Lady Gone Bad (8 page)

Authors: Sabine Starr

BOOK: Lady Gone Bad

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Chapter 16

R
afe sat in an outhouse. Dim light slanted in through the quarter moon cut in the gray wood of the closed door. Golden light from a kerosene lantern illuminated ladies lingerie in the popular Wish Book, Montgomery Ward’s impressive 240-page, 10,000-item mail order catalog. Rafe had plenty of wishes. And, at the moment, most of them involved Lady. While he contemplated which lacy undergarment would look best on her luscious body, he listened to her splash around naked as a jaybird in a galvanized tin tub just outside a ramshackle hay barn.

She had more tricks up her sleeve than a seasoned gambler, a fact he was coming to appreciate. Once he’d made up his mind to run from the law with her, they’d ridden hard out of Paris, determined to put as much distance as possible between them and their wanted posters. Safety lay on the north side of the Red River, but with tired horses and night coming on, they’d decided to play it smart and cross the next morning. That left them in desperate need of a safe haven. Once more Lady had come through with a plan. Now they were hidden in a lonely spot just south of the Red River.

For the first time since meeting her, Rafe had a little space and time to gather his wits, strength, and focus. He wished he was using it to good purpose, but about all he could conjure up were images of Lady putting on a show in that tin tub.

She sang while a mangy bird dog howled a few octaves higher. Quite a duet. Felt like he ought to buy the dog a drink.

He couldn’t decide whether to be mad or glad. True he had more time with the most fascinating woman in the West, but on the other hand, he was up the creek in a leaky boat. He hoped he could trust Lady, at least enough to forge a trail so convoluted no lawman could follow them. He also hoped they could trust the couple who owned the place where they were hiding out. Lady had said she’d done the farmers a favor once and they’d be glad to help. Seemed they were. He sure couldn’t complain about the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, biscuits, and blackberry cobbler. He’d eaten his fill until he couldn’t hold another crumb.

The couple had given them permission to use the barn on the far side of their property, and their dog had accompanied them. He wondered how Lady could engender so much trust when she was a known outlaw. It made no sense. But since he’d met her, not a lot in his life had made any sense. Now his own face was on a wanted poster. He couldn’t hardly bear thinking of the consequences, but he must address them sooner or later. Not just yet though.

He finished his business, set the catalog aside a few pages lighter, picked up the lantern, and eased open the door. Moonlight brightened the evening. Frogs sang lustily in a nearby pond. Lightning bugs flashed on and off as they chased each other. The scent of wild flowers filled the air. It was a night made for lovers.

Even though he and Lady were on opposite sides of life, it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate her attributes. Not that he trusted her. That’d be like not heeding a rattler’s warning. Still, a man in his position would be a fool not to get help where he could find it. He’d taken the handcuffs off her, but he’d stowed them in his saddlebags next to her arrest warrant.

An evening like this reminded him of home and his sister Crystabelle. Twenty-nine now, he’d been old enough to remember fear and hunger during the Civil War, but also the warmth and security of a winter fire in a snug log cabin in the Kentucky mountains. When his father went off to war, Rafe had become the man of their small family. Half-grown with skinny arms and legs, he’d hunted, fished, chopped wood, anything to help keep them alive. They’d made it, but like so many good men, his father never came back.

Lonely and alone, his mother had insisted they follow her sister to Arkansas and then on to Texas. Both his mother and aunt had died of chickenpox. He’d been left to raise Crystabelle alone. She was three years younger than he. He’d known she needed more than he could offer, so he’d made enough money to board her at the Bonham Female Academy in Texas. She had graduated and taught there a few years before deciding to spend a week that summer in Fort Smith to be near him.

She’d never made it. Kidnapped by outlaws, she’d disappeared into the wilds of Indian Territory. No matter how hard he’d tried, he’d learned nothing more about her or the men who’d taken her. He’d planned to see if Marshal Phillips had gotten any word in Paris, but that hadn’t happened. Another reason to curse Lampkin.

What gave him hope that Crystabelle still lived was the horse. She’d either had Justice delivered to Fort Smith to let him know she was alive, or the outlaws who’d taken her had delivered the gelding as a stab in the eye. He had to find out which was the truth. She was all the family he had left. He loved her. But he felt guilty, too. If she hadn’t been coming to see him, she’d still be safe in Bonham.

Maybe this crazy wanted poster business was a blessing in disguise, putting him in a better position to find Crystabelle. Lady knew outlaws and their hideouts. If Crystabelle was being held hostage by desperados, Lady stood a good chance of leading him to his sister. Not that he was on Lady’s good side, not after arresting her. Still, he’d been known to sweet-talk a woman. If that didn’t work, threats and incentives might do the trick.

Following the lure of Lady’s voice, he walked quietly toward her, figuring she wouldn’t hear him approach while she sang.

Some old rounder come along,
Took my sugar babe and gone.
I ain’t got no sugar baby now.
No, I ain’t got no sugar baby now.

Rafe snorted, shaking his head at her words. One thing for sure, Lady would never be short of sugar.

He heard the cock of a pistol about the time he saw Lady raise her six-shooter with one hand while crossing her other arm over her naked breasts. That still left a lot of exposed flesh to tantalize a man.

Damn dog growled low in his throat, almost as threatening as Lady herself. He couldn’t decide whether to run for cover or grovel at her feet as the best thing he’d seen since Lulu the Naked Lady had emptied men’s hearts and wallets when she’d stopped off in Fort Smith on her Sensational Tour of the Wild West.

“Get your hands in the air,” Lady commanded, aiming her Colt .44 at his midsection. “And identify yourself.”

“It’s me.” Rafe raised the lantern so she could see his face. “Don’t go off half-cocked and kill me.”

She lowered her six-shooter. “Thought you’d be a while.”

“I got inspired.” He walked closer, wanting to see more.

“Did you sneak over here to ogle me?”

“Thought crossed my mind.”

“Well, stop it.”

“If you’ll share your bath, you can ogle me.”

“You’re so dirty no woman would want to share a bath with you.” She set aside the revolver, and patted the dog on his boney head.

“Some women
like
dirty.”

“Only in men’s minds.” She pointed past the dog. “Please hand me my towel. This rascal drug it off.”

Rafe wished the dog had run away with the towel. He picked it up and stood over her. With the lantern in his other hand, he could see that water lapped just under her breasts, only partially obscuring everything below. When she looked up, he followed the smooth line of her exposed throat to her full lips. Hunger burned in him like a demon. He was ready to fall to his knees if he could just get his mouth, hands, body on her.

The dog growled as if reading Rafe’s mind, and stood up in a threatening position.

“Call off your dog.” He stood his ground. Last thing he needed was a dog bite.

“You disturbed our duet. Makes a dog cranky.”

“Makes a man cranky, too.”

She chuckled, acknowledging his allusion to sex. “You seem to be getting over your sudden transformation from lawman to outlaw.”

“I’ve been distracted, what with riding hell-bent for leather, eating enough vittles to choke a horse, and listening to you warble in your bath.”

She sighed, patting the dog’s head. “Down boy.”

“Me or him?”

“Both.” She held out a hand for the towel. “I’m used to men ogling me, but normally I’m dressed and it’s business. No time for games now and you know it.”

Reluctantly, he tossed the towel to her, keeping a wary eye on the dog. Maybe he wasn’t playing games anymore. Maybe Lady had gotten so deep under his skin he’d never be free of her. He didn’t like the idea, couldn’t afford to even imagine it. He was determined to cool down, think with his mind, not his cock.

“You want to use my bathwater, or do you want fresh? I can heat some more water on the campfire, but it’ll take a while.”

She might as well have grabbed his cock and jerked hard with both hands. The idea of getting into water that had caressed her naked body, lapping at her openings, almost sent him over the edge.

He swallowed, finally able to speak. “No need. This’ll do.”

“Think so?”

“Yes.”

“Look away.”

He reluctantly averted his eyes while she got out of her bath. When he glanced back, the towel wrapped around her body only emphasized the jut of her breasts and the swell of her hips.

“If you don’t mind lavender, you can use my bar of soap. It’s on the ground. I’ll go get you one of the washrags and towels they loaned us.”

“Thanks.” He set the lantern beside the tin tub.

“Dog’ll guard you.”

“I’d feel safer if you were here with your six-shooter.” He tried to sound needy, not hard to do when he was about to bust his buttons.

She hesitated, glanced around, and then looked back at him. “I don’t think anybody can find us here, but maybe you’re right. Best to be cautious. I’ll be right back.”

He watched her sashay, barely covered by the towel, into the barn and out of sight. Dressed up in satin, some women might promise more than they could deliver. Not so with Lady. In satin or out of it, she delivered in spades.

Quickly unbuttoning and jerking off his shirt, he was as ready to get into her bathwater as he was into her bed. Maybe he could at least persuade her to wash his back.

Chapter 17

L
ady sat outside the circle of lantern light that cast Rafe in a golden glow. She had her legs tucked to one side, Colt .44 near her right hand, and the dog’s head resting on her knee. A coyote yipped in the distance, and was answered by several companions. Familiar sounds, comforting in the same way Rafe’s splashing in the water and the quiet country night soothed her, reminding her of happier times.

She’d always liked sitting with Ma and Da on the back porch of their ranch house on an evening when chores were done and night had fallen. They’d been lazy together, full of good cooking and tired from a day’s satisfying work. She could almost smell the pungent aroma of Da’s pipe and hear Ma’s knitting needles click as she knit by touch alone. Maybe a horse would snort, whinny, or kick a board in the barn, and then all would be peaceful again.

Horses.
Everybody knew Indian Territory had the best horses, stolen or otherwise. Da was good as a Comanche at breeding, raising, and training the beautiful beasts. And that was saying something since the Comanche knew horses like the back of their hands. People arrived from far and wide to buy from Da, but he was choosy about who he let lead away one of his family, for that was how he regarded every living being on the ranch.

Family.
Ma was kind to all who came her way. At home, she always had a scrap of food for a stray dog, chicken, or motherless critter. She never criticized Da when he turned away good gold for a prize horse if he thought the buyer might be mean to animals. And he never asked enough when he thought the buyer would be kind.

Home.
Ma and Da had provided enough food to eat and clothes to wear, for they gardened, raised chickens, cooked, canned, sewed, and hunted. Gold bought the extras like books, sugar, salt, shoes, metal goods, and a little extra in case of hard times.

When Lady looked back on those golden days, she couldn’t imagine how life could have been any better. They’d loved and laughed all day, every day. Sure, they’d had problems, but they’d solved them together.

Da had been training her to take over with the horses someday, but at that time she couldn’t imagine a moment when he couldn’t or wouldn’t want to work with his beloved animals. She still found it hard to believe her parents were gone. Sometimes in the dead of night she’d wake up and all would seem normal, but then the pain of their loss would wash over her. Nothing was the same, nor ever would be again.

Da had always said she’d been given a divine gift, that Epona, Goddess of Horses, spoke in her ear, and he cautioned her to never give Epona a reason to withdraw the special totem power. Ma believed Spider Grandmother had spun a web around her daughter’s throat at birth, granting the powerful medicine of a golden voice to weave and share the people’s stories. They’d impressed upon her that she had a responsibility never to squander her gifts and to always respect her totem power.

Tears filled Lady’s eyes. If Ma hadn’t been Indian, of Choctaw and French heritage, and forced West into Indian Territory . . . If Da hadn’t been American of Irish ancestry and gone West in search of freedom and land for horses ... If she hadn’t been picking blackberries when Da turned down one outlaw too many . . . If not for all those ifs that made them vulnerable, yet blessed with love and plenty, she’d still be Sharlot Eachan. She’d be a well brought up young lady, the apple of her parents’ eyes, not Lady Gone Bad, a notorious outlaw and dance hall singer.

Yet all would be worth her fall from grace if Epona helped her locate Copper’s trail, and Spider Grandmother spun a gossamer web of deception that allowed her to rescue the stallion and achieve justice. She must make it happen. She must remain free. And to achieve both, she must enlist the support of this lawman.

Deputy U.S. Marshal Rafe Morgan. She should hate him for putting her in handcuffs, making her feel vulnerable, turning her into a prisoner, trying to put her behind bars. But she didn’t hate him. She couldn’t. He had saved her life. In doing so, he’d lost the life he knew, a good life as a respected lawman.

Luck had turned in her direction. Maybe Epona, maybe Spider Grandmother, wove the magic of him, sending him into her upside-down life. With him beside her, the tables had turned and she finally had an acceptable hand to play. Play it she would.

She’d put on her new split-skirt and blouse. She felt good, clean, fresh after all the hard days on the trail. Cuts and scrapes, aches and pains didn’t matter so much now that she was well fed, clean, safe, and free.

Rafe had been the bane of her existence since she’d first met him, but if she wanted to be honest with herself, he was a surprising pleasure, too. She mustn’t let him know that fact. After all, she was the elusive Lady Gone Bad, notorious for tormenting men in Texas and Indian Territory until she got her way. One lawman on the run couldn’t be that much trouble to bring to heel.

“Rafe,” Lady said, not trusting herself to look too closely at him when he was naked a few steps away. Maybe she didn’t trust him either, not when so much boiled between them. “I want to ask—”

“How about—”

“Excuse me,” she said, “You go first.”

“A spot on my back hurts. Feels infected. But I can’t reach it.”

“You want me to wash it for you?”

“Appreciate your help.” He held out the soap and washrag.

She holstered her Colt .44, patted the dog on his head, and knelt beside the small, round tin tub. Rafe sat with his knees almost under his chin. He smelled like lavender, a scent that was surprisingly sensual on him. She wanted nothing more than to caress the hard muscles of his bare chest, run her fingers through his thick hair, burn hot kisses into his skin so he’d be branded forever.

Instead, she took the soap and washrag. “Lean forward so I can get a better look.” She wasn’t letting this excuse to touch him go to waste. “I better wash your entire back.”

“Thanks.”

She soaped up the washrag and gently rubbed the inflamed wound on his shoulder blade. As she washed his back, she felt inflammation move from him to her, causing her body to burn.

“Feels good.”

Felt good to her, too, but she had to focus on her goals, not her desires. Time was running out for Copper. She desperately needed to get their plans in place. “I wonder what you’re going to do about your wanted poster.”

“I wonder the same about you.”

“A lot rides on what we do next.” She hesitated, and then plunged ahead. “I guess my bark is worse than my bite.”

“How so?”

“I’m not really an outlaw.” She felt his back muscles tense under her hand.

“I’ve heard that before.” He started to turn toward her in the tub, but couldn’t. “Come around here where I can see your face.”

“You think I’d lie?”

“Let’s just say I want to see you.”

She set down the soap and washrag. She moved around so she faced him, lantern light on both their faces. She needed to read his expressions, too.

“Now what do you want to tell me?” Rafe asked, his eyes a steely gray.

She wished she could trust him with the complete truth, or even think that he’d believe the truth. Instead, she had to tell him something that he would hopefully accept. “Truth is, I’m riding the outlaw trail to find a young stallion that was stolen from me. His bloodline is vital for my future plans.”

“A horse?”

“Not just any horse. Copper is unique, but he’s got a problem. He’s wearing one special horseshoe to correct a hoof. He’ll outgrow that shoe soon. If it’s not changed, he’ll go lame and be put down.”

“Won’t somebody notice the horseshoe before that happens?”

“Not likely.”

“You’ve been putting your life on the line for a horse?”

“Yes. He’s family.”

“You’re willing to go to jail for this animal?”

“I can’t go to jail! He’ll be dead by the time I get out.”

“Can’t your parents, or brothers and sisters, find this horse?”

“No.” She felt tears burn in the back of her eyes, but she refused to let her pain show.

He shook his head, but didn’t say more about it. “You’ve been breaking the law.”

“Prove it.”

“You either break the law, or you don’t break the law. There’s no in-between.”

“I consort with lawbreakers. That doesn’t mean I break the law.” She struggled to find a way to reach him, to make him understand. “I’m trying to find Copper’s trail. I gather a little information here and there, among outlaws, among horse thieves.”

“You mean you sing to liquored-up men who’ll tell you anything to get and keep your attention.” His eyebrows drew together in a frown.

She looked down at the sleeping dog to control her temper, then glanced back at Rafe. “What about that Lampkin who set you up?”

He ran a hand through his wet hair. “Lampkin’s a Deputy U.S. Marshal like me, but I saw him riding with the lynch mob.”

“He shot at us?”

“Yep.” Rafe snorted in disgust. “I couldn’t believe it at first cause he’s one of Marshal Bole’s favorites. Problem is, he knows I saw him. He knows I’ll turn him in. He’s aimin’ to put the noose around my neck, not his.”

“If you’d ridden straight to Paris and not come with me—”

“I’d never have known Lampkin was working both sides of the fence.”

“But you’d be safe now. No reward on your head.”

“Figure Lampkin set that up, too.”

Lady quickly thought through her options. “I’ll help you if you’ll help me.”

“What do you want?”

“If you’ll keep me out of jail and help me find Copper, I’ll help you get the information you need to clear your name.”

“How can you do that?”

“I get information from outlaws, remember.”

Rafe rubbed his jaw, considering. “True. But if we help each other, you’ve still got to face Judge Parker.”

“Let’s make that part of our deal. Once your name is cleared and we find Copper, you can arrest the outlaw who stole my horse. After I’ve helped you, perhaps Judge Parker could see his way to clearing my name.”

“I doubt he’d be against it, not if you helped bring two criminals to justice. I’d put a good word in for you, too.” He gave her a hard stare. “But you’d have to mend your ways. No more consorting with outlaws.”

“When I have Copper safely back, I’ll have no reason to.” What she didn’t say was that when he caught the horse thieves, he’d also be arresting her parents’ murderers. Justice, finally.

“I hope you mean it. Some people can’t give up the excitement of being bad.”

“I’m just a simple girl at heart.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Nothing simple about you.”

She smiled, relieved that they’d struck a good bargain.

“Why don’t you sing a song for me?”

She gave him a slow, sultry smile, and sang the first line of a ballad about finding true love.