The Last Renegade (32 page)

Kellen tugged and tucked his drawers, trousers, and shirt before he sat up to button his vest. He ran his hand through his hair, making furrows where she had ruffled it. Raine was still lying down, her eyes closed, the corners of her mouth turned up a mere fraction of a degree.

“You look indecently pleased with yourself.”

“Not so virtuous, am I?” When Raine didn’t hear Kellen chuckle, she opened her eyes. “You’re working up to saying something I don’t want to hear. I can tell.”

“I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“All right.”

Raine closed her eyes again, but the smile that was hardly there disappeared entirely. “I know you’ll be moving on,” she said when the silence became unbearable. “You’ll realize that I don’t need you, and you’ll go. That’s the promise you made to me, and I take you for a man of your word. If you weren’t more decent than you like to let on, you wouldn’t be thinking about whether or not I’m getting all twisted up with feelings for you. You’d just be gone one day. That’s what you usually do, isn’t it?”

“Do you want me to talk now?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Yes. It’s what I usually do. I haven’t had to answer to anyone for a long time.”

“You don’t have to answer to me.” She stole a glance at him. “I don’t want the responsibility.”

“A child might change your mind.”

Raine blew out a frustrated breath as she sat up. “You said it.”

“That’s what you didn’t want to hear?”

She started to rise, but Kellen caught her wrist and pulled her back down. “What?”

“I don’t have any bastards, Raine.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.”

“I
don’t
have any bastards,” he repeated. “It’s not because I’m decent; it’s because I’m careful. Or I was. Until now.”

“I won’t expect anything from you.”

“Christ, Raine, you don’t understand at all. I expect something from myself.”

Raine jerked her wrist out of his hand. “I am not trying to make this hard for you. I am trying to make it easy.”

“Stop trying. I’m not interested in what you think I want to hear. I’m interested in what you think.” He began collecting the scattered copies of
Nat Church and the Chinese Box
and returning them to the crate. Raine handed him one that was under her skirt. He took it, grumbled a thank-you, and tossed it with the others.

Raine got to her feet. This time Kellen did not stop her. She carefully stepped over the novels and around him and went to the bathing room, where she shut the door. When she came out, he was gone.

Because of Scott Pennway’s death, the saloon was crowded, but the crowd was subdued. Raine had all three of her girls working the floor while she tended bar. Walt came and went, restocking the liquor, sweeping up outside, tapping a new keg. He kept himself busy with small tasks because it was just what
he did. It seemed to Raine that it was especially important tonight that each one of them do just what they always did. Routine was a comfort. Veering outside of it was not.

There was talk at the bar about Scott’s death, some discussion about whether Annie and the children would stay in Bitter Springs or go to Denver, where she had family. Raine did not contribute to the conversation. She caught Ted Rush telling Jessop Davis that he’d gone head over bucket down his own steps one night on the way to the necessary. When he got to the part of how it could have been him sprawled in the backyard with his neck broke, Raine moved as far away as she could. It wasn’t long before she observed Jessop doing the same.

What was missing from all the exchanges she heard or overheard was speculation that what happened to Scott Pennway wasn’t an accident. Ever since she had been made aware that the jury from Ellen’s trial came together in her saloon, Raine had taken to making a mental note of their presence. With the exception of Matthew Sharp, who stayed away for religious reasons, everyone else was part of the assembly. It made the absence of John Hood, Hank Thompson, and now Scott Pennway more pronounced. She imagined that the others had taken notice of it as well. Perhaps none of them saw the point of debating accident versus murder when their numbers were dwindling and a killer might be buying them their next drink.

Someone asked Sue to play, and Raine nodded her approval. She hoped the girl chose something counter to the mood of the room. These men craved a lively tune, not a dirge. So did she. Raine held her breath, waiting to hear what Sue would play, and when the first nimble notes of an old English melody were struck, she finally smiled.

“Good to see,” Walt said as he approached carrying a case of ginger beer. He put the case under the bar and left without explaining himself.

It wasn’t until he was gone that Raine realized he had been commenting on her smile. She supposed it was the first genuine smile she had indulged in all evening.

With the introduction of music, the talk was livelier, the laughter more vigorous, and the occasional argument showed
real spirit. The noise had just reached the barely tolerable level when Eli and Clay Burdick walked into the Pennyroyal.

It was not that anyone ceased what he was doing. Charlie Patterson kept on singing, though his voice veered off-key and there was noticeably less gusto when he got to the refrain. Sue played, but her fingers were not as deft as they had been a few measures earlier. Ted Rush continued telling his story to Richard Allen, but no longer so loud that it could be heard by men on the other side of him. The Davis brothers kept on arguing but used more gestures and finger-pointing than words. Even Mr. Petit and Mr. Reasoner, who had little contact with the Burdicks, took their cue from everyone else and changed the tenor of their laughter to something less ribald and more restrained. The men who had gathered to hear their stories did the same. Mr. Jones held court at one table where there was considerable interest in water rights and irrigation, but he let everyone else do the talking when Eli and Clay passed by.

Raine watched Kellen to see what he would do. There had been the occasional companion at his table. Dr. Kent had wandered in and sat with him for a time. They mostly sat in silence, exchanging only a few words, and when the doctor finished his drink, he left. Ted Rush occupied a seat at Kellen’s side long enough to relate his own close encounter with the grim reaper on account of a fall. As soon as he left, Kellen caught the attention of Cecilia and asked for a whiskey.

Now he was alone, and Raine believed it was purposeful. She saw him raise his hand and wave the Burdicks over. The man did not know how to wait for trouble. He invited it.

Eli slid into the chair beside Kellen. He shooed Renee and Cecilia as the girls closed in on him.

“Hey,” said Clay, watching the girls go. “I want a drink.”

“Lorrainey will bring it,” Eli told him. “Lorrainey! Two whiskeys.” He looked at Kellen’s empty glass. “You want another?”

“I could use one.”

Eli added another finger to the two he had up. “Three whiskeys. Bring them yourself.”

“Why do you do that?” Kellen asked.

“Do what?”

He pointed to Raine. “Pull her away from the bar to serve you when there are girls who could do it just as well.”

Eli grinned. “I like to watch her walk. You ever notice how she walks?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

Clay’s lip curled. “Like the ground ain’t good enough for her feet.”

“He means she kinda floats,” Eli said.

“That’s what you say. I say the Widder Berry walks like she thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

“Maybe she is,” Kellen said mildly.

Clay’s expression turned dark, but Eli laughed. “Damn, but you could be right about that.” He jerked his thumb at Clay. “My brother’s not real partial to Lorrainey after the trouble she caused us, but I never figured there was sense in holdin’ on to a grudge like it was a bronco you were trying to bust.”

Clay shoved his chair back and stood. He grabbed one of the whiskey glasses from Raine’s hand before she could set them down. “I’m goin’ to talk to the photographer fellow that’s been nosin’ around the spread and takin’ his fool pictures.” He jabbed a finger in Mr. Petit’s direction. “That’s him, ain’t it, Lorraine?”

“He’s a photographer, yes. I don’t know whether or not he’s been on your property.”

“Now why don’t I believe you?” With that parting shot, he turned his back on all of them.

Eli watched him go. “Miserable cuss. Always has been.” He smiled at Raine, but it was more leering grin than greeting. “Doesn’t share my disposition or my affections.”

“Here’s your drink.” She set it down hard in front of him. “And here’s yours.” She was only a little less deliberate with Kellen’s glass than she had been with Eli’s. “Let me know if you want the bottle.” She gave them her back the same as Clay.

“She’s not so sweet on you tonight,” Eli told Kellen.

“We’re arguing.”

Eli’s blue eyes narrowed a fraction. His jaw swung a little to the side. “Is that so?”

“Sure is.”

“Never heard that the Widder Berry argued with her guests. Reputation is that she’s accommodatin’.”

“She argues with me, and she’s accommodating.”

“What do you mean by that? Exactly.”

“I’ll tell you, but I’d rather see both your hands on the table before I do.”

Eli already had one hand wrapped around his whiskey glass. Frowning, he brought up the other slowly. “You got them where you want them.”

“We’re arguing about you, actually. I want to tell you. She doesn’t. She thinks you’ll start trouble. I think she’s never understood that you’re in love with her and that because you are, and probably have been since you first watched her walking toward you, what you really want is to see her happy. I know a little about the trouble you say she’s caused you, and I—”

Eli interrupted him, “Does she say different?”

“No. Not at all. She knows what she’s done. She also knows that because of it, she can never accept a proposal from you. Raine told me that she was the cause of your father being separated from one of his sons, and she couldn’t do that again. She believes your father would not take her in. It’s her opinion that he would send you away.”

“She told you all that?”

“In her letters,” Kellen said, nodding. “She explained all of it in her letters. It’s probably the reason she went looking for someone like me, because she couldn’t have someone like you.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he said under his breath. He glanced over at the bar. “She’s watching us.”

Kellen kept his eyes on Eli, especially on Eli’s hands. “Does she look worried?”

“Not so much. I’d say she’s got her dander up.”

“You know her better than I do. You’re probably right.”

Eli’s attention swiveled back to Kellen. “So when you say she went looking for someone like you…”

“Mail order,” said Kellen. “Courting by correspondence.”

“And how has that turned out?”

Kellen watched Eli’s fingers loosen around his glass. They
slid to the edge of the table and began to drop below it. “This is where I really need to be able to see your hands, Eli.”

“You think I’m going to draw on you?”

“I’m thinking that if I were sitting where you are, I might be tempted. Do you know what a dog in a manger is?”

“Sure. I know Aesop. I’m not cattle smart and book stupid. The dog grudges the ox what he can’t enjoy for himself. I guess you figure me for the dog.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t like it, Coltrane, you bein’ with her. I don’t like it at all. But she’s right about Uriah, and I don’t suppose she’d believe me if I said I’ve contemplated leavin’ now and again.”

“She might believe you,” said Kellen. “But she couldn’t accept being the reason for it.”

“I probably should have told her about that.” He raised his glass for another whiskey. “You haven’t touched yours.”

“Still waiting to learn where you stand.”

“Hands are on the table, aren’t they? You goin’ to marry her?”

“Already did.”

Eli looked Kellen over. He whistled softly. “So it really was mail order, just like you were a sewing machine or a thresher from Montgomery Ward.”

Nodding faintly, Kellen offered a slim, vaguely embarrassed smile. It drew Eli’s focus to his mouth. Kellen held steady and pretended not to notice. “She’s coming with the bottle.”

Still looking at Kellen’s mouth, Eli said, “You don’t mind if I watch her walk this way? It’s kind of a habit.”

Kellen turned his hand over in a gesture that granted permission. “It’s worth admiring, isn’t it?”

Eli stared at Kellen’s profile as he turned his head. “It sure is.”

Clay Burdick was eventually able to corner his man when everyone else sitting nearby scattered. He crooked a finger at Renee, asked for a beer for himself and one for his companion.

“I prefer whiskey,” the man said when Renee sashayed away.

“But I’m buying beer.” Clay directed the man’s notice across the saloon to where Eli was sitting with Kellen. “Can’t figure him out.”

“Your brother? Or Coltrane?”

“Either of them, I guess. They don’t seem a likely pair. Uriah’s going to let that Coltrane fellow write a story about the ranch. He decided to invite him to come out, if you can believe that. I suppose that’s what Eli’s talking to him about. They have about as much in common as a snake and a stick. You might mistake one for the other, but only one of them will kill you.”

“Your brother? Or Coltrane?”

“See? Now you’re just pissin’ down my leg. Uriah’s not real pleased with you, but I guess you know that.”

“You know about Pennway?”

“Eli and I heard about it outside. Walt told us.”

“Walt? Oh, the man Mrs. Berry keeps around for odd jobs. The slow-wit.”

“That’s the one. Eli and I figured since it was Scott Pennway, and Walt was saying how it was an accident, it probably all comes around to you. Is that right?”

“You know my work. Tell Uriah he owes me.”

“My pa is thinking how it’s you that owes him.” Clay waited until Renee put their glasses down and swept away the others. When she was gone, he said, “That business with the girl wasn’t part of the contract.”