Wildfire in His Arms (20 page)

Stepping out of the tub, she frowned when she realized she was going to have to put on the same pants she'd worn yesterday, but at least she had a clean shirt thanks to Degan. When she donned it, she found that it fit too snugly, which wouldn't do at all. No, it would have to do. She'd just fasten her vest today instead of leaving it open as she usually did.

She needed more clothes, obviously, or less time in hotels and more time in a camp by a lake or river so she could wash what she had. Traveling with someone who would be doing all the leading wasn't going to give her time for the things she needed to do. But she couldn't afford more clothes. Anytime she got money in her trades, she spent it on more ammunition. Besides, she wouldn't be making any money while she was with Degan because he wouldn't let her hunt.

She was still drying her hair when Degan reentered the room and headed straight for the tub. He hadn't relocked the door. She thought that was curious until she saw him place his gun on the towel stand within reach of the tub. So she was back to guessing if he would really shoot her if she bolted while he was buck naked. He should have locked the door instead of tempting her like this!

She watched him as he undressed until he got to his pants. Her eyes widened when she realized he was going to drop them knowing full well she was still looking at him.

She turned away from him. “I should wait in the hall like you did.”

“No.”

“This isn't appropriate.”

“Nothing about you is appropriate. Sit down. Turn around. Pretend I'm not naked.”

Her cheeks lit up.
Was
he naked now? Or was he at least sitting in the tub so she could look his way again? She didn't chance it. Instinctively, she knew the sight of him would be branded in her mind forever. She'd seen naked men before, such as the miners she'd encountered at rivers or lakes who had thought nothing about dropping their clothes and walking into the water with other men around. Of course they hadn't realized she was a female. She hadn't been embarrassed then. But she wasn't even looking at Degan now and her cheeks were hot with a blush. It just wasn't the same when it was a man this handsome—when she
wanted
to look!

She looked everywhere but toward his corner, yet she was so flustered that he was undressing behind her that she inadvertently turned and caught a glimpse of him as he added his pants to the pile of clothes behind him. She lost her breath. The sight of his broad, muscular back and firm thighs, and such tight buttocks, brought a wave of heat to her body. For a heartbeat she actually started to put her hand out, wanting to touch him, but she squeezed her eyes shut and turned away. She did
not
just see that big, beautiful body of his naked. She had to repeat that to herself several times. But she didn't let out her breath until she heard the water splash, telling her the tub was hiding at least some of him now.

She still wouldn't look again. But taking deep breaths as she kept her eyes on the other side of the room eventually brought back a semblance of calm. He wouldn't need to shave when he was done bathing. Apparently, he'd done that before he went out while she'd been asleep. She felt slightly relieved, knowing that he'd get dressed as soon as he got out of the tub and not stand there half-naked while he shaved.

“Are we going to hole up here till Jacob Reed leaves town? Or long enough for me to wash my clothes?”

“No.”

“But he's out there looking for you right now. You did notice that, right?”

“Yes.”

“If he's got any sense a'tall, he'll check the hotels for you next.”

“I don't sign registers. And I've already warned the staff to forget they saw me.”

“It's big news that you're in town. Do you really think they won't brag that you're staying at their hotel?”

“People don't usually cross me.”

She could believe that. Chattering was helping her ignore that he was naked, so she kept it up. “I still need a day to wash my clothes. What's the point of bathing if I have to wear dirty clothes? Any body of water will do if we're not staying here.”

“You can turn around now, Max.”

She glanced over her shoulder cautiously, then turned. His wet hair was slicked back, but he was dressed again, and his gun was back on his hip where it usually was. It occurred to her that he needed to have his clothes washed, too. His valise might be a nice size, but she'd looked inside it and knew it wasn't stuffed to the brim with clothes.

His gray eyes swept over her before he said, “We need to find a dress for you that you can wear before we enter a town.”

She snorted. “I don't think so. I can't wear one on the trail, so what's the point?”

“I said before we enter a town.”

She shook her head at him. “Too much trouble, and you still didn't say why.”

“To keep you from getting arrested or shot by some bounty hunter.”

“I can keep my head down like I always do. No one's gonna recognize me.”

“This is my decision, not yours.”

She gave him a mulish look. “It ain't your decision if I won't put it on.”

“I might find it interesting to do it for you.”

She gasped. “You wouldn't!”

“You were hoping things would get interesting, or is my getting shot the only thing you find interesting?”

He
would
dress her. Because he was still mad at her for implying last night that she'd like to see him in action. Or maybe not. Had that been humor in his tone?

He put his hat on. “Let's go.”

She gritted her teeth over those same two annoying words of his. “Can you at least add a little something to that? Like, ‘Let's go to the train station'? Or, ‘Let's go back to Helena'? Or, ‘Let's go have breakfast'? Anything that might indicate where we're going?”

“Does it really matter where we're going?”

She raised her chin. “It does when I'm hungry.”

“Do you really think I won't feed you?”

That tiny note of humor was there again, just the slightest indication in his tone, and this time she was sure. She gave up, well aware that he'd still managed not to say where they were going.

“T
HERE ARE A NUMBER
of towns between here and Billings. We can pause long enough in one to find a laundress.”

Max wasn't surprised to hear Degan finally volunteer that information. They were eating, which was the one time he didn't mind talking.

The hotel restaurant was a little more than half-filled with other guests or townsfolk. Only two tables had emptied when Degan entered the room. Max was delighted to find a variety of choices for the morning meal. She would have liked to try one of everything if she thought she could eat it all. She settled on sausage, eggs, and half a steak.

“Why Billings?” she asked.

“We'll be catching the train there.”

“I thought you didn't like riding them.”

“I don't when I'm not on a time schedule. Right now there's someplace I need to go, and the Northern Pacific could get robbed while we're on it. It will save me having to search all over Dakota for where Nolan is holed up.”

It was beginning to sound as if she was going to be in his company for a long time. It could take more than a week just to get to Billings. But after he got Nolan, if he got Nolan, he'd have arrested two outlaws and would have to decide if she was going to be the third. So she should probably be glad they were going on a long trip. Lots more chances for her to slip away.

“Oh, hell no,” Degan suddenly snarled under his breath.

Max was startled to hear some real anger in his voice, even if his expression didn't show a bit of it. At least his ire wasn't directed at her this time. She glanced over her shoulder to see what he was looking at.
Her
again? The pretty, dark-haired woman was dressed just as fancy as she'd been in Helena. But today her dress, jacket, and hat were three different shades of blue. Her adorable little hat had no useful brim that would shade her from the sun. It was purely decorative. Max didn't doubt that every woman in the dining room envied the young woman and wished she could wear something that frivolous and pretty. Max sighed to herself.

The young woman approached their table and sat down. Getting a better look at her, Max realized she wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful. And utterly brazen to sit down at their table without an invitation.

“How far are you going to make me chase you, Degan?” she asked petulantly.

“I'm not making you do anything, Allison. And I warned you, I have nothing to say to you.”

“I don't believe you.”

“I don't care.”

He stood up and nodded at Max to do the same. She gave her plate, only half-empty, a wistful glance, but got up quickly before he yanked her up.

“Degan, wait,” Allison said in frustrated tones as he started out of the room. “Your father—”

“Is alive. I've already confirmed it. So whatever game you're playing ends here.”

He didn't even stop as he said that, but the woman persisted. “A man doesn't have to be dead not to be who he was. He—”

Max couldn't hear the rest of what she was saying as they left the hotel. But the woman wasn't giving up. She followed him outside and yelled, “Degan Grant, come back here!”

He continued walking to the stable on the corner of the next block, while Max was trying to look behind them. Fancy lady looked fit to be tied. Max wasn't surprised. The lady was too pretty to be used to being ignored.

“Degan, stop!” she yelled again. “You
have
to hear me out!”

Max rolled her eyes. “If no one else knew you were in town, they all do now. Are you really going to let her continue shouting your name like that?”

He didn't reply, but the damage was already done. Max saw Jacob Reed step off the boardwalk up the street and start walking down the middle of the street toward Degan. He was still alone—or was he? He'd had four men with him when they'd seen him on the road to Butte yesterday. Max glanced around quickly but didn't see any of his friends now. Then she did. Reed must have found out where Degan was staying and set his men up for this ambush ahead of time. She
knew
those hotel employees wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut about such an infamous gunfighter staying in their hotel.

“There's a man on the roof up ahead with a rifle pointed at you,” she warned Degan. “This is an ambush.”

“I know. I've already spotted two others.”

“But that one is out of your range, while you're not out of his.”

“It might not matter if I kill Jacob first. This is his fight, not theirs.”

This really wasn't the time for him to sound so damn calm or to make guesses. And where was the fourth man? The street was already starting to clear. Two men walking toward each other like this was a dead giveaway of what was about to happen. And “might not” didn't work for her.

“Don't you think it would be better to take cover?”

“You are. Get back in the hotel and do it fast.”

She didn't need to be told twice and started running to the hotel. Fancy lady wasn't doing the same. She was
still
following Degan, holding her skirt up daintily just a few inches off the ground, keeping her eyes down to make sure she didn't step in manure. So she probably didn't know what was happening and might not guess until the first shots were fired.

“There's about to be gunfire,” Max warned as she passed her.

Max didn't wait to see if the woman turned around. And she didn't enter the hotel to hide. She went straight to the desk in the lobby and told the man there, “Give me any weapons you've got stashed.”

“We don't—”

“What you keep for protection. Lie to me and Mr. Grant will be in here shooting up the place in a few minutes.”

As threats went, that was a pretty good one. The man bent down and came up with a rifle in his hands. She took it and hid it under her coat, then went back outside to make her way quickly down the boardwalk.

As she passed Degan and Reed, who were within talking distance of each other now, she heard Degan saying, “I didn't kill you last time because you were grieving the loss of your brother. You've had enough time to deal with that grief.”

Jacob laughed. “Pretty confident for a man about to die, Grant.”

Max kept on going, didn't stop until she was within range of two of Reed's friends, who were squatting on the roofs of two buildings across the street. She knew that as soon as Degan drew his gun, he was going to get riddled with rifle shot. She wasn't going to wait for him to die to get a shot off. But she had begun to sweat. This wasn't like shooting at an animal for dinner. Animals didn't shoot back! But she had no choice. She didn't agree with Degan's thinking that the riflemen on the roof “might not” matter. There was no time to have qualms about shooting the men, but still she was too late.