Rebel with a Cause Read online

Page 12


  "You can see forever, just grass and flowers," she said.

  Zane slid off Ace's back then lifted her down.

  "Wouldn't it be something to be Muff and look at everything blossom-high?" she added.

  At the sound of his name, the dog poked his head out from under the flap of the saddlebag.

  "Come on, you little scamp." She lifted him from the pack and nuzzled her nose in his fur. "How long have we got?"

  "An hour, maybe less."

  Missy took her writing supplies out of the saddlebag while Zane led Ace to the creek for a drink. Coming back, he spotted Missy a dozen yards away sitting in a circle of flowers with her head bent over her journal.

  Posies of every hue dotted the landscape as far as he could see. How had he failed to notice them until Missy pointed them out? Maybe he'd become hardened over the years, riding the rough land and no longer seeing the beauty before his eyes.

  A yellow butterfly tested the feather on Missy's hat then spiraled up and away when Muff lunged for its colorful wings. The pint-sized dog bounded in and out of the grass, the red bow in his fur appearing and disappearing while he stalked a bug.

  Zane sat down, lounging against a cottonwood growing beside the stream. Ace nibbled weeds several yards off. Ordinarily, an hour rest stop would be the time to get a little shut-eye, but he couldn't take his gaze off the scene spread in front of him.

  Missy looked up, studying the clouds scurrying across the sky. She tipped her head this way and that then returned her attention to her journal. She dipped her pen in the ink bottle then wrote swiftly across the page. Once or twice she looked at him and smiled.

  The woman had a way of seeing past ordinary and looking at beauty. That was fine, as long as a person didn't forget that snakes hid amid the grass and flowers.

  Snakes also hid in a friendly smile. They slithered about in good-intentioned lies. His lie about Missy being his wife had been necessary to keep her out of harm's way but he didn't care for being dishonest. A man always paid the consequence for telling a lie.

  This necessary lie would have Missy seeing romance and happy endings where there were none.

  Missy set her writing tools aside then removed her hat. She plucked the pins from her hair and let the tresses fall to her waist in sunny waves. With a yip and a leap, the pup bounded out of the grass, bit a curl then yanked her down onto the turf. She rolled to her belly laughing and wrestling with the dog.

  Even if romance lurked somewhere in his soul, it would be crushed in a heartbeat when Missy discovered his biggest deception. A happy ending would not be possible for this lonely bounty hunter.

  At the time, his action had seemed reasonable. Any sane person would have done the same. This morning in the marshal's office, with Willie Sue sweating all over the poster of Missy, he had known there could be no other choice.

  Damnation, but everything was a muddle now. He couldn't take back the wire that he had dispatched to Edwin Devlin, revealing that Missy would be at the Hotel in Dewton for the next week and telling her brother where he could deposit the reward when he recovered her.

  If he was honest with Missy and told her about the wire to Edwin, she would run off. Then it would be only a matter of time before she fell into the hands of another man like Willie Sue.

  So far, she hadn't asked a single question about what had happened with Willie Sue and that worried him. Missy normally had questions about everything.

  Zane stood up, slowly flicking a blade of grass off his pants. It was time to face her with some sort of story. He'd bet the reward for Wage that she didn't notice that he was the snake in the grass.

  Walking forward, he felt the serpent twisting in his belly. He crouched in front of her with it choking the life out of his conscience.

  Missy sat up and scooted Muff toward a dragonfly buzzing about a blade of grass.

  "You must have a million questions about what happened this morning."

  "A million and one." The breeze picked up a strand of Missy's hair and blew it across her face. "Who was that man? Did you know him? Where are we going and are you leaving me there?"

  She plucked a blue flower growing near her knee and twined the stem in the hair behind his ear. "Why did you call me your wife? Was that a proposal? If it was I would like to know about your ribbon."

  "It damn sure wasn't a proposal." Something about her smile unsettled him. "Darlin', a bounty hunter's life isn't fit for a wife. The ribbon is no one's business but mine."

  "Have you ever thought of becoming a lawman in some quiet little town?" She plucked another blue flower and tucked it behind her own ear, then stretched out with her belly on the grass and her chin in her palm. "They say that the marshal in Dewton is retiring."

  That very thought had smacked him square in the brain as soon as the marshal had mentioned his intent, but he had swatted it out before it had a chance to settle.

  Apparently this was a conversation that was going to last for some time so he flopped, stomach-first, on the ground, eye-to-eye with Missy.

  "The man in the general store was a bounty hunter named Willie Sue." A little of the truth wouldn't give anything away. "I guess he was just looking for a good time in a way that low-life men do. When I spotted him through the window, looking like a randy old goat, telling him that you were my wife seemed the quickest way out of the situation."

  "I could have been your sister."

  Hell and damnation, that ought to have been the first lie to pop into his mind.

  "Here's the thing, since I can't leave you anywhere without you getting into trouble, I'm going to have to keep you with me."

  With a frown she snatched the flower from his hair. "How on earth have I gotten through my life without you to carry me away on your big bold horse?"

  "That thought has crossed my mind a time or...four."

  "Just because you seem to happen upon me at inconvenient moments doesn't mean that I can't handle difficult situations on my own."

  "You talking about the cow, the flood, the brawl or Willie Sue?"

  Missy flicked the blue posy at him but she was smiling again. "My sister and I have had more experience getting out of situations than you can imagine. Besides, don't tell me you've never needed help getting out of a fix?"

  He laughed out loud and felt the joy of it to his toes. When was the last time he had done that? When he'd first encountered Missy, bold as brass in her underwear, he had laughed to his bones, but before that, he could hardly remember.

  All of a sudden he realized that the carpet of flowers growing about them not only looked pretty but they smelled like an hour in heaven.

  "I might agree to stay with you." She tilted her head with her lips pursed and her eyes picking the blue out of the sky. "So long as you understand that we will be partners and have equal say in how we catch Wage."

  "You will do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it." Missy Devlin might be the death of him, imagining that she knew how to track and capture an outlaw. He had devoted his life to the calling and it was still a difficult job.

  "Obedience is not my strongest trait, Edwin swears it."

  He might like to meet Edwin Devlin and find out if the young man's hair had turned gray under the pressure of being the guardian to such a sister.

  "Promise me you will work on it," he said with a sigh.

  "Naturally, I will consider each and every thing you advise me to do, as long as it's reasonable. And as long as you promise me that you won't pull any sneaky tricks to leave me behind."

  Snakes. The telegram he had posted earlier in the day slithered across his mind.

  To Edwin Devlin, in response to the reward for Missy Lenore Devlin. I have secured your sister's safety in the town of Dewton, Nebraska, and paid for her...

  "You're thinking up a way to get rid of me right now, aren't you?" Her eyes narrowed in accusation.

  "It hasn't worked so far. I'm out of ideas by now."

  Muff trotted between them with a butterfly proudly
clamped in his mouth.

  "If you do get an idea, do you vow to ignore it?"

  A man with any sense would think of a thousand ideas and act on every one of them. Any woman who wore a harlot's hat with a buttoned-to-the-chin gingham dress was sure to draw attention. Sneaking up on Wesley Wage would be a problem.

  "I promise that I won't do anything to try and get rid of you." A hummingbird flashed by overhead. The whir of its wings hissed in his ear.

  "And we share Wage's reward, half for you and half for me."

  A crazy man might agree to that. "A tenth for you and nine-tenths for me."

  "I counter offer at forty-sixty."

  "You counter offer?" His ears had to be playing tricks. He was going to extremes to protect the woman and she was bargaining over it?

  "I'll be a bigger help than you might think."

  At this point he was only hoping for not much trouble.

  "Make it twenty-eighty and we have a bargain, darlin'."

  "A bargain is not binding unless it's sealed with a kiss." She licked her lips then puckered them up.

  "Or a handshake."

  Missy shook his offered hand but then she kissed her fingertips and touched them to his lips.

  What kind of a devil got into him to make him taste her ink-stained fingers?

  * * *

  Missy sat upon Ace's broad back on a knoll above the peaceful-looking town of Legacy Creek. She gazed down at Zane, crouched in the dirt with his elbows braced on his knees and his hat gripped tight in both fists. He stared at the town. Noon sunshine brushed a sparkle of blue in his hair.

  That was the only thing sparkling about the man today.

  All through the night he had seemed distant. Even though they had shared a blanket for warmth, Zane had withdrawn into himself. For all the heat he generated she might as well have been snuggled up to a wooden plank.

  By dawn he had given up civil conversation for nods and grunts. He hadn't sat behind her on his horse today, but instead, walked beside with his hat yanked low over his forehead.

  "Waiting here like a slug in the sunshine won't get the job done," he mumbled at last, then slapped his hat on his knee.

  Missy didn't comment on the puzzling remark even though curiosity over his strange mood made her insides itch.

  "The devil take it, then," he said out loud and straightened up. He shoved his hat on his head and mounted behind her in one leap.

  "The devil take what?" She turned in the saddle and looked up at his face. The shadow of the hat brim couldn't hide the bleak expression in his eyes. "I hope you don't mean me, we made a bargain."

  "It's not you, darlin'. Our bargain stands." Zane tipped her face up. His calloused finger felt rugged under her chin. The brim of his hat touched her forehead an instant before his mouth touched her lips. "There now, it's sealed with a kiss."

  "What is it, then?" she asked, a little breathless. That quick show of tenderness nearly melted her off the horse. If Zane hadn't seemed troubled to his soul, she would have pressed for another kiss, one that would singe the ends of her hair.

  "I've got business in Legacy Creek, and I wish I didn't." He lifted the reins from her fingers then urged Ace down the knoll. "I'm leaving you at the livery and I want you to stay put."

  "Why the livery? Liberty Creek seems like a lovely little town."

  "If we are going to be keeping company for a while, we'll need another horse."

  "That is sensible." Sensible but disappointing.

  She didn't even need to lean back to feel the shift of his thighs against her backside. The cramped quarters over the miles had made it a constant condition.

  The livery turned out to be the first building, just outside of the town proper. A short distance beyond, Missy spotted a bakery and a general store.

  "I'll get us something nice from the bakery while you take care of the horse." It seemed a more pleasant place to wait than a smelly stable.

  Zane slipped backward off Ace and landed on the dirt with a solid thump. He reached for Missy and helped her down.

  "Look, I'm collecting a bounty." He pressed her shoulders with a firm grip and gave her a stern look, a reminder that he was the one in charge. "I need to know exactly where you are and that you will be ready to ride in a hurry. Keep Muff close at hand."

  "Suzie might hop right out of her chair if I wrote about an actual bounty collection. That's one adventure I would like to witness."

  "You wouldn't like it." He shook his head and led Ace inside the dimly lighted livery. "I'll tell you all about it later if you really have to know, but please, Missy, don't set a foot outside of this door."

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, that "please" kept Missy inside the livery like a butterfly stuck in a spider web.

  From the open door she watched Zane walk up the middle of the main street of Legacy Creek, his posture erect. He carried his hands loosely at his sides, within easy reach of his gun, Missy noted.

  He seemed to know where he was going and, clearly, had no wish to go there.

  Bounty-hunting, she believed, was not a job that Zane truly enjoyed.

  She stared up the street for five long minutes after Zane walked out of sight. A dust devil whirled down the center of the road and nicked the side of the livery with pebbles. When it seemed that nothing thrilling was about to happen, she turned her attention to her new horse.

  The pretty cinnamon-colored mare would be pleased to know that her rental days were over. Zane had purchased the horse not as a gift, he'd assured her, but an advance on her portion of the reward for Wesley Wage.

  "Hello, pretty girl." She stroked the white flower pattern between the horse's eyes. "What should we call her, Muff?"

  Muff growled at something rustling in a pile of hay.

  "Mouse?" Missy touched the smooth leather of the used saddle that came with the horse. Her writing supplies were already tucked in a pack along with a towel stuffed into a pouch for Muff to ride in. "I prefer Daisy."

  "Around here we call her Big Muddy," a voice coming from the far corner of the barn said. The owner of the stable hung a harness on a wall peg then turned to look at Missy. "She's one to loll about in the mud when she gets the chance."

  "Well then, my horse and my dog are of like minds." She glanced at Muff, happily gathering bits of hay in his fur while pouncing after the rodent hiding inside the heap.

  "That's the funniest-looking mongrel I've ever seen," the man said then turned his attention back to his work. At least he hadn't called Muff a rat.

  A cloud must have passed over the sun for the light in the stable dimmed. Daisy's cinnamon coat smoothed to chocolate.

  Compared to Ace, Daisy was short. Compared to Edwin's race horse, she was plump. It was easy to imagine the horse as a mud-roller.

  Picturing Daisy in the same stable as her brother's pampered, high-strung animal brought Missy up short. She wouldn't fit in at all. Daisy was a creature of the West. Try as she might, Missy could not picture the sturdy little animal stabled beside the thoroughbred.

  Hadn't Missy felt that very difference most of her life? She and Suzie had been a pair of wild flowers stuffed in a bouquet of stiff and proper roses. When the time came to return home, she wasn't sure that she could abide by the restrictions that proper society imposed. Everything would seem small. Life would be pale.

  Worse than anything, Zane would be half a continent away.

  "I have to go home sometime...there's Suzie. Mother and Edwin have their own full lives, but my sister is stuck in that chair." She pressed her forehead to Daisy's velvety muzzle. The horse's whicker blew warm, moist air on Missy's neck.

  "Zane and I are meant to be," she whispered. "I feel it bone-deep. But Daisy, I can't picture him as a gentleman any more than I can see you in my brother's stable."

  Muff yipped then vanished into the pile of hay. Outside a woman screamed.

  Missy rushed to the open door with the stable owner fast behind her.

  Several buildings u
p the street, a crowd had gathered with Zane at the center of it. He dragged a boy who didn't look more than seventeen toward the marshal's office. The group swelled to about fifteen and seemed increasingly unhappy.

  A distraught-looking woman screamed obscenities at Zane. She picked up fresh horse dung from the road and flung it at his back.

  "Rot in hell, bounty hunter!" a man's voice from the rear of the crowd called.

  "You can't take a widow's only son!" a screeching voice shouted.

  The widow clung to the back of Zane's coat while he pushed the young man up the stairs ahead of him.

  Zane's face, viewed in profile, seemed to be made of stone. Missy had never seen a face so void of expression. If the hysterical woman clawing at his back gave him pause, it didn't show in the determined set of his jaw or his stiffened posture. He might have been outside of the drama for all that he gave away of his emotions.

  "Damned bounty hunter." The livery keeper spat in Zane's direction. "Never would have sold him the Muddy had I known."

  Missy glanced over her shoulder to see the man's face flushed with anger.

  "I saw him save a baby's life, even though he might have lost his own," she said.

  "Why can't he leave a poor widow in peace?" He spat again. Missy had to flick her skirt aside to prevent it from being hit by the yellow glob.

  "He plucked me from the hands of a lecherous cad."

  Zane shoved the boy inside the marshal's office and slammed the door behind him. The wailing quit abruptly when the widow fainted into the arms of two younger women. The pair of them immediately took up her lament.

  "Come, Muff, come," Missy commanded. Now she understood why Zane had ordered her to stay put.

  Muff erupted from the hay and dashed toward the back of the barn in pursuit of something brown and furry.

  "Muff, leave it!" She scrambled after him and scooped him up just as a mouse squeezed through a dollar-sized hole in the livery wall.

  She placed the pup in his pouch and plucked several pieces of alfalfa from his fur. It would take more than a moment to clean him up so she straightened his red ribbon then closed the flap over his face.