An Outlaw to Protect Her

by Harper St. George

  Hunter nodded in agreement. “I know. It’s not great news, but it’s all we’ve got right now.”

  Zane ran a hand across his brow, feeling a headache start to pound behind his temples. “You put any stock in what that letter said? You think the person really knows who she is? Where she came from?”

  The grim look on Hunter’s face confirmed his feelings. “I’ve been thinking about that and it seems credible. Why go through the trouble otherwise? Anyone here knows that Glory has her own men for protection.” Aside from Able, the house employed two gunmen to keep the peace. They were always visible at the front doors and occasionally making the rounds of the parlors and lounges. “After what happened a couple of years ago, they know that she can call us in for help. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “I’ve spent the morning talking to her staff.” Zane sighed. “They all speak highly of her. Most of them had nowhere to go when she took them in. Others sought out Victoria House because they knew they’d be treated better here than any other brothel in the territory.”

  “You’re thinking it’s not someone on her staff?” Hunter asked.

  “Doesn’t seem to be. There was a singer who performed last night. When Glory introduced her she said that she was from St. Louis. I’ll look into her, but if it’s not her then...” Zane let out a frustrated breath and kicked at the dirt with his boot. “Then I don’t know.”

  The lines between Hunter’s eyes deepened. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Hunter shrugged. “Glory has the money to pay this person. I hope we find who it is, but if not she’ll be fine.”

  Zane shook his head in disbelief at Hunter’s cavalier attitude. “She can pay, but what’s to say this person doesn’t report back to his boss that he found her?”

  “I think that’s unlikely.” Hunter’s gaze narrowed, his eyes becoming slits as he studied Zane. “What has you so upset?”

  Maybe the fact that he was suddenly sharing tight quarters with the woman who’d kept him tied in knots. Or maybe it was because he’d barely slept last night because the pillow she’d given him had been covered in her scent. He’d recognized it as one from her bed, which meant she’d laid her head on it the previous night...or maybe even hugged it against her body as she’d slept. The thought of all the places on her body that pillow could’ve touched had kept him awake far into the morning. As a result he was tired and irritable today.

  “I don’t want anything to happen to her on my watch.” His words came out forced and flat, a sure sign that they were only the partial truth. He didn’t want anything to happen to her on his watch, but that’s not what had kept him tossing and turning all night. That had been compliments of a near constant erection. It wasn’t a surprise that Hunter picked up on the partial truth. They’d spent enough time together in their hunt for Derringer that they could read each other well.

  “You realize Glory never entertains men, right?”

  Zane gritted his teeth. “That’s what I’ve heard. What are you saying?” In addition to learning that no one knew where she’d come from, Zane had learned precious little about the woman who fascinated him so much. But the fact that she never entertained clients was one of them. He’d been unsure if she occasionally might or had retired from that some time ago. No. He’d learned that she never slept with men, and she never seemed to take a fancy to any man. None ever appeared to call on her. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information or why it mattered so much to him. Instead of analyzing it, he tucked it away to bring out later on.

  “Nothing. Just making sure you know,” Hunter said.

  “I’m not interested in having her entertain me,” Zane shot back, stepping away to walk back to the front of Victoria House.

  “Hmmm. Interesting.” Hunter said the word as if Zane had just given him a fresh nugget of information.

  Zane shook his head. This was a conversation he wasn’t ready to have. The truth was he didn’t know what he wanted from Glory. He couldn’t offer her a future because he didn’t want that. It appeared that she didn’t indulge in casual affairs, so he didn’t know where to go from here. Right now all he wanted was to tuck her against him to shelter her from the world, but he knew that she’d bristle. She wanted his help in tracking down the person out to extort her, and she might even take his protection in the form of a hired gun, but nothing more. She valued her independence and knew how to take care of herself. In fact, she was one of the strongest people he’d ever known. He’d watched her put grown men in their place with only the flash of her eyes. God help the poor fool who dared to go up against her, she’d verbally flay them alive or have Able toss them on their ass in the street. No, Glory didn’t need him, at least not in that way. Maybe that’s why she was so interesting to him.

  “You want to talk about it?” Hunter asked.

  Zane bristled. “About what? Glory?” He waited on the front stoop for Hunter to catch up to him.

  Hunter shook his head, a half smile on his face. “Look, brother, I don’t think it’s any secret how you feel about Glory. I’ve seen the way you look at her. We’ve all seen it.”

  “We’re doing this?” Zane took in the people going in and out of the general store down the street, ready to do almost anything to avoid this conversation.

  Hunter sighed. “Glory isn’t like Christine. She’s cut from a different cloth.”

  Zane winced at the sound of her name and clenched his jaw so hard his scar throbbed. No one had mentioned Christine to him in years. After what had happened, it’s almost as if they’d come to some silent resolution that no one would talk about her. Hunter was right. Christine had been the opposite of Glory. She’d needed his help to do everything from saddling her horse to accompanying her on rides around the Reyes hacienda because she hadn’t wanted to ride alone. Those rides had given them plenty of time to talk which had led to kissing and so much more.

  Christine had been a virgin when he’d taken her. Even now, though he loathed himself for it, he could hear her soft whisper as she found him in his bunk and told him that she loved him. That she wanted a life with him. He’d believed her then, and he still believed her. She had loved him, and yet, when it had mattered, she’d turned her back when her brother had beaten him to within inches of his life.

  “I know that she’s not the same, but it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change the fact that love doesn’t mean anything.”

  Hunter shook his head. “I understand why you’d feel that way. You have every right to. But it’s not always that way.”

  Zane was glad that Hunter had found Emmy and things seemed to be working out for them. No way in hell was Zane going to open himself up to that hurt again. The pain of the whip splitting open his face had nothing on the agony of watching Christine turning away from him as her brother hit him over and over again.

  Derringer and his men had blown through the ranch that night to demand that Castillo’s grandfather give up trying to get his money back from them. One minute Zane had been in the barn brushing down a horse, and the next he’d heard shouting and the whole place had swarmed with men on horseback wielding rifles. He’d run for his gun but Bennett, Derringer’s son, had come out of the darkness, riding his horse and blocking Zane’s path.

  Christine had told him about their affair and he was out for blood. Not only was Zane’s skin the wrong color for Bennett’s sister, but he didn’t have nearly the social standing required to touch her. The whip had come from nowhere, lashing the side of his face before he’d had a chance to react. When Zane had run, Bennett had jumped off his horse and lashed him across the back several times, bringing Zane to his knees. Bennett hadn’t even stopped when Christine had ridden out of the darkness pleading with him to spare Zane.

  After her token protest that Bennett stop, she’d watched in silence. She could’ve handed Zane his gun, but Bennett had to
ld her to stand down. He’d sweetened the deal and ensured her compliance when he’d promised her she’d lose her cut of the money they’d stolen if she helped Zane. She’d turned and left. It was the last time he’d ever seen her.

  Some might say that it was a sure sign that she hadn’t ever loved him. Zane knew that she had. He’d seen that look in her eyes, the same one that Caroline and Emmy gave their husbands. Christine had loved him as much as Zane had loved her. But it hadn’t been nearly enough.

  He wasn’t going to let himself get pulled into that emotion again. He also wasn’t about to open himself up to Hunter on the street in front of the brothel. “I appreciate your concern, but right now we need to focus on helping Glory.” Hunter gave a reluctant nod, and Zane continued, “I’m going to talk to Sally Roarke, the singer from last night. I’ll let you know what she says. It’s suspicious she showed up here around the same time as that note.”

  “And I’ll keep you updated when I hear something,” said Hunter. “I’m hoping for a telegram soon from my contact in Chicago.”

  “Let me know as soon as you’ve heard.”

  “Will do.” Hunter tilted the brim of his hat.

  They parted ways and Zane made his way to the second floor, where Mrs. Roarke had been given a small suite. He’d tried to talk to her earlier in the morning but was told by her maid that she slept in after performances. He hoped like hell that she’d have something to do with that note. He hated the idea of someone out there being after Glory. If it were someone she knew, someone they had access to, someone simply looking for a few extra thousand dollars, well, that would make their lives a hell of a lot easier.

  The hallway here was as elaborate as the downstairs: plush carpet lined the hall, bronze wall sconces, intricately carved wooden doors led to each suite, which he’d heard had an attached bathing chamber, an expense that made it rival the mansion out on the Jameson’s estate. It was no wonder Victoria House managed to attract only the most exclusive clientele.

  The floor was quiet at this time of day. The women didn’t start seeing patrons until nightfall. When he paused in front of Mrs. Roarke’s door, his knock seemed to echo up and down the still hallway.

  The door opened and a maid peeked out. He didn’t recognize her as someone who worked at the house. She was a small woman, smaller than Glory, with dark, beady eyes that darted up and down the hallway as if she’d expected someone else to be lurking. When they finally settled on him, she gave him a disapproving look from the top of his head all the way to his battered boots. Finally, she said, “She’s awake now.”

  When the maid showed no interest in actually inviting him in, Zane said, “Then I’d like to talk to her now.”

  “Oh, let him in, Sue.” That voice filled the room and spilled out into the hallway, seeming somehow musical and exuberant even though she wasn’t singing.

  He felt a tiny surge of victory when the maid gave him a frown but opened the door and stepped back so that he could enter. Inclining his head to her, the corner of his mouth ticked up in a grin as he walked into the room. It was just as he’d expected. A large, four-poster bed sat in the back corner complete with gauzy bed curtains and plush blankets. Brass wall sconces filled the room with light, and the walls were done in a cream-and-rose wallpaper that managed to appear elegant rather than gaudy. He couldn’t help but note the discrepancy between this and Glory’s own modest bedchamber. Why would she scrimp when it came to her own comfort? Was it because she didn’t care about the lavish trimmings, or was she simply that conscious of the cost? There was so much he didn’t know about the woman, and it was eating at him.

  “Come join me, Mr. Pierce.” The woman occupied a chair in the seating area and indicated that he should take the wingback chair across from her. She seemed quite at home in the room and not bothered at all to be welcoming him in her silk dressing gown. “Would you care for a cup of tea?” She reached forward and picked up the handle of a porcelain teapot, poised to pour him a cup.

  He inclined his head as he sat down. “Thank you.” He didn’t give a damn about tea, but he wanted to be polite and court her favor.

  The older woman gave him a smile as she poured him a cup and then refilled her own. “Cream or sugar?”

  “No, thank you.”

  She nodded and proceeded to pour a generous amount of cream in her own cup. He studied her as she did. Even though she’d obviously only just risen, her dark hair was curled, falling around her shoulders as she leaned forward. Through a layer of artfully applied cosmetics, her face was just starting to show deep grooves around her mouth and eyes. She was very pretty when she leered at him, her painted red lips curving into a perfect bow as she reached for something under the table. “A splash of brandy?”

  He did relax then, something about her putting him at ease, and held out his cup. He’d never cared for the American version of tea. He’d grown up with root tea on the reservation and his father, a white trader, had picked up a taste for it, so in his later childhood when he’d lived with the man, it was all he’d known of tea. His first taste of this particular type of tea had been on the Jameson ranch. Hunter had cut it with brandy then so it’d be palatable.

  The maid hovered around in the background, clearly having nowhere to go except for the bathing chamber to give them privacy. The woman seemed to notice her and said, “Sue, go down to the kitchens and bring us a tray. Have you eaten yet?” She directed the question at Zane.

  He nodded. “A little while ago.”

  “Just a plate for me then.” The maid bobbed an awkward curtsy before she hurried out of the room.

  “You’ll have to excuse her. She came to me highly recommended, but I confess she sets me on edge. She’s never calm, just flits around from one thing to the next. It’s not good for my nerves.” She took a sip of her tea and Zane followed suit, content to let her talk to see what she’d say. The tea went down easy, warming his belly. The woman closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “That’s good brandy, but then Glory always has the best.”

  “You know very much about Glory?”

  She grinned again, revealing teeth that were slightly crooked but well taken care of, and opened her eyes. “Is that why you’re here? You want to know more about Glory? Sue said you’d come by once already this morning.”

  Zane shrugged, unwilling to give too much away. Some of the other women had either sensed his interest in her, or had concluded from his questions that he must be asking because he was interested. He figured there’d be talk soon anyway. They could keep him staying in her suite a secret for a night or two, but if this went much longer than that, they’d all be wondering why he was spending his nights with her. He hadn’t talked it over with Glory yet, so he didn’t answer their questions, but he thought it might be best if everyone thought the two of them were lovers. The alternative was to tell the truth and Glory seemed adverse to anyone knowing about the letter or her past.

  Mrs. Roarke looked him over, much like her maid had done earlier, but her gaze was slow and thorough. Very thorough. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat when her gaze lingered on his crotch and again when she took in the breadth of his shoulders before moving on to his face. “You’re not her normal type, I’m afraid. I’m not sure you can expect to get very far with her if that’s your hope,” she said, shaking her head.

  He frowned, wondering what the hell she meant by that. “Glory doesn’t have a type. I’m told she...” He paused, loathe to use the words Hunter had used. “She...doesn’t spend time with men.” A fist of anxiety tightened in his belly as he wondered if they were both wrong about that. Of course, she had every right to spend time with whoever she wanted, but he didn’t have to like it.

  The woman laughed and shook her head. “Just because she doesn’t spend time with men doesn’t mean she doesn’t look at men, that she doesn’t have the same desires as any other woman.”

  It made sense,
so he decided to probe a bit deeper. “And you know the type of men she prefers to look at?”

  The woman nodded, raising a brow as she took another sip of tea. Zane was beginning to think that she knew more about Glory than he’d originally thought, that she was more than a singer who passed through a couple of times a year.

  She waved a hand at him as she lowered her teacup back to its saucer. “You’re far too big. Not only your height, which would be enough on its own, but your arms, your thighs, your shoulders. Everything is so thick, so muscular. Glory prefers slighter men. Men who are fit, but not to excess, who are of a normal stature.” He must’ve been scowling because she laughed again. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with how you look. Many women, myself included—” here she gave him another once-over; he crossed his legs and began to wonder if he’d make it out of her room unscathed “—prefer men such as yourself. Robust, healthy...” Her gaze made another pass of his person. “Big.” She gave him another appreciative smile. “There is a danger about you, Mr. Pierce. Not only do you attract it, but you bring danger with you. It’s appealing.”

  He didn’t understand what kind of person was attracted to danger. Didn’t she realize that danger wasn’t some passing amusement? It had been a part of his life for so long that it was second nature to him, but not because he wanted it. Deciding that her likes and dislikes were not any of his business anyway, he steered the conversation back to Glory.

  “How long have you known Glory?”

  She gave him a knowing look, but to his surprise she answered the question. “Since she came here when she was a girl. I think she was around sixteen years old.”

  A cold sensation prickled down his spine, tightening his skin at this unexpected knowledge of her. He took in a deep breath through his nose. “What was she like when she arrived?” He knew he was treading dangerous ground. Glory didn’t want him to know about her past. He reasoned that he needed to know to help her, but deep down he knew he would’ve asked anyway. He felt like a traitor, but it didn’t stop him from leaning forward so he wouldn’t miss anything.