"I warned you before about consequences, little girl," scolded Thorn. "You try anything like that again and you're going over my knee for a good spanking. In fact, if it wasn't for those men hearing you, I'm sure Boxcar would have already done it."
Mary gasped. "Spanking? You wouldn't dare! I'm too old for spanking, that's a child's punishment."
"No woman is ever too old for a spanking," retorted Thorn. "And if you think I wouldn't dare, just try me and see."
"You two are no gentlemen," Mary yelled. "I don't need your help to get to my mother, this I can do on my own!" She whipped the reins into her horse's hindquarters, and it jumped to a run, leaving them in the dust.
Thorn took off after her. "Meet me at the Gila pass by the river," he yelled over his shoulder to Boxcar. "That little senorita is about to get her butt whipped."
Boxcar followed, his patience wearing thin already. How had he ever thought he was attracted to Mary? Yes, she was lovely, but she was also a brat as it was turning out. Hardheaded and stubborn. She had refused to tell him and Thorn anything about the Heart of Mary, and he was sure she knew something. She wouldn't say why she wanted to see the governor, either. Maybe he was just getting old at the age of twenty-five or Mary was just too immature for him to deal with. Either way, she made him feel tired, and it was a long way to El Paso yet.
Thorn had been right about traveling with a hotheaded young girl. They had traveled with Callie Perkins a few years back and she had been determined to become a bounty hunter. Another young girl, way out of her league in trying to get revenge on her father's killer. He and Thorn had both had to spank sense into her.
Or maybe he was just more impatient than usual because Tilly was driving him crazy. He had gone into the diner to say goodbye but she had been very cool towards him. He had finally insisted on taking her upstairs above the diner to have a decent conversation with her, and she had still been distant. It was as if she was wearing a shell over her emotions that he couldn't penetrate or read through.
Exasperated, he had finally just asked her, point blank, "Do you need a spanking, Tilly?" Her eyes had become even more guarded, and she had snapped back at him.
"Of course, I don't need a spanking, I'm not a child." She had turned her back on him then, her slender neck seeming so vulnerable. Her hair was up on top of her head, and the pale column with the tendrils of dark curls hanging below the hairline drew him like a bee to a honey pot. He had kissed her gently, feeling her shiver as his lips continued to plant hungry kisses along that silken flesh until she had turned and frantically kissed him back.
She had never told him she loved him, and he hadn't told her, either, but he thought she knew. Neither of them was ready for a commitment.
They had made passionate love after he told her they were leaving again, and she had said nothing while he caressed and kissed her bare shoulders, then worked his way down her back while he removed her clothes. Tilly loved her back kissed, it always made her shiver and gasp with delight. At last, he had shed his clothes and bent her over with her hands on the bed to take her from behind. His hands had alternating between holding her in place and spanking her with stinging slaps that made her dance and moan. He knew she liked to be spanked in that way, and he loved to do it. Her bottom warmed and turned a delicious shade of hot pink as his manhood slid slowly in and out, building to a crescendo that would only end with both of them satiated and limp.
But it had been the damnedest thing when he had asked her about Nelson. She had shot him a mysterious smile and admitted they were having dinner together later. Then she had wished him a good trip and ushered him out the door. It had left him with a very unsettling feeling. The thought of her with Nelson made his blood boil.
He had tried to get frisky with the pretty Elise earlier at Fanny's place, but it just hadn't worked. Not that he wanted to cheat on Tilly, he didn't. But was it cheating? She sure seemed to have her share of time with other men, but she wouldn't admit anything. He hadn't been able to make love to anyone else since he had met her, and he had hoped it was the same for her, but was it?
His thoughts were interrupted as he made his way down to the river where Thorn was hauling Mary over his lap for a well-deserved spanking. Better Thorn than him, he decided grimly. With the mood he was in, Mary might get a whole lot more than she really deserved! While Mary was getting her just desserts, he would look around. Knowing Thorn, he had directed them here for a reason, probably to do with the dead man those two were dragging along. He dismounted and started scanning the area.
"I told you not to test me, little girl," growled Thorn as he laid into the seat of Mary's pants.
"I hate you, let me go," screamed Mary, beating with her fists into his legs. No matter how she twisted and turn, he just kept on spanking her, never missing her rounded bottom cheeks. The burn was getting awful. Desperate for the spanking to stop, she reached down and bit him on the thigh, and her fury turned to satisfaction when the hard hand suddenly relented. Alas, her reprieve didn't last long.
"That just earned you a bare bottom," roared Thorn reaching under her waist to undo her pants. He wasted no time in yanking the pants down and opening the pantaloons wide to allow him unfettered access to her cheeky backside. He began to spank her with a very heavy hand.
Mary screamed in agony instead of temper this time as Thorn's hard palm turned her pink bottom a deep shade of red. He reiterated what Boxcar had told her earlier about keeping her safe as she wailed and clutched at his pants leg. The only good thing about men's pants on a woman was that she couldn't kick her legs very well, and he took full advantage of it. She was choking on sobs and blubbering, "I'm sorry I'm sorry," when he finally pulled her up and handed her a handkerchief to wipe her face and nose.
"Now then, you going to run off again?" he asked harshly, breathing hard from his exertions. He had really laid into her, and she was going to be sore trying to ride, but she hadn't left him any choice.
"N-no...I won't," she cried, valiantly trying to pull herself together.
Thorn knew she would be embarrassed once the immediate pain passed so he eased her pants back up over her scalded bottom. "Fix your clothes while Boxcar and I look around. Bill and Henry found that man here, and I want to see if there is anything that might tell us who he was and why he was after you."
Keeping an eye on Mary, he went to talk to Boxcar. "You find anything? That man was missing his boots."
Boxcar frowned. "Nothing, except evidence that there has been more than one person here in the last day or so. Probably Bill and Henry messed up any tracks the killer might have left. Didn't find a pair of boots, though."
"As I'm sure you've already guessed, he's the other half of the two that came into Fanny's last night. He had on the red brocade vest Fanny described to you but I didn't find anything on him. I told those two to take him back to Holden. Weird about his boots, though, they said he was missing them when they found him."
Boxcar nodded thoughtfully. "So, whoever hired him decided he was a loose end and shut him up."
"Looks that way," agreed Thorn.
They stood together, watching Mary as she sat on the soft grass still sobbing softly and ignoring them.
"You were kind of hard on her, don't you think?" Boxcar chewed on a piece of grass, finally feeling a little sorry for the girl.
"She had it coming," replied Thorn with a grimace. "The little brat bit me."
Boxcar choked back a laugh. "That's the funniest damn thing I've heard all day."
"Wouldn't be so funny if it was you." Thorn rubbed his thigh. "As hard as she bit me, I'm surprised there isn't a hole in my pants."
"With that wild red hair, her temper was bound to come out sooner or later. Better you than me, old buddy." His humor somewhat restored, Boxcar went down to sit on the log beside Mary.
Mary stiffened but wouldn't look at him. She dabbed at her eyes again and blew her nose.
Boxcar put his arm around the young girl and drew her head down onto his s
houlder, where she instantly burst into helpless sobs once again. Even if she was a hellion, she deserved some comfort. "It's all right, Mary, we're going to get through this, if you'll just let us keep you safe. Thorn's a hard man but he means well."
"I-I hate him," she sobbed. "No one has ever spanked me before. I'm hurting so bad—how am I supposed to ride a horse?"
Boxcar chuckled. "It's not going to be comfortable for a while, but you'll manage. You brats always do when you have to. You shouldn't have bit him, that was your undoing."
She looked up at him in protest, her eyes overflowing with tears. "But he was going to spank me!"
"And you would have been better off to take your punishment and keep your teeth to yourself." He smiled at her and patted her back gently. "My father used to say—when you got it coming, just bend over and take it. Any back talk and you'll just get more." He spoke in a deeper gruffer voice in imitation of his absent father and winked at her.
Mary giggled then and shot him a watery smile. Finally, she breathed in a series of those hiccupping breaths that signaled the worst of her trauma was over and exhaled slowly. They sat like that for a few minutes until Boxcar decided to try again with a few questions.
Chapter Seven
Boxcar noticed that Mary seemed in a more amenable mood than she had been at Clary's. Funny how a good spanking did that with women. Maybe Thorn was right, maybe he needed to just give Tilly a good old fashioned spanking until she melted penitently in his arms. Impatiently, he shook off his musings of Tilly. He needed to concentrate on the here and now; being distracted could get a man killed.
"Mary, I know you don't want to talk about the Heart of Mary ruby, but we believe you might know something about it." He felt her stiffen beside him. He turned to look at her. "We also think that these men who are coming after you think you know, too. Is there anything you can tell us to help you? You can trust me and Thorn."
Mary hesitated as she studied his face. He smiled encouragingly.
"Well—I don't know much," she began slowly, but I guess maybe I can trust you. All I really know is that Mama said my papa had left something for me that I was supposed to get when I came of age. That would be twenty-one, of course. And that I was supposed to go to the governor, if anything happened to her before then. She said he would make it right."
Boxcar's brows drew together in a perplexed fashion. "How would he make it right?"
Her eyes slid away from him, and Boxcar knew she was holding back. "How was the governor supposed to make it right, Mary?" he insisted gently, turning her head back to look him in the face. "What are you leaving out?"
Her eyes pleaded with him. "Please, Senor Boxcar, I-I can't tell you the rest. My mama tell me I was never, ever to tell anyone but the governor." She fingered the gold locket around her neck nervously, and Boxcar's eyes were drawn to it. She had done that before when they had questioned her. Was it a nervous habit or did the locket have something to do with it?
"Can I see your locket, Mary?" he asked gently, placing his hands over her fingers and the locket together.
She gasped and pulled away. "No, it's mine, you can't have it."
"I don't want your locket; I just want to see it. It's beautiful, and I'm not sure I've seen one like it before. Does it open?"
Mary looked down at the locket and finally nodded. "Si, it opens. It has a picture of my mother and a friend of hers inside it. But that's all, nothing else." She hesitated and then reached around her neck to undo the locket. "I guess you can look at it, just don't try to keep it."
Boxcar could see she was telling the truth. "Now, what would I want with a girl's locket?" he asked with a chuckle. Mary dropped it in his hand, and he turned it over, thoroughly inspecting the outside cover.
Thorn had wandered over and was watching them with interest. He moved closer and sat beside Mary, although she moved closer to Boxcar when he did so. He grimaced and shook his head.
Once Boxcar had checked out the back of the locket and the chain, he pushed the button on the side that unlocked it. It sprang open, revealing two small, somewhat faded oval pictures, one in each side of the locket. "Which one is your mother?" he asked gently, not wanting to spook her.
"This one," replied Mary, pointing proudly to the picture on the left. "The other one is her friend from a long time ago. She said Anna died in a fire, and she had been like a sister to her. I guess she gave her the locket because they had been so close."
"Does Anna have a last name?" asked Thorn, staring at the small oval. He looked up at Boxcar. They could see that both Anna and Mary's mother were wearing what looked like a nun's habit on their heads. If fact, the features of their faces looked almost identical. Or was it just the folds in the paper?
Mary shook her head. "Si, it was Martinez. She said it was a long time ago and that she had worn the locket all these years. She gave it me when I was thirteen and told me to never take it off."
"But she told you to give it to the governor, didn't she?" Thorn guessed.
"Si," she replied, finally, with a nod and a sigh. "She said he would know what to do with it."
"This is it? Are you sure?" asked Thorn. "This is all you have to do? You don't have anything else for him?"
Mary glanced nervously at him and then moved closer again to Boxcar. "I-I can't tell you what she said to tell him. She said I must never speak of it to anyone but the governor. I promised her, I wouldn't."
Boxcar handed her back the locket and put his arm around her trembling shoulders. "It's all right, Mary, we don't want you to break a promise to your mother. Those are important promises," he soothed as he patted her back. "Thank you for letting us look at it."
Thorn stood up and ran a hand through his dark hair, letting the breeze cool his head. He was frustrated, but Boxcar had, once again, seemed to, magically, get a woman to do what he wanted. At least now, they had some clues to go on, regarding the ruby. Mary didn't realize it, but she had given away a lot when she let them look at the locket. He supposed he should take the locket from her because that might be what those men were after, but he didn't have the heart. That would really set her off, and he didn't want to paddle her again today.
He squinted at the horizon, judging they had about four hours of daylight left. "Come on," he said gruffly, jamming his hat back on. "Boxcar, I'm going to scout ahead and make sure no one is claim jumping the place I have in mind to settle for the night. You keep an eye on Mary. We'll ride for the next hour or two and then hold over till morning. You know the spot."
Boxcar nodded. "Come on, Mary, we have some riding to do." He held out his hand and she stood up stiffly. He was glad for her sake that they only had a couple of hours to go before they reached the rock shelter that he and Thorn used when they came this way. It gave them a view of the road but was far enough away that no one from the road could see them. With a rock wall behind them, no one would sneak up on them, either. He hadn't seen any fresh Indian tracks so far, but Thorn would check that out as he moved ahead but still within the sound of a gunshot.
Mary hissed when she sat slowly down in her saddle. "I don't think I can ride like this, Senor Boxcar," she complained, tears in her eyes. "It hurts!"
Taking pity on her, he brought his bedroll blanket over. "Stand up in the stirrups," he said. When she did so, he set the folded blanket across the hard leather saddle and patted it, indicating that she sit down. "Don't let Thorn see this blanket," he chuckled as she gently lowered herself back in the saddle and sighed softly.
"What he doesn't know won't hurt me," she declared, then grinned conspiratorially at Boxcar. "Many thanks, Senor."
Suddenly, Mary was attractive again, and Boxcar admired the way the lack of hair around the plain brown hat made her eyes stand out like huge green pools. With those long eyelashes fringing them, it would be hard to tell she wasn't a girl, but then he didn't expect anyone to look close. The baggy boy's clothes hid her trim figure, and the leather vest helped even further to disguise the soft mounds of her bre
asts. It wasn't a perfect disguise but good enough. "Don't let the blanket slide sideways," he warned and winked at her. "I'll need that tonight."
* * *
The thin sheers of the open window wafted in and out in the gentle night breeze coming in the window of the upstairs room in the Sleepy Inn. It was well into the evening in Potluck, and most of the town citizens had settled down. It was quiet, nothing stirring.
Standing to the side of the heavy drapes, he watched Fanny's place, keeping an eye out for any furtive movements signaling that someone might be trying to sneak in. The girl had to be here. Mace and Jesse had followed her after the drovers left El Paso and knew she had doubled back. Damn Mace for killing Jesse! That had forced him to kill Mace, and he hadn't liked that. He couldn't take the risk of him being captured, though; too many witnesses could describe him.
He took another drag off the cigarette he held in his hand, the smoke spiraling his head as he exhaled slowly. It helped him think. How had that brat managed to hide here for the last few days without anyone seeing her? You couldn't miss that bright red mane of hers; she would stand out like a beacon.
He was so close, he could feel it. He'd been tracking that ruby for years now, following dead end after dead end, but now he knew he was on the verge of finding it. That stupid Frank had beaten his Spanish whore to death, and now, he had no choice left but to follow the girl.
He should have killed Frank when he had the chance. Selling the girl to that sick pedophile had cost him Maria Vargis, and now, the greedy bastard not only had the money, but he wanted the brat back so he could sell her again. He couldn't allow that, and as soon as he had the chance, Frank would be out of his way for good. Children should be off limits, anyway.
It was too bad he'd had to kill Mace, he could have sent him back to El Paso to get rid of Frank, once and for all. As soon as he had the girl, he'd take care of it himself. Frank insisted he'd married the brat's mother, and that idiot, Sheriff Hamden, was inclined to believe it. Once Frank was gone, though, there would no one to stand in his way.
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