by Jane Toombs
“He went off to Mr. Tunstall’s with Billy.” Jules’ lower lip pushed out. “Ezra never takes me. Says I’m too little. I’m not!” He swiveled on the piano stool until his back was to Mark. He hit middle C on the keyboard.
“Can you play the piano?” Mark asked.
In answer Jules ran the fingers of his right hand up and down the scale.
“Very good.”
Jules spoke with his back to Mark. “Mr. McSween’s teaching me. But Ezra says I need to learn how to shoot and that men don’t play the piano.”
Mark got up and walked to the piano, spinning the stool so Jules faced him. “Every man needs to know how to shoot. That doesn’t mean a man can’t also play the piano. I’m sure Mr. McSween knows how to shoot and he plays the piano, doesn’t he? “
Jules gave a reluctant nod. “But Ezra says boys who play the piano are sissies. That only girls play.”
“Do I look like a girl?” Jules shook his head.
“Well, I took piano lessons when I was a boy and I can play.”
Jules slid off the stool. “Show me.”
Mark glanced over his shoulder. Damn. Now he’d done it. Reluctantly, he sat on the stool and poised his hands over the keys. He didn’t want to play. Not only because he was at the McSween’s piano without their permission, but because he didn’t want to be reminded of the past. He saw Jules’ mouth tighten, saw doubt gather in his eyes, eyes grayer than Tessa’s, but black-lashed the same as hers. Behind Jules he noticed a fat red candle flickering in a silver holder on the mantel.
It was the Christmas season.
Mark brought his fingers down on the keys for the first chorus of “God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen.” As he played he was aware of Jules getting closer until finally the boy leaned against him. When the last notes died away, the boy straightened.
“I know that song.” he said. “Papa used to sing it at Christmas. Will you teach me to play it?”
Mark nodded and offered the stool to the boy. Soon Jules was picking out the melody with one hand.
“You’ve got a good ear for music,” Mark told him.
“I heard you playing.” Tessa’s voice came from behind them.
Mark whirled around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in. I hope my playing won’t upset Mrs. McSween.”
Tessa smiled. “If I know Jules, he wheedled you into it.”
His heart leaped at her smile. She looked especially lovely in a high-necked cream-colored wool dress with a hint of bustle. He was about to tell her so when Susie swept into the room. She wore a gown of bright green, pointing up the red of her hair. It had an elaborate train over the bustle and the neckline dipped to show the tops of her breasts--a stunning woman.
“Why Mr., Halloran, she exclaimed, taking his hand, “you’re a man of hidden talent, aren’t you?”
Still holding his hand, she turned to Tessa. “Be a dear and ask Rosalita to bring in some wine and cake.”
As Tessa left the room, Susie said to Jules, “Run along now. You’ve practiced enough for one day. Rosalita will give you your cake in the kitchen.” “He’s a dear boy,” she said after Jules hurried away. “But children can be tiring. My sister has five and I swear I don’t know how she manages. “ She drew Mark toward a settee, seated herself and patted the place beside her. “Right here. We can have a cozy little chat.”
Mark sat down, but protested, “I came to see Tessa--that is, Miss Nesbitt.”
“Of course. But Tessa simply insists on helping Rosalita—she’s so concerned about paying her way—so we might as well talk until she returns.” Susie leaned toward Mark , her bodice gaping slightly so that he could almost see her nipples.
The scent of jasmine surrounded him. Susie looked up at him through her lashes. “It’s a shame we didn’t meet before now,” she murmured as her hand brushed along his thigh, as if by accident.
Mark swallowed. He’d been a long time without a woman; Susie might be obvious, but she was tempting. He wondered how much was teasing and how much she meant.
“I only hope you’ll stop by to see me after we return from St. Louis,” she said. “We’re going there for Christmas. You and I have music in common already.” She ran her tongue along her lips. “I wonder what else we might find to share an interest in?”
Damn it, her nearness was having its effect. He smiled at her. “I’ll keep your invitation in mind.”
“See that you do.” Her voice was husky.
I’ve got to move away from her. He looked up.
Tessa stood in the archway to the foyer with a tray in her hands, staring at Susie and him.
* * *
A knot tightened in Tessa’s stomach as she carried the loaded tray to the table at the far end of the room. She knew Susie liked to flirt, and if Alex didn’t mind, it was certainly none of Tessa’s business. But Mark didn’t have to sit so close to Susie with such a silly smile on his face. What was the matter with him? He knew perfectly well Susie was a married woman. Maybe he’d really come to see Susie instead of her. The knot inside Tessa twisted.
“May I help you?” Mark’s voice asked, close to her.
“No, thank you. I wouldn’t think of troubling you.” He stood beside her, but she didn’t look at him.
“You’re angry.” He spoke softly, almost in her ear.
Susie began to play “Joy To The World,” with frills and flourishes.
Tessa turned toward Mark. “I am not angry.” She spit the words through her teeth. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the first time we met,” he said.
‘“That’s hardly my fault.”
“This was my first chance to get into town. I’ve thought of you all the time. Worried
about you.”
Tessa looked into his eyes, eyes as deep and rich a brown as an English chestnut. The knot in her stomach dissolved as a tingling warmth shot though her. She wished he would touch her and yet at the same time feared he would, for she didn’t know what would happen if he did. Nothing in her entire life had prepared her for the way Mark affected her.
“Tessa,” he said. “Tessa.”
She felt as though she couldn’t breathe.
Susie finished the carol with a thundering chord and turned on the stool. All the gaiety had drained from her face.
“Isn’t there something you can do to persuade Mr. Dolan to stop persecuting Alex?” she asked Mark.
“Persecuting him, ma’am?”
“Oh, don’t call me that. I’m Susie. But, yes, it’s obvious his intention is to force poor Alex to leave Lincoln. Alex is so kind. A God-fearing man. He wouldn’t harm anyone. Yet the man you work for makes him out to be a criminal and threatens to have him put in jail. I’m quite beside myself.”
“Susie and Alex are making a trip to St. Louis in a few days,” Tessa put in.
“Alex insists. He knows how nervous all this makes me.” Susie raised her chin. “But I’ll be back. My duty is to remain at Alex’s side. “I’m afraid I’m not in Mr. Dolan’s confidence when it comes to his personal affairs,” Mark said. “I’m just the ranch foreman.
“Your employer is a devious man.”
“That’s as may be, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that!” Susie’s voice rose almost to a shriek as she got up abruptly from the piano stool.
She was upset. When she’d seen Susie flirting with Mark, she’d thought Susie had quite forgotten all the problems Alex shared with her.
Tessa didn’t exactly understand, except it seemed Mr. Dolan claimed Alex had kept insurance money he should have paid out to Mr. Murphy, who was Mr. Dolan’s partner. It was somewhat confusing.
“I’m sorry,” Mark said. “Susie.”
“That’s better.” Susie smiled at him but it was plain to see her heart wasn’t in it. “I find I’m more tired than I thought, so if you’ll excuse--”
The front door opened. Alex strode in, followed by John Tunstall. Alex went on past them, and Susie trailed after him. John advanced on
Tessa, ignoring Mark.
“I’ve come to persuade you to go east with Alex and Susie,” he said. “Until this affair with Dolan blows over.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Tessa said. “I’m staying here with my brothers.”
John eyed Mark, frowning, before turning again to Tessa. “You could bring Jules with you. Ezra can stay on my ranch. He and Billy Bonney get along famously.”
Tessa shook her head. “That’s kind of you but no.” She felt panicky at the notion of separating the family. Besides, she was already obligated to the McSween’s and wouldn’t dream of having them pay her fare from the railhead at Trinidad, Colorado, to St. Louis. “I’m certain Mr. Dolan isn’t going to harm me,” she added
“Not directly perhaps,” John said. He looked at Mark. “It’s hard to understand why a decent sort of chap, as you appear to be, would continue to work for such a conniving and unscrupulous man.”
Mark scowled. “I don’t think I need to explain myself to you or anyone else.”
“No?” John took a step closer to him. “The way things stand, neither Alex nor myself can trust any man who works for Dolan.”
“But, John,” Tessa said, “he came here to see me,”
“Did he? Or was he sent as a spy?”
Tessa saw Mark clench his fists. Not another fight! she thought in dismay. “Maybe you’d better leave, Mark,” she said hastily.
“And I suggest you don’t return,” John added.
Mark brushed past John, picked up his hat and jacket. At the door he turned to look at Tessa. “I’ll come back if you want me to,” he said.
She bit her lip. Glancing from him to John. She was staying with the McSween’s, so she mustn’t cause trouble for them. She wanted to see Mark again, but…“It’s obvious you’re embarrassing the lady,” John said.
Mark nodded his head in farewell and went out. Tessa took a quick step toward the door but stopped when John spoke.
“You’re better off without that chap, my dear,” he said.
She smiled uncertainly at him. Her head told her John was right, but her heart ached all the same.
Chapter 3
A northeaster swept in the second week in February, the icy winds piling the snow in drifts, and no one left their firesides unless they had to.
Alex McSween, who’d wound up spending Christmas in a Las Vegas jail, had been released on eight thousand dollar bail was back home. He sat with Jules by the fireplace, telling him stories from the Bible, while Tessa sewed.
Susie was still in St. Louis. Once he’d gotten out of jail, he’d seen her safely there but came back to Lincoln early in January. He’d traveled to Mesilla, on the Rio Grande, the first of February for a court hearing and had just gotten back to Lincoln before the northeaster blew in.
Tessa rather enjoyed the coziness of being shut in. It reminded her of when Papa was alive. Ezra, though, grew restless after the third day.
“I could make it to Tunstall’s ranch,” he said after she’d left the fireside to polish silver in the dining room.
“It’s Mr. Tunstall.”
“Aw, nobody says mister when he’s talking about a fella.” “Your father tried hard to teach you good manners,” she said.
“English manners.” Ezra looked at her defiantly. “I’m not English now, I’m American.”
“Whatever you think you are, you’re not to try riding to the ranch in this weather. You spend too much time there as it is, You mustn’t presume on Mr. Tunstall’s kindness.”
“I do chores for him.”
Tessa raised her eyebrows. “In the winter? With all the hands he employs? I can’t believe even half of them keep busy this time of the year.”
“Well, I did do chores before Christmas. Besides, Billy says when a man’s practicing his shooting, he ought not to miss a day. I have to get better so I can protect Tunstall, because Dolan threatened to get him soon.”
Tessa frowned. “Did Billy tell you that?”
“Everybody knows about how Dolan and Jesse Evans and his gang threatened McSween and Tunstall on the way back from Mesilla last week.”
“I didn’t know it.”
“Dolan threw down on Tunstall, but some deputy stopped him. “How terrible!”
“So you see I have to practice with Billy. He’s the best shot Tunstall’s got.”
“I realize he’s an excellent shot. I’ve never forgotten he and Mark saved our lives. But, Ezra, I don’t thinks it’s good to tag after Billy all the time. You need to make friends your own age, too. What about Ira Fowler, here in town? He’s fourteen and I thought he was a nice boy.” “Yeah, he’s okay,’ Ezra’s tone lacked enthusiasm.
“Okay? What kind of a word is that?”
“You know what it means. I’m going to talk like I want to.”
Tessa felt helpless as she looked at her brother. He’d grown so these past couple of months. John had given Ezra some of his old clothes and already they were almost too small for him, He was going to be a big man, like their father. He’d be a good-looking man, too, she thought, surprised, for she’d never considered him as a man.
“You just want to keep me away from Billy!” Ezra burst out. “You’d rather I acted like
Halloran, I suppose. Playing the piano. Keeping company with liars and thieves like Dolan hires.” “Ezra!”
He spun away from her and flung out of the dining room, stomping off to the east wing where he shared a room with Jules.
Tessa sighed. What was she going to do with Ezra? So far he hadn’t openly disobeyed her, but she sensed he soon would. Then what? He needed a man’s influence. Not Billy, who was only three years older than Ezra and, according to what she’d heard, wild and wise beyond his years.
Ezra liked John, Maybe if she talked to John about him, John would be able to help.
There was Calvin Rutledge, too. Ezra didn’t know him well, but she’d been seeing a great deal of Calvin since Christmas and he struck her as an upright man.
Alex quoted Bible verses to the boys in lieu of discipline. He’d asked both of them to call him Uncle Alex, and that’s what he seemed to be, a benevolent uncle to them. Too easy-going.
Resolutely she kept her thoughts from Mark. She hadn’t seen him since his December visit. Even though she’d asked him to leave that time, she’d thought he’d come again.
Tessa couldn’t believe Mark was a liar. She wanted to believe he’d come to the house that day to see her and for no other reason. But she’d seen him flirting with Susie and it surely was a coincidence he’d picked the day before McSween’s left town.
And then Alex had been arrested, on Dolan’s order, on Christmas Eve. How could Mark have had anything to do with that?
If only she could prevent herself from dreaming about Mark--strange unsettling dreams where he held her in his arms, his hands caressing her until her entire body throbbed with delicious pulsations. Shameful dreams.
For the next week Ezra obeyed her order to keep away from the Tunstall ranch, although he moped sullenly about the house until she longed to shake him. But on the eighteenth, when he didn’t appear for breakfast and when she went to call him, he was gone.
Tess ran back to the west wing and into the kitchen where Jules sat at the scrubbed pine table eating one of Rosalita’s tortillas. As soon as he saw her, he ducked his head.
“Where’s Ezra?’’ she asked.
“He left,” Jules mumbled.
“When?”
“I don’t know. It was still kind of dark.”
“Jules, why didn’t you come and tell me?”
“Ezra said not to. Said I’d be a tattler and no one likes tattletales.” Tessa sighed. “Did he tell you where he was going?” Jules shook his head.
Tessa knew where Ezra had gone. To John’s ranch. I’ll ride after him, she decided. And while I’m there, I’ll see that John understands what the problem is.
If I let Ezra get away with this, I’ll never be able to control him again.
* *
*
Mark swung on his heel and strode away from the men near the corral. Damn it, this stunk worse than a Pecos catfish three days dead. No sheriff in his right mind would deputize Jesse Evans or Buck Morton, even if they were the last men left in the Territory.
Months ago Mark had protested to Dolan when he hired Evans and Morton, but Dolan
had insisted he needed a couple of tough gunslingers for protection. Protection was one thing. This was another.
I’m heading into town to talk to Sheriff Brady, he decided. Dolan, too, if I can locate him. Why isn’t Brady leading this posse? And why so many? Why eighteen when four or five could do the Job? Gunmen, every last one. The real trouble had started on Christmas Eve when McSween was arrested in Las Vegas. Dolan had filed suit against him, saying McSween had embezzled money from an insurance claim. Then, in January, Brady had attached McSween’s cows, and now that posse was heading out to drive in some of Tunstall’s stock, claiming that the two men were partners and so Dolan had the right.
Gunslingers instead of cowboys. Mark mounted his sorrel and urged him into a fast lope. The day was sunny and cool, the snow gone. A gray and white bird called from the bare branches of a cottonwood.
Just before noon he passed the abandoned adobe casita beside a frozen stream that was his mark for the halfway point between Dolan’s spread and Lincoln. In warmer weather he often stopped there to eat and water the horse. The sorrel slowed, remembering, and Mark kneed him on. He topped a rise and quickly reined in.
Below him, on the trail to Tunstall’s ranch, a lone rider trotted. Could be Tunstall. Since December, Mark had no desire to ever meet him again, but, damn it, if the rider was Tunstall, he was going to have to warn him. He had no real grudge against the Englishman, and he’d hate to see any man come up against that crowd Brady had deputized for his posse.
He rode down the hill to intercept the rider. As he drew closer, Mark frowned. It wasn’t Tunstall. In fact, it wasn’t a man. The woman rode astride, wearing men’s pants under her skirts, but that wasn’t as unusual as the fact she was alone. And that was dangerous as hell in this country. She turned her head and caught sight of him.