It was the argument that woke him. Loud strident voices, one female and one male, not to mention the sledgehammer that was playing a rhythmic tattoo in his brain. Stone forced his eyes to squint and allow a sliver of bright sunshine to hound him. Little by little, he opened them the rest of the way and raised his head off the pillow to look around. Immediately, he noted that he was naked, not unusual in itself; he slept that way at home. But this wasn’t home, and he wasn’t used to shedding his long johns in case he needed to respond quickly to any unusual situation that might arise.
With a groan, he held his head together with both hands and swung his feet off the side of the bed. The voices that had awakened him slowly moved on down the hotel hallway. He stumbled to the pitcher of cold water sitting on the dresser and poured some into the metal basin. Using his hands as a scoop, he splashed some of the cool water on his face and behind his neck, willing himself to come awake. Had he really drank that much whiskey last night? He didn’t think he had, but he felt like he’d been run up and down his mother’s washboard and hung out to dry. His mouth was parched, and his head still felt like it was filled with cotton wool. And there had been a girl... a very beautiful girl, and he was sure he’d come in with her. But where was she now?
Finishing his ablutions made him feel slightly better and more awake, but he still didn’t understand what had happened to the girl. He’d met her at the Nugget last night; they’d spent the evening together, and he’d brought her back here. There weren’t too many fillies who could match him shot for shot, but she’d managed it. It had been a source of great amusement for him to drink with... his brain fished for her name, but couldn’t quite remember it. Michelle? Millie? Something like that... wait! Mellon, that was it! Unusual name. Irish, or something like that. Didn’t really sound Irish, but she’d been Irish, every feisty inch of her! She’d said her name meant lightning in the old country, and he’d thought it fitting.
Stone had been intrigued by the girl and more than a little attracted to her buxom figure in the green satin dress. Her creamy breasts had tantalized him all evening, and he’d decided he had to have her, against his better judgment. After all, it wasn’t as if he bedded a different girl in every town. No, something about Mellon had been very different... and very desirable. He wished she’d stayed until the morning.
He looked down at himself and tried to think back. She must have left early, after they’d spent time in bed together; why else would he be naked? He growled and rubbed his bristly chin as he lifted his head and stared at himself in the mirror. His gray eyed gaze stared back at him, mocking him in its refusal to give over any information. It was a damn shame he couldn’t remember any of last night! He was sure it must have been something! The only thing he could remember was those creamy breasts playing hide and seek with his hot gaze all evening.
His hard muscled limbs moved like coordinated machinery beneath a tanned covering as he quickly dressed. When he picked up his wallet, he growled again. His money was gone! The cheating little vixen! He should have known! How could he have been so naive? He berated himself and tried to bury the disappointment he felt at knowing she must have been both a whore and a cheat!
Stone fumed and grizzled and then finally shrugged his broad shoulders and put the empty leather back in his pants pocket. Then he put on his boots and donned his dilapidated brown Stetson. It was a real bother, but he’d have to go around to the bank and get a small loan to get him home on. The McCormick name would be enough to secure all the cash he’d need with a promissory note, but the whole episode was damned aggravating, and his sense of frustration weighed heavily on him. He could go back to the Nugget, but chances were, she wouldn’t see him. And he might end up in jail for his efforts to get cash back from a whore!
As he let himself out into the bright sunshine, he couldn’t help squinting again. The headache wasn’t totally gone yet, and he couldn’t believe how much he must have drunk to get that soused. Maybe he’d look up Miss Mellon at the Nugget after all and take his cash out of her thieving hide... if she was still around, that is. With a grunt, he quickly discarded the idea yet again. No point in buying trouble when his brothers would be expecting him home soon.
“Ah, Mr. McCormick, so good to see you again. How is your blushing bride this morning?” The booming voice grated on Stone’s ears, and he whirled to see a man of the cloth beaming at him and looking around him as if he were looking for the afore-mentioned wife. The only problem was, Stone didn’t have a wife. He wasn’t married! He glanced behind him and beside him to make sure the preacher wasn’t talking to someone else, but the beaming countenance remained fixed on him.