A Promise of Roses by Heidi Betts

the unworn clothing together, he noticed that she had opted not to wear the corset. For some reason, that pleased him. She rolled the sheer silk stockings into a ball and set them aside, along with the garters.
    Lucas sat up straighter when she came around the dressing screen and into view. He cleared his throat. “Does everything fit properly?” he asked.
    "Fine, thank you.” She tugged at the skirt, as if wearing feminine attire were alien to her. “You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."
    "You needed something to wear while your other clothes are being laundered."
    "Still, two skirts, two blouses.” Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. “And the other things. It's too much."
    He got up, dragging the second armchair to the table, setting it opposite his own. “Sit down,” he said. “Your dinner's getting cold."
    She came forward and sat, sweeping the skirt aside to fold one leg beneath her. Lucas saw a bare foot sticking out and smiled.
    "I don't think two changes of clothes are too much if you can wear them,” he said, returning to their earlier conversation.
    "That's just it,” she said. “I probably won't wear them once I get my old clothes back."
    "You don't like dressing like a lady?"
    She shifted in the chair, cutting through the crisp crust of her steak. “It's not very practical to wear expensive gowns while trying to run a business. Layers of petticoats tend to get in the way."
    "So you choose to wear men's clothes."
    Megan swallowed before answering. “I didn't used to. My mother would have swooned if I'd dared to wear trousers. But Mother is in
New York
, and I have to keep the Express afloat. You get more respect from people—especially men—if you face them on their terms. Do you really think my drivers would pay a whit of attention to me if I was wearing a frilly, lacy gown and fanning myself? No. They would humor me and then go behind my back to Caleb."
    "Your brother?"
    "Yes. But he doesn't own the Adams Express. I do. Papa left it to me in his will."
    "Did your father always want you to take over for him?"
    Megan laughed and speared a chunk of potato. “Hardly. At first he fought it tooth and nail. I started by working on the books at home, keeping all the figures straight. After a while, it seemed second nature for me to be in the depot. Caleb didn't really want the business, anyway. He tried to get involved to make Papa happy, but it wasn't in his blood. Cattle ranching suits him better, I think."
    She looked up and met Lucas's gaze over the rim of his glass. “Did Annie always wear dresses?” Good Lord, where had that come from?
    The same thought must have gone through his mind, for he choked a bit before managing to swallow his mouthful of wine.
    "Did she?” Megan asked again.
    "Do you always blurt out whatever comes into your head? Or do you just enjoy probing people's personal lives?"
    "I didn't think it was such a difficult question. It could be answered with a simple yes or no."
    "Until the next question, of course, which I'm sure you'd fire off within seconds."
    She pursed her lips. “My mouth has always run a bit rampant. I don't seem to be able to help myself. I think most people have a sort of sieve in their brains that keeps them from saying things they shouldn't. My sieve is broken, I believe."
    Lucas broke into laughter.
    "It's not funny. Truly, it's caused me nothing but trouble. I should probably see a doctor. Maybe there would be something about it in his medical books."
    "You think he could look up a cure for a broken strainer in your head?” he asked, still chuckling.
    "Not a strainer,” she corrected. “A sieve."
    That caused Lucas to clutch his belly in amusement. He all but doubled over and fell to the floor.
    "Well, don't think of it as a sieve, then. How about a door? Yes, that's better. Most people have a door in their mind that closes and keeps them from blurting out foolish things. My hinges must need greasing, because the door has ceased to