Under a Texas Star (27 page)

Pequeño grinned, showing off a mouthful of unusually white teeth. "Not what you expect, huh?"

His hearty laugh echoed in the room as Marly shook his hand.

"So, amigo," he said, turning to Jase, "you said something about a beer, no?"

"Make that two. Three, if you'd care to join us."

Pequeño passed the order along to one of his bartenders. With an arm around each of their shoulders, he ushered them to a table in the back corner. Marly noted that both Pequeño and Jase sat with their backs to the wall and she was encouraged to do the same.

Taking a seat beside Jase, she surveyed the saloon while the men caught up on each other's lives. Although the saloon wasn't crowded, the tables were at least partly occupied and there were half a dozen cowboys at the bar. A few more stood around the piano where a toothless man mangled a tune. Smoke from tobacco and back draft from the fireplace drifted up in clouds, hanging around the chandelier before being vented through the roof.

"Drink," Jase said, sliding a glass of beer in front of her.

Pequeño was drinking whiskey. He raised his shot in salute. "To old friends and new."

Jase raised his glass."Saludo!"

"Cheers!" she added.

Soon after the drinks came, supper was served. Marly found that beer was slightly more palatable when it washed down barbequed steaks, chili and refried beans. As she'd suspected, it went down well at the end of the day, seeming to wash away the dust of the trail.

When Pequeño offered her another glass, she shook her head. "One is enough for me. I'm beat."

"You should go to bed," Jase said.

She didn't argue and was too tired to be offended by his easy dismissal. Leaving the old friends to their conversation, she headed for the shed.

As sleepy as she was, she had a hard time settling. Noises from the alley kept her awake. Each time she heard something she'd reach for her revolver, listen for a bit and peer into the darkness.

"Haven't seen you ride with a partner for a long time, have I?"

Jase shook his head. "Nope."

"Noticed the Ranger badge too. Little young, no?"

"Maybe, but Marly came by it honestly."

"Are you going to tell me the story?"

"Part of it. Part of it is still to be played out."

He gave Pequeño the short version of Strothers' murder investigation and Marly's heroics. He might have dwelt a little longer on Marly's heroics than he needed to, but he was proud of her.

"So, you got to keep this partner, yah?"

"Gonna try."

"And then you can tell Pequeño the full story, yah?"

The two men locked gazes for a minute, no more.

When the big man smiled, Jase relented. "Someday. I promise."

A half hour later, he left Pequeño to his customers and returned to the shed. Marly was asleep, rousing just enough to be sure it was him. She grunted something that might have been "good night."

Jase tucked the blanket up over her shoulders and noticed her Remington revolver tucked under the shirt she was using as a pillow. Ever vigilant, Marly presented a tough exterior. Except when she was sleeping.

He stroked her cheek. "Good night, my sweet brat."

After breakfast, Jase arranged for baths at one of the more reasonably priced hotels. He took the privilege of having the first bath, giving Marly the chore of taking their trail clothes to the Chinese laundry. Since he trusted her to go out on her own, she deduced that El Paso wasn't as dangerous as she thought
―at least not by daylight.

El Paso was nothing like anywhere Marly had been before. It might as well have been a foreign country. There were at least as many people speaking Spanish as English and a fair number speaking other languages like German, French
and Chinese. The railway was coming and the city was already showing signs of things to come.

The El Hombre was just off the Camino Real. It had linked Santa Fe and Mexico City since the first Spanish colonists settled in the area. Just down the street and across the river lay Mexico. Marly put a visit to the border on her to-do list, along with finding the post office, dealing with Charlie and settling her account with Jase.

First, she had to find the laundry.

Jase had every intention of being in and out the bath before Marly returned. The hot water was too seductive. He fell asleep, briefly registered when she returned, but didn't really wake until he felt her washing his shoulders.

"Sit up and I'll do your back."

Too weary to argue, he complied.

Marly used the soapy cloth to scrub him clean. As she rinsed, her hands smoothed his muscles, her fingers easing the tension.

Jase enjoyed the luxury of the massage until his conscience nagged him. The masquerade would be coming to an end soon. Things were going to be complicated enough without him crossing the line.

He took the cloth from her. "The bath is yours now."

While Marly bathed, he checked in on the town marshal.

Frank Crowley was a good old southern boy, gracious but not polished. He greeted Jase with a beaming smile and a pat on the back. It seemed the news of Strothers' murder and Baker's death had already reached town.

"Charlie Meese?" Crowley said, scratching his chin. "Never heard of him. But I'll make some discreet inquiries."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Check back later."

"Will do."

Jase moved on to the telegraph and post office. There, he discovered that a slick-looking fellow had been asking about packet addressed to one Marly Landers. The packet was still there, unclaimed.

By the time he returned to the hotel, it was close on noon and Marly was waiting for him in the dining room.

After two slices of pie, she put her fork down. "I'm going to start looking for Charlie."

"No point puttin' it off, I guess, but you might do better if you pocket your Ranger's star."

"You coming?"

"I have some business of my own."

After she left, he followed at a discreet distance.

Marly started at one of the livery stables, asking if there was any work. There wasn't. She hung around for a bit, chatting with the stable hands. Since Jase could hardly eavesdrop without drawing her attention, he decided to check in on the marshal.

"Happens you're in luck," Crowley announced, pouring Jase a cup of coffee and offering him a chair. "He's staying at the Alhambra. Not calling himself Meese, mind you. He's going by the name of Chuck Masters. One of my deputies remembered him. Seems he lost a week's pay to our friend, Meese."

"How'd your deputy lose money?"

"Poker."

"Fair game?"

Crowley shrugged. "Or damned slick. If I knew for sure he was cheating, you'd have found him in one of my cells."

Jase stayed and they swapped stories.

Marshal Crowley, a married man, had recently added another member to the family and was proud to share the news. She was the first girl after three boys and the prettiest baby west of the Mississippi, according to her father.

"I'd be honored if you and your deputy would come to dinner tomorrow evening," the man said.

"That's might kind of you. Thank you."

He had a feeling, if he stayed around long enough, Crowley would be fixing him up with a date for the Saturday night dance.

He met Marly at the El Hombre, where she was sipping sarsaparilla and reading.

"Charlie is in El Paso," she told him as soon as he sat down. "He's at the Alhambra. Looks like he's up to his old tricks." She told him about the poker games. "There's some question as to the honesty of his games. And he pays a stable boy two bits a night to keep a horse ready for him. Just in case."

"That's a lot of money for a little insurance. He's more likely to get shot at the table if he gets caught cheatin'. Makes you wonder if he knows someone's after him."

Marly gritted her teeth. "I doubt he'd care."

"He might not know it's you. Anyway, I checked at the post office. The package addressed to you is waitin'. They've been tellin' Meese it hasn't arrived yet."

"I imagine if I pick it up, he'll find me."

"You gonna confront him like that?"

"Like what?" She looked down at her clothes. "Oh."

Pequeño interrupted with two heaping bowls of chili con carne and a plate of tortillas. "Pedro's secret recipe."

Pedro, an older man with a permanent grin, followed with a bowl of salsa and a dish of chili peppers, and Pequeño returned with a pitcher of beer to top up their glasses. "Buena appetito!"

"Hospitable, isn't he?" Marly said when the two men left.

"I told you, he's an old friend."

"Another fellow Ranger?"

"Not exactly. When I first met him, Pequeño was on the other side of the law. By the way, I wouldn't touch those peppers if I was you."

Jase let Marly take the edge off her appetite.

"So…what are you gonna do about Meese," he asked finally.

"I don't know. I suppose I had better buy a skirt or something. I can just imagine what kind of greeting I'd get from Charlie Meese if I showed up like this." She leaned back in the chair. "I guess the next step after that is to get the package and set things in motion."

"I'll buy you some clothes. I can say it's for a present. No one will question me. Then there's the problem of makin' the transition. I think for that we better find you another place to stay."

Marly heaved a sigh. "It all seems so awkward. I think it would have been better if Charlie had left town. Better for him anyway."

Jase's eyebrow lifted.

She shook her head. "I'm not stupid."

Chapter 20

Marly had her suspicions from the start. She knew Jase was after someone, that he was hunting that person down. He'd never told her who that someone was and it had never come up in conversation. And he'd been happy to traipse after Charlie, on her word that the man was a criminal.

That could only mean one thing.

"You're after Charlie too," she said. "Aren't you?"

"I'm after the man who calls himself Charlie Meese, Chuck Masters, Charleston Mathers and probably a bunch of other C. M. names. I could arrest him and will eventually."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. Guess I was worried you'd think I'd bring him in before you could work out your business with Meese. I figured you might want the first go at him."

"You're right about that."

Jase had a late night drifting from saloon to saloon and casually inquiring after Charleston Mathers. His description was a little vague. He acted as though he was happy to take his time, that he was looking for a friend. His drawl got thicker as the evening wore on. He gave the impression that he was drinking a great deal more than he had and that he wasn't too smart.

Marly was gone when he woke up the next morning. He wasn't surprised. Maybe she'd decided to go to church. More likely, she was trying to pick up some work and more information.

At midday, he headed for the El Hombre.

"Seen my deputy?" he asked.

"The chico ordered a packed lunch," Pequeño told him.

"Strachan," a voice called out behind him.

Marshal Crowley joined him at the bar.

"Thought I'd find you here," the man said. To Pequeño, he said, "I'll have what he's having. With a shot of brandy."

Pequeño set a mug of laced coffee in front of the marshal and discreetly left them to their conversation.

Over the next hour, Jase answered Crowley's questions and asked a few of his own. He decided it was time to trust his old acquaintance, so he told him about his protégée's true gender, giving a condensed version of their adventures and leaving out her name and the reason she was looking for Meese. He painted a picture of an orphan in distress and threw himself on the mercy of the family man.

Crowley's face reddened with rage as he listened.

At suppertime, Marly strolled into the El Hombre. Smudged with dirt and soaked with sweat, it was easy to deduce how she had spent her day.

Jase waved over Crowley's shoulder.

When she arrived at the bar, he stood. "This is Marshal Frank Crowley. He has kindly offered to help us out with Meese. Crowley, this is Deputy Landers."

"Howdy," Marly said, wiping a grimy hand on her jeans and offering it to Crowley.

"Landers."

Jase noticed a faraway look in the older man's eyes, as if he were trying to recall something.

Pequeño brought Marly a beer.

She reached for the beer and took a deep gulp. "You know, I think I'm developing a taste for this stuff. It really does wash away the dust."

Jase groaned, then glanced back at Crowley.

The man was staring at Marly.

Jase cleared his throat. "Marly, I told the marshal about your predicament
―
our
predicament. He's―"

"Marly Landers?" Crowley's eyes flared.

Marly gave him a puzzled look. ""Do I know you?"

The marshal's mouth floundered for words.

Jase watched with suspicion. What the hell was going on?

Suddenly, Marly gasped. "I
do
know you!"

Sh
e reached a hand out and Crowley grabbed it.

"Marly," he whispered. "I never thought I'd see you again."

At this, Jase felt a surge of jealousy wash over him.

"You two mind tellin' me what's goin' on?"

"This is Sarge," Marly said, laughing. "The one I told you about. The one who saved me."

He remembered. He also recalled that Sarge had been very protective of Marly. The man had killed his companions to preserve her safety.

Jase swallowed hard.

Maybe he'd better make his will out tonight. If Crowley decided that Jase deserved to die, he wasn't sure he'd put up a fight.

"I wanted to write you, Sarge," Marly said. "But I never knew you as anything but Sarge. If Aunt Adele knew your name, she wouldn't tell me."

"I thought as much," Crowley said. "I wrote you, but I never took it personally that I didn't hear back. I reckoned that your aunt wouldn't pass my letters on." He shook his head. "I was nuts to take you back to her."

Marly opened her mouth to comment.

"Why don't we get all caught up tonight," Jase interru
pted. "Marly, we've been invited to supper at Marshal Crowley's home."

Marly kissed the man's cheek before leaving. "See you later, Sarge―I mean, Marshal."

With tears in his eyes, Crowley watched her leave.

Then he turned to Jase. "You know, son, you got a
lot of explaining to do."

Jase sighed. "I reckon so."

Marly was not at her best when she met the Crowley family. Women wearing trousers were an acceptable necessity at times, but not at a family dinner. That she had been masquerading as a boy was not quite acceptable either. Fortunately, Mrs. Crowley was of a sympathetic and romantic disposition. It helped that she knew about the little girl that her husband had wanted to adopt and remembered so fondly.

The marshal and missus took great pleasure in introducing baby Marly, their first daughter. There was some awkwardness when Frank Jr. wondered why their baby Marly was a girl and their guest Marly was a boy.

Mrs. Crowley explained that both were girls, but that their guest had ridden a long way dressed as a boy to be safe. She insisted that Marly stay with them, starting immediately.

After supper, Jase was sent back to the El Hombre for her things. Marly was waiting for him on the front porch when he returned to the Crowleys home with her gun belt and saddlebags.

"You probably won't need this for a while," he said, handing her the gun belt.

Ignoring him, she strapped on the gun belt and attempted a quick draw. Jase caught her Winchester between his hands as it came up. She let go. He dropped it, catching it again by the trigger guard. The revolver spun on his finger. Then he flipped it up and caught it by the barrel and handed it back to her.

"Show off," she said, giving him a reluctant smile.

She sat down on the top step and Jase joined her.

She gathered her thoughts before speaking.

"When I first went to live with Aunt Adele," she said, "I fantasized about Sarge returning to take me to Texas. I felt like I had lost a second father. This reunion, coming here..." She shrugged. "It's strange. Mrs. Crowley wants me to call her Aunt Jeannie. She says she's looking forward to making me into a lady again. As if I was ever a lady to start with."

Jase placed his hand over hers. "I'd say she wasn't puttin' too many demands on your bein' a proper lady so far."

"Proper lady," Marly sneered.

"These are good folks. Understandin' folks. I don't blame Mrs. Crowley for not wantin' you to stay at the El Hombre. It ain't a suitable place for you. Safe, though she might not believe it, but not appropriate. I know you're not a big one for propriety, but aside from the fact they care about you, the Crowleys are helpin' us out."

She knew what he was saying was true, but she couldn't help the overwhelming sadness that gripped her heart. She and Jase had never been apart for long. And now she wouldn't be sleeping in the bed next to his.

"I know," she said. "It seems like a miracle finding Sarge. I am grateful that he remembers me and that his family has accepted me into their home. But…" she glanced at him, "I'd rather have stayed with you."

He said nothing.

"That isn't proper now, is it?" she asked.

She held his eyes, willing him to argue.

"No," he agreed. "It ain't proper. Never really was."

Jase slept late, making up little for the restless night he'd spent. He got up and dressed. The silent, empty room mocked him and left him feeling aimless and sad.

Leaving the shed, he went inside the saloon.

"You look like something the cat dragged home," Pequeño remarked.

"Got any coffee?"

"Well, if I looked that bad, I'd have a temper too."

Pequeño brought out a pot and two cups, then led Jase to the back table. Setting the mugs down, the bartender looked over his shoulder. "Where's the chico? Pedro has made burritos for his breakfast."

"Gone."

"Gone where?"

"Just gone. Stayin' with his folks now."

"With no good bye?" Pequeño shook his head. "I don't buy that, amigo. You bring him back. Pedro won't be happy if you don't. An unhappy cook is bad for business."

"I don't think I can. This ain't exactly the most respectable joint in town, you know. The family might not approve."

"Don't tell them you're bringing him here."

Jase snorted. "They'd find out. Trust me."

"Make Pedro happy," Pequeño implored. "Make me happy. Maybe even make yourself happier."

"Good idea."

"That why they call me El Hombre."

Jase grinned. "Yeah, you're the man, my friend."

He had a few errands to run, but shortly before noon he was at the Crowleys home. A young girl answered the front door.

"I'm Mary-Beth," she said when Jase introduced himself. "I'm looking after the children."

"I'm lookin' for Marly."

"Mrs. Crowley took her out shopping. You can meet them at the Traveler's Inn."

The Traveler's Inn was a modest and respectable looking edifice. The adobe was whitewashed and there were chintz curtains across the bottom of the windows
. It was the kind of proper establishment a young woman should be seen in.

Marshal Crowley intercepted him in the doorway.

"A girl named Mary-Beth―"

Crowley held up a hand. "Silliest girl in the state, but the children love her. You're here, that's what co
unts. I promised Marly I'd find you." He put a hand on Jase's shoulder, stopping him from entering the inn. "I should warn you, she isn't too comfortable in her skirts. She might need a bit of encouragement."

Jase spotted Mrs. Crowley over the marshal's shoulder.

Beside her stood a young lady. She was stunning in beauty and grace, and the smile she aimed at Crowley's wife was breathtaking.

For a second, he thought the beauty was the shopkeeper.

Then he realized who it was.

He pushed past Crowley. "Marly?"

Marly turned and her smile froze.

She wore a blue calico dress that brought out the vibrant sapphire of her eyes. Though it was probably one of Mrs. Crowley's dresses, the woman had cinched it in where needed and it fit Marly like a glove, flowing out from her narrow waist.

Instead of one long braid, Marly's hair was plaited in two braids that were pinned up in a circlet around her head. Jase suspected that the severe style was one Aunt Adele favored. Marly probably used it without thinking.

Still, it brought out her high cheekbones and soft lips.

Lips he longed to kiss.

As they approached the table, Marly started to rise. Mrs. Crowley stopped her with a hand on her arm. Ladies did not stand for gentlemen.

Knowing he was supposed to be encouraging, Jase said, "That's a nice dress."

It sounded weak even to his ears, but he was off-balance. He couldn't think of a thing to say that would be appropriate at this time and place.

Marly seemed to be having the same problem.

"The post comes in this afte
rnoon," Crowley said, filling in the awkward silence. "Your boy might get a bit suspicious if his package doesn't turn up."

"So this is a good time for me to claim it," Marly said. "Then Charlie Meese―or whatever he is calling himself―will have to confront
me."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Mrs. Crowley objected.

"I have to do it, ma'am. I have a score to settle."

"She won't be alone," Jase said. "Marshal Crowley and I plan to keep Marly in sight at all times. Besides, Marly can take pretty good care of herself."

At least, he sure hoped so.

The stage brought the mail in late afternoon. Passengers debarked and most checked into the nearby Traveler's Inn. One well-dressed gentleman went straight to the Alhambra. Another man in less flashy attire spoke to the driver, then wandered down the road.

Marly observed this from the porch of the inn where she sat, ankles crossed, with Jane Austen's
Northanger Abbey
open on her lap. She had changed from calico to a brown riding skirt with a matching jacket worn open over a pleated blouse. The suit had been bought and fitted earlier in the day, the tailor putting this job above all others for the sake of the marshal's ward. Though it was fancier than the old calico dress, she was more comfortable in her new outfit.