Under a Texas Star

by Alison Bruce

  Marly gasped. "But…who…where?"

  "Locke. At The Oasis."

  Trembling with excitement, she rummaged through the desk and unwrapped the other butts they'd found earlier. Comparing them, she said, "The bite marks match."

  "I figured they would."

  "We've got the killer, don't we?"

  "All we know for sure is Locke was there. Can't hang a man on the evidence of a few cigar stubs, especially when he has no compellin' motive for murder."

  "Still," she said, "it looks like we got the weapon. Now we need to gather proof and find out who aimed Locke at Strothers."

  The next morning, Marly decided to do the patrol on her own.

  "Can I wear my gun belt now that I'm deputy?"

  "Not around town," Jase replied. "Not yet. Keep the rifle with you when you're out and about. Oh, and as deputy, no stall muckin'."

  "No stall muckin'," she drawled. "How 'bout workin' at The Oasis?"

  "Part-time, only after the weekend. And only so Fred will stop you from talkin' with my drawl all the time."

  She laughed, then pulled the brim of her hat down low. "I reckon Fred will oblige."

  At the livery, Marly broke the news to Hank.

  "I understand," he said, though he sounded disappointed.

  Sloan, his boss, gave her a hearty slap across the shoulders. "I like you, boy. You're a hard worker. A bit scrawny, but a scrapper. There'll always be a job for you here if you want one."

  "Thank you, sir."

  As soon as Sloan and Hank were out of sight, she flexed her shoulders painfully. As big as Hank was, his employer dwarfed him. She was only thankful that the two behemoths counted amongst her friends, not her many enemies.

  Jase's instructions had been minimal. He expected her to walk three circuits of the town, taking a different route each time. It was up to her how to space the patrols through the morning. Between patrols, he expected her to keep an eye on Main Street.

  Unsure what else to do, she took a seat on the bench outside the general store. She had an excellent view of the bank across the street.

  Mick Riley tipped his hat to her.

  She tugged her brim in response.

  Sitting and waiting didn't come naturally to Marly. To keep busy, she pulled out a knife and whetstone. There are few things more useful than a good knife. That was probably the only reason her Aunt Adele had let her keep this one memento of her time with Sarge. He had given it to her the first night he'd rescued her. To make her feel safe, he'd said.

  "That's a Bowie knife, isn't it?"

  Marly raised her head. "Miss Amabelle."

  "So is it?"

  "What?"

  Amabelle gritted her teeth. "A Bowie knife?"

  "Yup."

  The laconic reply didn't daunt the young lady.

  "How's the investigation coming along?"

  "You should ask the marshal. He's in charge of the investigation."

  "And here I got the impression you knew everything."

  "Nope, not everything."

  Amabelle gave a huff of disgust.

  Marly's lips twitched with a suppressed grin. She'd had her fair share of snubs from girls like Amabelle Egan. Dressed as a boy, she realized it was whole lot easier dealing with Amabelle's sort. And she wouldn't get in trouble for hair pulling.

  She glanced up, expecting to see frustration on Amabelle's face. She saw fear instead.

  A tall, plain-faced man was making a beeline for them. Marly recognized him as Gabriel Baker, though they had not been introduced.

  Out of respect for her elders, she stood.

  "It's not proper to talk to strangers, Amabelle," Baker said.

  "Oh, Mr. Landers isn't a stranger, Gabe. He's the marshal's deputy."

  "More reason not to speak to him. Come with me." He offered Amabelle his arm. "I'll help you find your brother."

  "No need," a deep voice announced from the doorway. "How do, Gabe? I didn't know you'd be in town today."

  Marly hadn't noticed Amabelle's brother before. Now, she wasn't sure how she could have missed him.

  About as tall as Jase, yet not as tall as Baker, Matthew Egan had his sister's coloring and was as handsome and muscular as Amabelle was pretty and petite. He wasn't as slick a dresser as the banker, but Marly knew enough about quality to recognize it in his coal-black suit and pristine white shirt. She felt very small and scruffy in comparison.

  "I wanted to check on the boys," Baker explained. "Perhaps you and Miss Amabelle would join me for lunch?"

  "With pleasure," Egan said. "Aunt June is also with us."

  "She is most welcome, of course."

  "Good. Then we'll meet you at the hotel in an hour?"

  Having been politely dismissed, Baker was forced to move on.

  Amabelle let out a tiny sigh of relief.

  Marly could hardly blame her. It was obvious that Baker had a proprietary interest in her. Equally obvious was the fact that far from returning his affections Amabelle was intimidated by him.

  Egan watched his business partner cross the street and enter the Stage, Post and Telegraph Office. Then he turned and a troubled expression flickered across his features before he put on his company face.

  "So you're Marly Landers," he stated.

  "Yes, sir."

  They took a moment to size each other up.

  "Amabelle," he said, "go help your aunt with the shopping."

  "But―"

  "Go on. I'll be along soon."

  Reluctantly, Amabelle walked past her brother and into the store, casting a wistful glance over her shoulder

  Marly turned the Bowie over in her hand, unsure what to do with it. Was it impolite to hold a knife when talking to a murder suspect? She wished Jase were with her, but settled for affecting his mannerisms.

  "What can I do for you, Mr. Egan?"

  "Sit down, son."

  "I'm fine standing." She waved the knife in the direction of the bench. "You go ahead."

  He didn't sit, so she leaned against a post in order to look him in the eye without developing a crick in her neck. To alleviate her nerves, she cleaned her nails with the blade.

  "You're not making this easy," Egan said, folding his arms and giving her a stern gaze.

  "Making what easy?"

  "I wanted to apologize for what my boys did. What they tried to do. Believe me, there was hell to pay when I heard about it. They won't bother you again."

  Marly looked up from her task and pushed back her hat, displaying the shiner. She knew Egan's men had worse.

  "No, sir. I don't suppose they will."

  She flipped the Bowie, caught it by the hilt and sheathed it.

  Egan sat down, taking in the black eye and what she hoped came across as indifference to getting in a fight. He smiled, making him twice as handsome and half as intimidating.

  "I'm beginning to see what Amabelle sees in you, Mr. Landers. I don't suppose you'd like to come work for me, would you?"

  "No, sir." She thumbed her badge. "I already got a job."

  Egan nodded, his smile broadening. "Didn't think so. Are you figuring to become a Ranger?"

  She stifled a snort. "Don't know that they'd have me. But it's an honorable profession."

  "So I understand, Mr. Landers. In fact, I'm hoping you and Marshal Strachan decide to stay in Fortuna."

  "Don't think it's likely. We've only stayed this long because of the murder. Once that's solved, we've got other business in El Paso."

  "And afterwards?"

  She shrugged, suspecting Fortuna was one place she'd never return to. But there was no reason to tell that to Egan.

  "Think about it," he advised, rising. "I'm hosting a community dance next week. I count on seeing you there, Mr. Landers. I'll make sure that you and the marshal receive personal invitations."

  This announcement surprised Marly so much that she didn't have a chance to respond before Egan disappeared into the store.

  It surprised Jase even more when she told h
im about it later.

  "I heard about the dance," he said. "I figured we'd be personas non grata."

  After lunch, it was Marly's turn to mind the office. Jase gave her a list of chores to do, which she spaced out between periods of reading. A few people poked their heads in, but most left once they saw the marshal wasn't there.

  She was sweeping when Jase returned from his patrol of the town, his face pinched with suppressed emotion.

  "What is it?" she asked, worried.

  He let out a gust of laughter, then shook his head. "I do believe, Marly Landers, that in a couple of years when you're both ready for it, Mr. Egan would look favorably on you marryin' his sister."

  "I thought I was too young and not near rich enough."

  "I suppose Mr. Egan sees the potential in you."

  He threw his hat on the desk and sat down, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

  Scowling at him, she dropped into the other chair. "I don't see what's so funny."

  "You don't, Miss Landers?"

  Marly let out a hiss of air. Damn.

  She had come to the working theory that Jase must have realized she was a girl by now. If nothing else, his reaction when she came in with a black eye seemed to bear it out. He wouldn't have been so shaken if he believed she was a boy. But she'd doubted he'd bring it up.

  And she certainly wouldn't. Until now.

  "Have you known all along?"

  "No," he said. "If I had known back in Dog Flats or in Fort Worth when I first saw you, I would have sent you back to your aunt's."

  "Good thing you didn't know then. It would've only made things more difficult. See, I really can't go back. I told you, she kicked me out."

  "Your aunt kicked you out." His tone was skeptical.

  "She sent me away. I just didn't go where she sent me." She gave a bitter laugh. "She was sending me to a convent school, for heaven's sake. Can you imagine?"

  His expression was a mix of amusement and something close to fury. Was he angry on her behalf?

  "You know," she said, trying to make light, "except for letting you think I was a boy―or trying to―I've never lied to you."

  "I know."

  She knew he had a dozen questions. She only had one.

  "Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

  "For better or worse, I thought it was safer for both of us if I pretended you were a boy. It wasn't proper. It's too late to change the past. Both our reputations as decent folk depend on keepin' up the deception."

  "I know."

  He got up and checked the coffee pot. It was about half full and didn't smell burnt, so he poured them each a cup. Setting his on the desk, he crouched beside her chair and held out her cup as if it were a peace offering.

  "I apologize if you think I should have told you earlier," he said. "I certainly never wanted to breach your trust."

  "I trust you." She took the cup, half sorry, half relieved that he didn't feel it necessary to make an honest woman of her.

  "I'm glad." He rocked back on his heels and stood. "It might have been wrong and it was definitely unwise, but I'm not sorry I did it, 'cause I'm not sorry you're here."

  Marly managed a small smile. Neither am I.

  Chapter 10

  Whatever hopes Marly harbored, come sunrise it was as if the disclosure never happened. Jase checked behind her ears and under her fingernails, treating her like a scrubby schoolboy. Fred had come by to give the marshal a shave and trim before church, so she knew Jase's actions were partly for show.

  "I am sure Master Landers is well scrubbed, sir," Fred said.

  "He's clean enough, but that braid is messy. Maybe you should give the boy a haircut, Fred."

  Marly backed up into the door. She had considered chopping off her hair as part of her disguise, but it was her one vanity. According to Aunt Adele, her hair was just like her mother's, except the color had been inherited from her father.

  "No time," Fred said, packing his kit. "You need to get to church and I need to get back to Miss Jezebel."

  "We'll see you in church?" Marly asked.

  "No, Master Landers. Miss Jezebel went to church once, when it first opened. Her presence was," his lips twitched, "controversial. The minister was gracious, however. He is giving a brief service in the rose garden, even as we speak. Miss Jezebel and several of the ladies are in attendance."

  "And you?"

  "I take care of my spiritual needs on my own."

  "Sounds good to me."

  Jase shook his head. "We need to be at church, to see and be seen."

  Fred bowed and disappeared.

  "Come here, brat," Jase said. "I'll fix that braid. I was only jokin' about the haircut."

  "And I was only joking about shooting you if you tried."

  "You never said that."

  "I was thinking it."

  Marly cautiously approached him and turned so he could work. His fingers combed her hair in gentle strokes as he unwound the braid. He smoothed her hair into three columns and gave each a twist as he braided them. Now and then, his knuckles would brush the back of her neck and it was all she could do not to lean into his touch.

  "That's better," he said, giving the finished tail a tug.

  Sorry that the experience was over―and sorrier still that Jase sounded so matter-of-fact about it―Marly grunted her thanks and went to get her hat. If they were going to keep up the pretense that she was a boy, it was better that he didn't see the effect his touch had on her.

  After services, many of the congregation set out blankets on the grounds of the church and ate box lunches. This was a popular choice of venue for families with young children or young people courting. Those who could afford to eat out and were more concerned with comfort went to the hotel. Marly had heard about the establishment's food and was glad that Jase's sense of duty didn't extend to having breakfast there.

  They headed for The Oasis where, in deference to the day, Jezebel's portrait was draped and the casino was closed for the morning.

  Standing in the doorway, Marly had just taken these details in when Matt Egan approached.

  "Would you do me the honor of being my guests for breakfast?" he asked.

  Marly glanced over her shoulder and saw that Amabelle and an older lady were picnicking with the minister and his wife on the grass.

  "Amabelle and I come here sometimes," Egan said, ushering them ahead. "But Aunt June has a stricter notion of propriety." He waved at someone. "Gabe! Come and join us."

  Great, Marly thought as Gabriel Baker headed for their table.

  "Hope, you don't mind, Marshal," Egan said in an undertone. "I know you two didn't make a good start, but Gabe's a good man and a good friend."

  Baker agreed to sit with them only because Egan didn't give him any chance to refuse. But he didn't appear too happy.

  "Marsha Strachan is a welcome addition to the town," Egan said in a carrying voice. "This town needs a little law and order."

  He re-issued his invitation for Jase and Marly to attend his community social, letting everyone in the room know that he, for one, was not giving them the cold shoulder.

  Marly ate as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more than to leave the men to their business association meeting. Jase didn't seem in a hurry.

  A waiter appeared with shots of brandy and the cigars.

  "I'm going to do my patrol," she said, gulping back the last swig of coffee.

  Outside The Oasis, Marly noticed that Amabelle and many of the other young people had escaped their elders. They were now congregated on the boardwalk outside the hotel, gossiping. They didn't pay Marly much attention.

  But Amabelle did.

  "Come on over, Deputy Landers."

  With a heavy sigh, Marly obeyed.

  "This is my dear friend Kate O'Brian," Amabelle said.

  Where Amabelle was blonde and delicately pretty, Kate was an auburn-haired, buxom beauty.

  From her local research, Marly knew that the O'Brian family owned the Circ
le-X, a breed ranch. Their chief concern was horses, which the family trade brought with them from Ireland, but they also bred cattle, pigs, and dogs.

  Marly's introduction interrupted an argument between Kate's older brother Shea and Bob Johnstone, heir to the Slashed Bars Ranch. The two young men paused long enough to give her a polite howdy-do, then ignored her.

  "I must leave now," she said. "To do my rounds."

  "I surely would like to go on patrol with you, Deputy Landers," Amabelle simpered.

  Shea's head jerked up. "Now you don't want to go do that, Miss Amabelle. I'm much better company."

  Marly felt a little sorry for him when the lady ignored him.

  "You should offer a lady your arm," Amabelle said coyly, as she matched Marly's pace.

  "Can't, Miss, I'm on duty."

  It was all Marly could do not to laugh at the girl.

  "Marshal Strothers always offered me his arm," Amabelle countered, "and he was always on duty."

  "I carry a rifle. It's not practical. Besides, I'm not Marshal Strothers."

  This point was unarguable, even for an Egan.

  They walked in silence, Marly intentionally changing pace from time to time, trying to shake Amabelle off. The last thing she needed was the town belle throwing herself at her. Eventually, Amabelle tried flirting again. Then, when that didn't work, she limited herself to impatient huffs and mumbled insults.

  Marly spotted Gabriel Baker and closed ranks.

  "Miss Amabelle, well met. I was hoping to see you."

  Baker tone was warm, his smile broad.

  Marly didn't buy it for an instant. It was a forced smile, pasted on to charm and manipulate. His eyes were still cold and angry.

  "You shouldn't bother Deputy Landers while he's working, my dear. Let me take you back to your aunt. I believe I saw her in the church garden. We can take a stroll by the schoolhouse, see how construction is coming along." He offered Amabelle his arm.

  There was nothing overtly threatening about the gesture, yet Amabelle shrunk back.

  Marly shifted her rifle so she could take Amabelle's arm.

  "That's mighty kind of you, Mr. Baker," she said, adopting her Jase-like drawl and laying it on a little thick out of nerves. "Happens I already offered to accompany Miz Egan to the hotel to join her friends. Thank you all the same."