Most Unsuitable Courtship

by Clemmons, Caroline

  “He’d been robbed before. Knowing how evil mankind could be, he also knew he could not protect you without those plans. Rena, he was right because he understood the world, but not because of a premonition.”

  She leaned back and sent him a steely stare. “I think you have this . . . what you call a premonition, do you not?”

  “Not exactly. I know today will be dangerous and difficult. That’s why I wish you would wait here or with the children.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. “I know, you intend to go with me. I’m explaining how I feel.”

  He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’m confident that if this goes as we expect, we will win and capture these men.” He shook his head, wishing he didn’t have that eerie sense of foreboding. “Too much depends on everything going as we plan.”

  “I know the danger. Now explain exactly what we are to do.”

  “At ten we will casually walk over to the bank and go inside. The sheriff will already have entered from the back door. The delivery of the payrolls will be brought straight from the train.”

  “And that’s when the men will rob the bank?”

  “If we guessed right.” He couldn’t meet her gaze, but stared out the window.

  A man drove a wagon on the street below while others walked near the buildings. The scene appeared normal. Later this morning, violence would explode.

  “And what time is it now?”

  He pulled out his watch and his heart accelerated. Time rushed while he wanted it to pause. Pause and give him more time with Rena. Pause and hold the world at bay. “Ten minutes after eight.”

  She pulled him to his feet. “Then we have time. We cannot sit here and worry for almost two hours.” She unbuttoned his shirt. “I will make you forget those men and the bank.”

  He smiled at her eagerness but acted shocked. “Ma’am, we hardly know one another. Are you trying to have your way with me?”

  “You guessed right, marshal.” She pushed the shirt from his shoulders. “Now get out of those clothes and back on that bed.”

  They raced to undress and fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. She straddled him and pretended she was in charge. Hell, she was in charge. And that was fine with him.

  Her delicate lips kissed a tantalizing trail across his face and cheeks, then down his neck to his shoulders. Again he blessed his fortune in marrying a passionate woman not afraid to show her desire. Her elegant hand slid to his rigid staff.

  “You are very hard.”

  “Happens whenever you’re near. Or when I think about you.”

  “This is good. I think I can do this.” She lifted and guided him into her velvet channel.

  Her glorious moist heat engulfed him. With rhythmic motions she moved her slender hips to meet his thrusts. His mind shut down to everything but her and them.

  He lifted his head to pull her erect nipple into his mouth. Her gasp of pleasure told him he pleased her as much as she did him. Arching her back, she threw back her head to give him easier access to her breast.

  Aching need throbbed inside him. This woman heated his blood and fired his imagination as no other. They were one now, melded together.

  Her thrusts sped up, launching a spiral of pleasure. Merciful heaven, he couldn’t wait longer. His seed burst from him, filling her and spreading onto the sheet.

  She tightened her muscles as if to squeeze him dry. His arms flopped outstretched to the sides. She rolled onto his arm and snuggled next to him.

  When their breathing returned to normal, she slid from bed. “I must raise the window. The room smells of us.” She pulled on her wrapper and opened the window.

  “I can’t move.” He lay spread eagled. Every part of his body thanked her.

  The smile of a well-pleased woman danced on her pretty face. “Also we must wash ourselves. We do not want the robbers to smell us when they enter town.” She poured water from the pitcher into the bowl and proceeded with a sponge bath.

  He loved watching her graceful movements. Her tall, willowy body put Grecian statues to shame. At least, those he’d seen drawn in books.

  After donning her britches and shirt, she piled her hair atop her head and secured it with pins. He caught her gaze in the mirror over the washstand. “Lazy man, how will you support your family if you are a lie-a-bed?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Groaning, he rolled out of bed and cleansed his body.

  She rushed over to him. “Your leg, where you were shot. The bandage has slipped. It looks angry and infected.”

  He tugged the wrapping back in place. “Naw, that Pursley woman had the healing touch of an angry grizzly bear. I’ll be fine until we get home. Between them, Pearl and the doc will know what I need.”

  “You need to see the doctor now. As soon as we are finished with these killers, you go to the doctor.”

  He gave a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.” Truth be told, his leg had become a throbbing pain hard to ignore. The wound shouldn’t be hot to the touch. Instead of healing, he suspected it grew worse.

  He checked his watch, and then shoved it back into his vest pocket. “Almost time for us to saunter over to the bank.”

  She turned, dressed in her britches and shirt, with her battered hat on her head.

  He tilted his head and studied her. “You’d probably attract less attention in women’s clothes. Those britches call attention to your shapely hips.”

  She looked down at her attire. “But you said the sheriff expected me to be in these.”

  “That he does. Well, he expects me to talk you out of showing up, but we know how that went.” He set his hat firmly on his head. “You ready to go downstairs?”

  “Ja. I am ready. My gun is loaded.”

  He’d cleaned and oiled his revolvers and hers last night. He reached over and pulled her shirt loose from her pants enough to cover her gun. “There. Now the butt of your revolver isn’t noticeable.”

  “Now I look messy, but this is better.”

  He extended his arm.

  She shook her head. “A man does not take the arm of another man.”

  “Habit is a hard thing to forget.” He opened the door and they headed for the stairs. “Stay near me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  At the top of the staircase, he paused and scanned the lobby. A drummer with his sample case stood at the counter. Harvey chatted with the man as if they were old acquaintances. Across the lobby, a well-dressed woman seated on the plush sofa read a newspaper. He exhaled and descended the stairs with Rena behind him.

  He opened the door and once again paused. “Stick close to the wall and we’ll walk to the corner and cross there.”

  They strode across the dirt street and approached the bank. He scanned the people bustling about their morning’s business. They were only a couple of doors away from the bank when Rena’s voice startled him.

  “Storm?”

  His gaze followed the direction of hers. Three men rode slowly into town. Had he and Rena been spotted?

  “Turn in that doorway. No sudden motions.” He followed her into a cobbler-saddlemaker’s shop. They moved away from the window and into the shadows. The killers rode directly toward them.

  Behind them, someone asked, “Can I help you?”

  Storm whirled to the leather worker and displayed his badge. “Take cover. Those three men are killers who intend to rob the bank.”

  “Mister, I’ll leave through the back. Don’t want no trouble with killers.” The small man disappeared out the back.

  “Rena, get back. They might not have seen us.” He watched the men tie up their horses in front of the bank and then swagger into the saloon next door. He exhaled.

  One more time, he checked his pocket watch. Ten minutes before he and Rena were supposed to enter the bank. “Dang, I spotted the tip of Bill’s rifle and hat atop the hotel. Hope the killers didn’t see him too.”

  “What do we do now, go to the saloon?”

  “No point. They’ll likely stay there until the m
oney’s delivered.”

  “I hate waiting.”

  “Not fond of it myself.” He glanced back and thought her too near the windows. “Move further back in this shop. See if there’s a chair or saddle to sit on. I’ll keep watch and let you know if they start for the bank.”

  Time dragged and his gut clenched tighter with each second. He heard a scrape on the floor. Good, Rena had found a place to sit and stay out of trouble.

  Finally, a wagon drew up in front of the bank. Disguised as freighters, the men appeared to be offloading a crate of paper goods. He shook his head. Even he recognized the men as guards unloading valuable cargo.

  His sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. Apprehension attacked so strongly he almost staggered. What caused this sinister presentiment?

  “S-Storm?” Rena’s voice sounded strained.

  He turned and a horrifying sight greeted him. Ute held an arm around Rena and a Bowie knife at her throat.

  Ute shoved her in front of him as he advanced on Storm. “Do as I say or the puta dies.”

  “No, Storm.” Her voice strained, he saw determination in her wide eyes.

  “Quiet.” Ute jerked her and nicked her beautiful throat in the process. Several drops of blood trickled down her ivory skin. “Marshal, drop your guns.”

  “You’ve killed too many women, Ute. I know you won’t let her go.”

  “You’ll do as I say or she dies slowly, one slice at a time. Drop your guns and we’ll step next door to the bank.”

  Storm gauged his chances to draw and shoot the other man before he could harm Rena. Not possible. Slowly, he unbuckled his gun belt and laid it on the shop counter. Had the man disarmed Rena?

  Ute nodded toward the street. “Now, we’ll walk out of here like we’re old friends. One misstep and she dies. You first.”

  Storm opened the door and stepped onto what passed as a boardwalk. He glanced at the hotel, careful to appear casually looking around. Bill signaled with a slight lift of his hat. At least his ally knew what took place.

  They stepped into the bank.

  Ute kicked the door closed behind him. “Everyone raise your hands or this woman dies now.”

  Storm lifted his arms and locked gazes with the sheriff. “Sorry, he outwitted me. Please, do as he says.”

  The sheriff sent a stony snarl. “I knew she should have stayed in the hotel. Woman involved in a trap always means trouble.” He raised his hands. “All right, the rest of you raise your hands.”

  The sheriff need not have issued the request. Everyone else in the bank had already complied except the other two robbers who proceeded to shove money from the cash drawers into bags.

  Charlie Wilson shoved the crate the guards disguised as freighters had delivered. “You two load this right back on the wagon.”

  When the men didn’t move fast enough, Charlie used his gun as a club and hit one of the men. The guard dropped to the floor.

  “You.” Charlie pointed to a cashier. “Help move this crate back to the wagon. And you’d better be quick about it or you’ll get worse than he did.”

  The cashier lost no time pitching in. Unlike the remaining guard, the bank employee was a small, fragile looking man who appeared to be in his mid forties. By the time the box had been restored to the delivery wagon, the man’s red face showed his struggle.

  Ute tugged Rena with him toward the wagon. “Anyone tries to follow us, she dies.”

  Storm moved forward, fists clenched, watching impotently as the vicious Ute dragged Rena toward the wagon. Storm knew what awaited his wife if he did nothing. Her eyes met his and he recognized her sad farewell. She had resigned herself to death.

  Knowledge of her capitulation seared his heart and crushed him to his core. Had she no faith he could rescue her from the sadistic killers and their inhuman treatment? Could he? He’d damned well try as long as his lungs held breath.

  Pig tossed the bank bags onto the wagon then retrieved the three horses.

  From down the street, a child ran toward them. “Mama. Want Mama.”

  Behind her, Mrs. Wood trotted. “Lottie, come back here, Lottie.”

  Drew and Susie followed on the woman’s heels. Drew gained speed but Lottie ran faster than Storm would have believed.

  Everything stilled. Sound muted. His body froze. Trapped in time, Storm commanded his muscles to react. Then the world cracked.

  The killers turned toward Lottie.

  Rena screamed, “No!” She sagged in Ute’s arms and he grabbed her hair as she dropped to her knees.

  A rifle shot cracked the air. Ute dropped forward across Rena. Storm ran for the fallen killer’s gun. Pig drew and aimed. Storm prayed the gun pointed at him would fail. He prayed Pig was a bad shot. Inside his rapidly beating heart, Storm knew better. At this distance, he made an easy target.

  Swiftly, Rena drew her pistol and shot Pig Vann. She looked at the gun, as if unable to believe she’d fired it. It fell from her fingers.

  The sheriff and his deputy rushed out of the bank, firing at Charlie Wilson.

  Charlie evaded bullets. He leaned low on his horse and rode out of town.

  Storm rushed to Rena. “Are you all right?”

  Tears pouring from her eyes, she hugged Lottie. “Ja. Do not wait for me.”

  He gripped her shoulders so he could see her face. “Rena, I promised I’d tell you. I’m leaving now to capture Charlie Wilson.”

  Still crying, she nodded. “Be safe and come back to us.”

  “I intend to return and stay with you forever.”

  Drew reached her. Bless him, he carried Lottie’s stupid pee potty. “Mama, you shot that man.”

  She hugged the boy’s shoulders as she stared at Storm. “He was one of the men who killed your parents and my grandfather.”

  Townspeople gathered around them. Both guards carried the crate back into the bank. Pale as his white shirt, the cashier leaned against the wagon’s side.

  Storm ran to the cobbler’s leather shop and grabbed his gun belt. He leaped into the saddle of the nearest horse. Leaving Rena to explain to the children, he rode after the killer headed toward the Red River crossing. Where was the fourth man?

  Where had the murderers stashed their loot? How could he find it?

  He hoped he could get Wilson alive and learn the answers.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Rena trembled as she hugged the three children to her. She couldn’t stop the tears’ flow.

  Panting, Mrs. Wood reached them. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. She was out of the house in a flash. How can such short legs run so fast?”

  Rena stood rocking Lottie in her arms. “I thought those men would shoot her. I thought we would all die.”

  The minister’s wife put an arm around her shoulders. “I saw you shoot that man and save your husband. You’re a brave woman, Mrs. Kincaid.”

  “Foolish is more like it.” Sheriff Foster’s red face projected anger and the veins in his neck bulged. He stabbed a finger in her direction. “If you’d stayed in the hotel with those children like a woman should, this capture wouldn’t have been botched up like this.”

  Her trembling made speech difficult. “I wanted to help my husband, sheriff.” She could never make him understand. Saying more was pointless.

  He gestured to those standing around. “Young woman, you almost got yourself and who knows how many others killed.”

  “Och, do not yell at me, sheriff. Too late I see what my husband meant. But I vowed to kill one of the men who had caused so much pain and sadness.”

  “What do you mean, you vowed to kill one of the men? You’re not a lawman. You think you can take the law into your own hands and become a vigilante?”

  “I did not think of myself as a vigilante.” She watched Bill McAfee approach from across the street, and then turned back to the sheriff. “The Ute tortured my grandfather. He is the one I promised myself I would kill. At least I made one of the men pay for his brutal crimes.”

  Sheriff Foster’s ange
r had not diminished. “Oh, no. Going to jail is paying for his crimes. You killed Pig Vann.”

  She clutched Lottie to her. “He would have shot my husband.”

  The sheriff stabbed his finger at her again. “If you had stayed at the hotel where you were supposed to be, the problem wouldn’t have come up. We’d have captured these men and sent them for trial and prison.”

  The sheriff’s accusations fired her temper. “Charlie Wilson was sent to prison, Sheriff Foster. You see how well that worked, do you not? Some men deserve to die.” She held up a staying hand. “Never again do I intend to kill a human.”

  Bill hurried to her. “You okay, Mrs. Kincaid?”

  She extended her hand for him to shake. “Thanks to you, I am fine. You are a good shot.”

  He stared as if he didn’t know whether to kiss her hand or shake it, but then he clasped it. “When I saw the Ute had you and that your husband was without his guns, I sure was worried. Lucky for me, your little girl caused a distraction.”

  Lottie smiled and patted Rena’s cheek. “Mama. Got Mama.”

  She laughed through her tears and kissed the child. “Oh, Lottie. You are a stubborn little girl, but I love you so much.” She reached for Drew and Susie. “I love all three of you very much.”

  Drew asked, “When will Papa be back?”

  “Och, I do not know, Drew. We must pray for his safety while we wait for him.” She glared at Sheriff Foster. “Are you going to help my husband or lecture me?”

  The veins in his neck bulged further and she feared she’d overstepped his tolerance. She hoped he didn’t have apoplexy there on the street.

  “My deputy’s rounding up some men.” He touched his hat brim as the men in this country did instead of tipping their hat. “I’ll saddle my horse and we’ll go after Charlie Wilson.”

  “Ladies.” Bill tapped a finger to his hat brim. “I believe I’ll join the posse.” He hurried toward the livery stable.