by Connie Mason
The saloon was busier and rowdier than ever tonight, it being a Saturday when cowhands crowded into town to drink and carouse. Ryan had spent the day making provisions for the trip to Tucson and hadn’t seen Kitty since he’d left her sleeping soundly in her bed. She’d looked like an angel with her riot of short tousled curls framing her beautiful face. The sheet had slipped down to her waist, and he had watched with avid interest as her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took. Firm and rosy-tipped, he recalled how their weight overflowed his hands, and it had taken considerable willpower to turn and walk away from all that glorious womanhood.
As if thinking about Kitty had conjured up her image, he saw her carrying a pitcher of beer to customers seated at a nearby table. She hadn’t seen him yet, and he preferred it that way. For the time being he just wanted to sit and observe her.
She was dressed in sunny yellow satin tonight, and her short mop of curls was tied back from her face with a matching ribbon. She looked harried and tired, and he felt a twinge of remorse for keeping her up so late the night before. His gaze settled on her partially exposed bosom, and rage seethed through him. Seeing her exposed like that made him want to punch out the men ogling her.
He leaped to his feet when he saw one of the drunken cowhands reach down the front of Kitty’s dress and pinch her breast as she bent over the table. Ryan was halfway across the room when he saw Kitty, her eyes shooting blue fire, slap the man’s face. He silently applauded her courage and returned to his table. But he hadn’t reckoned with the cowhand’s reaction. The man pulled Kitty onto his lap and held her down as he ruthlessly plundered her tender breasts, while his drunken friends laughed and urged him on.
Ryan leaped forward again, but he couldn’t reach Kitty in time to prevent the cowhand from lifting her skirts and pinching her bottom. Nor could he stop curious onlookers from viewing a pair of curvaceous legs and thighs. Ryan pushed through the crowd in a blind rage. When he reached Kitty he tore her from the cowhand’s lap.
“What the hell?” the cowhand said, staggering to his feet. “Go find yer own woman, mister, this one’s mine.” He made a grab for Kitty, but she successfully scooted out of his reach.
“The lady doesn’t like being pawed,” Ryan said, shoving Kitty behind him.
“Says who?” the cowhand challenged. “Besides, any woman who works in a saloon ain’t no lady.” He fixed Kitty with a bleary-eyed gaze. “Name yer price, honey. I’m hankerin’ fer more than a feel.”
“The lady isn’t for sale,” Ryan said, answering for Kitty.
“I say she is,” the cowhand said belligerently. “And I got friends to back me up.” His companions moved closer as his hand slid toward his weapon.
“Get out of here, Kitty,” Ryan hissed. “Meet me back at the house.”
“No, there are too many of them. Leave. I can handle this.”
“Sure, like you were doing so well before I intervened,” Ryan said sarcastically. “Do as I say.”
“Don’t listen to him, honey,” the cowhand said. “You can leave with me if ya want. I’ll make it right with yer boss. I got me a pocketful of money and can afford to pay fer yer time.”
Kitty’s mind worked furiously. She’d do anything to stop gunplay, if it came to that. She’d seen the cowhand in the saloon before. He always came with a bunch of rowdy friends ready and willing to come to his aid. Unfortunately Chet Marlow had business elsewhere tonight and wasn’t around to stop the fight. And the bartender was outnumbered. If she wanted to save Ryan, she had to act fast.
“Very well, I’ll go with you,” she said, refusing to look at Ryan. Had she done so, she would have seen the look of utter disbelief on his handsome features. “We can go to my place, it’s just down the street.”
The cowhand gave her a lopsided grin. “I knew you’d see it my way, honey. Let’s go.”
“Like hell!” Ryan shouted. “Are you mad, Kitty?”
“Let me handle this, Ryan,” Kitty pleaded, finally looking at him. She wished she hadn’t, for his face was as dark and turbulent as a thundercloud.
“Yeah, let the little lady alone,” the cowhand warned. “She knows what she’s doin’.”
“I doubt that,” Ryan said harshly. He grasped Kitty’s arm, as if preparing to drag her away.
Suddenly his arms were pinned behind him by two of the cowhand’s rowdy companions. “You heard what the lady said, mister,” one of the men said. “She wants to go with Sparky.”
“Shall we go?” Sparky said, grabbing her arm and staggering toward the swinging doors.
“Damn you, Kitty,” Ryan yelled, straining against his captors.
Kitty knew he was confused and angry, but that was better than being dead. Where was Marshal Earp when she needed him? Not that the law on the Western outposts was very effective.
“Just a minute,” Kitty said. “I want to get my wrap.”
“Don’t be long,” Sparky said, burping loudly. “I got a rock in my pants that’s gettin’ bigger and harder by the minute.”
“Don’t let him go,” Kitty said, gesturing toward Ryan. “He thinks I belong to him.”
“He ain’t goin’ nowhere, lady,” Sparky’s friends assured her.
Kitty hurried away, Ryan’s curses ringing in her ears.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Nellie asked as she followed Kitty into the kitchen.
“I’m afraid Ryan will get hurt,” Kitty said. “I can take care of Sparky.”
She found her wrap and threw it over her shoulders, patting her pocket to make sure the gun she carried was still there. It was. Squaring her shoulders, she left the kitchen and joined Sparky. Ryan looked as if he wanted to kill her as they left the saloon.
Kitty was making plans as she walked down the dark street with Sparky. She didn’t really want to shoot the man and considered her options. As he staggered along beside her, she realized he was even more drunk than she had originally thought. Heartened, she decided she could easily handle one drunk without using her gun. Before making her move, she waited until they were too far from the saloon to be heard. She stopped abruptly when they came abreast of a dark alley.
“Huh? Whatsa matter, honey?” Sparky asked, slurring his words. “You ain’t changed yer mind, have ya? I might be drunk but I can still handle one small woman.” He clutched his crotch. “I got somethin’ here yer gonna like.”
“I’m sure I will,” Kitty cooed. “But I don’t think I can wait. How about a little kiss now?” She backed him up against a dark building, pressing herself against him.
“Yer a hot little piece, ain’t ya? Pucker up, honey, I don’t mind handin’ out a few kisses.”
“You’re gonna get more than a few kisses, bastard!” Kitty rasped as she drew back her knee and rammed it into his crotch.
Sparky made a gagging sound deep in his throat and doubled over. “Ya bitch!” he screamed, clutching his balls as he fell, writhing, to the ground.
Kitty felt little remorse as she watched him hit the dirt with a loud thud. But when he went suddenly still, she feared she’d killed him. A quick examination of the stricken cowboy revealed a huge lump on his head, and Kitty assumed that he had hit his head on a protruding corner of the building when he’d fallen. He was out cold but far from dead. In a few hours he would wake up with a gigantic headache. And hopefully he wouldn’t remember what had happened tonight. But first she had to get rid of him. Grasping his arms, she pulled him into the alley where he couldn’t be seen by passersby.
Ryan strained against his captors, listening to their coarse jokes about Kitty and Sparky and what they were doing now. Sparky’s friends held a gun on him while they drank and remarked upon Kitty’s attributes. Ryan saw red when they wagered on who would be next to win her favors.
Ryan found it difficult to believe that Kitty had agreed to go with Sparky. Kitty wasn’t a whore. No one knew it better than he. She’d been a virgin until last night. No other man had ever touched her. Blind, unmitigated rage sent
adrenaline coursing through his veins. Kitty was too damn naive for her own good. Did she think her sacrifice was going to save him? If she thought she could outwit Sparky, or use her strength to hold him off, she was sadly mistaken. No, he had to do something to save the little fool from her folly.
“Drinks for everyone,” Ryan shouted above the din. “I’m paying.”
“Huh? Why would you do that?” one of Sparky’s companions asked.
“Because I’ve changed my mind about you fellas. I don’t own Kitty, she can bed the whole damn lot of you for all I care. There are plenty of other women around, so who needs her? How about it? Let’s all belly up to the bar, it’s on me.”
Men began crowding up to the bar. When Sparky’s companions saw the others being served free drinks, they dragged Ryan to the bar with them, demanding their share. Ryan reached into his vest pocket, removed several gold coins, and tossed them on the bar.
“Keep the drinks coming,” he told the bartender, pretending to join in the revelry.
Before long the reason for keeping Ryan in the saloon was forgotten as men fought to find a place at the bar where free drinks were flowing like water. Amidst the disorder, Ryan was able to slip away. He was out the door and away before anyone realized he was gone.
Ryan didn’t take the time to retrieve his horse from the livery as he raced down the street toward Kitty’s small house. His fists were clenched, his face a mask of fear. He would kill Sparky if he had hurt Kitty. As for Kitty, he couldn’t decide whether he would kiss her or strangle her once he got his hands on her. He was rushing past a dark alley when he thought he saw a movement. A flash of color. Yellow silk. He came to a screeching halt just as Kitty sauntered out of the alley, looking extremely satisfied with herself.
She saw Ryan and gave him a saucy grin. “What took you so long?”
Chapter 7
Ryan regarded Kitty with no little amount of concern. All he could think to say was, “Are you all right?”
She dusted off her skirts. “I’m fine.”
Relief, sharp and poignant, shuddered through Ryan. And something else. Anger. Rich, ripe anger. He grasped her shoulders and gave her a hard shake.
“Little fool! What did you hope to accomplish by your dangerous game back there?”
“I was expecting a thank you for saving your life,” she said tartly.
“At what cost?” Ryan retorted. “You could have been raped, or hurt, or worse. You should have trusted me. I would have thought of something.” He looked around and frowned, suddenly aware that someone was missing. “What did you do with Sparky?”
“He’ll be nursing a headache in the morning,” Kitty said, obviously pleased with herself. “Not to mention aching balls.”
Ryan groaned. “Ladies don’t mention men’s private parts. Especially not in vulgar language.”
Kitty frowned. “What are they if they’re not ba—”
“Kitty, for God’s sake, leave off. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“I just proved a point, didn’t I, Ryan?” Kitty asked sweetly as he grasped her hand and dragged her off down the street. “I ain’t a lady. I’ll never be a lady. I don’t know the right words, and having to monitor my speech every minute ain’t worth it.”
Ryan grit his teeth in frustration. “For your information, Kitty, you kicked Sparky in his testicles.”
“That sounds ridiculous,” Kitty said. “I know where I kicked Sparky and it was his ba—”
“Dammit, Kitty,” Ryan interrupted, trying to keep the laughter from his voice. “Just forget it for now. We can concentrate on refining your speech during the trip to Tucson. You aren’t ignorant. I’ve heard you speak better than that. Try to remember what your mother taught you before Lex took you away to live with outlaws.”
“I already told you I ain’t goin’ with you,” Kitty proclaimed defiantly.
When they reached her house, Ryan held his hand out for the key. With marked reluctance she handed it to him and glowered sullenly as he unlocked the door and held it open for her. She marched inside and started to close the door in his face. He pushed it open and followed her inside. He slammed the door shut and turned to confront her. Muted lamplight cast her face in shadows, but Ryan could tell she wasn’t as composed as she wanted him to believe. That little episode with Sparky had to have been stressful despite her outward calm.
“Consider this, Kitty,” Ryan said in a reasonable tone of voice. “What do you suppose Sparky is going to do when he wakes up in the alley with a splitting head and aching ba… testicles? He’s going to be mad as hell and hot for revenge. Neither you nor I are going to be safe in this town after today. And you’re sadly mistaken if you think your boss will take you back. Not after he hears about the ruckus you caused.”
It was clear to Ryan that his logic had gotten through to Kitty, for her brow furrowed.
“I suppose you’re right,” she allowed.
Ryan knew her answer was grudgingly given and felt an unaccustomed twinge of pity. But he was giving her no choice. Tombstone was too damn dangerous for both of them. The sooner Kitty was safely with Bert, the sooner he could return to Montana. After this little escapade, a rancher’s life no longer seemed dull and boring.
“I know you’re frightened at the prospect of being thrust into a new and strange environment,” he cajoled. “Meeting your father for the first time will probably be a traumatic experience. But I’ll be there, Kitty, at least for a time.”
“I don’t know what my reaction will be when I meet my father,” Kitty admitted. “I don’t want to be deliberately cruel to a dying man but I can’t pretend something I don’t feel. I hate my real father, though I’ve never met him. And we both know he’s going to be ashamed of me.”
Ryan felt something inside him begin to crumble. He’d felt compassion so seldom in the past that he scarcely recognized it now. Without volition his arms reached for her, bringing her against the hard wall of his chest. “We know nothing of the sort. Besides, I won’t let anyone hurt you, love.”
She clutched his shoulders, her blue eyes intent upon his face. “Do you swear, Ryan?”
Ryan swallowed a groan. Kitty might act tough, but she was faced with more fears and problems than a woman her age should have to bear. Her fragile vulnerability spoke to him in the most elemental way. It brought out a protectiveness in him that was utterly foreign to his nature. He’d do anything for his brothers, of course, but Kitty was a whole new canvas on which to paint these unfamiliar emotions.
Ryan’s first reaction to his feelings was to run. As far and as fast as he could. This whole situation was becoming too personal. He didn’t want to be drawn into Kitty’s complicated life, but that’s exactly what was happening. Involvement meant caring. Caring could lead to commitment, something he’d resisted all his life. He didn’t want to be controlled by any one woman. He liked variety. He enjoyed flitting from woman to woman, sampling their charms, then moving on to new conquests.
Ryan’s second reaction was to hold Kitty securely in his arms and promise her whatever she wanted if it would ease her fright. However much he wanted to follow his first reaction, his second won out.
“I swear it, love. Now give me a kiss and go to bed. I’ve already purchased the supplies we’ll need for our journey, so we can get an early start tomorrow. I’ll bring along a packhorse to carry our supplies and your belongings. I have few personal belongings of my own; I’ve been traveling light.”
Kitty nodded jerkily. “I’ll be ready.” She lifted her face for his kiss and seemed almost disappointed when he gave her a light peck on the lips.
“I don’t dare give you the kind of kiss we both want,” he said regretfully. “We both know where that would lead. And right now you need to rest. Lock the door after I leave.”
Kitty locked the door behind Ryan and went directly to the bedroom. She was glad Ryan hadn’t asked to stay the night. No matter how difficult, she would have refused him. She had meant it when she’d vowed not
to let Ryan make love to her again. She knew instinctively that she would lose a little more of her heart to the charming rogue each time she allowed him to love her. When he walked out of her life, and she knew he would, she would have to go on without him.
As she packed her saddlebags and prepared for bed, she spared a few moment’s thought on the dying man who waited for her in Tucson. Intuition told her the meeting wasn’t going to go as smoothly as Ryan predicted. Besides her own reluctance to be someone she wasn’t, there was the stepsister Ryan had mentioned. Were she in Teresa’s place, Kitty was sure she wouldn’t welcome an interloper into her comfortable life. Time would tell, she sighed as she climbed into bed.
Ryan arrived promptly at eight the following morning. He was pleased to find Kitty dressed in a split riding skirt and waiting. While she packed some last-minute items she’d forgotten, he saddled her mare. She was locking the front door when he led her mount around to the front to join his gelding and the packhorse he’d purchased early this morning and loaded with supplies.
“I hope the windows are still intact when I return,” Kitty remarked.
“If you return,” Ryan countered as he helped her to mount. He led the way out of town, waiting for her to catch up so he could continue their conversation. “I heard through the grapevine that Sparky was pretty upset when he woke up in the alley and realized what had happened.”
“Upset is mild compared to what he’s probably feeling right now,” Kitty said dryly.
“Needless to say, it’s a good thing you’re leaving. He and his friends could make life pretty miserable for you.”
Without waiting for an answer, he spurred his horse forward, leaving that uncomfortable thought for Kitty to ponder.
They camped that night beneath a bluff rising above a desert of cactus. They were fortunate to find a trickle of water in a narrow stream running past their campsite, and Ryan led the horses to drink while Kitty gathered the supplies and pots she would need to prepare an evening meal.