Author's Notes: New chapter! First, I can not express my gratitude towards BellaWriter7 for her awesome beta skills. She has helped so much with making this fic more historically accurate as far as mannerisms and speech, plus loads help with grammar. Plus, she has a thing for what I'm now calling Hat Porn. Explanations for that at the end of the fic. You'll understand more then.

Disclaimer: I do not own SVM or it's characters, which is a real shame since I have so many wonderful ideas of what I'd do with them.

The Gambler And The Lady

Chapter Three

SPOV

The cock crowing outside my window was particularly loud and woke me from a sound sleep. I laid in bed, my quilt drawn up to my chin and considered, not for the first time, going out and wringing that rooster's neck. Widow Fortenberry's rooster wasn't the only one that caroled the sun in the morning, but it was by far the loudest since my bedroom window overlooked the backyard with the chicken coop. What made it annoying?Maybe just the one that's closest to her window? one. A quick glance out my window showed that it was still dark out, though the sky was slowly turning a pale blue. That stupid rooster didn't even know when the sun rose. It always, for as long as I lived here, crowed just before the sun rose. Which I suppose was good if you were a farmer. But it was not at all pleasing if you were a saloon singer.

I rolled over, with the intention of going right back to sleep, but the rooster had other ideas. It started to crow again and kept up his racket until I was muttering all the recipes my Mama and Gran had taught me about preparing chicken. Seeing as I wasn't going to get that extra hour of sleep, I tossed back the quilt and got out of bed. At some point in the night I had awoken just enough to crawl under the quilt. I was shocked that I slept in my clothes, seeing as I never wore my saloon dresses until I had to go into work. I stripped off the dress and hung it on a hook next to the small dresser that took up space next to the window.

As I poured water from the pitcher sitting on the dresser into my basin, I listened for sounds of life within the house. I knew that the Widow Fortenberry would be up and getting breakfast started. But other than the faint sounds in the kitchen, no one else was up. I bathed my face and arms before drying off. I needed more than just a quick wash. I needed a bath in the worst kind of way. Last night had been particularly bad at the Lucky Sevens and I could smell the harsh cigar smoke clinging to my hair and skin, in addition to the stickiness of whiskey that had been spilled on my arms. If I asked nicely, maybe Hoyt would haul up some water for one. He should be here later, giving his mother a hand before heading over to the saloon for the same shift as me.

I went to the small wardrobe in the corner and pulled out a simple lavender dress. Small flowers in pale yellow had been embroidered along the hem and sleeves. My mother had made this dress for me, before I ran off with Bill. It might be a little too fancy for Desire, what with its lace collar and cuffs, but every time I wore it, I thought of simpler times. After that kiss last night with Northman, I needed simpler times.

I looked at the dress in my hands, hesitating before I pulled it on. I despised wearing my every day clothes when I smelled like this. My life was divided and I did not want my night life colliding with my day life, but I saw now other choice. I quickly did up the row of buttons that ran up the front of the dress and sat down on the bed to pull on my shoes. They were getting kind of worn, the leather thinning at the toes from being scuffed so many times and I can't remember how many times I've had to reattach the buttons. I'd have to buy new ones before too long. Because my feet were so small that the general store never had any shoes in my size, I'd either have to ride into Denver and order some from the specialty store, or see if Mel Hart had a Sears Roebuck catalog to order some from.

Clothed, I turned back around to pick up my brush. I ran it through my hair and used a ribbon to tie the long locks back so they hung down my back. Finally ready, I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Mrs. Fortenberry turned and gave me an even look as I entered.

"I half expected you to sleep in, seeing as you got in late last night," she said, her voice thin and waspish.

I wanted to scoff. I got in no later than usual, but I held my tongue. She was in one of her moods. No use trying to reason with her. Instead, I gave her a small smile. "No, not today. The rooster woke me and I couldn't get back to sleep."

"That damn rooster," she growled as she flipped thick slices of ham over on the pan. "I think that one of these days we'll have ourselves some nice chicken soup. Maybe when the weather turns."

Now I knew Widow Fortenberry has had that rooster for just about six years. And for nearly every day of those six years, she's been threatening to turn him into chicken soup. That damn rooster, as she put it, will be thin and stringy before she finally follows through on her threat and by then it wouldn't be worth the soup. I had no idea why she kept it. It riled her up about as much as it did all the boarders. But there you go. I suspect, and I'd never say it to her face, that she clung to the rooster for sentiment's sake. I was told by a very good source that the rooster had been a gift from her late husband, after she complained about not having one.

I smiled to myself and said nothing as she pulled a pan of biscuits out of the oven. I wandered from the kitchen into the dining room where a fresh pot of coffee sat on the table. I grabbed a cup and poured myself some. I added some fresh milk to it and went to the porch. If I had to be up this early, at least I could enjoy it.

I didn't often get to just sit and enjoy the day, I was so tuckered out usually from the night before. So this was a rare treat. I sat on the rocking chair, lifted my face into the breeze and sipped, watching Desire come to life. It started as just a trickle, the townsfolk waking up and heading out and about on their business. I smiled politely to the men who tipped their hats to me and avoided meeting the eyes of the women who still thought of me as scandalous.

It used to bother me, the way the women would look at me and sniff in derision. What right did they have to judge me? They had themselves comfy lifestyles, with husbands who made an honest living. I did what I did to survive, or at least I did now. I didn't have a choice in the beginning. They didn't know what it was like having a husband who let the money dribble through his fingers like water. They didn't know what it was like to have their husband killed because he had to cheat to win. I picked up the pieces of my life and was doing my best to get by.

I finished off my coffee and smiled warmly as Pam crossed the road to join me. "Morning, Sheriff Pam."

"Morning, Miss Sookie. You are up early," Pam commented as she leaned against the hitching post.

I gave a small shrug. "The rooster."

I didn't have to explain further and she laughed. "Oh yes, the rooster. Tell me, is Maxine threatening to make chicken soup again?"

"As soon as the weather turns, she says," I replied with my own laugh.

"That will be the day. The town will probably give her a medal if she did kill it." Pam moved up the steps and sniffed the air. "Ham. I smell ham."

"Haven't you eaten already?" Pam usually went to the hotel for her meals or had them brought to her if she was busy.

She gave a quick shake of her head. "Not yet. I was on my way over to the hotel when I saw you."

I rose, empty coffee cup in hand. I gestured to the door. "Come on it, I'm sure that Widow Fortenberry won't mind feeding another. We have an empty spot at the table, now that Mr. Norris moved on."

"He left? I didn't know that." Pam joined me as I walked back into the house.

I nodded and led the way into the dining room. "Yup. Left yesterday afternoon. Said he was going to move on to Denver and hope that he found work there."

"I wish him luck," Pam said.

We came to a stop in the dining room. Widow Fortenberry was putting out platters of food and looked up. When she saw Pam she frowned. She was just about the only person in Desire who disapproved of Pam being sheriff. Then again, Maxine disapproved of a lot of things. But, being a good hostess, the frown quickly turned to a smile. "Good morning, Sheriff."

"Morning, Mrs. Fortenberry," Pam replied, just as politely and she tipped her hat, a gesture that made Widow Fortenberry sniff disapprovingly.

I had to turn and hide a smile. Neither woman liked the other, but with the way they were acting, you never could tell. I stepped forward and fixed a bright smile on my face. "Mrs. Fortenberry, I hope you don't mind, but I've invited Pam to join us for breakfast. She hasn't had a chance to eat yet and you fix the most delicious meals."

The older woman simply preened at my compliment. I was grateful I didn't have to lie about it. She really did fix the best meals. With a wave of her hand, she motioned us to sit down. "Go on then and enjoy. You are the only one up so far, but I expect the others to join us as soon as they smell the ham."

The others were Maria Starr, who owned the small dress shop attached to the general store, Tray Dawson, a drifter who worked for the blacksmith, and Sid Matt Lancaster, a down on his luck lawyer who came to Desire a year ago. Those three and myself have been steady boarders and occasionally we have one or two more people who stayed here who were just passing through.

Pam and I settled in at the table and served ourselves. We were halfway through our meal when Maria Starr came down. The pretty seamstress was wearing a pale blue dress and her dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the base of her neck. She smiled warmly at Pam and I then sat down without a word and began to eat. Maria Starr was a quiet woman and I'm sure that Widow Fortenberry preferred her to me. For years she has been trying to get Hoyt interested in Maria Starr but so far Hoyt has been able to hold out. I had it on good authority that Hoyt was much more interested in the school teacher, Holly Cleary, who lived in a small house at the back of the school.

I finished my meal and said good-bye to Pam, who was due back at the jail. With the rest of the morning open to me, I decided to get some chores done. First I went up and gathered up my laundry in a burlap sack and took it downstairs. I stood at the bottom of the stairs. I could take my laundry to the laundress, but I didn't want to spend the 40 cents for her labor. Widow Fortenberry never had a problem with us doing our laundry and hanging it out in the back, but if I did my own laundry, that would be it for my morning.

I sighed and patted the pocket with my small purse of money in it. I'd pay to have my clothes washed this one time. I paused in the doorway of the dining room where Maxine was cleaning up the table. "Mrs. Fortenberry, I'm headed over to Luna's to drop off some laundry. I planned on stopping by the General Store on the way back. Is there anything I can fetch for you?"

I really didn't expect her to respond, much less take me up on the offer. When she did, I fixed a bright smile on my face and tried to listen. "Why, that is sweet of you, Sookie. Let me run and get the list I have done up. You'll be saving me some time since I planned on doing some cleaning today."

So I waited patiently for her to come back in with a large basket and a list. She handed both to me. "You just tell Mel to put it on my account and I'll settle up with him later in the week."

I tucked the list into the same pocket as my purse. "Yes ma'am, I'll be back directly."

With the bag in one hand and basket in the other, I headed out. It was about eight in the morning now and the town was bustling. We may be small, but we were one of the only towns in this area, so farmers and ranchers came in to do their business. We kept hoping that someone would come in and start up a bank, but no such luck so far.

I took my time strolling down the boardwalk, enjoying the crisp morning breeze. It was the start of summer and come midday, the heat would be scorching. I finally came to a stop in front of a small building. Luna Garza ran the laundry and her building was really just a building that had a wall dividing the inside into two rooms. The front room is where she did most of her business. The back room was where she actually washed the clothes. She was standing in front of a small table when I walked in.

Luna was pretty enough, with a dark skin tone that paid homage to her Indian roots. Her mother had been a white woman who had fallen in love with a Lakota warrior. When her father had been killed, Luna's mother had returned to the white man's world. Luna was scorned more than I was for her mixed blood and I felt a certain kinship with her. Luna came to Desire after her mother died. No one knows how her mother died or why Luna chose Desire. Desire, it seemed, was the place where outcasts settled.

I fixed a bright smile on my face. "Hello, Luna, how you doing?"

"I'm doing just fine, Miss Sookie. What brings you here today?" Luna said, her voice light and wispy.

I held up the bag of clothes. "I've got some laundry for you. If you've got the time, of course."

"I sure do. Just leave it here and you can pick it up tomorrow, if that is agreeable."

I set the bag down and nodded. "That's just fine. Most of it is my work dresses."

"Don't you worry, I'll take good care of them for you." Luna said as she scooped up the bag and carried it into the back. When she came out, she opened up a small book with blank pages. She made a small note on one half filled page. While she was doing that, I dug into my purse and pulled out enough coins to cover the charge. Luna took them without a word.

We exchanged pleasantries after that, sharing the latest gossip. After five minutes a gruff mountain man came in with two large bags and I bid Luna farewell. I left the laundry house and headed across the road to the General Store. The door was held open with a large rock and Mel Hart, the owner of the shop, was standing out front with a broom in hand. He watched me approached with guarded eyes.

Mr. Hart had been one of the men who had been playing with Bill when he was caught cheating. I was never sure of what he thought about me, but his shifty eyes told me it was nothing good. Sure, he might have felt guilty because he had been playing when Bill was killed. But more than likely he just didn't like me because I had been married to Bill. After Bill's death, I learned that my dearly departed husband had swindled Mr. Hart once before, on his first swing through Desire.

"Mr. Hart." I said politely.

He grunted and stepped aside, watching me with narrowed eyes. I entered the store without another word. If he didn't want to chat with me, fine. The only other person in the store was Holly and I joined her in front of the fabrics. She was stroking a bolt of calico fabric with an almost longing look on her face.

"Morning Holly." I said as I came to a stop beside her.

She jumped and jerked away from the fabric. "Miss Sookie, you startled me."

I smiled at her. It was easy to see why Hoyt lost his heart to the schoolteacher. She was very pretty, with dark blonde hair somewhere between blonde and brown that fell to her waist. Her big eyes were a pretty dark brown. She was slight in stature, but that just added to her beauty. She was like a delicate flower and, personally, I hadn't expected her to manage out here so far from civilization. But she had surprised me and won a place in the town of Desire. Even the most stiff necked woman-Widow Fortenberry comes to mind-liked Holly. Course, she didn't know Hoyt was sweet on her, and if she did, I was sure the Widow Fortenberry would be singing a different tune.

"I'm sorry. That's a pretty pattern." I looked at the fabric she had been mooning over. It was pretty, a nice pale blue, like the summer sky, with a pattern of pretty yellow roses.

"Yes, it is. I was just dreaming." Holly said, her voice a little wistful.

I wondered if those dreams included Hoyt. Holly returned his feelings, it was clear, but she had confided in me once that as much as she favored Hoyt, she did not want a mother-in-law like Widow Fortenberry. I didn't blame her one bit. I patted her on the shoulder and leaned in close to whisper to her. "You should get it. It would make a lovely dress, maybe for the Founder's Day picnic."

Holly beamed but still looked uncertain. "I've got a few months to decide. Will you be here for the picnic?"

Holly knew that I planned on leaving Desire as soon as I could afford it. "I'm not real sure. Maybe. I hope I'll have enough saved up to leave soon, honestly. I want to get over the mountains before winter." If I waited too long to leave, I would have to stay on for another winter-that or spend winter in another town. At least in Desire I had a job.

"I'll miss you when you're gone." Holly admitted. Holly was one of my only friends here. She never judged me or made any snide remarks about how I earned my keep. Holly, like me, was a widow, and she understood how hard it was for a woman on her own. Thankfully Holly had her teaching to fall back on and wasn't subjected to the indignity of singing for a bunch of drunk men night after night.

I gave her a half hug. "Oh I'll miss you too Holly. But who knows, maybe Hoyt will ask you to marry him."

Holly flushed. "Yes, maybe. First he has to work up the nerve to tell his mother he wants to court me."

We exchanged a smile at that. Hoyt was scared of his mother and it would take an awful lot of prodding to get him to tell his mother that he wasn't interested in Maria Starr. I think Maria wanted him to tell her as well because she had no interest in Hoyt, not that she'd tell Widow Fortenberry that. I think Maria was scared of telling our housemistress that she didn't favor Hoyt because the old biddy might kick her out.

"Well you have a good day." I held up the basket on my arm. "I am picking up some things for Widow Fortenberry." I glanced over my shoulder to see Mr. Hart walk back into the store and go behind his counter. I waved at Holly and headed over that way. With Mr. Hart glaring at me, I set the basket on the table.

"Good morning, Mr. Hart. I have a list from Widow Fortenberry for you. She said to add it to her account and she'd come in later this week to settle her bill." I offered him the list.

He took it grudgingly and started to fill the basket. While he was doing that, I wandered around the store, lingering over the small stack of penny novels. There were several new titles so I took my time in picking out two.

With the two small books cradled in my hands, I carried those and some thread over to the counter. On the way, I bumped into someone and almost stumbled back into a stack of canned beans. Two hands on my arms kept me from making a big mess. Smiling in gratitude I looked up, ready to thank my savior, and found myself staring up into a pair of very amused light blue eyes. Eyes that belonged to the one man I didn't want to see. Northman.

EPOV

I woke up at the godawful hour of eight in the morning. After my little encounter with the pretty Miss Sookie, I went back to the saloon for some more cards. It was around two in the morning when I stumbled back to the hotel, more than a little drunk. After that kiss, I needed the whiskey to burn her taste out of my mouth and off my lips. And while that worked, it couldn't stop my mind from returning to her. Even after I collapsed naked into my bed, thoughts of Sookie and that kiss kept me up for another hour. I had licked my lips in my tired, drunken stupor, suddenly determined to get her taste back. Now that I had her mouth, I wanted more.

I couldn't say what moved me to kiss her, it was an uncontrollable urge I hadn't been able to resist. All her anger had come back when she found me following her, turning her cheeks a delicious shade of pink; and her breasts had teased me, heaving up against the daring low cut neckline. Women never denied me, yet she did at every turn, making her even more enticing. I had tasted her surprise and then her surrender and knew that she'd be mine. Her body had molded to mine as she gave in to me. I licked my lips and could still feel her on them. I wanted to sample more than just her lips.

Getting out of bed, I strode naked to the water basin in the corner and splashed some tepid water on my face, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. My tongue felt thick and fuzzy, and I could feel the beginnings of a headache. Clearly I had overindulged, something I did not do often. I dried my face and turned back to the bed. The night before I had just dumped my saddle bags by the door. Now I picked them up and emptied the contents on the bed. Grabbing my cleanest pants and shirt, I pulled them on. All my clothes needed washing. I'd see what I could do about that after I had breakfast.

I headed downstairs, saddle bags of dirty clothes slung over my shoulders. I spoke to the clerk and learned that their dining room was serving breakfast. I headed that way and had a steak and eggs. The steak, much to my amazement, was cooked exactly how I ordered it, medium rare. It was thick and juicy and was just about the best steak I ever had. After breakfast, I spoke to the clerk again and got directions to the laundry house.

I stepped into the morning sun and settled my hat on my head and started towards the laundry house. It was across the road from the hotel so I didn't have far to walk. A petite woman wearing a plain gown with a white apron with a smattering of damp spots was just returning from the back when I walked in. Her sleeves were rolled back up above her elbows , revealing strong muscles (gained from years of washing laundry) and her hands were chapped and red, most likely from the harsh lye soap she used. I tipped my hat to her. "Mornin' ma'am. I was told that if I needed some laundry done you were the one to come to."

She gazed up at me with cautious eyes. She seemed a bit hesitant to speak to me, something I found interesting, and when she did speak, her voice came out stronger than I had expected. There was a slight accent to it, as if English was not the first language she had learned, just the slight edge she put to her words. "Yes, I'm Luna and I run this laundry."

"Then I am most grateful to meet you. I've been traveling for a few weeks now and I desperately need my clothes cleaned."

Her dark eyes flicked to the bags over my shoulder. "Is that them?"

"Yes, just a few pairs of pants and some shirts."

"I can have them ready for you by tomorrow morning," Miss Luna said as she reached for the bags. I handed them over and watched as she emptied my clothes into a woven basket. She passed the saddlebags back to me over the worn pine counter. She made a note in her book and looked up at me. "That will be 40 cents, sir."

"Northman, my name is Northman." I dug into my pocket and pulled out the correct amount and passed it to her.

"Of course, Mr. Northman, I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she took the money from me and pocketed it. Her words were a polite dismissal.

I tipped my hat to her once more in farewell. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Luna. I'll be back tomorrow."

She gave me a small smile and I turned back to the door. I stepped back out into the sun and glanced around. The saloon was opened, I noticed, but I had cut the other direction. No one but the town drunks would be there now—and they're notoriously bad losers if you did manage to get them to agree to a game. Besides, I made it a personal rule not to go to saloons before five in the afternoon. Just one of those little personal quirks.

I thought about going down to the blacksmith and retrieving Sheriff and taking him out for a ride, but I figured after all our traveling, he'd need the day off. He was a good animal, loyal, and he'd saved my life more than once with his quick gait. I also toyed with the idea of going back to the hotel and getting some more shut-eye. I always played better when I was rested. But then a flash of blonde inside the General Store caught my eye. Well, well, well. I'd recognize that sheen of gold anywhere.

Hooking my hands in the thick leather of my belt, I strolled across the street and into the store. I knew it was a mistake to see Miss Sookie so soon, given how shocked she had been after our kiss—and I was learning that propriety was important to her, even if she was a saloon singer—but I I had to see her. I had to catch her eye. I waited in the shadows and watched as she perused the stack of books. I was surprised that she showed such an interest in those silly novels. Well if that don't beat all. Normally, the fillies who spent their time mooning over penny-novel heroes were whimsical, barely worth a second glance. Miss Sookie was far from that category.

She took her time in choosing a book, time I took to study her. Gone was the sultry gown from the night before. She looked almost innocent in her pale lavender dress. Even though this dress covered more of her body that the dress last night, I found her to be even more alluring. The simple dress softened her somehow, made her beauty shine more. She made me think of women on the homestead, making up a big breakfast for their men, and calling them in for dinner with the light of the setting sun silhouetting their shape against their modest dresses. Yup. I might just prefer this softer Sookie.

She chose two books and headed back to the counter, where the man finished filling a basket full of items. I made my move. She bumped into me when I stepped in front of her and I grabbed her quickly before she could fall. The feel of her thin, warm arms in my hands made me hold her tighter, even if I could tell she didn't know it was me. She was smiling when she looked up, after all. Quick as a lick, her eyes registered my face and the blood drained from her cheeks. She stepped back out of my hold.

"A pleasant mornin' to you, Miss Sookie," I said with a tip of my hat.

"Mr. Northman," she replied, polite despite the ice in her voice.

"It is a pleasure-" I put a heavy emphasis on that word. "-to see you again."

"I would say the same," Miss Sookie replied with a wry smile, "but I was raised not to lie. Please, excuse me. I need to be on my way."

As insults go, it was a good one. She had to be a lady, I realized then. Only ladies of a certain class could manage to be polite and cold all at the same time. I wasn't off-put though. I might not be a country gentleman, but I was up for the challenge. She was a hand I couldn't read and that made me like her all the more. I'd put money on my ability to sway her to my side.

I stepped back and followed her to the counter. She laid her books and thread on the counter and waited for the man behind it to tally up her total. I waited patiently next to her, not saying a word. I caught her looking at me out the corner of her eye, but she kept her back straight and her hands folded demurely in front of me. Absently, I wondered wear her gloves were. Most ladies weren't out and about without them. I chuckled. She didn't know what to do about me. I'd be happy to show her. She thanked the man and paid him for her books and thread. The basket she took in one hand, her wrapped purchases in the other. She said a polite good bye to the both of us and left. I watched her sashay out, plotting.

"Can I help you?" the man asked gruffly.

I glanced at him and at the jars of candy behind the counter. Maybe if I couldn't charm my way into Miss Sookie's affections, I could sweeten the deal with some sweets. No woman I've known has turned down a bit of candy. I gestured to the peppermint sticks. "I'll take a couple of those."

He gave me an odd look-probably expecting me to ask for the tobacco I could see stashed to his left-but he wrapped two up in a brown paper cone. I tossed him a nickel and took my candy. Sookie was standing on the edge of the boardwalk, waiting for a line of horses to pass before crossing. I removed one of the peppermint sticks and popped it into my mouth, sucking softly as I joined her.

She huffed but said nothing. It seemed that my mere presence disturbed her. I smirked and rolled the stick of candy around in my mouth. I could wait. She would break. They all did. The horses passed and she crossed the street. I followed.

When we reached the other side, Sookie stopped and turned to me, a cross expression on her pretty face. "Are you following me?"

"You of all people should know that vanity is a sin, Miss Sookie," I smirked and surveyed the storefronts before me. "I'm just taking in the town. I arrived late last night and I like to know my way around a new place."

"So do it elsewhere," she snapped as she adjusted her hold on her books.

I leaned in toward her and before she could flinch away I whispered, "Have I gotten under your skin, Miss Sookie?" I wanted to do more than that.

Her eyes narrowed. "Of course not."

I leaned back, regretfully because that meant I was no long close enough to inhale the subtle scent of wildflower that hung in the air around her. "Peppermint?" I proffered the second stick in the cone.

A look of utter confusion replaced her cross look. She glanced at the candy then up at me, then back to the candy. She glared at it so hard I was surprised it didn't burst into flames. "I don't understand you, Mr. Northman."

"What is there to understand? I'm just a simple man, enjoying the morning with a pretty lady and offering her candy." I replied smoothly, shaking the cone in her face.

Warily she took the candy and popped it into her mouth. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." I smiled as the peppermint in my own mouth dissolved. I was making progress. Now to charm her into returning to my hotel room with me and I'd consider the day a success. "So, not much to do in town."

Sookie glanced around, pointedly looking at the townsfolk strolling by, then looked back to me. "I imagine that you'll be moving on soon."

She sounded pleased at the prospect and I hated to dash her hopes. I gave a shake of my head. "As a matter of fact-" Miss Sookie brightened at that and I had the pleasure of watching her face fall as I continued. "-I reckon I'll be sticking around for a few weeks. At least. Rest up a bit before moving on. I'm headed to California."

Maybe it was just me, but Miss Sookie looked very excited at where I'd be moving on to. "Oh, California?"

"Yup. Got business there." I had been looking across the street, watching as the sheriff spoke to an old man. But I turned to look at Sookie, who was looking up at me with a light in her eye. My eyes drifted down, taking in her dress and feeling a touch of sorrow that it wasn't cut as low as the one she wore last night. One night a temptress, and the next day she looked like a schoolteacher or someone's wife and mother.

My business was poker, and California had a very big poker game coming up. And I'd learned fast last night that, aside from being propositioned by cowboys, the other thing Miss Sookie Stackhouse hated most was gamblers. Seems she had been married to a gambler who had been killed when he was caught cheating at a table. I had no call to stir up old wounds, and it wouldn't get me one lick closer to Miss Sookie's alluring attributes.

Miss Sookie's voice tore me from my thoughts. "My brother lives outside of San Diego," she said wistfully.

"Why aren't you there?"

"Because I haven't been able to afford the cost of a coach." She looked startled, as if she hadn't meant to admit that. I was glad that she had because it explained a lot of things.

"You shouldn't travel alone," I said, looking at the delicate bones of her sweet face. "It isn't safe for a woman alone—particularly a lady such as yourself."

The look she gave me was one of utter disgust. "I am aware, Mr. Northman," she spat. "I had planned to travel to Denver to see if I could attach myself to a wagon train, or hire a guide."

She wanted to hire a guide to take her to California? Interesting. The germ of an idea planted itself in my mind. I'd have to work out the details before I mentioned it to her. I'd also have to earn her trust. But, if I had things my way, and I usually did, when I left Desire, I'd be taking Miss Sookie with me.

She was waiting for me to say something. I nodded. We walked down the length of the boardwalk in silence. The boardwalk wasn't very wide so we were walking rather close together, her skirts brushing against the leg of my pants with each stride. I felt a tingle go down my spine when our hands brushed against each other by chance. I dared to look down at her and was surprised to see her glancing at me, question in her eyes. I didn't know if she wanted me to talk more about going to California, since she was planning to go there herself, or if she was daring me to mention the kiss from last night. I wanted to but I didn't want to scare her off. I had a feeling that if I even mentioned the kiss, she'd be skittish as a jackrabbit with a hawk after it. It was Miss Sookie that broached the subject herself.

"Mr. Northman, last night…" she started, trailing off when I stopped to look at her. Her cheeks flared red under my gaze.

"Yes, Miss Sookie?"

"It was improper. I don't behave that way," Miss Sookie muttered, lowering her gaze.

"I should consider myself lucky then," I replied with a grin.

She looked up at me with a frown. "It won't happen again."

I wouldn't bet on that, I thought, but I held my tongue. People think gamblers are weak men—but I was neither weak nor stupid. I could be patient, until she realized that she wanted me. I tilted my hat back and studied her. "Well that is a real shame because kissing you was real nice."

"It was a mistake. A slip in judgment. I don't get involved with men like you."

"Now, you don't even know me, Miss Sookie," I breathed and stepped closer to her. "How do you know what kind of man I am?"

The look in her eyes hardened and I knew they had seen more than they let on. "You, Mr. Northman, are a gambler. You also carry a gun like you know how to use it. You expect women—ladies—to compromise their good name at the flash of your smile, as if you are conveying them some great favor. You are bad news and I don't need more bad in my life."

I stiffened and gave her a glare. I had to give her credit: Most people would shut up when I gave them that cold stare, but not Miss Sookie. I found that I did not like being judged by her, even though she was right about me. But being a gambler and a gunslinger didn't make me the man she thought it did. It certainly didn't make me her husband. Still, her judgment rankled, and it felt uneasy on me, like a pair of too-tight boots. Pride is a prickly think. If a man had said those words to me, I'd challenge him to a shoot out.

I stepped closer to my gaze as cold and steely as my pistol. " You had a bad experience with a gambler and you are willing tar and feather us all? You've got this town convinced of what a lady you are and how hard your situation is, but as far as I can tell, you are just as common as the next person. You might have been a lady once, but I'm guessing maybe you aren't the lady you were."

Sookie stared at me, mouth half open in shock. My words cut deep, as well they should, and Miss Sookie looked properly chastised. She shifted her small bundle of books so she could reach out to touch my arm. "Well, I'll be, Mr. Northman. I do believe I owe you an apology. You're right. It is hard not to judge. I should know better than most how difficult it is when someone judges you without really knowing you. I'm sorry."

That was just the opening I was looking for. I covered her hand with mine and gave her my most charming smile. "I'll accept, but only if you accept an offer to go on a picnic with me today. Around noon."

She gasped and pulled back. Rather, she tried to pull back but I kept my hand over hers, holding her small hand close. Her skin was smooth and soft as silk beneath mine. I met her gaze steadily and arched a brow. "A lady would accept. I don't have any sordid plans for you. All I'm asking for is a small amount of your time and company for lunch."

"It wouldn't be proper," she hedged.

I laughed and patted her hand. "Sweetheart, you don't care about being proper, or you wouldn't keep workin' in the saloon or carry a gun. Would it be so bad, riding out a ways and enjoying a nice lunch with a gentleman?"

"You aren't a gentleman," Sookie muttered.

"You are making a quick judgment again, Miss Sookie. But perhaps I'll concede that point, because I'm not a gentleman. However, my word is a good thing, and I bide by my word. I'll give you my word that no harm or disgrace will come to you while you are under my eye."

Sookie jerked at her hand and when I wouldn't release it, she growled under her breath. "Perhaps you should release my hand and show that you mean no harm."

I released her hand. "Have pity on a new fella in town. Have lunch with me. Show me around."

"You won't let this go, will you?" I shook my head and she sighed. "Very well, if only to get me peace. I will go on this picnic with you."

"See, was that so very hard?"

She made a face. "We'll see. I reserve judgment until after the picnic."

"I wouldn't expect anything else." I tipped my hat at her. "I'll come by and pick you up around noon."

"Very well. You can tell Anthony to saddle up my mare, since we are going riding." Miss Sookie shifted her bundles. "I have to get back. Mrs. Fortenberry is waiting on me to bring her back her purchases."

She turned and walked off, not giving me time to respond. I watched her walk away, admiring the sway of her hips. I watched her disappear into the boarding house and turned to head back to the hotel. I had some planning to do and a picnic lunch to acquire. As I turned, I caught sight of Sheriff Pam watching me with a small smile on her lips. I grinned at her and tipped my hat. She laughed and settled in on a bench in front of the jail. I had a feeling that I'd be seeing the sheriff again real soon. That was all right, I could handle her, I had a outing with Miss Sookie. I could start putting my plan into motion.

Author's Notes: There you have it, Gambler Eric is scheming already. Didn't take him long. Now, as for Hat Porn. I noticed that BellaWriter7 makes all kinds of squealing comments every time Eric tilts/tips his hat. She goes total fangirl over it and begs for more. So. Hat. Porn. Hubba-hubba. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I promise to do better in responding to reviews. Ciao for now.