The Lady and the Texan

by Bobbi Smith

  “Whiskey, straight, and leave the bottle,” he ordered as he strode up to the bar.

  “You sure?” the barkeep asked, puzzled by his change in behavior. For days now, he’d been in the saloon and had not had any liquor to drink.

  “What did I say?” Jack snarled as he turned a deadly gaze upon the barkeep.

  “Just thought it was strange, that’s all. You didn’t touch anything yesterday, and now you’re drinking today, and early, too.”

  “Don’t worry about what I do or when I do it. Just give me the damned bottle,” Jack countered sharply.

  The bartender set the liquor before him, and Jack paid him. He then took the bottle and glass and headed for a deserted table in the back. He wanted to get as far away as he could get from everything and everybody.

  Jack uncorked the bottle and splashed a healthy portion in the tumbler. He stared at it for a minute as he remembered Dan’s words to him. I’m entrusting my daughter to your care. I want to know that I can count on you to stay sober while you’re with her. . . .

  While you’re with her . . . The words repeated in his mind and made Jack smile. Amanda damned sure wasn’t in the bar with him right now, so he wasn’t breaking his word to Dan.

  Jack tossed down the whiskey. It burned, but he enjoyed the sensation. Soon, he would be able to forget everything. Soon, he could lose himself—if only for a little while.

  He thought of Amanda and Eileen in the cabin and was glad that he’d told them to stay where they were. He would have just one more drink, then go up to his own cabin and sleep for a while. By the time he had to take them to dinner, he’d be back in control. For right now, though, he was going to allow himself a little peace.

  Chapter Six

  Hours passed, and Amanda and Eileen realized it was getting late. They hadn’t heard anything from Jack since he’d left in such a strange mood that morning. Dinner was already being served, yet they had had no word from him at all.

  “You don’t suppose something has happened to him, do you?” Eileen asked. “He hasn’t been back to his cabin all day, and it isn’t like him to say he’s going to do something and then not do it. He is a man of his word.”

  They shared a puzzled look, trying to think of where he could have gone.

  “I’ll go see if I can find him. You wait here just in case he shows up,” Amanda told Eileen.

  “Are you sure you want to go up on deck alone? It’s getting dark out.”

  “I’ll be fine. Jennings is locked up, so there’s really nothing to worry about. All I have to do is find out what happened to Jack. He probably got involved in a big poker game and forgot the time.”

  Amanda left the cabin, not quite sure where to begin her search. She figured her first instinct was her best and made her way toward the men’s saloon. As she neared the door, a steward came out and she stopped him.

  “Excuse me, have you seen Mr. Logan? Is he in the saloon?”

  “Yes, ma’am, he is. Would you like me to get him for you?”

  “Please. I’ll wait out on deck.”

  Amanda went outside to stand at the rail to wait. When Jack didn’t come out right away, she began to grow uncomfortable and she wondered where he was. She had just started back inside when he emerged and came toward her.

  “Why, if it isn’t little Miss Amanda Taylor, standing out here in the moonlight,” he said in a low voice as he stared at her.

  “You’ve been drinking!”

  “Yes, I have, but I still haven’t had enough.” His words were slurred as he crossed the distance between them.

  “You’re disgusting!”

  “Are you wishing you had your axe right now?” He gave a drunken laugh.

  “Oh, you—”

  She started to walk away, to go back to her cabin, but he caught her by the wrist and stopped her. Jack stared down into the pale, beautiful face that had haunted him all day and saw the shadow of the bruise on her cheek. Every time he’d attempted to push the whiskey away from him, an image of her had floated before him, taunting him with her determination to be independent, yet teasing him with her vulnerability. And then there had been the moment with the knife. . . .

  “I don’t understand why you want to be so much like a man. As lovely as you are, you could have all the men in the world at your feet, trying to please you . . . begging for your favors.”

  “I want to be strong so I don’t have to put up with men like you!” she snapped, trying to twist free of his grip.

  Her defiance sparked something in Jack.

  “You should be more feminine,” he murmured, his gaze darkening as it settled on her mouth. Then, without thought, he drew her close.

  Amanda knew she should fight him. She should try to get away, to resist him, but she hesitated. In that moment Jack sought her lips in a tender caress.

  Amanda went still as his lips moved over hers. She was frightened, yet strangely breathless. Jack’s kiss was a sensation unlike anything she’d ever known before. It was gentle, yet powerful. Demanding, yet tantalizing.

  He pulled her closer to him, and she seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. And then he deepened the embrace, parting her lips to taste of her sweetness.

  But at his bold invasion, Amanda tasted the whiskey he’d been drinking all day, and the power of it jarred her back to reality. This was Jack Logan! With all her might, she shoved against his chest. Jack was caught unaware by her sudden move and let her go.

  She found herself free and glared up at him, her arms akimbo. “You’re a horrible, terrible man!”

  He grinned down at her. He thought she’d never looked prettier. “I’ve been called worse,” he said.

  “I’m sure you have!” she countered. “And you taste like whiskey!” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  His grin grew lopsided. “And you, my dear, are one stubborn, hard-headed female. I feel sorry for your poor father. I don’t know how he’s going to handle you once I get you back to him. I wish him luck, because he’s going to need it!”

  “We can’t get to San Rafael soon enough to suit me!”

  “My sentiments exactly. It will be a pleasure to be rid of you,” he drawled, watching her as she stormed off. Then, thinking better of letting her go alone, he followed her at a safe distance, wanting to make sure she reached her cabin without incident.

  Amanda was still angry as she entered the stateroom.

  “Did you find Jack?” Eileen asked, looking up from where she was sitting.

  “Oh, I found him all right,” she snapped.

  “I can tell,” the older woman said. “You must have had a wonderful visit.”

  Her sarcasm was not lost on Amanda, and she found herself smiling at Eileen.

  “Wonderful doesn’t even come close to describing it,” she began. ‘‘To begin with, he’d been in the bar and he was drunk!”

  “Jack had been drinking?” The news surprised her.

  “All day, from the look of him.”

  “I wonder why?” Eileen murmured.

  “Why? Who knows why men drink? The point is, he was drunk and it was disgusting.”

  Eileen gave a motherly cluck of her tongue. “Now, Amanda, darling, you know that I appreciate your involvement with the suffragists, and I certainly understand some of the complaints of the temperance marchers. But sometimes things go on in life that you aren’t aware of—things that might make a person turn to drink. Don’t you remember how strangely Jack acted before he left us this morning? One minute, you were having a nice conversation and the next he’d walked out.”

  “You’re right. So you think something that was said this morning upset him?”

  “I’d bet on it—if I were a betting woman.”

  “I wonder what it was? I know he was angry about letting me have a gun, but I thought that was just the usual male reaction to my wanting to take care of myself.”

  “It could have been that or something entirely different.”

  “How do we find out?�
��

  “I guess we don’t until he tells us the reason, or someone else does. But remember, Amanda, one day or night of drinking does not make a man a drunk. Jack is certainly no Micah Jennings,” she said in his defense.

  “I suppose,” Amanda grudgingly agreed, for it was true that there had been no violence in Jack tonight. She remembered how he’d come toward her, how he’d taken her in his arms. For a moment, she’d actually wanted to be in his embrace. She frowned, angered by the memory of her reaction to his touch. It wasn’t violence that she’d had to fear from him, but the attraction she’d felt when he’d kissed her.

  “You know, for all that you had this ‘wonderful’ encounter with Jack, did you remember to ask him about our dinner?”

  Eileen’s question interrupted Amanda’s thoughts, and she was glad.

  “No. I got so mad at him that I forgot. . . .”

  Even as they spoke, a knock came at the door, and a waiter announced he had brought them dinner by order of Mr. Logan in the next cabin.

  Eileen smiled at Amanda as she went to open the door. “At least Jack wasn’t so drunk that he forgot we would be hungry. I told you he was a gentleman.”

  Amanda said nothing, but she was glad to have some dinner. Later, after they’d eaten, she went into her room to get ready for bed. As she stared at herself in the small mirror, Amanda wondered why Jack had said she needed to be more feminine. He’d said she was pretty—wasn’t that enough? And he’d certainly had no compunction about kissing her. If he’d thought her less than a desirable female, why had he kissed her?

  As she thought about it, Amanda grew irritated and defensive. She was certainly feminine enough! She wore the latest gowns and always styled her hair fashionably. But as she thought about it, it occurred to her that she had never had a real beau. She’d had male friends, but there had never been a man who’d sought her hand in marriage. Doubts stung her, and she grew even more annoyed.

  Amanda climbed into bed, wondering where Jack was and if he would remember anything about their encounter the next morning. It was going to be interesting to see how he reacted to seeing her again. That thought made her smile.

  She slept well that night.

  And so did Jack—once he made it back to his cabin. He’d made sure Amanda reached her stateroom safely before he’d returned to the dining room to order dinner for the women. That done, he’d stopped by the bar again to retrieve what was left of his bottle of whiskey. Bottle in hand, he’d made his way slowly back to his room, more than ready to stretch out and get some much-needed rest. He lay down without bothering to undress, and after taking a few more swigs of the potent brew, he drifted off. His last thought as he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep was of a pale, dark-haired beauty whose kiss had stirred him more than he cared to admit.

  Morning came with a vengeance as he stirred and came awake with the worst headache he could ever remember. He groaned out loud and rolled onto his side. It hurt even to open his eyes, but he did, just so he could look for his bottle and drown his pain in another blissful, liquor-induced haze. And then he remembered Amanda and Eileen, and he forced himself to sit up and face the new day.

  The bottle he’d sought lay on the floor, empty. He’d done it justice, and he was glad the temptation of another drink wasn’t right there before him. He stood up and made his way to look out his porthole. The light hurt his eyes, and he was sorry he’d made the effort. The sun was well up in the sky, and he knew it was time to see about the ladies’ breakfast. Every movement was agony for him as he groped toward the washstand and tried to clean himself up. It had obviously been a long, hard night, though he remembered little of it.

  Jack splashed water on his face, and the jolt of the cold water sobered him even more. He shivered and stared at himself bleary-eyed in the mirror. It wasn’t a pretty sight—his eyes were red-rimmed and his color sallow. He growled at his own reflection as he picked up the razor and began contemplating just where to start. The unsteadiness of his hand gave him some pause, but he forged ahead.

  It was just as he finished shaving that the fleeting memory of being on deck with Amanda in the moonlight returned to him. He tried to recall exactly what had happened between them, but his recollection was hazy. He definitely remembered that she had been angry with him for drinking and he’d taunted her about wishing she’d had her axe. Other parts of their conversation played in his thoughts, and then the remembrance of her in his arms, pressed against him, kissing him.

  Jack frowned at nothing in particular as he wondered if that was a true memory or part of some wild dream he’d had while he was sleeping. He couldn’t quite separate fact from fantasy, but he hesitated to believe that she really had responded to him as it seemed she had in his memory. He finished washing up and changed into clean clothes. He was as ready as he was ever going to be to face the world today, so he left his cabin to stop by Amanda’s stateroom and see what the ladies wanted for breakfast.

  “Good morning, Jack,” Eileen greeted him as she answered the door. “Amanda, Jack’s here.”

  “I came to see what you wanted to do about breakfast,” he said, speaking softly. The less noise, the better it was for his throbbing head.

  “I think we’re feeling well enough to go to the dining room with you,” Eileen told him.

  “Why, Jack . . . You’re not looking as if you feel too well this morning,” Amanda said brightly as she came to join them. “Perhaps we should be bringing you breakfast in your stateroom this morning.” His distress pleased her, and though she knew it was wrong to take pleasure in another’s suffering, she believed this couldn’t have happened to a more deserving man.

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “What’s wrong? A little too much whiskey last night, or are you feeling like Eileen did on the first day of the trip? Is your stomach churning from seasickness?”

  Jack hadn’t even thought about his stomach until she mentioned it, and now he realized that the thought of eating wasn’t particularly appealing. He looked at Amanda, read her expression and knew she was enjoying every minute of his discomfort. Any doubts he’d had about whether the kiss between them had really happened or not were answered—it had. Why else would she be so happy that he was suffering?

  “There’s nothing wrong with Jack that a good cup of coffee won’t cure,” Eileen said, coming to his defense. “Shall we go? I’m starving.”

  “Of course,” Amanda quickly agreed. “And I’m looking forward to a big breakfast today. I think eggs and toast and bacon sound wonderful.”

  Jack swallowed tightly and his stomach rebelled at the thought of such heavy food as he escorted them from the room.

  The dining room was full of people, and the noise level was high. Everyone seemed intent on talking this morning, though Jack could not for the life of him figure out why. He ordered a full meal for the ladies, but only coffee for himself.

  Amanda smiled when he did, and then, when a waiter passing behind them accidentally dropped his tray, sending everything crashing to the floor, she was hard pressed not to laugh out loud at the pained look on Jack’s face.

  “So you had a rough night, did you?” Eileen finally asked, seeing his misery.

  Jack glanced at Amanda, but her expression revealed nothing. “I’m having a rougher morning,” he answered with a pained smile that more closely resembled a grimace.

  “It’ll pass. Most things do,” Eileen said, trying to be encouraging.

  “Not fast enough,” he growled.

  “I understand completely,” she said sympathetically. “My father often drank more than his share of a bottle, so I know just what you’re feeling. After breakfast, why don’t you go to your room and lie down for a while? I’ll bet you’re more tired than anything right now. Amanda and I will be fine by ourselves, and we’ll plan on dining with you again tonight.”

  “That’s a tempting suggestion.”

  “Then go ahead and do it. We’ll see you later.” Jack excused himself from their company a
nd disappeared from the dining room.

  “He must have felt terrible last night,” Eileen said as she watched him go.

  “And worse this morning.”

  Eileen glanced at her companion to find Amanda smiling.

  Cody and Luke left his father, Charles, and his brother, Dan, watching over the Trinity ranch while they made the trip to San Antonio to pay a visit to the wounded Ranger. Jim’s recovery was slow, but he felt well enough to talk to them. He knew all about Cody Jameson’s reputation, and he also remembered how Luke had gone undercover for the Rangers to help bring down the El Diablo gang.

  “I know Steve and Jack think highly of you both. What can I help you with?”

  “We’re going after the Sheldons. What we need to know is how you caught them the first time. I remember hearing about it when you brought them in. I think everybody in West Texas felt like celebrating.”

  “All the Rangers did, too. We were after them for months.”

  “I know it was quite a feat putting them away. How did you do it?”

  Jim’s expression grew even more serious as he recalled the exhausting chase across the state. “A lot of hard riding, hard tracking, some praying and a little luck. Joe, Vic, Jack and me earned our pay on that one.”

  “Was there one particular piece of information that led you to them? Did they have any relatives around who helped them? What about any weaknesses? Liquor or women?” Cody began the litany of questions that would ultimately help her understand her prey. Once she understood them, she could anticipate their moves and catch them.

  “They’re the most savage bunch I’ve ever dealt with, and I’ve dealt with some scum in my time. The Sheldons didn’t like to leave any witnesses when they robbed a bank or stage, so they killed everybody.”

  “Nice guys.”

  Jim nodded slowly as he remembered the bloody havoc they’d wreaked on their unsuspecting victims. “It was hell. They moved hard and fast when we were on their trail. Hank is the smartest of the brothers, but if you’re looking for weaknesses, his was women. We finally got the clue we needed from a saloon girl. She’d been earning her keep and had heard them talking about their next job.”