His grey eyes stood out in the darkness, almost looking silver by the moonlight. He tilted his hat back on his forehead. “At least we are finally in a location where we should easily be able to talk, right? It’s only us and the stars up here tonight.”
“I have nothing to talk to you about,” Serena said with finality, turning her back on him for the second time that day. Much to her surprise, he walked casually across the roof tiles and sat down close to her, so close that his broad shoulders touched her petite ones.
“May I?” he asked, extending his hand towards her cigarette.
She passed her cigarette over to him, waiting to see his reaction. He took a long drag on it and handed it back to her, his expression never changing. He blew the smoke out as he looked down at the saloon. “This is a good vantage point, I’ll give you that. But you still haven’t made it clear why you are watching my men in the first place.”
“I haven’t invited you for a conversation, either. You’re more than welcome to leave now.”
He clasped his hands together on top of his knees and glanced at her sideways. “How many of those things do you smoke a day? Because I’m fairly certain you’re getting just a little too much peyote.”
Serena couldn’t hold back her laughter, even though it was soft enough that it still couldn’t be heard on the ground below. “No, ranger, I don’t use enough peyote to even give me the best of hallucinations. Just a little bit adds some flavor. I’ve got at least four other herbs in this one. I was wondering if you would notice.”
“Hard not to. Last time I tasted something like that was at a tribal council.”
Serena turned her head towards him sharply, her eyes measuring him. “A tribal council?” She arched an eyebrow as she looked at him, suddenly intrigued.
She had already wondered who he was when he had referred to the rangers as his own, but now he brought something entirely new to fascinate her.
He only nodded and didn’t say anything further, but instead reached for her cigarette again, which she handed over to him, hoping he would talk. He blew rings of smoke up into the night sky, the sky that she remembered he had said earlier they only shared with the stars. He was quickly becoming someone she needed to know better.
“Over the years,” he began slowly, “I’ve been fortunate to be in the right place at the right time for many different key events. And it has landed me in a role where I work with various Indian tribes towards understanding, or peace, or, in an ideal world, both.”
“So, is that why you’re here? You’re going to help negotiate the terms at the Council House Meeting?” Serena’s heart was thudding hard, and she wondered if he could see her pulse beating at the base of her neck.
There were very few people she knew who were supportive of the Indian’s rights. To find someone, a ranger no less, who believed like she, would be incredible.
“Is that why you are spying on my rangers? To find out why we are here?” His gaze connected with hers and, for a moment, she thought he looked surprised at the hope in her expression. Or perhaps he was just surprised that she was watching him so intently.
“That is it, isn’t it, pixie?”
Serena’s face quickly fell from hope or interest and into one of anger. “Just because you’re as big as an ox doesn’t give you the right to make fun of others.”
He watched her face closely, too closely for her liking. She almost felt like he was reading into her thoughts, her hopes, her dreams... her fears. And she shared those things with no one. Not even her sisters. Especially her sisters.
“I meant pixie as a nickname for you, not as an insult. Yes, I know I’m as big as an ox, and about as clumsy as one, too, if you’d like to know. But you are rather... tiny, even by your own measure I’d wager.”
“Is that why you and your men visit the saloon? To wager?” Serena wanted the attention off her as quickly as possible.
He sighed heavily and returned to his previous position, his hands clasped and resting on his knees in front of him, using the heels of his boots in the ceiling tiles to hold his place and not slide down. “Why is that so important to you? Why do you even care? We aren’t causing you any harm. If anything, we’re bringing business to your cocina.”
“Why now? Why am I suddenly seeing rangers and members of the Republic Army in our streets? We are free of Santa Anna’s rule. We are a republic. We don’t need this.”
He stared down at the saloon doors for long enough that she wondered if he had even heard her question. She wasn’t prepared for what he was about to say next, though.
“Can I buy you a drink, pixie?”
Chapter Two
Trevor Daniels had to do his best to behave as a gentleman. But after he had shimmied down the side of the building he had just been perched on, only to look up and see the sweetest buttocks of a woman wiggling down behind him, it took all of his concentration not to reach up, cup what was being offered, and assist her the rest of the way down.
He had already done his research, and knew Serena Torres was not one to trifle with. Having grown up through the Texas Revolution, she had seen and witnessed things he could only begin to imagine. On top of that, she was known as a bit eccentric, if he was to translate what the locals called her in civilized terms, and hell-bent on making sure people heard her when she had a strong opinion.
Beyond that, the woman seemed to be a bit of a mystery to everyone else. They mentioned that she seemed to finally be settling down from her wild days as she became more responsible at the cocina, but they obviously had no idea what she was up to at night. Did her sisters even know?
“This should be good, ranger. The saloon isn’t usually welcoming to me.”
Trevor should be surprised. He should be shocked that a lady in a decent, not great, but decent, standing in the community would try to go into a saloon. But as she dropped to the ground beside him and she snuffed out the last bits of her cigarette under her boot, he realized there was very little that would take him by surprise when it came to this woman. He turned and began to walk away from her, hoping she would follow. But instead she was by his elbow in a heartbeat, scowling up at him.
“Is that how you normally treat ladies? You just turn and walk away, expecting them to follow you like some pet?”
“A pet? Hell, woman, you sure are some piece of work. I know where we’re going, so it makes sense for me to lead us there.” She was laughing one moment, indifferent to him the next, and then indignant at the way he treated her. He had a feeling she would be quite the tangled web to unravel. But he fully intended to unravel her—for the safety of his men and for his own curiosity.
“I know exactly where we’re going. The polite thing would be to allow me to walk alongside you, not follow you like a lost puppy.” She was still glaring up at him.
He ignored her glare and she continued walking alongside him. But when he passed the doors to the saloon her glare slowly dissipated into a look of curiosity. He enjoyed watching her self-righteous attitude drop.
Just a few doors down, they were at the jail and he opened the door for her, gesturing gallantly for her to enter. Much to his surprise, though, she balked and almost seemed frightened to go inside. He glanced inside and realized it did look rather foreboding in the darkness.
He shrugged while looking down at her. “I’ll light the lantern as soon as we get inside.”
“Why are you bringing me here?” she questioned, her voice strained with an emotion he couldn’t quite distinguish.
“I told you I was going to offer you a drink, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“You said you were going to buy me a drink. Very different.” She took a step back from him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you afraid, pixie? I bought the liquor, so essentially I’m buying you a drink. Or are you too afraid to come into the jail with me? What do you think I will do? Lock you up?”
She lifted her chin, the picture of a stubborn soul that wouldn’t tolerate an
y insult to her bravery. “You better have some extremely good liquor in there, ranger.” With her head still held high, she swept past him into the jail.
Trevor shook his head and followed behind her and lit the lamp hanging from the hook on the wall. It gave a glow to the room that held three empty jail cells, and in the corner a desk with various “Wanted” posters scattered on it. There were a few other parchments on the desk, some with official wax sealed stamps that contained information about the Council House Meeting.
He saw her eyeing the documents and felt the tingling of irritation. Why was this woman so focused on the meeting? But the irritation didn’t last long as he observed her form in the flickering lamplight. Yes, she was small, and usually he was attracted to women that were taller and capable of doing more than fluttering around looking pretty.
But he could tell she had more fight in her than most of the women he’d ever known. And her curves were enough to drive any sane man crazy. It didn’t help that she had on snug buckskin pants and a shirt that clung to her chest, despite it obviously being too large for her. The moccasin shoes she wore were part leggings, going halfway up her calf and laced with leather.
Her hair was as wild as she seemed to be, with curls that draped down her shoulders and back and shined almost as if the flame of the lights below were within. He wanted to touch it, to feel the soft silk between his fingers. But he doubted the fiery little pixie would tolerate any touch from him, no matter how innocent. He smiled slightly to himself. Pixie. She had bristled at the name, but it was the perfect fit for her. Not only was she short, but she was tiny in her waist, her bones, her entire structure. He could only imagine what it would be like to hold something so delicate.
“Are you going to stand there all night smirking or are you going to get me that drink you promised?”
Perhaps delicate was a poor choice of words to describe her. He walked over to the desk and kicked out a chair for her, then sat down in the one immediately behind the desk and opened the large bottom drawer. He pulled out a half full bottle of blackstrap rum and two shot glasses.
Serena sat down slowly, eyeing his every movement. “You certainly are prepared. Do you bring many women back here to indulge in a drink with you?”
He chuckled. “This is a reserve that I tap into with your brother-in-law, Cade, from time to time. No woman has ever shared it with me.” He poured the shot glasses full and wondered if she’d actually be able to drink it. The drink certainly wasn’t made for those with little experience with alcohol.
“I’m honored to be the first one that gets that experience.” She nodded towards him, tapped her glass against his, and downed the shot in one quick gulp.
Trevor covered his surprise by taking his shot just as quickly, feeling the liquid burning its hot trail down to his stomach. Serena was already holding her glass out for another round. She watched him expectantly, and he got the feeling she was testing him, seeing if he would be able to keep up with her.
With determination, he poured her another and then another for himself. Their glasses clinked and both downed the drink in a single swallow. “I’m at least twice your size, pixie. If you want to get in a drinking contest with me, I can already tell you who’s going to win.”
Serena held her glass out to him again, her eyes flashing at the challenge. “You think you know me so well, don’t you?”
He shrugged as he poured the drinks. “I don’t know. I’ve never met a woman quite like you.”
Clink.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Serena asked, her eyes locked with his.
“Depends. So far, the woman I’ve met has been extremely engaging and quite entertaining. But then, that same woman sits on top of roofs and watches my men come and go while she smokes a peyote cigarette.”
Clink.
“It barely had a drop of peyote essence in it. But it will be more fun for you to tell your friends that is what I smoke, won’t it?”
“I don’t have any friends.”
She paused halfway towards tapping her glass against his. “What? How can you say that? You’re a Texas Ranger. Everyone around you wants to be your friend.”
“Those are just people who believe in the legends and the myths. Yes, the rangers are very brave and do their damnedest to keep people safe. But if people knew the stories of the long hours in the saddle, scraping an empty pot hoping to find just one more bean, and dodging bullets and arrows for the sake of surviving, they may not see us the same way again.”
Serena wrinkled her face in irritation, which drew his attention to all of the freckles covering her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. God, she was beautiful and she had absolutely no clue.
“Then why are you a ranger? You don’t make it sound very glamorous.”
Clink.
Trevor chugged back another one and set his glass down. “I’ve never been interested in fame or glory. I’m interested in justice.” It was time for them to take a break from the drinking.
Otherwise he wouldn’t find out the information he needed from her. And from the slightly dazed expression on her face, she was feeling it worse than he was. Time for him to get some answers.
Much to his surprise, she held up her glass again. He took a long time filling both of them. “Do you want to tell me why you’ve been following my men now?
She narrowed her eyes at him and, for a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. “We need peace with the Comanche. Can’t you see that?” She sighed heavily and stared at her glass. “Will we be able to find that? Having the Comanche asking for a peace meeting, and then having them show up to an entire military presence, along with the Texas Rangers won’t go over very well.”
“What makes you think they aren’t going to show up with their warriors?”
“Because they are the ones that asked for the peace meeting. It would be foolish for them to do so.”
“How do you know so much about all of this, anyway? What makes you so determined to see the peace meeting a success?”
Serena tilted her head back and stared at the rafters above his head. “Talking Wolf.”
Trevor felt tension build in his muscles. “Who is Talking Wolf?” Was this her Indian lover? Was this the big secret she was hiding?
“He isn’t a threat, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She lowered her head back and was smiling at him. “He certainly isn’t going to come charging through and cause problems for anyone. As it is for him now, he can barely see.”
A piece of intel from one of his men tickled the back of his mind. “You’re talking about the old man who willingly left the Comanche to live here in San Antonio, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know that I would say he ‘willingly’ left the Comanche. He was a strong proponent of finding a peaceful existence with the whites, and that didn’t go over well with his tribe. He was encouraged to leave, especially if he wanted his son to have the opportunity to grow up and be a strong warrior. So he left.”
“How did you get to know him?” Trevor asked, genuinely curious about her unusual experiences.
She shook her head at him and tapped her glass. “You have to pay for my answers, ranger.”
Clink!
His lips twitched as he poured her another drink, though he made it half of what he had been serving her, as she was starting to become slightly tipsy.
“So,” he said before she could notice he didn’t pour another drink for himself. “How do you know Talking Wolf?”
“There’s a very small adobe house on the end of our street. For a long time, I didn’t think anyone lived there. When I was much younger, I decided it would be a great opportunity for me to use the vacant building as my own place. When I came into that house, it was as if I had traveled to another world.”
For several moments she sat in silence, still staring at her glass, and Trevor wondered if she was already completely soused. But when she looked back up at him, her vision was clear.
“Talkin
g Wolf didn’t kick me out. Instead, he welcomed me into his home. He showed me things I’d never seen before and, on top of that, he taught me and guided me and was there for me when my father was no longer around. I lost my parents when I was young, and I thought I’d been just fine with my grandparents. But I hadn’t realized the influence a father can have on you. Talking Wolf is like my father and friend all in one. He wants to see peace more than anyone else I know.”
“Hmm.” Trevor watched her down the small glass of rum he had poured her. “What about his son? I’ve heard he has become a warrior—a very strong warrior. Do you know him?”
Serena laughed, and Trevor was mesmerized by the beauty of it. Clear and light, it brought a smile to his face. Damn, maybe he had already had too much to drink for himself and needed to worry about that instead of her coherency level.
“Stalking Wolf comes to visit whenever he can. We nearly grew up together. He taught me how to ride horses bareback, shoot a bow and arrow... and, well”—color infused her face as she seemed to suddenly remember who she was talking to—“you get the idea.”
Trevor leaned back in his chair and watched her closely. “So you grow up surrounded by the ways and traditions of the Comanche and that makes you think you know them as a people? That makes you think you know how the tribes are?”
A flash of irritation crossed her face. “I’m not a fool, ranger. I’ve heard of the raids. I’ve heard of the attacks on the settlers. But not all Comanche are like that.”
He watched her for several moments, and her gaze never wavered. “I agree. They aren’t all like that. But a majority have become that way. Which is why we are fighting them.”
“Which is why we need this peace treaty so much. The fighting must stop. Now... are you ready to answer some of my questions?”
He raised an eyebrow as he watched her, curious what all she would ask him. “Fine.” He sighed. “I’m the captain of the rangers that are stationed here currently.”
Texas Heat Page 2