by Jodi Thomas
Austin took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to hurt the boy, just make sure he’s somewhere safe.” Austin could tell by the way she still tugged, trying to free her hand, that she didn’t believe him.
Suddenly, he admired her very deeply. Anyone who looked at her could tell she was a fine woman, unaccustomed to lying. Hell, she probably carried a Bible everywhere with her. But she was willing to lie to protect a child. A child she claimed wasn’t even hers. A barrier cracked around his heart that he’d held tightly in place since his brother died years ago.
“I need to know …” His words were more to himself than her. “Because I remember how it felt to be out in the world at that age. I know how cruel people can be when they think of you as no more than a maggot.” He was no longer looking at her, but into the darkness, into his past. “I know how hard it is to tell good folks from the bad when they’re all twice your height. You’d be surprised how often a handout comes with strings. If the child’s not yours, I want to know that he’s all right.”
“You were alone at True’s age?”
“No.” Austin looked away from her into the shadows. “I had a brother a year older. At least we had each other until he died just before the war.”
“Was he all that was left of your family?”
“Yes.” His answer was emotionless now as he pulled himself back to the present.
Jennie’s fingers tightened slowly over his arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Austin didn’t look at her. “I didn’t tell you to hear how sorry you were. I told you so you’d understand why I need to know if the boy is all right. If he’s not with you, I plan to look for him and keep looking until I find him. I don’t think I can sleep tonight unless I know he’s at least warm and safe.”
Jennie moved closer to Austin. Somehow in the darkness she could see the lonely little boy in the shadow of the man. “True’s warm and safe,” she whispered. “And the handout has no strings tied to it.”
The marshal nodded once. “I’m glad.” He pulled his hat low so that even in the faint light only blackness covered his face. “Could we make a deal, Jennie? I’ll ask no more questions, if you’ll promise to let me know if the boy needs anything.”
Jennie smiled. She could see the knight’s armor shining again beneath the hard crust of this lawman. “Deal.”
Austin suddenly seemed nervous. “We best get back.” He turned toward the hotel.
“Yes,” Jennie answered. “It’s getting cold.” She couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Now that the marshal had said what he needed to say, her one-and-only stroll with a man was over.
Austin stopped and lifted her hand from his arm. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it over her shoulders. “I’m sorry.” His voice tumbled over the words. “I should have noticed you didn’t have on a coat.”
Jennie stared at him in disbelief. Never had a man been so kind to her. She warmed, not from the feel of leather, but from his action.
They walked in silence all the way to the back door of the hotel. He could have taken her in the main entrance, but they both seemed to agree silently to say good night in the shadows.
When she took the first step, she turned, trying to think of what to say. She didn’t want to leave him, but there seemed no more words.
Finally breaking the silence, he said, “I enjoyed the walk.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets. “I don’t suppose you’d want to walk with me again sometime?”
“Why?” Jennie asked. She was old enough to know things were usually not as simple as they seemed.
Austin removed his hat. “I guess I’d like to talk to you some more.”
Jennie couldn’t hold the giggle. “Oh.” They’d spent most of the walk in silence.
Austin shifted from one foot to the other. Damn if this woman didn’t have a way of crawling under his skin and tying up his nerves. “I’m probably not the kind of man who usually asked you out back home.”
“No,” Jennie answered. She assumed the marshal wasn’t asking because he was interested in her. There had to be another reason. Maybe he wanted to find out more about True, or maybe he’d seen Delta’s wound and knew, as she had with one look, that it hadn’t been caused by a gunshot.
Jennie had to know the truth. She wasn’t some young girl who wanted to dream of what a man might think. She moved closer. With her feet on the first step, she was almost at eye level with him. “If we go walking again, Marshal McCormick, what would be the purpose?”
She was so close he could feel her breath brush the collar of his shirt. She smelled of soap and cinnamon and woman. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d stood this close to a desirable woman. “Jennie …,” he whispered and saw the question in her emerald eyes. “Jennie.”
All his life he’d acted with logic, but she was drowning his senses like hundred-year-old moonshine. Before he let reason rule him, Austin pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth over hers.
His kiss was hard and demanding, the only way he’d ever known. Before he touched her, he hadn’t really thought much about how she’d feel in his arms, but now he knew—she felt perfect. He realized he’d wanted to kiss her from the moment he’d seen her sitting alone on the train so proper and untouchable. Her back might be overstarched, but her lips were made for kissing … full, warm and inviting.
His hands circled her slender waist and lifted her off the step as he continued. She felt so good pressed against him. Austin fought the urge to pull the ribbon from her hair and see how far her ebony mane would tumble. Her lips were soft and yielding beneath his mouth, yet every muscle in her body remained flexed.
As he traced the outline of her bottom lip with his tongue, he wondered how long it would take the fire he was kindling to move through her body. She would be paradise to hold when she melted with passion. She’d be the kind of woman to make every dream he’d ever had come alive.
“Relax, Jennie,” he whispered against her cheek. “Kiss me back.”
“I’m waiting for you to stop.”
Austin pulled an inch away and looked down at her. “You’re not enjoying this?” He didn’t think of himself as much of a ladies’ man, but the few women he’d kissed hadn’t complained. Jennie looked at him with repulsion, as if she were watching a wolf spider crawling across her bare toes.
He set her back on her feet and fought to keep anger from exploding in his words. “Why didn’t you push me away if my kiss was so unpleasant?” The light from the kitchen reflected in her eyes and showed curiosity, but no passion, and her cold look wounded him dearly. “Hell, Jennie, I thought you were just standing there waiting to be kissed. Now you look at me like I did something terrible by taking you up on your offer.”
“I’ve never been kissed before.” Her voice shook slightly, but her eyes stared hard at him.
“I find that hard to believe. If ever I’ve met a woman with a mouth meant to be tasted, it’s you, Jennie.” He didn’t know why she was lying, but he hated her for it. “You must come from a town long on idiots and short on passion, or you’re lying to me again. I’m afraid I’ll have to believe you’re lying.”
She didn’t want to explain why she’d never been kissed. She wanted kindness, not a cross-examination. Since he was the only man who’d ever tried, she tended to believe he was the shortsighted one, not every other man in the world.
“What made you think you had a right to kiss me, Marshal? I don’t understand. Have I done or said anything that made you think I would welcome such an advance?” She tried to pull away from his grip. “I’d like to know so that I can be careful not to repeat the behavior.”
Austin lowered his hands from around her waist. “No, ma’am. I guess I was out of line. Would you like to slap me, or shall I slap myself, Miss Munday?” In truth he felt like a fool. Her words had already hit him harder than her hand ever could. The passion he thought he’d seen banked in those emerald eyes was false. Jennie apparently had no more warmth in her th
an a tumbleweed in January. Oh, she’d tasted good, all right, but Austin decided it would be a cold day in hell before he came back for another sampling.
“Good night,” he blurted, suddenly in a hurry to be out of her sight.
“Good night.” Jennie turned and climbed the stairs. She made it all the way to the landing before tears started falling.
“My family would have been proud of me,” she whispered. “I showed no emotion.” Fighting down the sobs, she straightened. “Then why do I feel so empty inside?” she wondered. “Why couldn’t I have kissed him back?”
“Jennie!” someone shouted from the back staircase landing. “Jennie, is that you?”
“Yes.” Jennie forgot her troubles and ran toward the sound of Audrey’s voice. “Is something wrong? Is Delta worse?”
“No,” Audrey answered as Jennie reached the top of the stairs. “It’s True.”
“Did Mrs. Gray find him? Is he sick?”
“No.” Audrey pulled Jennie into their room. “I cut his hair and went down the hall to get the water for his bath. When I came back, he was gone.”
“But where?”
“I don’t know. It’s been hours and I’ve looked everywhere.”
Jennie pulled the marshal’s jacket tighter around her shoulders. “We have to find the boy.”
Audrey shook her head. “I’ve seen kids like him before. They know how to take care of themselves. If he doesn’t want us to find him, we might as well not waste the energy looking.”
“But …”
“But I’ve already been to town and back looking and it’s too late to walk the road again.”
Jennie knew Audrey was right. “He’ll come back.” She tried to make herself believe her words.
“Of course,” Audrey agreed. “He’ll be back when he gets hungry.”
Chapter 8
As he walked the back alleys of Florence, Austin cursed himself for kissing Jennie good night. He’d told Sheriff Morris that he’d make a late check of the town. From the way he was feeling, he figured he’d have time to circle the little settlement ten times before his anger settled down enough for him even to trust himself around anything but a grizzly bear.
She was driving him mad, he decided as he crossed soundlessly between two buildings. He almost wished Buck Lawton and his gang would show up tonight. He’d take all twenty of them on single-handedly if it would help put her out of his mind. She had such a soft-sounding name. Jennie. The kind of name men made up songs about out on the trail, to settle the herd. But her name didn’t match the way she made him feel, be it anger or need. She was the first woman who’d made his solitary life seem more a curse than a blessing.
She’d gotten more upset that he didn’t believe her lie about never being kissed than she had about him actually kissing her. Did she think him simpleminded? No woman who looked like she did, with hair of midnight and eyes the color of evergreen, could have reached full growth without men fighting over her.
How many times had he told himself he’d never care for a woman who lied, and as near as he could tell it was a universal trait of the gender.
Austin circled the depot and headed back toward town, trying not even to look in the direction of the Harvey House. Paying little notice of the leaves blowing across the road or the crackle of winter sounding behind him, he moved through the night.
He wasn’t about to care for her, he thought. Not if she were the last woman west of the Mississippi. Not if she came to him and begged him to forgive her for lying. Miss Jennie Munday could wait until she was old and gray before he’d bother to kiss her again.
“Evenin’, McCormick,” Spider Morris whispered as they passed the lights of the Harvey House.
Austin jerked so violently he almost tripped. “Where’d you come from!”
Morris laughed away Austin’s question. “I’ve been walking in your tracks a spell now. Hell, if I’d have had a mind to, I could have tattooed the stars and bars on your back for all the notice you’ve paid.”
“I knew you were there.”
Spider waved his defense away and pulled an ancient pipe from his pocket. “Sure you did, son. You were just interested in my heritage when you almost fell over your feet there. Tell me, how’d you live so long in Texas without getting bushwacked?”
Austin knew the old man well enough to realize that he might as well take the ribbing quietly or he’d never hear the end of it. “I guess I got more on my mind than usual.”
Spider Morris sucked on his pipe stem while he cradled his rifle in his arms. “I feel the same. I don’t know what it is, but I can almost taste trouble in the air.”
Austin thought of reminding Morris that any taste was probably coming from the wool and tobacco in his pocket, but he knew what the old man meant. After a while a lawman developed a sense for danger. For no reason at all, he’d tighten his muscles and walk a bit softer. Austin couldn’t remember how many times the feeling had passed over him strong enough to make him check the bullets in his Colt, or untie the leather holding his rifle in place on his saddle.
Spider lit his pipe. “It was a night almost like this one six years ago when Buck Lawton and his gang robbed the train. The six-fifteen out of Kansas City was late that night. Some gamblers from Dodge had been up to the city for a high-stakes card game. Talk was the game had run all day and all that night when they decided to move the table down to Dodge. The gamblers boarded the train planning to make it to Wichita by dark.”
When Morris seemed more interested in smoking his pipe than continuing, Austin asked, “And the train was robbed near here?”
Morris nodded as he smoked. “I think Buck planned to rob it anyway for the strongbox, but the quarter million in table stakes the gamblers carried made it all that much sweeter a pie.”
“But from what I’ve seen of gamblers, they don’t part with their stakes that easily.”
“That’s what Buck found out. By the time the firing stopped, half of Lawton’s men were dead and most of the gamblers. Buck never made it back to the car carrying the strongbox, but he did get the gambling money. Afterwards none would say just how much money was on the table, and we never even found the carpetbag the robbers stuffed the money into.”
Austin was interested, but not in any treasure hunt for lost millions. Stories about hidden gold and lost mines were the fabric of legends worn only by fools. “So why Buck’s hatred for Florence?”
“That’s what puzzled me some.” Spider Morris dusted his ashes on the road and tried refilling his pipe. “Oh, we hunted him down, but he wasn’t hard to catch with a bullet in his leg and another wedged in his cheekbone. He seemed to take it real personal when we sentenced him to life.”
Austin laughed. “Puzzles me, too. After all, you only sent him to jail for the rest of his days. Why should he be mad?”
Morris rubbed his week-old beard, rearranging whiskers in every direction. “No, it wasn’t that. It was like he hated not just the folks who caught and tried him, but the whole town. I could see it in his eyes. He’ll never lose that kind of hate until Florence is in ashes.”
“But why?”
The old sheriff shrugged. “When we caught him, one of the posse said he was with a woman dressed in black traveling clothes. In the fighting she disappeared. Some say she took the money; others say she broke Buck’s heart by not even showing up at the trial. There was even talk that she was wounded when she ran.”
“Maybe we’ll find out if he returns,” Austin said.
“When he returns,” Morris corrected. “He’ll be back, and when he comes, we’d better be ready for him. I got a feeling all hell is gonna break out in this town.”
A movement in the shadows beside the dry goods store made both men stop in midstep. Austin silently eased his Colt from leather. He motioned for the sheriff to wait while he moved in closer. Morris raised his rifle with polished skill, showing that his dislike for guns hadn’t corroded his instinct.
Slowly Austin removed the first box.
“Might as well come out now and save me the trouble of moving all this trash.”
Spider laughed. “You’re going to be real sorry you said that if there’s a skunk behind there.”
“Any critter would have had sense enough to be real still or run before now. Whoever, or whatever, is in this trash is courting a bullet.” He knocked another box free from the pile, and it rattled across the alley.
A minute hung in silence. Austin raised his hand to remove the next box, but something moved near his feet. He stepped back as a tiny child crawled from the trash. The same child he’d glimpsed on the train, only slightly cleaner now and with short hair.
“I ain’t no critter.” True stood tall. “Name’s True, and I weren’t bothering nobody. Can’t a body get some sleep without having the law knocking the door down?”
Austin allowed no emotion to show in his face. “Not much of a door.”
“Ain’t much of a house, but it was this or sleeping at the Harvey House, where they seem to think bathing is healthy for a body. Henry told me I’d be safe enough here. Guess he didn’t know about you two.”
“Henry?” Austin looked around for someone. “Who’s Henry?”
“He’s this boy I met yesterday.” True watched both lawmen carefully. “Can’t say if he’s a friend yet. I already had to beat him up once today.”
Morris couldn’t resist joining in the conversation. Old men and children seemed natural allies. “If you don’t mind me asking, True, why’d you have to beat up this poor fellow Henry?”
True pulled on oversized pants. “‘Cause he made fun of me not knowing how old I am. He says he’s eight, but I’m littler so I must be five or six. I sat on him and kept hitting him in the face until he said I could be eight, too.”
Morris tried to hide his laughter. “And where is this friend, Henry?”
“He’s got a home he has to go to when it gets dark.”
Austin didn’t miss the longing in True’s voice. He watched the child closely as he asked, “But you have Jennie Munday and the Harvey House.”