Rico (The Rock Creek Six Book 3)

by Lori Handeland

  Tears sparked at the back of her eyes, and she put a stop to her maudlin thoughts right away. She had a place of her own; she had Johnny to love; she had friends; she had money. There was no reason Rock Creek should seem so dismal. But tell that to the long faces that gathered in her saloon every day. As much as the men had whined about Rico being a pain, they whined now about his being gone.

  As Lily finished her favorite sad song, she glanced at a table where three men pouted as only men could. If she hadn’t already missed Rico and Carrie so badly that she thought she might die of it, those three would have made her cry just by looking at them.

  Jed had never returned to Rock Creek, opting instead to split off from their group, join up with Russell and become a Pinkerton detective. Personally, Lily thought Jed couldn’t bear to come back without the Kid.

  Or perhaps he’d known what would happen if he did. Reese and Sullivan had promised to bring Rico home. Eden and Mary hadn’t been too happy to find out they’d left him behind. According to Lily’s friends, the two men had slept on the floor for a week.

  “If you sing another sad song, Lily, I swear I will shoot the piano,” Cash drawled.

  “W-will n-not.” For some reason, Cash didn’t scare Johnny at all. Lily wasn’t sure why.

  “All right, boy, I won’t. But play somethin’ lighter before I take my own life in despair.”

  Johnny obliged. He was doing very well, though still quiet, and the stutter continued. He missed Carrie with a heart-wrenching depth that often brought tears to Lily’s eyes. He’d hunted down Gizzard and brought the blasted creature home, where he treated it like a baby. Lily couldn’t begrudge Johnny anything that soothed his pain.

  He refused to tell her all that R.W. had done to him. She assumed the knife wounds had been punishment for stuttering, but Johnny would not say. With the man dead and Johnny safe with her, there was no point in pressing him about it if he didn’t want to share. Lily could understand hiding a secret. She still wished she’d kept her own to herself.

  Nate and Reese played cards with Cash. Nate had been awful sober of late, and that concerned everyone nearly as much as his drinking had. Because sober, Nate was haunted by ghosts he would not name, and as he grew gaunter and paler and quieter by the day, so grew the worry of everyone who loved him.

  Sullivan came through the door. The others dealt him in without so much as a hello. Of all the men, he appeared the least affected by Rico’s defection. But, more often than not, the man who acted the least upset was the one bothered by something the most.

  Being mid afternoon of a weekday, the four were her only customers. When the sound of galloping hooves stopped outside the saloon, Lily wasn’t surprised when every single one checked to make sure she was safely behind the bar. They’d been behaving like bodyguards since they rode out of New Orleans.

  A dusty little whirlwind spun into the saloon screaming, “Johnny!”

  He caught Carrie mid-leap, swinging her around and around. Their childish laughter mingled. Lily had never heard Johnny laugh like that, and the sound made her smile until complete silence settled over the room, and she knew Carrie had not come back alone.

  How could Rico appear more handsome than the last time she’d seen him? Even tired and dusty, Lily wanted to kiss him all over. How pathetic. Like mother, like daughter, and that would not do.

  He was probably already married and working on an heir. Hell, knowing Rico, he’d most likely impregnated the wife already and needed to dump Carrie on someone who loved her. Fine. Lily wasn’t going to let the girl live unloved just because she’d had the misfortune to fall in love with Rico Salvatore—a malady that seemed to be going around.

  “What do you want?” Lily was proud when her voice came out cold enough to freeze the Gulf.

  She braced herself against all the feelings the mere sight of him revived. If he touched her, she wasn’t sure what she might do, say, or agree to.

  But after one piercing, unreadable look, Rico crossed to the four men. Lily should have known Rico had not come here for her.

  “I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but I’m going to need a little help.”

  “Well, thank God,” Cash said. “Here I thought we’d have to drum up our own trouble. But the Kid is back.”

  They all stood and checked their weapons.

  “Just like that?” Rico asked. “You don’t want to know where I’ve been? Why I left? What kind of trouble?”

  “Nope,” they all answered in unison.

  “Where to?” Reese asked.

  A single gunshot from the street had them all moving toward the door. Lily had never seen them like this. Despite her sadness at the proof that Rico had felt nothing for her beyond lust, the sight of these men together gave her chills. Only one word came to mind as five disparate men molded into an invincible whole.

  Magnificent.

  Lily hurried over and peeked outside. Adriano Salvatore and five mounted, armed men faced Three Queens. Rico and the others stood on the porch.

  “We had a deal, Rico. The woman’s life for the entirety of yours.”

  Lily’s heart stuttered. His life for hers? She couldn’t seem to get her mind around what she was certain she’d heard.

  “Get on your horse and get your ass back home.”

  “No, sir.”

  Adriano’s face turned an interesting shade of purple.

  “I love it when that happens.” Carrie slipped her hand into Lily’s. On the other side, she hung on to Johnny as if she didn’t plan to ever let him go. From the look on Johnny’s face, that was all right with him.

  “I’ll have her arrested and hung right in front of your eyes.”

  “Your money means nothing here,” Reese said.

  “Then I’ll have her hauled back to New Orleans.”

  “She was acquitted,” Sullivan put in. “There’s a little matter of the Constitution in the way of that plan.”

  “You all fought against the Constitution. Now you’re throwing it in my face?”

  “We lost that fight,” Nate murmured.

  Cash shot him a glare. “That’s the only one.”

  “And now we kind of like the Constitution,” Reese said.

  “But we really don’t like you.” Somehow, Cash had his pistol in his hand, and he checked the load with a deceptively casual flick of his wrist.

  “What will you do, gunfighter?” Adriano asked. “Shoot us all? Some of you will die if I say so.”

  “Wait.” Rico stepped forward, making himself the prime target.

  “No!” Lily shouted.

  A glare from Cash had her biting her lip until she tasted blood. She’d been angry enough to hate Rico, but there wasn’t enough anger in the world to make Lily stop loving him.

  “This isn’t their fight,” Rico said.

  “Like hell,” Reese growled.

  “Quiet!” Amazingly, everyone listened to Rico, though none of them looked happy about it. “I’m not leaving, Father. I’m not letting you touch Lily. Kill me if you want to. See what wonders that will do for your political career.”

  “He’s gonna turn scarlet now.” Carrie giggled.

  “This isn’t funny. Rico could get hurt.”

  “No, he won’t. Daddy can fix anything.”

  “Daddy?”

  “When I ran off, I told him I wanted you to be my mommy.” She fixed Lily with a soul-searching gaze. “Will you?”

  Lily found herself nodding even before she’d thought things out. How could she not say yes? She loved this child. She’d mourned Carrie’s loss as deeply as she’d mourned Rico’s.

  “I left a note saying if’n he wanted to be my daddy he should meet me in Rock Creek.” She scowled. “But he caught up to me before I even got a mile out of that pisshole he called home.”

  “Carrie.”

  “Well, it was. Rico said we could come back to you and Johnny, so here we are. Daddy’ll take care of everything. You just have to believe in him and give him some time.�
��

  Why couldn’t they all possess the simple faith of a child?

  “You are no longer my son.” Adriano’s voice was choked.

  “I haven’t been for a very long time.”

  “You will get nothing from me.”

  “Have I ever?”

  “Scarlet and purple,” Carrie murmured. “Never saw that before.”

  “If I ever find you near me or mine,” Rico said, “I’ll make sure your political career is as dead as Randolph Ward.”

  Adriano whirled his horse and pounded out of town, surrounded by a cloud of dust and hired help.

  “I’ll take that as an agreement to my terms,” Rico said.

  “Why didn’t you tell us he was blackmailing you?” Cash asked.

  Rico continued to watch the cloud on the horizon. “This wasn’t your fight.”

  “Since when has that mattered to any of us?” Reese wondered.

  Rico faced him. “You have a family now. So does Sullivan. I didn’t want to bring trouble here.”

  “But you did, anyway. Why?”

  “You told me I had to learn to stand up for myself—”

  “But—”

  “Let me finish, Reese. There is a time to stand up for yourself and a time when every man knows he must ask for the help of his friends. In this case, I thought that six”—he glanced at the men—“or five, is better than one.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that?” Reese asked.

  “I think I understand it now.”

  “About damn time,” Cash muttered.

  “I might be slow, but eventually I learn. At least I know what I need now.” Rico glanced toward the saloon. “I need her.”

  “Go get her, then.”

  “I can still marry and bury,” Nate said.

  Rico grinned. “Wait right here.”

  Lily backed away from the door in a hurry. Carrie and Johnny ran off, hand in hand, to see Gizzard.

  Rico filled the doorway—dark, handsome, tall, and more confident than he’d ever been before. No more false bravado. Rico had found himself while he’d been gone, and maybe Lily had discovered herself, too.

  For every step Rico took forward, Lily took a step back. Until he made one big stride and crowded her against the bar. “Don’t run away, Lily.”

  All she could do was stare into his beautiful face and think that he had gone back to a place he hated, planned on living a life he loathed, for her.

  “Can you trust me to keep my vow to you now that I’ve broken one to my father?”

  “Wh-what vow?”

  “I’ll love you forever.”

  To Lily’s horror, tears filled her eyes. “Rico, you broke my heart. I thought—” Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t go on.

  He placed his palm very gently on her hip but made no other move to touch her. “What did you think?”

  “That you left because I couldn’t give you an heir. I felt so worthless.”

  “Querida, you are worth everything to me. You are perfection.”

  “I can never give you children.”

  “I heard you the first time. I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. Still, never is almost as long as forever. We shall see what we shall see. Blood doesn’t make a family, Lilita. Love makes a family. All I need is you and them.” He lifted his chin to indicate Carrie and Johnny, who had returned with the reptile. “I wouldn’t blame you if you turned me away, but I will not go. I will spend the rest of my life convincing you to love me.”

  “I already love you.”

  He blinked, shocked at her easy admission. “When did this happen?”

  “I think it was when I kicked you in your Texas-sized ego.”

  He winced. “I remember. You really must stop.”

  She kissed him, hard and deep, pouring everything she felt for him into the embrace. When at last they parted, she held his gaze and repeated the vow that had become theirs.

  “I’d do anything for you.”

  The End

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  The sequel to Rico is Jed by Linda Winstead Jones.

  If you’d like to read an excerpt, please turn the page.

  Jed

  The Rock Creek Six

  Book 4

  by Linda Winstead Jones

  December, 1874

  The stagecoach hit a rut in the road, and for a few terrible seconds it seemed to Hannah that the primitive conveyance, which was filled to capacity with six suffering passengers, flew through the air. It landed with a thud, and she gripped the seat tight to avoid being thrown into someone’s lap. She gripped the head of her cane more tightly, too, though that wasn’t likely to be of any assistance if she found herself airborne.

  Bertie was seated quietly beside her. It gave Hannah some comfort to know that if she did have the misfortune to land in someone’s lap, it would most likely be that of her maid and companion, and not one of the unsavory men who were seated on the opposite bench.

  “I plan to write a strong letter of protest to the stage company once we arrive in Rock Creek,” she said through gritted teeth, as she made a futile attempt to remove some of the dust from the silver-gray camel hair skirt of her traveling dress. The matching silk sash was most likely ruined, as was the gray felt hat she’d discarded days ago, after the first surprising jolt of the stagecoach. “This journey has been the most unbearable experience of my life. The food at the last stop was inedible, the coffee was cold and thick, the dust and heat are insufferable, and I believe our driver is approximately one hundred and two years old. A few of these bumps in the road could be made easier, I am certain, if we had been assigned a driver with a more skilled touch.”

  Bertie, bless her meek soul, muttered a weak “Yes, ma’am.” Everyone else ignored her.

  Well, everyone but the disgustingly filthy man who sat directly opposite her. Bearded, longhaired, and covered with a layer of Texas dirt, he lifted his head and peered beneath the rim of his foul, misshapen wide-brimmed hat to glare at her with narrowed, glittering, hard, very blue eyes. How rude!

  Bertie was the perfect traveling companion, in Hannah’s estimation. She was neat—as her own dark blue traveling dress attested to—quiet, well-mannered, and humble. With her fair hair and deep brown eyes she might have been called attractive by some, but as her eyes were always downcast and her fair hair was always severely contained, that attractiveness was not a distraction.

  She glanced at the young girl who sat at Bertie’s left side, out of curiosity and also as an excuse to take her eyes off the bearlike man who continued to stare so audaciously. She was a pretty, dark-haired girl by the name of Irene Benedict, and she didn’t appear to be more than sixteen years old. It was abominable that she was traveling unescorted! It was distressing, as well, that she was inappropriately dressed for traveling. While her pale pink dress was young and feminine and lovely, it was best suited to a casual party or an evening at home, not traveling in mixed company. It was certainly not suitable for December, no matter how balmy the weather.

  Seated directly across from Irene was an elderly lady, a Mrs. Reynolds, who’d joined their party at the last stop. She was going to visit her son in Rock Creek, she’d said, to see the latest addition to the family, her first granddaughter. Her son, who owned one of the ranches near Rock Creek, had four sons, but this was his first daughter. She very proudly showed them the small pastel quilt she’d fashioned for the child.

  Next to Mrs. Reynolds, wedged between the older woman and the rude, scruffy bear of a man, sat a portly gentleman who sipped frequently from a flask he
stored in the inside pocket of his checkered coat. He’d introduced himself as Mr. Virgil Wyndham and then added “gambler” with a wink in her direction, as if she might find that occupation delightful. All things considered, Hannah considered herself fortunate to have her seat between the window and Bertie.

  When she glanced again at the man before her, his eyes were closed. Hours ago, when introductions had been made, he’d mumbled Jed Rourke, with no further explanation offered. Perhaps he had no occupation; he looked rather like a mountain man, in his worn denim trousers, threadbare cotton shirt, and leather vest. He’d been wearing a long buckskin coat and carrying a rifle when he’d joined them, but those items were now stored beneath the seat, along with his saddlebag—all he carried with him. No baggage, no trunk. Yes, he appeared to be a wandering wild man. Surely no gentlemen with a suitable profession would allow his beard and hair to grow in such an untamed manner, or possess such a well-worn hat.

  Mr. Rourke, whatever he might be, had been trying to sleep for the past two hours but was apparently having no luck. Those steely eyes never stayed closed for long.

  Between the bumps and the dust and the heat, how could anyone sleep?

  Rose better have a damned good reason for summoning me to this godforsaken place, she thought, not for the first time since her interminable journey from Alabama had begun.

  Her irritation at the current situation came and went, but in truth Hannah knew her sister had to have an excellent reason for sending the summoning telegram. After all, it had been twelve years since her sister had run off with that good-for-nothing shopkeeper, and in all that time there had been no requests for help. There were letters, of course, and since their father’s death three years earlier there had been several invitations for Hannah to visit and see the children, but this... This was very different from a friendly invitation.

  Come at once. I need you. Could the telegram have been more cryptic?

  Perhaps Rose was ill and needed assistance. The very idea gave Hannah an unpleasant chill. Maybe Baxter’s general store was failing and they needed money. Hannah frowned as she stared out the window. That was probably the reason for the telegram. Everyone came to Hannah Winters for a loan when they found themselves in a bind. Some gentlemen were even so witless as to ask her to marry them in order that they might have ready access to her late father’s fortune, the substantial sum that was now hers. Foolish men.