The Trailrider's Fortune (8 page)

"You three are
about the dumbest pukes I ever did meet," Rafe announced, peacemaker aimed
at Barker's head. "Not only stealin' horseflesh in broad daylight, but
that sorrel's
my
horse."

"Do
tell," the Poe with the reins chuckled. "Ain't we got taste?"

"Nope. What
you got's a fondness for rustlin' stock," Rafe contradicted. "Along
with about two seconds to ease your guns into the dirt. Try to be some pumpkins,
Barker'll be nothin' but a pair of bowed legs without a place to hang his
hat."

"Good seein'
you again, too," Barker sneered as he gingerly set his pistol down.
"You're makin' a mistake now, Conley. This sorrel's mine. Bought him
yesterday from a rancher."

"What's his
name?"

Barker shrugged.
"Hell if I know. Didn't give a crap. Fella just sold me the horse."
The Poe twin leading Snatch was unarmed. His brother made no move to put down
his pistol.

"Not the
rancher," Rafe drawled. "The
horse
. If he's yours, you must
call him somethin'."

"What's it to
you, what I call my horse?"

"Nothin'. But
that sorrel ain't yours, he's
mine
. I can prove it." Without
shifting his gaze, Rafe spoke to the animal. "Snatch,
johnnycakes
."

The horse reared
and kicked viciously at the man holding his reins. Pandemonium broke out. By
the time Art Thompson and the marshal arrived, a group of local vigilantes were
gathered at the livery, threatening to string up the horse thieves. The young stable
hand who'd been on duty had been knocked unconscious by the twins, and finally
came back to his senses. Barker sat bleeding from the bullet Rafe sent through
his shoulder. After giving his statement to the two lawmen and making certain
Snatch was safely back in a stall, Rafe reluctantly agreed to visit the
doctor's surgery.

The town was abuzz
with the news of a shoot-out and the valiant gunman who'd been taken with the stable
boy to Dr. Stone's surgery. Swanie Johnson swore he'd been at Doc Stone's and
witnessed the gunslinger's refusal to be treated until after the doctor saw to
the youth. Then the stalwart fellow had given the stable boy a gold eagle and
sent him to find some johnnycakes, instructing him to feed them to the star
sorrel. He politely tipped his hat to the lad and ordered him to keep two cakes
and any money left for himself.

Sparkle heard the
gossip at the depot as she disembarked. The train butch and baggage handlers
were talking to some men about the ruckus at the livery. Apparently, the
episode had occurred less than an hour before. She found her bag and began
walking briskly toward the saloon, grimacing at the thought that Benton Frazer
would be agog like the rest of the men in town. As if trailheads weren't the
rowdiest places on the prairie.

Frazer barked at
her as soon as she stepped through the swinging doors. "Your husband's
been shot in some hubbub. He's over at Doc Stone's surgery."

She dropped her
satchel, numbly realizing the man everyone had been talking about was Rafe
Conley. "How bad is he?"

"Hell, I don't
know. But I'm telling you right now, LaFleur—excuse me,
Conley
—you can't
have another night off. I don't care if he's dyin'. You been out a week. Go see
what's up, then get your behind back here right quick."

Sparkle dashed the
few blocks to Dr. Stone's, fighting a stitch in her side by the time she
stumbled through the door. "Doctor? It's…Mrs. Conley."

"Back
here."

She followed the
voice to a small room, where Rafe sat calmly on a table watching the doctor
suture his upper arm. "He's lost some blood and a small section of
muscle." The doctor never looked up from his task. "Bullet missed the
bone, thankfully. If you can keep it from suppurating, he should be fine.
Provided no one else tries to steal his horse." Dr. Stone gave Sparkle a
look of wry amusement.

She moved closer to
the table, and felt her throat go dry.

"Hey,
darlin'," Rafe smiled in greeting, reaching for her just in time. Her
knees started to buckle. "Whoa! Got some smellin' salts handy, Doc? She's
lookin' kind of pale. Probably the sight of blood."

Sparkle steadied
herself, gripping Rafe' s good forearm. Some dim part of her mind wondered why
he'd bothered to put his hat back on. He was sitting there naked from the waist
up, and his denims were stained deep crimson in several places. He did indeed look
like a man who'd just been in a gun battle.

"I'm all
right," she mumbled. "It just came as a shock, learning you're the
hero everyone's talking about.
Three
outlaws at once?"

He chuckled and
shook his head. "Three turkeys. Good thing I taught Snatch to work with
me. Them three pukes—er, sorry, Doc. No offense meant, case you're from
Missouri." When the doctor only released a soft laugh, Rafe drawled.
"They didn't stand a chance."

Sparkle followed
the doctor to his front reception room while Rafe collected his gunbelt and
coat. There wasn't anything left of his shirt. Her voice was a hushed whisper.
"Is there anything you can do about his big scar? He's very sensitive
about it, though I've tried to tell him it's not significant."

Dr. Stone shook his
head. "I'd advise to let it be. He's a strong fellow, with excellent
recuperative powers. Here's some laudanum. There'll be pain in that arm. Give
him a spoonful or two every few hours in a glass of water if it gets bad. Watch
for signs of fever, redness or puffiness around the sutures. Any problems, get
him back here or send for me."

Rafe joined them by
the front door. "Won't be no problems, Doc. There's twenty dollars and
thanks again." Rafe wrapped his good arm around Sparkle's shoulders and
led her outside. They hadn't gone ten feet from the doorway before he pulled
her against his chest and kissed her soundly.

"Tarnation,
it's good to see you. Came into town a couple of days ago and went by the
saloon. Gal there said you'd be comin' back in a few days."

"So you
decided to keep busy killing people until I got here?" Sparkle snapped,
jerking away from him.

Rafe saw the fire
in her eyes and couldn't help laughing. "I didn't kill anybody. I caught a
known rustler and two of his pals stealing horses from the livery. Turned 'em
over to the law, very much alive. Made four hundred dollars while I was at
it."

"Terrific. Do
you have even the slightest notion what I thought when Frazer told me you'd
been shot? I was afraid you were dying."

"Disappointed
then, huh?" He couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

"You're…Oh, 
have absolutely nothing to say to you," she announced, striding off toward
the Scarlet Lady, bustle twitching.

Rafe stared after
her for a few seconds, thoroughly confused. When she'd walked into the doctor's
office, he'd seen concern etching her face. The second their eyes met, Rafe had
experienced that same amazement again—that her eyes were so alive and
penetrating. That a pretty woman could possibly be gazing into his twin mud
holes with something akin to genuine caring. His heart soared for an instant.
Before she went weak in the knees, she'd looked about to cry. Perhaps she'd
missed him, same as he'd missed her.

But now she was
storming off, acting like she barely knew him. A horrible thought struck. Maybe
he'd misunderstood. Maybe she
was
disappointed. She might have been
hoping he'd solved her dilemma of how to get out of their "marriage."
Maybe she'd prayed never to set eyes on him again. What seemed like wrath could
be chagrin. Could be she wasn't at all glad to have her wayward
"husband" back in town, looking to share her bed. Someone else could
be sleeping in it these nights.

He caught up and
stepped in front of her to block her path. "You sorry to see me again?
Somethin's got your bustle bent. If you don't want me comin' over to your
saloon, I'll go back to the hotel where I spent the past couple nights. If I'm
in the way, just say so."

"In the
way?" Sparkle repeated, awestruck. How could anyone be so dense?
"You're not
in the way
, Rafe. You're
hurt
. And it's your own
fault, because you carry that gun and look for trouble. You keep looking until
it finds you. I'm sorry you were shot. I'm sorry you carry a peacemaker. But
your decision to risk your neck has nothing to do with me. I have to get back to
work."

He wouldn't let her
by. "You're mad because I got shot? If I'd had those idiots arrested
without a nick on me, that would've been just fine? This is nothin', Sparkle.
I've had worse."

"Indeed."

She couldn't admit
how terrified she'd been at the news he'd been injured or her overwhelming
relief at learning he was all right. She certainly couldn't say she was
thrilled to see him again. Yet it was true, against all logic. Her heart had
begun to beat faster the moment their eyes met. It was insane. Especially after
seeing the toll of his profession firsthand. She should be running down Main
Street as fast and as far from this lunatic as she could get.

But one look at
Rafe's dark eyes, his square jaw and slightly crooked nose…One touch from his
damned talented lips, and she was limp jelly. Every other man just faded into
obscurity, ceased to exist. Phenomenal, since Rafe wasn't exactly handsome. The
new faro dealer at the Scarlet Lady was better looking. So was Joe Brooks, if a
woman measured by facial features alone. But she didn't, and Rafe was pure male
animal. Too much male animal.

She dodged his
grasp and struck out again, ignoring his footfalls beside her. Pretending she
wasn't secretly pleased he was headed back to the saloon, despite the fact she
hadn't given him even the slightest encouragement. Telling herself step by
stubborn step that she shouldn't feel attracted to a man so deceptively
ordinary
.
She had no business with this man—whose speech rippled and flowed like a wide
creek in the summertime—because it was a lie of the most insidious kind. Theirs
was no safe association. That same man was likely to blast a stranger to
Kingdom Come without a second thought.

She shouldn't feel
drawn to Rafe. And she absolutely, without equivocation shouldn't even consider
allowing him to spend another night in her bed. But she was.

The whole town
believed he was her husband. Everyone would expect to see them together. Frazer
would expect it. He'd told her to fetch her husband. She had myriad thoughts
swirling through her mind, none of them framing a cogent explanation as to why
Rafe would be up and walking around, but not staying with her at the Scarlet
Lady. None of them adding up to a tale Frazer would buy.

She inhaled
harshly. "What do you want me to say? That if I'd walked into that surgery
and the doctor had pulled a sheet up over you on his table, I would have torn
it back and wept over your dead body, like a real wife?"

Rafe thought there
was more sarcasm than reality in that barb. Best to sidestep the gunshot
argument. Women could be damned unreasonable about firearms. "Maybe we
should talk about this later. My arm's throbbin' and you'll be late. If Frazer
gets after you about this, I'll either have to shoot him or pay him to lay off.
Got a preference?" He grinned even before she gave him the answer he
expected.

"I think
there's been enough shooting for one day. Come on."

Rafe chugged back
three shots of straight Kentucky bourbon at the bar while Sparkle changed into
her costume. He wasn't feeling much pain or anything else by the time Frazer
and a faro dealer carried him up to her room, stripped him, and tossed the
blanket over him.

Sparkle found him
sound asleep when she came upstairs after her shift. She was exhausted, but
pleased to tuck a nice roll of bills into her cache box. She'd donned her
nightgown and settled beside Rafe when she heard his hoarse whisper.
"Darlin', my arm's killin' me. Can you get me some more whiskey?"

She brought the
bottle of laudanum and he took a dainty sip. "You can do better than
that," she scolded mildly. "I don't want you waking me up again in an
hour."

"Don't like
medicine, but I don't want to trouble you." He grabbed the bottle and took
another drink.

Sparkle put the
vial on the bedside table near him and sighed as she climbed back under the
covers. "Rafe Conley, I swear I'll divorce you one of these days if you
don't hang up that goddamned gun."

Sparkle opened the
bedroom door at the soft knock. Ruby Ann stood in the hallway with lunch on a
tray. "How's he doin', Sparkle?"

"He'll be all
right." Sparkle yawned. It was almost noon, but she'd only awakened
moments before Ruby Ann's arrival. Rafe was still sleeping, thanks to the heavy
dose of laudanum she persuaded him to drink just before dawn.

"Don't it
scare you, him goin' up against desperadoes like that?" Ruby set the tray
on the dresser and glanced back at the sleeping form in the bed.

"Yes, Ruby. It
scares the hell out of me."

Ruby rubbed her
chin nervously. "Listen, you know enough to use a preventative, right? It
wouldn't be sensible to get knocked up. Little one growin' up without a father
case he got himself killed, ma workin' in a dump for some greedy bastard like
Benton. Give him this if you ain't already wearin' protection."