“Catch ya later, McCallister. Mind yer back trail.” She’d looked over her shoulder to observe his response and was well pleased to see him clenching his jaw as he’d watched her departure.
Robert, the preacher man with a gun.
She’d understood his attack had been meant to teach her a lesson that might save her life. And her retaliation had been meant to show him she could take care of herself. After their encounter in Marrow, Miri figured she and Deacon had been officially introduced and she’d settled in to enjoy knowing him.
She’d chosen the McCallisters to trail because in their own peculiar fashion, they were honorable men, smart enough to learn from and safe to be trusted. She’d quit wearing the whip but she hadn’t quit following the McCallisters, especially Deacon.
It had tickled her some the way he’d snapped at the bait every time she’d thrown an insult out to rile him.
Beau gets him slack-jawed and pissin’ bullets every time.
Never mind Beau, Miri had spent many a night remembering the feel of Deacon’s shoulder muscles when she’d grabbed him. Even through her gloves she’d felt the power in his arms. It had been only the element of surprise allowing her strike to get through. He’d been mad as a rabid wolf when she’d kicked him in the balls. But he’d still been bellowing about her safety just the same.
We’ve had some right interestin’ discussions, the two of us.
She should have avoided him. She hadn’t been able to resist seeing him though. And now because she was a ninny, she’d lost her biggest bounty ever to the miscreant.
Even before Ketchum trotted to Possum’s side and sat down, Miri knew they were being followed. Since she preferred knowing who was on her trail, she figured it was time to find out. She camped for the night, built a small fire and made a show of grooming Possum before fading into the surrounding shadows with Ketchum leading the way in their investigation. Any predators lurking in her path scurried away at the approach of the big wolf guiding her.
She and Ketchum were squirming on their bellies on the ground using the twilight and half darkness for cover when her quarry struck a lucifer and lit his cigar.
“Lose something?” Deacon drawled.
Miri felt like a fool. Ketchum growled at the same time his tail thumped. Evidently her wolf couldn’t decide whether to bite Deacon McCallister or lick him. Miri had the same problem. She stood and brushed the dirt off her buckskins before she answered in Beau’s voice, “You followin’ me fer a reason, McCallister?”
“I decided to hold back from coming into your camp for the night until you’d made a fire and put the coffee on. Catch.”
Miri caught the jack he tossed.
“I brought supper. You cook.”
“Maybe I don’t want company.”
“Get used to it. Until we find the counterfeiter’s plates, we’re partnering.” Deacon delivered his astonishing opinion before he grunted and rode past her toward her camp, leaving her standing in the dark holding a dead rabbit.
“Ketchum,” she muttered in her best Beau voice, “I think we’re looking at trouble. What say you?” The big wolf whined, nudging the rabbit in her hand and reminding her to get moving. Now this was a quandary for certain. She’d ridden away to put distance between her and Deacon McCallister and he’d followed her.
I don’t think I can sleep across from him and not crawl into his bedroll.
She groaned. Dammit, she’d been planning on stretching out by the fire and reliving her Pleasure Dome experiences. Now here was the real-life version of Deacon stomping all over those plans as he bullied his way into her camp, dogging Beauregard’s heels and impeding Miri’s happy dreams.
Her theory that one taste of Deacon would be enough was not proving true. She swallowed, trying to tamp down her lust. Reminding herself to focus on reclaiming Ned, she returned to camp.
Deacon had removed his saddle and was brushing down his horse when she and Ketchum entered the camp.
“McCallister, you’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here.” She threw the rabbit back at him. “I’ve got my own food.”
“So be it,” he agreed amiably enough. He didn’t say another word.
Miri pulled her hardtack and jerky from her saddlebags and sat by her fire, daring him to pour himself a cup of her coffee. She was mesmerized by her proximity to the man who simultaneously enraged and aroused her.
She chewed her tough jerky, watching as Deacon deftly skinned, cleaned and spit the carcass of the rabbit. Then he set the meat aside to build his own fire and finished grooming his horse as the flames burned low enough for cooking.
Using a metal rod he pulled from his saddlebag, Deacon propped the meat over the coals, rotating the spit and browning the meat on all sides. Juice sizzled as it dropped on the fire. Miri’s stomach growled as she watched. It was almost less torture to look at Deacon.
Whiskers had grown back, covering the lower half of his face. The new growth looked more black than red in the half light of camp. She shivered and hunched closer to her fire, remembering how she’d watched him shave his beard off. Desperately she snarled in Beauregard’s meanest tone, “McCallister, I don’t know what yer up to, but I’m guessing it ain’t to my benefit.”
“Sure it is, kid. You think too small, Beauregard. I’m going to help you find the plates, catch a gang of counterfeiters and collect the bounty on all of them. In return for my help, you’re going to introduce me to the young woman I met at the Pleasure Dome.”
Miri choked so hard on her biscuit she spilled her coffee. Deacon crossed the space between them and thumped her back until she wheezed and quit coughing. Then he filled his cup with her coffee, handed her a plate with a piece of rabbit meat on it and retreated to his side of the camp.
Well don’t that beat all? I guess he was partial to how it felt too. But I can’t very well say hello, Deacon. Nice seeing you again. By the way, I’m a female…
It appeared that he was planning to attach himself to her like a leech until she introduced him to his coupling companion.
“I’m heading for Abilene with a stack of Hiram’s wanteds.” She glared across the two fires at him. “Alone. You’ve wasted enough of my time. I’m on to other things.”
He glowered back, giving her his
don’t sass me I’m older than you
stare. It was sure different from the way he’d looked at his Pleasure Dome whore. The thought made her mad for some reason and she glared even harder at him.
“Concentrate on the hunt you’re on instead of haring off to pursue the wild bunch in Abilene.” He had the nerve to give her advice.
“Outlaws like to drink and carouse with women, and Abilene has plenty of saloons to meet their needs,” Miri told him. Of course it was a bonus for the thieves and murderers that the Abilene sheriff made it a point to ignore them lest he be required to make an arrest. “Don’t be interfering with my bounty hunting, McCallister,” she added when Deacon’s frown grew bigger.
Since they had a history of stealing each other’s quarry, she knew he understood what she meant. Not only had he just hijacked her prisoner from the Pleasure Dome, but the last time she’d been in Abilene, he’d poached her prize there too.
“Tell me something, Trouble. When you went hunting in Abilene, did you just walk down the boardwalk and peer inside the businesses to see if there was a likely outlaw prospect waiting to be caught?” His drawled question revealed he was thinking about their last bout in Abilene too.
“As a matter of fact, that is more or less how I found Luke Kelly,” she answered defensively. She’d arrived and tied Possum to the hitching rail next to a row of saloons and dance halls and made a trip down the boardwalk fronting them, stepping inside and scanning the customers of each bar. She’d expected to see at least one of the faces on the posters in her vest and she hadn’t been disappointed.
Luke Kelly had been in the Ace High Saloon. She’d been carrying paper on him for a spell and hadn’t needed to pull out her wanted poster to know it was his ugly face she’d been looking at. She’d had an advantage—Kelly didn’t know her. It was her plan to surprise him and take him out without leaving him dead.
“McCallister, Kelly was in my sights. You got in my way that day and darn near got your head blown off.” As soon as the wanted man had spotted Deacon coming through the saloon doors, he’d gone for his gun.
She shuddered at the memory and glowered at the miscreant across the fire. He glared back, giving her his mean grizzly bear stare. But there hadn’t been a thing lumbering or bearlike about Deacon in the Ace High when he’d strode into the saloon and traded bullets with Kelly.
Before she’d been able to blast her quarry with a load of rock salt, Kelly had drawn his weapon. But even as he got off his shot, Deacon’s bullet tore a hole in his chest and gouts of blood stained Luke’s shirt red. All had taken place in less time than it took to crack an egg.
Paying no heed to her, Deacon had crossed the floor, slung the dead man over his shoulder and left the Ace High. After he’d carted the body to the sheriff’s office and collected the money that was rightfully hers, he’d headed for the town livery, continuing to ignore her until she’d stepped in his path.
“I told you to leave the murderers to me.” As he had that day, he growled at her now.
And as she had that day, she protested. “You take the juiciest wanteds for yourself.”
Suddenly he wasn’t across the fire. He was standing in front of her and she was standing facing him and poking him in the chest all over again. “Kelly had a big payout and he. Was. Mine.” She’d glared at him, “I could have—”
“Gotten your head blown off,” he roared, making her step back. But then she remembered the circumstance and stepped close again, grabbing Deacon’s chin while she traced the scar on his face. Luke’s shot had gone wide that day, nicking Deacon’s cheek instead of hitting him between the eyes as intended.
“Glad to see the bullet crease healed,” she said wryly. “Kelly’s bullet came real close to sending ya to meet yer maker, McCallister.”
She’d followed Deacon from the Ace High that day, determined to see how bad he was hit. When she was satisfied it was a flesh wound, she’d shoved a slab of honey at him.
“Dab that on the hole in your face and it’ll heal it.” Examining the scar now, she repeated her words from that day. “I don’t see why ya think yer such a dadblamed fine hunter.”
“Wasn’t anything but a scratch and your remedy healed it fine.” He leaned closer to her, his breath brushing across her lips as he held her gaze. His eyes glittered when he stared at her.
“Like I told you that day, everybody knows honey’s good for healing.” For a moment she had the silly notion he might bite her hand. Hastily, Miri released her grip on his chin and retreated to her spot by the fire.
“I ’spect if I go on to Abilene and corner a likely prospect, yer gonna trail after me and steal my catch away again.”
“Yep.”
Well, fiddlesticks and damnation.
Just as sure as she defied him, he’d trail after her. It didn’t do any good to complain. She wasn’t going to get loose from Deacon long enough to do some serious bounty hunting. She’d outwit him when she could. Meanwhile, another part of her vibrated at the sound of his voice, the smell of his sweat and the sight of his lips close enough to kiss. She sighed.
You’d think as pigheaded and know-it-all as he is, I’d quit mooning over him.
In spite of her anger at his tactics, the female silly part of her was all aflutter because he was sitting across the fire. Not one to let opportunities slip away, she put aside both her animus and attraction.
“All right. Since you won’t let me get on with my usual work, let’s talk turkey. Did Jackson point you to where we can find the printing plates?”
Finding them and returning them to the government agents was worth more than the bounty on the counterfeiter. Together they equaled a sum bigger than all she’d made the year before. Whatever Deacon knew, she needed to find out too.
“Jackson got chatty on the way to Eclipse.”
“Tell me.” Miri ground her teeth together to keep from ranting. If she’d had time with Ned the information would have been hers.
“First we agree to share what you know and vice versa.”
Miri froze, thinking over his proposition.
“Anything I know about the counterfeiter goes on the table. Anything else I know is none of your business.” Finally, after stating her reservations, she agreed.
“It is if it crosses our hunt for Ned, the Pleasure Dome and the people who work there.”
She ate the slice of rabbit he’d given her and considered his counter demand. “Ned never got inside.”
“But he was headed there.”
“I know that. That’s why I was butlering for Lydia Lynch.”
“How did you know to expect him there?”
She didn’t mind tooting her own horn and relaxed with her coffee, explaining how she’d gotten curious about the phony money being passed from town to town. Since she knew most of the sheriffs and gossiped with all she knew, she’d picked up some interesting facts. A raft of phony ten-dollar notes had been circulating through Texas all summer.
She pulled two bills from her pocket, one folded around the other, and stood, walking around the fires to hand them to Deacon.