Under a Texas Star (15 page)

"Thank you, Deputy Landers," Miss June said, smiling, "for taking such good care of the girls." She turned to Baker. "Now stop being such a fuss-budget.

"You know," Marly told Jase that evening after giving him an account of her day, "I don't think it was Egan that put Locke up to killing Strothers."

"You just wanna get your future brother-in-law off the hook." He grinned, unable to resist goading her. "But I agree. For one thing, murderers don't tend to want the law to marry into their families."

She shook her head. "The reason I don't think Egan is involved is because he isn't the type."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm not saying he wouldn't kill. I just got the impression that it's a family trait to handle things personally. If he wanted Strothers dead, he'd do it himself. He'd provoke a fight or something straightforward like that. I know Strothers was a fast draw, but Egan is a dead shot."

"So I've heard. Take it he told you that."

"Of course not. I asked Mick Riley. Seems Baker is a marksman too. Or was. He's more the gentleman rancher now. Not the type to get his hands dirty."

Jase frowned. "Still, it seems you're spendin' a lot of time with the girl. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were playin' fast and loose."

"Well, you do know better," she snapped. "And I'm not. I've got my reasons for hanging around Miss Amabelle."

"I can just guess."

"I hope you can 'cause part of the reason is for her protection. I might be wrong about Baker being the one who ordered Strothers' death, but I know he used his position to put pressure on Amabelle and I don't think that's right.
"

"You seem to be speakin' from experience," he said. "Did Meese put pressure on you?"

"Not so crudely, but yes. He was sweet to me, but he made it clear to my aunt and others that I should marry him―that I
had
to marry him. Funny thing was, I probably wou
ld have if he hadn't tried to force the issue."

"Didn't you tell your aunt you weren't interested in him?"

"Aunt Adele impressed upon me that I would have to marry someone someday. Might as well be Charlie. But I didn't like the game he was playing."

Jase gripped his cup a little tighter, but otherwise kept his feelings on this matter to himself.

"There was no one else?" he asked.

Marly smiled enigmatically. "Well, I was awful sweet on Sheriff Langtree, but I was just a kid to him. No, there was no one else. And according to Aunt Adele, there never would be in Cherryville once Charlie had ruined me, which she was sure he had, thanks to him."

Jase made a conscious effort to unclench his hands. "He hadn't?"

"No!"

He breathed again. "Good. I don't like walkin' into a situation knowin' I'm gonna have to kill a man."

After three days of riding over the better part of the Egan and Baker ranches, Jase decided to stay in town on Thursday. Marly suspected he wanted to keep an eye on her.

But she wasn't going to let that happen.

After a morning ride and target practice, she said, "Can I take the day off to work at The Oasis? I want to work off the lemonades I had with Amabelle and Kate the other day."

Jase shrugged. "Take the day off, but don't work too hard."

With a nod of thanks, Marly stepped outside and made her way to The Oasis. Once in a while, she checked over her shoulder to see if Jase was following her. He wasn't in sight.

Inside the saloon, Arnie had glasses to clean and wood to polish in preparation for the busy weekend ahead. Marly rolled up her sleeves and set to the first task, while the bartender buffed up his bar.

"You know," he said, "Ella's starting to get jealous. She thinks you're the sweetest fella and she's as green as anyone that you're seeing Miss Amabelle. It's heartbreaking."

Marly rolled her eyes.

"It's true."

"Well, I just hope you don't tease her the way you tease me. Anyway, she's a little young to be thinking of beaus. She can't be more than ten."

"Women generally like older men."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately. Tell her to hold out for young Liam O'Brian. If his sister is half right about the lad, he'll be perfect for her."

Arnie stopped his work and stared at Marly. "Liam? I'll bet the boy's not more than a couple of years younger than you, Mr. Landers."

"That's
Deputy
Landers," she said. "And it's more than a couple. I'm older than I look. Throws people off."

Jezebel swept into the room. "Fred!"

Fred appeared and took up a position beside her. "Yes, Miss Jezebel."

"I hardly think it appropriate that the marshal's deputy be doing bar work in this or any other establishment. It ain't fitting. If you must trade our hard-earned goods for his labors, have the discretion to put him to work in the kitchen or the storeroom."

"Yes, Miss Jezebel."

Jezebel nodded curtly at Marly and strode off toward the stairs. Pausing at the bottom, she turned, saying, "And, Fred, make sure Louis packs up some of those pastries for the boy before you let him go." She smiled at Marly. "He's a good worker, even if he does have a lot of sass."

When Jezebel was out of sight, Arnie took the cloth from Marly's hand and steered her out from behind the bar.

"You heard the boss" he said. "You got any work for him, Fred?"

"I'm sure I can find something appropriate for Deputy Landers to occupy his time with so he can earn a roast chicken to take back for dinner. Louis' pastries deserve a better introduction than beans and bacon."

Marly couldn't agree more.

Chapter 12

Jase was busy with Winters after dinner and since Fred had no work for Marly, she wandered over to the livery. Jase had said she couldn't work there anymore, but she figured that didn't include taking care of their horses. She also decided it didn't preclude her helping Mr. Sloan and Hank shoe a difficult mustang.

"If you make a fool of me," she whispered to the horse, "I will recommend you to the hotel cook and you will either become good chili or a really bad pot roast."

The mustang snorted, eyes drawn to a spot over Marly's shoulder.

"You're being watched," Hank said, grinning.

Amabelle stood nearby, her arms resting on a fence rail.

"How do you know it's not you I'm watching, Hank?"

Hank's grin faded and Marly almost laughed at the look of panic on the man's face.

With the critical eye of someone who knows horses, Amabelle watched them work. She didn't make any more comments, but Hank was clearly discomfited by her attention. As soon as the job was done, Marly took pity on him and led the young lady away.

"What are you up to, Miss Amabelle?"

"I came into town to shop with Aunt June, but she's been invited to supper at the Minister's house. If I go, I will be preached at. On the other hand, if you escort me home, my aunt will let me leave."

Marly rolled her eyes.

"Please," Amabelle said. "The minister is
very
boring."

Marly shrugged. "Let me check in with the marshal."

Jase wasn't in the office, so she left a note for him. She couldn't see that he would have an issue with her going. They would be taking the Egan's gig with Trouble tied up behind. Miss June would be taken home by the minister. She made a show of reluctance, but seemed happy to have a night out without her niece.

She let them go with the one condition.

"Deputy Landers has to get you home in time for supper."

Marly agreed.

As it turned out, they drove into the Lazy-E home yard just as the dinner bell was ringing. The hands were lined up at the cook house. Egan was sitting on the front porch.

"Where's Aunt June?" he asked Amabelle.

When she told him, he turned to Marly. "Thank you for bringing my sister home safely, Deputy. I surely appreciate it."

"My pleasure," Marly said.

"You must stay for dinner," Egan said. "Nothing fancy. The cook made biscuits, corn chowder and pecan pie. I'll fry some steaks to go with that."

"Matt's a better cook than me," Amabelle said. "Aunt June keeps trying to improve my skills. So far we've discovered I am best at making pickles."

Marly laughed.

This was the most comfortable she had ever been with the Egans. Amabelle wasn't trying to impress and after a few remarks about how much time Marly was spending with his sister, Egan let the subject drop.

Over supper, he tried to find out more about Marly's past and her connection with Jase, but that was to be expected. Marly gave him the official line that she was an orphan and Marshal Strachan was her self-appointed guardian.

"How did you get together?" Amabelle asked. "Is he a friend of your parents?"

"We met on the trail to El Paso. He decided I needed a protector. I was a lot greener when he first met me. Just a farm boy from Kansas."

"Why El Paso?"

"I might have a relation there," Marly replied, remembering what Jase told Jezebel.

"Mighty kind of the Ranger to escort you to El Paso," Egan said, sounding skeptical. "Didn't think they had time for that kind of thing."

"He has business there. It's not like he's going out of his way. In fact, I'm waiting on his convenience. That's why I'm still here."

"Will you stay with this relative when you find him or her?" Amabelle asked.

Marly hesitated. She couldn't think of an answer that would fit fact or fiction. She preferred not thinking about the road ahead. Not that road anyway. Her only answer was a shrug.

Egan gave Marly's shoulder a squeeze. "Don't fret it, boy. You've always got a place here. If that relation doesn't come through, or Strachan can't keep you on, my job offer's still open."

"That's mighty kind of you, sir."

"If Marshal Strachan doesn't stay," Amabelle added, "maybe my brother will recommend you to the new marshal."

A wave of depression swept over Marly. She didn't want to think of Jase leaving town. Or leaving her.

It was eight-thirty by the time she left the ranch. Egan would have had her stay the night.

"You can sleep in the guest room," he offered.

She declined politely, saddled Trouble and left with the knowledge that Jase would have a few things to say when she came in past nine o'clock.

Jase had run the gamut of emotions. He was more disappointed than surprised when Marly was late for supper. When she wasn't back after he returned from his evening patrol, he became concerned. Though the Egan ranch was extensive, it wasn't that far from town. Even allowing for Marly's naturally social disposition, she should have been back by now.

He looked at his untouched supper. Irritation swelled. She should have turned down a dinner invitation, if not because it was dangerous and unwise, but because she hadn't asked him first.

The sun descended and with it his mood.

He should have gone out to fetch her.

Intelligent enough when she chose to be, the girl had more guts than brains most times. What was she thinking of, staying out this late? What was he thinking of, just sitting there? She could be hurt or dead or in the clutches of damned Egan.

As he strode out the office, fear and anger clutched his heart with an iron grip. None of that showed. His expression was impassive, his gait purposeful, but not rushed. A Texas Ranger didn't run from danger or into it. He certainly didn't do anything to make others suspect he was in a panic. Nor did he succumb to his anger or relief when he met Marly leaving the livery.

"You're late."

"Sorry." She yawned. "Got invited to supper, then lost track of time."

He put a hand to her back and propelled her along the sidewalk. He didn't say another word until they were in the office and the door was locked for the night.

Then his calm reserve burst like a balloon.

"What were you thinkin', Marly Landers? I've been worried all evenin', not knowin' where you were."

"Didn't you get my note?"

"Your note said you were escortin' Miss Amabelle home. It said nothin' about bein' out for supper, socializin' with a suspect in a murder case and ridin' home alone in the dark."

Sleepily apologetic, but hardly contrite, she said, "I would have sent you a message if I could. You knew where I was. Besides, it's not like I knew I'd get invited for supper."

"And ridin' home after dark?"

"I rode with my rifle across my lap."

Marly checked the pot for coffee.

"I drank it all," he said with no apology. "But I saved you a plate of chicken and French pastries left over from earlier. I didn't know how long you'd be gone."

"The Egans did invite me to stay the night, but I thought that would worry you more."

"You thought right." He slapped his hand on the desk. "Egan ain't stupid. Spend enough time with him and he'll discover your secret. What then?"

Marly lifted a shoulder. "Egan accepts me as a boy. Wants me to marry his daughter, remember? You know, I bet I could go to that dance tomorrow."

"Forget it!"

"All I have to do is refuse to dance."

"And what are you gonna do, Marly Landers, when some matron comes up to you and presents you her daughter, hmm? Or are you gonna go off with the boys and try some corn whiskey and chew tobacco?"

Jase took a base pleasure in the way Marly turned a little green and dropped her fork.

"Okay," she said. "I'll stay behind."

To make up for not going to the social, Jase took Marly to The Oasis for lunch on Friday. Truth be told, he selfishly wanted her company and perhaps to impress her a little. They ate ham steaks glazed with honey and sweet potato fritters flavored with fresh herbs. It was a nice break from sandwiches, stews and pie.

Afterward they went to the general store to restock. The staples like beans, flour, sugar and ammunition were running low. While he ordered the necessities, Marly wandered off to look through the clothing.

Minutes later, she returned with a red and white striped shirt.

"You're not tellin' me you need another shirt, are you?" he asked.

"It's not for me. I have a new shirt already, remember?" She held it to Jase's shoulders. "I think it should fit."

He shook his head, but added the shirt to the other purchases.

Back at the office, Marly announced that she had arranged for them to have baths at The Oasis that evening.

"Fred will be giving you a haircut," she told him. "Mr. Pervis finally has his glasses, but Fred will do the job for free."

Jase tugged at his hair. "I'll be all right. I'll get a shave tomorrow. Before the dance."

She tilted her head to one side. "Want me to braid your hair?"

"Fine. I'll get it trimmed. Who you tryin' to impress anyway?"

"I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm not going, remember?"

Jase had a sudden thought, one he didn't want to broach with Marly, but had to.

"You know," he said, "Jez will expect us to use one room, 'less I take her up on one of her offers and use hers."

Marly rolled her eyes.

"I don't particularly want to," he said. "It's just that…things are different now. I know you're a girl. We can't pretend it's fine and proper. It ain't."

"I know."

"But we have to keep up the act. Anything else would be a disaster."

She gave him a calm nod.

Why wasn't Marly flustered?

"No problem," she said. "If you don't mind sharing the bath water, I don't."

Marly took the late afternoon patrol.

At the bank, Troy Riley was closing up. He asked her about her ride with Miss Amabelle, but Marly gave a noncommittal reply and moved on.

The general store was closed early, probably so Mrs. Quinton could make preparations for tomorrow's social event. Marly checked to make sure the doors were securely locked, then did the same at Penrod's Butcher Shop, the rear door of the bank and the stage office.

Next, she checked in on Mick Riley, who had been feeling his rheumatism earlier in the day. He had a shack backing onto the alley behind the bank. He let her know that a nip or two had taken the edge off, but he'd get an early night if it was quiet.

Marly decided to pass through The Haven, check on Hank at the livery, then loop around to make sure all was quiet at The Oasis and hotel before returning to the office. Jase's rule was for her to stay out of The Haven in the evening, unless she was with him, but the sun had not yet gone down so Marly strode through the doors, unprepared for trouble.

She should have remembered it was Friday.

Ranch hands worked a six-day week, excepting pay-week. Their days started at sunrise and ended at sunset. However, on Friday, it was common for the boys to take off a little early
―if they could get away with it. Hands from the Bar-B, Lazy-E and Circle-X were close enough to town to come in for the evening and some still had money burning a hole in their pockets. The up-coming social was greatly anticipated. It was clear that spirit
s were high. Had she been able to get away with it, Marly would have backed out the door and given the place the go-by.

Tom Tyson, arm still in a sling, homed in on Marly like a dog finding a soup bone. Once he made eye contact, she knew there was no backing away.

She stepped forward. Giving Tyson a polite nod, she walked up to the bar and greeted Duke, who automatically set her up with a cup of coffee.

"Give the boy a whisky on me," Tyson called. "Make a man of him."

"Kind of you," Marly drawled, "but no thanks. I'm still on duty."

"Turning down a drink could be seen as an insult."

"No insult intended. I'll drink with you, so long as I'm drinking coffee."

"But I
am
insulted," Tyson insisted.

He had been sitting at a table with Roy Parker and a couple of other hands from the Bar-B. Parker had moved away. Now Tyson stood, tucking his jacket back to give him clear access to his revolver. Marly noticed that Parker was sidling around behind her.

"Leave the kid alone," a man at another table said.

"Shut up, Birke. This is my business, not yours."

Marly had not met Hugh Birke, but Jase had told her about their conversation. In his estimation, Birke was trustworthy, closed-mouthed. She spared him a glance and decided that was good enough. She had to keep her attention on Tyson and Parker.