“Not necessarily. A real drifter roams aimlessly, but you sound as if you plan your moves before taking them. You left the station before the stage and a horse travels faster, so how did you fall behind?”
He eyed her up and down and grinned. “Very observant and sharp-witted. Was I suppose to be in a hurry to reach Tucson?”
“What’s in Tucson to lure you there?” she kept firing questions at him since he seemed willing to answer them, which surprised her.
“Mighty nosey about strangers, aren’t we?” he teased.
“Since we’re trapped out here alone, I’d like to make certain I can trust you. For all I know, that could be your gang you double-crossed and gunned down so you could steal that alleged strongbox for yourself. You could have been checking us over this morning at the station. Do you mind answering my questions to calm my worries?”
“I certainly don’t need or want an hysterical female on my hands. I’m heading for the mines near Tucson. You’ve heard of the Specie Resumption Act of ’75. The government needs lots of gold to trade for those worthless greenbacks. Arizona has plenty of gold and silver.”
“You don’t look like a miner to me.”
He laughed. It sounded rich and mellow, and his smokey gray eyes filled with amusement. “I’m not. Freight lines need drivers and guards, and those jobs pay plenty. Might be interesting for a while.”
Carrie Sue tugged on her lower lip with her upper teeth, a habit which revealed her suspicion of him and his words. “You don’t look like a wagon driver or guard either.”
He was impressed by her cunning, wits, and courage. She was direct without being forward. From now on, he needed to pay close attention to what he said and did around her. “I take it you’ve seen enough miners, drivers, and guards to recognize them at forty paces.”
She frowned again at his new jest. “What I meant was, you don’t strike me as a man who takes or follows orders from others. Isn’t that right?” she probed.
“Maybe that’s why I can’t stay put for long in one place. But a man has to eat, so he needs money. If he gets it the wrong way, his lazy days are over. Frankly, Ma’am, I don’t hanker to have the law on my tail day and night, so I watch my steps and guns.”
Once more Carrie Sue’s teeth toyed with her lower lip, exposing her mistrust. This man was not behaving as he should! She knew that loners were not talkers, so why was he doing so much of it?
The gunslinger wondered the same thing. Everywhere he went, people accused him of being silent and moody, of being cold and hard and tough. Yet, this clever female had a strange way of pulling words from his mouth, of warming and disarming him. He was actually enjoying their controlled banter. But he wanted to know a few things about her. He wanted to ask why she hid her exceptional looks beneath plain dresses and simple hairstyles; why she had no ring on her finger; why she was so curious about him; why her hand had gone to her waist at the home station like a reflex of a gunslinger; why her hands were so rough and her nails so jagged; why she was scared of him; and why she had watched his presence and departure so intensely. Those queries would certainly frighten her into silence. Perhaps she was fleeing a brutal father or a cruel marriage and was wary of strangers. All he asked was, “Why are you heading for Tucson, Miss Starns?”
“How do you know my name?” she demanded, looking and sounding angry and distressed.
He wondered if he had read a brief gleam of terror in her lovely eyes. He also noticed how her hand tightened on the gun butt in her hand. “I asked the guard before I rode off this morning.”
“Why?” she asked in a strained voice.
He shrugged and replied, “You caught my eye.”
Carrie Sue could not suppress a smile. “What’s your name?”
“T.J. Rogue.”
Her violet-blue gaze widened and she looked him over again. She recognized his name. He was a famous gunslinger. Gossip said he was one of the fastest, if not the fastest, guns in the West. Rumor also said he hired out to settle dangerous problems for other people. He was supposed to be tough, cold, hard, and relentless, but she did not find him that way. If anybody knew how gossip could be exaggerated or fabricated, she did! At times she had observed a resentful, almost bitter, air about him and wondered what had birthed those emotions. One thing, he was careful and highly intelligent because he wasn’t wanted by the law, as far as she knew.
T.J. realized she had heard his name before, but if he had met her in the past, he would certainly recall it. “You’ve heard of me,” he said, a statement instead of a question. “Where? When? What were you told?”
“Are you really as good as your reputation claims? One of the best guns in Texas? A man who settles problems others can’t? Or should I say the fastest gun in the entire West?”
“No man is the fastest and best for very long. Another gunman always comes along who is swifter and better. Does it frighten you to be alone with the notorious T.J. Rogue, Miss Starns?”
“Actually, Mr. Rogue, having heard of your enormous reputation and having witnessed your skills, it makes me feel safer. If rumor can be trusted, you’re more legendary than notorious. Tell me, does it make you feel odd to be the subject of countless campfire tales?”
“A man can’t help what others say or think about him. Let’s get moving. I want to reach the next station before dark.” He tugged his hat down on his forehead and wiggled it into place, indicating their conversation was closed for now.
The redhead inquired, “Don’t you think you should check those bandits. Someone could be alive.”
“Not unless I’m losing my touch, Miss Starns. When I pull my gun, I shoot to kill. That’s something you should always remember: never draw a weapon unless you intend to use it or you’ll get hurt. You know any of these passengers?”
“No. They’ve only been on the stage a day or two, and I caught it at Fort Worth. None of us were talkers.”
They gathered the outlaw’s bodies and loaded them inside the stage with the slain passengers and driver. Carrie Sue glanced at the soldier’s wife and unwillingly recalled another woman’s murder in March near San Angelo. But that time, a small girl had been slain, too. She had to forget those incidents; she had to look to a bright future.
While her ebon-haired partner retrieved the guard’s body down the road and fetched the horses, Carrie Sue recovered her purse and buttons and hurriedly changed clothes, a fact T.J. noticed when he returned. He liked the multi-colored dress she was wearing; its brighter colors suited her better. He secured the horses’ reins to the back of the stage, but allowed his black stallion to remain free.
“You forgot your horse,” she told him.
“Nighthawk stays with me unless I order him otherwise. He’ll run alongside of us.” As he replaced her smaller bag atop the coach, he pointed to the large chest hidden beneath the driver’s box and commented, “Gold makes men go crazy with greed; it gets ‘em into trouble. Obviously those bandits knew this stage was loaded.”
“I wonder how,” she mused. “I thought Garrett lines didn’t haul mail or strongboxes to insure passengers’ safety and comfort. That’s why I chose them over Butterfield in Fort Worth. They’re responsible for this slaughter. I’ll register a complaint when I reach the next station.”
He concurred, “I would too; it nearly got you killed. Let’s tend those scratches and get moving.”
The daring desperado allowed T.J. to doctor her scrapes with soothing ointment from his saddlebag. His touch was surprisingly gentle and warm. She wondered if he was tempted by the gold. All he had to do was get rid of her—the solitary witness—and take it. No one would guess the truth and he’d be rich.
When she trembled, his eyes left her injuries to look at her. She hurriedly averted her gaze and stood silently before him. When she began to fidget, he knew he was affecting her in the same way she was affecting him. He released her hand. “What’s in Tucson for you?”
Carrie Sue kept her telltale gaze on her hands. “I’m heading
there to become the town’s new schoolmarm.”
His gaze narrowed, but remained pleasant. He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, a clue the redhead already guessed revealed his doubts about something. “A teacher. That explains why you’re so inquisitive and ask so many questions.”
“It’s the best way to learn anything and to stay out of trouble.”
“Only if people tell you the truth,” he nonchalantly refuted.
“If you’re smart enough to know they’re lying or being evasive, that tells you a great deal about them and the situation.”
He chuckled and his smokey eyes glowed. “You’re right on that point, Miss Starns. You’re very smart and brave.”
“For a woman?” she teased.
“For anybody,” he replied, then grinned.
T.J. helped her onto the driver’s box and lifted the reins and whip. “Ready?” he asked.
Carrie Sue placed the pistol in her lap and nodded.
The gunslinger glanced at it, then looked into her periwinkle eyes.
“Just in case there’s more trouble, I want to be prepared.”
“Like I said, smart and brave.”
As they traveled along the dusty road, Carrie Sue contemplated the man beside her. He didn’t seem tempted by the large amount of gold beneath his feet if it meant killing her and breaking the law to obtain it. Perhaps if they’d all been dead when he attacked the bandits, he might have taken it just as she had stolen Carolyn Starns’s identity and possessions. He was basically a decent and honest man, but private. He had not tried to capture her. Surely that also meant he hadn’t guessed her dark secret, as that much gold should be more tempting to a gunslinger than the rewards posted on her and her brother’s gang. Normally she was not this open and talkative, nor was he. Obviously there was an attraction between them which relaxed them. She wondered how long he would stay in Tucson. Yet, it couldn’t matter to her. It was too risky starting a romance with any man, particularly a man like Rogue. It would make her too vulnerable to discovery and defeat. She had to resist him.
T.J. was thinking much the same. She didn’t look like a school teacher, and she possessed a trail instinct which most men would envy. Her lips were full, her nose was wide, and her eyes were large. Separately none of those features were beautiful, but put them together beneath a flaming head of hair and the result was exquisite. At this moment, she looked so soft and vulnerable. But he knew better. Lordy, what a fetching and intriguing vixen she was. And frankly, he was aching to make her his vixen.
That was impossible. He would never be able to love her as she deserved to be loved. He was always on the move and doubted he could settle down in one place. He had tried, but had failed in every attempt. To date, the women he had known fell into two sacks: spoiled daughters of rich and powerful men, who pretended to be angels outside but were black devils inside, and whores in saloons who were filled with bitterness, most too weak to break away from a life they despised. But this woman was different, and different could mean trouble for him!
For the first time he asked himself if he was as cold and hard as people claimed, or he led them to believe. He had been forced to become that way to survive. His parents had been killed by Apaches when he was seven and he had been raised by the Indians until he was thirteen. After being rescued by the cavalry, he had been placed in Father Rafael Ortega’s mission in San Antonio, Texas. He had become a street kid—“a half-savage rogue”—until running off to the war in ’62 to see how the white tribes battled. Upon returning to Texas in ’65, he had wandered aimlessly, facing new challenges every day, always into trouble, never fitting in anywhere.
Yes, he admitted, he had been tough, unrelenting, embittered. He had been separated from his brother after their capture and had never seen Tim again. Then, last winter he’d learned that his brother was a major at Fort Davis near the Mexican border. But fate had played him cruel again, allowing Tim to be slain by Mexican renegades before they could be reunited.
Then, the beautiful Arabella and precious little Marie had been murdered two months ago during a holdup near San Angelo. He had planned to give up his perilous existence and settle down with them, but that ill-fated dark cloud over his head had prevented it. As soon as he hunted down and killed the piece of scum who had barbwired him to a tree, he would stalk the gang responsible for Arabella’s and Marie’s deaths. The law wouldn’t interfere if he killed them on the spot!
Despite his earlier troubles and “sorry attitude,” he had always managed to stay an inch on the right side of the law by finding a way to provoke an enemy into a legal showdown. Hopefully he could do the same with those cold-blooded killers of his loved ones. Nearly everyone and everything he had loved had been taken from him, so it was a big risk to lean toward the woman beside him. Maybe his destiny was to remain a loner who cleared the earth of vermin, so why keep fighting it?
He glanced at the gold chest below his feet. That much treasure would tempt any man, including him. He couldn’t steal it. But, Lordy, he could dream about taking it and the fiery treasure beside him! What a fine life that would be…
Carrie Sue furtively observed T.J. She wondered what was more important to this man than easy riches. When he glanced her way, she read such resentment and anguish in his smokey eyes before he swiftly looked ahead again. Her heart twinged in empathy. She wanted to ease his suffering. Terrible things must have compelled him into his miserable existence. She wondered if he even realized how unhappy he was, how much he wanted and needed love. Yes, underneath that hard exterior was a gentle man aching for peace. She was certain of it because she felt the same. Was he the kind of man, the only man, who could understand what she had done and been, could forgive it and forget it?
Back off, Carrie Sue. You’re dancing too close to the fire, she warned herself. She didn’t know much about love and commitment, but she knew a tormented man like T.J. Rogue could burn her badly.
“Where are you from, Miss Starns?” he interrupted her musings.
Carrie Sue called Carolyn Starns’s life to mind. “Originally from back East, but I’ve been teaching in St. Louis for the past two years. I lost my job to the mayor’s daughter. She wanted it, so papa got it for her. I read about the position in Tucson in the paper. Fortunately I was the only teacher to answer their advertisement. I don’t know why because the pay is excellent. Lots of successful ranchers and miners in that area. I’ve been traveling for weeks, so I’m more than ready to get there and take on those little hellions.”
“Little hellions?” he echoed.
“If you’ve been to school, Mr. Rogue, surely you remember how boys behave when cooped up like feisty roosters all day.”
They shared laughter before he remarked playfully, “You don’t look like a schoolmarm to me.”
“And you would recognize one at forty paces?” she teased.
They laughed again. “Nope, but I’ve never seen one who looks like you. Those boys will be lucky to face you every day.”
“Only if they do their lessons the night before. I can be very tough.”
“I know you can, but I wouldn’t have believed you if I hadn’t seen how skillfully you handled yourself back there. You surely know a lot about a lot of things.”
Carrie Sue smiled. “I read and study all the time, an occupational necessity and curse. Too, if I weren’t strong and hard, those children would run all over me. Fear, Mr. Rogue, is the only way to control boys twice your size and nearly your age.”
He eyed her with a sensual grin. “I’d imagine you have other ways to control rowdy males. Just give ‘em a smile and they’ll do anything you ask.” She smiled radiantly and he laughed. “I didn’t mean for you to use that power on me. You forgetting we’re out here alone? If you want me to remain a gentleman, better holster that weapon and don’t draw it again unless you intend to use it.”
As if trying to obey his mischievous warning, Carrie Sue placed her left hand over her mouth as merry laughter spilled forth. “You’
re quite a charming man, Mr. Rogue.”
“That’s one word which hasn’t been used before to describe me. Why don’t you call me T.J.?” he suggested.
“If you’ll call me Ca-rolyn and tell me more about you.”
“Why not? My folks were killed by Apaches when I was a boy. Then, I was raised in a mission orphanage. I ran away at fifteen to see what all the ruckus was about in the East. I fought a few battles and returned to Texas when the war ended. I’ve had just about every kind of job there is, but none of them kept my interest, and certainly didn’t pay me enough to become my own boss. The last job I had was herding cattle to market. Months on a dusty trail in all kinds of weather. I plan to rest up a spell in Tucson, then hire out as a mine guard. When I get bored, I’ll move on. One thing, you learn a lot while drifting around and trying out different jobs. You a widow?” he asked suddenly, returning the conversation to her.
“No, I’ve never been married. Have you?”
“Was that your choice or was every man you’ve met dumb and blind?”
He guided the stage off the public road to the Garrett station. Although it couldn’t be seen through the dense growth of billowy mesquite, thick paloverde, and numerous branches of cacti, T.J. knew something was wrong: it was too quiet, and he smelled recent smoke. Just as those perceptions settled in, the winding road reached the clearing.
Before she could respond to his question, he shouted, “Hold on tight, Carolyn! Trouble ahead! Whoa, boys!” The moment she braced herself, he stomped on the brake lever and pulled back hard on the reins, halting the stage with skill and strength. He scolded himself for his lack of attention, a result of his intriguing companion.
Carrie Sue’s eyes went from his scowling face to the scene before them. The home station had been destroyed by a fire and bodies were sighted here and there, with arrows protruding from them.
Kiss Of The Night Wind Page 4