Texas Rose TH2 (5 page)

The next hand was long and drawn-out, and money began to build again in the table's center. Benjamin gave him the signal that a card was floating in the game that shouldn't be there, but Tyler hadn't seen Dorset pull it. He ventured a quick look up and found Daniel leaning drunkenly on Maryellen's shoulder. Two beers didn't make even an eighteen-year old drunk. Tyler was beginning to feel as if this scenario was spinning out of control.

Maryellen patted her brother's hand and sent Daniel back to the bar. But when she turned her attention back to the table, she spilled her drink down Dorset's coat. The planter roared and leapt to his feet. Benjamin grabbed him before he could swing, and Maryellen chirped and patted his vest with her lace hanky while Benjamin deprived him of his coat as neatly as any valet. Daniel brought the irate gambler another beer.

As the source of Dorset's spare cards was neatly removed by a couple of striplings, Tyler wanted to laugh. He wanted to roll on the floor and hold his sides until he ached. He wanted to kiss Maryellen Peyton and even her brother if necessary. Instead, he grumpily ordered everyone back to the game.

It was easy after that. Without the assistance of his coat pockets, Dorset's cards went steadily downhill. Maryellen's cheerful smiles and reassurances kept Tyler betting for as long as Dorset held out. Dorset lost every hand. Maryellen's frowns signaled bad hands for Tyler, and he folded every time she did so. Dorset won those rounds, but the pot was much smaller.

The stack of money around Tyler mounted and began to include greenbacks as Dorset emptied out his pockets and ordered more whiskey. Several of the other men at the table dropped out to go home with their small winnings. Others stepped in to take their places. With every loss, Dorset grew angrier.

Daniel hiccupped and slid from the bar to the floor. Benjamin lifted him up and carried him out. Tyler didn't miss either of them. Maryellen yawned and glanced at her nails. Tyler let the pot go to the man beside him. Dorset threw down a pair of deuces and swore.

"Monteigne, if I didn't have a man watching you, I'd swear you were cheating. Take off your coat for insurance, and I'll go you one more round."

Tyler gave his opponent a look that should have shriveled him in his seat. "Those are fighting words, Dorset. Gentlemen don't cheat. But since I'm winning this game, I'm prepared to be generous." He shrugged off his tailored frock coat and threw it at one of the men standing near him. The man searched it for hidden cards or devices and shrugged when he found none.

"Now, put your money where your mouth is, Dorset." Tyler picked up the deck of cards and shuffled. The mound of money in front of him was enormous, sufficient to pay off almost every grudge he had against the man. But he wanted one thing more.

"I want a new deck of cards. Henry, have you got a clean deck?" Dorset shouted to the bartender.

The bartender obligingly threw an unopened pack. Someone caught it and passed it to the table.

Tyler caught Maryellen's eye as Dorset's man took the old deck. She glanced at the man, then nodded almost imperceptibly.

While the gamblers at the table broke open the new pack, Maryellen called sweetly, "Could I have those old cards, gentlemen? I'd like them for a souvenir of one of the most exciting nights of my life. Maybe you could autograph the aces for me when you're done playing?"

Tyler hid his laughter as Dorset's accomplice scowled and surrendered the cards. The farmers were willingly scribbling their names across the old deuces and treys as he dealt the new cards. Tyler now knew where the spy was in the crowd, although he'd harbored the suspicion all along. And Dorset wouldn't have the advantage of the extra deck as he had hoped. Deprived of whatever was left in his coat, the planter would have to play an honest game.

"What are you wagering, Dorset?" Tyler called as he examined his hand.

"You'll have to take my marker, Monteigne. You know I'm good for it. After all, you ought to be more aware than anyone of what my crop brings."

The room fell silent. Maryellen looked thoughtful as she placed another beer beside Dorset and glanced at the hand that he so carelessly displayed. This time she gave no evidence of laughter or frowns.

Not high cards then. Reading Maryellen's deliberate expression, Tyler ignored Dorset's jibe and discarded one card and drew another. "I'll not be here long enough to collect your marker, Dorset. Wager that watch you're wearing."

Feeling the currents of tension, the other gamblers quickly folded. Dorset frowned and put the intricately engraved gold watch on the table and took two more cards.

Tyler dropped a stack of coins on the table. "I call."

Dorset spread out a pair of tens. Tyler had two knaves.

"Damn it, Monteigne, I know you cheated." Dorset reached to take back the watch.

A click from Tyler's revolver halted Dorset's hand in midair. Tyler pocketed the watch without looking at it, then began filling his pockets with cash with his free hand. "I wasn't the one with cards in my coat, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an early appointment tomorrow." He made a slight bow to their audience. "Gentlemen." He swung around and started for the door.

"Now, that's not nice," Maryellen's voice scolded at the same time one of the farmers shouted. Tyler heard a slap, then the sound of a shot.

Swinging around, he noted the imprint of a hand on Dorset's thick jaw. A new hole gaped in the ceiling and a smoking gun lay on the floor. With a look of fire in her eyes, Maryellen stalked through the crowd. Tyler offered his arm. She gave him a pithy look and took it, gathering her full skirts in her free hand as she did so. A grin played at a corner of her lips as she whispered, "Do I make a good sidekick for Pecos Martin?"

As they left the fury of the argument behind them, Tyler gave her an incredulous look, but her disarming grin swept through him on the wings of elation. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I think it's time Pecos and his partner gets the hell out of here."

And Maryellen nodded a wide-eyed agreement as they raced up the stairs before the fight in the saloon could spill into the lobby.

Chapter 4

Benjamin looked up as Maryellen and Tyler dashed into the room and slapped the bar across the door. Daniel was sound asleep, fully clothed, in one of the beds.

"Party's breaking up," Benjamin said laconically at a crash from below.

"Is the boat in yet?" Shrugging his coat back on, Tyler grabbed one of the carpetbags he'd carried up for his traveling companion and threw it to Maryellen.

"Heard the whistle coming 'round the bend not too far back."

"Maryellen, pack whatever you need for tonight. Ben, you can get the trunks on the boat in the morning. I don't think they'll come looking for you or Daniel, but you might wait until the last minute before you head out so they can't follow. Use your own judgment."

Holding her bag, Maryellen stared at Tyler as if he'd taken leave of his senses. "Pack what I need? I'll have to strip the beds and crush the gown I took out for pressing and..."

Impatiently, Tyler pulled the garments she had left hanging on a hook and grabbing her bag, stuffed them in. There wasn't room left for anything else. He held out his hand to Benjamin. "Give us our tickets."

Ben handed them over. "I'll keep an eye on the stairs. You take the back way."

Clutching Maryellen's bag in one hand, Tyler grabbed her arm with the other and called to Ben, "See you in the morning."

Before she could voice more protests, Tyler dragged her out of the room and toward the kitchen stairs. Maryellen dug in her heels, but she was too light for that ploy to stop him. He went down the stairs first as a gentleman should, but it wasn't a gentleman's hold that he had on her arm as he practically jerked her after him.

"Tyler, let go of me! Where do you think you're going?" she whispered furiously. "I can't leave Daniel."

"Hush." Tyler stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened to the drunken roars from the front of the inn. If he judged his man right, after the brawl there would be a brief respite while Dorset slept off the alcohol. In the cold clear air of morning, he would realize what Maryellen had done. Tyler wasn't taking any chances between now and then.

There was no sound of pursuit as yet. Throwing open the back door, he pulled Maryellen down the path toward the privy. He could hear her gasp of surprise, but she was keeping her mouth shut. He'd give her a few more points for cleverness.

He wasn't giving her any chance to argue. Triumph rocketing through his veins, Tyler raced down the path, towing the creative little witch behind him.

She jerked her hand away from him to hike her skirts up as far as she could as she followed.

The paddle wheeler at the dock spilled light and music across the dark river, but the plank wasn't in place. Tyler cursed and hallooed the guard until the man leaned over the railing.

"You've got to help us out, man!" Tyler caught Maryellen by the waist and held her close. "We just got married, and they're trying to chivaree us. We've got tickets for the morning. Could you let us on now?"

The guard looked down and chuckled and called for help in lowering the plank. Tyler figured they looked harassed and mussed enough for newlyweds. He was just glad his companion didn't rip out his hair for the ploy.

With the plank lowered, he swept her up to the boat and pulled the tickets from his pocket along with a handful of greenbacks. "They might come looking for us. Is there a stateroom vacant? You can handle the exchange with the purser in the morning and keep the change for your trouble."

"I do believe you're in luck, sir." The guard continued chuckling as he pocketed the cash. "Just follow me."

Coming down from her euphoric cloud, Evie hesitated at the sound of this, but she wasn't yet ready to create a scene. Tyler might conceivably be honorable in his intentions. And from the sounds of the brawl they had just left behind, he was undoubtedly correct in making their escape. Remembering her part in this, she grinned. She'd never done anything remotely like that before, and she had enjoyed herself thoroughly.

Tyler's exuberance matched her own as they entered the room they were shown to and the door closed behind them. With a whoop of triumph, he flung her bag to the floor and caught the heroine of the hour up in his arms, swinging her around the small space left between bed and door.

"You're a treasure and a joy to behold, Maryellen Peyton. I've been waiting for this day for years!"

And without any further warning than that, Tyler's mouth swooped down on hers, and he kissed her soundly.

The total unexpectedness of it caught Evie off guard. She had grabbed his shoulders for support when he swept her off the floor. Now she clung to them as Tyler's kiss did what no other man's ever had. She felt the heat of his lips clear to her toes.

Tyler seemed to feel something of the fire, too, because what had started out as an exuberant salute gradually became something more. His mouth softened and slid along hers and plied the corners with subtle pecks that left Evie gasping for more. He took the advantage to part her lips, and she felt a sudden rush of something totally foreign as his tongue intimately entwined with her own. She was burning in places that shouldn't be burning, and her head bent backward to more thoroughly accept his deepening kiss.

But when Tyler's hand came up to caress her breast, Evie pushed away. She knew the point where reality met fantasy, and this was it. Glaring at him, she crossed her arms protectively across her chest. "Don't you dare, Tyler Monteigne. You're not really Pecos Martin, and I'm not one of those kind of women."

Lit by the lantern, the devil danced in Tyler's eyes as his gaze swept over her. "Come now, Maryellen, don't tell me you've never been kissed. You're too beautiful for a man to resist, and you know it."

"Kissing is one thing. What you were trying to do was quite another. Nanny warned me about men like you. Now remove yourself from here at once. Sharing a room with you wasn't part of our agreement."

Tyler shrugged and tugged his coat off. "It hadn't been part of my original intention, either. You were the one who disobeyed orders and came down and got involved."

Scandalized, Evie stared as Tyler threw his coat over a chair and began to tug at his cravat. His shoulders seemed to grow wider as he stood there in shirtsleeves and satin waistcoat. Lamplight glinted off his golden hair, and the square outline of his jaw possessed a dangerous tilt. Making princes out of frogs was one thing. This was quite another.