“And if we don’t?” The man looked at his friends. “Like I said, there’s five of us. You can’t take us all.”
“Maybe not. But I can take you.” Miguel shrugged. “Do you feel like dying?”
“Oh, hell, Bart,” one of the seated men said. “Let’s go. We came here looking to make money, not die.”
The others nodded and stood. “Yeah,” another one said. “This town may still need us if those Comanche camping west of here don’t like the outcome of a fair trial the Ranger is so sure about.”
Slowly, they sidled past Miguel, the rebellious one last. “You haven’t seen the last of me, Ranger, and don’t you forget it.”
• ♥ •
Miguel let himself quietly into the room that Lily had given Elizabeth. It was late, well past midnight, but he wanted to make sure the town had quieted down for the night and wouldn’t erupt again. In the morning, Tate-Johnson should be here with the rest of the guard.
Elizabeth slept on her side, her back to the door, fully clothed. Miguel glanced at the cotton nightgown Lily had left, neatly folded on the dresser. Obviously, Elizabeth wasn’t taking any chances. But how in the world could she sleep with that dang corset on? Women could hardly breathe in them.
He hung his gun belt over one of the bed posts and sat down on the edge to remove his boots. He stripped his vest and shirt off and then hesitated at the buttons of his pants. Elizabeth would throw a fit if she woke up to find him naked in bed with her.
Wouldn’t she? Or, maybe in the semiconscious state of near-waking, if she felt his cock up hard against her, she’d reach for him automatically and remember who she was…or what she was…although he was beginning to have doubts. The inquiries he’d sent out had brought no results. No one seemed to know her. Clearly, she wasn’t an ordinary working girl like he had once assumed. She was too educated, for one thing. But the lingerie...he hadn't seen anything like that even in the fanciest house in New Orleans. Maybe she had been a European courtesan, sent for by some wealthy man in San Antonio. The stage stopped here first. She could have gotten off to tend to needs, been abducted, and hit on the head.
He thought about how different she was from other women he’d had. There was nothing contrived about her; she didn’t flirt or play games. In fact, she seemed genuinely interested in conversations he and Olaf had about breeding stock and breaking horses. She rode as well as any of his wranglers and he’d never met a woman who could shoot straight. Elena had cringed at the sight of a gun. And then, there was his son. Raul had never warmed up to anyone else except Olga. A brief thought flitted through his mind that Raul may not even have cottoned to his own mother, as self-centered and egotistical as Elena had been. Cold where Elizabeth was warm—warm, and soft, and feminine.
Yes, waking up to her would be nice. She’d turn over in his arms and snuggle against him. He’d give her soft, slow kisses, then nibble his way down her neck, his hand flicking a nipple lightly—very lightly—like a butterfly’s wings while he teased her awake with his tongue. He groaned, thinking of taking her breast in his mouth, suckling her until she whimpered and became wet for him.
Miguel bent over her. She looked like a child, sleeping peacefully with one hand tucked under her cheek, the other holding the edge of the blanket. She looked almost virginal. He shook his head and slipped under the covers with his pants on.
He placed a hand on her waist and felt the hard whalebone of the corset. She couldn’t be comfortable. The least he could do was loosen the stays. Gently, so he wouldn’t wake her, he worked the buttons open on the back of the dress. Damn, why did women’s dresses have to have so many buttons? There must be more than fifty. Once she murmured and stirred and he stopped, but she just sank further into her pillow.
There. He’d gotten the dress open. He untied the bottom of the corset and then began loosening it, pulling the laces through the eyes until the corset was undone. He pushed it aside and stared at her bare back. Heat began to stir in his loins. Had he ever wanted a woman as much as he did her? He didn’t want to wait until morning to find out. He leaned over and kissed the back of her neck. Just one kiss. That’s all he’d do. He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair, like meadow flowers on a spring day. Just one more kiss. His lips brushed her spine and then again, his mouth firmer each time as he worked his way slowly down her back. He really should stop…
• ♥ •
Elizabeth was dreaming. The bed felt deliciously soft and warm. Hands she couldn’t see stroked her, the touch incredibly light as those fingers caressed her shoulder, then feathered down her arm and up along her ribcage. A slight breeze rippled along her back and then the most exquisite sensation of cool air and warm tongue, easing along her spine, slipping downward, past her waist—
Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t move. This wasn’t a dream. She’d recognize Miguel’s touch anytime. Fire kindled along the track his mouth had taken. Sweet Mary, he was trying to seduce her while she slept! She flipped over on her back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He leaned up on one elbow and grinned. “If you don’t know, my technique definitely needs improving.”
She tucked the blanket under her chin, flustered. “Trying to take advantage of me in my sleep…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at his bare chest with the hard pecs and large biceps in his arms and gulped. “You’re not…naked, are you?”
The grin broadened. “Why don’t you lift the blanket and see?”
Elizabeth groaned, knowing she’d set herself up for that one. The worst thing was a part of her wanted him to be. But not here in a brothel! He already thought she was a whore. Gingerly, she nudged his leg with her foot. Ah. Denims. Good.
He caught her leg and pulled it between his thighs, inching closer until she could feel the hardness of his shaft against her hip.
Miguel slid his arm around her, turning her to him, and grasped her buttock, pressing her more tightly against what was definitely growing and becoming larger.
“Why do you keep fighting me, Red? I promise I’ll give you all the pleasure you could want. However you want it.”
She nearly melted when he nuzzled her neck and nibbled lightly on her ear—but she couldn’t let him do this. Not here. She put her hands on his chest and pushed to no avail. He was rock hard everywhere. “Let go. Get out of my bed.”
He raised his head and looked at her. For a moment she thought he would force her, but then he released her leg and rolled over.
“I asked you to get out of my bed.”
“Can’t do it, Red. There’s no place to go.”
She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Then I’ll go sleep in that chair. I can’t trust you.”
His hand caught her arm like a vice and she found herself sprawled on her back. Miguel leaned over her, his eyes serious
“If there is one thing you can do, it’s trust me, Red. All I really intended to do was loosen that damn corset. I got carried away. It won’t happen again.” He released her and swung out of bed. “I’ll take the chair. Can I have one of the blankets?”
Elizabeth nodded, not trusting her voice. She hadn’t meant to make him angry, but what could she say? He blew out the oil lamp, and she could hear him settling in the chair.
She sank down into the darkness. The bed suddenly seemed so cold.
• ♥ •
The chair was empty the next morning when she woke. Quickly, Elizabeth dressed, struggling with the buttons, and flung the corset on the bed. Without it, the shirtwaist was snug, but she didn’t have anyone to lace the thing and she wasn’t about to ask for help from Lily’s girls.
She found Miguel in the kitchen, seated across the table from Lily, drinking coffee that smelled of chicory. He looked up at her warily, a tired expression on his face. She felt a twinge of guilt for making him sleep in the chair.
Lily arched an eyebrow and stood. “I think I’ll leave you two alone.”
Miguel stood, too. “I’m leaving. I’ve got to go ta
lk to Major Arnold.”
“I’m coming with you,” Elizabeth said.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Do you want to eat first?”
She shook her head. She was hungry, but she feared he’d leave without her and leave her stranded here.
They rode the short distance from the Trinity River to the bluff where the fort stood in silence. The guard at the gate lifted the bar and let them through. He grinned when he saw Elizabeth, but quickly stopped at the glare Miguel gave him.
Once inside the walls, Elizabeth looked around with interest. She had read about the historic Fort Worth. To her right stood the hospital and dispensary, roofed with real shingles. A small office-type building stood next to them. To her left were the stables, forage and tack rooms, and smithy. The parade grounds cleared the middle of the complex and behind them, a large tent that served as a mess hall stood next to the stone kitchens. Elizabeth could smell bacon frying as they passed by and her stomach rumbled. If Miguel heard, he gave no sign. The commanding officer’s house stood close to the back wall. To one side were three sets of officers’ quarters made of clapboard covered logs, roofs tar-pitched for insulation, and fireplaces made of stone. On the other side were the enlisted men’s barracks, long rows of log cabins daubed with mud. Only slim tin chimneys poked through the rooftops.
They walked up the steps to the porch, but before they could knock, the door opened. A young soldier ushered them into the parlor.
“Major Arnold will be with you shortly. Please, have a seat.”
Elizabeth sat down on a brocade chair while Miguel stood by the mantel of the fireplace. Her fingers traced the smooth rosewood of the arm of the heavy Victorian piece. She looked around. Currier and Ives prints hung above the horsehair sofa along one wall, heavy velvet curtains framed the large front window. The wood floor had a soft Oriental rug covering most of it. Obviously, commanding officers didn’t lack for comfort, even at a far outpost like Fort Worth.
“Miguel! What brings you here at this hour?” Major Ripley Arnold walked through the doorway, wiping his hands on a linen napkin. He had on a regulation shirt, breeches, and boots, but had not donned his jacket. He looked surprised when he saw Elizabeth. “Is this social? I’ll call my wife.”
“No,” Miguel answered and quickly relayed the events of the past night. “Middleton should be arriving with the other Rangers in an hour or so.”
Major Arnold nodded. “We can install a military curfew, too. I’ll have the captain assign double shifts on watch as well.” He ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “Having those Indians here hasn’t done a lot for morale with my troops, either. I fear some of them share the townspeople’s ideas.”
Miguel raised an eyebrow. “Won’t they be facing court-marshal if they disobey orders?”
“It’s the only thing that’s holding some of them back,” the major replied, “but we don’t need bickering within the ranks, not with Chief Jim Ned’s warriors sitting out there, waiting for the outcome.”
Miguel frowned. “So what the hired guns said was right. Do you think the Comanche will go on the warpath?”
The major shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve sent an envoy to tell the chief he can send representatives to be present during the trial. They’ll have safe conduct.”
“Any news as to where the judge is on the circuit?”
“Nope. Last I heard, his health had turned puny. I hope he doesn’t come down with the lung fever.”
“Pneumonia?” Elizabeth interrupted. “There is medicine—“
“The sooner the judge can get here, the better.” Miguel cut her off. “We’d better be getting back so I can meet up with Middleton.”
The major cleared his throat. “There’s something else you should know.”
Miguel stopped half-way to the door. “What?”
“Well, some of the soldiers have been talking to the townsfolk. They’ve gotten kind of fired-up that those two hostages you have aren’t under guard.”
“The Rangers treated with Chief Jim Ned about that,” Miguel said evenly. “They’ve not caused trouble in town the four years they’ve been with me.”
“Yes, well. Having gunslingers in town to stir things up doesn’t help. They got wind that you don’t fence your land; you let the Comanche use it for grazing.” The major looked uncomfortable. “They’re saying you’re an Indian lover.”
Elizabeth sputtered, her Celtic temper rising. “How dare they! Miguel has done nothing to endanger any of the townspeople. No, he doesn’t keep Cactus Flower or Swift Hawk under lock and key; he respects them. They’re people. How are we ever going to have peace with the Indians if they’re treated like second-class citizens?” She stood and began to pace. “And whose business is it what Miguel does with his land? He owns it. If getting along with the Comanche and sharing land that once was theirs is considered wrong—“
“That’s enough, Elizabeth.” Miguel took her arm and gently tugged her toward him.
“Fiery, isn’t she?” the major said wryly.
“That she is,” Miguel said. “Never a dull moment.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, expecting him to be angry at her outburst. Instead, he had the strangest look on his face, as though he were seeing her for the first time.
The major escorted them to the door and soon they were once again headed toward town. Elizabeth looked with interest south of the road. The notorious Hell’s Half Acre would be located there in another twenty years or so. She wanted to tell Miguel about it, but one look at his face made her decide not to.
“Do you really think the Indians will attack?” Elizabeth asked. “What will the townspeople do?”
“The townspeople can seek shelter within the fort,” Miguel answered. It’s well- built enough to stand a hundred years.”
“You won’t believe me,” Elizabeth said, unable to stop herself this time, “but where the fort sits now…in my century there will be a county courthouse.”
Miguel looked heavenward, but his voice sounded patient. “We aren’t even a county. Do you want me to stop off and have the Army doctor check you out?”
She clamped her mouth shut and remained silent until he dropped her off at Miss Lily’s. She turned around as she walked up to the porch. “You will be,” she said.
“Will be what?” Miguel asked, holding the horses in check.
“A county. Tarrant County, after the general who fought at Village Creek.” She turned and walked inside before he could answer.
• ♥ •
Miguel returned to Miss Lily’s later that afternoon for a bath and a shave. Elizabeth was only aware of it as she came downstairs and saw him getting ready to leave again. Sharee stood behind him at the door, holding a wet washcloth and bar of soap. She gave Elizabeth a self-satisfied smile.
Elizabeth didn’t return it. Had he let that woman give him a bath? No doubt, considering where they were. She didn’t even want to think about that wanton soaping him down, dribbling water over his magnificent nude body, touching him— Miguel could have had the decency to at least take his own bath!
“Are you leaving?” she asked. “Can I come along?”
“No. I’m on watch. Tate-Johnson’s men are posted all over town. I’ll be stationed by the stables for the evening. I’ll see you in the morning, and take you home.”
In the morning? Did that mean he was going to spend the night in Sharee’s bed?
“I’m going crazy here. I’ve been cooped up in that room all afternoon since I don’t want to be taken for one of the…working girls.”
Miguel turned to Sharee. “Would you excuse us?”
She pouted, and then purred, “Come see me later.”
He waited until she had gone. “These girls have to work for a living. You could at least try to show some respect.”
“Respect? For prostitution?”
She didn’t catch the warning that flashed in his eyes. “I’ve shown you respect, haven’t I?”
Elizabeth felt her face
flush at the tired implication, but her temper still rose. “I’m not a whore! And you’ll never catch me giving you a bath!”
He stopped his retort and studied her. Then he grinned. “I think you’re jealous.”
“I most certainly am not!”
He moved closer and she caught the clean scent of him. Her heart beat faster as he tilted her chin up with one finger and looked deeply into her eyes. She refused to look away and hoped he didn’t feel her trembling. Must his touch always send quivers racing through her?
“Hmmm. I think I’m going to look forward to that bath.” He turned away and stepped through the door. He was at the iron gate before he turned back. “Oh, just one other thing, Red.”
“What?”
“I always return the favor. Just think about my bathing you. We could—“
She slammed the door shut, trying to block out the sound of his chuckling as he walked away.
• ♥ •
The weather turned bitterly cold with the arrival of a sudden front shortly after Miguel left. Lily had fires lit in all the hearths and her cook mulled wine for the customers.
To avoid boredom, Elizabeth found her way to the kitchen and offered to help the cook, Carmen, with the big cauldron of carne guisada she was making for supper. The older woman eyed her suspiciously at first, but Elizabeth explained she really was only a temporary guest and needed something to do out of sight of the parlor and visiting rooms.
Most of the girls ate an early meal as regular visiting hours began at 8:00 p.m. Sharee had a smug smile on her face when she came through the kitchen. Elizabeth clenched her teeth, not wanting to think about when Miguel would be visiting her.
To be fair, she had all but kicked Miguel out of her bed last night, clearly letting him know she did not welcome his attention. Well, that wasn’t quite true, she thought, as she remembered his soft tongue winding its velvet way down her back. She did want him, but she wanted him to care and believe she wasn’t a prostitute. She rubbed her temples, hoping a headache was not coming on.
Elizabeth helped the cook clean up the dishes and watched as the woman poured some of the still steaming stew in a pottery crock and seal it.
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