“I’m your employer.” Mary swallowed the fear she knew better than to show. “I’ll tell you whatever I wish. What’s the matter with you?”
“The world I live in is a bit different from yours. Don’t grab me when I don’t expect it. The same goes for the rest of my men. You won’t like what happens if you startle them.”
“I suspect not. Now take your hand off that gun.”
He raised an eyebrow but did as she said. “Let’s get one thing straight; I’m in charge here. You can try to tell them what to do”—he jerked his head at the four behind him—“but I don’t think they’d be of a mind to listen.”
Mary glanced at the others. Their gazes were dark, cold, nearly feral. “Fine. You deal with them. I’ll deal with you.”
“Agreed. Lead on, Miss McKendrick.”
Mary cast a glance at the people of Rock Creek. As always, everyone waited for her to take charge and do what had to be done. Reverend Clancy had disappeared, no doubt running all the way back to the rectory.
If she’d left things to Clancy, they’d have turned the other cheek until the bandits destroyed Rock Creek, and not out of Christian charity but cowardice.
Mary had always been an organizer and a leader. She couldn’t help herself. When something needed doing, everyone turned to Mary, and she accepted the challenge. She should be the mayor—except she was a woman.
Turning her back on the uneasy gazes of the townsfolk, Mary walked down Main Street in the direction of the Rock Creek Hotel. No one had used the place in a long time. As she’d told Reese in Dallas, Rock Creek was dying. The thought made her sigh.
“Something wrong?” Reese walked at her side again, leading his horse behind.
“Besides everything?”
“That bad?”
“If it wasn’t, do you think I’d have gone searching for you?”
“No one ever does.”
Disappointment laced his voice, and for a moment Mary felt bad. But truth was truth. She didn’t think Reese was a man who needed or wanted platitudes.
“I suppose not,” she agreed.
He glanced behind them then lowered his voice as if to keep the others from hearing. “I apologize for my behavior before. You shouldn’t touch me unaware.”
Her brow creased. The man was confusing—one moment, all animal-like grace and growls, the next, gentlemanly apologies. She nodded, accepting his words, letting them go without comment. She had as little idea how to deal with a gentleman as an outlaw.
“Here’s the hotel.” Mary peered up at the graying plank structure. The sign hung by a single nail. The windows were broken, and there were bullet holes in the plank, courtesy of El Diablo and crew. “There’s a stable out back. It’s clean, with bedding and feed for the horses.”
“Is there bedding and feed for the men?”
“Of course. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but the roof doesn’t leak—”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” she agreed. “It’s big, so you can all be together but still have separate rooms.”
“And we won’t be sleeping beneath the roofs of decent folk.”
Their eyes met. Understanding passed between them. “There is that,” she said.
Reese turned and instructed his men to put away their horses and go inside to choose rooms. Dusk descended in the west, spreading cool shadows across them both. The street, which had been filled with people only moments ago, had gone deserted. Mary shivered.
“Cold?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Let’s step inside. You can tell me what you know about the fellows we’ve come to fight.”
He threw his reins over the hitching post and stepped through the doors of the hotel. Though Mary would have preferred to go home and get away from the man who made her feel as if her skin hummed during every minute spent in his presence, she had little choice but to follow him inside.
In the dim light the lobby looked worse than she remembered, and Mary fought the urge to apologize further. This was the best Rock Creek had to offer these days, and there was nothing she could do about that.
Reese lit the lamp that sat on the front desk. Although dusty with disuse, the wood was fine and, once polished, would gleam again. The guest ledger still occupied the same position it had been in when the last owner, an old man named Grady, hightailed it out of town. How was she going to get this hotel going again if everyone kept running out of town instead of in?
Mary didn’t know, but she’d do it. Her days of running were over.
Turning away from the lamp, Reese removed his hat and tossed it on the desk. The yellow flame flickered gold across his already golden head. Without even trying, Mary remembered him half-naked and looming over her. She swallowed the scalding lump at the back of her throat and prayed that her red face did not show in the dim light.
“Sit?” he asked, flicking a finger at the dirty couch parked crookedly in front of the window.
Mary stared at the small piece of furniture, imagined how close she’d be to him if they both sat on the thing, and shook her head. He shrugged then crossed the room, passing close enough for Mary to catch his scent—horse and man and something else.
Danger? Temptation? Probably both.
He appeared ridiculous perched on the tiny, evergreen-shaded couch. His legs were too long, his body too big to be comfortable there, but he leaned back, spread his arms along the top, perched one foot atop his other knee, and stared at her. “Well?”
“Yes?” Her gaze traveled from his black boot, up his black pants, lit on his black shirt, and met his green eyes.
“The bandits. Who are they? Where are they? And what do they want?”
He was back to shooting sharp questions, and that sat just fine with her. “We don’t know where they go, and they want whatever they can get for the least amount of effort. Their leader is an old Indian named El Diablo.”
“The Devil?” He rolled his eyes. “Spare me.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s what I thought. But that’s what they call him. He’s collected a bunch of nasty followers. Men no one else wants all gravitate to El Diablo. Indians, Mexicans, Texans too. I even saw some gray uniforms the last time they came through.”
“Confederates?”
“Former, obviously. Is that going to be a problem for you?” He hesitated, rubbing his chin with his thumb. “Reese?”
He glanced up, dropping his hand. “No. This isn’t about my past; it’s about your future. True soldiers of the South wouldn’t prey on the innocent.”
“Where have you been living?”
He blinked at her sarcastic tone. “Excuse me?”
“Soldiers of any type prey on anything they can.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I’m in Texas today because of soldiers, and both sides are to blame. I don’t trust government outlaws any more than I trust El Diablo’s.”
“You don’t have to worry about my men.”
“I’d better not. I’m trusting you to keep them in line. I brought you here to help. Don’t make me regret it.”
Though he continued to sit on the couch, seeming relaxed, his eyes sparked green fire in the glow of the lantern flames. “And what if we decided to go rogue like wild animals? What would you do about that, Miss McKendrick?”
She could not show weakness with this man, so she moved closer, until her skirt brushed the tip of his boot, and glared down her long nose at him. “I’d shoot you, Reese, like a wild animal, and bury you where no one would ever find you.”
He stood in one supple movement, now staring down at her. Even though her heart fluttered with fear, she refused to retreat, since that was what he wanted. Mary was often afraid, but that never stopped her from getting the job done.
“I’d like to see you try,” he whispered.
“Cross me and you will.” Big words, her mind taunted, words she couldn’t back up or she wouldn’t have hired Reese and his men in the first place. But words like that, once said, could not be t
aken back or you’d lose whatever ground you’d gained by saying them.
A deep chuckle from the doorway caused Mary to step back. Her heel came down on her skirt, and she stumbled.
Reese snatched her shoulders, and pulled her against him. The heat that flooded the length of her body made her mind mush, and for a moment she just stared at the man who seemed to have appeared by magic in the room. Mary had not even heard the door open.
The youngest of the six lounged between the foyer and the dining room. His face was that of Lucifer’s finest—dark, haunted, and beautiful.
“Quit sneaking up on people, Kid. One of these days you’re going to get shot.”
“Sounds like you are the one who will be shot, mi capitan. La mujer, she has courage.”
“Mind your own business.”
“But you are my business. If you are shot by an irate woman, what will we do?” His tone was amused, but the dark eyes, focused on Reese, were filled with concern. “Without you we are merely five separate lost souls. With you, however, we are six that become one.”
“Go away, Rico. She won’t shoot me.”
“No?” Rico looked Mary up, then all the way down. “I am not so certain.”
But he left, sliding on silent feet toward the rear of the hotel. While she couldn’t hear Rico’s boots, the tromp of several others’ filled the room as the men went upstairs.
“You can let me go now,” she said.
“Can I? Why, thank you, ma’am.”
His breath brushed her cheek, and she shivered, as much from that as from the cool air that whooshed over her when he moved to stand by the window. The man gave off heat like a stovepipe.
“You were all soldiers, weren’t you?”
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know, Captain. Why?”
“What difference does it make what we were, it’s what we are that should concern you.”
“And don’t think it doesn’t. So they follow you because you were their captain?”
“I wasn’t their captain.” He turned, and she could tell by the set of his face that the subject was closed. For now. “It’s dark. I’ll walk you home.”
The thought of Reese walking her home like a beau sent a shred of panic through Mary. She had no idea how to behave with a man who made her feel as he did. So she talked too fast and too much. “That isn’t necessary. I live behind the school. In a little cabin. I used to board with each student for a week, but when people started leaving, I was able to take the cabin for my own. It’s quite adorable, really. I just have to walk a few buildings down and turn.”
“How convenient,” he drawled.
Mary blushed. What did that mean? Since she didn’t know, she kept on talking. “Tomorrow you can come by the school and we’ll talk more about El Diablo.”
“I can’t wait.”
A single set of footsteps skittered down the stairs. Seconds later, Jo burst into the foyer. “Oh! I didn’t realize you were still here, Mary. We can walk home together.”
“Wonderful.” Mary glanced at Reese. “See? We’ll be fine. Truly.”
He merely raised an eyebrow. “How’s Nate?”
“Sleeping,” Jo answered. “Can’t you make him stop drinking?”
“No.”
“Just like that? No? Have you even tried?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sure if you tried harder you could help him.”
“Some things even I can’t fix.” He was staring at Mary when he said it. She hoped he was wrong.
“What’s wrong with Nate that you can’t fix?” Jo was like a dog with a bone most days.
Reese turned his gaze back to Jo. “I have no idea.”
Jo scowled, grabbed Mary’s hand, and marched them both out of the hotel. “Men,” she muttered as soon as her feet hit the street.
Mary had to agree.
Chapter 3
Reese stepped onto the porch, rolled a cigarette with practiced fingers, and watched the two women walk home. They progressed past a few abandoned buildings and turned at the schoolhouse, only a stone’s throw from the hotel.
Before she disappeared from sight, Mary looked back. When she saw him standing there, she hesitated, as if she’d wave or say good-bye, but her little friend just kept barreling around the corner and dragged Mary along with her.
Reese had seen women like Jo Clancy before. They thought they could save the world and every man in it. She’d have her hands full with Nate. The guy had been on a slow suicide mission since Reese had met him.
He put the cigarette in his mouth, cupping his hands to light it. Atlanta snorted in protest. He didn’t like smoke. The horse would have been worthless in battle. Maybe that’s why Reese liked him so damn much.
Taking a deep drag of the cigarette, Reese let the familiar gesture calm and soothe him as he thought back on his conversation with Mary.
Might any of his men have heard of, or met, El Diablo? Maybe Rico?
Nah. The Kid had left southern Texas when he was fourteen, and before that Reese had a feeling he’d been a pampered mama’s boy, a Tejano whose father had been criollo—the Spanish aristocracy of Mexico. Therefore, Rico would have no cause to be acquainted with a low-down bandit. But if Rico came from the cream of Texas society, why had he gone to war when he was little more than a child?
Reese cursed beneath his breath. Why would he care? He’d learned not to get too close to his men. Because if you did and you lost them, madness wasn’t far behind.
He tossed the cigarette to the ground; Atlanta pawed at it. Reese crushed the scarlet glow into dust with his boot and led the horse to the stable.
A short while later, he entered the rear door of the hotel. Clinking glass and the rumble of male voices drew him toward the remnants of the hotel’s dining room. He’d planned to go in and discuss the job, but when he heard his name, he hesitated just long enough to make entering at that moment impossible.
“I say Reese is his last name,” Jed insisted.
“And I say it’s his first.” That was Cash.
“So noted, hombres. We have gone over his name countless times. Right now we are discussing, once again, what he was before he became a capitan.”
The five kept up a running wager on Reese’s name and previous occupation. It was a harmless bit of fun and sometimes got downright amusing. Like now.
“He was a damn Georgia tobacco planter with a big house and a hundred servants. That’s why he calls his horse Atlanta. He’s still pissed at Sherman for burning the place down, and he doesn’t want to forget to kill the bastard general the next time he sees him.”
Not quite, Reese thought with a smirk for Jed’s ingenuity.
“He had a horse farm where he raised the finest animals south of the Mason-Dixon,” Cash said. “That’s why he babies that horse of his enough to make me sick.”
“I believe he was a preacher-man,” Rico said. “Where else would he have gotten all those black clothes?”
“Nate’s the preacher, Kid. Haven’t you been listening to him when he’s in his cups?” Cash asked.
“How could I not, since he always is? But just because Nate was a preacher does not mean el capitan could not be one too.”
“Have you ever heard him mention God?” Jed pointed out.
“What does God have to do with it?”
As usual, Sullivan stayed silent until he had something worthwhile to say. “Could be he was a teacher.”
Everyone started laughing.
“Can you see Reese wiping snotty noses?” Jed managed between guffaws.
“Yeah,” Sullivan said. “I’ve seen him wipe up after each and every one of us.”
The laughing stopped. Reese made a movement toward the door, planning to put an end to any further speculation, but Rico’s next words made him freeze. “He certainly likes the teacher lady of Rock Creek.”
“Never seen him look twice at a female before today,” Cash muttered. “I always liked that about the man.”<
br />
“Perhaps his being a preacher is why he looks at the teacher.”
“Whadya mean?”
“Wouldn’t you say she’s a Virgin Mary?”
“That’s enough.” Reese stepped into the room. All eyes turned to him. “We’ve got more important things to talk about than my past.”
“If you’d tell us the truth, then we could solve the mystery, Capitan.”
“Go to hell, Rico.”
“But of course. I’m sure you’ll be waiting there for us all.”
Reese narrowed his eyes and took a step toward the slick-mouthed kid, but Sullivan stepped between them. “Forget it, Reese. He likes to push till we snap. It’s his favorite game.”
“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here, amigo.”
Sullivan gave Rico a shove with his shoulder. “Then quit acting like you’re sixteen and rebelling against your daddy.”
“When I was sixteen, I was already at war.”
“Join the club, Kid.”
“But I thought I had.” Rico went to sit with the others at the table, where they shared a dusty bottle. As he sipped his whiskey, Rico’s dark gaze stayed on Reese. “Isn’t that what we are? The six of us? A club of misfits led by el capitan?”
“One of these days you’re going to push me too far, and then I’ll tan your hide,” Reese said.
Rico pulled his knife from the scabbard at his waist and turned the huge blade over and over in one hand with nimble fingers. Sometimes Reese cursed Jim Bowie for inventing such a weapon, but Rico could do amazing things with his knife—with any knife, for that matter. However, he couldn’t shoot for shit.
“Tan my hide? That is something I would like to see you try.”
“Keep it up and you will.”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, must you always squabble?”
Nate stood in the doorway, appearing almost sober but decidedly rumpled. The dark stubble on his chin was only marginally shorter than the stubble on his head. Nate liked to shave his head whenever his hands were steady enough. He said the less need for a comb and soap, the better, and Reese, who had cleaned him up enough times, had to agree.
“Wasn’t it St. Paul who said, ‘A man’s friend is his castle. Do not tear him down brick by brick.’ “
Reese Page 3