Luci winced, imagining her mother’s face as she must have looked less than twenty years ago with another young officer making perhaps the same offer to Sunrise. Had it happened on a blanket during a picnic?
She jerked her hand from his, shaking with rage. “You cad! You rotten bastard! Why was I so stupid to think-never mind!”
She got up and began to gather the picnic items.
Carter caught her arm. “There’s no reason to hurry back; we’ve got all afternoon.”
She pulled away from him, not looking at him as she finished packing the basket then walked over to put it in the back of the buggy. “I’ve got laundry to do.”
He caught her, pulled her to him, and turned her face up to his although she struggled to break free. “Don’t act so indignant, you little half-breed. You’ve probably let that scout mount you, so why turn up your nose at a white man?”
“You rotten–!” She tried to slap him, but he caught her hand, pinned it between them while they struggled. His mouth came down to cover hers, his hand pulling at her bodice, fumbling with the buttons so he could slide his hand down the front to cup her breast.
She had forgotten how small she was until she tried to fight her way out of his embrace. He kissed her so hard, his teeth cut her lip, smearing them both with her blood. “You little bitch! I’ve tried to behave like a gentleman, but I mean to have you here and now! But if you want to fight, I can deal with that!”
“Johnny’ll kill you for this!” She struggled, but he had her hands pinned to her sides while he pulled her bodice down.
“I’m not scared of that buck!” Carter sneered. “If you belong to him, what are you doing out here with me?”
“Good question,” a man’s voice said behind them and Carter whirled in surprise.
Luci blinked, then staggered as she tried to regain her balance.
Johnny Ace stood behind them in the shadows of the cottonwoods. “I put the word out that no man was to touch her.” His voice was almost a whisper, but the tone was as hard as his dark eyes.
Carter laughed. “I’m not afraid of you, Injun! I’m an officer. Officers get first choice!”
“Not with my woman, they don’t!” She saw him move even as he spoke, throwing all his sinewy strength and muscle behind the blow.
His fist caught Carter in the nose and sent him stumbling backward, blood dripping down his blue uniform. And then Johnny was on him.
Horrified, Luci watched them fight. They meshed and struggled, blows flying. “You two stop it! You’ll both be in trouble!” she yelled.
But neither man said anything or even acknowledged that they heard her. Carter stumbled to his feet, swung and missed. Like a graceful cougar, Johnny was on him again, smashing his fist into the aristocratic face.
They rolled over and over in the dirt, under the hooves of the buggy horse, which snorted and stepped sideways while the men scrambled and clashed.
There was nothing Luci could do but watch.
Now Carter managed to get in a blow, connecting with Johnny’s chin. The sound seemed loud in the meadow’s stillness as Johnny stumbled and went down. Carter landed on top of him, striking him with both fists in the face.
Luci couldn’t control herself anymore. “Stop that, Carter!” She ran over and began beating him on the back with her small fists.
But quick as a cat, Johnny scrambled out from under the other man. They lunged at each other again like fighting, rearing stallions, fists cracking on bone, blood flying.
Finally, Johnny’s fist connected solidly with Carter’s chin and the other man went down like a crashing tree and lay still. The Pawnee stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his mouth.
She didn’t quite know what to say. “Johnny. . . .”
“Forget it!” he snapped, brushing the dirt from his clothes. “Get in the buggy, I’ll take you back.”
She looked over at the officer, now struggling to sit up, still groggy. “What about him?”
“Let him walk . . . if he’s able.”
Johnny didn’t even glance at the man as he took Luci’s arm and propelled her toward the buggy. “You’re lucky I was out on patrol and stopped to water Katis at the creek or I wouldn’t have been here to help.”
She let him help her into the buggy, annoyed by the possessive way he gripped her arm. “I look after myself.”
“And you were doing such a good job of it!” His tone was sarcastic as he tied Katis on behind the buggy and climbed up beside her. “If I hadn’t happened along, you’d have gotten raped.” He slapped the horse with the reins and the buggy started off.
“It’s not as if I had any innocence to lose,” she snapped back, and then was immediately sorry as she saw the hurt in his dark eyes.
“I told you that night you might regret it, and now I see you do.”
“No, I–I–what happened that night was as much my fault as yours.”
“I don’t have regrets. I’m sorry you do, Luci.” He looked straight ahead as he drove back to the fort.
She wasn’t sure whether she had regrets. Finally she said, “You’ll probably get in trouble over this.”
“It was worth it.” Johnny smiled with satisfaction, rubbing his skinned knuckles, his discolored, bruised face. “He’ll stay out of my way.”
Luci sighed. “You won’t have to worry about crossing his path for a while. The major’s sending him to Denver.”
He looked at her sharply. “You seem to know a lot about the army’s business.”
His tone hinted at something she couldn’t quite understand. “Mercy! I don’t know what you’re driving at. We just talked, that’s all. You know how men will talk to impress a girl.”
She couldn’t read his expression. “Luci,” he said, “just whose idea was this picnic anyway?”
Now she was totally bewildered. “What difference does it make? You’re opposed to picnics?”
Johnny frowned. “Never mind. Things are beginning to look clearer to me now. The major said . . .”
She waited for him to continue, but his voice trailed off and he didn’t speak to her the rest of the way back to the fort.
Chapter Eleven
Manning Starrett glared with disgust at his housekeeper and threw his napkin into his supper plate. “Slop! Just slop!” he drawled. “I want to see steak and fried green tomatoes and corn pone on this table! What good is it to be the richest man in Denver if I can’t eat what I like?”
The tall, bony woman bustled to move his plate, fear on her lined features. “Tomatoes are a little hard to come by this early in Denver,” she said apologetically, “and I was trying to follow your doctor’s orders, sir, he said with arthritis, a simple diet–”
“Simple? I’ll tell you who’s simple, my doctor!” He reached for his cane and struggled to his feet. “Goddamn it to hell! He doesn’t pay your salary, Mrs. Polinski, I do! Remember that or you’ll be looking for a new position, not easy to find for a stupid immigrant!”
“Yes, sir.” Properly humbled, she took the plate, her hand shaking.
Manning lit one of the big, black cigars he loved. “Billy send a message?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Reno said he’d see you at the office. Sir, you know what your doctor said about getting more rest and smoking cigars–”
“God damn it to hell! I’ll have plenty of time to rest when I’m dead! If that doctor’s so smart, why isn’t he rich like me? Tell Josh to bring my carriage around!”
Leaning on his cane, he hobbled out of the ornate dining room. If his daughter would only arrive to take charge of things, Manning thought, avoiding looking in the ornate hall tree mirror. Once he had been the handsomest man in Mobile with his black, wavy hair and bright blue eyes. Now he was fifty and looked seventy. If only his doting mama could know what had become of her youngest child.
Arthritis! Manning snorted at the doctor’s stupidity. Why, back in Alabama, the man wouldn’t be allowed to doctor a horse! He couldn’t figure out what was killing the most pro
minent man in the Colorado Territory, but Manning knew. A trip to a top clinic back East some years ago had confirmed what, deep in his heart, Manning had already guessed. He reached in his pocket for the mercury capsules, and swallowed one. Not that the damned stuff seemed to be doing him any good.
He took a defiant puff of the cigar smoke then hobbled to the etched glass door. No cure. The words echoed and reechoed in his mind. He had known it was coming because of Clara’s death. But he didn’t want to die that way, screaming out his life in an asylum. He wouldn’t think about that. His daughter was coming any day now and she’d look after him as the disease progressed.
Josh came to open the door of the grand Victorian house for him and helped him out to the carriage. When the black driver was clumsy as he assisted him, Manning rapped him sharply across the shins with his cane. “Be careful, nigger, if you value your job! I’m surrounded by fools and thieves and idiots!”
“Sorry, Mr. Starrett, suh.” He saw the ill-disguised hatred and fear in the black’s eyes before he closed the door and the carriage moved away from the curb.
Manning leaned back with a sigh and enjoyed the taste of his cigar. He was undoubtedly the richest man in Denver and therefore the most powerful. He was also the most hated. He didn’t care. He grinned, thinking about it. There were only two people in the world he cared about: Bill Reno and Lily. He’d wait to pass judgment on Winnifred when she finally got here from Fort McPherson. After all, he hadn’t seen her since just before the war began, when he’d gone back to sign the papers committing Clara.
Billy came out to help him from his carriage, gently assisting him inside. “How do you feel today, Manning?”
“How do I feel every day?” Manning drawled grumpily. “Like hell, that’s what!”
“I understand,” Billy soothed, helping him to a comfortable chair. “Arthritis must be a terrible thing to bear.”
He hadn’t even told Billy, afraid the young man would withdraw from him in horror. He liked Billy even if he was a Yankee. More than that, he needed Billy. When he looked at the dapper, charming protege, he saw himself as he had been at that age. It was almost like looking in a mirror. Billy had even started to wear the same type of suits and ties Manning wore. If he’d just do something about his bottom teeth. But still . . .
Looking Billy over, he grunted in approval. “I hope my daughter likes you. We could be just one big, happy family. Right now, it’s pretty lonely rattling around in that big empty place.”
Billy patted his arm. “I hope she likes me, too, Manning. Since she’s your daughter, I’m bound to like her.”
Manning beamed at him as Billy went over to the sideboard, poured a bourbon, and brought it back to him.
“A Southern gentleman’s drink,” Manning drawled. “In the old days, a slave would bring me one in the evening on the veranda after I’d be looking over the cotton planting. Why, I recollect one time–” He paused. “Have I told you the story before?”
“No, and I’d just love to hear it,” the man said smoothly, pouring himself a drink. “You’re the most interesting person I ever met.”
Manning beamed at him and sipped his whiskey. “For a damned Yankee from Ohio, you’re not too far from being a real gentleman–charming, our Southern gals would say.”
“You eat?”
“Paw! Slop! That idiot doctor–”
“I’ll send Josh for something.” He stood up and went quickly to the door.
“Never mind.” Manning grinned expansively. “I’m going to Lily’s later. But I like the way you try to look out for me.”
“What are friends for?” Billy said, and smiled carefully, the way he always did, self-conscious over the gap where he was missing his two lower front teeth.
He must see about getting Billy to a dentist back East who might make him some false bridgework or even those implants dentists were trying to do. Winnifred might not cotton to a man with missing teeth.
“Yes, sir,” Manning said expansively, now thinking aloud. “You’ll make a hellava son-in-law, Billy. My daughter better think so, too, or I’ll cut her out of the will.”
“Aw, don’t even think about that.” Billy blushed. “Winnifred might not like me any better’n Lily does.”
“I been meanin’ to say something to Lily about that.” It was embarrassing to him that his mistress made no bones about how much she disliked his protégé. “Maybe it would be better, though, if I sent you back East and got your teeth fixed. Women sometimes don’t understand about men behavin’ like men–fistfighting and all that.”
“I was younger and hot-tempered in those days–”
“Goddamn it to hell, Billy, don’t make any apologies to me for being a man’s man. I was that kind myself in my younger days. Might have gotten higher than captain in the army if I hadn’t been such a hell-raiser!” He chuckled, enjoying the memory.
“I never did quite understand what a Southerner was doin’ in the Union army.” Billy ran his tongue around the gap in his teeth.
“Got in long before the war just to get away from a naggin’ wife.” Manning leaned on his cane. “Then when I saw there was gonna be war, I decided which side was most likely to win.” He winked. “Good business man wants to be on the winnin’ side.”
“You’re a smart one, all right. I’ll never be the man you was, Manning, but maybe you can teach me a little of your smarts.” He fingered the diamond stickpin in his tie.
“Hell, boy! Stick with me, and I’ll make you rich. You remind me of myself at your age.”
Billy blushed, then shrugged. “I’m willin’ to learn anything you can teach this poor Yankee, Manning. But I’ll never be as successful nor as good-lookin’. I’ll bet you was a devil with the ladies. Cigar?”
“Yep, I was. And don’t I always want a cigar?” He took one from the box Billy offered, and let the younger man light it for him. “I trust you, Billy. Matter of fact, you and Lily, y’all are the only two in the world I trust.” Manning smoked, thinking about his dark, sultry mistress.
He had always had a weakness for women–dark women. Clara, of course, had been homely, blond-and an heiress. After he’d gone through his doting mama’s fortune, he’d looked around for more. Manning had gradually gone through everything Clara owned after the wedding, except the plantation and it wasn’t worth enough to sell. The land was worn out from cotton.
“I’m mighty proud to be your friend, sir, and I hope someday to be just like you.” Billy grinned. “I wish Lily and me could at least get in the same room without a fuss; it makes it hard on you, always havin’ to referee.”
“It is touchy,” Manning admitted, sipping his whiskey. “I wish you never had to go to her place at all, but with you handling so much of my business and havin’ to check her books, you’ll just have to try to keep peace with her.”
Billy made a face. “I don’t know what you see in her, honest I don’t.” He shook his head, running his tongue through the gap in his teeth.
“Now, boy, she ain’t but half a dozen years older than you. For almost forty, Lily is still a very pretty woman.”
“If you say so, boss. Of course, women like you better than me. Sometime you need to give me some pointers.”
“I was always a lady’s man.” Manning leaned back in his chair and grinned. “You’re handsome, Billy, maybe you just need a few hints on how to be charming to ladies.”
“If every woman in the world was crazy about me, Lily would still hate my guts, but I try to keep peace with her for your sake, Manning.”
Lady’s man. How many had there been? Hundreds. And somewhere down the line, one of them had given him this death warrant. Manning had known he had it when he first began sleeping with Lily. But he didn’t care enough about her to deny himself her body. He wondered if he had passed it on to his mistress.
“I trust you, Billy. In fact, just got through putting your name down to have power of attorney so you can take better care of my business without havin’ to bother me about s
o many details on days I’m not feelin’ well.”
Billy looked worried. “I wish you hadn’t done that, boss. Lily won’t like it and maybe your daughter won’t either–”
“I’m still not so sick yet that I’m not in charge of my own empire,” Manning snapped, and banged his cane for emphasis. “Those two better keep their mouths shut. I’ll do what I damn well please and I pride myself on being a good judge of men and horses. You’re just like me-more like me than a son, if I had one. I trust you to look after my business!”
“Which brings me to the latest news.” Billy looked around as if afraid the walls might hear and leaned closer. “The shipment’s in.”
“Good!” Manning sipped his drink. “Did I tell you I had to get a partner, Banker Peabody in Boston, to help on this?”
“As rich as you are?”
“It’d look suspicious if I pulled a lot of money out of local banks. Besides, old Peabody is the one who had the connections back East to get us this deal to begin with.”
“You’re smart, Manning,” Billy said with admiration. “I always say you’re the smartest man I ever met.”
“No, I just have the knack for picking loyal employees who look out for my interests.”
“I’m more than that, I hope. I’m your friend, Manning.”
“And maybe sometime soon, my- son-in-law. I can’t last forever, the shape I’m in–”
“Now let’s not talk about that,” Billy soothed. “People with arthritis live to die of old age.”
He was tempted then to tell Billy the truth; then decided against it. People were always terrified of catching this disease, although it wasn’t very contagious in its late stages. Wild oats, he thought. A man sows wild oats and comes up with weeds.
Instead, he said, “Tell me about the shipment. Good as last time?”
Bill grinned, his eyes sparkling with greed. “Brand new Winchester repeaters. Three big wagon loads of them. They came in packed under flour, salt, and calico.”
Manning laughed and banged his cane against the floor. “We make double on this deal! Starrett Freight Lines can charge more for flour because the Injun scare has most of the supply lines shut down and we sneak in guns to sell to the Injuns who keep the lines shut down!”
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