HisBootsUnderHerBed (4 page)

She glanced up at him. “Did I ever mention I can’t abide cheery people in the morning until at least my second cup of coffee?”

He removed his hat, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “And how many cups have you had?”

“Only one.”

He motioned to the nearby waiter.

“Pop said you left early,” she said after the waiter refilled her cup.

“I’m an early riser.”

“I usually am, too. I don’t know what got into me,” she said.

He leaned back in the chair and stared at her.

Finally she sighed and put down the cup. “Okay, what’s on your mind, Fraser?”

“I was thinking how cute you look this morning.”

“Cute?” She laughed infectiously. “Nobody’s called me
cute
since my mother died. Don’t tell me that line worked for you before, Fraser?”

“Well, how else would I describe you? Curls the color of cornsilk, eyes as blue as a summer sky, and cheeks as rosy as a…ah…”

“Rose,” she gibed. “Please, Fraser, I just ate; give me a chance to digest my food.”

“You feel like taking a walk, Rory?”

“Where to?”

“Some peaceful place where we can be alone.”

She arched a brow. “And you only have talking in mind?”

“Why would you doubt it? I do have talking
in
mind, but since I met you, I’ll admit I always have another thought
on
my mind. Afraid to take the risk?”

Despite her common sense, Rory was flattered by his continued attraction to her. And since she enjoyed his company, she felt confident enough to be reckless when she saw the challenge in his brown eyes.

“I know just the place,” she said.

She led him to a shaded hillside overlooking the ocean, deserted except for some seagulls sunning themselves on the rocks below. They sat down and for a long moment gazed at the waves crashing against the rocks.

“It’s nice here,” he said. “Kind of as if you’re in a different world, isn’t it?”

“I discovered it a couple of weeks ago,” Rory said. “I come here every day now to escape for a few hours. Just the seagulls, the ocean, and me.”

He stretched out and tucked his hands under his head. “Do you ever plan on settling down, Rory?”

“Certainly. And I hope it will be sooner, rather than later. But I don’t think I’ll be that lucky. What about you?”

“Much later, rather than sooner. I’m just getting started,” he said. “Where are you planning on going when you leave here?”

She gazed pensively at the blue waters of the Pacific. “Wherever the road leads, I guess. Do you have a wife or sweetheart waiting for you back in Virginia?”

“No wife. No sweetheart. I never came near to wanting either. Now the war’s over, my folks are gone, and my brothers and sister have gotten on with their lives, so now I can get on with mine. What about you, Rory? Ever been married or in love?”

“No.”

“How long do you expect to move around with your father?”

“I always figured on doing so until something or someone came along that appealed to me more. That hasn’t happened yet, so I’ll stick with Pop until it does. He and I get along well, and we’re both pretty much our own person.” Her eyes danced with deviltry. “Although he does accuse me at times of being as bossy as my maternal grandmother.”

“What happens if you fall in love or get married?”

“Then I guess we’d have to go our separate ways, because I doubt a husband would want him to live with us, any more than Pop would be willing to give up his wandering ways. He’s a nomad at heart—and very set in his ways. I love him dearly, though, and his illness really has me scared. I wish he
would
decide to settle down, but it’s not his nature. Whatever you do, don’t mention your gold mine to him, or he’ll grab a pick and be off with you. You’re both dreamers.”

He sat up and she sensed what he was about to say. Before he could, she said, “So, you’re getting ready to leave. Today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“I could tell you were holding back something you didn’t want to tell me. Why not? For the past two nights, I’ve been telling you to get out of this town. As soon as Pop gets his strength back we’ll be saying good-bye to this place, too, and believe me, it will be the happiest day of my life.”

“I hate to say good-bye to you, Rory.”

She forced a smile. “You’d have to sometime anyway, so better sooner than later. Besides, you’re not going to find gold in this town.”

“How can you be sure? I might be looking at it right now.”

Her eyes flashed with amusement. “Those are pretty sweet words, Garth Fraser, but I’m still not going to go to bed with you.”

“I’m not saying it just to get you into bed, Rory; I mean what I said. There’s something very different about you from the other girls I’ve met in saloons. And even though we’ve known each other for just a short time, I want you to know you can always count on me as a friend.”

“Although I believe you’re sincere, Garth, I think some of what you feel is more gratitude than friendship.”

He picked up her hand and clasped it between his own. “Of course I’m grateful to you; you saved my life. But I meant what I said. As much as I want you physically, I want you as a friend just as much.”

She laughed lightly. “So
that’s
why you went upstairs with Shelia.”

“Will you forget that, please? My brain was between my legs, Rory.”

“I already figured that out—and it still is.” She slipped her hand out of his.

Garth clutched his hands to his chest dramatically. “You wound me, lady. It’s my heart that I’m thinking with now. Surely you must have a soft spot for me. How can you just say good-bye and that’s the end of it, when you know how much I want to make love to you?”

“Some good-byes are more painful than others, and I admit I’ve come to like you very much—but I have no intention of letting you make love to me. So please don’t make this any harder than it is.”

He threw his hands up hopelessly. “Okay, I admit it. I had a score to settle with Bates and Skull and some unfinished business with you. So I sure wasn’t going to run away. There’s no doubt they’re gone now; and try as I might, it looks like I’m not getting anywhere with you, either—so I guess I have no excuse to hang around any longer. But I expect to have the last laugh when I hit my strike and split it with you for saving my life.”

“And just how do you expect to find me if you do?”

“Not if,
when
, I’ll be so rich then, I’ll be able to put a dozen bloodhounds to sniffing your trail.”

She laughed gaily. “Well, I’ll look forward to it. And you surprise me, Mr. Fraser. I didn’t expect you to surrender so easily.”

He rolled over on his side and pulled her down beside him. “Lady, if you’re flirting with me, I could read a lot into that statement.”

“Such as?” she asked, with a coquettish toss of her head.

Lying back, he pulled her across him and searched her face with a seductive gaze. “Like I said, we’ve some unfinished business, Rory O’Grady. And I’ll find you again wherever you go.”

“Even when you’re as rich as Croesus,” she teased.

“Richer,” he murmured.

“You
are
making this good-bye painful,” she whispered. Dipping her head, she kissed him.

“Oh, God, baby,” Garth murmured, when she broke the kiss and raised her head. He slipped his hands into her hair and pulled her back.

“Don’t get your hopes too high, because it won’t do you any good. We’ve got company,” she said breathlessly. She nodded toward two children who had appeared on the top of the hillside above them.

Garth sat up in disbelief. “Why, Lord? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

L
ater that evening as he waited for Rory, Garth sat in on a poker game with Paddy O’Grady and several other men. Within the hour he won over fifty dollars.

Seeing Rory come into the Grotto, Garth didn’t want to waste any more time on a poker game. This would be their final night together, and he hadn’t given up hope of getting her into bed.

“Deal me out.” He shoved back his chair and picked up his winnings.

A belligerent, “You leaving?” came from a whiskey drummer named McGill, who had lost continually since they sat down.

Smiling good-naturedly, Garth said, “Mr. McGill, a beautiful woman just came in, and I have a tremendous urge to dance with her.”

“Ain’t right for you to leave, Fraser, without giving me a chance to win back some of my money.”

“Sorry, Mr. McGill. And if I were you, I’d quit before you lose any more. Good luck, sir. You need it.”

Garth moved over to Rory’s table and laid down a dollar. “I believe this puts me on your dance card for the next four dances, Miss O’Grady.”

“Pop having any luck in that poker game?” she asked as they circled the dance floor.

“He’s doing real good for himself. See that drummer in the checkered vest? Not only is he the worst poker player I’ve ever seen, but he’s been drinking steadily since he sat down. Booze and cards don’t mix. I won fifty dollars from him, and your father at least twice that.”

For the next hour Garth monopolized all of Rory’s time. They danced or sat talking. If anyone approached her to dance, Garth would declare he had claimed her already, and they’d get up and dance again.

“You realize, Rory, I’m leaving first thing in the morning,” he said when they sat back down.

“And I wish you a pleasant and safe journey,” she said, amused.

“And you actually intend to let me leave without making me a
very
happy man?”

“I know. Sad, isn’t it?” She patted his hand. “Life is full of one disappointment after another.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “But it doesn’t have to be, Miss Rory.”

“It does if you’re figuring on me going upstairs with you.” She drew away.

Garth clasped her hand. “What are you afraid of, Rory?”

She batted her eyelashes. “I’m afraid I’ll enjoy it too much and will want to make it become a habit, but you’d no longer be here to satisfy me, so I’d have to settle for lower quality.” She stood up. “Time to dance.”

Garth got to his feet and took her in his arms. “Make jokes if you want to, honey, but can’t you feel the excitement when our bodies touch?” he whispered. “At least let’s go someplace where we can be alone without a dozen pairs of eyes on us.”

“I don’t think so; there’s safety in numbers.”

“Don’t you trust yourself, Rory?”

“Of course I do.”

He grabbed her by the hand. “Then come on, honey, we’re getting out of here.”

Suddenly, cursing, McGill got up from the poker table and staggered over to them. “I remember you. You were at the poker table. That old man cheated me.”

“I don’t think so, McGill.”

“You in cahoots with him?”

“I’m not in cahoots with anyone. You’re just a rotten poker player,” Garth declared, clearly irritated by McGill’s intrusion.

He was on the verge of succeeding in his goal with Rory and wasn’t about to let this loudmouth drunk interfere with his plans. “Now if you’ll excuse us, McGill, the lady and I were about to leave.”

They moved past him, then Rory froze in her tracks when McGill yelled, “The old man cheated me, and he’s gonna pay for it. Nobody gets away with cheating Bill McGill.”

Chairs crashed to the floor as the other poker players scrambled away when McGill reached for the gun in his pocket.

Before he could even draw it, he found himself looking at the drawn Colt in Garth’s hand.

“Don’t even think it,” Garth warned.

“I was right; you’re working with him,” McGill accused.

“Wrong again, McGill, but I’m not going to stand by and watch a drunken loser like you shoot down an unarmed man.”

“It’s not your fight, Fraser,” Mo said. “If O’Grady was cheatin’, he deserves what he gets.”

“I wasn’t cheating,” Paddy said. “And there’s no man here who can ever accuse Paddy O’Grady of cheating at cards.”

“He’s right, Mo,” one of the other players called out. “Paddy was havin’ a lucky run of cards, and this fella didn’t have the sense to fold when he should of.”

Garth slipped his gun back in its holster and turned away to rejoin Rory.

Too drunk to quit while he was ahead, McGill picked up a chair. Rory cried out a warning and Garth turned, too late to ward off the blow that knocked him off his feet. He crashed into the table where Paddy was sitting, and before he could get to his feet, the drunken man leaped on him. The two men wrestled for a long moment before Garth was able to pin McGill’s arms to the floor.

“Garth, behind you,” Rory cried out.

The warning came too late, and Mo’s blackjack smashed him in the head. Garth pitched forward, unconscious.

Attracted by the noise, the sheriff rushed into the bar. “What in hell’s going on here?”

In the commotion that followed, nobody noticed Paddy O’Grady use his foot to shove under the table the folded paper that had fallen out of Garth’s shirt during the scuffle. He sat back down in his seat, and then bent and picked up the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

“I want you to lock this bum up,” Mo said, pointing to Garth lying unconscious on the floor. “He’s been trouble ever since he showed up here.”

“He didn’t start the fight. That man did,” Rory declared, pointing to McGill.

“The guy’s drunk, and Fraser threw a punch at him,” Mo said. “So I whacked him on the head before he could cause any more trouble.”

The sheriff bent over Garth. “Ain’t this the same guy who claimed a couple guys tried to shanghai him?”

“Yeah, when the two were sitting in here all the time,” Mo said. Rory saw him exchange a meaningful glance with the sheriff. “I told you he’s trouble.”

“Fraser was telling the truth,” Rory said. “I was there and saw them.”

The sheriff ignored her. “Someone help me tote this guy over to the jail. Maybe a night behind bars will cool him down.”

“What about McGill?” Rory demanded. “He was going to shoot my father, and Fraser stopped him. That’s how the fight started.”

“Can anyone here back up what she’s saying?” the sheriff asked.

“I can,” Paddy said. “The lad only tried to help me.”

Mo snorted. “Don’t pay no attention to him.”

“Yeah, he cheated in the poker game,” McGill accused.

One of the other men spoke up. “That ain’t true, Sheriff Buckman. I sat in on that game, and Paddy wasn’t cheating.”

“Okay, Mr. McGill, get out of here and sleep it off,” Buckman said. “Polk, give me a hand with this big fellow.”

As soon as the sheriff departed, Mo turned to Rory. “You’re through here—you and your father. I don’t want either of you steppin’ a foot back in here again.” He snatched off the velvet pouch Rory had pinned to her gown. “And I’ll keep what you made tonight to pay for the chair your boyfriend broke. Now, get going. Both of you.”

“Get packing, darlin’,” Paddy declared as soon as they returned to their rooms. “We’re leaving on the morning stage.”

“What’s the big rush, Pop? You aren’t ready yet to do any traveling. And I want time to say good-bye to the friends I’ve made here.”

“What friends?” Paddy asked. “I’m thinking you mean that Fraser fella.”

“I would like to make sure he’s okay, Pop. After all, he did save your life. That drunken McGill would have killed you if Garth hadn’t intervened.”

“Garth, is it! More call for us to be leaving, before you have any more to do with the man. He’s a drifter, girl, and once he has his way with you, he’ll leave.”

“You’re a stubborn man, Pop, and once you get a thought in your mind, there’s no changing it. I know what Garth’s up to, but I’m grateful to him for saving the life of the only man I love.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Besides, I think we should stop and consider where we want to go.”

Paddy held up a finger and winked. “I’ve done the considering.” He pulled Garth’s map out of his pocket and spread it out on the table. “We’ll be going right there,” he said, pointing to the
X
on the map.

“Why, that’s the map Garth showed me.” Frowning, she asked, “What are you doing with it?”

“I won it from him in the poker game.”

Rory looked doubtful. “Garth wouldn’t give up his map, Pop; that gold mine’s his dream. You must give it back to him.”

“Are you daft, girl? I’ll do no such thing. Me heart aches for the lad, but he’d have taken me money if
he’d
won the hand.”

“I don’t care. Besides, it’s crazy to go chasing off after a gold mine that he didn’t even know if his uncle had filed a claim on.”

He cocked a shaggy brow at her and with a wily smile asked, “What do you really know about the man, darlin’? Could be he has a dozen of these fake maps and is conning poor souls like meself out of our money.”

“That’s nonsense! Garth’s an honest man. Pop, you think up a ridiculous scheme like that, and then start believing it yourself.”

“So you say. But gold brings out the worst in people.”

Disgusted, she said, “I can see that. Furthermore, if you’re so sure it’s a fake map, why are you so eager to rush off to it?”

“What have we got to lose, darlin’?”

“For one thing, it takes a grubstake. We don’t have much money.”

“I won enough to get us started,” he said with a cocky smile.

“And what do we do when we run out of money? Oh, Pop, between you and Garth, you don’t have the common sense of a gnat! What if the map’s genuine? At least we should have the decency to ask him and find out if he wants to come with us.”

Paddy shook his head. “Why? So’s he can run off with the gold when we’re through?”

“But you’re convinced it’s a fake.”

“Me mind’s made up, girl. Are you coming with me or not?”

Rory sighed in resignation. “I can’t very well let you roam around the mountains alone. Lord knows what might happen to you. And I can’t stay here. Sheriff Buckman will see to that. But like it not, we only give it thirty days. If we don’t strike gold by then, we leave. Do you agree?”

“Agreed.” Padddy grinned widely, then kissed her cheek. “That’s me girl.”

“I still feel it’s not fair to Garth. We’re indebted to him for saving your life tonight.”

“And you saved his, didn’t you? So the score’s even.”

Whistling, he danced a jig into his room.

Thoughts of Garth troubled her mind as Rory stared at her image in the cracked mirror on the wall. “Maybe it’s just as well you don’t say good-bye to him. Leaving now will save you a lot of heartache later. As for the money, Pop might as well waste it on mining supplies instead of whiskey.”

Desolately, she turned away and pulled out a worn carpetbag from under the bed, packed her few belongings, and went to bed.

But sleep didn’t come easy. The last couple of days had been almost magical to her. Garth was very exciting to be around. He was handsome and amusing to talk to. She bet they could talk for hours, and she’d never get bored listening to the deep warmth of his voice.

His kisses thrilled her. A shiver rippled her spine when she thought of the heat of his hand when he clasped hers, and the feel of it on her back, with his warm breath against her ear as he whispered to her when they danced.

She knew his intentions were to get her in bed with him, and there were times when they were talking and dancing that the thought had certainly crossed her mind. Her insides tingled when she was with him. Never having been intimate with a man before, she had no idea what she was feeling. She could only guess that having sex must be a wondrous sensation, since it drove men to spend even their last dollar to have it.

And she thought of how close she had come to succumbing to that sweet seduction today by the coastline. It would have been such a mistake.

Early the following morning, as she climbed on the stagecoach, Rory cast a lingering backward glance at the jailhouse.

Good-bye, Garth Fraser. It was lovely knowing you.

Garth sat up on the cot and looked around. Since his arrival in Buckman three nights ago, he’d awakened every morning in a different bed. How in hell had he ended up in a jail cell?

“So you’re finally awake.”

Not the best good morning to wake to. It was clear he wasn’t going to win any popularity awards in this town.

“Good morning, Sheriff. Why am I locked up in here?”

“Disturbin’ the peace.”

“You mean that fight in the Grotto?”

“What do you think?”

“I didn’t start that fight, Sheriff. McGill was threatening to shoot Paddy O’Grady.”

“I’ve got a witness that says otherwise.”

“Who is it?”

“Mo Buckman,” the sheriff said.

“Buckman? Isn’t that your name, too?”

“Yeah, Mo and me are cousins.”

Great
. “Sheriff Buckman, there were over a half-dozen people in that bar who must have seen and heard what happened.”

“Zat so? Well, Mo was the only one who spoke up.”

“I know Rory O’Grady witnessed it all.”

Buckman snorted. “I ain’t gonna take the word of a saloon whore over the town’s mayor.”

“Mo’s the town’s mayor?” Talk about kangaroo courts! He would never get out of this cell.

“Yeah, he founded the town. Put up his saloon, and before we knew it, we had a town. I’m givin’ you a break,” Buckman said, unlocking the cell door. “You’ve got a hour to get your ass out of town, Fraser. You’ve been nothin’ but trouble since you showed up here.” The sheriff shoved Garth’s gun belt and hat at him. “If I see your ugly face around here, I’m shipping you to prison.”

“Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty, Sheriff?”

“Don’t push me, Fraser. Ain’t that smart-ass mouth of yours got you into enough trouble already? Get going.”

“After I say good-bye to the O’Gradys, no one will be happier than I to leave this town.”

Buckman smirked. “Them two hightailed it out of here on the morning stage.”