Claiming Coral (The Red Petticoat Saloon) by Maddie Taylor

Author:Maddie Taylor [Taylor, Maddie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Published: 2016-07-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Coral tensed at the sound of footsteps and soft feminine laughter out in the hallway. Both grew faint as one of the girls, who was likely with a customer passed her room and moved on down the long corridor. The soft thud of a door soon followed.

Her eyes closed in relief, but she didn’t stir from her bed otherwise. She’d been like this all day, ever since she’d returned from the jailhouse.

As she stepped into the small two celled building that morning, she’d encountered a dark, brooding man, who looked up from behind a desk where he sat cleaning and polishing his pistols. When she offered him a smile in greeting, he just stared back at her, his light gray eyes seeming to pierce her very soul. She suppressed the desire to run as fast as she could to the safety of the saloon, but she swallowed her unease for Bo’s sake.

Letting her eyes skim down his shirtfront, she double-checked for a badge that would indicate he was actually an officer of the law and not one of the prisoners lingering after an escape. The gleaming brass star on his chest etched with “Deputy” only calmed her anxieties slightly.

“I see that you’re busy, Deputy…” She paused, thinking he would provide his name. He didn’t. Awkwardly, she continued, “I’m here to post bail for Mr. Magnusson.”

“Can’t.”

Although it came out softly, his clipped reply made her jump. She chewed her lip at his answer. “Why no bail? Surely you don’t mean to keep him locked up over a silly bar room fight.”

“No bail,” he replied succinctly, flipping the chamber of the gun closed and spinning it. He then pointed the weapon at the far wall and with one eye shut, lined up the sights.

“A fine then? I have cash.” She dug inside her pocketbook and pulled out some bills. “If this isn’t enough, I’ll run to the bank.”

“No fine.”

“You’re making him go to trial over this?” she asked, but the infuriating man said nothing. She tried another tack. “Please, may I speak with him?”

“Nope.”

Coral’s hands clenched around her bag in frustration. She might as well have been talking to the wall for all the good his monosyllabic grunts were doing her. And, it was getting her nowhere, fast. She took a step further into the office and peered through the door in the far wall. She saw steel bars and a large part of one of the cells, which was empty. She gritted her teeth in annoyance and turned to look at the man.

“Certainly there are bank robbers, claim jumpers, and far worse criminals to occupy your cells than a man who engaged in fisticuffs at a saloon. He’s a good man and shouldn’t have to pay for one little mistake.”

His response was to pick up his other pistol and begin wiping it with an oil stained cloth, as if she weren’t there. But she was, and he darn well knew it when she crossed her arms and began tapping her toe with impatience because as he polished the dark metal, he looked up and stared right at her.

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