To Tempt a Rogue

by Connie Mason

  MASTER OF DISGUISE

  Ryan stared at the boy, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. This was the first really good look he’d had of the lad in full daylight, and he knew immediately what had been bothering him. Was he the only one aware of something that should have been obvious to everyone? If there was one thing that Rogue Ryan knew well, it was women. He was familiar with their bodies, their voices, their mannerisms, their femininity. It took no great skill for Ryan to see through Kit’s disguise, despite the baggy clothing and dirty face. Her sky blue eyes and long burnished lashes were too feminine, her features too delicate.

  Kit was a woman, not some downy-faced lad. He’d bet the ranch on it.

  “What are you staring at?” Kit challenged.

  To Tempt a Rogue

  Connie Mason

  © 1999, 2012 Connie Mason. All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Tucson, Arizona

  1884

  The man in the bed was dying. Ryan Delaney knew it wouldn’t be long before he breathed his last.

  “You’re my last hope, Ryan,” Bert Lowry rasped. “I have no sons, no male relatives to turn to. That’s why I wrote to your father, my best friend, asking for help. I’m sorry I didn’t know your father was dead. We didn’t write regularly. But I sincerely thank you for coming, Ryan. If you can find my missing daughter for me, you’ll make a dying man happy.”

  Bert’s head fell back on the pillow, his frail body all but drained of energy. Ryan suddenly realized he truly did want to help Bert find his daughter. What had started out as a lark, an adventure different from the mundane existence of ranch life, had quickly changed into a mission of mercy.

  “I’ll do my best,” Ryan promised, “but I’ll have to know more than I do now. Are you up to telling me about your daughter and where she might be found?”

  Suddenly the door to the bedroom was flung open, and a stunning, dark-haired beauty entered. “Papa Bert! Mrs. Dewey told me you had a visitor. Are you sure you’re up to entertaining company?”

  Her sweeping gaze traveled the length of Ryan and back, then she gave him a brilliant smile, obviously liking what she saw. “I’m Teresa Cowling, Bert’s stepdaughter. I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “This is Ryan Delaney, Teresa. He’s here at my behest,” Bert explained. “You know how long I’ve been trying to find my daughter. Well, Ryan is going to help me. He’s the son of my oldest friend.”

  Teresa sent Bert a disgruntled look. “You’re wasting Mr. Delaney’s time, Papa Bert. Have you mentioned all the money you’ve spent trying to find a girl who’s probably dead by now? I’m all the daughter you need, even though I don’t carry your blood.”

  “Now, Teresa,” Bert soothed, “we’ve been through all this before. As long as hope exists, I won’t give up on finding Kathryn.”

  Rogue Ryan’s appreciative gaze settled on Teresa. Because of his thorough knowledge of the fairer sex, he immediately took note of her sensual nature. The signals she was sending him were more than just casual interest. He was well aware of her exotic beauty, of her curvaceous body, and of the invitation in her blue eyes. He knew she was assessing his interest in her just as he was evaluating hers in him. He didn’t think he was reading her wrong and wondered what it would take to get her into bed. He decided this adventure was going to prove more enjoyable than he had anticipated.

  Reining in his wayward thoughts, Ryan belatedly realized that Bert was speaking to him again, and he pulled his attention away from the tantalizing cleavage visible above the square neckline of Teresa’s dress.

  “Don’t mind Teresa, Ryan,” Bert said. “She’s a mite jealous. She’s had my sole attention all these years and hasn’t yet accepted the fact that I have a blood daughter. I couldn’t believe it myself when I learned about Kathryn six years ago.”

  Ryan’s attention sharpened. “You first learned of Kathryn six years ago?”

  “That’s when I received a letter from Rena Johnson, a woman from my past. She told me we had a daughter together.” He looked off into space, his stark features softening. “I fell in love with Rena almost twenty years ago. We had a brief but passionate affair. I would have married her if it hadn’t been necessary to marry a widow with money. My taxes were in arrears and I was on the verge of losing my ranch.”

  “Papa Bert!” Teresa cried, aghast. “Are you saying you married my mother for her money?”

  “That’s the gist of it, Teresa, though I grew quite fond of Leona after we married. And when you arrived here as a grown woman I treated you like my own.”

  “Please continue,” Ryan said, noting Bert’s pallor. He couldn’t promise he’d actually find Bert’s missing daughter, but there was something about the thwarted love story that intrigued him.

  “Rena’s letter stated that she was dying, and that she wanted me to raise our daughter after she was gone. She’d married a man named Deke Johnson, who she described as a drunk and a womanizer, and she didn’t want him raising Kathryn after she was gone.

  “At first I thought it was a hoax and did nothing about it. But the longer I thought about it, the more I began to believe I really did have a daughter by Rena. Leona’s lingering illness and death during this time delayed my investigation. A whole year passed from the time I received Rena’s letter to the day I hired a private investigator. The delay cost me dearly.”

  “Did Rena tell you where to find Kathryn?”

  “Rena and Kathryn were living in Tombstone with Deke Johnson when she posted the letter. Both Rena and Deke were dead and buried by the time the detective I hired arrived in Tombstone. He learned that Rena did indeed have a daughter named Kathryn. But the girl disappeared after Deke’s death. I hired Pinkertons to track her down, but they found no trace of the girl. They did locate the house Rena and Kathryn shared with Johnson, though. It’s situated at the south edge of Tombstone, and to my knowledge still stands empty. They also learned one other pertinent fact. Johnson had a son named Lex who left town years earlier and is reportedly riding with the Barton gang. Perhaps locating Lex would be a good place to start.”

  “How did Deke Johnson die?” Ryan asked.

  “A month or so after Rena’s death, he was caught cheating in a poker game and was shot to death.”

  Ryan’s brilliant green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “That’s not much to go on.”

  “It’s… all… I have,” Bert said, his voice noticeably weaker now.

  “Papa Bert needs to rest,” Teresa said as she grasped Ryan’s arm and guided him toward the door. “You can talk to him later.”

  Ryan left without protest, silently agreeing with Teresa. He closed the door quietly behind him and accompanied her down the stairs to the comfortable parlor. He plopped into an overstuffed sofa and stretched out his long legs.

  “You must be tired,” Teresa said, sitting down beside him.

  She leaned close, and he caught a whiff of violets. He always was partial to violets. “A little. It’s a long way from Dry Gulch, Montana.”

  “Tucson is a long way from anywhere,” Teresa returned shortly. “Sometimes I wish …
” Her sentence ended abruptly, and she smiled beguilingly at Ryan. “Are you married, Ryan?”

  “Married? Me? Ha! That day will never come,” he said with conviction. “My brothers might have succumbed, but marriage is not for me. There are too many women out there for me to settle on just one.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve kissed a lot of girls,” Teresa said coyly.

  A roguish smile lit up Ryan’s green eyes. “That’s one bet you’d win, Miss Cowling.”

  “Call me Teresa and I’ll call you Ryan. I’ll bet you never met the right woman, that’s why you’re against marriage.”

  “The right woman doesn’t exist,” Ryan quipped.

  He stared at her lips. Full and lush and red, they were parted slightly, as if in invitation. He smiled inwardly. All his instincts told him that Teresa was ripe for a mild flirtation. If she was so eager, who was he to resist? He didn’t intend to leave until he’d learned everything Bert knew about his daughter Kathryn, and in the meantime, a little dalliance with Teresa would keep boredom at bay. By the time he’d leave, Teresa would know exactly how Rogue Ryan had earned his name.

  Chapter 1

  Tombstone, Arizona

  1884

  “Do you have to leave, Ryan?” Terri pouted as she stretched languidly on top of him. “The next one is for free if you’ll stay a little longer.”

  Rogue Ryan gave her a cocky grin. “That’s mighty tempting, darlin’, but I’ve already dallied longer than I should have. I came here for information, not to get laid,” he quipped.

  “No harm in getting both,” Terri said saucily, brushing her ample breasts against his naked chest. “Besides, handsome, green-eyed men like you don’t come my way often. Angie always takes the young ones for herself. If she hadn’t been occupied when you arrived she would have grabbed you for sure.”

  “I never could resist a beautiful woman,” Ryan said as he parted her legs and thrust upward into her heat.

  Terri squealed in delight and gave herself up to Ryan’s expert lovemaking. He was the only man who didn’t treat her like a whore just because she was one.

  Ryan finished dressing and let himself out of Terri’s garishly decorated room, assimilating the information he’d learned since arriving in Tombstone yesterday.

  Terri had told him that Lex Johnson wasn’t unknown in Tombstone, although she knew nothing about his family. The Barton gang were also frequent visitors, although they hadn’t been seen in town recently. Ryan knew that the best source of information usually could be found at the local bawdy house—that’s why he had visited The Bird Cage first. He hadn’t intended to get involved with any of the girls, but Ryan couldn’t resist doing what Ryan did best. He fully intended to return one day and sample Pat, Bev, and Lee. In his opinion, The Bird Cage sported the best whores in Arizona territory. Mother Mary, as the madam was fondly called, ran a damn decent house.

  The sun was just starting to set when Ryan left The Bird Cage and headed over to the bank to withdraw funds on the letter of credit he had brought with him from home. As there were two customers ahead of him when he entered the bank, he paused to study the wanted posters pasted on a blank wall. After a brief glance he turned away, then whipped around for a double take. His second look revealed the picture of a man who looked strangely familiar.

  The drawing was crude, but the resemblance was unmistakable, even down to the beard Ryan had grown these past weeks. The man in the wanted poster looked uncannily like him. He took a closer look, unaware that the bank clerk was watching him. The poster identified the man as an outlaw wanted for bank robberies in Tucson and Yuma. He bore several aliases. Ryan rubbed his bearded chin, wondering if, without the facial hair, he’d still resemble the outlaw.

  Ryan turned away, saw that the other patrons had finished their business, and approached the window. The clerk continued to stare at him, his gaze shifting between Ryan and the wanted poster. When Ryan reached into his leather vest for his letter of credit, the frightened clerk flung his hands up and began to shake violently.

  Not knowing what to make of it, Ryan said, “I want…” His sentence ended abruptly when the clerk began pulling money out of the drawer and piling it on the counter.

  “Don’t shoot, mister,” the clerk begged. “Just take the money and go.”

  Stunned, Ryan said, “You don’t understand. I want…”

  “T-T-There’s more in the safe,” the clerk stuttered, pushing the money toward him.

  Thoroughly exasperated, Ryan shook his head as comprehension finally dawned. Wouldn’t Pierce and Chad get a kick out of him being mistaken for a bank robber? He chuckled over the outlandish notion. No matter how humorous the situation, though, Ryan knew he had to put a stop to it before it went any further.

  “Listen, I’m not…”

  Suddenly the bank door flew open and four men entered. Their hats were pulled low to partially cover their faces, and their guns were drawn and cocked.

  “Don’t nobody make a move,” one of the men growled. He motioned to the bank clerk with his gun. “Pile the money on the counter and be quick about it.”

  He must have realized belatedly that money was already stacked on the counter, for he shoved the brim of his hat up with the barrel of his gun and said, “What the hell!”

  “He’s got the money all ready for us, Billy,” the man standing beside Billy said.

  “Shut up, Lex. Let me figure this out,” Billy growled.

  When Ryan heard Billy call his companion Lex, he realized he had gotten himself smack dab in the middle of an honest-to-God bank robbery by the Barton gang. And the man Ryan had been searching for was standing just a few feet away. He stared at Lex Johnson, wondering how in the hell he was supposed to ask Lex about Kathryn while looking down the barrel of a gun.

  Billy Barton’s shifty gaze moved from the clerk to Ryan, then at the money piled neatly on the counter. Ryan could tell the exact moment comprehension dawned, for the outlaw’s eyes narrowed on him in surprise.

  “Now ain’t this somethin’,” Billy cackled. “Looks like this here gent had the same idea we did.”

  “There’s only one of him and four of us, Billy,” Lex said. “Let’s grab the money and hightail it outta here. It ain’t healthy to stick around.”

  Ryan thought of the dying Bert and knew he couldn’t let Lex escape so easily. He might never find Lex again. He cast about for an answer to his dilemma and found it. Throwing caution to the wind, he said, “There’s enough money here for all of us. I only want my fair share. I’ll ride with you, and we can divide it later.”

  “Why should you get a share?” Billy snarled.

  “Because I was here first,” Ryan said evenly. “And because I’ll follow you to hell and back if you don’t.”

  “You got balls, mister,” Billy said after some thought. “You’ll get your share if you make it outta town alive.” He motioned to his men to begin scooping money into the saddlebags they had brought in with them. “Clean out the safe, too,” he ordered. Lex moved with alacrity to obey.

  Minutes later Ryan made a hasty exit with the Bartons, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he leaped upon his prancing horse. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this scenario. From the corner of his eye he noticed a young boy dressed in baggy clothing waiting with the Bartons’ horses. Then he heard a shot, and he looked back toward the bank.

  Having found his courage, the bank clerk stood in the doorway, waving a gun and shouting, “It’s the Bartons! They robbed the bank!”

  The gang members had mounted up and were preparing to ride hell for leather when the clerk got off a lucky shot. Ryan saw Lex fall from his horse and sprawl still as death in the middle of the dusty road. With a start Ryan realized that the Bartons had no intention of turning back for their fallen comrade. They were hightailing it down the road as if the devil were nipping at their heels. Ryan was momentarily stunned, then two things happened at once.

  Marshal Wyatt Earp rushed toward the fallen outlaw, as th
e youngster in baggy clothing, who had remained outside the bank as lookout, slid off his horse and knelt beside Lex. Since Ryan had more or less sealed his fate when he had gone along with the Bartons, he had no choice but to flee with the gang. Yet the sight of the lad on his knees beside his wounded comrade gave him pause. Obviously the lad had no idea of the danger he was placing himself in by remaining behind.

  Driven by concern for the youngster, and acting from pure instinct that Pierce would have called plumb foolish, Ryan wheeled his horse toward the boy. Time was running out. The law was nearly upon them, and curious townspeople were pouring out of stores and homes. Determined to reach the lad first, Ryan spurred his horse forward, then reached down to sweep the boy up before him on the first pass. Bullets whizzed by him as he bent low over the boy and let the animal have his head.

  “Keep down!” Ryan shouted when he felt the lad stirring against him.

  “Bastard! Put me down!” the boy cried, struggling against the restraint of Ryan’s arms. “I can’t leave Lex.”

  “Ungrateful urchin. I didn’t risk my life to see you hang,” Ryan growled. “There’s the Bartons up ahead. Looks like they’re heading for the border. Once we’re on the other side I don’t care what you do with your life.”

  That shut him up, for he settled down after that. It wasn’t long before they caught up with the rest of the gang and crossed the border into Mexico. They stopped to camp beside a stream when it became too dark to continue. The lad slid to the ground and disappeared, while Ryan took care of his horse. Ryan saw him later, sitting away from the others beside the campfire, chewing on a piece of jerky. Something about the boy didn’t set right with Ryan, but he couldn’t for the life of him decide what it was.

  Ryan was still thinking about the kid when Billy Barton joined him. “If Lex was here he’d thank you for takin’ care of Kit. Lex hooked up with the kid before he joined us. They was both runnin’ from the law. Kit was young, but I had no objection to lettin’ him join us as long as he pulled his weight.”