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Authors: Georgina Gentry

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BOOK: To Tame A Texan
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“I'm not.” She looked at the big knife in her hand and smiled at the tempting thought that crossed her mind of the cowboys turning young bulls into steers. She'd like to take this big knife to Ace's . . .
“Liar! I saw you watchin' me swim.” He was glaring at her, and she wasn't sure why.
She couldn't deny it, and she had a feeling she looked very guilty. “I was watchin' everyone.”
“Humph.” He returned to his splashing, and she helped Cookie get the food cooking. By the time Cookie banged a pan, they had crisp slices of bacon, fried potatoes, biscuits and gravy, and strong coffee ready.
Half the cowboys headed for the fire without putting any clothes on, but Ace looked at her, turned his back, and put on his pants and boots. Water still dripped from his rugged body as he came to the fire.
Lynnie blinked and took a deep breath. She just couldn't sit down by a fire with a bunch of naked cowboys and keep her mind on her food. Ace must have seen her expression, because he snapped at the wranglers, “You
hombres
at least put your pants on.”
A cry of protest went up from the boys.
Ace was still glaring at her, which puzzled her greatly. “Put 'em on, I tell you. How would you like to spill hot grease on your best parts and disappoint all those gals in Dodge City?”
That was enough to get the boys laughing and hurrahing each other as they went for their clothes.
Lynnie hurriedly gobbled her food, keeping her gaze on her plate.
“Hey,” one of the cowhands said, “these biscuits ain't half bad—light and tasty.”
Cookie beamed. “My new recipe.”
Lynnie kept silent and ate.
As the evening shadows lengthened, the boys were all setting their tin plates aside, leaning back against their saddles and belching. There seemed to be a contest between them about who could belch the loudest. Well, at least they weren't doing the other thing. Men were such rude, barbaric creatures when women weren't around to civilize and tame them.
Now the boys had a card game going, with Ace winning most of the chips. It was evident he was a better than average poker player, and Lynnie knew more than a little about poker, having been taught by her own ranch's bunkhouse crew over the years.
Ace glared at her. “Ain't you got the first watch, Lee?”
It took all her control not to correct his grammar. She nodded and left the fire. She gave Boneyard a biscuit, and as she saddled up, she noted Cookie was soaking leftover biscuits in vanilla and feeding them to old Twister. A drunken steer—just what they needed. No wonder the old bovine hung around the chuck wagon—he had a taste for alcohol.
As she mounted up in the darkness, she heard Ace's triumphant yell as he won yet another hand. Arrogant, cocky bastard. She'd like to take him down a notch by beating his socks off at poker, but that would only make him more difficult to deal with. Ace Durango was a true Texan; he couldn't stand to be bested by a mere girl. As she rode her lonely post and watched the steers chew their cuds, she looked with longing toward the distant creek.
She was sweaty and itchy, and her face felt as if it had a dozen coats of grime. Maybe when she got off her shift, all the crew would be asleep. It was a cloudy night, and maybe, just maybe she could sneak into that water and take a little bath without anyone being the wiser. Lynnie brightened at the thought; yes, that's what she would do. The risk of getting caught seemed small compared to staying dirty and sweaty for even an hour longer.
She glanced up at the stars and thought she had never seen such a beautiful night. A soft breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and crushed sage. For a moment, she almost enjoyed her trip, and then reminded herself that she was not here to enjoy being a cowboy; she had a bigger job to do. She would attend the Suffragette Conference and help bring Texas into the coming century even if she had to do it with untamed brutes like Ace Durango, kicking and screaming in protest. Women were smart enough to vote, and it was time they got equal rights with men.
A relief rider came out, a young man from Bandera named Joe. “I'll spell you now, Lee.”
“Much obliged.” Lynnie nodded and headed back to the campfire. The other rider had already spread his blanket and was drifting off to sleep as she rode up. Old Twister was asleep next to the chuck wagon, probably waiting for morning's vanilla-soaked biscuits. With all the snoring going on, she couldn't decide if it was Twister, Cookie, or that bunch of cowhands.
Lynnie unsaddled Boneyard, rubbed her down, and turned her out to graze. The fire had died down until the night was as black as the inside of a cow. The moon was hidden by scudding clouds. The discordant symphony of snores told her the crew was sound asleep. Maybe if she got some soap and clean clothes, she might manage a bath without anyone being the wiser. It was worth the risk.
 
 
Ace opened one eye cautiously and watched the kid gathering up some things from his saddlebags.
What was that Lee up to?
Curiously, he watched the boy tiptoeing away from camp. He lay there a few minutes, listening. The kid hadn't returned. Maybe he had decided to quit this outfit because Ace had been riding him so hard. No, that ugly gray horse was still here grazing on the prairie. Most cowboys couldn't swim. Could Lee have gone to swim, fallen in the water, and drowned? Ace began to worry about the kid's safety, and that annoyed him. He'd never looked out for anyone but himself before.
Silent as his Cheyenne ancestors, Ace crawled out of his blankets, slipped on his boots, and crept down to the creek. Lee Smith stood in knee-deep water with his back to Ace, sudsing himself. Ace knew he shouldn't watch the boy wash; it was giving him a guilty pleasure, which troubled him no end. Not that he could see much in the darkness, except how pale the kid's body was. Then the moon came out from behind a cloud, bathing the scene with moonlight. The boy's pale form was silhouetted against the dark night. Ace felt his groin tighten at the sight, and he cursed at himself and then at Lee Smith for the torment Ace had been through these past few days.
Now the boy was messing with his hair. Long hair? Long
red
hair? Why would a man have long hair? Ace watched in disbelief as the boy shook his hair loose and began to wash it. Then he leaned over and rinsed it. At that moment, the boy turned and was silhouetted against the moon as he stepped up on the creek bank. Ace gasped, staring hard. His mind or his eyes must be playing tricks on him.
Without even thinking, he charged toward the figure, anger and relief mixing in his soul. At the sound of his footsteps, the boy looked up, startled and grabbing for clothes, but it was too late. Cursing, Ace collided with the naked figure, and they went down, rolling and struggling in the dirt of the creek bank. Ace snarled, “What the hell is goin' on?”
The slight figure fought back, and they were a tangle of arms and legs. They went down, Ace on top. He was only too aware of how soft and curved the naked body was. “A girl! You're a girl!”
“Get your dirty paws off me!” Lynnie shrieked.
The camp was shaken awake at the sounds of struggle, cowboys coming up out of their blankets. She was wet and slippery, she knew, but no match for Ace Durango's strength. His hands were all over her slender body as he tried to hang on to her. Cowboys tumbled out of their beds, coming toward the creek, and she was naked as a jaybird.
“Get your dirty paws off me, Ace Durango, or I'll tell your daddy and Maverick.”
He stopped dead and she saw the shock, the disbelief, then the anger in his dark eyes. “Why, I'll be Goddamned! It's Lynnie McBride. You conniving little bitch!”
Eleven
“Don't you dare call me a bitch! I'll tell your daddy on you!” Lynnie struggled to get away from him, desperate at the way his angry gaze was devouring her. All the men hurrying toward the creek were big-eyed as well. Not knowing what else to do, she sank her white teeth into his hand.
“Ow, you're worse than a coyote!” He turned loose, waving the injured hand. She grabbed for her clothes as the young cowboys came running.
Ace was so stunned, he could only blink and stare in disbelief as she began to dress. He was both angry and dumfounded that the prim old maid was a naked temptress with a cascade of wet fiery hair. True, she might not be as generously endowed as the women he usually preferred, but when he'd held her softness against him, he'd had a split-second image of making wild, passionate love to her right there on the creek bank.
Make love to Lynnie McBride?
Lordy, had he lost his mind? He'd been too long without a woman. Now his disappointment turned to anger. “Lynnie, I ought to whip your bottom for this!”
“Don't you dare, you brute of a Texan!” She was almost a temptress in her outraged manner as she struggled to get into her pants, hopping about on one foot.
The cowboys gathered on the creek, and abruptly, Ace didn't want them staring with such eye-popping interest. “You
hombres
go back to camp. There's not much to see; it's just Lynnie McBride.”
“Well, I never!” She had her pants on now, looking about nearsightedly for a shirt.
Her breasts might be small, but they were perfect, Ace thought, and was annoyed all over again because his groin had tightened. He handed her a shirt, and she slipped it on as the crew gathered around them. Old Cookie blinked. “What's going on down here?”
Ace reached out and began to button her shirt, even though she was slapping at his hands.
“Stop pawing me, Ace Durango.”
“Damn it, I'm not pawing you; I'm just tryin' to protect your dignity.” Yes, she was almost attractive when she was mad, he decided.
“Is that what you call wallowing me all over the dirt, and me buck naked?”
The men circled them, eyes bright with curiosity.
“Nekkid?” Joe said, “Did I hear the word ‘girl' and ‘nekkid'?”
“It's just Lynnie McBride,” Ace said, but he couldn't stop staring at her small, angry face. She looked like she might cry. He didn't know if he was feeling relief that he wasn't a nancy-boy after all, or anger with the sneaky female for her deception.
Comanche looked tousled and incredulous. “Lee Smith is a girl?”
Some of the others grinned. “We got a girl travelin' with us?”
“Not
that
kind of girl,” Ace let them know quickly. He didn't want anyone getting ideas about crawling into her blankets. Of course, he told himself, it was only because his dad and Uncle Maverick would be furious if any man laid a hand on her. Which was why Ace resisted the urge to grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she squared her small shoulders as she brushed back the wet mop of fiery hair.
Pedro strode up, looking grim. “Ace, you responsible for bringing the
señorita
along?”
Ace was outraged. “If I was gonna sneak a woman on this trip, you think I'd pick
her?”
Comanche scratched his head and yawned. “She looks purty good to me.”
“Comanch,” Ace said, “you've been on the trail too long.”
At that point, Lynnie kicked Ace in the shins for this insult.
While Ace hopped around on one foot, howling, Lynnie faced the others. “All right; I'll admit it. I sneaked on this cattle drive because I'm trying to get to Dodge City for a women's rights meeting. No man helped me; I was clever enough to dress like a boy, and none of you are too smart if you thought I was for the last couple of weeks.”
Pedro sat down on a big rock and stroked his mustache.
“Señorita,
does your brother-in-law know?”
“Of course not. You think Maverick or my big sister would have let me come? I'm independent; I thought this scheme up all by myself.” Now she could finally take her cameo pin from her pocket and pin her shirt closed.
“I ought to paddle your butt,” Ace said, and quit limping.
Lynnie drew herself up primly. “That's not a nice thing to say to a lady. Anyway, you just try it, you big lummox.”
Pedro sighed. “This trouble I did not need. The question remains,
señorita:
what do we do with you?”
Lynnie took a deep breath and looked around at all the curious male faces. “Thunderation, why do you need to do anything? I was carrying my share of the load as Lee Smith; you've got to admit that.”
The boys looked at each other and nodded.
“Lordy, girl,” Ace said, “that was before. It ain't right and proper for a girl to be travelin' with a dozen men.”
Lynnie snorted. “Ace Durango, a rogue and libertine, is lecturing me on what's right and proper?”
His expression told her he was not certain whether he was being insulted. “Lynnie, you and your big words. None of us even know what a ‘libertine' is.”
“Well, you're a prime example, you irresponsible brute.” She bent and began to put on her boots. “I don't see why I can't continue just the way I was doing before.”
The young cowboys all looked at each other.
“Look, Lynnie,” Ace said patiently, as if he were talking to an idiot, “you can't, because it would ruin your reputation.”
“Ha!” She faced him. “After you caused me to go to jail and lose my teaching position, do you think I've got any reputation left?”
The cowboys all looked at Ace with the kind of scornful contempt they might have reserved for some villain who had said, “Forget the Alamo.”
“Listen, Miss Priss,” Ace fired back, “as I recall,
you
got
me
thrown in jail.”
A gasp went up from the cowboys.
Hank said, “Ace, no true Texan would talk to a lady the way you're doin'.”
“This
lady,”
Ace said coldly, “keeps gettin' me in trouble, and then I have to take the blame.”
“Why, Miss Lynnie,” Comanch said, rushing to her defense, “is a sweet, nice girl.”
“Ha!” Ace snarled.
Pedro held up his hand for silence.
“Hombres,
none of this matters. What matters is that we are a long way from home. I don't know what to do next.”
Ace said, “Why don't we turn this herd around and go home? I've had my fill of Cookie's food and sleepin' on the hard ground when there's eager girls at Miss Fancy's—”
“Ace!” snapped another cowboy, “you shouldn't talk about Miss Fancy's in front of a nice girl like Miss McBride here.”
“Hush,
hombres,”
Pedro ordered, and gestured for silence. “I've got to think.”
Lynnie glared at Ace. “You're an irresponsible quitter; that's what you are. Here we've promised to take this herd to Dodge City, and you'd let Forrester and Purdy take their herd in while we quit, turn tail, and go home beaten? You're more spoiled than I thought you were.”
“Don't talk to me like that, you old maid. You're the one puttin' this drive in trouble.”
Cookie said, “Don't you two ever stop yammerin' at each other?”
“Pedro,” Lynnie appealed to him, “I've come this far and I've been a good hand. It isn't fair to turn the herd around and disappoint everyone who's counting on us to get these steers to Dodge City.”
The old Mexican nodded agreement. “
Si
. That's true,
señorita.”
The boys were all weakening, Lynnie thought with satisfaction—that is, everyone but Ace. He looked like he'd like to shake her until her teeth fell out.
“Please,” she whimpered in her best helpless-female tone. The others looked undecided and sympathetic.
“No!” Ace shouted. “Can't you see how she's playin' all you
hombres?”
She batted her lashes at all the men. “Now, could a weak, helpless little lady do anything to outsmart a bunch of big, strong cowboys?”
Hank nodded. “I say we let the little lady go on with us.”
There was a murmur of agreement from some of the others.
“Lordy, your fellas are dumber than a rock if you can't see what's happenin' here.”
Lynnie managed to squeeze out a tear, which trickled down one cheek while she pretended to stifle a sob. “Oh, Ace, you are so mean. Isn't there any way I could change your mind?”
Ace looked around the circle. Even Lynnie could see that he might lose in a vote. “Tell you what, Lynnie, suppose we have a contest, and if you lose, you go back without causin' a lot of fuss.”
Lynnie considered. “What kind of contest?”
His eyes brightened, and he actually rubbed his hands in glee. “What about a game of cards? Pedro, you think that'd be fair?”
The cowboys set up a moan of protest. “Hey, Ace, that ain't fair. No woman can best a man at cards, especially you.”
Pedro scratched his head.
“Hombres,
I don't know what to do. I never had a problem like this before.”
Ace sneered. “Lynnie McBride, you're a yellow-bellied chicken if you don't pick up that dare.”
Lynnie ran her tongue over her lips nervously. “What—what kind of cards?”
Comanch objected. “Don't you do it, Miss Lynnie. Ace is the best in all Texas.”
Lynnie sniffed. “I imagine he's had plenty of practice, the kind of places he hangs out in. All right, Ace Durango, I accept your challenge.”
Ace's eyes gleamed like a crafty fox. “I get to choose the game?”
Cookie shook his head. “Don't let him, Miss Lynnie.”
All the cowboys were glaring at Ace for taking advantage of a nice, innocent girl.
Lynnie stuck out her hand. “Done. You pick the game.”
Ace stepped back involuntarily. It was obvious that he didn't want to shake hands with a mere girl. In the meantime, the cowboys were grumbling among themselves at his lack of chivalry He grinned. “I say poker. None of those sissy lady games like whist.”
The men all groaned aloud. One of them whispered, “It ain't right for a cardsharp like Ace to take advantage of an innocent little lady like that.”
Poker.
He was walking right into her trap. Lynnie controlled her smile while looking about innocently. “Poker? Maybe some of the boys will tell me the rules.”
Ace made a sweeping gesture. “All right, back to the fire. We'll get this game goin' pronto. I've got a deck.”
Cookie started out in the lead. “I'll make a pot of coffee if we're all going to stay up.”
“Aw, not that,” one of the younger men whispered.
“I heerd that.”
Back at the fire, Ace got out a deck of cards, and they all gathered around a big, flat rock. He shuffled the deck and handed it to Lynnie.
She looked at it as if mystified and slipped on her gold-rimmed spectacles. “What am I supposed to do?”
The cowboys gave her pitying looks, but Ace grinned even bigger. “You cut the deck.”
“I'm not sure I know how—”
“Here,” Comanche reached and took it from her. “You do it this way, miss, so they'll be mixed up good.” He handed the deck back to her.
While smiling innocently, Lynnie ran her thumb down the edge of the cards. Just as she had suspected, this was a marked deck. She could feel the indentations that had been made with a thumbnail on certain cards. “I think I'd like a fresh deck, please.” She smiled demurely.
“What?” Ace said. “What's wrong with these?”
Lynnie gave him her widest-eyed look through her spectacles. “Well, these have been played with quite a bit and they're filthy. I think I'd have to wash these off before I'd want to handle them.”
The cowboys laughed, and Ace sighed loudly. “Somebody got a nice, clean new deck so the little lady won't get her hands dirty?”
“I do,” said Comanch, and ran to get them. He handed them to Lynnie.
“Now, this is more like it,” she said, took the joker out of the deck, then began to shuffle the cards expertly. She glanced up and enjoyed the look on Ace's rugged face as she handled the cards. His dark eyes showed first disbelief, then amazement. He had that shocked, deer-in-the-lantern-light expression. Still, she was certain that with his smug masculine superiority, he didn't believe a woman might be a pretty good poker player. “Now, Ace,” she said as she handed him the deck to cut, “what's your pleasure? I hear you prefer five-card stud.”
A cowboy laughed softly, and some of the others began to grin. Ace, for once, seemed speechless. “What—whatever you choose.”
“Deuces wild, okay?”
Ace only blinked and nodded as he handed the deck back.
Lynnie smiled. “Cut for first deal?”
Again he only nodded, still blinking. He reached and took a card: three of diamonds. Lynnie smiled and took a card: queen of hearts.
“Well, now,” she said and shuffled the cards again. She began to deal the hand expertly, one card facedown for him, one card facedown for her. Then she flipped him a card faceup: jack of diamonds. Her next card was a ten of spades. She kept dealing, and as she dealt, his smile grew bigger. He had two jacks and two queens showing. She picked up her cards, wondering what his bottom card might be.
“All right, Miss Priss, now I'll show you how to play poker.” He looked at his bottom card and grinned, then began to chew his lip.
BOOK: To Tame A Texan
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