Lawless jh-3

by Nora Roberts

  She wasn’t sure she could speak, though she could hardly claim to be surprised. He’d made no secret about the fact that he was courting her. She studied his face in silence. He was everything she had dreamed of. Handsome, dashing, dependable, successful. Now he was offering her everything she had dreamed of. A home, a family, a full and happy life. She wanted to say yes, to lift a hand to his cheek and smile. But she couldn’t. She looked away, struggling to find the right words.

  She saw him then. He was hardly more than a silhouette on the horizon. An anonymous man on horseback.

  But she knew without seeing his face, without hearing his voice, that it was Jake. That knowledge alone made her pulse beat fast and her body yearn.

  Deliberately she turned away. “Samuel, I can’t begin to tell you how flattered I am by your offer.”

  He sensed refusal, and though anger tightened within him, he only smiled. “Please, don’t give me an answer now. I’d like you to think about it. Believe me, Sarah, I realize we’ve known each other only a short time and your feelings might not be as strong as mine.

  Give me a chance to change that.”

  “Thank you.” She didn’t object when he kissed her hand again. “I will think about it.” That she promised herself. “I’m very grateful you’re patient. There’s so much on my mind right now. I’ve nearly got my life under control again, and now that I’m going to open the mine-” “The mine?” His hand tightened on hers. “You’re going to open the mine?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a puzzled look. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no, it’s only that it’s dangerous.” It was a measure of his ambition that he was able to bring himself under control so quickly. “And I’m afraid doing so might distress you more than you realize. After all, the mine killed your father.”

  “I know. But it also gave him life. I feel strongly that he would have wanted me to continue there.” “Will you do something for me?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Think about it carefully. You’re too important to me. I would hate to have you waste yourself on an empty dream.” With another smile, he clucked to the horses. “And if you marry me, I’ll see that the mine is worked without causing you any heartache.”

  “I will think about it.” But her mind was crowded with other thoughts as she looked over her shoulder at the lone rider on the hill.

  Chapter Nine

  Sarah had never been more excited about a dance in her life. Nor had she ever worked harder. The moment the plans had been announced for a town dance to celebrate Independence Day, the orders for dresses began to pour in. She left all the chores to Lucius and sewed night and day.

  Her fingers were cramped and her eyes burned, but she had earned enough to put through an order for the wood floor she wanted so badly.

  After the floor, Sarah thought, she would order glass for the windows and a proper set of dishes. Then, when time and money allowed, she was going to have Lucius build her a real bedroom. With a little laugh, she closed her eyes and imagined it. If the mine came through, she would have that house with four bedrooms and a parlor, but for now she’d settle for a real floor beneath her feet.

  Soon, she thought. But before floors and windows came the dance.

  She might have made every frock as pretty and as fashionable as her skill allowed, but she wasn’t about to be outdone. On the afternoon of the dance she took out her best silk dress. It was a pale lavender blue, the color of moonbeams in a forest. White lace flirted at the square-cut bodice that accented the line of her throat and a hint of shoulder. There were pert bows of a deeper lavender at the edge of each poofed sleeve. She laced her stays so tightly that her ribs hurt, telling herself it would be worth it. With her hand mirror, she struggled to see different parts of herself and put them together in her mind for a complete image. The flounced skirt with the bows was flattering, she decided, and the matching velvet ribbon at her throat was a nice touch. She would have pinned her cameo to it, but that, like so much else, had been lost.

  She wouldn’t think about that tonight, she told herself as she patted her hair. She’d swept it up, and its weight had caused her to use every hairpin she could find. But, she thought with a nod, it looked effortless, curling ever so slightly at her ears and temples. It was important that she look her best. Very important, she added, pulling on her long white gloves.

  If Jake was there, she wanted him to see just what he’d tossed aside. She swept on her white lace shawl, checked the contents of her reticule, then stepped outside. “Glory be.” Lucius stood by the wagon with his hat in his hand. He’d cleaned up without her having to remind him, and had even taken a razor to his chin. When she smiled at him, he decided that if he’d been ten years younger he’d have given Jake a run for his money.

  “Lucius, how handsome you look.”

  “Hell, Miss Sarah. I mean-” He cleared his throat.

  “You sure look a sight.”

  Recognizing that as a compliment, Sarah smiled and held out a hand. With as much style as he could muster, Lucius helped her into the wagon.

  “You’re going to set them on their ears.”

  “I hope so.” At least she hoped she set one person on his ear. “You’re going to save a dance for me, aren’t you, Lucius?”

  “I’d be pleased to. If I do say so, I dance right well, drunk or sober.”

  “Perhaps you’ll try it sober tonight.”

  Jake saw them ride into town. He was sitting at his window, smoking and watching some of the cowboys racing in the streets, waving their hats, shooting off guns and howling.

  Independence Day, he thought, blowing smoke at the sky. Most of them figured they had a right to freedom and the land they’d claimed. He’d come to accept that they, and others like them, would take the Arizona Territory and the rest of the West. Black Hawk, and others like him, would never stop the rush.

  And he was neither invader nor invaded.

  Maybe that was why he had never tried to put his mark on the land. Not since he’d lost what his father had tried to build. It was better to keep whatever you owned light, light enough that it fit on your horse.

  The town was full of noise and people. Most of the cowhands were going to get three-quarters drunk, and they were liable to end up shooting themselves instead of the targets Cody had set up for the marksmanship contest. He didn’t much care. He just sat at the window and watched.

  Then he saw her. It hurt. Unconsciously he rubbed a hand over his heart, where the ache centered. She laughed. He could hear the sound float right up to him and shimmer like water over his skin. The wanting, the pure strength of it, made him drag his eyes away. For survival.

  But he looked back, unable to stop himself. She stepped out of the wagon and laughed again as Liza Cody ran out of her father’s store. She twirled in a circle for Liza, and he saw all of her, the white skin of her throat, the hint of high, round breasts, the tiny waist, the glow in her eyes. The cigarette burned down to his fingers, and he cursed. But he didn’t stop looking. “You going to sit in the window all day or take me down like you promised?” Maggie came farther into the room, her hands on her hips. The boy hadn’t heard a word. She tugged on his shoulder, ignored the name he called her and repeated herself.

  “I never promised to do anything.”

  “You promised, all right, the night I poured you into that bed when you came in so drunk you couldn’t stand.”

  He remembered the night clearly enough. It had been a week after he’d brought Sarah back from the mountains. A week since he’d been going to the Silver Star, trying to work up enough interest to take Carlotta or any other woman to bed. Drinking had been simpler, but getting blind drunk was something he’d never done before and didn’t intend to do again.

  “I could have gotten myself into bed well enough.”

  “You couldn’t even crawl up the stairs. If there’s one thing I know, it’s a man who’s too drunk to think. Now, are you going to take me down or are you going to bac
k down?”

  He grumbled but pushed himself away from the window. “Nothing worse than a nagging woman.”

  She only grinned and handed him his hat.

  They had no more than stepped outside when John Cody came racing up. “Mr. Redman. Mr. Redman.

  I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Yeah?” He pulled the boy’s hat over his face.

  “Why’s that?”

  Delighted with the attention, Johnny grinned. “The contest. My pa’s having a contest. Best shooting gets a brand-new saddle blanket. A red one. You’re going to win, ain’t you?”

  “I wasn’t figuring on it.”

  “How come? Nobody shoots better’n you. It’s a real nice blanket, too.”

  “Go on, Jake.” Maggie gave him a slap on the arm.

  “The boy’s counting on you.”

  “I don’t shoot for sport.” He meant to walk on, but he saw Johnny’s face fall. “A red blanket?”

  The boy’s eyes lit instantly. “Yessiree, about the prettiest one I ever seen.”

  “I guess we could look.” Before the sentence was complete, Johnny had him by the hand and was pulling him across the street.

  At the back of the store Cody had set up empty bottles and cans of varying sizes. Each contestant stood behind a line drawn in the dirt and took his best six shots. Broken glass littered the ground already. “It costs two bits to enter,” Johnny told him. “I got a short bit if you need it.”

  Jake looked at the dime the boy offered. The gesture touched him in a way that only those who had been offered very little through life would have understood. “Thanks, but I think I got two bits.”

  “You can shoot better than Jim Carlson. He’s winning now.” Johnny glanced over to where Jim was showing off a fancy railman’s spin with his shiny new Smith amp; Wesson.44. “Can you do that?”

  “Why? It doesn’t help you shoot any better.” He flipped a quarter to Johnny. “Why don’t you go put my name down?”

  “Yessir. Yessiree.” He took time out to have a friendly shoving match with another boy, then raced away.

  “Going to shoot for the blanket?” Lucius asked from behind him.

  “Thinking about it.” But he was watching Jim

  Carlson. He remembered that Jim rode a big white gelding. Jake had seen the gleam of a white horse riding away the night Sarah’s shed had burned.

  Lucius tipped his hat to Maggie. “Ma’am.”

  “That you, Lucius? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you with that beard shaved.”

  He colored up and stepped away. “I guess a man can shave now and then without a body gawking at him.”

  “I forgot you had a face under there,” Jake commented as he watched Will Metcalf hit four out of six bottles. “You looking for a new red blanket, too?” “Nope. Just thought I’d come around and tell you Hurt Donley rode into town.”

  Only his eyes changed. “Is that so? I thought he was in Laramie.”

  “Not anymore. He came this way while you were in New Mexico. Started working for Carlson.”

  In an easy move, Jake turned and scanned the area behind him. “Donley doesn’t punch cattle.”

  “Hasn’t been known to. Could be Carlson hired him to do something else.”

  “Could be,” Jake murmured, watching Donley walk toward the crowd.

  He was a big man, burly at the shoulders, thick at the waist. He wore his graying hair long, so long it merged with his beard. And he was fast. Jake had good reason to know just how fast. If the law hadn’t stepped in two years before, one of them would be dead now. “Heard you had some trouble a while back.”

  “Some.” Through the crowd, Jake’s eyes met Donley’s.

  They didn’t need words. There was unfinished business between them.

  As she stood beside Liza, Sarah watched Jake. And shivered. Something had come into his eyes. Something cold and deadly and inevitable. Then the crowd roared when the next contestant shattered all six bottles. “Oh, look.” Liza gave Sarah a quick shake.

  “Jake’s going to shoot. I know it’s wrong, but I’ve always wanted to see how he does it. You hear such stories. There was one-” Her mouth fell open when he drew his right hand and fired.

  “I didn’t even see him take it out,” she whispered.

  “It was just in his hand, quick as a blink.”

  “He hit them all.” Sarah wrapped her shawl tighter around her. He had hardly moved. His gun was still smoking when he slid it back in place.

  Donley strode over, flipped a quarter and waited until more targets were set. Sarah watched his big hand curl over the butt of his gun. Then he drew and fired.

  “Goodness. He hit all of them, too. That leaves Dave Jeffrey, Jim Carlson, Jake and Burt Donley.” “Who is he?” she asked, wondering why Jake looked like he wanted to kill him. “The big man in the leather vest.”

  “Donley? He works for Samuel Carlson. I’ve heard talk about him, too. The same kind of talk as you hear about Jake. Only…”

  “Only?”

  “Well, you know how I told you Johnny’s been tagging after Jake, pestering him and talking his ear off? I can’t say it worries me any. But if he got within ten feet of Burt Donley I’d skin him alive.”

  The crowd shifted as Cody brought the line back five feet. When the first man aimed and fired, missing two bottles, Sarah saw Johnny tug on Jake’s arm and whisper something. To her surprise, Jake grinned and ruffled the boy’s hair. There it was again, she thought. That goodness. That basic kindness. Yet she remembered the look that had come into his eyes only moments before.

  Who are you? she wanted to ask.

  As if he’d heard her, Jake turned his head. Their eyes met and held. She felt a flood of emotions rise up uncontrollably and again wished she could hate him for that alone.

  “You keep looking at her like that,” Maggie murmured at his side, “you’re going to have to marry her or ride fast in the other direction.”

  “Shut up, Maggie.”

  She smiled as sweetly as if he’d kissed her cheek. “Just thought you’d like to know that Sam Carlson ain’t too pleased by the way you two are carrying on.” Jake’s gaze shifted and met Carlson’s. He had come up to stand behind Sarah and lay a proprietary hand on her shoulder. Jake considered allowing himself the pleasure of shooting him for that alone. “He’s got no claim.”

  “Not for lack of trying. Better move fast, boyo.” The onlookers cheered again as Jim Carlson nipped five out of six targets.

  Taking his time, Jake reloaded his pistol, then moved to the line. The six shots sounded almost like one. When he lowered his Colt, six bottles had been shattered.

  Donley took his place. Six shots, six hits.

  The line was moved farther back.

  “They can’t do it from here,” Liza whispered to Sarah. “No one could.”

  Sarah just shook her head. It wasn’t a game any more. There was something between the two men, something much deeper, much darker, than a simple contest of skill. Others sensed it, too. She could hear the murmur of the crowd and see the uneasy looks. Jake moved behind the line. He scanned the targets, judging the distance, taking mental aim. Then he did what he did best. He drew and fired on instinct. Bottles exploded, one by one. There was nothing left but a single jagged base. Without pausing, he drew his other gun and shattered even that.

  There was silence as Donley stepped forward. He drew, and the gun kicked in his hand with each shot. When he was done, a single bottle remained unbroken. “Congratulations, Redman.” Cody brought the blanket over, hoping to dispel some of the tension. Relief made him let out his breath audibly when Sheriff Barker strolled over.

  “That was some shooting, boys.” He gave each man a casual nod. Will Metcalf stood at his shoulder as directed. “Good to get it out of your system with a few bottles. Either one of you catches a bullet tonight, there’s sure no way I can doubt who put it there.”

  The warning was given with a smile that was friendly enough. Behind Sara
h, Carlson gave a quick shake of his head. Without speaking, Donley made his way through the crowd, which parted for him.

  “I ain’t never seen nobody shoot like that.” Johnny looked up at Jake with awe and wonder in his eyes. Jake tossed the blanket to him. “There you go.”

  His eyes widened even farther. “I can have it?”

  “You got a horse, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir, I got me a bay pony.”

  “Red ought to look real nice on a bay. Why don’t you go see?”

  With a whoop, Johnny raced off, only to be caught by his mother. After a minor scuffle, he turned back, grinning. “Thanks, Mr. Redman. Thanks a lot.”

  “You sure did please that boy pink,” Barker commented.

  “I don’t need a blanket.”

  Barker only shook his head. “You’re a puzzle, Jake. I can’t help but have a liking for you.”

  “That’s a puzzle to me, Sheriff. Most lawmen got other feelings.”

  “Maybe so. Either way, I’d be obliged if you’d keep those guns bolstered tonight. You wouldn’t want to tell me what there is between you and Donley?” Jake sent him an even look. “No.”

  “Didn’t figure you would.” He spit out tobacco juice. “Well, I’m going to have me some chicken and dance with my wife.”

  There were a dozen tables lined up along one side of the big canvas tent. Even before the music started, more than half of the food was gone. Women, young and old, were flirting, pleased to be shown off in their best dresses. When the fiddle started, couples swarmed onto the floor. Liza, in her pink muslin, grabbed Will’s hand and pulled him with her. Carlson, dashing in his light brown suit and string tie, bowed to Sarah. “I’d be honored if you’d step out with me, Sarah.”

  With a little laugh, she gave him a formal curtsy.

  “I’d be delighted.”

  The music was fast and cheerful. Despite the heat, the dancing followed suit. At the front of the tent the musicians fiddled and plucked and strummed tirelessly, and the caller wet his whistle with free beer.

  Couples swung and sashayed and kicked up their heels in a reel. It was different from the dances Sarah had attended in Philadelphia. Wonderfully different, she thought as she twirled in Lucius’s arms. Hoots and hollers accompanied the music, as well as hand-clapping, foot-stamping and whistles.