Breaking Down Defenses (3rd in Breaking Series)

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Sally was lying in bed feeling sorry for herself yet again. Thomas hadn't spoken a single word to her since she had given him that watch and he had quickly excused himself and headed back to town he'd been through eating dinner. Sally wondered if he had already left for another town or if he was going to stay the night in Bakerstown since it had already been nearly dark when he had left the house.

She realized that maybe she had pushed him too hard with the picture in the watch. Why did she have to be so foolish sometimes?! She needed to find him, if he was still in town, and talk to him about it. She had tried throughout the rest of the day but Jacob had stood guard over her like a hawk and made it impossible.

Her mind made up, Sally stood from the bed and slipped out of her nightdress and into a white blouse and brown trousers. She pulled on her boots and her hat, hooked her gun belt around her waist and slipped out her bedroom window. She didn't want to risk going through the house because Nathan had fallen asleep on the couch and was still out there.

The hour long ride into town was uneventful. She rode onto the empty streets of town and hitched her mare in front of the hotel. The moment she walked in Frances shook his head, "I'm not having any more part in you breaking water pitchers over men's heads," he warned. "I was just about to head home for the night."

"You know you can't resist me, Frances," Sally replied with a smile. "And besides I didn't mean to break the water pitcher. It's not my fault the man has such a hard head."

Frances frowned and ran his hand over his face, "What do you want?"

"You know what I want. Is he here?"

Frances pointed up the stairs, "He rented room twenty but he's not here. He dropped his stuff off and then went over to the saloon."

"The saloon!" she exclaimed. So much for his vow to give up on drinking. Sally had to save him from himself. Whatever demon he was running from was holding him tight and refusing to let him get away.

"Where are you going?" Frances demanded as she turned back for the door.

"To go get my man."

***

"No." Thomas said for the one-hundredth time as he tried to focus on the poker game he was playing. This red-haired whore named Charity just didn't seem to be taking no for an answer.

"You sure there isn't anything I can get you?" she asked suggestively. "Whiskey? A room upstairs?"

"I'm sure," Thomas snapped, even though the whiskey sounded damn good right about now. He sipped at the beer in front of him and folded his bad hand.

"Come on cowboy. You look a little stressed. I can help with that," Charity purred as she dropped down onto his lap.

Thomas fought the urge to knock her off of him and picked up the cards he'd been dealt, "I said I wasn't interested, ma'am," he repeated. Charity wasn't giving up that easily. Carlita had told all the other girls about this man and Charity was determined to have him herself. He was the best thing to come to Bakerstown since Brody Atkinson and Brody Atkinson hadn't visited them since he'd settled down with Elizabeth.

"What's the matter with ya, Thomas. You losing your manhood or something? Refusing whiskey and a warm woman?" Kent teased with a chuckle from across the table.

Thomas glared at him, "Get me that damn whiskey," he told Charity. He didn't really want it but he didn't want Kent harassing him either... And he wanted to get the woman out of his lap.