To Tempt a Rogue

by Connie Mason

  “How old is Kit?” Ryan asked.

  Billy scratched his wild thatch of matted hair. “Don’t rightly know. Sixteen or seventeen, I reckon. He was just a tad when Lex brought him here. They been ridin’ with us four or five years now. Kit has grown some since then, but not much. He’s gonna miss Johnson.”

  “Kit must know Johnson well,” Ryan said thoughtfully.

  Billy shrugged. “About as well as anyone here. Why?”

  “No reason. I feel kind of responsible for the kid. I’ll keep an eye on him for you if you want.” If Kit was as close to Lex as Billy suggested, then he might know something about Kathryn, Ryan reflected.

  Billy sent Ryan a calculating look. “Is that your way of askin’ if you can join the gang?”

  Ryan grinned. “I was hoping you’d ask me.”

  “I don’t even know your name.”

  “It’s Ryan.”

  “Ryan what?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Don’t reckon it does. Is the Tombstone bank the first job you pulled?”

  “Neither the first nor the last,” Ryan lied. “I usually work alone but I wouldn’t mind joining up with you. How about it?”

  Here was the excitement Ryan had longed for when he’d left home! The exhilaration of what he was about to do, the thrill of danger, sent adrenaline charging through him. Ranching couldn’t compare with this kind of adventure. Right now he didn’t have time to think about the consequences of his folly.

  “With Lex outta commission I reckon we can use another gun,” Billy said. “Poor bastard will hang if he ain’t already dead. Kit ain’t good during robberies so we can’t depend on him. We keep him around because he’s a passable cook and good with the horses. The Tombstone job was only the third time he rode with us. He usually acts as lookout while we’re inside the bank.”

  “You won’t regret it,” Ryan said, elated.

  “I better not,” Billy warned. “Hey boys,” he called out, capturing the attention of the other gang members. “This here is Ryan. He’s joinin’ us on a trial basis. The ugly brute with the crooked nose sitting across from us is Clank,” Billy said by way of introduction. “The half-breed is Durango. You already know Kit.”

  Ryan nodded to each man in turn and was rewarded with answering grunts. From all but Kit, who ignored him.

  “We better hit the sack if we want to get an early start tomorrow,” Billy said, yawning. “We’ll have to lay low for a while so don’t expect no action until the heat dies down.”

  “I can use the rest,” Ryan said as Billy and the others hoisted themselves to their feet and found their bedrolls.

  The forced inactivity suited Ryan perfectly. He intended to hang around only long enough to find out what Kit knew, if anything, about Lex Johnson and his stepsister, Kathryn.

  Ryan watched through slitted eyes as Kit moved away from the campfire, away from the rest of the men, and lay down on his bedroll. His movements were almost too graceful for a boy, and he seemed frail for his age. It looked as if his shoulders were shaking, and Ryan wondered if he was crying. Obviously Lex had been like a brother to Kit, and leaving Lex behind to an uncertain fate must have been traumatic for the lad.

  Feeling charitable—and something else he couldn’t name—Ryan made his way through the sleeping men to where Kit lay wrapped in his bedroll. Ryan knelt down and touched his shoulder.

  Kit bolted upright. “Keep your filthy hands off me!” he hissed. “Haul your ass back to your bedroll and leave me alone.”

  Ryan sat back on his heels, stunned by the undeserved diatribe. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me,” the boy said sullenly as he lay back down. “I take that back,” he added grimly. “I could use a shot of whiskey.”

  “Sorry, no whiskey. I know you and Lex were friends. I thought you might be lonesome.”

  “You thought wrong, mister. I ain’t no puking baby.”

  Ryan stared at the lad, his gaze settling on the tangle of blond hair cropped short, then moving down over ridiculously long golden lashes, a straight nose, and full lips. Something stirred inside him. Compassion? Pity? It was difficult to describe until he knew the kid better. One thing he did know. The kid was a filthy, foulmouthed juvenile who belonged in school, not riding with a gang of outlaws. His hands and face were so dirty that Ryan could barely see his smooth jaw beneath all the grime.

  Ryan rose abruptly. “Pardon me for trying to be friendly. I don’t need a foulmouthed little urchin cussing me out. Good night, brat.”

  After a short walk behind a tree to relieve himself, Ryan settled down for the night. But sleep eluded him. He lay awake a long time thinking about the unexpected turn his life had taken. If Pierce and Chad knew what he’d done they’d kill him. That was the trouble with having two older brothers. Both tried to tell him how to run his life. That was the main reason he’d left Dry Gulch. That and the sickening marital bliss both his brothers seemed to have found. Love and marriage. It might work for his brothers, but it certainly wasn’t a state he aspired to.

  No sir, he thought, grinning to himself. Rogue Ryan liked a variety of women, almost as much as women liked him. If there was one subject Ryan knew well, it was women. Not that he didn’t relish a good fight when the occasion warranted. He and his brothers weren’t known as hell-raisers for nothing. But now that Pierce and Chad had wives and families, it was left to him to uphold the reputation earned by the Delaney brothers.

  Ryan’s last thought before sleep claimed him was that perhaps this time he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Being on the wrong side of the law was a new experience. Hopefully he wouldn’t live to regret his rashness.

  Ryan awoke to the mouthwatering aroma of coffee and bacon. He opened his eyes and saw the outlaws beginning to stir. With dawn just breaking, an eerie grayness had settled over the mesquite-covered ground. Ryan gathered his gear and walked to the stream to wash and shave off the beard he’d grown. He was kneeling at the water’s edge to rinse the shaving soap from his face when he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled, his hand going for his gun. He saw Kit standing behind him and relaxed.

  Kit’s surly expression gave Ryan the impression that the boy wasn’t thrilled to see him.

  “What are you doing here?” Kit asked.

  “Same thing you are, I reckon. Only you need it more than I do. Don’t you ever wash? And look at your hair. You hiding rats in there?”

  “Go to hell,” Kit said petulantly. “You ain’t my keeper.”

  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. Ryan had to hand it to Lex. His taste in doxies was impeccable.

  Kit was a woman, not some downy-faced lad. He’d bet the ranch on it. And she was probably older than she looked.

  “What are you staring at?” Kit challenged.

  Ryan shrugged. “Just wondering how you stand the dirt. The water’s not too cold, why don’t you strip and have a good wash?”

  “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

  Truth to tell, washing was exactly what Kit had intended to do before she’d found Ryan at the stream. She knew none of the Bartons would think of washing or shaving, and she had expected to find a secluded spot for her own morning ablutions. Of course she’d have to dirty her face and hands again to maintain her disguise, but at least her body would be clean. Without Lex here to protect her privacy, finding time for herself was going to be difficult.

  “You sure are a coc
ky kid,” Ryan said. He looked amused at something, and Kit wondered what she had said to entertain him.

  This outlaw wasn’t like the others. She’d been with the Bartons a long time and had learned a great deal, more than she wanted, about outlaws, and Ryan didn’t fit the mold. Who was he and what did he want? He was a handsome devil whoever he was. His tall, muscular frame possessed not one ounce of fat, and if she were one to succumb to charm, the man’s smile alone would reel her in like a fish on a line. She stared at him, intrigued by his eyes. They were the clear, cool green of grass after a spring rain. Thank God she was too smart to fall for the handsome face and impressive body of the dark-haired rogue. Men like Ryan thought themselves God’s gift to women.

  Outlaws were the scum of the earth, Kit maintained. They were cruel, hard, and had no respect for human life, male or female. Kit had learned volumes about outlaws in the five years since Lex had taken her under his wing to “protect” her. She’d been thirteen at the time, and she’d had no choice but to accompany him since her mother was dead and Deke had been killed over a card game, leaving her to fend for herself. The first year or two they had lived on their own, from hand to mouth, barely existing between robberies. Then Lex had met and joined up with the Bartons, and life had become a little easier with big money from bank robberies and such to split.

  It soon occurred to Kit that Lex, though his intentions may have been good, had thrust her into a dangerous existence. It hadn’t been all bad when she was young, but as she’d grown older and matured, the situation had become downright sticky. Now, without Lex to protect her, the whole charade could explode in her face.

  “I gotta go,” Kit said, turning abruptly. Ryan made her uncomfortable. He looked at her as if he could see through her disguise, though she knew she’d done nothing to rouse his suspicion. “Billy won’t like it if the bacon burns.” She turned and fled, unwilling to answer the unasked questions visible in Ryan’s brilliant green gaze.

  Ryan stared at the elegant line of her departing back, his mind awhirl with questions. He understood why Lex kept his doxy’s identity a secret. He wouldn’t want to share her either. He speculated about her age. She couldn’t have been very old when Lex joined the Bartons, for she didn’t look a day over twenty or twenty-one. He certainly couldn’t tell from her body, for she kept it well covered.

  There wasn’t a hint of breasts beneath her baggy jacket, but he’d be willing to bet they were ample. Lex wouldn’t have kept her with him if she hadn’t pleased him. Ryan grinned. It might amuse him to play Kit’s game for a while. Besides, he was here for one purpose. To find Kathryn. Lex wasn’t around to answer his questions but his doxy was. If she’d been with Lex five or more years, she probably would know about Lex’s family.

  Still smiling, Ryan returned to the campsite. The men had already eaten, and he poured himself a cup of coffee and ate what bacon remained, gobbling it down as he saddled his horse.

  “Where you been?” Billy questioned.

  “Taking a leak,” Ryan said tersely. “I’ll be ready to leave when you are.”

  “There’s been a change in plans,” Billy said. “We’re stoppin’ in town first. There ain’t a drop of whiskey among us, and the boys’ throats are parched somethin’ fierce. The rotgut tequila the cantina sells is better than nothin’. And there’s a couple of black-eyed senoritas there always willin’ to earn a couple of pesos.”

  “You’ll like Carmen,” Durango said. “She’s got the purtiest tits this side of the Rio Grande.”

  “I prefer Lolita,” Clank argued. “She’s got a set of muscles between her legs that can squeeze a man dry.”

  Ryan glanced at Kit, wondering what she thought of all this bawdy talk. He supposed she was used to it by now, for she didn’t bat an eyelash. She was a cool one, he’d give her that.

  “Which woman does Kit prefer?” Ryan asked, earning a startled glance from Kit.

  Billy gave a loud guffaw. “Kit? That wet-behind-the-ears kid ain’t never had a woman to my knowledge. Won’t be long, though. He’s at an age where he’s probably hornier than a billy goat. Ain’t that right, Kit?”

  Kit chose not to answer, and Ryan was sorry he’d asked when Clank and Durango offered Kit some raunchy advice that must have burned her ears.

  “Let’s get going,” Ryan said in an effort to change the subject. “I can almost taste that tequila.”

  “Kit can ride with Ryan,” Billy said, mounting up.

  Ryan mounted and held out his hand for Kit. Ignoring the offer, she leaped up behind him.

  “If you’re going to ride pillion, you’d better put your arms around my waist. I don’t want you to fall off.”

  “I like this way better,” Kit rasped, grasping his belt instead.

  “Are you always so disagreeable?” Ryan taunted.

  “Always. Especially when nosy polecats like you ask too many questions.”

  Ryan bit back his smart retort. It wouldn’t do to make an enemy of Kit when she might hold the key to Kathryn’s whereabouts.

  “I’m sorry if I rubbed you the wrong way,” Ryan said. “I’m too new here to make enemies. How about a truce? I can be a good friend should you need one.”

  Kit mulled over Ryan’s offer. Lord knows she needed a friend. Especially with Lex gone. As far as brothers went, Lex left much to be desired, but he’d been all she had. She worried excessively about him. Was he dead? In jail awaiting trial? Or had a lynching mob already gotten hold of him?

  A friend. Kit wished she had the luxury of having a friend, but it was too dangerous. Friends demanded a certain sharing of thoughts that she couldn’t afford. Should the Bartons learn she was a woman, they would find an unpleasant use for her, and that she couldn’t bear. No, she decided. Becoming friends with Ryan was unthinkable.

  “A truce then,” Kit agreed. “But I don’t need no friends. Me and Lex kept to ourselves, we didn’t need anyone else.”

  “I’ll bet,” Ryan said. An undertone of sarcasm laced his voice as he imagined the intimate relationship between Lex and Kit.

  Conversation came to a halt as Ryan concentrated on guiding his horse over mesquite and cactus dotted ground and around washes, gullies, and ruts that could prove fatal to both horse and rider. The town rose stark against the blue sky and brown earth. It consisted of a cluster of flat-roofed adobe houses, wooden huts, a church situated in an open plaza, a general store, and a cantina. Chickens, goats, and children scattered as they rode into the plaza. Women stood in open doorways while old men chatted in groups around the plaza. The younger men could be seen working in the communal fields behind the church.

  Everything seemed to come to a standstill as the Bartons rode into town. If the town had a name it wasn’t posted anywhere within sight. The outlaws reined in before the cantina and dismounted. Ryan followed suit, trailing them inside. All five of them lined up at the scarred bar and ordered tequila. He watched with admiration as Kit knocked back her drink and smacked her lips. He wondered if she was a lush but decided she wasn’t when she declined a refill and strolled outside to wait for the others.

  Almost immediately the men were joined by two sloe-eyed senoritas, who, while not young, were still fresh enough to satisfy men who weren’t too choosy. Clank and Durango disappeared with them behind a grubby curtain, and before long Ryan heard sounds of sexual activity taking place.

  “Better get in line, Ryan,” Billy advised. “Later on the whores will be busy with their regular customers, and you don’t want them after they opened their legs for every man in town. That’s why we always come for the women early in the day.”

  “I think I’ll pass this time,” Ryan said. “I had a woman in Tombstone.” More than one if the truth be told. “Think I’ll go outside and keep young Kit company.”

  “Suit yourself,” Billy said. “I’m waitin’ on Carmen.”

  Ryan went outside, squinting against the blast of sunlight after the dimness of the cantina. He saw Kit sitting under a scrawny tree and went to join
her.

  “Are you finished already?” she asked, sending him a disgusted look. “You’re a fast one, ain’t you?”

  “I passed on the women,” Ryan said. “The tequila wasn’t bad, though.” He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  Kit looked at him with renewed interest. “You passed on the women? I’ll be damned. What’s with you? Are you partial to boys?” She scooted away from him. “If that’s your preference, just keep your distance, mister.”

  Ryan erupted into raucous laughter. Kit’s remark was the first time anyone had ever accused him of not liking women. “I like women just fine so you don’t have to worry. Besides, you’re a little too dirty for my tastes. It just so happens I don’t need a woman right now. What about you? Boys your age are usually randy as goats. If you need some pointers, I’ll be happy to tell you how to go about it.”

  “No, thanks,” Kit returned shortly. “I know what to do with a woman. I just ain’t ready yet.”

  Ryan’s dark brows cocked upward. He had to give Kit credit. She had an answer for everything. “Are you hungry? I can go back inside and get us a plate of beans and tortillas while we’re waiting for the others.”

  “I reckon I can eat something,” Kit allowed.

  “Be right back.”

  “If you change your mind about the women, I don’t mind waiting,” she called after him.

  Ryan chuckled all the way to the cantina.

  Chapter 2

  “How long have you known Lex?” Ryan asked as he shoveled beans in his mouth with his tortilla.

  “Long enough,” Kit said warily. “What’s it to you?”

  “Just curious. Billy said you and Lex have been with the gang four or five years, so you two must have been together at least that long. Where did you meet?”

  “Around.” Kit regarded him through slitted eyes. Ryan was far too inquisitive for her liking. Why was the outlaw so interested in Lex? Throughout the years she’d learned to keep her thoughts to herself and to communicate as little as possible with the other gang members. Just because Ryan seemed different from the others didn’t mean she should let her guard down. The strange attraction she felt for the handsome outlaw meant she had to be more vigilant than ever.