Rico (The Rock Creek Six Book 3)

by Lori Handeland

  “Whoa!” Rico held up his hands. “You cannot pull a gun on the sheriff, and you especially cannot pull a gun on Cash.”

  “I’m not letting any hickish lawman take my place and give it to his pal.”

  “That will not happen.”

  “You bet it won’t.”

  Lily held out her hand, and Johnny gave her the tiny gun she’d bought just across the border. Sometimes a knife simply wasn’t enough. She tucked the pistol into the palm of the hand that did not carry a secreted knife.

  “No guns, por favor.” Rico looked into her eyes beseechingly. “They will only make things worse.”

  Lily hesitated. Rico seemed sincere, but most men—especially pretty ones—could get their way with the turn of an eyelash. Still, he ought to know his friends and this town. She was in the right, no matter the fame of any gunman.

  With a shrug, she returned the gun to Johnny. He was better with it, anyway.

  Cash returned, accompanied by a tall, dark-haired fellow who looked to be half something or other—in this state, most likely Comanche. She didn’t care who his daddy was as long as the son was honest.

  “Got a problem here, Kid?” he asked.

  Lily glanced at Johnny, who shrugged. “My brother doesn’t speak,” she said. “Besides, I’m the one with the deed.” She waved it like a flag.

  “I was talkin’ to Rico, ma’am. We’ve been together since he was a kid.”

  Lily’s gaze wandered all the way up Rico’s six-foot-odd-inch frame. He didn’t resemble any kid she’d ever seen.

  “Hard habit to break,” the sheriff continued. “Your boy can’t talk?”

  She sent a warning look in Johnny’s direction before answering the sheriff. “My brother, and he doesn’t speak since the war.”

  “Shame. Had the same problem with one of my own children, but he came out of it after being safe here for a while. Maybe that’ll happen for your brother, too.”

  “Maybe. But Johnny has talents beyond speech, Sheriff, which you’ll discover when I get this place ready to open.”

  “It is open,” Cash snapped.

  “It’s also filthy, smelly, dark, and disgusting.”

  “That’s the way we like it.”

  “Then you can leave.”

  “I live here!”

  “Fine. Live here. But it’ll cost you.”

  “I hate to interrupt,” the sheriff said. “But could I see that deed?”

  Lily handed over the parchment then cast a glance at Johnny. He nodded. He'd trained the small gun in his pocket on Sheriff Sullivan. The man thought he was going to torch her deed? He would have to think again—in hell.

  The sheriff returned the document, expression solemn. “Looks fine to me.” He cut a gaze to Johnny. “Don’t ever hold a gun on a lawman, son, even if your sister tells you to. Next time, I’ll be obliged to take it.”

  A healthy dose of respect came over Lily for this hickish sheriff. Johnny removed his hand from his pocket, empty palm visible.

  “Sorry, Cash.” The sheriff dipped his head at his friend and headed for the door.

  “That’s it?” Cash shouted, following him. “What kind of lawman are you? What kind of friend? What kind of brother-in-arms?”

  Sullivan faced the shorter man. “If you have to ask me that, then you haven’t been paying attention for the past ten years. She’s in the right. Ain’t nothin’ to be done about it, hear?”

  “That sounds like a threat, breed.”

  Rico tensed, and Lily cast him a quick glance. His jaw was set as he stared intently at the two men. Did they plan to splash blood all over the wood floor? That would be a lot harder to scrub out than the dirt.

  Surreptitiously, she pulled Johnny out of the line of fire, but instead of moving behind her, as she wanted, he stepped in front, and no amount of tugging would dislodge him.

  “I don’t threaten, Cash. We came to this town to make things right, and I don’t aim to let you mess that up, whatever problem you have with women. You don’t want to fight me; you’re just mad at the world and always have been. One of these days you’ll have to get over it or take it to the grave.” Sullivan turned his back on Cash.

  Either the sheriff trusted the man implicitly, or he was much dumber than he looked. But he left alive, and Rico released a long sigh.

  Silence descended. Lily felt gracious in victory. “You can keep your room,” she said. “Either pitch in and help clean in lieu of rent, or we’ll work out a reasonable rate.”

  Rico choked.

  “What did I say?”

  “Cash doesn’t do work that might make him sweat.”

  “I see.” She glanced at Cash’s perfect clothes and well-maintained hands. She should have noticed the latter right off. “Fine, I can use money, too. What about you, Mr. Salvatore?”

  “I have no problem with sweat, senorita.” He winked. “You can count on me.”

  Somehow, Lily doubted that.

  Chapter 3

  “Why don’t you give her a chance, Cash?” Rico watched the gunman shove clothes into a bag. “She might make the place better.”

  Not half an hour had passed since Lily Fortier had gotten off the stage and already Cash was leaving.

  “It’s perfect the way it is.”

  “What could a clean floor hurt? And you must admit, when the cards stick to the table, it is very hard to play poker.”

  Cash hesitated, one of his fancy ruffled shirts in hand. “True.”

  “She seems to know her way around a saloon.”

  She knew how to move, too. Lily Fortier had a grace to her walk that was nearly a dance. When she talked, using her slim, long-fingered hands, Rico went breathless with desire. He’d had to stop watching her and flee upstairs before he disgraced himself and begged for just one kiss.

  Cash was looking at him as if he knew exactly what Rico was thinking, and it disgusted him. Cash should talk. He shared women with Nate. Well, not at the same time, even Cash had standards.

  Before Cash got snide and lippy, his specialty, Rico hurried on. “She might bring in better liquor, even more women. Maybe French women? I think she’s from Louisiana.” If she wasn’t, she was giving a very good impression of women Rico had known there.

  Cash’s eyes brightened as much as dead eyes could. “You think?”

  “Why don’t you wait and see? Besides, Nate is in no condition to travel.”

  Nate Lang was passed out on the bed. Why he’d come to Cash’s room while they were downstairs was a mystery that would not be solved until he woke up, if then. Since he hadn’t even twitched while they talked, he’d probably be asleep for several hours yet.

  Cash sat next to Nate, who reacted not at all. Rico was just glad to see his friend stop packing. Whenever Cash left Rock Creek, he added a new tale of death and destruction to his steadily growing reputation. One of these days Cash would not return, and if Nate kept following him about, watching his back, he wouldn’t, either. That would cut the six down to four. Rico had seen enough people he loved die. He had no desire to see any more.

  “He’s getting worse,” Cash said.

  “Since Jo Clancy left Rock Creek, no one can reach him.”

  “That little girl had nothin’ on Nate. He might be a drunk, but he’s not a fool.”

  Rico didn’t argue, but something had been going on with Nate and Jo. He wasn’t sure what, but as soon as she left town, Nate’s drinking had gotten worse, which, with Nate, was saying quite a lot.

  “He could use some action,” Cash said. “At least with El Diablo running loose he had to be near sober to hit the broad side of a barn.”

  “Nate could hit the knothole on a barn board at twenty paces after drinking every one of us under the table.”

  “I know.” Cash sighed. “And I think we’re going to have to do something about it pretty soon.”

  Dark stubble, liberally sprinkled with gray, covered Nate’s jaw and his head. He needed a shave. Would his hands be steady enough to do the jo
b this time, or would Laurel be enlisted to help again? For some reason, the girls found Nate’s shaved head enticing.

  Every one of the men had talked to Nate, tried to find out why he drank, if not how to make him stop. But they all had their secrets from the time before they rode together, and while some of them had shared their pasts, Nate spoke of the days when he’d been a preacher to no one.

  “I can’t believe Eden lets him help out at the hotel and with the children,” Cash said. “But we are talking about Eden.”

  Even though most good women set Cash’s teeth on edge, Eden Rourke Sullivan touched a part of him no one else could. While he tolerated Mary, Reese’s wife, he truly liked Eden, and Rico couldn’t figure out why. Sure, she was sweeter than melted sugar, but that usually brought out the worst in Daniel Cash.

  “The children like Nate. He tells them stories, plays games, rolls around on the floor and wrestles.”

  “That’s because the floor is an old and dear friend to him.”

  “Nate would never let anything happen to one of the bebes, and he would never let anything happen to one of us, either.”

  “Why do you think I let him come along with me all the time?”

  Cash tossed his partially packed bag into the corner, and Rico let out a sigh of relief. Cash would be here a while longer. Every day Cash remained in town was another day he stayed alive. None of the gunfighters eager to make their reputations off his would dare venture into Rock Creek, where all six men lived.

  “Did you ever wonder what he would be like if he did not drink?” Rico asked.

  “What’s the point? That would be like wondering what you would be like if you didn’t love women more than breathing. Or wondering what Reese would be like if he were a coward and not a leader.”

  “Or what Sullivan would be like if he could not follow a bad man over rocky ground. Or perhaps what you would be like if—”

  “Watch it.”

  “If you were not such a smart aleck.”

  Cash’s mustache twitched. “Same goes, Kid, same goes.”

  * * *

  Nate Lang heard every word. He could pretend to sleep just as he could pretend to be drunk or sober as the occasion warranted.

  Sounded like the true owner of the saloon they’d taken as theirs had shown up—and it was a beautiful woman. That should get Cash’s goat and liven this place up a bit.

  Rico seemed to like her, which wasn’t surprising, since she wore a skirt. But the Kid hadn’t had a woman in this town, ever, because of the little girl who adored him. When Rico needed release, he went to Ranbourne for a few days. He might be a womanizing pretty boy, but he loved that little girl as if she were his own, or at least his baby sister.

  Nate had come into Cash’s room because Kate was hogging the bed again. She was a sweet enough gal, and she never expected more than Nate had to give, but while he often needed a warm body next to his in order to fall asleep, when he awoke, he needed just as badly to be left alone.

  Because when he awoke he was usually far too sober, yet exhausted enough to crave more sleep. When he wasn’t passed out drunk, the nightmares came. Then he’d wake up screaming and thrashing.

  His friends had seen that on occasion, and he’d seen them at their worst, too. No doubt Kate had witnessed more horrible things than his crying like a baby, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to watch.

  The only other person who had seen him break down was Jo. Nate shuddered at the memory.

  “Looks like he’s wakin’ up,” Cash said.

  Nate forced a soft snore.

  “Or not,” Rico murmured.

  “If he starts shaking, I’m going to need your help.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  “Maybe Reese, too.”

  Nate hated when Reese saw him with the shakes. Their former captain never said an unkind word, but in his eyes Nate always saw guilt and sadness, as if Reese had failed him somehow. And that just wasn’t so. Nate had failed himself.

  Why should Nate be any different than God?

  He refused to dwell on the emptiness he tried to fill with liquor—that emptiness where God had been but was no longer. Because there was no God.

  How much would he have to drink today to forget that everything he’d ever believed in was a lie?

  * * *

  “Take our things upstairs and see if you can find some empty rooms.” Lily handed Johnny her bag. He hesitated. “I’ll be fine. I think we already met the worst of the lot.”

  A twist of his mouth and a quirk of his eyebrow showed Johnny’s opinion of that.

  Calling him Johnny for several weeks in the close quarters of a stage from New Orleans to Dallas to Rock Creek had turned Jean Baptiste into Johnny for her. Once in a while, if she was tired or distracted, she formed the French-sounding J of Jean Baptiste, but as of yet, she had never let his real name tumble free. At least she didn’t have to worry that Johnny might utter her real name.

  She liked being Lily Fortier. New name, new place, new life, new woman. Lily performed a slow twirl in the middle of her floor. She was going to wrestle this place into something wonderful.

  “Ma’am?”

  The soft word made Lily freeze in mid-twirl. She’d forgotten the bartender, Yvonne. The woman must think her crazy to be dancing amid the dust and spiders.

  Lily gave her a sheepish smile. “I’ve never had a place of my own before.”

  “Me, neither.” Yvonne’s eyes went dreamy. “I bet it feels like nothing else.”

  “Nothing,” Lily agreed. “Is there something you wanted?”

  “I just wondered if you’d give me to the end of the week before you make me leave. Maybe I can find another job by then.”

  Though Yvonne held her head high, her voice quavered on the last word.

  “Who said anything about your leaving?”

  Hope lit Yvonne’s pale blue eyes, though wariness still hovered at the edges. “You’d keep me on?”

  “Cash doesn’t strike me as a charity-driven soul, so you must be good at your job. Even though this place is filthy, the bar is spotless, the mirror, too, and those bottles sparkle.”

  The pleased smile that pulled at Yvonne’s lips negated her shrug. “I do my best. Cash didn’t want me touching anything but the bar.”

  “Oh, I imagine he wanted you touching something other than the bar. That you didn’t only impresses me more.”

  “I’m not that kind of woman. Yet, anyway. But I’m alone in this world, and I don’t have much left to sell but myself.”

  “We do what we have to do. How much was Cash paying you?” Yvonne named a figure that had Lily gaping. “A generous man.”

  “He was trying to work his way into my bed. I figured if he was too dumb to hear no, I’d just take his money as long as he was offering.”

  “I’d do the same. Unfortunately, I’m short on funds until I get this place going. But I have a proposition.”

  “What kind?”

  Yvonne had obviously had a hard life and trusted few people. Even now, wariness filled her eyes.

  “I’m a singer. I know entertainment. I know people. I know cards. What I don’t know is Rock Creek or how to stock and manage a bar.”

  “I do.”

  “Exactly. You want to be my partner?”

  Yvonne’s eyes widened. “Partner?”

  “We’ll work out the details later. Primarily, I’ll sing, and you’ll run the bar. You don’t tell me how to hit high ‘C,’ and I won’t tell you how much whiskey to buy. Deal?”

  Yvonne stared at Lily’s hand as if there might be something hidden there. Well, there was a knife up her sleeve, but Yvonne didn’t know that. Rico did only because he couldn’t keep his beautiful, dark, and no doubt clever hands to himself.

  Lily frowned at the direction of her thoughts, and Yvonne, who must have thought that Lily meant to change her mind, slapped her palm firmly against Lily’s.

  “Deal,” she said, and pumped Lily’s hand once.
r />   “What kind of deal?” an annoyingly high-pitched voice screeched from above.

  Yvonne rolled her eyes. “Meet your new boss, Laurel.”

  “Cash! Where are you?” The girl sped out of view.

  “Who was that?” Lily asked.

  “One of the two soiled doves left in Rock Creek. The other is Kate.”

  “You don’t seem to like them much.”

  “I have no opinion one way or another.”

  “Sure you do. One of your jobs is to tell me about everyone, especially people who work for us.”

  “All right,” Yvonne agreed, though she didn’t look happy about it. “I don’t care what women do to get by. Like you said, you do what you have to do. But those two are just plain dumb and annoying as all get-out. ‘Cash, let me touch your pretty gun. Nate, let me help you shave.’ “ Yvonne’s falsetto voice and rapidly batting eyelashes made Lily smile. “I don’t think they have one working brain between them.”

  “Which is how they ended up doing what they do.”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe, with a little help, they could become less annoying.”

  “Doubt it.”

  “If we teach them a different job they won’t have to do this one.”

  “Cash isn’t going to like that.”

  “Which means I’m going to like it a whole lot.”

  “You’re going to tell Daniel Cash there aren’t any women for sale in this place?”

  “The girls will have to make that choice on their own. Once they do, they’ll tell him.”

  “You are a dreamer, aren’t you?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  A shadow passed over Yvonne’s face, then settled in to haunt her eyes. “Not anymore.”

  Lily wanted to ask about Yvonne’s dreams, or lack of them, but even though she felt a connection to the woman, they’d only known each other an hour, and she had no right.

  “Before Laurel comes back, tell me about Cash and Rico, that sheriff, and who’s Nate?”

  “I don’t think I’ll have time.”

  “Be quick, then, but I need to know who I’m dealing with.”

  So Yvonne told Lily all that she knew, quickly. Her story not only explained why Grubby Texas had left town, never planning to come back, but why he’d been so eager to lose the saloon. The coward no doubt thought Rock Creek had been left a pile of burning buildings and dead bodies.