“What can I get you, Mr. McGraw?” Audrey Jo grinned and bobbled her curly red locks.
Placing a goodly amount of coins on the counter, he said, “Whatever this will buy.” He tried to smile back, but his social graces were so lacking that he knew the ol’ dance-hall girl recognized it for exactly what it was—as out of tune as the guitar picker.
“That much dinero will take you a long ways here.” She reached beneath the counter and held an amber bottle up to him. “One bit gets you whiskey, two bits the good stuff. Name your poison.”
He nodded toward the bottle Audrey Jo had in her hand.
The bartender set the liquor in front of him, along with a glass. “Just remember it was your choice.” She gave him a motherly, yet slightly flirtatious smile. “You sure do clean up nicely.”
Before he could thank her, Dixie rushed their way, spitting out an order, setting the redhead into action.
“Evening, Ranger.” Dixie mopped perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Thought you’d be with, uh, your bride tonight.”
The remark threw him a bit, but his curiosity overshadowed the truth. He needed to find out more about what was going on, and so far he’d pegged the seasoned barmaid as a gal to ride the river with. He sure as hell wanted her as a friend, because she’d be one hell of an enemy.
“I’m sure she’s sound asleep,” he offered.
“Oh, I see.” Dixie winked.
Hayden shot her a coy smile before he threw back a slug of whiskey. The hot liquid burned all the way to his toenails and nearly blew his boots off. He’d drunk more than his share of firewater, but this was the strongest he’d ever had the displeasure to drink. Hayden ran his fist across his lips trying to rid himself of the awful taste, and shuddered. “What in the hell!”
Audrey Jo slid four shot glasses to Dixie, who ignored them, snatching up the whiskey bottle instead.
Dixie spoke directly to the redhead. “You gotta be careful. This isn’t whiskey, but a concoction I fixed up to…” She looked over at Hayden with an apologetic smile of sorts. “A concoction I fixed up to clean with.” Dixie secured the jug under her arm and placed all four drinks in her left palm. “Gotta be more careful, Audrey Jo. Give him another bottle—and his money’s no good here.” She sauntered off, shooting over her shoulder, “I’ve got his drinks covered.”
“Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinkin’.” Audrey Jo cleared her throat and stepped to the back bar and placed another bottle before him. “Don’t think it’ll kill you, but if you gotta puke, go outside.” She shoved the coins his way, and refilled his glass.
“Where’s Muley tonight?” Hayden asked.
“Out.”
Audrey Jo’s short response told him what he wanted to know. Muley’s whereabouts were none of his dadgum business.
Tentatively, Hayden tossed back the whiskey. Much better. He was no expert on liquor, but knew it well enough to know that the first drink had been tarantula juice at its finest.
Hayden thanked her, turned away from the bar and surveyed the room. A table filled with mostly empty bowls was in the corner. Don’t believe he’d ever seen food, other than a few pickled eggs, in a saloon.
As he’d expect in any bar this late in the evening, a motley crew of gamblers, gunslingers, and businessmen sat at tables in various degrees of inebriation.
A buffalo skull hung on the wall. The bison had some of the biggest horns Hayden believed he’d ever seen in all his born days.
Dixie came in his view but disappeared through a door he was pretty sure didn’t lead to Ella’s living quarters. He wasn’t buying the excuse that he’d been served cleaning fluid for a second. What was going on? Too many odd happenings made his gut turn over.
Although it was late, the saloon had too much business for only two saloon girls to tend to.
So where was Muley?
Just being told he was out didn’t satisfy Hayden in the least. He took his drink and ambled toward where Dixie had exited, just about the time she came back through. She wiped her hands on her skirt, and said, “Sorry for the mix-up.”
“Answer a question and all’s forgiven.” He deliberately tried to woo her with a smile.
“Sure, Ranger.”
“Was the envelope you gave me today the only one that has arrived here for me?”
“Only one I’ve ever seen with your name on it. Muley generally handles what shows up for you all, if you get my drift.” She bit her lip.
He nodded in agreement, and lowered his voice, “Safe place for a Ranger who doesn’t want to be seen to light. How long have you all been here?”
“A year or so back. Ella’s father put this shack together before he took off. She’s only been in town a little while, still learning the ropes.”
“Took off?”
“Like he did in Mobeetie, but we followed him here. Needed our jobs. Her pa had a real problem with con artists, gamblers, or lawmen.” Dixie stopped and weighed her words carefully. “But, Ranger, he loves that girl.”
“But he still left her on her own?”
“More times than any gal should bear. He’d be here if he could. Gotta get back to work.” Dixie looked uncomfortably at Hayden. The first time he’d seen the woman not exude a sassy attitude. “And, Ranger, Ella takes care of her part of the business and we take care of this side. She doesn’t have a hand in running the saloon.” She headed in the direction of a table of impatient drinkers.
Hayden clenched his jaw. “So he loved her so much that he forgot where he left her.” He said under his breath, “One hell of a father.”
Dejected and feeling like a castoff himself, Hayden pulled in his horns and moseyed back to the bar.
Audrey Jo piped up, “I forgot to tell you that your room is up the stairs on the second floor.”
“My room?”
“Yeah, gotta have a place to sleep, so I said you could have my room and I’ll bunk with Ella.”
“Don’t wanna be a bother. I’m not much at sleeping in a bed. Spend most of my nights on the ground. I could go to the hotel or—”
“No!” Audrey Jo wiped a glass. “This is what we decided to do. We don’t close up until everybody is outta here, but your room’s upstairs. Last door on the…” She set the glass down and looked at one hand then the other. As though double-checking, she turned her right palm up, then her left, before continuing. “That’s right. Last door on the, uh, right. Yes, sir. On the right.” She went back on task.
Thanking her for the hospitality, Hayden finished his drink. He left all the coins on the bar and sauntered out.
The walk from the saloon to where his saddlebags were stored might give him enough time to figure out whether he needed to fish or cut bait. Right now his brain said to cut bait, but his heart said fish. Although he was more accustomed to having the ground for a mattress and the sky as his covers, a soft bed dadgum it sure sounded good.
Hayden stuck his hands in his pockets. His fingers touched the tissue paper wrapping the hair clip. Damn, he’d forgotten about the little gift, and he’d used up his allotment of restraint for the day. He couldn’t see the spitfire tonight because he’d for sure pull her into his arms and never let her go.
From what Dixie said, Ella had had a man walk out on her too many times, and he sure as hell was treading a very thin line as to whether he’d be the next.
Hayden took in the cool evening air.
No way in hell he’d let that happen.
A lot of unanswered questions rattled around in his brain. Rangers weren’t known to air their dirty laundry in public, reckoning a good man was in enough danger without rumors and half-assed truths gettin’ in his way.
So, how in the hell did Sheriff Oldham know Hayden had been suspended?
Chapter 8
Ella sat on the steps of her back porch and stared at the moon. Hazy shades of blood red settled against an ebony backdrop of darkness.
Taking a sip of coffee, she welcomed the slight breeze cutting across
the porch. One of the nice things about late summer, the unwavering heat of the day always surrendered into cool evenings.
A shadow crossed the yard, and she looked up to see Ranger McGraw ambling toward the shed. She drew in a breath. He was more alluring in the dark. Without his jacket, he looked even taller than she first thought. His gun belt hung low over tight fittin’ pants hugging slim hips. He walked in a cocky, authoritative saunter. This man projected vigor and command that undeniably fascinated her.
He picked up his saddlebags and threw them over his broad shoulder. The muscles rippling taut beneath his boiled white shirt quickened her heart.
“Good evening, Hayden.” She hoped he wouldn’t draw on her first and ask questions later; although she could bet her last jar of jelly that he knew exactly where she sat. He hadn’t survived this long as a lawman without a keen sense of awareness that would make a coyote jealous.
Hayden made a slow turn, taking a step in her direction. His dark Stetson shadowed his face, but she could see he was clean shaven and oh, so touchable.
He tipped his hat. “Evening, Little Lady.”
A smile curled on Ella’s lips, and she shook her head ever so slightly. No doubt he was testing her, and she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of a reaction. For some reason, maybe it was the effects of the relaxing end of a ghastly day, being called a little lady by this man didn’t seem patronizing. At least he hadn’t called her Puddin’ Cake!
“Lookin’ for Stewball, I believe you called him?”
“Yes, ma’am. Guess he’s wandered off again. Dang his hide.”
“Don’t blame him. Seems everybody took a shine to him and figured he needed something to eat.” She set the cup on the ledge. “Hope you don’t mind, but I carted him down the street to the livery so he could get some grain before he got all bloated up and ended up killing himself eatin’ carrots.” She hesitated, gathering her thoughts. “Anyway, I figured you didn’t plan on riding out this late…even if you came back.”
“Much obliged, ma’am. I appreciate you taking care of Stewball.” His grin flashed briefly as he stepped her way. “Mind if I sit a spell?”
His voice seemed to catch on the wind and linger before it lit on her. Now she could get a good look at his face. She’d seen other men like him who always sported a dark shadow even when they’d just walked out of the barbershop. He was definitely one of the rugged ones who had been cast that lot in life. He’d never be called clean shaven.
“Sure. How about some coffee and fresh bear claws?” She picked up her cup. “They’re still warm and the coffee’s hot.”
“The way to a man’s heart.” He extended his hand. “May I?” He helped her to her feet and escorted her inside, as though they were going to a fancy tea parlor after the opera.
Ten minutes later, Hayden’s Stetson hung on a nail next to Ella’s bonnet. She sat across from him at the kitchen table, watching him wash down the last bite of a bear claw with coffee. He tore into his second pastry. She couldn’t help but admire his total lack of shame for enjoying the food.
“Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying, if I could end every day eatin’ more of these, I’d marry you.”
Time stood still.
Sapphire blue eyes captured his piercing ebony ones, throwing them both off guard.
She raised a questioning eyebrow. “You mean, if I weren’t already married?”
The humor in their words made her giggle, which turned into a full, out-and-out expression of amusement. He joined in with his deep, warm, and rich belly laugh.
It felt good to enjoy the company of a man who wasn’t overbearing. Hayden McGraw made her feel more than good; he made her feel as a woman should. A husband with his wife, except for one hitch: he was only temporary. Kinda like an incarcerated spouse, kept at arm’s length, with iron bars separating them.
Ella studied his face. A tad bruised with life, but caressed by lots of sunrays. A half-moon scar imbedded in the dark stubble along his jawline made her pause with thought. Very intriguing. She let her imagination run wild, visualizing a mean-to-the-bones hombre looking for a fight, coming at Hayden with the butt of a Colt .45. After taking a whoopin’ from the lawman, the outlaw probably lay crumbled on the ground, sorry he chose her husband to fight.
Her husband!
Damn, her brains had turned to mush. Cornmeal mush. A huge bowl of nothing but saltless mush, with no sugar or butter to make it go down easier. Oh, but how easy Hayden would go down!
Her runaway mind was halted at full steam when Hayden’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “What? I’m sorry, I, uh…” Ella stammered.
“I was just saying that we need to talk about where we go from here,” he said.
“Go from here?”
“Sheriff Oldham made no bones that if we don’t make an effort to present ourselves as married to the community, he’ll take you back into custody.”
“But, he arrested me as a horse thief, and it was your horse, so surely you’re not pressing charges.”
“Of course not, but the sheriff still has assault charges on the plate, and he’s the one in control of them.” He wiped the sugar off his lips with a napkin. “And, Ella, I can’t do a thing about it, Ranger or not.”
Her heart sank. She knew he was right, but how could they manage to appear married when they both knew it was a flimsy ruse? On the other hand, if she had a choice between playing Sheriff Oldham’s game or being tossed in the pokey, she knew exactly which she’d prefer.
“I’ve really got us in a mess, haven’t I?”
“Seems we’re both in a jam, but we’ll get it worked out.” Hayden offered a strong, coy, sexy-as-heck smile. “Together.”
A short time later, Ella sat astonished as Hayden drained the last coffee from the pot and set two cups on the table. She couldn’t remember ever having a man wait on her. Do something without being asked.
He returned to his seat, and it was as though any barriers that had been between them melted away. They had talked nonstop, each throwing out on the table their thoughts about how to best handle the predicament they were in.
The one thing they both had no trouble agreeing on: they had to appear to be a happily married couple for the time being. Once Hayden’s assignment arrived, he would leave town to take care of his rangering duties, things would die down, and they could file for an annulment with little or no fanfare.
Agreed upon.
But Ella had a stipulation that must be addressed. And, a very big one. She swallowed, as if that would make the words come out smoother. “I promise to be the perfect wife, but…” The words hung in her throat. “Hayden, there’s one condition.”
He nodded, as though reading her mind.
“You can’t. I mean, we can’t…”
“Oh hell, Ella. After all you’re my wife, so surely you can say it.” He ran his hand through his hair. “We can’t share a bed, right?”
“Yes.” She gulped.
“Okay,” he said, as simply as if he were approving a sack of flour being added to a grocery order.
She wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or appreciative.
“Not until you want me there.” He looked into her eyes, all the way to her soul.
Ella saw a heart-rending promise in his gaze. She tried not to be affected by his declaration, or the images swirling around in her head, but found comfort in his words.
She cleared her throat. “It’s just a matter of law, Hayden. Keeping things uncomplicated. If we don’t, uh, consummate our marriage, we can get it annulled; otherwise, there’d be the embarrassment of a divorce and a lot of—”
“Messy explanations, I know.” He smiled. “It’s for the best, but there are some other things we need to clear the air about.”
“Anything.” She breathed a sigh of relief. After their talk about intimacy, anything would be better. “I asked you for a big concession, so it’s only fair that you ask for one.”
“I’ll save my request for later. Right now I need s
ome answers about the people working for you. How well do you know them?”
“Well enough…” She found herself impatiently tapping her foot. “Just what are you asking, Ranger McGraw?” His insinuation dug deep, and seemed to deflate the enjoyment she had been having with Hayden. She thought she’d made her support of her workers and friends clear at the town meeting.
“You know that Rangers get mail here—”
“Of course. It’s something Muley and my father were doing before he disappeared—a long time before I got here. I’ve been too busy trying to make a go of the business to get involved.”
“You couldn’t be around and not know some of the particulars,” Hayden said.
“All I know is that nobody in Buffalo Springs has the backbone to be seen down here, so mail isn’t delivered. They don’t want us up there, so every now and again a mail sack is left by somebody in the trunk of a downed cottonwood tree by the stream. I asked Muley why that site, and he said that was all I needed to know. He watches for mail and gives it only to the person who it is addressed to.”
“That location was chosen so the rider can follow the stream and not leave any tracks.” Hayden filled in the blanks.
“My father was always on the other side of the law, so I can’t imagine how he would knowingly help out the Rangers,” she said.
“You might never know, Ella.”
“You asked about the girls and Muley.” She changed the subject, as she’d spoken her father’s name more with Hayden than she had with anyone in a long time.
“If I’m gonna stick around, I need to know more about them.”
“Audrey Jo and Dixie worked for my father in Mobeetie. Dixie’s like a mother to me, and Audrey Jo is just herself. I can vouch for both of them.” She found herself tapping her nail on the table, as though punctuating her statement. “Muley was here when I arrived. He worked for my father and the women said I should trust him. I’ve been around saloons all of my life, and Muley is more reserved and shy, probably the most nonconfrontational bartender I’ve ever seen. He works his shift, eats a bite without saying any more than is necessary. I think he’d eat unsalted potatoes before he’d ask for a shaker to be passed to him.”
Give Me A Texas Ranger Page 22