by Sandra Brown
Micah was tugging off his boots when he said offhandedly, "You'll never guess who we saw there. Sheldon. Grady Sheldon."
Jake's hand paused in the act of turning out the lamp. "Oh? Did he see you or Lee?"
"No. He was on his way to see the madam herself."
"How do you know?"
"I pointed him out to Betsy and told her he was from our hometown. She was impressed, said he had spent most of the day with Priscilla and that she didn't usually favor a man for that long."
Jake switched out the light, but he was suddenly wide-awake. Priscilla and Grady Sheldon. A dangerous combination if he'd ever heard of one. It bothered him to think of what those two could cook up together. He got out of bed and dressed. The boys were already snoring softly by the time he left the room.
Now he looked down into Priscilla's snide face and knew all his suspicions had been confirmed. He'd been right to come and was glad she had mentioned Banner first. "Her name is Banner," he said.
"Oh, yes, Banner. You were seen all over town with her today."
"Was I? Who told you that? My friend Sheldon?"
The flash of panic in her eyes gave away her surprise. Priscilla hadn't wanted him to know she'd been "favoring" Grady. That was even more cause for Jake to worry.
"You and Grady are friends?" Priscilla said. "That's not what he told me." This time she yielded to the temptation and laid her hands on his thighs. They were as hard as they looked.
"And just what did he tell you?"
"That Banner was considering marrying him." She threw the barb to see if it struck home. It did. Jake's eyes went cold and hard. The muscles beneath her hands flexed before relaxing again.
"Did he tell you about his wife?"
"Yes."
"How she died?"
"The fire?"
Just as Jake suspected. Sheldon was the kind who would brag to a whore. "Clever of him, wasn't it, to get rid of her and his kid that way?"
Priscilla's hands crept up his thigh, coming to within touching distance of what she ached to know again after almost twenty years. "I thought so, but then I admire ingenuity. Grady's ambitious. And he wants Banner Coleman. No doubt he'll get her."
So, Sheldon had set that fire. He wasn't beyond murder. And he wanted Banner. ' 'Not if I have anything to do with it," Jake growled.
Priscilla laughed and came up out of the water. Her hands slid over his crotch, up his stomach and over his chest. She pressed her body against his. "So it's true. Grady told me you watch that girl like an eagle. Isn't that carrying loyalty to the Colemans a bit far?"
Sinuously, she moved against him, rubbing her pubis against the juncture of his straddled legs. One hand curved around the back of his neck; the other slipped inside his shirt. "Or is it more than that? Don't tell me the big bad Jake Langston has fallen in love with a child?"
Jake refused to be provoked. "I've loved Banner all her life."
Priscilla's laugh rumbled up from her magnificent breasts. "Just like you've loved her mother, your best friend's wife?"
Before she could blink, he had her wrists manacled in his fists. "I won't have you talking about either one of them with your filthy whore's mouth."
She only smiled. "My, my, aren't you touchy? Sure you aren't falling for the daughter the same way you did the mother?"
"Shut up."
"Isn't it tough on you, Jake, loving and never having, slaking your passion on whores because you can never have the women you love? It's a rotten shame, isn't it? Hmm?"
"I said to shut up!"
"Do you love Banner Coleman?"
"Not like you mean, no."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"Prove it." Her breath struck his lips, hot and heavy. "Take me."
His arms went around her and he lifted her from the tub. His mouth swooped down hard and cruel on hers as he carried her toward the bed. Priscilla, thrilling to her victory, twisted against him, imprinting her wet body on his clothes. She wrapped her legs around his and searched for his tongue with her own.
His hands slid to her waist and closed around it like pinchers. Then he shoved her down on the bed and wiped her kiss from his mouth. "Never, Priscilla. Never. Because every time I look at you I remember that first afternoon we diddled away. An afternoon I should have been with my brother. He's dead because of me. I'll never forgive either one of us for that. And I'll never forget that you're anything but a whore. As sorry as I am, I'll never dirty myself with you again."
Priscilla lay there, panting hard, propped up on her elbows, thighs spread, chest heaving. She watched him leave, her eyes dilated with hate. He had scorned her for the last time. If she died trying, she would hurt Jake Langston, hurt him so bad he would never recover.
And the way to him was through Banner Coleman.
* * *
Banner slept late. When she woke up, she knocked on the connecting door of the rooms and when she didn't get an answer, opened it. The room was empty. The men were out and about.
Well, she wasn't going to stay cooped up in the hotel room indefinitely. If Jake could deceive her, she wouldn't worry about angering him by going out.
She dressed quickly in her suit and ate a hearty breakfast in the hotel dining room. It was a bright sunny Saturday. Traffic jammed the streets. Banner left the hotel and stepped out onto the boardwalk. She glanced up and down the street, trying to decide where to go first. Maybe if she waited for the next trolley...
"Banner Coleman?"
At the sound of her name, she turned around. She knew who the woman was instantly. Maybe it was her eyes that gave her away. They were brittle and peevish. Banner thought life held few surprises for those cool gray eyes. There were no telltale lines in her face, but an indefinable stamp of experience that made her look every day her age and older.
Her clothes surprised Banner. She would have expected tarty baubles and bangles, a glittery fabric, an overabundance of everything. Instead the woman was wearing a well-tailored blue suit. The only dashing thing about the costume was the black plume in her hat that curved over her brow. Her hands were gloved with kid. A tiny reticule was hanging from her wrist by a silk braid. She earned a parasol that matched her suit, but it was left unopened as she stepped forward from the shadows beneath the covered boardwalk.
"I'm—"
"I know who you are, Miss Watkins," Banner said.
One of Priscilla's brows arched, but she said nothing. Banner Coleman was a disagreeable surprise. She was prettier than Lydia. And more exotic. Her coloring was even more vivid. She had all of Lydia's femininity, and all of Ross's dashing good looks. It was a strong face that stared back at her, not one to be intimidated easily. She had hoped the Coleman girl would cower from her in horror. Instead she was demonstrating a spunk inherited from her mother.
Priscilla peddled female flesh. She could have made a fortune off Banner Coleman. The thought infuriated her. Banner was young. The rosy blooms in her cheeks were real. She had a respected name. People didn't snub her in the streets. Youth, natural beauty, respect. She had everything that Priscilla scorned, but secretly envied.
"So you've heard of me."
"Yes." Banner didn't elaborate. She wasn't offended because a notorious whore had confronted her on a public street. She hated the woman for being Jake's bed partner, but she was consumed with curiosity about her too.
"From Jake?"
"For one."
"Ah, Jake." Priscilla closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, she triumphed at the seething expression on Banner's face. So the chit was in love with him. This was going to be marvelous fun! "Jake and I have been ... friends... for a long time."
"Yes, I know."
"He was just a boy when I met him." Her eyelids lowered. "But not for long," she added softly. "He's become such an exciting man, don't you agree?"
"He's always been exciting to me."
"Of course," Priscilla said, almost sympathetically. "You never knew him
as a boy. How are your parents? You knew that I met them years ago too?"
"Yes, on the wagon train. They told me about you."
"Did they?"
Banner blushed. "I've heard them mention you."
Priscilla was amused. "I'll bet you have." She cocked her head to one side. "You resemble them both. You're a very attractive girl."
"Thank you."
"So is your brother. Attractive, I mean."
If she wished to shock Banner into knowing that Lee had been to the Garden of Eden, she failed. "I know he went to your whorehouse last night, Miss Watkins. Thank you for your compliment. I think he's attractive too."
Priscilla wasn't enjoying this as much as she had hoped. The girl had more gumption than she had expected and fencing with her was becoming more of a challenge than Priscilla had anticipated.
Banner didn't notice the arrival and departure of the trolley. Nor did she notice the furtive glances cast in their direction as pedestrians eddied around them. Her eyes held those of the woman who was her enemy. Priscilla Watkins posed a threat to her. It was as yet unrevealed, but it was there. Banner felt it in every fiber of her body.
Priscilla was like a beautifully polished apple, tempting, captivating, stunning in her external perfection. But Banner perceived the rottenness on the inside.
"Of course he's only your half-brother, isn't he?" Priscilla said, picking up that thread of conversation.
"Yes. His mother died when he was born. That was before my mama and papa knew each other. But you know all that, Miss Watkins. You were there."
"Yes, I was there." Her eyes slid up and down Banner assessingly. Just how much fortitude did the girl have? She was about to find out. "I was there when Jake and his brother Luke found your mother in the woods. She was nearly dead, you know."
"That's what Jake told me."
"It was to be expected I suppose after the ordeal she had been through." Casually she adjusted the feather over her brow.
"Ordeal?"
Priscilla's eyes homed in on Banner like a hawk spotting a wounded rabbit. "Giving birth out in the open like that." Then she pretended embarrassment and laid a gloved hand on her chest. "Oh, I'm sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. You did know about your mother's first baby, didn't you?"
"Baby?" Banner whispered just before all the blood drained from her head.
SEVENTEEN
"Baby?" Banner repeated the word. There had to be some mistake. She was her mother's only child.
Wasn't she?
The traitorous thought invaded Banner's mind as she stood there, trying to ward off waves of dizziness. Priscilla Watkins had finally succeeded in shocking her.
Baby! Was this the secret that Lydia and Ross had kept from her and Lee? Was this the key to their past that Banner had waited for? Suddenly she didn't want it. Let the secrets of the past remain intact. If this Watkins woman had imparted the news, it couldn't be pleasant, and Banner thought she was better off not knowing.
But like a bird mesmerized by a snake, she stared back at Priscilla. Her eyes were trained on the woman's painted lips, as though convincing her ears mat she wasn't hearing properly.
"Nobody ever knew who Lydia was or where she came from, much less who that baby belonged to."
"You're lying. There wasn't a baby," Banner rasped. "My mama never had another baby."
"Of course she did, my dear. It died out there in the woods somewhere in Tennessee. Ma and Zeke Langston buried it. Word had spread through the wagon train by noon that the Langston boys had found a girl and her dead baby in the woods."
"I don't believe you."
Priscilla laughed tnroattty. "Oh, yes, you do. You're an intelligent girl. You've always known there was more to your parents than what you saw on the surface, haven't you?"
"No!"
"Didn't your mother ever tell you that she was taken to Ross Coleman's wagon to wet-nurse baby Lee?"
Banner's lips thinned stubbornly. She shook her head furiously. "It's not true."
"Ask her," Priscilla whispered with the taunting inflection of the serpent offering Eve the apple.
"Ma Langston only took her to him to help with Lee."
"She nursed him. My mama was in the Coleman wagon when Ma brought Lydia in. She said her breasts were leaking milk."
"No."
"And you know if she had milk, that means she had a baby. Besides, I saw her nursing him myself plenty of times."
"You're lying!"
"Or is your mother? Ask her. See what your mother says about that other baby. I wonder who fathered it. And ask your papa about his past too. I never did believe—"
"Priscilla!"
Jake barked her name from the doorway of the hotel. He had entered the lobby on the Third Street side and gone immediately to their rooms. When he discovered Banner wasn't there, he had dashed out to Throckmorton Street, only to be brought up short at seeing her engaged in conversation with Priscilla Watkins.
That in itself was shocking enough. But the paleness of Banner's cheeks and the chalky line around her mouth made his heart constrict with dread.
Damn the whore! Damn the day he ever met her. If she had hurt Banner, told her something she didn't need to know, he would kill her.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded as he came striding toward them. He wedged himself between the two women, acting as a shield for Banner.
"Having a pleasant little chat with Miss Coleman. I was just inquiring into the well-being of her parents."
Jake's eyes hardened menacingly. He didn't believed Priscilla's honeyed explanation for one moment. In the first place, she didn't give a damn about anybody's well-being but her own. It had been no accident that she met Banner on the street. She had probably hired someone to point Banner out to her. Ordinarily Priscilla wouldn't have exposed herself to the madness of a Saturday morning in Fort Worth's commercial district. No, this meeting had been carefully calculated, and it boded no good for Banner.
"Banner, get inside."
Jake kept his deadly blue stare on Priscilla. He spoke softly, but no less emphatically to Banner, who was still spellbound by what Priscilla had told her. "Banner, get inside," Jake repeated when several seconds passed and she didn't move.
Like a sleepwalker, she stepped around him and went into the hotel. Only when she was well out of hearing did his eyes slice back to Priscilla.
"What did you tell her?"
"Why, nothing, Jake. I—"
"What did you tell her?" he shouted.
"Why don't you ask her?" Priscilla said, drawing herself up haughtily.
"I intend to. And you'd better hope to God I don't find out you've hurt her."
She smiled scornfully. "Poor Jake. First the mother. Now the daughter. You're a champion for lost causes, aren't you? When you've run out of them, you can always come back to me." She laid her hand on his chest. "I've got what you really want."
He threw back his head and laughed. "No., Priscilla. It's the other way around. I've got what you really want."
Her face became ugly with hate and she snatched her hand back as though he had bitten her. She turned on her heel, popped her parasol open and strode down the sidewalk, her skirts angrily swishing.
Men had fought over her, drunk themselves sick over her, a few had even killed themselves over her. None had ever laughed. That bastard had laughed!
How she hated him. She had seen the way he protected the girl. The fool probably fancied himself in love with her, just as he'd been with her mother years ago. Priscilla wouldn't have traded places with either Lydia or Banner, but it galled her that Jake preferred both of them over her. When had he ever rallied to her cause? Since that day his brother got killed, she had meant nothing to him but something to wipe his feet On. And isn't that what all men did to her?
They used her. Oh, yes, they liked to work out their frustrations on her, fulfill their wildest desires with her, but when had she ever gotten more from a man than the crumbs of his life left over
from his family and business? When had a man, any man, ever looked at her with gentle protectiveness the way Jake had that Coleman girl?
She despised them all.
Just as she arrived at that conclusion, one of her nemeses materialized. Dub Abemathy was crossing the street with his buxom wife and horse-faced daughter in tow. He was tipping his hat to those whom they met. The gauche daughter simpered stupidly when her father introduced her to one gentleman. The wife looked well fed and complacent. And why shouldn't she? She was the wife of one of the city's leaders. Priscilla wondered if Mrs. Abernathy would look quit so smug if she knew the depravity her husband was capable of in bed.
Without an instant's hesitation, Priscilla daintily raised her skirt and stepped off the boardwalk and into the street. She crossed it slowly, attracting as much attention as she could while her eyes stayed on the Abernathys as Dub helped first his wife, then the graceless daughter, into their shiny black carriage pulled by a magnificent gray. Dub was just stepping in himself when Priscilla reached them.
She took supreme satisfaction in the look of absolute horror on Mrs. Abernathy's race. Her flabby jaws hung slack. The daughter's whey face collapsed in disbelief. They knew who she was and that delighted her.
"Good morning, Dub." Her voice was husky, intimate, but loud enough for anyone nearby to hear her address him by bis first name.
He froze in the act of stepping into the buggy. Then slowly he turned his head. His eyes beaded in on Priscilla. If they had been swords, she would be dead from the lancing look he gave her. Then, without saying a word, he climbed into the buggy and gave the horse a smart rap on his rump with the whip.
Priscilla glanced around and smiled craftily. She had an audience. Good. Dub Abernathy needed some humbling. She would love to be privy to the explanation he gave his wife once they reached their mansion.
Feeling somewhat mollified after Jake's rejection, she stepped on to the boardwalk and headed home, back to Hell's Half Acre.
* * *
Banner was sitting motionless in the chair nearest the window when Jake came in. "Banner?"
He crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. Her hands were lying listlessly in her lap. He covered them with his own. "Banner, what is it? What did she say to you?"
