“How old are you and how long have you been a teacher?” he asked.
“I’m twenty-one, almost twenty-two. I’ve been teaching for two years,” she replied without looking at him. Lying to T.J. left a bad taste in her mouth, but it couldn’t be helped.
“How did you get into teaching?”
“My parents were teachers back East. We lived in Charleston. But there were many problems in South Carolina after the war. Northern Carpetbaggers tried to take over everything. They even wanted to control what the children learned in school, and the new books were very biased against the South. One of the newcomers kept giving my mother a hard time. My father was forced to kill him for trying to attack her. We were lucky there were witnesses in his favor, but the law warned us it would be best for everyone if we left Carolina. We tried a few towns in neighboring states, but they didn’t work out. Papa decided to move to St. Louis and open a private school there. Mama and I were going to teach in it. But there was an accident, our buggy overturned while we were looking for a place to build. They were killed and I was knocked unconscious. When I recovered, I took over the job at a local school, until a spoiled brat wanted it.”
T.J. wondered why she sounded like she was reciting a lesson rather than relating her history. His intrigue gave him the chance to get other things off his mind, such as where and how this stimulating evening would end. “So you found this job and headed for Tucson.”
Their conversation did the same for Carrie Sue, as she focused on her false tale. “It was in the newspaper, and I responded. Many people heading west get stranded in St. Louis, so I guess they thought it was a good place to search for a teacher. I caught the Butterfield stage to Fort Worth, then the Garrett line from there. Garrett was suppose to be cheaper and safer, and I could see more sights at a slower pace.”
“What’s a teacher’s existence like?”
Carrie Sue hoped that her willingness to converse would inspire him to do the same. “I’ll have grades one through eight. Classes run Monday through Friday from eight until four. I’m suppose to start school on June fifth and work until August. If I do a good job during that two month period, I’ll be hired permanently to begin in September. I’ll be paid one hundred dollars a month, which is an excellent salary.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about such a good job and pay.”
“Can you blame me? Martin Ferris wanted to come observe, but I hope I talked him out of it.” She related what she had told the man. “He would make me and the students nervous with his little visits. This was a big move for me, T.J.; I have to do good and make it work. It could be my last ch—,” she faltered at his alert gaze. “Chance to prove myself. It’s important to me. Tell me more about you,” she encouraged when the music halted.
“There isn’t anything more to tell you than you already know. I’m a simple man. I live, I breathe, I travel.” Mentally he added, And I want you like crazy, woman! He lowered his gaze for a time to master his runaway emotions.
“And you’re private and shy,” she added and laughed. Carrie Sue watched him grin and listened closely to his merry chuckle, a reaction that mellowed his smokey gray gaze and softened his features. She liked the way his dark gray shirt seemed to make his arresting eyes appear the same shade and the way his sun-bronzed skin made his teeth appear white when he smiled broadly. She longed to run her fingers through his midnight mane and over his tanned face. She wanted her hands to roam his chest. He looked so splendid tonight, so clean, so healthy, so vital and alive, so downright irresistible. Concentrate, girl, or you’ll make a fool of yourself in front of everybody, especially him! “Where are you staying?” she asked nervously.
His gaze shifted to the ceiling as he said, “Up there. That’s how I know the food here is good.”
“I thought that woman smiled too long at a stranger,” she teased.
“Jealous?” he hinted with a mirthful laugh.
“Of course. I don’t like women looking at my partner like that.”
“I see,” he murmured with a lopsided grin. “Possessive, huh?”
“I suppose that bad trait goes along with being stubborn, impulsive, and fiery-tempered: the ill fortunes of being a redhead.”
T.J. leaned forward on the table. His left thumb rubbed his jawline as his first two fingers captured his strong chin between them. His gaze slipped over her tawny red hair, and he liked how she was wearing it tonight. The pulled back style revealed more of her lovely face and made her look more genteel and exquisite than when she tried to hide it beneath a hat or secure it in a snug bun. “Do you honestly have any bad traits, Miss Starns?”
Carrie Sue tingled at the way he was watching her. Surely his mood and gaze meant she was having the same effect on him that he was having on her, and that pleased her. She relaxed even more as she replied, “Plenty of them. Haven’t you noticed?”
T.J. stared into her merry eyes and said, “Nope.”
“Good, then I don’t have to worry about trying to conceal them.”
“Have you noticed mine?” he asked.
“Do you have any?” she parried, feigning playful innocence.
“Of course not,” he answered, then licked his lips. Lordy, he mused, how his mouth hungered to close over her sweet one and to feast there. She was absolutely bewitching, and he didn’t mind her magical pull at all. In fact, he found it amazing and intriguing that a near stranger—even a beautiful one—could touch him this way. As a man who liked and needed to grasp all angles of a matter, he knew this curious one would require lots of study, close and pleasant study.
The food came: enchiladas, refried beans, Spanish rice, soft tacos, and tasty burritos. “Gracias,” she told the woman. It was spicy, but delicious. Carrie Sue ate with eagerness.
“Well?” he hinted as he watched her with keen interest.
The smiling fugitive noticed that T.J. was using his left hand to hold his fork. Either he used both hands equally, or he wanted challengers to think he was righthanded. If so, it was a clever ruse to entice foes to watch the wrong fingers during a gunfight. She said, “The best I’ve had, Mr. Rogue. You were right about this place.”
He grinned and asked her if she wanted to taste his tequila. She looked around, smiled, and reached for his glass. She took a small sip, rolled it on her tongue, and swallowed. “Strong,” she murmured.
As he refilled the glass from the bottle left on their table, he said, “It’s made from the agava, that tall yellow plant you mainly see on hillsides. It’s potent, so drink it slow. If you drink too much, you get real thirsty and your head kills you the next day.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have any more.”
“Perhaps, Miss Starns. I wouldn’t want you getting drunk on me,” he said, but knew he would love to see her with her guard completely lowered and with all inhibitions gone, but in private.
“The town council would love that news,” she teased.
“I bet they would, especially Martin Ferris.”
“Let’s don’t spoil our supper with talk of him,” she entreated. All she wanted tonight was to think of T.J., to be with him, to be the only thing on his mind. She wanted and needed to know all about him and all about the wild emotions he stirred within her.
“Fine with me,” he concurred, leaving the full glass of tequila near her plate. As he sipped his and ate his meal, he asked, “What do you plan to do when you retire? How long do teachers usually stay on the job and in one place?”
Carrie Sue unthinkingly took sips from the glass. She liked tequila, and it relaxed her tonight. It made her feel happy, weightless, and trouble-free. “I haven’t planned that far ahead,” she replied, her wits clear enough to realize he wouldn’t buy Carolyn’s story about a dress shop. “I have lots of good years left. You normally remain in the same place until you retire, unless there’s a problem.”
“Like the one you had in St. Louis?”
“Yep, or the one I might have here with…” She halted and sighed in annoyance.
She downed the remaining inch of golden liquid in her glass. “It’s your turn to do some talking, mister.”
The smokey-eyed gunslinger refilled their glasses. “And say what?”
“When are you going after that man who used barbwire on you? And what mine are you planning to work for? Surely not Ferris’s!”
“Nope, not his, but I haven’t looked around yet. I’ll hold off a while longer on my revenge; he’s probably still watching out for me. First, I have to find the best way to ruin him, and catch him by surprise.”
“If he’s a rancher, snag him where it’ll hurt the most. Cut his fences. Burn his barns and fields. Steal his payrolls. Rustle his cattle.”
T.J.’s eyes widened. “Where did a gentle schoolmarm like you learn about such stuff? Most of it’s illegal.”
Carrie Sue pushed aside her drink and reached for her black coffee. “I read those ten-cent novels. They have some good ideas in them. The good man always finds a way to defeat his enemies, even bad lawmen and cattle barons and politicians. You have to take risks with enemies, or they’ll get away with their crimes. Have you ever been tempted to become an outlaw? Didn’t that gold tempt you to take it?’
“Yep, that gold was tempting, but not enough to challenge the law.” He didn’t add, what tempted me most was you, woman, but taking you captive was more dangerous than taking that gold.
Carrie Sue suddenly remembered something: he had been in this area “a dozen times,” and he had worked for Francisco Carrillo once. She wondered if he had known Martin Ferris before she arrived here, but didn’t ask. “Do you have family, T.J.?”
“Nope. How about you?”
She looked sad as she shook her head, believing her brother was lost to her if she remained as Carolyn Starns. “What do you plan to do when you retire from being a gunslinger and a drifter?”
“Don’t know yet.” He asked himself how a St. Louis schoolmarm had heard of him and why she’d said “campfire tales.” He had to start paying closer attention to her words! That, he concluded, was nearly impossible with the stunning creature so near and inviting! He tried another subject, “You certainly had a tough time getting to Tucson. I’m surprised you didn’t turn back.”
Tensed and lightheaded, the redhead remarked before thinking clearly, “That holdup and Indian raid weren’t my only misadventures on the way here. The soldier’s wife you saw at the station killed herself right in front of me. She was terrified of what those outlaws would do, so she grabbed a gun and shot herself before I could stop her. When I was on the Butterfield stage, it crashed outside Sherman trying to get away from outlaws. A Texas Ranger was killed. I only survived because the cavalry arrived in time to chase them away. It was scary. But I don’t want to talk about that. Tell me about your travels,” she encouraged.
“I’ve been lots of places, but none of them were special enough to entice me to settle down there. This hot box certainly doesn’t.”
“I know what you mean. I’m not sure I’m going to like it here.” She dabbed at perspiration from the hot food, strong drink, and heat.
T.J eyed her intently, thinking how much he would enjoy a bath in a cold stream with her. He watched her dab at the glistening moisture on her face, and had the oddest urge to taste the salty liquid forming there. He shifted in his chair and warned himself to discard such thoughts. “What will you do if your opinion doesn’t change?”
“Look for a cooler and prettier place to move. Maybe Colorado, or California, or back East. The South is beautiful and pleasant.”
“I noticed that during the war, but I’m pretty much a Texan.”
“A Texan?” she echoed, her voice sounding strained. What if he’d heard about that holdup near Sherman? What if he knew it was the Stover Gang? What if he thought it was odd that two redheads were involved? She was wanted in Texas, Oklahoma, New Mexico, and Kansas. But Quade’s detective had not exposed her in Sante Fe or Laredo, so no one in those towns could reveal her appearance. She had to chain her tongue and clear her wits!
The ebon-haired man had been furtively watching her strange reaction, and he became alert. “Most of the people I know best live there. Lots of jobs with high pay. She’s a big state so it gives me plenty of room to stretch my legs.”
“Which area do you like best?”
“The middle.”
“Why?” she probed.
He chuckled. “I just told you why. You getting dazed on that tequila? Maybe I should take you home now,” he suggested playfully.
Carrie Sue took his last words as a hint the wonderful evening was over. Yet, she teased, “Because you have other plans or because I’m being too nosey?”
He wished he did have other plans for tonight, other than taking this lady home after supper! But, she was a lady, so he could do no less without scaring her off or soiling her reputation, and he didn’t want that to happen. He looked her in the eye and answered, “Both.”
“Good, an honest man, and a brave one,” she said with a smile. “I’m finished, so we can leave now,” she said reluctantly. She didn’t think he was trying to end the evening abruptly because he wasn’t having a good time, but she knew she was making him apprehensive. A man like this one would value his privacy.
T.J. didn’t want to take her home, but he was anxious about talking with her. There was little he could tell her tonight, and he didn’t want to sit around in strained silence or fire too many curious questions her way. A few minutes at a time with her was what he needed, time enough to see her but not enough to get a probing conversation going about him. Lordy, she made him nervous, like a green soldier on his first Indian raid. Too, he made her awfully nervous, but why? She had him plenty confused!
They traveled to the boarding house without talking. Carrie Sue pretended to observe her surroundings. “It’s cooler tonight.”
“Yep, it is.” As he halted the carriage, he asked, “Is it all right if I come by tomorrow to show you a horse I’ve found?”
She smiled. “What time?”
“About ten, so you can ride him before it gets hot. I don’t want the sun roasting that pretty head of yours.”
“Thanks, I’ll be waiting,” she said as he helped her down. She realized he wouldn’t try to kiss her tonight; he was too much of a gentleman, despite his rough existence. This contradiction in character and personality intrigued and delighted her. It also told Carrie Sue that he believed she was a real lady, and he was a hard man to dupe. That conclusion gave her confidence about succeeding in her new life here in Tucson.
T.J. wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her but it was too soon to expose such hot desires, and someone might see them. He watched the moonlight dance on her tawny highlights and caress her face. He couldn’t risk speaking again because his throat felt constricted with yearning. He smiled, tipped his hat, and left in the carriage.
Carrie Sue watched him ride away, thinking how tight-lipped he could get at times. She hadn’t learned much more about him. Why was he so secretive? How could he expect to spend time with her without talking? Maybe he just didn’t know how to deal with women, or maybe she made him extra nervous. At least he kept coming back to see her. Surely, she reasoned dreamily, that was a good sign.
When she went inside, Mrs. Thayer broke bad news to her: Martin Ferris had dropped by for a visit and one of the male boarders had told him she had left to spend the evening with T.J. Rogue.
“He was red-faced with anger. He’s gonna be trouble, Carolyn.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“He said to tell you he’ll call on you again tomorrow after dinner.”
“It won’t do him any good. I’m going riding with T.J. to try out a horse I’m considering purchasing. I need one to get around in this heat and he was kind enough to scout about for a good buy. He’s coming for me at ten before it gets hot. Do you think I could take a picnic basket along so I won’t have to return so early and confront Martin Ferris again before Sunday?”
“I’ll prepare it m
yself,” the woman answered happily. “You two look good together, Carolyn. I bet you’re the first woman to turn his handsome head.”
“I know he’s the first to turn mine,” the redhead con fided. “But I’m hesitant about seeing him. My reputation’s at stake.”
“Don’t fret over what people here will say. People gossip no matter how spotless your reputation is. Be happy, girl. They need a teacher badly so they won’t fire you without good reason.”
“If Martin Ferris has his way, he’ll convince them my seeing a gunslinger is a good reason, or he’ll make that threat tomorrow. You wait and see, Mrs. Thayer; I’ll bet a month’s rent on it.”
“I ain’t into losing a sure bet, girl,” the woman concurred.
T.J. arrived on schedule the next morning with two horses. She met him at the corral, with a smile and a picnic basket. He told her the pinto was two years old and in excellent condition. “Do you know how to ride, Miss Starns?”
“Yes, Mr. Rogue, even schoolmarms have to get around.”
As she stroked the brown and white mare and examined the beast visually, he teased, “I thought ladies always used carriages.”
“A mount is cheaper than a buggy horse and a carriage and harnesses, and much easier to take care of. I’ve had several horses in the past, so I know how to tend them.”
“What about riding? You used to side saddle?”
“Side saddles out here are for genteel ladies and sissies.”
“What about a gun? Do you know how to shoot?” When she stared at him oddly, he explained, “The West is a dangerous place, Miss Starns. You should know how to defend yourself. I’ll give you some lessons today if you like. I even picked up a small pistol for you to try out, but we’ll need to get a good ways out of town to practice. Sheriff Myers wouldn’t like us shooting up his town and scaring his folks.”
Kiss Of The Night Wind Page 12