“Whatever gave you the idea you were tame?”
His lips tightened. “I mean it. When we do a job, we do the job; we get paid; we leave. We don’t make nice with the populace. We aren’t fit for decent company and haven’t been for quite a while.”
She removed her arm from his hand, still feeling the imprint of warm fingers along her skin despite the green material that separated her flesh from his. “You make it sound as if you’ve brought ravening wolves to Rock Creek.”
He stared at her for a long moment, sorrow in his eyes. Then he reached out and gently pushed a stray curl from her cheek. She hadn’t realized her hair still hung loose and wild.
“But I have,” he murmured, and left her alone with the approaching night.
Chapter 5
When Reese walked into the Rock Creek Hotel, he discovered his men huddled around a single table in the kitchen, shoveling food into their mouths like the wolves he’d just characterized them as.
Perhaps he’d been a bit harsh. They weren’t quite that rabid—or at least most of them weren’t. Sometimes Reese wondered what trouble Cash got into when he wasn’t around to keep the man from getting bored.
After filling a bowl from the pot on the stove, Reese joined the others.
“So what did Miss Teacher have to say?” Cash smirked. “Or weren’t you talking?”
Reese kept eating. He didn’t have to answer to anyone—one of the few joys of being the leader.
“El capitan and the woman were just talking.”
“Since you had your damn nose pressed to the glass, I guess you’d know,” Jed said.
Reese raised his gaze to Rico’s. “Spying?” Rico shrugged. “I catch you tailing me, Kid, and I’ll kick you into the next county.”
Rico narrowed his eyes and caressed the knife at his waist. But what he said was “Yes, mi capitan.”
Reese nodded; then, when the other men returned their attention to their meals, he winked at Rico. The Kid winked back, his face as solemn as a casket maker.
Rico might flirt and joke, but he was dangerous. He looked to Reese for guidance, and Reese hated that, but he also knew that if he wasn’t the one, Rico might start to follow Cash around, and that would be bad.
“So what did you think about El Diablo?” Sullivan asked.
“What did you think?” Reese countered.
Everyone leaned back and peered at the half-breed scout. Sullivan always saw more than the rest of them, maybe because he shut up and looked.
“Somethin’ funny’s goin’ on here.”
“Funny how?”
“I don’t know, but that old Indian lies.”
Cash snorted. “Like that’s a surprise. No offense.”
Sullivan didn’t even glance at Cash. What would be the point? Cash hated everyone and everything—except drinking, gambling, loose women, and his five friends. But there wasn’t a man you’d rather have at your side if it came to a fight. That’s why they all ignored whatever he said when he was in a mood, which was pretty much all of the time.
“Lying about what?” Reese pressed.
“Wish I knew.”
“Me too.”
Jed lit a cigar, tilted back in his chair, and blew rings at the dirty ceiling. “What are you two thinking?”
Reese nodded for Sullivan to explain.
“There’s no reason for all those men to keep coming here and playing around.” Sullivan shrugged. “Men like that kill and run.”
Reese nodded. “They’re trying to get the town to die, but without murder, rape, or too much destruction. Goes against the grain for men like them. So I think they don’t want any attention coming this way.”
“Atencion?”
“From the law or the soldiers,” Reese explained.
“Isn’t much law in these parts since the war,” Jed observed. “They disbanded the Rangers, and since then the Comanches have done as they pleased. The soldiers’ hands are full enough without coming to Rock Creek just to chase bandits to the border. The army can’t go across, anyway.”
“I think El Diablo knows that. But why would he want this place so badly?”
“Gold? Silver?” Rico’s voice was eager. “Buried treasure?”
“Not in this two horse town,” Cash muttered.
“Well, it’s something,” Reese said. “And I’m gonna have to find out what.”
“Conveniently, the teacher lady with the voice like Virginia before she burned and breasts, no doubt, the shade of Georgia peaches is the one you’ll have to ask.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t be thinking about her breasts or anything else,” Reese said, low and dangerous.
Cash straightened the frilly lace on his cuffs. Only Daniel Cash could wear lace and not look like a pansy. Of course, even if he did, no one would dare to say so. “But you aren’t me, Reese, so I’m sure you’re thinking about her pretty, little—”
Reese stood, and the chair hit the floor with a clatter that echoed loudly in the sudden silence of the room.
Cash flicked his gaze from Reese’s hand on his gun to his face. Between the well-trimmed goatee and mustache, the gunman’s mouth smiled, but those eyes were dead, as always.
“Mind,” he finished. “I’m sure she has a brilliant and beautiful mind.”
A collective breath hissed about the room. Reese lowered his hand. “You just keep your mind on business, Cash, and there’ll be no trouble but what we make.”
“There never is, my friend. There never is.”
*
To Mary, the next day was the same as any other. And how could that be with six hired guns in town? One of whom looked like Satan’s fallen and kissed like paradise redeemed.
She needed to quit thinking about that kiss. It hadn’t meant anything. To use Reese’s vernacular, no man like him would kiss a woman like her and mean it. Something had upset him, then she’d touched him, angered him, and he’d kissed her because…
She had no idea. Mary had no experience with men—unless you counted priests, little boys, or the fathers of her students. Reese didn’t fit into any of those familiar categories.
So she needed to quit thinking about him and start concentrating on the recitations of her students. Every Tuesday, each child recited a Bible verse they’d picked to memorize. Not only did the task strengthen their minds; it soothed Reverend Clancy, who hadn’t wanted a woman of the Catholic persuasion teaching the children.
Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for Mary, no one else had applied for the position. Since she came dutifully to church every Sunday, he’d quit grumbling, at least in her presence, about the Irish papist invasion of Texas. She often wondered how a man with so little tolerance had ended up in his profession—and with a daughter as open-minded as Jo.
“The Lord is my sheep herd I shall not want. He made me lie down in green passages. He led me into the stilted waters and restorated my soul.”
Mary pursed her lips as Carrie Brown’s mangling of the Twenty-third Psalm at last penetrated her distracted mind. “Carrie, I think you’d better study that one again for next week. Restorated is a wonderful word, but I find it nowhere in Psalm Twenty-three.”
“What a dummy! Stilted isn’t in there either, Miss McKendrick,” Frank Sutton pointed out.
“Thank you, Frank. I’m aware of that.”
Mary turned to Carrie, who appeared ready to cry. “Never mind,” she said. “When I was six, I couldn’t even read Psalm Twenty-three, let alone memorize it.”
“Truly?”
In truth, she’d recited the psalm in question at the age of four. It was that or have the switch slapped across her palm—again. But staring into Carrie’s hopeful face, Mary lied without a qualm. “Truly. You’ll do fine next week.”
Carrie smiled, revealing a double gap in her front teeth that was so adorable, Mary wanted to pull her close and cuddle. But she wouldn’t. She was their teacher. She would never be their mother, or anyone else’s, and it hurt too much to touch what she’d ne
ver have.
With a sigh, Mary turned to Frank. “Since you seem to be well acquainted with that psalm, Frank, you may recite as the rest of the class leaves for the day.”
“Aw, Miss McKendrick, what did I do?”
The children filed out. Mary waited until they were gone before turning to Frank once more. “You made Carrie feel bad, and that is something we don’t do in my classroom.”
His lips tightened mutinously. Mary braced herself for another argument. The Sutton boys were getting to be a problem. What on earth would she do when she had bigger boys than these in her classroom? Most teachers resorted to physical violence to keep their older, rougher male charges in line. Mary just couldn’t.
“Frank Sutton,” she snapped before he could refuse. “Begin Psalm Twenty-three.”
“Yes, Frank…” The new voice made Mary glance up; she found Reese lounging in the doorway. “I haven’t heard the Twenty-third Psalm in far too long.”
The words tumbled out of Frank’s mouth so fast Mary could barely understand them. But as her mind caught up to the meaning, she was surprised, and pleased, to discover Frank had every word correct. Maybe he wouldn’t be in the nearest jail cell by the age of fifteen, after all.
Mary smiled at Reese, but he did not return the expression. Instead, he stalked down the aisle toward Frank like a predatory cat. Even though the boy annoyed her to no end, still Mary hurried forward to place herself between Reese and her student. Reese raised his eyebrow, amused.
” ‘In the house of the Lord forever,’ ” Frank finished. “May I go now, ma’am.”
“Again,” Reese ordered, his gaze on Mary.
“Huh?”
“Again and again and again, Mr. Sutton. Recite until I tell you to stop.” He glanced at Frank. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. The Lord is my shepherd…”
Reese took Mary’s arm and led her to the front of the room. “There’s a slight problem.”
“Problem? I didn’t hear the church bell.”
“Not that kind of problem. We went to the general store to get ammunition, and the man there wanted us to pay.” When Mary continued to stare at him, confused, he continued. “To pay money. Which we do not have, Miss McKendrick. Are you with me yet?”
“Uh, yes, certainly. I’ll take care of that.”
“Excellent”
Frank stumbled over a word. Mary glanced at him, but he gamely continued. Reese turned his head to the side and froze before his gaze reached Frank, then, as if it were a great effort, he turned back to Mary, pointedly ignoring the child. But the way he held his shoulders—tense and tight—one might have thought he expected Frank to shoot him—or worse.
Reese inched closer to Mary, as if to move away from the child behind him, and she caught the scent of lye soap. He’d bathed—somewhere. Lye was usually an unpleasant smell, but then, she’d never smelled it mixed with the scent of a man before. On Reese it was quite appealing, sharp but clean. He’d also changed his clothes, though at a glance you’d never know it.
He wore the same cut of black shirt, black vest, and black pants he’d had on yesterday. But this close, Mary could see stitching along his collar that had not graced yesterday’s choice, and this vest had two pockets, not one, while his pants were cotton instead of light wool.
“I’ve been waiting all day for school to let out.”
Her heart fluttered at the low, suggestive murmur of his voice, and she raised her gaze his face. “You have?”
He nodded. “I’ve got a few questions about El Diablo.”
Mary’s heart fell to the buttons on her boots. Silly old maid. Why would this man be waiting just for the pleasure of her company?
The sisters who had raised Mary never minced words. They’d believed in knowing your weaknesses so you could concentrate on your strengths. The truth, in Mary’s case, was that she was both plain and poor—not marriage material at all.
She was, however, smart, dependable, and sturdy—a perfect schoolteacher. Growing up in a convent had taught Mary to face the truth and never lie, at least to herself and God. And Sister Hortensia—but never mind that little incident.
“What did you want to know?”
“What is there in this town that El Diablo wants?”
“Food and whiskey.”
“It’s more than that. If he was just a lazy son of a bitch—”
“Reese! Watch your language in front of Frank.”
He glanced at the boy, who was on his fifteenth recitation. “Go,” he snapped, and when the child hesitated, “Go, go, go.” Reese flicked his hand at the door. Frank went—fast.
Mary contemplated Reese as he watched Frank run. The man dealt with children as if they were soldiers, and they listened. But he didn’t seem to like them much at all, and she couldn’t figure out why. What wasn’t there to like about children?
“There’s really no need to terrorize my students.”
“No? Well, I’ll have to stop. Getting back to El Diablo, if he was just lazy, then he’d also grab a few women while he was here, shoot a few men if he got the chance. He hasn’t, and that worries me.”
Mary gaped then snapped her mouth shut before Reese mentioned flies. “Worries you? We’ve got an outlaw who doesn’t rape and murder at will and that’s a bad thing?”
“It means he’s trying to keep the law and the army out of Rock Creek, and I have to wonder why. Was there ever gold here?” She shook her head. “Silver?”
“No.”
“Anything? Why is there a town here at all?”
“The stage. The town grew up because this was a major stage stop. There was some talk of the railroad coming through eventually. Though if we can’t get the stage back, that won’t happen, either.”
“There has to be something else.”
“If there is, I’ve never heard of it—” She broke off when he moved even closer and stared down at her intently. “Yes?”
“You smell like… like…” His face creased, and he leaned closer still, until the buttons on his vest nearly touched her nose. “Like rain.” The wonder in his voice made her smile.
“I rinse my hair in rainwater.” She ducked her head and blushed. “It’s supposed to help tame the curls.”
He leaned back, and his face creased more than ever. His big hand lightly touched the hair she’d wrestled into a straight, tight knot atop her head. “Why on earth would you want to do something like that?” He smoothed his palm over the crown of her head. “Mary.”
When he used her first name, Mary’s mouth fell open again. Hardly anyone called her that anymore—and no one said “Mary” quite like Reese. They stared at each other, the air thick with heat and heavy with the rasp of their breathing. Then thunder rumbled, once, sharp as lightning, and Reese whirled about.
“What was that?” she asked.
“A gunshot, damn it to hell.”
Reese ran for the door. Mary was right on his heels.
*
The general store stood only a few buildings away from the schoolhouse, yet to Reese it seemed like a few miles. He could hear Mary trying to keep up, panting as her corset pressed on her ribs, making it hard for her to run and breathe at the same time. Women and their idiotic undergarments!
Though Reese should have waited for her to catch up, he didn’t. Had one of his men shot one of the townsfolk, or had one of the townsfolk shot one of his men? Either way, there’d be trouble in Rock Creek. And when there was trouble, Reese was always the one who fixed it.
He slowed on the boardwalk. Waltzing into the store without knowing what was happening inside would be an excellent way to get his head blown off. He might not have much to live for, but he really didn’t care to die that way.
Reese flattened himself against the outside wall, drew his gun, scowled at Mary, and waved her out of sight. Then he peeked into the store.
To find his men in the process of holding up Baxter Sutton. Hands raised, the storekeeper stood with his back against the wall
as the men pawed through his selection of bullets. Reese should have known better than to leave them alone and armed among real people.
“Coming in,” Reese called. Sometimes Cash got jumpy, and Nate was always shaky this time of the afternoon.
He started into the store. Mary followed so close her toes clipped the heels of his boots. Once inside, she maneuvered around him and planted her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The five men glanced at her, smirked, and glanced at Reese. He shrugged. They were on their own.
“I think it should be obvious,” Cash drawled. “We’re robbing Sutton.”
“Why?”
“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.”
“But there’s no need.”
“Perhaps not, but boys will be boys.”
“Hmm.” Voice calm, the only sign of her annoyance was the tap of her boot beneath the sweep of her skirt “Mr. Sutton, it was agreed that these men would be supplied with whatever they wished while they were here.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to give them whatever they want.”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Who else has to give them stuff? They’re living in a deserted hotel. Nobody’s losing money over that.”
“Everyone is taking turns feeding them. And I paid them. I don’t have time to listen to any tales of poor little you. You’ll benefit from the town coming back to life more than most, so do your part now. Give them whatever they want.”
“And you!” She turned to the five men. “Put away those guns and that knife. Behave like human beings for a change.”
“Or what?” Cash snapped.
Uh-oh, Reese thought, time to step in. Cash had very little patience when it came to women of a certain type—good women, to be exact. His charm with saloon girls was legendary, but wave a decent lady in front of his face, and it was like waving red in front of a bull.
Reese stepped around Mary. “Miss McKendrick, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
She crossed her arms over her breasts, her stance considering rather than mulish, but that foot kept tapping. “Managing things, of course.”
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