Part 9 (2/2)

”Then that's where you're going wrong.”

”Maybe.” Soft lips curled in a speculative grin. ”Could we try it again, Zee, so I can be sure?”

”Don't see why not.”

Five minutes of leisurely and increasingly expert kissing later, Christie said, ”You know, I'm really glad I came looking for you.”

”Me too.”

And five minutes after that, ”But what are we going to do about Fred?”

”Don't worry, darlin'. We'll think of something.”

Chapter 12.

Zee was unb.u.t.toning Christie's dress when the knock came at the door.

”Go away,” she growled. ”I'm busy.” The third b.u.t.ton came free, and she peeled back the gingham.

Christie whimpered, and Zee smiled into dilated pupils.

”Easy, darlin'.” She cupped a corseted breast. ”I'll have you outta there in a tick.”

The knock came again . . . louder.

”Brodie.” It was Angie's voice; she didn't sound amused. ”There are two men downstairs for you. They say they're here on sheriff's business. Oblige me by seeing to them at once . . . they're deterring our customers.”

Zee dropped her chin onto her chest and groaned. Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand. ”Hold that thought.” She kissed Christie, then pulled back and rolled off the bed.

”Hold your horses, Angie.” It was lucky she had kept her Levi's on. The check s.h.i.+rt was still on the dresser where she had flung it, and she reached for it. ”I'll be right there.”

She was still b.u.t.toning her s.h.i.+rt as she eased out of the room, careful to hide the interior and the half-undressed Christie from pry-ing eyes . . . unnecessarily as it turned out. Angie had better things to do than wait around. Grumbling under her breath and settling her gun belt over her hips, Zee made her way along the corridor and down the stairs to the salon.

In other circ.u.mstances it would have made her laugh. The two men waiting with their backs to her beneath the chandelier could have been plague carriers judging by the distance separating them from the wh.o.r.es. Zee wasn't quite sure who despised whom more.

65.

As the women glanced up at her and smiled, the men became aware of her too and turned.

”Deputy Brodie?” said the taller one, a fair-haired man with ears like jug handles. ”We were just over at the jail looking for Sheriff Hogan. Saw your note directing us here. There's been a train robbery.”

”You!” spat the other, a fas.h.i.+onably dressed young man with a Vand.y.k.e beard.

Zee blinked. ”Afternoon, Mr. Younger.” She wondered if Fred had any idea that his fiancee was upstairs in her bed. Probably not.

Both men smelled of sweat, and alkali dust had streaked their clothes and faces white. ”Train robbery?” she asked. ”What happened?”

”They were waiting for us at the water tank stop. About thirty miles northwest of here,” said Jug Ears.

It sounded like Pantano, which strictly speaking was out of Cochise County jurisdiction. Zee gave a mental shrug. ”Who were?”

”Six men on horseback. They had guns, rifles . . . threatened the pa.s.sengers and crew. Told us if we tried anything . . .” He threw up his hands. ”They uncoupled the locomotive and express car and left us stranded.”

Zee nodded. ”So how did you two get back here, Mr.?”

”Comstock,” he supplied. ”Fortunately, there was a railroad pump car by the water tank. Mr. Younger here wanted to use it to pursue the locomotive, but the rest of us thought it would be more prudent to fetch help.”

They were right. ”Anyone hurt?”

”The engineer. They knocked him out. I couldn't say about the messenger. Locked himself inside the express car. Still inside, last I saw.”

”Uh huh.”

Christie's fiance was regarding Zee's feet with disdain, and she glanced down. Her big toe was poking through the hole in her sock.

”So who drove the locomotive?” she continued, ignoring him.

”One of the gang,” said Comstock.

”Never mind all that,” said Fred. ”They've got my s.h.i.+pment of silver, and I want to know what are you going to do about it.”

She ran a hand through her hair. ”Well, first, I'm gonna get my boots.”

66.

He opened his mouth then closed it again.

”And, second, I'm gonna get me a horse and some guns and ammunition.” She glanced at the two men. ”If you want to rejoin your train, you'd better borrow some horses. Either that or,” she glanced at their blistered palms, ”take the pump car back out.”

”Livery stable?” prompted Comstock at once.

She gave him an approving glance. ”Out the front door. Turn left.

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