Hat had been watching him expectantly, and finally she unwrapped the blanket and spread it over a squared-off bale of straw, then sat. After clearing her throat, she asked, “And you are?”
So that was what she’d been waiting on. His name. Not one to apologize for anything, Gage merely said, “Newcomb.”
She waited longer, then finally asked, “First or last name?”
“Last.”
“You Texans don’t talk much, do you?” She eyed him from head to toe.
Check that question off his list about her. She hailed from another state. “Not much except when there’s something big to say. You from back east?”
“Occasionally.” She shrugged her shoulders.
That got his attention. What was that supposed to mean? She either was or wasn’t. “You care to be more specific?”
“I grew up in Florida, but I tend to move around a lot. I’ve lived north, east, visited the Deep South, Georgia, and now here I am in the West, though I haven’t gotten any farther than Texas yet. Have you been here long?”
He wouldn’t tell her much, just enough to make her feel more comfortable in revealing details about herself. “Been in town for about six weeks now. It’s got a lot to offer if you’re looking for a place to settle. You plan on sticking around or will you be moving on soon since it’s clear you like to wander?”
“I’m here for my sister’s wedding. She’s getting married tomorrow.”
“Oh, so you’re the one.” That explained a lot and helped set aside some of his suspicion about any connection she might have to Hodge. Still, she was the perfect type for his foe to enlist. Better keep watch over her while she stayed. Wouldn’t want her making the wrong kind of friend and not being able to leave when and if she wanted to.
She stood, her fists knotting at her hips. “Does everyone in this town know I’m late?”
“Most everyone, near as I can tell. You’re the source of a good many wagers over at the Twisted Spur anytime the stage is due in. They’ll be mighty disappointed to see you’ve finally arrived. You’ve made some of the fellas a pretty penny this spring.”
“The Twisted Spur?”
“The saloon.”
“Just wonderful.” Her fists unknotted and her palms flung upward. “I’m already the subject of gossip and I haven’t even been here a few hours. I’ll never make friends with anybody in the ladies’ society, that’s for sure.”
Insecurity echoed behind her anger. She wanted people to think kindly of her. From the way she talked, Gage slightly altered his first estimation of her. This woman wasn’t the sort that would easily take up with Hodge. She probably wouldn’t even visit anywhere the thief normally caroused. Still, Hodge wouldn’t let that stop him if he took notice of her and decided to make her a target or an accomplice. Stanton Hodge didn’t care what others thought of him or whom he hurt.
Protective instincts stirred in Gage and he added one more goal to his last manhunt. If she proved as innocent as she appeared, he would make sure the man he tracked did not lure her into his conniving ways.
“Speaking of friends, when will your sisters come after you?” Gage had expected she would have been picked up by now.
Her palms fell back to her side. “Bear said around three o’clock. That should be anytime now, don’t you think? I can go check outside. I noticed a clock on the water tower behind the livery.”
She headed to the door but halted when Gage’s words stopped her. “No need. They’ll probably show up after the rain stops. Might as well keep dry as you can. I’ll go ahead and light the lantern. You warm enough or you need the stove heated?”
“I’ve had enough fire for one day myself, but if you’re cold, suit yourself. You’ll probably do a better job of getting it going than I did.”
She sounded defeated. Something buried long ago that he hadn’t allowed himself to dig up since he was eleven years old twisted inside him. The last thing his father had ever teased him about was having gangly legs and broomstick arms, being a late bloomer.
That day, he’d been expected to watch for signs of the lobo attacking their herd. Gage had tired from his duty and started daydreaming, writing poetry in his thoughts, losing track of time. Next thing he knew, his father screamed at him to shoot to kill. Two cows were down, his father’s leg caught and bleeding profusely in one of the traps set for the wolf. Champion tumbled in a vicious battle with the lobo, the dog’s and the wolf’s snarls jerking Gage to his feet.
All of a sudden, a high-pitched yelp tore from Champion’s throat and he fell backward. The lobo had taken the last breath from the dog’s body.
Gage’s broomstick arms could hardly lift that big old rifle back then, but he vowed to stop the wolf from turning on his father. He kept that vow and his gangly legs and arms managed to get his father home and his dog buried. Two weeks later, he’d buried his father beside his dog. From that day since, he’d never allowed another soul to see any sign of weakness within him.
He couldn’t allow Feather Hat to feel defeated. There was always strength to be learned just from trying. From believing you could do something.
“You did all right.” Not being around much of anyone but criminals, Gage didn’t give compliments easily. “Maybe next time keep your nails clipped shorter.”
She stared at her fingertips. “I’ll take that under consideration.”
Gage laughed. “Is that a fancy way of telling me to mind my own business?”
“Quick study, aren’t you?”
“When I need to be,” he answered, noting the challenge that sparked in those Palomino eyes. He liked that kind of sass.
“You must have a lot of skills at your disposal,” she announced.
If her eyes had been pitchforks, they’d have been raking him from hat to spur.
She must be trying to use one of her better skills on him now. Gage noticed that she suddenly appeared a lot prettier than a few minutes ago, or else the smoke was clearing enough to let him see her much better. Maybe it was just the amber glow of the lantern light causing her to look all soft and her hair to look fluffed up a bit. Her skin could have been carved from a pearl-colored tusk of ivory he’d once seen on a ship in Galveston.
No matter how she’d managed to make herself more attractive, she still didn’t smell any better.
“I’ve got a few skills,” he admitted, deciding he’d let his mind wander way too much on the subject of what he could see of her. “Which one appeals to you most?”
“What if I said all of them?”
Suspicion blazed inside Gage like a fire that had been kindling below the surface and suddenly flared. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as he’d first believed. In his wondering about her identity, he’d never considered she might already know plenty about him. Who had told her? Hodge? “Why would you want
