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All I Need Is You Page 16

by Johanna Lindsey


Was she trying to make him laugh? “Verbally—or with that gun you tote?”

She gave him a sour look. Apparently, she had been quite serious.

“You’ve lived all these years under an assumption, Damian. Doesn’t that bother you? I’d want confirmation one way or the other, if it were me.”

“She wasn’t there when I might have needed her. I don’t need her now. So what would be the point?”

“Maybe for your own peace of mind. Maybe because she’s the only family you have left. Maybe because you’ve recently found out that she’s a widow again—and lonely. But that’s just how I’d feel about it, if it were me. ’Course, both my parents have always been around, so what do I know?”

Scolding and contrite in the same breath. Amazing how she could do that. But perhaps she was right. Maybe he should have confronted his mother long ago to find out what she had to say for herself. It couldn’t have made him feel any worse. He already believed the worst.

“I’ll think about it,” he conceded in a low-voiced grumble.

Her answer was a smile and a change of subject. “Now, about Jack Curruthers—”

“Not so fast,” he interrupted. “Are you forgetting your ‘maybe’? Fair is fair, Casey. Let’s hear a bit more about your family now.”

Casey gave him a long-suffering sigh and swiped up the wine bottle to refill her glass. “Well, you already know that both my parents are still living.”

“Together?”

“Oh, yes, it’s quite a deep and abiding love they share. Gets downright embarrassing sometimes, when they can’t keep their hands off each other.”

She managed not to blush when she said it. He shouldn’t have asked, though. Most married people with children did stay together, especially when divorce, in high society at least, could be so scandalous.

“I have two brothers, no sisters,” she continued. “Tyler’s not quite a year my elder. He’s the one who’s going to be the lawyer in the family. Dillon’s the hell-raiser, though he’s only fourteen. I lost one grandpa recently, a cantankerous old cuss I dearly loved. But I still have another who’s been a doctor all his life, and still practicing at it, though only with his regular patients. No other relatives, though, since neither my mother nor my father had any other siblings.”

“And the reason why you left home?”

She frowned. And nearly a minute of silence stretched out before she finally said, “It was just a small disagreement with my father.”

“It couldn’t have been all that small, Casey, to have sent you out on your own.”

“Well, it was important to me, is all. He didn’t think I’d be capable of handling certain things because I’m a woman. And he was being pigheaded-stubborn about it.”

“So you set out to prove him wrong—by being a bounty hunter, something most women would never think about being?”

“Something like that,” she mumbled.

“Considering how dangerous the line of work you chose is, who was really being stubborn?”

“I didn’t ask for your approval of what I did, Damian,” she reminded him.

“No, you didn’t. And you can stop glaring at me. I know I pushed you into revealing so much. But I won’t apologize. You are a fascinating woman, Casey. I can’t help wanting to know all there is to know about you.”

She was blushing now. And she attacked the remaining portion of her steak with a vengeance.

He probably shouldn’t have said that. She obviously didn’t want the conversation to get any more personal than it already had. But after sitting across from her all this time and being able to stare at her to his heart’s content because staring was acceptable during conversation, he was having a problem with another “wanting” as well.

And he really shouldn’t act on it, knew what answer he’d likely get, but he asked anyway. “Come to my room tonight, Mrs. Rutledge?”

Her scowl was immediate as she glanced at him. “You mean you haven’t found out yet whether they have a judge in this town or not?”

“They don’t.”

Her lips twisted a bit sourly. “Now how did I know that you’d know that already?” She stood up, still scowling. “I have a room, thank you very much. And if we’re to leave early in the morning, I think I’ll go make use of it.”

“Casey…”

She didn’t let him finish. “Get your mind back on what’s important, and stop acting like I’m the only female around. I’m not, and you might want to take advantage of that before we hit the trail again.”

She walked off in a huff. Well, he’d been expecting that kind of response from her, after the way she’d been acting all day. But that she’d more or less suggested he find himself a willing prostitute was ludicrous. He didn’t want just any woman, he wanted the one he was married to.

Chapter 29

Casey wasn’t in top form the next morning. She’d stopped in a saloon after leaving the restaurant the night before, to pick up another bottle of wine to take to bed with her. Not very bright on her part, but her emotions had been in a wild turmoil all day yesterday. She’d never have gotten to sleep otherwise.

Yesterday, she’d been certain that Henry would be in Culthers, so she’d been sure that she and Damian would be parting for good before the end of the day. She still felt in her bones that Henry was there, either hiding or doing a good job of pretending to be his own brother Jack. But the hunt hadn’t ended. And Casey’s turmoil continued.

She never should have made love with Damian the other night. She never should have let her body dictate the matter when her mind knew better. Appeasing her curiosity had accomplished only one thing. She now knew what else she’d be missing when he was gone. It was bad enough that she was going to miss him at all. Yet she knew she would. She’d somehow gotten attached to him in a way that had nothing to do with their temporary marriage. A real fool thing to let happen—not that she’d had any choice.

And she was already experiencing the loss. That was the unusual part. He wasn’t even gone yet, but she knew he would be, and soon—and she hated the way it made her feel, which was downright rotten.

She shouldn’t be taking it out on him, though, which was pretty much what she’d done yesterday. It wasn’t his fault that they weren’t, nor ever could be, compatible. They both were raised too differently, in two completely different cultures. She’d be miserable in his, and he’d be miserable in hers, and there was no getting around that.

She hadn’t done her job thoroughly yesterday either, but she corrected that this morning, stopping for a chat with Miss Larissa, the town’s schoolteacher and boardinghouse owner. She also spoke to a few folks whom she came across on the way to the stable. They all had about the same thing to say about Curruthers, which was what she reported to Damian when she joined him at the stable.

“Jack Curruthers hasn’t been here as long as he claims. That was an outright lie, backed up by more lies from those cronies of his.”

“Is that just your opinion, or have you confirmed it?” Damian asked.

“I only suspected it, but I figured he couldn’t have everyone in town on his payroll, so it was easy enough to find out the truth. The schoolmarm says he arrived here about the same time she did, less than five months ago. Two others said the same thing.”

“What about Henry showing up?”

“None recall a twin brother, were surprised to even hear Curruthers had one. But one fellow did mention that he was advised by Jack’s election committee that he better be voting for Jack.”

Damian raised a brow. “Does that infer a threat of violence?”

“Coming from those particular hired hands? I’d say it was more of a promise.”

“So he actually intends to strong-arm his way into the mayor’s office?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“In a big city, I quite agree. I would have thought it would be different out here, though, where people are starting new lives for themselves.”

&nb
sp; “Ah, but Curruthers doesn’t hail from out here; he hails from the big city. Besides, you can find corruption anywhere, Damian, if you look hard enough. It’s just not as prevalent when everyone knows everyone else, which is the case in most Western towns. But as for Jack, the question is, why would he lie at all if he’s really Henry’s twin—and not Henry pretending to be Jack?”

“You think he’s sending us off on a fool’s errand just to give himself time to escape again?”

“No, I don’t think he wants to leave what he’s got going here. If anything, we’ve created a problem for him that he’ll try to eliminate.”

“You’re expecting trouble, then?”

“You betcha.” And in her present mood, Casey was looking forward to it.

“Then why are we even bothering to go back to Sanderson to send off that telegram?”

“Because you’ll need all the facts you can get before you confront him again. Which reminds me—I assume you already know the name of this aunt in New York, since you didn’t ask for it yesterday.”

“Yes. After Henry disappeared, she was questioned. She swore he was innocent, incapable of doing anything so dastardly—her words. Remember, he had supported her for most of his life. I would have been surprised if she hadn’t staunchly defended him in this.”

“She never mentioned him having a twin?”

“No, but then, she wasn’t very cooperative, as I’m sure you can imagine. She answered the questions asked of her without volunteering anything extra that might help to find him.”

Casey nodded. “Well, let’s get going. The sooner you send that telegram off, the sooner we can get back here and finish this thing.”

“Then you do think Jack is Henry, don’t you?”

“Actually, no. What I do think, though, is that he knows where Henry is. Here or elsewhere, he knows. Getting him to say where ought to be interesting.”

Damian frowned. “You aren’t suggesting I beat it out of him, are you?”

Casey grinned. “Only as a last resort.”

Chapter 30

Expecting trouble, Casey didn’t get much sleep that first night on the way back to Sanderson. Damian didn’t either, so they took turns keeping watch throughout the night. But no one showed up to insist they leave the area and soon-to-be Mayor Curruthers alone.

Damian sent off his telegram and checked into the hotel to await his reply and catch up on lost sleep. Casey was still too keyed up to retire. She sauntered into the noisier of the two saloons on the main street, had at least one drink at the bar first, then asked to join one of the three poker games in progress.

She picked the table that looked like it was having more fun than conducting any serious gambling, with three easygoing fellows who were doing a lot of joking and talking while they played, which was what she wanted to do, at least the talking part. And they took right to her, as if they’d known her for years, even to teasing her about her age and if she really knew how to play.

She let a good thirty minutes pass, during which time she lost consistently, before she introduced her first casual question. “Any of you fellas hear of Jack Curruthers, the man who’s running for mayor over in Culthers?”

“Not much. Why?” John Wescot asked.

John had introduced himself as the only dentist in town and guaranteed that he’d make it a painless experience if Casey should happen to require his services. She had managed to keep from snorting while she declined.

“I’ve heard he’s a bandy rooster trying to fill shoes too big for him.” Bucky Alcott said.

Bucky was an old range cook for one of the local ranches. Until he’d mentioned that, it hadn’t occurred to Casey that it was a Saturday night—which was why the saloons were so full, what with ranch hands coming into town for a bit of typical weekend hell-raising

“I was just there,” Casey replied, again in a casual way, as she studied her cards from the current hand. “Heard it said more’n once that his men are leaning on folks to get them to vote for him.”

“Now why don’t that surprise me none?” Pete Drummond remarked, shaking his head.

Pete was somewhat of a tenderfoot, having come West only two years ago, though he had adapted fairly well, even to speaking the lingo, which was a case of butchering the language he undoubtedly could speak with perfect diction if he chose to, but he didn’t choose to. He sold firearms for a living and had opened a store here in Sanderson.

“Then you know Jack?” Casey asked Pete.

“No, but I seen him when he passed through here on his way to Culthers. Little fella acted like he owned the town—the whole dern state, for that matter. Never met anyone that blatantly arrogant.”

“Do you know who the men are that he has working for him over in Culthers?”

“Might be Jed Paisley and his boys,” the dentist said with a thoughtful frown. “They were working on the Hastings spread for a while, ’bout halfway ’tween here and Culthers, but I heard they complained that was too tame for them and they moved on.”

“You’re probably right, John. My sister was up that way a few weeks ago and mentioned she saw Jed and one of his boys in Culthers—and wearing suits, no less. Imagine that hombre in a suit?” Pete said.

“Who exactly is Jed Paisley?” Casey asked.

“Well, it’s all rumor, you understand, nothing ever proven, but they say he used to run with the Ortega gang down Mexico way, terrorizing the peasants and killing just for the fun of it.” Pete was warming up to the subject. “That was for a couple o’ years, before he tried his hand at lawful employment, working for the ranches around these parts. He did kill a fella last year right here in this saloon. Was a stupid excuse for killing, if you ask me, but he got away with it just the same.”

Casey was too curious to ignore that one. “What was the reason?”

“From the way I heard it, the victim was doing Jed a kindness to try and save him embarrassment by whispering to him that he’d forgotten to button up after coming back from the john. Instead Jed took it as an insult that the fella had even noticed and shot him dead.”

Casey shook her head. “A mite touchy.”

“No, mighty touchy. Jed’s not a nice sort by any means. Didn’t none of us miss him when he stopped coming here.” Pete’s emphatic nod punctuated his words.

“I had to pull one of his teeth once,” John put in. “Don’t think I ever sweated so much. He had his hand on his gun the whole time.”

“I suppose his boys are cut from the same cloth?” Casey asked.

“Oh, yes,” Pete volunteered. “There were five of them in all. Running into one or two of them wasn’t so bad, since they didn’t exactly go out of their way to make trouble, just never ignored it if’n it came their way. But when all five of them were together, and drinking to boot, well, someone usually always got hurt. And the dern sheriff was too afraid of them to do anything about it.”

“So is it a safe guess that they’re all fast guns?” Casey needed clarification.

John shrugged. “Can’t rightly say. ‘Accurate’ is more like it.”

“Mason is fast.” Bucky spoke up now. “I saw him demonstrate his draw once when he was tryin’ to impress Miss Annie, back when he was a-courtin’ her. But like John said, Jed could definitely hit whatever he had a mind to aim at. Couple of kids stirred up a wasp’s nest one Sunday when Jed was passin’ near it, and damned if he didn’t shoot them poor wasps instead of just gettin’ out of the way, even reloaded to finish every single one of them off. Most folks said the kids were lucky he didn’t shoot them instead, and most other folks were inclined to agree. Fact is, if they hadn’t run like hell, he mighta.”

“Do you know anything about the other three?” Casey asked.

“The youngest is Jethro, who’s also Jed’s younger brother. He came out here to join Jed a few years back. He’s a little bully who glories in his brother’s reputation and takes advantage of it, but he’d be nothin’ on his own.”

John chimed in again.
“Elroy Bencher, now, likes to push his weight around without resorting to actual gunplay. He considers himself unbeatable when it comes to using his fists. Fact is, he was forever trying to get someone to try to go a round or two with him, but we don’t raise stupid folks around here. The one man who did give Elroy a go for it got his spine broke in the fight and hasn’t walked since.”

Casey grimaced. “And the last one?”

Pete shook his head. “No one knows much of anything about Candiman, which makes him the more dangerous, if you ask me. He’s quiet, too quiet, and always watching.”

“Funny name,” Casey remarked.

“It’s what he calls himself. His friends just call him Candy, and when they’re all together, you’re sure to see at least one of them toss him a piece of candy. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him not sucking on something sweet.”

“I’d love to get him in my chair.” John chuckled. “That’s if he’d leave his guns outside the office.”

They all were chuckling over that; then Pete finally thought to ask, “Why all the questions, Kid?”

Casey gave the simplest explanation that didn’t require details. “I had a little run-in with Curruthers and his bunch when I was there, but since business is going to take me back, just wanted to know if I had anything in particular to worry about.”

“I’d stay away from the lot of them if I were you,” John suggested.

“Wouldn’t even go back to Culthers if it were me,” Bucky added.

“Be glad you escaped in one piece the first time, Kid. Don’t tempt your luck a second time,” was Pete’s comment.

Good, well-meaning advice from nice, friendly folks, for which Casey thanked them before parting company. It was too bad she couldn’t take their advice, though. But then, she wasn’t that worried about Jack’s hired guns, only a little worried. After all, they didn’t even wear their guns, probably because it was bad for Jack’s political image. But without them, how dangerous could they really be?