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wore out . . . well, let’s just say that had I known the extent of your talents, I’d have been more prepared. Have you seen my shoe?”
    Something about the way her words gushed out and she kept avoiding his eyes struck Jesse as odd, but his mind was too damned fuzzy to sort it out. How much had he drunk? A few whiskeys? Surely not enough to wipe his mind clean. Hell, he could outdrink an Irishman.
    â€œGosh, I can’t believe I fell asleep in your bed. First time I’ve ever done that.”
    It was the first time he’d ever had a woman fall asleep in his bed. That was one thing Jesse had always prided himself on, and what had always made him so good at his job: clearing himself of the scene before it became incriminating.
    â€œBy the way, you owe me three dollars.”
    â€œThree dollars!” he cried, then immediately regretted raising his voice when what felt like a thousand ice picks stabbed behind his eyeballs.
    â€œSurely you didn’t expect to spend a night with me for free.”
    No, but at that price he expected at least to remember it. How did he know he’d been given his money’s worth?
    Yet how could he prove he hadn’t?
    â€œAw, hell and damnation.” Jesse ripped his trousers off the floor and plunged his hand into the front pocket. Pulling out a handful of coins, he blinked, then narrowed his eyes. Was this all he had left?
    She snatched the required amount from his palm so fast his head spun, then headed for the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “Thanks, cowboy. You really were incredible.”
    At least one of them enjoyed it.
    After Honesty left, Jesse dragged himself off the bed, got dressed, and went downstairshoping a strong cup of coffee would help clear his head.
    He found his hostess sitting at one of the tables, several books that looked like accounts spread open before her. From the frown of consternation on her face, the numbers weren’t meeting with her approval. “Mornin’, Scarlet.”
    She glanced up, then shut each book. “Well, good mornin’, Mr. Jones.” She leaned back in her chair and gave him an appreciative once-over. “My, my, my, don’t you clean up nicely?”
    He rubbed his hand self-consciously along the short bristles that replaced the bushy beard. “I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put up wet.”
    Amusement glittered in her eyes as she gestured to the empty chair across from her. “Enjoyed yourself last night, did you?” she asked after he lowered himself into the seat.
    â€œI’m told I did.” At her strange look, he confessed, “It’s all a bit fuzzy right now.”
    â€œWell, from all the ruckus those bedsprings were making, the two of you were having a grand ole time.”
    Jess couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. If they’d been so . . . obvious . . . that even Rose knew how they’d occupied the evening, how was it that his mind remained so blank?
    Something was beginning to smell rotten in the Scarlet Rose, and this time it wasn’t him.
    Jesse leaned back in his chair and feigned casual interest. “A woman of Honesty’s talents must be quite in demand.”
    Again she looked Jesse up and down and grinned. “She seems to have a certain . . . effect on men.”
    That she did. “How long has she been working for you?”
    â€œA few weeks. Poor tiling wound up working in one of the mining camps after losin’ her family. Diphtheria, I think she said.”
    A common occurrence, and no reason to question it, Jesse thought. He’d been in enough mining camps to know that they were prime breeding grounds for disease. It also explained why she was so sensitive about that ring from her father. Still, Jesse couldn’t rid himself of the niggling feeling that there was something missing in the story. “Why didn’t she just get married? Men are a dime a dozen