Love on the Line

by Deeanne Gist

  “I’m aware of that.”

  Lacing her fingers together, she kept her tone level. “Are you using me, Luke?”

  He jerked up straight. “What?”

  “Are you using me? Wooing me and sparking me in order to enlist my help in your search for Frank Comer?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why are you wooing me?”

  He shifted in his chair. “I told you. I love you.”

  “I remember. Yet a month has passed and you haven’t said it again, nor have you made your intentions at all clear.”

  “I love you.” He repeated the declaration quickly and with no waver in his voice.

  Her heart warmed, but she wondered if just once he’d say it without being prompted.

  “I love you, too,” she replied, then waited for him to give her the rest of it. The intentions part. When he remained silent, she lowered her gaze to shield her hurt.

  “I think about you all the time,” he said. “About us. I don’t know what to do. My job is—well, it’s not very conducive to married life.”

  She smoothed her hand across the cover of the book in her lap. “So you don’t plan to marry?”

  “I hadn’t. Until I met you. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “I see.” Moistening her lips, she looked up. “And when do you think you’ll reach a decision?”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands against his pant legs. “I guess I was trying to keep my focus on finding Comer. Then, once that was done, I figured I’d cross that bridge.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to be an afterthought. “Well, while you’re making your decision, I think it best if we not, um, spark, if you will.”

  A crease formed between his brows. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “No more kissing, touching, spooning. That sort of thing.”

  “But, it’s the best part of my day. It’s all I can do to keep my hands to myself as much as I already am. I can’t just not touch you.”

  “I don’t like it any better than you, but the more we spark, the more attached I become, and . . . well, I just need to know where this is going. And if it’s going nowhere, then I need to stop. Immediately.”

  He scooted to the edge of his chair. “It’s not going nowhere. It’s going somewhere. I just don’t know where yet. I’ve got to sort it out, is all.”

  She nodded. “You can sort it without sparking.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging more curls. “Can’t you give me a couple days’ warning? So I can adjust to the idea?”

  “You mean, spark for two more days and then discontinue?”

  “Exactly.”

  She held back her smile. “I’m afraid not.”

  “So just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers, “you expect me to just . . . stop?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about tonight? Are you going to kiss me good-bye tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Not even one last time?”

  “No.”

  He jumped to his feet. “What are we supposed to do, then? Shake hands?”

  “I’m not telling you to quit coming over or quit spending the evenings with me. I’m just saying we need to pull back a little on the . . . other until you decide how you feel.”

  “Pull back? Pull back? You’re not pulling back, you’re chopping me off at my knees.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to stop kissing any more than he did, but she knew on some deeper level she needed to protect herself. The hurt would be devastating enough. No need to compound it further.

  And if he decided to marry her . . . well, then they’d have a lifetime to make up for the kisses they’d missed.

  He paced in front of her. “Listen, I’m sorry I asked you to eavesdrop on those calls. You don’t have to do that. I take it back.”

  “One has nothing to do with the other.”

  He stopped. “It does. You think I’m using you. I’m not, but I can see how you’d think that. So forget I asked.”

  “Give me the names and I’ll listen in. I want the Comer Gang caught just as much as you do.”

  His chest rose and fell. A tic at the back of his jaw began to beat. “No. It was a bad idea.”

  Putting the book aside, she rose. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”

  Hurt flashed in his eyes before it transformed to anger. “I won’t be changing my mind. And I’m not sure if I’ll make it by tomorrow night or even the next. I’ve got a lot of work to do right now.”

  “I see.” She clasped her hands to keep them from trembling.

  His lips thinned. “I guess I’ll see myself out.”

  Striding to the hat rack, he grabbed his hat, then slammed out the door.

  She collapsed onto the couch as if she’d been a marionette and her strings had all been severed. Placing her hands over her face, she curled up and sobbed. She was so confused. What if he decided to quit courting her? It was just a kiss. What harm was there in a kiss?

  Drawing in a shuddering breath, she swiped her eyes. There wasn’t a thing wrong with a kiss. But if he quit courting her because she held them back, then his reasons for coming around would be pretty clear.

  If, however, he continued to seek her out and spend his evenings with her, knowing full well the only “reward” he’d receive for his efforts would be her company, well, that would also be telling.

  Sniffling, she drew her knees up more tightly. The longer she lay there, the more peace she had about her decision. She wanted to know if she was enough for him as is. If she was, he’d be back. If she wasn’t, then she’d rather know now, before her heart was any more engaged.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Luke couldn’t find Duane and Necker. The longer he looked, the angrier he became. What if something were happening tonight? What if the gang decided to rob a train while he was twiddling his thumbs at Georgie’s house?

  He never should have started calling on her. What had he been thinking? He’d come to Brenham to do a job. Finish a job. The captain had made it clear, this was his last chance to collar Comer. If he failed again, he’d be pulled off the hunt and Harvey would take over.

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen. Luke would find Comer and bring him in, with Duane, Necker, and whoever else was involved. Georgie had made him soft. Distracted. He’d even begun to feel sorry for Duane.

  Well, no more. He was done fooling around. He wanted that gang and he wanted them now. And the minute he found Comer, he’d make his arrests, then hightail it out of here.

  The thought of never seeing Georgie again tried to make itself known, but he knocked it aside. She was nothing but a Nellie Bly devotee who played typical female games of catch-me-if-you-can.

  He checked every saloon in town, the feed store, the ten-cent show, and even the brothels. Now he methodically walked up and down the alleyways, the full moon riding low in the sky and turning everything into tintype gray.

  Flies buzzed around heaps of garbage, while rancid odors assaulted his senses. A dog whose skin hugged his ribs saw Luke and skittered off in the opposite direction. A couple of drunks propped themselves up against the brick siding toward the end of the passageway, one gesturing with his bottle in grandiose movements.

  Luke slowed his steps. It wasn’t just a couple of drunks, it was Duane and Necker.

  “Well, lookee here, Duane. Look who’s come ta call.”

  The two of them laughed at Necker’s attempt at humor.

  Resting his head against the building, Duane squinted. “You look mad enough ta eat the devil with his horns on. Somethin’ wrong?”

  “I’ve been looking for you,” Luke answered, his tone sharp.

  “Now, Duane,” Necker slurred, “don’t ya be believin’ that sorry excuse. You and I both know he usually shows up fair to glowing after his little nightcap with Miss Georgie.” Holding the neck of his bottle, he swi
ped his mouth with his sleeve. “What’s the matter, Palmer? She too tired to dance the coochee-coochee fer ya tonight? Have a headache instead?”

  Luke snatched the man clear off his feet. The bottle crashed to the ground and shattered. “Keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk about her, Necker.”

  “Hoo, would ya listen ta that? She sure got yer spurs tangled, don’t she?”

  Reining in his temper, he set Necker down, cursing himself for letting her interfere with his work yet again. “I guess she does. Sorry about your whiskey. Come on and I’ll buy you another one.”

  Necker clapped him on the shoulder. “Ya can’t be lettin’ her do that to ya, Palmer. Ya got to be like me. Show her what’s what. Then go on about yer business.”

  Duane harrumphed.

  Necker peered over his shoulder. “You got somethin’ ta say?”

  “Yeah. I’m bored. There’s never nothin’ ta do in this miserable town.”

  Holding out a hand, Necker helped Duane to his feet. The action threw him off-balance and nearly sent both back to the ground. Luke reached out a hand to steady them.

  “There’ll be excitement enough tomorry,” Necker said, recovering his footing.

  Luke sharpened his gaze. “What happens tomorrow?”

  Necker picked his teeth with his tongue. “Nothin’ that need concern you.”

  Slipping his hands in his pockets, Luke rocked on his feet. “I want in.”

  Faint strains of “Hello, Ma Baby” mixed with a dog barking in the distance. A man falling asleep in the saddle clomped by, his horse knowing the way home by heart.

  Duane stepped forward, glass crackling under his boots. “How ’bout it, Neck? The man done said it’s up ta you.”

  Hope kindled inside Luke. Comer must have given his blessing, but as any good leader, he’d delegated a feeling of power to his underling by letting him decide when. If something was happening tomorrow, though, then that when needed to be now.

  He held Necker’s gaze.

  The man wasn’t in any rush to give up his control. “I’m still a little sore about them mice.”

  Duane huffed. “Oh, come on. Ya done laughed yer head off when you’s tellin’ the boys about it last night.”

  “That don’t mean I enjoyed chasin’ after those critters while Lulie plumb wore my ear out. Shoot, they’s still popping outta everywhere and making her carry on like the end is comin’.”

  “Well, why didn’t ya say nothin’? I’ll lend ya my traps. They work real good.” He nudged Necker with his elbow. “What do ya say?”

  “I say he’s got to do something ta make up fer it. That’s what I say.”

  Duane’s face split into a grin. “All righty. Ask him anythin’. He’ll do it. Won’t ya, Luke?”

  “Pretty near.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he thought of Georgie and what he’d do if Necker’s plan involved her. Please, Lord. Don’t let it involve Georgie. Not again.

  Scratching his jaw, Necker strolled out onto the street, looked up and down its length, then raised his gaze to the roofs of the buildings. “I got somethin’, but not here. Too many folks is around. Follow me.”

  Duane gave Luke an excited glance. They followed Necker to Main Street. Though streetlamps lined the road, this section was well away from the saloons and bawdy houses. No lights came from inside the buildings. No people walked the boardwalks. No horses stood tied to the rail. Nothing but a swirl of dust as a breeze blew down the thoroughfare.

  Necker reached inside his jacket and withdrew a gun. Luke froze. Slipping his finger through the trigger guard, Necker spun the pistol around, then caught it, muzzle down, grip toward Luke.

  He accepted the weapon, then checked for ammunition. It was loaded.

  With his other hand, Necker withdrew a second pistol and repeated the process, except this time the grip faced Duane.

  Luke’s throat went dry. Was he going to make them duel? He couldn’t shoot Duane. Wouldn’t. He could wing him, though. But in return, Duane might outright kill him.

  Eyes lighting up, Duane took the proffered gun. “I get to do it, too?”

  “You too.”

  Duane let out a whoop, the sound bouncing off the storefronts.

  “Here’s what ya do,” Necker began. “Ya see all them telly-phone wires up there?”

  Luke glanced at the grid of wires going in every direction. Down the street, up the street, across the street, and back again. Main connected everyone to everything and had four times as many lines running over it as any other street in the county.

  “Well, we’re gonna have us a little contest.” Necker pointed to the east. “You get that side, Palmer. Duane gets the other. On the count of three, I wanna see who can sever the most lines in one minute’s time.”

  Duane’s shoulders slumped. “Is that all? Shoot, I could do that with my eyes closed.”

  The boy’s boast wasn’t far from the truth. Luke had hunted with him enough to know he was fast and very accurate. It was, most likely, the quality which afforded him a place in Comer’s gang.

  Necker gave Luke a steady gaze. “Whoever gets the most, wins.”

  Duane might not have understood the implication, but Luke did. If he didn’t beat Duane, he wouldn’t be invited in. And clearly, Necker thought he’d fail.

  “You know,” Luke said, giving Necker a sardonic look, “I’m going to have to repair every single one of these.”

  Necker smiled. “I know.”

  The mice. It was payback for the mice.

  Necker drew a starting line in the dirt with his heel, then gave each of them enough cartridges to down every line up there. It was an awful lot of ammunition to be toting around unless he was anticipating trouble.

  A sense of unease crept up his spine. He’d stood once before at the end of Main with a boy close to Duane’s age. He and his brother might have been shooting out windows and it might have been a different town, but the scenario was exactly the same.

  Luke turned to Duane. “You don’t have to do this. You can give me your gun and I’ll do it.”

  The boy gave him a knowing smile. “ ’Fraid I might show ya up, Palmer?”

  “No, I’m afraid the sheriff might come along and haul you to jail.”

  Duane laughed. “Nussbaum? Shoot, he’d probably make us do it over again so he could watch. Ain’t that right, Necker?”

  The man didn’t say anything. Just stepped to the side. “Shooters ready?”

  Duane placed one foot on the line, then crouched down like a runner. “Ready!”

  Necker waited. “Palmer?”

  Protect him, Lord. Shaking his arm loose, he toed the line. “Ready.”

  “On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!”

  Gunfire exploded. Wire popped and snapped, then drooped to the ground like a metal weeping willow.

  Luke kept pace with Duane, glancing over his shoulder with every reload to assure himself he wasn’t too far ahead. If the sheriff came, he wasn’t about to let the boy take all the blame.

  But the sheriff didn’t come. No one did. And when they reached the ending stretch, Luke surged ahead in order to beat Duane and secure his position in Comer’s gang.

  “Come on, boys!” Necker shouted, racing up behind them. “I hear the cavalry!”

  Distant shouts and footfalls set them to running down back streets, through alleyways, and across backyards, not stopping until they reached the lumberyard on the edge of town.

  Hands on his knees, Duane hunched over, breathing hard. “Who won?” he gasped.

  Luke fell against a tree, pretending he was winded, then closed his eyes, listening. No one was coming. Whoever had been pursuing them hadn’t put up much of a chase.

  “Palmer won,” Necker said in between breaths. “For a minute there, I thought he was gonna let you win.”

  “Let me win?” Duane was still bent over, but glanced up at this remark.

  Luke kept his expression neutral.

  Necker studi
ed him with speculation. “You been holdin’ out on us, Palmer?”

  He shook his head. “I want in. That’s all.”

  A long moment passed, their wheezes slowing bit by bit.

  “I ain’t never seen ya shoot like that,” Necker said, not willing to let it go.

  “It’s something about getting caught, I guess.” He shrugged, scrambling for a reasonable excuse. “I’m really good when I think someone’s coming.”

  Necker chuckled. “Well, there’s always someone a’comin’. So if you can keep yer focus, then yer in.”

  The first genuine smile of the night formed on Luke’s face. “Really?”

  “Yep. I think you’ll do right nicely.”

  Duane punched the air. “Woo-hoo! Can I tell him?”

  “Go ahead.”

  The boy looked both ways, then lowered his voice. “We’re robbin’ the 4:53 to Houston tomorry.”

  Luke’s pulse picked up. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yep. It’s all decided.”

  “Whose place are we meeting at?” he asked.

  “Nobody’s,” Necker answered. “Too dangerous. So each of us will leave at different times and ride to the designated spot.”

  “Sounds good. Tell me when to leave and where to go, and I’ll be there.”

  Necker shook his head. “You can ride with me. Nobody will think nothing if it’s just the two of us. Meet me at my place come noon tomorrow.”

  Frustration gnawed at Luke. If he could find out where they were to rendezvous, he could get word to the captain and have the whole company waiting.

  “He can ride with me and Blesinger.” Duane turned to Luke. “We’re leavin’ first thing in the morning.”

  “No, he rides with me.” Necker gave Luke an admiring look. “That was some fine shootin’. I’ll see ya tomorry. You boys better turn in now. We got a big day ahead of us.”

  Necker jogged north, eventually disappearing from sight.

  Duane punched the air again. “I can’t believe it. Ya know how hard it is to get in?”

  Luke smiled. “I’m not going to be able to sleep at all.”