Under a Texas Star (25 page)

"I love roses," she said, taking a deep breath. "I think they're one of the few truly feminine things I do love. I sure don't like skirts much. And I hate frills. Now, you wanted to tell me something, Mr. Egan?"

Egan fidgeted and cleared his throat.

Good, she thought, I've derailed him. At least a little bit.

"Marly," he began, "I know you think it's more comfortable being a boy, but you must also know it ain't natural. Maybe your papa wanted a boy or you thought you'd be safer as one."

"I hardly remember my father."

"Maybe someone is looking for you. I don't know. It doesn't matter. Trust me with your problems and I'll sort them out for you. Under my protection, you'll be safe. I'll be in El Paso next month on business. Wait for me. We can get married there and you can come home to Fortuna as Mrs. Marly Egan."

"You're jumping the gun, Mr. Egan."

"Matt."

"I haven't said I would marry you."

"You haven't said you wouldn't. I know you don't love me yet, but I'll give you everything. I'll make you happy. You can't run around in boy's clothes forever."

Mar
ly glowered at him. The nerve of the man.

"I―"

He placed a finger against her lips. "Don't say anything now. Just wait for me in El Paso."

Behind them, the kitchen door opened. Fred appeared.

"Ah, Master Landers, I was hoping it was you enjoying my garden." He scowled at Egan. "You like roses, Mr. Egan? It is true―you
do
learn something new every day. You must come and see them in daylight."

Marly had to bite her lip to stifle a laugh.

"Perhaps you could secure the gate when you are finished, sir," Fred sai
d. "Deputy, I believe Master Jason wants you to do the rounds. You can come through the back way."

With a nod to Egan, she followed Fred up the steps.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You should be more careful."

"I thought I would be safer here than any place Egan might have taken me. What I should've done is led him into Louis' vegetable patch."

"Louis would have chased him out with a butcher knife."

"Exactly." She paused. "The marshal didn't really want me to do the patrol, did he?"

"No," Fred admitted. "He's busy with ranchers and business owners, discussing what they should look for in the future marshal of Fortuna."

She bid him good night.

Stopping at the office, Marly picked up her rifle and stuffed ammunition into her pockets. If nothing else, she would be armed if Egan bothered her again. He was a persistent man who wouldn't take no for an answer.

It was a quiet night, with only a few young couples strolling down the dusty street. Mick Riley was still sitting out in front of the bank, smoking his pipe. He looked asleep, but he gave her a lazy greeting as she walked by.

As she passed the alley behind the bank and the express office, she recognized a cattleman's daughter embracing a man in a gray suit jacket. She hoped he was her fiancé.

Taking a winding route around the north edge of town, she found another couple in the alley between the barbershop and hotel. It seemed love was in the air and everyone was in high spirits this evening.

She pushed Egan's marriage proposal from her mind.

A few yards further, she exchanged greetings with an old man who was picking through the refuse behind the general store.

"The pickings will be better at The Oasis tonight," she suggested.

Walking back down Main Street, Marly realized she'd miss Fortuna. And the townspeople.

The Haven was her last stop. No one paid her any attention. Many were too engrossed in their own pastimes
―drinking, playing poker or both. The rest were grouped around one table.

"Hey, Landers!"

Birke sat in the back corner.

"I'll buy you a beer," he offered.

"Coffee'll do."

"A coffee for my fellow deputy. Pull up a seat."

She sat facing the door. "Sounds lik
e you've got used to the notion of being a lawman."

"Got my first pay. 'Sides, it's only temporary. As soon as the town gets a new marshal appointed, I'll go back to what I know best. Meantime," he raised his glass, "here's to law and order."

"Cheers!"

Birke finished his beer. "'Nother coffee here, Duke."

Duke brought the pot and a second mug.

Marly held hers up for a refill just as loud guffaws erupted from the crowded table across the room.

"What's going on at that table over there?" she asked.

"Well," Birke said, drawing out the word for maximum effect, "it seems your moment of fame is over. McKinley has the spotlight. Turns out the boy's a fair storyteller. He's been telling his side of the adventure and he has the guts to make his part in it sound foolish. Should hear him tell how he fell off his horse." He grunted.

"If he's so good, why are you over here?"

"Got tired of standing."

Marly drifted over and listened to Jed for a few minutes. He spotted her and tried to draw her into telling her part of the story. She shook her head and returned to sit Birke's side. His company was less demanding.

Later, she left to finish her rounds. Birke joined her.

It was busier on Main Street. As usual, almost everyone left the party at once. Some of the people who lived further out of town were staying overnight at the hotel. The intersection of Main and Avenue was clogged with folks taking forever to say good night, as though they weren't going to see each other at church next week.

When they saw Marly, they pulled her into their farewells.

"Make your way to the office," Birke said under his breath. "I'll finish patrolling the town."

Once inside the Marshal's Office, she leaned against the door and yawned. "Finally…peace."

When Jase came in, she was at the desk, rubbing her temples.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Drained dry."

"It's been a long day."

She got up, shuttered the windows and bolted the door.

"You staying up?" she asked.

"Nope."

She picked up the lantern and lit the way to their quarters.

"Egan sought me out again," she said.

"And?"

"He told me that he's coming to El Paso for me."

"You didn't tell him there was no point?"

Setting the lantern down, she let out a frustrated huff. "He doesn't listen and I don't know what I can say to make him listen."

She waited for a reaction, a suggestion
―something.

Nothing.

Irritated by his silence, Marly began stripping off her outer clothes, getting ready for bed. She hung her gun belt on the chair by the cot. She lined up her boots so she could find them easily in the dark, if needed. Her jeans were dr
aped over the back of the chair and her shirt hung over the jeans and belt in such a way that she could still get at the revolver.

Sitting at the edge of the cot, she fingered the tin star of the Texas Rangers. She glanced over her shoulder. Jase was watching her.

She lifted the badge. "Is it okay if I wear it?"

"Course," he said gruffly. "You earned it, didn't you?"

She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything.

With a sigh, she wandered to the washstand. As she wiped the day's grime from her hands and face, Jase undressed behind her.

By the time she turned around, his gun belt was draped over the bedpost and he'd pulled off his boots. Standing in his combinations and wool socks, he smoothed and folded his dress trousers and laid his jeans out to wear in the morning. Likewise, his best shirt was replaced.

Marly didn't think a man could look so good in worn, whitish combination underwear and slouching gray socks.

She suppressed a sigh.

As Jase took care of his ablutions, she swapped out her good shirt for one more suitable for the trail. She pulled a fresh pair of socks out of her packed bag and placed them on the night stand. The odd sock she used to give herself the right shape beneath the belt was tucked beneath her pillow.

Jase turned around just as she was adjusting her drawers.

There was an awkward moment.

Finally, Marly grinned. "Egan should see me like this. That would cool his ardor."

With an intensity in his gaze, Jase closed the distance between them. He ran his hands over her shoulders, down her back.

Off balance, she held onto his hips.

"It doesn't cool my ardor," he whispered in her ear.

Her arms wrapped instinctively around his neck, their bodies pressed so close she could feel the outline of his muscles through two layers of knit. One muscle, in particular, pressed hard against her belly.

It excited and frightened her.

Charlie had often found a way of pressing against her to show how she affected him. That had been exciting at first too. Then it was intrusive and threatening. He certainly never made her feel the way she did now.

Marly raised her face expectantly. A familiar hunger haunted Jase's expression, but she also saw tenderness and...anguish?

She reached up and cupped his cheek. He had no reason for anguish. She wouldn't refuse him.

He took her hand from his cheek and pressed a kiss to her palm before letting go and backing away.

"Better get to sleep," he said.

Marly woke at dawn.

Jase and most of their gear were gone.

After a moment of panic, she washed and dressed with urgent efficiency. She was taking a last look around the office to make sure nothing was missed when Jase came in with Hank in tow.

"I've eaten already," Jase announced. "Why don't you two go have ham and eggs on me? Fred's got the kitchen open just for you."

Marly wasn't sure what to say.

Hank was duly thankful for the treat.

The Oasis was empty. Even Arnie hadn't started work yet, but there was one table set.

"I've never been here," Hank confided. "It's really something."

"Why don't you look around?" she suggested. "I'll give the kitchen our order."

Hank nodded, already absorbed in Jezebel's portrait.

"Ah, Master Landers," Fred greeted her. "Ready for breakfast? Master Jason ordered ham and eggs, biscuits, home fried potatoes and coffee, of course. Will that suit you?"

"Sounds wonderful. Is everything okay?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Jase is acting a bit strange."

Fred paused in his task of trimming two ham steaks of their excess fat. His eyes mirrored her concern, but a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Jason Strac
han is―by nature, if not by birth―a gentleman. Consider what it is like for a gentleman to be put in the role of guardian to a young lady masquerading as a boy. Especially now that you'll be alone on the trail together."

Marly picked at a hangnail. "Maybe
that's all it is…"

She started back to the saloon, but before the kitchen door swung shut, she turned back to Fred. "You know, I never asked him to be my guardian."

"No, I never supposed you did."

She left him, feeling more conflicted than ever.

An hour later, Hank and Marly strolled into the livery yard.

Jase, Birke and Grandee were waiting.

Bob Sloane led out a sorrel mare, whose reddish coat and strawberry-blonde mane complimented Marly's own coloring. Marly's saddle was already on the horse's back, the carbine in the holster.

As brown eyes met Marly's blue ones, the horse quieted.

Jase mounted Grandee, waiting as she stowed her gear.

"All set?" Hank asked, giving the horse an admiring once-over.

"Yep."

Marly offered her hand. Hank shook it gravely, then gave her a friendly slap on the shoulder. Resisting the urge to rub the stinging muscle, she turned to Birke. "I left my badge in the desk in case you need a spare."

He gave a nod.

"That reminds me," Jase said, leaning down with one hand outstretched. "Take care of this for now, okay?"

The marshal's badge slipped into Birke's hand before he could blink.

Marly pulled on her gloves and mounted up. "Let's ride."

Hank held the gate and waved them off.

As Marly and Jase walked their horses through town, the townspeople lined the rode to say goodbye. Fred stood in the forefront of a small group of Oasis employees. Jezebel and her girls alternated between waving and sniffling into their dress sleeves. Other townsfolk called their farewells as they passed.

At the end of Main Street, Jase turned Grandee. Marly followed his lead. Then they galloped down the road to El Paso.