A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

by Harper St. George

  “Will you kiss me, Castillo?” she whispered.

  His breath stopped in his throat and he stared into eyes that widened as if she’d only just realized she’d voiced the request. His heart punched against his chest, trying to make him move toward her, and before he realized it, he was mere inches from her mouth.

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  Why couldn’t he do it? She was right here in front of him. Her plump bottom lip shimmered in the light of the oil lantern. Her tongue darted out again nervously and he wanted to chase it, to suck it into his mouth and learn her taste. His hand stroked the silky skin of her bare arm as his palm moved up to rest on her shoulder. He could feel her delicate bones beneath her flesh, smell her lavender scent, feel the heat from her body as he angled himself closer.

  “One kiss wouldn’t be enough,” he said. It wouldn’t be. He hadn’t really touched her yet, but this longing she created within him wasn’t asking for something so casual as a kiss. It wanted more. All of her. Yet even as he warned her off, he tilted his head, already anticipating the touch of her mouth. Her breath brushed across his chin. “Carolina,” he whispered.

  “Is wanting more so bad?” she whispered back.

  Yes. Very bad. His mind yelled the words, but couldn’t make his body listen to them. He just kept moving toward her, crowding her back against the porch railing. She reached up and grabbed his biceps, her fingers squeezing into him gently.

  His lips touched hers, a soft caress that was more teasing than kiss. It wasn’t nearly enough, but he drew back before he gave in to the temptation to dip his tongue inside her. His breath came as fast as it did after a fight.

  “This is only an agreement.” He said it as much to remind himself as to remind her. If it were only an agreement, then why did it feel like more? “We have no future together. You know that.” Even as he spoke, he couldn’t draw his gaze from her mouth. Her lips were pink and perfect. He knew the bottom one would be lush and soft between his teeth.

  “I know, but I don’t think a future is required for kissing.” The words, or perhaps it was the way he was looking at her, made her blush. It rose from her breasts all the way up her neck to her cheeks.

  His whole body tightened. His mind had gone far past kissing—at least, in the way she meant it. He wanted to kiss her mouth, but he also wanted to dip his tongue into that indentation where her neck met her shoulder, to savor the pink of her nipples, to taste the nectar between her thighs. Somehow, his body had gone far past mild flirtation faster than it ever had before.

  He shifted his hands to the railing at her back and leaned down, afraid that if he held on to her he’d crush her against him and she’d feel how hard he was. “You’re right.” He covered her mouth with his and she sighed against his lips as she opened for him. He traced the wet rim of her lips with his tongue and found her hot and so damn sweet he couldn’t resist pushing further. His tongue delved deeper, brushing hers and sending fingers of pleasure dragging down his spine.

  Shrill laughter rent the night air, dispersing the haze of arousal that held them locked together. Prudence, along with Caroline’s father, approached around the corner, their heels echoing on the wood floor of the veranda. He drew back, gasping for air. Despite his vow not to compromise her, he’d been very close to doing just that. Tanner and Bonham’s voices could still be heard coming from inside.

  He hadn’t even waited for privacy to touch her. Pushing off the railing, he walked in the opposite direction of her aunt and father, and jumped down to the ground, heading off into the darkness to get himself under control.

  * * *

  Castillo disappeared into the inky darkness of the night as soon as he stepped from the ring of light cast by the lantern. The moon was covered by clouds. Caroline’s only clue to his whereabouts was that she could still hear his boots on the packed dirt as he hurried away. Each step matched the nearly frantic beat of her heart. Her lips were warm from his and she still tasted the heady mixture of whiskey and peppermint from his tongue.

  “Caroline?” Aunt Prudie’s concerned voice came from far too close behind her.

  She turned to find her aunt standing just feet away, a puzzled look on her face that told Caroline she’d almost certainly missed something the woman had said. Caroline’s father was coming up behind Aunt Prudie, his gaze narrowed in the direction in which Castillo had disappeared. Their presence explained why he’d left so abruptly. Caroline had been too absorbed in the kiss to even hear them approach. How much had they seen?

  Caroline couldn’t resist one last glance over her shoulder, but Castillo was gone. When she looked back, Aunt Prudie’s concerned expression had changed to one of amusement. “Enjoying your evening, dear?”

  They hadn’t seen the kiss. Caroline couldn’t allow herself to believe it, but her aunt’s gaze had dropped to her lips. The impulse to touch them was too great for Caroline to ignore, so she’d pressed her fingertips against them before she’d thought better of it. They felt a little tender. Caroline dropped her hand, curling it into a fist at her side. “It’s a lovely evening. How about you?”

  “Lovely indeed. Samuel and I have been having a pleasant walk. Perhaps you’d like to take a stroll with Mr. Jameson?” Aunt Prudie raised a brow and tilted her head toward the path Castillo had taken.

  “I don’t...um... I think he had to go talk to someone.” Caroline glanced back at her father. He didn’t seem angry, but his brow was furrowed in concern as he stared out at the night sky. Perhaps he hadn’t seen the kiss and only knew they’d been talking.

  Guilt tightened her chest. She didn’t like lying to these people she loved more than any others in the entire world. It suddenly felt wrong to give Aunt Prudie hope when Caroline knew that nothing would ever come of her relationship with Castillo. It seemed wrong to continue allowing her father to worry, as he so obviously was worrying right now.

  But most of all, it seemed wrong to keep Castillo from the mission that called to him. He could have been out all evening searching for the man responsible for his grandfather’s death, but instead he’d been here with her.

  “I’m going to go to bed. I haven’t been sleeping well.” She needed to get away and think about what to do.

  “Is everything all right?” her father asked.

  “I’m tired.” Caroline smiled and kissed his cheek good-night. After some murmured words of concern from Aunt Prudie, Caroline made her way to her room to think.

  Chapter Nine

  A saloon on the wrong of side of Helena wasn’t how Castillo had wanted to spend this night. He’d spent two days chasing Bennett Derringer only to have to deal with the unexpected presence of Caroline Hartford at the ranch the night before, coupled with the unpleasant conversation with Tanner. A day of playing attentive suitor to Caroline and that damn kiss just a few hours ago had nearly made him forget all the reasons he couldn’t have her.

  Castillo was in no mood for saloons. He wanted to sleep in his comfortable bed back at the Jameson Ranch for one whole night and forget the mess his life was in right now. But that fire had been a signal. He’d gone out to meet one of the hands who’d told him Zane wanted to meet him in town.

  It was early in the week, but the place was busy. A sign written in chalk out front had advertised a faro tournament, so most of the tables were filled with men competing. A woman in a low-cut gown and an abundance of cosmetics played what might have been a pleasant tune on a piano in the center of the room, but Castillo’s head pounded with every chord.

  A few men at the tables took in his presence inside the door, but most were too busy concentrating on the cards before them. It was just as well. Castillo was in no mood to be friendly. In fact, he might appreciate a fight tonight to ease some of the frustration threatening to boil over inside him. It was a stupid disposition to bring to a saloon
, evidence that he shouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be here if Zane hadn’t sent him a message to meet.

  Castillo kept his hat on as he stepped into the room on his way to the bar in the back. He wasn’t Castillo Jameson tonight. He wasn’t even Castillo Reyes tonight. He hoped that, with his hat pulled down low, he looked just like any other straggler passing through town. Someone these men would notice just enough to avoid.

  He caught sight of Zane sitting at a table in the corner and changed course. “Do you have anything?” he asked as he pulled out the chair beside his friend and sat down facing the door.

  “Good evening to you, too, brother.” Zane flashed a smile that did nothing to make him look friendly and upended a shot glass, filling it with whiskey from the bottle on the table.

  Castillo grunted and looked over the men around them. He didn’t expect Bennett to be there playing faro, but Castillo had made many enemies over the last few years, so he was always looking for them in places like this. “Have you found out anything?” he asked again.

  Zane threw back the whiskey and the smile dropped from his face. “I think there’s a spy at Victoria House. Someone went through my room. They didn’t take anything, so I can only assume they were looking for information.”

  “Money?” Castillo asked.

  “I keep a hundred or so in the armoire. It was still there.”

  Castillo let out a breath. “A hundred is a lot, especially for someone working at the brothel.”

  “It wasn’t touched.”

  Castillo grimaced at the implication. Victoria House was the most exclusive brothel in Helena. Glory Winters, the brothel’s madam, had approached Hunter for help a couple of years ago when a group of men had decided that they’d be better at running such a lucrative establishment than she would. Castillo and the gang had provided the necessary muscle to make the men realize they’d have more success in another town. Since then, Castillo and Glory had become associates of sorts, coming to each other with bits of information the other might need. He didn’t want to think of her as a traitor, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility.

  “The spy either didn’t need the money or is being paid more than that.” Glory was richer than sin and, as far as he knew, was the only one in that brothel who wouldn’t be tempted by that amount of money. She was also the only one who knew about their outlaw activities. It didn’t make sense that she’d have anything to do with Derringer, but Castillo had to consider it. “Have you mentioned this to Glory?”

  Zane shook his head and his jaw clenched as his gaze passed over the room. Clearly, the possibility that she was somehow in cahoots with Derringer, or whoever had ordered Zane’s room searched, had occurred to him. Zane, who knew firsthand the risks involved with loving the wrong woman, harbored a soft spot for the madam. For his sake, Castillo hoped she wasn’t a spy.

  Castillo tossed back the drink and rose to his feet. “Let’s go talk to her.”

  Zane nodded and followed him out. A light drizzle had begun to fall while they were inside, but Castillo didn’t hurry his steps. It was a short walk to Victoria House, and they’d need to keep their eyes open for anyone who could be following them. Castillo had given it a lot of thought and he didn’t think Bennett’s presence in the area was a coincidence. Derringer had likely figured out who he was and was hoping to take him out before Castillo found him. That was the most logical explanation.

  Castillo had stabled his horse across town and left one of the men behind to keep watch. But the streets were dark in this part of town, and now that they were deserted because of the rain, he wondered if it wouldn’t be better to have another man with them. The air was thick with the smells of mud and horses. The sounds of music and revelry were partially muted behind closed doors and windows. If there was ever a time to corner them alone...this was it. Zane’s hand went to the gun hidden in the holster beneath his coat, and Castillo knew he was worried, too.

  Victoria House was a three-story brick building that towered over all the other squat structures in the district, and it would’ve been at home on the reputable side of town had it not been a brothel. Castillo exchanged a look with Zane and they navigated the two blocks to reach it. Despite the mud, they kept to the street and avoided getting too close to any darkened storefronts. Part of him wanted Derringer to confront them now, just to get it over with. But a confrontation in the dark on Derringer’s terms wouldn’t be wise.

  “Let’s go in the back,” Zane said and took the turn into the alley. “There’s a dinner tonight and likely to be too many people in the foyer.”

  Castillo agreed and followed Zane, but they both stopped when a shadow separated itself from the dark exterior wall of the general store. As they watched, it darted across the alley to disappear around the corner of the building and down a small alley barely wide enough to walk through without turning sideways. Castillo caught Zane’s eye, who nodded and went back the way they’d come to make his way around the building and intercept the shadow at the other end. Drawing his gun, Castillo quietly headed to the corner and drew back the hammer as slowly as he could so it wouldn’t make more than a soft, metallic click. He paused when he reached the corner, his back against the brick wall and his pulse pounding in his ears.

  The shadow wouldn’t be Derringer. If the man was connected to him, he’d be a lackey, but at least Castillo would be one step closer to the man. He strained to listen, but couldn’t hear anything except the steady patter of rain on cobblestones. Out of habit, he pressed his palm to the golden cross that hung on a chain around his neck, tucked inside his shirt. His mother had given it to him when he’d been a boy, telling him that it would keep him safe. It had seemed to work so far, though he was certain dodging bullets and chasing outlaws wasn’t what she’d had in mind. Nevertheless, he mouthed a prayer, not daring to speak the words aloud. When he’d waited long enough for Zane to make his way around the building to reach the other end of the narrow outlet, he yelled, “We have you trapped. Throw down your gun.”

  For a full minute there was nothing and then the shadow reappeared, brandishing a scrap piece of wood that had probably been lying in the darkened alcove. Before Castillo could react, the length of wood knocked his gun out of his hand. Castillo dived forward, tackling the shadow to the ground. The man grunted at the impact when he hit the ground with Castillo’s weight on top of him, but he wasted no time in striking back, catching Castillo with a fist to his chin that left him reeling. He rolled from the impact but didn’t loosen his grip, so his assailant rolled with him.

  Castillo recovered before the man could get another punch in and hit him hard with a right hook that knocked him backward. Following him down, Castillo took another hit to his cheekbone before landing enough blows to leave the man on the defensive, his hands raised to cover his face. Footsteps approached from the narrow alley, coming so fast that for a moment Castillo wasn’t sure if it was another attacker, but he turned to see Zane running out of the alley.

  “There’s no one else down there,” Zane said.

  Castillo turned his attention back to the man on the ground beneath him. “Who the hell are you?”

  The man’s head lolled. He seemed to be only half conscious.

  “Let’s get him inside before someone else comes,” Zane said. As if to emphasize his point, a wagon drove by on the main road, the driver whistling a tune though rain continued to drizzle.

  Castillo nodded. “We’ll take him to Glory’s.” Though the madam wouldn’t like it, they needed somewhere to question him. Castillo took the man’s gun and rose, and Zane reached down to sling him over his shoulder. Castillo picked up the gun that had been knocked out of his hand, and together they made their way through the dark alley to the gate in the tall, wooden fence that led to the courtyard behind the brothel.

  “Good. Still unlocked.” Zane kicked it open and led the way inside with his burden over his sho
ulder. Castillo latched it behind them and rushed up the steps to the back door.

  The door led into a servant’s hallway. A girl he vaguely recognized screeched when he forced the door open and stumbled inside. She dropped the pile of linens she’d been holding and rushed away from them toward the front of the house, no doubt going to alert her mistress. That meant they’d have only a few precious moments alone with the man before Glory found them.

  “This way.” Castillo led them to a storeroom off to the left and shut the door behind them. Zane set the man down onto a crate of bottled whiskey. In the light, Castillo could see the man was young, probably around twenty. The flesh around his eye was already beginning to swell, but he was alert as he looked back at them, fear making him tremble.

  “Who the hell are you?” Castillo demanded.

  “J-Johnson, Rob Johnson.” He gave them an insolent glare as he spat a mouthful of blood onto the wooden floor.

  Zane shrugged when Castillo looked at him to see if the name meant anything to him. Castillo wasn’t able to place it amongst the lowlifes they’d met over the past several years, but then again, it wasn’t a very memorable name. “Do you know who I am?” Castillo asked.

  “No, didn’t ask.” Johnson drew forward a little as he gave Castillo a closer look.

  “What’s that mean?”

  When Johnson just glared, Zane reached forward and grabbed a handful of his shirt, nearly pulling him all the way up to his feet. “Better start explaining yourself real quick, boy.”

  Johnson’s eyes widened as he looked from Zane to Castillo and back again. “I meant that I was told to follow this one.” He nodded at Zane, who still held him. “He’s been staying at the brothel here, and I was told to watch him and follow him.”

  “Who told you this?” Zane asked. “Glory?”

  The man’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Fella I met over at the Alhambra.” The Alhambra was a saloon just a few blocks over, nearer the edge of town. It was said that men went into that hellhole and never reappeared. “Gave me twenty dollars to take the job. Said he’d give me fifty if I could deliver the Spaniard to him.” He tilted his chin up toward Castillo. “You’re the Spaniard, ain’t you? The fella said he wanted you dead or alive, and the big fella here would lead me to you.”