Free Patrick's Charm (The Bride Train, #2) by E.E. Burke

fruit—wasn’t a lady’s drink.
    He lifted her heavy cases and set them over by the stairs. Costumes. Couldn’t imagine why she needed so many. She would want a place to put them, and to get dressed. He hadn’t thought of it earlier and should have. He wasn’t doing a very good job taking care of his good luck charm. “You can have one of the rooms upstairs.”
    Her face paled.
    He could’ve kicked himself. Working women had rooms over saloons. He quickly explained. “A dressing room is what I mean. Nothing else.”
    “Got everything unloaded...”
    Patrick turned at the remark. Childers would have to walk up about the time he stepped on his tongue. “Fine, thanks.”
    On delivery day, they typically ended up in a long conversation about the finer points of making moonshine or arguing over local politics. Today, Patrick was in no mood to chat. He wanted Childers gone as soon as possible.
    The bootlegger gave Charm a flirtatious smile.
    Patrick fought the urge to knock the other man’s teeth out. “I’ll settle with you inside.” When he turned to Charm, he softened his tone. “Won’t be long. Then I’ll take these bags up to your dressing room. The door has a bolt on the inside.”
    “That’s good to know.” She looked at him, not Childers.
    She followed him into the saloon. Patrick had never been so keenly aware of a woman’s presence, and it made him wonder if her magnetism extended to other men. Saints, he hoped not. He might end up killing someone.
    He retrieved the lockbox from a drawer in the back bar and counted out what he owed. The cost of homebrew had gone up to twelve dollars a gallon. He’d been forced to raise his prices, but he could still sell drinks for twenty-five cents a shot and make a profit. With Charm performing, he would bring in even more. Enough to pay off his debts and make improvements.
    Unless the railroad agent assigned the land to McGill. Then he would lose everything.
    He glanced up, caught Charm watching him and gave her a smile. She blushed and looked away. The classic reaction from a woman who found a man attractive.
    Maybe her stunned remark earlier meant she liked him looking different . She shied away from him when he touched her. That didn’t mean she disliked his touch. She might like it too much. And the way she’d fussed over him, not like a mother...more like a wife.
    Patrick’s heart beat faster. Why was he so bloody slow to see the obvious? She shared this insane attraction, or his name wasn’t O’Shea.
    He could ask for Charm’s hand and his problem would be solved. Marriage to Charm could turn out to be a bigger problem. Desperation made a man risk what he wouldn’t otherwise. Knowing the attraction was mutual gave him confidence, and having enough in common to make the marriage sensible made him more comfortable with the idea. Besides, it would benefit both of them. He’d keep his land, and she would have his protection and be kept safe from men who would try to take advantage. She was naïve to think she could bring her things over here and not suffer the consequences. He’d save her from herself.
    Patrick handed Childers his money.
    The bootlegger folded the bills and tucked them into a leather pouch threaded through a belt that also held a sheath. He adjusted his coat over a bone-handled knife locals called an Arkansas Toothpick. Unlike his brothers, Arch wasn’t known for being quarrelsome, yet few were willing to push the strapping young man into a fight. For his part, Patrick avoided confrontations. He’d had enough of killing in the war. However, he’d make an exception if Childers kept sending sheep-eyed looks in Charm’s direction.
    “Miss LaBelle tells me she’s gonna be performing...”
    “That’s right.” Patrick didn’t invite Childers to return. Reason told him the more men who came to the show, the more money he’d make. But he’d stopped listening to reason the moment he saw Charm sitting in the bootlegger’s