She sank down on the welcome softness. “I could definitely use some sleep.” She looked up at him. “And since we’re being honest, I have to tell you that I really didn’t enjoy singing all that much.”
He laughed. “I know you can sing, so I’m not gonna say I told you so…but now I know you’re just as stubborn as I am when you have your mind set on something.” He bent, kissed her forehead, then straightened and turned toward his pallet.
She grabbed his arm.
“Lay with me.” She edged back on the bed and patted the space in front of her.
“Are you sure?” He searched the depths of her eyes.
“Yes, as long as all we do is sleep.”
“Honey,” he said with a grin, “that’s about all I have the energy for right now.”
* * * *
Zach’s eyes popped open. His pulse thudded. How long had he slept? His arm was numb under the weight of Odessa’s head. As much as he hated the idea, he had to leave the pleasure of her body spooned against his.
Gently, he slipped his arm from beneath her and inched off the bed. Taking care not to wake her, he picked up his boots, plopped on his hat, and tiptoed across the floor to where his gun hung. Still sleeping, Odessa rolled over and drew up her knees, exposing the same shapely legs he’d lusted over through the saloon window. A tiny mewl escaped her bow-shaped lips. While Zach fastened his holster, he etched her beautiful face in his mind before sneaking out the door, boots in hand.
In the hallway, once shod, he straightened his Stetson and made his way down the stairs. His gut twisted. The danger he’d downplayed to Odessa suddenly seemed all too real. What if he had just glimpsed her for the last time?
Helplessness engulfed him. But he’d come too far to back out. Everything rode on being careful and not doing anything stupid to get himself killed. He’d already been beaten up for being late, so what were the chances Spence would spare him for chickening out? The odds were in Zach’s favor if he kept his promise to the gang. He had no other choice.
He noticed the street appeared fairly empty. Most people still having their mid-day repast, he supposed. His stomach growled, having missed two meals himself, but he hastened his steps toward the livery. A breeze fluttered newly hung orange posters nailed to structure-supporting beams and storefronts, but he dared not take time to read one. His body couldn’t take another pounding for being tardy. He stood outside the stable for a moment and took long, slow breaths, then crept inside.
“Anyone here yet?” He searched beyond the stalls for Spence and the others.
“Yeah, by the far wall.”
Zach moved in the direction of the voice and found the group, minus one. To keep his nervous hands from shaking, he hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Where’s Axel?
“He rode out about an hour ago,” Spence explained. “We’ll lessen suspicion if we don’t leave town together. You and T.J. will ride out to the east, and circle back. Burt and I’ll go in the other direction.”
“Where are we heading?”
Spence flicked an icy glare at Zach. “You ask too damn many questions. You sure you aren’t a lawman?”
Despite jangled nerves, Zach laughed. “T.J. can tell you I’m not.” He nudged the man. “I’m not even a good poker player, am I?”
T.J. nodded and focused on Spence. “He’s all right, boss. Like I told you, he’s just hungry for money like the rest of us.”
“I took your word for it, T.J. If I find out different, you’re both dead men.”
Zach’s shoulders tensed, but he said nothing. By process of elimination, he eyed Burt, but spun his glance away before giving into the urge to pummel the bastard. How dare such filth touch Odessa!
“Saddle up, you two and get going.” Spence glared at Zach and T.J. “We’ve got a fifteen mile ride ahead and I don’t want to cut time too short between our arrival and when the stage passes by the appointed place. I checked on the way here and the board outside the station says the coach is running on schedule.”
* * * *
The sun blazed bright in the western sky, creating a dynamic background to a landscape filled with saguaro cactus and scrub brush. Sweat trickled from Zach’s brow and dampened his shirt. Storm kept pace with T.J.’s roan. They’d left Charleston, circled back as Spence had directed, and rode at a medium pace. The clopping hooves filled the awkward silence and niggled at Zach’s nerves. “So, why did you join the gang?”
T.J. turned and looked at him. “Same as you. Money.” He turned his gaze forward again, his voice lowered. “I lost my wife to cholera a few years back. We’d sold the ratty shack we lived in and joined a wagon train. I planned to homestead a piece of land, build a decent home….” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “After she died, I took my two sons to my folks, but there wasn’t room for all of us to live there. I’ve been driftin’, trying to find a job so I can build a proper home and get my children back, but….”
The sorrow and longing in the man’s voice tugged at Zach. “Sorry for your loss. I understand your urgency. Like I told you in Phoenix, I joined up in order to save the land I share with my pa. Since then, I’ve met a gal I’d like to take home and maybe build a future with.” He recalled the shocked look on her face when he finally came clean. “She was none too pleased when I told her my plans, but I couldn’t keep the truth from her forever.”
T.J.’s gaze swept over him. “Well, if we do this right, no one will ever know our identity, and both of us might have a future—you with your lady friend and me with my boys.”
Cold shivers ran down Zach’s spine. “What could go wrong?” He hated to ask, but needed to know.
“A lot if we’re connected to Spence’s gang.” His lips thinned and he yanked the brim of his hat lower. “Like you, this is my first time at breakin’ the law, so no one knows me from Adam. But the other three already have bounty hunters tailing them. Wanted posters often take a long time to reach across state lines, so the sheriff and others in Charleston probably have no idea about Pete Spence and his sidekicks.”
“I’m not in any rush to have my picture plastered all over the place, and I certainly never intend to do this again.” Images of orange posters flashed in Zach’s mind, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he forced a chuckle. Could he really trust T.J.?
Zach turned sober. “Any idea what the others are wanted for?”
“Bank robbing, mostly. But I know they’ve have been laying low since they got to town, especially after they killed those people at the way-station.”
Cold shivered Zach to his core. Memories of the bodies he and Odessa had buried burned in his mind. “Where at?”
“One not far from Charleston. Said they gunned down a man, his wife and some businessman waiting there for the next stage.” T.J. nudged his mount faster. “We’d better hurry.”
Zach followed, his heart racing in sync with Storm’s hoof beats. If Spence and his cohorts could gun down innocent people, they wouldn’t blink an eye at shooting him. What had he gotten himself into? All the questions he should have asked raced through his mind, and one by one, answers came. He didn’t like any of them.
T.J. veered off the beaten path. His roan sped up a rocky knoll and halted near a large out-cropping of rocks. Zach followed and reined in his horse. He surveyed the area and noticed one boulder jutted out over a well-traveled trail and provided the perfect ambush spot. He dismounted and joined the others, who appeared to have recently arrived, and waited for instructions. Fear and dread pooled in his belly. At least he could rest assured that Odessa would be safe and sound in the boarding house. But for how long? a tiny voice niggled.
“Let’s kick their ass and get the Hell out of here.”
—General George Armstong Custer
Chapter Nineteen
Shivering atop the covers, Odessa woke in her dim bo
arding house room. She glanced over her shoulder and found herself alone, but wasn’t surprised. Zach had warned he’d be leaving. She missed the feel of his body pressed against hers and the safety of his arm draped across her waist while they slept. How long had he been gone?
She wriggled beneath the blanket, rolled onto her back and stared at the stained ceiling. The memory of his kiss lingered in her mind and brought warmth to her chilled body. Her fingers to her lips, she pictured his handsome face and listened to strains of bridal music in her head. The smile curving her mouth turned to a frown when the worry she’d pushed to the back of her mind ate away at the pleasant image and replaced it with visions of a corpse.
Why hadn’t she tried harder to talk him out of his outlandish scheme?
She’d done all she could, and now she’d endure the torturous wait. But for how long?
She dragged herself up and sat on the edge of the bed. With a sigh, she splayed her fingers through her hair. Between worry and idle hands she was bound to go stir crazy. She hadn’t been awake five minutes and already she felt restless. “Please God, let Zach come back to me,” she prayed. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.” Her mind whirred with “what ifs.”
A rapping sound brought her to her feet. She padded to the door and cracked it open. “Yes?” She pushed her face into the opening and saw the scrawny desk clerk from downstairs.
“Ma’am.” He nodded. “Mr. Johnson paid for the rest of the week. Said I was ta look in on ya and make sure you had everything you need. Is there anything I kin get you?” He swiped his hand beneath his nose and stepped closer.
The man’s seedy appearance gave her the shivers. Filled with apprehension at his beady eyes, she tightened her grasp on the doorknob. “I-I’m getting ready for work now,” she lied. “I’ll be down to the dining room to have a bite before I go, but I’m fine for the moment, thank you.”
When he nodded again and descended the stairs, she closed the door and leaned against it. Releasing a sigh, she wondered why in the world Zach would announce to anyone that she was alone. Even more, she might be alone forever if Zach didn’t come back. What if he did die? She covered her eyes. “Oh my God, he can’t get killed. I love him.”
She lowered her hands and studied the four bleak walls. If she stayed holed up, she’d go stark raving mad. Why had she told Zach she’d give up her job? At least it would keep her mind occupied and some money in her pocket. Wait! Had she actually acquiesced—said the words? She recalled her conversation with Zach and realized she had only nodded, and that could mean anything. Maybe she was splitting hairs, but Mr. Rearden expected her to show up tonight. And didn’t she owe it to herself to hold onto the position and keep earning money…just in case? She shook her head and chomped down on her knuckle. There was no “just in case” involved. Singing was only a way to bide her time until Zach returned.
* * * *
In Pearlie’s old room, Odessa lifted her foot to the bed and laced one of the same scuffed white boots she’d worn the night before. The departed harlot had left enough dresses to outfit Odessa for over a week, and tonight, an emerald green frock had won her selection method of blind finger pointing. The soft, silky material clung to her like the peel on a cucumber, and she fretted over fresh rips in the black-netted stockings. No use crying over spilled milk, she reminded herself, then switched feet and tied the laces of the other boot. She straightened and turned to the mirror. Exposing so much body seemed sinful, but what choice did she have?
She pulled her gaze from her bosom and focused on her face. Flo would insist on doing something outlandish to Odessa’s hair. Better she fix it using something less flamboyant than that blasted peacock feather. She copied the previous night’s upswept style, leaving fringes alongside her cheeks, but added only a bow in a matching color just above her right ear. Worry had left her pale, so she added a smear of red to her cheeks and a touch to her lips. She licked away a little of the excess color from her mouth then rolled her eyes. She might be only the singer, but blended in with the saloon’s “tarnished angels,” one would be hard pressed to tell the difference.
Sighing, she turned the doorknob and ambled out into the hallway. She stopped at the banister and peered over the railing. The stale smell of booze, cigars, and sweat drifted up to meet her. Already, a row of cowboys lined the long bar. Flo and her girls, dressed in bright rainbow colors and adorned with feathers and frills mingled among them. The men swigged down drinks as if they’d just crawled in from the desert. Perhaps they had. Cattle drives were frequent in most towns, why not Charleston? The fellas certainly looked the part. Powdered dust discolored their sweat-stained hats and covered their shirts. Sprouting whiskers marked days without a razor. Despite similarities, these men were not part of the unkempt group from last night who Flo insisted were regulars.
Alf looked up, smiled, and motioned for her to join him. He wasn’t the only one happy to see her, if the cacophony of catcalls and solicitous invitations were any indication.
Her heart pounded beneath her partially exposed bosom, but she averted her gaze from the bar area and focused on getting safely down the stairs. High-heeled boots would never become a preference. As she teetered toward the piano, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
She spun around.
“Hey… uh…pretty miss.” A dark-haired young man whisked off his hat and smiled. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and repeatedly cleared his throat. His gaze drifted to her bosom, but bobbed back up as his cheeks reddened. “H-how ’bout joining me for a few drinks?”
Long locks, in sore need of a barber, almost reached his shoulders, and a stray curl, freed from confinement, plopped onto his forehead. Through the dust he created as he slapped his hat against his leg, he looked much younger than Zach.
Odessa held her hand to her nose until the cloud cleared, then returned his smile. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m only here to sing. And I don’t imbibe.”
He raised a brow. “A sasparilla perhaps?”
“Thank you, but no. I have to work now.”
He pulled out a chair at the table nearest the piano and sat. “Well, if you sound as good as you look, I’m sure we’re all in for a treat. So, I’m gonna perch right here and give a listen.”
Feeling a flush creeping up her neck, she forced a grin. If he sat any closer, he’d be in Alf’s lap. The young gent’s puppy dog eyes made her palms turn damp. She moved to the stack of sheet music atop the piano and began sorting through the pages.
“You’re a vision of loveliness.” Alf’s voice drew her gaze. His slicked hair still looked wet, and he had shaved. His signature suspenders were tightly fastened over a shirt not nearly as stained as the one he wore yesterday. When cleaned up, he didn’t look half bad—through still not nearly as handsome as Zach.
“Thank you,” she muttered, trying to ignore the adoring eyes peering over Alf’s shoulder.
He glanced at the bar. “Looks like we’ve got a whole new crowd this evenin’. And…it appears you’ve already gained an admirer.” He flicked his gaze to the table behind him then back to her, a grin curving his lips.
Odessa’s cheeks heated. “Can we just move along, please? I’ve arranged the sheet music in my preferred singing order.”
He pulled down the first sheet. “Camptown Ladies? Weren’t you grumblin’ about this one last night?”
She smiled. “I suppose I was, but it’s inevitable you’re going to play it several times, so we might as well begin with it.”
As the piano plunked out the tune, Odessa’s voice joined in. Flo and her girls picked their partners and dragged them out onto the dance floor. Clapping hands, stomping feet, and an occasional “yee haw” gave the evening a lively start. The clanking of coins in the jar atop the piano sounded as sweet as rainfall in a drought.
* * * *
After six songs, Odessa took
a break and fetched a glass of water from the bartender. Rather than risk offending the young cowboy, she carried her drink over to his table. “Mind if I join you? I’m taking a short respite.”
He jumped to his feet, and pulled out the chair in front of her—the one opposite his dusty hat. He flicked a shaggy curl from his ebony eyes. “Please, ma’am, I’d be honored.”
She sat and inched her chair forward. With her elbows on the table, she leaned in so he could hear her over the loud voices in the room. “Are you far from home?”
“Quite a ways. I come from Show Low.”
She leaned on her palm. “I think I’ve heard of it. But, Show Low seems a strange name for a town.”
“Yes, ma’am. Surely is.”
“Odessa.” She pointed to herself.
He raised a brow.
“My name is Odessa. If you keep calling me ma’am, I’m going to start feeling like your school marm.”
“Oh, yes ma’a… I mean Miz Odessa.”
She swallowed a sip of water. “So, where is Show Low?”
“Up in the White Mountains, about a three or four day’s ride from Phoenix. As for its name…according to a tale told around those parts, two men who settled a no-named parcel of land didn’t get along and decided to let a poker game determine who’d have to move. One of the men supposedly said, ‘If you can show low, you win,’ and when he turned up the deuce of clubs, he did.”
She laughed. “Strange way to name a town, don’t you think?” She took a sip of water and swallowed. “I don’t believe you’ve told me your name.”
“John…John Harper, ma’am.”
She peered down her nose and grinned. “What did I tell you about calling me ma’am?”
“Uh… sorry, Miz Odessa. Say, was you named after the town in Texas?”
“In a way, I suppose. My ma read a book a long time ago about a place far away called Russia. She came across Odessa as the name of a region there. I’ve heard tell that Odessa, Texas is named for that very same place.”
Odessa Page 13