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Authors: Sabine Starr

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BOOK: Belle Gone Bad
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Chapter 8
B
elle slowly walked down the boardwalk in front of the Lone Star Hotel. She peered over the tops of hitching posts, hoping to find useful sign. So far she hadn't discovered anything helpful due to Main Street's churned-up dirt. She stepped down on the ground and moved back and forth, but still she saw nothing that provided a clue to Diana, her kidnapper, or the pacer.
Riders steered around her and wagons gave her a wide berth, but both kicked up dust. As she knocked the dirt off her jacket, she realized that she'd better change clothes before she went to Indian Territory. She'd be going into rough country and she didn't want to call attention to herself as Texas Belle Thompson, the bounty hunter.
She sighed. Big Jim and Mercy had turned her life upside down. She'd been headed in a known direction. Now she was headed into the unknown. But the living took precedence over the dead, no matter how well loved.
Yet she suspected that her two trails might converge. She'd been searching for a pacer since she'd seen that type of horse track at the death sites of both Tex and Hackett. Now she had to wonder if Diana's kidnapper could be the same man as Tex and Hackett's bushwhacker.
She didn't see how there could be more than one pacer in the area since Standardbreds were rarely used like Thoroughbreds as saddle horses. Pacers were popular for harness racing and as light buggy horses.
After she'd found the pacer's tracks, she'd made a point of learning about Standardbreds. Pacers left a distinctive track. They moved two legs on the same side forward together, unlike a trot where the two legs diagonally opposite each other moved forward together. A slow pace was fairly comfortable for a rider, but a fast pace was not, so the gait wasn't practical for riding fast over long distances. But a pacer could be taught a form of amble that was smoother to ride.
She assumed that she was now looking for a gray pacer specially trained to a four-beat lateral gait. A horse like that would be memorable among saddle horses with mostly dark bay coats.
When she heard the door of the hotel open, she looked around. Mercy stood there with his saddlebags and what he'd gathered for the trip. He gave her a slight smile and then nodded in the direction of Manny's Stable.
She felt warmth unfurl in the pit of her stomach at the sight of him. She couldn't understand her reaction. She hadn't been interested in anyone since Hackett, because who could hold a candle to such a perfect man? Perhaps she was simply tired and lonely. In time, she felt sure Mercy would simply drift away like the wind.
“See anything helpful?” Mercy walked to the edge of the boardwalk and glanced around.
“No.” She took a final look around before joining him. “Too many horses. They've destroyed last night's tracks.”
“Do you think you can find the trail out of town?”
“If it's there, I'll find it.”
“We're lucky one of those horses is a pacer.”
“Yes. I can pick out the hoofprints easier. But don't you think it's an odd choice for a saddle horse?”
“If it helps us find Diana, I don't care.”
“I still wonder why a kidnapper would ride a memorable horse.”
“Does it matter?”
“I get uneasy when something doesn't make sense.”
“A man can get attached to a particular horse.”
“But an outlaw who doesn't want to be noticed? I've got to think one of several things might be at work. The rider's arrogant. He's intentionally leaving a trail. He prefers a pacer.”
“Don't rule out stupidity.”
“You're right. I could be reading too much into this pacer. But so far, it's our best lead.” She didn't normally share information, but this was different. They were going to work together. “There's another thing.”
“What?”
“I found pacer tracks where both Tex and Hackett were bushwhacked.”
He looked at her in astonishment. “Do you think it's the same horse?”
“That's about the only thing that makes sense.”
“If that's the case, this might be more than a simple kidnapping.”
“Something to keep in mind.”
Mercy nodded before he glanced at the sky. “Think we ought to be on our way before clouds build up and rain washes away the trail?”
She looked up, too. “That's a beautiful blue sky. No rain today.” “How can you be sure?”
“I've lived in Texas all my life.”
“Guess that'll do it.”
“But I agree we need to get out of town. Why don't you go ahead to Manny's. I'll hurry over to the Red River Saloon, pick up my horse, and change clothes.”
“You've got clothes there?”
“Big Jim keeps a trunk for me in his rooms. It's handy when I'm passing through the area.”
“I'll go with you.”
“Why? You're loaded down. You might as well get your belongings transferred to the back of a horse.”
“I'd just as soon we stayed together.”
She sighed. “You think I'd run out on you?”
“You weren't eager to—”
“Mercy, one thing you need to understand about me. I keep my word.”
“You're my best hope. I don't want to lose you.”
“You won't.”
“Then I guess I'd better mosey over to Manny's.”
“I'll meet you there.”
When neither of them moved, Belle realized they were reluctant to separate from each other. She was so surprised by the thought that she simply stared at him. He glanced down at her mouth, then back into her eyes. She felt as if he'd brushed her lips. She slowly licked her lower lip as if to wipe away his touch or to return it. His eyes darkened to stormy gray. He abruptly turned away and headed for Manny's Stable.
She watched him for a moment, wondering at her reaction, but then shook her head. She didn't have time for flights of fancy.
Chapter 9
M
ercy took a deep breath to clear his head. He wasn't a man who was meant to give a woman a future. First, there'd been Free Love, next the curse, and finally his sickness. But Belle put him in mind of a long life filled with hot nights between cool sheets, sunny picnics reclined on soft quilts, and passionate snuggles on a bear rug before a crackling fire.
He glanced at Main Street. Life went on as usual. Folks arrived. Folks left. And some folks stayed. He wouldn't mind settling down in the Bend. It was a far cry from what he'd known back East, but it could be a good life if he had a woman like Belle by his side. But she wasn't a woman to put down roots and he wasn't a man who had any.
He watched until he saw her safely enter the Red River Saloon. He shook his head at his need to make sure she was safe in a wild town like Delaware Bend. If ever there was a woman who could take care of herself, it was Texas Belle Thompson. For once, he wished he was fast with a gun. She'd respect that skill a lot more than his ability to draw, paint, and sculpt.
“Hey, Mercy, woolgathering on Main Street ain't smart,” Manny called from the front of his livery stable.
Mercy walked over, noticing that his friend wore his usual ragged blue jeans, faded red plaid shirt, and scuffed cowboy boots. Manny had a wild mane of ebony hair touched with bright silver to go with his grizzled beard.
“I hear you and Belle are going after Diana.” Manny spit tobacco to one side and wiped his mouth with a red bandanna.
“That's right.” Mercy stopped in the shade. “Did you find out anything helpful about Diana today?”
“No. And I'm plum worried sick.”
“Elmira and Lamira saw Diana carried out of the Lone Star Hotel last night and forced on the back of a horse.”
“Hornswoggle!” Manny drew his bushy eyebrows together in a frown. “I never thought to knock on their door and wake them.”
“Turns out they don't sleep much at night. Their window overlooks Main Street, and that provides a lot of entertainment.”
“Don't doubt it. Still, I let everybody down by not thinking of them.”
“You did fine.” He glanced across the street at the Red River Saloon, but Belle wasn't in sight yet. “The ladies said the man was riding a pacer.”
“You don't say.” Manny scratched his head, turning his hair wilder. “Belle can track an odd mount like that easy enough.”
“That's what she says.”
“Where is she?”
“She's changing clothes at the Red River.”
Manny snorted. “Let's see if she comes up with somethin' that won't draw every eye in Texas and Indian Territory.”
“I believe that's her point.”
“Good'un.” He cocked his head to one side. “You gonna stand here jawin' all day or are you gonna load up your horse and get gone?”
Mercy grinned. “I'm as ready as I'll ever be.”
“I saddled your horse.” Manny winked, looking mischievous.
“And I got a dark sorrel gelding with a plain saddle and bridle ready for Belle.”
“She has her own horse.”
Mercy spit and wiped his mouth. “Last thing she needs is to ride an outfit like that into Indian Territory when she needs to keep her head down.”
“Best if nobody knows who she is?”
“Hell, yes. She's got a reputation that won't quit. And you don't know what you're riding into.”
“Won't folks recognize her?”
“Not if you two play it smart.”
“How do you mean?”
“She's known as a lone wolf. The outlaws who've seen her face are mostly in jail. Concoct some story about the two of you being together. That'll throw folks off your scent.”
“Will she go for it?”
“Here she comes. Let's talk some sense into her.”
Mercy watched Belle lead her horse across the street with a swagger in her step and a six-gun on her hip. She'd toned down her clothes to a cobalt riding skirt and a matching cobalt-and-white-striped blouse. She'd completed her outfit with leather vest, gloves, and cowboy boots in a rich shade of burgundy. She'd changed her Stetson from white to beige. She was no longer all dolled up, but she was still more woman than most men could handle.
“Howdy.” She joined them in front of the stable.
“Belle, I saddled Juniper for you,” Manny said.
“Is that your sorrel with the good underline and the long stride?”
“Yep.”
“Fine horse, but I like my Addy just fine.”
“She's showy and you know it.”
Belle looked down at her clothes, then at her mount. “First Mercy and now you. I suppose Juniper would blend in better in Indian Territory.”
“I'm worried about Diana, but you, too,” Manny said. “You could be next on somebody's list after Tex and Hackett.”
Belle nodded in agreement. “I'm not anxious to be bushwhacked. Okay, I'll ride Juniper and leave Addy with you.”
“That'll make you right as rain, far as looks go.” Manny spit tobacco to the side and wiped his mouth. “But you better come up with a story that'll make you and Mercy appear to be something you're not.”
“What do you mean?” Belle untied her saddlebags and slipped them off her horse.
“You could be an artist model,” Mercy said.
“Maybe a schoolmarm,” Manny added.
Belle put one hand on her hip and glared at them. “How about gunslinger?”
Manny laughed, coughed, and spit tobacco to one side.
“I don't think you're getting our point,” Mercy said.
“Sure I am.”
Manny rubbed his beard and then scratched his hair into a chicken's nest. “You heard about Burnt Boggy Saloon and that wagonload of soiled doves, didn't you?”
“Everybody's heard about it. But what does that have to do with me?” Belle asked.
“Mercy was there.”
“Is any of that malarkey true?”
Mercy chuckled. “Now everybody wants to go to Burnt Boggy for excitement. First, Lady Gone Bad gets into it with outlaws and the place burns to the ground. Second, the Black Widow causes a riot and it burns again. I was there for the third fire. Red Dog and Slim had me working on their bar, but this time they'd only put up a tent, just in case.” He shook his head. “Temperance Tempest turned up followed by a wagonload of women.”
“You mean it's true?” Belle sounded shocked.
Manny laughed. “Partly. Those women weren't soiled doves. They were temperance ladies. And they burned down the saloon.”
“Are you sure?” Belle asked.
“I know it for a fact. Afterward, Mrs. Bartholomew and the Texas Society for the Promotion of Temperance came to the Bend with the Chancy Clancy Outlaw Gang in tow.”
Mercy laughed. “Turns out Mrs. Bartholomew and Chancy took a shine to each other.”
“They're engaged,” Manny explained.
“And they're going on tour,” Mercy added. “They plan to give lectures on how the TSPT convinced the bandits to mend their ways and become upright, sober citizens.”
“You're kidding me,” Belle said.
“Mrs. Bartholomew is a wealthy widow, so she can afford it,” Mercy said. “But they're also going to sell tickets.”
“You got to figure our local showbiz men, Burt and Bob Hayes, put that bee in their bonnet,” Manny said.
“But if they're outlaws—” Belle started.
“First they had to talk Judge Parker into letting them trade jail time for lecture time.”
“And he agreed?” Belle asked.
“Guess he figured that was a better recompense to society,” Manny said.
Belle shook her head. “I'm surprised. He's a tough judge.”
“If Clancy was a real bad hombre, Mrs. Bartholomew wouldn't have gotten her way,” Manny explained.
“I suppose they might do some good,” Belle agreed, “but I'll believe it when I see it.”
“Don't be hard-hearted,” Manny said. “Folks can change their ways.”
“Maybe the gang won't use lectures as a way to heist valuables.”
Manny shook his head. “You've been dealing with outlaws too long.”
“I'm a bounty hunter,” Belle said.
“So what do you think about our idea?” Mercy asked.
“What idea?”
Mercy smiled, trying to appear innocent. “Way I heard it, you're the little lady who led the soiled doves to ply their trade at Burnt Boggy Saloon.”
“She's back in Indian Territory looking for a likely place to set up shop,” Manny added.
“You want me to pose as a madam?” Belle asked.
“That's one way to put it.”
“Is there another way?”
“Purveyor of talent.”
“And why am I with you?”
“I'm the artist of the Red River Saloon's famous bar.” He grinned, enjoying toying with her. “And you're my inspiration.”
Manny spit tobacco to the side. “Could work.”
“You're throwing me to the wolves.”
“Do you want to catch those bushwhackers, or not?” Manny asked.
“Guess we could go as husband and wife.” Mercy smiled, not minding the idea one bit. “But if we did, you couldn't cozy up to men and question them.”
She sighed. “You've got a point. Every man in Indian Territory would be willing to spend time with me if they thought I was a madam.”
“Just not too much,” Mercy added.
“In that case,” Belle said, “I guess I'd better change clothes.”
“No need,” Mercy said. “A blonde wig ought to do the trick.”
“Yep,” Manny agreed. “Ludmila will have something.”
“Doesn't seem like much of a change,” Belle said. “But I might not run into anybody who knows me.”
“It'll do,” Manny teased. “Those outlaws won't be looking at your face anyway.”
Mercy laughed, shaking his head. “Miz Phoebe, I think you're gonna be real popular.”
Belle put her hands on her hips. “Go ahead and make fun. But I'm not answering to Phoebe.”
Mercy laughed harder. “We've got a long ride ahead of us. I'm sure we can come up with something that suits the new you.”
BOOK: Belle Gone Bad
10.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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