by Linda Broday
He started on one side and worked his way around the room that reeked of unwashed bodies, filthy clothes, and sour beer. He didn’t spy her anywhere. A glance upstairs turned his feet in that direction. He weaved through the kissing couples and reached the landing. A narrow hallway revealed rooms on each side.
Luke started down the row, stopping at each to glance in. They were all occupied with men and their partners for the night, doing what came natural.
A struggle seemed to come from the room on the right. He opened the door and found a man looming over Josie with his fist drawn back.
Her pretty dress was torn.
Red streaks blinded Luke’s vision. He grabbed the piece of walking cow dung and slung him into the hallway, then hauled him up by the shirtfront, driving his fist into his belly. The man grunted and doubled over. Screams from the fleeing couples echoed through the confined, airless space.
The man launched to his feet and landed a blow to Luke’s jaw. He reacted with an uppercut that knocked the man backward into the room they’d started in.
Luke had drawn back to hit him again when the man suddenly crumpled to the floor. Josie stood over him, holding a whiskey bottle by the neck.
A glance at the unconscious man had Luke doing a double take. He stared into the face of one of Reno’s men. A wide sombrero rested on the floor nearby. Had the bully recognized Josie and been trying to snatch her for Reno?
He had to get her out of here. Luke pulled her dress together. Holding her close to his side, he located the back stairs and stumbled out into the starry night. He didn’t stop until they reached the hotel and the safety of Josie’s room.
Neither spoke a word as he handed her a wet cloth. She looked at him with unseeing eyes, her thoughts somewhere else.
He scrubbed the blood from his hands and sat next to her. “You scared me tonight,” he said quietly. “Probably the worst I’ve been in a long, long while. When I saw that no-good two-bit drunk about to hit you…and your pretty dress torn…” Words didn’t exist to describe his anger. His hands still shook. Although he couldn’t claim her, no one was going to hurt Josie.
“Why did you go back there?”
Josie met his gaze. “I had to. I know I lived there at one time and I wanted to find some proof so I wouldn’t think I’d gone mad. So you’d believe me.”
“Did you discover anything?”
She pulled from her pocket a length of black velvet with a cameo attached and handed it to him. “Turn it over.”
He did and found the word Josie scratched into the silver back. “What do you think this means?”
“That I was there. Beyond that, I haven’t a clue.”
Or maybe the necklace belonged to another Josie. Other women had the same name. Luke couldn’t bring himself to point that out. He couldn’t destroy her hope.
“Where exactly did you find it?” he asked.
“That was rather odd. I heard voices outside the door. When I pressed myself against the wall, I stepped on a loose board. I pulled it up and found the cameo underneath.” Josie laid her head on his shoulder. “Who am I, Luke? I can’t bear to think I lived there. I hate that place. It’s dark and dirty with such horrible people inside. That man grabbed me and almost…”
She shuddered, apparently picturing what she narrowly escaped. “If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. He might’ve killed me.”
Luke put his arm around her. “But I did. If I hadn’t found you in the saloon, I’d have torn this town apart looking for you.”
“I’m glad.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’d have searched for you too. We’ve shared so much in a short time.”
“Did the bastard say anything to you?” he asked.
“Just something about how glad he was to find me.”
So, it wasn’t a random thing. Reno was looking for Josie.
“It’s late. We’ll talk about this in the morning. I’ll go so you can get ready for bed,” he said.
Panic filled her gaze. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”
“I’ll be back in a bit.” He moved to the door.
“Luke, I’m sorry I went to the Lucky Lady after you’d asked me to stay put.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I thought I could handle whatever came. I learned differently. But I’m not sorry I went. I have what I sought.”
“I know. Maybe you can rest easy tonight.”
Maybe he would too—if he found Reno Kidd. He’d turn this town upside down this night. Ridding Josie of that scum would bring pleasure.
He closed the door but stood there lost in thought, wrestling with himself, wondering if she knew he’d sell his soul for another night with her.
* * *
Back at the Lucky Lady, Luke strolled around the room full of drunks and gamblers, looking for Sombrero, a man with a shot-off ear, or Reno.
A saloon girl clung to his arm, pressing herself against him. She tugged the dress that was already riding off her shoulders even lower. “I can show you a good time, cowboy.”
Luke stared into eyes lined with something thick and black, saw her red lips that nature had taken no part in. Lost hope was etched on her face and in her lackluster eyes. She could be any age. Saloons aged a woman fast. Whatever her story was, whatever had happened to land her in this predicament, all her dreams had shriveled to nothing. The woman was dead inside just as Luke had been until a chance encounter had brought Josie into his life.
“Sorry, ma’am. Just looking for someone,” Luke answered.
She shrugged. “Maybe I can help?”
Luke fished a shiny gold eagle from his pocket, pressing it into her hand. He described Reno and his men. “Have you seen them?”
“Sure. All three. But you just missed them. They lit out of here about ten minutes ago. They’re a mean bunch. The yellow-haired bastard hurt one of our girls bad.”
Disappointment burned a path through him.
“What’s your name?”
“Alice,” came her soft answer.
“I appreciate your help, Alice.” Luke took out two more coins.
“No,” she said, refusing. “I can’t take more.”
He reached for her hand and dropped the silver dollars onto her palm. “Buy yourself something pretty. And use the rest to buy a ticket out of here on the next stage.”
“That’s real kind, but it’s too late.”
“Take it from me, it’s never too late for second chances.” Luke turned and bumped into Clay Colby of all people. The gunslinger looked worse than the last time Luke had seen him a month or two ago. Memories washed over him of how he’d fought by Clay’s side when they’d helped Houston drive a thousand longhorns up the trail to Dodge City. Men didn’t come better than Clay.
They found a corner and sat down to talk. “What are you doing in Medicine Springs?” Luke asked.
“Passing through.” Loneliness haunted Clay’s eyes as he rolled a cigarette. “One place is as good as the next. Don’t dare find a good woman and settle down. Tried that. Didn’t work. Men won’t let folks like you and me have a minute’s peace.”
“I’m going to keep fighting for better to the last breath. We’re not quitters, Clay.”
The gunfighter tugged his hat low on his forehead and dragged his attention from a hard-faced man who’d just entered the saloon. “Why are you here, Weston?”
Luke filled him in on Josie—her memory loss, and the attack a little while ago.
The bones in Clay’s face seemed to turn to stone. Dark anger glittered in the famed gunslinger’s eyes. “Nothing makes me madder than someone hurting a woman or child. I’ll help you find the bastards if they’re still here and we’ll get some justice.”
With Clay’s help, Luke spent the next hour searching for his quarry. Finally, he woke the livery man, who said
Reno and his men had just ridden out.
After parting company with Clay, Luke stood in the deep shadows outside the hotel until the light in Josie’s window went out. He should sleep in the loft of the livery, he told himself. That was the wise thing to do.
But he and smart thinking seemed to have parted ways.
Josie’s plea not to leave her alone tonight pulled him inside.
* * *
Somewhere around midnight, Josie awakened, reaching for Luke. Finding the bed empty, she realized she’d only dreamed of him lying next to her, his muscular arm across her stomach, his breath ruffling the hair at her ear.
His scent had been so vivid in her dream, that of leather and wild Texas sage, swirling around her.
She rolled over and gave a start. Luke sat unmoving in a chair by the window. He’d tilted back in his seat, his feet propped on the windowsill, staring out into the night.
In the moon’s rays streaming through the open window, his face seemed to have been chiseled from granite.
Gone was the sensitive, caring Luke, replaced by someone she didn’t recognize. A man forged of rock and steel rather than flesh and blood.
Although she would never be scared of him, she could see why others feared him. The mere mention of his name shot terror into men’s hearts. She recalled Reno’s accomplices right after Luke found her and how they’d reacted to his name. Josie smiled. They’d stumbled over their own feet to get far away. And she’d seen both fear and respect at Doan’s Crossing.
Hoarse, whispered curses reached her and she knew Luke was quietly whipping himself over some failing. Or perhaps blaming himself for not protecting her from the attacker at the Lucky Lady. The man who’d made love to her so expertly was haunted by the past, the present riddled with demons, and a future he couldn’t see worth living. She ached for her Texas outlaw.
Only he was no longer hers. Unshed tears filled her eyes. Luke had been hers for just a short while. But probably never again.
Lara had been wrong. Ignoring him, telling him how she felt, loving him—nothing Josie did made any difference.
What they’d once found was over with only a few memories to treasure—the time she’d lain in his arms and he’d murmured princesa in her ear, as though she was someone he cherished.
Josie swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing she could go to him. That he’d welcome her if she did. But he was more than likely to turn her away and she couldn’t take being spurned yet again. So she lay still, clutching the cameo from a place in her past. Another piece to fit into the puzzle.
Would she always be a cluster of tiny pieces, never a whole again?
She watched Luke with an aching heart until the long night ended and dawn filtered into the room like a silent thief.
When he tiptoed from the room, she rose. Her gaze landed on her blue dress and her stomach plummeted. In the light of day, it looked even worse than she’d thought. Somehow she had to salvage it. To look like Luke’s princess one last time would be worth anything.
She’d go talk to Newt Granger to repay the Legend family’s kindness, then ride away and never look back.
If she could just manage to save the Lone Star, maybe…just maybe she had the strength to save herself too.
Twenty-seven
Josie eased the buggy carefully toward a group of armed men blocking the road. Thankfully, these were not the same ones who stopped them before. She glanced at Luke, dressed this time in the fancy clothes of a Mexican vaquero, riding beside her. Thanks ran through her that he’d insisted on coming. His confident nod bolstered her courage. She said a silent prayer that their visit with Newt Granger would end well.
If it didn’t…she didn’t want to think about failure.
The dangerous visit would test her. She still didn’t know what she’d say, and hoped something came to her.
Thank goodness for Luke’s scruffy look. He’d traded his fancy trousers with the conchas for a plain pair this morning, and now, he tugged his black Stetson down low with a thumb and forefinger to further shield his eyes.
She glanced down at the bodice of her pretty blue dress. No one would be able to detect the mend. Luke had left the hotel early this morning and returned with needles and thread. While not an exact match, the shade of thread worked well enough and she’d completed the repair in no time.
Josie adjusted the large, white-plumed hat that Luke had bought her that morning. She’d arranged her hair in a style befitting an elegant lady, a few loose tendrils floating around her face, and felt beautiful and self-assured. Not someone who had no memory, no past.
A surly man with a rifle hollered, “Turn back around!”
Pasting on a bright smile, Josie pleaded, “Please, I came to speak to Mr. Granger. My name is Josie Morgan. It’s a matter of great importance.”
Another of the group stepped forward, swinging his Winchester toward Luke. “Who’s with you?”
Luke adapted a relaxed pose and propped his arm on the pommel. “I’m Rafael.” He quirked an eyebrow at her before finishing. “Montoya. Her escort.”
The man squinted and showed his yellow teeth. “Did Granger hire you too?”
“Not yet.”
Josie flashed her very best smile and batted her lashes. “I wired Mr. Granger that I was coming.”
“He don’t get telegrams out here.” The surly man spat on the ground.
“It’s just that I came so far.” Josie sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “All the way from St. Louis.” She released a sob. “I simply can’t go back without speaking to Mr. Granger. It would break my heart.”
“Wait here.” The guard huddled with the others in a discussion, and after a minute, he spoke. “Come ahead.”
“Oh, thank you, sir. This is good news.” She dabbed her fake tears with the handkerchief and turned to Luke. “See, Rafael? I told you everything would work out.”
“Yes, you did, Miss Morgan,” Luke replied, not looking at her. He stared intently at the armed group. Josie prayed again that no one recognized him.
A grim-faced man on horseback led the way. Josie fanned the dust from her face and glanced at the rocky, inhospitable land. It didn’t seem good for much of anything. No wonder Granger wanted the Lone Star. How did he make a living? She saw no cattle or anything—just dry, withered-up land.
About three miles up the road, they came to a stop in front of a sprawling, white adobe dwelling. Three men with rifles stared at her and Luke.
Newt Granger was livid as he stormed out. “What are you doing, Fisher? I told you no visitors.”
The surly rider motioned to Josie. “She said it’s important that she talk to you, boss. I thought you’d want to see what she’s gotta say. A pretty lady like her don’t just come calling without a reason.”
Josie studied Granger from beneath her lashes. Stoker had hit the nail on the head—the man was a sawed-off runt. Granger probably had to stretch to reach her nose. The louse would probably stare at her bosom instead of her face. He snapped his suspenders, sticking his thumbs in them and stuck out his chest as he hurried toward her. The breeze made his wavy red hair stand up straight.
“Miss, I’m very busy,” Granger said. “You’ll have to come back after I whip Stoker Legend—”
Josie widened her eyes, blinked several times, and flashed a smile. “Hello, Mr. Granger,” she purred. “I didn’t know you’d be so sinfully handsome. I’m Miss Josie Morgan of the St. Louis Morgans. Perhaps you’ve heard of us,” she purred, trying to take in all the details to include in her report to Stoker. It was laughable how quickly Granger accepted that she came from people of importance when nothing was further from the truth.
A quick glance caught Luke rolling his eyes. If he could do better, he was welcome to take over.
Granger took her hand. “Morgans, Morgans,” he muttered. “Oh yes, I know them
well.” He beamed. “I’m a very lucky man today indeed, Miss Morgan. Please come inside.”
“I don’t want to interrupt. I know you’re quite busy.” Josie found that protesting what she most wanted seemed to make Granger dance to the music even more. She filed that fact away to maybe use another time.
“I’m never too busy for a pretty lady. No, sir.” He helped her from the buggy and flicked his gaze to Luke. “Who is this with you? Please don’t say he’s your intended.”
“Oh, good heaven’s no. He’s my escort.” She saw the man comparing her fair coloring with Luke’s light brown and quickly added, “My father hired him.” Josie sighed deeply. “This country is simply too dangerous to travel alone. Outlaws everywhere just waiting to ambush an unsuspecting lady and steal her valuables. Rafael insisted on escorting me.”
As she’d predicted, Granger’s eyes never raised from her bosom and the low neckline of her dress. “What a shame to have harm come to someone with your beauty, Miss Josie. Getting waylaid is scary. I’m glad you didn’t have trouble.”
She walked through the door he held open. “Oh, but I did, Mr. Granger.” She clutched a hand to her chest. “I came face-to-face with outlaws brandishing weapons. It was most distressing.”
Newt patted her hand. “I’m sure. A delicate flower such as you shouldn’t have to cope with such lawlessness.”
“It appears you have a war going on here, sir. I’ve never seen so many armed men.” She took in the peeling wallpaper, the broken chandelier in the entry, and discolored floors. She knew exactly how to appeal to him.
“I regret that Stoker Legend has made all this necessary,” Newt murmured.
“Let’s not discuss these horrible subjects any further. It’s most upsetting.” After checking to make sure Luke followed, she strolled into the parlor on Granger’s arm. “Oh, what a lovely room. Your wife has exquisite taste.” She stretched the truth, of course. It had the same peeling wallpaper and floors in need of a broom.
“My dear, there is no missus. I’m quite available should the right woman come along.” Granger winked and smiled bigger. He released his hold to spit into his palm and smooth his hair down. She sat on the sofa, spreading her voluminous skirts around her, desperate to keep away from his disgusting hands.
