Reese (18 page)

"The sun's going down," she observed. "Is it safe to stay and watch a while?"

"Hmm?" Reese still stared at town. She squeezed his hand and he returned his gaze to her. "Sure. If you like, I'll stay with you."

She smiled. "I like."

He stared at her as if she was a bit touched, and she smiled wider. He was very sweet once you got past the guns and the swearing and the growling. She had a feeling few people took the time or braved the trouble—even the men who rode at his side.

"Your friends don't seem to know much about you." She leaned against his shoulder.

He stiffened, though he continued to hold her hand, probably because she wouldn't let his go. "You've been asking questions about me?"

"Do you have something to hide?"

"Of course."

"A wife?"

He appeared horrified. "Hell, no!"

Relief washed through her. She cast him a quick sideways glance, but he watched the western horizon and not her, his face resembled stone, no expression there at all. "You needn't worry; they didn't tell me anything."

"They don't know anything."

"Not even your real name?"

"Especially that."

"Are you on the run? Are you wanted?"

"Maybe."

"Do you know as little about your friends as they know about you?"

"They aren't my friends. They're good men who ride with me."

"Sounds suspiciously like a friend."

"We aren't friends. We work together. I don't know about their families, their dreams, their past or their nightmares, and I don't want to."

"How can you go through life without friends?"

"I've had friends. And when they die in front of you, or in your arms sometimes, the more you know about them, the more it hurts."

"So you know nothing? You have no friends at all?"

"That's right."

The finality in his voice and the set of his mouth made Mary swallow the rest of her arguments. Who was she to judge or preach? She had not seen what he had seen or lost what he had lost.

She wanted to keep questioning him and discover why he was so bitter, but she couldn't. She wanted to heal him, and she didn't know how. Instead she let the subject drop and continued to hold his hand—because he continued to let her.

After a few moments, the silence became too loud. Mary had to fill it. "The sunsets here are like none I've ever seen, even in Virginia."

At her neutral change of subject, the tension flowed from his body in a nearly audible rush. "I don't get to watch many sunsets."

"They're like a gift from God. Bit by bit the sun slips down, and the colors change even as you're watching. One minute there's light and heat. You can feel it on your face, smell it in the air. Then, the next the sun is gone, and shadows spread over the land; everything goes cool and dark."

She glanced at him. He was staring at her instead of the sun. "Watch." She pointed at the bright red ball perched upon the cusp of night. "It's magic."

"Magic," he murmured. "I think you're right."

They stared at each other as the sun died, and the shadows eclipsed them both. Something was happening here that went beyond anything Mary had ever experienced, and it
was
magic.

As the day slipped away completely, a cool breeze drifted over the water, washing them in the scent of river and darkness.

"Miss McKendrick," Reese said, his voice as soft as the wind, "you're trying to seduce me."

"But, Reese, I wouldn't know how."

Chapter 11

Reese's body was on fire, his mind a bewildered haze. Mary's innocence was seduction itself and lured the wickedness roiling in his heart. She had no idea how she made him ache for the man he had once been—a man who was gone and never coming back. If he told her his secrets, would she still offer her untainted mouth to his?

He wasn't going to find out. He was going to kiss her while he had the chance. Just one more time.

Only one last time.

When his mouth touched hers, Mary still smiled at what she thought had been a joke. Little did she know, Reese hadn't made a joke since Stonewall Jackson died.

Her lips, curved from laughter, were as cool as midnight. She tasted like rain after a desert summer day, night fallen, dreams awakened. Her touch soothed his parched soul; her sigh of surrender filled him again with desire.

How many times had they kissed? He could not recall. Enough that they already knew the rhythm and the music. He kissed her gently at first, as light as her smile, as sweet as her eyes.

"Reese," she whispered.

For a moment, he hesitated, the need to hear his real name from her lips nearly overwhelming. But to share that forgotten part of himself would be a mistake. Instead, he kissed her less gently, more deeply, and they both forgot everything but this moment.

For a woman who had never been kissed before he came to town, she caught on right quick. The thought of anyone else enjoying Mary's eager mouth made Reese see red. He couldn't believe he hadn't beaten the crap out of Rico for daring. But Reese knew the Kid. Kissing Mary hadn't meant a thing to him. Nothing like what it meant to Reese.

Everything.

Tongues mating, teeth scraping, lips caressing. Shared breath, shared sunset, shared dreams. What was he thinking? This was lust, nothing more. Even though Mary was a woman reminiscent of the man he had once been, she was not a woman he could call his own. Not now or ever again.

The shots, when they came, did not at first penetrate Reese's jumbled mind. His senses were filled with Mary—the scent of soap, the taste of rain, the softness of a woman beneath his hard, rough hands. Then she tore her mouth from his, blinking at him owlishly beneath the painted sky.

They both looked toward town, then they ran—together, holding hands. Later, Reese would wonder if he'd grabbed her or if she'd grabbed him. But the answer to that question wasn't half as disturbing as the fact that holding Mary's hand felt like something he'd been missing all his life.

Expecting to see El Diablo and crew blasting holes in Rock Creek, Reese was surprised to find the street deserted.

Slowly, the two of them walked down the boardwalk. Reese held tightly to Mary's hand. He wouldn't put it past the woman to charge into any fray that occurred, whether between El Diablo and his men or his men alone.

That was the problem when you brought six rough men to a little town in Texas. Trouble kept them in business. It made them what they were. And if there wasn't enough of it with others, they'd make trouble among themselves. Cash
had
warned him.

As Reese and Mary neared the saloon, they heard raised voices inside. Then Rico came flying through the doors and landed on his back in the middle of the street.

Reese sighed. "They're fighting again."

"Your men?"

"They do that sometimes."

"How... childish."

"You have no idea," he muttered.

"Can't you make them stop?"

"I plan to."

"I mean completely. Forever."

"People hire us to fight. If I make them behave like humans, they won't be any good to me at all."

"Therefore you let them behave like animals?"

"To a point. They aren't allowed to kill one another."

"Excellent rule." Mary's voice was dry.

A figure emerged from the saloon. Reese couldn't see his face, but he knew his men, and this wasn't one of them. The guy pulled Rico up and started shaking him.

"Ah, hell, what did he do now?" Reese let Mary go and stalked into the street. Just as the fellow drew his fist back to punch the Kid in the face, Reese grabbed hold of his arm.

Rico fell back to the dirt as the guy swung around. Reese ducked, and the punch whistled over his head. He would have laid the man flat, but a quick glance at the guy's face revealed that Rico's attacker was at least sixty.

Instead, Reese pulled the man's arm behind his back so he wouldn't try to strike out again. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The stranger let loose a stream of profanity, none of which sounded like his name. Somehow Reese doubted he held Jesus Christ in his hands.

"William Brown!" Mary's voice came from directly behind him, and when Reese glanced over his shoulder, he found her scowling. "Your mouth should be washed with soap!"

Brown continued to curse and struggle, trying to get at Rico. A movement behind Mary revealed Jed, Cash, and Sullivan lounging against the bullet-riddled entrance to the saloon. All watched the exchange with varying degrees of amusement.

"What's going on here?" Reese demanded.

"This guy came in firin' at Rico. Firin' wide." Jed snorted. "It's no wonder they hired us if that's how they shoot in this town."

"My question was more to the why than the what."

All four shrugged. Rico managed to get up, and Reese saw that Brown had scored at least one hit. The Kid's pretty brown eye was swelling shut.

"Was it his wife? His sister? His daughter? Which one this time, Salvatore?"

Rico peered at him with his remaining good eye.
"No comprendo."

"Let me help you to understand. Which one of this man's women have you been playing with all week?"

"No women. I swear."

Reese glanced at the other man. "You want to tell me why you're trying to kill him, Brown?"

"Carrie," he spat.

Rico paled, a show of guilt if ever there was one.

"Dammit, Rico, I told you to keep it in your pants. I'm sick and tired of irate fathers, husbands, and brothers turning up on every job. Why can't you be like Cash?"

"Why can't everyone?" Cash drawled.

Reese ignored the gambler; sometimes that helped. Rico looked as if he'd just lost his best friend. Pale, bruised, shoulders hanging, hair in his face. When he raised his one good eye, the anguish in it made Reese shiver.

"Carrie is six years old,
mi capitan.
I am not a monster. I have been playing with her, yes. She reminds me of my little sister whom I lost long ago."

"Bullshit!" Brown exploded. "You've been teaching her to sneak up on people and scare them half to death. The little brat prowls around like a coyote. She's driving me crazy. And she talks about
him
like he's the king of Spain. She swears a blue streak too. I don't want that Mex bastard anywhere near her."

"Perhaps, Mr. Brown, Carrie has learned some of her curse words at home," Mary pointed out. "We've discussed this before."

"She was never this bad until he showed up. She says she loves him."

"She's six. He's handsome and young, and he pays attention to her. It's a crush, and kind of sweet, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you. You're the one who brought them here, and I'm telling you people are talking. About you and him." He yanked away from Reese, and Reese let him go. "Don't you wonder why no one comes to the morning lessons?"

Reese remained poised on the balls of his feet, ready to grab the fellow if he swung at Rico again, or punch him in the mouth, old fool or not, if he spoke badly about Mary.

"Why would that be, Mr. Brown?"

Mary had the "watch your mouth" tone down as well as anyone Reese had ever heard.

"No one trusts them. It's not just me that doesn't want any of them near my family."

"I've been learning from Reese for a week now, and nothing untoward has happened."

"Is that so? Then where were you coming from just now?"

Even in the semidarkness, everyone saw her blush. Although they had done nothing wrong, she would be blamed, and Reese wasn't going to allow that.

He stepped in close to Brown. "I accompanied Miss McKendrick to the river so she could wash clothes. No woman should wander out of town without an escort."

"Escort? Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Reese's fists clenched. Mary's fingers slipped around his—soft over hard, peace over anger. "Never mind," she said. "He'll believe what he wants to, anyway."

"Damn right. Why don't you just kill El Diablo and get out of town." Brown glanced at the saloon. "All of you." He turned to Rico. "Especially you. Stay away from Carrie."

Rico didn't answer; he just kept staring at the ground, which made Reese nervous. Rico had an answer to everything, and he never let anyone get the jump on him. So how had Brown managed to give the Kid a black eye?

The old man stalked away, and Rico went into the saloon with the others. No one spoke, though Sullivan hung back and stared at Reese for a moment before following.

Reese let his fingers relax, and Mary slipped hers between them. "Mr. Brown has been angry at the world since he lost his son in the war and he got stuck raising Carrie. Though stuck isn't a word I'd use for the gift of that child."

"He's right. You hired us to kill El Diablo."

"I did not!"

"Mary, that's what we do. Just because you're too good-hearted to believe that doesn't make it any less true. We need to kill him and get out of here before something bad happens."

"Like what?"

He pulled his hand from hers. "You know what."

"I don't think that I do."

Reese stared into her innocent face, and something shifted deep inside him. "I want to do a lot more than kiss you."