Thank you dear friends, for your concern, for your reviews, for adding this to your list of favorite stories, for continuing on the journey and simply for giving this story a try.
I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own 'To Love A Texan', but I have twisted, and tweaked the story to make it seem mine :)
Sam Evans was a very confused man at the moment.
He wasn't quite sure, why he had gone to Mercedes' door. But it had something to do with holding her in his arms, out on the balcony, at the dance.
She felt so soft, warm and so good and she looked innocent, yet spirited and stubborn like himself. She had seemed so beautiful to him tonight.
'Maybe, I just needed a woman, that was all,' he told himself.
While she was not the answer, he had a feeling she was just on the other side of the door, listening, and waiting.
Hell, he wasn't a man to beg…he'd never had to beg a woman before.
He was annoyed at her refusal.
He turned and looked back at the dim hall, and thought about returning upstairs.
Any one of the girls would welcome him into their beds, no doubt. They were all easier that Mercedes, but tonight, he wanted something else…something challenging and unobtainable.
As far back as he could remember, he didn't think he'd ever had a virgin.
Of course, that woman would probably talk through the whole thing and correct his grammar. So why would any sane man desire her?
And, was she really smitten with that pip-squeak, Lieutenant Fortenbury? He almost growled at the thought of that nancy-boy in bed with her.
Buford Fortenbury couldn't satisfy a woman like that. Once a man ignited the passion flowing deep in her brown eyes, he would have a wildcat on his hands…or maybe not.
But, Miss Jones was innocent, Sam could tell and he was more than certain, she needed protection against a villain like Buford.
But, protecting the virtue of that stubborn woman, wasn't Sam's problem. His problem was that, the rotten pip-squeak Fortenbury, might end up with her half of the Texas Lily.
Sam shuddered at the thought.
He undressed slowly, annoyed with Mercedes and himself…that he made a fool of himself just now, begging at her door like a hungry dog sitting up for a bone.
He wouldn't be that stupid and that weak again.
He went to bed and laid there sleepless, something he never did.
He wished now, that he had kissed her, when the urge was so strong. She might have slapped his face, but no woman has ever refused his kisses.
But who knew, what the prim old maid was liable to do?
After a sleepless night, Sam arose on Sunday morning and began to cook breakfast.
The girls wandered downstairs in their housecoats, yawning and chattering.
Of course, Mercedes came down, clad in an unflattering dress and her hair once again in a tight bun.
"Good morning, ladies," he said in a tone heartier than how he felt. The girls giggled, but Mercedes made a face and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"I'm oppose to this dangerous…whatever it is. Something is bound to go wrong," she said, referring to the planned fake attack.
"Be positive," Sam growled and handed a plate of eggs and ham to Carmen.
"Humph!" Mercedes grumbled, as she accepted the plate from Carmen.
"Mercy," he said, as if speaking to a child. "We must save this town and I don't have any better ideas. Do you?"
"We could petition Congress…"
"Yep. And how far would that get us?" He grumbled and she went quiet.
He watched her. He was sober this morning and she still looked good to him, even if she was back in her uniform of modest dress and severe hair.
'Seems as though, what happened last night didn't affect her...at all. That's cold...' he thought.
Carmen poured more coffee and said to him,
"Mr. Sam, do your best tonight. Are you in any danger?" Sam shook his head.
"No, the cowboys and the soldiers will make a lot of noise with their guns, but they'll be shooting over everyone's heads…to make it look real to the investors and the congressmen. Some of them might get scared and they may wet their pants…"
"Ahem." Mercedes scowled at him. He bowed.
"Oh, excuse me. I forgot there was a lady present." Rachel made a face.
"And what are we? Chopped liver?"
He ignored Rachel for a few seconds and found himself staring at Mercedes. She was blushing. No doubt about it. She was a lady, much too high-classed for a Texas saloon brawler like him.
"Girls, I meant no disrespect. Now, let's get through here. Carmen, cook your best dinner for our visitors and girls, keep them amused all afternoon, while the guys and I work on the stagecoach and the costumes."
Mercedes' face flamed.
"Not in this house!"
"Oh hell!" Sam muttered. And then, "Girls, take them out for a nice long walk, over to the livery stable…there's a barn full of hay there." He grinned to himself.
'One, two, thr…'
"I object!" Mercedes said, and slammed her coffee cup down.
'There it is. So predictable.' Sam turned, with his ladle in his hand.
"Miss Mercy, I'm not asking you to personally amuse the visitors and I'm not telling the girls to do 'anything'. I'm only saying, keep them busy, entertained and informed…even if you have to play cards with them."
The girls giggled and Mercedes knew she'd been had. She sighed audibly.
"Mr. Evans, you have no conscience. You are an unmitigated scoundrel."
"Thank you!" He smiled and nodded.
"That was not a compliment," she almost screamed at him. He winked at her.
"I'm just a stupid Texan, how would I know." She allowed his remark to slide.
"Ladies, behave honorably and defend your virtue…" Sam snorted.
"That's sort of locking the barn, when the horse was stolen long ago."
"Mr. Evans," Mercedes seethed. "Could you be any more crude?" He looked at her, his trademark lopsided grin on full display and flipped a pancake.
"I don't know. Want me to try?"
"No!"
She poured herself another cup of coffee and retreated to her room, wanting so much, to smack that sexy grin off his handsome face. Why had this ruffian seemed so appealing last night? She must've been moonstruck.
Lieutenant Fortenbury cleaned his rifle and looked up at the sun.
It was mid-afternoon and he knew the visitors were over at the Texas Lily, having an early dinner.
He scowled, thinking about last night.
That damned gambler, had seemed randier than that billy goat, aiming to charm Miss Jones. He knew he's after her share of the Lily, but he, himself, intended to have it and after tonight, there would be only one owner, anyway.
He smiled at his own cleverness.
The show…the fake attack, is supposed to take place at dusk, just before the visitors leave, to show them the town could be well protected against a real attack.
There would be lots of shooting, shouting and confusion.
He examined his rifle critically.
He was not a good shot, but since he didn't intend to end up in another state, his life hardly depended on his shooting.
What he'd like to do, was to own a fine saloon and bawdy house, like the Texas Lily. Then, in two years, when his enlistment was up, he'd live an easy life, with all the liquor he could drink, plenty of income, and sleeping with all the girls upstairs.
After that, he might sell the bordello at a profit and head home.
Maybe his father would forgive him and think twice about disinheriting his youngest son, for getting that society girl pregnant and deserting her.
It would be horrible to go through life poor and that certainly wasn't in Buford Fortenbury's plans.
He frowned.
To end up with the Lily, he had to get rid of Sam Evans, so Miss Jones could inherit the gambler's half. Then Buford could charm her into marrying him…that might not be so easy.
He'd seen sparks fly between her and Evans, at the dance last night.
Buford checked his rifle again.
The troops had been given orders, to make a lot of noise with their weapons tonight, and shoot over the fake Indians' heads.
Now, if Sam Evans accidentally got shot and killed in tonight's adventures, no one would know who did it.
Buford grinned.
He might not be a great shot, but he could shoot well enough at close range, to kill that damned southerner.
Well, well, Buford is beginning to show his true intentions. Stay tuned.