Gus rubbed the scar on his cheek. “I’m telling you, he’s not the one we need to worry about. It’s that little gal of ours. By sending her to that fancy school, we tried to mold her into something she’s not. We have quashed her spirit for too many years. Have any of you taken a good look at her lately? Did you listen to her in the courtroom? Our little Maggie is all grown up. She’s going to want a man!”
“Well I don’t want a woman,” Rafe snapped, backing away from the cutlass.
“You want a man!” Lucky exclaimed, an expression of alarm flickering across his face.
Rafe lost his patience. “What I
want
is the opportunity to enjoy an uninterrupted nap on my own land. Alone! And you can damn well rest assured that if I were in the mood for a woman, she sure as hell wouldn’t be the female offspring of a band of over—the-hill buccaneers!”
MacKenzie’s complexion flushed red. “Are you saying our Maggie isn’t good enough for you? I’ll have you know she’s the prettiest, sweetest, most gentle and loving girl in Texas. In all of America, for that matter. Maybe even the entire world. It doesn’t matter that the lass is our granddaughter. You won’t be able to resist her. You will try to take her to your bed and then I’ll have to kill you.” He turned to Ben and heaved a sigh. “This won’t work. We may as well go home. He’ll die before he steals our treasure back for us.”
Rafe dropped his head back, his eyes shut. “I’m dreaming, that’s what this is. I’m really asleep and having a nightmare.”
The chuckle began softly, then swelled to a full-bodied guffaw. Ben Scovall laughed for a full minute before regaining control. “I haven’t been so entertained since we took that troupe of actors captive off the coast of Trinidad.” He clapped Rafe on the shoulder. “Relax, son. Allow me to explain why we have come.”
Rafe’s wasn’t in the mood to relax. That had ended when a blade pricked his skin. But surprisingly, neither was he of a mind to throw these intruders off his property. In the midst of MacKenzie’s diatribe a few moments ago, he had said something that caught Rafe’s attention. The pirate had spoken a word—two words, actually—that appealed to the side of Rafe he’d stifled for a long time now: “steal” and “treasure.”
Damn, but at times he missed the life.
For the past four years, Rafe had lived on the right side of the law. But prior to that, he had been unarguably the most successful thief in Texas. He’d stolen almost everything under the sun—horses, guns, cash. Anything of value. He’d learned his craft young, stealing food to survive, clothes to wear, all the necessities an orphan required to stay alive. He’d taken a hiatus from thievery during those years the Prescotts took him in and treated him like their own, but after the Texas Revolution—after the debacle following the battle of San Jacinto—Rafe’s outlook on life changed. He’d been betrayed by men in power—the officers of the Army of the Republic of Texas—based on the ugly, false accusations of his half brother Nick Callahan. As a result, he went back to stealing with a vengeance, until his best friend, Texas Ranger Luke Prescott, worked a deal to get him amnesty for his crimes. An amnesty subject to revocation should Gentleman Rafe Malone ever again take to stealing in Texas.
Rafe wouldn’t break his word to Luke for any price, but he was a curious man by nature. The mystery and ramblings of these old men appealed to that long-unappeased part of him that craved adventure. What would it hurt to listen to them?
He scooped his hat from the ground and placed it on his head, eyeing Lucky, Gus, and Snake MacKenzie before fixing his gaze on Ben. “Why don’t y’all come on up to the house. I have some decent whiskey, or maybe rum.”
“Do you have any wine?” MacKenzie asked. “Bordeaux, preferably. It’s heading on to four o’clock. Time for our dose of Lake Bliss water. We’ve found it mixes best with Bordeaux.”
Lake Bliss water? Rafe didn’t think he even wanted to ask. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said dryly.
The visitors walked their horses as Rafe led them toward the log dwelling a short distance away. Built in the two-room dogtrot style common in Texas, the house was small but comfortable. Rafe had lived here for a little over two years. The curtains on the window and cushions on the chairs made it a bit fancy for a bachelor’s abode, in Rafe’s opinion. His views hadn’t mattered squat once Luke’s wife Honor had taken it to mind to spruce the place up.
When Rafe and Luke had decided to go in as partners on a horse-breeding business, the Prescotts had sold their old place, Duvall Farms, and bought the land adjacent to his. They had built a large new home on the other side of the hill from Rafe’s, which was handy because the Winning Ticket Ranch had a damn fine cook.
Honor liked to mother—a good thing considering she now had four children and an elderly mother-in-law to tend—and she’d taken Rafe on as a project. Other than the matchmaking, he mostly enjoyed the attention. If the pirates gave the bows and ruffles on his frilly yellow gingham window curtains a second glance, he didn’t care. Rafe was nothing if not confident in his manhood.
Lucky Nichols admired the roses decorating the cabin’s front wall, but as they walked indoors it was Snake MacKenzie who truly surprised Rafe by saying, “Lookie there, Gus. Malone has kitchen curtains just like mine.”
Rafe also had a kitchen table large enough to accommodate the entire Prescott family when they came to call, so he gestured for the men to take a seat, then rummaged around a stack of storage crates until he found a dusty bottle of port. “This will have to do,” he said, pouring a round for the pirates. Having sworn off liquor for the most part himself, he filled his
own glass with cider. “So,” he said, taking a seat. “You fellas want to tell me what this is all about?”
Lucky stood and tugged a small flat bottle from his back pocket. He pulled out the cork with a pop. “This is what it’s about.”
Rafe lifted the clear glass flask and eyed the cloudy liquid inside. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed. And grimaced.
Rotten eggs.
“That smells worse than turned buttermilk.”
“But it can make an old man feel like a young buck,” Gus said.
“Or give a sick girl relief from her pain,” Ben added in a quiet, solemn voice.
The pirates shared a look that had the hairs on Rafe’s neck standing at attention. Then Gus snorted and reached into his shirt. Pulling out a broadside, he tossed it onto the table.
“Hotel Bliss?” Rafe read aloud.
“The finest spa west of Saratoga, New York,” Lucky said, beaming. “Our curative waters will doctor all sorts of ills, and our mud baths will not only ease your aches, they’ll make your skin soft as a newborn’s behind.”
Glancing at the old pirate’s leathery skin, Rafe swallowed a pithy remark and read from the broadside. “ ‘Located in the beautiful Big Thicket of deep east Texas. Romantic dance parties. Picnics and buggy races.’ A billiard saloon?”
Snake MacKenzie linked his fingers over his belly and leaned back in his chair. “The hotel is closed at the moment, but that’s only a temporary setback. You see, the lass is looking to attract visitors on holiday, not simply those in need of medical miracles. On account of what she went through herself, it’s real important to her that sick folk get to rub shoulders with healthy folk every chance they get.”
On account of what she went through?
Rafe was intrigued. He’d always been a curious sort, and the more the pirates talked, the more he wanted to know about Maggie St. John. What was this about a courtroom? And of course, he hadn’t forgotten the treasure, either.
“Help me out, here, fellas. I’m having trouble making the connection between bottled water and a health spa, Mary Margaret St. John, and waking from my afternoon nap to a Caribbean toothpick against my throat. In other words, where does treasure come into it?”
“Why don’t you tell him, Ben?” Gus said. “It’s your idea. You’re the one who figured out how we’re gonna save Maggie.”
Ben poured a long splash of the bottled water into his glass of port, obviously gathering his thoughts. “I am afraid my friends got ahead of themselves in explaining our purpose for approaching you. What they mentioned—the spa, the water, even Mary Margaret—are our personal motives for making this trip and do not concern you.” He reached for the saddlebags he’d carried with him into the house and tossed open the flap.
Rafe’s gaze fixed on the canvas bag Scovall withdrew. Ben tossed it onto the center of the table, and the old familiar
chink
as it landed sent Rafe’s heart beating double time. Coins. Gold coins? At Ben’s go-ahead nod, he reached for the pouch and confirmed his suspicion. Old gold coins. “Spanish doubloons.”
“Aye. A mere sampling of the pirate booty we collected over the years. The value of that bag is approximately three thousand of today’s dollars. We have at least a hundred times that amount in gold, jewels, and other riches hidden away.”
A shiver raced up Rafe’s spine. He’d been poor too long—a thief too long—not to react to that kind of figure.
Ben Scovall smiled at him knowingly. “We chose our treasure hoard carefully, Mr. Malone, and for many years we have been able to access it whenever necessary. That, I’m afraid, has changed. And that is why we have come to you.”
Rafe thought of what MacKenzie had said earlier about stealing their treasure back for them. “So you’re hoping I’ll steal back what someone else stole from you after you stole it from the owners in the first place.”
Gus snapped gnarled fingers. “The man is quick, too.”
“And you’re out of luck,” Rafe replied. He shoved back his chair and stood. “Sorry, fellas, but if I’m caught stealing in the Republic of Texas, the rangers will revoke my pardon and put a noose around my neck. I’m not the man for this job.”
“The impatience of youth,” Ben said with a sigh. “Sit back down, Malone. I think you are the man for this job, and if you will allow me to finish my explanation, I believe you will agree. The situation is not as simple as you think. This mission does involve danger, true. But unless the Texas Rangers have international jurisdiction, landing in a Texas prison is not one of those hazards. Tell me, Mr. Malone, do you consider yourself an adventurous man?”
Rafe set down his glass of cider with a thud. “Are you telling me your treasure isn’t hidden in Texas?”
“Not even in the United States. Think about it. We are willing to negotiate a substantial fee for your services and at the same time we are offering a…holiday of adventure, one might describe it.”
Adventure. Rafe twisted his wrist, swirling the cider in his glass as yearning filled him despite his better sense. He tried to hide it behind a sarcastic drawl. “So, other than a treasure hunt, what could I look forward to on this…holiday of adventure?”
“Could be some fighting,” Lucky said, his eyes gleaming.
Ben gave him a disapproving stare. “Only if your skills are rusty, Mr. Malone, and I seriously doubt that is the case. You should be able to elude the difficult individuals who have taken up residence in the area. It is true that a successful conclusion of this task will require the use of stealth, cunning, and superior physical strength, but you, of course, possess all three.”
Gus nudged Lucky with an elbow. His scar twisted on his cheek as he spoke softly from the side of his mouth. “Never heard the captain flatter a man before. He’s almost as slick at that as he is with the ladies.”
When Ben didn’t react, Rafe wondered if the pirate captain wasn’t a little hard of hearing. “Why don’t you elaborate some on these ‘difficult individuals.’”
Lucky, Gus, and MacKenzie shared a grimace, then looked toward their captain to reply. “It is an out-of—the-way part of the world,” Ben said. “Being a Texan, you undoubtedly know such spots often attract a…scruffier element of society who tends to settle in among the natives. In this case, it is the descendants of those who settled the region with Captain Laffite after he left Texas years ago. The natives are—”
“Yucatecs,” Rafe interrupted, aware of the pirate king’s destination after deserting Galveston over thirty years earlier. “They’re also embroiled in a war, if I’m not mistaken. You hid your treasure in a jungle?”
Ben cocked his head and smiled. “We hid it in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Consider it, Malone. You will be gone six weeks. Two months at the very most. Think of turquoise water and unspoiled beaches. Riches beyond belief.”
“You might as well throw in the other lure,” Gus interrupted. “A beautiful woman to look at. Toss in a little rum, and life just doesn’t get any better.”
“Woman!” Snake MacKenzie slammed his fist down onto the table. “She is not going. Especially not with a man like this one. Besides, this is no pleasure cruise. What if the lass gets sick again? No, I simply won’t hear of it!”
“Hearing has nothing to do with it,” Gus said, his voice brimming with sorrow. “It’ll take physical force to prevent Maggie from going. We may be mean sonofabitches on the high seas, but not a one of us has what it takes to raise a hand against our Maggie. Nope, we won’t be able to stop her from tagging along.”
Rafe glanced around the table. The woebegone expression on Lucky’s face suggested he agreed with Gus. Rafe couldn’t read a thing on Ben Scovall’s countenance.
“She’s been angling to go ever since we brought it up, you know it,” Gus continued. “You’re gonna have to let it go, Snake. Let
her
go. She’s twenty-five years old. It’s amazing we’ve been able to put this moment off as long as we have. We’ve done our best by Maggie, and we have to trust her to choose what she needs. If that means a bit of adventure with Malone here before she settles down with a good man, then we have to accept it.”
Good man
, Rafe thought, offended.
What the hell am I, a prized pig?
“I’ll be damned if I accept it.” MacKenzie glared at Rafe. “I’ll cut off his jewels first!”
Instinctively, Rafe pressed his thighs together.
“You won’t hurt him, Snake. I have dibs on that.” Lucky rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I hate saying it, but Gus is right about some of it. Maggie is getting more difficult to handle by the day. The longer she’s home with us, the less of a hold all that gentility she learned in school has on her. She’s reverting to the old ways. All the schooling in the world can’t overcome the years of living with the likes of us.”