Tucker watched Lacey approach her husband’s table carrying a bottle of whiskey and four glasses. He had bought a new dress for her to wear, and she looked ravishing. The dress was black satin, low-cut, tight at the waist and flaring over her hips. J.J. Tucker felt a hard knot of jealousy form in the pit of his stomach as Lacey bent and placed a quick kiss on her husband’s cheek.
Matt happened to glance up just then and his gaze met Tucker’s. There was no mistaking the jealousy lurking in J.J. Tucker’s eyes, no doubt that Tucker found Lacey desirable. Matt’s face went hard and his eyes flashed a warning that was not lost on Tucker. With a shrug and a tight little smile, the saloon owner went to the bar and poured himself a shot of bourbon.
Matt took a deep breath. Sooner or later there was going to be trouble between himself and Tucker. He had seen the way J.J.’s eyes followed Lacey. Often when they talked, J.J. found an excuse to touch her. Sometimes it was just a brief pat on the back, sometimes he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her an encouraging squeeze when she was having a rough night. Lacey thought Tucker was just being friendly. But Matt knew better. J.J. had no interest in being Lacey’s friend. He wanted her, wanted her in the way a man wanted a woman.
It was after midnight when the crowd thinned out and the saloon grew reasonably quiet. Lacey was sitting beside Mort, the piano player, chatting amiably while he played a melancholy ballad. Matt was relaxing at the card table playing solitaire when three men entered the saloon. He felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach as the men made their way to his table and sat down. They were all there, the three men who had accused him of gunning down Billy Henderson.
Matt felt his mouth go dry as he shuffled the cards.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” asked Toby Pitman.
Matt nodded warily. He remembered Pitman from the trial. Pitman had been the most vocal of Matt’s accusers, his words of condemnation so positive, so forceful, they had erased any doubt the jury might have had.
Pitman grunted. “You look familiar. Haven’t I seen you in town before?”
“I doubt it,” Matt answered. He dealt the cards, his fingers swift and sure.
Pitman grunted again. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it.”
“Any particular reason?”
Matt shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”
Lige Tanner cleared his throat. “We always like to have a friendly game, that’s all. My name’s Lige. This here hombre is Raoul Gonzalez, and that’s Toby Pitman. We work for the Rocking W Ranch. Toby’s the ramrod.”
Matt nodded. “My name’s Walker.”
They played the rest of the hand without talking much except to raise or call. Tanner won the hand, and his grin spread from ear to ear as he raked in the pot.
Matt studied the three men carefully during the next hour. Toby Pitman was a heavy bettor, and a poor loser. His eyes were pale blue and sharp in a hawk-like face. He had arms like trees and the biggest hands Matt had ever seen. Lige Tanner was a young man with sandy-colored hair and brown eyes. He was a poor player, for his eyes easily telegraphed whether his cards were good or bad. Raoul Gonzalez rarely spoke. He was a conservative player, not easily bluffed out of a hand, but not given to take chances, either.
Matt caught Pitman staring at him time and again, his eyes thoughtful, and Matt knew that Toby Pitman was trying to recall where he’d seen the gambler before.
They played until one o’clock, and then, at a word from Pitman, the three men left the saloon.
Matt let out a long sigh as he watched the three cowhands leave the building. It wouldn’t be long before Pitman remembered where he’d seen Matt, and then all hell would likely break loose.
“You look troubled,” Lacey remarked, coming up behind Matt and placing her hands on his shoulders. “Is anything wrong?”
“Time’s running out,” Matt remarked. “I’ve got to find out who killed Billy Henderson before Toby Pitman remembers where we’ve met.” He shuffled the cards, and each time the ace of spades appeared on top. But he wasn’t thinking about cards. He was thinking about the night young Billy Henderson had been killed, trying to recall exactly what had happened. He stared at the painting on the wall behind the bar. He had been sitting at the last table in the back of the room that night, alone. Pitman, Gonzalez, and Tanner had been standing at the far end of the bar with Billy Henderson. They’d all been drinking heavily and they got louder and more obnoxious with each drink. The bartender had asked them to hold it down, but they had just laughed and told him to mind his own business. Matt recalled that Henderson had started bragging about how good he was with a gun…
“Matt, let’s go home.”
“Right.” Dropping the cards on the table, Matt picked up his hat and coat and they left the saloon.
“My feet are killing me,” Lacey said as they walked down the boardwalk toward the hotel.
“Why don’t you quit that damn job?” Matt asked gruffly. “I hate seeing you in that damn saloon every night, watching men leer at you like you were a piece of fresh meat for sale.”
“It’s not like that,” Lacey protested. “Most of them are very respectful.”
“They may act respectful,” Matt retorted, “but they’re all wishing they could haul you upstairs for a quick ten minutes in the sack.”
“Matt!”
“It’s true and you know it.”
Lacey stared at Matt, her mouth making a little moue of surprise. She had known all along that Matt didn’t approve of her working in the Black Horse Saloon, but he’d never been quite so angry about it before.
“What’s really bothering you?” Lacey asked.
Matt let out a long breath and some of the tension he had been feeling all night drained out of him. “It’s Tucker. His eyes follow every move you make.”
“J.J.? He’s never said or done anything out of line. Not once.”
“He’s thinking it, though.” Matt came to an abrupt halt as they neared the alley near their hotel. “Hush,” he whispered, and his voice was low and urgent.
“What is it?” Lacey whispered back.
“I think we’re being followed. You go across the street and keep walking toward the hotel.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t have time to explain now. Just do what I said.”
He gave her a little push, and then, in a loud angry voice, he said, “You little tramp! If I catch you flirting again, I’ll take my belt to your backside.”
He started walking again, then ducked into the alley, his head cocked to one side as he listened for some sound to indicate he was still being followed.
A dark silhouette appeared at the mouth of the alley, paused a moment, and then started walking again. On catlike feet, Matt stepped up behind the man and pressed his gun into his back. “You lookin’ for me?” he asked in a silky voice.
Lige Tanner shook his head vigorously. “No. I was just going home.”
“Really? When did the Rocking W take up residence in town?”
Lige Tanner swallowed hard. “I wasn’t going to the ranch. I was going to see my Ma. She lives over at the Adamses’ Boardinghouse.”
“Kind of late to be visiting, isn’t it?”
“She’s…she’s been sick. I been staying with her the last couple of days.”
“You’re lying,” Matt said quietly. “Why are you following me?”
“Pitman told me to. He told me to check the hotel register and see what name you’d used. He thinks he’s seen you before and it bothers him that he can’t remember where.”
“Why doesn’t he do his own bird doggin’?”
Tanner shrugged. “I dunno. He’s my boss and I do what he says. He don’t like questions.”
“You were in the saloon the night Billy Henderson was killed,” Matt said, jabbing his gun barrel a little deeper into Tanner’s back. “What happened?”
“A stranger gunned Billy down in cold blood.”
“He was drunk. The stranger, I mean. It might have been an accident, I don’t know.”
“Move it,” Matt said curtly. “Head back the way you came, and don’t look back.”
Tanner nodded, his mouth gone dry and his palms suddenly wet. Hands clenched at his sides, he retraced his steps, wondering if he was about to get a bullet in the back.
Matt stayed where he was, his eyes on Lige Tanner as the young man moved away from him. When Tanner reached the saloon, a dark figure fell into step beside him.
Matt frowned as he recognized J.J. Tucker. He didn’t leave the cover of the alley until both men were out of sight.
Lacey was waiting for him in the hotel lobby, her face pale. “Is everything all right?” she asked anxiously.
“Yeah. Let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”
In their room, Matt touched a match to the lamp, then sat on the edge of the bed watching Lacey undress. She moved with a feminine grace that was sheer delight to watch, and he smiled faintly, knowing she was being deliberately provocative in an attempt to take his mind off their troubles. And it was working. Matt’s throat went dry as she slipped out of her dress, then slid her undergarments off, slowly, enticingly, until she stood before him clad in black net stockings and garter belt. He felt his heart begin to pound as she unfastened her stockings and slid them over her legs, removed the garter belt, and then slid into bed, patting the place beside her in silent invitation.
“Hussy,” Matt growled, and quickly shedding his own clothes, he slid into bed beside her.
Her skin was soft and warm, her lips eager and willing. His hands moved in the wealth of her hair, loving the way the long silky strands curled around his fingers as though they had a life of their own. He slid his hands over her back and shoulders, traced the outline of her hips and softly rounded fanny. She was here and she was his and for a few brief moments he forgot everything but the wonder of her touch and the joy of possessing her.
It was only later, when Lacey was sleeping peacefully beside him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her arm draped over his chest, her legs tangled with his, that Matt’s thoughts again grew troubled. He had been a fool to bring Lacey back to Salt Creek. If he couldn’t clear his name, he would likely wind up dead or in jail. In either case, Lacey would be left alone and J.J. Tucker would close in on her like a wolf on the scent of fresh blood. Tucker. There was no doubt that the man wanted Lacey. Damn him.
Matt gazed into the darkness. Lige Tanner, Toby Pitman, Raoul Gonzalez. Which one had killed Billy Henderson, and why? That’s what he needed to know, and soon. Before Pitman put two and two together and remembered where he’d seen Matt before. And what about Tucker? Where did he fit into the puzzle? Was it possible J.J. had killed Billy Henderson? But that was ridiculous. What reason would he have had for killing Susanne’s boyfriend? What reason could he have had for meeting Lige Tanner in a dark alley late at night? Questions, nothing but questions and no answers.
Tanner, Pitman, and Gonzalez showed up at the Black Horse every night for the next three nights. And every night they sat at Matt’s table.
Trying to get on my nerves, Matt mused grimly. And it was working. Pitman watched his every move, his eyes wary, speculative, as he tried to place where he’d seen Matt before.
For the hell of it, Matt dealt the cards so that Pitman lost every hand. Tanner and Gonzalez kidded Toby about his bad luck until Pitman slammed a meaty fist down on the table. Tanner’s drink sloshed over the side of his glass and made a dark stain on the green baize top.
“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with luck,” Pitman growled, his pale blue eyes boring into Matt’s. “Maybe it’s got something to do with who’s dealin’ the cards.”
“You calling me a card cheat?” Matt asked, his voice mild.
“Damn right!”
“I reckon you’d have to prove it.”
“I’ll prove it. Let me have a look at that deck.”
With a shrug, Matt pushed the cards toward Pitman, smiling indulgently as the man examined the cards one by one.
“What seems to be the trouble here?” Tucker demanded in a low voice.
Matt pushed away from the table, his hand dropping to his lap. “This man thinks I’m cheating.”
“Are you?”
“Of course not,” Matt replied, and the lie rolled easily off his tongue.
“If you aren’t happy at this table, move to another one,” Tucker advised Pitman. “I don’t want any trouble in here.”
“He’s cheating, I tell you,” Pitman insisted.
Tucker reached into his jacket and pulled out a new deck of cards. “Here, open this one yourself, Toby. It’s a fresh deck. The seal hasn’t been broken.”
Pitman took the deck and checked the seal, then slid his thumbnail under the seal, breaking it. He shuffled the cards and dealt them. Matt almost laughed out loud when he picked up his cards. He had a pair of aces and a pair of queens. Pitman’s face was livid when he lost the hand to Matt.
Later, at home, Lacey shook her head as Matt told her what had happened. “Even when he does his own dealing, he can’t win,” Matt said, laughing. “You should have seen the look on his face when I raked in the pot.”
“I did,” Lacey said soberly. “He looked like he wanted to kill you.”
“I think he does, Lacey girl. I think he does.”
“Then what are you laughing at?”
“Damned if I know,” Matt said, the laughter dying in his throat.
“Matt, why don’t we leave this place?”
“And go where? I can’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, never knowing when someone will try to collect on that wanted poster. I can’t live like that, Lacey, and I certainly can’t expect you to.”
“Matt.”
Something in her tone of voice made his heart pound. “What is it, honey?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant!” His eyes moved to her stomach. It was still flat, and his eyes lifted to her face. Slowly he shook his head, not wanting to believe her. They didn’t need a baby to complicate matters, not now. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please, let’s get out of here now, before it’s too late. I want my baby to have a father.”
“Lacey, I can’t leave, not now. Please try to understand.”
“We could go to Kansas.”
“Kansas!” Matt exclaimed. “What the hell would we do in Kansas?”
Lacey held up a letter she had received from her father that day. “‘I’m sending this to Salt Creek in the hopes it will find you there eventually,’” she read. “‘The Apache were rounded up and sent to the reservation. Blue Willow didn’t like it there and so we went to Kansas.’” Lacey looked up at Matt. “He says we’re more than welcome to join them. We could lead a normal life, make a home for our baby.”
It was tempting, Matt mused. Damned tempting, but he couldn’t spend the rest of his life pretending he was someone else, couldn’t rest until he knew who had killed the Henderson boy and why.
“Please, Matt.”
“I can’t, Lacey,” he said wearily. “I just can’t.”
She swallowed the sob that rose in her throat. Why was he being so stubborn? How could finding out who killed Billy Henderson be more important than the life they could have together, more important than their child? Hurt and angry, she turned away from him, tears burning her eyes.
Matt mouthed a vague obscenity as he stared at Lacey’s back. Her slight shoulders were shaking as she fought the urge to cry. Almost, he changed his mind, but then he thought of the child Lacey carried beneath her heart. He had to clear his name, if not for his own sake, then for the sake of his child. He couldn’t go away with Lacey and settle down somewhere, always waiting for the day when a bounty hunter or a lawman might discover who he was. He couldn’t live with a price on his head, couldn’t let his son grow up in the shadow of his unsettled past.
; “Maybe you should go to Kansas,” Matt suggested.
“Alone?” Lacey asked in a small voice.
“Yeah. Maybe it would be for the best, for now.”
Lacey nodded. Don’t send me away, Matt, her heart cried in anguish. I don’t want to live without you. “Maybe it would be for the best,” she said, her voice sounding loud in her ears.
“It’s something to think about,” Matt said hoarsely, and wondered why he was hurting her, why he was hurting himself. She didn’t want to leave him, he knew that, and he didn’t want her to go. But the words had been said and he couldn’t call them back. And perhaps it would be for the best. There was going to be bloodshed before the trouble between himself and Pitman was settled, and he didn’t want Lacey to get caught in the crossfire.
Turning, Lacey placed her hand on Matt’s arm, determined to make him see things her way. “Matt, please forget about finding Billy Henderson’s killer. We’ve been here for months and we’re no closer to finding out who killed him than we ever were.”
“Pitman killed him,” Matt replied stonily. “All I have to do is find a way to prove it.”
“And what if you get yourself killed in the meantime?” Lacey cried. “What then?”
“I’m sure J.J. will take good care of you,” Matt retorted. “He’s had his eye on you ever since the first day we arrived. And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed! I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?”
“I’ve never looked at anyone but you,” Lacey said, her voice like frost. “And you know it.”
“Like hell! I’ve seen how the two of you huddle close around the bar when business is slow. I’ve seen how you smile at him, how he looks at you.”
Lacey stared at Matt, unable to believe her ears. “You’re crazy,” she said coldly. “J.J. has nothing to do with this.”
LaceysWay Page 22
