Devils on Horseback: Zeke, Book 3 (3 page)

Zeke had no idea why he was even thinking about her. She was too skinny, her tits were too small and for sure, her mouth was a detriment. Woman looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks and that dress was picked from the rag bag at the church.

So, what was it about her that grabbed his interest? He didn’t need or want a woman in his life, especially not one who aggravated him with one sentence. The last few days had been hard enough to get used to being the sheriff, get the jail together and keep his hands off the damn whiskey. A woman would foul everything up even worse.

“Zeke, you’re not listening to me.” Lucy pinched his arm. “A lady doesn’t like to be ignored while she’s with a gentleman.”

She knew she wasn’t a lady and he sure as hell wasn’t a gentleman, but he didn’t correct her. Lucy was a true friend and that’s all that mattered.

“Don’t pester me, Lucy.” Zeke tugged his hat lower on his forehead. “I ain’t in the mood.”

“That little blonde got your tail in a twist?” Lucy was too keen by half. “She reminds you of Allison, don’t she?”

A surge of anger and hurt ripped through him. “I’m done talking.” Zeke pulled his arm out of hers. “You want to have dinner with me, you’d best stop now.”

“No need to get all sore with me.” She pouted, tugging at his sleeve. “She told me she don’t work on her back anyway.”

The admission shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. Naomi worked in a saloon, and many girls who did worked as whores too. It didn’t matter one way or the other since he’d been ordered to stay away from the saloon and its women, which included Naomi. “It’s no never mind to me as long as she stays out of my way.” Zeke would be sure to stay out of hers.

He ate dinner mechanically, without even tasting the meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It wasn’t until he has halfway through the meal he realized it was good. Actually it was more than good, it was delicious. He stopped in mid-chew and looked up at a smirking Lee in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Told ya Margaret would be perfect.” He nodded in greeting at Lucy. “What do you think?”

Zeke swallowed the meatloaf. “I haven’t had food this good in years, since before—”

Lee’s eyes clouded with the same grief that slid through Zeke. “Yeah, before.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago they’d sat at the dinner table at Blackwood Plantation back in Georgia and enjoyed long dinners with their family. Zeke hadn’t allowed himself to think of all they’d had, all they’d lost, very often. He closed his eyes for a second to beat back the dark feelings before they could grab hold of him.

“Margaret settling in to stay then?” Lucy popped a bite of mashed potatoes in her mouth.

Lee nodded. “Gabby brought her over and although she’s quiet as a grave, the woman can cook like an angel.”

“Amen to that.” Zeke tried the green beans. “Damn, even these are good and I normally don’t like ’em.” He waved his fork at the kitchen. “She making desserts too?”

His brother simply raised his eyebrows. “Finish your dinner and you’ll find out.”

Zeke threw a green bean at Lee, but he sidestepped it and went back into the kitchen.

“You know, I always thought your brother was just a mean bastard,” Lucy mused.

“That’s not very nice.” Zeke felt his earlier annoyance at her returning. “You don’t know what we’ve done, or been through. Don’t judge him.”

“And you don’t know what I’ve been through.” Lucy’s eyes hardened.

“Are we gonna fight now?” Zeke frowned at the sudden hostility between them.

Lucy sighed. “No, I think I just got my back up at the way you looked at Naomi.”

Zeke didn’t know what to make of that. Was Lucy jealous? It wasn’t as if he’d ever made any promises to her aside from the ones he’d made to pay his tab at the saloon. They’d never even been intimate, at least not that he remembered anyway.

“You ain’t got a reason to get your back up. You and I are friends and that’s all it’ll ever be.” Zeke used the last of his meatloaf to clean up the mashed potatoes. Lucy stayed silent, moving her food around her plate. He screwed up his courage to tell her what needed telling. “I don’t know if you heard or not, but I’m the new sheriff in Tanger.” Her eyebrows flew toward her hairline, but he held up his hand to stop her from speaking. “I got thirty days to prove I can do the job before it’s permanent. And part of the town council’s requirements include no drinking, no whoring, no saloon at all.”

It took a moment for it to sink in, then she swallowed hard. “You can’t come by to see me, and we can’t have meals together either, can we?”

He shook his head, uncomfortable with her distress. It’s not like he was leaving town or wouldn’t ever speak to her again.

“I had hopes, Zeke, you must know that.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes, a sheen of tears in her eyes.

Zeke couldn’t have been more shocked. Lucy had hopes about him? She’d never said anything or even hinted about it. Granted, she’d held a bucket under him while he’d puked, but that wasn’t exactly a marriage proposal. Jesus, he didn’t know what to say.

Fortunately Lee saved him the indignity of looking like an ass.

“She made pie, Zeke.” He sounded like a kid at Christmas. “Lookee here.” He set a plate with a beautiful slice of peach pie on the table. “I already had three pieces. Zeke, you ain’t never had something so sweet before.”

His appetite for dessert had fled with Lucy’s distress and her admission. He didn’t want to disappoint Lee, so he took the plate.

“Looks mighty tasty.” He shoveled a forkful into his mouth and the explosion of sweetness almost made him want dessert. “It’s wonderful.”

He pushed back his chair and nodded to Lucy. “I’m gonna go say howdy to Margaret and let her know how good dinner was. Be right back.”

Before Lucy could say anything, Zeke walked into the kitchen, relieved to be away from her for at least a few minutes. Lucy was a good friend, but she could be too much at times. Margaret Summers stood at the huge stove—they’d had to order it special for the restaurant—with four pots and pans cooking at once. Her light brown hair was in a bun at the nape of her neck and her dark eyes watched him warily. He took off his hat and held it before him.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Summers. I had to come in and let you know that dinner was right wonderful. Best I’ve had in five years. Gideon and Lee did right by hiring you.” Fortunately, Zeke didn’t have to eat Gideon’s cooking anymore either.

Margaret brushed a stray hair off her cheek. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Zeke, please. You’re part of the family now. I think it’d be all right if you called me Zeke.” He smiled, trying to make her feel more comfortable.

She wiped her hands down the white apron that emphasized the curves she’d been blessed with. If Margaret stopped hiding in dark corners, she’d likely catch herself a new husband.

“Then please call me Margaret.” She offered a tremulous smile.

“I will do that, Margaret. Thank you for a great meal.” He slid his hat back on his head. “We really do appreciate you taking this job on. The three of us, well, we’re as stupid as a bag of doorknobs about cooking and such. And now that I’m going to be the sheriff, well, we needed you more than ever. So thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary, Mr. Bla—I mean Zeke. I was needing a change and a steady income anyway. It’s been some time since I lost Ben.” Her eyes clouded with grief, which was Zeke’s queue to skedaddle. He didn’t think he could handle anyone else’s grief besides his own.

“You let me know if you need anything.” With that, Zeke quit the kitchen and went back into the dining area.

Lee sat in the corner alone, surveying the four tables that had customers eating dinner, pointedly ignoring Lucy. The two of them had never gotten along and all during Zeke’s drunk phase, the hostility had only grown.

Lucy smiled like a sunrise when she saw him, and that’s when the truth hit Zeke square between the eyes. She was in love with him. Damn, how had that happened? He’d never so much as kissed her hand.

Zeke didn’t know what to do about Lucy—women were not his specialty. He sat down heavily and shoveled in the remaining pie. Might as well at least fill his belly if he had to deal with females all day.

* * * * *

The next day dawned cloudy and a little cool. Zeke gulped the last of his coffee, still amazed at how clearheaded he felt in the mornings when he hadn’t been drinking the night before. With a salute to Gideon, he left the restaurant and headed down the street.

The town council asked him to walk the streets during the day, and several times in the evening. He’d been doing just that, and actually enjoying it, which was a surprise. Folks were a bit suspicious the first day he’d walked through with the badge on his vest, then they began to warm up to him.

This was his third morning as sheriff as he made the rounds through town. Aphrodite’s was quiet, as it usually was in the mornings, yet coming out the door was the blonde, Naomi.

She was dressed in a plain green frock, with no lace or anything frilly on it. In fact, it looked like a work dress. She held a sheet-wrapped bundle in her hands. Stopping dead in her tracks, she looked at him with surprise clearly written on her face.

“Mr. Blackwood.” Her gaze dropped to the badge. “Or should I say Sheriff Blackwood.”

He tipped his hat, recognizing too late his pulse had sped up at the sight of her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, with large doe eyes and lashes that could probably double as dusters.

“Either one is fine, ma’am. You see I’m still trying out the badge for size. The town council was looking for a lawman, and, well, I’m an ex-soldier so they thought I might be a good choice. Anyway, reckon it’ll be another month before it’s official.” He almost babbled at her for Chrissakes. “You headed out for a walk?”

She nodded. “Lucy told me there’s a lake just outside town. I thought I’d do my laundry and perhaps go for a swim.”

The thought of her wet and maybe even naked sent a shiver up his spine. His body reacted, even though he told it not to, and he shifted to ease the discomfort of a sudden burst of blood to his dick.

“Would you like an escort?”

She looked as surprised as he felt by the invitation.

“I mean, there’s lots of men who would take advantage of a female alone. So, I could, ah, protect you.” Zeke had never felt like such a complete idiot before. Why didn’t his tongue work right?

“That’s very kind of you, Sheriff. I expect you’re right about strangers, but I carry a small pistol with me at all times. Thank you for the offer.” She tied on a straw bonnet with daisies and did a little curtsey before she walked away.

A curtsey?

What the hell was that? Zeke remembered the last time he’d seen any woman curtsey and it was before the war, before the death and destruction. It was during the last dance at Blackwood Plantation, when hearts were light and the booze was plentiful. Miss Naomi just put herself into his memories with her little curtsey.

He only hoped he could dislodge her, or she might take up residence in his mind permanently. And there was no way in hell he wanted that to happen.

After watching Naomi walk away, Zeke pulled his head out of his ass and continued his rounds. The town council had informed him a new bank was opening finally. It’d been almost a year since the last banker, the ex-mayor Phineas Wolcott, had pulled up stakes and left town. Tanger’s residents were wary of anyone handling their money, with good reason, so it was up to Zeke to do some reconnaissance and find out what he could about the owner.

The door to the bank stood open, although even if it hadn’t been, he probably would’ve walked in anyway. Zeke stepped inside and noted a dark-haired man standing behind the teller station. In a split second, he knew the stranger had been a soldier—the damned knew one of their own when they saw one.

“Morning.” Zeke pushed up the brim of his hat as he walked towards the man. “I’m Sheriff Zeke Blackwood.”

The stranger stepped around the side of the teller station with a hitch in his gait and Zeke noted the black cane with the silver handle. A wounded soldier for certain.

“Good morning, Sheriff, I’m Richard Newman.” He held out his hand and Zeke shook it, pleased to note calluses. An ex-soldier turned banker was a welcome surprise.

“Pleased to meet you.” Zeke gestured with his arm. “You fixing to open up shop soon?”

“That I am.” Richard walked back around the teller station. “I’m trying to make sense of the mess left behind by the former, ah, owner of the bank. Apparently when he left, there were a number of papers left in a jumble, including the deed to this property.” He peered at a piece of paper. “Owned by a Veronica Marchison and leased to a Phineas Wolcott.”

“Veronica owned the building?” That was certainly news to Zeke. The cold-hearted bitch had done her best to destroy Tanger, including selling its residents as slaves to Mexican whorehouses. She deserved more than the bullets that killed her and he hoped she was currently rotting in the darkest pit of hell.

“Apparently so. I understand she’s deceased?” The man had a lilt to his speech, but Zeke couldn’t pin down what kind.

“Oh she’s dead for certain. Too bad I wasn’t the one to kill her.” The snarl was unexpectedly harsh and made Richard start a bit.

“Not a popular woman in town then?”

“You could say that. Her husband owns the general store right next to this building. He’s the man to talk to if you’ve a question.” Zeke reined back the fury currently spinning around his guts. No need to scare the new banker in town with the horrors of what occurred the year before.

“I’ll do that.” He set down the paper and regarded Zeke with a thoughtful stare. “Confederate Army?”

“Yes, sir.” Zeke tapped his forehead with two fingers in a small salute. “You too?”

Richard nodded. “Yes, Colonel of the Third Virginia Infantry.”

A myriad of images rushed through Zeke’s head, memories and nightmares mixed together. He saw the same reflected in the banker’s eyes. He’d been right—Richard was a fellow veteran, a man who’d traveled to the worst place on Earth and survived.

“Welcome to Tanger, Richard.” Zeke felt a weight lift off his shoulders. The new banker would be good for the town.