The Measure of a Lady by Deeanne Gist Read Free Book Online Page B

would make for supper.
    Pausing, she cocked her head, listening. Then, she heard it again. A shuffling. A subdued giggle. A ‘‘shhhhh.’’
    Rachel moved to the back door, and there stood Lissa, surrounded by a group of miners placing buckets of water next to the shack.
    One of the men saw Rachel and nudged his neighbor. Who nudged the man beside him. Like a line of dominoes, one man tapped another until all were aware of her presence.
    In their center stood Lissa, eyes defiant and challenging.
    Rachel nodded her head. ‘‘Gentlemen, thank you for the water. You are excused.’’
    They silently, and somewhat sheepishly, filed down the alley, leaving Lissa and Soda to face her alone. Lissa cocked a brow. Soda wrung his hands.
    ‘‘Lissa, you will beat that tick hanging on the line behind you until you have knocked every speck of dirt from its stuffings.’’
    ‘‘I tried to haul the water, Rachel, but those men would not hear of it. They insisted on doing it for me, and then some. I tried to say no, but they would not let me.’’
    Rachel’s gaze wandered to the tick. She swallowed. ‘‘Yes. I suppose that’s true enough. Still, look at all those buckets. Who do they belong to?’’
    Lissa shrugged. ‘‘I really couldn’t tell you.’’
    Rachel then turned her attention to Soda. ‘‘Do you have a key to the padlock on the front door?’’
    ‘‘Yes’m.’’
    ‘‘Would you please go and lock the front door for me?’’
    He hesitated. ‘‘I don’t know, miss. Mr. Johnnie, he hardly ever locks the door.’’
    She held out her palm. ‘‘Then give me the key and I’ll lock it. I don’t wish you to get into any trouble.’’
    He shook his head. ‘‘No, miss. I’ll lock it, if that’s what you want.’’
    She allowed him to pass by her, then reached to the side, picked up the shovel, and walked it out to Lissa. ‘‘You’ve a mattress to beat. And so help me, if I see some man doing it for you, cleaning the ticks will become your sole responsibility and no one else’s. Do I make myself clear?’’
    Lissa jerked the shovel from Rachel’s grasp and made her way to the tick.
    ————
    Johnnie frowned and jiggled the door again. Why was the door locked? Where was Soda? His customers?
    He pounded on the door. ‘‘Soda! Open up.’’
    Seconds later, he heard the lock snap free and the latch release. The door swung open.
    ‘‘What in the blazes is going on?’’ Johnnie asked Soda, stepping into the hotel, then coming up short.
    The floor gleamed, the bar shone, the tables were dust free, his statue was wearing a burlap sack, and the fourth bunk over was missing its tick.
    His gaze reversed its course. His statue was wearing a burlap sack ?
    Michael stepped in beside him, then went back outside and began to swipe the mud from his boots.
    Johnnie turned to Soda. ‘‘Where are my customers?’’
    Soda swallowed. ‘‘From now on we’s closed every day from mornin’ to supper so’s the ladies can clean up the place.’’
    Lissa shuffled in with a bucket and rag. ‘‘Hello, Mr. Parker.’’
    ‘‘Lissa.’’
    She moved to the empty bunk and began wiping down its base.
    Setting his jaw, he made a move toward the kitchen.
    Soda reached out a hand, stopping him. ‘‘You’d bes’ be wipin’ off them boots or goin’ round the alley. The missy will be givin’ you a tongue-lashin’ fer shore if’n you walk acrost her floor in them muddy boots.’’
    Her floor?
    Johnnie glared at him. ‘‘The floor will be a mess the minute the men start piling back in.’’
    Soda stared right back. ‘‘She’s been workin’ mighty hard. I’ll not have ya ruinin’ her floor.’’
    Johnnie hesitated. ‘‘Soda?’’
    ‘‘Yes, Mr. Johnnie?’’
    ‘‘When I return, my Lorenzo Bartolini had better not be wearing a flour sack.’’
    ‘‘I’ll be glad to return her to her former glory, Mr. Johnnie.’’
    ‘‘Thank you.’’ He spun out the door and made his way down the