Her Bodyguard (13 page)

They eat rats and rabbits. Whole.

I’m too big to digest
.

The snake’s tail began to vibrate, the rattle buzzed.
Oh, dear Lord
. Mari wanted to scramble back, to rise and run away. She wanted to scream. Instead, she lay quiet and still but for the pounding of her pulse. She’d wait him out. Maybe he’d get tired of holding his head up like that. Maybe he’d just slither away. Maybe—

The train whistle blew just as the crack of a gunshot sounded. Before Mari’s eyes, the snake’s head separated from its body, stinging blood and gore. While the head was still in the air, Luke shouted. “Get away. It can still bite.”

The rattlesnake’s head landed with its mouth open, its fangs extended, mere inches from her face.

Mari’s world went black.

LUKE WAS in a world-class temper.

Here he was afoot in the middle of nowhere, an unconscious woman slung over his shoulder, trying to run down a wagon filled with pigs so he wouldn’t have to walk ten miles or farther to the nearest town. Meanwhile, his mortal enemy rode safely out of Luke’s clutches in the relative comfort of a Texas & Pacific passenger railcar.

All in all, it had been one blue-ribbon lousy day.

And it wasn’t over yet.

The weight on his shoulder shifted as Mari awakened from her faint. “What..?” she said, starting to struggle. “Put me down. Oh, wait. That snake. Maybe you should carry me back to the train. Could we shift position, though?”

Giving in to his temper, Luke gave her butt a swat. “Be still,” he said over her gasp of offense. “The train left without us.”

“It left?” she said with a squeak.

“We gotta catch that wagon.”

“Wagon? What wagon?”

She wiggled and squirmed like a sand bass on a hook, forcing him to slow. Deciding it’d be faster to put her down, Luke set her on her feet then pointed toward a cloud of dust a couple hundred yards away. “That wagon. The one we’ve got to run and catch up with if we don’t want to walk to Trickling Springs.”

Mari looked toward the empty train track. “Walk. We can’t walk. I’m not walking.” Shuddering, she added, “That was a rattlesnake.”

“I noticed.”

“The robbers.” Wide-eyed, she glanced up at Luke. “What about the train robbers? Where did they go?”

Luke scowled and started walking in long, angry strides after the wagon. “They didn’t get off.”

She hurried after him. “They robbed a train, then stayed on it?”

“They didn’t rob the train,” Luke responded, breaking into a slow run.

“What?”

Damn, this was humiliating. Luke seldom felt like a fool, and he didn’t wear the sensation well. “Better get a move on. I figure it’s at least ten miles to town.”

He gave it half a minute then checked over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but appreciate the delicious amount of leg she displayed as she hefted her skirts knee-high and started after him. Though he was tempted to pick up his speed and maintain a distance that made discussion impossible, he didn’t have the heart to make this any more difficult for her than it already was. He couldn’t forget the look on her face as she stared down that diamondback. The girl had grit. He respected that.

“Luke Garrett! What do you mean they didn’t rob the train?” she called out.

But she also had a damned sharp tongue.
Well, hell
. Luke halted, whirled around and spit his words like bullets. “The train stopped because the pig wagon was stuck on the tracks. The wagon moved. The train left.” He shrugged.

Mari stopping running. She braced her hands on her hips. “So you were wrong? We went through all this for nothing? I risked my life for nothing?”

“You didn’t risk your life,” he said, resuming his long-legged lope.

She put on a burst of speed and came around in front of him. “No? I jumped from a moving train. I was a hairbreadth away from being bitten by a viper. All because you made a mistake and told me I was in danger from a bunch of train robbers! What kind of an outlaw are you that you can’t tell when a train is being robbed?”

Her sapphire eyes flashed, and her cheeks flushed rosy. Luke was glad to see the color back in her complexion. He didn’t feel near as guilty now. So he gave her a wink, then said, “Hey, you got a damn fine kiss out of it.”

She gasped, glared, then whirled around and increased her pace. Luke eyed her pumping legs, matched her stride, and his mood went almost mellow.

When they drew within hailing distance of the wagon, he increased his speed and ran around her. “Howdy, sir,” Luke called. When the driver, a weathered man of around sixty, turned to look, Luke jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward Mari and continued, “My wife and I are in a speck of trouble. Would you be of some help to us?”

“Whoa there,” the driver called as he reined in his horses. In the back of the wagon, a pair of hogs snorted and snuffled. “Where did you come from, stranger?”

Mari caught up with Luke as he began to spin his yarn. “I’m afraid we stepped off the train when it stopped. The little lady here was feeling a bit green around the gills from all the swaying.” He put his arm around Mari’s waist, gave her a squeeze and a smile, ignoring the way she stiffened at his touch. “Caught us by surprise when the train took off rolling again. My little darling was busy puking her guts up, so we couldn’t run to catch it. She’s carryin’, you see.”

“Congratulations,” the driver said.

“Thank you. We’re hoping for a boy. We’re the Beaudines. I’m Virgil and this here is Ethel. We’re hoping you’d be so kind as to give us a ride into Trickling Springs.”

The fellow tipped back his hat. “That’s a problem, young man. I’m late gettin’ where I’m goin’ ‘cause of my wagon gettin’ hung up on the railroad tracks. I’ve gotta get home by sundown ‘cause today’s my wife’s birthday, and these hogs are her gift. Now, y’all are welcome to ride along with me. I’m Dennis Hill. My wife and I have a cotton farm a short piece from here. Y’all can stay the night at the farm, and I’ll carry you into town tomorrow.”

“But the train,” Mari said, casting Luke an anxious look. “It’s stopping for dinner. We could catch up with it. We must catch up with it. My bags are on that train!”

Luke frowned and scratched the back of his head. “Now, Ethel, you do have a point. Sir, I’d be happy to pay you a good wage for the ride tonight. You could buy the missus some little purdy to go along with her hogs. And allow me to mention what fine hogs they are, too.”

Now it was the farmer’s turn to frown. He pursed his lips, scratched his full beard, then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Can’t rightly do that. I forgot her birthday entirely last year, and she’ll be hotter than a pot of boiling collards if I don’t get my hogs home tonight. Y’all come on and climb up into the wagon. The wife will be pleased to have company. We’ll get you into town in plenty of time to catch tomorrow’s train.”

Mari opened her mouth as though to protest, then obviously thought better of it She flashed Hill a grateful smile, then stepped up into the wagon and settled broadly into the seat “Oh, my. There’s not much room. It looks like you’ll have to ride in back with the rest of the pigs, Virgil.”

Good try, sugar
.

“That’s all right.” He stepped up into the wagon, scooped her up, then sat and settled her into his lap. “I don’t mind you sitting on me, even if you have put on some weight with the young’un and all.”

She sat stiff as a new rawhide rope, and her elbow jabbed him hard in the breadbasket. Damn, but he liked her starch, not to mention that yellow-rose scent that clung to her skin despite her recent brush with dirt, dust and death. “Besides, you smell a lot better than the hogs.”

She retaliated by “accidentally” kicking his shin. Grinning, Luke relaxed against the backboard and prepared to enjoy the ride.

HILLSIDE FARM was a pretty place snuggled up against the banks of the Brazos River. Post oak and cedar dotted the gently rolling hills, and in the fields, fluffy white cotton dotted the ground like snowballs.

The farmhouse had been around awhile. Built in the traditional dogtrot style, the original house consisted of two log rooms with a central connecting passageway, a porch at either side, and a chimney at both ends. “What a pretty place,” Mari told the farmer.

“It’s a hodgepodge,” he replied, although his voice brimmed with pride. “My father built the original cabin, and we’ve added on over the years. My Penny is right proud of her new kitchen and dining room. If you like it, Mrs. Beaudine, it’d be a kindness for you to mention it to her.”

Because he wanted to keep his wife’s gift a secret until the appropriate time, he pulled the wagon into the barn and they approached the house on foot. Glancing through a window, Mari spied Penny Hill at the stove in her kitchen with a wooden spoon in hand stirring, judging by the smell, a pot of beans. At first glance, Mari thought she appeared to be younger than her husband by at least ten years.

Dennis Hill waved them onto the porch, then opened the door and asked, “How’s the birthday girl?”

“You remembered!” Her smile bloomed and delight filled her eyes as she turned around. Then, seeing strangers at the doorway of her home, she paused. Delight shifted to curiosity. “Why, hello.”

“Come on in, folks,” Dennis said, waving them inside. “Penny, this here’s Mr. and Mrs. Beaudine. They had a travel mishap on account of the missus is in the family way. They’re gonna stay with us tonight, then I’m gonna carry them to town tomorrow in time to catch the southbound train.”

Luke took off his hat and ushered Mari inside. “We’re sorry to impose on your celebration, ma’am.”

“Oh, company is never an imposition. In fact, this is a delightful surprise. Welcome to our home.”

The farmer’s wife offered Mari the opportunity to freshen up, and upon hearing the details according to Luke the Liar about their “travel mishap,” offered “Ethel” a clean dress to wear.

“Please, call me Mari,” she said, gratefully accepting the change of clothes. “It’s the name I ordinarily go by. Virgil is the only one who uses the other.”

The dress fit snug in the bust, loose in the waist, and showed an impolite amount of ankle, but Mari was pleased to have it. She joined Penny in the kitchen and assisted with supper preparations. Soon the two women chatted away like old friends. She learned that the couple had two sons, one who lived and worked in Dallas and the other who helped his father on the farm, but lived with his wife and young daughter in a house on another section of land they owned a short distance away. “They’d intended to come for supper tonight, but the baby came down sick. My son rode over this afternoon and brought me my gift. Can I show you?”

It was a photograph of her son’s family, and the two women spent some time oohing and aahing over the Hills’ granddaughter. Mari did her best to shift the conversation away from children when Penny asked a question or two about her pregnancy. While she did have some experience at shading the truth—that McBride Menace influence, she was afraid—she didn’t feel right about misleading people as nice as Dennis and Penny Hill.

Luke, however, seemed to revel in it. The cad.

Over supper, he spun a yarn about the reason for their trip that had nothing to do with the truth. It did, however, manage to charm their hosts completely. Who wouldn’t be impressed by a man who spoke so passionately about his desire to preserve Texas history by recovering historical documents and establishing a museum to exhibit artifacts from the days of the Republic? Obviously, Luke had as much a talent for acting as did his brother.

He revealed yet another facet of his talents after Dennis presented his wife with her gift when supper was over. Penny’s delight in the hogs was infectious and Mari found herself wishing she had a gift of her own to give. Apparently, Luke felt the same way. Reaching for Mari’s hand, he gave it a warning squeeze and said, “It’s a poor guest who attends a birthday party without a gift. Since we can’t exactly run down to the general store to purchase you tea towels, would you accept a bit of entertainment from my wife and me as our birthday contribution?”

While Mari looked at Luke in shock, the farmer piped up. “You wantin’ to sing? I have tender ears. Can’t abide poor singin’.”

“No. No singing.” Luke stood, pulled Mari to her feet, then continued in a theatrical tone. “Mr. and Mrs. Hill, allow me to present Beaudine the Magnificent and his lovely assistant, Ethel!”

He made a flourish, then tugged a handkerchief and a coin from his pocket. For the next ten minutes, he performed one parlor trick after another with only those two items. He made the coin disappear and reappear in various places of the room and on his “assistant’s” body. He tied the kerchief in knots, made the knots disappear, made the kerchief disappear…and reappear from the dip in Mari’s neckline.

Mari’s contribution to the act became one of reacting to his tricks. Every time she slapped his hand away for brushing her body inappropriately, each time she reacted with shock or surprise to his antics, the Hills’ amusement increased. Soon Mari found herself playing to her audience, and when Luke ended the act by pulling a yellow rosebud from her bodice, then bending her back over his arm for a boisterous kiss, she participated enthusiastically.

She was still floating on a performer’s high spirits a short time later when she found herself alone in a room with Luke. Alone in a bedroom. Their bedroom. The one with the bed. Only one bed.

Oh, my.

Luke unbuckled his gun belt and draped it over the back of the one other piece of furniture in the room, a wooden ladder-back chair. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and began to pull off his boots. “That was fun,” he observed. “I haven’t performed my magic act in ages.”

Mari stood stiff as a fence post in the middle of the room.

One boot fell to the wooden floor with a thud. Mari startled, then nervously cleared her throat “Do…um…did you…um…where did you learn those tricks?”

The second boot fell to the floor. “My stepfather taught me when I was a boy. Helped me learn to be good with my hands.”

Oh, my goodness
.

“They’re nice people, the Hills. Did you notice that painting above their mantel? The cowboys around the campfire? The artist is Charles M. Russell. Dennis said he bought it out of a Fort Worth bar. Russell is starting to earn a real name in the art world. My bet is that painting will be worth a pretty penny someday.”