To Seduce a Texan. Georgina Gentry

and pretty eyes. A man could do worse.”

      “I’ve done worse,” Zeb snorted, “in a saloon at closin’ time when I was lookin’ for a filly to go home with.”

      “Yep,” agreed his older brother with a nod, “I’ve seen your women. Most are coyote bait.”

      Waco frowned. “This one is a lady. Don’t imagine she’d ever go into a saloon.”

      “Speakin’ of which,” Tom coughed, “why don’t we adjourn to that one down the street for a drink?”

      “Let’s get some supplies first.” Waco nodded toward the general store. “Then we’ll have a drink. The longer we hang around this town, the more notice we get, and this town is workin’ alive with blue bellies.”

      “Ain’t we gonna rob the bank?” Zeb put a chaw in his mouth.

      His brother punched his shoulder. “Why don’t you just get up on that there post office rooftop and shout?” he scolded. “There might be a few people that didn’t hear you.”

      “Shut up, both of you,” Waco snapped. “We got to decide what to do.”

      “Yes, sir,” Tom said without thinking.

      Waco glared at him.

      “I mean, sure, Waco.”

      “That’s better. A slip like that could get us all killed. We got a porcupine by the tail here, looks like. If we don’t get the money, we get shot. If we try to rob this bank with all these Yankee soldiers around, we get shot.”

      “Yep, it’s a Mexican standoff.” Zeke nodded and pulled out his harmonica. He began to play “Oh, Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie.”

      Zeb spat tobacco juice in the dusty street. “You know, we could just light a shuck for Californy or Canada.”

      Waco glared at him. “We’re Texans. We gave our word. That’s sacred.”

      “Amen.” Zeke paused in playing his mouth organ. “Remember the Alamo.”

      “To the Alamo!” the other three echoed reverently and removed their Stetsons.

      “I’ll drink to that,” declared Waco. “First the supplies, and then a drink in honor of the great state of Texas.”

      They went into the general store, got bacon, cornmeal, and coffee, then headed down the street through the swinging doors of the Velvet Lady. The place was deserted and smelled of stale beer and cigar smoke.

      Waco chose a table near the window where he had his back to the wall but could watch the people and horses moving up and down the main street. An old bartender with a handlebar mustache came up to the table. “What can I get you gents?”

      “Beer all around,” Waco drawled.

      The man paused, looking interested. “You gents ain’t from around here, are you?”

      “Nope, Texas,” Waco said. “We’re up here to sell some beef.”

      The bartender grinned. “That new fort will be glad to hear that. They could probably use some meat.”

      His partners exchanged glances but Waco said, “How long’s that been there?”

      “Just a few weeks. Major Mathis is in charge. It sure is bringing in a lot of business for Prairie View.”

      Waco nodded. “Reckon we’ll go see the major. Gracias.”

      The other man looked puzzled.

      “I mean, thanks,” Waco said. “Now how about those beers?”

      The other man grinned and disappeared. Tom started to speak, but Waco motioned him to silence. The barkeep came back with the beers and Waco threw down the change, waited till the man had scooped it up, and headed into the back room before he muttered, “Well, now we know why it’s such a fat bank.”

      Tom grabbed his beer, drank thirstily, wiped the foam from his lip. “But, Waco, we don’t have no cows to sell.”

      “I got cows,” Waco said, “runnin’ loose on my ranch. Reckon it will be after the war before we can round them up.”

      Zeke sipped his beer slowly, savoring it. “We ain’t really gonna pay a social call on the major?”

      “Sure we are,” Waco said. He pulled out his gold watch and checked the time. “Otherwise, we’ll arouse suspicion.”

      “What if he wants to buy cows?” Zeb asked.

      Waco winked. “We’ll price them too high.”

      Zeke grumbled, “I don’t see how any of this is gonna help us get the money we need.”

      “Let’s get outta here,” Waco ordered, draining his mug. “We got to think about how to get fifty thousand dollars.”

      “It might as well be a million,” Tom said, pulling his hat low over his big ears and red hair.

      Waco motioned for them to follow him. “We’ll find a place to camp and talk about it, but right now, boys, I think we ought to pay a call on the major and look over that fort, see just how many soldiers they got.”

      “Too many!” Zeke snorted. “And half of them standin’ around in this town. We wouldn’t make it half a mile with them chasin’ us.”

      As they mounted up, Zeb suggested, “Maybe we could break into the bank at night.”

      “With what?” Waco challenged as he swung up into the saddle. “We didn’t come equipped with dynamite or picks and shovels, and if we try to buy stuff like that, everyone would go on the alert like hound dogs sniffin’ a coon scent.”

      Zeke wiped his beard with the back of one gnarled hand as he mounted up. “I don’t like it none, this here ridin’ into the fort. “You know in these clothes, we could get shot.”

      Waco stared at him with pale blue eyes. “You got a better plan?”

      “Reckon not,” the old man admitted.

      “Then let’s go, partners,” Waco commanded.

      They rode north to the fort. As they approached the new buildings and saw more and more Union troops hanging around the stables and marching on the parade grounds, Waco’s heart sank to the toes of his worn boots. Yep, this was going to be a big fort, drawing in hundreds of troops and more town residents. No wonder Prairie View had such a prosperous bank. Too bad his informant had overlooked this little detail.

      Tom leaned toward him and whispered, “I think we seen enough to know there’s too many of them for us to give that bank another thought. Why don’t we just turn around and ride out?”

      Waco shook his head and kept riding. “Too many people have seen us. We got to have an excuse for comin’ here.”

      He asked a passing private and was pointed toward Major Mathis’s office. The four tied up their horses at the hitching rail and went into the new building.

      A pimply faced corporal looked up from a cluttered desk. “May I help you gentlemen?”

      “We’d like to see the major,” Waco said.

      The corporal’s expression changed at the Southern drawl. “I’ll see if he’s in, but you’ll have to leave your guns with me.”

      Waco felt naked without his Colt, but he said, “Sure. We’re here on business.”

      As they were taking off their pistols and handing them over, a young officer came out of the other office. He had long blond curls. “Hanlan, I’m leaving early, got a dinner to attend—”

      “Sir.” The corporal scrambled to his feet, saluting. “These gentlemen are here to see you.”

      The pink-faced major looked annoyed. “What about?”