The Invitation (Montgomery/Taggert 19)

She didn’t seem to realize that he was being sarcastic because she said, “Excuse me,” turned her back to him, pulled up her skirt, and removed a leather wallet from where it had been secreted in a hidden pocket, then turned back and handed it to him.

At first he didn’t know what she had given him, and when he peered at it in the dim light, she went to the window and sent the shade flying upward. Cole had to bite down on a comment that his eyesight was perfectly all right, in spite of the fact that she’d said nothing about his inability to read in the dark room.

“What is this?” he asked sharply.

“My train ticket.”

“I can see that, but this is to Waco, Texas, and just what is this devil’s list?” To his disgust his voice rose on the last few words. Stuck to the top of the ticket was a list of every desperate, dangerous, cutthroat, rob-his-own-mother criminal it had ever been his misfortune to meet. In fact he’d shot one of them.

“What have you got to do with these men? And why is this ticket to Waco? Why aren’t you going home to wherever it is you live?”

“I am going to Waco because I hope to find the Waco Kid there.”

Cole started to speak, then collapsed and let his head fall back against the pillow. “Would you mind telling me what you want with a dog-eating killer like the Waco Kid?” But before she could answer, he turned to her, eyes blazing. “You don’t mean to offer to marry him, do you?” he sputtered.

“Of course,” she said calmly.

“Somebody ought to lock you up, you know that? Somebody ought to protect you from yourself. Do you know anything about the men on this list?”

“Since I received my sister’s letter telling of her impending visit, I’ve had time to research only you, Mr. Hunter. In spite of the fear you seem to engender in some people, those you helped had only good words to say about you. I assumed there were others like you.”

“You mean that you think that all gunslingers have a heart of gold?” He hadn’t meant to say it quite like that, implying that he had a heart of gold, but he would be damned if he’d take his words back once they were out.

“I can’t very well think that a man who makes his living with a gun has any heart at all. But that is between you and the Creator. You will have to answer to Him, not to me.”

“Lady,” Cole said through clenched teeth, “you can insult a man until he doesn’t know which end of him is up. It’s a good thing you weren’t born a man or you wouldn’t have lived past twenty. Now tell me what you’re planning to do with this list of names.”

“I hardly think that is any of your business, Mr. Hunter. All I owe you is an apology and…and this.” She held out a little leather bag, and by the weight and clink of it, he knew it was full of gold coins. When he did not extend his hand to take the bag, she set it on the table beside the bed. “What has happened to you is my fault, and I like to pay my debts. I doubt that a man like you has saved anything for a rainy day, so the money will enable you to live until you are again able to shoot people. I cannot bear to think of you living on the street or in the forest because of me.”

Once again she had rendered Cole speechless. It was true that he’d never saved a penny. Why should he when in his line of work he never knew whether he was going to be alive from one day to the next? Never mind that in the last year he had begun to get sick of sleeping on the ground and to yearn for a bed of his own. In fact, he’d recently started to want to own things, like a chair that fit his body. And maybe he’d like to have a place to keep more than the two shirts that were all he’d ever had in his life.

It didn’t matter that what she was saying was the truth, he didn’t want to hear it. “I can assure you, miss, that I can take care of myself.” He knew that the best defense was to attack, so he held up her list of outlaws. If she’d worked at it, she couldn’t have prepared a more horrible roster.

He pointed to the first name on the list. There was nastiness in his tone when he spoke. “This man shoots people in the back of the head. You let him in the house and he’ll steal everything you own and leave you dead. This next one is in prison; this third one is dead.” He moved his finger down the list. “This one: dead. Dead. Prison. Hanged. I killed this one yesterday in the bank.” He raised his eyebrows in an I-told-you-so look. “This one is meaner ’n a snake. This one was shot six months ago for cheating at cards. No. No. Where did you get this list? Did you copy it from wanted posters?”

“For most of them I just asked some of the ladies in town who were the most exciting men they had ever met.”

“Ladies?” he asked. “Do they by chance live in the house next door to the Golden Garter Saloon?”

“Yes, they do,” she said seriously.

“Someone should protect you from yourself. Why don’t you go home and let your sister choose a husband for yo

u? Unless she drags a man off the gallows, she can’t do worse than these men. You can’t let any of these men into your rich house.”

Slowly, with no expression on her face, she took the ticket and the list from him. “You are, of course, right. Besides, my sister would never believe that a man would marry me for any reason except money, so my search is rather useless anyway.” She looked down at her hands, tugging at her gloves that helped cover every inch of her skin below the neck. On her head was perched the most awful little hat; it made him wonder if she’d found it in a missionary barrel.

“Oh, hell,” he muttered under his breath. This bland little woman with a tongue that could slice steel was getting under his skin. “You’re not so bad,” he heard himself saying. “I’ll bet that if you wore some bright colors and a hat with a blue feather in it you’d be pretty. Any man would be glad to have you. Why, I’ve seen women so ugly the birds fly away in horror, but they were married and had those six kids hanging on to their skirts.”

She gave him a little half smile. “How very kind you are, Mr. Hunter, but I can’t even buy a husband.” Before he could say anything, her head came up. “Thank you so much for everything, sir. I appreciate it. I understand even better now why people love my sister so much. It is quite…thrilling to be on the receiving side of heroism. It makes a person feel valuable to have someone risk his life to save you.” She had never sat down during this time, and, as before, she had left the door open the prescribed six inches. Now she walked to the door; then, her hand on the knob, she turned back toward him. As he watched, a look of surprise came over her face, and when it did, in that instant when she wasn’t guarded, didn’t have her features under iron control, she was almost pretty. Quickly, and giving in to an impulse that he was sure she rarely felt, much less obeyed, she walked back to the bed, bent forward and kissed his cheek. Then she was gone, as silently as she had come.

Chapter Three

Damn it to hell and back!” Cole swore under his breath, or at least he thought he swore quietly. In fact, his cussing was so loud and so lusty that his landlady opened the door and came into his room. She was a widow who had inherited the house on the death of her husband, and even though she had had many offers, she wanted nothing to do with another husband. She’d told Cole that she was happy having men to talk to but not having them kicking her in bed at night.

“What is wrong now?” she asked in that tone of a woman who had been married for a long time and had decided that there was little difference between children and men.

“Nothing I need any help with,” he spat out, his back to her. He was completely embarrassed that he couldn’t seem to button his shirt, much less his trousers, with his right arm in a cast and a sling. And on top of the awkwardness of using his left hand, it hurt like a son of a gun.