In a Cowboy’s Arms

by Janette Kenny

  “This is ridiculous. You’d rest better in the bed,” she said.

  He snorted, and that curt sound was a slap of reality she hadn’t expected. “Hardly. Quit dawdling, Maggie. Morning is going to come mighty early.”

  She stared at his long feet incased in worn stockings and gave in to a shiver. Last night his long bare legs and feet had tangled with hers. The rasp of his crisp hair against her skin had been an erotic thrill that had heightened her senses.

  It was clear she wouldn’t feel anything but cool sheets against her skin tonight.

  He flicked a glance her way, then proceeded to remove his shirt. His gun belt followed. The entire process was smoothly done. She knew it was routine, that he’d done it countless times before.

  But she’d bet he’d never slept on the floor while the woman he’d bedded the night before snoozed in the bed. This was done by choice, and it hurt. He’d dismissed her from his mind just like that.

  She swallowed the bitter taste of reality. He was rejecting her. He was saying that if he couldn’t have sex with her, he didn’t want to sleep with her either.

  Maggie slipped behind the dressing screen and went through the motions of changing into her nightdress. Fool that she was, she’d chosen a frilly one that buttoned from her neck to well below her waist because she’d been thinking of seduction again–not sleep.

  She crawled into the bed and tugged the covers to her chin. “Good night.”

  “Night.”

  She saw him douse the light, and the room faded into a velvet darkness. But she didn’t need light to know Dade Logan was in the room.

  She was attuned to his every movement, the breath he took, the shift of his body on the pallet. She’d done what she had sworn she wouldn’t do. She’d lost her heart to him.

  He didn’t even know she was alive. Wanting him. Hurting for his touch.

  Pride wouldn’t let her reveal it. She’d gone to him once and initiated their lovemaking. The next time–if there was a next time–it would have to come from him.

  For the last ten miles guilt plied the whip to Dade’s conscience over his decision to ride into Dodge City today. Maggie was ready to drop from the saddle, and there was no place that he deemed safe enough to bunk down.

  Their only option was to keep moving.

  Because of her tender condition from riding too much on the mare and on him the night before last, he held them to a snail’s pace. It was mighty clear that even that was a form of torture for her.

  So they arrived at dusk. The Iago Theater was easy enough to find though, thanks to the fact that a play was going on at the time.

  He rode past the two-story brick building and the two that butted next to it. Both were shops that were closed for the night.

  “Miss Jennean said we should go to the back door and ask for Gwyneth,” Maggie said.

  Just where he was heading. “I remember.”

  “Do you still have the token?”

  “In my breast pocket.” He patted his chest where the small disk rested, but with the diminished light of dusk he doubted she noticed.

  He reined up their horses at the mouth of a narrow alley that reeked of piss and rotting vegetables. He could guess what caused the first. The last had an obvious source thanks to a restaurant that backed up to the theater.

  “Not a very inviting place,” Maggie said.

  Downright dangerous in his estimation. “I don’t much care to leave the horses tied up out here in the alley while I get you settled inside.”

  In fact, he wasn’t partial to leaving her alone while he saw to their horses. But his only other choice was for them to head to the livery and then hire a buggy to return with their provisions and bags.

  She surely wouldn’t be able to walk that far. Even if she could, they’d attract attention.

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Maggie said. “After all, the owner is a friend of Miss Jennean’s.”

  He didn’t miss the weary tone in her voice. Like it or not, he’d have to see her settled, then stable the horses.

  “Let’s see if we can raise someone then,” he said.

  Dade guided the horses down the alley with care, disliking the pile of crates where anyone could hide. A couple of cats darted from one stack and raced down the alley.

  His gelding shied, but thankfully Maggie’s mare paid the cats no mind. He scanned the shadows again before dismounting.

  Steps led up to the rear door of the theater. He rapped on the solid door and hoped it wouldn’t take long for someone to answer.

  “Maybe they can’t hear you with the show going on,” Maggie said.

  No doubt she was right. He heard piano music, then the clapping of hands that seemed to go on and on.

  Dade waited until the applause died then pounded on the door again. If they didn’t raise somebody this time, he was moving on.

  After too long a wait, the door creaked open, and a strange little man stared back at him. He glanced from Dade to Maggie and back again.

  “If you’re looking for a job, look elsewhere,” the man said in a voice that sounded pinched. “I’ve got all the actors and actresses I need, and when they aren’t working, they do the repairs on the theater.”

  “Not looking for work, sir.” Dade held up the token and felt marginally better when the little man smiled. “I’m looking for Gwyneth.”

  “Ah, yes, yes. This does change things,” the man said, his voice taking on a feminine edge. “I am Mrs. DeMare.”

  Why would a woman dress in masculine clothes and kohl her eyes? “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “No need for apologies. One of my actors left me in the lurch, so I was obliged to play his part tonight.” Mrs. DeMare snagged the token from his hands with lightning speed. “Where did you get this?”

  “From Miss Jennean,” he said. “She sent us here.”

  Mrs. DeMare stared at Maggie again. “Who’s the woman running from? A jealous husband? The law?”

  Dade sure as hell didn’t want to talk about this on the back stoop of the theater, but Mrs. DeMare didn’t appear anxious to let them in without knowing.

  “The family she worked for wants to marry her off to a man she fears,” he said. “They hired a bounty hunter to bring her back.”

  “Trouble,” Mrs. DeMare hissed.

  That was putting it mildly. He wasn’t about to own up to being an outlaw’s son.

  Instead of slamming the door in his face as he half expected, Mrs. DeMare opened it wide. “Bring her in. Your bags too.”

  Dade didn’t wait to be asked twice. He lifted Maggie off the mare and held her until he felt the worst of her tremors leave.

  “You able to walk?” he asked.

  “I think so.” But one faltering step convinced him she wasn’t as steady as she claimed.

  Dade scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside the theater. He spied a wooden bench and eased her down on it.

  “I’ll be back with our bags.”

  Mrs. DeMare waved him on and set to fussing over Maggie. He returned to the packhorse and made quick work getting their belongings inside.

  “I need to stable the horses,” he said.

  “Westin Livery is four blocks south,” Mrs. DeMare said. “He takes good care of your stock and doesn’t ask questions.”

  Just what he wanted. “I’ll be back soon as I can.”

  “I’ll be all right.” Maggie got to her feet and held on to the high back of the wooden bench. “Be careful.”

  Dade nodded, then stood there like a dolt when what he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her. All the reasons why he shouldn’t trotted before him, and the wary manner in which Mrs. DeMare eyed him cinched it.

  So without a word, he slipped out the door and crossed to the horses. The back door of the theater closed with a final-sounding click.

  Maggie was safe now. He could see to their mounts without fretting over her. But he worried just the same as he headed back the way he’d come.

  There
was something damned odd about Mrs. DeMare that went beyond her dressing like a man. First off was the fact that there wasn’t a livery four blocks down.

  He excused it as the lady not knowing her directions. But the feeling he’d been sent on a wild goose chase ballooned when he rode north the same distance and found nothing but houses.

  Dade motioned for the approaching buggy to stop. The man driving it did, but he looked mighty uneasy about doing so.

  “Pardon, sir,” Dade said, “but would you direct me to the Westin Livery?”

  “I’d be happy to. Go three blocks east and turn to your left. The stable is halfway down the block.”

  “Much obliged,” Dade said.

  He backtracked again and found the place right off. Interesting that he was less than two blocks from the theater. In fact, he could see the top of that building from the front of the livery.

  “Need to stable my horses for a few days or so,” Dade told the liveryman, who looked big enough to wrestle a bear and was just as wooly.

  “Two bits a day per horse. You fail to pay, I keep the horses.”

  “Fair enough.” Dade swung from the saddle and dug out the right coin.

  With the horses settled in, he walked the surprisingly short distance to the theater. Darkness had fully fallen by the time he rapped on the rear door again.

  Like before, his first knock wasn’t answered. He pounded on the door again, but a minute turned into five.

  That uneasy feeling settled into his gut as he thumped his fist on the door a third time. No answer.

  Dade trudged to the front of the theater. The folks that had been standing there were gone.

  “Ticket?” asked the pretty girl sitting behind the window.

  He shook his head, his impatience getting a stranglehold on him. “Mrs. DeMare told me to meet her around back, but nobody answered the door.”

  The girl blinked. “Mrs. DeMare? You must be mistaken, sir. There’s nobody here by that name.”

  “That’s a damn lie,” he said, his patience exploding into anger. “I just talked with her thirty minutes ago.”

  The girl wasn’t moved. “There’s nobody here by that name.”

  Shit, this would get him nowhere. The only way to find out if Maggie was still here was to search the damned place.

  “Does the name Miss Jennean mean anything to you?” he asked.

  “Oh yes! She’s a patron of the theater.” The girl’s burst of excitement instantly dimmed. “Why do you ask?”

  “Miss Jennean sent me and my friend here.”

  The girl looked around and frowned. “Friend?”

  “Maggie is already inside,” he said. “Miss Jennean told us to go to the rear door and ask for Gwyneth.”

  The girl nodded and for a moment he thought he was getting somewhere. “Do you have a token?”

  “I gave it to Mrs. DeMare.”

  Her eyebrows lifted in twin dubious arches over her pale eyes. “There’s nobody here by that name.”

  Dammit. He was done trying to reason with this girl. He tried the door, but it was locked.

  “Let me in.”

  “Not without a ticket,” the girl said.

  Fine, he’d buy a damned ticket. He dug in his pocket and came up with a handful of change.

  “How much?”

  “The evening performance is three dollars,” the girl said.

  He had two silver dollars on him, and the rest of his money was stowed in his saddlebag that was somewhere in this goddamned theater.

  He flipped the girl the Morgans. “I’m short a buck, but if you’ll let me fetch my saddlebag, which is inside the theater with Maggie, I’ll gladly pay you the rest.”

  “Sorry, sir.” She handed the money back to him. “The manager doesn’t allow us to extend credit to patrons.”

  If Dade had thought he stood a snowball’s chance in hell of kicking down the door he would have. He was surely getting nowhere trying to reason with the girl.

  “Fetch your boss,” he told her. “I want answers, and I damned sure want them now.”

  The girl gave an indignant huff that rankled him even more. But the slap in the kisser was when she closed the window and pulled the shade, blocking his view of her and the theater lobby.

  If he had thought she’d gone to fetch her boss or someone in charge, he wouldn’t have gotten so steamed. But he had a hunch she’d just flat-ass ignored him.

  Dade pushed away from the window and paced the front of the theater, pissed off and filled with the nagging fear that Maggie was in trouble. It made no sense that the person who’d let them in earlier no longer existed.

  Dammit, he’d talked with Mrs. DeMare or whoever the hell she was. That woman had let him and Maggie into this theater. By damn he’d find a way to get in again.

  Chapter 21

  Maggie lounged on the tufted chaise, too tired to fully appreciate the elegant room she’d been given. The warm bath had been divine. The soothing tea relaxed her even more.

  Though she was sorely tempted to crawl onto the bed and fall asleep, she refrained. She was too worried about Dade.

  He should have stabled the horses and returned long before she stepped from her bath. So what was keeping him? Had he decided to pay Mrs. Jarrett a visit without her company? Was he simply increasing his distance from Maggie now that they’d reached Dodge City?

  She stared at his saddlebags resting beside the pannier. If he hadn’t left his possessions here, she would’ve feared that he wasn’t coming back.

  The thought of never seeing him again filled her with a cold hollow ache. But that fate was inevitable.

  How strange that when Doc Franklin had first suggested Dade deliver her to St. Louis in a month, she’d dreaded being in his company that long. Now one week had ended, and they were a step closer to finding Daisy.

  When that happened, the closeness she shared with Dade would have to end. Or was it already over?

  Last night she had feared that could be the case when he refused to share the bed with her. He’d not made any move to be amorous or even jocular today.

  Yes, something was definitely wrong.

  A soft knock sounded at her door and she sat up, hoping it was him. “Come in.”

  An elegant woman swept into the room in a lavish flurry of skirts. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Much better.” She stared at the woman, certain she’d seen her before. “Have we met?”

  “Indeed we have, but I was in costume.” She closed the door and crossed to the window.

  No, it couldn’t be. “Mrs. DeMare?”

  The petite beauty released a throaty laugh. “Mrs. DeMare is a nom de plume I’ve used when caution is advised. I’m Gwyneth Vale, the owner of the Iago Theater. You’re safe from the man who brought you here.”

  “What? Why would you think that I needed protection from Dade?”

  Gwyneth parted the curtain and looked out, and from her position on the chaise Maggie could tell that night had fallen. “The token Miss Jennean gave him was a signal to me that you are in danger. It’s in your best interest and mine to discover if you are traveling with him against your will.”

  How to answer. Telling the truth would put an end to Gwyneth’s doubts about Dade. But if Maggie lied, would she save Dade from a deadly confrontation with Allis Carson?

  “You are taking an awfully long time answering a simple question,” Gwyneth said.

  That was because she wasn’t accustomed to making decisions on her own. “Dade and I struck an agreement. I vowed to help him find his sister, and he promised to see me safely delivered to St. Louis in a month.”

  “Did that arrangement stipulate that you were to become his lover?”

  Maggie couldn’t stop her face from flushing, but the cause was annoyance that this stranger had asked something so personal. “That was my choice.”

  Gwyneth let the curtain fall and crossed the room to her again. “It still is, because if you wish I can arrange for you to leave here with
out his being the wiser.”

  Put that way, it was a tempting choice and probably the one she should make for Dade’s sake. She finished the last of her tea and set the delicate cup aside.

  It was likely that Dade would find Daisy soon. Surely the doctor or Mrs. Jarrett would remember the man’s name.

  Dade wouldn’t need Maggie much longer. So if she took Gwyneth Vale’s offer, he would be free of his obligation to take her to St. Louis. He could go on with his life, and she with hers.

  But Maggie couldn’t do it.

  The simple fact was that she loved Dade Logan. By damn she selfishly wanted to spend what remained of this month and more with him if possible.

  If he wanted her.

  She felt tight and anxious about the rejection that surely loomed in her future. He’d want to protect his sister, and that would mean he’d want to get rid of the woman who was more trouble than she was worth.

  But even that didn’t stop her from wanting him.

  “When I leave here, it’ll be with Dade.”

  A slow smile played over Gwyneth’s refined features. “As you wish. I’ll send word down to admit Mr. Logan.”

  “Thank you. I was worried what was keeping him so long.”

  “Oh, he has been outside for quite some time, no doubt trying to figure out a way to break in.” Gwyneth sighed, seeming not the least bit repentant over locking Dade out.

  “I’ll have some explaining to do to Mr. Logan, but if he’s as worthy a man as you deem him to be, he’ll understand my concerns.”

  Maggie wasn’t so sure he’d see it that way. She swayed as she got to her feet or was the room spinning a bit?

  “Perhaps I’d better go down with you.”

  “No. You should rest. I have an evening show that’s scheduled to begin in half an hour,” Gwyneth said as she laid her hands on Maggie’s shoulders and eased her back down on the chaise lounge. “I’ll speak with Mr. Logan then send him up to you. We would prefer that guests stay upstairs during a performance.”

  She wanted to protest over being verbally locked in a room again, but she was simply too tired. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. Even carrying on a conversation was just too taxing.