Kid Calhoun

by Joan Johnston

  Never.

  And if they hanged her, it was no business of his. He was merely doing a job.

  Jake felt acid in his throat. Hell and the devil. He just wouldn’t think about what Anabeth Calhoun would look like at the end of a rope.

  9

  As they rode the last few miles to Window Rock, Jake realized he was going to have to think of some way to explain Anabeth Calhoun’s presence to Claire. Finally, he decided the truth would work best. At least, part of the truth.

  “I’m going to tell my sister that you’re Booth’s niece, and that you’ve agreed to help me look for the gold your uncle stole. But I don’t want Claire knowing that you rode as part of the gang.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not sure she’d let you cross her threshold, and I don’t fancy spending the few nights I’m visiting Claire sleeping outside with you. That means no smoking around Claire.” He reached out and plucked the makings from her vest pocket and put them in his own. “And no drinking or swearing, either.”

  Anabeth glowered at Jake’s highhandedness. His warnings only confirmed her increasing nervousness about meeting Claire Chandler. She just knew she was going to get caught in her charade as a woman. If the truth came out, there was no telling what Claire’s reaction would be to having an outlaw under her roof.

  On the other hand, Anabeth wished there were some way she could relate Sam Chandler’s dying words to his wife. Unfortunately, that was impossible without giving away her true identity to Claire, which Jake had just forbidden her to do.

  Anabeth’s gaze slipped to the horizon. A familiar sight greeted her there. “Have you seen that dog following us?”

  “I’ve seen him,” Jake said.

  “I think it’s the same animal that followed me to Santa Fe when I brought you there on the travois.”

  “Might be. That’s Dog.”

  “Dog? That’s his name?”

  “He doesn’t answer to it,” Jake said. “But it’s what I call him.”

  Anabeth turned a startled look on Jake. “How come he’s walking over there all by himself, instead of joining us?”

  “I don’t know. And Dog isn’t talking.”

  Anabeth snorted in disgust. “Very funny.”

  Jake rubbed the itchy healing spots around the wound in his leg.

  “How’s your leg?”

  “It won’t bear my weight for long at a time. But it’ll do.” Jake pointed and said, “There’s Window Rock.”

  Anabeth angled her head to examine the odd rock formation. “It does look like a window, doesn’t it?”

  “I always thought so. When we get to Claire’s place, let me do the talking,” he admonished.

  Anabeth bristled. “I’m perfectly capable of speaking for myself.”

  “Just keep your mouth shut, Kid.”

  Anabeth was stung by his use of her outlaw name. It was obvious that although Jake was presenting her to his sister as a young woman, he didn’t think much of her as one. Anabeth would have welcomed the opportunity to argue further with Jake, but they had already arrived in front of a one-story white-washed adobe house.

  Jake stepped down from his horse and called out to his sister. Anabeth also stepped down, but she stayed where she was rather than follow Jake up the two steps onto the shaded porch. The woman who came out of the house in response to Jake’s call seemed tiny for the sister of such a large man.

  Claire’s eyes brightened when she spied Jake, then widened in concern as she realized he was limping. “Jake, you’re hurt! Come inside and let me take a look at you.”

  Jake resisted Claire’s efforts to force him inside. “I’m fine, Claire. It’s already been taken care of.” He caught her hands and turned her to face Anabeth, who stood at the hitching rail beside her dun.

  “This is Anabeth Calhoun.” Jake paused and added, “She’s the niece of one of the outlaw gang who robbed Sam. She’s agreed to do whatever she can to help us recover the gold that was stolen from Sam. She has an idea where we can start looking—a valley where she lived with her uncle.”

  Claire stared at Anabeth for a moment, apparently uncertain how to greet the young woman.

  Jake perceived Claire’s growing rigidity and said, “Anabeth saved my life. She was the one who nursed me after I was bushwhacked by the Calhoun Gang.”

  Maybe that was stretching the truth a bit, but he was willing to do what was necessary to limit Claire’s hostility toward Anabeth Calhoun. Jake told himself he did it because things would be easier over the next couple of days with the two women in the same house together. He refused to acknowledge he was acting out of consideration for Anabeth’s feelings.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Anabeth,” Claire said with genuine warmth. She crossed down the steps to hug the younger woman.

  Anabeth found herself being scrutinized by a pair of penetrating hazel eyes. While she watched, the expression in Claire’s eyes visibly softened. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Jake. He means a lot to me.”

  “It was nothing, really,” Anabeth protested.

  Claire turned to her brother. “Beautiful … and modest, too.”

  Jake looked at Anabeth. Even flushed with embarrassment and dusty from the trail, she was undeniably lovely. But he responded merely, “If you say so.”

  Claire laughed. “I do!” She turned back to Anabeth and wrinkled her nose at the sight of Anabeth’s dusty clothes. “If I know Jake, you haven’t had much rest on the trail.” She slipped an arm around Anabeth’s waist and began dragging her up the porch steps. “Come on inside. You look like you could do with a nice warm bath.”

  Anabeth gave one desperate look back at Jake over her shoulder as Claire ushered her inside.

  Jake frowned. So maybe Anabeth Calhoun was beautiful. What difference did that make? She was still an outlaw. And she was still going to hang. At least now Claire had given him an explanation for why he was so attracted to her. He had only responded to Anabeth Calhoun the same way any man would who had been too long without a woman. He was willing to admit he desired her. But that was the extent of his feelings for her.

  In fact, just the thought of having Anabeth’s long legs wrapped around him, of sheathing himself deep inside her while she writhed beneath him, made his blood pound. Jake looked down at the hard ridge in his jeans. Damned if that Kid hadn’t done it to him again!

  Jake walked around for a few moments and thought of awful things until his body was under control, then followed the two women inside. He found Claire in the kitchen pumping water to put on the stove to heat.

  “I suppose if you were laid up, you haven’t had a chance to start hunting for the gold yet,” Claire said when Jake joined them. “But you arrived at a perfect time. Will Reardon is coming for supper tonight. He practically insisted on the invitation, but now I’m glad he did. Surely he’ll be more patient about collecting on the note when you explain that Anabeth is going to help you find the gold.”

  Anabeth turned her face away from Claire so the other woman wouldn’t see her frown. Frankly, Anabeth didn’t hold out much hope that they would find Sam’s gold. She had already looked everywhere in Treasure Valley she thought it might be. The two words Booth had spoken to her as he lay dying might have been a clue. But they meant nothing to her.

  “The tub is on the back porch. Would you bring it in please, Jake?” Claire asked.

  Jake set up the copper tub. When it was full, Claire shooed Jake out of the kitchen. “Let this young lady have some privacy now. Why don’t you go catch up with Shug?”

  Jake tried to catch Anabeth’s eye, but she avoided looking at him. Finally, he walked over and leaned down so he could whisper in her ear. “Watch what you say. I don’t want Claire upset. Don’t even think about trying to escape. I’d come after you. And you wouldn’t like what I’d do when I found you.”

  Anabeth’s face flamed with humiliation. She didn’t need Jake’s warning. She wouldn’t have purposely hurt Claire Chandler for an
ything in the world. As for escaping, there would certainly be plenty of opportunities for that once they were gone from Window Rock. Jake had disappeared before Anabeth found a retort that could be repeated in mixed company.

  Anabeth, who had never been shy with Wolf, felt awkward disrobing in front of Claire. Claire didn’t allow Anabeth’s self-consciousness to survive very long.

  “Just step in here. That’s right. You can scooch down if you like. Here’s a cloth to wash with. Just let me get you some soap.”

  Claire made herself busy in the kitchen, all the while reminiscing about the years she had spent with Sam. It was almost more than Anabeth could bear. She was uncomfortably aware of the ravaged look on Claire’s face whenever she mentioned her late husband’s name. If a sentence began with “Sam always said,” Anabeth could count on Claire’s voice being a little sharper, her movements a little jumpier, her body a little stiffer.

  Finally Anabeth felt compelled to say, “You must miss him very much.”

  Claire threaded her hands together and clenched them until the knuckles turned white. “I do. I only wish I’d had a chance to tell him I loved him before he died.”

  “Surely he must have known.”

  “That’s just it. I … I wasn’t a very loving wife the last three years we had together.”

  “I’m sure Sam’s last thoughts of you were good ones,” Anabeth said. Actually, she knew for sure that Sam had been thinking of Claire.

  “Do you think so?”

  The desperate look in the other woman’s eyes nearly broke Anabeth’s heart. “Aren’t you remembering only the good times right now?” Anabeth said. “Don’t you think Sam must have done the same thing at the end?”

  Claire thought about it for a moment. A sweet smile slowly spread on her face. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’m sure he must have thought of me kindly. And of Jeff.”

  “Jeff?”

  “Our son.” Claire swallowed over the thickness in her throat. “He was killed by Apaches three years ago. Afterward … I blamed Sam for Jeff’s death.”

  “It all sounds very sad,” Anabeth said.

  “It was,” Claire said. “It is.” She cleared her throat and asked, “How’s that water? Still warm enough?”

  “It’s fine. Wonderful, actually.”

  “Good. I’ll go fix up Jeff’s bedroom for you, and leave you alone to finish your bath.”

  Anabeth laid her head back in the copper tub and relaxed for the first time since Booth had been killed. The hot water in the tub seemed to melt her bones. She felt languorous and serene in a way she hadn’t imagined possible.

  The same could not be said of Jake.

  It had occurred to him as he stood out in the barn explaining his wound to Shug Smith, that he had given Anabeth Calhoun a perfect opportunity to escape—if such was her intention.

  Jake ignored the voice that told him she would have given him more trouble on the trail if she had intended to flee at the first opportunity. He told Shug that he had forgotten to tell Claire something and headed for the back door of the house, which led to the kitchen.

  Jake listened at the kitchen door for voices, but heard none. Was the Kid already gone? He shoved the door open without knocking and discovered why it was so quiet.

  Anabeth Calhoun was sound asleep in the tub. She was also naked.

  Her long legs extended over one end of the copper bathtub. Her head lay angled back across the other, a towel under her neck providing a substitute pillow. Everything else from the slope of her breasts downward was hidden beneath the soapy film on the water.

  Jake swallowed hard. He started backing away toward the door, determined not to make a fool of himself by getting caught in here with her. Unfortunately, he ran into the straw broom Claire had set beside the door.

  The wooden handle of the broom made an awful clatter when it landed on the planked floor. Jake held his breath, hoping against hope that the Kid wouldn’t wake up.

  But Wolf had done a good job honing Anabeth’s survival instincts. She not only woke when the broom hit the floor, she came flying out of the tub and landed on her feet poised to protect herself.

  It was woefully apparent within seconds that she had neither weapon to defend herself, nor enemy to defend against. Unless she counted Jake. Which, considering the avid look on his face, wasn’t out of the question.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said.

  “For God’s sake, cover yourself up!”

  With self-defense her only consideration, Anabeth had been totally unaware of her nakedness. Once Jake spoke, she felt the sting of heat in her chest that quickly became red flags in her cheeks. She reached for the towel that had cushioned her neck and quickly wrapped it around herself.

  “What are you doing in here?” she demanded, holding the towel closed with both hands.

  It seemed stupid to admit that he had been worried she was planning to run away. Why put ideas into her head? “I …”He couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse why he might have come into the kitchen when he knew she was taking a bath there. So he said, “I thought you’d be done by now.”

  Anabeth let go of the towel with one hand and rubbed the back of her neck where it had lain against the tub. “I guess I fell asleep.”

  Jake watched the towel slipping and resisted the urge to tuck it around her. He was getting not only a good look at the swell of her breasts, but a tantalizing hint of two lovely pink aureoles as well. He was appalled at how quickly his body responded to her. The Kid wasn’t the type of female he normally sought out when he needed a woman.

  Jake had a firm rule about leaving virgins alone. Let a man get involved with a good woman, and she would soon have him cinched to the last hole. So he had always been careful not to get his spurs tangled in virtuous petticoats. Not that Anabeth was wearing petticoats. But that only made the whole business trickier. Because innocent or not, dressed in petticoats or not, he wanted her.

  “Don’t you think you’d better get dressed,” he said in a husky voice.

  Anabeth looked around the room for her clothes. She arched a brow. “I would if I had anything to wear. I think Claire decided the things I had on needed washing.”

  “Claire!”

  Claire came running at Jake’s bellow. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?” She stopped at the threshold when she saw Anabeth standing there in nothing but a drooping towel. “Jake! What are you doing in here? Scat! Shoo!”

  She marched forward and would have thrown him out the kitchen door like a mangy cat except Jake held his ground.

  “I’m afraid this is a case of closing the barn door after the horse is gone,” he drawled.

  Claire looked from Jake to Anabeth’s rosy cheeks and back again. “Oh.”

  “Besides, I’m not interested.”

  He saw Claire didn’t believe him. But Anabeth did, and her relief was almost tangible. Which irritated him. “Where did you put my saddlebags?”

  “In Jeff’s room.”

  “There’s a package wrapped up in brown paper in one of my bags. Would you get it for me, please?”

  The tension hummed between Jake and Anabeth for the few moments it took Claire to leave and return. She handed the package to Jake. “Here it is.”

  “This is for you,” Jake said. He held it out to Anabeth, but she had both hands occupied holding on to the towel.

  “Would you open it for me please?”

  Jake untied the brown string and the Wedgwood blue silk taffeta dress spilled out, along with a lacy chemise, a corset, and pink-ribboned drawers.

  “Oh, Jake!” Anabeth let go of the towel with one hand and reached out to caress the silken fabric. Her eyes glowed as she lifted them from the dress to meet Jake’s gaze. “You bought the dress for me. Thank you.”

  Jake’s cheeks burned with heat. “I figured with company coming tonight you could use something a little fancy to wear to supper.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll always treasure it.”

  �
�Come back in a little while,” Claire said as she shooed Jake out of the kitchen. “Supper will be ready soon.”

  Jake didn’t waste time arguing. When he left the kitchen he headed for the barn, where he saddled up his gelding and took off toward the small graveyard where Sam was buried. He sat on the grass beside Sam’s grave and pondered the situation.

  He needed to get things settled soon, so he didn’t have to spend any more time than necessary in Anabeth Calhoun’s company. Because the longer he knew her, the more vulnerable he seemed to be to the woman. All he had done was buy the damn woman a dress, and you would think he had given her the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

  Speaking of gold, although he didn’t want to think it, he had to consider the possibility that Anabeth knew—had known all along—where Sam’s gold was hidden. Somehow he had to convince her that she must give it up. Maybe he could make a deal with her. The gold in exchange for letting her go, maybe.

  Jake froze. He would get the gold and send the Kid to jail. That was the way he did things. No compromise. Ever. No deals. Ever. Not even for Anabeth Calhoun. Especially not for Anabeth Calhoun.

  Because he found her too attractive for his peace of mind, Jake had to be firm. He had to stick to his guns. He had past examples to show him he was courting disaster if he let an outlaw go free.

  Jake’s mind was still churning as he headed back to the ranch house. He saw a man dressed up in a city suit riding toward him in the distance and figured it was probably Claire’s company. He headed in Will Reardon’s direction. It might not be a bad idea to have a talk in private with the man before supper.

  “Howdy,” Jake called as he approached the other man on horseback. Reardon looked almost the dandy in his black suit and string tie. He didn’t hold a candle to Sam Chandler.

  “I’m Jake Kearney, Claire’s brother. Am I right in assuming you’re Will Reardon?”

  “You are. And I am.”

  Reardon’s face turned a chalky white. Jake wondered if Claire had been making threats of violence on his behalf without his knowledge. His sister was nothing, if not resourceful.