Hunter's Moon (Hunter Family Saga; Half-Moon Ranch 1) Read online

  "Matt didn't come with us," Quince answered him.

  Jack's eyes narrowed. "Why not? I've hauled him out of here often enough before, what with his drinking and whoring and carrying on." He glanced at Abby as if to say it was time she knew what kind of brother she had.

  "The truth is, he's gone. We don't know where," Quince said.

  "Gone?" Jack repeated in anger. He glared at Quince for a long moment. "I should have figured." He turned his cold-eyed regard on Brent. "Get out of here-all of you."

  "No, Pa," Brent said. "We're not leaving until we get some answers."

  "You want answers?" he demanded.

  "That's right," Brent went on, determined not to be denied. "Why did you do it, Pa? Why? We want to understand."

  "You want to understand? How can I make you understand, when I don't understand how it happened myself? I was drunk. We were arguing. The next thing I knew, she was dead."

  "That's your only explanation? That you were drunk? That the two of you were arguing?" Brent challenged angrily. "That's not good enough."

  "It's going to have to be. Your mother's dead. I'm guilty! What don't you understand about that? Go away and leave me alone!"

  "Papa!" Abby ran to the bars, tears streaming down her face.

  "Get out of here, and don't come back!" Jack ordered, turning his back on them. "I don't want to see any of you."

  "Abby... come on." Brent said, as he and Quince went to their little sister and drew her away from the cell and into the outer office.

  Brent closed the door behind them, shutting their father out of their lives.

  One Month Later

  The Diablo State Bank

  Brent stared down at the legal documents Edmund had spread on his desk, trying to come to grips with what he'd just learned. Edmund owned the only bank in Diablo, and he had summoned Brent to discuss the Half-Moon's financial situation.

  "You're serious about this?" Brent asked.

  "Absolutely," Edmund answered. "Look, I'm just being honest with you. I'm not trying to hurt you. Your father took out these loans using the HalfMoon as collateral. Now that he's in prison, I may have to call them in."

  Brent was shocked by the news that the ranch was so deeply in debt. He'd had no idea his father had borrowed this heavily to buy the thoroughbred stock he'd wanted so badly. "But you can't-"

  "I can, and I will-if you don't make the payments on time."

  Brent looked up at Edmund, wondering how the man could have changed so much in such a short time. At the funeral he had seemed supportive, but now he was threatening to take the ranch from them. They had already lost their mother and father. The Half-Moon was all they had left, and he had no intention of losing it. It was their home.

  "You know what a difficult time this has been for us," Brent argued.

  "This isn't personal, Brent," Edmund explained smoothly. "This is about money. This is business. I made these loans to your pa in good faith. Now that you've taken over running the ranch, they are your responsibility."

  Brent was chilled by the banker's manner.

  This is business....

  Brent had thought things were difficult before, but discovering his father had gone in debt-almost to the point of losing the ranch just to finance his dream of raising thoroughbred horses-left him stunned. "I'll take care of it."

  As he spoke, Brent looked down at Edmund. The banker stared up at him with the hard, cold eyes of a predator. The coldness was as shocking as if he'd pulled out a gun and aimed it at Brent's gut.

  "I can count on your being on time?" Edmund asked.

  Brent matched his coldness. "You have my word."

  He turned and walked out of the bank without saying anything more. There was nothing left to say. He wasn't sure how he was going to break the news to Quince that they were on the verge of losing everything. Matt, too, if he ever showed up again. They were all going to have to work damned hard to make the Half-Moon a paying proposition, and according to Edmund, they didn't have much time.

  Brent knew he could count on Quince. He couldn't say the same where Matt was concerned.

  Brent had given Edmund his word that the loans would be repaid on time, and he would do it. The Half-Moon meant too much to him. He would not lose the ranch because of his father's debts.

  Somehow, some way, he would save their home.

  Long Horn, Texas, 1880

  "What are you going to do about the money you owe John Hall, Dan?" Crystal Stewart asked her brother as they found a moment to talk in private at the Palace Saloon. Dan was a gambler who liked high-stakes poker games, and he'd just lost a big hand to the other player. "You owe him a lot."

  "I know what I owe him!" Dan seethed, his anger hiding his desperation. "If you'd helped me the way you were supposed to..."

  Crystal was his shill. Dan had trained her to work the saloon like a bar girl and to signal him and let him know what the other men at his table were holding in their hands. Tonight, however, the other gamblers had been very careful not to let anyone get a look at their cards. And Dan had lost badly.

  "I tried, but it almost seemed that they were on to me," Crystal said. "I'm tired of doing this, Dan. I don't like trying to cheat people. It's wrong. We need to find another way to support ourselves."

  "I'll worry about finding another way to support ourselves right after I figure out a way to pay off Hall," he said in a snarl.

  Dan was tired of her talk about quitting. He knew she didn't like helping him, but he didn't care. She was a pretty woman with her blond hair and curvaceous figure. She could distract the other gamblers and help him win. That was all that mattered. They had a good thing going, most of the time, and he planned to keep it that way.

  Dan went on, "I told Hall before he left that I'd meet him later tonight with the cash."

  "But you don't have it!"

  "I'll get it somehow. How much do you have on you? What have you made in tips tonight?"

  "I'm not sure a few dollars."

  "Give me what you've got."

  "We need this money for food and to pay our hotel bill."

  "I'll figure out a way to take care of that laterafter I get Hall off my back."

  Crystal was disgusted as she handed over what cash she had. "I'm going back to the hotel."

  "Fine."

  As Crystal left, Dan returned to the poker table with her money. He hoped his luck would change. It had to. He needed to win back enough to pay his debt.

  If he didn't...

  Dan refused to think about the possibility. Instead, he concentrated on the hand he was dealt.

  Crystal sought out the quiet sanctity of her small room at the hotel. It had been a very long night. She undressed and donned her simple cotton nightgown, more than ready to seek the solace and peace of sleep. At least when she was sleeping, she didn't have to worry about Dan.

  She went to the washstand and for a moment studied her own reflection. The woman looking back at her seemed almost a stranger. Dan always insisted she wear face paint to make herself seem older and more sophisticated than she was. The reflection in the mirror looked worldly and mature and very tired.

  Crystal scrubbed her face clean, wondering how she had come to live like this-working in saloons, helping her older brother cheat at cards-but she knew the answer. Their parents had died when she was only sixteen and Dan twenty; they'd had no relatives or family friends to help them. Dan had always been the wild sort who fancied himself a good gambler, and he'd planned to make his living that way. At first he'd resented having to take care of her, but when he'd realized how pretty she was, he had bought her some fancy dresses and trained her to help him.

  It had been nearly four years now, and Crystal had had enough. She didn't like cheating people.

  She made up her mind that tomorrow she was going to tell Dan he was on his own. The decision filled her with a great sense of relief as she went to bed, and she fell asleep quickly. Soon this life she'd been living would be over.

  Cry
stal wasn't sure what woke her, but she sat up in bed and was startled to see the shadow of someone in her room. It looked like a man, and he was closing the door behind him.

  "Dan?"

  The man didn't answer as he locked the door.

  "What are you doing?" She started to get up, still thinking it was Dan. "Is something wrong?"

  "Oh, no, honey, everything is just fine."

  Crystal went still at the sound of the leering, horrible voice. The man moved close enough for her to recognize him. It was John Hall.

  She grabbed her blanket and clutched it to her breast, but she knew it offered little in the way of real protection. Dan had often encouraged her to keep a derringer with her, but she'd always refused. Now she wished she had a gun to defend herself.

  "What are you doing in here? Get out!"

  "Now, that's no way to greet me," Hall said in a lecherous voice as he slowly crossed the room to ward her. "Your brother sent me to you."

  "What?" Shock radiated through Crystal.

  "I just left Dan. He didn't have my money, but he said you'd work it out for me. I was watching you all night. You are one pretty woman, and a piece of you might just settle up what he owes me-if what your brother says about you is true. He says you're still a virgin." Hall loomed before her, tall and threatening.

  Panic seized Crystal. She was trapped. Dan wanted her to play the whore to settle his gambling debts!

  "There must be a mistake-" Crystal started to protest.

  "No, Crystal, there's no mistake. You're mine for the rest of the night, and Dan said you'd be real good to me."

  Hall reached out and grabbed Crystal by the upper arms, dragging her up to him. She struggled to break free, but she was no match for his strength. He held her easily.

  "I like feisty women." He laughed in her ear. "Come on, honey, fight me some more."

  His words chilled Crystal. He tore the blanket from her grip and pawed at her breasts through her nightgown. She began to tremble as he crushed her tightly against him.

  "Stop it! Let me go or I'll scream! My brother would never send you here!"

  "Go ahead and scream. Ain't no one going to hear you," he breathed in her ear.

  His mouth covered hers, and his tongue plunged into her mouth in a vile kiss.

  "No!" Crystal shrieked, jerking her head away to avoid his nauseating assault.

  Again Hall laughed at her. "Yeah, you're going to be fun to ride."

  He pushed her.

  The side of the bed hit her at the backs of her knees, and Crystal fell backward. Moments before, she'd thought the bed was her safe haven, but now it had become an instrument of this man's terror.

  Hall loomed over her. He stripped off his shirt and started to unbutton his pants.

  "Let's find out if Dan was telling me the truth about you." His voice was filled with lust, and drool slicked his lips as he leaned down toward her. "I think one night with you ought to pay some of his debt to me-if you make it worth my while."

  Hall grabbed the neckline of her gown. In one harsh pull he tore the soft garment down the front, baring her lovely body to his gaze. He started to unfasten his pants. He was ready for her and determined to have his pleasure.

  Crystal had never been so frightened in all her life. She twisted to the side just as he would have fallen upon her. She couldn't believe her own brother had done this to her!

  Reaching out, Crystal groped in the darkness, searching for something-anything-she could use as a weapon. Her hand touched the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed, and she knew what she had to do. Crystal grabbed it just as he snared her other arm.

  Hall had been ready to throw Crystal back down on the bed. He was thinking only of parting her thighs and thrusting deep within her. He was hard with wanting her, and nothing was going to stop him from having her. He jerked her toward him.

  Crystal swung out at him with all her might and brought the lamp crashing down in his face. The glass chimney shattered on contact, and Hall collapsed. He lay half on top of her, a deadweight.

  Frantic and frightened, Crystal fought to escape. She shoved at him with all her might, and he slid, facedown, to the floor. She scrambled off the bed and then cowered, frozen, on the far side of the room, clutching her torn gown together, fearing that at any moment he would get back up and come after her.

  But Hall didn't move. Crystal waited, expecting the worst. Still, he didn't move. Terror of a different kind filled her. Had she killed him? Was he dead?

  Horror ate at her as she crept toward where he lay. She tried to see if Hall was still breathing, but in the darkness she could discern no movement of his chest. Blood covered his face and pooled beneath his head.

  Crystal knew in that moment what she had to do. She had to flee.

  There was no one she could turn to for help. Dan wanted to make her a whore. He had sent this man to her to settle his own debts. Her only brother had betrayed her in the most horrible way.

  Crystal knew she could never trust Dan again.

  She knew, too, that no one in town would believe she'd killed Hall in self-defense. Hall was an influential man in these parts, and she was only a dance-hall girl. If she were going to save herself, she had to run away that very night. She was on her own now, and she was a wanted woman.

  She stripped off the remnants of her ruined nightgown, then quickly dressed. She stuffed what clothing she could fit into one bag. Then she grabbed up her mother's jewelry and the little cash she had kept hidden from Dan in her room. It wasn't much, but she hoped it would get her out of town.

  She had only a few hours until dawn.

  She had to move quickly.

  San Antonio, six months later

  "All right, everybody, quiet down!" ordered Bill Clark, the bartender and owner of the Six Gun Saloon. "It's time for Miss Opal to perform!"

  A rousing cheer went up.

  The men had been waiting all evening for just this moment. They all turned and eagerly faced the stage at the back of the room. They were more than ready to see the blond beauty whose reputation had spread far and wide in the few months she'd been working at the Six Gun. Even the saloon girls turned their attention to the stage.

  Everyone loved Miss Opal.

  The curtain parted. An expectant hush fell over the crowd. And then Miss Opal made her entrance.

  She was the epitome of the seductress as she moved gracefully to center stage. She wore a red satin gown that, though demurely cut, clung enticingly to her perfect figure. The men shouted their approval as she stopped before them.

  "Good evening, gentlemen," Crystal greeted them in a throaty voice, smiling warmly in welcome. She had taken to using the name Opal since she'd come to San Antonio some months before. No one knew her real name, and she intended to keep it that way.

  "Evenin', Miss Opal!" they shouted back.

  The piano player began the first melody, and she started to sing. Her voice rang out pure and sweet.

  These men were a rough-and-tumble bunch, but they knew true talent when they heard it. Miss Opal had the voice of an angel, and they were enchanted. When she finished her first selection, they roared their approval and clamored for more. She obliged them.

  "Hey, Bill! This new singer of yours is one pretty woman, and she's as good as everyone's been saying. Where'd you find her?" Joe Meyers asked as he shoved his empty glass toward the bartender for a refill. He had been drinking heavily all evening, and he didn't intend to stop.

  "Opal found me," Bill answered as he poured Joe another drink. "She came in here about two months ago looking for a job. When I heard her sing, I hired her on the spot. It was one of the smartest things I ever did. Business has been booming."

  "I can see why. What's she do besides sing?" Joe asked hopefully. A lecherous gleam lit his eyes as he imagined himself spending the rest of the evening with her, upstairs in one of the private rooms. He'd make her warble real good.

  "Nothing." The bartender's answer was firm.

  "Nothing?"
Joe repeated, surprised. In his experience, the women who worked in saloons were willing to do just about anything to make money.

  "That's right. Opal is a lady."

  Irritated that he would have no chance to seek his pleasure with the beautiful singer, Joe turned his attention back to the stage to listen to the rest of her performance.

  Crystal had learned long ago how to keep an audience entertained. She flirted openly with her admirers. She wanted each man to believe she was singing) ust for him.

  Crystal didn't know what made her glance toward the front of the saloon, but as she did a tall, darkhaired stranger appeared through the swinging doors. She was sure she had never seen the man before, for she certainly would have remembered him. He was ruggedly handsome, and he had a compelling aura of power and command about him. There was also an element of danger-in the way he wore his gun low on his hip and the way he moved. Attractive though he was, Crystal made it a rule never to get involved with any of her cus tomers. With that rule in mind, she started to force her attention away from him.

  And then he looked her way.

  Their gazes met across the crowded room, and a surge of sensual awareness shot through Crystal unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Her reaction to him took her completely by surprise. Wanting to maintain her composure, she quickly looked away and continued to sing to her adoring fans. She couldn't afford to be distracted.

  Brent Hunter had come to the Six Gun Saloon because he needed a drink, and that was saying something for him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had one. He generally had no use for liquor, and, in fact, did not allow it at the Half-Moon. He had seen firsthand the tragedy drunkenness could cause, and he wanted no part of it.

  But tonight was different.

  After what he'd dealt with today, Brent needed not only a drink, but some peace and quiet, too. As he'd neared the saloon, he'd heard the loud cheering going on inside and realized he wasn't going to find much peace there. He'd almost decided to go on to another bar when he'd heard the woman singing inside.

  Drawn into the saloon by her siren's song, Brent wasn't quite sure what to expect. Certainly he hadn't expected the entertainer to be anything like the vision gracing the stage at the back of the room. The woman was beautiful. She had the voice of an angel, and she looked like one, too.