Under a Texas Star (22 page)

Jase reported the results of his questioning to Marly over beans and bacon the next morning. She was up and dressed, slowly lifting and flexing her bruised leg to keep it from stiffening. Fred had come by earlier to apply more liniment and replace the flannel bandages with fresh ones. As a result, her knee had limited mobility and the smell from her bandages was eye-watering.

"There has to be a hearin'," he said. "Until Locke is caught, there's not much more we can do."

"How long do you think it'll take for the hearing?"

"I'm settin' it for Sunday, after church. It'll be held at the hotel. Troy Riley and the men should be back by then, with or without Locke. Everyone who is able will be in town. Justice will be seen. If you can wait that long, we'll head out for El Paso Monday mornin'."

"I can wait." She moved her wounded leg and let out a small groan. "To be honest, as long as Egan stays out of my way, I don't mind staying in Fortuna a little longer. It'll give my leg a chance to heal. I just hope Charlie doesn't pick up that package and move on before I get there."

Jase grinned. "Now that's where knowin' a Texas Ranger can come in handy. I wired El Paso and made sure that Meese can't pick up that parcel without you. He'll just have to kick his heels 'til we get there."

Marly rewarded him with a quick smile that made him want to please her more.

"I think I can keep Egan busy too," he said, "if you don't mind takin' care of things 'til I get back. I've told him he can't go through Baker's papers 'til I have a chance to look at them. I'll send word to meet me at the Baker house this afternoon. If you think you're up to resumin' your duties, Deputy Landers."

"I can do that, Marshal Strachan."

He eyed her leg and wrinkled his nose.

Time for some fresh air.

Nelly brought three bowls of chili and a basket of biscuits at noon. Marly thanked her and dug into the food before it hit the desk. Being injured certainly didn't affect her appetite.

"You going to give Tyson a bowl?" she asked Jase.

He rewarded Tyson's lack of cooperation by eating the man's share and offering him a biscuit and stale coffee afterwards.

Before leaving for Baker's place, Jase gave Tyson a fierce glare. "I'll show you seven kinds of hell if you cause trouble for my deputy while I'm gone. Understand?"

Tyson gave a nod.

After Jase left, Marly settled down with
Pride and Prejudice
.

Mid afternoon, Fred came by with Señora de Vegas.

"We'll look after the office so you can do your patrol," the Señora offered.

"But please take things slowly," Fred warned after checking her bandages.

As it turned out, Marly didn't have much choice. Her leg was stiff and the tight bandages slowed her down.

Then there were all the people who stopped her to talk.

Giving credit where credit was due, Jase had been scant on details when relaying their run-in with Baker and the others to the townspeople. It was Birke's report that had raised her to heroic status. Before leaving town with the posse, he had confided in Duke and a couple of cronies about what he saw when he went to fetch the bodies.

He had investigated Baker's body first. From the wound, he deduced that Marly had not only shot the man, but killed him with a single bullet to the head while lying on the ground. The shot would have been tricky even in broad daylight, let alone in the dark. And Marly did it trapped under a dead horse.

It was the bar incident magnified by ten.

After Birke's departure, his story was repeated and embellished, until Marly was being called 'the man of the hour.'

She couldn't wait until her hour was up.

Under the watchful eye of Matt Egan, Jase sifted through Baker's personal papers and accounts, building his own picture of Gabe Baker. He was looking for hard evidence of Baker paying Locke to kill Strothers. Unsurprisingly, there was no ledger notation saying,
"Paid to Locke for services rendered."

The letters he received indicated he was a generous friend and an implacable rival. According to the accounts, the man paid fair wages and was a canny businessman. Instead of appointing a secundo, Baker spread management of his ranch between a handful of men who were paid extra for the responsibility. Birke, for instance, was Ranch Maintenance Boss. There was the Home Farm Boss. There were a couple of field bosses in charge of the stock. And there were men out on the range.

Finally, there was Locke.

Not long after Strothers took up his post in Fortuna, Locke had been listed with the managers.

There was no mention of what he managed.

Not exactly conclusive evidence, Jase realized, but interesting. It was about the only interesting thing he found before giving up and riding back to town.

Mick Riley stopped Marly on the street.

"Deputy, you must tell me what really happened."

"I wonder how your son and the posse are getting along," she said, changing the topic. "Let's hope they find Locke."

The man agreed and she moved on.

At the Stage Office, Mr. Dunstan, who had never exchanged more than a handful of words with her, was suddenly interested in her health. He gave plenty of advice for ensuring that no permanent damage was done to her leg.

"Before settling in Fortuna," he told her, "I rode shotgun on the stage and had my fair share of work-related injuries."

At the general store, she bumped into Mrs. Temple-Quinton, who was very curious about Marly's adventure and would have kept her there all afternoon if her daughter hadn't distracted her.

Marly tipped her hat to Rose as she beat a hasty exit.

Mr. Penrod, the butcher, had some sausages he was prepared to part with for a very reasonable sum. He held the package ransom as he confirmed the details of Marly's Sunday night rendezvous with Gabriel Baker. Knowing they had plenty of provisions, she would have left the butcher and his sausages if she hadn't been schooled by Aunt Adele on the importance of good manners.

Before carrying on, Marly stopped in at the Marshal's Office. Fred and the Señora were playing chess and conversing quietly until they noticed Marly.

"Just checking on the prisoner," she said.

Tyson was asleep, so she left them to their game.

In The Haven, Duke set her up with coffee. Grateful, she sat down for a quiet half hour. The place was almost empty. Most of the regulars were working or had been rounded up by Birke for the posse.

After a lengthy silence, Duke asked, "How's Jed doing?"

"I'm told he's resting well. I'm going by there later. I'll let him know you were asking after him."

"He's a good kid."

"I think Marshal Strachan might have come to the same conclusion."

Duke nodded, satisfied.

"Has he got family around here?" she asked.

"Nope. He's a farm boy from Kansas. Left home to become a cowboy."

"I started off on a farm in Kansas. What about Tyson?"

"Came to Texas, like most of 'em looking for adventure. He's a better ranch hand than McKinley, but he's a bully. The Double-Diamond and Slashed-Bars wouldn't take him. Mr. Baker isn't that fussy. He likes
―
liked
―his men rough and tough."

"Birke is with the Baker outfit," she pointed out.

Duke chuckled. "Don't let that hangdog face fool you. Hugh Birke is plenty tough. Just smarter about it."

"You won't find me showing Mr. Birke any disrespect," she said. "H
e strikes me as an honorable man. And I believe you when you say he's smart and tough."

"He's all that. So was Gabe Baker most times."

When Jase headed out again after breakfast on Thursday, Marly was left to watch Tyson, read and do her rounds of the town, although instead of Fred, Arnie showed up to mind Tyson. He pulled out the checker board and drafts with the intention of entertaining the prisoner.

In the afternoon, Troy Riley and Birke reported to Marly that Locke had beaten them to Mexico, slipping past the Texas Rangers that patrolled the border. She thanked the gentlemen for their services and accepted Troy's badge, allowing him to go home or report to Mr. Winters, as he willed.

"Do I get to go home too?" Birke asked.

"Marshal Strachan told me specifically to let Mr. Riley go. He knew Mr. Winters would need him. He left you to my discretion."

"Uh-huh?"

"Thing is," she drawled, "I have a bone to pick with you."

He gave her a look that encompassed trail weariness, mild surprise and amusement.

"Oh, sit down, Mr. Birke," she said, relenting. "Coffee?"

He accepted a mug. "What have I done to piss you off, Deputy Landers?"

"You made my life a bit complicated telling everyone how I killed Baker with one shot in the dark and so on. Everyone thinks I'm damn hero."

"You are. Now, me, I'm just a ranch hand
―a job I should return to."

He started to take off his badge.

Marly raised her hand. "No, Mr. Birke, you are still a deputy. Marshal Strachan thinks I need help and I choose you."

Birke narrowed his eyes. "Why me?"

"I trust you. The marshal trusts you."

He
sighed and she knew she had him.

"If you can come back for an hour to let me do the afternoon rounds, I won't impose on you further," she assured him. "Marshal Strachan arranged for you to have a room at the hotel while you were in town."

Birke's grim look relaxed. "You eaten?"

"Not yet. I was about to fix some lunch."

"You feed me and let me wash up, I'll stick with you 'til the marshal returns. I could use a clean shirt, but if you can live with the smell, I guess I can."

She wrinkled her nose. "Go to the hotel. The marshal took the liberty of fetching some of your stuff from the Baker place. I'll have lunch ready when you return."

Jase rode into town as the sun was casting an orange glow on the church steeple. He let Hank take care of Grandee and went straight to the office, hoping there was hot coffee waiting for him. He was greeted by the smell of coffee, stew and fresh biscuits.

Even more welcoming was the quick smile that came to Marly's face when he walked in.

Then he noticed Birke. The man spared him a quick glance before staring at the chess board on the desk.

"I resign," Birke announced, tipping over his King. To Jase, he said, "Landers tells me you want me to hold onto this badge for a couple of days." He fingered the piece of tin on his shirt. "Seeing as the boss isn't in any state to fire me over it, I figure I can help out for a bit."

"Birke has stuck around most of the afternoon," Marly said. "He even cooked chicken stew. We saved you some."

"Smells good. How's the prisoner?"

Birke and Marly exchanged glances and pulled almost identical expressions of distaste.

"He's...grumpy," Marly said diplomatically.

"He's a foulmouthed sonuvabitch," Birke muttered. "He quieted down fast enough when we told him he wasn't gonna get supper until he shut up. I think the smell of fresh biscuits did the trick."

Marly grinned at Birke. "My biscuits, your stew."

Jase clenched his hands, struggling to remain calm.

"You look tired and you must be hungry," she said.

As she stood, Birke patted her arm. "Stay put, Landers. Rest that leg of yours. I'll get the marshal a plate."

"I can serve myself," Jase said dryly. "You can call it a night, Birke. If you can be back here tomorrow afternoon, I'd be obliged."

"Suits me." The man grabbed his hat and waved it at Marly. "I expect a rematch, Landers."

"You're on."

"You and Birke seem mighty cozy," Jase said when Birke was gone.

Marly shrugged. "We get along fine. I'm sure Miz Jezebel is happy I won't be stealing Fred from her twice a day."

"She was a bit put out."

"Well, I'll miss conversing with Fred. He has been telling me about you."

Jase sank into the other chair. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. It's nice to know you weren't always this squared away, trail-wise. You were young, foolish and made mistakes."

"Still do."

"I hope you don't still think I'm a mistake?"

"Never a mistake. A whim, maybe."

Marly grabbed a stray shell casing that had lodged between a weighted stack of papers and an ink well.

"Or an error in judgment," he teased. "A morally questionable decision."

She whipped the shell at him. He caught it deftly.

"But never a mistake. At least, not one I regret."

Chapter 17

Jase stayed in town Friday morning. Though not a pay week, Friday was a big banking day for merchants. Also, Jed McKinley was discharged by the doctor and moved to the jail. He was given his own cell, since Tyson was inclined to want to kill him.

Jase was tempted to leave the prisoners unattended.

He and Marly took turns patrolling Main Street and keeping Tyson in line until Birke joined them after lunch. Then he rode out to wrap up his investigation of Baker and his men.

Jase had to give Baker his due. Until Marly had pushed him, the man had played it cool and close to the chest. No one but Locke knew about the killing of Strothers. Only a couple of men knew that their boss had asked about Locke's background before giving him a promotion.

Without the urging of their new boss, Matthew Egan, the ranch hands wouldn't have revealed what Baker knew about Locke. Now Jase knew that Locke was a former enforcer for a Boston gang leader. The man had headed west to escape the life, but he could never quite get away from his past profession.

Locke had been a killer for hire. And Baker used him.

At the end of the day, Jase thanked Egan for his help.

"If you really want to show your gratitude," Egan snapped, "take that deputy badge away from Marly Landers. It isn't safe."

"Can't do that, Mr. Egan. I need Landers. Don't worry. I always take care of my deputies."

Saturday morning, Marly slept late. Her leg had given her a bad night. It was looking a lot better and she could get around fine during the day, but it seemed the better her days were, the worse the pain was at night. Or maybe it was because Fred stopped coming by with laudanum in the evening.

There was coffee in the pot. The first mouthful was so bitter that shivers ran down her back. She forced down a couple more gulps, then dumped the remainder out the door and started a fresh pot.

"Hey!" Tyson called from the cells. "Who's out there? When the hell do we get breakfast?"

Marly poked her head around the heavy door that separated the office from the cells. "You might want to try that greeting again."

"Shee-it, it's the snot-nosed deputy," Tyson jeered.

"Shut up," Jed McKinley said, his voice tired.

She guessed his night wasn't any more comfortable than hers.

"My belly's eating a hole in me," Tyson whined. "Strachan said we'd get breakfast hours ago."

"One hour ago," McKinley corrected. "If that. Though I could go for some of that coffee I've been smelling."

"I'm making a fresh pot," she said. "Breakfast won't take much longer."

She had biscuits, bacon and beans ready by the time Jase returned to the office. McKinley was drinking his coffee. She'd told Tyson he'd get his with breakfast. If he was lucky.

"That smells good," Jase said, eying the plates.

"Good timing. I'd rather I had backup when I give Tyson his food. He's not exactly a model prisoner."

Jase gave a dissatisfied grunt but didn't say anything as he followed her to the cells. McKinley was polite and appreciative. Tyson was unnaturally silent. When she turned back to the door she saw why. Jase had his hand on his sidearm. His narrowed eyes and grim sneer said, "Just give me a reason."

It gave her a warm feeling knowing he had her back.

Back in the office, they ate breakfast in companionable silence. When the sauce and bacon grease had been mopped up with their last bites of biscuit, Jase made a startling announcement.

"I'm givin' you the rest of the day off. I've got Birke comin' in."

"But I've got reports to file. And there's our laundry. Fred picked it up yesterday afternoon."

"Yeah, and he told me last night that you were pushin' yourself too much. You need to rest up for the ride to El Paso."

"I don't want to spend any more time in bed."

"Not bed rest, just a day off."

She waved a hand over the pile of dishes. "You sure you don't want me
―"

"Want you, yes. Need you, no. Not today."

A hot flush settled over her cheeks as she gaped at him.

He flicked her chin with his thumb. "Go. The day's your own, but Fred's expectin' you for lunch. Best wash up and put on a clean shirt."

Marly disappeared
into their quarters, pressing her back against the door and contemplating his odd choice of words.

"Want you, yes."

Did he really want her? In what way?

As she cleaned up, Marly discovered she was out of clean shirts. She considered buying one, but it was a frivolous expense. Instead, she decided to see if their laundry was done, before reporting to Fred.

With a quick goodbye to Jase, she left for The Oasis.

"I am very sorry, Deputy Landers," Henry said with great formality, "but your laundry isn't quite dry yet. However, it should be ready after your bath."

"My bath?"

"Marshal Strachan made arrangements with Mr. Fred for you to have the use of room five for the day, including a bath. I believe hot water is available now. Mr. Fred is expecting you for lunch in the garden." He gave her a low bow.

When they reached the second floor, he dropped the stiff formality. "I've been promoted. I served Miss Jezebel's breakfast this morning."

Marly congratulated him.

Henry left her with a hot tub of water, fresh towels, fresh clothes and the promise that no one would be allowed to disturb the deputy on his watch. She took advantage of the time to take a long and glorious bath.

She was considering taking a short nap when there was a pounding at the door.

"Marly!"

It was Matt Egan.

Now she had a serious problem
―besides the fact that she was buck naked. It wasn't enough to scramble into her clothes. She had to dress properly to hide her true gender.

But he knows, she reminded herself.

Though Egan
had
already worked out her secret, she wasn't about to let her guar
d down or show him he was right.

"Mr. Egan, please," she heard Fred say. "We do not appreciate you disturbing guests of The Oasis."

Egan growled something Marly couldn't make out.

"Allow me to escort you downstairs," Fred said. "Then I will ascertain if
Master
Landers is available to join you for coffee."

During the lengthy pause, Marly dressed. When a discrete tap sounded on the door, she was ready to open it.

Fred entered and bolted the door behind him.

"You know that he knows, right?" she said.

"And he knows that I know," Fred replied. "He also knows what I will do if he jeopardizes your charade. I considered telling him what Master Jason would do, but Mr. Egan is not the sort of man to fear death."

"What
you
would do?" she repeated.

"Nothing I can describe to a lady." He winked.

Dropping all pretense of being anything but a woman, Marly reached for Fred's hand and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said. "I am so glad I have you."

He blushed. "I know how we can get rid of Mr. Egan. You stay here."
A mysterious expression crossed his face.

"You have another idea, don't you?" she asked. "Something more suitable for
Deputy Landers
?"

Fred grinned.

After years of lacking a father-figure in her life, Marly suddenly felt she'd found one―and a smart one, at
that.

The rule about leaving all guns at the bar did not apply to lawmen, so Marly was fully equipped when she descended the stairs. Her gun belt was slung low on her hips, her hat was at a rakish angle and there was a lady of the house on her arm.

Angela, with whom Marly had worked in Louis' kitchen, was dressed for the evening in a low cut, high-hemmed gown that showed off a pair of elegant ankles. She parted with Marly at the bottom of the stairs, giving her a seductive smile.

Marly couldn't help blushing, but she managed to say, "Thank you, ma'am," without giggling.

One glance at Egan told her he was livid and embarrassed by his assumption that Marly was female.

With a swagger, she crossed the room, secure in the knowledge that her burning face wasn't out of place on a young man caught in this situation. The smattering of patrons threw her appreciative and amused glances.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Egan," she said, tipping her hat, "but this is my day off."

As she sat, Fred brought coffee.

"I need to talk to you," Egan said, impatience clipping his words.

"Go ahead, Mr. Egan."

"Not here."

Marly sipped her coffee. "Anything you can't say here, you probably shouldn't say."

"I don't like the way you set my friend up, Deputy Landers."

She wasn't expecting that.

"I know that you used my sister to make Gabe jealous," Egan said. "Your intentions toward her were not serious, though you did protect her from Gabe's inappropriate advances. For that I thank you."

Marly hitched up her gun belt. "You're putting the cart before the horse, Mr. Egan. I protected Miss Amabelle from Baker's advances and then realized that he might have been responsible for her last suitor's death. It's true I made myself a target, but only when Baker was present. My behavior toward your sister when he wasn't around was merely friendly."

"So she says. Always the gentleman."

Marly didn't rise to the bait.

"I always tried." Taking pity on the man, she added, "Your friend was obsessed with your sister. I know the Gabriel Baker you knew was a
good friend but given the chance I think he would have taken Miss Amabelle by force. If that had happened, it would have been you―not me―that ended Baker's life."

When Egan didn't reply, she took refuge in her coffee. Without warning, he reached for her h
and and she leaned back in the chair, holding the cup close to her chest like a shield.

"Hey, Landers, can I buy you a beer?"

Birke's shout across the saloon startled Marly and she slopped coffee on her clean shirt.

Swearing softly, she yelled, "Good question. Can you?"

"I think I can scrape together the coins," Birke replied.

Several chuckles flitted across the room.

Relieved to have the tension broken, Marly gave Egan a polite nod and took her coffee to the bar.

"The marshal says you're off duty 'til tomorrow," Birke said, sliding a glass of beer in her direction. "He warned me to keep you from getting drunk and disorderly." He punctuated his last remark with a slap on Marly's back.

She was glad she'd already put down her coffee cup.

Arnie refused Birke's money. "Deputy Landers' entertainment today is on the house."

To cover her embarrassment, Marly took a mouthful of beer and almost spat it out. It was all she could do to swallow it. The beer reminded her of the time Aunt Adele washed her mouth out with soap.

"It's an acquired taste," Birke said, grinning at her. "Strachan told me you had a teetotaler for an aunt."

She took a more cautious sip and shuddered. It was bitter and slightly soapy tasting, but it did feel good going down. On the whole, she preferred brandy-laced coffee.

When Egan left, Marly gave a sigh of relief.

To her surprise, so did Birke.

"We got word Egan was harassing you," he admitted, lowering his voice. "The marshal thought there might be a confrontation if he came over. He sent me to help you shake him off. You looked like you were handling things okay."

"I think so. I was still glad to see you. So, what now?"

"I got rounds to do and Fred looks like he wants your attention. How 'bout dinner later? Strachan suggested as much."

The way he invoked Jase's name made Marly wonder if Birke had figured things out.

"I think Deputy Landers has got enough credit at The Oasis to cover a couple of steak dinners," Arnie said. "I'll let Fred know."

Marly figured Jase and Fred had planned the dinner as another way to protect her from Egan. She would have preferred Jase's company, but understood his choice to stay out of it.

There had been enough killing in Fortuna.

Fred beckoned her to the kitchen and led her through to the gazebo where Señora de Vegas was waiting for them. The Señora wore a new cotton dress that made her look years younger. Fred was in shirtsleeves, a radical departure for him. It didn't make him look any younger, but it did make him seem more approachable.

"Come, Señor Landers," the Señora called. "Louis has made a special lunch for us. He was fretting you would sleep through it."

Marly was mystified. "What's this all about?"

"Señorita Jezebel has planned a special party for after the hearing tomorrow."