Liz Ireland (5 page)

Paulie’s being in love seemed so unlikely! Yet why not? She had to be over twenty now.
But who?
Who could she have fallen for?

For a while he thought perhaps Paulie might have developed
a yen for Dwight Jones. That would have made sense. Though he’d been a widower for half a decade, Dwight was still fairly young, and his mercantile probably made a decent profit. He and Paulie were practically the only people in Possum Trot proper, too. Dwight was the shy, anxious type, though Lord knows, in that empty town and with his booming voice, the man could sit and sing love songs all day to Paulie across the street in the saloon without even having to leave his store.

But the more he thought about it, the less likely a love relationship developing between Paulie and Dwight seemed. Dwight was completely devoted to his wife’s memory. The woman had run his store and his life; Dwight still only stocked what his dear Pearl had approved during her tragically short lifetime. And he never stepped foot in Paulie’s place, because Pearl had been a devout temperance lady. That was the clincher. Given Dwight’s devotion to Pearl’s memory, he would never take up with a woman who not only sold liquor, but was not above taking a gulp or two of the stuff herself on occasion.

So that took care of Dwight.

For a brief moment, Will had even considered the possibility that Oat was the object of Paulie’s affection. She saw him often—or had when he’d been her whiskey man. From that angle, he could see a certain logic to her becoming dependent on Oat. And perhaps that’s why she had developed a closeness to Mary Ann, because she wanted to see more of Oat…

But just one look at the old fellow, slumped against a tree, with his mouth hanging open and snoring loudly, made Will dismiss this notion. One woman falling for Oat’s questionable charms was amazing in itself;
two
would be entirely incomprehensible.

Trouble was, there were so few people Paulie saw on a
regular basis, every possibility he winnowed out left the field exponentially smaller. He’d never heard her mention any of the other men who lived around the area. Furthermore, when he’d arrived at her saloon that morning, it seemed she had been expecting someone.

For a brief, crazy instant, he wondered if it could even be himself. But what were the chances that she’d known he would be coming home in time to gussy herself up for him? After all, she said she had been practicing doing her hair. And she hadn’t exactly welcomed him with open arms; not after the first moment, at least. She’d seemed almost angry with him at times. Not at all flirtatious, like all the other women who had even the slightest interest in him had behaved. Besides, he and Paulie were just old friends. Very good, old friends. That was how he was most comfortable thinking of her.

So who was it?

He glanced again at her, cracking wise with Trip by the fire, and the obvious hit him with the force of an avalanche.
Trip Peabody!

Of course. It made perfect sense! Trip had been one of her father’s cronies, and since her father’s illness had lived in the room behind the saloon. Paulie was financially independent, but she had probably turned to Trip for advice innumerable times. Trip wasn’t even too bad-looking…

But he was about twenty years older, and practically everybody south of the Red River knew Trip was in love with Tessie Hale.

Wasn’t he?

Will frowned, thinking about that very morning, finding both Paulie and Trip dressed up in stiff, unfamiliar clothes. A stiff dark suit…a wedding dress. Trip had been drunk. That was odd in itself. Then there was the eternal question of why Trip hadn’t ever actually asked Tessie to marry him.

Maybe Trip’s affections were more divided than he let on.

Will felt a twinge of sadness for them all if this was the case. But especially for Paulie. She deserved better than to be stuck in some unhappy love triangle, running around in her mother’s old dresses trying desperately to be something she wasn’t. He wondered whether Trip might even have taken advantage of her youth and innocence…

A flash of anger so sharp welled in him that he sucked in his breath. He pushed himself to standing and walked away from the group.

Paulie was in love with Trip. For some unfathomable reason, he didn’t want it to be true, but the idea made too much sense to ignore. The two of them enjoyed talking, laughing, and playing games—like they’d been doing this afternoon. They were always together, and they shared some of the same rough ways in dress and manner. Will had to concede that there was no better man on earth than Trip Peabody, and yet…

Paulie deserved better.

Damn. Maybe he was just unhappy with
all
the men women picked to pin their affections on these days. He had no call to care one way or the other who Paulie chose to fall in love with. He’d never even given the possibility a thought before now that she might even be of an age to fall in love. She’d always seemed like a tomboy to him. A figure of fun, good for a laugh or someone to talk to.

But the fact was, he
did
care who she fell in love with. Couldn’t imagine himself not caring.

“What are you doing out here?”

At the sound of a voice, Will nearly jumped out of his skin. He pivoted, tense, only to come face-to-face with Paulie herself, who stood blinking up at him.

“Did you hear something, Will?”

He swallowed, noticing for the first time how fetching her green eyes really were. He could well understand how Trip might fall for. Paulie. “No, why?”

She lifted her narrow shoulders in a shrug. “I saw you over here, pacing, then I came over, only to find you nervous as a cat. Is something wrong?”

Nothing except that he felt a fierce new protectiveness for the young woman standing in front of him. “Actually, I was thinking about you.”

Her eyes grew as round as saucers.. “Me?”

He nodded, trying to look at her closely in the darkness. Would she try to hide the truth about Trip from him? Or, more important, would she let him know if Trip was press ing his attentions on her unwanted? A young woman in her situation might feel indebted to the older man, might even allow herself to be coerced into something she wasn’t ready for. He hated even suspecting such a thing of Trip, but he felt he owed it to Paulie to find out the truth.

“At least you weren’t wasting your time,” she joked approvingly. “What, exactly, were you thinking about me?”

“Well…” He wasn’t sure how to start. “I guess I owe you an apology for what I said this afternoon, for assuming that you’ve never been in love.”

She looked down at her feet and dug her toe into the dirt. “Oh, that.”

“I guess I forget sometimes that you’re all grown up.”

Her head snapped up, and though it was dark he could have sworn that two bright red stains appeared in her cheeks. “Oh, shoot!” she cried, shaking her head. “About what I said this afternoon, Will—about being in love. I didn’t mean it, really.” She stopped, flustered. “Well, no, I
did
mean it, but, I mean…”

He kept his gaze locked with hers as her words sputtered
out like a dying fire. His heart went out to her, trying so hard to cover up now that the cat was out of the bag. “I know you have a secret, Sprout.”

Her cheeks grew redder. “You do?”

He nodded. “You don’t have to keep it from me anymore. In fact, you can tell me all about it, if it would help.”

She hesitated, looking extremely doubtful. “Will, I’m not sure you’re ready to hear what I have to say.”

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s only fair. I told you all my woes with Mary Ann and you helped me, you really did. I’d like to do you the same favor, if you’d care to tell me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not certain where I could even begin…”

He tried to help her out by giving her a starting point. “Are you sure it’s love and not something else?” he asked, trying to keep his tone big-brotherly.

She blinked. “What else could it be?”

He bit his lip. Despite her rough exterior, she was so innocent, so sheltered in her own way. He hated to think of some man taking advantage of that innocence. “This man you said you cared about…Maybe you feel an obligation, because this person is an old friend.”

Her lips parted and she gasped in a breath, indicating his words had hit close to the truth. “I don’t think it’s an obligation, Will.”

That, at least, was a good sign. “Then, you feel as if you would go to him of your own free will, without any thought of what you might owe him, or how long you’ve known him?”

“Of course…I mean, I don’t know.” Paulie looked confused. “What do you mean by ‘go to him?’“

Will wasn’t quite sure how to explain. “Well, have you kissed this man?”

“Oh, sure!” she said, then her brows knit together.
“Well, you know, he gives me a peck on the cheek every once in a while. That what you mean?”

“No.”

She blinked. “Well…how many kinds of kisses are there?”

He smiled. “A couple.”

“Oh.” She thought about this for a moment. “Well, what kind in particular are you trying to find out about?”

Will hesitated. She looked so anxious, so sweet. The poor thing had grown up without a mother, and since she was fifteen, had been deprived of a father as well. The least he could do was show her what kind of kisses to watch out for.

Of course, it didn’t escape his notice that Paulie had very kissable lips, now that he put his mind to studying them. Or that she looked willowy and almost fragile beneath her bulky clothes. Why, he could probably encircle her waist just with his two hands.

He stepped forward slowly and tilted her chin upwards with his knuckle. Her eyes were two liquid green pools as they looked up at him. “Do you really want to know?”

She nodded her head eagerly.

He smiled, then bent to press his lips against hers. At first contact, she let out a gasp of surprise, but soon she relaxed and slowly began to experiment, pushing against him with more pressure. Then, when he moved his hands around her waist and pulled her a fraction closer, she threw her arms exuberantly around his neck and attached herself to him like a snail on a cistern.

But she sure didn’t feel like a snail. Paulie might look like a stick figure, but her body felt rounded and warm, womanly. He ran a hand down her back, feeling each gentle swell of her vertebrae beneath the soft flesh underneath her
cotton shirt. In response she nestled herself even more tightly against him.

Will groaned at the desire she was so unknowingly stirring up in him. He hadn’t expected that, but there was no mistaking the tingling sensation below his belt she had so guilelessly created.

He pulled away and looked down, smiling stiffly. Her own eyes, once they fluttered open, were wide and luminous as she stared dreamily at him. There was no mistaking that this must have been her first kiss.

“Well,” he said, relieved. “I guess Trip isn’t the wolf I worried he was.”

Paulie’s dreamy gaze turned to a gawk. “What?”

He grinned. Poor thing. She was still too embarrassed to admit the truth. “You don’t have to be timid about it. I know your secret, Sprout.”

“What in tarnation are you talking about, Will?”

“About you…and Trip.”

Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew buggy.
“Trip!”
she said in a voice that would have been a shout if her throat hadn’t been so strangled. She looked anxiously over at the sleeping man to make sure she hadn’t awakened him by yelling his name. “How on earth…What made you guess…?” She didn’t deny it, though.

So it
was
true.

He shrugged. “I suppose it would be obvious to anyone who has eyes.”

She looked horrified, and he guessed he could understand. She was probably afraid people would say mean things about her falling for such an older man. Like all the talk he’d heard about Mary Ann and Oat. And in Paulie’s case, people probably would say she had snatched Trip away from Tessie Hale.

Her hand flew to her lips, and she continued to stare at him, stunned for a few moments.

“I won’t tell,” he promised her.

“No!” she cried insistently. “You can’t! I mean, please don’t!”

“But I want you to know, if you need to talk, you can come right to me.”

“Oh…thank you,” she murmured. Her cheeks looked so dark, they were probably ablaze. “I’d better…better get back to the fire.”

He sent her a sideways grin. “You sure it’s the fire you want to get back to…and not Trip?”

Her face crunched into a mortified expression, and she twirled on her heel and scampered off toward their makeshift camp.

Will chuckled softly as she retreated. He was sorry she was so embarrassed; still, he was glad they’d had the conversation. He wouldn’t want to think that he had abandoned Paulie in a time of need. The only trouble was, his little kissing demonstration was lingering in his mind—and in his senses—longer than would seem proper for such an innocent little lesson.

He went back to his own bedroll apart from the others and sighed, leaning back and looking up at the stars for a while. He supposed it was just all this business with Mary Ann that was making him feel so restless. And yet, when he closed his eyes, it wasn’t Mary Ann’s face that he saw. It was Paulie’s, her green eyes round and moist. Such pretty eyes—it didn’t seem he’d ever really noticed them before. He remembered holding her body against his. He’d expected her to be all pointy bones and awkwardness, but instead all the awkwardness had been his as he’d found himself holding a woman with soft feminine curves in his arms.

Suddenly, Will shot up to sitting, his heart beating like thunder. He took a deep breath, and shook his head as if to clear it. What a crazy day this had been! And now, he was beginning to think that
he
was crazy. It was almost as if he…as if he found Paulie desira—

He swallowed, not even completing the outlandish thought.

That couldn’t be so. It just couldn’t.

Could it?

“G
ot any more coffee, Paulie?”

Paulie yanked the little pot off the fire and handed it to Trip. “I’d like to know who elected me cook,” she sniped good-naturedly.

Trip laughed. “You’re the only one ‘sides Will who’s got provisions.”

She threw up her hands in mock exasperation. “And where is Will?”

Trip looked at her keenly. “That’s the fifth time you asked that this mornin’. I told you, he woke me up early and said he was gonna do a little scoutin’ before we head out.”

Paulie ducked her head. “I only meant that I wondered why he’d been gone so long.” She sighed regretfully. “I should have woken up earlier. Then I could have gone with him.”

But darn it, whose fault was it that she’d slept till practically sunup? All night long, the memory of Will’s lips pressed up against hers kept playing through her mind, making her feel hot and shivery all over again. There was no way to get any shut-eye when a body was so keyed up. She’d tossed and turned on the hard ground half the night,
unable to sleep, unable to think about anything besides that kiss. Unable to find relief from the letdown after he let her go and so arrogantly pronounced her to be in love with somebody else!

How could Will possibly think she was in love with Trip Peabody! Not that Trip wasn’t perfectly nice—but have a romance with him? That idea sidled right up to the outrageous. Besides, the whole world south of the Red River knew Trip was in love with Tessie Hale. Will hadn’t been gone to Kansas so long that he should have forgotten that longstanding state of affairs.

And did Will think she went around kissing just anybody? To her, it seemed that all the feelings she’d had stored up for Will all these long years had come rushing out during that kiss, almost as bold a declaration of her love as if she’d just told him so flat out. She could have held on to him forever. But Will hadn’t sensed her feelings for him. He hadn’t sensed anything at all, apparently.

Trip sat back on his heels and took a long drink from his tin cup. “He didn’t look like he wanted company, Paulie.”

She threw a glance to the tree under which Oat sat, snoozing. “Probably Will wanted some time to daydream about Mary Ann,” she said, trying not to let her sore feelings seep into her tone.

“Probably,” Trip agreed. “Love requires a heap of brooding, I’ve found.”

She had firsthand knowledge of that fact, too. “Only when it goes wrong, Trip. I dare say there are some romances out there that go off without a hitch.” Oh, how she wished she and Will could have one of those! Unfortunately, things had already turned so odd between them, she doubted they would ever have a normal relationship.

Or any relationship. Not when he could kiss her without
feeling anything more than he would if he were kissing a rock. And not while he was so obsessed by Mary Ann that he had to go tearing out at the strike of dawn by himself.

“Well,” Trip said philosophically, “I guess it’s like my old daddy said. Anything worth havin’ is worth fightin’ for.”

Paulie dropped the pot back on the fire and crossed her arms. “Your daddy said that when he was marching off to war in sixty-one, Trip. Brooding about Tessie Hale all day isn’t exactly the equivalent of a pitched battle.”

“Maybe not, but it sure wears me out sometimes.”

After her sleepless night, she could vouch personally for the exhaustion brought on by unrequited love. She poured herself another cup of coffee and drank down half a cup in one swig.

“Ain’t you goin’ to eat anything, Paulie?”

“I can’t eat,” she said, staring at the biscuit she’d been holding in her hand since she’d made the batch and feeling almost queasy at the thought of actually swallowing it. Lovesickness seemed to have caused her heart to swell overnight, forming a physical barrier between her mouth and her stomach.

Trip shook his head, misinterpreting her digestive woe. “Whether you eat or not won’t make much difference whether we run into Night Bird.”

At the sound of the dreaded name, Oat jolted into wakefulness. “Night Bird?” he said, his hand reaching for his gun. His rheumy eyes were wide with fear.

“We were just talking, Oat,” Paulie assured the older man. Lord only knew what he would do if Night Bird ever did come riding over the hill.

Lord only knew what any of them would do!

“Then what’s that I hear comin’?”

It wasn’t until Oat mentioned them that Paulie heard the
hoofbeats thundering toward them. She scrambled for her rifle, as did Trip, who stood on wobbly legs, but with a cool head, watching. How could he be so calm? She wasn’t sure what was coming at them, but it didn’t sound good.

Just as she was readying her gun for a battle, the rider crested the gentle hill in front of them. It was Will, riding as if Beelzebub himself were nipping at his heels. Paulie waited, looking to see what was following him, but nothing appeared to explain the crazed way he had galloped into their calm little camp.

He brought his horse to a quick stop just a few feet away from them and quipped, “Thought I might need to wake you all up.”

Paulie put her hands on her hips, half in anger, half to steady herself as she stared into his whiskey-colored eyes. Heavens, Will was a handsome man! Of course she’d known that already, but now she had the additional bonus of knowing how it felt to be in those strong arms of his. And with his dark hair wild from his ride, and his eyes shining as if lit from some internal fire, he was even betterlooking than he’d seemed the night before, when he’d kissed her. She felt dizzy from the mere memory of it—light-headed and weightless.

It was hard to keep her thoughts straight, being so close to him. She just couldn’t allow herself to think about that kiss, not right at the moment.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, riding in like that and scaring us half to death!”

Will swung off his horse. “Good morning to you, too, Sprout.” He seemed to look right through her, as though he didn’t want to deal with her at all. Like last night had meant nothing to him!

Well, he would soon find out she wasn’t so easy to ignore.
“Do you realize we were poised to shoot whoever was coming? You could have got yourself killed just now!”

He turned on her, eyes flashing. “If you can’t keep a cool head, you shouldn’t be here.”

Her blood shot from hot to the boiling point in nothing flat.
“You’re
the one who’s been flying off the handle all the time, Mr. Hothead,” she said. She almost added that it was his jumping to fool conclusions about his lady love’s abduction that was leading them off on this crazy mission to begin with, but decided to refrain, for Oat’s sake.

Will turned to her with a retort on his lips, but was cut off by Trip.

“Any sign of Night Bird?”

Will pivoted toward Trip—dismissing Paulie as easily as he would swat a bothersome gnat away. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Where are we goin’ today?”

“I thought we could head into Vinegaroon.”

Paulie’s ire evaporated at the mention of that town. “Vinegaroon!” she cried. “There isn’t anything there but a saloon.”

“You’ll be thirsty by the time we get there,” Will told her with a wry smile.

The reply poised on the tip of Paulie’s tongue was interrupted by Oat, who was nodding in agreement with Will. “Roy Bean’ll know if Night Bird is crawling around.”

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Will said.

“Judge Bean, you mean!” Paulie had heard about Roy Bean, but had never met the man. He had a reputation for running a hell of a saloon, and, since being appointed judge, or appointing himself—no one was ever quite sure which—he’d also become known for doling out swift justice. She wasn’t sure she would like him. “I’ve heard of
innocent men wandering into that place in the morning and ending the day swinging by a rope.”

Will looked at her, really looked at her for the first time that morning, and she could have sworn there was laughter in those brown eyes. “Well maybe if you mind your manners and keep your mouth shut, we won’t have to waste time cutting you down at sunset.”

Then he turned, missing by inches the hard biscuit that Paulie sent whizzing past his ear.

If Trip wanted Paulie Johnson, he was welcome to her. And good luck to him!

Will snorted to himself and spurred Ferdinand just a little faster, knowing that the others would keep up, no matter what. Paulie would die before she let out a whimper of complaint about their pace, or her hunger, which she was probably feeling keenly by now. The fool girl should be eating more food and throwing less of it. Trip said she hadn’t eaten a bite at breakfast. Probably just more evidence of her lovesickness, he thought, feeling a now familiar prick of unease at the thought of the pair of them.

The whole affair was none of his business, and he’d already spent far too much time thinking about it. Brooding about it, almost. Bad enough he hadn’t been able to sleep almost all the night, but the minute his bleary eyes had opened this morning, he’d started thinking about that kiss again, and how surprisingly soft and warm Paulie had felt in his arms. And then he’d remembered that Paulie belonged to Trip. He’d ridden out and had been unable to think about anything else. Night Bird could have jumped on the back of the horse with him and he wouldn’t have known it.

He was determined not to give Trip and Paulie—or that kiss—another thought.

He rode on for a few minutes, trying to concentrate on the landscape around him. Scrubby hills surrounded them, providing perfect hiding places for bandits.

Will sighed, unconsciously giving up his internal struggle. He just couldn’t even begin to guess why a sensible man like Trip Peabody would choose an ill-tempered waif like Paulie Johnson to sacrifice his long-held bachelorhood to! It didn’t make sense. Especially when everyone had always thought he would marry Tessie Hale.

Tessie Hale…Now
there
was a woman! Tessie was tall, pretty and even-tempered. Sure, she was a little long in the tooth—seasoned, you might say—but so was Trip. And she was a widow, which was about the perfect thing for a woman to be, when it came to a man’s choosing a mate. It meant that she’d already had some measure of matrimonial success. Will frowned. Or maybe it just meant that she’d nagged her husband into an early grave.

Paulie’s laughter startled him out of his thoughts. “Trip, you chucklehead!”

Her voice travelled forward, a husky whisper on the light dry breeze. There was something soothing and friendly about the teasing sound. He remembered now that sometimes when he was going up to Kansas, he’d think back on his silly conversations with Paulie. Paulie could chatter on for hours about nothing and still manage to be entertaining. Now that he considered it, he couldn’t remember thinking back on a single conversation he’d had with Mary Ann while he was on his way to Kansas. Maybe that was why he’d written Mary Ann that damn letter—the epistle that had seemed to cause the whole world to turn topsy-turvy.

If so, that was a fool reason. It was ridiculous to compare Paulie and Mary Ann anyway—like comparing a fig to a daisy.

He couldn’t help glancing back at her. At just that moment,
she tossed her head back, laughing at something Trip had said. Or maybe she was laughing at one of her own jokes. Even from this distance, he could almost see her eyes sparkling with humor. Her head was tilted as it always did when she found something particularly funny.

He quickly turned back, sighed again, and shook his head, clearing it. Trip Peabody? It just didn’t make sense. But neither sometimes did his wanting to honor the pledge he’d made Mary Ann’s father. Especially now that she was married to Oat. But he felt it just the same, and maybe it was that feeling of being bound to someone against all reason that had brought Paulie and Trip together. If so, he knew he couldn’t talk her out of it.

Not that he wanted to, he assured himself for the millionth time. It was none of his business who Paulie Johnson set her heart on.

Galloping hoofbeats closed in on him, and he didn’t have to turn around to guess whose horse they belonged to.

“Look, Will!” Paulie cried with more enthusiasm than he would have thought any one of them would have the energy to muster. “There’s the saloon!”

“You’d think you’d never seen one before,” he said, making fun of her excitement over a mere wooden building—one he apparently would have missed, his mind was so preoccupied.

Sure enough, there it stood on the horizon, looking sturdy, almost fortresslike on the bare arid land surrounding it. A horse was tethered out front, and a pair of men sat on the porch. They were dwarfed by a brand-new sign running the length of the saloon’s roof that read The Law West of the Pecos.

“Roy Bean sure seems to take his job seriously,” Paulie said.

“His job, his liquor and his woman,” Will agreed.

“Woman?” Paulie looked at him in some confusion. “I didn’t know he was married.”

Will smiled. “Married to an idea, you might say.”

She didn’t look like he had clarified the situation for her any, so he simply rode on, deciding it was best to let her discover for herself Roy Bean’s odd fascination with Lily Langtry, a woman he’d never met—and probably never would, considering that famous English actresses didn’t make it around to South Texas very often. Oat and Trip caught up with Will and Paulie in the final stretch, both men looking very excited to be within spitting distance of the inside of a building again. A building with liquor in it, too.

“Think I might have me a sarsaparilla,” Oat said, looking about as animated as Will had seen him.

“Me, I’m gonna have a whiskey.” Trip almost licked his lips. “Seems like forever since we’ve had that, hey, Paulie?”

The two looked at each other and smiled—an exchange Will tried to glean for any kernel of meaning. But of course the intent, if not the meaning itself, was clear. From this peculiar couple, a shared grin was the equivalent of a loveydovey simper from a more traditional pair of lovers.

“It seems forever since I’ve
sold
any, I know that,” Paulie agreed. “But you never did care about sellin’ so much as drinkin’, Trip.”

Will winced. Hearing them talk about the mundane goings-on at that saloon of theirs, he felt as if he were listening in on the most intimate of conversations. Oat didn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable…but perhaps he just didn’t know the truth. Yet. The way Paulie and Trip were carrying on, everyone was bound to start suspecting sooner or later.