Free Lone Star Lover by Debbi Rawlins

me.”
    Rebecca’s eyes remained carefully noncommittal as they met his. “You need to rest.”
    “Come on, you two. Get your asses upstairs.” The usually unflappable Kitty seemed agitated. “I’ll be up after I grab a bottle of whiskey. Rebecca, you know which room.”
    She picked up her skirt so that the hem cleared the stairs, and promptly took the lead with remarkable agility. Jake still smarted from the jab to his ribs and had to use the handrail, but he wasn’t in so much pain that he didn’t notice her slim ankles and the sexy curve of her calf.
    “So, that’s him.” The unfamiliar feminine voice came from the balcony.
    Jake looked up to see three women in various stages of undress, leaning over the railing, sizing him up. The one with the dark hair, olive skin and abundant cleavage flashed him a flirtatious grin. “You can stay in my room, amante,” she said with a slight Spanish accent. “Lola will take very good care of you.”
    The other two blond women laughed. They all seemed to be in their midtwenties, but it was hard to tell for sure with the heavy black makeup around their eyes and their garishly red tinted lips.
    “Ruby, did ya get those sheets changed?” Kitty had already made it to the end of the bar, where the bartender had set down a bottle of booze and a couple of glasses.
    The taller, thinner blonde, wearing what Jake assumed were bloomers and a corset, twirled a long tendril of hair around her finger. “Yes, ma’am, I did.” She winked at Jake, and then switched her attention to the men at the bar. “You boys gonna drink all day, or you wanna come up and visit me and Trixie.”
    Jake didn’t see the men’s reaction, but they apparently weren’t interested because Ruby shrugged and leaned one hip against the rail while she watched Rebecca lead Jake to the second door.
    “When you get better, you come see me,” the blonde said. “I’m the fifth door.” She gave him a bored smile, sashayed to the end of the balcony and then disappeared behind the designated door.
    Five doors, five women. His insides coiling like a spring, he looked at Rebecca. She kept her face averted, but he saw her hand tremble as she turned the doorknob. So it hadn’t been the morphine confusing him, and Corbin hadn’t been blowing smoke when he’d called Rebecca a whore. Damn.

    R EBECCA HADN ’ T BEEN in her room for over a week. Not that she even considered it her room. She’d only used it for three nights after the Rangers had first brought her to Diablo Flats. Nothing here belonged to her. Not the hard narrow bed, or small dresser missing a drawer, or the washbasin and towels. She didn’t even own the hairbrush or borrowed red dress draped over the poorly made oak stool.
    Even the dress on her back belonged to Trixie, who was two inches taller and ten pounds heavier. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pair of unmentionables hanging on the back of the door. Mortified, she quickly snatched the ruffled white pantalets off the hook and balled them up behind her back before Jake could see them.
    “Who does this room belong to?” he asked, his gaze going to the chamber pot shoved halfway under the bed, before returning to her face. He looked disappointed, almost as if he’d already passed judgment over an answer she’d not yet given.
    She took a deep breath. “No one.” She wasn’t lying. Not really.
    “Who does that dress belong to?”
    “Trixie.”
    He seemed surprised. “But this isn’t her room.”
    Rebecca shook her head. “I’ll fetch some water,” she said, scooping the dress off the stool. “Cook is making beans and cornbread for supper, but if you’re still hungry I’ll check if there’s more biscuits and broth.”
    “Rebecca.”
    She tried to move past him to the door but he blocked her way. She stared at the floor. “I won’t be long.”
    “I’m not judging you.”
    That made her look up. “I don’t understand.”
    “I know what you do. How you make your