Rico (The Rock Creek Six Book 3)

by Lori Handeland

  Complete silence blanketed the room as the last note died. Lily held her breath. Had she been the only one enthralled?

  Then the room erupted with applause, stamping feet, and whistles. Her friends jumped up and cheered. Kate and Laurel set down trays filled with drinks to clap and grin. Thank God she had been as good as she’d thought.

  Lily bowed, swept her hand toward Johnny, and hit Rico in the stomach.

  His gut was as hard as his boot, so he didn’t double over. He didn’t even react. For a moment, she wondered why he was there, until he moved past her to stand at the edge of the stage and glare at the men who crowded close, vying for her attention. One snarl from him and they backed away.

  Decorative and functional—how convenient.

  “How did this happen?” she asked.

  Rico’s gaze slid toward her, then back to the crowd. “You’re amazing. What did you think would happen?”

  She’d been told the same thing before, by people who were in the entertainment business. Why did this man’s praise make her feel as if his were the only words that mattered?

  She took his hand, and when he let her, she smiled. “I meant, where did all these people come from? I didn’t think there were this many folks in the entire town.”

  “There aren’t.” His shrug appeared sheepish. “I rode out to the ranches then sent word to the nearest towns. Ranbourne even put an article in their paper. I kept a copy for you. People around here don’t get much chance to enjoy a night like this.”

  “Encore!” The shout swept the room, growing louder as each voice took up the chant. “Encore, Lily, encore.”

  “You did that for me?”

  Something unfathomable flickered in Rico’s eyes. “Haria cualquier cosa para ti,” he whispered, then disappeared behind the stage curtain.

  Lily had no idea what he’d said and no time to ask, even though she wanted to very much.

  In a daze of delight she crossed to the piano. Johnny raised his eyebrow. What did she want to sing?

  “Whatever you like.” She could barely think past the joy and the excitement. The audience settled as she reached for the glass of water atop the piano.

  She took a deep draft to soothe her throat. The taste of vinegar filled her mouth, burned her nose, and made her eyes water. But with the crowd staring at her, she could not spray the noxious liquid all over the floor.

  Carrie, her chin perched on her arms as she leaned on the edge of the stage, smirked; her eyes danced with devilish delight.

  Lily forced herself to swallow. She refused to choke. Instead, she breathed in through her burning nose and out through her tingling mouth until her eyes quit watering. Then she went on with the show, singing even better than before. She enjoyed the disgust on Carrie’s face nearly as much as the applause she received for the encore.

  The night was an unmitigated success. Lily couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to sing without fending off gropers and lifting her voice above hecklers. But with Rico on the stage, and Reese and Sullivan right in front, no one dared touch her, and no one uttered an unkind word.

  After her last song, Rico returned. This time Carrie hopped on the stage and hugged his waist. Johnny went off to find fresh water, and Lily confronted her enemy.

  “I’ve never had water that soothed my throat so well. I could have sung another hour after drinking that.”

  Rico gave her a strange look. “Never heard that our well was so fine; I’m glad you like it.”

  Carrie’s expression revealed every thought in her head. She expected Lily to tattle. But that wasn’t how things were done between worthy adversaries. Instead, Lily winked and moved on. Let the little terror wonder when, or even if, Lily would strike next and how. That’s how things were done between women.

  “I’ll just say good night to Eden and Mary,” Lily said.

  “I’ll put Carrie to bed and be right back down.”

  “I wanna play poker. Johnny taught me how to kick some ass in cards.”

  Rico put his hand to his forehead and rubbed. “Carrie, you’ve got to stop cursing.”

  “What did I say?”

  “We’ll discuss it upstairs.” He pulled her steadily away, even as she hung back.

  “Aw, sh—”

  “Hey!” Rico snapped.

  “Shucks,” she finished.

  A half hour later, Lily said good-bye to the last well-wisher and slipped toward her dressing room for a drink of real water and a moment of pure silence before she joined one of the games and dealt poker far into the night.

  Lily kicked off her ivory slippers. After reclining on one chair, she propped her feet on another. Tentatively, she sipped the glass of water on the table, found it uncontaminated, and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes for just a minute.

  Footfalls in the hallway were followed by the swish of the curtain across her door. She’d figured Rico would find her once he made certain Carrie was asleep. “I’ll be right out,” she murmured.

  “What’s your name, pretty lady, and when the hell did you come to town?”

  Her eyes flew open. She had never seen the man who filled the doorway. She would remember someone that tall and wide and... and... scruffy. There was no other word for it.

  Beneath all that hair and beard he might be handsome. Maybe. She wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

  Lily came slowly to her feet, careful not to make any sudden moves. This man looked as if he’d just ridden out of the wilderness after living there most of his life.

  “Who are you?” she asked, stalling.

  “I asked you first.” He stepped inside, making the room grow smaller because of his size, seeming to steal the air.

  “I’m Lily.” Her thumb brushed her thigh, where the derringer lay. Damn thing was useless unless this man gave her time to lift her skirt and yank it free. While lifting her skirt might be just what he had in mind, she didn’t think she’d oblige.

  “Lily,” he repeated. “Nice name.”

  “Glad you like it.” She stepped sideways as he advanced, hoping to work her way toward the door and escape, though in her experience, if he’d meant to grab her, he would have already. Still the mere size of the man made Lily nervous. She prepared to ruin an exquisite set of gloves with her knife.

  “I think I like you.”

  He took one giant step in her direction, and Lily twisted her wrist. The knife shot through the material and filled her hand with steel. She waved the knife back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah. Go away like a good boy.”

  When he didn’t, Lily’s unease spread. She didn’t think her blade would do much damage to that body unless she stuck him just right, and she didn’t believe she had it in her to kill him—at least not for this.

  “But I’m not a good boy.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of the knife?”

  “That’s not a knife.”

  A whoosh sliced the air, and a Bowie knife stuck in the floor between the man’s boots. He lowered his gaze to the waving handle then raised his eyes to hers. “That’s a knife.” He didn’t even look toward the door. “Hello, Kid. I should have known she was yours.”

  Rico stepped between Lily and the stranger, who obviously wasn’t a stranger to him. Just having Rico near made Lily’s heart stop thundering—at least in fear.

  Rico pulled his blade from the floor then pointed the handle at the man. “You better get out of here before I take better aim next time.”

  “You missed on purpose?” Lily asked.

  “I never miss.”

  “With a knife,” the fellow muttered.

  “What else is there, amigo?”

  The two of them grinned like fools then slapped each other on the back. “Welcome home, Jed.” Rico turned to Lily. “This is Eden’s brother, Jedidiah Rourke.”

  “Eden’s brother?” She couldn’t reconcile this overgrown bear of a man with the sweet and dainty Eden.

  Jed scratched his beard and looked embarrassed. She almost
expected him to shuffle his feet and say, “Aw, shucks.”

  “I... uh... hope I didn’t scare you. I was just foolin’.”

  “Lily does not scare that easy.”

  “Were you gonna stick me with that hairpin?” Jed indicated the knife she still held in her hand.

  Lily scowled at her shredded glove. “I still might. You owe me a pair of gloves, Mr. Rourke.”

  “Just Jed, and you’re right. I’ll take care of that as soon as I get to a town where they make ‘em.”

  “Things have changed,” Rico said. “You can now buy gloves in Rock Creek. Kate and Laurel turned out to be seamstresses.”

  “I bet Cash loves that.”

  “He’s gone.” Lily spread her hands. “He wasn’t too happy when I turned up owning the saloon.”

  “Bet not. Did he threaten to shoot you?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  Jed glanced at Rico. “Nate?”

  “Gone with Cash.”

  “Where?”

  “Last we heard, Fort Worth. I’m sure if they move on we’ll hear something else soon.”

  “We always do. Where can a thirsty man get a drink?”

  Since the man was Eden’s brother, he couldn’t be all bad, so Lily unbuckled her knife, tossed it onto the table, and led the way to the bar.

  People greeted Jed. He’d obviously been here in the past and was well liked. When Yvonne hurried to place a bottle and glass on the bar before Jed even got there, Lily decided to give him a second chance. Her own second chance was going so well.

  “On the house,” she murmured to Yvonne. The two men were so engrossed in their discussion, they didn't notice when she slipped away to deal poker until midnight and beyond.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe this place.” Jed sipped his second whiskey. “It’s so...”

  “Clean?” Rico murmured, gaze on Lily.

  She was taking her table for all that they had, and even as each man lost, he laughed and begged to be taken some more.

  “I was going to say full.”

  “It’s amazing what clearing out the dirt, patching up the bullet holes, and lighting a few lamps will do for a place.”

  “Not to mention the addition of a beautiful woman wearing a revealing dress and dealing poker.”

  Rico switched his gaze to Jed. “You ought to hear her sing. You’ll forget all about her dress.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Why don’t you try?”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t poach. Though she seems a little old for you—or maybe she’s just mature.”

  “She isn’t anything to me except my boss.”

  “How did that happen? You needed money you could have come and helped me with that small-time silver-mine skirmish in Nevada. Could have even used your help when I hired my gun to that Mexican village just past the border. Hell, if you were desperate, you could have gone with Nate and Cash.”

  “Not anymore. Carrie is living with me now.”

  “What happened to Brown?”

  “Dead.” Before Jed could accuse him of the crime, Rico held up his hand. “He dropped dead while having a screaming fit. You know how he was.”

  Everyone in Rock Creek knew how Brown was.

  “Bound to happen sooner or later with that man’s temper. Things sure have changed while I’ve been away. You’re workin’ for a woman, and all the other boys are either married or off tryin’ to die. Maybe I should stick around a while.”

  “I know you, Jed. Your idea of a while is a week. You can’t stay in one place for long before your feet are itching to be in another.”

  “I like new places, just like you like new women.” He raised a brow at Lily. “Or at least you used to.”

  “I like women.” Rico sipped his drink and thought about that. “Perhaps because they like me. I know most enjoy my face or have heard of my skills.”

  “Is that what they call it these days?”

  “No matter how many women I bed, the need for another and another has never left me.”

  His eyes went to Lily. Until now.

  From the moment Rico had first been touched, kissed, and loved by a female, he had worked at the craft of pleasing them. Women were so soft, so sweet smelling, and when they held him in their arms in the darkest of the night, he felt as if he were special, at least for that bit of time.

  So he’d developed two exceptional skills—wielding a knife and wielding... something else. One had kept him alive, the other had made his life worth living.

  Or had it? Had he ever felt needed or loved for himself?

  “You’ve got a restless...” Jed glanced first at Rico’s new black trousers, then at his face. “Heart,” he finished. “Like I got restless feet.”

  “What’s the cure?”

  “Not sure.” Lily’s laughter trilled through the room, drawing the attention of every man. “Maybe the right woman would do it for us both.”

  “How do you know who the right woman is?”

  “Unfortunately, I think the right woman is a myth. At least for men like us.”

  What a cheery thought. Rico didn’t buy it. Reese had been the most haunted man Rico had ever seen. Not that he was a carnival clown now, but when Reese looked at Mary or Georgie, the love in his eyes outshone the shadows.

  Sullivan was the same. The only place he’d ever belonged had been riding with the five men who had never cared if he was white, red, purple, or green. These days Sullivan belonged to Rock Creek almost as deeply as he belonged to Eden and their four children.

  Jed moved off to drink with some men from an outlying ranch where the six had bought horses in the past, leaving Rico alone with his deep, deep thoughts.

  Would touching Lily erase the eternal restlessness in his soul? Did he want the kind of life Reese and Sullivan had? Or should he embrace the wandering existence of Jed, if not the doomed fate of Nate and Cash? Instead of drifting through life, finding momentary satisfaction with woman after woman, might touching the right woman save him from himself?

  Rico finished his drink and crossed the room. He put his hand on Lily’s shoulder. When she reached up without even looking at him and covered his fingers with her own, the funny dance his stomach had been doing since the first time he kissed her turned into an all-out jig.

  If she wasn’t the right woman, Rico didn’t know who was. The trick would be convincing Lily of that.

  Chapter 12

  Three Queens closed at two a.m. Lily sent everyone to bed. Since tomorrow—make that today—was Sunday and the place would be shut until evening, any clean up could wait until they slept.

  Lily began to blow out the lights. Funny, she wasn’t tired at all.

  Leaving just a few lamps burning, she climbed on the stage and contemplated the empty room, remembering again what it had felt like in the center of the storm of adulation.

  To her mother, only men had mattered, one after the other. As a child, Lily had been starved for attention. Later, when she’d started to attract interest for her body and her face, she had enjoyed it until she’d realized just how fleeting regard based on appearance could be. But the appreciation she received because of her talent—devotion based on a worthwhile ability—was something that lasted. She’d quickly come to need the applause as much as she needed a place to live and food to eat.

  Though Lily knew better than to dream, for a moment she did anyway, and the dream was beautiful. Three Queens became everything she’d ever hoped to have—a prosperous business, a place to call home, a safe haven forever.

  “Ba, ba, da, da...” Lily hummed to herself and began to waltz, swaying to imaginary music, twirling the full skirt of her new dress like a child. Faster and faster, around and around, until she became dizzy and began to laugh.

  “You should laugh more often.”

  Lily stopped, but her head kept spinning, and when she stumbled a few steps, strong hands steadied, her. The scent of summer wind and spring water calmed her thundering heart.
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  “Rico!” She should have known. No one could sneak like him, except maybe Carrie. Lily wondered what the little imp had planned for her next. She had a lovely surprise in store for the child.

  Even though the world had stopped tilting, Rico did not let go. His hands gentled on her arms, and his thumbs stroked her skin. He knew exactly where to touch, how hard or how soft, and how long. Lily held very still lest any movement make him release her. She didn’t want to be. Not yet. Instead, she stared into his dark eyes, which so often sparkled, even as deep down they cried.

  “You should dance more often as well, Lilita.”

  The foreign twist at the end of her name rolled like water down a cliff. Her stomach fell just as far when he drew her closer than would ever be acceptable in polite society. But Lily had never lived in polite society, and if Rico had, those days were long past.

  He nuzzled her hair. “Sing,” he whispered. “Something low and sad, for me.”

  It wasn’t easy to sing acappella, and Lily hadn’t done it since her last street corner, but she managed. Soft and sweet, the words of “My Old Kentucky Home” slid past her lips and swirled around them. Together they moved, body to body, the skim of clothes against limbs another dance altogether, an erotic slip and slide that excited Lily in ways she’d never imagined.

  When the last notes of the song died away, Rico quit moving. He continued to hold her, the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek as soothing as the brush of lips on the top of her head, both a stark contrast to the evidence of his desire that he did nothing to hide.

  “You were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen tonight.”

  Lily stifled her disappointment. She would think that a man like him, whom everyone saw as mere decoration, would know how little beauty mattered in the scheme of life.

  “The way your eyes lit up with each song, the way your mouth formed the words—your voice gave them meaning as your body swayed to the music. I could listen to you sing for the rest of my life and never get tired. You’ve got a gift for certain, and that gift is beautiful.”