Ruby Page 12

  “Ruby. Ruby.” He whispered her name like a prayer.

  She had gone so quiet, it worried him. He was already beginning to fill with remorse.

  “I’m sorry, Ruby.” He wanted to move, to get up. But it seemed too much effort. And so he lay, lifting one hand to brush the hair from her eyes. “I should have stopped this before it got so out of hand. I just didn’t know...”

  She caught his hand and brought it to her lips. “Shh. I’ve never known you to talk so much. Usually the words have to be dragged from you.”

  Surprised, he levered himself up so he could see her eyes. “You don’t sound sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “About...what we just shared.”

  “Are you sorry?” she asked.

  “No. Of course not. But I thought...” He looked at her more closely. She looked...satisfied. Like a kitten that had just lapped the cream off the milk bucket. “You’re not angry that I...took your virtue?”

  “You didn’t take it. I gave it. There’s a difference.” She arched herself up to brush her lips over his.

  At her incredible gesture of tenderness he felt himself harden once more inside her. “You’ll be a little sore in the morning.”

  She ran her hands along his arms and smiled. “A small price to pay for so much pleasure.”

  His lips curved. She was flirting. They had just shared the most incredible experience of a lifetime, and she was flirting. He was thoroughly aroused again.

  “Think you could stand a little more pleasure?”

  “Is it possible?” she asked.

  “Um-hmm.” He gathered her close and pressed a kiss to her eyes, her nose, the corner of her mouth.

  She turned her face so that their lips mated.

  “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting you, Ruby?” he muttered inside her mouth.

  She came up for air. “How long?”

  He ran a rough fingertip down her spine and watched as she shivered. “Since the first time I laid eyes on you. You rode into town in that red satin gown, stirring up every man from eighteen to eighty.”

  “Including you?”

  “Including me.” He began to move, and was rewarded by her sudden gasp of pleasure. “And I haven’t been able to stop looking at you since.”

  And then he could see nothing but her eyes as they locked on his. And the look of surprise, and then pleasure, as the two of them were lost in a passionate dance as old as time itself.

  “I’m sorry Onyx had to die before his time.” Quent’s voice was soft against Ruby’s temple. They lay tangled in the sheets. Sometime during the night he had scooped her up and carried her to her bed. “He was a good friend, and I miss him like hell. But I’m glad something good could come of his death. And I know I’d never have met you if you hadn’t come to Hanging Tree to visit his grave.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I wanted so desperately to know my father. But I was eager to come here, to see for myself what it was that kept him here. I knew, even before I arrived, that I would never go back.”

  “Why?”

  “There were...unhappy memories in Bayou Rouge. People said cruel things about my mama because she never married my papa.”

  “But no matter how painful some memories are, it was your home.”

  “No. This is my home. Only this.”

  He drew her closer, wishing he could shield her from all the old scars. But all he could do was hold her. And give her whatever pleasure he could.

  “I vowed I would live my life as I pleased, and not care what others said.” She traced the dark hair that curled on his chest. “But that isn’t always possible.” She glanced up to see him watching her closely. “I know what they say. That I must be like my mama because I wear gowns that are too revealing, or too tight. And though it sometimes hurts, I just keep on doing it, to show them that they cannot control me.”

  It was so easy talking to Quent. He had a way of listening, really listening, to what she was saying. And he didn’t pass judgment.

  “Sister Dominique said it was my way of defying authority.”

  “She sounds like a wise woman.”

  Ruby nodded. “She was my friend. My only friend at Notre Dame du Bayou. I wonder what she would think if she knew that I had found three sisters here in Texas?”

  “She’d think you were lucky. They’re fine women, Ruby. You’re all good for each other.”

  “Oui. ” Ruby smiled then, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself close. “And you and I are good for each other.”

  “Careful.” His hand made a slow pass along her spine, loving the way she fit against him, all soft and curvy. “You keep moving against me like that, I may have to see just how good we really are.”

  “Oh, we are good.” She pressed slow, languid kisses down his throat, across his chest, then lower, until he gave a hiss of pleasure.

  “Too damned good,” he muttered thickly as he lost himself once more in her.

  “What are you doing?”

  The sky was still dark, with only the faintest dawn light beginning to unfurl. Beneath the blanket, Ruby rolled herself into the warmth that still lingered from Quent’s body.

  “I’ve got to get dressed and get back to town.” He was standing across the room, sorting through the pile of discarded clothes. “By now, Arlo has had plenty of sleep. It’s time I sent him home to Effie.”

  Ruby stretched and folded her hands behind her head while she watched him bend, then straighten. He was magnificent. It was the only word that came to mind when she looked at him.

  All night their lovemaking had been by turns frantic, then gentle. At times a wild frenzy, sending them to the edge of madness and beyond; at other times as slow and easy as comfortable old lovers.

  “You are so beautiful,” she said.

  He turned and gave her a wicked grin. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that said about me before.”

  “Well, you are. You have a beautiful body. It’s so lean and muscled, and sun kissed.”

  “Go on.” He picked up his shirt and untangled his gun belt.

  “The first time I saw you I was frightened of you.”

  “Of me? Why?”

  “It was...” She swallowed. “The badge, I suppose.”

  He turned, then crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding his clothes. “Why does my badge bother you, Ruby?”

  “It doesn’t bother me exactly. Well, it does, but...” She shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know why.”

  He caught her chin and lifted her face until she was forced to meet his eyes. “I think you know. Could it be that you see this badge as a symbol of authority? Like the ones you vowed to defy?”

  She pushed his hand away. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Maybe it would help if you knew why I decided to become a lawman,” he said gently.

  “I thought it was because your father was a lawman.”

  He caught her hand and studied the pale, creamy flesh. So unlike his own callused, sun-darkened skin. “When I was younger, and sowing my wild oats, I resented having a father who was a lawman. I’m afraid I broke his heart a number of times. As many times as I broke the law. I ran with a pretty wild bunch. Oh, we didn’t do anything too bad. But we drank, and shot up a couple of saloons, broke up some furniture. Looking back, I can see that I was headed in the wrong direction.”

  “What happened to change things?” she asked.

  His tone hardened. “An outlaw, fresh from a jailbreak, came back to settle an old grudge against my father. The coward shot my father in the back, then ran. When Onyx Jewel found out I was going after the killer, he pinned my father’s badge on my shirt and deputized me. Said he expected me to see to...not vengeance, but justice.” Quent shook his head. “I couldn’t believe that a man like Onyx would trust me with something as precious as my father’s badge. That trust changed everything.”

  “Did you catch the killer?”

  He no
dded. “It took me nearly two weeks, but I found him.”

  “Did you...kill him?”

  Ruby saw his eyes narrow.

  “I wanted to. More than anything. But that damned badge pinned to my shirt stopped me. I found myself thinking about Onyx Jewel trusting me to do the right thing, to honor my father’s memory. And then I thought about my father, and the fact that he’d spent his whole life living by the rules. And I just had no choice. No matter how badly I wanted revenge, I had to swallow my feelings. I brought the outlaw back alive.”

  Ruby felt tears sting her eyes. How like her father to trust a half-wild young man who’d defied his own father and broken the law. Onyx Jewel would understand. As he would have understood her, had he known her better.

  He lifted her hand to his lips. “So you see, Ruby. I owe it to my father, and to yours, to wear that badge and see that the people of Hanging Tree are kept safe from madmen who think their guns give them the right to defy the law.”

  “Where is your father buried?” she asked suddenly.

  He arched a brow. “At the edge of town. Right beside my mother’s grave. She died when I was ten.”

  “I’d like to visit their graves,” she said softly.

  “Why?”

  She sat up, unconcerned about her nakedness, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “To tell them what a wonderful, honorable son they have.”

  He framed her face with his hands and studied her before bending close for a kiss. Against her lips he muttered, “Now you’ve done it.”

  “What?”

  He took the kiss deeper. “Made me late. Arlo’s going to have to stick around until morning.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A cool, crisp breeze blew down from Widow’s Peak, ruffling the grass, putting a chill on the morning. Quent Regan opened the back door of the jail, breathing deeply. This was the kind of day he savored. Not too hot. Not too cold. Just right.

  And in an hour or so, he’d see Ruby. That would make the day perfect.

  He smiled as he walked back to his desk and picked up the latest assortment of paperwork which was piling up. Mainly because he’d spent so much time lately thinking about Ruby.

  Damned if that woman didn’t affect him like no other. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so good. So alive. So...complete. That was it. With Ruby, he felt complete.

  He shook his head. Next he’d be thinking about marriage. And young ones. Hell, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. The thought of sharing the rest of his life with Ruby had him grinning like a fool.

  He looked up as Birdie Bidwell entered, carrying a covered breakfast tray. He inhaled the fragrance of hot coffee and freshly baked biscuits, and gave her a wink. “Looks like Millie outdid herself this morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Birdie removed the linen square and began arranging the food on his desk. “Which is pretty amazing, considering how upset she is.”

  “What’s she upset about?” Quent lifted a steaming cup to his lips.

  “It seems she was robbed last night.”

  Quent burned his tongue and set the cup down with a clatter, sending coffee sloshing over the rim. That, in turn, caused him to burn his hand, and he was forced to bite back a stinging oath.

  His eyes narrowed. “What was stolen?”

  The girl shrugged. “A pretty little brooch, near as I can figure. Don’t know why she’s so weepy over a trinket, but she’s been crying ever since she discovered it missing.”

  The breakfast was suddenly forgotten. Quent crossed the room and grabbed up his hat, before heading for the door.

  “What about your tray, Marshal?” Birdie called in dismay.

  But he was already stalking toward the boardinghouse at the end of town.

  He didn’t bother with the front door, but made his way to the back and rapped sharply. Millie opened the door, then stepped back to allow him entry.

  He could see for himself that she’d been crying. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red from blowing it. “Birdie said you were robbed.”

  “Ohhh.” She couldn’t speak. Her lower lip was quivering, and she bit down hard.

  “Birdie said it was some sort of trinket.”

  “It was... a brooch.” Tears started again, but Millie didn’t try to hold them back. Just talking about it had her heart breaking. “A pretty little swirl of gold set with some sparkly stones. It was the last thing Mick gave me before he...” The tears became a flood, and she broke into sobs. “It was all I had left of Mick.”

  “I don’t believe I ever saw you wear it,” Quent muttered helplessly. In all the years he’d known Millie, he’d never seen her cry. She was the strongest, bravest woman he’d ever known. After her husband died, she’d turned her place into a boardinghouse to support her three little girls. And she’d been working, without complaint, ever since.

  “It was too fine and pretty to wear.” Millie swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to go on. “I...just kept it on my dresser, where I could look at it and...remember the night Mick gave it to me. Oh, Quent.” She was hiccuping now, her voice breaking with each word. “Who would do such a cruel thing?”

  Quent drew an arm around her shoulders and led her to a chair. Kneeling in front of her, he took both her hands in his. “When did you notice it missing?”

  “This morning. After I’d tidied up my bedroom. Before coming down to start breakfast.”

  “Are you sure it was there yesterday?”

  She nodded. “Yesterday morning. It’s the last thing I look at every morning before I go downstairs and start my work.”

  “Were April, May or June in there? You know how children are, Millie. Maybe one of your girls picked it up to admire it, then just forgot where they set it.”

  She shook her head. “The girls weren’t in my room. Besides, they know how important that brooch is, Quent. It’s the only thing they have of their father, too.”

  “All right.” He squeezed her hands. “Now think, Millie. Was anyone else in your room? Birdie, maybe?”

  She choked back her tears, struggling to make her mind work despite her loss. “I didn’t have any overnight guests, so Birdie wasn’t needed upstairs yesterday. There wasn’t anyone at all. Wait.” She frowned. “I forgot. There was one. Ruby. Ruby Jewel.”

  Quent felt his blood freeze. “What was Ruby doing upstairs?”

  “She brought over a sample of the lace to show me.” Millie blew her nose loudly. “You remember, Quent. The lace tablecloth she’s making for me.”

  “Yeah.” He struggled to keep his tone even. “Do you recall how long she was upstairs?”

  “A couple of minutes, I guess. I was just putting away some fresh linens, and Birdie told her where to find me. She laid the lace on my bed, and we both stood back admiring it.”

  “And then what?” His stomach was tied up in knots. He’d have given anything not to have to hear any more.

  “Let’s see.” She wiped her eyes, sniffed, then said, “I remember. Ruby suggested we go downstairs, where I could get a better idea how the lace would look on my table and at my windows.”

  “Who went down the stairs first?” He wasn’t looking at her now. He couldn’t. Instead, he stared at her hands while he rubbed them gently between his. But he was no longer certain who was in greater need of comfort.

  “I think I did. Yes.” She bobbed her head, remembering. “Ruby stayed behind to roll the bolt of fabric, then followed behind me.”

  He cleared his throat. Still, it hurt to ask the question. “And there was no one else who went upstairs yesterday?”

  Millie Potter thought a moment. Then her eyes went wide. “Quent, you don’t think...” Her hand went to her mouth. “I’d heard the rumors, of course. I guess by now everyone in town has heard the gossip about Ruby’s night in jail. But I never believed she did what they said.” Fresh tears rose to the surface, and she blinked them away. “Her father was the richest man in Texas. What would she need with...?�
�� The tears spilled over, running down her cheeks. Scalding tears of pain and anger. “Not Mick’s brooch. Oh, no, Quent. No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not Mick’s...”

  “I’m not saying she did, Millie.” He handed her his clean handkerchief, then patted her shoulder before getting to his feet.

  “Where are you...? You’re going to... confront Ruby?”

  “Knowing what I do, I have no choice.” He pulled the door open. “Don’t worry, Millie. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  Once outside, his features changed dramatically. The frown between his brows deepened. His jaw was clenched so hard, his teeth ached. His hands were balled into tight fists. He jammed his hat on his head and headed down the dusty street.

  Before he’d taken ten steps, he saw her, standing between Farley Duke and Byron Conner. Her hands were motioning here, there, everywhere. And her mouth was going a mile a minute. Whatever she was saying, she had the two men smiling and nodding, and staring at her with big calf eyes.

  Oh, she was slick. But she wasn’t going to get away with it.

  “Ruby.” He stalked to within a few inches of her, then halted. He saw the way her smile grew, as if she were actually happy to see him. She was a crafty one.

  “Good morning, Quent.” Ruby’s heart tripped over itself. She couldn’t take her eyes off her tall, dark, masterful hero. If anything, he looked better in the light of day than he had last night in her bed. “Isn’t it a lovely day?”

  “I’d like a word with you, Ruby.”

  “But of course.” He seemed flustered. But maybe he’d caught Arlo sleeping in the office again. That would explain his almost brusque behavior. “As soon as I finish with Mr. Duke and Mr. Conner.”

  She turned to the foreman of her crew. “I have decided I want a pedestal built in one corner, for my customers to stand when I am measuring hems.”