Georgina Gentry - To Tease a Texan

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by To Tease a Texan (lit)


  Damn him, he was a perfect gentleman. Too bad at this moment he wasn’t more like his rascal brother. She had a terrible need to be gathered into his strong embrace and kissed and kissed some more.

  To break the awkward silence, she turned and looked out over the distant prairie. “Yes, this is beautiful out here.”

  “Ain’t it, though? Some of them Yankee girls might not appreciate the big ocean of plains we got here, but a Texas girl does.”

  “I like it—I like it a lot.” She wished he’d reconsider and kiss her, but she didn’t think he could be pushed into doing that by the threat of Apache torture. What would he think if she grabbed him and kissed him? She quickly vetoed that idea, since no doubt he would be shocked out of his boots.

  Lawrence sighed. “I been savin’ my money, but a lawman don’t make much. That valley’s for sale, and I’d like to buy it and start ranchin’. Even though it’s cheap, it’s a little out of my reach.”

  She stared out at the valley in the moonlight. “How come it’s cheap, with the railroad coming in and all?”

  He shrugged. “Well, the land’s so poor, it’d take three people to raise a fuss on it. Then, too, some of it has that dirty old oil seepin’ up and ruining the land for grazin’. It wouldn’t be good for nothin’.”

  “I know what you mean.” She nodded sympathetically. “My uncle has some land with the same problem. He’s tried to sell it, but nobody wants oily land you can’t graze cattle on.”

  “You ready to go in, ma’am? We stay out here much longer, folks will talk.”

  “Yes.” She wished he’d done something worth gossiping about. She took his arm. It was muscular and warm. She felt it tense when she took it. She could swear he was trembling. She heard him gulp awkwardly. Why, the poor shy thing. She’d have to be gentle with him or he’d never get around to kissing her. She was falling in love with him already.

  “Yep.” He turned and looked toward the barn. “I reckon we’d better go. Wouldn’t want to besmirch your reputation by keepin’ you out here too long.”

  She looked around at the cactus and sand burrs. Did he really think anyone would think they were lying on the ground making passionate love? Why, there were probably scorpions and maybe a tarantula or two. She looked up at him and batted her eyelashes slowly, licking her lips. Maybe she could get him to try to steal one little kiss. “I’m sure you’re right, Sheriff.”

  She heard his sharp intake of breath and saw sweat break out on his forehead. She felt almost as if she were attempting to seduce the tall, courtly lawman. They started walking back toward the barn.

  “Maybe—I mean, do you think I could take you for a buggy ride sometime?”

  “Certainly. I’d love that.” A few hours ago, she’d been ready to clear out of this sleepy town first chance she got, and now….

  From inside, the music drifted. She recognized the tune: “Red River Valley.” “…from this valley they say you are going,” she sang softly, “we’ll miss your bright eyes and sweet smile…”

  “Miss Van Schuyler, I reckon you don’t mind me sayin’ you got a purty voice—sound good as a bobwhite quail.”

  They paused outside the barn door.

  “Why, thank you, Lawrence.” She smiled at him, touched by his humble sincerity. What a fine man. He’d make some girl a good husband. Husband? Are you loco, Lark? You’re on the run, accused of being an accessory to a bank robbery, and you’re thinking how it would be to marry a sheriff? What do you think he’d say if he found out and had to lock you up in the hoosegow? On the other hand, what better place for a wanted felon to hide than in the house of the local sheriff?

  Lark said, “I’ve got to be able to support myself. Do you suppose there’s any jobs available for a woman in Rusty Spur?”

  “A job?” He blinked. “Why, Miss Lacey, women don’t work much here except those at the Cross-eyed Bull Saloon, and the kind of work they do…” His voice trailed off and she actually saw his face turn scarlet. “Never mind, ma’am, a lady wouldn’t know about such goings-on.”

  Lawrence Witherspoon would faint if he knew she used to serve drinks at the Last Chance, one of the toughest dives in Oklahoma Territory. She wondered if she could keep him from ever finding out about that. Somehow, this shy sheriff’s opinion meant a great deal to her. “I was raised on a ranch,” she said. “I can rope and ride and shoot.”

  He laughed. “That’d be right handy on your own place,” he said. “Help a husband out if he couldn’t afford hired hands at first, but no Texan is gonna give a lady a job as a cowhand.”

  She had a terrible urge to kick him in the shins for his male superiority. No, someplace higher up. “Do you suppose the general store would be needing a clerk?”

  He stopped and seemed to think it over. “Mr. Snootley might like that fine, but his wife wouldn’t. ’Course, she ain’t here half the time—always running off to Abilene to visit her sister or to buy pretties like dresses and hats.”

  An idea came to her. “You know, I used to work in a millinery shop. Do you think there’d be a need for that here?”

  His rugged face brightened. “Well, now, there might be, Miss Lacey, what with the train comin’ soon and more people movin’ to town. Mrs. Snootley is always complainin’ that she has to go off to shop ’cause her husband won’t carry much in the way of pretties for ladies. He says there ain’t enough call for it.”

  “Land’s sake, there might be, once the train gets here with new settlers.” Abruptly, she thought of something and wilted. “Oh, I just remembered, I don’t have any capital to start up a shop. Maybe the bank—”

  “Oh, we ain’t got a bank,” he told her. “Folks around now just tuck their savings under their mattresses. But we’re bound to grow. The mayor is talkin’ about advertisin’ in some big-city papers to see if we can get a banker interested in movin’ here.”

  Lark considered for a long moment. She could certainly borrow the money from Uncle Trace. After all, the Durango spread was one of the biggest in Texas. However, she was too proud to ask, and she didn’t intend to come out of hiding until she could be as admired as her twin sister. If she had a successful shop and a handsome husband, she’d be proud to return home in triumph. Of course, there was still the little matter of the bank robbery….

  “Are you worried, Miss Lacey?” The big man took both of her small hands in his large ones gently but awkwardly. “I reckon you’d be too proud to ask, but I got a few dollars put aside for that ranch.” He lowered his voice. “I’d be right proud to help you out some.”

  “I couldn’t take your money, Lawrence. You hardly know me.”

  He grinned and looked bashful, scuffing the toe of his boot in the dust. “I reckon I know all I need to know. You’re a fine, honest, upstanding person, Miss Lacey. I’d trust you with my money.”

  Oh, if this sweet, gentle man only knew. She winced at how innocent he was and then loved him for it. “Oh, I don’t think I could—”

  “Don’t make a decision right now, ma’am,” he urged. “Think on it some.”

  “But it’s your ranch money,” she said, aghast, “and the shop might not make it.”

  He looked deep into her eyes. “Ma’am,” he drawled, “that don’t make me no never mind. I just know I can trust you. Some folks just have an honest look about them, and I know you’re that kind.”

  At that moment, she wished she were everything this wonderful man thought she was. This was a real man—the kind of man she’d been looking for all her life. How ironic that he was a twin to the biggest rascal who ever sat at a poker table. She blinked back tears as she reached up and touched his handsome, rugged face. “Lawrence, I’ll think about it, all right? There’s a lot to consider.”

  He grinned at her in the moonlight. In that moment, he looked exactly like his brother, but of course he had so much more character. “I—I like you a lot, Miss Lacey. I’m glad now my friends put that ad in the paper.”

  “I think I am too. Now let’s go in and da
nce, Lawrence, then I’ll let you drive me back to the hotel. It’s been a long, long day.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled and took her into the barn, where they danced a waltz. He felt rigid as a spring against her, but she felt safe and protected in his embrace. She would be safe with Lawrence Witherspoon, forever safe in his arms. She allowed herself to be swept away by the music as they danced, even though she knew that townspeople smiled and nodded and whispered. Let them, she thought. After all, I may just be staying in this isolated town.

  When the dance ended, Lawrence tied his horse behind the buggy, put Paco, little Jimmy, and Mrs. Bottoms in the backseat, then offered a sweaty hand to Lark, as if he thought she were going to bite him. She put her small hand in his and lifted her skirt with her other hand, making ready to step up into the buggy. At that point, she caught her foot in the hem of her dress and almost fell. The sheriff caught her and lifted her up into the seat. “Are you hurt?” His rugged face was gentle with earnest concern.

  “I’m fine.”

  My, what a far cry from his dastardly brother, who had fled the bank robbery in a most ungentlemanly fashion, leaving her to deal with the law.

  She smiled at him. He was almost too good, too noble to be true. He got up on the seat beside her, staying way to his side as he cracked the little whip. The buggy started off at a fast clip. She almost wished he would slow the horse down. Besides enjoying the pleasant, start-studded night, she was enjoying riding next to him, and she really didn’t want the evening to end.

  “Well, heavens,” said Mrs. Bottoms from the back. “That was a real wingding.”

  “Yep,” Paco agreed, “we really cut the wolf loose. That was mucho party. Did you enjoy it, señorita?”

  “Very much so.” She glanced sideways at the strong profile beside here, remembering standing out by the barn in the darkness and how Lawrence had almost kissed her. She wondered if he might someday get up the nerve to try again. As bashful as he was, she might have to take the bull by the horns and kiss him. He’d probably be so shocked, he’d faint and fall out of his boots.

  “Miss Lacey is thinkin’ about stayin’,” the sheriff said, sounding pleased.

  “By the saints, then, you are not angry with me no more, sí?” Paco sounded anxious.

  The sheriff laughed and glanced over at Lark. “Paco, I’m not mad at you no more. I’m much pleased.”

  The way he looked at her sent a shiver over Lark. She looked away, flattered by the sheriff’s expression and comment.

  “Matter of fact,” she said, “I’m thinking about opening a millinery shop.”

  Mrs. Bottoms in the back made a sound of pleasure. “Oh, won’t the ladies be pleased. We’re all wearing old, battered hats. It’s a trip, I’ll tell you, to drive clear over to Abilene.”

  “Soon,” Paco said, “the train will connect our town with all the others, and we’ll grow big as the capital.”

  “I hope not,” Lawrence said. “I like a small town where everyone can get to know each other.” He glanced sideways at Lark again, and his knee brushed against hers, sending a thrill through her. It must have been an accident, she thought, because the man was too shy to make such a bold move deliberately.

  Mrs. Bottoms and Paco began chatting about the dance and the rough railroad crowd from the Cross-eyed Bull that had tried to disrupt the party.

  “I’ll be glad when they finish construction,” the sheriff said. “I’d hate to have to kill one of them.”

  Paco said, “Sí, they don’t know they’re messing with an ex–Texas ranger.”

  A Texas Ranger. Of course. Lawrence Witherspoon was everything a ranger should be—tall, virile, a bull among steers.

  “Otto had better watch out,” Lawrence said, frowning. “I heard what happened, Miss Van Schuyler. You can rest assured if Otto steps out of line again, I’ll hunt him down and beat him like cornbread batter. Nobody mauls a lady when I’m the law here.”

  Be still my heart. Like a knight in shining armor he was, riding gallantly to her rescue. “I managed all right,” she answered modestly.

  “Oh?”

  Paco chuckled. “Sí, you should have seen her, Sheriff. She kicked him in the—well, you know, and then she took after him with a pitchfork.”

  Lawrence glanced over at her with admiration. “Nobody expects that from a lady.”

  Oh, he must never, never know about her past as a waitress slopping beer at the Last Chance. Sir Lancelot must surely want his lady to be Guinevere, pale and chaste and retiring. She almost snorted at the thought. She was a Texas gal, and she could look out for herself—independent, sassy, and sometimes bold as brass. But now when Lawrence looked at her, she felt all clingy and feminine. Why, she’d almost give up bull riding for him. Her tomboy ways might shock him.

  Mrs. Bottoms said, “Tell us about the shop, Lacey. I’ve got a little money I can loan you.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t take your money,” Lark protested.

  “Well, heavens, I don’t know why. Seems like a good investment to me.”

  “There’s an empty building down and across from the hotel that’s probably muy cheap,” Paco suggested.

  “That’s right,” Lawrence said, “It’s been empty a long time.”

  Little Jimmy piped up. “I’d help you clean it up, ma’am.”

  “Thanks, everyone. I’ll look into this in the morning.” Lark felt happier than she had in a long time. Maybe she could still straighten out her mess of a life.

  In the quiet night, a distant sound echoed suddenly through the darkness.

  Lark started. “Land’s sake, what was that? It sounded like someone being tortured.”

  Lawrence laughed. “A prospector’s donkey, I reckon,” he said. “They roam wild all over the prairie.”

  “Prospectors?” Lark asked.

  “Yes,” Mildred Bottoms said. “Was kind of a treasure craze farther out west. It’s pretty much died down, but we still have an occasional one come through—or discouraged, head back the other way. They just toss their gear away and turn their donkeys out to go wild. There ain’t no sound like it, is there?”

  Lark felt relief. “I’ve never been around a donkey before. On our ranch, we raise good quarter horses.”

  “You got family in Texas?” Lawrence asked.

  She must not say anything that he might use to find out the truth. “Ah, Colorado, actually.”

  He looked sideways at her a long moment. “Colorado? Then you certainly should know what a donkey sounds like with all that gold prospectin’ up there.”

  How could she have been so stupid? Of course a gold-mining state would have prospectors and donkeys. “Uh, I reckon I forgot what they sound like.”

  Paco laughed. “How could anyone forget that sound, señorita? It sounds like a guitar being smashed while a coyote chokes. I like the sound.”

  “Surprisingly, I do too,” the sheriff chuckled. “They’re headstrong, stubborn little creatures, not unlike some women.”

  Lark managed to resist the urge to take off her high-button shoe and hit the superior male in the head with it. He might be wonderful, but he still had some of the flaws of most men. The sound echoed through the prairie again. The little donkey sounded lonely and lost.

  Lark sighed. “I just hope a coyote doesn’t get the poor thing.”

  The sheriff said, “Are you jokin’? Unless they gang up on it, the coyote that attacks one of them little Mexican burros better bring his lunch, because he may be there awhile, right, Paco?”

  Paco laughed. “Sí. I’ve seen burros chase a coyote and kick it. It fled yelping and running. Donkeys is stubborn.”

  Like some women, Lark thought. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of the gallant sheriff, but one thing was sure—she was intrigued enough to stick around awhile and find out. What if a wanted poster got sent from the Territory and the sheriff found out the truth about her? She’d just have to take that chance. In the meantime, he might know where his rascal of a brother was hidi
ng out and just be too loyal to turn him in.

  Just then, Sheriff Witherspoon reined in the buggy in front of the hotel, jumped down, and came around. She started to get out, but he caught her waist in his two big hands and lifted her down. For a split second, she seemed to hang in midair as if he were loath to let her go, then he set her on the wooden sidewalk as carefully as if he thought she was a delicate china doll. A girl could get used to being treated like that—even a Texas girl who could ride and rope and shoot as well as any man.

  Chapter Six

  Mrs. Bottoms, Jimmy, and Paco took the picnic baskets and went in, leaving the two alone out by the buckboard.

  Lark said good night, and the shy sheriff shook her hand awkwardly. “Well, good night, Miss Lacey. I hope you had a wonderful time at our dance, despite them railroad rowdies.”

  His hand was so big, it engulfed hers. She wished he would kiss her, but of course, shaking her hand was about as bold as this brave man could get.

  Lark, what are you thinking? You’re not supposed to kiss a man until you’re engaged to him. That rough Larado might grab a girl and kiss her, but of course, he was no gentleman. Not by a long shot.

  “I had a wonderful time.” She smiled up at him.

  He fumbled with the star on his vest. “Me too.”

  There was a long, strained silence.

  He cleared his throat. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe.”

  Lark nodded. “Mrs. Bottoms said she’ll take me around to all the merchants in town and see if she can find several who might want to invest in my millinery shop.”

  “Miss Lacey.” He hesitated. “I—I told you I got a few dollars. Maybe I could lend you some for your little store.”

  She was touched and told him so. “But I couldn’t do that, Mr. Witherspoon. Land’s sake, it isn’t proper, and—-”

  “It would be if we was…Oh, never mind.” He stubbed the toe of his boot against the ground.

  “Besides, now that I know about that little ranch you’re saving for, I just couldn’t. The shop might fail.”

 

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