that when the sickness had taken them, she had wanted her own life to end. She hadn't believed she could live without them. If it hadn't been for Seth, her older brother…

  "I understand if you don't want to talk about it," Emerald said softly, interrupting her thoughts. "But I'm also here if you need anything. All right?"

  "Thank you. I do appreciate it."

  "Sapphire?"

  She looked up as Jewel entered the kitchen and called her name. "Yes?"

  "Could I please have a quick word with you?"

  "Of course." Shooting a grateful smile at Emerald, Sapphire stuck her tongue out at Paquah, thanked Nettie for the food, and followed the madam out of the kitchen.

  "Emelie—Silver—can't work this evening," Jewel said, getting straight to the point, as usual. "She's fine, it's nothing serious, but it does mean we're a girl short down here tonight. After the day you've had, I was wondering whether you'd like to fill in for her."

  "Thank you, ma'am." Sapphire felt a rush of gratitude. She had been wondering how on earth she'd be able to give private dances that evening. Usually she found it easy to put on a happy face even when she was feeling down, but her last encounter with Deputy Slade had really rattled her. Wearing a pink petticoat and staying downstairs, she'd still have to dance with guests and serve drinks, but at least she wouldn't have to be intimate—or alone—with them.

  Jewel touched her shoulder. "Are you up to working downstairs, or would you like the night off?"

  "I'll be fine downstairs. I hope Emelie will be all right."

  "She'll be fine. It's just a headache, Charlie said. If it was anything really bad, he'd never agree to leave her side, but he'll be playing tonight, so it can't be serious."

  "That's a relief."

  "Do you have a pink petticoat, or do I need to find you one?" Jewel asked.

  Sapphire shook her head. "I don't think I have one."

  "That's fine." Jewel smiled. "Sometimes I lose track—some of our girls have just the one, others have both. Let's go upstairs, I'm sure I have some spares put away somewhere."

  Chapter Eight

  A little later in the evening, Sapphire was properly attired in a silver beaded corset and black skirt, the hem raised high enough to display the pink petticoat she wore underneath. Her hair was pinned up, her lips and cheeks rouged, and she had applied her trademark blue shimmer to her eyelids. A thin ribbon of pink lace circled her throat.

  "You look good enough to eat," Charlie told her, stopping to kiss her hand on his way to the piano.

  "Thank you, Charlie." She forced herself to smile. "Please give Emelie my love. I hope she feels better soon."

  "I will. And thank you for filling in for her at such short notice." He winked. "Mind you're not too good downstairs, now, or else my wife will be out of a job."

  Despite herself, Sapphire giggled. She had a soft spot for the handsome resident musician. All the gems did. "Don't you worry about that," she said. "I can assure you that this," she gestured to her petticoat, "is only temporary. And I'm sure I'll spend at least half the evening assuring people that Silver will be back very soon."

  "Just what I was hoping to hear." Giving her a brief nod, he turned and made his way over to the piano in the corner.

  Ruby, the sheriff's wife, came rushing up to her next, balancing a tray of drinks on her right hand with practiced ease. "Nice to be working with you tonight," she said. "You know the drill?"

  "I think so. I spend enough time down here even in my red petticoat. Fiftee
n minutes a turn on the dance floor?"

  "Right. And you set your own price," Ruby said. She rolled her eyes as a table of about five men began to chant behind her. "I'll be right there!" she yelled, then turned back to Sapphire. "It's going to be a busy one, I can tell. Thank God you were able to step in to cover for Silver."

  "Then I'd better get started."

  "Let me know if you need anything." The beautiful redhead blew her a kiss before setting off toward the table of rowdy customers who were clamoring for their drinks. Sapphire couldn't help but grin as Ruby rubbed the obvious, rounded mound of her belly and the men suddenly became quite concerned, asking if she was all right and apologizing for making her rush on their account. It was a well known fact that any man who knew Ruby, also knew that her husband wouldn't take kindly to anyone who upset the mother of his child-to-be.

  Sapphire and the other gems who wore red petticoats spent a lot of time downstairs in between receiving visitors to their rooms, so it didn't take her long to get into the rhythm of serving drinks to the gamblers and allowing anyone who asked her nicely to escort her to the dance floor for a turn—for a fee, of course.

  She was just on her way to the bar when someone tugged at her skirt. "Miss Sapphire?"

  She turned. "Mr. Harris, how nice to see you again!"

  His eyes traveled the length of her body, lingering at her cleavage, as usual. "You're lookin' beautiful again today, Miss Sapphire," he said thickly. "Might we go upstairs for a dance?"

  "You know how much I love to dance for you, Mr. Harris," she said as sweetly as she could, "but I'm needed downstairs today." She pointed to her petticoat. "Pink means I stay on the first floor, remember?"

  "Why you wearing that?" He frowned.

  "I'm feeling a bit under the weather this evening," she said. "But please don't worry, I'll make it up to you next time."

  His expression turned dark. "I want to dance with you now."

  Fighting the urge to slap the silly, pouty expression off his face, Sapphire forced herself to remain composed and friendly. "We could always dance here," she suggested, gesturing to the dance floor.

  Joe looked over to where various couples were dancing. "There's men dancing with men over there!" he said incredulously. "That's not right!"

  "It doesn't mean anything," she replied. "It's just that there aren't enough girls, so some of the men like to dance with each other while they're waiting their turn."

  Mr. Harris shook his greying curls. "I want a special dance. Upstairs."

  "Next time." Sapphire was sorely tempted to give him a piece of her mind but she didn't want to lose her best customer. "I promise. I'll find a real nice way to make it up to you."

  "Is this man bothering you?"

  She turned to find the last man on earth she wanted to see; Deputy Crawford Slade, standing right beside her. He looked very different than he had when she'd left him; he'd shaved the dark stubble from his jaw, his thick shaggy hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a nicely tailored suit—but his expression was furious.

  "No," she said coolly, "he's not bothering me at all."

  "Odd," Crawford drawled, his eyes flicking across to Mr. Harris. "From where I'm standing, it looks like he is."

  "You heard the lady!" Joe snapped, his eyes flashing. "Now if you don't mind, we was having a conversation here, so butt out and leave us be!"

  Crawford drew himself up to his full height until he was towering over the older man. Sapphire noticed the way he moved his arm slightly to display the star pinned to his shirt pocket. "Is that any way to address the deputy sheriff?" he said, raising a thick black brow.

  "I didn't know who you was," Joe said, "and now that I do, I still don't care! I was here first, and I'm gonna finish talking to the lady. You can wait your goddamn turn!"

  Unwilling to see the situation escalate, Sapphire took Joe's arm. "Thank you, Mr. Harris, for being so protective of me," she said smoothly. "But as I already explained to you, I'm only working downstairs tonight. So unless you've changed your mind about dancing with me here, I need to get those gentlemen over there some drinks."

  Mr. Harris turned puce, but he shook his head meekly. "Very well. I guess I have no choice but to let you go, then. I don't care to be dancing down here amongst…" he inclined his head to where several miners had formed a circle and were stamping their feet and clapping in time to Camptown Races, "that rabble."

  "That's entirely up to you." Sapphire gave him her most alluring smile and slipped her hand from his arm. "Please let me know if you change your mind. Otherwise, I'll see you another night." She waited until Joe had moved away before addressing Crawford. "Deputy Slade, I certainly hadn't expected to see you here this evening. But as you can see, I'm very busy. I'm sure Ruby will be able to get you a drink." Without waiting for a reply, she spun around, and was about to head for the bar when his huge hands gripped her upper arms and yanked her backwards, pulling her right up against his chest.

  "You and I need to have a little talk, darlin'," he said, his breath warm on her ear.

  She tried to turn around to face him, but was unable to move. "There's nothing left to say," she said, fighting to maintain her composure.

  The solid feel of his broad chest against her back, his fingers digging into her flesh, his scent—soap, leather and musk—threatened to overwhelm her as her body reacted in its usual way: with weak-kneed longing.

  "There's plenty left to say. Sweetheart, I need to apologize for what happened this morning. And there's a bunch of other stuff I need to tell you. If, after I've done that, you tell me you never want to lay eyes on me again, I swear I'll stay away. But please allow me to say my piece first."

  She closed her eyes, her head and her heart both battling for the upper hand. Her head won. "I'm too busy to talk to you right now." It was the truth.

  "Then I'll wait right here," he said. "I'll sit quietly over there in the corner, and I'll wait as long as it takes. Just say you'll let me explain when you've finished working."

  She couldn't face the thought of having those piercing eyes of his following her around the saloon all night. "Fine," she said at length. "I figure I'm due a break, anyway. Just let me go and ask Ruby whether she can cover for me first."

  He released her, and she almost whimpered at the loss of his touch. "Thank you," he said simply.

  A wide-eyed Ruby assured Sapphire she'd be able to manage her tables as well as her own for a little while, shooting awed glances at the deputy over Saph's shoulder as she did so.

  "Are you in trouble?" she whispered.

  Sapphire rolled her eyes. "Most certainly, but not the kind you think. Thank you, hon. As soon as I come back, you can take your break if you want."

  Ruby shrugged. "Officially, we don't get a break. But it's all right. I'm used to the hustle and bustle down here." She patted Sapphire on the shoulder. "Good luck. He looks mad as hell!"

  Despite herself, Sapphire grinned. "That's the way he always looks."

  Still, she had to suppress a wave of apprehension as she made her way back over to where Crawford still stood, unmoving, obviously waiting for her. What can he possibly have to tell me?

  "Let's go up to my room," she said upon reaching him. "It'll be quieter."

  "Thank you," he said, following her up the stairs.

  "Hey!" They both turned at the shout. Sapphire looked down to see Joe Harris glaring up at her. "How come he gets to have a dance, when you just told me you were staying downstairs this evening?" he yelled, his face florid.

  "I'm not dancing for the deputy, Mr. Harris," Sapphire called down. "He just has to question me about something I saw in town earlier. It's quieter upstairs." Without waiting for a response, she hurried up the rest of the steps and headed straight for her room.

  Crawford followed her silently. Once they were inside, he leaned against the door and folded his arms.

  Sapphire perched on the edge of her bed. She gestured to the chair in the corner. "By all means, feel free to sit, Deputy Sl
ade."

  "I'd rather stand. And it's Crawford."

  "Very well. Then please tell me what it is you've come to say, Crawford. Because I thought we were done talking."

  He let out a heavy sigh. "That's because I allowed you to think that way. In truth, you seem to have misunderstood my intentions; something for which I am very sorry."

  What with her being seated and him standing, she suddenly felt very small and vulnerable. Just like the last time he'd been in her room, his very presence seemed to dominate the space. "Please do take a seat," she said. "Else I'll need to stand, as well."

  Without taking his startling eyes from her, he prowled to the chair and sat down, the wood creaking beneath his weight.

  "Thank you." When he didn't say anything, she looked away, nervously pleating the edge of her quilt to keep her fingers busy. "Please go on," she said quietly. "In what way did I misunderstand your intentions?"

  "I've given you the impression that I am somehow offended by your occupation," he began, slowly. "To tell you the truth, that honestly isn't the case. I don't know why I make those remarks sometimes… they just slip out, and I regret them instantly and sincerely."

  Sapphire gave a small shrug. "You wouldn't be the first person to judge me for working here," she said. "Several people in town have a problem with the saloon in general, and the women who work at the Petticoat."

  "That's as may be, but I assure you I am not one of them." He pushed a hand through his slicked back hair. "Christ, this is hard."

  "Deputy Slade—Crawford—is that all you came to tell me? That you don't take offence to my being a gem?"

  "No. I just don't know where to start. I'm not usually one to talk much."

  "So I noticed," she said wryly, and was relieved to see him give a small smile.

  "Can you do me a favor, please, darlin'?"

  "Of course."

  "Just let me talk. If you have any questions, you can ask them after. I think I just need to get this all out in one hit."

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him why he was going to tell her anything if it was so difficult for him, but in the end, her curiosity won out. And besides, nothing he said could possibly make her feel any worse—or any differently towards him. The man had a hold on her she could only control when he wasn't nearby. The sooner he said his piece, the sooner he'd leave, and she would no longer have to fight the urge to reach out, to find a way to have his hands on her again. "Very well. I'm listening."