“What the hell?” he yelped.
“D-d-d-don't you be touchin' the lady,” Bud said. “Not less'n she says so.”
“Put me down!”
Obediently, Bud put Levander down.
“Doanie, Hogg, come get Bud so's I can take care of this bitch,” Levander ordered.
“You oughn't to be callin' her names,” Stick said. “Ain't nice to call a teacher names.”
“Doanie! Hogg!” But the two of them stayed rooted where they were, their hats clutched to their chests. Levander threw his hands up in the air and stomped over to the filthy, much-rumpled lower bunk bed on one wall and plopped down. “You wait'll the Boss gets in here,” he muttered. “You won't be so high 'n' mighty then.”
“Deputy Joe is your boss?” Miss Devlin exclaimed.
Levander crossed his arms behind his head and his feet at the ankles and grinned, exposing a newly broken front tooth. “Sure is. Brains behind the whole operation.”
“What operation?” Miss Devlin asked.
Levander smiled smugly. “That's for me to know and you to find out.”
Miss Devlin didn't waste any time. She turned to Stick and said, “What's your business with Deputy Joe?”
“We rustle the cattle and Deputy Joe sells 'em and gives us our share of the money,” Stick dutifully replied.
“You're the gang of rustlers Mr. Kerrigan has been chasing?” Miss Devlin asked incredulously, her glance skipping from one to the other of the simpleminded men.
“Guess we are,” Doanie admitted. “Ma'am,” he added as an afterthought.
“Yessir, we are,” Hogg agreed. “Ma'am,” he added as an afterthought.
“C-c-c-course we also cut them nester fences,” Bud volunteered. “But not till Levander said it was okay.”
Miss Devlin hadn't been a teacher all those years for nothing. She recognized stupidity when she saw it. It seemed to her, however, that while these men were outlaws, they were not necessarily violent men. She spied Levander's cruel smile and amended, at least not all of them. Bud, Hogg, Doanie, and Stick were too ignorant to realize how they were being manipulated.
Miss Devlin took a deep breath and nearly gagged. “Well, gentlemen,” she said after a fit of coughing. “It appears we have some straightening up to do to make this place habitable.”
Miss Devlin had picked up a bowl caked with some sort of dried-up food when Deputy Joe came stalking in the door. It was amazing the change that came over Bud, Hogg, Doanie, and Stick. She could feel the electricity in the room, and their immediate fawning deference to the man whom they called Boss. How had ineffectual, innocuous Deputy Joe put the fear of God into these four men? She glanced at Levander and amended, five men.
“I want you boys to keep an eye on Miss Devlin,” Deputy Joe said. “I don't want her to leave this place. If you see anybody come nosin' around here, shoot first and ask questions later. You understand?”
Four heads nodded.
“You understand what I'm saying, Levander?” Deputy Joe said.
“Yeah, Boss. I understand fine.”
“We got a little hitch in our plan 'cause of the weather,” Deputy Joe said. “Kerrigan ain't goin' nowhere till this blizzard blows on through. So y'all might as well get comfortable.”
Miss Devlin saw no way the seven of them could be comfortable in the cramped space available—even if it had been clean, which it wasn't. The potbellied stove was belching smoke, which made it hard to breathe, even when the stench didn't.
“May I suggest,” Miss Devlin said, “that we might all have a little more room if we moved some of the debris outside?”
“You can do whatever you like, long as you don't go nowheres,” Deputy Joe said. “I can't stay myself. I gotta get back to town.”
Miss Devlin reached out and put a hand on the deputy's sleeve. “You can't be going back out into this weather.”
“What I do ain't none of your business,” Deputy Joe said.
“You're going to freeze to death out there. You'll never find your way back,” Miss Devlin warned.
“The mule I'm ridin' knows the way back to town.”
“You're crazy!” Miss Devlin said.
As soon as she made the statement, she knew it was a mistake. Because it was clear as a lily pond before the splash that Deputy Joe was crazy to be leader of this particular fuddle-brained band of outlaws.
“Levander, get this bitch away from me, before I shoot her where she stands,” Deputy Joe snarled, his hand already on the butt of his .45.
An instant later Miss Devlin's arm had been twisted painfully behind her back and she had been dragged across the room and thrown down on one of the bunks. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Although the four half-wits were agitated by what Levander was doing, none of them made a move to defy him in the presence of the Boss. Levander took full advantage of the opportunity to hurt Miss Devlin as much as he could.
Deputy Joe gave one last severe look around the room and threatened, “Don't none of you forget what I said. That schoolteacher better be here when I get back.” He turned and left.
As soon as he was out the door, Miss Devlin jumped up off the bunk. “Are you going to let him leave?” she demanded. “He's never going to make it back to town.”
Hogg and Doanie shrugged.
“C-c-c-can't tell the Boss what to do. He don't like it,” Bud said.
“You ain't gonna tell no one here what to do neither,” Levander said, advancing toward her threateningly.
Once again, before he could reach her, Bud intercepted him, gently lifting him right off the ground. “T-t-t-told you. Don't touch her less'n she asks.”
Levander scowled and yearningly eyed the shotgun standing in the corner. One look at the faces of Doanie and Hogg and Stick convinced him that killing Bud wouldn't help. When Bud finally set him down, Levander retreated to one of the bunks to sulk.
“Well, shall we take the deputy's advice about making ourselves comfortable?” Miss Devlin asked.
Five blank faces stared back at her.
Miss Devlin sighed and shoved her sleeves up over her forearms. “Gentlemen, we have work to do. Who would like to clean the dirty dishes off the table
Levander grunted disgustedly before he rolled over with his back to her and pulled his hat down over his face.
Four blank faces stared back at her.
Miss Devlin was a very good teacher. She understood how to deal with blank faces. “Let's see now. How shall we begin?”
Deputy Joe yanked on the mule's mouth, trying to get the animal to turn around. The dumb ass kept insisting on turning his tail to the wind, and Joe knew for a fact that that was the opposite direction from town. After all, the wind had been at their backs coming out of town, it ought to be in their faces now. The road had completely disappeared, and there weren't any landmarks the deputy recognized. If somebody asked him where he was, he would've had to admit he was lost. Except he had this mule. And this mule knew its way back to town. If the fool animal would only turn his head back into the wind.
The trip back to town seemed to be taking even longer than the ride out to the line shack with Miss Devlin, but Joe took advantage of the time to gloat.
He had outwitted them all.
They all thought Deputy Joe was nothing. They had dismissed him as a coward. He had seen it in their eyes. He had heard it in their voices. But he had shown them all. He had created havoc with their lives and they had never even suspected him.
If it hadn't been for Kerrigan, he would still be leading them all around like a herd of bulls with rings in their noses. Deputy Joe had called the shots until that gun-slinger came along and spoiled things. Now Kerrigan was going to pay for that mistake.
Deputy Joe put a gloved
hand against his left ear, then switched it to the right one. His ears felt brittle, like if he touched them too hard they would fall off. His hands and feet felt heavy, like blocks of ice. He looked around. Nothing familiar at all. Damn this mule! He kicked the beast with the big-roweled Mexican spurs he had won off Levander in a game of five-card stud.
The mule took exception and crowhopped a couple of times. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been enough to unseat Joe, but he couldn't get a grip with his frozen knees, and he couldn't hold on with his frozen hands, and his frozen feet slipped right out of the stirrups. The next thing he knew, he was sitting on his ass in the snow, and that stupid mule was running off in the opposite direction from town.
There wasn't much chance he was going to catch that mule, and he sure wasn't going to start walking in the wrong direction. He shoved himself up off the ground and headed into the wind. He had to get back to town. His whole plan for revenge against Kerrigan depended on his getting back to his bed in the jail before the day ended, so no one would suspect he could possibly be responsible for abducting Miss Devlin.
Then he would lure Kerrigan out to the boarded-up line shack and ambush the gunslinger when he rode up to it—he had the spot picked out—and then he would give Miss Devlin the time of her life before he shot her dead, too. He had it all planned. And it would work. He was pretty smart, ole Deputy Joe.
But damn, he was cold! And tired. He needed to sit down for a minute and rest. Then he would finish walking into town. He had it all planned. He would show them all. Imagine Miss Devlin calling him crazy. Deputy Joe was crazy all right. Crazy like a fox.
Deputy Joe heard the jingle of bells on a harness. It was a sweet sound, but it seemed to come and go. He put his hands to his ears. Maybe if they were warmer, he could hear better. When he covered his ears, the sound went away completely. Deputy Joe closed his eyes and concentrated, listening for the bells. There they were. They were headed right for him.
The snow was cold. The wind was bitter. But he would have his revenge. Wait and see if he didn't.
Chapter 20
If you wake up feelin' halfway 'tween
“Oh, Lord,” and “My God,” you've overdid it.
THE BLIZZARD OF THE NIGHT PAST HAD BLOWN ON through to the south, leaving behind it yet another batch of gray snow clouds to defeat the sunrise. Yet there was nothing dreary about the beginning of Bliss's day, because she awoke in Hadley's arms.
“G'mornin',” she murmured, stretching against his lanky frame.
Hadley groaned deep in his throat and grabbed Bliss to keep her from rubbing her naked breasts and belly up against him. “Lord, Bliss. Don't do that!”
“Why not?” Her lower lip, already swollen from an entire night of kissing, stuck out in a pout.
“'Cause you're gonna kill me if you
keep this up,” he said with a playful growl. “This?” Bliss said, seizing the part of Hadley that was making a tent out of the sheets.
Hadley let out a yelp of surprise, but being a glutton for punishment, he let Bliss cup what she could hold of him in her hands.
“I smell coffee,” Bliss murmured, sniffing the air before she stuck her nose up behind Hadley's ear. “That means it's time to get up.”
Hadley smirked. “I've been ‘up' all night, and it's your fault, you vixen.”
Bliss laughed, a tingling, bell-like sound that reverberated off the high ceiling in Hadley's spartan bedroom on the second floor of the Westbrook home.
“Shhh! You're gonna wake up my mother and father,” Hadley“They're clear at the other end of the hall,” Bliss protested.
“That doesn't mean you can make all the noise you want.”
“Then you better do something to keep me quiet,” Bliss threatened. “'Cause if you don't—”
Hadley took her at her word, covering her mouth with his, and they descended back into the well of pleasure where they had dwelt the past night. Groaning aloud with pleasure, Hadley never gave another thought to whether he was disturbing his parents.
As it turned out, Oak and Regina were wide awake, the result of a lifetime spent rising with the dawn to begin a hard day's work. But today, Oak had no intention of getting out of bed anytime soon. There were times when the day's work must wait for more important matters.
Regina was lying on her side gazing out at the layer of new-fallen snow that had drifted around her pink gazebo, making it look like a charming decoration on top of an iced cake. Oak was behind her, his head resting on one hand, but he had eyes only for his wife.
“You always surprise me, Regina,” he said as he ran a work-roughened hand down the curve of Regina's back to her waist, and from there over the slope of her buttocks to her thigh.
“Hmmm?”
“Even after thirty-two years together I find you a fascinating woman. And I don't mean just your mind. You know how I admire that. It's . . . it's your body, too.”
“It's seen a few years,” Regina reminded him.
“That only gives it character,” Oak said. “It reminds me of the land, you know, how beautiful it is, all hills and slopes and valleys.” Oak pressed Regina onto her back and traced the shape of her generous breasts. “These are the mountains,” he said.
Regina smiled and indulged him by remaining still.
He outlined her ribs. “These are the ridges.”
Her face sobered as she realized that he worshiped what he touched.
“And these are the gullies,” he said as his teasing fingertips probed the folds of flesh at her waist and belly.
She smiled again, saved by his sense of humor from becoming maudlin.
“And down here . . .” His hand slipped down between her legs. “This is the valley, where the river flows. And the water is sweeter than honey.”
His mouth followed his hands, and his tongue dipped and retreated as he sipped at the fount of life. Oak kissed and nipped and sucked and teased, until he felt Regina's spasms of ecstasy. For a while he lay with his head on her thigh, could breathe easily again and the tension had left her. Then he sat up and leaned over her, bracing himself on his palms, and kissed her, sharing the sweetness of her that was on his lips.
Regina felt her throat closing with emotion. To be loved so much, by such a man, was all any woman could ask of life.
Oak's voice was husky, and he forced himself to meet his wife's love-softened hazel eyes. “I've been dying of thirst these past weeks, Regina. I've missed you.”
“I've missed you, too, Oak. I'm sorry I had to keep you away.” She cleared her throat. “I'm not sorry the conflict got settled before it got started. I couldn't have stood by and watched my husband get killed in a senseless range war. I know all the other women—rancher and nester wives both—felt the same way.”
His lips twisted ruefully. “If Ben Davis was going through a tenth of what you put me through, it's a wonder things went on as long as they did.”
“Don't worry about Ben,” Regina said. “I'm sure Persia is making it up to him. Right now I think it's my turn to touch and taste. I've been thirsty, too, Oak. More than you know.”
She folded him in her arms, loving the weight of him, knowing that when they were through she would only want him again. For a while they were safe from the harsh frontier that lay beyond their door. It wouldn't be long before something else disturbed their hard-won peace. Until that day came, Regina intended to make full use of these precious moments.
Across the valley, as Regina had predicted, Persia Davis was doing her best to make up to Big Ben for the pleasure he had been denied over the past few weeks. In fact, Big Ben was thinking he had never in his life spent an evening like the one he had just been through with his wife.
It had been Persia's idea to spend the night at the Townhouse Hotel. She ha
d pointed out that if they went home with Bevis and Mabel Ives, none of them would have any privacy. Last night, privacy had been at the top of Big Ben's list of Most Important Things in Life.
“When we get the house rebuilt, I want a bed just like this one,” Persia whispered.
“This bed takes up near half the room,” Big Ben protested.
“You're a big man. You need a big bed. It gives you room to express yourself,” Persia said with a seductive grin.
Twin spots of color rose on Big Ben's cheeks. “If you say so,” he mumbled.
It had been strange waking up with no chores to do, no cows to milk, no hay to fork, just his wife snuggled up close to him and holding him like there was no tomorrow.
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