Elise Page 15

"I know her grandmother would prefer that," George added.

  "I wish she could see you now," Andy put in.

  All three men laughed as they imagined what Claire's reaction would be.

  "Gabe told us about Boyd. If your grandmother had been here, he wouldn't have stood a chance against her. But I'm glad Claire isn't here." George turned serious. "She'd be worried about you. This looks like it could be a rough crowd."

  "Dan warned me about that."

  "Do you think you've done enough research for the night?" Trace asked, ready to get her out of there.

  "I told Fernada I'd work until midnight."

  Trace glanced at his pocketwatch. "You've got another hour to go."

  "I guess I'd better make the rounds and visit with some more customers. Jenny's still with Boyd, and Kate just took another man upstairs." The thought that the women were selling their bodies just to survive sent a shiver of disgust through her. She had always believed that lovemaking should be a beautiful experience between a husband and a wife, an expression of deep, heartfelt emotion, not a cold, calculated business transaction.

  "Just keep an eye out for Boyd when he comes back down," Trace cautioned her.

  "I hope I'm long gone by then."

  "So do I."

  The three men watched as she moved away to take care of business.

  George and Andy left a short time later, once they were assured that Gabe was going to escort Elise safely home.

  Trace remained observantly quiet at his table for a while longer, then joined in a poker game. He won some and lost some and was just about breaking even when midnight rolled around. He watched as Elise disappeared upstairs with Femada. He didn't want her going home alone at this time of night, so they had prearranged for him to meet her at the back door. As Trace left the High Time to get the carriage he'd rented, he smiled to himself at the realization that this was the first time he'd ever been this glad to leave a saloon.

  The alley was dark and narrow and deserted, making Trace even more glad that he'd insisted on accompanying Elise home. He didn't have to wait long for her. She slipped out of the saloon's back door and into the fresh night air as if she were making a great escape. Femada had thought it best that she leave this way, so none of the customers could see her.

  "Elise?"

  "Thank heavens you're here," she said, relieved as she went straight to him. "That was one long night."

  Trace stared down at her in the darkness. She was the real Elise once more in her demure, high-necked gown and wearing her dark hair sedately restrained in a bun at the nape of her neck. For just an instant as his gaze went over her, he almost missed the red satin dress that had showed off her figure to such great advantage. He grew irritated with himself for even having the thought.

  "Let's get you home. I left the carriage at the end of the alley."

  He offered her his arm, and she took it, allowing him to lead her down the darkened passageway.

  "Are you sure you want to do this again tomorrow night?"

  "I have to. I want to learn more about the girls who work there."

  "It's not what you're learning about the girls that worries me. It's men like Boyd."

  "Don't worry. I have no intention of going anywhere near him again, but I am beginning to wonder-is this what men are really like? Buddy and Art were bad enough, but Boyd-" She shuddered as she remembered the feel of his hands upon her.

  "No. We're not all like them," he said stiffly.

  "So there are still men of honor out there somewhere?" Elise said thoughtfully. "I have to admit, I have my doubts. I don't think my ideal man exists anymore."

  "What's your definition of the ideal man?"

  "You really want to know?" Elise looked up at Gabe. In the muted moonlight, the line of his jaw looked strong, and he suddenly seemed a powerful, fiercely determined man to her. She knew it was only the shadowed darkness that gave him that appearance, though. This was, after all, just Gabe.

  "Your ideal is obviously none of the men who patronize the High Time."

  "No. My ideal man wouldn't drink himself stupid at a saloon. My ideal man is strong and brave and moral. He would defend those who needed defending, and he would stand for something, like Sheriff Jackson from Eagle Pass."

  "But he ended up dead," was all Trace could say. He was completely shocked by her statement.

  "But he was doing what was right," she said quietly. "My ideal man would be so wonderful that he'd sweep me off my feet, and he'd protect me-even from myself."

  "Now that might be a bit difficult, even for your perfect man," Trace told her with a grin. "He'd have one heck of a time keeping up with you. First Preacher Farnsworth and then with men like Boyd, and who knows what your next story is going to be about?"

  "You're right." She finally managed to laugh and relax a little bit. "He probably doesn't exist anywhere." She paused, then looked up at him and gave him a gentle smile. "Thank you."

  "For what?" He glanced down at her surprised.

  "For staying with me tonight. It was reassuring to know that you were there in case anything went wrong."

  "I won't let anyone or anything hurt you, Elise," he vowed.

  They fell silent then. When they reached the carriage, Trace helped her in and climbed in himself. He took up the reins once they'd settled in.

  "Your grandmother's going to be glad to see you when you get home tonight."

  "Do you suppose she's waiting up for me?" "George said she was going to. She told him she wasn't going to be able to rest until you were back home with her, safe and sound. What time do you have to be here tomorrow?" Trace asked, already trying to plan the best way to handle the next night.

  "Fernada wants me to start by eight o'clock."

  "I'll come to your house and pick you up."

  "Are you sure you want to stay at the High Time all night?"

  "I'm not leaving you there alone," he declared, then modified his statement when he realized how he sounded. "You're my employee. It's my responsibility to keep you safe."

  For a moment, Elise had almost thought Gabe cared about her, but his statement had reaffirmed that he only thought of her as an employee. She should have remembered that and not have been foolish enough to let herself think otherwise. She wondered why it had mattered to her that he only thought of her as someone who worked for him. She didn't care about Gabe, other than the fact that he was her boss.

  When they reached the house, she didn't wait for him to help her descend, but climbed down by herself. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

  "Good night." He was surprised by her hurried departure, but said nothing. He watched her until she'd gone inside before driving off.

  Boyd sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed up the whiskey bottle that was sitting on the nightstand. He tilted it to his lips and took a long swallow of the powerful liquor.

  "Why are you leaving me so soon?" Jenny asked from where she lay naked behind him on her bed. She'd managed to keep him entertained for the better part of three hours, and she hoped to be paid handsomely for the effort. Boyd was a brute of a man, but he did like to throw his money around.

  "I want to go downstairs and have some more fun. Get dressed. I've had enough for one night."

  "I haven't," she said suggestively as she reached out to caress his bare back.

  "Don't!" He stood up to avoid her touch.

  "You don't want me no more?"

  "That's right."

  "What do you mean `that's right?' "Jenny snapped in drunken outrage.

  "I've got a hankering to play me some poker. Now leave me alone. I'm getting dressed." His words were slurred from all that he'd been drinking.

  "I can make you want me again," she said, leaving the bed to go to him.

  But Boyd was not in the mood for her to cling to him. He was still thinking of Sugar, and he wanted to go downstairs and find her right then. He hadn't been able to put her out of his mind the whole time he'd been with Jenny, and that was unusual for him.
Usually when he was with Jenny he forgot everything, but not tonight-and that was why he had to go find her. He wasn't going to let her get away from him that easily. He'd wanted her, and he meant to have her no matter what Femada said and no matter how mad Jenny got.

  Jenny came up behind Boyd as he struggled drunkenly to pull on his pants. She ran her hands knowingly over him, allowing herself free access to all of him.

  "Damn it, woman!" Boyd snarled, jumping at her unexpected touch. He swung around and physically threw her on the bed. "I told you to leave me alone!"

  Jenny lay sprawled before him, expecting him to be aroused and take her. It shocked her when he continued to get dressed. "But BoydI need you."

  "You don't need anything but a big stiff one, whore! It doesn't matter who's sticking it to you!" he said viciously as he fastened his pants and tugged on his boots and shirt.

  She came up off the bed at his ugly words, furious. She had just spent hours pleasing him, and this was how he treated her! "How can you say that?"

  "Because it's the truth. Now get outta my way."

  She blocked his path to the door. "I don't want you to go."

  He dug in his pants pocket and threw a wad of bills on her dresser. "There's your money."

  When he brushed past her, Jenny tried to grab him. She didn't care that he'd already told her he didn't want her. She felt sure she could convince him otherwise. The blow came with such surprising force that she was knocked across the room. She cried out as she fell heavily to the floor, her lip split and bleeding.

  "Boyd-"

  He didn't say another word, but stomped from the room, glad to be away from her. He heard the sounds of revelry still coming from downstairs and he was glad. He wanted to dance with Elise some more.

  "Where did Sugar go?" he demanded of Dan as he went up to the bar and ordered another whiskey.

  "She's gone for the night."

  "Where the hell did she go? I'll go get her and bring her back!"

  "No, you ain't going to do that," Fernada said, having heard his question to Dan. "She's off now."

  "When she gonna be coming back?"

  "She'll be here tomorrow night."

  He mumbled angrily under his breath as he downed the drink Dan gave him. "Then I'll be back."

  With that, he stumbled out of the High Time.

  Femada and Dan were glad to see him go. They were also greatly relieved that Elise had gone before he'd come back downstairs. The last thing they needed was a fight in the saloon, and they were certain they would have had one had he gone after Elise again. They shared a look of understanding as they realized what the next night might bring.

  Will Campbell was tense. He had waited too long for the moment, and he had traveled too far. Heavy cloud cover blocked any light the moon might have offered, and he was glad for the shroud of blackness. He couldn't risk being seen by anyone-not tonight.

  He'd reached the designated meeting place just outside the small town of Canyon Creek on time, but no one else had shown up yet. As late as it was getting, he was beginning to wonder if they would show up at all. He had received a message that they would be there, though, so he did not leave. He stayed, watching and waiting, his gun ever ready at his side.

  "How the hell did you ever get to be a lawman, Campbell?" a sneering voice asked from nearby.

  Will jumped and automatically started to go for his gun, but stopped. "You're here." He was relieved.

  "Yeah, I'm here. Me and the boys have been watching you sweat for at least five minutes. If we'd been Indians, you'd have been dead and scalped by now."

  Derisive laughter followed this remark as Matt Harris and his men appeared out of the night.

  Will, however, didn't think anything about the situation was funny. "What the hell took you so long? I sent word to you like you told me to weeks ago," he demanded.

  Harris stepped closer to confront him. "Where I've been and what I've been doing ain't none of your business, Campbell. I pay you. You answer to me."

  "This is important! I wouldn't have tried to contact you if it wasn't! I don't want to risk-"

  "I know," Harris jeered. "You don't want to risk the nice new job you got. Being sheriff in Eagle Pass must sit real good with you."

  "That doesn't have a damned thing to do with it!"

  "Well, then, what is this important news you've got? Is there a big gold shipment coming through? Or maybe an army payroll?" Matt's eyes gleamed with avarice at the thought that Will might really have some good news for him.

  "This ain't about money! It's Jackson!"

  "What about Jackson? He's rotting in his grave by now."

  "No, he's not! He's alive." Will delivered the message he'd been waiting weeks to relay.

  Matt's expression turned lethal at his words. "What do you mean, the bastard's still alive? There's no way Jackson could have lived through that ambush! He was dead! I was sure of it! I shot him point-blank myself!"

  "Well, your aim ain't as good as you thought it was! I saw him and talked to him!" Will insisted, angry that Matt didn't believe him.

  "I don't think you're funny." Matt took a threatening step toward Will.

  Will didn't budge. He looked him straight in the eye as he told him, "Trace showed up in Eagle Pass in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago."

  "You're crazy. He can't be alive! He was shot at least two times before I put a bullet in his back."

  "He's one tough bastard. You knew that when you started dealing with him. He came to the jail and told me everything that had happened to him. Nobody knows he's alive but me and the miner who saved him-and he wanted it to stay that way. He's alive and kicking and he's coming after you! He says there ain't nothing going to stop him from finding you and seeing you hang."

  Matt was ready to shoot Will right then and there. "And you let the son of a bitch just ride away?!" he asked in furious disbelief.

  "What the hell else was I supposed to do?"

  Unable to control his raging temper, Harris swung at him. The blow was vicious and Will went sprawling on the ground, blood oozing from his mouth.

  "Are you really this stupid?" He stared down at Will, his expression deadly. "You could have killed him! Nobody would have known! It would have saved me a whole helluva lot of trouble!" he snarled, swearing under his breath.

  Harris hated Trace Jackson. He'd enjoyed ambushing the posse and putting that last slug into Jackson's back. The bastard must have nine lives, though, to have lived through that.

  "Somebody would have heard the shot!" Will protested.

  Matt's expression turned even more savage. "You know, there ain't a soul around here who would hear it if I put a bullet into you right now!" He found the thought tempting, but even as he rested his hand on his sidearm, he realized he still needed Campbell-for now.

  Will was aware that he was treading on dangerous ground. Inwardly he was quaking. He knew how deadly Matt Harris could be, and he had no intention of incurring his wrath. "It isn't my fault it took you so long to get my message."

  "Did he say where he was heading?" Harris asked. He wanted to turn the tables on Jackson and find him first. Everybody knew Trace Jackson. The lawman would be seen, and when Jackson did turn up, he would be there ready and waiting for him.

  "He didn't tell me anything else. He promised he'd be in touch, but I haven't heard from him since he rode out that night. All I know is that he's planning on going after you."

  Matt gave a dangerous laugh. "Jackson may have lived through the ambush, but he's a walking dead man. He just doesn't know it yet."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "If you hear anything more from him, send word right away. I want him to keep thinking that everybody believes he's dead." He smiled in the darkness as he added, "The next time I see him, I won't miss."

  The threat was real, and Will was very glad he wasn't Trace as he rode away from his meeting with the gang.

  It was too late for him to go back to Eagle Pass tonight, so Will he
aded into Canyon Creek to spend the night. He needed a stiff drink. That was for sure. When Matt had threatened to shoot him, Will knew he hadn't been far from being serious.

  As Will made his solitary trek into town, he thought back over how he'd become involved with the Harris gang. He'd gotten tired of being known as one of Trace's deputies. Trace had never realized just how good he was, and he'd gotten sick of hearing everybody talk about what a great sheriff Jackson had been. Will had known Matt when he was a kid growing up in western Kansas, and when Matt had approached him and offered him a bribe to look the other way during the robbery in Eagle Pass, he'd accepted. He'd believed it would make Jackson look bad if the gang managed to pull off a bank robbery in his town. He had never expected innocent people to die, though, and then when Trace had gone after Matt and left him behind and in charge, he'd suddenly realized what he'd gotten himself into.

  And then the news had come of the deadly ambush.

  It was true that he had warned Matt that the posse was coming after him, but he'd told him so he could get away-not so he could double back and kill them all. The men in the posse had been his friends. Granted, he had fared well since their deaths. He was now the sheriff of Eagle Pass, and Matt was still paying him for information. Everything had seemed to be going well until Trace came back from the dead.

  Will's hands were shaking as he tied up at the Palace Saloon. He was worried-very worried. If Trace found out about his betrayal, or if Matt no longer thought Will could be of any use to him, he was a dead man. Contemplating his future was nerve-wracking. He needed tonight to forget for a while. No one knew who he was here in Canyon Creek, so it was safe for him to let his guard down for the night. He would worry about the rest tomorrow. Ready to lose himself in a night of drinking and women, he strode into the bar and ordered a whiskey.

  Boyd was back at the High Time nice and early the next night. He had done nothing but think about Sugar all day, and he was ready to spend the evening with her. He gave no thought to Jenny. She'd gotten on his nerves the night before with all her whining. He'd paid her what he owed her and felt no need to concern himself with her at all. He only wanted Sugar, and this time he wasn't going to take no for an answer. This time he was going to have herno matter what.