Reese (9 page)

Reese inched closer to Mary, as if to move away from the child behind him, and she caught the scent of lye soap. He'd bathed—somewhere. Lye was usually an unpleasant smell, but then, she'd never smelled it mixed with the scent of a man before. On Reese it was quite appealing, sharp but clean. He'd also changed his clothes, though at a glance you'd never know it.

He wore the same cut of black shirt, black vest, and black pants he'd had on yesterday. But this close, Mary could see stitching along his collar that had not graced yesterday's choice, and this vest had two pockets, not one, while his pants were cotton instead of light wool.

"I've been waiting all day for school to let out."

Her heart fluttered at the low, suggestive murmur of his voice, and she raised her gaze his face. "You have?"

He nodded. "I've got a few questions about El Diablo."

Mary's heart fell to the buttons on her boots. Silly old maid. Why would this man be waiting just for the pleasure of her company?

The sisters who had raised Mary never minced words. They'd believed in knowing your weaknesses so you could concentrate on your strengths. The truth, in Mary's case, was that she was both plain and poor—not marriage material at all.

She was, however, smart, dependable, and sturdy—a perfect schoolteacher. Growing up in a convent had taught Mary to face the truth and never lie, at least to herself and God. And Sister Hortensia—but never mind that little incident.

"What did you want to know?"

"What is there in this town that El Diablo wants?"

"Food and whiskey."

"It's more than that. If he was just a lazy son of a bitch—"

"Reese! Watch your language in front of Frank."

He glanced at the boy, who was on his fifteenth recitation. "Go," he snapped, and when the child hesitated, "Go, go, go." Reese flicked his hand at the door. Frank went—fast.

Mary contemplated Reese as he watched Frank run. The man dealt with children as if they were soldiers, and they listened. But he didn't seem to like them much at all, and she couldn't figure out why. What wasn't there to like about children?

"There's really no need to terrorize my students."

"No? Well, I'll have to stop. Getting back to El Diablo, if he was just lazy, then he'd also grab a few women while he was here, shoot a few men if he got the chance. He hasn't, and that worries me."

Mary gaped then snapped her mouth shut before Reese mentioned flies. "Worries you? We've got an outlaw who doesn't rape and murder at will and that's a bad thing?"

"It means he's trying to keep the law and the army out of Rock Creek, and I have to wonder why. Was there ever gold here?" She shook her head. "Silver?"

"No."

"Anything? Why is there a town here at all?"

"The stage. The town grew up because this was a major stage stop. There was some talk of the railroad coming through eventually. Though if we can't get the stage back, that won't happen, either."

"There has to be something else."

"If there is, I've never heard of it—" She broke off when he moved even closer and stared down at her intently. "Yes?"

"You smell like... like..." His face creased, and he leaned closer still, until the buttons on his vest nearly touched her nose. "Like rain." The wonder in his voice made her smile.

"I rinse my hair in rainwater." She ducked her head and blushed. "It's supposed to help tame the curls."

He leaned back, and his face creased more than ever. His big hand lightly touched the hair she'd wrestled into a straight, tight knot atop her head. "Why on earth would you want to do something like that?" He smoothed his palm over the crown of her head. "Mary."

When he used her first name, Mary's mouth fell open again. Hardly anyone called her that anymore—and no one said "Mary" quite like Reese. They stared at each other, the air thick with heat and heavy with the rasp of their breathing. Then thunder rumbled, once, sharp as lightning, and Reese whirled about.

"What was that?" she asked.

"A gunshot, damn it to hell."

Reese ran for the door. Mary was right on his heels.

* * *

The general store stood only a few buildings away from the schoolhouse, yet to Reese it seemed like a few miles. He could hear Mary trying to keep up, panting as her corset pressed on her ribs, making it hard for her to run and breathe at the same time. Women and their idiotic undergarments!

Though Reese should have waited for her to catch up, he didn't. Had one of his men shot one of the townsfolk, or had one of the townsfolk shot one of his men? Either way, there'd be trouble in Rock Creek. And when there was trouble, Reese was always the one who fixed it.

He slowed on the boardwalk. Waltzing into the store without knowing what was happening inside would be an excellent way to get his head blown off. He might not have much to live for, but he really didn't care to die that way.

Reese flattened himself against the outside wall, drew his gun, scowled at Mary, and waved her out of sight. Then he peeked into the store.

To find his men in the process of holding up Baxter Sutton. Hands raised, the storekeeper stood with his back against the wall as the men pawed through his selection of bullets. Reese should have known better than to leave them alone and armed among real people.

"Coming in," Reese called. Sometimes Cash got jumpy, and Nate was always shaky this time of the afternoon.

He started into the store. Mary followed so close her toes clipped the heels of his boots. Once inside, she maneuvered around him and planted her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're doing?"

The five men glanced at her, smirked, and glanced at Reese. He shrugged. They were on their own.

"I think it should be obvious," Cash drawled. "We're robbing Sutton."

"Why?"

"Seemed like the thing to do at the time."

"But there's no need."

"Perhaps not, but boys will be boys."

"Hmm." Voice calm, the only sign of her annoyance was the tap of her boot beneath the sweep of her skirt "Mr. Sutton, it was agreed that these men would be supplied with whatever they wished while they were here."

"That doesn't mean I have to give them whatever they want."

"That's exactly what it means."

"Who else has to give them stuff? They're living in a deserted hotel. Nobody's losing money over that."

"Everyone is taking turns feeding them. And I paid them. I don't have time to listen to any tales of poor little you. You'll benefit from the town coming back to life more than most, so do your part now. Give them whatever they want."

"And you!" She turned to the five men. "Put away those guns and that knife. Behave like human beings for a change."

"Or what?" Cash snapped.

Uh-oh,
Reese thought,
time to step in.
Cash had very little patience when it came to women of a certain type—good women, to be exact. His charm with saloon girls was legendary, but wave a decent lady in front of his face, and it was like waving red in front of a bull.

Reese stepped around Mary. "Miss McKendrick, what exactly do you think you're doing?"

She crossed her arms over her breasts, her stance considering rather than mulish, but that foot kept tapping. "Managing things, of course."

"These men being one of those things?"

"It's what I do best. Manage."

Jed snorted. Rico coughed. Cash's upper lip lifted like a cur's. Sullivan shrugged as Nate groaned and put a hand to his head. "Lord spare us from a good woman who manages things."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's not a curse; it's a gift."

"Right." Cash flipped his pretty gun back into its holster, grabbed two boxes of bullets, and stalked toward the door. Before he left, he turned and glared at Reese. "You'd better manage her or I'm leaving."

The other four mumbled and grumbled as they chose their ammunition and filed out. Since Sutton glared at her, Mary thought it prudent to leave too.

On the boardwalk she turned to Reese. "Can't you control your men?"

"They aren't mine."

"Of course they are. You're their leader."

"Only because"—his lips quirked in a wry half-smile—"one of the things
I
do best is manage. Not to mention that they're too lazy to lead."

Mary frowned. "That doesn't say much for their loyalty."

"Oh, they're loyal. It's one of the few things they have left."

"You'll have to do something about them walking around shooting off guns to get their way."

"But it works so well."

She rolled her eyes. Children with temper tantrums. Men with guns. "I'm sure it does, but such behavior is inappropriate."

"Tell
them
that."

"All right." She started toward the hotel but stopped when he reached for her. Even though his rough fingers only grazed her forearm, she felt his touch all over.

"Everyone else in town walks around us as if they're afraid we'll kill them for breathing. But you aren't afraid at all, are you?" His voice held the same wonder as when he'd said her hair smelled like rain.

She tried to see into his eyes, shadowed by the brim of his ever-present black hat, but she couldn't. "Should I be?"

"Hell, yes!" He dropped his hand from her arm, turned, and took a few steps down the boardwalk as if he couldn't stand to be near her.

"What good is being afraid? I'm alone in this world. No one's going to back me up, keep me safe, make my life into what I wish for it to be but me."

A deep breath raised, then lowered those broad shoulders. Still he didn't turn around. "And what do you wish for when you wish?"

That was easy. "A safe home. A job to keep me from going hungry or being bored. Friends."

"No husband? No children?"

"Look at me, Reese." He turned around but moved no closer. "Do I seem like marriage material to you?"

His gaze wandered from her head to her toes. When his eyes returned to hers, an odd glow had sprung up in their depths. "For the right man."

Mary was not the kind of woman who would drive a man mad with hunger, but still, when Reese stared at her with those strange green eyes, she felt as if she could be. Silly old maid.

Straightening her already ramrod-straight spine, she sniffed. "Perhaps. But I know better than to believe in miracles and to depend on anyone else but me."

He gave a slow nod, as if he agreed with her, then sauntered back and held out his arm. "You're a very interesting woman, Mary McKendrick."

"Interesting?" She took his arm; it was only polite, even though touching him made parts of her she'd never known she had quiver. "That's a new one."

"And far too trusting. You shouldn't trust me."

"No?" They walked along, side by side, and Mary's skirt twisted back and forth about her ankles, then danced across the toe of his boot "What kind of man tells a woman straight out not to trust him? A trustworthy one, I'd imagine."

"You don't know anything about men."

"True enough. I never saw a man, beyond a priest, until I was sixteen."

She felt him glance at her, but she kept peering straight ahead. "You're kidding."

"I doubt I'd kid about something like that."

He stopped in front of the church, glanced at the steeple then removed his arm from her grasp. "You shouldn't be allowed near me or the others."

She laughed, and his gaze dropped sharply from the steeple to her face. "Who's going to stop me?" When his eyes narrowed, she waved away his annoyance. "You came here to help us. You didn't have to. I'd say that makes you trustworthy."

"Maybe we came here to rape and pillage. You told me in Dallas that there was no one in Rock Creek who could stop El Diablo. That means there's no one to stop us, either—if we're of a mind."

"Men like you would hardly rape and pillage."

"Don't be so sure."

She tilted her head and considered Reese. He was such a strange, yet fascinating combination of rough and gentle, outlaw and honest man she wasn't sure what to do with him—as if she'd know what to do with any man.

"To be honest," she said, "when I saw you and the others riding in yesterday, I was scared. So was Jo. I wondered if I'd made a mistake."

"Smart."

"But I feel better about everything today."

"I'd think you'd feel worse after that display in Sutton's store."

"No. As Mr. Cash said, 'Boys will be boys,' especially when they're men." He gave her a narrow glare that made her smile. "Tell me this, Reese. If you were planning to rape and pillage, wouldn't you have done it already? Why wait around, take a chance of getting killed by El Diablo and the rest? Strike and run would be your motto, I'm thinking."

"Maybe we've decided to take whatever it is El Diablo wants—there must be something—so we need to get rid of him before we get rid of all of you. You must realize, Miss McKendrick, we don't usually work this cheap."

He had a point, and suddenly the peace she'd felt since the six had taken up residence at the hotel frayed a bit about the edges. She had no idea what these men were like. None at all. And she
shouldn't
trust them. Especially Reese—a man who'd kissed her the first day he'd come to town. He had to be half-crazy to do a thing like that.

Before she could get her thoughts in order for a better argument or more intelligent questions, the church bell tolled.

This time, Reese didn't bother to ask if there was church on Tuesday. "Inside," he snapped, shoving her toward the building.

"I can make it home." She whirled, but before she took two steps, Reese cursed, picked her up, and hoisted her over his back. All her arguments whooshed out of her mouth when her stomach hit his rock-solid shoulder.

"Manage this," he muttered, and kicked open the door.

The world whirled, and everything came at her upside down. She heard Reverend Clancy sputter helplessly as he ran toward them. One growl from Reese and Clancy's footsteps receded.

Other, lighter footsteps approached, and when Reese dumped Mary onto her feet in the aisle, Jo caught her before she fell on her face. Mary swayed, and her eyes crossed.

"Stay," he ordered.

Thinking she might be ill, right there in front of God and everyone, Mary merely nodded.