Texas Rose

chapter 9

By the time Daniel and Evie reached Ben's room, Tyler was already there. They could hear his shouts even as they hurried down the hall.

"Who the damn hell did you think you were? General Sherman? You could have got yourself killed back there and for what? A bunch of rednecks who can't tell the difference between a fox and a hen?"

They couldn't hear Ben's reply, but it wasn't necessary. All Evie's feathers were bristling, and she shoved into the room without invitation, nearly knocking Tyler from his feet with the swing of the door.

She didn't apologize as he jumped clear. She launched into him with all flags flying. "Ben was trying to save us and maybe even you, you stupid fool. If you can't appreciate that, then get out and leave him to someone who can."

Ben grinned and winked at Daniel. "Now, Miss Evie, lay off the boy. Anybody can see he can't be both pretty and smart. Besides, the sun always bakes his brains when he leaves his hat off."

Daniel snickered, and Evie smiled back at the man in the bed. Tyler glared at them all and stalked out. He didn't bother slamming the door, but the echo of his boots carried all the way down the stairs.

Ben stopped laughing. "You'd better go see to him Miss Evie, or he's likely to ride right out of here and not look back. He's got a burr up his rump you don't know nothin' about."

"That isn't all he's going to have up his rump if I have anything to say about it." Gathering up her sadly disheveled skirt, Evie swung out of the room with the determination of a soldier marching off to war.

She caught Tyler leading the horses to a building with a falling sign on which the word "livery" could still be distinguished. Ben had been wrong about Tyler riding out without looking back. No doubt he meant to water the horses first.

"What was the meaning of that scene?" she demanded as she caught up with him.

Tyler sent her a stony look and reappropriated his hat. Jamming it back on his head, he replied curtly, "It's none of your business."

"Well, it seems to me if we're paying you by the day to act like a donkey, we ought to be entitled to some explanation."

"Jackass. The word is jackass. Did you have to look these things up in the dictionary and memorize them?" Tyler handed the man coming out of the livery a greenback and started unfastening his saddlebags.

"I can say donkey if I choose. It's no skin off your nose if I choose to speak like a lady. And you're evading the point." Evie was aware the stable hand was giving her odd looks, but she could survive odd looks. She wasn't at all certain that she could survive Tyler Monteigne. The sight of those broad shoulders easily taking the weight of the saddlebags as he swung them over was giving her heart palpitations.

"You sound like a schoolteacher, and you're damned right I'm evading the point." Tyler headed back toward the hotel with Evie trailing right behind.

From the corner of his eye he could see a tall man walking their way, and it didn't take even his half-baked brain to figure this was the law in town. Idly, he wondered if he got Evie angry enough if she would turn him in for rape. He supposed she had that right.

"Pecos Martin?"

Evie stopped in her tracks at this question from a stranger and stepped protectively to Tyler's side.

Tyler extended his hand. "Tyler Monteigne, sir. What can I do for you?"

The man with a tarnished star dangling from his vest eyed his outstretched palm, then with a glimmer of understanding, accepted it. He looked Tyler straight in the face when he replied. "I don't hold with gunslingers in this town, but if you're staying incognito then I'll do what I can to keep trouble out of your way. This the lady the boy was raising such hell about?" He nodded in Evie's direction.

Evie was staring at both men with astonishment and didn't react immediately.

"She means to be a schoolteacher," Tyler replied maliciously.

Evie recovered her equanimity sufficiently to smile. "I'm Maryellen Peyton, sheriff I understand Mineral Springs is in need of a teacher, and I'm here to apply. Mr. Monteigne has been generous enough to escort Daniel and myself. I don't know what would have happened had he not been available when those robbers struck."

"I heard about that. I've got men out now searching for those thieves. That gang has struck once too often lately. When you've had a chance to settle in, I'd like to talk to both of you about what happened. But for now it's good to meet you, Miss Peyton. My name is Alan Powell."

"It's Mrs. Peyton, sheriff. I'm a widow. It's a pleasure to meet you, too. But if you don't mind, I simply must find a room and rest. It's been quite an ordeal."

Tyler watched as the hard-bitten sheriff melted into a puddle of butter before Evie's smallest smile. He didn't want to imagine what would have happened to the man had she turned the full force of those devastating lips on him. He could see the devilment in sloe eyes as she glanced up at him through those long lashes, and he wanted to wring her neck. Mrs. Peyton, the schoolteacher, indeed.

"I'll be back to talk to you in a bit, Powell. I'll see the lady gets settled in first." Appropriating Evie's elbow, Tyler steered her toward the comparative safety of the hotel. He was either going to have to get out of here fast or poke the eyes out of every man in the damned town. It might be easier if he just pulled a sack over Evie's head.

Once they were in the dim light of the lobby, she halted and removed her arm from his possession. She gave him a thoroughly quenching look that he took with a threatening frown.

"You may talk to the sheriff as long as you like, Mr. Monteigne, but unless you explain that scene upstairs, you're now formally off my payroll. I'll not have anything to do with a man who can treat an injured friend so callously."

In the dusky gloom she was a shimmering candle of indignation. Light from the dirty window caught on her chestnut tresses, capturing the strands of auburn he'd noticed that first day. Her sunburned cheeks glowed with ire, and there were even sparks in her eyes. Tyler found it hard to believe that she was the woman he had taken so crudely last night. She was right. He was a jackass.

"As of now, I formally offer my resignation, Miss Peyton." He swung the saddle off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor. "But if you would care to join me wherever they serve food in this godforsaken hole, then I'll be happy to enlighten you."

Evie jumped at the sound of the saddle hitting the floor. Or maybe it was at the light in Tyler's eyes as he offered this offhand invitation. She had been ignoring what had happened between them, but it was obvious he didn't mean to be gentleman enough to forget it. He would never meet the standards of an Ivanhoe.

But the hotel clerk entered then. Evie was starving, and there didn't seem to be anything else she could say while Tyler made arrangements for their rooms and learned the location of the nearest cafe. She had to eat and ladies didn't go to public places alone.

There was time to have second thoughts when the clerk led her to a room with a single large bed and she realized that she wouldn't have Daniel's protection at night. But her trunk was already in here, the warm water was tempting, and her stomach demanded satisfaction. She washed and changed and answered the door when Tyler knocked.

She could feel his eyes assessing the ecru crepe de chine skirt with the lace sacque she had chosen to wear. It was the coolest thing she could find in her trunk, and the lace didn't wrinkle as much as some of her other bodices. As long as she had to wear long sleeves in this weather, she might as well look cool and comfortable. Besides, she liked the blue rosette at the waist and the blue sash that went with it. She gave him a haughty smile when he said nothing.

"Have you no insult to offer over my attire, Mr. Monteigne? Or would you care to throw in a few threats and curses first before we eat? Or perhaps what you need is a good game of cards and a bottle of whiskey. Shall we go in search of them?"

Since they were indoors, Tyler had been politely holding his hat in his hands. Now he jammed it on his head and offered his arm. "It's good to see you again, too, Miss Peyton. Shall we dine?"

Her hand trembled as she took his arm, and with a sigh, he relented. "I'm not wearing my gun Evie. If you so much as smile at a man while wearing that outfit, they're going to be all over you. You don' really want my blood on that pretty lace, do you?"

Evie sent him an uncertain look, but when she saw the laughter in his eyes, she relaxed. Tyler the Charmer was back. She knew how to handle charmers. It was the man behind the charm who terrified her. As long as she didn't have to deal with him, she would do all right.

"Red with blue is vulgar, sir. I'll thank you to keep your fists to yourself, if you would. And I'll more than thank you if you would just feed me. I'm about to expire of hunger."

"More than thank me? I like the sound of that. Let's go."

Laughing, chatting as if they were truly a courting couple, they made their way down the stairs and out into the hot sun. No one looking at them would realize that he was a gambler with an itchy trigger finger and a reputation for winning and that she was a liar and a bastard that no one wanted. They appeared a gentleman and a lady made for each other.

Evie realized her fashionable gown was altogether too elegant for the bare cafe where Tyler led her. A pane of flyspecked glass gave the room light. A glass pitcher of warm beer on the counter added a touch of hospitality. They took seats in wooden chairs at a bare table and were waited on by a youngster in dirty apron and bare feet. The food, however, when it came, was steaming hot and plentiful.

Sometime later, with appetites nearly satiated, they negotiated the uneasy path of conversation.

"You promised explanations," Evie reminded Tyler as he refilled his glass with warm beer.

Tyler sipped the liquid and contemplated the persistent woman seated across from him. He knew she couldn't be much more than twenty, but at that age he had been a man grown. The war did that to people. He wondered what it was that had turned this beautiful child into a woman so young. He'd certainly had a hand in it, but he had only stolen the last vestige of innocence. Evie Peyton hadn't been a true innocent for a long time.

"I have a foul temper," he answered casually.

"I noticed." Evie waited.

Tyler set the glass down and frowned. "What do you want me to say? Ben's my best and only friend. We grew up together. He taught me to fish and ride. He was supposed to be my slave, but he was closer to me than my brothers. They were a lot older and always about their own business. Ben's only business was me."

"So you yell at him when he gets shot?"

Tyler moved uncomfortably in his chair. "He had no business risking his life for anyone. He doesn't even want to be here. He has family back in Natchez."

The door opened and shut behind them, but neither noticed until someone kicked the chair between them. Daniel stumbled over a loose floorboard as Ben draped his long form into the chair.

"Saw the two of you go out. Took you so long to come back, thought maybe we ought to come pry one of you off the ceiling. Pardon us if we're intruding." Ben helped himself to the pitcher and Tyler's glass while Daniel maneuvered into a chair across from him.

Daniel sent Evie a nervous glance, but she ignored it while daintily wiping her fingers on her handkerchief since there seemed a dire dearth of table linens.

"Not at all, Mr. Benjamin." Evie sent Tyler a cold glance. "Since we've never been properly introduced, 1 assume that's the appropriate address?"

"Benjamin Wilkerson the Third, spelled out and not with Roman numerals," Tyler intoned with years of practice. "If there ever was one born to be an upstart darky you found him."

Ben grinned and folded his arms across his chest. "My ma believed I was meant for better things."

Tyler shouted for another pitcher of beer and more glasses. Since they were the only patrons in the place, it shouldn't have been a difficult request, but no one answered his call. With a wry look to Ben, he shrugged and rose. "Excuse me, ladies, gentlemen. I have a bad habit that I'm about to indulge in. Go on without me."

Ben rolled his eyes and looked resigned. Understanding that smoking a cheroot wasn't the habit he had in mind, Evie watched with a degree of nervousness as Tyler headed for the rear of the cafe. She was beginning to learn a few things about Tyler Monteigne, and one of them was the error of considering his casual grace as laziness.

He disappeared into the kitchen, and a moment later there was a loud outburst having to do with "damned niggers" and "not in my place," followed by a slamming noise, the tinkle of broken glassware, and a thump.

A few minutes later Tyler emerged dusting off his frock coat. The young boy who had served them earlier came rushing after him with a tray of beer and glasses. The look on his face was more astonishment than anger, and he set the tray out without a hint of resentment. Giving the table's occupants a look of curiosity, he hurried away without a word.

Tyler settled back into his chair and helped himself to a fresh glass. "Benjamin was his mother's third boy. The other two died early, and both were named Benjamin. She was a damned persistent woman, just like some others I know."

He smiled beatifically at Evie's astounded expression.

She recovered rapidly. "Tyler Monteigne, you are not only a liar, a cheat, and a donkey, but a man of rare perception. You were telling me why you were yelling at Mr. Wilkerson."

Daniel spluttered in his first drink of beer at Evie's famous two- pronged thrust.

Tyler shrugged and held his gaze on her. "I spent three years in a Yankee prison, Miss Peyton. I was seventeen years old when I went in and twenty when I came out. They would have carried me out in a wooden box if it hadn't been for Ben. He found me, joined the Union army, and got himself stationed at the prison until the war was over. He told them he couldn't see well enough to shoot a gun, but he was real good with his fists, and they believed him and put him where he requested. Do you have any idea how difficult that was?"

"And to this day the damned fool thinks I did it for him," Ben grumped as he sipped his beer. "I told you he was real pretty but not too bright."

Tyler grinned. "I'm not so dumb that I don't know you were after my plantation. Thought you almost had it, didn't you?"

Ben shrugged. "Worked well for a while. You were the only one left to inherit and if you had to sell it for back taxes, can't rightly see why it couldn't go to me. That Yankee captain thought my offer was damned funny. Wouldn't have worked if you'd been dead."

Daniel interrupted this obviously rehearsed routine. "You're saying that Tyler had to sell his plantation because of back taxes and Ben bought it? I knew the Freedman's Bureau was saying they were going to give every slave forty acres and forty dollars or some such idiocy but they never did. How can a slave buy a plantation?"

"Ben's a bigger card cheat than I ever was," Tyler said. "He cleaned those Yankee soldiers out for nigh on to three years. The taxes weren't all that much but after being in prison, I didn't have a red cent, and they wouldn't give me time to earn any. The Ridge was too tempting a prize."

"All right. I give up. So what happened? Why isn't Ben running the plantation right now and making you work in the kitchen or something?" Caught up in the story, Evie momentarily forgot her grievances. Ben and Tyler were unlikely companions, but they were as close to friends as she and Daniel had out here. It suddenly struck her that in the dime novels, Pecos Martin always had a sidekick.

It was Ben's turn to shrug. "I didn't have all that much money. All the people who worked the plantation pooled their resources, so we all owned it. That was our down fall: too many chiefs and not any Indians. Everybody wanted to move into the big house and sip lemonade and nobody wanted to work the fields. It was like giving a bunch of children a chance to play dress up. Some of us tried, but the times were against us. I don't know nothin' about cotton. I'm a horse trainer.

"We didn't keep the cotton clean. It got picked too late. And nobody wanted to buy it when we got it to town. Even the Yankee carpetbaggers wouldn't buy from darkies. Not that the crop was much good, but they could have given us something. Tyler had to take it down to New Orleans to unload it. By the time he got back, Dorset had forced the place into auction and bought it himself. He was the military commander by then, and we were still under martial law. There wasn't nothing nobody could do."

"So Ben and I duded ourselves up in fine clothes with the proceeds from the cotton and went to Natchez. End of story."

Tyler shoved his chair back and rose from the table, offering his arm to Evie as he did so. It was evident he didn't mean to express his feelings about the whole situation, and Evie was beginning to think she really didn't want to know. She had evidence enough of what happened when Tyler Monteigne gave vent to his feelings. She wasn't prepared to experience that holocaust again. She took his arm as coolly as he offered it and nodded to Ben.

"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Wilkerson. Don't tell Daniel too many tales; he tends to believe them." As she strolled out on Tyler's arm, she could hear Ben chuckling behind them. She liked to leave men laughing.

She threw Tyler an anxious look. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't even smiling. And he hadn't said anything about going away.

Her stomach knotted as she realized she wasn't certain whether she was better off having him stay and help her find out what happened to her parents or having him go away and never reminding her again of what had happened between them. Both alternatives had an element of danger—was she better off with him or without him?

As they entered the hotel lobby and she disengaged her hand to properly return to her room alone, Tyler answered her questions without their being asked. Catching her hand in a firm grip and fastening her with a steely gaze, he said, "It's your turn, Miss Peyton. I'll have the truth from you before I leave this town. Would you prefer to do it in your room or mine?"