Strong Convictions: An Emmett Strong Western (Emmett Strong Westerns Book 1)

by GP Hutchinson

Emmett knew his face was still red. “Shut your big bazoo,” he said. What was this? He wasn’t fifteen any more. He shouldn’t be embarrassed about his attraction to a grown woman.

  “Well, well, well.” Sikes chuckled and elbowed Juanito. “This certainly isn’t the Emmett Strong we saw at the saloon down in El Paso, is it? Not even Geneve made him behave this way.”

  “Saloon girls never were his style,” Juanito said. “But in the past five years I’ve never seen anybody turn his head like this.”

  Emmett glared at them. “I said keep it down. I don’t want folks thinking anything strange about me.”

  “Hermano, there’s nothing strange about a man thinking a pretty woman is…well, pretty.”

  “Yeah, well, you saw ’em both throw those weapons.” He nodded toward the section of tree trunk with the still-embedded cleaver and chopsticks. “Papas don’t like strangers staring at their daughters…even if their daughters are pretty.”

  Sikes stabbed another piece of steak. “You know what some folks out here call the Chinese?” he said. “Celestials.”

  “Celestiales?” Juanito asked.

  Sikes nodded. “The Chinese refer to their country as the Celestial Kingdom.” Then he glanced at Emmett and said, “But in this case perhaps celestial has another connotation.”

  Both Sikes and Juanito chuckled.

  “This conversation is over, gents,” Emmett said.

  Looking the other way, he saw that the four white Americans were leaving. Chinese customers still occupied three tables—families at two tables, three men around another.

  “You want to talk to her?” Juanito asked.

  “Didn’t I say this conversation was over?”

  “Sí. Your mouth said it. But your eyes are still talking about her.”

  Emmett cut him off with a glower. “Now that the other Americans are gone, I wouldn’t mind talking to Yong Xu…about the Blaylocks.”

  “Always work, hermano.”

  “Didn’t we come up here for a reason?” Emmett speared a slice of steak.

  Li Xu returned to the dining room carrying some kind of Chinese mandolin. Situating herself on a chair in the corner nearest the kitchen, she began to play.

  Emmett observed that some of the Chinese customers were nodding in approval. When one of the children pointed at her and began to babble, she smiled back at the little fellow. Emmett’s insides fluttered.

  Minutes later, Yong Xu came in to collect his cleaver. When he glanced their way, Emmett motioned him over and asked for a word with him.

  “Of course,” Yong Xu answered.

  “I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me.”

  Yong Xu put on a businesslike face and pulled a chair over from the adjacent table.

  “We’ve traveled a long way,” Emmett began, “and we’re not here for silver or adventure.” He introduced himself, Juanito, and Sikes by name and told Yong Xu that they were Texas Rangers. He went on to tell the story of how Charlie Blaylock had shot Eli. An account of the shootout at the Blaylock cabin followed, then Timothy’s explanation of where Charlie Blaylock had fled to and why. He told his Chinese host what he’d found out from the telegraph operator in El Paso. Then he asked, “Can you tell us anything about Blaylock? Is it true what Timothy told us—that Seth Blaylock is a very wealthy and influential man in these parts? We’ve heard he practically runs Carson City.”

  Li Xu’s music continued in the background, lyrical and mysterious.

  “First of all, there are many wealthy and powerful men in the Comstock country,” Yong Xu said. “Plenty of them in Virginia City.”

  “What about Carson City?” Emmett asked.

  “I have friends there, and it’s a little different. The McIntosh family runs Carson City. No one dares to go against Thaddeus McIntosh.”

  “So it’s not Seth Blaylock that runs Carson City. Have you heard of Seth Blaylock?”

  Yong Xu pinched his lip and thought for a moment. Shaking his head slowly, he said, “I don’t think so. But I can ask around.”

  “Be careful about that,” Emmett said. “We ought to be able to approach the local law about my brother’s murderer ourselves. But sometimes the very wealthy make certain it’s their own people who hold office as marshals and sheriffs. When men like that wear the badge, guilt and innocence can become slippery ideas.”

  Yong Xu’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. “From what I understand, that is exactly how it is in Carson City. McIntosh tells the town officials what to do. And they do it.”

  Emmett eyed his pardners.

  Juanito thumbed his mustache. “Good to know.”

  “Yong Xu,” Emmett said, “if you don’t mind, go ahead and ask your friends about Seth and Charlie Blaylock for us. Just be sure they’re friends you can trust. Friends who won’t go running their mouths in the street.”

  “Give me a day or two,” Yong Xu said. “I’ll be very careful.”

  Li Xu leaned her mandolin against the wall in the corner and disappeared into the kitchen. Emmett heard female voices speaking Chinese. Then Li came out carrying four buckets.

  As she neared the table on the way to the door, she gave Emmett an innocent smile.

  Before he knew it, he was asking aloud, “Going to fetch water?”

  She broke her stride and lingered. “Yes. For washing dishes.”

  Sikes began speaking to the girl’s father. “Yong Xu,” he said, “with Her Majesty’s army I’ve traveled extensively, all around the world. But I’ve never been to China.” He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’d be fascinated to hear about your ancestral home.”

  “Really?” Yong Xu asked.

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  Beneath the table, Sikes toed Emmett’s boot. When Emmett frowned at him, he tossed his head subtly toward Li Xu. And toward the door.

  Yong Xu enthusiastically embarked on a description of China as it had been back in the 1850s.

  Blazes! Emmett thought. What’ve I got to lose?

  Carefully he slid back his chair. As Yong Xu delved into his recollections, Emmett rose to his feet. He reached out and attempted to gently pry the buckets from Li Xu’s hands.

  She resisted. “I don’t need help,” she said softly. “But thank you anyway.” Her polite smile faded while her gaze remained locked on his.

  Had he misunderstood the subtle cues? Or had he only imagined them?

  “No, I insist,” he said, easing the buckets from her grasp.

  Her smile this time was sheepish, but she yielded and led the way to the door.

  I hope I don’t regret this, he thought.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Charlie Blaylock had been waiting three days for his brother, Seth, to return from some sort of business trip. He had no idea yet exactly what kind of business had made his brother so all-fired rich, but it was plain to see Seth Blaylock had money…and plenty of it.

  There was a cook and a full-time live-in maid at the big Blaylock house just outside of Reno. It was a two-story place with a porch that wrapped all the way around the first floor. Fully painted on the outside. Fancy trim too.

  Inside, Seth’s home was finished with fine wallpapers and—in some rooms—rich wood paneling. There was even a built-in bathtub. Paintings of hunting scenes hung on several walls. And Seth had books—lots of books on wooden shelves in his personal parlor. That’s the room Seth’s maid lady had told Charlie he should make himself at home in when he wasn’t out on the porch.

  Charlie expected Seth to arrive any minute now, according to what the cook had said. Even though he was clean shaved, and even though the maid lady had washed—and even ironed—the clothes he was wearing, when he looked down at their threadbare condition and considered that they were the best clothes he owned, he felt self-conscious. One quick look would bear testimony that his story wa
s different from Seth’s. It bothered him that the notion even entered his mind, but he couldn’t help worrying that money might possibly have made his brother…well, uppity.

  Other than that, Charlie was looking forward to seeing Seth. It had been seven years. Thomas’s death at Adobe Walls had sent the brothers off in two different directions. He was anxious to tell Seth how he’d finally settled the score, at last paying back the man he held most responsible for Thomas’s premature demise. He hoped that accomplishment alone would please Seth enough to earn him a welcome spot in his younger brother’s home. He hoped it would make Seth just as proud of him as he was of Seth. And truthfully he was very proud of his brother for coming up here to Nevada all by his lonesome—with nothing whatsoever in his hands—and turning his tale into one of luxury and power and influence. He could hardly wait to hear how Seth had done it all.

  Seth’s got to be smart as all get-out, he thought. And more’n a little lucky. Nobody gets this rich without some luck. He figured the silver mines must’ve gotten Seth started, but from everybody’s reactions, he was pretty sure Seth was no longer directly involved in the mining business.

  Charlie’s heartbeat picked up when he heard a small ruckus at the front door. Sounded like the maid letting folks in. Charlie stood, straightened his vest, and mopped his hair back with both hands before striding anxiously out into the hallway.

  And suddenly, there they were. For just a second, the two stood there staring at one another, neither saying a word.

  Charlie sized up his brother—a man, not a kid. Dirty-blond hair, a little on the long side, but handsomely groomed. And my, oh my, what clothes! A regular Belvidere stood before him: dark-blue patterned silk vest, crisp shirt, creased trousers. Charlie figured if he looked down, he’d be able to see himself in the sheen of Seth’s fine boots.

  The one item that caught Charlie’s eye above all others, though, was his brother’s gun rig. Sweet Molly! That soft, dark leather had to have been custom engraved. And then there were the ivory grips of Seth’s Schofield revolver. Those weren’t cheap either.

  At last he said, “Looks like time’s been good to you, Seth Blaylock. I’m real proud.”

  A subtle smile bowed Seth’s lips. “Well, it’s mighty fine to see you too, Charlie Blaylock.”

  Seth edged aside as someone else slipped through the doorway and immediately stole the spotlight. She too wore trousers, a vest, and a shirt—high quality—and a gun rig every bit as impressive as Seth’s. But they fit her unlike anything he’d ever seen on a lady. He’d met strong women before. None so petite and feminine, though. Dark hair braided tightly on both sides of her head joined into one plait at the back. Her deep-brown eyes shone in the lamplight.

  It was the whole person that captivated Charlie, not any one feature. Never had he imagined such beauty and perhaps such…deadliness bound up in one person. He felt as though a mountain lioness had just slinked into the hall and poised beside Seth. Could this be his brother’s wife?

  “Charlie, I’d like you to meet my dear friend Ettie,” Seth said. “Ettie’s my conscience. She helps me keep from strayin’.”

  Ettie gave a warmer-than-expected smile but said nothing as she adjusted her fine paisley neckerchief.

  “Come along, big brother,” Seth said as he set off toward the parlor. “Let’s enjoy a whiskey before dinner. You’ve got to tell me about your trip.” He handed his gloves and hat to the maid lady without giving her so much as a passing glance.

  Seth slid the parlor door shut, fetched a cut crystal decanter, and poured for Ettie, Charlie, and himself.

  “Sit, please.” Seth motioned to a leather armchair. Meanwhile, he perched on the edge of his desk.

  Charlie noted that Seth carried himself with pride and confidence. “I know it’s been too long, brother,” he said. “But I didn’t feel I could come up here till I settled that ol’ score down in Texas. Finally did, Seth. Finally sent Eli Strong to the undertaker and straight on down to hell.” His eyes darted to Ettie. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Seth nodded unenthusiastically. “Now Eli Strong…That was the lieutenant who failed to take his troopers up to Adobe Walls back when Thomas and the other buffalo hunters were in trouble up there, right?”

  Charlie blinked several times. How could Seth treat this as if it was practically nothing? “Yes. Eli Strong’s the one who, like a coward, wouldn’t attack Quanah Parker and all them Comanches while they was busy slaughtering our brother. He was as much a murderer as them damn Indians.” His eyes shot to Ettie again. “Sorry, ma’am,” he said. “Don’t mean to keep cussin’ in front of you.”

  Ettie nodded. “Not a problem.” Her voice was smooth as silk.

  When Seth failed to respond right away, Charlie continued, “And then when the whole affair was over, he personally went and settled Chief Quanah Parker on a big ol’ farm up in Indian Territory. Meanwhile, it was up to the families to go retrieve the bleached bones of their brothers and fathers from Adobe Walls—if they dared.”

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” Seth said. “I’m sorry I left you to carry all that burden by yourself. I’m afraid once I arrived up here in minin’ country, I put all that behind me. Maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  Charlie stared. After a pause he said, “Well, maybe that’s what big brothers are for—to take care of matters so the younger ones don’t have to face the ugly business.”

  “Well, thank you, big brother. Now maybe you can rest and find a place in the new life I’ve made for myself up here in Nevada.”

  Charlie couldn’t decide whether Seth was talking down to him or not.

  “So how’d it go down?” Seth asked. “How’d you finally take Eli Strong?”

  Suddenly Charlie felt a fresh wind of righteous indignation. He set his whiskey tumbler on the side table, tugged on the legs of his trousers, and spoke as much with his hands as with his words. “That Eli Strong went on to become somebody big down in Texas. Went on to win hisself a spot in the Texas state senate.”

  Seth nearly spewed his drink. “Hell, Charlie, don’t tell me you waited till the man became a senator before you beefed him!”

  “Never had the chance before that, Seth,” Charlie said, clenching his fists. “Man always had a passel of soldiers or some other armed men around him.”

  “So where’d you do the deed? In front of a crowd?”

  “It weren’t a crowd exactly. More like a few friends.”

  “Where? Where’d it go down?” Seth clomped his tumbler down on the desk and leaned toward Charlie.

  “In the street. Front of a restaurant in Austin.”

  “And you got away clean?”

  “Sure did,” Charlie said. “I had it all planned out. I was already in the saddle. Let him have it in the belly so he’d die good and slow, but die for certain. And then I hightailed it outta town. Never saw not one lawman behind me the whole way out here.”

  Seth rubbed his upper lip and glanced at Ettie. She stood, leaning coolly against the wall, ankles crossed, one thumb hooked in her vest pocket.

  “So why’d you come here, Charlie? Really now. To find out how your brother’s doin’? Or to lay low from the Texas Rangers?”

  Charlie shuffled. “Maybe a bit of both,” he mumbled.

  Seth raked his fingers through his hair. He slowly blew out a stream of air. “It’s all right. It’s all right, brother. They won’t come all the way up here. And if they do…” He gazed at Ettie.

  She gave a wry smile.

  Seth chuckled. “If any Texas lawmen are dumb enough to come sniffin’ around here for you, why, I believe they’ll find a bit more trouble than they ever bargained for.”

  Just as swiftly as storm clouds had swept into the room, sunshine broke through on Seth’s face again. One more long exhalation and he looked every bit as calm and confident as when they’d first come into the parlor.

  With
arms held wide, he said, “I’ve done well for myself up here, Charlie. So forget Texas now. This is Nevada—the Silver State.” He grinned broadly.

  Charlie wiped his nose, then grinned too. “So silver. Is that how you got your start up here, little brother? ’Cause I wouldn’t mind rollin’ up my sleeves. Find my own self a piece of the wealth.”

  Seth and Ettie eyed one another.

  “Silver?” Seth said. “Only indirectly.”

  “Well, what do you do then?” Charlie asked. “You in the cattle business?”

  Again Seth peeked at Ettie. She now peered at the floor.

  “Yeah, you might say I’m in livestock,” Seth said.

  “Looks like it’s goin’ well for you,” Charlie said. “Can you use a hand? I don’t expect to be treated no different than any other employee, but I’d appreciate you findin’ somethin’ for me to do for hire…if you can.”

  Seth rose from the corner of the desk. “I’m sure I can put you to work, Charlie. We’ll find a place for you.”

  Charlie fidgeted and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Seth. ’Specially sorry if by accident I brought some Texas law dogs up here followin’ me.”

  “I can assure you,” Seth said, touching Ettie’s shoulder and starting for the door, “it would be a mistake of monumental proportions for any Texas lawmen to come lookin’ for you while you’re under my protection. Let’s go get some dinner.”

  Is that what it is? It suddenly struck Charlie. He wasn’t just lying low or relocating. He was under his little brother’s protection now. The notion chafed his pride. But it was the truth.

  He grabbed Seth’s arm. “As long as we’re on the subject, I got just one other concern.”

  Seth and Ettie stopped in place.

  “Ain’t none of them Texas men worries me,” Charlie said. “Except maybe Eli Strong’s little brother. Emmett Strong used to have quite the reputation as a pistolero. Reputation’s lost some of its shine lately. But I hear he’s still mighty good.”

  Seth looked Charlie in the eye. “Wasn’t too bright of you to do it how you did it, Charlie. But don’t you worry. You’re safe here. We’re used to makin’ lawmen do what we aim for ’em to do.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll bet even Ettie here can take that Emmett Strong if he comes nosin’ around.”