Deborah Camp (20 page)

“She’d better watch out or you’ll fire her,” he joked, not cracking a smile.

Adele appreciated his quip with a sour expression. “Stay in bed.” With that, she left him.

Reno dissected the conversation while he tucked away the food. What she hadn’t said exactly was that all she had was her work. Since the death of her mother, love had been absent from her life. That could certainly harden a heart and erect barriers. But a woman of her beauty didn’t have to be alone. She had chosen the path, spurning the advances of the men in Whistle Stop and wherever else she’d lived.

His mind circled a notion, and he examined it from every angle before deciding it was sound. Dellie wanted control. She didn’t like the surprises life had handed her, so she strove to be in charge of every aspect of it. That’s why she had advertised for a husband.

Oh, she’d fooled herself into thinking she was making a statement, teaching the men in town a lesson, but what she was really doing was finding herself a husband she could control. Someone she could handle.

What she needed, however, was an equal, someone she could not manage, but someone she could depend on. He could be that person. He wanted to be that person. Why, he didn’t know, other than that he’d had a lingering sense of destiny since the day he’d
met her. And of course she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever clapped eyes on. Her green eyes haunted him night and day, and he had never seen skin as creamy and as flawless as hers. Then there was her spirit. The woman was brimming with it. And her intellect, her quest for knowledge, her insistence on achievement.

She acted on him like a potion, running through him, changing him, binding him in the spell of her. Even when she was irritating him by bossing him or frustrating him with her damning assumptions, another part of him wanted to kiss her quiet and drive her wild with desire.

Damn if he wasn’t roped and tied. The woman should brand him and put him out of his misery.

Grinning crookedly at his musings, he set the tray aside and fought off dizziness to get to his feet. Locking his knees, he waited for the room to right itself, then he dressed with slow, deliberate movements. Navigating into the parlor, he strapped on his holster and he was ready to leave when he caught his reflection in the mirror.

Good God! He could scare Satan himself.

Unshaven and hollow-eyed, he was a walking specter of doom. His own mother would shriek in horror if she could see him. Yep, he’d never looked meaner or more disreputable. He felt almost as bad as he looked, which was dandy. He rocked a hat gingerly onto his tangled mop of hair, careful not to touch the knot of pain above his ear, and slipped out the side door. With what he had to do, looking scary and feeling as rotten as week-old meat would tip the odds in his favor.

*     *     *

In less than an hour he’d tracked down his quarry at the General Store.

Yancy Stummer sat in one of the ten rocking chairs fronting the building and concentrated on rolling himself a cigarette. A collection of other town wastrels sat with him and traded well-worn tall tales of bad tempers and bad women.

Reno approached them diagonally from across the street. On Sundays the store was closed, and most people were staying at home this afternoon. Yancy and his cohort were so involved in rolling their own and trading lies that they didn’t see Reno coming until he was only a few steps away. Willie Halderon nudged Yancy in the ribs with a sharp elbow and gave a quick, nervous nod in Reno’s direction. Yancy looked up, saw Reno, and gulped loud enough for Reno to hear. His eyes quivered in their sockets, and Reno wouldn’t have been surprised if Yancy had watered the seat of his pants.

“You left your calling card last night, Yancy, so I thought I’d pay you a visit of my own,” Reno said, keeping his voice low. He glanced left and right at the gawkers. “You men might want to make tracks. Me and Yancy have some private business to attend to, and I wouldn’t want anybody getting in our way.” He rested a hand on the butt of his gun. “So get.”

In a blink of an eye, Yancy was left sitting alone with only wildly rocking chairs on either side of him. He jumped up and patted his sides.

“I’m not armed,” he blurted out.

“That doesn’t seem to matter much in this town.
You were armed last night and you nearly killed me and Dellie.”

“I don’t know what you’re yammering about. I was home with my wife last night.”

“Maybe for part of the night, but I saw you and Terrapin’s hired coyote galloping by when you shot out the restaurant windows. I know you’re good at lying, Yancy, but I’m better at knowing a lie when I hear it.”

“Take your crazy notions some place else. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And you’d better watch your back, mister. If you try to gun me down, the sheriff will have you swinging from a rope before sunset.”

“I’m not going to gun you down, Stummer.”

“You ain’t?”

“No.” Reno shook his head slowly and released his most evil, blood-chilling grin. Yancy blanched. “I’m going to beat the livin’ hell out of you.”

Yancy’s pupils dilated. He lunged sideways, trying to escape, but Reno was a step ahead of him and grasped the back of his shirt, ripping it as he held Yancy in check while he introduced his fist to the man’s stomach. Yancy doubled over with a groan and a whine.

“Don’t hurt me,” he wailed. “I never done nothing.”

“Lying little bastard,” Reno shouted. “You’re going to confess if I have to smash every last one of your snaggled teeth out of your head.” He punched Yancy in the mouth to prove he was a man of his word.

“Owww! Help me! Help me!” Yancy wailed like a stepped-on cat.

Reno had no mercy, landing blows to Yancy’s jaw, his midsection, his ribs, until the man collapsed at Reno’s feet. Reno shook out his hands, his knuckles stinging, his fingers cramped, and stared down at Yancy Stummer. He rolled the man over onto his back with the toe of his boot. Yancy moaned, blood leaking from a cut and swelling lower lip. A piece of tooth dangled from his upper lip.

“Listen to me, Stummer,” Reno said, shoving Yancy’s shoulder with his boot. “Stay away from me, stay away from the restaurant, and—listen good now, Stummer.” He toed him in the ribs and Yancy howled. “Stay away from my wife, or I swear I’ll kick your sorry ass from here to Texas.”

Leaving him in the muddy street, Reno turned and saw a shadowy figure in the doorway of the saloon. Pausing, he waited for the man to step outside. Buck Wilhite.

“Hey there, Buck,” Reno called, keeping an eye on the man’s gun hand. “I’ve been having some fun here with your friend.”

“He isn’t my friend.”

“Oh? He rides with you when you’re out at night shooting at folks through windows.”

“I heard there was trouble at the restaurant,” Buck said. “Maybe you should be more careful in picking your friends and enemies.”

Reno walked slowly toward the man, smiling on the outside while his temper flared inside. “Let’s talk man to man.” He stopped a few feet from Buck. “I know you rode out last night and emptied your gun at the restaurant windows. I figure you were doing what you get paid to do. It’s a damned cowardly way
to make a living, but I reckon it’s all you have sense enough to do.”

The one eye visible to Reno narrowed. Buck flexed the fingers of his gun hand.

“I’ve got no use for cowards, Wilhite. Next time I see you making trouble for me or mine, I’ll let my gun do the talking.”

Buck’s mouth twitched in the semblance of a grin. “That right?”

“That’s right. So you’d best go hunt up something you can use for a backbone. You’ll be needing it.” Reno walked away, each step a testimony to his courage and his belief that Wilhite wouldn’t shoot him in the back. Not today, anyway.

“Shoot him!” Yancy Stummer propped himself up on one elbow and motioned for Buck to obey. “Kill him, Buck!”

“Shut your trap, Stummer,” Buck drawled, “before I shoot you quiet.”

Reno stifled a laugh when Yancy whimpered, scrambled to his feet, and limped away, trying to outpace Reno.

“Gold!”

Reno didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to face Wilhite again, but he did.

“How come you didn’t try to jump me or draw on me?” Wilhite called.

Reno considered his answer a moment before he spoke. “You’re not the man I’ve got a grievance with. It’s your boss I’ll call out if this trouble isn’t put to rest.”

“What about Stummer? You jumped him.”

Reno cocked a brow and gave a shrug. “Hell, I just did that for the pure pleasure of it.”

Buck dipped his head, then angled a glance toward the gaming hall as if he were scouting for his boss. Reno thought he might be laughing, but he was too far away to be sure. Issuing a short wave, Buck spun around and went back into the saloon.

Reno adjusted his gun in its holster, relieved that he didn’t have to use it, but knowing he would soon. Too damn soon.

T
he last of the glass had been swept away. The broken windows were boarded up against the dirt and debris carried by the wind. Adele sat alone in the restaurant and looked out one of the two windows that hadn’t been demolished by bullets. She thought to check on Reno. He had seemed weary when she’d taken a supper tray to him, but that was to be expected, since he’d disobeyed her by getting dressed. Just dressing had obviously sapped his strength. He hadn’t argued when she’d insisted that he undress and get back into bed.

She would look in on him in a few minutes, she thought, but right at that moment it felt too good to be off her feet. She wanted to sit and rest and not think about the restaurant or last night’s riders or how close she had come to losing Reno.

Hearing the tap of heels on the depot platform, Adele jerked to attention, her nerves jangling and the hairs on the back of her neck lifting. She was relieved to see Doris McDonald approaching the door.

The cook let herself in with her own key and
seemed surprised to find Adele still in the restaurant.

“Everything peaceful here?” she asked.

“Why, yes, Mrs. McDonald. Did you have a nice stroll?”

Mrs. McDonald nodded. “I stopped at the boardinghouse to have a cup of tea and talked with a woman I know there. She told me about what happened earlier. I sure hope Mr. Reno knows what he’s doing, yanking the Devil’s tail like that.”

Adele frowned and shook her head. “I don’t follow you.”

“Nobody’s said anything to you? I thought some of the town folks would have stopped by to spread the news.”

“Once the workmen were finished, I locked the restaurant. I’ve been taking inventory in the kitchen.”

“Oh.” Mrs. McDonald sighed. “I should have kept my mouth shut, I reckon.”

“If this concerns me, I should know about it. You mentioned Reno?”

“Yes, ma’am. He … Well, he tracked down Yancy Stummer and bloodied him good. He threatened to kill Buck Wilhite if he ever came around this place or you again.”

Adele fell back in the chair, her breath stuck in her throat. “When? When did he do this? He’s been here—” She chopped off the rest.

Mrs. McDonald shook her head and smiled grimly. “No, ma’am, he hasn’t been here all day. He snuck out while we were busy cleaning up the place.”

“That rascal.” Adele looked toward the door leading to her quarters. “I thought he was weak because
it had taken such an effort for him to get out of bed and dress.”

“He had himself a big day, Mrs. Adele. A mighty big day.”

Adele knew she should be livid, but her reaction was just the opposite. She was glad, glad that Reno had given Yancy Stummer his due and had warned Buck to keep his distance. Naturally she wished he had waited until he was fully recovered from his injury, but she couldn’t deny the intense pride she felt for him. His actions showed gumption, spirit, and self-confidence, all things she liked in a man.

“He didn’t say a word to me,” Adele said. “I suppose he knew I’d burst the ties in my corset.”

“Men have trouble turning the other cheek. It ain’t natural for them to let something like this”—she gestured at the boarded windows—“go without making somebody pay. He was only doing what comes natural, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. McDonald, I’m not as naive as you think when it comes to men. Granted, I never knew my father and I didn’t have brothers, but I have been making my way in this man’s world for a number of years and I know they are a law unto themselves.”

Mrs. McDonald laughed. “Truer words were never spoken. God bless ’em. Guess I’ll be turning in, ma’am. Good night.”

“Good night, Mrs. McDonald.”

The cook paused and seemed to struggle with something she wanted to say. Finally she sighed and met Adele’s gaze. “I’ll always have a soft spot for your mister. He made me respect myself again. Every
time somebody calls me ‘Mrs. McDonald’ I hold my head up higher. Mr. Reno made me believe that I could walk away from the saloon life and he helped me. I’ll be forever in his debt.” She gave a short laugh. “ ’Course, I never told him this, because I know it would embarrass him. But I wanted to tell you, ’cause you have a lot to be proud of in him. You just got to look real close to see it sometimes.”

Adele wanted to hug the woman. “Thank you, Mrs. McDonald. I’m glad you told me.” She exchanged a smile with her before Mrs. McDonald climbed the stairs to her room.

Her thoughts scurried back to the day Reno had hired the cook, and she felt ashamed of herself. She hadn’t been charitable. She’d wanted Reno to take Mrs. McDonald back to the saloon. That wasn’t like her, being so narrow-minded and not seizing an opportunity to help someone embark on a better life. Had her struggles in the past few years hardened her, made her think only of herself?

She pushed aside the troubling thought, confident she had a gentle heart, too gentle at times. But to be honest she also knew she had formed a bad opinion of anyone who worked in saloons and gaming halls. Too many lives were ruined in those places. However, she’d lost sight of the fact that not everyone who worked in those devil dens was there entirely by choice, but often by coercion. Adele knew from experience that a woman alone in the world was vulnerable and that her choices were few.