Just Her Type (20 page)

He lolled drunkenly against the dash. “It's no problem. We'll have the party at the OG Star.”

“No thank you.”

He ignored her as he leaned forward. “It's a private party. You understand, don't you, Bradfield? Only for real men.” When Luke did not answer, Aaron snapped, “Get out, Bradfield!”

Mackenzie put a hand on Luke's arm. “Aaron, don't—”

“Don't what?” O'Grady growled. He straightened and put his face directly in hers. When she turned away from the odor of whiskey, he grasped her face and twisted it back to him. “Don't hurt your tenderfoot lover?”

“Aaron, be sensible. If …” Her words trailed away as O'Grady raised his pistol to point past her.

“I said, ‘Get out, Bradfield,' and I meant it. You wouldn't want Mackenzie to get blood all over her pretty dress, would you?”

Pain pierced her as she saw the determined tilt of Luke's chin when he climbed down from the buggy. She clenched her hands. If she said the wrong thing, it was sure to start the catastrophe she wanted to avoid.

“What do you want, O'Grady?” Luke asked coolly. “The party's in town, not out here.”

“Then I'm surprised you're here.” He motioned for Luke to come around to his side. “I thought you'd be sticking your nose into everything as usual. Instead you're going for a moonlight ride with my girl.” His hand slid over the edge of seat and settled on Mackenzie's knee. When she gasped and slapped it away, he laughed. “C'mon, darlin', don't be so skittish! It's not as if you're unused to a man's touch.” He grabbed her around the waist.

“Take your hands off her, O'Grady!”

“Luke, no!” she cried.

He gripped O'Grady's arm and twirled him away from the buggy. “I told you to stay away from her!”

“Luke!” she shouted again, but it was too late.

Luke's fist was caught as the other men swarmed over him. When he disappeared beneath their blows, she screamed. She leaped from the buggy as Luke collapsed with a grunt of pain. Hands tried to halt her, but she grasped the arm of a man who was set to hit Luke again. She shrieked as he swept her away. As she struck the ground, she reached out to snag an ankle. As the man tried to move, he tripped over her arm and crashed to the earth.

“You little—!” he growled as he whirled to face her. He lifted his fist. She cowered away, covering her head with her arms.

The blow never fell. Heavy hands jerked her to her feet, fingers biting into her arm. Swallowing her moan, she looked at Aaron o'Grady. He was smiling. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip until she gave a half-sob.

“Darlin', why don't you and me go into town and get Reverend Manning out of the social? Within the hour, we can be honeymooning at the Benton House.” He bent to press his lips against her neck. Hearing his men's lewd laughter, he forced her closer.

She shoved against his chest. When he rocked backward, she realized he was more intoxicated than she had guessed. “I have no intention of marrying you tonight or any other night, Aaron O'Grady! You're the last man on earth I'd ever marry. If you think I'd marry Cameron's—” She stopped herself. This would be the worst time to confront O'Grady with her suspicions.

His arms tried to encircle her again. When she eluded him, one of his men caught her and sent her into his boss's embrace. “If that's the way you want it. No wedding, darlin'. Just the honeymoon. You've never had a real man. McCraven and Bradfield together aren't half the man I am.”

“You're insane!” she gasped as she arched her shoulders to break his hold, but winced when his arms tightened around her. “If you want a tumble, find one of the gals at Stub's. Plunk down your gold, and she'll lay down for you.”

He chortled, picking her up as easily as if she were a blade of grass. She kicked at him, but he dropped her into the buggy. He shoved her across the seat as he tried to clamber aboard. His legs refused to obey him.

She jumped out on the other side. The men crowed with laughter. There were six, including Aaron. Even if Luke were conscious, they had no chance without a weapon. A weapon. She ran to the side of the closest man and jerked the pistol out of his holster. She whirled to aim it at Aaron. Even if he could prove he was innocent of Cameron's murder, she would never trust Aaron O'Grady again.

“Get out of here,” she ordered through clenched teeth as she moved so that Luke's senseless form was behind her. She doubted if she could do much to protect either of them if Aaron called her bluff, but she must try. When Luke shifted, she did not dare to look back.

“C'mon, darlin',” O'Grady crooned. “Put down the gun. You know you can't hit anything with it.”

“You're right,” she retorted. “I'm not that good a shot, but I have a loaded gun aimed at your middle. If I hit you in the gut or just geld you, will it matter?”

O'Grady stepped forward. She tightened her finger on the trigger. The click of the hammer was as loud as an avalanche. He stopped.

“Get out of here!” she repeated. “Get out of here, or I might just remember that incident a year ago last spring.”

“Mac promised never to reveal that to anyone,” O'Grady gasped, suddenly sounding sober.

“I'm not Mac!” she retorted. “How would you like to see the truth of that night displayed across the front page of the next edition of the
Bugle
?”

“You wouldn't dare!”

“I wouldn't?”

O'Grady stared at her, but she kept the gun steady. She could not back down now. If she did, she and Luke and the
Bugle
and everything else she cared about would be destroyed.

Cursing, he snapped an order. As one, his men staggered back to their horses.

Mackenzie did not move as she watched them mount. Not only because she wanted to be sure he did not double-cross her, but because her body was stiff with terror. When fingers covered hers, she watched as Luke took the gun from her. Closing her eyes, she sagged against him.

“Don't faint,” he whispered. She was unsure whether the pulse pounding in her ears or Luke's bruised lips distorted the words.

“I have every right to faint,” she argued, her voice as weak as her knees.

“Not now. If you'd been going to swoon like an Eastern flower, you should have done it when O'Grady proposed to you.”

“You heard that? I thought that you were senseless.”

He chuckled, but the sound faded into a curse. “I was beginning to come around about then. Sweetheart, I wouldn't have let you go with him while there was breath in this body.” Putting an arm around her shoulders, he whispered, “Shall we go home?”

“Yes.”

He laughed lowly as he turned her to face him. Tantalizing her lips into his possession, he whispered, “I've never had a woman threaten to shoot another man to save me. You're a she-wolf. Is it just anger that brings out these emotions, or could something far more pleasant arouse you?”

“Luke, I …” Her voice drifted into a sigh as he tasted the curve of her ear. “Take me home.”

“And to bed?”

“And to bed,” she whispered.

When he scooped her into his arms, she gasped. His eyes glittered as he smiled at her astonishment. “I may be a bit battered, but not so much that I don't want to tame you tonight, she-wolf.”

“I fight dirty,” she retorted, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I know that already, but soon I'll have you purring with pleasure, sweetheart.”

Closing her eyes, she begged, “Hold me all night, Luke.”

“All night and forever in my dreams.”

FIFTEEN

The approaching thunderstorm pushed a cool breath ahead of it. Leaving the windows open for as long as possible before the rain whipped through, Mackenzie scooped up the dirty clothes Douglas had dropped from his loft.

Behind schedule. That was what she had been all day, but she did not care. After Luke had printed up the paper and delivered it, she had joined him in watching Douglas's team play ball on the field the boys had built themselves. When Douglas's team won, she congratulated Luke as the boys cheered their coach. She was not sure what that title meant, but could tell he was pleased.

A slow smile spread along her lips. The walls should have burst from joy in this house. She was glad her son was accepting Luke as the friend he had needed almost as much as she had needed Luke to love her.

At the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs, she turned. Luke raced into the room, grabbed her, and spun her about. Pressing his lips over hers, he lowered her to the floor.

“Look at this.” He handed her a slip of paper. A telegram, she knew, when she saw Zared's scrawl filled the page.

Excellent series
/
Will wire ticket for train for July 17
/
Stop Chicago, Cleveland, Buffalo, Utica
/
Arrive Albany on 21
/
Expect you in on Wednesday 22
/
Start new assignment. Associate Editor News Room
/
Congratulations on job well done
/

It was signed Carter Sanders, editor
The Albany Independent
.

Giving Luke the page, she whispered, “That's wonderful. Congratulations on your promotion. You've worked hard for it.”

“Yes, I have.” He grinned. “I have you to thank.”

“Me?”

“Didn't Carter love what you wrote when I was banged up?” He folded the letter and put it in his shirt pocket. “I never told you, but I borrowed your style to do the rest of this assignment. Carter told me I could learn a lot from Mackenzie Smith.”

“He meant my father.”

“I know that, but, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be getting this promotion.”

“I'm glad I could help.”

“But?”

“But nothing.”

He enfolded her hands between his. “Mackenzie, don't lie to me.”

“That's the truth.” Pulling away, she stared about the room. The joy had vanished. She took a deep breath. “Luke, I have some work to do downstairs. Will you get the new shipment of newsprint from the station?”

She did not wait for his reply. If she had stayed, she could not have hidden her pain.

When he had left, the print shop became an accusation Mackenzie longed to escape. Each empty corner demanded that she stop wasting the few hours she had remaining with Luke. He would be leaving in a week.

She picked up today's
Bugle
from the stack left over from the ones Douglas had taken to the mercantile that morning. Maybe reading would help her forget … for a moment. Her steps were heavy as she climbed the stairs. Everything in the rooms upstairs offered sweet memories of Luke's arms around her, of his kisses stealing her senses as she answered his passion with her own. But that was coming to an end.

Putting the kettle on the stove, she opened the paper to the second page. Her brow furrowed with bafflement as she looked for her editorial. Where had Luke put it? Searching both inner pages, she could not find it. Where the editorial should have been was the article she had written about statehood for the front page. If that article was where her editorial normally was, then …

In disbelief, she gasped. When she read the headline, she dropped to the bench. Her knees no longer would support her.

HAS RIMROCKING SHEEP

BECOME THE LATEST SPORT ON THE RANGE
?

“How could you?” she whispered. “I thought you knew the danger.”

She bent over to read the article. In it was everything she had said they must not print. That the facts were presented without inflammatory fervor made them the more damning.

“Oh, no,” she moaned when she read Connolly's name as well as Krafft's.

How could Luke betray her again? He had promised to do nothing to lose her trust, but he had broken that promise with this. Crumpling up the paper, she stuffed it into the stove. She wished she could do the same with the other copies, but it was too late.

Hurrying into her bedroom, she reached for Luke's suitcase. Tossing it onto the bed she swept his extra clothes off the pegs on the wall and threw them next to the bag. She reached under the bed for his shoes. A sob escaped from her lips as she drew out a sock which had been lost during their eager lovemaking last night. She had dared to open her heart to him, but he saw her only as a way to advance his career. He had even boasted of stealing her writing style.

“What are you doing?”

Mackenzie turned to see Luke in the doorway. His astonishment tugged at her heart, but she could not forgive him. “What I should have done the day you arrived. Thrown you out into the street! I thought I could trust you.”

“You can, Mackenzie.”

She shoved the suitcase into his hands. “No, I can't. Not after what you put in my newspaper.”

Sitting on the bed, he grabbed her hand. “I wanted to explain. I tried. You didn't give me a chance.”

“I don't care why you wrote that article. I told you I wouldn't have that in the
Bugle
. You ignored me. I am the editor, remember?”

“I've never forgotten that, but—”

“No!” she cried, ripping her hand out of his. “Don't you understand? I don't care why you did it.”

“The truth needs to be printed. If you and Roosevelt are too scared—”

“You're right I'm scared!” She pointed to the door. “Get out! I can't fight for change in Bentonville when I have a serpent hissing at my feet.”

“Change?” He surged to his feet. Throwing the bag onto the bed, he grasped her shoulders. “Mackenzie, you don't want change! You want to keep everything exactly as it is.” His hands tightened on her arms as she tried to pull away. “No, you're going to listen. I know you're scared. Break the power of Connolly, Rutherford, and O'Grady, and Bentonville dies. If the town dies, so does the newspaper.”