Hunter's Moon (Hunter Family Saga; Half-Moon Ranch 1) (4 page)

It had been nearly four years now, and Crystal
had had enough. She didn't like cheating people.

She made up her mind that tomorrow she was
going to tell Dan he was on his own. The decision
filled her with a great sense of relief as she went to
bed, and she fell asleep quickly. Soon this life she'd
been living would be over.

Crystal wasn't sure what woke her, but she sat up in
bed and was startled to see the shadow of someone
in her room. It looked like a man, and he was
closing the door behind him.

"Dan?"

The man didn't answer as he locked the door.

"What are you doing?" She started to get up, still
thinking it was Dan. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, honey, everything is just fine."

Crystal went still at the sound of the leering,
horrible voice. The man moved close enough for her
to recognize him. It was John Hall.

She grabbed her blanket and clutched it to her
breast, but she knew it offered little in the way of
real protection. Dan had often encouraged her to
keep a derringer with her, but she'd always refused.
Now she wished she had a gun to defend herself.

"What are you doing in here? Get out!"

"Now, that's no way to greet me," Hall said in a
lecherous voice as he slowly crossed the room to ward her. "Your brother sent me to you."

"What?" Shock radiated through Crystal.

"I just left Dan. He didn't have my money,
but he said you'd work it out for me. I was
watching you all night. You are one pretty
woman, and a piece of you might just
settle up what he owes me-if what your brother
says about you is true. He says you're still a
virgin." Hall loomed before her, tall and
threatening.

Panic seized Crystal. She was trapped. Dan
wanted her to play the whore to settle his gambling
debts!

"There must be a mistake-" Crystal started to
protest.

"No, Crystal, there's no mistake. You're mine for
the rest of the night, and Dan said you'd be real
good to me."

Hall reached out and grabbed Crystal by the
upper arms, dragging her up to him. She struggled
to break free, but she was no match for his strength.
He held her easily.

"I like feisty women." He laughed in her ear.
"Come on, honey, fight me some more."

His words chilled Crystal. He tore the blanket
from her grip and pawed at her breasts through her
nightgown. She began to tremble as he crushed her
tightly against him.

"Stop it! Let me go or I'll scream! My brother
would never send you here!"

"Go ahead and scream. Ain't no one going to hear
you," he breathed in her ear.

His mouth covered hers, and his tongue plunged
into her mouth in a vile kiss.

"No!" Crystal shrieked, jerking her head away to
avoid his nauseating assault.

Again Hall laughed at her. "Yeah, you're going to
be fun to ride."

He pushed her.

The side of the bed hit her at the backs of her
knees, and Crystal fell backward. Moments before,
she'd thought the bed was her safe haven, but now it
had become an instrument of this man's terror.

Hall loomed over her. He stripped off his shirt
and started to unbutton his pants.

"Let's find out if Dan was telling me the truth
about you." His voice was filled with lust, and drool
slicked his lips as he leaned down toward her. "I
think one night with you ought to pay some of his
debt to me-if you make it worth my while."

Hall grabbed the neckline of her gown. In one
harsh pull he tore the soft garment down
the front, baring her lovely body to his gaze. He
started to unfasten his pants. He was
ready for her and determined to have his
pleasure.

Crystal had never been so frightened in all her life.
She twisted to the side just as he would have fallen
upon her. She couldn't believe her own brother had
done this to her!

Reaching out, Crystal groped in the darkness,
searching for something-anything-she could use
as a weapon. Her hand touched the lamp on the
nightstand beside the bed, and she knew what she
had to do. Crystal grabbed it just as he snared her
other arm.

Hall had been ready to throw Crystal back down
on the bed. He was thinking only of parting her
thighs and thrusting deep within her. He was hard
with wanting her, and nothing was going to stop
him from having her. He jerked her toward him.

Crystal swung out at him with all her might and
brought the lamp crashing down in his face. The
glass chimney shattered on contact, and Hall
collapsed. He lay half on top of her, a deadweight.

Frantic and frightened, Crystal fought to escape.
She shoved at him with all her might, and he slid,
facedown, to the floor. She scrambled off the bed
and then cowered, frozen, on the far side of the
room, clutching her torn gown together, fearing that
at any moment he would get back up and come after
her.

But Hall didn't move. Crystal waited, expecting
the worst. Still, he didn't move. Terror of a different
kind filled her. Had she killed him? Was he dead?

Horror ate at her as she crept toward where he
lay. She tried to see if Hall was still breathing, but in
the darkness she could discern no movement of his
chest. Blood covered his face and pooled beneath his
head.

Crystal knew in that moment what she had to do.
She had to flee.

There was no one she could turn to for help. Dan
wanted to make her a whore. He had sent this man
to her to settle his own debts. Her only brother had
betrayed her in the most horrible way.

Crystal knew she could never trust Dan again.

She knew, too, that no one in town would believe
she'd killed Hall in self-defense. Hall was an
influential man in these parts, and she was only a
dance-hall girl. If she were going to save herself, she
had to run away that very night. She was on her own
now, and she was a wanted woman.

She stripped off the remnants of her ruined
nightgown, then quickly dressed. She stuffed what
clothing she could fit into one bag. Then she
grabbed up her mother's jewelry and the little cash
she had kept hidden from Dan in her room. It
wasn't much, but she hoped it would get her out of
town.

She had only a few hours until dawn.

She had to move quickly.

San Antonio, six months later

"All right, everybody, quiet down!" ordered Bill
Clark, the bartender and owner of the Six Gun
Saloon. "It's time for Miss Opal to perform!"

A rousing cheer went up.

The men had been waiting all evening for just this
moment. They all turned and eagerly faced the stage
at the back of the room. They were more than ready
to see the blond beauty whose reputation had spread
far and wide in the few months she'd been working
at the Six Gun. Even the saloon girls turned their
attention to the stage.

Everyone loved Miss Opal.

The curtain parted. An expectant hush fell over
the crowd. And then Miss Opal made her entrance.

She was the epitome of the seductress as she
moved gracefully to center stage. She wore a red
satin gown that, though demurely cut, clung
enticingly to her perfect figure. The men shouted
their approval as she stopped before them.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Crystal greeted them
in a throaty voice, smiling warmly in welcome. She
had taken to using the name Opal since she'd come
to San Antonio some months before. No one knew
her real name, and she intended to keep it that way.

"Evenin', Miss Opal!" they shouted back.

The piano player began the first melody, and she
started to sing. Her voice rang out pure and sweet.

These men were a rough-and-tumble bunch, but
they knew true talent when they heard it. Miss Opal
had the voice of an angel, and they were enchanted.
When she finished her first selection, they roared
their approval and clamored for more. She obliged
them.

"Hey, Bill! This new singer of yours is one pretty
woman, and she's as good as everyone's been saying.
Where'd you find her?" Joe Meyers asked as he
shoved his empty glass toward the bartender for a
refill. He had been drinking heavily all evening, and
he didn't intend to stop.

"Opal found me," Bill answered as he poured Joe
another drink. "She came in here about two months
ago looking for a job. When I heard her sing, I hired
her on the spot. It was one of the smartest things I
ever did. Business has been booming."

"I can see why. What's she do besides sing?" Joe
asked hopefully. A lecherous gleam lit his eyes as he
imagined himself spending the rest of the evening
with her, upstairs in one of the private rooms. He'd
make her warble real good.

"Nothing." The bartender's answer was firm.

"Nothing?" Joe repeated, surprised. In his
experience, the women who worked in saloons were
willing to do just about anything to make money.

"That's right. Opal is a lady."

Irritated that he would have no chance to seek his
pleasure with the beautiful singer, Joe turned his
attention back to the stage to listen to the rest of her
performance.

Crystal had learned long ago how to keep an
audience entertained. She flirted openly with her
admirers. She wanted each man to believe she was
singing) ust for him.

Crystal didn't know what made her glance toward
the front of the saloon, but as she did a tall, darkhaired stranger appeared through the swinging
doors. She was sure she had never seen the man
before, for she certainly would have remembered
him. He was ruggedly handsome, and he had a
compelling aura of power and command about
him. There was also an element of danger-in the
way he wore his gun low on his hip and the way he
moved. Attractive though he was, Crystal made it a
rule never to get involved with any of her cus tomers. With that rule in mind, she started to force
her attention away from him.

And then he looked her way.

Their gazes met across the crowded room, and a
surge of sensual awareness shot through Crystal
unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Her
reaction to him took her completely by surprise.
Wanting to maintain her composure, she quickly
looked away and continued to sing to her adoring
fans. She couldn't afford to be distracted.

Brent Hunter had come to the Six Gun Saloon because
he needed a drink, and that was saying something for
him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had one.
He generally had no use for liquor, and, in fact, did not
allow it at the Half-Moon. He had seen firsthand the
tragedy drunkenness could cause, and he wanted no
part of it.

But tonight was different.

After what he'd dealt with today, Brent needed
not only a drink, but some peace and quiet, too. As
he'd neared the saloon, he'd heard the loud cheering
going on inside and realized he wasn't going to find
much peace there. He'd almost decided to go on to
another bar when he'd heard the woman singing
inside.

Drawn into the saloon by her siren's song, Brent
wasn't quite sure what to expect. Certainly he hadn't
expected the entertainer to be anything like the
vision gracing the stage at the back of the room. The woman was beautiful. She had the voice of an
angel, and she looked like one, too.

If she's working at the Six Gun, she's no angel, Brent
reminded himself as he made his way over to the bar.

"Whiskey," he ordered, and he was glad when the
barkeep quickly complied. He drained the glass. The
whiskey burned all the way down, but he didn't care.
He needed the relief it would give him tonight. He
pushed the glass back for a refill.

"Thirsty tonight?" Bill asked, trying to be friendly.

"Yes," he answered in a curt tone he hoped would
let the bartender know he didn't want to talk.

Brent picked up the tumbler and took another
swallow of the powerful liquor. He hoped it worked
fast. It had been a hell of a day, and what he faced
tomorrow would be even worse.

"You new in town?"

"Just passing through."

"Well, enjoy your stay." Bill moved off to wait on
another customer.

Brent was glad when the bartender had gone. The
last thing he wanted was company. He had some
serious thinking to do.

He frowned as he thought about the meeting he'd
had at Fort Sam Houston. He'd made the trip there
to work out the details of an arrangement to sell
horses to the army.

He'd thought they had had a deal. He'd thought
everything was settled. He'd been wrong.

When the officer negotiating with him demanded
a "payment" to secure the transaction, Brent had
been outraged and walked out.

He shook his head in disgust at the memory and
downed another drink.

Money talked.

He knew that.

God knew, he'd just spent the past ten years
working twelve-and eighteen-hour days to make
enough money to get the ranch out of debt. He
finally had paid off the last of his father's loans and
had been counting on the army contract to put the
Half-Moon in good financial shape. But they'd
wanted a bribe-a big bribe-and he didn't have the
cash to pay it.