Once in her room, he set her gently down, picked up the water pitcher and left the room. When he returned she was exactly where he'd left her. Pouring warm water into the bowl, he carefully washed her face and hands. He pulled her to her feet and spun her around, undoing her dress and corset.
"Where's your nightgown?" he asked.
Crystal pointed to the armoire and he retrieved the long cotton gown, removed the rest of her clothing and dropped it over her head. As his hands smoothed it into place, his body began to get other ideas but he pushed them away.
Steering her to the dressing table he plopped her down on the bench and removed the few pins that remained in her hair. He brushed it until it was snarl free and tied it back with a single blue ribbon he saw draped over the edge of the mirror.
"Do you have to use the pot?" he asked.
Crystal shook her head, blushing wildly.
"All right then, up you go," he said, picking her up and setting her on the bed.
Crystal watched as he sat and pulled off his boots. Quickly he undressed and locked the door. Then he did the strangest thing. Taking a now cool cloth from the wash basin, he knelt and bathed her aching feet. With a sigh of ecstasy, she flopped back on the bed.
"Oh my God, that's wonderful," she purred, "glorious, even better than last night."
"Careful or I'll be forced to prove I can do better," he warned, drying between her toes. "Now shove over. You cost me a lot of money tonight and I'm determined to get something in return, even if it's only a good night's sleep."
"How did I cost you money?" she asked as she scrambled to make room.
"I didn't win a hand all night," he grouched, pulling the covers over them and reaching to turn out the light.
"And that's my fault?" she asked with a yawn.
"I believe so," he answered, pulling her close, her head resting on his chest.
"Sorry."
"It's all right. Who was that old man you spent so much time talking to?"
"Whiskers? Um… nobody special," she breathed, closing her eyes for the last time as she fell asleep curled to his side.
She was lying. Jasper didn't know how he knew, but he did. The last thought on his mind as he fell asleep was that he was going to spank her for it, right after he found out who the bewhiskered man was and who he was to Clem.
***
Jasper was gone when she woke, the bed cold where he'd lain. Scrubbing her eyes, she sat up and yawned. Sleeping next to him was comforting and something she could get used to. She felt safe in his arms and, for once, the memories of her father's death hadn't invaded her dreams. Besides that, he smelled good. One of the hardest things about mingling with the men downstairs was the odor of unwashed bodies. Sooner or later, the smart ones would figure out if they wanted to be allowed upstairs, they better make time for the bathing room. Perfumed hankies held to a feminine nose could only go so far.
Rising, she stretched before noticing the note on her bedside table.
You may have been right about going to the bank. If you won't leave here and marry me, I'll pay you one hundred dollars a night as long as your 'services' are exclusively mine. Stay out of trouble today.
J.M.
As tempting as that sounded, it was impossible, she decided sadly as she picked up the gold piece and clutched it in her hand. Isolating herself upstairs in her room with Jasper, no matter how pleasurable that time might be, would not solve her problem. No, she needed to be downstairs where whiskey and desire loosened men's tongues if she hoped to find her father's killer.
Tonight it would be the red petticoat again and she would begin to gather what tidbits of information she could. In some circumstances, a pretty girl could get a whole lot more information out of a man than the intimidating Sheriff Justice. Even if he knew something, she could hardly reveal her true identity to him at this point. Like the majority of the townspeople, he probably figured Clyde McKay's son was long gone as he'd made no effort to contact him and that was the way she wanted to keep it. She'd ask Jewel to see what she could find out, just as a concerned citizen. After all, if there was a murderer running around loose, as a business owner she had a right to know.
Tossing the coin in her hand, she now had enough money to pay a visit to the town's lawyer, something she would do right after breakfast. If he seemed like an honest and forthright man, she'd hire him. Hopefully he knew of someone who could do some investigating. Foolishly, she'd left the details regarding the mine to her father. She knew he'd filed an official claim with the Bureau of Land Management, but she didn't know if those records stayed in Culpepper Cove or were sent on to somewhere else. Unfortunately, she'd discovered nothing among her father's things to prove a claim had even been staked. It was disheartening to say the least.