by Alison Bruce
"I'll buy you some clothes. I can say it's for a present. No one will question me. Then there's the problem of makin' the transition. I think for that we better find you another place to stay."
Marly heaved a sigh. "It all seems so awkward. I think it would have been better if Charlie had left town. Better for him anyway."
Jase's eyebrow lifted.
She shook her head. "I'm not stupid."
Chapter 20
Marly had her suspicions from the start. She knew Jase was after someone, that he was hunting that person down. He'd never told her who that someone was and it had never come up in conversation. And he'd been happy to traipse after Charlie, on her word that the man was a criminal.
That could only mean one thing.
"You're after Charlie too," she said. "Aren't you?"
"I'm after the man who calls himself Charlie Meese, Chuck Masters, Charleston Mathers and probably a bunch of other C. M. names. I could arrest him and will eventually."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. Guess I was worried you'd think I'd bring him in before you could work out your business with Meese. I figured you might want the first go at him."
"You're right about that."
Jase had a late night drifting from saloon to saloon and casually inquiring after Charleston Mathers. His description was a little vague. He acted as though he was happy to take his time, that he was looking for a friend. His drawl got thicker as the evening wore on. He gave the impression that he was drinking a great deal more than he had and that he wasn't too smart.
Marly was gone when he woke up the next morning. He wasn't surprised. Maybe she'd decided to go to church. More likely, she was trying to pick up some work and more information.
At midday, he headed for the El Hombre.
"Seen my deputy?" he asked.
"The chico ordered a packed lunch," Pequeño told him.
"Strachan," a voice called out behind him.
Marshal Crowley joined him at the bar.
"Thought I'd find you here," the man said. To Pequeño, he said, "I'll have what he's having. With a shot of brandy."
Pequeño set a mug of laced coffee in front of the marshal and discreetly left them to their conversation.
Over the next hour, Jase answered Crowley's questions and asked a few of his own. He decided it was time to trust his old acquaintance, so he told him about his protégée's true gender, giving a condensed version of their adventures and leaving out her name and the reason she was looking for Meese. He painted a picture of an orphan in distress and threw himself on the mercy of the family man.
Crowley's face reddened with rage as he listened.
At suppertime, Marly strolled into the El Hombre. Smudged with dirt and soaked with sweat, it was easy to deduce how she had spent her day.
Jase waved over Crowley's shoulder.
When she arrived at the bar, he stood. "This is Marshal Frank Crowley. He has kindly offered to help us out with Meese. Crowley, this is Deputy Landers."
"Howdy," Marly said, wiping a grimy hand on her jeans and offering it to Crowley.
"Landers."
Jase noticed a faraway look in the older man's eyes, as if he were trying to recall something.
Pequeño brought Marly a beer.
She reached for the beer and took a deep gulp. "You know, I think I'm developing a taste for this stuff. It really does wash away the dust."
Jase groaned, then glanced back at Crowley.
The man was staring at Marly.
Jase cleared his throat. "Marly, I told the marshal about your predicament―our predicament. He's―"
"Marly Landers?" Crowley's eyes flared.
Marly gave him a puzzled look. ""Do I know you?"
The marshal's mouth floundered for words.
Jase watched with suspicion. What the hell was going on?
Suddenly, Marly gasped. "I do know you!"
She reached a hand out and Crowley grabbed it.
"Marly," he whispered. "I never thought I'd see you again."
At this, Jase felt a surge of jealousy wash over him.
"You two mind tellin' me what's goin' on?"
"This is Sarge," Marly said, laughing. "The one I told you about. The one who saved me."
He remembered. He also recalled that Sarge had been very protective of Marly. The man had killed his companions to preserve her safety.
Jase swallowed hard.
Maybe he'd better make his will out tonight. If Crowley decided that Jase deserved to die, he wasn't sure he'd put up a fight.
"I wanted to write you, Sarge," Marly said. "But I never knew you as anything but Sarge. If Aunt Adele knew your name, she wouldn't tell me."
"I thought as much," Crowley said. "I wrote you, but I never took it personally that I didn't hear back. I reckoned that your aunt wouldn't pass my letters on." He shook his head. "I was nuts to take you back to her."
Marly opened her mouth to comment.
"Why don't we get all caught up tonight," Jase interrupted. "Marly, we've been invited to supper at Marshal Crowley's home."
Marly kissed the man's cheek before leaving. "See you later, Sarge―I mean, Marshal."
With tears in his eyes, Crowley watched her leave.
Then he turned to Jase. "You know, son, you got a lot of explaining to do."
Jase sighed. "I reckon so."
Marly was not at her best when she met the Crowley family. Women wearing trousers were an acceptable necessity at times, but not at a family dinner. That she had been masquerading as a boy was not quite acceptable either. Fortunately, Mrs. Crowley was of a sympathetic and romantic disposition. It helped that she knew about the little girl that her husband had wanted to adopt and remembered so fondly.
The marshal and missus took great pleasure in introducing baby Marly, their first daughter. There was some awkwardness when Frank Jr. wondered why their baby Marly was a girl and their guest Marly was a boy.
Mrs. Crowley explained that both were girls, but that their guest had ridden a long way dressed as a boy to be safe. She insisted that Marly stay with them, starting immediately.
After supper, Jase was sent back to the El Hombre for her things. Marly was waiting for him on the front porch when he returned to the Crowleys home with her gun belt and saddlebags.
"You probably won't need this for a while," he said, handing her the gun belt.
Ignoring him, she strapped on the gun belt and attempted a quick draw. Jase caught her Winchester between his hands as it came up. She let go. He dropped it, catching it again by the trigger guard. The revolver spun on his finger. Then he flipped it up and caught it by the barrel and handed it back to her.
"Show off," she said, giving him a reluctant smile.
She sat down on the top step and Jase joined her.
She gathered her thoughts before speaking.
"When I first went to live with Aunt Adele," she said, "I fantasized about Sarge returning to take me to Texas. I felt like I had lost a second father. This reunion, coming here..." She shrugged. "It's strange. Mrs. Crowley wants me to call her Aunt Jeannie. She says she's looking forward to making me into a lady again. As if I was ever a lady to start with."
Jase placed his hand over hers. "I'd say she wasn't puttin' too many demands on your bein' a proper lady so far."
"Proper lady," Marly sneered.
"These are good folks. Understandin' folks. I don't blame Mrs. Crowley for not wantin' you to stay at the El Hombre. It ain't a suitable place for you. Safe, though she might not believe it, but not appropriate. I know you're not a big one for propriety, but aside from the fact they care about you, the Crowleys are helpin' us out."
She knew what he was saying was true, but she couldn't help the overwhelming sadness that gripped her heart. She and Jase had never been apart for long. And now she wouldn't be sleeping in the bed next to his.
"I know," she said. "It seems like a miracle finding Sarge. I am grateful that he remembers me and tha
t his family has accepted me into their home. But…" she glanced at him, "I'd rather have stayed with you."
He said nothing.
"That isn't proper now, is it?" she asked.
She held his eyes, willing him to argue.
"No," he agreed. "It ain't proper. Never really was."
Jase slept late, making up little for the restless night he'd spent. He got up and dressed. The silent, empty room mocked him and left him feeling aimless and sad.
Leaving the shed, he went inside the saloon.
"You look like something the cat dragged home," Pequeño remarked.
"Got any coffee?"
"Well, if I looked that bad, I'd have a temper too."
Pequeño brought out a pot and two cups, then led Jase to the back table. Setting the mugs down, the bartender looked over his shoulder. "Where's the chico? Pedro has made burritos for his breakfast."
"Gone."
"Gone where?"
"Just gone. Stayin' with his folks now."
"With no good bye?" Pequeño shook his head. "I don't buy that, amigo. You bring him back. Pedro won't be happy if you don't. An unhappy cook is bad for business."
"I don't think I can. This ain't exactly the most respectable joint in town, you know. The family might not approve."
"Don't tell them you're bringing him here."
Jase snorted. "They'd find out. Trust me."
"Make Pedro happy," Pequeño implored. "Make me happy. Maybe even make yourself happier."
"Good idea."
"That why they call me El Hombre."
Jase grinned. "Yeah, you're the man, my friend."
He had a few errands to run, but shortly before noon he was at the Crowleys home. A young girl answered the front door.
"I'm Mary-Beth," she said when Jase introduced himself. "I'm looking after the children."
"I'm lookin' for Marly."
"Mrs. Crowley took her out shopping. You can meet them at the Traveler's Inn."
The Traveler's Inn was a modest and respectable looking edifice. The adobe was whitewashed and there were chintz curtains across the bottom of the windows. It was the kind of proper establishment a young woman should be seen in.
Marshal Crowley intercepted him in the doorway.
"A girl named Mary-Beth―"
Crowley held up a hand. "Silliest girl in the state, but the children love her. You're here, that's what counts. I promised Marly I'd find you." He put a hand on Jase's shoulder, stopping him from entering the inn. "I should warn you, she isn't too comfortable in her skirts. She might need a bit of encouragement."
Jase spotted Mrs. Crowley over the marshal's shoulder.
Beside her stood a young lady. She was stunning in beauty and grace, and the smile she aimed at Crowley's wife was breathtaking.
For a second, he thought the beauty was the shopkeeper.
Then he realized who it was.
He pushed past Crowley. "Marly?"
Marly turned and her smile froze.
She wore a blue calico dress that brought out the vibrant sapphire of her eyes. Though it was probably one of Mrs. Crowley's dresses, the woman had cinched it in where needed and it fit Marly like a glove, flowing out from her narrow waist.
Instead of one long braid, Marly's hair was plaited in two braids that were pinned up in a circlet around her head. Jase suspected that the severe style was one Aunt Adele favored. Marly probably used it without thinking.
Still, it brought out her high cheekbones and soft lips.
Lips he longed to kiss.
As they approached the table, Marly started to rise. Mrs. Crowley stopped her with a hand on her arm. Ladies did not stand for gentlemen.
Knowing he was supposed to be encouraging, Jase said, "That's a nice dress."
It sounded weak even to his ears, but he was off-balance. He couldn't think of a thing to say that would be appropriate at this time and place.
Marly seemed to be having the same problem.
"The post comes in this afternoon," Crowley said, filling in the awkward silence. "Your boy might get a bit suspicious if his package doesn't turn up."
"So this is a good time for me to claim it," Marly said. "Then Charlie Meese―or whatever he is calling himself―will have to confront me."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Mrs. Crowley objected.
"I have to do it, ma'am. I have a score to settle."
"She won't be alone," Jase said. "Marshal Crowley and I plan to keep Marly in sight at all times. Besides, Marly can take pretty good care of herself."
At least, he sure hoped so.
The stage brought the mail in late afternoon. Passengers debarked and most checked into the nearby Traveler's Inn. One well-dressed gentleman went straight to the Alhambra. Another man in less flashy attire spoke to the driver, then wandered down the road.
Marly observed this from the porch of the inn where she sat, ankles crossed, with Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey open on her lap. She had changed from calico to a brown riding skirt with a matching jacket worn open over a pleated blouse. The suit had been bought and fitted earlier in the day, the tailor putting this job above all others for the sake of the marshal's ward. Though it was fancier than the old calico dress, she was more comfortable in her new outfit.
After waiting a half hour, she strolled into the post office. She moved with the deportment of a lady and the composure of a Texas Ranger.
Ignoring a couple of waiting customers, she made her way to the counter. "You have a package for Marly Landers?"
The postmaster looked up from sorting mail. "Yes, ma'am." He glanced over her shoulder. "That gentleman over there has been asking for the same package."
She peeked at a man seated on a bench, staring at his dusty boots.
It was Charlie.
Why had she thought he was so special? He was of average height and build, with average features. Nothing special about him.
Except he could charm a rattlesnake right out of its skin.
She eyed the postmaster. "He might be looking for it, but he's not Marly Landers. I am." She pushed a sheet of paper across the counter.
The postmaster nodded. "The package is yours."
Aware that Charlie was now standing behind her, she signed for the package, tucked it under her arm and left the office, with only a bare acknowledgement of Charlie's presence.
As expected, he followed her outside.
On the sidewalk, Charlie took her elbow and guided her away from the small crowd waiting for their mail.
"I'm glad you decided to meet me," he said, his tone dulcet.
"You didn't give me much choice."
"When did you get to town? How did you get here?" There was an edge to the questions. "You weren't on the stage. I've been watching for you."
She jerked her arm away. "Don't pretend you care about anything but the money. I give you this," she held up the parcel, "and you'll be gone."
He gave her a smoldering gaze and matching smile.
Now she remembered what had attracted her. It was that focused attention, that feeling of being desired above all else.
"We're attracting attention," she said.
Passersby stared, but gave them a wide berth. No one interfered in what seemed to be a lovers' quarrel.
"Let them look," Charlie said with arrogance.
"There's a Texas Ranger after you."
"I know, angel." He put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll tell you what, you hold onto that money until we're married in Mexico. We'll leave town right away. Can you get a horse?"
"Yeah."
"Good girl. Meet me at Kirby's Livery in an hour. It's near the Alhambra. And don't forget to bring the money." As he spoke, he closed the gap between them.
"Yes, we can't forget that," she said.
"The money is so we can make a life together." Touching her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. "It's always been about you and me, angel. Believe it."
When he smoothed his hands down her arms, she shi
vered.
An hour later, Marly approached the livery with caution, half expecting an ambush. Portia waited nearby as one of Kirby's stable boys saddled her. Charlie's horse stood ready.
She handed the stunned stable boy a dime. "Go."
"Yes, Miss."
"All set, angel?"
Charlie strode up to her. He was carrying a carpetbag.
"I have a horse," she said. "That's all. I don't even have a change of clothes."
"We'll buy what we need across the border." He patted his carpet bag. "Between us, we have plenty of money to live in the lap of luxury for years."
Marly went to her saddle and checked the cinches. "So who else did you steal from, Charlie?"
Charlie turned, his face set in a practiced expression of gentle indignation. It wavered a bit when he saw the Winchester carbine pointing at him.
"Angel, don't be silly. What I have will be yours once we're married. Besides, you can't go back and you can't make it on your own without me."
"I made it this far. Unbuckle your gun belt, please." She cocked the rifle for emphasis.
"Sweetheart, what is this? Did you think I ran off on you?" His tone was wheedling, but he unbuckled his gun belt and held it out. "I would have taken you with me if I thought it was safe."
She gritted her teeth to keep from blowing his kneecap off.
"Put it down and stand back."
He dropped the gun belt and took two steps back, then another two when she urged him with her carbine.
She reached for his belt, but her skirt got in the way. When she straightened, Charlie had Derringer two-shot in his hand. As he cocked it, she raised her rifle.
A shot rang out.
Charlie dropped the gun and clutched his wrist. "Damn!"
"Never split your attention when you're coverin' someone, Marly." Jase stepped out into the open. "Wanna cuff him?"
He made an underhand toss and she caught the handcuffs.
Without crossing Jase's line of sight, she went to Charlie, yanked his hands behind his back and secured them.