by Marie Piper
Something on Bill McKenzie’s face made Matthew feel for him. Matthew remembered the rough kinds of men who went out on cattle drives. Bill obviously had his hands full keeping his many brothers and his hired hands in line. Twenty men could be as hard to wrangle as five hundred head of cattle.
Luke looked at Matthew. “Well, I suppose since the judge is running behind, letting them go into your care can be arranged. You’ll need to talk to Mr. Porter who runs the saloon, as well as Callie Lee, and Jack Braxton. All three of them needed medical attention thanks to your boys, and Porter lost a poker table thanks to a fire one of your men decided to start.”
“Tell me where to find them, and I will make amends.”
Luke turned to Matthew. “Reckon you could round them up right quick?”
“You bet.”
“I’d appreciate it, Deputy.” Bill touched the brim of his hat to Matthew and headed into the jail with Luke. Matthew would have loved to hear the chewing out Bill was about to rain down on his men and brothers, but he had folks to find.
Taking a wild guess where Braxton would be, he headed for the saloon. In the morning light, Porter’s stood empty, save for the bartender standing on a ladder washing the windows until they shone. With all the dust in town, Matthew guessed he had to do that every morning to keep the place clean. Despite his feelings about Hank Porter as a man, under his ownership the saloon sparkled and shone brighter than it ever had before.
“I need Porter, Miss Lee, and Mr. Braxton, if you’ve got him too.”
The bartender barely stopped working. “Jack is upstairs with Callie. First room at the top of the stairs on the left.” Matthew couldn’t help but note the familiarity with which the bartender used Braxton’s first name, and how he nonchalantly ratted out that the two had spent the night together. In the bartender’s business, though, such things were likely commonplace.
Porter’s looked like any saloon anywhere, except cleaner. Matthew had been to quite a few while he’d been working a cattle drives, and though they offered a welcome reprieve from the hot sun and hard labor of a drive, he’d never taken to them. Too often they were noisy and full of folks gunning to make bad decisions. Matthew had seen too many men fall into the temptations provided within.
He hated being in the saloon in Cricket Bend, and steered clear of it as often as he could. As a young man out in the world alone for the first time in his life, he’d succumbed to the temptations such a place offered more than once. Though he hated to admit it, he’d spent a few nights with women like Callie Lee in those years he’d been gone from town. Partly to feel like he fit in with the other cattlemen, partly from aching loneliness, and partly to attempt to drive the memory of Haven’s eyes from his mind. He’d gotten drunk and gone upstairs with women a few times over those years. Though he’d found fleeting warmth buried in a woman in an upstairs bedroom, he’d always left feeling guilty and incomplete.
There’d been a cute little redhead at a saloon in Denver. She was his first time. He had shook in his boots, but she took his hand and led him upstairs. The boys behind him had hooted and hollered until the door was closed, and he found himself alone with her. She was all woman too. Seventeen and scared, he’d froze, but she had talked sweet to him and he quickly understood why men lost their minds over women all the time. He’d gone to a few other women along the drives—some young and pretty, some not so much so. He would've been a liar to deny he’d enjoyed it, but after he left those women the feelings he’d been trying to lose still lingered. He’d done quite a few stupid things, and he had been lucky to come through it all without disgrace or ruin. Matthew reached the door the bartender had mentioned and knocked loudly.
“Miss Lee. It’s Deputy Frank.”
He heard voices and feet shuffling from the other side of the door. A moment later, a female face free of make-up peeked through a crack in the door at him. Without all the fuss and rouge, Callie looked a hundred times prettier.
“Deputy Frank,” she breathed in a fluttery voice, “I never expected you’d knock on my door.”
“It ain’t for why you think,” he replied. “Sheriff wants you and Mr. Braxton at the jail.”
“Wasn’t aware we were doing anything illegal,” Braxton called in a jovial tone.
Matthew spoke loud enough for both of them to hear. “Bill McKenzie’s come to get his boys, and to make reparations. You both got hurt. That’s all.”
Callie looked behind the door at Braxton, and they whispered for a few moments. Matthew remembered Callie’s brassiness when she was up on her balcony, and noticed how the woman who stood a few inches away seemed so very different.
When she looked back at Matthew and spoke again, her voice was different. The play-acting, the flirting, was gone. She spoke simply and calmly. “We’ll be there in a minute, Deputy. Thank you.”
“Ma’am,” Matthew replied with a nod and a half-smile. Before she closed the door, he spoke again. “I need Porter too. Which room is his?”
Callie looked surprised. “Hank’s not here. He went out a little bit ago to get those stitches out.”
Matthew groaned. He knew immediately where he’d find the scoundrel.
***
Haven
“Morning!” Haven held a bouquet of flowers in her hand as she swept into the clinic, hanging her bag on a hook. “You’ll be pleased to know I finally brought those bluebonnets I—”
She stopped talking when she saw Hank.
Doc was bent over him, busy taking out his stitches, and Hank flashed his ever-charming smile. “Good morning, Miss Anderson. The good doctor here agrees with you that my stitches are ready to come out, and I figured no time like the present.” He spoke as if nothing had happened between them the previous afternoon, but his eyes set on her with a mischievous glint that made her think he was recalling it all with great detail. “My, but those flowers are lovely. Nothing is prettier than a Texas bluebonnet, I’ve always said.”
The memory of kissing him surrounded by the flowers made parts of her body respond in ways she didn’t appreciate. As she turned around to get her apron, she could feel Hank’s eyes on her. Panic and guilt threatened to overwhelm her. Doc could never know what had transpired. No one could ever know.
“What’s the fuss at the jail?” she asked, peering out the window.
“Looks like Bill McKenzie came for his boys,” Doc offered. “I reckon your father will be pleased as punch to get rid of them. If I know Luke, he’ll give them a stern talking to about ever stepping foot in Cricket Bend again.”
“Think they’ll listen?” Haven put on her apron and rolled up her sleeves.
“Until next year.” Doc grinned at Hank. “The lure of women and whiskey will likely prove too tempting to resist. Ain’t too many places like Porter’s around.”
“I aim to please,” Hank retorted. “Though next year I’ll hide all the bottles and matches I can find.”
“That’s the last of them,” Doc said, stepping back and setting down his scissors. “You’ll always wear the scar of the McKenzie boys, unfortunately. Haven did a fine job of minimizing it though.”
Hank smiled appreciatively. “I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. What do I owe you?”
Doc waved his hand. “I can’t charge a man for healing a wound he got defending his property. I can, however, charge the cowboys who gave you the injury. And I intend to. I expect they’ll be calling me over there any minute now.”
“Your benevolence is appreciated. You must let me treat you to libations some evening.” Haven admired Hank’s ability to read everyone and say all the right things. Doc enjoyed his spirits, and Hank had observed enough to have figured that out.
Doc clapped Hank on the shoulder. “Young man, I may take you up on that.”
“Hey, Doc.” Matthew walked into the clinic and took off his hat. Haven inhaled sharply at being in the same room as both him and Hank, but she kept her head about her. Hank had been wounded. Of course he was at the clinic. Where else would
he be? Nothing was out of the ordinary, and if she didn’t blow it, Matthew would think nothing unusual. “Bill McKenzie is here to settle up for damages caused, including your care of the wounded.”
Doc winked at Hank. “I figured that was coming.”
Matthew turned to Haven. “You want to punch Theo McKenzie or anything before he goes? I’ll gladly hold him for you.”
“No, thank you,” she replied, “I’ll be happy to never lay eyes on him again. I’ll stay here if it’s all right.” If she never saw the youngest McKenzie boy again, she’d be just fine with that. Just the thought of what he’d done to her during the brawl made her fold her arms across her chest and frown.
Matthew looked at Hank. “Sheriff wants you over at the jail too.”
Hank jumped out of his chair. “Thank you, Deputy. At last I will have some reimbursement for my lost poker table.” He put himself between Matthew and Haven, bringing his gaze down to Haven’s. “My dear Miss Anderson, please remember that the offer I made the good doctor applies to you too. Any time you wish to visit the saloon, consider all your drinks on the house. It’s the least I can do as payback for such exceptional care.”
“We’ve had this discussion, Mr. Porter,” Haven said. “Still, thank you.”
Hank reached for Haven’s folded arms and took one hand in his. “No, thank you.” As he bent over, he pressed his lips to her hand. It was a bold gesture, one intended to rattle Matthew, and though Haven’s skin tingled at the touch of his lips, she knew Matthew was watching and wanted to smack Hank. The kiss kept going, and Haven finally had to pull her hand away, though she did it with a chuckle. “Have a nice day, Hank.”
Hank tipped his hat to Matthew and practically skipped out the door, with Doc following behind him inquiring further about liquors.
“What the hell was that?” The two men were barely out the door before Matthew spoke.
“What was what?” Haven replied as if she didn’t know exactly what he meant.
“He kissed your hand. He called you ‘my dear.’”
Haven sighed. “Hank—”
“Mr. Porter.”
“Hank flirts with me. He’s been flirting with me since the day he got here. I don’t see any harm in it. Jeepers.”
“Jeepers? Now you’re talking like Callie Lee.”
“So what if I am?”
Matthew looked startled, and Haven knew she was pushing the limits of his patience. “It ain’t right for you to be friends with the likes of her. I don’t want you talking to her or Porter anymore.” A pained expression crossed his face as the words left his lips.
“You sound like Papa.”
“He ain’t wrong.”
“Let me get this straight. I can’t go to the saloon. I’m to stop working as soon as we’re married, and now you’re trying to tell me who I can and can’t talk to. Would you like to also tell me what dresses it’s all right for me to wear, and what I should make for supper? Perhaps you’d like to pick out what books it’s all right for me to read.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Genuine surprise showed on his face. “I swear, Haven, you’re the smartest girl I know and you don’t see through Porter’s flash.” Matthew reached out and touched her face. “I would rather die than see anything bad happen to you, especially at the hands of a man like that.”
Haven hated him in that moment, for the first time in her life. All the passion, all the rage, all the bottled up emotions exploded as she pulled her face away. “It’s always ‘a man like that’ and ‘a woman like me.’ I swear, I get so tired of hearing about the things a woman like me should and shouldn’t do, when in truth not one person in this town knows the kind of woman I am.”
“You think I don’t know who you are.”
“I think you don’t know the half of it.” Haven turned her back on him and went to take a vase off the shelf. Her emotions made her shake. With trembling hands, she shoved the flowers into the vase, then gripped the counter so hard her knuckles went white. If he didn’t leave, she was likely to further lose her temper and say things she’d regret; terrible things that would hurt him.
“Haven,” Matthew spoke so softly, she barely heard it. His voice implored her, and she could have burst into tears and gone into his arms if she hadn’t been so furious and stubborn.
“Go away,” she replied. “The last thing I want to do is talk to you.”
There was silence for a moment.
“I’ll be moving into the house this evening, if you have anything you want me to take over.”
“I don’t.”
The clinic door slammed behind him as he went outside. When he was gone, Haven bent forward and put her head in her hands. The whole world had gone crazy, and she didn’t know which way was up anymore. Everything seemed complicated.
When she stepped out the back door of the clinic to fill the vase with water and found Hank waiting, it came as a relief. The rascal, the rogue, was the lone thing in her life that wasn’t complicated. He wanted her, admitted it freely, and acted on it.
“Having a trying day, my dear?”
“You don’t want to know.” She smacked his arm. “And I’m mad at you for pulling a stunt like that in front of Matthew.”
Hank looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched before he held her up against the back wall of the clinic. “Allow me to make it up to you.” Haven gasped as he pressed his mouth to hers and ran a hand down her back to take hold of her waist, a gesture so bold and forward it both offended and thrilled her at the same time.
“You wicked man,” she whispered. “Anyone could see us out here.”
“They won’t,” he whispered back. “Meet me tomorrow night.”
“How?”
“You’ll find a way. Come to the back door of the saloon.”
“But there are so many people at the saloon!”
“Indeed. So many that one more body won’t even be noticed. You can do the best hiding in the most crowded of places.” Hank ran a finger across her jaw and down to her neckline. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Will you come?”
Most of the bones of her body screamed against it, but she nodded in agreement. Hank kissed her neck quickly, and she bent into the feeling. Then he darted away, leaving her leaning, breathless, against the wall with the glass vase shaking in her hand.
***
Matthew
When negotiations with Bill McKenzie were concluded, Doc was paid a fair rate for the medical care of the three wounded, and Callie made sure the damage at the saloon was paid for. Hank ducked away to relieve himself, and Matthew rolled his eyes at the man’s timing. What kind of man walked away and left a woman with the burden of dealing with his business, nature’s call or not?
Appeased, Luke faced Bill McKenzie. “You take your boys on north. I won’t tell you all never to come back to Cricket Bend, but the next time a McKenzie man winds up in my jail I’ll hang him myself.” Luke called over his shoulder into the jail. “You boys hear me in there?”
A chorus of grumpy voices replied, “Yes, sir.”
Luke tossed the keys to Matthew. “Let them out, Deputy.”
Matthew only barely paid attention to what had transpired. His mind was still across the street and on the furious eyes of his fiancée. Still, he obeyed and unlocked the cells. The McKenzie gang streamed out in one line like a chain gang without a chain. All of them looked at the ground, as if they knew they were in deep trouble. He didn’t envy them the wrath of the McKenzie patriarch they’d have to face upon their return. He followed them out of the jail, where Doc, Braxton, Callie, and Luke stood with Bill McKenzie, and couldn’t resist giving Theo a small shove when the young cowboy dawdled.
Hank came back around the corner just then, fiddling with his belt.
“Andrew,” Bill called. A scruffy cowboy of about twenty-six came forward, eyes on the dirt. He’d been the man who’d started the whole brawl, slugged Callie, and stabbed Braxton. “You especially owe Miss Lee
and Mr. Braxton here an apology. Though if they don’t accept it, or if they want to punch you, I can’t say I blame them.”
“Ma’am,” Andrew fidgeted as he went to Callie, “I’m right sorry for what I done.”
Callie glared at him. “If I ever see your face in Porter’s again, I’ll kick you so hard you’ll never have babies, you understand me?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Andrew turned to Braxton, who simply pointed to Callie. “What she said.”
The cowboys got onto their horses and began to trickle down the street out of town. Before they rode off, Braxton stepped up to Bill. “On your drive, you come across a big man with long gray hair who rides a big paint and wears glasses?”
“I seen that man.” Bill’s eyes narrowed. “He followed us for a day or so before we all got together to ride him off. I won’t soon forget the look of him. Made the hair on my neck stand up.”
”How long ago?”
“Not long. Maybe a week. Who is he?”
“Murderer. You and your boys keep your eyes open, and shoot him if you get a chance. There’s a big bounty for him back in Nebraska.”
Matthew couldn’t help but notice Hank perk up at that news. Suddenly, the man who had barely been paying attention to the conversation was all ears and watching Braxton with an intense look in his eyes. Men who ran saloons usually prided themselves on knowing everything that went on in a town. It was part of their business to get folks drinking enough to run their mouths and spill their secrets. Was Hank so high on himself and his fancy clothes that he didn’t pay attention to gossip, the lifeblood of the small town he resided in? If Matthew hadn’t liked the man before, and he certainly hadn’t, his opinion fell even lower as Hank listened intently to Braxton’s and Bill’s conversation as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard. Bill answered Braxton. “If we get him, you want us to bring him back here?”
Braxton shook his head. “If you can kill him, you earned the bounty yourselves. I’d just be grateful if you’d wire to let me know.”
