Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (15 page)

The novels and newspapers said he’d gunned down nearly two dozen men. Who was he to tear down their castles in the sky, especially when those fantasies delivered the respect he craved? Truth was, he’d killed only six. Five, if he didn’t count the gap-toothed boy in Durango who, when Frank had caught him eavesdropping as he and the boys had been planning their next heist, had jumped from the second-floor window of a hotel. One less loose end. Frank hated loose ends.

He didn’t like the unsettled feeling roiling in his gut, either. According to Ben, the Rangers had left without Kate, meaning she probably hadn’t told them anything. The only logical reason he could come up with was that the shame of having been touched by the notorious Frank Michaels outweighed her fear of what he might do if he caught up with her.

He did his best to overlook the disappointment and hurt that notion aroused and focused instead on the thought that if that’s how she felt, he might just have caught a lucky break.

Then, he remembered what she’d said before he’d passed out on the night she’d run off: “Someday, you’ll pay for every evil thing you’ve done, Frank Michaels. It could be tomorrow, or next year, or even ten years from now, but you will pay.” He’d laughed it off at the time. But with the memory of her words, Frank also remembered the conviction gleaming in her enormous eyes.

He might have caught a lucky break, but she might just wake up one morning and decide that today was the day he’d pay.

Frank didn’t want to kill her now any more than he had on the night of the San Antonio bank robbery, but what other choice had she left him?

He pulled a silver dollar from the pocket of his trousers. Oh, how he loved the way it caught the light as he turned it heads up, tails up. Holding it like an auction paddle, he gave it a little wave, then tossed it to Ben, watching as it flipped end over end before being swallowed up by the man’s free hand.

“Consider that payment for your nonproductive Eagle Pass tip.” Before Ben could accept or reject the offer, Frank said, “Now, I’ve got a tip for you.”

The man’s scowl lessened when he heard the unmistakable sound of Frank’s pistol, cocking under the table. “If you want to live to see your next birthday in October, you might want to return that Colt to its holster, friend.”

Moments later, once Ben was gone, the piano player resumed his tune, and the bartender started splashing rye and beer into the glasses of the men who’d come back inside. Laughter mingled with the sounds of cards being shuffled and the saloon hall girls’ skirts swishing. The near-fatal incident seemed all but forgotten in every mind, except for that of the man who sat quietly with his back to the wall, playing solitaire and calculating how many banks, stagecoaches, and trains he could rob between Kansas City, Missouri, and Eagle Pass, Texas.

18

Meester Neville, he try to get fireworks,” Lucinda said, handing Kate a fresh basket of mending, “but just like last year, he realize it is imposible.”

Kate continued her darning as George frowned. “You will wear out the poor chica’s fingers,” he told his wife. “Where you find all these shirts with no buttons and skirts with torn hems?”

“In the laundry basket,” she said matter-of-factly.

He responded with a resigned sigh, then smiled at Kate. “One of these years, Meester Neville will order those fireworks, and the train, she will bring them. Is good that he never gives up, no?”

She started to nod when Lucinda got up and left the parlor, waving both hands beside her dark-haired head, muttering, “Men, siempre los soñadores. Why not be happy with what they have instead of wishing for el imposible?”

“There is a difference, mi amor, between dreaming and hoping. What can it hurt to dream a little more, anyway?” George plopped his floppy-brimmed hat onto his head. “But all in good time, sí? All in good time.” From the doorway, he added, “Maybe you should not try so hard to keep up with the sewing, or my Lucinda really will wear your fingers to nubs!”

On the heels of a good-natured laugh, he left her to thread her needle, and from out of nowhere, a tall, good-looking cowboy stepped up beside her and held out his hand, startling her so badly she nearly pricked her finger again.

“I was in San Arroyo when you arrived the other day. Been busy on the river acres ever since. Name’s Daniel,” he added when she took it, “but mostly, they call me Dan around here.” He winked conspiratorially and whispered, “And you can wipe that confuzzled look off your face. Soñadores means ‘dreamers.’”

His mustache grazed her knuckles as he kissed her hand, and then he gently let go.

She watched him ease onto the sofa across from her. “You’re a man of many talents, I see.”

It was his turn to look confused.

“You move like a cat,” she said, to answer his unspoken question, “and you’re a mind reader, to boot.”

Dan shot her a crooked grin.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Dan. I’m K-Dinah—Dinah Theodore.” Would she ever get used to calling herself that?

“So, how’d you hurt your foot?”

“I’m ashamed to admit it to a rancher, of all people, but I fell off a horse.”

“Ah,” he said, “I guess you didn’t see me wobble into the room.”

“I didn’t see or hear you! Perhaps you ought to put bells on your boots.”

Dan stood up and walked back and forth between her hassock and the sofa to show her his limp. She couldn’t bear to ask if the hitch in his step was caused by pain or permanent damage to his leg. “How’d you hurt your foot?” But even as she asked the question, Kate knew he’d injured more than just his foot.

He perched on the arm of the sofa. “Well,” he drawled, “I hate to admit this, being a rancher and all, but I fell off a horse.”

He smiled when he said it, and yet Kate sensed an underlying despair to go with his story.

Nodding, Dan added, “Fell off my horse—and landed square in the middle of a stampede.”

Kate had heard stories about cattle stampedes, and the mental picture of thousands of thundering hooves—plus the imagined sound of the terrified bellows of cows and men—made her wonder how Dan had survived. If he wanted to tell her about it, she’d listen. Otherwise, she would not meddle. He had as much right to protect his secrets as she had to protect hers! Pretending to hunt for a button that matched those on the shirt in her lap, she asked, “When did it happen?”

“About three years ago.”

Her heart ached for him. She’d been off her feet and coping with the pain in her foot for only a few days. It must have been quite a fall to have left him with so pronounced a limp, three years later. “Were you laid up for very long?”

“Couple of months.” He shrugged slightly. “Broke some ribs, cracked my skull—which, they tell me, put me out like a light for almost a week—but the leg….” Dan shook his head. “The leg took the brunt of it.”

“I’m so sorry, Dan.”

“Don’t be. God has perfect timing. I was right where I needed to be when Sadie died. It gave Josh something to do, acting as my round-the-clock nursemaid.” He chuckled at the memory. “Some days, I didn’t make it easy on him, asking for this and whining about that, but it gave him a purpose, and I think that took his mind off all he’d lost, at least for a time.”

Kate didn’t know which cousin she felt sorrier for, Dan or Josh, but she wouldn’t let her pity show, for she had already figured out that pride ran deep in the Neville men.

“Now that I think of it, it happened in June, right about this time. We were moving a herd to Kansas City and were hunkered down one night when rustlers spooked the cows. It was the first time Josh wasn’t with us on a drive, and I think that’s part of the reason he threw himself into caring for me afterward.”

He’d stayed home to mourn, Kate realized, and, in that moment, it was Josh she felt sorrier for.

“Wasn’t like he could have done anything to prevent it. Except he convinced himself he’d have been where I was, and since he fancies himself a better rider….” Dan grinned slightly. “June never was my favorite month, but at least now I have a specific reason to dislike it—other than the unpredictable weather, that is.”

Kate had never given much thought to things like that. In her mind, one month was pretty much like another. It had been like that, at least, until Frank Michaels had come along.

She’d met him at the beginning of May, and he’d managed to sweep her off her feet in no time, so that, by the fifteenth of the month, it had taken nothing more than a simple invitation for ice cream to embroil her unwittingly in a plot of murder and robbery. By Sunday, May 27, she’d escaped the horrors of being held his captive, and she’d wandered into Josh’s camp on May 30. The days following that had been a blur of harsh weather and Ranger encounters, hard-riding days and cold, dark nights. And, through it all, Josh had done his best to make her feel safe and protected, right up until June 7, when they’d ridden side by side onto Lazy N land.

And here it was, June 15—one month after the haunting holdup. Kate swallowed an impatient sigh. If not for Frank, she’d be in Laredo with Etta Mae right now, shopping for a new piano and pricing glassware for the saloon. Not only would she have been spared Frank’s brutality, but she wouldn’t have needed to hide behind a phony name. Instead, she’d be traipsing around town, free as a dove, introducing herself as Kate Wellington, Etta’s singing piano player, and partaking in lively festivals and picnics, parades and Fourth-of-July fireworks displays.

Then again, she wouldn’t have met Josh.

Kate couldn’t help but think that something was fundamentally wrong with her. It couldn’t possibly be normal to conclude that going through all she had had been more than worth it because it had led up to meeting a nice cowboy.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Dan said, interrupting her reverie.

“Sorry.” She rubbed tiny circles into her temples. “I tend to be a bit of a daydreamer sometimes.”

Dan smiled. “Don’t you worry. He’ll come around.”

Had her emotions been that obvious? This time, Kate didn’t stifle her sigh. There didn’t seem to be much point in asking whom Dan was referring to, and so she didn’t.

He got to his feet. “See you at supper, then?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. It’ll be nice having a pretty face across the table to look at for a change.” He started for the hall but stopped just short of the doorway. “You ought to give George’s advice some serious consideration,” Dan said, pointing at her sewing. “You’re good at that. And fast, too. But the man is right—you keep it up at this pace, and Lucinda just might wear your fingers to nubs!”

Kate gasped with pretend shock. “Surely, you’re not suggesting that I give the work less than my best, I hope, or that I devote more time to each repair than necessary!”

“Way I heard it, you’re leaving the Lazy N as soon as that ankle of yours heals, anyway. So, you might as well just slow down. Let nature take its course, and maybe that hardheaded cousin of mine will come around before you head south.”

Kate smiled as he shuffled from the room. It seemed she could add “perceptive” after “proud” to the list of attributes of the Neville men.

19

Do you think you’re up for a ride into town?”

When Josh’s mother asked the question, common sense told Kate that her ankle hadn’t healed quite enough for her to take a long, bumpy wagon ride, but she was so flattered at the invitation that an enthusiastic “Yes!” popped impulsively from her mouth. Besides, her eyes were red and burning, her fingers stiff and sore, and her shoulders aching from days of sitting hunched over her sewing. Sometimes, she almost suspected Lucinda of deliberately removing buttons and letting out hems for the sole purpose of keeping Kate off her ankle. She couldn’t help but smile to picture the kindhearted woman scouring every bureau and wardrobe for articles of clothing to add to the pile.

“I think some time spent away from this stuffy, old house will be good for you,” Eva said. “Besides, it’ll give us a chance to get to know each other better. Just in case that boy of mine comes to his senses sometime soon.”

In case what? Kate thought. What had Josh’s mother seen or heard to make her say such a thing? But Eva Neville never gave her the chance to ask. In fact, the woman talked incessantly from the moment the buggy started rolling. Halfway to Eagle Pass, Kate’s throbbing ankle made it nearly impossible to pay close attention as Eva talked about the weather—which, according to her, was unseasonably hot, even for West Texas—and listed the stores they’d visit in sequential order.

“I’m so glad you let me talk you into wearing a proper lady’s bonnet instead of that lopsided thing you had on your pretty head when you rode in with Josh.”

Lopsided thing? Kate loved that hat! It had provided protection from the unrelenting sun and had kept the pounding rains from blinding her, and, most important, Josh had chosen it for her. She smiled a little, remembering the way he’d patiently showed her how to cinch the stampede string that encircled its brim just tightly enough so that the hat would stay on, even if the most powerful wind gusts threatened to blow it “hither and yon.” Her smile grew as she remembered those three little words that had started him laughing so hard, he’d hardly been able to breathe, and how it had taken minutes before he’d collected himself enough to tell her about how that “starched shirt of a banker” had used the phrase.