Nevada Heat (7 page)

“I figured maybe you and me could be… friends?"

“No.”

He blinked. "No? Just no?"

“That's right."

"Why the hell not?" He leaned back in his chair, a slow grin lifting one corner of his mouth. He certainly hadn't expected that! "You got so many friends you can't stand one more?”

“No.” Her gaze dropped to the tabletop.

“That all you're gonna say?"

Nothing.

Dave frowned slightly. This wasn't going the way he'd planned at all. Now she wouldn't even look at him. But like he told Buck. He wasn't about to give up.

“Well, then, if you ain't gonna talk… I will." He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. She was so stiff, it was like she had a poker stuck up her corset. He took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I ain't askin' for nothin' special here, Miss Shelly." At least not yet, he assured himself. He lowered his voice. "I just thought that we could talk sometimes, you know. Hell, I know I ain't much to look at." Dave shrugged. She still stared at the table. "But that don't matter none to friends, does it?"

Suddenly she looked up, glanced at him quickly, then let her gaze slide away to the window.

"Tell you what." He rubbed one hand over his freshly shaved jaw. “How 'bout if I do the talkin' and you just listen sometimes? How'd that be?"

She started and Dave turned to follow her gaze. For an instant he saw Jesse Hogan outlined in the doorway of the general store. Then the man turned and disappeared inside again. Dave wondered if she was interested in the new man. But he discounted that notion quickly. That wasn't interest shining in her eyes. It was worry. She was clearly frettin' over something.

Dave's brain worked at a fever pitch. Mentally he went through the names and faces of the most notorious of the wanted men in the area. He was fairly sure Jesse Hogan wasn't one of 'em. Then what was it about the man that upset Shelly so? Her features were stiff. Her hands clasped tightly together. Something had her real skittish.

Suddenly the answer dawned on him. Miranda was in that store with Jesse. Shelly was mother-henning the woman.

Dave chuckled softly. "You know, that boy's been warned some already about leavin' Miranda alone. Reckon he's one that's got to learn the hard way."

Shelly turned and looked at him. Her features blank, she slowly stood up. Looking down at him, she said softly, "Seems like most men got to learn the hard way." She didn't give him time to answer her, just spun around and walked across the room and out the front door.

Dave stared after her for a long moment. A leisurely grin curved the edges of his mouth. Seems he owed Jesse Hogan a thank you. At least she had finally talked to him. It was a start.

#

Miranda's eyes followed Jesse as he walked from the counter to the doorway then back again. His color was no better and his mouth was now a grim, hard line. Silently she went back over what she'd said, looking for a clue to his sudden change of manner. He'd been all right until she'd mentioned Serena.

Miranda looked up at him. Did he know her? Or Pike? Would there be trouble when Pike returned? There were so many things about him that she didn't know.

"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

“I'm fine!" Jesse snapped at her. He managed to look everywhere but directly at her. Finally he settled his gaze on a shaft of sunlight just above her head. Pale light filtered through a dirty windowpane over the door and sliced through the gloom of the store. Tiny flecks of dust floated and danced in the light and Jesse tried desperately to concentrate on them. This was all her fault. Dammit anyway, she had no right to make him feel things that were better off dead! It didn't do any good atall to let himself grieve for Della. For Carter. For the baby. Nothin' did any good. Except putting them out of his mind. And he would have done just fine at that if not for this woman and this damn town! Who the hell would expect to run into a pregnant woman in an outlaw hideaway?

He glared at Miranda. She reacted to his stare and looked up. Jesse’s fists clenched as his teeth ground together. Why did she have to look at him like that? Her turquoise eyes all big and wide, concern written all over her face… who asked her to care?

“Like I said," Jesse grumbled, “I'm just dandy. It's you that ain't right!"

"Me?" Her head cocked to one side and her long, brown braid fell over her shoulder. “What do you mean?"

"This!" Jesse pushed away from the counter and marched in a wide circle around her. He raised his arms to encompass the store and the surrounding town. "All of this! What the hell are you doin' in a place like this?"

Miranda smiled and shook her head. "You mean what's a nice girl like me doing here?"

"Well, yeah!"

"Oh, Jesse, I'd thought better of you than that." She pushed herself to her feet. “I can't tell you how many times I've heard that question."

"That right?" He took a step back, trying to keep a safe distance between them. "You got an answer?"

"Of course." Miranda looked at him. Nervous, fidgety, he'd managed to turn the conversation away from himself. She knew he'd done it purposely, too.

He pushed his hat back further on his head. "And that there's another thing! How come if you been livin' in this hole all your life, how come you talk like a durn schoolmarm?"

“I do?" Her brow wrinkled slightly and she tapped one finger against her chin thoughtfully.

“You sure as damn well do." Although she sure as shootin' didn't look like one. At least none he'd ever seen. He tried to keep from admiring her figure, but those damn trousers and open-necked shirt made it almighty hard.

“I never realized." Miranda shook her head. “Isn't that funny?" She looked up at him and smiled. “No one's ever told me that before. I wonder why not."

“Most likely they was afraid they'd say it wrong."

"Oh, no," she said quickly. “That couldn't be why, could it?" Her eyes widened even more. “I'd feel terrible if I thought for a moment that I'd made anyone uncomfortable."

Jesse let his head drop back on his neck. He stared at the ceiling helplessly. What was it about her? Even when he's bein' mean to her, all she can think is that mayhap she's upset some other folks. He chanced a quick look at her. She still looked worried.

Something deep within him stirred and he found himself saying quietly, “You didn't bother nobody. Folks prob'ly never even noticed."

Miranda's features softened and Jesse felt an unreasonable warmth flood him. This didn't make sense. None of it did. And what was worse, he found he really wanted to know why a woman like her was living in the middle of the desert playin' nursemaid to men who'd most likely get shot on sight at any decent town.

"So,” he asked in a tone more harsh than he'd planned, "you gonna tell me or not?"

“Hmmm?”

He sighed. “You gonna tell me why the hell you're livin' out here in this godforsaken hole?"

Miranda laughed gently and Jesse felt the sound smooth over him like bubbling warm water in a hot spring.

"If you'll carry this box over behind the counter, I will."

For just an instant a smile hovered on Jesse’s lips before disappearing entirely. Figured she'd find a way to make him heft the durn thing again. Silently he lifted the crate once more and set it down where she told him. Then he turned and looked down at her, trying not to inhale the flowery fragrance of her. She smiled at him. A wide, friendly smile whose like he hadn't seen in longer than he cared to remember. Then she turned and walked to the open doorway.

She stared out at the street and began to speak. "This 'hole,' as you call it, is my home. I was born here."

"Here?"

Miranda glanced back at him and nodded. “Right here. My father built this place, you know. But I suppose you've heard that already."

He shrugged. "Some. Why don't you tell me?"

“My father, Judd Perry" — she turned back to the sunwashed street — “was a thief. He didn't start out that way of course."

"Of course," Jesse agreed, and let his gaze move over her leisurely.

“But when his farm failed and he couldn't get a loan, well, I suppose he got angry. Bitter. He started robbing stagecoaches and worked his way up to banks.” Miranda shrugged and slid her hand up the side of the door she leaned against. "He made a lot of friends on the Owl Hoot trail, and after a few years, he was tired. He had enough money 'stashed away' and he wanted to find a spot he could call home."

She looked back at Jesse and grinned. "But he was wanted just about everywhere, so he had nowhere to go. Then he remembered this place. He had hidden up here in the canyon once before when a posse was hunting him." She leaned her head back against the door panel and closed her eyes. "So he decided to come here and build his own town. Only it would be a town where outlaws would be welcome. He'd seen the lonely men riding trails by night, never able to rest, never able to close their eyes for fear of being caught unawares. He talked a few of his friends, like Birdwell and Big Pete, into coming with him and they built this town."

“I thought you said Birdwell was your uncle," Jesse interrupted her.

She shook her head. “He's not really. But in my heart, he is."

Jesse nodded and waited for her to continue.

"Anyway, they came here together and let word get around of what they were planning to do. Soon outlaws from all over the country were coming by with supplies. Every board, every nail was brought in from the outside by men who knew they would finally have a place to call home."

She opened her eyes and pushed away from the door. Walking slowly around the room, Miranda ran her hand over the shelves and chairs lovingly. "There's a natural spring here, you know, so there’s plenty of water." She stopped, looked at Jesse, and smiled. "Of course, the Apaches didn't care for Judd and the others settling down right on top of the water…”

“I'll bet." Jesse returned her smile but privately thought that Judd Perry and his friends must have had a helluva time convincing those Apaches.

"Even now," Miranda added, "we have an occasional raid."

He shook his head. She said that so simply. As if an Apache raid was no more important than a burned chicken dinner.

"And with outlaws coming in from all over the country, there was always a fresh supply of food for the men and grain for the animals. Although now we even have a good-sized garden in springtime. We put up the extra so there's plenty of vegetables for winter." She smiled proudly. "That was my idea. And it's not easy getting the men to take their turn at hoeing, either. But one of the town rules is, if you don't help out, you don't stay."

“Rules?” Jesse said softly, not wanting to break the spell of her voice.

"A few." She shrugged her shoulders again. “But they're very simple. The one I just told you about. Helping out… and another is, no killers are allowed sanctuary in the canyon." Miranda stopped and watched him seriously. He looked so surprised at her last statement, she felt she should explain. “My father understood how a man might be forced into stealing to survive and he thought any man fool enough to play cards with a professional gambler deserved to be cheated. But he wouldn't tolerate a killer." She smiled again. “Judd didn't trust them. Another rule is that there be no stealing or fighting in town. Judd always said that everyone had a right to feel safe here."

"Any more I should know about?" he asked softly.

“Just one." She stopped a few feet from him. "Leave me alone." Jesse's brows shot straight up. “Judd added that one to the original list when I was born."

"Don't blame him." He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her. "But none of this tells me how come you sound like a schoolteacher."

She took a deep breath and stepped up closer to the counter and Jesse. Idly she ran her fingertip along the scratch marks on the plank counter. "My mother was a schoolteacher." Miranda flattened her palms on the rough wood. "Her family was fairly wealthy, living in Independence, Missouri, when Mother decided to become a teacher." Miranda smiled. "Naturally her family was against it. They wanted her to marry and settle down nearby. But Mother wanted adventure. So she went west and finally found a position in a tiny town outside Placerville. In California."

Jesse nodded.

“While she was teaching, a young man would drop by from time to time and they would talk. Mother used to say they talked about everything. And he was so handsome. And so polite. So kind and gentle." Miranda inhaled sharply and went on in a rush. "One day the young man asked her to marry him. But he said, before she answered, he wanted her to know the truth about him. And so he told her. But Teresa McGraw didn't care that Judd Perry was an outlaw." Miranda's chin went up. "She loved him. And knew he loved her."

Miranda turned to face Jesse, a soft smile on her face. “After they were married, Judd came here, built this place, then brought my mother here. I was born two years later."

"Where are they now?" Jesse asked, though he was fairly sure he knew the answer.