Читать книгу To Tease A Texan - Georgina Gentry - Страница 7

Larado was still feeling like the dogs had been dragging him around under the porch as he and Snake went into the bank.

“Damn, I’m cold,” Snake muttered. He had his hat pulled low and his collar turned up.

Larado felt cold too, and his nose was dripping. As they approached the teller’s cage, he pulled out his red bandana and brought it up to wipe his nose.

The little teller looked up as the two approached the counter. With alarm, he noted that they didn’t look like anyone to fool with. What’s more, one of them had his collar up as if to hide his identity, the other appeared to be holding a bandana over his face. Before either of the two could say anything, he yelled, “Mr. Barclay, come out here, we’re being robbed!”

“What? Mister, you’re makin’ a big mistake—” Larado blinked as the fat owner came running out of the back room, waving a shotgun. From the corner of his eye, he saw Snake go for his Colt. Instinctively Larado grabbed for his too. His hand was still shaky from the booze, and he dropped it. When the Colt hit the floor it went off, and the bullet hit the big kerosene light fixture with a resounding roar, resulting in a shower of broken glass.

“Don’t shoot!” the little teller begged. “We’ll give you the money.”

“Over my dead body!” the fat owner yelled.

Snake pointed his pistol at the bank official. “Mr. Barclay, I reckon that can be arranged.”

“Snake, are you loco?” Larado said. “We ain’t—”

“Shut up!” Snake snapped. “You! Open that damned safe!”

The fat man was shaking as he laid the shotgun on the counter and turned to open the door to the big black safe. He pulled out two leather sacks and tossed them across the counter. “Just don’t kill us.”

Snake grabbed both sacks as Larado, his vision blurred, leaned over and picked up his pistol. From outside, he heard the noise of shouting and running as people on the street must have figured out what was happening.

“Let’s get out of here!” Snake commanded.

Larado needed no urging. How had he gotten mixed up in this anyhow? He saw the fat man reaching for the shotgun again and that put wings on his feet. As they ran out the front door, the shotgun roared and Snake screamed, “I’m hit!” followed by a string of oaths. Larado stopped to help him even as Snake stumbled and dropped one of the bank bags. Larado grabbed it up.

The fat banker ran out of the bank waving the shotgun and yelling, “Stop them two robbers! They’ve just killed my teller!” He aimed and fired again.

“Oh hell!” Snake swore. “He’s reloaded. We may get the next one in the butt!”

That’d make for mighty sore riding. Larado ran even faster. Out on the wooden sidewalk, Lark hung on to the reins gamely although the scared horses reared and almost lifted her off the ground.

With a curse, Snake yanked his reins from the girl’s hand and tried to mount. Around them, people were running and shouting for the sheriff.

“We got to get out of here!” Larado yelled and helped Snake mount up.

Lark’s dark eyes were wide with surprise. “What are you two—?”

“Shut up!” Snake snarled.

“It ain’t polite to tell a lady to shut up!” Larado scolded him.

“We got a town comin’ to lynch us, a riled-up banker wavin’ a shotgun, and you’re worried about how to treat a lady?” Snake said.

“Well,” Larado said, “after all, I am a Texan.”

The banker fired again and Snake let loose with a string of oaths. “We’ll meet at my camp on the bend of Rock Creek. You know the place?”

Larado nodded.

“Then let’s get the hell out of here!”

The fat banker now stopped to reload his weapon as men ran out of businesses carrying rifles and shotguns.

They didn’t look like a crowd who would listen to any explanation, Larado thought. He jerked his reins from Lark’s hand and mounted up, leaving the astonished girl staring up at him as he galloped away. He wished he had time to explain to her that the whole thing was a big mistake, but there appeared to be a lynch party gathering up and he didn’t intend to be the honoree. At the end of the street he and Snake split up, each heading a different direction. When he looked back, Lark still stood there with her pretty mouth open as if she were catching flies. Hell, he didn’t want her to think badly of him, but it was too late to explain.

Chico was a fast horse, and Larado was a good rider, so he was soon out on the rolling prairie some miles from town. He reined in to rest his lathered mount. “Larado, you damn fool, how did you get yourself into this mess?”

Last night he had lost almost everything at cards when he never should have gone in there. He wasn’t a very good poker player, but he’d been desperate. Today, he’d gone into a bank, blown his nose, and was suddenly in the midst of a bank robbery with people shooting at him. Then he discovered he was still holding on to the bank bag Snake had dropped in all the confusion. He hefted it in his hand. “Pretty lightweight, must be all bills.”

Money. This morning he had been flat broke except for his gold watch and his horse and saddle. Now he held untold riches in his big fist. His first inclination was to turn around, go back to town, and turn it over to the bank. “Are you loco, Larado?” he muttered to himself. “They’d have you swingin’ from a rafter of a barn before you could tell them it was all a big mistake—even if that fat banker didn’t shoot you first.”

Snake. That rascal had gotten him in a lot of trouble, but maybe Snake hadn’t meant to—maybe he was just like Larado, always being misunderstood. Snake had taken some buckshot in the arm and might be bleeding to death somewhere. Even if he didn’t much like the hombre, it wasn’t like a Texan to abandon a man who was in a bad way.

Larado turned in his saddle and looked behind him, squinting in the early morning sun. He didn’t see a posse coming yet, but it shouldn’t take too long for one to form up and come looking for the two bank robbers. “I reckon I ought to light a shuck for Texas, bein’ as how as I got all this money and that posse may be hot on my trail, but I can’t leave Snake hurt and bleedin’ somewhere.”

The camp on the bend of Rock Creek. Yep, he knew where that was, and certainly Snake trusted him to meet him there. It didn’t make good sense to alter his course, but then, Texans might be brave but they weren’t always known for their good sense. Maybe he could convince Snake they’d be better off to explain to the law that it had all been a big mistake and return the money. He turned Chico to the east and headed for Rock Creek.

Lark had stood gaping in surprise as the two yanked the reins from her hands, mounted up, and put the spurs to their horses. “Land’s sake, what—?”

She didn’t get a chance to finish as the two galloped away. It was pretty obvious what had happened, with the fat banker waving his shotgun and men running from every direction. “Those two killers shot down my poor teller in cold blood!” he wailed. “And after I give them the money, too!”

“Lynch ’em!” the barber yelled, and the cry was taken up by the others. “Dirty robbers, we’ll string ’em up. No need to wait for a trial.”

Another man paused to stare at Lark. “Hey, that gal was in on it. She was holdin’ their horses and bein’ the lookout.”

“No, you’re mistaken.” Lark drew herself up proudly. “I know nothing about this.”

“We’ll deal with her later,” the blacksmith said. “Let’s get saddled up and get them outlaws before the trail gets cold.”

Men appeared from everywhere on horseback and in buckboards. “Come on, Mr. Barclay,” one called to the banker. “We’ll need you to identify them.”

The fat man clambered up into the rig, still hanging on to his shotgun. “I’ll give ’em a double load of buckshot for killin’ my teller,” he vowed.

“Shouldn’t we wait to be deputized?” another man asked.

“Oh, hell no!” another swore. “We ain’t gonna do nothin’ official, just string up a couple of polecats.”

The whole mob took off out of town in a cloud of dust and jingling spurs, leaving Lark and a curious hound dog staring after the posse.

“Oh my, now what am I supposed to do? They’ll never believe I wasn’t part of the plot. All I was trying to do was get the next stage.” She looked up and down the street. A few curious women and some children were poking heads out of windows to see what the excitement was about. The stage must be running late. In a few minutes, some of the posse would surely be returning to arrest her.

“That damn Texan,” she muttered. “If he hadn’t had such a charming grin, I wouldn’t have tried to help him last night and got myself fired. Now look at the mess he just got me into.” In her mind, she imagined revenge, like maybe tying him down, Comanche style, on a bed of red ants. His charming, lopsided grin might fade then.

What was she going to do? By the time the stage got here, she’d be wearing handcuffs and locked up in the hoosegow. “Think, Lark, think. This mob isn’t going to listen to your explanation. What would your smart sister do?”

Lacey wouldn’t get herself into a mess like this in the first place, she decided, not over some big, stupid cowboy. For a moment, there didn’t seem to be anyone on the streets. Picking up her small valise, she hurried down the nearest alley to get out of sight. Maybe she could hide there until the stage came though. Land’s sake, that wouldn’t work—they’d stop the stage and check it first thing, or at least go on to the next town, knowing she might get off there. Damn that Texan. That grinning cowboy had gotten her into more trouble in half a day than she could get out of in a week of Sundays.

Behind the barber shop, an old gray horse stood dozing, hitched to a wagonload of manure. “Well, any transportation beats nothing.” At least this was one way she bested Lacey. Lark had always been a tomboy and could ride and rope and shoot like a man. She’d been happiest on her uncle Trace’s ranch, but she’d been sent off to school with her smart, perfect sister to Miss Priddy’s Female Academy in Boston in an attempt to turn Lark into a lady. It hadn’t worked.

Lark considered taking the wagon, then decided a woman driving a wagonload of manure would attract too much attention. Instead, she unhitched the old horse and took his harness off. Hiking her dark blue skirts, she swung up on the bony back, balancing her small valise before her. She slapped the old horse on the neck and he started off at a slow walk.

“If I ever get my hands on that cowboy, I’ll wring his neck!” she vowed. “He’s cost me my job, got me tangled up in a bank robbery, and now I’m a horse thief on the run—riding a fugitive from the glue factory.”

Which way to go? If she went due south along the stage route, that might be the first place a posse might look. Maybe if she rode to some settlement off the beaten path, she could get a job, or at least stay out of jail until she could decide what to do next.

The old gray horse had a backbone like a razor that cut into her bottom. If she were a real lady, she would only ride sidesaddle. “Who are you kidding?” she said. “Ladies don’t steal horses, especially not a nag tied to a manure wagon. Your prissy sister would have an attack of the vapors if she knew what her twin was doing.”

That made her smile to picture it. However, there was nothing funny about her predicament, Lark thought as she rode. She wondered if the posse had caught the pair. Funny, she might have expected something like this from the ugly, scar-faced one, but she’d thought Larado was just a Texas cowboy dealing with some bad luck. He didn’t seem like a bank robber. “Now, Lark,” she lectured herself, “how would you know what a bank robber was like—have you ever met one before?”

Of course not. She’d lived a sheltered life on her uncle’s big ranch until she’d been sent away to school, failed there, came home, felt she had to compete with her twin, and run away. It was just so much easier to flee than compete.

As the day passed, she rode to the outskirts of a small town and drew in. “Whoa, old horse. This place looks pretty isolated. Maybe I can hide out here until things blow over.”

She dismounted, turned the old horse back the way they had come, and slapped it on the rear. It broke into a dead walk and started up the road toward Buck Shot. “At least they won’t get me for horse stealing.”

She watched the gray nag until it disappeared over the horizon, knowing it would return to its own stable. She smiled as she pictured the puzzled owner trying to figure out how that old horse had gotten out of its harness and unhitched itself from that wagon.

With any luck, she’d find a job and start fresh—a respectable job. She hadn’t been cut out to be a saloon girl. If that damned Texan should ever show up here, she’d make him wish he’d let the posse get him. The posse. Even now, the two might be dangling from a cottonwood tree. “That would wipe the grin off that devilish face,” she said to herself. Still, the thought bothered her. He’d been too charming for any woman not to care what happened.

Her bottom was so sore, she could hardly walk and her blue dress was covered with dust. As she limped down Main Street of this settlement, she made up an excuse about how a passing wagon had given her a lift. Damn that Texan, anyhow.

Larado galloped into the Rock Creek camp and dismounted. Dixie waited there on this cool morning. She wore a tight red dress, and there was a rented buggy tied to a nearby tree.

“You seen anything of Snake?” he asked.

“No.” Her painted face seemed guarded.

“Well, he told me to meet him here. We’re in a real mess, Dixie. With that buckshot he took in the arm, I was afraid he might not make it.”

She didn’t seem too concerned about her lover’s health. “Looks like you got all the money.”

He shrugged. “Reckon I got some.”

“Hell, to tell the truth, cowboy, he’s already been here and gone. You and me ought to skedaddle together.”

Larado swore under his breath and shook his head. “I didn’t reckon he’d double-cross me. What’d he say?”

“Not much. Gone off to find a doctor, I reckon. Told me to tell you he hadn’t showed up, and he’d meet up with me later.”

Larado tied his horse to a tree, took the bank bag, and tossed it onto the ground by the fire. “Hell, I never meant to get mixed up in no bank robbery. It just happened. Now we got a posse after us.”

Her blue eyes gleamed as she picked up the bank bag. “Kinda light—you get away with much?”

“Reckon it’s all bills.” Larado sighed as he knelt by the fire and poured himself a cup of coffee from the big tin pot. “I don’t aim to keep it. I was gonna talk to Snake about straightenin’ this out by returnin’ it.”

“You must be loco,” she sneered. “You get away with bank cash and you want to turn it back? Think of what this could buy, Larado.”

“But I ain’t a crook,” he said. “I don’t think Snake intended for this to happen.”

“You don’t know Snake. He get much?”

“He got one bag, just like me. There’s a posse maybe on my trail, Dixie, you should clear out.”

“Go with me. Don’t you want to know where Snake’s gone?”

He shook his head. “Reckon if he’d double-cross me, it don’t matter. I’m gonna figure out how to return this loot and head back to Texas.”

She ran her tongue slowly over her lips. Her scarlet dress was so tight, it showed her voluptuous curves. “Take me with you, Larado.”

“What? I thought you was Snake’s gal.”

She shrugged, coming over and to look up at him. “I liked what I got the other night. You and I could be a pair.”

Before he could speak, she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him—a long, lingering, sensual kiss that made him gasp in surprise and drop his coffee cup. For a moment he wanted to grab her, throw her down on the blanket by the campfire, and take her right then, knowing how warm and ripe she would be. Then he saw the image in his mind of a tall brunette in a dark blue dress staring up at him as he took the horse and rode away. He reckon he owed that Lark girl an apology. Maybe when he went back to return the money, he’d hunt her down and explain how everything happened.

He reached up and untangled Dixie’s arms from around his neck. “This ain’t right, Dixie.”

She laughed, a hard, brittle laugh. “Neither is robbin’ a bank. You remind me of a gambler I used to know, Larado, a man I really cared about. Take me with you and I’ll make you glad you did.”

“Naw, can’t do that.” He pushed his Stetson back. “I’m broke and there’s a posse lookin’ for me. I ain’t gonna add to my troubles by stealin’ Snake’s girl.”

“Are you loco?” she demanded as she confronted him. “I told you he’s already deserted you, probably figurin’ the posse will find this camp soon enough.”

“I’m a Texan, Dixie, I’m as good as my word.”

She said something obscene, walked over, and picked up the bank bag. “Well, let’s just see how much you got away with.”

“Won’t do you no good, I ain’t keepin’ it.”

She ignored him and pulled the drawstring, shaking the bag. When she did, a bundle of cut newspaper fell out in a shower and fluttered to the ground. “What the—?”

Larado strode over and knelt by her side, picking up a fistful of paper. “This can’t be. Why would a bank keep chopped paper in their safe?”

Dixie shrugged. “Well, I reckon the joke is on you, Larado. You didn’t steal no money after all.”

He wiped his face with his bandana. “Hell, that’s a relief. Maybe when the banker tells them we didn’t get no cash, it’ll all be a big joke.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. You think Snake’s bag has real money in it?”

“How would I know?” Larado shrugged. “Didn’t he open it while he was here?”

“Uh, no, he was in too big a hurry.”

“Then he’s the one you’d better go with, Dixie. He may be a rich man.”

She favored him with a smile. “It don’t make no never mind, cowboy, I’d still rather go with you.”

He shook his head again. “Sorry, sweetie, but one can travel faster than two, and I’m broke. Since I didn’t steal no money, I reckon I’ll ride on to Texas and lose myself down there. When you see Snake, tell him about the fake bills, will you? I wouldn’t want him to think I tried to cheat him.”

“Oh, you Texans. I don’t know whether you’re stupid or too principled to live.” She gave him a beseeching look. “I ain’t known many men with principles, Larado. Take me with you. I promise you won’t regret it.”

He was already striding to his horse. “There’s a posse lookin’ for me, so you don’t need trouble like that. I’m givin’ you some advice; clear out before that posse shows up. Go back to town and wait for Snake to find you. And when you see that tall Texas gal….”

“Yes?”

He mounted up. “It don’t make no never mind. I reckon she’s mad as a rained-on hen for the trouble I caused her.”

“You mean about losin’ her job?”

He paused, pushed his hat back. “No, about this mornin’. What about her job?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Joe fired her last night.”

“That’s a damned shame. Why did he do that?”

She wasn’t about to tell him about the cat fight. “For pourin’ beer on you. She was a lousy barmaid. So long, Larado. If you ever change your mind, I’ll probably be right here workin’ at the Last Chance unless something better comes along.”

He nodded to her, turned his horse, and loped away.

Dixie stood there watching him until he was a dot on the far horizon. She could have cared about the lanky cowboy—only the second man she’d cared about in a long string of men that began when she was a ragged girl in Atlanta. Dixie was the bastard child of a Yankee soldier and a desperate slut from a Georgia cotton patch. Dixie’s whole life had been a battle to survive.

What to do? Snake hadn’t showed up yet and might not if a posse was after him, or even if it wasn’t. Larado said he’d been shot, but he had a bank bag. She’d be a sitting duck waiting for that posse if she got caught with this bank bag, even if there was no real money. Now she wondered how she could turn this mess to her advantage. After some thought, she gathered up the bank bag and the chopped newspaper and put them in the campfire. The flames leapt as the evidence burned. She took a stick and stirred the fire, then watched until everything was burned beyond recognition. What should she do now? There was always the chance that Snake’s bank bag was full of cash, and Dixie was greedy. She intended to end up with whatever Snake had stolen.

In a few minutes, Snake rode into camp on a lathered bay. “Hallo the camp!”

“Come on in,” she yelled. “I’m the only one here.”

He rode in and dismounted, tossing the bank bag at her feet. “Here you go, baby.”

“Oh, you’re hurt.” She feigned concern at the blood on his sleeve, but her gaze was on the bag.

He shrugged, looking at his bloody sleeve. “A few shotgun pellets from that damned banker. Not as bad as I first thought. There’s probably a posse behind me, so we need to clear out. Larado show up?”

“Uh, no. Was he supposed to?” She was angry at Larado for spurning her.

Snake began to curse. “He seemed pretty honest or maybe just stupid. I dropped one of the bags when we ran out of the bank and Larado picked it up. We were lucky to get away. All we had was pistols and that banker had a double-barreled shotgun.”

“Well, honey.” She gave him a bewitching smile. “Let’s see the loot.”

Snake grabbed it up. “Heavy,” he said and poured the contents out on the blanket, then began to curse again. “I’ll be damned, mostly change, a couple of double eagles.” He sorted through it. “I’ll be double damned. Probably not more than fifty dollars total, and I almost got myself killed for this. I reckon that damned Texan got the big stuff, that double-crossin’ sidewinder. I ought to hunt him down and kill him.”

Dixie was still smarting from Larado’s rejection. “Yeah, you should. He gets away with the big money and you get nothin’ much. You deserve better, honey.”

“I was gonna buy you some presents,” he grumbled.

“Maybe next time. Can I have the double eagles?”

“Naw,” he snapped. “You greedy little bitch. Gimme the double eagles. You can have the small change. Too bad I grabbed the wrong bag. Now that Texan’s gonna be rich and comfortable.”

Somewhere in the distance, they heard gunshots, and on the far ridge, she saw the posse strung out in a long line. “I reckon they’re signalin’ each other. You better clear out of here, Snake.”

“You too.”

She shook her head. “Naw, they won’t do anything to me because they won’t connect me to the robbery. Besides, half them respectable men is my customers when their wives ain’t lookin’. They wouldn’t want me tattlin’ on them. You just clear on out, and I’ll delay them while you get away.”

“You’re one in a million, Dixie. I’ll hide out and maybe come back for you sometime.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive—I always do. Now get out of here.” She picked up the empty bank bag and tossed it into the fire. “Now there’s nothin’ to connect this camp to any bank robbery.”

“You’re smart for a woman, Dixie. I won’t forget you.”

“Sure, sure.” She didn’t care about Snake. He didn’t have any money, and she wanted a man who could give her nice things, a fancy carriage and a big house. “Get!”

Snake swung into the saddle, nodded to her, and rode out. She watched him go until he was only a speck on the horizon. He was heading in a different direction than Larado, so he wouldn’t meet up with him and learn Dixie had lied. Anyway, Snake would never believe Larado’s bank bag had been full of paper. He’d go looking for Larado for betraying him. For a split second, her conscience bothered her, because she knew what a good shot Snake was. Still, she was mad at the Texan for spurning her. And worse than that, he seemed attracted to that tall brunette at the Last Chance. That annoyed Dixie. She turned and watched the posse coming over the hill. The Texan deserved whatever he got—and that pretty Lark too. It was ironic, maybe. Lark’s twin sister Lacey had stolen the other man that Dixie had cared for.

The posse rode into camp and dismounted.

“Hi, boys, out for a picnic on this spring day?”

The deputy pulled at his gray mustache and frowned at her. “What you doin’ out here by yourself?”

“Waitin’ for you boys to show up,” she drawled. She had put the change down the front of her corset cover, and she could feel it, cold, but comforting there.

“You wouldn’t be waitin’ for anyone, would you?” The men dismounted and looked around the site.

“I told you I was waitin’ for you,” she pouted.

“Don’t play with us, Dixie,” the deputy snapped. “There’s been a bank robbery in town and the teller was shot in the back. We’re lookin’ for two dirty yellow killers.”

She tried to keep her lip from trembling. Neither Larado nor Snake had said anything about killing a man. That made this much more serious. If the posse got either of them, they’d hang them on the spot. “You gonna take me in?”

“You know anything about this?” one of the deputies asked.

“No, and that’s the God’s truth.”

The deputy glanced skyward. “Be careful, girl, a lightning bolt might come out of the sky and hit you.”

“Well, you can take me in, boys, if you want, but I might start tellin’ all the wives in town what some of you boys are actually doin’ when they think you’re at a Civic Club meetin’ or the church fundraiser committee.”

A number of the men looked away, shuffled their boots, and cleared their throats.

The deputy said, “Well, it’s plain she don’t know anything—she’s just a common whore. Let’s ride on.”

“How dare you, Cliff Rainey?” she snapped. “I’m the best ride you ever had. You don’t think I’m so common when you’re sneakin’ up to my room while your wife’s off visitin’ her sister.”

His face turned brick red and the other men laughed. “She’s right,” the barber said. “Taking her in will only get us in trouble with our women. Let’s ride on.”

The others seemed to suddenly remember that they’d spent a little time up in Dixie’s room too. The deputy cleared his throat. “Reckon you’re right, Jim. Let’s get back on the trail. Miss Dixie, you’d better head back to town.”

“Well, I will, unless some of you got time for a quickie.”

“Don’t mind if I do!” A couple of men stepped forward. The deputy roared, “What in tarnation you fellas thinkin’ of? We ain’t got time for women now. We’re on a manhunt. Now get ridin’.”

Reluctantly, the men headed to their horses. She’d bedded most of them at one time or another, but how many more years before she’d be too old for men to want her? “Bye, boys, see you back in town.”

They mounted up, tipped their hats, and rode out. The wind had picked up, blowing dust across horse tracks, so she knew it would be difficult to follow either Larado or Snake. She watched the posse leave, heading in the wrong direction. If the deputy had offered a little reward, she would have told him everything she knew, because she didn’t give a damn about Snake and Larado didn’t give a damn about her.

Somewhere, there was a man who would buy her fine clothes and a fancy house. She watched until the posse had ridden away and sighed. One more night ahead of her, flat on her back for a dollar, under any drunk who wanted her for a few minutes. Abruptly she was sick of all that, sick of being a common whore. What she needed to escape this life was money, plenty of money.

Dixie stared into the dwindling campfire a moment before kicking dirt over it to put it out. Her mind was busy. Now, if Larado didn’t have the bank money and Snake didn’t have the bank money, who did? She thought about it a long time as she gathered up her things. Then the sudden knowledge popped into her mind like someone lighting a lamp. She grinned. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of that? Humming happily to herself, she hitched up her rented buggy and rode toward town. She’d get those fine clothes and glittering jewelry after all.