Free An Unwilling Husband by Tera Shanley

on his lap. A saloon girl, wearing a bright blue dress with black lace trim cut so low at the neck, her plump womanly attributes were likely to tumble out. Her hair was piled in curls on top of her head. The amount of rouge on her face did little to hide her bad skin and even worse breeding. More than three quarters of the way to being unable to see a hole in a ladder, Burke didn’t seem to mind in the least. Lucky him.
    The boys always took rooms above the saloon when they stayed in town. The railroad had only come through a few years before, but the saloon was their traditional place to cut loose when they drove the cattle in. Before the train, they’d had to drive the cattle at least a month to make it to other cattle towns further north. After his nicer digs in Georgetown, the Brass Buckle left him unimpressed, but the men had worked hard for him. The hands deserved a break where they wanted.
    If not for the blasted guilt niggling at him, he’d lose his mind and take one of the whores upstairs. But he was a married man now, and it meant something.
    He sighed and downed his drink.
    “Ahem,” someone said in a dainty, ridiculous accent as the saloon doors swung creakily open. “Has anyone seen Mr. Garrett Shaw?”
    Maggie stood at the front of the room, searching for someone with her gaze and looking every bit the lamb in the lion’s den. He had seen all of her dresses. This was the plainest one she owned, but still leaps and bounds fancier than was fashionable here. Her hair was pulled back and pinned like some frilly woman in a catalog picture, and the small, frail looking hat she wore did nothing to help her fit into her surroundings. She was a striking young woman, he had to admit, but must be lacking in brains if she thought it a good idea to show up at the Brass Buckle. Men and whores only. The sign outside said as much.
    “What now?” he muttered, slammed his shot glass on the table, and threw some change on the counter. “Thanks, Milly.”
    The woman behind the bar nodded and continued to wipe the wooden top with a rag.
    He spun around and strode up to Maggie in long strides that echoed off the silent walls of the saloon. “Sorry for the interruption, fellas,” he said to the men, who had as one frozen in whatever position they’d been in when she’d arrived. He grabbed her hand and barged out of the saloon with her in tow.
    “Unhand me, you…you…barbarian! What on earth makes you think you can handle a woman like this?”
    Legs locked against any forward motion, she wrenched her hand out of his grip. She stared at him as if she actually expected him to apologize.
    “What’re you doing here, Maggie?” He was furious and there was an edge to his voice, but so what?
    She opened her mouth and shut it. Then, dammit, opened it again. “What are you doing here, Garrett Shaw? Four days married and already seeking out a loose woman? You’ve made it clear you don’t respect me in any way, but this is unacceptable.”
    He growled. Must the woman air their differences for the entire blasted town to see? Howie Raddick and his wife Hannah had pushed their way through the gathering crowd on the porch of the dry goods store to watch the show, and Raymond Hill was wearing the biggest, dumbest grin he’d ever seen. Any minute now, that trouble stirrer would be clapping and cheering the argument on.
    He pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve the tension building just behind his eyes. What could he say to her? She had a point. He knew how it looked. “Where is your horse?”
    “Lenny took him over to that stable by the hotel, I think.”
    “Lenny’s here, too?” Aw, hell. If she’d braved coming into town, something big had spooked her. He headed off in the direction of the stable, leaving Maggie to trot after him. “What’s happened? I know Lenny wouldn’t come into town without good reason,” he said when she’d almost caught up to him.
    “I need to talk to you about something,”