Belle Gone Bad (3 page)

“I
'll hear no more of you two sniping at each other. Diana comes first.” Mama Lou dusted her palms together.

“That's right.” Big Jim pushed open the batwing doors of the Red River Saloon. “Let's get Mercy packed up.”

Mama Lou sailed into the saloon with her head held high and Big Jim on her heels.

Belle hesitated. She wanted to help her friends, but they were interfering with her own important plans. She'd stopped by the Bend to pick up supplies and say hello. Now she was setting off on an unknown path with a stranger. Yet she'd only agreed to four days. If she hadn't found Diana or her trail by then, she'd be free to go her own way.

She glanced at her traveling companion, wondering what she was getting into with him.

Mercy swept an imaginary hat from his head, extended his hand toward the doors, and gave an elegant bow. “Please precede me, fair damsel.”

She couldn't keep from chuckling at his humor. “You won't catch me with that old ruse.”

“Ruse?”

“A gentleman opens the door for a lady. As she steps ahead, he puts his six-shooter to her back and robs her of her jewelry.”

“Are you sure it's not so he can flip up her skirts and see the shape of her ankles?”

“Not in my world.”

“Too innocent?”

“Too much effort for too little reward. He can easily see shapely ankles by walking into any dance hall.”

“But that would suppose he wasn't particular.”

“Won't any ankle do?”

“Not for this gentleman.”

She shook her head, feeling too warm again. When Mercy put his mind to it, he could be a charmer. If he wasn't sick, she imagined that he'd be devastating to ladies. Fortunately, she wasn't susceptible to charming rogues. She'd seen behind too many of their masks. She liked a straight-shooter. Unfortunately, she'd already found and lost the perfect man for her.

“Why don't you take a look at the bar? I'm clothing the ladies, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

He gave her a sly smile. “Depends on what you call clothes.”

“Clothes are clothes.”

“I like to think there are a number of ways to accent a lady's charms.”

“Maybe I'd better have a look.”

She stepped into the saloon with Mercy right behind her. As Tex had taught her long ago, she located the exits and everyone inside. Nothing appeared out of place. Big Jim pointed at something on top of the bar. Two drifters drank whiskey while they stroked the surface of the bar with their fingertips. Four men sat at a back table playing poker.

“I hope you'll gain a new appreciation for my art once you see the enhancements,” Mercy said.

“If it's what I saw before, you do appear to get around.”

He chuckled. “I have an exact memory for the female face and form.”

“For your sake, I hope all those ladies whose images you remember and draw so well are back East.”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“It's not words that'll get you into trouble.”

“Is my secret safe with you?”

“Nothing about you is safe with me.”

“That's what I like to hear from a lady.”

She glanced up into his eyes. They'd darkened to smoky gray with obvious interest. She felt an interest of her own unfurl deep within her, a hot, achy feeling that begged for relief. She hadn't felt anything close to it since Hackett. She disliked the sensation. It made her feel disloyal. No one could ever be as perfect as her long-lost love.

She quickly walked to the legendary bar. It was just as scandalous as ever. Each lovely lady's face and form was unique and surely based on personal acquaintance. She could only wonder at how many women Mercy had made happy over the years. She felt a spurt of jealousy that made no sense. She had no interest in him except to find Diana.

“Look what Mercy did for Lulu.” Big Jim pointed toward one of the figures. “He made her even better.”

Belle looked where he indicated and looked again. She stepped closer, hardly able to believe her eyes. Mercy had clothed Lulu with a gold chain around her waist to fill in the cut. He'd also placed a garnet in her navel. Crimson glittered from the tip of each breast. More gold gleamed at the apex of her thighs in the shape of a small ring.

Belle felt an answering tug in that most sensitive of places as if he'd placed a ring through her own nub. She shivered at the sensation. She could well imagine Mercy leading willing women around by that invisible ring.

“See, I did clothe her.”

She felt Mercy's breath warm on her face as he leaned in close. He smelled of charcoal from drawing. She could feel the heat of his body. He reached out, brushed her shoulder, and touched Lulu with the tip of one long finger. She watched, breath caught in her throat, as he stroked the figure's face, teased the rosy tip of each breast, followed the line of the gold waist chain, and finally settled on the gold ring.

“Do you like Lulu's clothes?” He stroked Lulu's ring back and forth, gently but firmly.

Belle felt mesmerized by the sight, as if every stroke of his fingertip plied her own sensitive nub. She licked her lower lip, feeling hot, wet, and needy in the very place of his relentless touch.

“Clothes, hah!” Big Jim chortled. “I get nothing all day long from patrons but how I've got to add turquoise and pearls and whatnot to all the g'hals. They're jealous of Lulu's finery.”

“You have to admit it's a clever way to repair that hatchet cut across Lulu's middle, don't you?” Mama Lou asked.

“Even if you don't agree,” Big Jim said, “it's bringing in more customers than I can shake a stick at.”

“I agree.” Belle moved away from Mercy. “It's quite clever. But not for me.”

“You want me to create a male shape for you?” Mercy asked, chuckling. “I can do a lot that you might like with wood.”

Mama Lou laughed. “Mercy, you're a bad boy. I'm not sure if I should send you off with Belle.”

“Not to worry,” Mercy said. “You know I'm sick and weak.”

“Belle'll keep him in line.” Big Jim pointed a finger at Mercy.

“What I'm hoping to do,” Belle said, tongue in cheek, “is inspire him with nature's beauty. By the time we return, he'll surely take up wild flower or landscape painting.”

Big Jim laughed so hard that tears ran down his face. Mama Lou gasped and chortled and flapped her apron at the idea.

Mercy chuckled. “Maybe Belle can help me. I see a painting of a beautiful lady, naked as the day she was born, stretched out in a field of wild flowers as if awaiting her lover.”

Belle simply shook her head. If this was an example, their four days together were going to seem like a year.

M
ercy had almost forgotten how good it felt to laugh. It'd been a long time since anything had amused him. If nothing else, Belle might keep up his humor.

“Mercy's got a gift,” Big Jim said. “No point in him wasting it on stuff we can see out the front door or in a mercantile store.”

“Not another word about art.” Mama Lou gestured toward the batwing doors. “They need to get going. I'll put some food together for your saddlebags.”

“Thanks,” Belle said.

Mercy rolled up his sketch and put his charcoal sticks back in the box. No point in taking it all with him. But he never traveled without paper and pencil in case he had an idea.

“I'll go on down to Adler Emporium and pick up supplies,” Belle said.

“Let's go together,” Mercy agreed. “I need to get a few things, too.”

Belle gave a quick nod and pushed out the doors.

Mercy turned to his friends. “I can tell you're worried about her.”

“First it was Hackett, then Tex.” Big Jim shook his head. “I'm afraid trouble is gonna find her sooner or later.”

“She's smart and strong,” Mama Lou said. “Diana's the one who needs our concern right now. And you, too, Mercy.”

“I'll be okay.” He shook Big Jim's hand. “And I'll do my best to bring both ladies safely home.”

He grabbed his broad-brimmed hat off the table and stepped outside with Mama Lou. Business was picking up in town. It'd build till nightfall brought in the revelers. He set his hat on his head, smiled at Belle and Mama Lou, and then extended an elbow to each side so he could escort them both down the boardwalk.

Mama Lou quickly tucked her hand in the crook of his arm while Belle took off ahead of them. She was impatient and independent. She was also intriguing and delectable. If he hadn't been so sick and down on his luck, he might have considered giving her a run for her money.

When they arrived at Adler Emporium, Belle waited for them outside on the boardwalk.

Mama Lou patted his arm before stepping forward to hug Belle. “Now be careful and bring them home safe.”

“Maybe I'll finally catch that bushwhacker,” Belle said.

“Please don't put yourself in danger. I couldn't stand to lose you, too.”

“You know I'll be back for your corn fritters dripping with honey and butter.”

Mama Lou chuckled. “I'll send some with you.”

“Maybe a few of those muffins, too,” Mercy said.

“You'll find food waiting for you at Manny's when you get your horses.”

“Thanks,” Belle said.

“Take care.” Mama Lou gave Mercy a quick hug, then set off down the boardwalk.

“She's got a heart as big as Texas, doesn't she?” Belle said.

“Lots of folks in Texas have big hearts.” Mercy opened the door to the dry goods store.

Belle stepped inside and he followed her. He glanced around the store's narrow, deep space with glass cases and shelves of merchandise along both sides of a center aisle. Colors, shapes, and scents filled his senses. In one corner, two chairs were positioned on either side of a checkerboard set on top of a wooden pickle barrel.

“Guten morgan!”
Ludmila called as she walked out from behind a counter.

Mercy appreciated her with his artist's eye just as he did all the other pretty women of Texas. She was statuesque with blue eyes, pink cheeks, pale skin, and thick blonde hair pulled back in a chignon. She wore a lapis and white print calico dress with ruffles at neck and hem. She'd also tied a white apron around her small waist.

He wondered how she'd avoided getting hitched to a big, handsome Texikaner from the German settlements in the Hill Country. For some reason, she'd left her home and family there and come far north to the Bend. Maybe she was simply another independent lady like Belle. Yet she might also be running from her past like so many others.

“How are you two doing today?” Ludmila asked.

“We're going on scout,” Belle said.

“After the bushwhacker,
ja
?”

“Diana, too,” Mercy said. “Did you hear she's missing?”

“Manny didn't find her?”

“No,” he said. “And I'm worried about her.”

“With Belle by your side, you'll surely locate Diana.”

“I hope so,” Belle said. “Right now, I need to pick up four boxes of .44 caliber ammunition.”

“We better get some jerky, crackers, and cheese, too,” Mercy added.

“I'd like Mercy to get a gun-belt and six-shooter,” Belle said.

Mercy glanced at her in surprise. “I'm not good with a gun.”

“I don't want to travel with an unarmed man in Indian Territory.”

He quickly slipped a dagger out of his boot, tossed it between his palms, and then tucked it back in place. “I'm armed.”

“That's for up close,” Belle said. “Odds are you'd never get a chance to use your knife.”

“I'll take that chance.”

“Bushwhackers don't play fair.” Ludmila gave a firm nod of her head before she walked away.

“Ring up a revolver and gun-belt, too,” Belle said.

“You're not buying me a gun.” Mercy frowned at her. “If I'm getting one, I'm buying it.”

“Fine,” Belle agreed. “I suggest the Colt .44 Frontier and two boxes of ammunition.”

“Good choice,” Ludmila called as she reached under a counter.

“Okay.” Mercy didn't plan to use the six-shooter, so he didn't care what kind he got. On the other hand, it couldn't hurt to have an extra weapon.

“Please come back here,” Ludmila said. “If there's anything else you wish, do let me know.”

Mercy walked with Belle to the big black cash register with gold trim on top of the back counter. Ludmila had precisely arranged the food, ammunition, gun-belt, and six-shooter.

“Belle, this is for you. No charge.” Ludmila pushed a tooled gun-belt across the countertop and then beckoned with long fingers.

Mercy noticed a jagged scar across the palm of Ludmila's right hand. What had happened to her? Maybe she'd had a cooking accident or something had slipped and cut her in the store. It was still a crimson welt, so it hadn't happened when she was a child. Instead of marring her perfection, the scar gave her character. Yet he couldn't help wondering again about her past.

“No, thank you,” Belle said.

“I won't take no for an answer,” Ludmila insisted. “I want to see you change gun-belts right now.”

Mercy glanced from one woman to the other in surprise.

“You're not safe wearing such a big gun-belt,” Ludmila said. “You could get your hand or your Colt caught when you draw.”

“I've worked with it.”

“You know I'm right.” Ludmila appeared concerned. “Tex wouldn't want you getting killed over what he would consider sentimental nonsense.”

“I vowed to wear Pa's six-shooter till I got justice for him.”

“Understandable,” Ludmila said. “Why don't you combine Tex's Colt with this fine German gun-belt? I'll feel you're safer out there.”

“If it helps, you can put my new six-shooter in his gun-belt.” Mercy had wondered about her gun-belt the first time he saw her. Now he understood why she wore it. Maybe her prickly exterior hid a vulnerable interior.

“That's a good idea,” Ludmila said.

“All right,” Belle agreed. “Thank you. I don't think it'll make much difference, but I'll do it for your sake.”

“Thanks,” Ludmila said. “I'll sleep better at night.”

As Mercy watched, Belle quickly exchanged gun-belts, adjusted the new one on her hips, and then slid her six-shooter home.

He tossed a double gold eagle onto the countertop. “That ought to cover it.”

“You're not paying for everything,” Belle said.

“Yes, I am.” He picked up the packages, wrapped fingers around her elbow, and steered her toward the door. “If we argue about every single damn thing, we'll never get out of Delaware Bend.”