by Alison Bruce
"Sure you could. I was just insurance. And Duke doesn't like his place shot up." He gave her a smile that barely lifted his mouth, but reached right up to his eyes. "You done good today, Landers." He turned to Jase and gave him a nod. "He did you credit."
Jase nodded. He hadn't moved since they came in.
Birke left.
As soon as he was gone, Marly collapsed into the nearest chair. She dared a glance at Jase. He had a white-knuckle grip on the edge of the desk.
Jase followed her gaze and relaxed his grip. "Coffee?"
Without waiting for an answer, he poured the coffee, giving them each an extra helping of sugar. Then he set the cups down before sitting.
"Report."
She did, trying to be matter-of-fact and giving credit where credit was due. When she was done, he stared at her.
After a long pause, she filled the gap. "Do you think I could ask Troy to watch the office so we can have our baths?"
As soon as Marly left, Jase sank his head into his hands and gave a long shuddering sigh. Once he had collected himself, he went back to see the prisoners.
They were talking quietly and didn't notice him at first. He managed to pick up a few words about the boss not being happy and nothing turning out the way it was supposed to.
"You gents seem to have a particular distaste for lawmen," he said loud enough to make the two men jump. "First you draw on me, then you gang up on my deputy. It makes me wonder how you felt about Strothers."
Tyson spat at the bars.
"Thought as much," Jase said dryly. "You boys look like the best candidates for Strothers' murderer. You knew you didn't stand a chance in a fair fight, so you set on him at night and killed him with a knife. Maybe Egan paid you to do it. Or Baker. Maybe you just hate the law that much. Doesn't matter. You're the ones that'll hang."
"Now hold on," Parker warned.
"Never mind him," Tyson snapped, stepping in front of Parker. "We didn't do it and he can't prove we did."
Jase pushed away from the wall, reached into the cell and grabbed Tyson by his shirt front. With a jerk, Tyson slammed against the bars.
Jase smiled grimly, inches away from his face. "Fact one, everybody knows you tried to kill me and my deputy. I'll bet you tried a similar tactic with Strothers. A few questions to Duke should answer that."
Parker blanched. Jase had made a hit.
"Fact two," he said, "you two are part of a small group of people who can't account for themselves the night of the murder. Fact three, maybe you didn't know this, but as a Texas Ranger, I got judicial powers. I may be the only judge and jury you ever see."
He wiped the spit off the bar with Tyson's shirt front, then let him go. The man fell back, losing his balance and hitting the floor.
"Now," Jase said, his tone deceptively pleasant, "if you boys didn't kill Strothers, I suggest you come up with the person who did."
He slammed the door to the jail cell and let the bar fall noisily. It had done him good to vent his anger, but inside he was still shaken.
He was glad when Marly returned with Troy Riley.
Time to retreat to The Oasis.
Chapter 13
"You can have the tub first," Jase told her. "I'll be in Jezebel's room getting a shave and haircut."
A hot surge of jealousy raced through Marly. She tried to convince him to have his shave and haircut in their room at the same time, but he said it wouldn't be proper.
Like anything else they'd done was proper.
She fumed.
Things hadn't gone exactly as she planned. Jase was supposed to come back and catch her in the tub. He would only have seen her head and shoulders, but maybe he would have stolen a peek as she dried off.
She soaked in the tub, waiting for him for a very long time. Too long. Jase's shave and haircut took forever and she wondered what else he was doing in Jezebel's room.
Was Jezebel with him?
Henry came to warm the water. It turned cold again, so she climbed out and dressed in her combinations.
When Jase finally returned, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed, furiously trying to comb out her hair. She tugged impatiently at a knot, her eyes watering from pain.
He grabbed the comb. "Before you yank every strand from your head, let me try."
Methodically, he took her hair by sections and combed them free of tangles. On one bad knot, he disentangled the strands with his fingers. He continued to comb her hair, long after the last tangle was out.
Maybe the evening could be salvaged, she thought.
Jase stopped and passed the comb back to her.
As she took it, her cool hand touched his warm one.
Then he was over at the dresser, removing his gun belt and emptying his pockets, as though they'd never touched.
Jase caught sight of Marly in the mirror. It was the first time he had seen her when it was clear she was a girl. As baggy as they were, the combinations couldn't hide her feminine curves.
With a sigh, he pointed a finger at her and motioned her to turn her back. Then he stripped and stepped into the tub.
"Bath hot enough?" she asked, back still turned.
"Just great." He watched her braid her hair, then he leaned back. "You're missin' a strand."
"Shit," Marly swore, pulling apart her work.
Jase chuckled.
She swiveled around and glared at him. "What's so funny?"
"You are. You really aren't much of a lady. Or did you used to be prim back in Cherryville?"
She grinned. "My aunt kept threatening to wash my mouth out with soap because my language slipped every time I got excited."
"Did she?"
"Once. I threw up all over her nice white pinafore."
Jase laughed.
"How's this?" She showed off her braid.
Jase tilted his head and squinted. "A little messy at the end."
"Damn."
He sat up. "Come over here. Maybe I can fix it."
Marly pulled up a stool and sat with her back to him.
"No good," he said. "I can't get at it right. Give me a second. Just gotta give myself a scrub. I'll do your braid when I get out."
He started from the top and worked down, paying special attention to the back of his neck and behind the ears. Then he put down the wash cloth and reached for the brush.
"Damn." No brush. "How did you manage?"
"If you're willing to contort yourself, the cloth will work. But I've got a better idea."
She stood and pushed the stool aside. "Give me that."
Before he could protest, she pushed her sleeves up, soaped the cloth and started rubbing his back.
"This ain't proper," he said halfheartedly.
"Aunt Adele used to say I had no sense of propriety. She raised me well enough, but I was always getting into trouble. Least, that's what she called it. She blamed it on Sarge. I was with him for the better part of a year before she found out about me and summoned me back."
She worked the cloth over his shoulders and down his back as she talked, pushing her sleeves up higher as she descended below the water line.
"Aunt Adele blamed Sarge for my parents' death and my shortage of lady-like manners. She thanked him for bringing me home, but she wouldn't let him come back."
Jase glanced over his shoulder. Marly's scrubbing had slowed to a halt. Her eyes were far away. With a blink, she rinsed his back and started on his shoulders, this time cleaning his upper arms and chest.
"You know," she said softly, "he was going to take me west and we were going to have our own little ranch. I told you that, right?"
"Yep."
Jase was distracted. Marly had reached his buttocks.
Where was she going to stop?
"Yet, the only name I ever knew him by was Sarge," she said. "Isn't that odd?"
She rinsed off his upper torso and soaped the cloth again.
Marly's ministrations were creating a surge of heat in his lower extremities and it was getting a
bit uncomfortable.
He took the cloth from her hand. "Get dressed, brat. I'll take it from here."
Saturday was remarkably quiet due to the Egan party. The festivities started mid-afternoon when families began arriving with foodstuffs to contribute toward dinner. There were games for the children and horse races for the men. The dance was to start after supper and continue past sundown, though some families would leave in time to drive home in the light.
That left little time to raise trouble in town.
Or so Marly thought.
She had agreed to keep an eye on things.
Just about everyone in the community was invited to the Egans and all were intent on looking their best. Mr. Pervis was busy, more than making up for lost business after he had lost his spectacles. The general store was open in the morning to allow for last minute purchases of ribbons, string ties, pomade and perfume. The hotel, however, closed after breakfast and The Oasis and Haven were not expecting much business. Bill Sloane had given Hank the evening off and was closing the livery early to join his sister and her daughters at the dance. And by three o'clock, Fortuna was as quiet as Boot Hill and just about as lively.
Marly held the door open as Jase put the finishing touch on the knot in his silk bandana.
"I should ask Riley to stay with you, or at least do the patrol tonight," he said.
"Can't," she stated. "Troy is going to the social. Probably already gone. Mick is watching the bank. Just in case, he says."
Jase frowned.
She waved him out the door. "It's okay. Fred said he'd drop by later. I can handle it."
Jase mounted Grandee while she waited, arms folded, wearing her deputy badge and looking every bit the part she played.
He tipped his hat and rode off.
When he was out of sight, Marly hugged herself tightly, not nearly as sanguine as she acted. She hated being left behind and wanted nothing more than to dance all night long with Jase.
She went inside the office.
It was close to an hour's ride to the Egan house and when Jase rode up, the party was in full swing. He handed Grandee over to one of Matt Egan's men, securing his riding coat to the saddle.
He strolled over to the house, exchanging greetings with everyone he met. Some, he had never seen before. They were probably from ranches further out of town.
But they knew him.
Since Jase was wearing his Texas Ranger star and the badge of office as Fortuna's marshal, most greeted him by name.
The yard was decorated for the event with Chinese lanterns. A dance floor had been built on the front lawn, with a space for the musicians on the porch. The back porch was set up with tables for food and drink. Trestle tables and benches for eating supper lined the lawn. Beyond that, children were running a sack race.
The community had put on their festive best for the occasion. This ranged from worn calicos to new satin gowns and bright bandanas over work shirts to suits and string ties. The men stood in groups, talking. The women bustled back and forth, laying out food for the coming meal.
Matt Egan met Jase with a hearty handshake, but his cheerfulness diminished when he was told Marly Landers would not be at the social.
"Someone had to mind the office," Jase said.
"Why didn't you say so before? I could've let you have one of my men."
"Well, sir, no offense, but I'm investigatin' your men―amongst others―for the murder of Ellery Strothers. Kind as the offer is, it wouldn't exactly look right. Would it?"
Egan acknowledged the point with a half-shrug. "Amabelle will be disappointed. To be honest, I'm disappointed. I've grown rather fond of young Landers. There's just something about that lad."
"Kinda gets under your skin," Jase said.
An awkward silence fell between them and he immediately regretted his candor.
"Well," Egan said with a forced smile, "enjoy the evening, Marshal. Don't work too hard."
When the guests started to seat themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Winters invited Jase to join them. Mrs. Temple-Quinton was close at hand and the three each took turns trying to persuade him that he should take over the town marshal job―permanently.
Jase gave them a polite nod and thanked them, then excused himself as soon he could.
More than ever, he wanted to get out of Fortuna.
He was accosted by Amabelle Egan next.
"I need your help, Marshal," she said, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm.
"What's wrong?"
"Wrong? Not wrong exactly. I need your help persuading my brother to get the band to start playing. I know for a fact that they ate earlier."
Jase stared down at the girl. She put on her most charming smile and batted her eyelashes. Her mannerisms left him cold.
"Please, Marshal. I've got a brand-new muslin dress with silk ribbons just waiting to be twirled."
With a silent curse, he allowed her to lead him to her brother.
"People are still eating," Egan complained.
"Some of them will be eating all evening," Amabelle said.
In response to a prompting pinch on the arm, Jase added his entreaty. "I did promise Landers that I'd ask Miss Amabelle to dance. On his behalf."
"Good," she said. "After that, you can dance with me on your own behalf."
"Yes, ma'am."
Amabelle blushed.
Jase and Egan exchanged a look over the girl's head. In a word, it said, "Youth."
"I'll go ask the band to set up," Egan said. "You will wait until I lead Mrs. Winters or one of the other ladies to the floor before you start dancing. Understand?"
Amabelle nodded meekly. The moment her brother's back was turned, she dragged Jase over to her friends to show off her latest conquest.
Though the sun was setting, there was no lack of light. Lanterns glowed throughout the yard, along with handmade candles set on each table.
While musicians tuned their instruments, a crowd gathered around the boards that had been assembled into a large square-dance floor. Young girls in short skirts and ribbon sashes stood at the edge, dreaming of long skirts and courtiers. Their would-be beaus roamed in packs, trying to appear older and tougher than they were, totally oblivious to the girls' occasional glances. Many of their older brothers tried to be similarly nonchalant.
Jase observed this with some amusement and a touch of wistfulness. At their age he had been fighting.
Finally, the music started.
Moments later, Egan asked Mrs. Temple-Quinton to dance, and Jase and Amabelle joined them―to the obvious chagrin of her many young beaus. Jase led her around the floor in an energetic polka. Other dancers joined them in short order until the floor filled and the steady thump of feet on wood accompanied the music.
Shea O'Brian claimed Amabelle's hand next and Jase beseeched Rose Quinton's hand for the two-step, seeing her hovering at the side with the girls in short skirts. Though flustered at first, Miss Rose danced well and seemed to enjoy herself. He felt no compunction, therefore, presenting her to Shea O'Brian as a partner for the first waltz, though dinner conversation had made it obvious that Mrs. Temple-Quinton hoped that Rose would catch Matt Egan's eye.
Miss Amabelle was now dancing with the oldest Johnstone boy. Standing this dance out, Jase was able to observe Gabe Baker as he watched Amabelle. He was appreciative, but not obviously jealous. Young Johnstone was a handsome lad. After some moments, Baker lost interest in the dance, with its changing partners, and stepped back to converse with the men.
When Jase took Amabelle's hand for the next dance, he could feel Baker's eyes on them. When he glanced over during the dance, the man's attention was on Amabelle, not him.
It was true what Marly had surmised, Jase thought. Baker didn't feel threatened by any of the ranchers' sons, though they were a natural match for Miss Amabelle. The man didn't seem threatened by Jase either, which might have damaged the ego of a lesser man.
Baker had been jealous of Strothers. And by report, he was now jealous
of Marly.
How jealous?
There were certain aspects of her new career that Marly found dead boring. Having to stay in the office and guard prisoners was at the top of that list. Jase had warned her to check on them periodically and to give them the silent treatment.
That was easy. Every time they saw her, they either swore a blue streak or stared at her in sullen silence. They did try to cajole Duke when he brought them each a bowl of soup.
Duke shook his head. "Not this time, boys."
Later, Fred came over with a basket. "Why don't you do your rounds, Deputy Landers, while I lay out your supper?"
"Thank you, Fred."
"I can only stay a half hour this time. Miss Jezebel will be needing me. I shall return later, however."
"That sounds fine, Fred."
"If you would permit, Master Landers, I will stay and converse at that time."
Marly was grateful for the company. She had already finished three short stories about the daring career of Wild Bill Hickok that afternoon and the sameness of the adventures were beginning to tell. There were no new gun catalogues to peruse and she'd already read two of Shakespeare's plays.
Fred might not be lively, but he was intelligent. And he might be persuaded to talk about Jase's past.
It was a relief to get out of the office. Once outside, Marly breathed in the warm night air, grateful for the light breeze that cooled her skin. The Egans had been blessed with perfect weather for their party.
She wondered how it was going.
Was Jase dancing with one of the young ladies?
She scowled, not wanting to think about it.
Marly patrolled the streets, but all was pleasant and quiet. Mick Riley chatted with her, but was more intent on having a postprandial nap. The livery was quiet. At The Oasis, the only greeting she got was the admonition to get back to the office quick because Miz Jez wanted her dinner. She returned to the Marshal's Office and passed the message on to Fred.
"Miss Jezebel can wait a few minutes," he said.
Marly's eyes widened, but she said nothing as Fred served up a plate of cold roast beef, pickles and thickly cut bread. A jar of milk sat on the desk. He poured half the contents into one of the mugs.