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Authors: Lori Handeland

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BOOK: Reese
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He took a deep pull of thick swill and choked. When he stopped gagging, Reese glared at the others. "Who let the Kid near the coffee beans?"

"Not me!" four voices chimed.

Rico took a draft from his cup. "This is Texas coffee,
Capitan.
It will make a man out of you."

"I've been a man for a long, long while now and never needed to chew coffee beans to prove it." Reese picked up the coffeepot and hurled the remains out the back door.

As he went about making a fresh pot, Reese considered telling the men Mary's idea of arming the female populace. The more he'd mulled over her reasoning, the more it had made sense. But was it truly feasible? Or was he suffering the effects of too little sleep and too much lust.

Only one way to find out.

Reese put the pot on to boil and joined the others at the table. "I had an idea last night," he ventured. If he told them the concept had been Mary's, not only would they reject it; they'd probably start sneering about his being led around by his—

"A way to protect the town with less killing."

"Since when did killing bother you?" Cash asked.

Killing had always bothered Reese, and he hoped it always would. If he ever crossed the line into not caring whom he killed or how many, he prayed his days would soon be numbered. But he kept that opinion to himself, considering whom he was talking to.

"I was just thinking—"

"You think too much, Reese." Nate appeared hungover. Big surprise. "You always did. It's a bad habit to get into."

"Someone has to think in this crew."

They nodded and went silent, still too tired to question much, which was why Reese had decided to talk to them this morning. "There are quite a few people in Rock Creek."

"Quite a few women," Rico put in.

"Exactly. Widows, daughters—"

"Schoolteachers." Cash winked.

Reese ignored him. "The only two able-bodied men I've seen are Clancy and Sutton."

"A preacher and a coward," Jed observed.

Reese acknowledged the obvious with a lift of his brow before continuing. "A few old men and a few who were hurt in the war, though not so badly they can't wield a gun from a defensive position."

Cash gave an irritated sigh. "Get to the point."

"What if we show these people how to use guns, how to dig in and fight back? We'd be helping them more than if we just killed El Diablo and his men. There's always another bandito down the road. For once wouldn't it be good to build something rather than destroy it?"

"What I'd like to know," Cash drawled, "is when you became a missionary?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When did you decide our purpose was to help people? I thought we came here to kill the bad guys, take our money, and leave."

"But wouldn't it be better—"

"Better, my butt. I'm in this for the money."

Sullivan snorted, the first noise he'd made since Reese came into the room. "You'd better not let it get around how cheap Daniel Cash hires out his gun or we'll have more jobs than we know what to do with."

Cash narrowed his eyes. "Watch your mouth, breed."

"Hombres,
calm yourselves. We know why we came.
El capitan
called. That was what we agreed to all those years ago. We are six who become one. If one calls, the others answer. The money does not matter. What matters is loyalty and honor."

"Speak for yourself, Kid."

"I think Reese might be on to somethin' here." Jed ignored the bickering as if it had never happened. "I'm all for not gettin' killed. And if we can convince El Diablo that he'd be wise to leave Texas—or at least our little corner—I say we try it."

"I say givin' women guns is askin' for trouble," Cash insisted. "Although El Diablo might die laughing when he sees all those skirts flappin'."

Reese poured himself some coffee. "As long as he dies, that would be fine with me. What do the rest of you think?"

No one said a word. Cash swore. "They'll do whatever you think is best, Reese. Just don't ask me to help. I've got better things to do than waste my time with good women."

"Drink and gamble?"

"What else is there?"

Nate poured whiskey into his coffee. "I have to agree."

Reese rubbed his forehead. He'd won the battle, but with these guys, the war just kept on raging.

* * *

Amid a lesson on the Spanish Inquisition, Mary felt as if she were being watched. Not an uncommon occurrence, considering her profession, but when she discovered Rico lounging in the doorway, she gasped and put a hand to her pounding heart.

The children turned, and Mary hoped she hadn't frightened them. Considering what had been going on in Rock Creek, they had been bearing up remarkably well, but children always did.

"I didn't hear you come in, Mr..." Mary frowned. "Is Rico your first name or your last?"

Rico grinned. "You are not supposed to hear me. That is my job, and unlike some men, I do have two names. I am Rico Salvatore, but please continue to call me Rico."

He removed his hat, and his short ebony hair shone in the late-morning sunshine that sparkled through the open doorway behind him. He had charm to spare, but Mary was no fool.

Men like Rico charmed everyone they met. It didn't mean anything. They just couldn't help themselves. Reese, on the other hand, charmed no one.

So why did he charm her?

"The children must call you Mr. Salvatore," Mary insisted.

"Do they call Reese, Mr. Reese?"

Mary frowned. The issue had not come up, but she did remember once when she'd called him Mr. Reese he'd looked as though she'd struck him across the face with her glove.

Rico nodded. "That's what I thought. Mr. Salvatore is my father's name. The children may call me that if they like, but sometimes I may forget to answer them."

"As you wish. Is there something you wanted?"

He put his hat back on his head. "Reese sent me with a message."

Mary's smile faltered. He had sent Rico to speak with her instead of coming himself. Perhaps he planned to pull out of town and leave Rock Creek to die in order to avoid her.

Mary blushed, and when Rico's lips curved at the sight, she glanced away.

She only knew of his approach because the children shifted and mumbled; she did not hear his feet on the plank floor at all. The man might be charming, but he was still a bit spooky.

She raised her head. Rico was a flirt, but he was not wicked, and despite his frivolous air, he understood feelings. She liked him, even though she shouldn't. He lowered his voice so the children would not hear. "He wishes to teach the women to shoot."

She smiled. "He took my advice?"

"Your advice?" Rico chuckled.
"El capitan
said it was his idea when he spoke with the others, and perhaps it is best if you let them continue to believe that." He shrugged. "They are rough men who sometimes need a certain
convincing
to change their ways."

Mary hated to lie or even omit the truth, but if Reese thought it best, and Rico did too, she could hold her tongue. She would do whatever she must to make certain Rock Creek survived.

"
He would like the women to meet outside the hotel just after dawn tomorrow. Can you arrange this for him?"

"Certainly."

"Gracias, senorita.
"He tipped his hat and bowed.

A giggle erupted from the first-year seats. Rico spun. Carrie clapped her hands over her mouth as if to stop the laughter from bursting free again. Her eyes were huge above her tiny fingertips.

Rico bowed to her as well. "And you,
senorita
, the sound of your laughter is like the water gurgling in springtime."

Carrie's hands dropped from her mouth. "Thank you," she whispered.

Frank and Jack rolled their eyes and groaned. Mary glared, and they stopped, an improvement over yesterday. She had to hide her own reaction as Rico strolled from the room and Carrie watched him go, her eyes bright with fascination.

Mary spent the rest of the day with only half her attention on the lessons, the other half occupied with listing the women she must speak with that afternoon and evening. And, in a tiny corner of her mind, nagged a question: Was Reese avoiding her? And if so, how would she make him stop?

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

Mary didn't see Reese the entire day. Since she ran from one end of town to the next, speaking with every widow, daughter, and mother she could find over sixteen years of age, she concluded he
was
avoiding her.

Come dawn, Reese would be unable to avoid her any longer. Though with over a dozen women present, as well as his men, perhaps it would be easier to elude her than ever before.

As Mary made her rounds, she was both excited and anxious. If her idea worked, Rock Creek would not be subject to the whim of every band of outlaws and cutthroats that drifted through this part of Texas.

The people could make El Diablo leave by a show of force instead of hired murder, and they could continue to keep their homes safe. She wished she'd thought of this before hiring Reese and his friends. Then again there would have been no one to teach them of weapons and killing if not for those same men.

Along with her excitement over the possibilities came anxiety over the decided lack of enthusiasm from the Rock Creek women. They nodded and smiled when Mary made her speech, then noted the place and time and wished her good day. She left every house feeling as if she'd done something slightly scandalous.

Only Jo expressed unbounded zeal when Mary came to call, and
she
would have to sneak out of the house to take part in the operation.

Reverend Clancy would preach Hellfire when he found out. And he would find out sooner or later. Mary was hoping for later.

With the lukewarm response of the majority, Mary should not have been surprised to receive one vehement protest in the form of Baxter Sutton. She and Rose were talking at the front of the store when Baxter butted in.

"No wife of mine is going near those men." Rose blanched at the sound of her husband's voice and moved away as if Mary had the plague. "I never asked you to bring them here in the first place, Miss McKendrick."

"You're angry because they pulled guns on you, and you have every right to be."

"They're a disgrace—thieves and murderers you've brought amid decent folk—and they should be run out of town."

Mary had been willing to give Sutton a few inches, but as usual, he took the whole mile. "Need I remind you that without them we'd all have been run out of town?"

He sniffed
.
"That remained to be seen. You never give things a chance to work themselves out. Even with the twins. You never gave them a chance."

"To set fire to the schoolhouse?" Mary murmured.

"That's just what I mean. They weren't going to burn it They were just playing."

"With fire and whitewashed boards?"

Sutton waved away the details. "At the first sign of trouble, you plow ahead, run roughshod over everyone. It's little wonder you've never married. At first I thought it was because you're so plain, but in the dark plain doesn't matter."

"Baxter!" Rose gasped, but when he scowled at her, she grew quiet, and she stopped looking at Mary altogether.

"You can overlook a plain face, but a woman who can't shut up, who won't stop tellin' a man what to do, that's another matter entirely. That doesn't go away when the lights go out. So like I said, I can see why you're a spinster."

Mary tightened her lips to keep hateful words from tumbling forth. As Sister Hortensia always said, "Two wrongs do not make a right." Being mean to Baxter would not miraculously turn him into a decent human being. Otherwise she'd have done it a long time ago.

Mary took a deep, calming breath, then another and another until the desire to kick Baxter Sutton in his skinny shins went away. "My state of matrimony, or lack of it, is not the issue. The issue is life and death. I can't understand why you wouldn't want Rose to be able to protect herself."

"She doesn't need to protect herself. She's got me."

Pointing out that Sutton was so terrified of El Diablo that he'd never once ventured outside when the bandit rode into Rock Creek was probably not the best course of action, no matter how vindicating such a reprisal might be.

"If you don't want Rose to come, then why don't you?"

"Me?" He blinked at her bug-eyed. "Me? I know how to use a gun! Do you think I don't know how to use a gun? Just because I don't walk down the street with a weapon in my hands doesn't mean I don't know how to use one. You know what they say about fellows with big guns, don't you?"

Mary opened her mouth, then shut it, stumped. Sutton snickered. "That's what I thought."

Sister Hortensia forgive her, but she'd had enough. "At least Reese and his men have grit."

His beady eyes narrowed. "If it takes grit to kill someone, then I'd rather be without it, thank you."

"You're without a spine, that's for sure."

He went red, started sputtering, and pointed at the door, so before he could throw her out bodily, Mary went. She really should learn to keep her mouth shut and her opinions to herself, but sometimes that was just too much to ask.

BOOK: Reese
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