A Texan's Honor Read online

  “I ain’t got it.”

  “What did you spend it on?”

  “I didn’t spend it.” Jinx looked defiant, but he also looked scared.

  “Then what happened to it?”

  Jinx dropped his gaze to the floor. “He took it.”

  “Who took it?”

  “Lugo. He said I must have stole it. He said nobody would have given a street rat like me money for a bath.”

  “Did you give it to him?”

  “Do I look stupid?” Jinx demanded. “I ran, but he caught me. He hit me and took it from me.”

  Bret thought he’d gotten over being angry at the things that had happened to him, but it took only this to make him realize he hadn’t forgotten anything at all. “Where does Lugo live?”

  “Next to the wash house. He saw you. He said you was too much of a fine swell to even notice the likes of me.”

  Bret finished dressing. “We’re going to his house.”

  “He’s asleep.”

  “I think I can convince him to wake up.”

  Jinx looked Bret up and down. “You don’t look like you did yesterday. You a Pinkerton or something?”

  “No, but you might say I’m incognito.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It means I’m trying to look so unlike myself, nobody will know who I am.”

  “I knew that.”

  “That’s because you’re a very smart kid. Now let’s go see Lugo. Why aren’t you living in an orphanage?”

  “I ran away when they tried to lock me up in that place.” Jinx backed away from Bret. “You’re not taking me there, are you?”

  “No. I just wondered why you were living on the streets.”

  “I’m not living on the street. I got a place to stay,” Jinx said proudly.

  Bret recalled some of the places he’d slept. The wash house was pretty good by comparison. “What if a family wanted to adopt you?”

  “I don’t want to be adopted. They’d make me go to school, take baths all the time, come home when it got dark, and put on clean clothes in the morning. It would be worse than being in prison. Besides, nobody would want to adopt me.”

  Bret thought he detected a note of wistfulness in that last statement. “I know a couple who just might be willing to put up with a brat like you.” He tousled Jinx’s hair. “You’d have to go to school, take baths, wear clean clothes, and learn to eat at a table, but you’d have a nice place to stay, all the food you could eat, and somebody who’d make sure nobody hurt you or stole from you.”

  They left the hotel and headed down the street toward the wash house. Jinx’s footsteps lagged as they approached Lugo’s house.

  “How do you know anybody who would take me in?”

  “I was an orphan when I was your age.”

  Jinx stopped in his tracks. “You couldn’t be no orphan. You got money and a whole trunk full of fancy clothes.”

  Bret turned to look at the boy staring up at him, disbelief and the glimmerings of hope in his eyes. Bret knew if he interfered in this child’s life, he had to be prepared to take permanent responsibility for him.

  He must have seen dozens of orphans in Boston, yet not one had caused him to take a second look, wonder about their lives, remember his own years as a homeless outcast. Had he been so focused on making a place for himself that he couldn’t see anything else, or had he been afraid to see himself in those upturned faces, to remember that his family hadn’t wanted him, either? Had being back in Texas unleashed a part of him he’d stored away and tried to forget? He didn’t want to believe he’d become so heartless, he couldn’t care about kids like Jinx.

  “I had no money and only one set of ragged clothes when I was adopted,” Bret said. “I was angry at the whole world, mean to other kids, distrusted and disliked everybody, and constantly started fights.”

  “If I’d been one of those kids, I’d have beat the shit out of you.”

  “I’m sure they wanted to, but our parents taught us to like and trust each other.”

  “How’d they do that?”

  “By loving us first. After a while, we couldn’t help loving them back. And once we did that, it was easy to start liking each other.”

  “They wouldn’t like me.”

  “Why wouldn’t they? I like you.”

  Jinx couldn’t believe that. “Preacher Jones says kids like me are the spawn of the devil.”

  “I’m sure he would have said the same of me. Now it’s time to wake up your boss.”

  Bret had to knock two times before he got a response.

  “Go away,” a voice from inside shouted. “Come back when it’s daylight.”

  “I leave town in less than an hour. I have to talk to you now.”

  Bret got no response.

  “It’s about beating Jinx and stealing his money. The sheriff might be interested in hearing what happened.”

  Bret heard a string of curses followed by what sounded like someone stumbling around in the dark. A few moments later the door opened; in it stood a man who exactly fit Bret’s image of a person who would beat a helpless child and steal his money. He was unshaved, his hair matted, his clothes dirty and ill-fitted to his fat but muscular body.

  “What lies has the little bastard been telling you?” Lugo demanded.

  “He said you accused him of stealing the two dollars I gave him, that when he wouldn’t give you the money, you beat him and took it from him.”

  “He’s a damned liar.” Lugo raised a threatening fist at Jinx, who moved closer to Bret. “Why would a man like you give a street rat money?”

  “Why I gave it to him is none of your concern, but I did give it to him. I’m here to see that you give it back. And to tell you that if you lay a hand on him again, you’ll answer to me.”

  Fixing his gaze on Bret, Lugo seemed to forget all about Jinx. “Are you threatening me?”

  “You can take it like that if you want,” Bret said.

  “You cowhands are always coming into town thinking you’re somebody important.” He lumbered toward Bret. “Nobody pushes Lugo Cates around.”

  “I never met anyone named Nobody. But if he could make you act like a decent human instead of a bully who beats up kids and steals from them, I’d like to shake his hand.”

  Lugo came down the steps with a roar, apparently intending to run Bret down. Bret sidestepped, then landed two quick punches in his stomach that doubled the other man over. He followed that assault with an uppercut to the jaw that sent Lugo reeling backward.

  “I don’t want to fight you,” Brett said.

  He didn’t have a choice. Lugo came at him again, roaring like a maddened bear, depending on his weight, size, and aggressiveness to overwhelm anybody who tried to oppose him. Bret pounded Lugo’s body with a series of short, sharp jabs.

  “My hobby is boxing,” Bret said, dancing away each time before Lugo could move to meet him. “You can either give Jinx his money and promise not to hit him again, or I can batter your face until it looks like a cow carcass after wolves have been at it.”

  Lugo’s answer was another blind charge. Again Bret stepped aside, then battered Lugo’s body before he could get his hands on his elusive enemy.

  “Stand still and fight, you damned coyote!” Lugo roared.

  Bret’s answer was a blow to the jaw that sent Lugo staggering backward. Lugo shook his head to clear it, spun around until his gaze focused on Bret, then charged again. The same sequence repeated itself several more times before Lugo staggered and sank to his knees.

  “Now will you give Jinx his money?”

  Lugo nodded.

  “Get it.”

  Lugo staggered to his feet and finally managed to climb the stairs and go inside. Bret flattened himself against the side of the house and motioned for Jinx to do the same. The boy had barely gotten into position when Lugo came charging out of the house with a gun in his hand. Bret stepped forward and brought his hand down on Lugo’s wrist with such force he could hear the s
ound of bones breaking.

  “You’ll have to get the money yourself,” he said to Jinx over Lugo’s moans. He picked up Lugo’s gun. “Are you going to leave Jinx alone? You might as well agree. With your wrist like that, you can’t really stop me from doing whatever I want.”

  Lugo’s eyes were filled with hate, but pain dulled his features. Bret didn’t know how much faith he could put in a promise extracted under these conditions.

  “I won’t hurt the little bastard as long as he does his work,” Lugo said.

  “I’ll be back through here in a few weeks to check up on both of you.” Bret emptied the bullets from Lugo’s gun, put them in his pocket, and tossed the firearm into the water tank atop the wash house. “Just in case I don’t get back as soon as expected, I plan to explain the situation to the man at the desk in the hotel. I’m also going to leave some money for Jinx. If you touch so much as a single penny, I’ll break your other wrist.”

  “Why do you care about this kid?”

  “I was an orphan once. I know what it’s like to be beaten and cheated. I don’t like it any more now than I did then.”

  “Are you really coming back?” Jinx stuck close to Bret as they returned to the hotel.

  Bret could tell he was scared, but he was also starting to look at Bret with worship in his eyes. “I will definitely be back. And I want you to think about going to stay with those people I told you about.”

  “Couldn’t I stay with you?”

  “I live in a single room in a city up North. Jake and Isabelle have a huge house on a big ranch right here in Texas. You could have your own room.”

  “Those people might not like me as much as you do.”

  “I promise they’ll love you. Think about it while I’m gone.”

  “I will if you promise to come back.”

  Bret hesitated, but he’d already made a commitment to Jinx. He couldn’t get out of it now. “I’ll come back.”

  Chapter Four

  Emily didn’t see Bret when she arrived at the livery stable. Lonnie and Jem had the horses ready, and a cowhand and a dirty little boy were checking the ropes that secured Bret’s suitcase and trunk on the packhorse. She should have known that any man who dressed like he did, who seemed accustomed to drinking expensive brandy, and who was part of the Abbott family, would hire someone to do his work for him, but she had expected him to be ready to leave at the appointed time.

  She recognized the boy as the one who’d helped with the luggage at the train station, but she wondered where Bret had found that cowhand. His clothes were well-worn but clean, his boots scuffed but recently polished. Even the hat showed signs of long use. But it was the body inside the clothes that drew her attention.

  The man was very tall with broad, well-muscled shoulders. He didn’t appear to have an ounce of excess fat, his torso tapering down to a narrow waist cinched by a wide leather belt. Worn jeans clung to a rounded bottom and muscled thighs in a way that caused Emily to feel warm. When the man turned and she recognized Bret, the heat turned into a flame.

  “What are you doing dressed like that?”

  “I didn’t think the clothes I wore last night would be particularly comfortable today,” Bret explained.

  “That didn’t mean you had to go out and buy the clothes off some cowhand’s back.”

  There was that smile again, the one she hated, the one that said he knew something she didn’t.

  “These are my clothes. I thought the way they fit would have told you that.”

  Emily felt herself blush. “You don’t have to check the ropes,” she said to cover her confusion. “Nothing Lonnie ties comes loose.”

  “He tied them himself,” Lonnie mumbled.

  Okay, it was time to back up before she embarrassed herself beyond any possibility of recovery. “It appears I’ve misjudged you. Is there anything Lonnie or Jem can help you do before we leave?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve already chosen another horse and saddled it.”

  “What was wrong with the horse Lonnie picked out?”

  “It looked like it was either asleep or near death. It’s been a long time since I spent much time on a horse, but as I remember, a mount is supposed to be able to move faster than I can walk.”

  “I didn’t want to pick one that would run away with him,” Lonnie said when Emily looked to him for an explanation.

  “Can I help you into the saddle?” Bret asked as he came to where Emily was standing next to her horse.

  “Lonnie can help me.”

  “I’m sure he can, but I’d like the chance to show you I’m not completely useless.”

  She didn’t want him to help her. She didn’t want to be near him, didn’t want him to touch her. She’d thought about him too much last night. Seeing him dressed in clothes that clung to his body like a second skin only made it more difficult to ignore him, to deny she was attracted to him.

  “I never thought you were useless.”

  “You thought I was helpless.”

  She stood a little straighter. “I thought you’d have trouble fitting in out here, but anybody can see you’re not the kind of man who would be helpless.”

  He looked taken aback. “You surprise me. I thought you’d sized me up as a dandified young man who’d feel lost out of the city.”

  “I had, but I’ve realized my mistake. Now, if you’re going to help me mount, please do. It’s nearly time to leave.”

  She was prepared to have him hold out his hands so she could step up into the saddle. Instead he put his hands around her waist.

  “When I lift you up, throw your leg over.”

  Emily had never mounted a horse in that fashion and was about to tell him so when she felt herself lifted off the ground. She barely had time to collect her wits and throw her leg over before he settled her in the saddle.

  “I don’t usually mount that way,” she managed to say when she got her breath back.

  “I don’t like the bottom of a boot touching my hands. No telling where it’s been.”

  She didn’t know what to think of him, what was real and what was an act. When she saw the horse he’d chosen led out from the livery stable, she was certain nearly everything he’d done up until now was an act. It didn’t surprise her that he swung into the saddle with the effortless grace of long experience or that he had the spirited gelding under control by the time his rear end hit the saddle. What she wanted to know was where he’d learned to do that.

  “You’re full of surprises.”

  “I wouldn’t be so surprising if you hadn’t expected so little.”

  She didn’t intend to change her mind about Boston, but it was time to admit she’d been wrong about Bret. “You’re right. I had expected you to be so uncomfortable you’d turn around and run. I should have known Silas Abbott wouldn’t send anyone like that. He’s too worried I’ll marry some cowboy and sell my stock.”

  “Let’s forget what we thought of each other and start over again.”

  She should have felt embarrassed. Usually she would have been furious at being so completely outmaneuvered, but Bret’s smile seemed friendly rather than mocking.

  “Okay. It seems only fair. Lonnie and Jem are saddled up. It’s time to go.”

  “You’re coming back, ain’t you, mister?”

  Emily had completely forgotten the dirty little boy. He was standing dangerously close to Bret’s horse, looking up at him with a kind of desperation.

  “I will come back. Remember, if you need anything, talk to Frank in the hotel.”

  “I didn’t know you had an interest in street kids,” Emily said when Jinx disappeared around a corner.

  “It’s a long story,” Bret replied as they threaded their way through the early morning traffic of wagons making deliveries to hotels, mercantiles, warehouses, and saloons.

  “It’s a long trip,” Emily replied.

  “Then maybe I’ll tell it to you.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Emily
had always wondered why people chose to live in a city. Even though it was barely an hour after sunrise, the streets were already crowded and noisy. The various smells that filled the air—manure, alcohol, human sweat—would only gain strength as the heat rose, until everyone had difficulty taking a deep breath. The buildings were so close together they blocked out all but the sky directly above. There was no room to move, to ride, to feel like you could relax without fear of running over or into someone—or having others do the same to you.

  Still, it was nice to have several stores where she could buy things that made her feel pretty and feminine. She felt a little self-conscious that the packhorse carrying her suitcases was as heavily burdened as Bret’s, but then, remembering the way he’d looked at dinner last night, she wished she’d bought a few more dresses. She didn’t want him to think she was unstylish.

  She was relieved that the morning air was cool and dry. Her horse felt restless under her. They’d both be happier when they finally left the city and she could let him break into a canter. As hard as it was on her patience, it was necessary to keep to a trot until they cleared the last of the houses that ringed the town. Children were as likely to explode from a side street or yard as a cow was to wander into their path.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been on a horse?” Emily asked. They were riding ahead of Lonnie and Jem, each of whom was leading a packhorse.

  “I did a little riding before I left Boston to get used to it again, but it’s been almost six years since riding a horse was part of every day.”

  “Did your family have a house in the country?”

  Bret turned to look at her, his expression hard to decipher. “What do you mean by a house in the country?”

  “Just what I said. I can’t imagine your being able to do more than walk your horse in Boston.”

  They had moved into a slow canter, a stride that allowed the horses to cover a lot of ground without using too much energy. Bret moved smoothly and effortlessly into the rhythm of his mount’s stride. He might not have ridden in a long time, but he was clearly an experienced rider.

  “I rent a room a few blocks from where I work. If I have to go somewhere that’s too far to walk, I take a cab.”