The bartender yanked off his apron and headed toward the back of the saloon with a garbage can and the skinny girl trailed after him. A gust of cool air reached the saloon area when the bartender opened the back door.
“There ain’t no reason to be unsociable like,” the kid said, taking a sip of his beer. “Name’s Robert.” He introduced himself with and ear-to-ear smile. “You must be Gabriel Wallace. Heard you’re fast. Real fast.”
“I suggest you shut up and move on if you want to see your next birthday.”
“Bet you’re hoping to collect that reward for the James brothers, huh?”
Wallace dropped his arm to his side, his hand hovering over the gun as he stepped away from the bar and faced the youngster. “You’re pushing your luck, Robert.”
“Last name’s Younger,” he said. “Pull that gun and your brains are gonna be splattered all over the bar.” That was when Wallace felt the cold steel of a double-barrel shotgun shoved against the back of his neck.
“He’s right.” A deep voice came from behind Wallace. “This shotgun will take your head right off your shoulders.” Then the man said, “We got your message.”
Wallace swore as he realized he had let himself be distracted. But he had heard nothing. The man with the shotgun had to have come in from the back of the saloon. The card players quickly left the saloon, heading out into a night lit by an occasional fork of lightning. The last one out turned the Open sign to Closed as he left.
The bartender returned from the back of the saloon. This time he was smiling and carrying a strip of heavy twine. “Go ahead, Captain Cade,” the bartender said. “Shoot him if you want, right here and now. If I’d knowed he was the one who killed Molly, I’d shot him when he walked up to the bar.”
Wallace scowled as the former guerilla captain ordered him to put his hands on his head.
“Get his guns, Bob.”
With his hands on his head, Wallace considered his odds. The captain might have been a terror during the war, but he raised horses now and had a close association with Marshal Doss Hannon. The fact that Austin Cade was now law-abiding worked in his favor. A man with integrity never had the guts to do what was necessary.
Bob put his guns on the bar. They were not entirely out of reach.
“Turn around slowly,” the captain ordered and Wallace did as he was told. He looked past the short barrel of the shotgun into Cade’s deadly gray eyes, the color of the winter sky and just as cold. For the first time, apprehension crawled up Wallace’s spine. “You taking me to the sheriff?”
With an impassive shake of his head, he replied, “You’re going for a ride. Put your hands behind your back.”
The bartender handed the kid the strip of rope he held. Wallace was no fool. He knew he would not be returning from the so-called ride. Quickly, his mind sorted through what facts he had gathered about the man, seeking an edge. “You’re the one they used to call the White Comanche. But you didn’t save your own mother, did you? You weren’t even around. Just like this afternoon.”
“Get your hands behind your back or you die here slowly.”
“I should’ve put a few bullets through that Branson bitch. Then you could have found her dead. Just like you did your mama.” Wallace expected a reaction but he never saw the blow coming. Cade struck abruptly, in a blink of the eye. Pain seared his skull as he was hit with the stock of the shotgun. Dazed, he dropped to his knees.
The kid grabbed his hands and tied them together while Cade kept the shotgun aimed on him. He heard the sound of footsteps as other people entered the saloon from the rear. Light footsteps belonging to a woman and heavier ones made by men’s boots.
“We got him, Miss Luellen,” Bob said.
“Good work, boys.” A tall brunette dressed in dark red strode around the bar. She bent to look him in the eye. “You got any more Bible verses you want to quote, Gabriel?”
Still hoping to gain an edge, he stared straight into her brown eyes. “Molly was praying for mercy when I broke her neck.”
A tall, muscular man grabbed the whore before she could pounce on him. “Not here, Luellen.” He ushered her to the bar. “I could use a beer, and pour one for Austin.”
“Sure thing, Cole,” the bartender said. “It’s on the house. In memory of Molly.”
Wallace swore as he was pulled to his feet by Austin Cade. A young man dressed in black entered the saloon with a hangman’s noose draped over his shoulder. He handed the noose to Miss Luellen. Wallace noticed his vivid blue eyes blinked often as he spoke to him. “Deuteronomy Chapter Nineteen, Verse Twenty-One. ‘And thine eye shall not pity; but life shall go for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth.’”
For the first time, Gabriel Wallace realized he had not known his prey as well as he thought.
Friday morning, Austin was late meeting Doss for breakfast at the hotel. It had been after midnight before he returned to the hotel. He had told Darcy that he had delivered her message. Then he had walked her home. His intention was to say goodbye at her door. Instead, he had lingered, and when she had asked him to stay, all his intentions changed.
The next thing he knew they were in her bedroom, full of frilly things like lace dollies, china figurines and sweetly-scented sachets. On Darcy’s brass bed, the pretty embroidered roses on the white linens were crushed as he sank down on the mattress with her in his arms. “Darcy,” he murmured, wanting to possess her, to make her his.
She lifted herself from him, tossed her hair back from her face and gave him the most seductive smile he’d ever seen. Then she straddled him, and whatever reality was, it no longer existed as he gripped her delicate waist, slid inside her and felt the blazing embrace of her center.
At that moment, he was in heaven. Nothing else mattered as nature ran its course.
She rode him, matching the turbulent demands of his body, and he loved how she held nothing back. The dainty bed shook with their forceful movements, and the quiet room filled with sobs and curses as completion riveted through them until they were left satisfied and exhausted in each other’s arms.
Afterward, he knew he had to get dressed and go back to the hotel while it was still night. It would not do to be seen leaving her place in the morning. He wanted to protect her reputation. “It’s hard to get up,” he admitted, enjoying the comfort of the feather mattress and the warmth of her body.
She sighed. “I wish you could stay.”
“You do?” His heart jumped on that comment. Maybe he did need more than just pleasure. The loner inside him was shocked. Women were the ones who needed love. He had done without love for years, and now he knew he couldn’t do without it any longer.
“Umm,” she responded in a wanton moan that made him want to grab her and kiss her. She closed her eyes as if they were too heavy to keep open any longer. “You are like chocolate pie.” She nestled her head on one of the pillows. “I love chocolate pie.”
“Chocolate pie.” He crawled out of the bed and reached for his pants. He had been accused of a great number of things in his time, but no one had ever said he was like chocolate pie.
She pulled a quilt over her. “Yes, I wish you were a chocolate pie and I could have a piece anytime I wanted.”
He put on his shirt and chuckled to himself. “If I could turn myself into a chocolate pie, I would. For you.”
With another yawn, she said, “I know. But you’re just as good.”
How could he argue with that?
At the Croft hotel, Austin found Doss waiting at a corner table in the restaurant. The robust marshal had ordered the largest breakfast on the menu. “Since when did you take to sleeping all day?”
Austin shrugged and said nothing about his rather eventful evening. “Are you sure you’ve got enough to eat?” He took a seat opposite the marshal at the gingham-covered table.
“I’m considering ordering seconds.” Doss finished off his coffee. “Got some news about Billy Wise. Heard he’s keeping a jail cell warm in Dodge City.”
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p; Austin smiled. “Suits me fine.” The waiter appeared and took his order for a regular breakfast while Doss asked for another biscuit and more gravy.
“Billy fell in with the wrong bunch. They tried robbing a stagecoach. The driver was killed,” Doss said. “I figure we can get to Dodge City before they hang him.”
“There’s no reason to go. I know where Midnight Dancer is,” Austin replied. “Billy sold her.” Austin sipped his coffee as he related the story Darcy had told him. “I’m going after her today. I’m hoping there won’t be any trouble.”
“I know Henry Gibson. He wouldn’t keep a stolen horse. He’s as honest as they come and he’s a decent man. He took in that kid when nobody else would.”
Austin stirred his coffee. If it were a different horse, one less valuable, and one he planned to sell, he’d let them keep the horse. But he had paid a small fortune for Midnight Dancer and he already had other ranchers bidding for the colts she would someday produce.
Doss glanced up at Austin. “There was a hanging last night. It appears a group of vigilantes hung a gunslinger out in the woods. Same location where Molly Slater was found. They pinned a note on him. ‘Murdered Molly Slater’.” Doss poured syrup over his flapjacks. “You know, there was a dead Pinkerton found a couple of months ago with a note pinned on his clothes too.”
“Humph.” Austin took a drink of coffee.
“Yep.” Doss lathered a biscuit with butter. “When are you leaving, Austin?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good.” Doss popped a piece of the biscuit in his mouth.
“I want to ask you something.” Austin had no idea if Doss would answer his question. Probably not. “Have you ever regretted loving my mother?”
“Good God almighty! What kind of fool question is that?” He mopped his mouth with the cotton napkin.
“If you hadn’t fallen in love with her, you might have met someone else. A lady who would have married you.”
“What’s gotten into you? Talking about me and your ma. Hell fire!” Doss tossed the cotton napkin on the table. “That’s private stuff.”
Austin conceded with a nod. “I don’t suppose I should’ve asked.”
“Damn right, you shouldn’t.”
Austin decided to change the subject since he had annoyed Doss. “I thought we were in for bad weather last night.” The storm had moved through the area about midnight, with little rain or high winds.
“Heard the worst of it was south of us.” Doss finished off his coffee, and after a silent moment, he spoke. “I don’t have no regrets about Libby. It’s easy enough to find a woman to marry you. Could get married tomorrow if I wanted.”
The marshal’s rugged face softened. “What’s hard is finding a woman whose smile you don’t forget. A woman with a face you find pretty. Like a summer flower. A woman whose touch is a comfort to your soul,” he said. “Even though we didn’t have a lifetime together, I was very lucky I found a woman like that in your ma. Some men never do.” He shook his finger at Austin. “Those men are ones with regrets.”
Was Doss right? That question remained with Austin as he headed to the livery where he was meeting Darcy for the ride to Henry’s farm. Was he lucky to have found Darcy? To have found a woman he could love? He wanted to believe he was.
More than that, he hoped that last night had changed her. She had given herself to him without reservation. The past had not been part of what happened between them last night. It could be the beginning of a new love and a new future—if only she would embrace it.
His footsteps slowed as he saw her waiting beside a ladies’ phaeton. A stylish hat was pinned on the side of her head and blonde ringlets brushed against her throat. She wore a fashionable dress with a bustle skirt and a jacket-style bodice. Her slim throat was decorated with a jet-trimmed choker. He came to a halt. She was the woman whose smile he couldn’t forget, whose face he found pretty and whose touch was a comfort to his soul. She was everything he wanted. But she was still dressed in black. Head to toe.
Nothing had changed. Not even after last night.
He felt a sickening thud in his gut as he glanced at her bare hands. She was holding her gloves, and the gold band she wore winked at him as it caught a shaft of sunlight.
He didn’t bother with any pleasantries. “How far is it?” he asked curtly.
“About seven miles north.” She gave him an inquisitive glance. “Is everything all right?”
Mounting the saddled gelding, he fisted the reins in his right hand. “Of course. I’m getting my horse back and I’m heading home in the morning. As far as I’m concerned, things couldn’t be any better.”
He gave his horse a kick and rode ahead of her rig.
Maybe Doss had felt lucky even though the woman he loved never loved him back.
But Austin did not feel the least bit lucky at all.
Chapter Eight
As the buggy jostled along the dirt road, Darcy had no doubts that Austin’s feelings were as bittersweet as her own this morning. She took his cold, abrupt behavior as a means to detach himself from her. She understood that. What happened between two lovers in the darkness of night was easily washed away by the morning sunlight. Dressing in her widow’s weeds had returned her to who she really was instead of who she dreamed of being while she was in his arms. She longed to try and explain that to him, but he did not appear interested in any kind of conversation. Perhaps silence was best. Oftentimes, words only made things messier.
Henry was feeding his chickens when Austin and Darcy arrived. His two hounds remained under the shade of a tall silver maple while a beagle raced across the yard, barking at the intruders.
“Hush, Petey,” Henry said to the beagle. He ordered the dog back to burying bones. “Morning.” He pushed up the brim of his ragged straw hat.
“Good morning, Henry.” Darcy greeted him as she stepped out of the small rig. Austin swung off his horse and she introduced him to Henry.
“I’ve heard of you.” Henry grinned as they shook hands. “Commanded the finest partisan ranger outfit in the state. It’s my pleasure, Captain.”
“Henry, I have some bad news,” Darcy said. She glanced at Austin, whose features were a mask of indifference. “It’s about Morning Star. Billy Wise stole her from Mr. Cade.”
Henry’s face fell. “Shoulda known it! Billy Wise ain’t never been worth killing!”
“I am so sorry.” Darcy’s apology came from the core of her heart. “I’ll buy Matt a new horse. I’ll take him to Kansas City. To a horse sale and let him chose any horse he wants.”
The old man kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt as he processed this news. With a sigh of resignation, he motioned for them to follow him. “Might as well get it over with.”
The feisty black mare was tied to the corral fence. Nose in the air, she looked like a spoiled princess who expected to be pampered. Matt sat on a stool beside her and gently combed her mane.
“Boy, we’ve got company,” Henry called to him and he turned as they approached.
“Miss Darcy!” His ever-present smile widened and she wondered how she was going to break the news. He slid off the stool and grasped his crutches so he could stand to greet them.
“Hello, Matt.” She draped her arm around his small shoulders and gave him a hug. When she introduced Matt to Austin, she noticed Austin’s grim face had paled. She had not mentioned to him that Matt had been a victim of polio.
Taking a deep breath, she explained the purpose of her visit to the boy. “Mr. Cade is Morning Star’s rightful owner.”
Austin strode over to his horse. “Middy,” he said, and the mare cocked her head as if she recognized his voice. “It is good to see you.” He let her sniff his hand. She nuzzled her face against his shoulder. “I’ve missed you too.” He stroked her back as he walked around her, inspecting her body.
Matt’s bottom lip trembled as he watched the reunion. Darcy knew he was trying hard not to cry. She draped her arm around his shoulders.
“I am truly sorry, Matt,” Darcy said as tears misted her eyes. “I am. I didn’t know she was stolen. I suppose I should have suspected something, but—”
Matt turned to her. “It’s all right, Miss Darcy. Don’t cry about it, okay?”
“I’ll take you to the horse sale in Kansas City and buy you another horse. You can pick out any horse you want.” She sniffed. “We’ll find you the best horse ever. I promise.”
He hung his head. “No use in doing that.”
“Matt,” Austin spoke as he stroked the mare’s neck. “Midnight Dancer is a pedigreed quarter horse. Her lineage makes her a very valuable asset to my stock, so I can’t give her up. But for general riding, you’ll find another horse will do just fine.”
Matt shrugged as if another horse didn’t matter. “Sir, I can’t ride. Don’t need a horse if you can’t ride.”
“I suppose that’s so,” Austin agreed. “Have you ever tried riding?”
Matt’s eyes rounded and Austin asked, “You want to give it a try?”
Darcy gave Matt an encouraging smile and Henry urged him to go ahead. She basked in pride when she saw that Austin didn’t think Matt’s disability should hold him back. Austin took his gear off his other horse and put it on the mare. He helped Matt on the saddle. Then he mounted Midnight Dancer behind Matt. The two of them appeared to have an instant rapport. Austin was a patient teacher who answered Matt’s numerous questions in detail. After a couple of loops around the corral, Austin slid off the horse so Matt could ride in the saddle alone. He took the reins and led the animal around the corral, explaining the basic points of riding.
Austin should have children of his own, Darcy found herself thinking, and she quickly blocked out that thought.
Henry leaned against the fence beside her. “You hear ’bout the hanging?”
“No. What hanging?” Darcy turned her attention to Henry.
“That son of a—” Henry stopped and cleared his throat. “That man who killed poor lil’ Molly Slater got what he had coming. Gunfighter by the name of Gabriel Wallace killed her.”
Almost an Outlaw Page 6
