He edged around the crowd and followed the other two men out the door. He sent a questioning look to Daniel.
Daniel interpreted the look easily. "I found Bobby Fairweather with Manuel's help. After a little persuasion, he told me about the Crooked R. I don't think he'll be leaving Mineral Springs anytime soon. Harding's told him there'd be a warrant out for his arrest for kidnapping the instant he left his wife and babe." Daniel gave his brother a curious look. "I thought to wait until I got back here before telling you where to find Betsy so I could lend a hand. Looks like you had the jump on me."
Peter had removed the wig and nose. He bounced them in his hands, impatient to return to his family. "Betsy's clues gave us the direction. We just didn't know if we were reading them right."
"So you sent a circus to find out? And here I thought Daniel was the eccentric in the family," Tyler commented wryly. "I don't suppose you gave any thought to what Stephen is doing right now, or do you have him tied up and in the tiger's cage?"
Peter shrugged. "Our first thought was to get the hell out of there. But I've talked to a friend of Daniel's since then." He sent Daniel an enigmatic look. "Pecos says if you put this adventure into a book, he'll scalp you alive."
Daniel grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Did he now? And what did the old boy do with the dastardly villain?"
Peter scratched the back of his head where his hair stood on end from the wig. "Well, I was for turning the bastard in to the law, but Pecos said the law around here is rather peculiar. For some reason, he didn't think Connor ought to be turned over to a hanging judge." He raised an eyebrow at Daniel. "He seemed to think you might know about this Judge Roy Bean? Said you'd understand."
Daniel's grin disappeared. "Yeah, I've read about him. Still, I'm not certain Connor shouldn't be hung, and that's what the judge would do to him, all right."
Peter didn't offer his theory on why the gunslinger wouldn't have Stephen Connor hung. Peter knew Janice wouldn't want to see the father of her child hung, and somehow the gunslinger knew it too. He didn't mention that to Daniel and Tyler.
"Anyway, Pecos is taking Connor back to Fort Worth for a proper trial. That ought to keep him out of our hair for a while." Peter turned to go back into the room.
Daniel's voice caught him. "What will you do now? I understand the snow in the mountains will keep you from exploring your mine until spring."
Peter stared blankly at the door facing him. "I'll be going back to Ohio, I guess, providing you can make room for me in the business somewhere."
"You know you have a better head for management than I do. Of course you'll be welcome." Daniel watched with concern as his brother returned to the room where Janice waited. He turned a questioning look to Tyler.
The older man shrugged his broad shoulders and stared at the closed door. "He thinks he owes you for the expense of finding Betsy. You're not ever going to convince him otherwise."
Daniel's long, lean face set in a grim expression. "Want to bet on that?"
Through Daniel's generosity, the remainder of the circus took the next train to San Antonio. The rest of the weary travelers had to wait for the Fort Worth train.
While they wandered up and down the station platform at the scheduled time, Janice sat on her satchel and watched her husband. She was relieved to note that Peter was coughing less now, but the strain of these last days had left its toll in the lines upon his face. He paced restlessly, with renewed energy, but she didn't like the shadowed look of his eyes. The brilliant green that once danced with excitement now had a muddy look of resignation.
Her gaze caught on a tall, stoop-shouldered man in a disreputable leather vest standing near one corner of the station. He hadn't been there earlier, she was certain. He seemed to blend in with the shadows, but this time she knew who he was. She stood up from her makeshift seat and approached him.
She thought for a moment he would bolt, but he squared his shoulders and stayed put. The others were at the far end of the train platform, listening to the wail of the whistle as the train approached. Janice stopped in front of the aging cowboy.
"I want to thank you, Mr. Martin, for everything you have done. It's a pity there aren't more men like you and fewer like Stephen."
"It's only human to take the easy route, ma'am. I'll see the law takes care of him. He won't be bothering you no more." He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, glancing in the direction of the station where he kept his prisoner tied.
"It takes a true man to take the difficult route. You were always there, keeping an eye on us, weren't you? But you let us do it our way. I don't know if I ought to thank you for that, but I thank you for being there."
Pecos shrugged. "That man of yours wouldn't of appreciated it if I'd done anythin' else. He never did need me anyways. I just kept an eye open to make that brother of his happy. I don't reckon you'll be needin' my help anytime soon."
"Not your help, maybe, but your friendship. Keep in touch, Mr. Martin." Daringly Janice stood on her toes and planted a gentle kiss on the cowboy's rugged cheek.
He colored beneath his tan and backed away. Janice smiled at the way the tough hero of Daniel's novels melted like wax around a woman. Distracted by the sound of the train pulling into the station, she turned briefly. When she looked back, he was gone.
But he was there somewhere. Smiling and whispering farewell, she hastened to join the others as they gathered up the assorted oddments they had accumulated over these last days. Janice hugged Betsy for good measure, then grabbed Peter's arm and clung to it with pride and joy as the train clattered to a halt. For a brief moment he smiled at her with the genuine happiness she had once known, but then he turned to the business at hand with the brusqueness she was beginning to learn.
Her patience with her husband's managerial attitude lasted into Fort Worth. Peter and Daniel spent the better part of the trip talking business, and Janice had already promised herself to understand this part of her husband's nature. But when he sent her on to the hotel with Daniel and the Monteignes while he remained behind to see to various matters, she began to lose a little bit of her forbearance.
She pulled Daniel aside as he arranged for their accommodations for the night. The clerk at the hotel desk smoothed his dark mustache and waited impatiently. Janice could sense the nattily dressed clerk's opinion of her travel-worn attire, knew she looked out of place in this exorbitantly expensive hotel, but she no longer cared about appearances.
"Daniel, could you arrange for Betsy to have a room in Evie's suite? Peter and I need some time alone." She ought to be thoroughly embarrassed at making such a request, but once her mind was set, she disregarded all else. Besides, Daniel was an old friend. She counted on him to understand.
He didn't even grin. He nodded in comprehension. "If anyone can straighten his thinking, you can, Miss Janice. I've never had much patience with human sacrifices. For some reason, he seems to think that's what's required to make you happy." Daniel gave her a quizzical look.
Janice's lips set in a grim line. "The man doesn't understand women very well, does he?"
Daniel grinned at that. "You got that right. He's never had one ounce of sense when it came to women. A schoolteacher like you ought to be able to teach him a lesson, though. I'm counting on it."
He turned back to the desk clerk to make the arrangements requested.
By the time he reached the hotel, Betsy was happily settled in a suite with the Monteignes, Daniel had disappeared elsewhere, and Peter found Janice all alone, luxuriating in her very first bubble bath.
He closed the door carefully, using it as a support as his gaze took in the sight of fluttery bubbles drifting over rounded curves, occasionally parting to reveal glimpses of pink. He had always known Janice was a beautiful woman, but the sight of her now with her golden tresses stacked high and loose on her head, revealing satin neck and shoulders flushed to an enticing pink from the heat made him realize he'd never known how truly beautiful she could be. She lif
ted her arms to soap them, and her breasts bobbed temptingly above the bubbles.
The seductive smile she bestowed upon him when she saw him standing there sent Peter's fingers flying to his shirt buttons. He didn't know where Betsy was and didn't care. Skimming out of his clothes as quickly as humanly possible eliminated all thought.
He had been weary when he entered the room, but now he felt horny as hell. It struck him as highly efficient to have a woman available when he needed one, but it was that same damned female who had created the ache in the first place. Women were a mixed blessing at best, but he meant to enjoy this part of his wife's nature. He had his boots off and his shirt stripped by the time she soaped her feet. The sight of her curved calf propped on the edge of the tub put a new edge on his impatience as he tugged off his pants with some difficulty.
She eyed him dubiously as he approached the tub naked, but she only emitted a breathless squeal when he swept her up and settled himself in the water, bringing her down on top and facing him. Water sloshed over the sides, but he didn't even notice, much less care.
"Peter..."
He didn't know what she meant to say. He stopped her words with a kiss that seared his insides, scalding him as if he bathed in boiling water.
There were simply too many words to be said so he didn't say any of them. He kissed her, soaped his hands with the bubbles on her breasts until she gasped, then slid his hands over and beneath the generous curves of her hips, lifting her to where he needed her.
She gave a cry of ecstasy that almost caused Peter to lose it right then and there. Forcing himself to go slowly, he tried to take her gently, but she was beyond that already. With his own groan of joy, he followed her lead, driving himself deep inside over and over until the water churned with their frenzy.
By the time they achieved satisfaction, there was more water on the floor than in the tub and someone was banging on the door in protest. Peter grinned and pressed a kiss to his wife's reddened cheeks before climbing out of the tub and wrapping a towel around himself to chase away the intruder.
By the time he placated the hotel manager, Janice had toweled herself dry and was wriggling into a long nightgown. Peter grabbed the cloth from her hands and jerked it back over her head, flinging the gown to the far corner of the room.
"I have to make up for lost time," he murmured when she protested. Lifting her, he carried her to the bed.
Janice grabbed the covers and rolled up in them, glaring at him as if he had suddenly turned into the devil himself. "Not until we talk," she informed him coldly.
Peter didn't bother drying off. He dropped to the bed, rolled over until he had her legs trapped beneath his, then methodically began removing the covers from her grasp. "We can talk anytime. We don't often have this much privacy to do what I want."
"At least tell me where you're taking me. I have a right to know where we'll be living." She grabbed the sheet away from him and pulled it back over her breasts.
"I'm taking you back to Mineral Springs where you have friends. You said you didn't want to go back to Ohio. I'll build you a house there and buy you a new bicycle." Peter peeled the sheet back again and filled his hands with her deliciously scented flesh. He couldn't resist tasting, and he felt a surge of satisfaction when she wriggled and moaned with pleasure beneath him.
But Janice wouldn't be put off. She grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked until he had to look at her. "And how do you mean to earn the money for all these wonderful things?"
"The same way I always have, by hard work. Despite what you've seen, I am capable of keeping a wife." Peter turned to nibble at her ear while his hands sought the pleasures of soft curves.
Janice caught his biceps and tried to shove him away. "I don't doubt your abilities in the least. Just tell me how and where you mean to do this work."
Growing a trifle angry at this continued resistance, Peter pushed himself up and glared down at her. "What difference is that to you so long as I provide for you as I promised?"
She tried to scramble out from under him but his legs and the tangle of sheets and blankets held her trapped. She pushed herself up by her elbows and glared back at him. "I'm your wife, you stone-headed idiot! You can't just pretend I'm one of your employees not deserving of managerial secrets."
Her hair had fallen from its knot and now tumbled in glorious disarray across her breasts and shoulders. He had loved that hair from the first instant he'd seen it. Peter filled his hands with it now as he sat back on his haunches and forced himself to say what he would have given a fortune to postpone.
"I'll be going back to Ohio to help Daniel run the business. He can use the help. The pay is good. I'll have us out of debt in no time."
With a cry of rage, Janice slammed both hands against his chest and shoved him off the bed.
For the second time in as many weeks, he fell with the loud crash of a tree toppling.
Chapter 41
"Who the damn hell do you think you are?"
Janice raged above him, kneeling naked on the edge of the bed, her waist-length hair rippling down her back and over her shoulders like some Viking Valkyrie.
Peter lay on his back, looking up from the floor in more astonishment than anger. This was his mild-mannered schoolmarm?
"This is a marriage, not a business!" She grabbed a pillow and flung it at him.
He threw up an arm and shielded himself from the bombardment, knocking the pillow aside. He was rather too aware that he was naked and relatively defenseless, but his astonishment melted into the anger. "I keep my promises, dammit!" he yelled back. "I promised to make you happy and to take care of you, and I damned well mean to do just that. I don't own a ranch. I can't keep you here without making money somehow. So I'm doing it the only way I know how."
He jumped up and grabbed the next pillow she meant to fling at him.
"By leaving me here! Damn you, Peter Mulloney, what do you think I am? A liar? I told you I love you. Didn't that sink into your thick head?"
The noise they created had someone pounding on the door again, but they both ignored the intrusion.
"Love hasn't got anything to do with money! Hell, for all I know, it won't even last longer than it takes to say it. It sure as hell won't last if you're shivering in some log cabin watching the babies we make starve. I told you I'm not going to do that to you, and I mean it!"
The pounding at the door was now accompanied by shouts to open it. Janice grabbed the pillow from the floor and slammed it against Peter's head.
"I... love... you... lunkhead," she screamed, beating him with the pillow in time to her words. Peter ducked, dodged, and scrambled for the second pillow. Janice continued bringing her pillow down upon his back and shoulders. "I'm your wife! Where you go, I go. If you're too ashamed to take me back to Ohio, just say so. Don't give me this other nonsense."
Peter gave up on his weapon and grabbed hers instead. The struggle tore open a seam, sending feathers flying in a snowy blizzard. The pounding at the door escalated.
"Ashamed! Hell, Janice, I don't know what you use that brain of yours for, but it sure ain't for thinking. I didn't marry you out of shame! I married you because you were the best damned woman I would ever find. I'd be proud to show you off. You're the blamed fool who won't go back with me. A man wants the woman he loves by his side, but I don't mean to keep you where you won't be happy."
Janice was so startled by his admission that she let her side of the pillow go. Peter found himself grasping just the pillow cover as the casing flew out of his hands, scattering the remaining chicken feathers high in the air. They both stared in distraction as feathers settled everywhere, covering the bed, their hair and shoulders, the floor, lighting on the dresser and washbasin, blowing in the draft from the door.
The door. Peter grabbed Janice in his arms and held her against him as someone's shoulder bounced against the solid wood. Tyler's curses followed, and Janice turned a wide-eyed look up to Peter's taut jaw. As someone else slammed against the
panel, Peter began to grin.
"I think we're being rescued, my love. Who do you think will be embarrassed most if they succeed?"
Janice looked down at their nakedness, at the feathers coating their arms and torsos, not to mention the room and her shoulders began to shake.
"You're not crying, are you?" Peter asked anxiously, catching her arms and staring worriedly down at her bent head.
Janice whipped her hair back and forth and tried not to let the laughter erupt, but it was more than she could control. Everything was more than she could control. He whole life was totally out of hand, and she was laughing so hard that she couldn't keep from shaking. The sound of her merriment pealed above the shouts and curses outside the door.
Peter's laughter began as a grin at the absurdity of their situation. It grew with the infectiousness of Janice's mirth. Aside from the fact that they were both quite certifiably insane, he had never felt better in his life. Guffaws welled from deep in side of him. He wanted to roll on the floor with happiness, but he retained sufficient sense to grab a sheet to wrap around Janice. He wanted to shout his love to all the world, but he wasn't about to share her with anyone. He hadn't changed that much.
But they had changed. As the hotel manager unlocked the door and Tyler and Daniel stumbled in, that much was obvious. The stoic pair who seldom smiled, who always planned ahead, who never had a moment for nonsense, were standing in a snow cloud of feathers, stark naked, and laughing. When they saw the faces of their would-be rescuers, the couple erupted in renewed peals of hilarity.
The manager broke into Spanish curses and threats at the destruction around them, but Tyler and Daniel merely exchanged glances, grinned, and shoved the man out o the room. The only rescuing needed here was their sanity and that was probably dispensable.
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