Under a Texas Star (28 page)

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Authors: Alison Bruce

BOOK: Under a Texas Star
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After waiting a half hour, she strolled into the post office. She moved with the deportment of a lady and the composure of a Texas Ranger.

Ignoring a couple of waiting customers, she made her way to the counter. "You have a package for Marly Landers?"

The postmaster looked up from sorting mail. "Yes, ma'am." He glanced over her shoulder. "That gentleman over there has been asking for the same package."

She peeked at a man seated on a bench, staring at his dusty boots.

It was Charlie.

Why had she thought he was so special? He was of average height and build, with average features. Nothing special about him.

Except he could charm a rattlesnake right out of its skin.

She eyed the postmaster. "He might be looking for it, but he's not Marly Landers. I am." She pushed a sheet of paper across the counter.

The postmaster nodded. "The package is yours."

Aware that Charlie was now standing behind her, she signed for the package, tucked it under her arm and left the office, with only a bare acknowledgement of Charlie's presence.

As expected, he followed her outside.

On the sidewalk, Charlie took her elbow and guided her away from the small crowd waiting for their mail.

"I'm glad you decided to meet me," he said, his tone dulcet.

"You didn't give me much choice."

"When did you get to town? How did you get here?" There was an edge to the questions. "You weren't on the stage. I've been watching for you."

She jerked her arm away. "Don't pretend you care about anything but the money. I give you this," she held up the parcel, "and you'll be gone."

He gave her a smoldering gaze and matching smile.

Now she remembered what had attracted her. It was that focused attention, that feeling of being desired above all else.

"We're attracting attention," she said.

Passersby stared, but gave them a wide berth. No one interfered in what seemed to be a lovers' quarrel.

"Let them look," Charlie said with arrogance.

"There's a Texas Ranger after you."

"I know, angel." He put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll tell you what, you hold onto that money until we're married in Mexico. We'll leave town right away. Can you get a horse?"

"Yeah."

"Good girl. Meet me at Kirby's Livery in an hour. It's near the Alhambra. And don't forget to bring the money." As he spoke, he closed the gap between them.

"Yes, we can't forget that," she said.

"The money is so we can make a life together." Touching her shoulders, he gazed into her eyes. "It's always been about you and me, angel. Believe it."

When he smoothed his hands down her arms, she shivered.

An hour later, Marly approached the livery with caution, half expecting an ambush. Portia waited nearby as one of Kirby's stable boys saddled her. Charlie's horse stood ready.

She handed the stunned stable boy a dime. "Go."

"Yes, Miss."

"All set, angel?"

Charlie strode up to her. He was carrying a carpetbag.

"I have a horse," she said. "That's all. I don't even have a change of clothes."

"We'll buy what we need across the border." He patted his carpet bag. "Between us, we have plenty of money to live in the lap of luxury for years."

Marly went to her saddle and checked the cinches. "So who else did you steal from, Charlie?"

Charlie turned, his face set in a practiced expression of gentle indignation. It wavered a bit when he saw the Winchester carbine pointing at him.

"Angel, don't be silly. What I have will be yours once we're married. Besides, you can't go back and you can't make it on your own without me."

"I made it this far. Unbuckle your gun belt, please." She cocked the rifle for emphasis.

"Sweetheart, what is this? Did you think I ran off on you?" His tone was wheedling, but he unbuckled his gun belt and held it out. "I would have taken you with me if I thought it was safe."

She gritted her teeth to keep from blowing his kneecap off.

"Put it down and stand back."

He dropped the gun belt and took two steps back, then another two when she urged him with her carbine.

She reached for his belt, but her skirt got in the way. When she straightened, Charlie had Derringer two-shot in his hand. As he cocked it, she raised her rifle.

A shot rang out.

Charlie dropped the gun and clutched his wrist. "Damn!"

"Never split your attention when you're coverin' someone, Marly." Jase stepped out into the open. "Wanna cuff him?"

He made an underhand toss and she caught the handcuffs.

Without crossing Jase's line of sight, she went to Charlie, yanked his hands behind his back and secured them.

"Jesus, angel. Do you have to be so rough?"

"It's just a nick, Charlie. You'll live."

"Charlie Meese," Jase said, "you are under arrest for extortion and fraud. I have a warrant from
Austin
, but I also have an extradition request from Kansas for a variety of charges, includin' kidnappin'."

"Kidnapping!" Marly blurted. "Who…?"

"I think you might beat that charge," Jase continued, "seein' as Miss Marly was trackin' you, not unwillingly travellin' with you. I doubt you'll talk your way out of the rest." He glanced over his shoulder. "Marshal?"

Crowley appeared, followed by one of his deputies.

"Mind putting this fellow up for me, Marshal?"

"It'll be my pleasure, Ranger Strachan."

Marly flicked a look at Jase and her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You wired Cherryville when we got here?"

"Not exactly. I wired Cherryville from Fortuna."

"And I brought the extradition order out personally," a voice said from the shadows.

A tall, imposing man stepped forward.

"Sheriff Langtree?" Marly's eyes widened in dread. "You didn't bring Aunt Adele, did you?"

He shook his head. "No, ma'am."

When Jase took the carbine out of her hands, she rushed toward Langtree. For a moment, he stared at her, holding her hands. Then he pulled her into a close embrace.

"Dammit, Marly," he said in a shaky voice, "why didn't you come to me? Did you think I would believe what Adele said? Or that Meese character? Did you think Doc or his Missus would?"

Marly stared up at him, her eyes bright with tears. She felt every bit as shaky as he sounded, but her voice was steady.

"Aunt Adele told me that I was ruined. She said that no one would ever marry me now and the only other respectable profession for me was being a missionary." She gazed down at the ground and shuffled her feet. "So she sent me away."

Langtree tipped her face so their eyes met. "Adele is a wicked fool."

 

Watching the scene between Marly and Sheriff Langtree play out, Jase had to agree with the man's sentiment. Marly's aunt was a damned fool. And it could have cost Marly's life.

Jase cleared his throat. "Your aunt certainly is a fool if she thinks Marly Landers is cut out for mission work."

Marly laughed and Langtree let her go.

Jase tried not to heave a sigh of relief. This jealousy thing was getting out of hand. It wasn't the ideal time or place for declaring himself, but if that's what it would take to keep Marly, he'd do it.

"The doc thinks you'd make a good nurse," Langtree said. "I always thought it a shame I couldn't make you my deputy."

Jase secretly gloated as a grin spread across Marly's face.

"Sorry, sir, but I've found another callin'," she drawled.

She pulled back the front of her dress jacket. Pinned to the high-neck blouse was the tin star of the Texas Rangers.

Over the next hour, the money from Cherryville was examined, recorded, counted and put into the marshal's strongbox pending Langtree's departure. A large chunk of the money extorted from the
Austin
businessmen had been spent, but the remainder was taken to the local branch of an
Austin
bank, less the ten percent reward.

That was presented to Marly.

"You earned it," Jase told her when she started to refuse. "And don't try givin' it to me as payback. You don't owe me
anythin'."

"I owe you a lot. But I won't try paying you back with this."

The party moved from the Marshal's Office to the Crowley home. Langtree and Sarge―as Marly continued to call Crowley―shared stories about her growing up, with the subject of these tal
es either embellishing or denying the tales.

Eventually, Mrs. Crowley told her guests to go home.

"Some people," she said with a smile, "need to rest."

"I'll walk out with you, Langtree," Crowley said. "Wait until I get my coat. I'll see you tomorrow, Strachan. Unless you want to join us?"

Jase shook his head. He wanted the opportunity to have Marly alone for a few minutes.

He motioned her to join him on the porch.

"Marly…can I take you to lunch tomorrow?"

"Just us?"

"Just us."

She nodded.

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He would have done more, but Langtree stepped outside.

"Excuse me, Strachan. I'd like a word with Marly before I go, if you don't mind."

Jase did mind, but he said good night and strolled toward the gate, thinking of his date with Marly. At the gate, he gave in to his curiosity and glanced back.

Langtree and Marly were standing very close. Then they parted and Marly returned to the house.

He walked back to the El Hombre, thinking about the day's events. He thought about Marly's relationship with Meese, as ill-fated as it was. She'd obviously seen something attractive in the man. Then there was good old Sarge. Crowley, he corrected. And Sheriff Langtree.

Marly seemed to have a collection of admirers. It made Jase wonder where he fit in.

He slumped into a chair at a table in the back.

"Where's the chico?" Pequeño asked.

Jase gave him a look that would have made a lesser man quake. Pequeño was not a lesser man, but he did shut up.

Later, he returned with a whisky bottle and two glasses.

 

Morning brought Jase sobriety, a splitting headache and a dose of common sense. With a renewed sense of purpose, he took off to the public washhouse and paid for a bath, a shave and a haircut. The attendant said he looked clean enough already, but took his money.

At twelve o'clock precisely, Jase arrived at the Crowley place wearing his best trousers and the red pinstriped shirt Marly had picked out for him in Fortuna.

Mrs. Crowley answered the door and ushered him into the front room. "Marly will be a few minutes."

Restless, he wandered the room, stopping to admire the daguerreotype of Frank and Jeannie Crowley on their wedding day.

"Marly's been playing with the children all morning," Mrs. Crowley said. "That's why she's running a bit late."

"It's kind of you to entertain me in the meantime, ma'am," he replied feeling a bit awkward.

"I would like to have a word with you about her, if you don't mind."

He didn't imagine he had much choice.

"Ranger Strachan," she started as he sat down on the settle.

From her tone, Jase knew he was going to get a lecture. He was surprised when she skipped the past and went straight to the future.

"Frank and I would be happy to keep Marly with us. I think we could both grow to love her as a daughter. Well, as you probably know, Frank thinks of her that way already."

"I know."

"I don't like to speak ill of anyone," the woman said in a hesitant tone, "but I don't think it would be wise to send her back to her aunt. I understand that the doctor in Cherryville would be willing to send her to school to become a nurse. I'm not sure that is what Marly wants. The point is, I want you to know that she has choices. She's not alone in the world."

"I understand, ma'am. But I think Marly's the one you should talk to about this. It's up to her to decide what she wants to do. It ain't
―it
isn't
my place to say."

Mrs. Crowley sighed and gave him a look he suspected she often gave one of her wayward children. "Ranger Strachan―"

"Jase!"

Marly entered the room, a wide smile across her face. She wore the brown riding skirt, this time with a
blue and white striped blouse. Instead of braids, her auburn hair was pulled back and tied with a broad blue ribbon that matched her blouse. The bow was lopsided.

Jase grinned. "Come here, brat."

He tied the bow and arrayed the ribbon neatly against her hair. He had never noticed how curly her hair was. A tiny ringlet twisted around his finger as he smoothed the ribbon.

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