Authors: Barbara Bretton
The card game broke up around sunset.
"I'm headin' over to Aunt Sally's for some grub," Three Toe Taylor said, hitching his pants up by the belt loops. "Anybody else goin'?"
The other men rose and pocketed what winnings they'd managed to hang on to during Jesse's lucky streak.
"Got just enough for some beans and bread," said Big Red with a regretful shake of his head. "You got yourself the luck of the devil, Jesse."
"Don't worry, Morgan," Jesse said, shaking the man's hand. "You'll get a chance to win it back later tonight, if you're game."
The other men ambled off toward Aunt Sally's for some chow while Jesse strolled into the saloon to spell Sam long enough for his bartender to grab his own supper.
For a change, things were quiet; nobody came in looking to dig up the tomahawk with Jesse acting as referee. Before he had a chance to figure out the day's receipts, Sam was back ready to take over his place at the bar for the evening shift.
"Go ahead, boss," said Sam, tying on a fresh white apron. "The night's young and Jade's waitin' for ya."
Jesse took in the twinkle in his bartender's brown eyes. "You look like you're singin' with your tail up. Old Sally must've served stew and sourdough bullets."
"Hell, no," said Sam, pouring some whiskey and sliding the glass down to Doc at the end of the bar. "I didn't eat at Sally's."
"You don't work real good on an empty stomach and there ain't no other place in town worth a damn."
"Jade's waitin' for you," Sam repeated, the twinkle still in his eyes.
"Not talking?"
"Not talking."
"I'll find out her name soon enough," Jesse said with a grin. "Can't keep secrets in this town, Sam."
"Remember that," said his bartender as Jesse headed for the door, "because that holds for you too."
That seemed kind of an odd thing for Sam to say. Over the last few years Jesse'd taken supper with Jade as often as not; it didn't exactly take a genius to figure she was waiting for him up at the Golden Dragon. From the beginning he'd set out to separate himself from the rest of the men in Silver Spur; mystery and power seemed to go hand in hand and he'd figured by making them wonder, he would find it easier to gain control of the town.
And damned if he hadn't done exactly that. Jesse stood on the top step and took in the town spread before him, then headed up the street. Everything he walked past, from the bank to the dry goods store to the King of Hearts, bore his stamp—one way or the other.
Even the Golden Dragon was his in a manner of speaking. From the day he'd found Jade in San Francisco, raped and beaten, she'd been a part of his life. He cared for her, sure, and had been real glad to see her escape the crushing poverty of her parents but she'd never had his heart. When she set up business in Silver Spur he'd been surprised but quick to see the benefits. They fell in with each other as much out of convenience as friendship and it wasn't a bad feeling to know there was some place he could go and relax without worrying about watching his back.
Jade wasn't like Caroline Bennett—not by a long shot. Jade knew how to please a man, how to talk to a man so he felt as if he owned the world. Her hands could take a man places he'd never been before and all for the price of a bottle of whiskey and a new broadcloth shirt. Jade didn't fight him or backtalk him or do any of the other things Caroline Bennett did that made his blood boil and yet for some damned reason he'd been finding it harder than the hubs of hell to get the blonde-haired gal out of his mind.
What he needed was Jade, he thought as he climbed the steps to her suite on the third floor of the Golden Dragon. He needed a woman who didn't ask questions, who didn't pass judgment, a woman who was as different from that blonde-haired easterner as night was from day.
Jade, however, was skittish as an oily bronc tonight. She greeted him with a cool smile then paced the length of the bedroom while he devoured a slab of rare steak and a heap of fried potatoes and washed the whole mess down with some cold Mexican beer.
"Got to hand it to you, darlin'," he said, leaning back in his chair and lighting up a cigar. "When it comes to feedin' a man, you ain't got no rival."
She stopped for a moment near the window and pierced him with a surprising look.
"Something wrong, darlin'? You're lookin' a little peaked."
"It's all over town, Jesse," she said. "I know what you've been up to."
"Been up to a lot of things lately." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a thick stack of bills. "Pretty damned good poker game this afternoon, for one."
She tilted her head toward the Crazy Arrow across the street. "I'm talkin' about your new home."
He took a long puff on his cigar, trying to figure out just what the gal was driving at. "Got to be a question of honor," he said, truthfully enough. "If the filly's going to take what don't belong to her, she's going to have to pay the consequences."
"Don't lie to me, Jesse."
"Ain't lied to you before, and I don't plan to start now. There's been a lot of talk these past weeks about me and the Crazy Arrow and it was time to take a stand."
"You're a smart man, Jesse, and a smart man would've tossed the gal out on her tail same as you'd do to a man."
Jesse rose and crossed the room to where Jade stood at the window. "Got me a complication or two on that score: the gal's got herself the deed to the Arrow."
Jade's laugh was low and bitter. "Deeds ain't never stopped you."
"Ain't met nobody, man or woman, so hellbent for leather before."
"Seems to me a real woman ain't supposed to fight a man every step of the way." Jade's voice grew real low and tempting as her hands stroked across his chest and down toward his belt buckle. "A real woman's got ways of bringin' a man around to her way of thinkin'."
From the corner of his eye he caught a flash of movement at the front window of the Crazy Arrow. A buggy rattled down the road, kicking up big puffs of red dirt, and making it hard to see the figure standing behind the curtains.
Jade unfastened his belt and her fingers moved toward the buttons on his pants.
"Whoa, gal," he said, with a laugh that sounded false even to his own ears. "We got all night."
Jade said nothing, but her hands moved upward toward his chest and began to unbutton his shirt. Any other day that would have been enough to set him off quicker than a stick of cyclone shot. Tonight, however, was proving to be full of surprises.
"Relax," Jade murmured, opening his shirt and pressing her lips against his chest. "Let me take care of you, Jesse..."
But there across the street was the lovely form of Caroline Bennett, silhouetted against the faded curtains, watching him, and something inside him stopped cold.
"Jade," he said, placing his hands upon her silk-clad shoulders, "why don't we have us a drink or two...kind of wait a spell—"
She pressed closer to him. "Why wait, Jesse? I'm ready for you now..."
"Jade, I—"
It happened so fast he hadn't time to think. The bullet shattered the window then whizzed right through the fraction of an inch of space between Jade and him, only to lodge itself in the huge mahogany armoire across the room.
"Son of a bitch!" He stared through the broken window at the Crazy Arrow across the street. "She's tryin' to kill me!"
Jade looked out the window then up at Jesse. "Nobody out there that I can see. Stray bullets ain't exactly unheard of around here."
"That was no stray bullet," he said, anger building inside his gut. "She was standin' there, planning the whole damn thing."
He turned and started out of the room but Jade grabbed his shirt sleeve and stopped him a few feet away from the door.
"Let it go, Jesse," she pleaded. "She ain't worth the trouble."
He tried to pull free but she held fast to his sleeve. "Damnation, Jade! I got to—"
"You don't need the Arrow, Jesse. You don't need any part of this damn town. I got me a plan. We ain't gonna be here forever. I got us a way out."
Her dark eyes were huge with some emotion he'd never seen before and the look scared him more than the bullet that had come crashing through the window.
"Look at me, gal," he said, his voice gentle as he could manage. "Ain't neither one of us going nowhere at all. Forget those damn dreams of Mexico because it ain't going to happen. This town is all there's ever going to be for either one of us and the quicker you make your peace with it, the better off you're going to be."
She released her grip on his sleeve and he was halfway to the Crazy Arrow before he had a chance to think about what he'd done.
#
"You're wrong, Jesse darlin'," Jade whispered as his footsteps faded away. There was a way out of that stinking town and the key to it rested deep in the bowels of the old Rayburn mine. Those stacks of gold and silver bullion represented a lifetime free of care and worry.
A lifetime together.
Just two more stagecoach robberies and she would have accumulated more than she'd ever believed possible in a lifetime. Even with the cut she gave to her accomplice, she was still rich as Croesus.
She didn't need any pretty young blue-eyed blonde sniffing around Jesse Reardon like a bitch in heat.
Tears stung her eyes as she remembered how Jesse used to fling her over his shoulder and toss her down on the red satin sheets, as eager as a young stallion to taste her charms. Tonight he had turned away from her, his reluctance like a sharp knife piercing her heart. And she knew exactly where to place the blame.
The broken step and the other accidents had been warnings, meant to scare the city girl back home to Boston where she belonged. Too bad Miss Caroline hadn't seen fit to take the warning.
"Play with fire, will you, Caroline Bennett?" Jade said to the empty room. "Sorry, gal, but you're about to get burned."
Caroline was halfway up the stairs, carrying a load of freshly laundered bed linens for Jesse Reardon's room, when he burst through the front door of the Crazy Arrow.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he bellowed, reaching the landing in the blink of an eye.
"Bringing your bed linens upstairs," she said evenly, despite the racing of her heart. "If you'll excuse me..."
He moved his lean strong body directly in her path. "You're not goin' anywhere, darlin'."
"It's hot and it's late, Mr. Reardon, and unlike you I have been working hard all day. Please allow me to finish my tasks and retire for the night."
He grabbed her forearm and two pillow slips tumbled to the floor at Caroline's feet. "Where the hell do you come off tryin' to kill me?"
"Good Lord, Mr. Reardon! You certainly have an inflated opinion of your importance in my life. I have scarcely given your existence a thought all day."
"Don't lie to me!" He jerked her closer until the pile of bed linens was the only thing between them. "I saw you standin' in that damn window just before that bullet came whizzin' into Jade's room."
"Perhaps you had no business being in Jade's room."
"Maybe you don't have no business trying to shoot me dead."
"Had I shot at you, Mr. Reardon, I hope I would have done so with more accuracy. There isn't a mark on you."
His grip tightened and the rest of the laundry spilled from her arms. "Don't lie to me, darlin'. I'll find out the truth soon enough and I won't go easy on you."
Dear God, she had never before seen a man so filled with outrage! If only Abby or one of the boarders would suddenly appear on the scene; perhaps then he would let her go.
She raised her chin in her most imperious manner and glared up at him. "If you are looking for sympathy, you have come to the wrong place. Perhaps you have forgotten, but my shoulder still bears the mark of a bullet of unknown origin." If pressed, she could also mention the broken cellar steps, the rock through the front window, and the score of verbal threats Reardon himself had unleashed upon her person. "If you are looking for an assailant, look elsewhere."
"I ain't going to argue with you, lady. Just hand over your gun."
"I don't have a gun."
"The hell you don't. That wasn't a peashooter you used."
"I tell you I don't have a gun." She paused. "At least I didn't have one before today."
"Son of a bitch! I knew you'd come clean sooner or later."
"You don't understand." She broke free of his grip and reached into the pocket of her apron to withdraw the pistol Abby had procured. "See? It's not even loaded."
He took the gun and checked both chambers. "This is a derringer. Derringers don't have that kind of range. Where'd you stash the rest of your hardware?"
Fear was quickly being supplanted by plain ordinary anger. "For the last time, Mr. Reardon, this is all the hardware I have. Abby purchased this gun at the general store and the bullets won't arrive until tomorrow."