WildOutlaws (13 page)

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. For a moment in time, she could’ve easily buried her head in his chest and acted like the woman she wanted to be—vulnerable, sheltered, and completely surrounded by the men she cared about. And she’d rapidly accepted she certainly harbored feelings for the five men who’d stormed into her life.

“Mary Margaret, the marshal would like to meet you. He spent years looking for you and now he wants to be a part of your life.”

“He spent years, did he?” Mary Margaret pressed her lips together. “I’ve been right here all along except when I’ve traveled to Stockton…” She clasped her hand over her mouth and stared at the man who delivered the most damning and confusing news she’d ever heard in her life. “Stockton. Those men—that gang—they found out about me when I visited relatives in Stockton and now they want to kill me because of something the marshal did.”

“Yes,” Tuff said.

“And he hired you to watch over me?” She felt sick to her stomach as she studied the independent expressions on each of their faces. “You’ve been using me all along?”

“No,” Creed said, trying to pull her closer.

She slapped his hands away and tried to escape. Buck refused to move. Creed didn’t budge. She crawled to the end of the bed, totally aware of the fact her ass was right in their faces.

Well good. That was the precise place she wanted all of them to plant their next round of kisses.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked Tuff.

When he didn’t respond, she looked at David. “And you…we had some sort of connection right from the start and you were playing me all along?”

Pain existed in his eyes. At least she assumed that’s what she saw. For all she knew, it was malice.

“I never lied to you and I do care about you…”

“Save it!” she screamed. This wasn’t the kind of thing she’d expected from them. They’d lied to her. They’d said they needed a teacher and for what? Some sort of charade!

What a fool she’d been. Grown men didn’t pay a woman to teach them how to love. Oh no, grown men thought they knew everything!

She buried her face in her palms. Damn it. She should’ve known there was something wrong from the very beginning. “I can’t believe I fell for all this.”

“We needed to keep you safe,” Tuff explained.

“You wanted a whore!” she screamed.

“That’s not true,” Creed said, leaving the bed. He grabbed his breeches. Shaking the pants briskly, he stuffed one leg inside the loose-fitting material before shoving the other leg forward. Then he jumped once and yanked the seat of his pants over his hips. “You needed to think that, Mary Margaret. It was easier for you to believe we wanted to hire a whore. You didn’t want to accept what was right in front of you.”

“And what was that, exactly?” she asked bitterly.

Creed stalked her. “You’ve obviously mistaken me for one of the other four here. So listen up, sugar. You and I need to have a talk and it will be in your best interest if you hang on every word. If you don’t, you might need to hone in on
your
listening skills. I understand your emotional baggage prevents you from seeing what’s right in front of your face but if you don’t hear what I have to say, you’ll miss one hell of a confession, not to mention the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Give her a minute to digest all this,” Jared whispered, holding Creed off for a minute or two longer. Buck was going to try but he knew he’d hit a dead end.

Creed said, “I’m going downstairs for a drink. When I come back, I’d better have the floor.”

“It’ll be all yours,” Jared promised.

Creed slid a kiss onto Mary Margaret’s cheek and then disappeared. Buck was surprised she didn’t slug him.

Good God, Creed was in worse shape than Tuff or David. Maybe Buck needed to stay away from her. The woman was dangerous to a man’s independence.

He sat back and observed. Mary Margaret was liable to crack. He’d been afraid to get too close to her for this very reason and after her friend died, he saw where all of this was heading. Now, the marshal appeared. His timing couldn’t have been worse.

Marshal Doyle was a worthless piece of scum. Buck hated working for him and he had warned the others from the beginning. This was bound to end badly.

It was only a matter of time before the marshal showed his face. When a job was important to Doyle, he lurked in the shadows. He only hired them and men like them because he didn’t want to dirty his hands.

“So where is he?” Mary Margaret asked, stepping behind the dressing screen.

Damn. Buck would’ve preferred life ten-to-one if she’d just flaunted her assets as she told them all off. The natural sway of her breasts and hips as she paced the floor was enough to give a man all sorts of kind ideas. He was straight-up paying attention.

He should’ve been shot for the things he was thinking right then, too. Mary Margaret deserved more than any of them had given her. She had every right to feel hurt and betrayed.

“We tricked her,” he stated flatly, catching glares from around the room. “I don’t care if you agree with me or not. It’s the truth. We manipulated her. Sure, our feelings were changing even as the lie was set in motion but from her viewpoint, we took advantage of her and we deliberately led her to believe one thing when it was actually something else altogether.”

“Thank you, Buck.” She reappeared wearing a pale pink robe. She quickly worked to secure the sash around the middle. Taking a seat at her dressing table, she grabbed a brush. Swatting the bristles against her palm, she said, “So if you won’t tell me where he’s staying will you at least tell me why he’s here?”

“He’s at the hotel,” Buck said.

“Man you’re just earning brownie points all the way around tonight, aren’t you?” David asked.

“She has a right to know,” Buck said, averting his gaze.

“I don’t want to meet him if that’s what you’re afraid of.” A beat later, she asked, “When will he be leaving?”

“Who would know?” David said, dragging his hand down the length of his face.

“The sooner the better,” she remarked coolly. “And you can tell him I said that. I don’t care.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Tuff said. “But I need for you to understand something, Mary Margaret.”

David shook his head in warning.

“Stop doing that,” Mary Margaret said. “I’m thirty-five years old. Don’t you think I can handle a little honesty no matter how painful?”

“Your father’s business dealings put you at risk. His enemies discovered he had a daughter and threatened to kill you. Jesse Strain’s gang is here because you’re the person of interest. They want you dead, Mary Margaret.”

“Maybe they’ll get dear old dad instead.”

“They want to hurt him. They aren’t interested in killing him,” David explained.

“Then they must need him alive for some reason which means he’s a dirty marshal.”

“She catches on quickly,” Jared said, refusing to add much more.

“Well if they can’t kill him, maybe they’ll get tired of trying to kill me and go off and look for another illegitimate son or daughter. Guys like him typically have several. Once they start breeding different women it becomes an obsession.

“They collect kids so when they’re old and decrepit they can make an appearance in their child’s life, apologize because they were never a hands-on parent and ask for forgiveness. The entire thing is a ploy, an act. They play on the belief that their adult child still wants a relationship with them. Well guess what? I don’t want one. I didn’t even know I had another father. Doyle doesn’t care about me. If he had, then he would’ve come forward when I was a little girl without a mother or father. He didn’t and that’s fine.”

“I happen to believe he does care for you.”

“I don’t care what you think, Tuff.”

“All right. That’s understandable.”

“And a blasted shame,” Creed said reentering with a bottle of whiskey swinging from his hip. He set the bottle on her dressing table and said, “You’re throwing away five men who happen to care about you and if you do that, then that’s your choice but answer this question—would you rather be here in your room with five men you know on an intimate level or downstairs working a greedy crowd?”

“What difference does it make? I’m still a whore. I’d rather be a prostitute to strangers than used by men I’d slowly begun to think of as my friends.”

“We are your friends,” Tuff assured her.

“And we’re human,” Creed said. “Do I think we were upfront with you like we should’ve been? No. Did we make a bad judgment call? Absolutely. But do I want you? Hell yes I do. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman and if you pass on me—or any of us—then you’re the one who’ll be sorry.”

“This is about the marshal who employed you. This isn’t about us. There is no us.”

“Like hell there isn’t!” Creed yelled. “This is about me and you. This is about you and these men right here, the fellas you can reach out and touch, love…”

Buck saw her catch her breath.

Creed went to her. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him. Planting a kiss on her lips, he said, “It’s about giving us what you’ve never given to another. In turn, you’ll receive more than you ever thought you could claim.”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s not what I’m saying, it’s what I’m willing to do. I’m loving you, Mary Margaret. Whether you like it or not, whether you allow it or not, I’m loving you and I plan on doing it for the rest of my life.”

“That makes two of us,” Tuff said.

“Three,” David added.

“Four,” Buck said, though he wasn’t sure if she’d believe him or not. He’d stayed out of the picture, determined to be the silent man on the outs until she opened up her arms and welcomed him in. Maybe now she would. He’d long since been infatuated with the idea of her and now here they were at a crossroads. They couldn’t lose her now.

“I guess that leaves me,” Jared said. “And I’m number five. I may be last but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I’ve been working day and night to keep you safe.”

“He has,” Tuff vouched for him. “He and Buck were taking turns watching the streets of Cripple Creek in hopes of putting some distance between you and Jesse’s men.”

“There were too many of them,” Buck explained, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. “But now we know who and what we’re facing. They won’t come near you again.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’ll guard you with our lives,” David spoke up.

“And what do you want from me in return?” she asked.

“We want you to be happy,” Creed said. “And like I told you earlier, I’ll do everything I can to make sure that happens.”

Chapter Fourteen

Mary Margaret left the saloon about an hour later. She was accompanied by David and Tuff. They didn’t think she could tread across the street due to the accumulating snow. Turns out, they were right. David carried her.

Once she arrived at the hotel, she became more confident. The wisdom gained over the years would carry her through and considering what she’d just discovered, she was sure she could stand up to Marshal Doyle when they met face-to-face.

David, Tuff, Buck, Creed, and Jared loved her. What woman wouldn’t find internal strength after discovering how many men were standing by and quite prepared to cherish her?

She walked into the hotel and requested Marshal Doyle’s room number. “Are you his daughter?” the clerk asked.

“I’m Mary Margaret.”

The woman smiled. “Yes, I know. I’ve seen you around town. And recently, too.”

Mary Margaret gulped. She was probably bad for the hotel’s business. She made a mental note to take her exploits out of town the next time she decided she needed an audience.

“He’s in room four. He’s at the top of the steps. First door on the right.”

Mary Margaret started up the front steps but due to the commotion behind her, she quickly turned around. The clerk hurriedly placed a ‘closed’ sign on the door and darted behind the desk again. This time she ducked out of sight.

Mary Margaret stretched her neck, trying to see David or Tuff, hoping they were pacing in front of the hotel. Surely they were there, she reasoned. Then she continued her march toward the marshal.

He wanted to see her. He wanted to meet his daughter. She’d shake his hand and thank him for trying to stop the thugs who wanted to kill her and then disappear from his life forever.

She knocked on his door. No one answered. She knocked again.

“Come in!”

She entered the room cautiously, immediately on guard when the only light in the room was a small candle. The marshal directed her to a chair across from him. “Won’t you have a seat, whore?”

Mary Margaret jerked. “I think I have the wrong room.”

A bear of a man stood at once. He was heavily scarred and his face was among the ugliest she’d ever seen. “Are you Mary Margaret or not?”

“Yes,” she replied, wishing she could take it back as soon as she confirmed her name.

“Come here,” he said, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her around to the other side of the bed. “Is that your Pa?”

A man with gunshots to his temple lay in a pool of blood. Immediately, she was filled with sorrow and regret. She turned away, refusing to let a man flaunt his kill right under her nose.

“Is he your Pa or not!”

“My father is buried in a cemetery right outside of town.” Oh God. She’d said too much.

“What is his name?”

“It’s none of your business,” she snapped, refusing to provide more. “What if this guy knew the entire situation? What if he understood she was the illegitimate daughter of a woman and the marshal? What if she confirmed too much and lost her life because of something she said? Was that why the marshal was dead? Had he said too much or too little? Had he fought or tried to get away?

Mary Margaret trembled under the strong outlaw’s hands. She was terrified but knew from past experiences there was only one way to survive. She had to remain calm.

The man yanked her forward and dragged her toward a chair located in the center of the room. He took a seat on a burgundy settee and splayed his legs. At the same time, he spread his arms over the back of the sofa. “Would you like something to drink?”