Her Bodyguard Page 9

  Mari marveled at his ease. The man had just lied to a nun—not just any nun, but the nun—then drifted off to sleep like an innocent. Even in the worst of her Menace days, she’d never worn guilt so easily. It was something she’d do well to remember as she traveled with Luke Garrett.

  Mari shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She took one deep breath, then two, and willed herself to relax. She was on the train, on the way to San Antonio. On the way to find her sister. She could do nothing more about anything until they arrived at their destination. In the meantime, she should follow Garrett’s example and rest and conserve her resources.

  Weariness tugged at her bones, the result of overtaxed emotions and very little sleep. Though the letter had arrived in yesterday’s post, she hadn’t opened it until half past eleven. After absorbing the shock, pondering the possibilities, she’d awakened Emma and they’d discussed possible courses of action until the wee hours of the morning. Even after she’d climbed into bed and switched off the lamp, sleep remained elusive as her blood hummed with excitement. She’d dozed until dawn, then watched the sun rise with a heart overflowing with hope.

  Mari turned her face toward the warm, though welcome, breeze streaming through the open windows and smiled. She shut her eyes and relaxed into the gentle sway of the railroad car, lulled by the constant click of the wheels on the track and the soft murmur of voices reciting the familiar prayers of the rosary.

  Somewhere south of Fort Worth, Mari fell asleep.

  SOMEWHERE NORTH of Waco, Luke awoke with his arm around Mari McBride’s shoulder, his hand cupping her ample breast. Her head rested against his chest, and the heady scent of roses teased his senses. After a moment’s thoughtful consideration, he decided not to move. He couldn’t risk waking her. The poor woman obviously needed her rest.

  Damn, but he was noble.

  Luke looked out the window into the setting sun and tried to pinpoint their location. He’d journeyed this way often enough during the past five years that he felt he knew every mesquite tree and cotton field along the way. The road between Fort Worth and San Antone was well traveled both by those with legitimate interests and those attempting to stay one step ahead of the law.

  Luke had made the trip under both circumstances.

  Miss Mari made a little sniffle and burrowed deeper into his chest. Luke took a moment to appreciate the sensation of holding a true lady against him, and tried to recall the last time he’d had his arms around a virtuous woman.

  Then, because he was anything but virtuous, Luke flexed his fingers and tested the pillowed softness of her breast. The globe seemed to swell against his hand. His fingers itched to delve into her bodice and touch her skin to skin. Hell, she’s a sweet little thing.

  Her eyes flew open and her chin dropped in shock. Quickly, because he was no idiot, Luke shut his eyes and feigned sleep.

  Damned if she didn’t hesitate—just for a moment— before moving his hand and ducking out from beneath him.

  Luke made a show of waking up, then he gave her a casual glance. She sat prim as a spinster, her shoulders squared, her hands folded in her lap. He wanted to lean over and bite her neck.

  Whoa, there, Garrett. You need to put a lid on your lust. He’d be hanged if he’d treat this girl the way his brother had undoubtedly treated her sister.

  “Where are we?” he asked, even though he knew they’d be coming up on the little town of Trickling Springs in half an hour or so.

  “I don’t know. I fell asleep.”

  “Hmm…” Luke flipped open his pocket watch and checked the time. “I expect we’ll reach a meal stop before long. We’ll have forty-five minutes.”

  “Good. I want to use the time to check the marriage registry in the local churches. If Kat took the train out of town that night, Trickling Springs would be the first place they stopped.”

  Luke knew her effort would be a waste of time. She wouldn’t find any evidence of a marriage between her sister and his brother. However, if he told her so, she’d want to know why and he didn’t want to get into that. Not if he could help it. Luke tried another tack. “That evening train wouldn’t have come through town until late. Churches would have been closed.”

  “Believe me, under the circumstances, that wouldn’t have stopped my sister.”

  Luke thought about it, nodded. He couldn’t see what such an exercise would hurt, not as long as it didn’t cost him his supper. “So, what did you bring us to eat?”

  “Fried chicken.”

  “Yeah?” Luke eyed her wicker satchel with interest. “What else?”

  “Potato salad. Green tomato pickles. Some nice Parker County peaches. Candy for dessert, of course.”

  “Candy? What kind of candy?”

  She offered him a dry smile. “I’m a chocolatier, Mr. Garrett.”

  “Kisses? Sinfuls? Maybe some Temptations?” Suddenly starved, Luke reached for the satchel. The confounding woman slapped the back of his hand. “Not yet. We’ll eat after the stop.”

  “But I’m hungry now.”

  She laughed. “You sound just like my little brothers. Here.” She reached into the basket and pulled out a pair of peaches. Handing him one, she said, “This will tide you over.”

  Then she bit into her fruit, and Luke’s hunger dropped from his belly south.

  As a rule, peaches from Parker County were plump, juicy and sweet. A person could hardly eat one without getting a little messy. Mari McBride got more than a little messy.

  Peach nectar coated her fingers, glistened on her lush red lips, beaded at the corners of her mouth. Flesh from the fruit clung to her full lower lip. Her tongue flicked out and licked it away.

  Luke almost groaned aloud.

  She glanced at him, all innocent and virginal. “I thought you were hungry? Don’t you care for peaches?”

  “I love peaches. I’m just…savoring the moment.”

  She gave him a curious look, then continued with her snack. Luke’s denim britches grew uncomfortably tight and he decided right then and there that he’d gone too long without a woman. While he didn’t ordinarily consort with whores, he suspected that by the time this train hit San Antone, he’d be ready for a cowboy four-get: get up, get in, get off, get out.

  Finally, she finished her peach. When she sucked the ends of her fingers one by one, Luke decided to stretch his legs. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to stroll through the other cars, check out the other passengers. If the train arrives at Trickling Springs before I get back, you wait here for me.”

  She opened her mouth as if to protest, then obviously thought better of it. Luke marched down the aisle as if he had a demon at his heels.

  In truth, he had a nun nipping at his boots.

  Sister Gonzaga caught him on the landing. “Mr. Garrett?”

  Great. Now he’d catch hell for lusting after an angel. “Yes?”

  “I require a moment of your time. While you were sleeping, I desired exercise so I walked to the other end of the train. Considering the information you shared earlier, I believe you might be interested in someone seated in the third passenger car from the back.”

  No scolding? That was disconcerting. “Who’s on board?”

  “Finn Murphy.”

  Luke’s pulse spiked. “Who?”

  “Also, Kid Carver. Frank DeBuque and Hoss Ketchum. Clay Burrows and Harry Mortimer.”

  “That’s the entire Brazos Valley gang.” She had to be mistaken. How would a nun recognize the Brazos Valley gang? “What makes you think it’s them?”

  “I periodically make a study of wanted posters, which is why I should have recognized you right off, even though your poster is dated and shows you sporting a mustache. At times our charitable work takes us to unsavory places, and I think it’s important that one always remains aware of potential dangers.”

  That made sense. Come to think of it, Luke recalled seeing a nun’s habit upon occasion down in the Acre.

  He glanced toward the front of the train. The Br
azos Valley gang. All together in one spot. Good Lord, the law had been after them for years. They were near the top of the wanted list for everyone from Pinkerton to Wells Fargo to, yes, the Texas Rangers. More importantly, Luke had a personal score to settle with Finn Murphy. A very personal, very serious score.

  One he couldn’t ignore.

  “Thanks for the information, Sister,” he told her, tipping his hat as she prepared to return to her seat. Now he’d have to decide what to do with it.

  A stroll through the car in question wasn’t a good option. Murphy would take one look at him and go for his gun. Yet, Luke should make certain Sister Gonzaga had her facts right before he made a plan of action. He needed to see inside that car, preferably before they reached Trickling Springs.

  A diversion was in order.

  He didn’t want to do anything that might endanger the other passengers, so that limited his choices. What he needed was…an assistant.

  “Yeah,” he murmured. A blue-eyed, blond-haired, sashaying-hips assistant.

  Quickly, Luke formulated his plan, then returned to his seat where he found Mari making notes in a journal. He slipped his gun belt from his travel bag and strapped it on. Giving Sister Gonzaga a significant look, he requested the loan of her suitcase. Then he picked up both his and Mali’s satchels and the picnic basket saying, “Mari, I need you to follow me.”

  “What? Hey, wait. Where are you going with our supper?”

  He glanced over his shoulder to see her scooting out of her seat. Burdened by the bags, he kept going, making his way through one car, then another. He heard her call his name, but he kept on going.

  Finally, he stopped at the vestibule outside the car where, according to the nun, the Brazos Valley gang had seats. Mari was only seconds behind him. Her blue eyes snapped with temper. “Luke, what are you doing?”

  “I need your help.”

  Surprise supplanted irritation. “My help?”

  “I need to get a look at someone inside this car, but it won’t do for them to identify me. I intend to walk up the aisle using these cases to shield my face. I’d like you to walk ahead of me and do whatever you can to draw the passengers’ attention so no one pays me much mind. I’d rather not go all the way through the car, because then we’ll be stuck at the back of the train. When I see who I need to see, I’ll nudge you and turn around, and then you follow me. Will you do that?”

  “Who is this person?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  Mari folded her arms. The booted foot peeking from beneath her skirt began to tap. “I realize we’re just getting to know one another. However, you will be well served to understand that dismissing my question in such a manner is not the way to secure my cooperation. Now, let’s try it again, shall we? Who is this person?”

  Troublesome bit of baggage. If she expected him to explain himself every time he turned around, she had another think coming. Yet, now was not the time to point that fact out to her, not when he needed her help. Nor was it time to be truthful. Finn Murphy was a cagey son of a bitch, and the last thing Luke needed was for Mari McBride to say or do something that might cause the outlaw to realize he’d been spotted.

  “It’s a woman, isn’t it?” she concluded, interest lighting her eyes. “Who is she? An old lover? What makes you think she might be on the train? Why don’t you want her to see you?”

  After a significant pause, he followed her lead. “Please, it’s painful for me.”

  “Oh.” Sympathy softened her eyes. She reached out and touched his arm. “I understand.”

  Surprisingly, Luke felt a twinge of guilt for this particular lie considering her recent romantic troubles, but he shook it off. “She may be traveling with a man. About ten years older than me.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty. Now, this fellow has a full head of gray hair. In a suit, he looks distinguished. He’s the one I’m curious about”

  “Someone safe, then. You were her love, but you’re dangerous.” Apparently satisfied by her conclusions, Mari folded her arms and thoughtfully tapped a finger against her mouth. “Well, then. You want me to draw attention to myself. How best to go about it? Hmm…back in our Menace days, this part always went to Kat. She’s always harbored a love for drama.”

  Luke would bet that if Mari’s sister did the acting, Mari wrote the script. “I don’t care how you do it. Let’s just get it done. We’ll be arriving in Trickling Springs before too long.” He wanted to be ready with a plan by that time.

  “All right.” She brushed her hands together. “Don your boxes, Mr. Garrett, and let’s proceed.”

  Luke tugged his hat low on his head, then stacked Mari’s picnic basket and satchel on top of Sister Gonzaga’s suitcase, and hoisted them into his arms, effectively concealing his face. “After you.”

  Mari opened the door, lifted her chin and sailed into the car. “Come along, Virgil,” she said in a sharp, shrill tone. “I refuse to share a passenger car with that woman one minute more. I know she’s your mother, but honestly, how dare she claim you’d rather eat her fried chicken than mine? Everyone knows I make the best fried chicken in Wichita County. Why, haven’t I won the blue ribbon three years in a row?”

  Peering around the boxes in his arms, Luke surveyed the left side of the passenger car. Many of the women had turned to look at Mari. The men paid her little mind. He couldn’t see faces to identify Murphy or any of the Brazos Valley gang.

  As Luke shifted to peruse the passengers on the right side of the train, Mari raised both the volume and pitch of her voice. “And if that isn’t enough, how dare she make such a critical comment regarding the size of my bosom? I’m not ashamed of being generously endowed!”

  Every head in the place twisted around to take a gander at Mari McBride’s endowments. Luke immediately spied Kid Carver and Harry Mortimer. A quick glance back to the left revealed Hoss Ketchum seated next to Finn, himself. So, Sister Gonzaga was right. Careful to keep his burden balanced, Luke turned and retraced his steps. Pay attention, Mari.

  “I think your mother is a mean, old, jealous biddy,” Mari continued, continuing up the aisle. “She doesn’t like it that you’re sweet on me. She doesn’t—Virgil? Virgil! Where are you going? Come back here.”

  He managed to step out onto the platform without tipping his burden. Through the opened doorway, he heard Mari exclaim, “Well, of all the nerve!”

  A man near the back of the car drawled, “Guess he’s run back to his mama. Here, dumplin’. Why don’t you share my seat with me. I’ll be happy to—” slap “—yeow!”

  “Villain,” she snapped, then let Luke know she was following him by calling, “Virgil? Virgil!”

  Deciding it prudent to put some space between himself and the Brazos Valley gang, Luke backtracked through two more cars before stopping to wait for Mari. He set down the suitcases, then rummaged through the picnic basket. He took his first bite from a chicken leg just before Mari stepped out onto the platform.

  It required conscious effort for Luke to keep his eyes from dropping to her…endowments. Looking at her face proved distracting enough. Her blue eyes sparkled and color painted her cheeks. Her beauty shone like morning dew on spring green grass. She’d obviously enjoyed her stint on stage.

  Noting the raided picnic basket, she sent him a chastising look. Luke swallowed, held up the chicken leg and said, “I’ll be sure to tell Mama how good this was.”

  She grinned. “Blue ribbon.”

  This time, he couldn’t keep his attention from dipping below her shoulders. Definitely blue ribbon.

  “She was the beautiful redhead halfway down on the right side, wasn’t she?” Mari asked as he concentrated on finishing his snack.

  “Hmm?”

  “The woman wearing green who sat next to the banker. Was she your, um, old friend?”

  After thinking a moment, Luke recalled the redhead sitting next to Kid Carver. So Mari thought Carver looked like a banker. Considering his occupation,
that assumption wasn’t far from wrong.

  “I don’t know the redhead,” Luke told her. Then, in an attempt to distract her from any more talk about the identity of his quarry, he added, “You did a good job. Bold, but effective.”

  She shrugged. “The men weren’t paying attention. My grandmother always says the quickest way to catch a man’s notice is to lead with your chest.”

  “Something tells me I’d like your grandmother.”

  “Most men do.” Like a terrier with a bone, she returned to her questions. “So, the couple you were looking for wasn’t in that car? We put on that show for nothing?”

  “No. They were there. They…” Luke let his voice trail off as the railcar door behind Mari began to open. The hand on the doorknob sported an Irish Claddagh ring Luke recognized at once. “Damn.”

  With no time to plan, he did the only thing he could do.

  He pulled Mari into his arms and kissed her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MARI’S HEART SKIPPED A beat when Luke’s mouth covered hers. Her entire body pulsed with surprise, then sensation. So much sensation that she lost all sense of time and place.

  A delicious warmth flowed through her as his hands cradled her head. Restless longing seeped into her veins as his fingers threaded through her hair. His tongue skimmed her lips, probing, then plunging. Shocking her. Thrilling her. No other man’s kisses had ever made her feel like this.

  Tentatively, she followed his lead and touched his lips with the tip of her tongue. The heat within her intensified as their tongues met, teased and stroked, and their mouths clung. Her arms rose, and she clutched his shoulders while his hands slid lower, made slow circles down her back. He angled his head one way, and then the other, until she didn’t know when one kiss ended and the next began.

  Urgency gripped her, a wild, reckless yearning that allowed her to melt against his hard muscular form. To surrender.

  Then an amused voice drawled, “Attaboy, Virgil.”

  She stiffened, tried to break away, but he held her in a viselike grip. “No,” he murmured against her mouth. “Wait.”