Dorothy Garlock (26 page)

Mary followed the girls out of the kitchen and closed the door. On her face was the pained look of a mother faced with irrefutable proof of her daughter’s waywardness.

“Hannah, I will not have you soliciting business in my part of the house. You know the rules. You can abide by them or leave. Cooper is here as
my
guest. Until he goes out that back door and comes in the front, keep your hands off him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hannah lowered her eyes, but not before Mary saw resentment in them. “There ain’t been hardly nobody here fer a week,” she complained.

“That’s the way it is in any business. You can’t expect the place to be crowded every night. You came here with the only dress you owned on your back, riding behind a cowhand who gave you a ride from town. If you want to leave you can take all your clothes and I’ll give you a hundred dollars extra besides the money I’m holding for you. Josh will take you to the stage in the buggy. Make up your mind what you want to do.”

Hannah looked down at the toe of her shoe peeking from beneath her floor-length skirt. “I’ll stay.”

“All right. There’s something else I want to make clear. Ben Spurlock looks older than fourteen, but that’s how old he is. At that age he’s naturally curious about you girls. Stay away from him.”

“How about Frank?” Clara asked, and Mary was surprised to see her blushing.

“Frank can do as he pleases on his own time. Right now he’s broke, dead broke. That’s why I gave him a job. That, and the fact that he helped Case. If one of you wants to take him upstairs without pay, that’s your business; but don’t serve him drinks unless he pays. That’s my business.”

After a chorus of “yes ma’ams,” Mary went back to the kitchen and fixed a tray to take to Case.

*  *  *

Cooper sat in a chair beside Case’s bed and Mary sat on the edge.

“That’s it in a nutshell, Cooper,” Mary said. “I’ve got the papers, but if Adam Clayhill gets his hands on them before they’re recorded, there’s no proof Logan paid for that land.”

“I was going to Denver in a week or two; I’ll make it sooner.” He grinned, his teeth showing white against his tanned face. “It’ll be my pleasure to put one over on Clayhill.”

“Thank you, Cooper. I knew you’d help.” Mary adjusted a pillow behind Case’s back. “Adam has grown overconfident. He’s not run into men the caliber of you, Case, and Logan,” she said proudly.

Cooper was a peace loving man, yet there was something in him that gloried in a good battle. There was also in him a fierce resentment against those who abused their power and a strong streak of rebellion ever ready to well up and defend the under-dog.

“I’ve got a letter here for Horn. McCloud gave it to me when I came through town. I’ll leave it with you. It’s from a James Randolph of Denver.”

“I’ll see that he gets it. I’ve a feeling he’ll bring Rosalee in as soon as he can.”

There was an insistent rap on the door. Slightly irritated by the interruption, Mary got up to open it. Josh beckoned her out into the hallway.

“Adam Clayhill and four of his men rode in. They’re tying up out front,” he said in an urgent whisper.

“Out
front
? He knows my quarters are at the back of the house. He’d go there if it was me he wanted to see. Who’s with him?”

“Dud Simms, Billy Hopper, ’n two I ain’t never set eyes on afore.”

“If there’s trouble, Josh, I don’t want Case to be in on it. He’s so weak he can hardly stand.”

Mary went quickly down the hall and opened the door leading to the wide foyer. Minnie and Hannah came out of the parlor just as the outside door was flung open so hard it struck the wall, bounced, and hung open. Adam and his men crowded into the hall, hats pushed back on their heads, spurs jingling as they raked against the table legs and carefully polished woodwork.

“Take your pick of the girls, boys. I’m payin’!” Adam bellowed, and slammed down a fistful of coins on the table, his eyes on Mary, examining her from head to toe.

“Yeeewhooo!” One of the strangers shouted and threw his hat at the ceiling. “I’m atakin’ this’n.” He grabbed Minnie around the waist and flung her around. Her feet hit the door and it crashed against the wall again.

“You’re not welcome here.” Mary spoke calmly, but firmly. “Take your men and leave.”

“Leave? This here’s a whorehouse, isn’t it? Me and the boys came to get our ashes hauled.” He took off his hat and sailed it across the room. “Bring out the whiskey,
madam,
” he commanded. His cold blue eyes pinned hers.

The instant the cowboy set Minnie on her feet her hand flashed out and slapped him across the face. “Get yore hands off me, damn you!”

The cowboy hooted with laughter. “Eeeewhooo! I like ’em fightin’, bitin’, ’n scratchin’! I’ll take this’n, boss. Where’s yore room, honey?” He grabbed her arm in a hamlike fist.

“It’s up to you, Minnie,” Mary said. “You don’t have to take him to your room if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to! He’s dirty as a hog. If I take one, it’ll be Dud.” She shook his hand from her arm and stood away from him.

Stung to anger by her blunt refusal, the cowboy threw back his head and spat out, “Yo’re shore uppity for a whore. Ya think I ain’t good enuff?”

“Yore not
clean
enough,” Minnie said angrily.

“I told you to haul out the whiskey,” Adam demanded. “We’ve come to have a party, didn’t we, boys?”

Mary lifted her chin and a fierce defiance glittered in her eyes. “I said for you to leave. My girls don’t entertain marauders, backshooters, and trash!”

“Speaking of trash,
madam,
” Adam sneered. “I’m taking you. I’m goin’ to find out if what’s between your legs is as pretty as what’s on your shoulders.”

The insult brought a flush to Mary’s cheeks, but she lifted her brows and looked at him coolly. “
Mister
Clayhill, what I told you a long time ago when I rejected your offer to set me up for your personal . . . pleasure, still holds. I can’t see you for dirt! You’re an insult to the human race.”

Her scorn cracked like a whip across his pride. His shaggy gray head jutted forward and he gritted out viciously, “You gawddamn bitch! Who are you callin’ trash? You, runnin’ a whorehouse; you, openin’ your legs for every drifter who comes by; you, takin’ up with a red ass! That’s trash!” He pointed his finger in her face. “You’ve got Malone here, haven’t you? He killed one of my men and crippled three more. I’m not sittin’ still for it. You tell him he isn’t in Texas, he’s in
my
territory and I’ll see him hung!” He reached out and grabbed her by the arm.

“Get your hands off Mrs. Gregg.” Cooper Parnell’s voice came from behind Mary.

“Are you dealin’ yourself in?” Adam snapped.

“What do you think?” Cooper asked softly.

“I’m thinking you’re makin’ a mistake.” Blue eyes blazed into blue eyes. The men were of equal height; both towered over Mary. Adam’s face was an angry red beneath the shock of gray hair. Cooper’s stare at the older man was a deliberate, studied insult. Adam’s hand tightened on Mary’s arm.

“Maybe, but it’ll be your last if you don’t get your hand off the lady.”

“You plannin’ to take us all on?”

“It won’t matter to you what happens after the first shot, you’ll be dead before you hit the floor.”

“That good, huh?” Adam studied him for a minute, then laughed and dropped his hand from Mary’s arm. “I’ve lived too long to get killed over a whore. Who are you?”

“Cooper Parnell.”

“I’ve heard of you. Good with a gun, good with a knife. It’s said you can ride anything on four legs. I’ll pay you more in a month than you’d make on that rag-tail horse ranch of yours in a year.”

“Doing what? Burning out women and kids, backshooting, chasing legal landowners off their land? I’ve not sunk that low.” Cooper’s eyes had narrowed and his nostrils flared whitely against his sun-browned skin.

“Another sanctimonious bastard! That’s why you have a rag-tail horse ranch, boy, and I’ve got the biggest spread in the territory.” Adam sneered.

“Mrs. Gregg told you to leave and take that scum with you.”

“Watch yore mouth!” The cowhand who had grabbed Minnie stepped up beside Adam.

Cooper’s gun leaped in his hand. It happened so fast the last word was still on the cowboy’s lips. His eyes widened and color drained from his face.

“You’re a second from being dead,” Cooper spoke quietly.

Josh, with a shotgun in his hand, elbowed aside the two at the front door. There was a waiting silence. The grubby cowhand glanced at Adam, then backed away.

“So you’re throwing in with the red ass and the whore,” Adam snarled.

“I’ll not kill you for that, I’ll let Malone do it. It’ll be just one more good reason.”

Adam hesitated. Something about the man bothered him. He’d known when Cooper and his mother had bought the spread on the other side of the North Platte from a widow whose husband was killed by the Sioux. The place was a long way from his land and he’d not given it much thought. This was the first time he’d come face to face with Parnell and he had the feeling that he’d seen him someplace before. He stirred uneasily and beetled his brows while he concentrated. Then he shrugged. What the hell! It was probably in the saloon in town.

Adam walked over to the corner and picked up his hat. Then he went to the table and pocketed the coins he’d tossed there.

“Come on, boys. I know of a good little piece of ass in town you can have for two bits.”

“Ya get what ya pay for!” Minnie couldn’t resist throwing at them when they went out the door.

Dud Simms and Billy Hopper were the last to leave and they had apologetic looks on their faces as Josh followed them out.

*  *  *

Cooper sat at the table and his mother placed a plate of ham and eggs in front of him. She filled her cup from the big, blue speckled coffeepot on the cookstove and sat down opposite him. Sylvia Parnell was a slim, pretty woman with light hair streaked with gray. She had given her son her even features and full-lipped mouth, a deep sense of responsibility, and all the love and devotion a mother could give an only son.

“I had a run-in with Clayhill at Mrs. Gregg’s.”

“You met him?” Sylvia’s face drained of color.

“Yeah. He’s what I thought he was, only worse—big, dirty talking, a bully and a blowhard. I’m taking the Indian’s papers to Denver to have them recorded. Want to come with me? We can take the stage.”

“No. My beans are ready to shell and I want to set out some berries. You’ll make faster time by yourself.”

Cooper took in the worried look on his mother’s face. “You’ve nothing to worry about, Ma. I’ll not get involved except to take the papers. Somebody ought to help the poor bastard. He bit off a hunk to chew. Being a breed would be enough, but being a breed and going against Clayhill is about as bad a deal as a man can get. I’m not only doing it to help Horn, I’m doing it ’cause Mary Gregg asked me to, and because it’s time for the Clayhill rule to end in this territory if it’s ever going to be settled by decent people.”

“It’s right that you help Mr. Horn, Cooper,” Sylvia said, and looked out the window toward the mountains beyond. “Just watch yourself. Adam Clayhill is ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants.”

Cooper glanced at his mother and then down at his plate. He wouldn’t tell her about the Spurlocks being burned out or about the backshooter Clayhill sent out to get Case Malone. He’d tell her after he came back from Denver.

“Logan, it doesn’t seem possible that we’ve been here for more than a week.” Rosalee stood on the narrow ledge in front of the cliff dwellings, the ever-present breeze that swept the valley sending her skirts billowing. “Why do you suppose Case Malone hasn’t come back? Do you think the Clayhill men caught him and Ben at the ranch?”

“Malone’s too smart for that,” he reassured her.

“I’m worried about Ben . . . and Mr. Malone.”

“Malone may be afraid he’ll lead them here to us,” he told her, not believing what he said, but wanting to comfort her.

“When we leave here, where will we go?” She spoke without looking around to where Logan stood behind her.

“I’d take you to Mrs. Gregg. After that I’ll just have to take things as they come. I can’t stay holed up forever. I’ve got to get this thing settled so I can start building my ranch.” She glanced at him over her shoulder and he moved up to her and pulled her back against him. “There must be twenty men out there looking for us. I could have picked off a dozen if I were a backshooter.”

She crossed her arms and her hands gripped the arms that were wrapped around her. She leaned against his strength and turned her face so his lips could nuzzle her cheek.

“I worried each time you went out,” she whispered.

“I know you did.” Her hair was fragrant and warm from the sun. He kissed the strands the wind blew against his lips.

“When will we leave?”

“Tonight. I’ve waited, thinking Malone would come back.” His lips found the corner of her mouth. “That’s not exactly true. I’ve been selfish, I didn’t want our time together to come to an end.”

She turned in his arms and her hands climbed his chest and beyond to clasp behind his neck. “It isn’t the end, my love. It’s the beginning. We’ll be together for the rest of our lives. I’m happier right now than I’ve ever been in my life. The only thing that would make me happier is to know I can live with you peacefully and have Ben and Odell with us until they can strike out on their own.”

Logan looked down into her face, calmly studying her. He shook his head. “Rosalee, Rosalee . . . It won’t be easy. You’re living in a dream world if you think we’ll live peacefully. Face the reality that you’ll be the wife of a breed. You’ll have very few friends; you’ll be snubbed and talked about worse than a whore—”

“I’ve lived with reality all my life, my love. The good things in life are never easy at first. We have to earn them.”

“We may not find a preacher who will marry us,” he said in a burst of anguish. He gazed down at her and saw the love in her eyes. The fear of losing her was more frightening than facing a hundred Clayhill men who wanted to kill him. The thought of not having her with him, never holding her again, was too painful to tolerate. He tightened his hold on her protectively.