He shook his head. “You know what would happen to my reputation in this town if anyone caught me wearin’ specs like an old geezer? Everyone would laugh and laugh. I’d have to leave town.”
“It seems to me,” she said as she made coffee, “that shouldn’t bother you. Haven’t you been a saddle tramp all your life?”
“Yep, and I think I’m tired of it. Rolling stones gather no moss—and no respect, neither.”
“Then why don’t you stop running when the going gets tough and face up to life?”
He turned in his chair and looked at her. “Is that the pot callin’ the kettle black?”
She flinched. “Reckon I deserved that.”
“Lark, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“We seem to be a bad fit, Larado.”
“Maybe we’re just too much alike—but that could be good.”
“Don’t kid yourself.” She began to scramble eggs and slice bacon. “We’re like fire and kerosene together.”
“But, oh, we make a hot flame, don’t we?” He grinned at her and she felt her face flush.
“Don’t talk to me, you scoundrel.”
He didn’t say anything more while she concentrated on getting the food ready and putting it before him. She kept her voice cold. “With that broken leg, you’ll be more comfortable in the bed tonight.”
He looked up, eyes alit.
“I mean alone,” she said. “I’ll sleep on the settee.”
“I might need something in the middle of the night,” he said. “Maybe if you’d sleep next to me—”
“If you need something, you can yell loud enough to reach that settee just about ten feet away, can’t you?”
“I reckon.” He began to gobble the food. “Honest, Lark, your cookin’ is improvin’.”
“Don’t try to be nice to me, Larado. It’d take years for me to learn to cook an egg so a dog could eat it.”
“Maybe I’m not as picky as a dog. I’d eat your cookin’ anytime.”
“Thanks a lot.” She began to eat, thinking maybe he was right, it wasn’t as bad as it had been in the past.
He pushed back his empty plate with a sigh and sipped his coffee. “I feel dirty as a pig in a puddle. I could use a bath.”
“With me helping, no doubt?”
He grinned. “Thanks, I’d like that.”
“You can just go dirty ’til Paco gets back in from the posse. How long you think they’ll be gone?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe a week or two. I don’t know about the other convicts, but Snake’ll leave a trail of dead all along the route to Mexico. I won’t breathe easy ’til he’s killed or captured.”
“They’ll get him,” Lark assured him. “You can’t help it you couldn’t go, Larado. Right now, with that bad leg, you’d slow the posse down.”
He took his crutch, hobbled to the window, and looked out. “This town is really dull with most of the men gone.”
“They aren’t all gone—Wilbur Barclay and Abner Snootley didn’t go, plus old Doc and Bill down at the telegraph office.”
“The banker and Snootley ought to be ashamed of themselves for not goin’. The other two are too old.” He stared out the window.
“Knowing the first two, are you surprised? Besides, they’d probably say they stayed behind to protect the town in case some rowdies try to take advantage of most of the men being gone.”
“I don’t reckon there’s much can happen in a few days,” he said, staring out the window. “Nothin’ that I can’t handle.”
“Not unless they find out you can’t shoot.”
He turned and looked at her. “It ain’t that I can’t shoot,” he corrected her. “With my specs on, I’m not too bad.”
“With any luck, you’ll keep bluffing bad guys and never have to shoot anyone. By the way, just how did that start about being an ex–Texas Ranger?”
He looked at her innocently. “I’m sure I wouldn’t have any idea.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Magnolia’s out again,” he said, staring out the window.
“So what else is new? She’s sort of become the town mascot.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Larado laughed, “she sure lets you know she’s around. She brayed and caused a team to run away the other day.”
“I’ll take her around back and lock her up,” Lark said, “but she’ll be out again before morning.”
He yawned. “Reckon we might as well think about goin’ to bed again.”
“You go right ahead on,” Lark said. “After I put away Magnolia, I’ll clean up the kitchen. Then tomorrow, I’ve got to open the shop. Will you be all right going back to work tomorrow?”
He nodded. “I’ll use my crutch and hobble around town some. Most people will come to the office if they need anything. But if old Miss Wiggly’s cat gets up in a tree, it’ll just have to stay there until Paco returns. Help me back to bed?”
“All right.” She slipped under his big arm and they limped back into the bedroom. He turned his head ever so slightly and kissed her cheek.
“Stop it, Larado.”
“I was just thankin’ you for helpin’ me.” His voice and expression were so appealing, her heart almost melted. She wanted to return that kiss, and it would be so easy. All she had to do was turn her face ever so slightly and their lips would touch. Then she wouldn’t be able to stop what would happen next. No, she wouldn’t want to stop what would happen next.
“Here,” she said, dumping him unceremoniously on the bed. “I’m going out and put up Magnolia. Then I’ll make myself a place on the settee.”
“You’ll find out it’s pretty hard.”
She frowned at him. “Not as hard as my heart.”
“Reckon you got that right.”
“What?”
“Nothin’, sweetie.” He grinned at her.
“Don’t call me ‘sweetie’.” She went out the back door and slammed it hard. She caught Magnolia and penned her up, feeding her, Chico, and the buggy horse. Lark came in and cleaned up the kitchen. Then she got herself a blanket and went to bed on the settee. From the bedroom, she could hear Larado’s gentle breathing and wondered if he was asleep or only pretending to be. How she wanted to go to him—but she was certain he had never really cared about her, that he only wanted to amuse himself with her before he drifted on to the next town. The only way out of this mess was to pack up and leave town. Yes, that’s what she was going to do. It was only a matter of time.
From her fine new apartment over the bank, Dixie could see the sheriff’s house. She stood there at her window now as darkness came on, watching the lamp lights glowing from the small place and wishing she were the one in there fixing supper for Larado. Later, they would be warm and cozy in bed together….
“You coming to bed?” yelled Wilbur Barclay.
“So you can climb all over me? No thanks!”
“I pay enough for the privilege,” he complained.
She turned and looked at him. He was a fat, balding pig. “I hate being with you.”
“Oh, shut up, you slut. You got clothes, jewels. What else could you want?”
“Love,” she said, looking toward the sheriff’s little house.
“You come to bed, you whore, and I’ll give you plenty of love.”
“That ain’t what I mean, and you know it.”
He smiled at her. “We ain’t foolin’ each other, Dixie. We each got something out of this deal.”
She sighed and began slipping out of her dress and into an expensive purple nightgown. “I think maybe it cost too much.”
He reached for her and seemed to ignore the fact that she was stiff and wooden in his arms. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be working some cheap crib in a cowtown. Instead of just me, you’d have a dozen men every night. Now give me what I pay for.”
“All right.” She lay down on the bed without enthusiasm. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care—
as he jerked open her bodice. “Don’t rip it,” she complained as he nuzzled her full breasts. “It cost plenty.”
“You think I don’t know that? Hell, I paid for it.”
He climbed on her and handled her roughly, kissing her mouth with wet lips. She let her mind go far away and imagined that it was Larado who embraced her.
After a moment, Barclay was finished with her. “You slut, you could have at least acted like you liked it.”
“You know better than that.” She wiped his kiss from her lips and turned over.
“Someday, Dixie, I’m gonna dump you.”
“Need I remind you about the letter I gave my sister? If anything happens to me, my sister in Atlanta’s gonna turn it over to the law. You’ll go to jail for what happened in Buck Shot.”
“You bitch. I’m not sure I believe there is a letter.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Is it? I just had a private detective do some investigating. I just got a reply yesterday, and guess what?”
A sudden chill went up her back, and she didn’t answer.
“It seems you don’t have a sister.”
“Well, she—she’s not really my sister, she’s a good friend.”
“Uh-huh. And to think I’ve let you blackmail me all these months. You better keep me happy, you slut, or I may just decide I can live without you.”
He’d kill her without a second thought, she realized. And that would protect him from any charges over Buck Shot. She rolled over toward him. “Now, honey,” she crooned, “you know I was just in a bad mood. You want me again? Here, let me make you happy.”
She began to kiss his bald head. After a moment, his fat, sweaty hand grabbed her breast and pulled her to him. She was going to have to do something soon because now that Barclay knew the truth, her life was in danger. What to do? There was no way she could escape with the bank’s money—she knew now that Barclay would never give her the combination to the new safe. She wanted Larado, but that wasn’t going to happen. Who else was available who had enough money to help her? As Barclay pawed her naked body again, she coolly went through a mental file of every available man in town.
In her mind, Dixie saw Mrs. Snootley. The woman often made trips to Abilene to buy the latest styles. That must mean the general store did pretty well. Old Abner Snootley had looked her over several times with that yearning, lusty look she knew so well. Tomorrow, she vowed, she would make a play for the old codger. Mrs. Snootley was out of town again. Maybe Dixie could seduce the old man into cleaning out his safe and running off with her. That would put her out of the banker’s reach. Beyond that, she had no plan—but she’d always struggled to survive, this bastard daughter of a rebel whore and a Yankee soldier. Life was tough in postwar Atlanta, and she was on the streets by the time she was fifteen. Yes, tomorrow she would seduce old Snootley.
Lark awoke at dawn on Friday and sat up, almost groaning aloud. Larado was right, this settee was miserable. Well, she wasn’t about to sleep in the bed with him. With his charm, he’d have her in his arms and on top of him to compensate for his splinted leg. She went in and shook Larado awake. “Are you all right?”
His dark eyes flickered open and he grinned. “Glory be. Are you an angel, or am I dreamin’?” He caught her hand and kissed her fingertips.
“Or maybe your worst nightmare,” she snapped, pulling out of his grasp. “I’ll fix you something to eat, and then I’m going to open the shop. You gonna be able to manage today?”
He sat up, gloriously bare chested, and stretched. His muscles flexed and rippled. She found herself staring at him. “I’ll manage okay,” he said. “There’s nothin’ much gonna happen with almost every man gone on the posse. I can hobble down to my office and maybe do a little paperwork.”
“Remember to take your specs, then.”
“All right. I don’t reckon anyone will see me wearin’ them.”
“That wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen,” she said, pausing in the bedroom doorway.
“Ha! For a tough Texas sheriff to be caught wearin’ glasses? Are you kiddin’? I’d have to leave town.”
“Sooner or later, Larado, we’ve both got to quit running when things get too tough.”
He snorted. “Speak for yourself, sweetie.”
“All right, I deserved that.” She went into the kitchen and began making coffee.
“Hey,” he yelled from the bedroom. “I could use some help gettin’ dressed.”
“I don’t think so!” she yelled back. “I’m not stupid enough to get close to you with you rested and half naked.”
“You’re not at all trustin’.”
“Let’s just say I know you, you rascal. How do you want your eggs?”
“Sunny side up.”
She did her best, but she broke the yolks as she tried awkwardly to get the eggs in the skillet. “You’re getting them scrambled.”
“Then why did you bother to ask?” He came into the kitchen, still bare chested and barefoot, his hair damp from washing. He hobbled up behind her and put one arm around her, beginning to kiss the back of her neck.
She felt the goose bumps start up her skin with the warmth of him and the hardness of his erection against her back. She resisted the urge to turn in his arms and kiss him the way she yearned to. “Stop it,” she ordered. “One of us is going to get burnt.”
“Okay,” he sighed, hobbling over to take a chair at the kitchen table. “What kind of day is it going to be?”
She dished up the food and joined him at the table. “What’s July always like in Texas? Hotter than hell with the lid off.”
“My leg is itchy and sweaty under the splints,” he complained as he sipped the coffee and shuddered.
“Oh, hush. Maybe there’ll be some interesting new settlers on the train tomorrow.” She glanced toward the front windows. “Oh my, I see the banker’s wife is out early today.”
He sipped his coffee. “Oh, she comin’ here?”
“You want her to?”
“Honestly, Lark, sweetie, what kind of question is that? You sound like a jealous wife.”
“Oh, shut up.” She got up and went to the window. “No, she’s headed down toward the general store. Funny, I thought she had a maid who ran all the errands for her.”
“What do we care?” Larado yawned and scratched that bare, magnificent body.
“I wish you’d put a shirt on.”
He grinned. “Look your fill, lady.”
“Oh shut up, you scoundrel. In a minute, I’ll help you with your boots.” She returned to watching Dixie walk down the wooden sidewalk, her bustle wiggling.
Mr. Abner Snootley looked up as the bell rang on the front door of his store. It was the banker’s wife, what a beauty. He came out from behind the counter, nodding and smiling. “Morning, Mrs. Barclay, what can I do for you today? Awfully early for a lady to be out.”
She smiled at him, and his insides churned. It had been a long time since a woman had looked at him that way. He searched his memory. No, even Bertha had never looked at him that way. Certainly, his cold wife hadn’t slept with him or even kissed him in the last several years. He felt as nervous as a rattlesnake on a hot griddle as he popped a peppermint in his mouth.
“Well”—she smiled even bigger, her long eyelashes fluttering—“I don’t know, I thought I’d just look around to see what you’ve got to offer.”
She wore a pink dress with lots of lace, drawing attention to her big bosom as she took deep breaths. He took a couple of deep breaths himself, looking at her. She wore a musky, strong perfume and twirled a lace parasol.
His hands started shaking, and he almost choked on his peppermint. “You don’t see what you want, I can order it—ship it in on the train.” He could use a big order. Bertha’s constant trips had put him in heavy debt. He didn’t see how he was going to make it even one more month, unless a miracle happened.
The blonde came over to him, laid her small hand on his arm, and gave it a slig
ht squeeze. “You are so accommodating,” she drawled.
“I do love your accent,” he stammered. “You’re a real Southern lady. We don’t see women of your class in this town. I reckon your rich husband just spoils you rotten.”
Tears came to her eyes. “Well, money doesn’t buy everything, you know.” She turned away and wiped her eyes.
He felt awkward, but he offered her his handkerchief. “You got that right. I thought when I married Bertha and her rich uncle funded this store, things would be great—but it hasn’t turned out that way.”
She walked up and down, looking at merchandise. “Bertha out of town again?”
“She’s always out of town, always gone to Abilene buying stuff,” he complained.
She whirled and looked up at him. “Reckon your store must do pretty well to allow her to do that.”
He smiled. “I can’t complain.” His ego wouldn’t allow him to tell her that no one controlled Bertha and that he was on the verge of bankruptcy if things didn’t change soon.
“Dear Mr. Snootley—”
“Call me Abner, please.” He lowered his voice, a little shaken, but pleased to be taken into such confidence by this beautiful wife of the richest man in town.
“Abner,” she corrected herself with a smile, leaning toward him. “I just thought I might buy something amusing in your store for myself. You know, all my husband thinks of is work, work, work. I get so lonely.”
He couldn’t take his gaze off those full breasts as she leaned closer. He lowered his voice. “I get lonely myself sometimes. Of course everyone thinks all I think of is running this store, but sometimes I wish Bertha was as interested in me as she is in clothes.”
She paused and looked up at him, running her pink tongue along her full lips. The gesture made his heart hammer. His hands shook as he popped another peppermint in his mouth.
“My husband just doesn’t pay one bit of attention to me. I swear, sometimes I just want to get on that train when it comes through and leave town. ’Course it would take a very interestin’ and intellectual man to make me leave my husband.”
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