“It was so late when I got here last night, I didn’t wanna wake you up. I was afraid you’d shoot me if I tried to sneak in the house in the middle of the night,” Cullen replied. He rolled over on his hands and knees, and used the side of the stall to help him to his feet. “I hope Smoke’s got some coffee made. I could sure use a cup.”
Donovan watched, astonished, as his eldest held on to the side of the stall for support while he brushed some clinging pieces of hay from his clothes. The rays of the early-morning sun found their way through the open barn door to reveal the effects of his son’s recovery from his wounds, for Cullen’s face and neck were obviously leaner, a result of his substantial weight loss. Donovan was stunned. “Son, what in hell happened to you?”
“Let’s go in the house for some coffee and somethin’ to eat and I’ll tell you what happened, but I warn you, it’s a helluva story.” He glanced at the roan standing there watching them. “We might take the saddle off Jimmy’s horse first.”
“Who’s Jimmy?”
“Part of the story,” Cullen answered. “Let’s go in the house, so I don’t have to tell it twice.”
Smoke looked up when they came in the door. “Well, I’ll be go to hell,” he muttered. “Look what the cat drug in.” He retreated a couple of steps, reared his head back, and took a long, hard look, then added, “And I mean drug in. You look like hell, boy.”
The three of them sat down at the kitchen table and drank coffee while Cullen told them all that had happened since Cody brought Jug home from Blodgett Canyon. Donovan and Smoke were amazed to hear of Roberta’s treachery. Like everyone else the vicious woman came in contact with, they had both been charmed blind. Obviously disturbed when he realized that the apparent fragile appearance of his typically robust son was due to Cullen’s having been shot three times, Donovan was naturally concerned about the welfare of Jug and Cody. Cullen apologized for not going to find his brothers instead of returning home, but he knew that he would be of very little help to them until he had regained some measure of his strength. Donovan quickly assured him that there was no call for an apology. He had done the right thing. “I know they can take care of themselves,” Cullen said, “but it’s a dangerous man they’re dealin’ with, and I’ll be goin’ after them as soon as I can feel like I can stand on my own two feet.”
“You’ll be back in no time,” Smoke said. “You just need to get some of my cookin’—get some red meat in you to get your blood built back up.”
“That’s what I’m thinkin’,” Cullen replied, “startin’ right now. This coffee’s good, but I’m about ready to eat somethin’ to soak it up.”
“I reckon we are a little late on breakfast,” Smoke said, realizing then that they had all been absorbed in the story. He got up and went to the stove, still interested in hearing details. “And Mule Sibley said ol’ Gabe never had no wife?”
“That’s right.”
“Poor old Aunt Edna,” Smoke remarked, recalling Roberta’s lamenting. He grunted in obvious derision. “I could see that little vixen had all you boys fooled. You can’t never trust a woman, ’specially one as pretty as she was.” Donovan and Cullen exchanged amused glances.
Cullen’s health improved daily during the next few days. Whether it was because of Smoke’s cooking, as he steadfastly maintained, or Cullen’s determination to get back in the saddle, he became stronger and stronger. His impatience to head back over the Sapphire Mountains was eased considerably when after one week Jug and Cody came riding into the M Bar C leading Cullen’s bay gelding. A second homecoming celebration was enjoyed around the kitchen table as all the McCloud men were finally home. Overjoyed by the return of his horse, Cullen also recovered his rifle and handgun, as well as his cooking gear and supplies. “I reckon I can take Jimmy Sullivan’s horse back to him,” he remarked, “and Mrs. Sullivan’s pots and pans, too.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Cody said. “And you can get a checkup from that little nurse of yours, too.” He winked at Jug. “What was her name, Jug?”
“Marcy,” Jug replied with a mischievous grin pasted across his broad face.
“Right, Marcy,” Cody said, knowing full well what the girl’s name was. “Well, little Marcy sure seemed to ask a powerful lot of questions about ol’ Cullen when we stopped by there on the way back.” He winked at Jug again. “What kinda spell did you put on her, Cullen? I swear, the rest of us ain’t got a chance with you around. First it was Roberta that had her eyes all over you. Now it’s Marcy. How ’bout lettin’ me and Jug in on your secret power over women?”
“You go to hell,” Cullen replied, embarrassed.
Chapter 13
Raymond Tower walked into the Billings Gentleman’s Club, looking for his partner. It was the first time Tower had been to his establishment, which was really a saloon, in over a week. The past week was also the first time he had taken a vacation in the twenty years he had been in business. The Gentleman’s Club was only a few months old, and had been the source of considerable worry for him, but he felt he had no choice in the move. His prior saloon, Tower’s Place in Coulson, was losing business as the town dried up around him when the railroad opted to build in Billings instead of Coulson. There was nothing for him but to move with the railroad if he was to keep his business alive. He invested everything he had on the construction of his new saloon, and the question soon arose as to whether or not he had enough capital to keep it afloat until he picked up the required patronage. He felt he had to count his lucky stars when an investor with ready cash came along to keep the club alive. Behind the pretty face, his new partner was smart and progressive. She had ideas for attracting new business as well as maintaining steady customers. She started by suggesting the sophisticated name for the saloon, something he would never have come up with. It hadn’t caught on yet. Most folks just referred to it as the new saloon. However, he felt confident that for the first time in his business life, he was being guided by someone who knew success.
“Jack,” Tower called out upon seeing his partner’s brother carrying an armload of wood inside for the fireplace at the end of the large barroom. “I’m looking for my partner.”
Sykes cocked his head to the side to gawk at him. “She’s in the back room. I’ll tell her you’re lookin’ for her.”
“I appreciate it,” Tower said. He made an effort to be civil to the irritating man with the constant scowl even though he found him an unpleasant sort. While he waited, he sat down at a table and ordered a drink.
Sykes walked into the back room, where he found his sister looking through some papers she had prepared for Tower to sign. “Hey, Roberta,” he started, then corrected himself. “I mean, Rebecca. Your partner’s at the bar. Sez he wants to talk to you.”
“Damn it, Jack, when are you gonna learn? My name’s Rebecca,” she scolded, “Rebecca St. James.”
“Sorry, Your Highness,” Sykes replied sarcastically. “Anyway, that whiny old bastard you call your partner is at the bar.” Jack wasn’t totally comfortable with Roberta’s assumed identity. He understood the logic behind changing their names, especially with the trail she had left behind her. They had to figure that someone would be looking for them, either Bob Yeager or Cody McCloud. Yeager had not caught up with them. Maybe it was because he hadn’t figured out that they had headed to Billings, or maybe it was because Cody McCloud got him, instead of the other way around. Roberta had also explained why it was better if she was the partner in this deal, instead of the two of them. She said that Tower might have felt threatened by him, while he would feel more comfortable with her.
He was sincere in his admiration for her, however, and her ability to bounce back from disappointment. Her plan to buy up the land around Billings seemed especially shrewd, but they were too late to cash in. They arrived in town to find that the president of the Northern Pacific Railroad, Frederick H. Billings, and some of the other railroad executives had long ago picked that plum—and sold the land back to the railroad. That would have b
een enough to send Jack to the saloon to drink the money away. Roberta hardly blinked, and in two days’ time, she was wooing Raymond Tower for half ownership in a new saloon. He appreciated how lucky he was to have her managing their money. He was bound to end up a wealthy man, and he knew it was all because of his sister. Because of that, he supposed he could live with his role as his sister’s lackey for a brief period until the untimely death of Raymond Tower, which wouldn’t be very long after Roberta got all the necessary papers signed that would ensure that the business went to her. Then, she promised, he would become her equal partner. Had he been possessed of a slightly sharper brain, he might have wondered how far in the future his partnership would last—sister or not.
“Raymond!” she sang out cheerfully as she swept into the barroom. His face reflected the effect of her theatrical entrance, lighting up his graying features, and he quickly rose to his feet to hold a chair for her. Her arm extended, she gestured in a sweeping motion that covered the entire room. “What do you think? Do you like it?”
“Indeed I do,” was his enthusiastic response. “You’ve done wonders with the place, and in only one week’s time.”
She sat down then. “Thank you, sir,” she replied sweetly. “I’m so glad you like it.” She placed a hand on his forearm and gave him a gentle squeeze. “That is my intent, to please you.” She paused before adding, “In every way.”
Watching from the far end of the bar, Jack chuckled to himself as he watched his sister work. That old fool, he thought. She’ll have him following her around like a puppy dog. “Careful now,” he heard Tower say, “you might wanna be careful what you say to an elderly man like me.” Jack snorted, amused. Even he was sharp enough to recognize Tower’s remark as a cautious probe from a hopeful old man. Sic him, Roberta! She did.
“Why, Raymond,” she replied, “you’re hardly what I would call elderly.” She cocked an eyebrow and bestowed a smile dripping in honey upon him. “Besides, I find older men much more attractive than younger inexperienced boys. Don’t you find that most women do?”
Am I seeing something that isn’t really there? Tower asked himself. She’s just toying with a gullible old man. But he could not deny that she was stirring feelings inside him that had long ago deteriorated. It was not exactly her words that fanned the dying embers in his brain. It was more the tone and inflection of her voice that led him to question her meaning. He was about to decide that he had led himself into wishful thinking—until her next suggestion.
“Are you staying in the hotel tonight?” she asked. When he said that he was, she continued. “I’ve got some papers that I want you to sign, but they’re not quite ready. They just say that I’m authorized to act on behalf of us both.” She placed her hand on his arm again. “Some men don’t think a woman can order supplies or whiskey. This will just make my job easier.” When he nodded his understanding, she said, “Why don’t I bring them over to the hotel tonight? They should be ready to sign by then.”
“Fine!” he blurted in excitement. “Fine! That would be fine! What time?”
“Why don’t we meet for dinner? Say, seven o’clock. Then we can go up to your room to take care of our little business.”
“Excellent!” he replied at once. Never before had those three little words, our little business, held such sensual emotions. “I look forward to it.”
“Good,” she said, getting up from her chair. “Now, I’m afraid I’ve got things to do to get this place ready for our customers. Are you staying to supervise?”
“No,” he answered quickly. “I’ve got some things to take care of myself here in town. I’ll meet you in the dining room of the hotel at seven.” The pressing business that he had to take care of, and the only thing on his mind at the moment, was to buy some new underwear to replace the ragged long johns he was wearing.
She took his arm and walked him to the door. When he had gone, she turned to find her brother walking toward her, grinning like a dog that had gotten the last bone. Before he could comment, she said, “I want you to be where I can find you later on. I’m gonna need you to help me tonight.”
“It’d be my pleasure,” he replied grandly.
“Don’t do it right away,” she said. “Wait till later this afternoon.”
“All right, boss.” He emphasized the word boss with a bit of sarcasm. It didn’t occur to him that by Roberta having him ask about Tower’s room, if it became an issue later on, she would not be the one who had inquired.
At a few minutes before seven, Roberta gave Jack instructions to wait on the porch until she came out to let him know she and Tower were going up to his room. “I’ll make sure the door is unlocked so you can slip in. And make sure nobody sees you. I might be able to get the job done myself, but I don’t want to take any chances. The old fart might be stronger than he looks.” When she was sure he knew his part, she left him and went to meet Tower in the dining room.
Raymond was already seated at a small table in the corner of the room. He rose to his feet when he saw her come in. Probably been here half an hour, she thought as she affected a smile for him. Although he was wearing the same coat and trousers, she noticed that he wore a new shirt. The thought brought a smile to her face. “I hope I’m not late,” she said.
“No, no, not at all,” he was quick to reply. After she was seated, he said, “I saw your brother sitting in one of the rockers on the porch. Do you want me to ask him to join us?” He hoped with all his heart that she did not.
“No,” she said, giving his arm that little squeeze that had set his mind off on thoughts of fantasy before. “It’s nicer if it’s just the two of us.” He was thoroughly caught in her web.
Dinner would have been more pleasant for Raymond Tower had it not been for the fact that his nerves had killed his appetite. That and an irritating itch from the new underwear he had purchased, along with the shirt, caused him to squirm perceptively in his chair. All the while he could not bring his mind away from the notion that he was too old to be entertaining thoughts of romantic conquests. She pretended not to notice his nervousness, keeping the conversation light and cheerful while painting a picture for him of the future of their successful union. When the meal was finished, she brought out her sheaf of papers, but looked around her as if annoyed. “Let’s go up to your room to take care of this,” she suggested. “I don’t like to do business in a public dining room.” He of course immediately agreed. “Why don’t you go on up ahead of me?” she said then. “We don’t want to cause any gossip.” He was glad to do as she asked. He told her his room number and left immediately. She waited until he had disappeared up the stairs, then walked out the front door to the porch where Jack was waiting. “Give me about twenty minutes,” she said. “He’s in room 220.”
“I thought it might be a bit chilly this evening,” she said when she entered Raymond’s room, “but I clearly didn’t need this jacket.” She slowly removed the garment, giving special attention to each button. It might as well have been a striptease for Raymond, as his excitement increased as each one came free. Gazing at her in the tight blouse, the old gentleman was already too far gone to worry about details in the agreement she brought with her. “Let’s go ahead and get this silly business out of the way, so we can relax. It amounts to nothing more than authorization for me to purchase supplies for the bar without your signature.” She placed the papers before him and handed him a pen, standing so close over him that he could feel her breast brushing against his shoulder. “Good,” she said after he hurriedly signed his share of the saloon over to her. “Now we can relax and get to know each other a little better.”
Scarcely able to believe his good fortune, he watched her as she removed her skirt and blouse, then went to the door. “Let’s make sure the door is locked,” she said. “We don’t want to be disturbed.” He thought he had locked it when they came in, but he guessed that he must have been too nervous to be sure. Still in her petticoat, she moved close to him. “Don’t you want to take off that
coat? It’s warm in here.” She leaned forward and kissed him then. He was a dead man.
She had no trouble getting him stripped of all his clothing except his new underwear while she remained in her petticoat. At her suggestion, he got into the bed and lay on his back as she playfully kissed his weathered face and permitted him to grope a little, all the while wondering when Jack was going to bolt through the door. Finally she felt she could tolerate the old man’s childlike attempts to make love to her no longer and decided to make her move without her brother’s assistance. As her victim lay there gasping for air in his excitement, she suddenly grabbed the pillow and pressed it violently over his face. Confused, he did not resist for a few seconds until he realized that he couldn’t breathe. In a moment of panic then, he tried to fight for his life. The harder he struggled, the harder she pressed the pillow into his face. It was not as easy as she had envisioned. The old man had strength when the situation was desperate to the point of saving his life. He fought with everything he had, and he was at the point of turning the tide when Jack finally arrived. “Where the hell have you been?” Roberta demanded. “This old bastard is a tough old bird.”
“I didn’t wanna spoil your fun,” Jack replied. Tower was no match for the two of them, and after a little fight, he finally lay still. “I don’t believe he wanted to go,” Jack joked. Then he looked at his sister, standing beside the bed, still in her petticoat. “You didn’t even let the old buzzard get a look.”
Ignoring his attempts at humor, she said, “Let’s get him looking comfortable.”
After Jack helped her straighten the body, Roberta pulled the covers over him and tucked him in. When she was finished, she stepped back and took a hard look at the late Raymond Tower. Satisfied that when the hotel staff found him, he would appear to have passed away peacefully in his sleep, she gave Jack further instructions while she slipped back into her clothes. “Crack that door a little and see if there’s anyone in the hall. We can’t let anyone see us coming out of this room.”
Thunder Over Lolo Pass Page 21
