“I declare, Mr. Smith, fancy seeing you here.” Her dimples flashed as she fanned herself. “It’s so hot outside I feel just like a June bug dancing on a tin roof.”
“Mrs. LeDoux.” He nodded his head.
He couldn’t unglue his eyes from the hat covered in big white flowers. Thin netting fell from the brim to the tip of her pert nose.
Yep, she put him in mind of a bride all right.
And if he could believe expert opinion, she was looking for husband number six.
His last swallow of beer floundered in his gut. He’d have to tell her real quick to cast her net somewhere else because this fish wasn’t biting.
Slats huffed over. “Ma’am, you got no business in here. This is a drinking man’s establishment. We got rules.”
“Oh, pooh! Every rule is made to be broken,” she answered.
“Mine ain’t. Men ain’t gonna go for you coming in here, ruining the one place where they can hide from their wives.”
“Your partner, Fats, doesn’t run off paying customers.” Quite unconcerned, she leaned the parasol against her chair and tugged the lacy white gloves from each digit. “Quit griping and be a dear man. Bring me the coldest sarsaparilla you have.”
Slats glared. “Just one. And then you gotta leave.”
McKenna lifted his mug. “What brings you to town?”
“Today’s the opening ceremonies to kick off the rodeo. As presiding officer of the rodeo committee I have duties.”
He relaxed. Maybe he’d jumped to the wrong conclusions and she wasn’t interested in him after all. “Slats, bring me another beer while you’re at it.”
The slender bartender set down both mugs and collected twenty cents from McKenna.
“You’re a gentleman, but I pay my own way.” Tempest handed Slats a silver dollar and grinned at McKenna. “You said I cleaned you out. Shame on you for holding out on me.”
“Only a fool takes everything he has to a poker game.”
“You’re a smart man. Did you have a good time?”
“You did yourself proud, ma’am. You’re a worthy opponent.”
“It’s Tempest, remember.”
He remembered all right. Had hell getting her name and the taste of her out of his brain long enough to catch some sleep.
Sheriff Barnett strode in and marched straight for their table. “Have a word with you, Smith?”
McKenna followed the sheriff outside. “What is it?”
The sheriff pushed back his hat and stared down the street. “You seem a nice sort and don’t know the workings of some of the people in this town so I thought I should warn you.”
“Right kindly, Sheriff. What people in particular are you warning me about?”
“Mrs. LeDoux. She’s got her mind set on adding you.”
“To what?” McKenna wished the man would speak clearly.
“Dammit, Smith, she’s got you marked for husband six.”
“I’ve given her no reason to think I’m interested in applying. Appreciate the concern, but I can pretty much take care of myself. Been doing it for a while now.”
“You don’t know her.” The sheriff left shaking his head.
McKenna went back inside in time to see Tempest stuffing a small bottle into her purse. Probably smelling salts. Most women carried them for the vapors.
Although Tempest didn’t seem the sort to swoon.
In her no-nonsense way, she’d slap a fainting spell silly if it tried to jump on her.
The sheriff was out of line in McKenna’s book. Tempest LeDoux was a lonely, harmless widow just looking for a little companionship. But it might not hurt to tell her again in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t interested.
Chapter 9
From where McKenna sat, he could see the whites of several pairs of frightened eyes peering through a crack in the door that led to the alley behind the saloon. A brave lot.
He tipped up the mug and took a long swallow, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat.
“Mr. Smith, will you dance with me tonight?” Tempest’s silken request slid over him like warm sap oozing down a tree.
McKenna frowned. “I don’t dance.”
“But the affair is in your honor. You have to be there. Even if they don’t know how, most men at least try.”
“I don’t know how much plainer I can get that I’m not most men. I don’t dance.” Funny how thoughts were swirling inside his head looking for a place to light. He seemed sorta dizzy again. “And I want to make something crystal clear…I’m not looking for a wife. Don’t chase what you can’t catch.”
Tempest’s eyes widened innocently over the rim of the mug of sarsaparilla. “I never said you were looking for a wife.”
“Folks around here appear to have the impression that you’ve set your sights on me.” He leaned forward. “Get that notion out of your head right now. I admire you. I think you’re a heck of a woman. And I find your company pleasurable.”
“No one’s told me that in quite a while. Thank you.”
“That’s as far as I’m willing to go.”
The dimples flashed when she grinned. “Shoot, McKenna, I’m not asking you for a date with the preacher, I’m only asking for one little teensy weensy dance. That’s all.”
“You can lead a horse to a river, but you can’t make him swim it. I’ll be there, but you can forget me dancing.”
He hadn’t kicked up his heels since the time he got drunk in Cimarron and danced like a fool on the bar. He swore then to lay off all dancing.
Several hours later, he leaned back in a chair on the sidewalk in front of the hotel with his hat pulled low over his eyes. The cow town had gotten livelier once the speechifying by politicians blowing hot air was done. Around noon, a noisy parade with no shortage of pretty fillies marched up the street.
Tempest outshone them all by far in yet another fanciful costume. She dazzled in a white gypsy bodice that fell off her shoulders. A shimmering skirt hugged her shapely hips, secured at the waist by a wide belt with gold bangles.
He pushed his hat back with a forefinger.
She looked the part of a gypsy fortune-teller who could rook you out of the fillings in your teeth before you could get your butt parked good in the chair.
Damn if it wasn’t a carnival after all.
Try to deny it or not, the lower regions of his anatomy responded to the woman who could steam hot water on a cold stove. Half the time he wanted to strangle her with both hands and the other half he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her to a private island and explore her curves.
It was all he could do to keep from yanking her out of that wagon, petticoats and all, and hauling her right up to his room.
Tempest caught sight of him, smiled big and blew an airy kiss. It was then he knew he was in danger, the mortal kind, the kind a man couldn’t easily get out of.
McKenna propped his feet on the railing in front of him. He should saddle up Hard Tack and light out for Horse Creek with his parcel. The town’s generosity be damned. He’d caught Cherokee Bill and gotten their money back because it was the right thing to do, not because they owed him for it.
At the sound of a pistol, he was on his feet with his Colt in his hand before he realized it was the signal for the horse race to start.
Paints, buckskins, roans and all thundered down the street and into the countryside. He’d just eased back into the chair when he noticed a commotion near the livery. It wasn’t any surprise to see Tempest fly at a big stout fellow with her fists raised. A young man lay on the ground at their feet.
McKenna’s spurs clinked as he strode into the fray.
“Get her off me,” yelled the man.
McKenna grabbed Tempest around the waist. “Stop!” One of her feet landed a kick to McKenna’s shin as he pulled her loose.
Tempest’s chest heaved. She had fire in her eye and fury in her voice. “Turn me loose. This brute deserves to be horsewhipped and I intend to do it.”
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p; “She’s crazy,” the man hollered.
“Just settle down, Tempest.” McKenna had his hands full with the hellion. “If I let you go, will you behave yourself?”
Casting her adversary a bitter stare, she nodded curtly.
McKenna gave the young boy a hand and pulled him to his feet. Blood trickled down one side of his dirty face.
“She was only trying to protect me,” murmured the boy.
“I would’ve thrashed this clod within an inch of his miserable life if you hadn’t stopped me.” Tempest lifted the hem of her skirt, tore a strip off her petticoat, and carefully cleaned the boy’s face. “The louse has nothing better to do than beat an unfortunate boy who has no one to take up for him.”
The big-boned fellow spat a curse. “The dummard should’ve done what I told him. Next thing I know this crazy hellcat jumped right in the middle of me and my business.”
Cold rage filled McKenna. In that moment, he stood in the boy’s shoes. “Is this young man under your employ, Tempest?”
Her eyes glittered with rage. “As of this moment, Pony Boy works for me. I’ll not see my ranch hands abused by anyone.”
Deadly calm reverberated inside McKenna when he turned to the ill-mannered devil. “I see you lay a hand on this boy or Mrs. LeDoux again you’re a dead man, mister.”
His warning delivered a strong, dangerous message that he was more than willing to back up with force.
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbled a little, an indication McKenna had put the fear of God in him.
Tempest flashed McKenna a crooked smile. “Thank you. I’m going to find my foreman, Teg Tegeler, and have him take Pony Boy to Jacks Bluff. He needs a home and I have a big place that needs more young people.”
Pony Boy wiped the blood from his eye. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Seems a good solution,” McKenna agreed.
Tempest glanced at the clock hanging from the corner of the bank. “Good heavens, Alaine’s shooting competition begins in fifteen minutes! I need to get moving. I’ll see you later. Don’t be late for the dance tonight.”
He parted with a flicker of a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Taking his time, McKenna sauntered down the crowded street where the shooting competition was about to commence.
He hadn’t meant to go, but curiosity won out.
McKenna wanted to judge Alaine LeDoux’s skill for himself.
And nothing wrong with wanting to see the girl’s mother. Her eager smile and sultry voice was addictive.
She drew him like a hard beetle to a lantern on a hot night and he didn’t even care if his butt was getting singed.
His body instantly responded to images that flitted through his head, the ones that kept him awake and drove heat into his belly.
He wanted her.
Oh God, he wanted her.
Tempest stood near with her feet braced and hands clenched over her heart when Alaine strode confidently to the shooting mark. McKenna knew Tempest was praying and knew what she prayed for. First and foremost she wanted her daughter safe. But he’d recognized the torn look in her eyes. She wanted her daughter to win, to show these people that LeDouxes were as good as anyone.
The girl raised the 16-gauge Parker and drew a bead on the target.
Alaine appeared to know what she was doing.
As blue smoke burst from the business end of the rifle, it was Tempest, instead of her daughter, who recoiled as if it were she holding the weapon.
Alaine’s bullet went wide. The miss took all the stuffing out of the bewitching, prideful woman.
With death stealing five hapless husbands, not to mention a mother and father, it stood to reason that Tempest would be on edge with her daughter, afraid that any second she’d lose her too. The idea of Alaine toting guns must terrify her.
And yet, the mother let her daughter chase her dream. In spite of all Tempest’s objections, even though she denied her own dream, she truly championed Alaine.
The widow had a good head on her shoulders…and a soft spot for wayward daughters and homeless boys.
McKenna eyed Alaine stalking toward the nearest alley with her chin held high. He tasted her disappointment. But the youngest LeDoux wouldn’t give up, that much he knew. She was like her mother; clamp her teeth in something and it’d take forty mules and a jenny to pull her off. That girl would practice until her trigger finger wore down to a nubbin and even then use the stub.
Mother and daughter had a lot more in common than they realized. The girl would come back better than ever tomorrow.
He whistled as he strode toward the bathhouse. He’d arrived at two decisions.
He’d ride on out come morning, complete his task and cut a trail back through Kasota Springs on his way home to Austin.
And he’d go to the dance and give the pretty widow a little sugar to offset all those sour pickles she’d had to eat.
Chapter 10
Purple twilight had drifted over Kasota Springs by the time Tempest galloped into town after a hurried ride to the ranch to change clothes. It’d taken more time than she wanted in choosing the right outfit, but she wanted it to be perfect.
She drew up hard on the reins and dismounted in front of the town square. Fiddle music already played, drowning out the shuffle of the dancers’ feet.
Tempest swept the crowd. No sign of the handsome cowboy whose mere glance made her heart quiver.
McKenna Smith wasn’t going to come despite his promise.
An ache rose more powerful than when she’d buried her husbands.
It still worried her that she would somehow cause his death, that the bad luck curse put on her long ago under a Cajun moon would continue to steal those she loved. The potion she made had thus far worked. But the secret herbs and roots had limited power. If only she could cure McKenna of the need to live by the gun. That would be a crucial step.
Don’t chase what you can’t catch. McKenna’s warning.
How true were his words that no woman would ever rope him.
She couldn’t imagine not trying though.
Not to change the curse. No, the sad fact remained that she’d fallen hopelessly in love with this gunfighter in black.
McKenna Smith had fire and passion and strength.
She weaved her way around the edge of the dancers and took an inconspicuous place with the other partner-less women. She smoothed her soft calico skirt and returned their smiles.
No one would ask her to dance. No one ever did.
Men cut a wide path around her out of fear that they too would meet with the fate each of her husbands had and to touch her would invite a handshake with the undertaker.
She looked for Alaine, but didn’t see her. She’d have given anything for a chance to console her daughter after missing the target at the shooting competition, but Alaine had stalked off alone to lick her wounds.
A seamstress could’ve cut Alaine and her from the same bolt of cloth in that the girl wanted to nurse her wounds in private.
Seemed they both might have raw hurt to soothe tonight.
Against Tempest’s will, her booted foot tapped in time with the music and she began to sway. With eyes closed, she pretended strong arms wrapped around her. She was gliding across the wooden planks with the one she loved.
Just one song and she’d ride back to her lonely life at the ranch and seek solace in the lavish furnishings she’d collected.
“The prettiest woman here and you don’t have men lining up to dance?” The deep husky voice from behind sent hot waves sweeping into her belly. “Thought I’d have to beat ’em off with a stick just to get to the front of the line.”
Tempest’s eyes flew open. She whirled and plunged into McKenna’s glistening golden stare.
“I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Always keep my word, you can count on that. Had to say good-bye and thank you for making a saddle tramp welcome.”
Her breath caught on the ball of spiky thistles in her throat. �
�You’re leaving?”
“I have a matter of utmost importance to take care of.”
Whatever was in the saddlebags she suspected.
“But you agreed to stay awhile.”
Lanterns hanging around the town square twinkled with the brightness of a thousand dreams but each held illusion.
“Plans change.” The shadow deepened beneath the rim of McKenna’s hat and along his jaw. “Dance with me, Tempest LeDoux.”
The tall paladin with long legs that took him anyplace he wanted to go gave her a real, very blinding smile.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
The circle of his arms enfolded her, transporting her straight to heaven. Millions of tiny trembles burst inside her. She pressed her face against his broad chest, inhaling the scent of shaving soap, sage and free spirit.
He was a maverick who roamed the wild country.
Tipping her head back in order to look up at him she murmured, “You said you didn’t dance. Yet here we are.”
“Yep, here we are. Didn’t think it proper to head out at first light without saying good-bye.”
Unshed tears blurred Tempest’s view of McKenna’s high cheekbones and strong jaw. She’d lost him before they even had a chance.
She lowered her eyes and felt his chin rest on the top of her head. He was a man of steel and principle. Together with him she could’ve banished the ghosts from her past. His heartbeat was soft and sure. She clutched a handful of shirtsleeve and wished for strength to let him go.
McKenna’s grip around her waist tightened as though he read her mind. “That was a fine thing you did today, fighting for that boy and taking him under your wing.”
“Pony Boy reminds me of myself. Did you know he’s been sleeping under the porch at the church? Doesn’t have a soul.”
“This land is hard and takes what it wants.” McKenna’s voice carried a brittle edge.
“Sometimes far too much for a grown person, let alone a frightened young man.” Tempest knew just how fast the land gobbled up men and dreams.
“Something tells me you’ve not always lived a life of luxury. You’ve done without many times I gather.”
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