Tucker’s Claim Page 10

  As Sally Mae watched, Tucker shook his head, and Sam smiled in the startling way he had that transformed him from deadly to charming. Tucker said something that Isabella obviously didn’t like. Sally Mae could tell she’d planted her feet, and for anyone else, that would have been the end of the conversation, but Bella’s only weakness was Sam, as evidenced by her reaction when Sam reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Even from where she stood, Sally could see the softening in the other woman’s stance. And for the first time, Sally Mae recognized that something she often saw in Tucker’s expression. Hunger.

  Not hunger for Bella. Sally touched her fingers to the window as her heart twisted, the heat of the glass a pale substitute for the heat of Tucker’s skin. He would never hunger for his best friend’s woman, but hunger for the emotional closeness Bella and Sam shared. She’d never thought of Tucker as a lonely man. That had been selfish. How could he not be lonely? His Indian heritage put him outside most social boundaries. His size earned him some respect, but not enough to truly belong in any world, Indian or white. He didn’t have the freedom to love where he wanted. Didn’t have the option of just making friends. Didn’t have any of the common bonds that allowed people to find common ground.

  Like they’ll come to get thee?

  She realized he’d never answered that question. She wondered if Tucker doubted even the loyalty of Hell’s Eight. Her heart twisted again. How awful for a man to have to live that way. How tempting it would be for such a man to feel God had deserted him. How easy it would be to turn to the solution of a quick fix. There would be solace in the immediate balance of power that one could achieve with one’s fist. Temporary or not, false or not, she could see its appeal for Tucker.

  Outside, the discussion came to an end and, judging from Bella’s posture as she headed for Sally Mae’s house, it had not ended the way the other woman intended. By her side strode Kells, the big wolf dog that had adopted Bella and almost given his life protecting her. A small, curvaceous woman, Bella drew the attention of every male she passed. And just as quickly as every man noticed her, every man whipped around to look back at Sam. Sam had proved himself to be possessive of his fiancée and no one wanted to be on his bad side.

  Only one man didn’t look away and didn’t look toward Sam. Sally Mae bit her lip. Lyle. He had the potential to be trouble for more than just her. She’d heard rumors that his forward ways with women could be more than just talk, but without proof she was obligated to give him the benefit of the doubt. But after having him in her house, Sally Mae suspected the rumors could be true. Thank goodness Bella had Sam.

  In this land, a woman’s only protection was the strength of the man who guarded her. Sam had a deadly reputation. Six months ago when Bella had been kidnapped by Tejala, it had been made clear to all in the territory that nothing came between Sam and his Bella. Plenty of men might have distanced themselves from Bella after her ordeal, but when Sam had brought Bella home, she’d been in his arms and, despite her bruised and battered appearance, she’d been smiling. Sally Mae’s respect for Sam had gone up because of it.

  Yes, Sam loved his Bella, and if Lyle acted on the thoughts Sally suspected he harbored, he was courting an ugly death. The thought should bother her. It didn’t. More proof that she was changing. And not for the better.

  Sally Mae wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Lyle’s focus. Sam pulled his hat down and took two steps toward Lyle. Tucker reached out, his bare biceps rippling in the morning light as he placed his palm in the middle of Sam’s chest and stopped him cold. Sam wasn’t a small man by any means. Tucker was just that strong as to make the effort of stopping him seem inconsequential. A trill of pride went through Sally, followed just as quickly by a trill of alarm as Tucker strode to where Lyle stood in front of the saloon. For a big man, Tucker could move silently. Lyle, still watching Bella, became aware of his presence too late. He turned just in time to take Tucker’s fist in his face.

  Sally smothered her cry with a hand over mouth. Though there was no way he could have heard, Tucker looked directly at her. She couldn’t see his eyes under the brim of his hat, but his mouth was set to a straight line of disapproval. One of Lyle’s friends came up. Tucker had a few words with him. The man looked at her house before nodding, grabbed Lyle by the arm and dragged him back into the saloon.

  Obviously, Tucker told the man not to bring Lyle to her. If it had been any potential patient but Lyle, she would have taken Tucker to task, but truth be told, the last couple days of his recovery, Lyle had been making her uncomfortable. No matter what her beliefs preached, she didn’t want him back in her house.

  Bella might be fortunate to have Sam’s reputation to protect her, but Sally’s husband was dead. She had only her usefulness to protect her. She was the closest thing the town had to a doctor, and that gave her some value, but apparently not enough to quell prejudice. Right after her husband had died, the townsfolk, men included, seemed to watch out for her, but in the past few months that attitude had been changing. Women had started asking delicately about her “plans” and men had started looking at her with something more than pity. Quaker or not, the message she was getting from the town’s citizens was clear. Her time of mourning was over.

  It wasn’t so different from what would’ve occurred back in her own community. The difference was there were no Quakers here in Lindos, no one who believed as she did. She and Jonah had expected more Friends to arrive as time went on. Part of Jonah’s purpose in coming west was to found a new community for them to expand into, but then he’d died, and everything had changed. Including the way she saw things. Sally bit her lip as Bella reached the gate. She was a woman alone in a barely civilized town whose illusion of protection was slipping. She would have to make a decision soon. She looked at Tucker and her heart wrenched. She released the curtains, letting them fall between them.

  Please, Lord, give me the strength.

  Bella reached the porch. Motioning for Kells to stay, she climbed the steps with a lively bounce that projected her personality accurately. There was no pretense with Bella. Bella knocked. Crockett barked and the crates she’d put across the kitchen doorway scraped across the floor. Sally Mae opened the door, forcing her bleak thoughts aside.

  “Good morning to thee, friend.”

  Bella smiled and reached down and petted Crockett, who came bounding up. “Would you be willing to offer me sanctuary?”

  “From what do thee seek shelter?”

  She made a face. “The stupidity of men.” Without looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Is Sam still watching?”

  Sally Mae glanced over Bella’s shoulder. “Yes.”

  “Rats. Always, he ruins my plans.”

  “Thee have plans?”

  “Yes.”

  Sally Mae caught Crockett’s makeshift collar before he could dart out the door. “Thee had better come in.”

  “Sí.” Bella nodded, sending the feather on her hat bobbing, a wry smile on her lips. “It is probably best.” She unfastened her hat and removed it, then announced, “I am displeased with Sam.”

  Crockett whined, his attention on that tempting feather. “Thee might want to put that up high,” Sally suggested.

  “Or I could just let one of us have a little fun.” Bella tossed the hat to Crockett, who pounced on it immediately. She waved away Sally Mae’s dismay. “Sam hates that hat.”

  Sally let Crockett go. With fierce puppy growls, he shook and tossed the hat. “I thought thee were mad at him?”

  “I am, but not to the point I want him blinded.”

  At Sally’s blank stare, she explained, “The feather keeps poking him in the eye.”

  “Thee could just replace it with something else.”

  Bella grinned. “Sam will enjoy the telling of this more. He very much hates that hat and has promised it much worse.”

  Sally Mae envied Bella her confidence when it came to Sam. “So thee are mad at him, but not that mad?”

  �
��I make no sense, do I?”

  “Not really.”

  Bella sighed. “Sam rides out with Tucker.”

  “Thee don’t approve?”

  “It is more that I worry. I know Tucker and Sam are skilled, but I fear that this is the time they won’t pay the attention they should and…” Her explanation ended on a shrug. “It would be better if I were with him.”

  “Thee can’t go with him. Thee could be hurt.”

  Bella flipped her braid back over her shoulder and glared across the street. “This was Sam’s argument. As if it is better that he is injured than I.”

  What was she supposed to say to that? “He’s a Ranger. He has years of experience.”

  Bella sighed and shook her head. “This is also his argument, but it is not fair that I must be always the one who waits.”

  Sally Mae could understand the frustration behind the argument. Every time Tucker left, she lived with her heart in her throat until he returned. “Thee must have faith.”

  Bella dismissed that with a snort. “Faith I have, but Sam takes risks, believes himself invincible.”

  “Sam is a smart man.”

  “Yes, very clever, and sometimes he forgets I am clever, too.” She ran her hand over her hair. “You saw how he brushed my cheek with his fingers?”

  Sally Mae nodded.

  “He promised me that he’d come home.” She threw up her hands. “As if that is a promise he can keep.”

  “He doesn’t want thee to worry.”

  Bella turned to face her, a small frown between her big brown eyes. “Are you not afraid for Tucker?”

  As hard as she tried, Sally Mae didn’t think she’d successfully hid her start. “It’s not the same.”

  Bella’s frown lifted, to be replaced with speculation. Sally Mae would have preferred the frown. “If not, it will soon be. There is much between you two. I saw it the first time we met, and it has just grown stronger.”

  Dear God, were they that obvious to everyone? “Thee are imagining things.”

  “This you would like to think, but I know magic when I see it.”

  Magic. Yes, it did feel like that when Tucker touched her. “I think I liked it better when thee were mad at Sam.”

  “Rather than speculating on you and Tucker?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will change the topic.” Bella sighed and pushed the curtain aside so she could see out. “At least Tracker and Shadow ride with them.”

  All Sally Mae could see was a rear view of a tall man dressed in black. He had the broad shoulders and lean hips of a man who was used to hard work and long hours on horseback. The long, black hair that fell down his back marked him as likely Indian. “Tracker and Shadow?”

  “They are Hell’s Eight and, to my eyes, the scariest of the men.”

  “I’ve heard Caine Allen is the scariest. A very possessive man and vengeful when what he regards as his is threatened.”

  “This I will have to see to believe. But I believe it will be hard to find men scarier than Tracker or Shadow. They have much anger inside. Much like my Sam had.”

  “Had?”

  Bella grinned. “I have given him love. It is a better anchor.”

  It was such a Quaker thing to say. “Are thee sure thee are not a Friend?”

  “Of course, I am your friend. I have been since we met those months ago.”

  “I meant Quaker.”

  “No, I am not, but maybe you are Catolica?”

  Bella’s grin invited Sally to smile back. She did, but shook her head. “No.”

  “No matter. My Sam has a saying. It is a good one. There are many roads to the same place. The choice we make depends on how hard we want to work to get there.”

  “Are thee saying I chose a difficult path?”

  “I am saying it does not matter to me which path you take. In the end, I know we will be at the same place. This is all that matters.”

  Sally Mae looked out the window again. The men were talking. From their stances, the discussion was a serious one. “So they’re all going together to hunt Billy’s killer?”

  “You do not think the men of Hell’s Eight would let Tucker go alone, do you?”

  She didn’t know. She knew Tucker as lover and protector. She didn’t know more because she hadn’t wanted to know more. She’d wanted there to be a distance between them for the simple reasons she didn’t want to care about anything enough to get hurt. The look Bella gave her reflected the disappointment she felt in herself. She had not been fair to Tucker. Or to herself. “No.”

  “Hell’s Eight are as loyal as the vaqueros de Montoya are. It is said they came out of hell bonded to each other in a devil’s pact.”

  “Do you believe this?”

  Bella shook her head. “I know what happened to their town was terrible. I know they almost died afterward with no adults to provide, and I know they grew strong enough to take vengeance, but not in any of them have I seen evil. Just—” she sighed “—such sadness mixed with incredible strength.”

  Sally knew about the sadness. She’d seen it in Tucker’s face often enough. “They’re good men.”

  “Who have lived a hard life,” Bella interjected. “Do not expect from them the placid reactions of other men.”

  “No. I don’t. Not anymore.”

  The men went into the saloon. Out of sight. Bella let the curtain drop and turned. Sally stepped back.

  “You have found this out for yourself, sí?”

  Sally Mae smiled weakly. It was useless to keep up the pretense. “Yes.”

  “They are overwhelming, these men, in their determination to get their way.”

  “Yes.”

  Bella cocked her head to the side. “And very hard to resist, maybe.”

  Sally Mae sighed. “Very.”

  Bella tugged her skirt free of Crockett’s teeth. “You do not want Tucker to go, either, do you?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “But for more reason than fear, I think.”

  Bella was very perceptive. “The only thing killing on top of killing will bring is more killing.”

  Crockett dove back in with fierce mock growls. “Sometimes killing is necessary.”

  Sally Mae caught him by the collar. “I believe in peace.”

  “No matter what?”

  Sally nodded. Bella whistled. “You are a stronger woman than I.”

  “It’s a matter of faith.”

  “God helps those who help themselves.”

  There were plenty of times she’d helped herself. “Because I don’t believe in violence doesn’t make me a doormat.”

  “To most, it would.”

  “Then most would be wrong.”

  Bella folded her arms across her ample chest. “I think I like you very much, Sally Mae with the unpronounceable last name.”

  Sally chuckled and let Crockett go. “Thee have been talking to Tucker.”

  “He much enjoys teasing you.”

  “He enjoys a lot of unhealthy things.”

  Bella nodded. “Yes, he does. You must cure him of this.”

  “Why is that my job?”

  With a suspiciously innocent expression, Bella pointed out, “You are the healer.”

  So she was. “I think he’s incurable.”

  The other woman’s expression lost some of its innocence. “I think you must try.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he has waited all his life for you.”

  Oh, darn. She was saved from having to answer when Crockett whined and circled at her feet.

  “Excuse me, I have to take him outside.”

  Scooping Crockett up, she hurried to the back door, frowning at him once again as she took in the state of her kitchen and put him down. He immediately squatted, watching them with anticipation in his eyes. Crockett loved to be praised.

  As he was finishing, Sally Mae said, “Good boy.” He practically vibrated with impatience as he finished up before bounding over to them, all wiggles
and joy.

  He reached Bella as she stepped off the porch. She knelt down as he leaned against her. Lifting his outrageously long ears, she kissed the end of his nose. “You are very cute.”

  Crockett took the compliment as his due, leaning harder against her, the skin under his eyes sagging farther as he angled for more attention.

  “What is his name?”

  “Crockett.”

  Bella looked over her shoulder at the disaster that used to be Sally’s kitchen. “I think it should be Trouble.”

  “I should’ve taken Tucker’s penchant for directness into consideration when I agreed to watch him, but he looked so cute and innocent—how could I believe he was capable of such mischief?”

  “There is much more to Tucker than you see. He has a wicked sense of humor.”

  Sally was beginning to get that impression. “So I’ve been learning.”

  A disturbance around the corner caught her attention. From where she stood, she could see down the alley to the main Street. Sam, Tucker and two men she assumed were Shadow and Tracker walked down the street. The two strangers had similar muscular builds with dark hair flowing from under their hats. Even from here she could sense the leashed violence they emanated. Trouble. Where those two went, trouble swarmed. Sally knew it in her gut. And they were riding with Tucker and Sam. That couldn’t be good.

  Her dismay must have shown in her face, because Bella put her hand on her arm. “They will be all right.”

  Sally had seen too much death to believe such platitudes. “Thee cannot know.”

  Hooking her arm through Sally’s, Bella sighed. “Then we will go talk to someone who will know.”

  “A fortune-teller?”

  Bella rolled her eyes. “Your God.”

  “What makes thee think He’s talking to me right now?”

  “I am not sure He is talking to me, either, but it cannot hurt to ‘bend his ear’ as Sam says.”

  “I’m not Catholic.”

  Bella’s smile gave her a lush beauty. “That is okay, I do not think the town has either church.” She touched Sally’s arm. “I wish to pray for Sam. Would you not like to pray for Tucker?”