The Temptress

by Jude Deveraux

  Tynan barely looked at the outfit. “If you don’t get me some pants I’m—”

  “Here!” Red said, tossing him the leather pants.

  “Not on your life,” Ty answered, letting them fall where they landed. “I need—”

  “Wait a minute, Ty. There are six of them and one of you, and they have this place surrounded. Rachel said she saw a rifle on a roof so maybe there’s more than six of them. You walk out of here and they’ll never give you a chance. But they’re expectin’ what they know you look like. They ain’t expectin’ some fat, drunken ol’ snake oil dealer.”

  Tynan sat down on the bed. “I won’t wear that.”

  “You’d rather die than wear this?” Red gasped.

  “With my boots on and my own pants on. What if I was to get buried in that?”

  Red rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Of all the fool things I ever heard, that’s the worst. Look, Ty honey, how are you gonna save that girl if you’re dead? And that’s what you’ll be if you walk out of here wearin’ your own clothes. With this on, you can walk right out the front door. Ever’body will be so blinded by the diamonds and silver they’ll never even look at your face. And you ain’t even seen all of it yet, there’s white boots and silver guns with white handles and even silver bullets. It’s a real wingdinger of an outfit.”

  Ty sat on the bed, his jaw rigid.

  “You get yourself killed out there and I’ll see to it that you’re buried in this,” Red said.

  Ty shook his head. “I hope Mathison appreciates what I’ve gone through to get him his daughter back.”

  “Come on, let’s get busy. We gotta pad you to make this fit.”

  An hour later, Tynan stood surrounded by giggling females. Asher, smoking a one-inch diameter cigar, sat in a chair with Alice on his lap.

  “It suits you, Tynan,” Asher said. “It really suits you.”

  Red put her hand over Tynan’s, which was on his gun handle, as she checked his hair which was whitened with talcum powder.

  The women had sewn pillows in the long johns of the dead showman so that Ty could fill out the voluminous suit. He now had a belly that hung over his silver buckled belt, and they’d adjusted the pants so they hung down low, the crotch half way to his knees.

  “Too bad to cover that up,” Leora said, running her hand over his buttocks.

  “Now,” Red said, “you look ready, but you gotta get in the mood. That man come in here with pistols blazin’. You gotta go out the same way.”

  “I like to see you with pistols blazin’,” Leora said in Tynan’s ear.

  “He don’t have time for that now,” Red said. “You ready, Mr. Prescott?”

  “Any time.”

  “Then you can help him out, ’cause Ty, you’re too drunk to get out by yourself. You got that?”

  Tynan nodded silently.

  “The horse ready?” Red asked.

  “What horse?” Ty asked.

  “You’ll know it when you see it,” Asher laughed. “Believe me, you’ll know it.”

  Red clasped her arm firmly through Tynan’s. “Honey, I wanta see you again and this is the only way. Now, give me a kiss and go.”

  Ty held her for a minute, kissed her cheek then left the room, long, ornate spurs clinking on the wooden floor. At the top of the stairs, he halted, drew both the silver pistols and fired into the ceiling. The next minute he was down the stairs, women hanging onto him.

  “I’m meaner ’n a snake and twice as quick,” he bellowed, lurching forward, then he grabbed a woman and kissed her while firing a pistol into the ceiling and one at a table full of men. He hit two glasses of beer and narrowly missed a big cowboy.

  The cowboy got up and started toward Tynan, but Asher interposed his own body.

  “He’s drunk,” Asher said. “It was an accident.”

  “You’d better get him out a here,” the man growled, still standing, his gun hand loose.

  “I’m strong as a grizzly and as eagle-eyed as a hawk,” Ty yelled.

  “Come on, hawk, let’s get out of here,” Asher said, pushing Ty toward the door.

  “I can outride, outshoot, out—”

  Asher, seeing that Ty again had his pistol aimed toward the table of watching cowboys—probably Dysan’s men—knocked Ty’s arm upward so the shot hit the painting over the bar, making a hole in the plump buttocks of the nude woman in the painting.

  “I’m as tall as a fir tree and as ugly as a mule but the girls love me best ’cause I’m as hard and big as a ship’s oar,” Ty yelled as Ash pulled him out of the saloon.

  “Get on the damn horse,” Ash said, “before you get us killed.”

  Standing before them was a white skinned, pink eyed stallion wearing a white leather saddle. Ty didn’t even hesitate before jumping into the saddle, wrapping the reins about the pommel, then withdrawing a rifle from the sheath on the side. While standing in the stirrups, fringe flowing behind him, the horse galloping north out of town, Tynan began firing along the edges of the roofs. Some of the men hiding there stood to see what was going on and Ty shot within inches of them.

  Asher, on a horse following Ty, was sure he was as white as Tynan’s leather suit, but the men on the roof seemed to think they were being treated to a free show, and a couple even fired their rifles skyward in appreciation.

  Asher only began to breathe again when they were miles from the town, and abruptly, Tynan disappeared behind some trees. When Asher got to him, he was frantically searching through the white saddlebags.

  “What is it?” Asher asked, dismounting.

  “I was hoping there were some other clothes in here. Damn! But Red didn’t give me any.”

  “You seemed to do well enough with those. Did you realize you almost shot one of Dysan’s men?”

  “I counted eleven in all. How many did you get?”

  “How many what?”

  “Why did you think I made so much noise? I wanted them all to come see what the ruckus was. There were four inside, five on the roofs and two came around from back. I think there may be a couple more south of town. I give them two hours before they realize it was me wearing this thing. So we got two hours to get me all new duds and to get rid of this.” He looked at the pink-eyed horse in disbelief. “It’ll be like trying to hide a mountain in a dollhouse. I wish we could get somebody else to wear this. Then Dysan’s men could follow him and give us some time.”

  Asher snorted. “Oh yeah, and where are we going to find such a fool? I don’t know anybody who could be paid enough money to wear that and if you try to give it to somebody he’ll ask why. They’re sure to be suspicious. The best thing is to burn it. We’ve no hope of finding somebody stupid enough to wear it.”

  “I don’t know,” Ty said as he mounted, cursing as he had to pull fringe out from under him, “the world is full of all sorts of people.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tynan stood plastered up against the white wall of the building as if he hoped he could disappear. Asher was certainly taking his time in finding clothes to replace the white suit. There’d been a few minutes when Ty thought he was going to have to do something about Asher’s mouth—maybe shove it down his throat—but Ty had been able to persuade him that it was in his own best interests to help find new clothes.

  Slowly, Ty put his head around the building and looked to see if anyone was near. When he was sure the street was empty, he walked the two feet to the horse trough and put his head under. Asher’d had several comments to make on the smell of the French Lilac talcum powder Red had used to turn his hair white.

  Just as he was lifting his head from the water, he felt the unmistakable coldness of a gun barrel on his neck.

  “Say your prayers,” the man said, “cause this is your last minute alive.”

  “Lester Chanry,” Tynan said, drawing back and looking at him. He was a tall bean pole of a man with red hair that reached his scrawny shoulders. His face was covered with freckles, those being the only color on his face
since his eyebrows and lashes were so light as to appear nonexistent. He was wearing a bright red shirt with a four-inch-wide row of Indian beading across the shoulders and in his hair were three silver conchos. “Lester, it’s good to see you again. In fact, I was just talking about you.”

  “I’ll bet you were. Were you talking about how you killed my brother?”

  “That was an accident.”

  Lester pushed Tynan against the wall. “You killed him and now you’re gonna pay for it.”

  “It wasn’t me and you know it.”

  “That sheriff was chasin’ you and you might as well have killed him. You’re the one that’s gonna pay for it. Are you ready to die?”

  “Just so long as you promise to bury me in my new suit.”

  For the first time, Lester looked down at the gaudy garment Ty was wearing, and Tynan watched his face. “You’ll promise me that you’ll bury me in it, won’t you, Lester? It’s my dying wish and a man should have his last wish honored.”

  “Where’d you get duds like them?” Lester asked with awe in his voice.

  “A man had to give up his life before I could have these,” Tynan said. “You’ll promise me, won’t you?”

  “Well…. Maybe you’d sell ’em to me. I sure like those things.”

  “Sell them! What would I do with the money if I’m dead? What if I make you a deal? I’ll give them to you if you let me go free.”

  Lester pushed Ty back against the wall. “I’ll just shoot you and take ’em.”

  “I bleed real bad. If I cut myself shaving I get blood all over everything. It’d stain the suit so bad it wouldn’t be fit to wear and, besides, you’d miss out on the matching horse.”

  “Horse?” Lester asked. “Are you lyin’ to me, Tynan? If you are, I’ll—”

  “Lester, I’m fighting for my life. You don’t kill me and I’ll give you this white suit and a white horse with a white saddle.”

  “White saddle?” Lester gasped. “I ain’t never seen no white saddle. Tynan, if you’re havin’ me on I’ll—”

  “Just ease up on that pistol and I’ll take you to where the horse is hidden and I’ll give it to you, with a bill of sale. It’ll all be legal. But if you shoot me you’ll get a bloody suit—and you know how blood makes leather so stiff—and you’ll never find that horse. Some farmer’s kid’ll find it and have the one and only white saddle in existence. Did I tell you that it has little silver roundels on the bridle?”

  Lester took several minutes to consider what Tynan was saying while Ty lifted one arm to show off the dangling fringe.

  “All right, I’ll do it, but if you try to trick me I’ll—”

  “Try to trick one of the Chanrys? Lester, I didn’t get this old by being a fool. Come on, let’s go. It’ll be easier to part with my suit if we don’t take too long at this,” Ty said with a sigh.

  • • •

  As Chris descended the stairs, she tried to pull the top of the dress higher over her breasts, but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover what needed to be covered. With one glance at Pilar, she saw that the other woman was hanging out more than Chris ever hoped to be able to expose.

  At the bottom of the stairs, the two men stopped, abruptly leaving the women alone in a large room with brick floors and heavy furniture that was covered with silk scarves. It was a rich room with a few chairs, a small table against one wall and little else.

  There was a door to the left with a window next to it. Immediately, Chris went to the door and tried it but it was locked. Just as she was starting toward the window, a voice came from behind her.

  “You’ll find all the exits are locked, Miss Eskridge.”

  It was a voice she recognized. “You!” she said, turning on her heel.

  “I thought you would have guessed by now,” said Beynard Dysan. “After the way you followed me around the house and the forest land, I thought you’d know right away that I was the one who had you taken.”

  “I was following Owen,” she said in a half whisper. “Not you.”

  “I wasn’t to know that, was I? Will you ladies join me for dinner?”

  Involuntarily, Chris took a step backward, moving away from him.

  “We would be delighted,” Pilar said, taking Chris’s hand and pulling her forward as she took Dysan’s arm in her other hand. “We are starving.”

  Chris let Pilar talk as Dysan led them into a dining room because she wanted to regather her equilibrium. She had to get over her instinctive dislike of this man if she was to find out anything. By the time Dysan pulled a chair out for her, she was calm enough that she didn’t cringe away from him.

  When they were all seated and food was set before them, Dysan looked at Chris, at the foot of the long table, across from him, Pilar next to him, and said, “Now, what was that all about at Hamilton’s? What were you trying to find out?”

  Chris took her time in answering. She didn’t want to give away too much to this man without finding out what he knew. “My father…” she said, then filled her mouth full of food, taking her time in chewing.

  “Yes,” Dysan said, “I know your father committed suicide, but then that husband of yours had something to do with that, didn’t he?”

  Chris was sure now that Dysan didn’t know who she really was, that he thought she was actually Diana Eskridge. “Whit and I have…” She looked down at her food and managed to squeeze a tear from her eye. “I really do love him, but my father…”

  She looked up at Dysan through damp eyelashes and saw that he was looking at her with great impatience and a lip curled in distaste. Good, Chris thought, let him think that she was a meek, cowardly little thing. Pilar, after a few looks of disbelief at Chris, kept her eyes on the food.

  “What did you hope to find at Hamilton’s?” Dysan persisted, sounding as if her timidity repulsed him.

  “My cousin, Lionel, was in danger. I only meant to help. Why were we taken? What do you plan to do with us? I was only trying to help Lionel. And Pilar has nothing to do with this.”

  Dysan began to eat. “Consider yourself my guests. I fear that I cannot allow you the freedom of my house but you will have every comfort while you are here.”

  “But why are we here?” Chris said, leaning forward.

  Dysan merely looked at her and said nothing more.

  “They will come after us, you know,” Pilar said softly into the silence.

  “Do you mean that husband of yours? Do you think he’ll come and rescue you? Shall he threaten me with a garden rake?”

  “With a—” Chris said but cut herself off. “Someone will come to find us.”

  Dysan put down his fork and leaned back in his chair. “I have sent out over a hundred men to patrol the area between here and Hamilton’s. They are to shoot to kill anyone who even asks a question about one of you ladies or about me. I assure you that no one will come for you.”

  “Then it’s ransom you want?” Chris asked without thinking.

  “And how can I ransom you?” he asked as if the answer greatly interested him. “Who will pay for either of you?”

  “No one will pay money,” Pilar said quietly, “but someone might be willing to pay with his life. We will be found.”

  Dysan took a while to study Pilar, looking her up and down in a hot, insulting way. “Perhaps you’re right, but we shall see, won’t we? Now, I’m afraid that this is all the time I can spare you. You will be taken back to your room and you will wait there.”

  “Wait for what?” Chris said.

  “For when I decide what’s to be done with you,” Dysan said, then stood and left the room. Chris quickly wrapped some slices of beef in a napkin, and slipped the small package into her pocket. Seconds later, the two men who’d first kidnapped the women came into the room and escorted them back through the entryway and up the stairs to their room.

  “So what did we find out except that if we make him angry we don’t get to finish our meal?” Pilar asked when they were alone in the room. “Do you really
think he sent a hundred men to guard the trail behind us or do you think he was bragging?”

  Chris was looking out the window, considering how far it was to the ground. “I think that man is capable of any evil. Why are we here?” she half cried. “He doesn’t know who my father is so we’re not being held for ransom. I thought maybe, with these dresses, he’d decided he wanted one of us—physically, I mean—but that doesn’t seem to interest him. So what does he want?”

  “Do you know something that he doesn’t, something that he might want to know?”

  “Sure,” Chris said. “He thinks I know where the lost Inca treasure is. If he wanted to know something, why didn’t he ask us?”

  “But all he asked us was if we thought Tynan was coming after us,” Pilar said thoughtfully. “Do you think he’s after Ty?”

  Chris’s mouth set in a line. “It seems that the only people who take a great interest in Tynan are those on the side of law and order. I don’t think Dysan wants to arrest Tynan for whatever crime he’s committed this week.”

  Pilar looked at Chris for a while. “You certainly are angry at him, aren’t you? What’s he done to you?”

  “Made a fool of me, that’s all.” She sat down on the bed. “I don’t think Dysan wants Tynan. If he did, he could have had him in a much easier way than in this elaborate scheme. He could have taken him on a picnic and Tynan would have gladly shot it out with him. No, there’s something else. I think Dysan does know who my father is and we’re being held for ransom. Then the hundred guns makes sense because Dysan wouldn’t want anyone to interfere with his holding of us.”

  “Us?” Pilar said. “You’ve never explained why I’m here.”

  “Who knows? Pilar, do you think that if we tied those sheets together, they’d reach down to the ground?”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Pilar said, moving to look out the window. “Can’t you see those men with rifles out there? Do you think they’ll just wave at you as you climb down?”

  “Not if I do it at night.”

  “Chris,” Pilar said with great patience in her voice. “Let’s just wait here until your father pays the ransom and then we’ll be free.”