The Trailrider's Fortune (11 page)

Rafe gave a caustic
laugh. The ice queen was bein' stubborn again. Plumb asinine, too, if she
didn't know she was playing with fire by this time.
Shouldn't have let her
know you're so sensitive about that scar. Shouldn't have been such a gentleman
with her before. Now she thinks she can control you. Frustrate the hell out of
you, and you'll just take it.

Well, he wasn't
taking crap tonight. Not from anybody. Least of all from Sparkle
La-Goddamned-Fleur.

He reached down and
pulled his Colt, raising it slowly until the muzzle touched the point of her
chin. "I'll pay for the dress, but I already paid for you." No drawl.
Just harsh words bitten off crisp and clear. "Unlock the door."

"Or what?
You'll shoot me?"

Brenda had come up
with a customer. She burst into hysterics at the sight of Rafe holding his gun
to Sparkle's chin. "Oh, my God!
Frazer
! Somebody get Frazer up
here. He's going to kill Sparkle!
Fra-zerr
!"

The customer took
one look at the pistol and left Brenda screaming in his wake. Frazer appeared
seconds later and stepped in front of Brenda. The Winchester from behind the
long bar was now leveled at Rafe.

"Put it away,
Conley. You and your missus got an argument, take her outside and settle it.
Don't want trouble in my place."

Sparkle's heart
pounded in stark fear. She'd been perfectly safe until Frazer showed up, but
now the situation was out of control. Rafe never would have hurt her, she was
certain of that. He'd meant to force his will on her, frighten her. But now
that a man stood pointing a weapon at him, everything had changed. You didn't
face down a man like Rafe. No one so cavalier about his own demise could be
intimidated. But he could be provoked into unleashing his lethal nature on
those around him. Something she'd prayed never to witness.

Matters weren't
improved by Deputy Thompson appearing out of thin air to point a shotgun at
Rafe's chest. "Conley, I don't want to take you in, but—"

Sparkle broke in,
"It's all right, Art. He won't hurt anyone. We play a sort of parlor game
sometimes. I'm the outlaw; he has to bring me in." She thrust her wrists
together toward Rafe. "Come on, honey, tie me up."

Frazer lowered his
weapon. "Wipe my ass with a busted shingle! Sparkle likin' it rough.
Kee-rist! Last cursed female I'd figure for them 'parlor games,' but I've heard
stranger tales."

"You're sure
there's no problem?" Art said, trying not to look directly at Sparkle. The
flushed, peculiar expression on his face reminded Sparkle that now all three
men were being treated to the sight of her bare bosom.

She felt her own
cheeks flame in response. "It's all right. We're fine."

Rafe slipped his
peacemaker back into its holster as he pressed himself against Sparkle,
shielding her from view. "No problem, Art. Ain't figurin' to shoot nobody,
least of all my lady here." He voice softened and his eyes melted over
hers.

The room key
magically appeared in Rafe's palm. He had no idea where it came from, but he
unlocked the door and pushed Sparkle into the dark room, turning back to the
other men.

"She got a
mite upset with me, and I wanted to set her right. Little harmless fun down at
the poker table, all it was." Rafe knew Frazer had witnessed the scene
with the redhead. "She ain't been entertainin' gents, has she, Frazer?
Could be she's so quick to take on all jealous cause she's been busy herself.
Swore you'd keep an eye on my wife while I was away. But I see now there's
another way up here."

Art Thompson's face
and neck flushed even darker as he cleared his throat. "There's a flight
of steps on the outside of the balcony. The windows don't lock in the monkey
hall rooms. Couple fellas came running over babbling that you'd gone crazy.
Figured I'd better calm things down. Didn't know you and Sparkle were married,
but I know this barkeep's no match for you—"

"I'd recollect
those words—" Rafe squinted at Sparkle's boss. "Next time you feel
inclined to pull a weapon. Don't give many second chances."

He entered her room
to find Sparkle had taken off the torn dress. She wore a pale yellow robe
covering every inch from her chin to her bare feet. In the dim lamplight, she
looked all of about fourteen, pure as the driven snow. But also mad as a peeled
rattler. She crammed some folded things into a valise.

"What the hell
do you think you're doin'?"

She sighed without
turning to look at him. "This job's been sour ever since Frazer took over.
Thanks to tonight's little exhibition, it's time to move on again. Maybe
Ellsworth."

Dammit, she
couldn't take off. Well, she could, but he didn't want her to. "He'll
forgot the uproar in a day or two."

"You think so?
Will Art Thompson forget it, too? And the other girls? I should have let the
deputy cart you off to jail."

"Reckon that's
what I would've done," Rafe surprised them both by admitting. "Sorry
I frightened you."

"You
didn't." She stopped packing and turned to face him. "I'm not afraid
of you. I know everyone else is. They probably have good reason to be."

"But you
don't." She continued folding clothes. Rafe eased onto the edge of her
bed, trying to change her mood. He sensed she was listening, despite her
feigned air of indifference.

"You know,
you’re a pretty resourceful gal. That 'parlor game' bit was downright
clever." No response. Just more packing. "I feel bad about rippin'
your dress and them seein' you like that. Hell, feel bad
I
saw you like
that. Not that you ain't the prettiest gal in town, but…" He realized he
was only getting in deeper. "Admire your spunk. Thought you should know
that."

"Spunk? Try
stupidity."

"You ain't
stupid, Sparkle. You're one of the smartest people I ever met. You can do
somethin' even college professors and politicians or educated folks can't. They
can't see the future."

She snorted.
"Right now I'd say my own's sketchy, at best. I'm not going back to
Topeka, that's for sure."

"What's wrong
with Topeka?"

"I used to
work in a saloon there. A madam ran it. She wanted a special friendship. I
didn't. I like men."

"You ain't
gotta move on, Sparkle. Don't want you leavin' on my account."

"Then how
about you leaving on mine? You said everything this morning. Eloquently. I'm
not going to tell you anything about this Mr. Stan Brockman, so there's no—"

"Dan," he
corrected softly. "Dan Hoffman."

"Whatever. I'm
not going to help you hunt people down like wolves, so you can either shoot
them or be shot by them. I'm not paying for another stupid bundle of red trash
or listening to more of Benton Frazer's insults. And I'm not going to wear this
stupid wedding ring, or pretend I give a damn about some stupid gunslinger—ugh!"
She'd been trying to jerk the ring off her finger, but it didn't want to budge.

She abruptly burst
into tears. Rafe thought by rights she should have been crying before now, out
in the hallway. Having some maniac rip her dress, then threaten to either shoot
or rape her. That maniac wasn't feeling so bold and snarly any more. His
stinging pride had quit smarting, until he was actually feeling pretty damned
penitent. He also couldn't think of what to say. He'd give five hundred dollars
for a line of flowery gibberish, but none came to mind. He settled on a mild
observation. "You sure do say 'stupid' a lot when you're riled."

"Oh,
hell."

A sudden thought
dawned, something that might appease her. "Darlin', you got ladies
countin' on you to tell their fortunes, friends who care about you here. Even
Frazer. He likes you, or he never would've let you stay on. The second my sorry
ass disappeared down the street, he'd have tossed you back out again if he
didn't like you. It's damned near impossible for a man
not
to like
you."

"You don't.
You said some pretty horrible things to me this morning."

"I'm a
horrible person. Just ask anybody. Stands to reason I'd say horrible things,
don't it?"

Sparkle gave him a
look of reproach. "You're funning me, Rafe Conley."

"Only a
little." His eyes held hers. "I
do
like you. Call you darlin',
don't I? Don't even call my horse that."

She sighed, unable
to completely suppress a smile at his teasing. "The problem is that I like
you, too. And I shouldn't. I don't even want to."

"See, even
you
think I'm a horrible person." Her fist whacked his wounded upper arm.
"Hey, that hurt!"

Her eyes were
defiant once more. "Then we're even. You hurt my feelings this morning and
humiliated me in front of everyone downstairs tonight. Tomorrow every employee
in this place will be asking what you did while we played 'outlaw' up here."
She dropped her gaze to the floor.

"Only if you
let me stay," he pointed out.

Her gaze came back
up. "I should have let Frazer shoot you."

She was damned
irresistible when she got going with her tough act. Rafe pulled her onto his
lap, wrapping one arm around her waist. "Already been shot once in this
town, but if you truly feel I got it comin'…"

"Oh, let me up
and stop trying to be funny," she groused.

A callused hand
stroked her hair. "Nope. Hushin' up usually suits me fine, but I want to
tell you somethin'…about how I got shot."

"I know how
you were shot. By a horse-thief, brandishing a gun."

He ignored her
sarcasm. "I got shot because you weren't around and I needed you."

"What?"
she searched his face.

"I needed…
this
.
I needed to talk to you, spend some time with you. I hadn't seen you in so
long. I knew I could sleep here in your bed, everybody reckonin' you're my
wife. But the other gals looked at me sort of funny, like meat on the hoof."

He stopped and
swallowed. "I was only foolin' downstairs before, Sparkle. I was feelin'
ornery. Red-haired gal didn't mean nothin' to me. Maybe just tryin' to prove
somethin'. Dumb."

"What does
that have to do with the shooting?"

"I visited one
of the other saloons, and…I went upstairs with a gal there."

"How
nice." She struggled to get off his lap. "I really don't need to hear
this. I need to finish packing my things."

"Will you just
shut up a minute and let me finish?" He dropped his voice. Damn, it was
hard getting this part out. "She was fine until my shirt came off. I
promised the scar wouldn't rub off on her. She said problem was I'd be rubbin'
it all over her." He closed his eyes. "Looked at me like I was some
monstrosity. So I left there and…went lookin' for someone to bring in." He
opened his eyes again. "Nobody dares look at me like I'm some freak when I
got my peacemaker out. I get respect then, by God."

"Oh,
Rafe." Sparkle reached for his hand and entwined their fingers.

"Damned fool
Nebraskan, out to get his head blown off. Just like you said. But a big man,
all the same. Not some plug-ugly a woman won't let near her."

Sparkle had been
ready to leave town that very night. She'd decided to let him speak his peace,
then ask him to see her to the depot. Say her farewells to Ruby Ann and Brenda,
give back the wedding band, set off to make a fresh start in yet another cow
town. She'd never expected this story, or the tenderness it inspired. She slid
her free arm up around his neck and spoke gently.

"You don't
need to prove you're a man. Deep down, you know you don't have to prove
anything, don't you?"

He released her
fingers. "Knowin' it and livin' it are two different things."

She said nothing
for a long moment, then rested her hand on the front of his shirt, silently
willing the scar and everything beneath it to heal.

Rafe instantly both
stiffened and relaxed. His muscles went rigid beneath her fingertips, yet he
closed his eyes and let a small sigh escape his lips. Sparkle had never seen
anyone react in quite that way. He seemed to both welcome and deplore her
gesture. "I'm sorry." She drew her palm away. "Does that
distress you?"

Rafe's eyes were
still closed. He groped for her hand and put it back against his chest.
"Naw, it's just that for a long time now, I thought no gal would ever want
to touch me like that. Especially not one who knows." He hadn't opened his
eyes. "You are touchin' me right over it? Can't always be sure about what
I feel there."

"Yes, I am.
Can you feel this?" She turned her face and leaned closer, pressing her
lips to his. They'd kissed several times, but he'd always initiated contact.
This time she kissed him, and his response was immediate. Both arms wrapped
around her waist and he pulled her back with him onto the mattress. He groaned
as his mouth and tongue took total possession of hers.

His hand slid along
her ribcage to cup one breast. The nipple puckered under his rough palm.
Sparkle had nothing beneath the thin cotton robe. If he undid the buttons, he
could have her naked in half a second.