by Sabine Starr
He watched until he saw her safely enter the Red River Saloon. He shook his head at his need to make sure she was safe in a wild town like Delaware Bend. If ever there was a woman who could take care of herself, it was Texas Belle Thompson. For once, he wished he was fast with a gun. She’d respect that skill a lot more than his ability to draw, paint, and sculpt.
“Hey, Mercy, woolgathering on Main Street ain’t smart,” Manny called from the front of his livery stable.
Mercy walked over, noticing that his friend wore his usual ragged blue jeans, faded red plaid shirt, and scuffed cowboy boots. Manny had a wild mane of ebony hair touched with bright silver to go with his grizzled beard.
“I hear you and Belle are going after Diana.” Manny spit tobacco to one side and wiped his mouth with a red bandanna.
“That’s right.” Mercy stopped in the shade. “Did you find out anything helpful about Diana today?”
“No. And I’m plum worried sick.”
“Elmira and Lamira saw Diana carried out of the Lone Star Hotel last night and forced on the back of a horse.”
“Hornswoggle!” Manny drew his bushy eyebrows together in a frown. “I never thought to knock on their door and wake them.”
“Turns out they don’t sleep much at night. Their window overlooks Main Street, and that provides a lot of entertainment.”
“Don’t doubt it. Still, I let everybody down by not thinking of them.”
“You did fine.” He glanced across the street at the Red River Saloon, but Belle wasn’t in sight yet. “The ladies said the man was riding a pacer.”
“You don’t say.” Manny scratched his head, turning his hair wilder. “Belle can track an odd mount like that easy enough.”
“That’s what she says.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s changing clothes at the Red River.”
Manny snorted. “Let’s see if she comes up with somethin’ that won’t draw every eye in Texas and Indian Territory.”
“I believe that’s her point.”
“Good’un.” He cocked his head to one side. “You gonna stand here jawin’ all day or are you gonna load up your horse and get gone?”
Mercy grinned. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I saddled your horse.” Manny winked, looking mischievous.
“And I got a dark sorrel gelding with a plain saddle and bridle ready for Belle.”
“She has her own horse.”
Mercy spit and wiped his mouth. “Last thing she needs is to ride an outfit like that into Indian Territory when she needs to keep her head down.”
“Best if nobody knows who she is?”
“Hell, yes. She’s got a reputation that won’t quit. And you don’t know what you’re riding into.”
“Won’t folks recognize her?”
“Not if you two play it smart.”
“How do you mean?”
“She’s known as a lone wolf. The outlaws who’ve seen her face are mostly in jail. Concoct some story about the two of you being together. That’ll throw folks off your scent.”
“Will she go for it?”
“Here she comes. Let’s talk some sense into her.”
Mercy watched Belle lead her horse across the street with a swagger in her step and a six-gun on her hip. She’d toned down her clothes to a cobalt riding skirt and a matching cobalt-and-white-striped blouse. She’d completed her outfit with leather vest, gloves, and cowboy boots in a rich shade of burgundy. She’d changed her Stetson from white to beige. She was no longer all dolled up, but she was still more woman than most men could handle.
“Howdy.” She joined them in front of the stable.
“Belle, I saddled Juniper for you,” Manny said.
“Is that your sorrel with the good underline and the long stride?”
“Yep.”
“Fine horse, but I like my Addy just fine.”
“She’s showy and you know it.”
Belle looked down at her clothes, then at her mount. “First Mercy and now you. I suppose Juniper would blend in better in Indian Territory.”
“I’m worried about Diana, but you, too,” Manny said. “You could be next on somebody’s list after Tex and Hackett.”
Belle nodded in agreement. “I’m not anxious to be bushwhacked. Okay, I’ll ride Juniper and leave Addy with you.”
“That’ll make you right as rain, far as looks go.” Manny spit tobacco to the side and wiped his mouth. “But you better come up with a story that’ll make you and Mercy appear to be something you’re not.”
“What do you mean?” Belle untied her saddlebags and slipped them off her horse.
“You could be an artist model,” Mercy said.
“Maybe a schoolmarm,” Manny added.
Belle put one hand on her hip and glared at them. “How about gunslinger?”
Manny laughed, coughed, and spit tobacco to one side.
“I don’t think you’re getting our point,” Mercy said.
“Sure I am.”
Manny rubbed his beard and then scratched his hair into a chicken’s nest. “You heard about Burnt Boggy Saloon and that wagonload of soiled doves, didn’t you?”
“Everybody’s heard about it. But what does that have to do with me?” Belle asked.
“Mercy was there.”
“Is any of that malarkey true?”
Mercy chuckled. “Now everybody wants to go to Burnt Boggy for excitement. First, Lady Gone Bad gets into it with outlaws and the place burns to the ground. Second, the Black Widow causes a riot and it burns again. I was there for the third fire. Red Dog and Slim had me working on their bar, but this time they’d only put up a tent, just in case.” He shook his head. “Temperance Tempest turned up followed by a wagonload of women.”
“You mean it’s true?” Belle sounded shocked.
Manny laughed. “Partly. Those women weren’t soiled doves. They were temperance ladies. And they burned down the saloon.”
“Are you sure?” Belle asked.
“I know it for a fact. Afterward, Mrs. Bartholomew and the Texas Society for the Promotion of Temperance came to the Bend with the Chancy Clancy Outlaw Gang in tow.”
Mercy laughed. “Turns out Mrs. Bartholomew and Chancy took a shine to each other.”
“They’re engaged,” Manny explained.
“And they’re going on tour,” Mercy added. “They plan to give lectures on how the TSPT convinced the bandits to mend their ways and become upright, sober citizens.”
“You’re kidding me,” Belle said.
“Mrs. Bartholomew is a wealthy widow, so she can afford it,” Mercy said. “But they’re also going to sell tickets.”
“You got to figure our local showbiz men, Burt and Bob Hayes, put that bee in their bonnet,” Manny said.
“But if they’re outlaws—” Belle started.
“First they had to talk Judge Parker into letting them trade jail time for lecture time.”
“And he agreed?” Belle asked.
“Guess he figured that was a better recompense to society,” Manny said.
Belle shook her head. “I’m surprised. He’s a tough judge.”
“If Clancy was a real bad hombre, Mrs. Bartholomew wouldn’t have gotten her way,” Manny explained.
“I suppose they might do some good,” Belle agreed, “but I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“Don’t be hard-hearted,” Manny said. “Folks can change their ways.”
“Maybe the gang won’t use lectures as a way to heist valuables.”
Manny shook his head. “You’ve been dealing with outlaws too long.”
“I’m a bounty hunter,” Belle said.
“So what do you think about our idea?” Mercy asked.
“What idea?”
Mercy smiled, trying to appear innocent. “Way I heard it, you’re the little lady who led the soiled doves to ply their trade at Burnt Boggy Saloon.”
“She’s back in Indian Territory looking for a l
ikely place to set up shop,” Manny added.
“You want me to pose as a madam?” Belle asked.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Is there another way?”
“Purveyor of talent.”
“And why am I with you?”
“I’m the artist of the Red River Saloon’s famous bar.” He grinned, enjoying toying with her. “And you’re my inspiration.”
Manny spit tobacco to the side. “Could work.”
“You’re throwing me to the wolves.”
“Do you want to catch those bushwhackers, or not?” Manny asked.
“Guess we could go as husband and wife.” Mercy smiled, not minding the idea one bit. “But if we did, you couldn’t cozy up to men and question them.”
She sighed. “You’ve got a point. Every man in Indian Territory would be willing to spend time with me if they thought I was a madam.”
“Just not too much,” Mercy added.
“In that case,” Belle said, “I guess I’d better change clothes.”
“No need,” Mercy said. “A blonde wig ought to do the trick.”
“Yep,” Manny agreed. “Ludmila will have something.”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a change,” Belle said. “But I might not run into anybody who knows me.”
“It’ll do,” Manny teased. “Those outlaws won’t be looking at your face anyway.”
Mercy laughed, shaking his head. “Miz Phoebe, I think you’re gonna be real popular.”
Belle put her hands on her hips. “Go ahead and make fun. But I’m not answering to Phoebe.”
Mercy laughed harder. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us. I’m sure we can come up with something that suits the new you.”
Chapter 10
“One thing for sure,” Manny said. “You’ve got good vittles. Mama Lou brought over molasses muffins and corn fritters.”
“I appreciate it.” Belle took a deep breath, wondering how she’d gotten into a hole that kept getting deeper. But she knew the answer. Mercy. For an Eastern tenderfoot with nothing more than a pencil or paint brush to make his way in the West, he packed a surprising wallop.
Mercy set down his saddlebags. “While you load up, I’ll go see what Ludmila has in the way of wigs.”
“You don’t trust me to go?” Belle asked.
“No. We don’t want nice,” Manny said. “See if she’s got a fancy shawl with bright colors.”
“I’ll be right back.” Mercy quickly crossed the street.
“Isn’t he supposed to be sick?” Belle asked.
“He is.”
“Well, he’s not acting much like it.”
Manny chuckled. “Looks like you lit a fire under him.”
“It’s more like I got duped into helping him.”
“Don’t think that for a minute. Diana needs you. The Bend needs you. Nobody can track like Lil Tex.”
“I’d have to be blind not to track a pacer, but so far this one has stayed one step ahead of me.”
“Odd, isn’t it?”
“Something’s not right. I should’ve had that bushwhacker in Judge Parker’s court way before now.”
“Right.” Manny spit tobacco to the side and wiped his mouth with his red bandanna.
“When I find Diana’s kidnapper, odds are I’ll find my bushwhacker.”
“Bet you’re holding aces now. You needed something to shake up your search. This is it.”
“I could make better time if I wasn’t shackled to a tenderfoot.”
“Don’t you think he’s part of the shake-up?”
“Maybe. But he’s trouble, too.”
“When did you ever run from trouble?”
She sighed again. “Maybe I better start.”
“Not likely. When you catch that horse, bring him to me. I’ll put that pacer behind a buggy where he belongs.”
Belle smiled. “I doubt it. You’d like nothing better than to ride about on a pacer just as fancy as you please.”
Manny chuckled as he picked up Mercy’s saddlebags. “I’ll tie these on the back of his saddle.”
She led her horse into the stable and then stroked down Addy’s soft nose. “You’ll be fine here with Manny.”
“Addy’s been here before and she likes it real well.”
Belle laughed. “She likes oats and rest.”
“Smart horse,” Manny said.
“Is that Mercy’s mount?”
“Yep. Kirby’s a gentle gelding.”
“He’ll never keep up with Juniper.” She stroked across Kirby’s stomach. “He’ll have a short stride.”
“If you don’t race them side by side, Kirby’ll do okay with Juniper.” He eased Mercy’s saddlebags onto the back of the saddle.
“I suppose you’re right. Kirby looks strong.”
She tied her own saddlebags on Juniper’s saddle.
“Here you go.” Manny held out a red-and-white-checkered cloth bag with a drawstring top. “Stow that away for later.”
Belle took the bag, sniffed the fragrant contents, and grinned. “I don’t know how long I can wait to eat Mama Lou’s muffins and fritters.” She eased the food into her saddlebag so as not to crush it.
“Better wait till you get out of the Bend or you’ll never hear the last of it from her.”
“I sure don’t want to get on her bad side.”
“Nobody does.”
“I appreciate the help.” She glanced around the stable, feeling as if she was setting the image in her mind for later. “You’re a good friend.”
“Friends are what make life worth living.” He pointed outside. “Now go out there and find Diana. Get that bushwhacker. Nobody was a better friend than Tex or Hackett.”
She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “They always had our backs.”
“That’s why we can’t do any less for them now.”
As Belle clutched Juniper’s reins, she glanced outside. Mercy was crossing the street, dodging horses and wagons. She’d disliked him from the moment she’d seen what he’d done to the Red River bar. But he’d been a stranger then. Now that she knew him, she didn’t even mind his erotic creations so much. He was quite the charmer, and she’d better remember it or she might succumb to every one of his little ideas. Somehow, that didn’t seem so bad.
Mercy hurried into the stable with a cloth drawstring pouch in his arms. “I got everything.”
“Let’s see,” Manny said.
Mercy pulled out a purple, rose, and green flower print shawl with black fringe. “Silk. Cost a pretty penny, too.” He tossed it toward Belle.
She caught the shawl and stroked the luxurious fabric. “It’s lovely. I’ll pay you back.”
“No thanks. This is part of finding Diana.”
“What about the wig?” Manny asked.
“I’m not sure it’s to Belle’s taste, but it’s the only one Ludmila had in her store.” He pulled out an object that looked like a dead squirrel.
“That’s awful!” Belle objected. “And it’s bright red.”
“Ludmila wasn’t too keen on it, either. Somehow or the other, it arrived in a shipment of shovels.”
“Shovels!” Manny chortled.
“You can take it right back.” Belle pointed at the wig while holding the elegant shawl close. “If I wore that, I’d look like a lady of the evening.”
“Isn’t that the idea?” Mercy asked.
She frowned. “But I could at least look like a classy strumpet.”
“Ludmila won’t take it back. She said nobody would ever buy it and she wanted it out of her store. She gave it to us.”
“Oh, all right.” Belle snatched the wig and shoved it, along with the shawl, inside her saddlebag.
“With that wig, guess your new name is easy. Red.” Manny chuckled.
Mercy joined his laughter.
Belle closed her eyes and counted to ten to keep from letting her irritation get to her. As a bounty hunter, she was used to a certain level of respect. No
w she was getting none and it rankled.
“I apologize,” Mercy said as his laughter dwindled. “I know you wanted a fancy name, and you can still have one.”
“That’s the least of my worries.”
“Belle, you oughta see your face. The idea of you wearin’ that red wig instead of a six-shooter is funny as all get-out,” Manny said.
“Do I look amused?” When her words set off another round of laughter, she rolled her eyes. “Will you two get serious? Every moment we waste here, Diana is being taken farther away.”
“Sorry.” Manny turned sober.
“So am I,” Mercy agreed. “Guess we’ve been so worried about Diana that the least thing sets us off.”
Belle swung up on the back of Juniper.
Mercy tied his extra pouch on top of his saddlebags and then mounted his gelding.
“You two be mighty careful in Indian Territory.” Manny walked alongside them as they headed out of the stable.
Outside, Belle looked up and down Main Street. Everything appeared normal, so she glanced down at Manny.
He nodded and patted Juniper’s rump. “You take care of that red wig now.”
“I’ll be sure to bring it back so you can have a turn at it.”
With Manny’s laughter ringing in her ears, she headed onto the street with Mercy by her side.
Chapter 11
As Mercy rode out of Delaware Bend with Belle, he glanced up at the sky to check the time. With the Sun riding high overhead, they were leaving about noon. He’d wanted to get out of town sooner, but they’d needed the extra time. Now they were as prepared as they could be.
Ludmila waved from the front of Adler Emporium. He waved back. On down the street, he noticed Mama Lou in front of her café. He waved again. Saul gave a thumbs-up from under the portico of the Lone Star Hotel.
“That’s just great,” Belle grumbled. “What do we get next, a marching band?”
“Guess they wanted to give us a good send-off.”
“Didn’t they consider the fact that somebody might be watching to see how we reacted to Diana’s disappearance?”
Surprised, he glanced over at her. “Do you think we’re watched?”
“If the kidnapper has help, could be.”
