Under a Texas Star (17 page)

Baker
had
been jealous of Strothers. And by report, he was now jealous of Marly.

How jealous?

There were certain aspects of her new career that Marly found dead boring. Having to stay in the office and guard prisoners was at the top of that list. Jase had warned her to check on them periodically and to give them the silent treatment.

That was easy. Every time they saw her, they either swore a blue streak or stared at her in sullen silence. They did try to cajole Duke when he brought them each a bowl of soup.

Duke shook his head. "Not this time, boys."

Later, Fred came over with a basket. "Why don't you do your rounds, Deputy Landers, while I lay out your supper?"

"Thank you, Fred."

"I can only stay a half hour this time. Miss Jezebel will be needing me. I shall return later, however."

"That sounds fine, Fred."

"If you would permit, Master Landers, I will stay and converse at that time."

Marly was grateful for the company. She had already finished three short stories about the daring career of Wild Bill Hickok that afternoon and the sameness of the adventures were beginning to tell. There were no new gun catalogues to peruse and she'd already read two of Shakespeare's plays.

Fred might not be lively, but he was intelligent. And he might be persuaded to talk about Jase's past.

It was a relief to get out of the office. Once outside, Marly breathed in the warm night air, grateful for the light breeze that cooled her skin. The Egans had been blessed with perfect weather for their party.

She wondered how it was going.

Was Jase dancing with one of the young ladies?

She scowled, not wanting to think about it.

Marly patrolled the streets, but all was pleasant and quiet. Mick Riley chatted with her, but was more intent on having a postprandial nap. The livery was quiet. At The Oasis, the only greeting she got was the admonition to get back to the office quick because Miz Jez wanted her dinner. She returned to the Marshal's Office and passed the message on to Fred.

"Miss Jezebel can wait a few minutes," he said.

Marly's eyes widened, but she said nothing as Fred served up a plate of cold roast beef, pickles and thickly cut bread. A jar of milk sat on the desk. He poured half the contents into one of the mugs.

Satisfied, he stepped back. "Enjoy your meal."

"You best be going," she warned. "I'll be all right."

"Of course you will, Master Landers. I will return in a couple of hours. Don't try to make coffee without me. I have it on the good authority of Marshal Strachan that your coffee is worse than his shaving."

Jase leaned against a pecan tree and watched Miss Amabelle juggle her admirers. What attracted the cowboys and ranchers' sons was obvious. Amabelle Egan was the prettiest and wealthiest girl in the district. It was to her credit that most girls liked her. A couple of them were clearly devoted to her.

If Amabelle lapped up this hero worship, she also made sure her devotees were not left out of the conversation or dancing. With those young ladies who were more on a par with her in popularity and position, Amabelle engaged in friendly rivalry. At the moment, this included a light-hearted competition for the interest of one Texas Ranger-turned-Marshal.

Kate O'Brian was the liveliest of the lot and the most intent.

Jase innocently flirted with her, admiring her earthy beauty and pragmatic nature. He could tell she was clever enough not to take him too seriously.

"You know, Miss Kate, you'd make a good match for Landers. You're both redheads." He gave Amabelle an apologetic look.

Amabelle frowned. "I don't think he's your type, Kate."

"Oh, I don't know," Kate said with a smile. "I think he's very sweet."

"Who is this fellow?" asked one Kate's admirers.

"Haven't you been listening, Will?" she chided. "Marly Landers is the marshal's assistant."

"Just a kid," Bob Johnstone added.

"My
deputy
," Jase said sharply. In a lighter tone, he added, "And Miss Amabelle's latest beau."

Amabelle waved a hand in the air. "A slight exaggeration, I think."

"No offence intended, Marshal Strachan," Johnstone said, "but your deputy
is
rather young."

"Old enough to face Tom Tyson," someone piped up.

Johnstone glared at the speaker, whom Jase didn't recognize.

Probably one of the Slashed-Bars' crew, one of Johnstone Sr.'s employees.

"He may look young," Amabelle snapped, "but Marly Landers is old enough to be a gentleman to a lady. And he doesn't back down to anyone. Not even my brother or Gabe Baker."

This remark caused a few feet to shuffle. A blush suffused Bob Johnstone's face. There probably wasn't a man there that didn't keep a respectful distance when either Egan or Baker showed up.

The band started playing a slow waltz and Jase asked for Amabelle's hand. The pace allowed them to converse as they danced.

"My deputy tells me that Mr. Baker is bothering you some."

Amabelle's eyes narrowed. "He did, did he?"

Jase gave her an encouraging smile. "Marly is just concern
ed―doesn't like to see a lady put under any undue pressure. In that respect," he said, carefully watching her face for her reaction, "I think he sees you as a sister."

She nodded, lost in thought.

"When you say Landers stood up to your brother and Mr. Bake
r," he continued, "how do you mean exactly?"

She gave a tiny shrug. "I don't know what he said to Matt. I just know that afterward my brother showed Mr. Landers more respect. I was there when Gabe tried to intimidate him. He stood right up to him. For a moment, I was afraid there was going to be a gun fight. It was very exciting."

Jase didn't trust a reply to that.

The dance ended and he returned Amabelle to her friends, leaving to circulate in more mature company. He appeared at her side later to exclude Baker from taking her to the late supper. He collected up the O'Brians, commanding Shea to find and hold seats for the group.

Soon, Amabelle was safely surrounded and Baker, defeated, left the party. After a brief and unsuccessful attempt to find his host to say good night, Jase left also.

As promised, Fred came over to the office so Marly could do the evening patrol. All was quiet and the chore was quickly accomplished. When she returned, Fred set out a sweet plate, then taught her how to make drip coffee.

"You might have better luck with this than the modern percolator from the office," he said.

After checking on her prisoners and making sure the back door was firmly locked, she put her rifle on the rack. Fred insisted that she take the more comfortable chair behind the marshal's desk. When he had poured the coffee and trimmed the wick of the lantern, he sat opposite her and nibbled on a biscuit.

"Nothing is going on in town tonight," she said. "The only ones left are the hardened gamblers and the quiet drinkers. I might end up bringing in one or two of the drunks if the night gets cold."

"And the gamblers?"

"Any trouble they cause will be amongst themselves and over before I can do anything."

"You learn quickly. You and Marshal Strachan make a good team. But for two things, I would have your appointment as the town's lawmen become permanent."

"Two things?"

"One, neither of you would accept the appointment," Fred said.

She shook her head, bemused. It was difficult to shake the feeling that in his terribly stiff English way he was laughing at her.

"I suspect I know what you are thinking," he said. "If I have learned nothing else, I've learned that age does not always bring wisdom. Nor has my experience supported the idea that there is a weaker sex. I hear you've learned to play chess. Would you like a game?"

She suspected the game had already started.

"The second reason," Fred continued, setting up the board, "is that it would be a waste of talent. I assure you, murders are not normal in Fortuna. I doubt Master Jason would quit the Texas Rangers in any case, especially now he has such an able partner."

"Well..."

"There may come a time when it will no longer be, shall we say, convenient for you to be traipsing all over Texas. Perhaps then you will consider making Fortuna your home. By that time, Miss Amabelle should be married and you might safely return."

She stared at him, wondering what he was getting at.

The next half hour was taken up with opening moves and counter-moves. Marly was painstaking with her moves, not yet comfortable with the game and its strategies. Fred gave her pointers, usually after she had made a mistake. She lost the first game quickly.

During the second game, she asked him about his adventures.

"You seemed to have been many places."

"You might say I am well traveled. Is there something in particular about me that you are curious about, Master Landers?"

That might have quelled someone else. Not Marly.

"I am a little curious why you left England. I'm not asking. It's your business if you want to tell me."

"Rest assured, I will give
your
privacy equal respect."

Marly studied the board, pondering her next move.

"Let us just say that, like you, I can't go back," he said.

She took her queen out of danger, threatening one of Fred's knights in the process. "If you can't go back, maybe it's time to go forward."

He squinted at her.

"It seems to me" she said, "that you haven't entirely left your past behind. Yet, there's a future waiting for you."

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps the same could be said of you, Master Landers."

"Maybe. I've got some things to work out with my past. Old debts, I guess you'd say. How I'm going to settle them, I don't know. And we still have a murderer to catch."

"It has been my experience," Fred said, taking her bishop with his endangered knight, "that the solutions to life's problems are generally achieved by winning one battle at a time."

Marly took his knight with one of her pawns.

One battle at a time.

Despite a gallant effort on Marly's part, Fred was the better player and eventually took the game.

Age may not bring wisdom, she thought, but experience certainly had its advantages.

She checked on the prisoners again, leaving them fresh water.

When she returned, Fred decided he could no longer shirk his duties at The Oasis and took his leave. Alone again, she tossed aside the penny dreadful and retrieved Jase's copy of Shakespeare's comedies. She finished Fred's coffee and
Much Ado About Nothing
about the same time.

She was debating whether to put on a fresh pot when the office door opened.

"Very good, Marly," Egan said, eying the barrel of the Remington, "but I come as a friend, not a foe."

It surprised and frightened Marly how fast her hand had found the gun. It took her a moment to recover before she smoothly holstered her weapon.

She hid her nerves by affecting Jase's lazy drawl. "Evening, Mr. Egan. Didn't expect to see you here. Dance over so soon?"

Egan removed his hat and placed it on the desk, leaning toward her as he did. "I wanted to see you in private."

A shiver of fear swept through Marly. She fought the feeling, along with the urge to pull her gun again.

"We missed you, Marly.
I
missed you."

He was nervous, she realized. There was something she couldn't quite define. His control was only surface deep. She wasn't out of danger.

Still, the knowledge calmed her.

"That's very kind, sir. I hope you're not going to tell me Miss Amabelle pined away with no one to flirt with."

Egan's smile was automatic, devoid of real humor. "No. My sister had plenty of fellows to keep her amused, including our new marshal." He waited for a reaction.

Marly shrugged. "Good for her."

"In any case, I think it best if Amabelle and you don't get any closer."

"Oh?" She folded her arms and sat on the desk. "You going to bar Miss Amabelle from seeing me like you did with Marshal Strothers? I wouldn't count on it working, Mr. Egan."

"What I count on is your discretion, not my sister's.
Miss
Marly."

Chapter 14

Marly only betrayed her shock for a moment. As Egan's polite smile broadened into one of triumph, she knew she'd lost the high ground.

"I think you've made a mistake, Mr. Egan."

He moved around the desk, closing the gap between them and stopping no more than a foot away. He breathed in deeply as if sniffing out her femininity.

"Have I?" His voice purred like a cat. "I don't think so, though you play the part of a young man very well." He reached out and smoothed a stray curl that had escaped her braid.

Marly sidestepped away from him and went to the stove. She stirred up the flames and added a piece of wood, keeping the poker in hand.

"I don't know why you're masquerading," he said. "I'm not sure I want to know. The point is, a man doesn't come to feel toward a boy what I feel for you."

She turned. "And what do you feel, Mr. Egan?"

"I wasn't sure before tonight. The idea you might not be a boy seemed far-fetched. Then Strachan announced that you weren't coming to the social and I smelled a rat. It was more than that." There was an odd tension in his voice. "I recognized my feelings for you. I had to be right. I had to know if there were breasts beneath those boy's clothes."

She dropped the poker, the sound startling them both.

Marly recovered first and gave Egan a long, hard stare. He had stepped over the line. What she saw in his eyes flustered her and made her blush. No one had ever looked at her like that. It was both flattering and frightening.

She turned away, covering her confusion with the mundane task of cleaning the pot of old grounds and refilling it.

"Would you like some coffee, Mr. Egan?" She kept her voice devoid of emotion.

"Thank you. What I'd really like is for you to stop calling me Mr. Egan. My name is Matthew. My friends call me Matt."

She shook her head.

After that, Egan kept a respectable distance.

Once the coffee was brewing, Marly took down her carbine and made a show of checking and topping up the magazine. Ignoring Egan, she sat at the desk, her leg propped on a drawer in a characteristically unladylike pose.

Egan pulled a chair around. "Does Strachan know?"

"He doesn't act as though he does. I think he accepts that if I dress like a boy and people think I'm a boy, then that's how I want to be treated." She eyed him. "If he knows, then he's too honorable to take advantage."

He snickered. "That's telling me off." He leaned back, adopting a more casual tone. "Will you tell me why the disguise then?"

"It's safer. I've travelled as far on my own as with Ranger Strachan. When I first set out, I figured I'd attract less attention travelling alone as a boy. It's easier too. I may be a girl, Mr. Egan, but I'm not much of a lady."

"You may not be a lady, but you're one hell of a woman."

Marly locked the breach in place less gently than usual.

"Despite the disguise," he added, leaning toward her. "I don't know why you are taking part in this charade, but you must have a very good reason. I only wish you would trust me with it."

"Thank you, Mr. Egan," she said as steadily as she could manage. "I do appreciate your faith. I would appreciate it more if you keep this to yourself. While I am in Fortuna, I must continue to be Mr. Marly Landers."

"And after? How long do you intend to keep playing this role? As interesting as this is, I look forward to seeing you in your petticoats. You make a very attractive boy. I do believe you'll be a beauty as a girl. I'm anxious to be proved right and you must be anxious to drop the pretense. You say it's easier, but it's hardly natural."

She scowled. "I am Deputy Landers until Ellery Strothers' murderer is brought to justice. Then the Ranger and I have business in El Paso."

"And then?"

The door opened and Jase walked in, saddle over his shoulder.

Marly breathed a sigh of relief. She stood, still holding the rifle, and checked on the coffee. At no time did she entirely turn her back on Egan. She trusted Jase observed this and would treat the situation with caution.

"What brings you here, Mr. Egan?" he asked.

Egan stood. "My horse."

Marly detected the unspoken challenge in his voice and body language. It was one thing to let the Texas Ranger play marshal. It was another for him to question Fortuna's leading citizen on a personal matter. The tension was so great she almost cocked the rifle when Egan pulled aside his jacket.

Jase didn't react, however.

Egan removed a small parcel from an inside pocket. "I wanted to make some compensation to Deputy Landers for having to miss the party."

He stepped toward her, holding out the package. Since her hands were full, he had to settle for placing it on the desk. Then he paused for a response.

"Thanks," she said.

That was clearly less than he wanted from her.

Egan turned his attention to Jase. "Marshal, could you grant me a small favor? Could you stretch your rules so you and Marly could join me and mine for dinner Sunday night?"

"I think I can find someone to mind the office for the evenin'."

"Good." Egan gave Marly a brief smile. "Then I'll be off. See you in church."

She watched as Jase locked the door and shuttered the windows for the night. He took her carbine from her slackened hold and put it on the rack under his.

Finally, she moved. She poured the coffee, her hand shaking as she passed Jase his cup. He steadied her hand in his, then took the cup and put it aside.

"Figures you wouldn't wait for me to get back before makin' coffee."

Coffee was the least of their worries.

"Sit down before you fall down," he ordered.

He pushed the package toward her. Then he sat down in the seat Egan had vacated.

"What happened?"

Marly took a deep breath. "Egan knows I'm not a boy."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

It was hard to tell how Jase was taking the news. He wouldn't meet her eyes. Instead, he risked a sip of the coffee she'd brewed. His expression said he was prepared for the worst.

"This ain't terrible."

"Fred gave me some pointers."

Jase took another sip.

"Well," he said after a moment, "Egan's not stupid and he's a hell of a lot more observant than most. Does he know I know?"

"He asked. I was evasive. I told him you treated me like the boy I pretended to be."

He let out a sharp laugh and she winced. He reached out for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, as if to say he was laughing at himself, not her.

That isn't much better, she thought. She hated it when he started chastising his own behavior. It was as if he didn't acknowledge it had been her choice.

"What about the party?" she asked. "Anything happen?"

"Baker left early. I thought he might try and pay you a visit, so I followed him." He shook his head. "He went straight home."

"You think he arranged Strothers' murder too, don't you?"

"Yep."

"There's a quiet evil about the man. He frightens Amabelle."

"Didn't frighten you though, did he?"

She searched his face. "I didn't back down when he was trying to intimidate us. Kate O'Brian tried to stand up to him too, though poor Amabelle trembles every time he comes near her."

"I noticed."

"I didn't do anything reckless or inappropriate. Honest."

"I trust you." He gestured toward the cells. "Did Egan say anything about those two?"

"No. Should he have? They aren't his men."

"He's probably the only one in a fifty-mile radius who hasn't heard by now," he replied. "You're starting to get yourself a reputation. If he knew you had locked those two up, he would've had a few words with Baker, but they hardly spoke tonight. And I'm sure Egan would have said something to you about putting yourself in danger like that."

"It's my job."

Jase shook his head. "It's
my
job."

She didn't point out that he had made it her job too. She didn't want to give him any ideas about taking away her badge.

She leaned back in the chair. "You think Tyson and Parker were under orders?"

"Could be. Hard to say. Tyson's mean enough to do it for spite, but that doesn't mean he wasn't encouraged. Parker's just his shadow. I'm hoping he's scared enough to tie Locke to whoever hired him."

"Baker," she asserted.

"Egan ain't clear yet," he said, his tone suggesting he wasn't too pleased at how easily she dismissed Matt Egan as a suspect.

"Egan doesn't hire the kind of men you'd think of as cold-blooded killers," he added. "That don't mean he wouldn't use Baker's hands."

Marly hid a grin.

There were times when Jase laid on his Texas drawl with a trowel, just for effect. Other times, like now, it came out because he was dead tired.

"I'll buy that Egan might have wanted Strothers out of the way," she said. "He is just as ruthless as Baker in his way. Still, Egan doesn't strike me as the type who'd get someone else to do his dirty work. He'd want to best Strothers personally. Baker, on the other hand, wouldn't rely on besting the man. He backed down to me, after all."

Jase was suddenly alert. "He was gonna draw on you? I thought Amabelle was exaggerating."

"If she said he was about to draw his gun, yes she was exaggerating. If she just said Baker looked like he wanted to kill me, she was correct. He was trying to intimidate me, that's all."

Jase rubbed his eyes. "Now he's jealous of you."

That had been her intention.

"I don't like it," he said. "But I did my best to encourage the rumor at the party while letting Amabelle know your interest was brotherly." His mouth turned down in a scowl. "Unless something else comes along, I guess it's the only way to tie Baker to the murder. I could arrest Locke tomorrow on what we got. There's no guarantee he'd let himself be taken. Less that he'd implicate Baker. 'Sides, without a motive, the charge might not stick anyway."

"I figured as much."

Jase stared at the package. "What did Egan bring you?"

Marly opened the paper and revealed a squished piece of chocolate cake. She stuck her finger in the icing and tasted it. Her nose wrinkled slightly. She pushed it away. "Too sweet."

"Ironic, ain't it?" Jase said, looking into his coffee cup. "Baker is jealous of you because of Amabelle, but it's her brother showing real interest in you."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Why did he have to bring that up again?

When she opened her eyes, he was gazing at her, his expression every bit as intense and almost as frightening as Egan's had been. For the first time since they met, she realized how tightly Jase kept himself reined in. She wished he wouldn't. She wished he didn't have to. She wished she had the nerve to hang it all and throw herself into his arms.

For Jase, she would be happy to be a woman.

What she had told Egan was true. Since Strothers' murder was unsolved and they were in Fortuna, she had to remain Mr. Marly Landers. After that, she had to settle with Charlie Meese. Then, if Jase was still interested...

She tucked away the thought.

"You look beat," she said. "Why don't you get ready for bed? I'll wash up the cups and take a last look in on our prisoners. I imagine they're passed out from boredom by now."

"I'll check on the prisoners," he countered. "Leave the cups for the morning and you get ready for bed. I'm gonna sit a spell and have another drop of your not so bad coffee. I'll be in soon."

She didn't argue.

In their private quarters, Marly washed and undressed. She looked at Jase's bed and wonder what would happen if he found her in it. Folding down the covers, she sat on the edge. It was a narrow bed. Still, there might be room enough. He would have to hold her close, but that didn't bother her.

No. More likely he would sleep on the cot.

She stood, smoothed his sheets and fluffed his pillow before retiring to her own bed.

What had been quietly circulating at the Egan social was common knowledge by Sunday morning. Everybody knew how Tom Tyson, backed up by Roy Parker, had made a play for Deputy Landers. Not only had Landers taken care of Parker without firing a shot, to hear Birke tell it, the young man didn't need any help with Tyson either, though both Duke and Birke had been ready to stand by the young deputy.

Jase and Marly heard the rumors via Hank, who stopped at the office at first light.

Gabe Baker, who was hardly a fan of Landers to start with, came very close to losing his temper. No one thought he put Tyson and Parker up to the job, but there were a few well-meaning folks who suggested he should be more careful about the kind of men he hired. Baker's temper wasn't improved when Egan pulled him aside Sunday morning, telling Baker he held him partly responsible for Tyson and Parker's actions.