Reese (4 page)

She faltered a step. No one else had ever looked at her like that. Mary wasn't sure the omission was a bad thing, either, if it made her mind go mushy. She had neither the time nor the patience for nonsense.

Reverend Clancy, Jo's father and the closest thing Rock Creek had to a mayor these days, stepped out of the crowd. Personally, Mary thought he was a pompous ass, but he was all they had for a preacher too. The way he treated Jo, his only child, sometimes made Mary want to kick the man in the shins. She was no doubt courting hell with such thoughts, but sometimes she couldn't stop them.

"Reverend," she began.

"Present!" shouted the drunk. Nate, Reese had called him.

Mary glanced over her shoulder. Jo was riding the man's horse astride, holding him in the saddle with her arms around him. With her skirt hiked up, her ankles were clearly visible, and as Mary watched, Nate laid his hand on her thigh.

"Josephine Clancy!" The reverend's impressive belly heaved with the force of his outrage, and his shock of gray hair shook like a tiny tree in a big wind.

"Hell," Mary muttered. "We're all going there."

Jo glanced over at her father's bellow, but she did not blanch or shirk or even remove Nate's hand from her leg. Instead, she merely nodded to her father as if he'd been greeting her politely. "I'm taking Nate to his room. He should lie down." Then she turned the horse toward the Rock Creek Hotel.

Reverend Clancy appeared as if he were about to have heart failure. Despite his constant harangues over her behavior, Jo pretty much did as she saw fit. Her creed was "do unto others," and a more Christian soul you'd never want to meet. If her father could see past his ideas of proper, ladylike behavior, he might even be proud of the daughter he'd raised in spite of himself.

"Reverend." Mary stepped forward as Clancy stepped in the direction of the hotel. "These are the men I hired to help us."

Obviously torn between going after his daughter and meeting the hired guns Mary had hunted down, Clancy wavered. The reverend hadn't wanted Mary to go to Dallas. But since he wasn't willing to
do
anything, when she'd gotten the rest of the town to agree, he'd had no choice but to accept her plan. As a result, he wasn't too happy with Mary, but then he never had been.

Reese stepped forward and held out his hand. "Name's Reese, Reverend."

Clancy stared at Reese's hand as if he expected to see a snake there. Instead of shaking the proffered hand, he nodded once and put his own behind his back, out of reach of the rabble.

Reese's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, merely turned and introduced the rest of the men. "You've met Jed Rourke, I assume. Or at least one of you did." He raised a brow at Mary. "Sullivan, Rico, Cash, and Miss Clancy's new friend, Nate."

He turned back to the reverend with a smirk. Mary saw where the meeting was headed and stepped between the two. "Thank you. Now I'll just take y'all to the hotel and you can get settled."

Clancy and Reese glared at each other like two dogs over a bone, though what the bone was, in this case, Mary couldn't quite fathom.

She didn't want to touch Reese, but she needed to get his attention. If he came along with her, the rest would follow; she'd seen that right off. What was it about Reese that made him their leader?

Well, that was neither here nor there as long as he could keep them in line. Because if these men got out of control in Rock Creek, they'd be
worse
than the men she'd hired them to chase off.

Mary shivered and thought again,
What have I done?

Before she could go down the same road, a second time, toward answers she didn't have, Mary reached out and clasped Reese's forearm. He tensed and yanked away, hand going to his gun in one fluid movement that would have been beautiful if it weren't so deadly.

"Stop! Right now!" she ordered, surprising herself.

Clancy skittered back, out of harm's way.
Coward.
Reese turned his head just a bit, and his eyes met hers. Whereas he'd been completely civilized up until now, introducing his men as if they'd come to dance at a ball, the civility was gone, eaten, no doubt, by the animal in his eyes.

"I'm not one of your students, Miss McKendrick. Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm your employer." Mary swallowed the fear she knew better than to show. "I'll tell you whatever I wish. What's the matter with you?"

"The world I live in is a bit different from yours. Don't grab me when I don't expect it. The same goes for the rest of my men. You won't like what happens if you startle them."

"I suspect not. Now take your hand off that gun."

He raised an eyebrow but did as she said. "Let's get one thing straight; I'm in charge here. You can try to tell them what to do"—he jerked his head at the four behind him—"but I don't think they'd be of a mind to listen."

Mary glanced at the others. Their gazes were dark, cold, nearly feral. "Fine. You deal with them. I'll deal with you."

"Agreed. Lead on, Miss McKendrick."

Mary cast a glance at the people of Rock Creek. As always, everyone waited for her to take charge and do what had to be done. Reverend Clancy had disappeared, no doubt running all the way back to the rectory.

If she'd left things to Clancy, they'd have turned the other cheek until the bandits destroyed Rock Creek, and not out of Christian charity but cowardice.

Mary had always been an organizer and a leader. She couldn't help herself. When something needed doing, everyone turned to Mary, and she accepted the challenge. She should be the mayor—except she was a woman.

Turning her back on the uneasy gazes of the townsfolk, Mary walked down Main Street in the direction of the Rock Creek Hotel. No one had used the place in a long time. As she'd told Reese in Dallas, Rock Creek was dying. The thought made her sigh.

"Something wrong?" Reese walked at her side again, leading his horse behind.

"Besides everything?"

"That bad?"

"If it wasn't, do you think I'd have gone searching for you?"

"No one ever does."

Disappointment laced his voice, and for a moment Mary felt bad. But truth was truth. She didn't think Reese was a man who needed or wanted platitudes.

"I suppose not," she agreed.

He glanced behind them then lowered his voice as if to keep the others from hearing. "I apologize for my behavior before. You shouldn't touch me unaware."

Her brow creased. The man was confusing—one moment, all animal-like grace and growls, the next, gentlemanly apologies. She nodded, accepting his words, letting them go without comment. She had as little idea how to deal with a gentleman as an outlaw.

"Here's the hotel." Mary peered up at the graying plank structure. The sign hung by a single nail. The windows were broken, and there were bullet holes in the plank, courtesy of El Diablo and crew. "There's a stable out back. It's clean, with bedding and feed for the horses."

"Is there bedding and feed for the men?"

"Of course. I know it doesn't seem like much, but the roof doesn't leak—"

"Yet."

"Yet," she agreed. "It's big, so you can all be together but still have separate rooms."

"And we won't be sleeping beneath the roofs of decent folk."

Their eyes met. Understanding passed between them. "There is that," she said.

Reese turned and instructed his men to put away their horses and go inside to choose rooms. Dusk descended in the west, spreading cool shadows across them both. The street, which had been filled with people only moments ago, had gone deserted. Mary shivered.

"Cold?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Let's step inside. You can tell me what you know about the fellows we've come to fight."

He threw his reins over the hitching post and stepped through the doors of the hotel. Though Mary would have preferred to go home and get away from the man who made her feel as if her skin hummed during every minute spent in his presence, she had little choice but to follow him inside.

In the dim light the lobby looked worse than she remembered, and Mary fought the urge to apologize further. This was the best Rock Creek had to offer these days, and there was nothing she could do about that.

Reese lit the lamp that sat on the front desk. Although dusty with disuse, the wood was fine and, once polished, would gleam again. The guest ledger still occupied the same position it had been in when the last owner, an old man named Grady, hightailed it out of town. How was she going to get this hotel going again if everyone kept running
out
of town instead of
in?

Mary didn't know, but she'd do it. Her days of running were over.

Turning away from the lamp, Reese removed his hat and tossed it on the desk. The yellow flame flickered gold across his already golden head. Without even trying, Mary remembered him half-naked and looming over her. She swallowed the scalding lump at the back of her throat and prayed that her red face did not show in the dim light.

"Sit?" he asked, flicking a finger at the dirty couch parked crookedly in front of the window.

Mary stared at the small piece of furniture, imagined how close she'd be to him if they both sat on the thing, and shook her head. He shrugged then crossed the room, passing close enough for Mary to catch his scent—horse and man and something else.

Danger? Temptation? Probably both.

He appeared ridiculous perched on the tiny, evergreen-shaded couch. His legs were too long, his body too big to be comfortable there, but he leaned back, spread his arms along the top, perched one foot atop his other knee, and stared at her. "Well?"

"Yes?" Her gaze traveled from his black boot, up his black pants, lit on his black shirt, and met his green eyes.

"The bandits. Who are they? Where are they? And what do they want?"

He was back to shooting sharp questions, and that sat just fine with her. "We don't know where they go, and they want whatever they can get for the least amount of effort. Their leader is an old Indian named El Diablo."

"The Devil?" He rolled his eyes. "Spare me."

Her lips twitched. "That's what I thought. But that's what they call him. He's collected a bunch of nasty followers. Men no one else wants all gravitate to El Diablo. Indians, Mexicans, Texans too. I even saw some gray uniforms the last time they came through."

"Confederates?"

"Former, obviously. Is that going to be a problem for you?" He hesitated, rubbing his chin with his thumb. "Reese?"

He glanced up, dropping his hand. "No. This isn't about my past; it's about your future. True soldiers of the South wouldn't prey on the innocent."

"Where have you been living?"

He blinked at her sarcastic tone. "Excuse me?"

"Soldiers of any type prey on anything they can."

"Why would you say that?"

"I'm in Texas today because of soldiers, and both sides are to blame. I don't trust government outlaws any more than I trust El Diablo's."

"You don't have to worry about my men."

"I'd better not. I'm trusting you to keep them in line. I brought you here to help. Don't make me regret it."

Though he continued to sit on the couch, seeming relaxed, his eyes sparked green fire in the glow of the lantern flames. "And what if we decided to go rogue like wild animals? What would you do about that, Miss McKendrick?"

She could not show weakness with this man, so she moved closer, until her skirt brushed the tip of his boot, and glared down her long nose at him. "I'd shoot you, Reese, like a wild animal, and bury you where no one would ever find you."

He stood in one supple movement, now staring down at her. Even though her heart fluttered with fear, she refused to retreat, since that was what he wanted. Mary was often afraid, but that never stopped her from getting the job done.

"I'd like to see you try," he whispered.

"Cross me and you will."
Big words,
her mind taunted, words she couldn't back up or she wouldn't have hired Reese and his men in the first place. But words like that, once said, could not be taken back or you'd lose whatever ground you'd gained by saying them.

A deep chuckle from the doorway caused Mary to step back. Her heel came down on her skirt, and she stumbled.

Reese snatched her shoulders, and pulled her against him. The heat that flooded the length of her body made her mind mush, and for a moment she just stared at the man who seemed to have appeared by magic in the room. Mary had not even heard the door open.

The youngest of the six lounged between the foyer and the dining room. His face was that of Lucifer's finest—dark, haunted, and beautiful.

"Quit sneaking up on people, Kid. One of these days you're going to get shot."

"Sounds like you are the one who will be shot,
mi capitan. La mujer,
she has courage."

"Mind your own business."

"But
you
are my business. If you are shot by an irate woman, what will we do?" His tone was amused, but the dark eyes, focused on Reese, were filled with concern. "Without you we are merely five separate lost souls. With you, however, we are six that become one."

"Go away, Rico. She won't shoot me."

"No?" Rico looked Mary up, then all the way down. "I am not so certain."

But he left, sliding on silent feet toward the rear of the hotel. While she couldn't hear Rico's boots, the tromp of several others' filled the room as the men went upstairs.

"You can let me go now," she said.

"Can I? Why, thank you, ma'am."

His breath brushed her cheek, and she shivered, as much from that as from the cool air that whooshed over her when he moved to stand by the window. The man gave off heat like a stovepipe.

"You were all soldiers, weren't you?"

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know,
Captain.
Why?"

"What difference does it make what we were, it's what we are that should concern you."

"And don't think it doesn't. So they follow you because you were their captain?"

"I wasn't their captain." He turned, and she could tell by the set of his face that the subject was closed. For now. "It's dark. I'll walk you home."