Chapter Eight

Adventures in Bug's Bath House

Jordan looked at the dress she had laid out on Lily's bed with a critical eye. She had finally succumbed to her best friend's pleading and begging and agreed to not only go to the boxed lunch auction, but also the dance.

The truth was, it wasn't a hard sell. Jordan loved to dance. During the time she had lived with her grandmother in Boston, she had not only learned to dance, but also learned to love it. During the spring, it had been nothing unusual for her to attend a dance every weekend. Her grandmother had been so pleased that she had Jordan a wardrobe of dance dresses made….one even came all the way from Paris.

Her grandmother had hoped the way Jordan looked in one of those dresses would help her granddaughter snag one of Boston's most eligible bachelors. Jordan sighed. If her grandmother could see her now, she would think she had wasted her money…nowadays old, dark work skirts with durable blouses (often made over from her father's old shirts) or men's denim jeans were her wardrobe de rigor. She had one dark, silk dress that she wore to church…and the only thing she wore a corset with. The rest of the time she wore only a chemise under her clothing. Her grandmother would be shocked.

And Margaret would be horrified to find that most of the dancing dresses she had bought for her granddaughter had ended up as bandages for the Civil War soldiers. But Jordan had reckoned there was little dancing on the battlefield and the dresses would serve a much better purpose binding up someone's son, husband, or father than waiting for her to have a chance to wear them again. So they all were ripped into bandages.

Except one. The one on the bed. The one that came from Paris, France. Jordan could never bear to tear that one up. So she had tucked it away, hoping to have the chance to wear it again to a dance. But the opportunity never really came up. Sure, there had been dances in Tyler since she had returned from Manassas, but she had always opted to either forego the activities or just stay with her dad, or Garret and Nigel.

But the marshal…the new lawman…well…she had seen the way he looked at her…with the flicker of disbelief in those pale, blue eyes. First that she had been a woman at all…and then mistook her for that kind of woman. Normally, she wouldn't have cared what anyone thought, but something about this man made her want to prove to him just how wrong he was.

She eyed the dress on the bed once again with a critical eye. It would more than do…it was a deep lavender, Jordan's favorite color and one that always looked good on her. It was flounced and frilled…not too fru fru, but just enough that it whispered femininity. And with her corset laced just so, it fit her like a second skin, showing off the tops of her breasts and her long neck to their best advantage. Especially if her hair was up.

Which she planned on happening. Right after she and Lily got back from Bug's bath house. Lily had also talked her into using the new copper tub that had come in and Bug had offered some of the French milled soap that smelled like roses. If you're gonna go all out, Cavanaugh, do it right, she thought with a smile. She gathered her bath things and shouted to Lily in the next room, "Are you ready to go, Lils?"

Lily appeared in the doorway. "Just a little eager aren't we Jordan?" she grinned. "Is that your dress….wow….Marshal Hoyt will just die when he sees you in it."

Jordan snorted. "Marshal Hoyt can go to…"

"Jordan!" Lily said, pretending to be shocked. Then she chuckled. "My….the new law man has hit a nerve with you…"

"Lily…." Jordan warned.

"Okay, okay…I have my things, let's get going. We can bathe there and then come back up here to get ready. Are you spending the night with me?"

"I don't know. I guess it depends on what Dad does…if he stays in town, I will too." Max had become increasingly uneasy about Jordan staying on the claim by herself with still more dead bodies showing up in the desert. Dead bodies with bullet holes in their heads. And if Max was nervous, generally there was good reason for Jordan to be cautious. She opened the door and she and Lily headed down the stairs and over to Bug's.

Woody sighed and sank down into the warm water in Bug's bath house. One thing he would have to give Tyler, Texas, was that it had the best bath house he had the opportunity of patronizing since his assignment in New Orleans. Bug kept the establishment spotless…and offered many amenities not seen out of New Orleans. Woody leaned back in the tub and lit up his cigar. If he had a shot of whiskey, this would be the absolute perfect way to spend the afternoon. Warm water, smooth whiskey, and a good cigar. He flicked the ashes into the container Bug had supplied. With a little luck, he may even get in a good nap before he had to return to his room at Mrs. Simmons' Boarding House and get dressed for the dance.

He had just closed his eyes and was nearly in that place of unconsciousness…not quite asleep but not fully awake, when he could have sworn he heard female voices. Not that that was anything unusual. Bug had a separate bathing room for the females and he kept it locked. The women went in, he locked the door behind them, and then they knocked when they were ready to leave. It protected their privacy…but it gave the men on the other side of the wall something to dream about, anyway, Woody imagined….well, he guess that depended on who was on the other side of the wall, too.

But he knew that voice. He had heard her voice enough to recognize it…but never in that tenor. When he heard it, it had been all business…but now it was teasing…laughing….relaxed. She sounded happy.

For a fleeting moment, Woody would have given anything to see her face….relaxed, happy…content. He cleared his throat and leaned closer to the wall, hoping to hear more of the conversation…evidently Jordan was in there with her friend Lily…and they were discussing how they were going to wear their hair.

"Down, Lily…your hair should definitely be down…that red hair under the stars and the lamplight…I don't know who'll be fighting to dance with you first….Mahesh, Matt, or that new lawyer guy that kept making goo goo eyes at you during Sunday School."

"Jeffrey?"

"Yeah, Jeffrey. Don't play innocent with me….you were watching him, too…."

Woody smiled as he heard Jordan laugh. It seemed odd to him to hear her talk about such….girlish things…female conversation. He guessed it was because with her job, she was nearly surrounded by men. She rarely had a chance for such talk. Damn…I wish I could see her…

"So how are you going to wear your hair, Jo?"

Jo?

"Up, I think…"

"Ohhhh….that'll be perfect. with that dress….and its neckline…the way you pile all those curls on your head and leave the little wisps hanging down the back of your neck….you'll be tempting that new marshal all night."

Me?

Woody shifted uncomfortably in his tub…thoughts of whiskey long forgotten and his cigar was propped against the rim the container Bug left….quickly burning into ashes.

"I'm not trying to tempt Marshal Hoyt…."

Woody smiled at the indignant tone in her voice.

"Yeah…right. And I've seen the way he looks at you when he sees you crossing the street…or across the aisle during Preacher Stiles' sermon this morning…" Lily giggled.

"You, my friend, are imagining things. For some reason, the marshal has a personal vendetta against me. He seems to think I know something about these bodies that keep showing up in the desert…"

Lily laughed outright then. "And you can't see through that cockamamie bull story?"

"I don't think he's kidding, Lils. You haven't seen him when…." Jordan broke off then.

"When?" Lily asked.

"When he questions me," Jordan's voice lowered. "He means business…."

Lily was silent for a moment. "Are you scared of him, Jordan?"

Jordan suppressed a shiver. "No….of course not," she said with more bravado than she felt.

"Good…I didn't think so….because I think when he looks at you, all he sees is a woman he is very intrigued with."

Jordan snorted. "Me? Intriguing?"

"And one that is very beautiful….when she lets herself be…"

I'd agree with that… Woody shifted in his tub again. The water was getting cold….and even if the conversation in the next room had kicked his curiosity into high gear, goose bumps had begun their trail along his body. He turned to hoist himself out when he noticed there was a crack in the wall…not a very big one, but one he could use to get a tempting glimpse of the women in the next room.

He shouldn't, you know. Look through that crack. He had arrested men for doing that. And what if the woman he saw wasn't Jordan? He wouldn't be able to look Bug or Matt in the eyes again. Woody swallowed hard. He'd take that chance.

Stealthily, he moved his eye to the crack, holding his breath and hoping for the best…and was rewarded beyond his dreams. Jordan was directly in front of him…and although her back was to him, he had the sheer delight of watching her bathe both of those hopelessly long legs….legs that he now knew were meant to wrap around a man's waist…his waist. He swallowed hard.

And despite his chilly skin, broke out in a sweat when she stood up to dry off. Dear God, her skin was like porcelain... and that chestnut hair hung nearly to her waist…and her sweet ass…

There was no doubt about what he was going to do tonight…he was going to dance every dance he could with Miss Cavanaugh…Meanwhile, he was going to have to try to remember what she looked like with her clothes on.

"Marshal Hoyt, are you all right?" a voice called from the other side of the door. "You've been in there a long time…"

"Ah..sure…." Woody said, "ahh..ah…must have fallen asleep. Sorry Bug." He made a grab for his hat to cover the part of him that was still suffering from the effects of seeing a very bare and very wet Jordan Cavanaugh.

Marshal Hoyt….Jordan drew a shocked breath in. Then relaxed when she realized that sturdy two by fours and a wall of inch-thick wooden planks were between them….Despite whatever he can do…even Marshal Hoyt can't see through walls….