Devil's Dare. Laurie Grant

Confederate army requisitioned all our horses, the ones that the Devlin boys didn’t ride to war, anyway. Now the Devlins—or what’s left of us, anyway-are trying to rebuild the stud, but it takes cash. So I’m here in Abilene to sell the herd we rounded up in south Texas. They’re runnin’ loose down there, free for the takin.’“

      “’What’s left of us’?” she echoed. “Did you lose family…in the war?”

      He nodded. “My mother almost died of grief. My brother Caleb, the middle boy, never came home, and neither did my sister Annie’s husband—but at least we got a letter from his captain telling us where he fell. Garrick, my oldest brother, might as well have died. They cut his leg off after it was shattered by a minié ball, and now he just sits around the house and feels sorry for himself. I guess I would, too,” he added, feeling guilty for criticizing the brother he’d idolized when they’d been growing up together. “There isn’t much he can do around the farm.”

      She reached out a hand and touched his wrist. “No, you wouldn’t,” she said with sudden certainty. At his surprised look, she added, “I know, I haven’t known you long enough to say that, but I just know you wouldn’t. You’d find a way to do what had to be done. Did your brothers have wives?”

      He allowed himself a bitter laugh. “Garrick’s wife ran off the morning after he came home. Couldn’t face the sight of him, I reckon. Cal hadn’t married yet—fortunately, as it turned out—though every mama in the county wanted her daughter to marry the parson.”

      “Your brother was a preacher?”

      He nodded, thinking how easy she was to talk to. “Yeah, but not the hellfire-an’-brimstone kind. He said you couldn’t teach people about God’s love that way. He went and fought for the Union army because of his beliefs. Shocked a lot of folks in Brazos County.”

      “How did your family feel? Was your father angry?” she asked.

      “He was dead by then. Garrick, though, was furious. He thought my brother had shamed the Devlins, even though he knew how Cal felt. The Devlins didn’t own any slaves-Papa didn’t hold with it, either, you see—but Garrick felt a Southerner ought to support his state.”

      “And you?”

      “I wasn’t real happy about Cal’s choice, either, but I was a green kid then, all excited about what I believed was the glory of war,” he said grimly. “But he was my brother, and I loved him. Before he rode away to join the Yankees, I told him I just wanted him to come home safe.”

      She looked thoughtful. “My father’s a preacher, too. Except he’s that other kind you mentioned.”

      Now he’d put his foot in it. “Oh, say, Miss Mercy, I didn’t mean any offense…”

      “None taken,” she said quickly. “I was just wishing Papa was more like your brother was. I think it works better, too.”

      Her face looked wistful. He wondered what had caused a preacher’s daughter to earn her living whoring in a cattle town? Had her father been so harsh that he had driven her away for some trifling offense? Perhaps he’d caught her out in the haystack with some hayseed swain?

      Then their meals came, and he ceased wondering about her for a while.

       Chapter Seven

      “He’s havin’ dinner with her right this very minute,” Cookie Yates announced triumphantly and without preamble as he stood over Wyatt Earp, seated at his usual table in the Alamo Saloon with three other players, one of whom was Tom Culhane. Cookie was relieved to see that Culhane looked a little more amiable than he had earlier in the day. Maybe he had just had a sore head earlier.

      “What’re you talkin’ about?” Wyatt Earp growled. He didn’t much cotton to having his game interrupted, especially when he held the winning hand. Giving the other players too much time to think could cause Lady Luck to smile on someone else.

      “Devil—Sam Devlin, my trail boss. He and the sportin’ woman you made the bet about was just headin’ into the Grand Hotel’s dinin’ room when I passed by. Sure looked like they was sweet on one another already,” Cookie said with a grin. “Looks like you’re gonna lose your money, Earp. Sure hope you can afford it.”

      “Well, lookin’ sweet doesn’t mean much from a sportin’ woman,” Earp replied, a cynical smile on his face. “You don’t know the breed if you think that means she’s gonna give it away—hey, wait a minute, who did you say your trail boss was with?” he asked, his eyes on the man and woman descending the stairway as he spoke.

      “That Mercedes gal you made the bet about,” Cookie repeated. “You know, that sportin’ woman you said was so choosy? The one Dev bet you he could poke without payin’? It was her, all right, saw that red hair in the lamplight at the entrance.”

      “And when was that?” Earp asked, smirking as he motioned the woman over to their table. She patted the satisfied-looking cowboy she’d been with on the shoulder before separating from him and coming in Earp’s direction.

      “Why, just a coupla minutes ago,” said Cookie. “I figure about now they’re lookin’ deeply into one another’s eyes…give my boss an hour and he’ll have her layin’ down for him, all right. She’ll beg him to,” Cookie bragged. “The gals in Fort Worth couldn’t get enough o’ him when we passed through there. Iffen he tells you he can have her for free, you’d best believe it.”

      “Oh, I’m not arguin’ his ability to have a woman without payin’,” Earp replied, “just the particular woman we were speakin’ of. Boys, I’d like you to meet Miss Mercedes LaFleche,” he said, rising and holding out his hand to the sultry-looking redhead in a tight gown of turquoise satin, who bestowed a smile on the whole table.

      Cookie stared at the woman as if she were a ghost. “But…” he began, pointing at the rich, deep red of her curly hair.

      “Is this the gentleman you wanted me to meet, Wyatt?” she asked, eyeing the gray-haired, whiskery Cookie a little doubtfully.

      Wyatt was grinning openly now. “No, my dear, it isn’t. But tell me something, Mercedes, honey. Were you just over at the Grand Hotel a couple of minutes ago, meetin’ a Texan for dinner there?”

      She looked at the cardsharp as if he had clearly lost his mind. “Wyatt, you just saw me walk down those stairs from my room, I know you did. You saw the cowboy with me. He was a Texan, all right, most of ‘em are, but I didn’t meet him at the Grand Hotel. He bought me a drink right here in the Alamo before we…went upstairs for a while,” she said with a meaningful wink.

      Wyatt turned back to Cookie Yates. “Seems like your boss was takin’ some other woman in to dinner, doesn’t it? Could be he found another gal to charm. Maybe he lost interest in the dare, if he found some gal who’s more of a sure thing.”

      “But…but she had red hair just like this one,” protested Cookie.

      “Is that a fact?” drawled Earp, putting his arm around Mercedes LaFleche, who seemed to enjoy the caress. “Mercedes, you know any other woman in Abilene with red hair that’s as pretty as you?”

      Mercedes preened. “Why, Wyatt, you always said I had no equal! But there isn’t any other woman in Abilene with red hair that I know of, anyway—and I know all the sportin’ women and the ‘virtuous ladies,’ too, even if that bunch do cut me dead when we pass on the street,” she said with a little laugh. “Unless you mean the preacher’s daughter, now…her hair’s sorta the color o’ mine, just a little darker red. But I don’t think she’d be out with some cowboy,” she added. “Her father watches over her like a miser watches his money. And she’s kinda, well…innocent lookin’, compared t’ me.” She gestured at the tight-fitting, eyecatching satin dress she wore.

      Wyatt