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Kate the Kid

By: madam_noe



This is a romantic novella, set up like a hisotrical romance novel, so the sex scenes may be long in coming, but well worth the wait.

***

The name they called out was Kid. She had no idea how she'd get out of it, Texas Jack Harris was a mean son of a bitch even if he was drunk and skinny. He swiped at her with his left, she faked right and ducked. Getting under him was no easy feat as she was 5'10" and he was only a little taller. Yet she went under and sent a left uppercut to his gut. He wheezed and feinted, she followed.

The two of them were fighting outside of some anonymous saloon. To the crowd around she was a young boy, behind her disguise a frustrated woman. She landed another punch in his side; Tex was weakening. Her moment of triumph ended as he swore and a meaty fist on a skinny but muscular arm sailed right for her.

She forgot to block and he landed a solid punch. God, it hurt. She was a tough girl, but a woman is a woman, and a man's a man. She fell down cursing the God that had made her so much weaker than a lout like Tex. How could Kate have gotten herself into this? The damn fool thought she was a boy, and so fair game. Still, he was upwards of thirty and as the Kid, she looked like a boy of sixteen.

The bastard had accused her of cheating, which she had been, but still, bottom stacking the deck was all she'd done. He thought she was stacking after she shuffled. Idiot. She'd wanted a gun fight; fair, clean. She could skin her smoke wagon faster than anyone in the area, even if she wouldn't shoot to kill. Hell Tex was a drunken fool. She'd just shoot up his hand so he couldn't work a trigger for a while.

Instead of a quick end, the damn man had wanted to go mano y mano. His last punch had her down now, on one knee. She was drawing on every ounce of strength and liquid courage to rise up for another go-round when a gunshot rang out.

The saloon crowd of gamblers, ranch hands, and whores that had gathered to watch parted. A tall, lean figure stepped out wearing a long black duster, covered in trail dust.

"Why Finnegan, I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life." She grinned up with false bravado.

"Christ Kid, you're drunk," he stated the obvious and lowered his shotgun. His bright blue gaze landed on Tex and the gun came back up as her opponent flexed his fists.

"Yeah, so?" She struggled up, grabbing his arm to steady herself. "Tex, you've won," she called out cheerfully.

"Damn kid cheated me. This ain't over yet."

"I don't think so," Finnegan gave Tex the stare that had withered many better men.

"Kid owes me fifty."

"You know who I am, Tex?"

"Yeah, you're that fucking Piker, Finnegan."

Not known for much more than his good aim and Irish temper, the gun exploded in Finnegan's hand. Blood spurted up from Tex's boot which he grabbed and began hopping. It was comical even to a hardened gunfighter, and that's what Kate was. She giggled like a tenderfoot after his first taste of rotgut.

Finnegan turned to frown at her. "Shut up, Kid. Now." He turned back to Tex. "Just go on and crawl back into whatever hole you came out of and sleep it off, or next time, I'm shooting something more precious." The barrel was now square with his crotch.

Already in pain, Tex visibly paled and nodded. As he limped off the crowd dispersed completely, slinking back to their entertainments on the Row, giving Finnegan more berth than they would have given the Kid. 

"Kid," Finnegan turned his temper on her now. "What the hell are you doing in Denver?"

Finnegan was one of the few people who knew she was a woman. Her gender made no difference to him, something that had always endeared him to Kate, and when it came to blistering her ears, he pulled no punches. The fellow hired gun was a welcome sight, even if he was hollerin'.

"Just finished a job," she grinned at him, "I was celebratin'."

"Yeah," he lowered the gun to the ground like a cane with a heavy breath and looked around. "I know how ya celebrate. Damn cardsharp, Kate. You're gonna get y'self killed someday."

"Aw, it's just fun. Ain't never cheated nobody that didn't deserve it, Finn. What are you doin' in Denver?"

"Friend got some deeds outside of town. Offered me a partnership." He grinned at that and turned, leading her up the street past the brothels and lower saloons while she stumbled behind in curiosity. 

"Well I'll be damned, ol' Finnegan goin' legit?" She was tired and the brandy in her system was slowly working its way through her veins to her head, thickening her tongue and her speech. She wanted a nice long sleep, which she well deserved after two solid weeks on the trail.

"I figured it's worth a try. Come on, have a drink with me." She looked up and noticed they'd passed her hotel and shrugged. "Sure, why not." They were off the dusty street now and onto the wooden boardwalk. He led her to a small hotel, the Wilshire, and through the small, dark lobby.

"Is it a friend from back in Ireland?"

"None other than me brother and sister."

"Why didn't you say so?" She grinned as he unlocked the door to his room.

"Ya didna ask." Inside was the standard rope bed, dresser, and wash stand. A few liquor bottles littered the night stand, attesting a few days' stay. From a drawer he pulled out a new bottle of cognac.

"Ahh, the good stuff." She smiled and accepted the dirty glass he offered. "What are we celebratin'? You're too damn happy to be tied to some land."

"I'm to be an uncle."

"Well, cheers then." She clanked glasses with him and took a big gulp.

He frowned at her over his rim. "You're supposed to bloody sip it, y' know. It's fer enjoying, not swilling like a greedy swine."

"All right." Just to make him angry her next sip was even larger. "Can't believe it, ol' Finnegan goin' legit. Well, at least it means more business for me. I ain't one for retiring."

"Watch it with the ol' stuff, Kid, I'm only thirty four." He sank onto the bed with a groan.

"Well, it don't mean nothin'. They call me Kid but I'm twenty four." She grinned at him. He smiled in return and her own grin broadened.

Finnegan Cullen was one of the first people she'd met in San Francisco after Isabella had "tamed" her, as her friend liked to say. He'd always been a fair friend, a help some times, an utter pain in the ass at others. He was lean but full of corded muscle, his hair was sandy, his eyes bright blue. He'd been born in County Cavan and had fled the famine like so many. She'd never known how he came to be a gunfighter, but so many lived as such in the west.

All it took was one illegal transgression in the states and escape to the west was the only option for many. She knew that better than most. He had always been one for horseback and the open range, and seeing him retire was a bit sobering. Her friends as of late had been settling down, and if Izzy caught word of it she'd set to nagging Kate again.

"So where's this sister of yours?" She took off her hat, a rarity for her showing her comfort level. Her hair was her one vanity, thick, long, and auburn it had to be hidden under her hat to keep the "Kid" alive. She set her bandana down on top of her Stetson and kicked her feet up. She was seated in the lone chair while Finnegan reclined, his feet by hers.

"She and the husband are in a room next door. We're staying here until we can build a cottage on our land."

"Land worth anything?"

"We found a vein of silver that looks good, but even if not we could farm most of it. It'll keep them until the end of their days."

"What about you, Finn? What will you do?" She held her glass out for more and he poured obligingly. The gas lamp flickered for a moment making the liquid flow staccato. 

He sat back and shrugged. "I'll help mine, maybe buy the land next t' theirs. I'd like to find a wife, have some kids o' me own."

"Wow, you, a father? Shit, never say." She knew cursing was a sign she'd had too much. She polished off her glass and set it on the chest of drawers.

"I've always wanted it, might even have a go at respectability." 

She laughed outright. Finnegan Cullen was many things, but respectable? Never. "You'll never be a one woman man, Finn." There were tales, she thought, that could prove it. The man was famous in brothels all through the territories. There were even tales that he'd visited all the whores in three of them in one night.

"For the right woman, maybe." This was said softly.

Alarm bells went off in Kate's head, she blinked purposefully. His image swam in front of her. She'd had too much drink, but was that why he was looking at her so...well, so differently? 

She'd seen that look before, that look had been coming her way entirely too much as of late. She'd been a late bloomer, so to speak. It wasn't until she was eighteen she'd filled out enough to need to bind her breasts. No one had ever questioned her as the Kid before that sorry state of affairs had arisen. In the last year, at the age of twenty four, her hips had rounded, her waist tucked in more. Her curves had finally filled out and she was getting that look too much.

Her drunk mind swirled. Isabella would know what to do. Her friend ran an Inn in San Francisco and in the eight years they'd known one another Izzy'd fended off countless suitors. Isabella knew everything there was to know about handling men, and now that she was being taken out of the game Kate decided maybe she should learn a few tricks. In just a short time she'd be married, and Kate would be left alone in the world.

Her previous lecture sunk in. The new husband, Jerome, wouldn't want Kate living in their home. And she'd be out amongst the wolves. In situations just like this. Drunk, in a man's bedroom. He may have been a friend, but he wasn't looking very buddy-like at the moment.

For the first time in her life Kate felt like a woman alone. Not the capable, legendary Kid. Just a woman.

"You're beautiful, Kate." He started to sit up more.

Nervous as hell she grabbed her hat. "Uh, I ah, have to go." She stumbled a bit and he stood, looming over her in the small room. Kate darted for the door and managed to fling it open, smashing her hat on her head as she burst into the hall.

"Kate? Kate! Wait!" he called out but she was already down the hall without a further word.

She moved like a demon out of the open lobby and onto the boardwalk. Her hotel was just a block away. Once inside her room, Kate collapsed.

In one night she'd lost a fist fight and then was almost mauled by a friend. It finally occurred to her:

Kate was going to have to retire the Kid.

#

She dreamt that night in an unusually vivid montage for her. Kate's dreams were usually about hunger. For love, for safety, for money. But that night it was memories. Memories that had haunted her unsuccessfully. 

There was Pierre, slapping her for some small offense. Then his mangled body, the bear's claw marks covering him. Then there was White Eagle, so young and proud, riding off to battle. Then his sister, Little Cloud, holding Kate as she cried. He'd died so young, so many years ago, but the pain was so fresh. In the real world, beyond dreams, she cried out in her sleep.

Then there were those two lost years of wandering, violence, and pain. Desperation that had driven her on until Little Cloud had found her. And then Isabella, her savior. 

There were Finnegan as she once knew him, Spotted Horse, and Dan Forth, her trusted friends. All people who cared for her and about her, but the loneliness, always the loneliness. Then the hunger came.

It was the same, always the same. Green eyes, eyes like fire in a sea of darkness, seeking her out. But so far away, always out of reach. A deep rumble, was it laughter or thunder? She couldn't tell. A feeling of sharp loneliness and a sort of restlessness she wasn't used to. Then she awoke.

It was morning. Denver, she remembered, she was just north of the infamous Row. Her head ached and yet again she swore she'd never drink again. She rang the bell pull for a bath and rose slowly. What she wanted was hair of the dog, what she used was cold water.

The door opened and a tub was brought in and filled quickly by two efficient youths who left with a tidy tip. She stripped down before settling into the warm water with a sigh. She soaked her hair and closed her eyes.

Retirement. She had never thought about it.

She had enough money, she supposed, to buy herself some land on a ridge and build a little house. Nothing fancy. Hell, maybe she could buy a small ranch. Ironic, wasn't it, that as a woman she couldn't get work as a ranch hand, but she could employ them.

That was something she'd never gotten used to. She'd had 14 years of her life where women had been equal to men. After ten years in "society" she still couldn't get used to it.

As she soaked in the scented water she fingered the gold locket around her neck. Worrying it in her hands she opened it again. Once a picture had been inside, now there was only the inscription. Kate.

It was all she had of her life. Of what she assumed was her life.

She'd awoken on the floor of a dusty cabin as Pierre, a grizzled fur trapper, had returned to use it for the season. She didn't know her name, age, parents, or where she was from. He said she had a funny accent, but he was straight from France. For two years he'd worked her hard, using her as a virtual slave. She kept house and helped clean and tan the furs and hides he produced. He taught her how to shoot and cared for her most basic needs. But other than that, he'd been a bastard.

When he had finally died, it was a blessing. The only people she knew to trust were the people she met at the trading post. Other, rougher Frenchman and the Lakotas. Little Cloud and White Eagle's family had taken her in when she was about seven summers. No one knew her real age. 

The locket was all she had and Kate was probably her mother's name anyway, not hers. But the family had given her a new name, a place of her own. She'd been Light Fire, in deference to her hair. Bright red as a child it had settled to light auburn over the years.

She had loved Light Eagle as a brother and as they aged the love had changed. At twelve summers she was pledged to him. When she was fourteen he had been killed on a hunting party by warring Ute. Her world had been turned upside down by the loss, and as a woman she was denied her right to retribution. Instead his father and brother rode on, only to be killed as well.

She hadn't understood the need for war. The white man had been steadily herding them back and still the nations warred. So she'd turned her back on them, determined to rejoin white society.

At first she'd been held back by language. Thanks to Pierre she could read and write in French. But after almost seven years she knew the Lakota language better. The English of her childhood had faded from memory until it was gone completely.

She'd headed straight for the white territories. She'd been a scout, could ride well, hunt, shoot, do just about anything. So long as she wore her buckskins and vermillion, riding on horseback, no one had bothered her. Then she'd made it to St. Louis and her dress and manners had outright shocked the people there.

Her horse had been stolen so in turn she'd stolen one. Horse thievery was frowned upon and in no time at all she'd had a price on her head. For two years she'd run back and forth through the territories and the states, hunted by Pinkertons as a wild child, sought after by bounty hunters as well.

After two years Little Cloud had found her. She extracted a promise for four months from her. Four months of living together, no more thieving. In payment for her family's help those long ago years, Kate had agreed. Little Cloud had gone to a missionary school after her parents were killed and had learned English, which she taught Kat eagerly. She also taught Kate manners, dress, and the culture of the whites.

They'd gone to Chicago. Little Cloud wanted to live in Hull House and work helping the poor, but it hadn't been a life for Kate. Barely civilized she knew the states were not for her. So she'd gone into the territories and took the name Kid, the gunfighter her wanted posters had made her out to be.

Isabella had found her in San Francisco. The Italian hoyden had insinuated herself into Kate's life and never looked back. The woman was full of life, tricks, and humor. Little Cloud had shown her how to live among the whites, but Isabella had shown her how to love it.

In turn Kate had taught her how to gamble, ride, and shoot. It was a mistake because Isabella used the tricks to get into too many scrapes. Kate had become her keeper as much as friend. Isabella had money, intelligence, and determination. Kate had sensibility, luck, and friends on her side. Together they'd built the Rockport Inn, as well as the little house behind it.

But Isabella was getting married, and Kate would have to leave that house. The world was just getting too rough for her, it was time to settle down. She shifted about in the water and frowned. Settling down didn't seem too nice. She wasn't a respectable woman. She never cavorted with men, but she had no real name, no family. She owned a horse, two six shooters, and kept her money in Isabella's safe.

It was enough to purchase a parcel of land, she'd seen to it. But Kate wasn't the type to be complacent alone. Yet she couldn't imagine any man settling for her. Sure, types like Finnegan might. But Finnegan was a philanderer if there ever was one, and she saw him as a friend.

No, Kate wanted the kind of man Isabella had talked about. Someone strong, stronger than her. Hell, there were enough around but she wanted a man she couldn't push around, but one who wouldn't push her around ether. Someone good looking, she liked them dark, Kate thought with a shrug. Someone intelligent, who didn't drink too much, smoke too much. Someone who'd be faithful, someone who made her heart beat faster.

Isabella assured her those were the best kind of men. Not that she'd put much thought into it, until now. Still, would that kind of man marry a woman with no family, no roots, no home, and no name? Not likely, she snorted.

She needed advice. She knew what Isabella would say. The woman was as crazy as the day was long with her schemes and appetite for "adventure." She'd probably close the Inn for weeks and book them passage to Boston or something. Force Kate into dresses for husband hunting.

She just couldn't imagine herself draped in silks fluttering a fan and simpering over coy games. Too bad there was no such thing as a mail-order husband, she grinned. 

It was time to get up and dressed. Kate brushed her hair out before carefully binding her large breasts. The cloth didn't help too much but under her loose shirts it worked to conceal the curves. She slid on her white linen shirt and belted it into her buckskin breeches. Over that went her brown coat and gun belt. Her boots slid on, spurs jangling lightly.

It took her hair a while to dry, but once done she tied it under the bandana. With the hat clamped on she felt confident once more and quickly packed. Done, she surveyed the room, hoping she hadn't missed anything. Kate's eyes lit upon the mirror.

Underneath her hat her face had even subtly changed. Her blue eyes seemed brighter now surrounded by long, thick lashes, almost sooty black. Her cheekbones looked higher, more tapered. Her chin was too delicate and heart shaped to pass for a man's, not even a youth's as she had been trying. Her lips were thick and pink, adding to her femininity. 

It was definitely time to retire. But respectability? Never, not for Kate. Isabella couldn't show her what to do, there was only one person who could. Little Cloud.

Kate hefted her saddle bag onto her shoulder before paying her bill in the lobby. Sweetwater, a dumb name for a horse for sure, was waiting for her in the livery down the street. Saddled up Sweet was happy to be moving once more. He was a white Arabian, an extravagant purchase that had set her back a pretty penny but was worth every cent. She'd studded him out twice and already made back more than half his asking price. More than that Sweet was a companion, faithful, incredibly responsive. No money could account for that, it was just breeding.


Kate the Kid Ch. 02



Kate smelled trouble. She smelled it big time. She'd had two good days with Little Cloud and her husband, the Pastor Francis James. Little Cloud was as big as a house with her pregnancy and beaming. The couple had been so in love it was almost sickening. Kate had left her hotel to stay with them in a guest room.

She'd done dishes and laundry for Little Cloud to help out, cleaned the church for Francis. Still, being in the city had bugged her and she went to the telegram office hoping for distraction from Isabella. It had come.

Kid STOP Great to hear retiring STOP Have favor to ask STOP Jerome arriving St Louis May 12 STOP Need you escort him here STOP Thank you, friend STOP Will discuss retirement then STOP Love, Isabella STOP 

So she'd said goodbye and promised to return soon, and left for St Louis. Sweet didn't complain, he liked the city less than she did. The only one they had to pass through was Springfield on their way south. She'd taken her time as President Johnson delivered a speech on the same grounds Lincoln had made famous. She stopped to listen, ending up staying the night outside of town in the kind of subdued saloon the states offered.

St Louis wouldn't be much better, she knew. But she'd have to try and find entertainment while she could. She could hardly go drinking, gambling, and fighting while babysitting Jerome the city-slicker.

So she checked in to a seedier hotel, put Sweet up in the connecting stables and bribed the stable boy to keep an eye on him. With her hat pulled low she went in search of the illegal games. Gambling wasn't anything more than distraction. As a woman in the west she couldn't go whoring, gunfights were business, not pleasure, that left little for her. So gambling it was.

She found a back alley saloon with painted women singing off key and a few rousing poker games going. She ordered a beer and downed it from its filthy glass while being dealt in. In two hours she'd lost over one hundred dollars and won back twice as much.


Happily drunk and richer, she stumbled back to her hotel. As Kate stripped down she replayed the night, like so many others, in her mind and dismissed it as a life not well spent, but it was the life she knew. She helped Isabella run the Inn in San Francisco during the Spring and Fall. In the summer and winter she rode the open plains.

Jobs came for her. Land disputes, protection. She made decent money and she never had to kill. Those who tried to make her learned to regret it. She gambled, she drank, she had no real home. She only owned two shirts, three now that Little Cloud had embroidered one for her. Kate lived off a bedroll, her guns, and a burning anger deep inside.

She'd been cheated of a name, a family, a history. All she knew was anger, and violence. The contest of wills that had been her and Pierre. The hunting parties and needless war of the Lakotas. The bitter gunfighters and deserters populating the west. It was the life she'd been born to, the only one she had.

Kate wanted more. Something more she couldn't name. She wanted to know about her family, she waned to know why she'd been abandoned long ago. She wanted to know who Kate was, what her real name was.

Was she respectable? Did she have a family name somewhere that would cover up her misdeeds? Could she just move somewhere, don a dress, coif her hair, and be as respectable as Isabella?

Kate looked at herself in the mirror, at the hollows, planes, and curves of her naked body. She was muscled sleekly from years as hard work. The toughest had been riding scout and hunter for the Oregon trail in its final days, and that, like all her travels, had left its marks on her.

She looked her face over. Kate honestly couldn't say if she was good looking or not. She lived a world of whores and schoolmarms, where beauty was subjective and often freakish. She saw the woman there, more than ever now. But she also felt the Kid.

And that was just something she couldn't walk away from.

#

In the end she wore her embroidered shirt and newly cleaned jacket to the train station. She wore her hair up but allowed a few tendrils to fall loose. She wore her gun belt inside of her jacket, a very uncomfortable but polite decision. Though she still bound her breasts and wore pants, for all the world to see, the Kid was a woman.

As soon as they moved west the guns would come out and the hair would go up. Kate took no chances.

She tried to imagine what Jerome looked like as the train slowed into the station. Isabella spun romantic tales that sounded suspiciously like dime novel heroes. If he was like the other business men, she supposed he was short, balding, old, nearsighted, and stooped. But if Isabella truly loved him he was a good man, and that made him a friend.

The huge ten wheel steam engine was an impressive sight. Kate had yet to need to ride on the rails, but she supposed some day she would. There were rumors it was coming to California soon. Until then guides like her were necessary even when traveling the stage. She'd made some money doing just that. She'd also worked guiding people privately, as she was about to do. She'd weathered prissy young misses, foreign mail order brides fraught with nerves, and lame old men before. She could do it again.

As soon as the train stopped passengers alighted. Kate watched, waiting. One man caught her eye as soon as he departed, as she was sure he caught the eye of every woman. He was tall, very tall, and broad. Underneath his denim shirt she was sure were corded muscles. His jeans were tightly molded to the finest pair of legs she'd ever seen. His hair was black as midnight and shone blue highlights under the glow of the gas lamps, long enough to curl over his collar. His skin was tanned gold and she wondered what his eyes would look like. There was something familiar about him, had she seen him before?

Something inside her sparked as she tracked his movements. He disappeared inside the telegram office, his well-made form moving gracefully. She hungered for him. Hungered for him the way Isabella and Little Cloud had told her she should want a man. It was like a lightning bolt, shattering her and making all her previous wonderings pale.

Then the thought struck her. Dear God, he was just the kind of man Isabella loved. Was that Jerome? The sudden flash of guilt was almost crippling. Had she just lusted after the man her best friend loved with all her heart?

Kate found a nearby post and hit her head against it with a groan. She was going straight to hell, she just knew it.

"Uh, Kid?"

Kate straightened and tried to school her features in a look of composure. She turned around slowly. Kate was tall and used to looking most men in the eye. Her eyes met with a neck. She looked up.

He was very tall, but lean. Broad shouldered and narrow waisted, he was dressed at the height of fashion in a pinstriped suit and matching bowler hat. His hair was deep brown, almost black and his eyes like obsidian. His face was harshly angled and fierce looking. He was handsome in a compelling way, scarier than hell for a tenderfoot.

"Jerome Williams?"

He nodded and swept his hat off. "Someone pointed me in your direction when I asked for the Kid. Isabella never told me you're a woman." He said this with surprise but didn't look it.

She stepped back and sidestepped the beam. He was solidly built and she had to wonder why a man like this would need a hired gun. Even if he'd never seen the business end of a rifle no one in their right mind would mess with him.

He smiled and spoke as if reading her thoughts. "I've never been even this far west, let alone left the states. And there are many in the business world that would not want to see me married to my lovely Isabella."

She nodded. "Got your bags?"

"They're being transferred to my coach. I'm just waiting for my friend to send a message and then we're off."

"Friend?"

He nodded again and finally placed his hat back on. He held a cane that gleamed silver in the sunshine let in by the windows in the ceiling. He looked hard to her but his smile was genuine. She returned it.

"Rafe MacNeil," he said.

Her world began to spin.

"Rafe? Rafe MacNeil? He's your friend?" Rafe was a man with a reputation. He'd been an educated southern gentleman who'd left New Orleans after some bad blood. He was a hired gun to be feared, a bounty hunter without equal, never moving west of Texas., which was lucky for her. Someone was paying him to track her down, or so Spotted Horse had told her the last time they'd crossed paths.

"He is, know him?" Jerome looked around for him.

"No, never met him, just know the name. Gun fighter, right?"

"So I am told you are as well."

"Hired gun. There's a difference. One's business, one's pleasure." She followed his gaze trying to find Rafe as well.

He slid his dark eyes back to her and quirked his mouth. "So, which one are you, my dear?"

"I'm all business." 

He hooted warm laughter at that and took her arm as a gentleman might to escort a lady to tea. It shocked her into compliance. They walked towards the telegram office and ticket stand. Here the depot was crowded with passengers waiting to board, getting off, and those escorting them. Fashions ranged from poor miner to European Duke. There was trail dust and finely packed China, families, gunslingers, politicians, bankers, and criminals. Well, Kate couldn't separate those last two too well. 

"Isabella never told me your name."

"I don't rightly have one. I just go by Kid."

He gave her an odd look. "Everybody has a name."

"Call me Kate if you must, but I prefer Kid."

"No last name, Kid?"

"None." She slipped from his grasp to stand apart. That sense of danger was growing. An idea occurred to her suddenly.

"Hey, I know Isabella asked me to accompany you, but if Rafe is going along, you don't need me. My sister is about to give birth and I'd like to get back to her." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew she couldn't let Isabella down.

"Is your sister sick?" He looked concerned.

"No. She isn't even expecting me, I told her I'd come back after seeing you safely to Frisco. It's okay, that is, if you really need a guide."

"Well, I'm relieved to hear that. Ah, here's Rafe now."

Following her gaze to the doorway ten feet away she saw him. The tall dark one. His eyes found them and even at a distance she saw their color. Green, as green as plants, like something unreal. His gaze met Jerome's and then slid over her provocatively. She shivered.

This was the man who'd been paid to find her? Dear God, she'd never seen anyone like him before. This was no gentleman; this was no planter, this wasn't even a gun slinger. This man was like a God in one of those Greek myths Izzy was always on about. Her mouth went dry and her knees began to weaken. Was it fear, or something more? She had no idea.

"Rafe MacNeil, meet the Kid, Isabella's friend."

He strode over and extended a large hand. She took it and gave a firm shake. It was a trick she'd learned years earlier. A firm handshake and direct eye contact. No matter how much she was scared it could be intimidating, and it usually worked on her opponents.

He was a good six inches taller than her and about 70 some odd pounds heavier. She doubted a whole Calvary could intimidate this man, and her gaze did little if anything.

"Nice to meet you, Kid. Sure are a lot of you who go by that name."

"A lot of us young'ons, even a few other women. It's common enough." His stare was more direct than hers but she didn't back down. She had the impression that he wasn't staring her down, he was just always direct.

"Got any other name?"

"I go by Kid." Precautions, she thought. Jerome took the hint and just shrugged when his friend looked to him.

"Well, we're ready. Shall we?" 

"All right." She followed them out to the front of the depot, facing the river. The men flanked her on both sides in what was a gesture of propriety. It made Kate distinctly uncomfortable.

Thank God she'd be riding Sweet the whole way. She needed to avoid Rafe as much as possible. She didn't know why he'd been hired to find her but he had a reputation fast growing as one of the best. With him only riding Texas she'd been content to dismiss him, but in the flesh that was damn impossible.

But she had to. He looked like he could handle any problems that came their way, hell, so did Jerome. She was content to be just a guide.

The coach he'd hired was a subdued green, big enough to seat six. The rented horses at first glance looked healthy. The driver was a short man with greasy hair and a few gaps in his smile. He removed his stetson as they approached.

"You Mr. Williams?" He asked Rafe.

Jerome stepped forward. "I am, sir. Are we all set?"

The driver nodded. "I'm Billy Dervis, sir, you can call me Bill or Billy. I done drove this route many times before. Hey, say, you're that Kid that shot up Ralph Meyers over in Deadwood, ain't ya?" He looked Kate over. "I recognize the brand on your boots, li'l lady."

Glumly she nodded, careful to ignore her companions' reactions.

"Hell I never knew you were a woman. Is it true you shot up the Statler brothers in Coffeyville?"

She lowered her gaze and swung it over to the stables. "Yeah. I'll be right back, I'm getting my horse."

She left them there staring at one another. Rafe turned to Billy who looked more than a might bit fishy. "You know of the Kid?"

"Shit, everybody knows the Kid. Gambler, hired gun. Good one. I always thought she was a boy, but there'd been a few rumors lately."

"She an outlaw?" He narrowed his eyes as Jerome stepped inside the coach.

Billy spat at the ground and tightened the reins. "Depends. If she did what she does in the states, you could say that. I don't think she's wanted, and she sure as shit ain't killed nobody."

Rafe relaxed. So the woman wasn't the Kid he was looking for. "Thanks." His body slowly relaxed. At first glance he'd been shocked. He'd never seen a woman wearing pants and the bulges under her coat suggested two very large six shooters. A woman with guns.

She looked slim and delicate, and there was no denying she was beautiful. This was Isabella's friend? A gun slinger? That woman? She was tall but slender, she didn't look like much. It seemed she didn't have much up top but she had long shapely legs. He watched her walk towards the stables with an inward sigh. Maybe the trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

"I don't think it's such a good idea," Jerome said as soon as he was seated.

"What?" Rafe asked innocently.

Jerome looked out the window and watched Kid come back astride some of the best horseflesh he'd ever seen. "That's Isabella's friend, and I know how you are with women. You hurt her, and Isabella will force me to defend her honor. I don't want to have to shoot you, Rafe."

Kid pulled up and said a few words to Billy, then they rolled off into traffic. "Don't worry Jerome, I can keep my hands to myself. It's the ladies with the problem."

Jerome remembered how nervous Kid had gotten as soon as she heard Rafe's name. "I won't worry too much about that."

#

The train had arrived early that morning. They were able to make it to Lebanon, Missouri, a small town with hotels and provisions, their last stop before the territories. Still, it was rough enough that she moved her guns outside her coat, making sure they were loaded and ready.

Billy looked as tired as the horses and she felt a pang of guilt. The Ozarks were hard to cross and she'd really pushed them, but the sooner she deposited the men, the safer she was. She would ride off leaving Isabella alone with Jerome, and leave Rafe MacNail far behind.

Maybe she'd hightail it back to visit Little Cloud and her new child. She could lay low until Isabella's wedding. Hopefully by then Rafe was a problem that would solve itself.

She led them to a hotel she knew was good, the Raven Inn. She sent Jerome and Rafe inside to arrange for bellboys to carry in their daily luggage. She herself relieved Billy and sent him inside, taking the horses to the stable. With a whistle to direct him Sweet trotted faithfully behind.

She unhitched the team and rubbed them down while stable hands fetched oats. She would trade the horses for a fresh team in the morning, made the arrangements and parked the coach in the nearby shed. She led Sweet back to the Raven's better stalls, stabling him there.

By the time he was rubbed down and fed it was after midnight. She hefted her saddle bag up onto her shoulders and walked around to the front.

Rafe sat on the porch smoking a cheroot. In the shadows all she could see was his profile from the light inside and the glowing end of his cigar.

"It's late. Thanks for taking care of the horses."

"Billy looks tired. He's not used to a vigorous pace." Uh oh, she thought, shouldn't have admitted that. It was hard to tell yet if Rafe was as observant as her, not being a man of the true west. "I'll go slower tomorrow." Damn, she'd really cornered herself there. She could have made the trip in twelve days, now she might be looking at a full eighteen.

"So long as the horses can take it we're okay."

She still stood in the street, one booted heel on the first step. She didn't want to get any closer to him, the man gave off an aura that was too strong for her to feel confident in dealing with.

"I exchanged them for a fresh team, they needed it."

"Good, thanks. They only had two rooms left and we decided it would be best if Billy stayed with one of us. I originally drew that straw but Jerome was too tired. I sent him up to bed."

So she was staying with him? There was no way! She looked up and down the main street. The Dancing Belles, that was it. She knew a girl there, Suzy.

"That's okay, I got a friend in town." She set her saddle bags down and he stood up, walking over to the railing.

"A male friend?"

She didn't like the edge in his voice, and she didn't like him lurking in the shadows. It sounded like the prospect irritated him so she lied. "Yeah."

"Well," he drawled and crossed his arms. "Don't let me keep you. Kid?" He called out before she turned.

"Yeah, MacNeil?"

"Breakfast's at eight."

She stalked off towards the brothel beyond city limits knowing his eyes followed. Sure enough Suzy was done with customers for the night and let Kate into a spare room at the Belle's. Once as a favor she'd tracked down a man who'd roughed Suzy up. She'd shot him twice in the knee before turning him over to the judge in the Oklahoma territory. For stealing horses and killing a man, they'd hung him.

Suzy hadn't been able to pay her so she was always hospitable towards Kate. The room she showed her to hadn't been used that night but Kate still put a blanket down on top of the sheets. They talked some before going to sleep. Suzy didn't have much to tell, just who'd come and gone into the state and gone on towards Oklahoma, and how the new madam was slightly better than the old. Kate remained her usual tight-lipped self and mentioned only Jerome and his marriage to Isabella.

She drifted off to sleep and it felt like only seconds later she was being woken up.

"Kid, Kid!" It was Suzy, she sounded breathless.

"Wha?"

"There's a man named Rafe here to collect you, he's downstairs. My oh my is he delicious! Why didn't you tell me about him?"

"Didn't I?" She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Girl he looks like a hot ride!"

To her consternation Kate blushed. She knew enough about those things, but having them discussed so openly was still uncomfortable. Suzy punched her lightly. "Prude!"

"He's Jerome's friend, a hired gun as well."

Suzy sat back. She was pale white with the kind of red hair that looked somehow orange and pink. The Dancing Belles ran what was probably the nicest of white slavery establishments. Kate could never understand how the fancy clothes and expensive champagne made such a life tolerable for Suzy, enough to discuss sex so openly without shame.




Kate the Kid Ch. 02



"Well you best get on, handsome as he is he's scowling something fierce. And you know how Janine likes those brooding types. She'll steal him away if she's a mind to."

"She's welcome to him." Kate brushed out her hair and fixed it under the bandana. She removed her embroidered shirt and pulled out her blue linen.

Suzy frowned. "Why do you bind your breasts like that? Golly, if I had such a large pair I'd make twice what I do each night."

Kate snorted. "They bounce when I ride and hamper my timing when I have to be quick on the draw. I need them restrained but a corset just ain't the thing."

"Well, I packed something in your saddle bag for you. It's called a peg-nor."

The French of her childhood came back to her and she laughed. "Peignoir, dear. Thanks, but it'll never get used."

"It should, Kid. Just remember let those breasts free first. I packed a garter too, he'll love it."

"He'll never see it."

"Sure thing, Kid." Suzy giggled.

Clamping her hat on her head Kate gritted her teeth. "Thank you, Suzy." She knew there was no point in arguing with the strong-headed woman.

"Kid!" She heard the bellow and opened her watch as Suzy opened the door. It was only a quarter to eight, what the devil was Rafe doing stalking her out?

"Coming!" She yelled down. She found him standing feet spread and arms crossed, surrounded by a group of tittering prostitutes. They were well dressed and beautiful in their own right and for some reason, that annoyed her. She felt, for the first time in her life, dowdy.

She placed the heel of her hand on her Remington for comfort. It was bitter and long in coming.

Rafe paid no attention to the women beside him he frowned at her. In the light of morning he was freshly shaved, his hair was wet and slicked back. His clothes were clean but closely molded to his body. Kate understood those other women and their desires very well, now. A torrent of imagery filtered through her mind, tales from Suzy that made her face feel all too warm.

"What's the hurry MacNeil? I was almost up anyways and ready for breakfast."

He gritted his teeth as she came down the stairs. He got a good look at her guns now, large caliber .45's. His own .45 rode low on his hip, a man's gun. Not a gun for this slip of a girl. And she'd spent the night in a whorehouse. Had she been meeting a lover? Maybe she wasn't particular, maybe it was just a way to make money.

God, what did Isabella see in her?

"We'd best get a move on it." He jerked his head towards the door. He wanted to get away from the strutting women surrounding him, even the madam was primping. He'd spent his share of time seeking comfort in such houses but at the moment he felt stifled.

He tore away from them and opened the door, holding it as she stalked past him into the morning light. Today she didn't look like a woman, she looked like a Kid. Until they saw that beautiful face directly, he knew everyone would think her some peachy-cheeked youth of sixteen. Who'd spent an entire night whoring. Even he couldn't claim that.

She stalked away towards the Raven without waiting for him, saddlebag slung over her shoulder. He raced to catch up.

"What is it about me that makes you so scared that you'd rather spend a night whoring than share a room?"

That stopped her in her tracks. Her jaw froze like ice in a grimace.

"Are you wanted, Kid?"

She whirled around to face him. "You know nothing about me, MacNeil. And do the math! I run in the territories, I go by an anonymous name, and I carry two six shooters. Like almost everybody else I'm sure I'm wanted somewhere! But I'm small potatoes, nothing a bounty hunter like you would be interested in."

He grabbed her before she could turn back, her body close enough to his that she stiffened against his heat. "You didn't answer my question. What is it about me?"

"I just don't like you, MacNeil." Now that was a lie, and it almost stuck coming out.

His smirk told her he knew it. Time froze as their faces stood mere inches from one another. His shoulder pressed her saddlebag into hers and she could smell his aftershave. It smelled like lemons or limes, she couldn't tell beyond a tasty tang. His bright green eyes were too distracting.

"You're lying, Kid. What's your real name anyways?"

She licked her lips. His eyes followed her quick little tongue and Rafe felt it all the way to his toes.

"I don't have one."

Two lies in less than a minute. He shoved her away roughly. "Get to breakfast."

Her blue eyes glowed like icy fire and he smiled. It was obvious she was fighting the urge to spit at him. Without another word she turned and strode slowly away.

She intrigued him. A beautiful woman with no name, full of fire and legendary exploits. He'd never met anyone like her. But she was a liar and a deceiver, and most probably a loose woman. She'd be a fun toss in bed, of that he had no doubt, but she should be less than that to him. So why was Rafe so curious? She couldn't be the Kid MacMasters sought, so she was just Isabella's friend, ergo Jerome's.

So why did Rafe find himself saying to her back, "I'll find out your secrets someday, Kid"? 



Kate the Kid Ch. 03



Kate learned a very important lesson that morning. Some men just couldn't be handled. Before meeting Rafe and Jerome she'd always found a way. Some men could be handled by fancy talking, some with a gun. Some she could handle with sex appeal, if she tried hard enough, some with money. But damn her, Isabella chose to consort with immovable, arrogant, pushy men.

Rafe hadn't joined them for breakfast. Neither had Billy who was eating elsewhere. So she'd had to sit with Jerome and battle off his questions.

"So, where'd you pass the night? Angered Rafe something fierce."

"A friend gave me a room, I haven't seen her in a while."

"A good friend, Kid?"

"Good enough."

"How did you meet Isabella?" 

That, Kate was happy to talk about. The dining room of the Raven was small and they occupied one of the two tables in use. She ate only some of her bread and eggs preferring to gulp the fresh coffee. She was more used to chickory on the trail but fresh roasted coffee reminded her of Isabella's home. Her home.

"It was eight years ago. I'd just left the Sates and rode hunter for one of the last Oregon Trail teams. Afterwards I took my earnings and went down to San Francisco, the rush had died down to a dull roar, but there was still a boom going on. Still is.

"Isabella had just arrived in town. Don't know why she'd gone all the way to "Frisco, I'm amazed she made the journey. She spoke no English."

"How did you communicate, Kid? You speak Italian?"

It almost sounded like he was mocking her. What must she look like to these men? A country rustic? That raised her hackles. She spoke three languages, could read and write in two of them, the third never having been written down. She could shoot straighter than almost any man, ride faster, track with the best, hunt better than any. Besides that she kept Isabella's books for her, helped cook for the Rockport. She could breed horses, run her own business if she had to. Hell, she could run a saloon. With her abilities she'd spot any cheater at twenty paces.

Her mind had wandered. "No, but Isabella, like any lady of good breeding, speaks and writes in French."

"You speak French?" He asked this between mouthfuls of bacon, looking like an eager child. She almost laughed.

"I do."

"Are you French?"

"No."

"Canadian?" He looked puzzled. Inside she was laughing.

"No." Whatever she was, she'd spoken English before Pierre came along. She was a Brit or an American, or an already bilingual child.

"Well, go on with how you met Isabella, then."

"Well I was working protection for a few Chinese laundries escorting a gentleman to the edges of town as things were getting mighty tricky for the Chinese. I saw Isabella being robbed. Before they could alight her of her purse I took the thief down and brought him in. Isabella looked naïve, she needed someone to look after her.

"I originally just offered to teach her English and how to shoot a gun but we became friends. She never did learn how to handle a gun, that one is stub-born. I stayed on to help her build the Rockport, just knew the right people."

"Well, Kid, I'm glad you were there to help her." Jerome sat back, finally finished with his meal, and sipped his coffee. Kate thought his respect was sincere and his smile heartfelt. She was won over.

The next instant he ruined it.

"Why are you afraid of Rafe?"

Sometimes it was best to cloak the truth in the truth, Kate thought. She polished off her own coffee and scooted her chair back. "It's natural, Jerome. I'm an outlaw, he's a bounty hunter. Like mountain lions and gazelle, we just aren't made to get along."

With that she left for the privy. Jerome sat back and smiled. At least he knew a few more things about her, even if they were assumptions. She had lived in the mountains, she had to have been educated somewhere, and she was probably the Kid Rafe was looking for.

Well, he'd just leave that for the two of them to settle, he thought with a chuckle.

Outside he found the coach waiting, Billy looking too happy on top, and Rafe seated inside. Kid should be coming around soon, he knew. She was like a faithful and mistrusting pet dog. Never around but always there. Jerome climbed inside.

"Where'd you have breakfast?"

"I didn't. I was asking around about our Kid. Seems only a few whores know she's a woman."

"Kate." Jerome said quietly.

"What?"

"Her real name is Kate, but she told me she wants to be called Kid."

"So I gathered. Jerome, the woman has a reputation as a crack shot, a drinker without equal, and a gambler who can go all night. What the hell kind of people is Isabella associating with?"

He laughed at that. "She only associates with the best, the best at whatever it is they do. So whatever it is exactly the Kid does, we know she's the best."

"I don't know, she gives me an odd feeling."

"I'll just bet, south of the belt?" This was asked dryly. Rafe looked out the window.

"Here she is." And like that they were off.

"Kid!" Jerome called out as they left the town behind for the green fields and open pastures of Missouri.

"Yeah?" She rode her Arabian close. Jerome noticed the animal didn't even bat an eyelash. It was one well-trained mount, one he'd give his eyeteeth to purchase.

"Where will we be at the end of today?"

"Little town of Perry, Oklahoma. Should be there about nine tonight. It's a rough area so when we get there, stay close to me."

"All right, no problem there." Jerome smiled. "Say, what's your horse's name?"

"Sweetwater, name of a farm he was raised on. I call him Sweet."

"Ever think of selling him?"

She snorted and tugged lightly on the reins. Obligingly Sweet sidled away. "Hell no, but I stud him every now and then."

He turned back to Rafe and comically sighed, hand over his heart. "She studs horses too. What a woman." The Kid was already back ahead of the wagon.

"I asked to see if anyone followed us, nobody saw anything suspicious. So if the threats are real they haven't followed us yet." Rafe returned with an even tone and a scowl.

Jerome shrugged out of his jacket in the warm sun. The coach rumbled down the well rutted road at a good clip, the green grassy hills giving way to flatter land. He stared at a passing clump of wildflowers.

"Mildly comforting, suppose they're just better at hiding than we think?"

"Could be. We know Franco is still in Naples, but he's a wimp, would hire others. I know of a lot of guns, none of them around."

"Why don't we ask Kid, Rafe? She might know others."

Rafe put his booted feet up on the bench next to Jerome. He slumped back and thought about it. "I don't know just yet if we want to involve her."

"You don't trust her?"

"Do you?" Rafe threw back.

Jerome looked out the window, she'd gone riding ahead. "I don't know how to answer that. Isabella, well, she only befriends people with good hearts. She's always spoken of the Kid as if she were some sort of wounded forest creature. Isabella admires her toughness, no matter what form it takes.

"She's the kind of woman who'd love a bank robber as long as he gave to the poor. So I can say that logically Kid probably has either done or still does some bad deeds, but for good reasons."

"I wish I had that kind of faith," Rafe rolled his eyes. "No one on the wrong side of the law has good reasons. If she wanted to help humanity, why not start an orphanage? Become an teacher or missionary? No, she shoots people with those two massive guns, curses like a sailor, and does things no other woman does. Isabella is misguided on this."

"You just see the worst in people, don't you?" Jerome pulled out a rolled cigarette and lit it.

"And you see the best?"

He laughed. "No, I'm a realist, as a businessman I have to be. I see the good, the bad, and the potential for both in people. I respect honesty and though I know she's not perfectly honest, something tells me Kid has reason to be scared."

"Isabella's worn you down, old man."

"Rafe, what were you once? Tall me you weren't this dark when you were married to Faith."

The large man shifted about uncomfortably. He didn't like talking about it much. "You know what I was. My mother was a whore, I never knew who my father was. My mother died of the pox when I was five, Andre found me wandering. His family took me in, educated me.

"I married Faith, his daughter. Andre wanted to become a lawyer, Faith and I were to have the plantation, even," he choked slightly and looked away, "even when I lost her I was still to run the plantation, until Andre had kids. Then her damn brother came back home."

Jerome knew the tale well enough and had no wish to relive the destruction that followed. "So what drove you to become a bounty hunter then?"

"I had no money, no land. So I learned how to shoot. I decided I didn't like killing people and I didn't want to be a Marshal. That left bounty hunter. Where are you going with this, Jerome? You know all this."

"You see, Rafe, you're a man made from circumstances. Aren't we all? Isabella was a countess, but the death of her husband and an unscrupulous brother drove her to become an innkeeper. Kate says she has no family name, no last name. Imagine what it must be like for a woman alone in this world, with no family to help her. How can she earn money if she has no taste for whoring?

"It isn't easy, certainly nothing is as easy as what you make slipping on a gun."

"Slipping it on just to fight and cheat and steal is the cowards' way."

Jerome chuckled. "And I suppose you do everything the legal way? And what about all the people she's turned over to the authorities?"

Of course, there came no answer.

#

They stopped three times, two breaks to rest the horses and once for lunch. At lunch Kid was able to sneak Billy away. For some gold he was willing to share their conversation in the coach earlier. It didn't surprise her that they'd discussed her, but the threats against Jerome did.

They didn't trust her enough to tell her. Well, that was fine, she mused. She'd keep her eyes peeled for criminal element without their consent.

Billy told her, while he chewed an impossible amount of tobacco, that they'd spent the rest of the day reliving exploits and playing cards. It cost her eight gold pieces.

Sweet was in high spirits so she busied herself riding fast back and forth. Once she'd spotted some Cherokee and sent them a long ago learned signal of friendship. They'd let the coach pass without bother. It was almost a shame. Cherokee this far out were really just bandits. They'd rob Jerome of his watch and she and Rafe of their guns. Normally alone she'd face them readily, but she'd be willing to be robbed just to scare Rafe.

She'd love to see fear on that man's face, not his usual scowl or knowing smile. She'd been seeing the scowl more and more that day.

There wasn't too much she knew about him. He'd been a planter or something in New Orelans before joining the first major migration. Poverty had made him a gunfighter and there'd been a few fights in Texas. He was quick on the draw and a sneaky bastard. But for some reason he'd gone good, and he was a force to be reckoned with, keeping west Texas clean of her element.

People had talked. It was said Pinkerton himself had left Chicago for Texas to entice him into work. No matter the offer, MacNeil had refused. He worked freelance for private citizens, or randomly hunting criminals. He mostly kept to Texas and since she did not, Kate had never had to worry before.

But now it had been said he was after her. What for? There were only two bounties on her head. One for horse thievery, that was years old. The bastard whose horse she'd stolen had chased her long and hard, offered $1,000 for her head. Unheard of for a simple horse, and a long-forgotten incident to any and all.

The second was for robbing a bank in Missouri. That was a misunderstanding most people, but the damn law, understood. She'd been up in Columbia hunting a fellow down. She'd walked into a bank as the Statler brothers were robbing it. She'd drawn her gun to stop them but the fool manager had shot at her. Winged her leg a little and the brothers had escaped.

Outside she'd shot them and grabbed the money, intending to return it. The manager had followed spraying buckshot towards her. So onto her then horse she'd hopped and rode off with the take.

The Statler brothers were caught and hanged after the Coffeyville incident a year later, but the manager from Columbia told the sheriff that she was in on it. To return the money would have been foolhardy, so she'd kept it. And her accidental bank robbery was laughable legend amongst her friends, common knowledge to her foe, but believed to be real by one determined sheriff. He'd posted her name up with a $1,500 reward.

No bounty hunter in their right mind would be after her for that, not unless they were stupid. She'd shot the only two who'd been dumb enough to try, and Finn had killed the last one in an unrelated incident. So that left the $1,000 horse bounty. How could that be? It was too old for anyone reasonable to care, and far below MacNeil's abilities.

No, it was more likely there was a personal grudge. Someone out there wanted her caught. Someone who's brother she must have turned over to the law. But Rafe was heavy material. He didn't kill for profit, he brought people in. If someone wanted revenge, she was easy to find, easy enough to challenge. The Kid never walked away from a gun fight.

So what was he doing? He was too smart for one bounty, the other was too old. Was there one she didn't know about? If anyone would know it would be ol' Finnegan. That night she planned to telegram him.

When they stopped for their evening break outside Fort Supply, Kate noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A shadow darting so quickly, it had to be Indian. But the Cherokee from earlier knew her signal as friend, ally. Who would bother them now?


"Stay here," she warned Jerome as she mounted.

"What's going on?" Rafe shot up as she drew her .45.

"I said stay here. Rafe, keep your eyes peeled, we may have trouble. I'll be back." Even carrying her bedroll and saddle bags Sweet moved swiftly. As she approached the brush an arrow sailed past her head.

A warning. If she was meant to be hit, she'd be hit.

Rafe called out her name. She held a hand up and froze. Silence greeted her in the twilight, nothing moved but the wind.

She turned Sweet around nimbly and walked him over to the arrow in the ground. Fluidly she hopped down and jerked it from the earth. It was Cherokee, two feathers on top, three on the bottom, and two white stripes painted. She knew what it meant.

From her saddlebags she pulled her knife and cut two deep grooves before fishing out her own small bow. She'd made it herself and it was rarely used, kept only for such occasions as secret communication.

She shot the answer back aiming high, calculating it well. It landed just two feet from the brush and a hand reached out to grab it. She repacked her knife and bow and mounted Sweet swiftly. She rode back into their very temporary camp with a scowl of her own.

"That arrow you saw was a warning from a friend. Someone is following us."

"Him?" Jerome asked, pointing to the brush.

"Put your hand down!" She hissed. "No, he was warning us, he's a friend. Someone else."

Rafe looked around. "I don't see anybody."

"Of course not. It's twilight but they're probably still far enough back we can't see." She was still looking anyway.

"How would the Indian know?" Jerome looked intrigued.

"There's a raiding band watching the road, I saw them earlier when I rode ahead. They recognize me as a friend so they let us pass without robbing us. They're damn good at hiding, and were still watching the road. If they sent a scout up to warn me it means they didn't rob them, and they're not friends. If they didn't rob them, whoever it is are bad news. Care to enlighten me, gentlemen?"

She stood stock still as Rafe and Jerome looked from one to another. Secrets were exchanged but never said aloud. Billy looked lost but scared. He was the only one showing fear and she credited him as the wisest.

Another arrow sailed in, landing at her feet. Sweet didn't even blink but the team whinnied. "Quiet them Billy!" She bent to pick it up and read the markings.

"Two men, heavily armed."

"How do you know?" Jerome asked, curious.

"Yeah." Rafe peered closer at the arrow. It looked ordinary to him and he looked to her for an explanation.

"The Cherokee and Lakota both use arrow markings for communication." She said this as if it explained all.

She looked up and saw the blank expressions. Kate had no choice but to sigh. "Look, let's get moving. I'm tethering Sweet to the back and I'm riding shotgun with you Billy."

"Why don't you ride inside with Jerome, and I'll take shotgun?" Rafe asked through gritted teeth.

"My Indians, my path, my experience here. Okay, MacNeil? If you can tell me how to identify a Cherokee at first sight I'll let you ride up front."

He paused his jaw flexing. "Damn woman." He followed Jerome inside and Kate tethered Sweet loosely. He would follow anyway, there was no need to anchor him, and loose like this he could escape if the coach went wild.

She climbed up with Billy, situated the shotgun between her legs and undid her holsters for a faster draw. "Let's get moving."

"No problem," Billy flicked the reins and off they went.

"You can move this if you need to, right?"

"You expecting trouble, Kid?"

She took a deep breath. "When they go to all this trouble to warn us I definitely expect something. Until those two idiots below us come clean, I have no idea what."

Inside the coach Rafe had his own gun out, on his lap.

"Damn but I wish I had learned how to use one of those." Jerome motioned to it.

Rafe shrugged. "You could always learn. Maybe we should get a piece in camp tomorrow."

"I thought you said no one was following us."

Rafe had the good grace to look sheepish. "No one I asked knew anything was up."

"I think it's time we talked to Kid about this. It's obvious she knows what she's doing. Hell, she's doing a better job of protecting us than a team of Pinkertons, all without even knowing anything's going on."

"Exactly, she's doing fine, just leave it alone. The last thing we need is more people asking questions, more attention drawn to us."

Jerome leaned his head back against the wall of the coach as it lurched on at a more hasty pace than earlier. "I trust you here, Rafe, only because you know about these things. But I point out to you that while she is a mere young woman she has been doing this for eight years, at least. And you? Only four. Someday you're going to have give her some respect for something, let it at least be that."

Rafe made no response, he just looked out the window. He was making a reputation for himself as the best because he trusted his instinct. It was never wrong, and it told him there was something off about her. She was wanted somewhere, for something. He'd bet his life on it.

Simply for Isabella he'd never take her in, but he didn't have to like her, or trust her in such a situation. For all he knew, she was behind the notes. Maybe she wanted to keep Isabella, and Bella's money, to herself.

Or maybe it was Jerome said. Maybe Rafe was just too quick to assume the worst in people. Maybe he just didn't trust them after all that had befallen his life, and maybe it was only made worse by his chosen profession. He didn't deal with good people on a day to day basis.

Whatever it was he wished he could feel differently. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her thick lips, covered them with his own in his mind a hundred times. He felt her long supple limbs wrap around him, he felt himself sinking into the familiar softness of female.




Kate the Kid Ch. 03



And then he saw her rumpled and smiling, emerging from the back of a bordello. It was obvious she'd been there for a reason, and the thought of anyone else touching her drove him mad.

He groaned. It was hell to want a woman and not want to want her. To have such lust for a woman who lied to him and sneered at him at every turn, a woman he couldn't trust. But what if he knew all of her secrets? Would that change anything for Rafe? He didn't want to find out, after all she was Isabella's friend and that meant she was off-limits.

They pulled into Laverne ahead of schedule. Kate told Billy to drop them off at the lone hotel before going with him to put the horses away. She walked the driver back to the hotel and left him to eat in the restaurant with the others.

"Where do you think you're going?" Rafe asked with one arrogant brow raised.

"To ask around." She turned to leave.

"You shouldn't go alone." He started to stand, she waved him down.

"Look, of the three of you you're the only one who can use that smoke wagon you've got there. I can handle myself, I've been here plenty. The camp's still small, can't decide if it'll fold like little towns or spread out. I'll be okay alone. If all else fails, my reputation precedes me."

That muscle in his jaw flexed as she'd seen it do many times in two days. Kate smiled knowing she'd trumped him. He scowled deeper, if such a thing were possible and sat.

Kate sighed inwardly. Even scowling the man was too handsome by half. He looked like some brooding hero in one of Isabella's novels. For that reason alone she lowered herself to explaining her actions.

"I have to send a telegram to a friend to see if he might know who's been hired to follow us and why. Then I'm going to ask around town if any new bloods are in. Lastly for a couple of hours I'm going to watch the road in, see if I can spot them myself."

"Be careful, Kid." Jerome sipped his wine, seemingly unconcerned.

"If you're not back before midnight, I'm coming after you." This was said from her dark companion as more threat than promise.

Kate shivered and it was her irritation at that that made her voice husky. "Fine then, but don't wait up, MacNeil."

Kate stalked off into the night. It took some money to grease the wheels but she woke up the telegraph operator and sent Finnegan a message. Next she moved in and out of the saloons seeking out the slick gamblers and bartenders, the seasoned whores. Those who knew the town best.

No one knew anything but she knew she'd have to make the rounds again in the morning. She managed to find some bad food in one saloon and lost ten dollars in a game of pharo before venturing back to the main road into town.

She leaned against a post and slung her hat low, the brim shielding her eyes as she waited. Kate listened to the sounds of the night along the main road. The pounding of hooves in the dirt, the clank of boots on the boardwalk. The calls of the whores to travelers, the off-key pianos of the saloons. The camp was like any frontier town with it wooden buildings and second story facades, it was just less rough, proving Oklahoma territory was well on it's way to being settled by whites and blacks from the states.

There were more cottages on the edges of towns where families lived. The chirp of crickets was nearby and grass still grew. She'd bet money the town would flourish into a city. Already by day ladies with parasols strolled the streets openly and children played. The whores and gamblers only came out at night. There hadn't been a gun fight in the street in over a year.

"Wool gathering?" a deep voice said close to her ear.

Before she could stop herself Kate gasped. She didn't whirl around though, and for that she felt pride.

"What do you want MacNeil? It's not even eleven thirty."

"The others are asleep. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Oh God, she thought and closed her eyes. Kate could handle hate, she loved indifference. But caring? Concern? She was powerless against it. That was how Isabella had tamed her. Concern. There was no deadlier weapon in Kate's book.

"Go to hell," she said cheerfully.

"I've been there, not ready to go back. Any word?"

"None. You know, MacNeil, I can take care of myself."

He came around to face her, still close. Close enough to her side that the hairs on the back of her neck stood. Close enough that the tingling began again, all over.

"No one's saying you can't. I just said I wanted to make sure you were fine."

She still couldn't meet his gaze, keeping her brim down. "If you worry it means you have some suspicion I can't take care of myself. Tell me, is it because I'm a woman?"

It was the truth but he sensed admitting it would hurt her pride. "When I don't know what we're up against, I'd worry about anyone."

"What are we up against, MacNeil? What are you and Jerome hiding from me? I warn you, don't lie to me."

"Or what? You haven't been exactly forthcoming."

Kate snorted and ran her spur along the ground. "What have you asked me that I've lied about?"

He was silent for a moment. "What's your name?" He knew the answer, he just needed to hear her say it.

"Kate," she said softly.

"Kate."

God, she liked hearing him say it softly. It sounded almost like an endearment on his lips. She made the mistake of looking up at him. He had a shadow of a beard and his hair was mussed from the wind. Why didn't the fool man wear a hat? He must like his tan and she couldn't fault him for that. With his honey skin and dark hair, his green eyes fairly glowed. Rafe looked like a predator. She gulped and quickly looked away.

"Why are you afraid of me, Kate? What is it I've done?" He clearly misread her and for that she was glad.

Should she tell him the truth? No, she couldn't risk it. There were plenty of Kids around, maybe he didn't know he sought her. She decided to hedge with the truth.

"You know what Billy asked me the day we met, about the Statler brothers?"

He nodded.

"I walked into a bank in Columbia and they were robbing it. I drew my gun to stop them but the damn manager thought I was in on it. He shot at me, I shot at them, chased them out. I grabbed the money to return it but the manager followed us out. He was shooting at me and I had to make my escape. I froze, forgot to drop the money and by the time I realized I had it, it was too late. He had the Sheriff of Columbia, Missouri put my face on some posters.

"My friends laugh at me for my accidental bank robbery, and most bounty hunters know about it, know enough not to bother bringing me in. But you? I'm not so sure about you."

He raked a hand through his hair and sent her a genuine smile. Her knees almost gave out, and she was thankful to be sitting. "I didn't know that but fear not, I won't be bringing you in anytime soon."

"Oh."

"Oh? Is that all? Oh?"

"What else should I say, MacNeil? Thanks?"

"No need for thanks. I would do no less for any of Jerome's friends. And as you're trusted by Isabella, so in turn Jerome feels."

She snorted again. "He doesn't trust me. Both of you think I'm some sort of romantic outlaw. I'm useless to you except as a hired gun. Funny, since I'm not an outlaw, I am a hired gun. Protection, tracking, these are the ways I earn a living now. It's not respectable, MacNeil, but it's honest, hard work. You two won't trust me because I do it, but you need me to do it for you."

In the face of this tirade he could do nothing but step back and fold his arms.

"Well go to hell. I'm not doing this for you, or even for Jerome. I'm doing this for Isabella because I owe her. Because she is a great person and deserves happiness, and she asked me to deliver it. So play your stupid games, but other than that, leave me alone."

She stood and whirled on her heel and stalked back to the hotel. It was a brilliant exit, she thought. Now all she had to do was leave him in the dust. At the desk she asked the clerk for a room. The cheerful little bastard informed her there were none left.

A throat cleared behind her.

Trepidation made her turn slowly to face 6'4" of smug, masculine male. "Yes?"

"We got the last two rooms. Looks like we're bunking, Kid."

This time it was she who gritted her teeth. "Lead the way then."

With a grin he did so. They went up the stairs and down the narrow hallway stopping at the last room on the right. The passage was dark with its stained wainscoting and dark blue wallpaper covered in tiny yellow flowers. The gas lamps burned low and the shadows flickered.

With a turn of the key he opened the door and to her dismay there was a single bed in the tiny room. He stepped inside and she followed slowly.

"Privy's out back, down the back stairs if you need it. You want the left, or the right?"

"I'll take the floor."

"Sorry, left your bedroll with Sweet."

So, she had. He was already stripping off his shirt and for a moment she was frozen. His chest was well muscled, beautifully defined. His stomach looked like a washboard and at that moment he put every brave she'd even seen in a battle loincloth to shame. Rafe was tanned on his arms and chest and well, was he tanned everywhere? She wondered desperately.

His arms were thick with muscle, as beautifully defined as his back. He was so strong for a moment in time she was just a woman lusting after a beautiful man.

"Do I meet with your approval?" he asked dryly.

Her gaze snapped up to his face. He was watching her and smiling. A blush exploded over her and she turned away to face the window. "One of us should sleep over the sheet, one under."

"You're sounding like a prude, Kate."

"It's Kid. And so what if I am?"

He chuckled. "All right, I'll sleep on top of the sheet."

"Thanks."

"Getting ready for bed, Kate?"

"Not while you watch, MacNeil. Turn your back." Kate realized she was going to have to remove the binding on her breasts. She didn't want to but it was too uncomfortable to sleep in and she would risk ruining it.

"All right, I'll wash up." He moved to the dresser and pitcher. Eyeing him warily Kate slipped off her hat and bandana, allowing her hair to fall. It almost reached her waist and she quickly combed it out with the brush from her bag.

She made sure he was still turned. "Stay that way MacNeil until I say so."

"No problem." He began to whistle beautifully.

After hesitating a moment she slipped her long shirt out of her pants. Peeling it off she stood only in her leather breeches and binding. He was still turned, still splashing in the basin. She removed the straight pin that secured her binding and unwound it until her breasts were free. The sensation was so pleasant she moaned softly in relief.

The splashing had stopped and she jerked her head up. He went back to it. With haste she snatched her shirt back and slipped it over her head. It fell to almost her knees. Kate realized it would have to do and sighed.

Sitting on the bed she tugged off her boots and socks, stuffing the latter in her bag. She removed her pants and tossed them with the rest of her things before crawling under the sheet.

"You can turn around now MacNeil."

Silence.

"MacNeil?" She sat up. It was then that Kate realized a little shaving mirror was propped up on the dresser. He had been able to see everything she'd done. And she'd stood there moaning like an idiot naked from the waist up.

He turned around and his gaze met hers with heat, sliding palpably along her skin. "Go to hell MacNeil." It was the third time in the last hour she'd said it and Kate sensed it was losing meaning. Still it was her best insult in the ladylike category and so she left it at that and grabbed the sheet. She turned her back on him and squeezed her eyes shut.

Rafe tried to slow his breathing. The air forcing its way into his lungs was coming in short, shallow gasps. Dear God, he'd seen her mostly naked. Underneath it all she was hiding the most magnificent pair of breasts he'd ever seen. And her bare legs were slim, shapely, and impossibly long. Her hair was the color of fire and hung to almost her waist.

He closed his eyes and gripped the dresser for balance. He was hard, rock hard. How was he going to survive the night? He opened his eyes to see she'd buried her shapely form under the white sheet but it couldn't cover up the curves. Under the trail dust they all shared he could smell flowers and realized the scent came from her hair.

His hands closed and flexed, opening and closing again. He'd survived worse. Torture, poverty, hunger, pain. He'd never faced temptation like this, but by God, Rafe would face it tonight.

He turned down the lamp and laid on the bed, the ropes beneath the feather mattress shifting and swinging beneath his weight. She shifted slightly towards him. Turning on his side they were now flush like spoons in the pantry cupboard.

Her bottom wriggled against him, sidling closer. He realized she wore nothing underneath the shirt and was purposefully teasing him, stroking his hardness. So, the minx spat at him one minute than teased him the next?

"Kate," he ground out.

Silence.

"Kate?"

Silence again. She was asleep. Well, at least she was friendly and compliant in sleep. He wrapped an arm around her to still her movements and sighed. It was going to be a long night.



Kate the Kid Ch. 04



Kate woke up a long time later from an odd dream. Not like the haunting memories or dark huger of nights past, she couldn't remember the happiness as the dream faded. She awoke to full consciousness and heat.

The sun hadn't risen, it was still early. A meaty arm was draped over her waist, no, more than that. Possessively she was being held, a still hand resting on the swell of one of her breasts.

Kate gasped.

The sound apparently woke Rafe. "Good morning."

She froze. This was said too congenially. Could she fake sleep? Kate doubted it. She took inventory of the situation. Somehow in the night she'd kicked off the sheet and her legs were bare. Well, one of his covered hers, but that was all. Her shirt had hiked up her almost her waist. Without looking down she knew her nether curls were exposed. Thank God he lay behind her.

Her shirt had shifted around in the night and she quickly realized the hand on her breast was inside her shirt. She gasped again.

Well, all pretense of sleep was gone. All she could do was ask him to remove his hand before she sprung up and grabbed her guns. She was fully intending to shoot him when the pad of his thumb grazed across her nipple. It puckered instantly.

"Rafe..." It had been meant as a warning but instant lust turned her voice into a caress. 

Encouraged, he sat up propped up by an arm. She closed her eyes letting the sensations wash over her and moaned. Kate forgot who she was, who he was, simply letting them be man and woman with no time and place. Never had she felt the feelings he was deliberately provoking.

She felt him shifting, pulling her closer. When his wet mouth closed over the exposed peak her eyes shot open. Something was wrong, but the tendrils left of her mind wouldn't quite grasp it. Between his teeth he captured the nub and rolled it, laving it with his tongue.

There it was, the silly thought that finally broke the haze. He hadn't even kissed her yet. She remembered one of Suzy's rules.

"I don't kiss 'em, Kid 'cause kissin' means somethin'. I's lick 'em and do whatever tussle they want, 'cause that's all business but kissin' is for me and me alone."

Rafe hadn't kissed her. With a burst of power she shoved him off of her, almost off the bed. "MacNeil, knock it off."

It wasn't a fluid maneuver, she was tangled up in the sheets, but eventually Kate was standing, clutching her shirt closed.

"So we're back to MacNeil, and here I thought we were on a first name basis, Kate."

She wouldn't meet his eyes. Kate was beyond embarrassed. She'd gone to bed an angry woman and woke up cavorting like a wanton. The man was too much trouble by half, she needed distance from him and quick.

"Don't ever touch me again, MacNeil, and call me Kid. Now get out of here so I can dress."

He said nothing so she raised her gaze to his jaw. The familiar muscle was quirking like the tick of a clock. Kate held her ground, legs planted firmly apart, her hand fisted on the opening of her shirt. It billowed around her and Kate was very aware that she was naked underneath. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't move. For longer she hoped he wouldn't. The sheet he was now under covered his waist. She wasn't entirely sure he was wearing his breeches. If he wasn't, part of her delighted in knowing, he could just rise naked. He'd be between her and the door. Rafe could just stand up and take her in his arms...

Snarling she turned around and reached for her gun. She drew the .44 on him as his own was brought up. A stalemate.

"Leave now, MacNeil. And don't you ever touch me again," she added hastily. Simply because she was ashamed.

He clicked the hammer on his gun and shored up. Kate met his eyes then. His dark hair was ruffled and messy with sleep, the shadow of a beard thicker. His eyes were ruthless and hard. This was one man she wouldn't want to ever have to show down. Hell, not like she could.

He stood up and to her disappointment his pants were on and fastened. Still they rode low on his hips and her eyes followed the line of hair tapering from his chest to disappear below his belt.

Rafe narrowed his eyes. He saw where she was looking, damn it, the woman had been enjoying it. So why had she suddenly turned on him? She was as skittish as a virgin on her wedding night, but this was the seasoned Kid. He stuffed his shirt on and went in search of his boots, very aware that her gun was still drawn. Kate wasn't worth it, he thought in disgust, he didn't need to dally with some pretty outlaw. Beautiful women were everywhere, beautiful willing women.

"All right, Kate, I'll leave. And I won't touch you...unless you ask for it."

She watched the door close behind him. What the hell did that mean? Kate put the gun away and wasted no time. In the small room she quickly gathered her clothes and washed up. She slipped on her white linen shirt and jacket, put up her hair, wrapped her gun belt around her waist.

The hair went under the hat and the brim tucked low, the jacket covering what swell of her breasts the bandages couldn't hide. In the mirror the young kid looked at her with a woman's eyes.

She grabbed her bags and snuck down the stairs, careful to avoid the restaurant below. She knew a place in town that sold eggs and biscuits sopped in gravy by day, good whiskey by night. Knowing she'd been needing it soon she bought a bottle of hooch for the road with her plate of food.

Billy was hitching the team when she arrived, the men were moving a bit slowly. Probably Jerome, she mused. He wasn't used to such a pace.

She crouched down and gently examined a hoof. "Billy how much time before that slicker gets on out here?"

He shrugged. "Maybe half an hour. Better be soon."

"I'll be back. Sweetwater okay?"

He grinned a toothy smile. "He's gotten six offers since we been in town. Had to put a guard out for him. Ain't nobody offering more 'n' half what he's worth."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't sell him for anything. Keep an eye on the men. If Rafe tries to leave, keep him there. Make something up."

"Like what?"

"I don't care." She flipped some coins to him and he smiled again. "Whatever it takes, keep him out of my hair. There's money in it."

It took more than half an hour to make the rounds in town but no one had seen anything. There were a few camps on the edge of town but no time to search them and the few people she spoke with hadn't seen anybody new in the night other than a family of farmers headed their way and two Mexicans headed north.

Her instincts were never off and they told her someone was following the two men. Nothing yet had happened but the warnings from that Indian weighed heavy on her mind. The men were going to have start talking and soon. But she would be damned if it was Rafe. That man was in a whole other league, and bad for business. Jerome looked like a talker. He was city but he wasn't soft, not hard but lonely.

If she could just think of a way to separate them...

"Billy?"

He was leaning against the steps of the hotel's back entrance sipping something that looked like bad Tequila from a glass. "Yes'm?"

"If we pushed, and I know we were planning to, we could make Boise City by late. But what say you we stop about fifty miles short and make camp."

"Why's that? Only be another hour to a nice hotel room."

"Trust me on this. Let's slow down the pace enough so we have to stop for dinner. Trust me, it's tough hunting there, we'll have to make camp."

"Kid, I don't know if I'd recommend that. This is almost Rafe's country, he'll know we can make it. And he's a smart one, he'll catch on to any tricks."

"Just try it, okay? Somebody's following us but as long as we stay to towns we'll never find them. If we camp on the open plains we can flush them out. Real easy like, see?"

He saw the logic in that and nodded easily. Kate knew better, if whoever was following them was as good as she thought she was going to have set a trap. And to do that, she needed to know what animal she was trapping. Pierre had taught her many things but the most important lesson was to know the nature of the beast.

She was on Sweetwater before the men emerged, the horse prancing and antsy to be moving. She took off ahead, her face having turned red at the first sight of Rafe's boots.

Good God, what had she done? She slowed Sweetwater and groaned, lowering her head. And what had it been that made her stop? Suzy's voice.

Suzy was an older whore with a bawdy sense of humor and a dim but realistic outlook on life. She had imparted many wisdoms on sex to Kate, the good and the bad as well as the mechanics of the situation. The most resounding lesson was that a man who kissed wanted the woman; the man who didn't wanted a whore for a tussle.

She didn't want it to mean anything. Whenever she did get around to the business of sex she wanted somebody safe and distant. Rafe in theory would have worked just fine but there was something about the man that scared her, and Kate hadn't been scared of anything since she left that little cabin in the mountains.

The fear felt, well, different than the fear of loss or death, fear she was used to. It was somehow more primal and secret, a fear she couldn't commiserate over with a fellow friend sharing beers. 

Sweet was prancing in high spirits beneath her and he needed to be ridden hard. She took him out for sprints before circling back, twice falling behind the wagon in hopes she could see who was following them. Nothing.

She saw Indians moving off to the north, running a line of hunters giving them wide berth. After a stop for supper she rode out and met them on friendly ground. They'd found tracks behind them but nothing left. Whoever was following the men inside the wagon wasn't just good; they were the best.

That meant hired men, hired because if they wanted Rafe or Jerome and it was personal, they'd have made their moves or gotten sloppy. They were waiting, that meant they were waiting for orders to kill.

Sweet felt her unease and shifted beneath her as she brandished her guns in the sun, letting them glint and shine for miles. The tribal hunters had left minutes earlier, still she felt she was being watched. No one on the prairie behind them, dried dirt and dying grass rolled on for miles.

She felt the thunder roll before she saw the lightning flash. Logic told her that wasn't possible but too late the storm opened up from the only partly cloudy sky. She raced the horse back to camp where the men were cleaning up in a flurry.

"Billy, ride on ahead right quick. I'm gonna double back on that ridge."

Jerome paled. "Is somebody out there?"

"I don't know, you wanna tell me?" She leaned down on her horse to make her nose almost touch his. She didn't have to slouch far.

He reddened and slid scared eyes to Rafe. Kate stiffened, still too embarrassed to face the man. Her anger rose and she blasted it onto Jerome.

"Fine then. But these people behind us sure as hell ain't lookin' for me. Too high and mighty good at what they do. They're after you two men 'less Billy here has a career robbin' postal trains I don't know about. And there's only one reason they're waiting, and that's to make sure no one is gonna interrupt them killin' us. So you'd best pony up some information and soon.

"Now I'm gonna go out there knowing next to nuthin' if you have your way. Just be good and goddammed glad I'm the best shot around, Jerome."

At his silence she twisted the reins and nicked Sweet's flanks, shooting off. The rain came down pell-mell and she smiled into it, coat closed and hat tucked down. Couldn't have gone any better, she thought. Divide and conquer, that was the way. Rafe was angry with her but Jerome would feel guilty, and guilty men liked to talk.

If she could think of a way to act more feminine when they made camp, well, so much the better. Jerome would fawn and Rafe would get angry. He'd probably storm off leaving her to pump information out of Jerome.

She could find nothing at first so she led Sweet into some high bushes. He didn't nicker as she slapped mud on his flesh to camouflage the white. From what the hunters had told her she expected the other men to be about three miles behind.

She shuddered in the cold while the storm washed over for almost an hour before she heard it. The sound of two horses hurrying. She pulled her trusty gun out, the other ready at the hip, and led Sweet back from the bushes.

They passed, the rain too thick for her to make out more than two men on horseback, too dense for them to notice her.

She hopped up on Sweetwater who sped into action without much prodding. The horse was used to her moods and knew when she meant business. He went charging down the rutted road, nostrils flaring, mane tossing back. The wind whipped at her from behind, blowing rain down hard as lightning flashed. The storm was violent and slow moving, gathering speed as it decided what direction to go.

Now had the men known her better they'd understand what it meant to go her way. She charged the two men and pulled up alongside one, shoving him with all her might while his horse nipped at Sweet. Sweet pulled short and the other rider's horse tripped. The man went flying, a gun going off. The rider in the front circled back, gun drawn.

Kate shot at him, winging his hat as a warning. The man quickly sized up the odds and turned north, breaking for it.

Something hit her arm and the impact knocking her flat on her ass, looking up at Sweet. A shadow moved towards her and she rolled over in the mud, crawling to her knees.

He came fast and it was a kick to the gut. She oofed and went sprawling back onto her back, stunned but not down for the count.

The pain had to be pushed aside so she could deal with the attacker. She scrambled to her feet and ducked a swing. Her gun was lying in the mud, so was his. But she had another.

He swung and connected with her shoulder, she carried with the momentum and swung her wounded arm, knocking his jaw. He stumbling back revealing a smaller gun in his hand.

By the time he straightened she'd drawn and they squared off.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Shit and goddamned, yer a wommin!" he cursed and spit.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Listen missy, put the gun away real nice like. This don't concern you. I'm tracking those boys up ahead and you just chased my goddamned partner off. Now the way I see it, you owe me your horse. You take my nag here and ride off and I won't shoot you."

"You already did."

He grinned, his yellow teeth showing in the light as well as an ordinary face, unremarkable. Pity, how was she going to identify him?

A wave of wooziness hit her as she heard the thunder of hoof beats coming towards them. His partner must be doubling back. She had to act fast and made the mistake of turning her head towards the rider behind her.

She heard the click of a trigger guard and the hammer drawn back. No time to do anything but react, and she shot.

Before he got his shot off she knocked his gun from his hand but she missed the knife. As her vision dimmed he lunged and another shot exploded. This time there was no kick from her gun and she knew she was dying, shot in the back.

But it was he who crumpled to the ground, she who stayed on shaky feet. The horse stopped behind her and Sweet nickered. Strong arms came around her and she began to thrash.

"Damn it woman, it's me!"

Rafe. She was so glad to see him she forgot her embarrassment. 

She'd killed a man. She had never taken a life before and it shook her. Death was something she had been taught by the Lakota to respect and fear, to avoid at all costs.

"I shot him just in time, Kate. Is he dead?"

He'd shot him? She almost smiled in relief. "Hell if I know, MacNeil."

"Jesus, you're bleeding."

"Shot me in the arm. Get my gun, will you? I need it."

I picked it up and nudged the man with his boot. "Know him?"

"Naw," she whispered.

He turned back and wrestled her jacket off. "Just a flesh wound, bleedin' like hell, Kid."

Without another word he peeled off his shirt and ripped a sleeve off. Rolling it up he tied it around her arm and yanked it into a knot.

"Thanks," she mumbled. With his help she made it to her feet and a whistle brought Sweet to her side.

"Check him," she ordered and Rafe sent her a murderous look.

"This is not my first day on the job, Kid."

He rifled through the man's pockets but found nothing. "Hell, can't tell which one of us he was after."

"Somebody wanting to kill you, I get, but Jerome? Who wants him dead?"

Wariness entered Rafe's eyes. "Businessmen have many enemies. What happened to the other rider?"

"Shot his hat off, I could have stopped the damn fool but I got coldcocked by Mr. Stiff there."

"Well hell, I'll just turn the horse loose, Indians'll get it soon enough. We'd better make it back. I told Billy to keep going."

"You left them unprotected?" It dawned on her. "You idiot! You know someone wants you dead!"

"What would you have done if I hadn't come by?"

"Shot that damn dumb asshole holding the knife. I had it under control."

He pointedly looked at her bleeding arm. "I see."

He climbed on the carriage horse and forced her up on Sweet. Kate led the way and they rode hard towards the path to see the carriage rolling on just fine. They caught up and Billy stopped to tether the horses while Rafe and Kate climbed inside. Rafe waved Jerome off and forced some water down her throat. When it became clear she was steady but weak Rafe "consented" to letting her ride ahead. Rafe took shotgun and they planned to meet in Boise City.

They pulled in just after dinner time and Kate made her way to the only person in town she knew who could help her with the arm. Ruby Jones.

Ruby ran a clean house under the radar of the daytime folk. Her girls dressed better, drank champagne, and were never diseased. Ruby put any girls who were so unfortunate, or pregnant, in business doing the wash or something else.

Kid left Sweet on the street where the mud would keep thieves at bay and stumbled inside. Wet as she was she didn't attract much attention and had to give the barkeep her gimlet stare before he ushered her into the back office.

Ruby was bent over a fancy desk, looking for all the world a schoolmarm, or society matron. She removed her quizzing glass and stood up.

"Jesus Kid, what army did you take on?"

"Hey Ruby. I need some stitches in the arm."

"Sit down, let me take a look. George," she called to the barkeep. "Have Harry take care of Kid's horse, bring her bedroll inside."

"Her?"

"Just move, George."

Kid peeled off her jacket and let Ruby take a gander.

"Hell, it's a bleeder. You won't even need stitches. Let me just clean it up and get you a right proper bandage."

"Thanks, Ruby."

"That's what friends are for. You taking jobs?"

"Not anymore. Right now I'm takin' this tenderfoot and a hired gun to Frisco. Tenderfoot is marryin' Isabella."

"How wonderful. But why would a man with a hired gun need another hired gun? What kinda trouble are you in, Kid?"

"I don't know. Rafe's never been outside of Texas so-"

"Rafe? As in Rafe MacNeil? Oh, girl, he is a heap'a trouble. Man's got a body made for sin, or so they say., Doesn't go whorin' much. Fastest gun in these parts and sharp as a tack."

"I know." And just like that the story spilled out, every detail. Ruby had been a steady customer over the years, using Kid to track down debtors and anyone who laid a hand on her girls.

And unlike Suzy, her attempts to mother Kid had always been graceful.

"Sounds to me like the only things you have to watch for are these gunslingers, and it seems you killed one and ran off the other. Then there's MacNeil."

"Oh, great, you think he's after me for that stupid horse bounty?"

Ruby laughed and finished binding her arm. "Honey, that man is interested in you. Tell me true, you really still a virgin?"




Kate the Kid Ch. 04



Kid blushed. "Yeah."

"Well, hell, man like him and you gotta be careful. Sounds like he's after you, and a man like that, if you're a virgin he'll get foolish ideas in his head. Try to change you, they all do. And what man wants a gunslinger for a wife?"

"Actually, I'm retiring, thinking about ranching."

Ruby nodded enthusiastically at that. "Hell, Kid, you could do anything you put your mind to. Best to stick clear of men and remember that. How's that sister of yours?"

"Little Cloud? Pregnant out to here."

Ruby nodded again with a smile. "I'll put out the word tonight, see if that other man ended up here. Where can I find you?"

"Hell, I don't know. I have to find my party."

"It'll be easy to find Rafe MacNeil. He's a legend around these parts, even if he hasn't been here before. A word of advice, Kid?"

"Sure thing, Ruby."

"Honestly, you interested in what MacNeil has to offer?"

Kid shook her head. "Hell, Ruby. Honestly, I don't know."

"If you got mad he didn't kiss you sounds like you are. Take my advice. The man has...a reputation. You couldn't pick a better lover, or so they say. If you're smart you'll decide if you're wantin' a good marriage or not. If not, take what MacNeil has to offer. If so, avoid him. Man like that can ruin even the best of women, ruin them for all other men. That's the real danger."

"Know him personally?" Kid asked levelly. Inside she was angry, and puzzled as to why. Surely she couldn't be jealous.

Ruby smiled. "Know his type, know him by reputation. Now get on, find them, but know you're always welcome here."

"Thanks Ruby."

Kid pulled her jacket back on and took a pull from the whiskey that had brought in. As she left, Ruby stopped her at the door. "Kid? Good luck on your hunt, and trust me. A man like that is never worth the risk, even if you know how to protect yourself."

Kid nodded and slunk off into the night. Ruby was just confirming what she knew. All Kate had to figure out is how to protect herself.

#

It had been easy to find them, and a room had been waiting for her. Rafe was set on watch and she gratefully grabbed a bath and fell into a deep sleep. In the morning she made her way to breakfast where the other three waited.

She was clean and wore her embroidered shirt, feeling much better despite the aching bruises and wound in her arm. She'd chewed on Willow bark and the pain was now a dull ache, but still there, and her left arm would be too slow on the draw.

Still she set the whiskey on the table and ordered eggs. Three pairs of eyes just watched her.

"Any word?" she asked Rafe.

"None."

"Feeling like telling me who's after you?" she asked Jerome.

He kept his eyes down.

Kate pulled off some whiskey before capping it and took some coffee from the pot. Her eggs came and she was wolfing them down when Ruby hustled into the restaurant.

Kid waved her over and the woman scurried up to them, her huge eyes eagerly assessing the men who stood for her.

"What have you heard?"

The madam ignored her with a smile for the men. "Hi, I'm Ruby. Aren't you going to introduce me to your men, Kid?"

Kid shrugged. "They're not so important, Ruby. Not likely to make a profit off of any of 'em, except ol' Bill here. This here's Madam Ruby Jones, Billy."

He nodded and touched the brim of his hat. "Ma'am."

"Rafe MacNeil and my friend Jerome Williams."

"Ma'am," Jerome nodded.

Kid stood and took Ruby's arm, leading her outside to the porch. "What'd you find out, Ruby?"

"Seems someone wired Mulligan today asking for a hired gun. Seems the money lost two men, and he's askin' for three. Mulligan hesitated when I told him you was on the case, but the MacNeil name scared him shitless. Ain't nobody takin' the bounty."

"Next stop is Maxwell, New Mexico, they'll try there."

"You might want to talk Mr. Moneybags in there into hiring a shotgun at the very least. Mulligan is heavy artillery."

"Who's in town?"

"Mulligan and a few more of his sort, not what I'd recommend. Oh, and Dan Forth, Andy Wilkes and Ben Hartigan."

"Dan's in town? Well, hell woman, why didn't you say so?"

"You two old friends?"

"Hell yes. Point me in the right direction."

"He's at the Carter Hotel, last I heard."

Kid couldn't keep the grin off her face. "This is for Izzy, he'll work cheap."

"Kid, before you go off, after seeing MacNeil I take back what I said last night. A man like him is nothing but dangerous, keep your distance. Saw him watching you like a coyote after a bunny."

"I can take 'im, Ruby." Kid scoffed, too happy at the prospect of a friend to accept any dire warnings.

"In a gun fight, hell, maybe, but when it comes to love I seriously doubt it."

"L-" Kid couldn't even get it out. She laughed, long and hard, feeling some tension bleed out. "Hell Ruby, you of all people should know that's an illusion for people like us. Izzy and Mr. Moneybags? That's real. The rest of us just take what we can get."


"You're too damn young to be so jaded, Kid."

"Hey, when you were my age you founded your establishment and I bet you were twice as jaded."

"That's just it. Find a nice man, settle down, ranch. Get out of this life. Don't end up like me, Kid. You're too bright a star."

Staring down the road Kid sighed. "Thanks, Ruby. Can you do me another favor?"

Ruby ruffled her fan against her face. "Only for you at this ungodly hour."

"Roust Dan and tell him Kid has a paying job, the money's from Izzy's man."

"Can do. You authorized to hire people, Kid?"

"Hell, yes."

Ruby laughed and stepped off the porch. "Oh, and Kid?"

"Yeah, Ruby?"

"When you do settle down I want to be the first to know. You're gonna be damn hard to replace. You're a dying breed. Hell, maybe I'll hire MacNeil."

Kid laughed and turned back inside.

#

"Absolutely not!" Rafe underscored his point with a slap to the table, making the other patrons jump. He did not want Kate's people outnumbering him.

Kate just gave him her unreadable look and glanced at Jerome. "It's your ass I'm looking out for. I'll feel a whole helluva lot better with a trusted man on shotgun. Forth is the best and we'll need it. Serious money is out there. They tried to hire Mulligan."

"They? Mulligan?" Rafe sat up. "Did Mulligan take it?"

"Not once he heard your name, MacNeil. Nobody here has, but that only means there's trouble waiting in Sayre. Now we have three choices. One, you tell me who's after you and I send Forth out to get 'em. Two, we stick to the towns and try to flush them out before we hit Frisco. Or three, we stay off the roads and hope we just lose 'em.

"Now as Isabella is my highest priority I vote for the first one."

Jerome looked at Rafe who just scowled. 

"We don't know if anyone is after Jerome. Business deals fall through all the time. But nothing so big as to hunt him through the west."

"Fine, keep mum. I have no choice but to insist on this man. He'll be worth every penny, Jerome."

"How much?"

"Three hundred, less if he rousts 'em before Frisco."

"Done."

Rafe felt his stomach lurch. "Jerome-"

"Given those two men the other day how can you argue?"

Rafe just stood up and calmly walked out, in search of fresh air and a smoke. Pulling a cheroot from his pocket he lit up and clenched his fist. Damn it, Jerome had asked for his help because of his expertise and now he was refusing it. Undone by a mere slip of a girl. It was too much.

He made sure the fresh team was harnessed and brought the coach around just to keep busy. He wanted his own mount something fierce but he knew Kate would ride inside with Jerome if Rafe was riding solo. And his friend would spill every detail if he wasn't there to chaperone.

Kate was looking for money to retire, or so he'd been told when he checked around. If she sold out Jerome there would be more than enough. Did she really love Isabella so much she'd protect the man who was taking her friend away?

"Thanks," Billy nodded, climbing up.

Rafe nodded and dropped down, heading inside for his bags. When he came out he saw a sight that set his teeth on end.

Forth was tall, almost as tall as he, and blonde. He had a pretty face, dark eyes, and a crooked, wide smile. He was tanned and weathered, obviously an outdoors man. And he only had eyes for Kate who ran into his arms, jumped up, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Rafe pulled his cigarillo from his lips and ground it to a pulp in his hand.

Jerome stepped out with a chuckle. "At last, the woman who can ignore you for another man. I never thought I'd live to see this day."

"Shut up, Jerome. Has it not occurred to you that this man could be her lover? You're worth a helluva lot to kidnappers."

His friend turned to him with that look in his eye that made all other men back a step away. "Isabella swears by her and I trust her with my life. Perhaps now that we have Kid's friend we don't need you to keep going."

Rafe would be damned before he let a friend go off into the wilds alone with a woman he couldn't get a clear read on. He understood the threat and backed down.

"I'll keep my peace, Jerome."

"Good."

Kate walked over. "Dan Forth this is Mr. Jerome Williams, Izzy's fiancé, and his friend Rafe MacNeil."

"Williams." Dan shook his hand firmly and turned to Rafe. "Not the Rafe MacNeil?"

"In the flesh." He squeezed Dan's hand tightly but the man didn't flinch.

"So you need a man to ride shotgun. No problem. But Mr. Williams, you already have two of the best in the business, why do you need a third?"

Jerome just shrugged.

"Better safe than sorry, junior."

Dan gave him a knowing smile and shook his head. "What the hell. Anything for Izzy and the Kid."

"You old friends?"

"Kid and I go way back. Izzy is the most recent addition to our little circle. Mr. Williams, you couldn't have chosen a better woman."

"Indeed." Jerome offered a genuine smile.

"So what is it, exactly, that you do Mr. Forth?"

"This, that, the other. Same as you. Same as the Kid."

Rafe scowled at their casual closeness, Forth's arm around Kate's shoulders.

Kate shook her head. "We need to get moving. Sayre is a long way off and I want to make it before it's too late. Everybody ready?"

The men nodded and boarded the coach. Kate smoothly climbed up on Sweetwater, surprising Rafe. They rolled off heading west at their lumbering pace.

Rafe watched Kate glance back at the coach with a rare smile for Dan and knew the next few weeks were going to be murder.



Kate the Kid Ch. 05



Kid knew Dan was immune to Rafe's male posturing. Dan had a sense of humor that was rare and distinctly his own. Kid wanted Rafe gone, had been hoping he'd turn back, but he was still there.

And the look he'd given Dan when she'd hugged him, well, that had been too proprietary by half. She was puzzled and more than a little sick of the secrecy and lies. MacNeil wasn't giving up his seat in the coach and he surely knew that Jerome was ready to talk.

Dan and Billy chatted companionably and Dan's smile was boyishly open, but his dark eyes scanned the horizon like the pro he was. Kate dropped behind and rode ahead by turns, searching for any signs of life. There were none, which meant they might have a free pass to Sayre.

Dan was her second oldest friend. She'd just left little Cloud and met Spotted Horse as they'd both been running from the city. She with a stolen horse, he with a woman who'd paid for help to escape a bad marriage, Dan's sister. She was now Spotted Horse's wife.

Dan had been at the wedding, the only person there besides Marie and Spotted Horse to bother to talk to her, and he who taught her how to dance. Dan had been like a big brother, the man who'd helped her get the post with the company on the Oregon trail.

He ran in the north plains mostly and they'd worked together several times. Finnegan was an old partner of his, the man Dan had suggested she seek out for her first jobs as a hired gun.

Of their little circle only she and Dan were still working the wild west trails and homesteads. Spotted Horse had been long tamed by Marie and Isabella had always been proper, now Finnegan was settling in to become a miner or a farmer. She was the youngest of the group, true, but she had always imagined their adventures would continue for a long time.

The day passed quietly and Kate took the supper break to explain what was going on. Rafe and Jerome chatted with Billy across the little fire and Rafe shot them dirty looks, probably wondering if they were leading them into an ambush. For a secretive lecher the man was too suspicious by half.

They only made it to Maxwell by dinner and ate quietly in the hotel dining room. There were chicken pies, snap peas, and apple tarts. Everybody ate well and then Jerome and Billy lumbered to their rooms, leaving the guns.

Dan moved up a chair to sit at Kate's elbow and Rafe's jaw ticked. 

She was too tired to deal with any crap. "I'm going to bed. You're both more than capable of figuring out the watch schedule."

She grabbed one of the two room keys on the table and left them in silence. All she could hope is that Rafe would make some comment disparaging her and Dan would knock his block off.

She climbed the stairs, found her room, and got ready for bed with that fantasy putting a smile on her lips.

Downstairs Dan and Rafe stared at each other. Rafe felt himself tightening as if for a fight, then Dan cracked a smile.

"Hell boy, if you're lookin' at Kid like that I'd best disabuse you of that notion."

"What," Rafe picked his tone carefully, "do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean I've known Kid, hell, eight or nine years now. In all that time I've seen only a handful of men look at the Kid as a woman, and I've seen her laugh in all their faces."

"Have you, now?"

"Hell, don't go thinkin' like that. Met her when she helped my sister get out of a bad marriage. Kept her husband from puttin' a hand on Marie before I'd given my blessing along with the preacher. Girl has a heart of gold and just as cold."

"Hmm," was all Rafe said. 

Dan cracked a smile. "So, you want the first watch or shall I?"

"I'll go around first. I'll ask at the saloons and keep watch on the road before I come get you."

"Don't bother. I'll catch some shut eye and relieve you about one. Okay?"

"Fine. Then I ride shotgun tomorrow, you sleep in the coach."

"Sounds fine by me."

Rafe watched him leave the dining room, headed upstairs, and wondered at the words. Perhaps there was more to Kate than met the eye.

#

Rafe had no idea what had possessed him, but in the middle of the night he found himself picking the lock on Kid's room. She was in bed, the sheets were in total disarray, and her thin shirt was up almost to her waist.

Damn but the woman had nice legs. They were sleeker than any woman's he'd ever seen, probably because she looked like she was born in the saddle. Her hair was tousled and he saw it was wavy, shining in the low burning candle.

Jesus he was asking for trouble. Hadn't she threatened to kill him if he touched her again? But when she'd been sleepy, she'd been all too soft and pliant. The memory of that had him kneeling on the bed.

He knew he shouldn't be there, should just take his need and go find some willing whore. There had been many who had made themselves available for him, but none with her hair, her strength, her inner fire.

This was madness, but he told himself he had to touch her. Had to know if she would wake up soft and pliant, expecting Dan Forth in her bed, or if she was dreaming of him.

He slid his hand along her hip and she barely moved, deeply in sleep. Her shirt was open and he slipped his hand inside to cup her warmth, felt the heft of a breast in his palm. He felt so hard and swollen, ready to explode and desperate to feel more.

Instead he forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly as he slowly dragged the pad of his thumb across her nipple. She gasped and moaned at that. Encouraged, he repeated the motion.

"Rafe," she moaned.

"Jesus." He was lost then.

Kate was dreaming about a hunt. She and the other women of the village were preparing for a great feast, roasting vegetables in the fire. Some noise at the edge of the grove of trees called her.

White Eagle was due back soon, and she eagerly awaited his return, but something called to her from the trees. She crept closer and knew someone was watching her. She should have been afraid, should have called to her family for help, but she kept creeping closer.

There in the tree was a wild cat. Her breath caught in her throat as it came closer and she saw the strange eyes belonged to a man.

"Rafe," she called, and opened her eyes.

The room was dark, and something was off. She grabbed her gun and whirled, only to have it ripped from her hands.

She cursed a blue streak in French until a heavy body pressed her down in to the mattress, a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shhh, it's me," Rafe said.

If he expected this to calm her he was insane. She went soft and pliant, waiting for him to relax, and once he did she kneed him in the balls as hard as possible.

He let out a strangled sound and rolled off of her. She found her footing and gun, clicking back the hammer and pointing it straight at his heart. "Care to explain what you're doing in my room?"

"Dying," he wheezed out. "Jesus, Kate, you didn't have to do that."

"No, I guess I should have just laid there and let you rape me."

She couldn't see too well in the dark but she could see he froze. "Christ, is that what you think of me?"

Never in all the tales she'd heard of Rafe MacNeil had she heard him be anything other than a friend to or a good time to a woman. It figured she'd have to be the exception.

"Get out and stay out. Do I make myself clear?"

He swung up onto his feet and in the scant moonlight she saw he was fully dressed. "You look at me as if you want me. When you're asleep you can't get enough of me. What is it? You have some history with Dan Forth, or is it just you need money to spread your favors?"

He pulled something from his pocket and held it up. "Ten dollars here, Kate, what'll that buy me?"

Rage such as she'd never known gripped her. She didn't shoot him, she wanted to strangle him with her bare hands. The gun fell to the mattress and she lunged for him. Rafe was big but gracefully, and sidestepped, wrapping his arms around her and using her momentum to swing her up against his chest.

Kate was breathless at his strength, paralyzed by the feel of his hard warm body against hers. He had her pinned so tightly she couldn't move, could barely breathe, and they remained locked like that, staring at each other's shadowy face for long minutes. 

For a mad moment she thought he would kiss her, for a crazy moment she wanted him to. She whimpered, terrified of losing herself, of making a mistake that would alter her life.

Glancing down into her eyes Rafe saw something that burned his very soul. Finally he loosened and stepped back. "Kate, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Get out," she said lowly and to her shame even she could hear the tears in her throat. Kate was braced for an argument, but he quietly shoved the money back in his pocket and slipped past her, closing the door softly.

Kate trembled for the span of a few heartbeats and then wedged a chair under the doorknob. Her head was spinning, wondering how in the hell she'd given him the impression she was a whore. She meant nothing to him; he and Jerome didn't trust her, and Rafe wanted to use her. And she was panting after him like a stupid girl with a crush. Clutching her gun to her chest, she cried herself to sleep.

In the next room Jerome was waiting for Rafe. When his friend entered, Jerome grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up against the wall. "What the hell were you doing?" he growled.

"Heard that, did you?" Rafe said evenly, unaffected by his friend's temper. "I made a mistake."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat you to a bloody pulp and leave you here tomorrow?"

Rafe pushed him back and dropped to the ground, adjusting his collar. "Because royal ass I might be, I'm still one of the best guns around and you need me."

Jerome stalked back to his bed, swiping a hand through his hair. When he spoke he was too angry to turn around. "Be that as it may, Bella loves that woman like a sister. If you so much as look at her too long and Bella hears of it, I will kill you myself. Is that clear?"

He waited for an answer but none came. He turned and saw his room was empty. Cursing, Jerome poured himself a glass of port and cradled his head. He was letting his best friend back them into a corner, and it was going to put everyone at risk. He didn't want to have to choose between his best friend and Bella's, but if he did, at least he knew which way he leaned.

#

Dan scanned the road in, but he knew that the biggest threat was in town. From what Kid had told him the last hired guns were chased off or dead, so any new ones would most likely be hired in town.

He didn't like secrets, he didn't like bullies, and at that moment, he didn't like Rafe MacNeil. From what he'd heard of the man Rafe was a good man, but the lies and the hiding made Kid wary, and Dan trusted her judgment. 

He heard someone behind him and moved quietly, raising his shotgun to the stranger's chest. Surprisingly, it was MacNeil standing there.

"Is anything wrong?"

MacNeil growled and shook his head. "I'll stand watch tonight. Get some sleep."

"But-"

"Get some sleep," MacNeil said and Dan gulped.

"Fine by me," Dan said, but his distrust ensured he'd keep watch on Rafe the whole of the night.

#

Billy met the others with a whistling tune on his lips that died at the sight of them. No one appeared well rested, everyone looked grim. "Shit, we're gonna get killed out there, ain't we?"

At four gimlet stares he but his lip and climbed up. Forth sat next to him, the other two men sat inside below, and he expected to see Kid on her horse, but Sweet was nowhere in sight.

"You leavin' us?"

"I'm going to stay behind and see who else leaves. And when I catch up, one of you had better talk," she directed inside the coach. 

Billy waved her off, looked up at the sky, and smiled at the sunshine. 

"Why are you so happy?" Dan grumbled next to him.

"It's as fine a day to die as any, I suppose. Yah!" He whipped the team into motion and the coach rumbled off, leaving the hired gun to shake his head.

#

Kate watched the coach roll off and turned, heading for the Western Union office. Inside the operator was an older man with an easy smile and thick glasses.

"Where to?"

"San Francisco, Isabella Vercelli at the Rockport Inn, Green Street."

"Message?"

"In Sayre, Jerome's friend is idiot, stop. Someone is trying to kill Jerome, stop. Jerome won't tell me who, stop. Wire the hotel Plemons in Red River NM, stop, with order to Jerome to talk, stop. Have hired Dan Forth to help, stop. Rafe MacNeil is an idiot, stop."

The operator stared at her for a moment then shook his head. "Eight dollars, then."

Kate paid him in cash, letting a ten slide along with it. "Any wire come in asking for hired guns?"

"I don't remember things too well," he said slyly.

Sighing she slid another ten. "Memory better now?"

"Someone did, but no takers. The name Rafe MacNeil is well known here, we're damn close to Texas, kid. No one will take it in Red River, either, you can bank on that."

Great, so she only had to worry once they made camp in Dulce.

Well, she grinned as she left, if she was ever ready for a fight, it was today.

#

She made Red River in three and a half hours, a full thirty minutes before the coach. The telegraph office had a letter addressed to Jerome, and Kate bought it for five dollars. Sweet was lathered and by the time she wiped him down and buried his nose in oats the coach rumbled in.

It was clear Rafe and Jerome had been sleeping; Dan looked ready to drop. Billy took care of the horses while Jerome purchased lunch, arranging for a private room in one of the three restaurants in town.

They ate in silence until Kate spoke as their plates were pulled away. "Rafe better ride shotgun and let Dan get some sleep. And Sweet needs a rest, I'll tether him behind the coach so he can go at a slower pace. I'll ride inside."

She could feel Rafe's emerald eyes boring into her face but she refused to look at him. He looked rumpled and boyish despite the scowl, and she knew if she met his gaze she'd blush like an idiot.

"Fine," Jerome said, and paid the check.

Kate settled into the coach and sat next to Jerome, letting Dan spread out on the opposite bench. He put his hat over his face and began to snore before they moved out.

"I sent Izzy a telegram, and this was her reply," Kate said softly and handed him the telegram.

Jerome ripped it open and read it, a queasy look crossing his striking features. "Hell."

"So are you going to talk?"

He set the paper down and pulled his hat off, rolling his head to loosen his neck. "I've been friends with Bella, Izzy, for years. But before we...became romantically involved I was engaged to be married. 

"George Whittaker Sr. owns a shipping company, like mine. We both ship over land, and I was to marry his daughter. Jane was- is a social climbing woman of...ill repute. It was purely a business deal. Then I met Izzy and begged off. Whitaker was angry, but then Jane ran off with some man she'd been seen with."

"And you think they have something to do with this?"

Jerome shook his head. "It makes no sense. Jane's reputation is shattered now, and I'm the second man to have cried off. The marriage and the merger is impossible now. Whittaker might want to kill me, but why bother to send me these?"

He pulled a packet from his jacket inside pocket and passed it to her. Kate read the notes, the warnings not to marry Isabelle, not to move his company past the frontier into the western states.

"Sounds like the combination of a woman scorned and a greedy man to me."

Jerome nodded and took the notes back. "Did Izzy ever explain to you how her husband's will was structured?"

"Not in detail."

"Her husband left his brother in charge of the company, but Izzy is the owner. I've drawn up papers so that when we're married not even I can touch it, it will pass to our children. Franco would inherit the company if anything were to happen to Izzy before she had children."

"She's safe at the Rockport, she has friends in Frisco, and no one would let any harm come to her. They know I'd kill 'em."

"No threats have come through to Izzy, but it makes sense. Did she ever tell you why she came to America after Benito's death?" he asked and Kate shook her head no. "Franco tried to court her right after the funeral. Bastard wants her to have his children, that would be the quickest, cleanest way to inherit."

The gears in her mind turned. "So you think this Franco has hired someone to kill you, hoping Izzy'll turn to him for comfort? He's either ten kinds of stupid or he don't know that woman at all."

"Both, I should think," Jerome said with a smile. "So what do I do?"

"You concentrate on staying alive. When we settle into Santa Rosa I'll work with Dan on figuring this out. You should have trusted me from the start, Jerome. This is what I do; I find people. I'm good at it too, out here better than Rafe."

"I know, I'm sorry. He's not very trusting and I guess I didn't want to think this was serious. You're right; Izzy trusts you, I should have as well."

Kate shifted in her seat, unsure "So tell me, what did Izzy say that finally made you talk?"

"She said that if I didn't, she'd let you shoot me anywhere you wanted."

Kate couldn't help it; she laughed until tears rolled down her cheek.

#

Dulce was a small town that would never grow far. There was the coach line that came through, and it was a regular stop for ranch hands returning from cattle drives. There was a tiny bank, a small hotel, a boarding house, two saloons, and a whorehouse. That was about it.

Kate led them to the cleaner saloon where a meal could be bought, but there were still games afoot, and women lounging around waiting for a good time. Sitting between three of the best looking men she had ever seen, Kate sat through no less than eleven whores soliciting the men.

After the meal Billy left with one and then Dan. As he went Kate could feel Rafe's eyes drilling into her once more, but what did she care what her friend did? Then Jerome left to secure the rooms and she and Rafe were left alone.

"Guess it's my turn to keep watch," Kate said.

"And what would that entail?"

"There's no telegram office here, no way to hire anyone. The hotel has two rooms only. The whorehouse has rooms by the hour only. Anyone who comes in will pass through one of the saloons and stay there. I just have to keep an eye on them."

His jaw ticked. "I can't leave a woman alone in a saloon all night."

She laughed heartily, drawing a few glances. "And how the hell do you think I got along for twenty four years without you? I managed just fine."

His eyes narrowed and she knew he wanted to argue, but how could he? "I'm doing this as a favor to Izzy, MacNeil, just as you're doing this as a favor to Jerome. You know what that makes us? Nothing."

She left him there and glanced around the room. Local ranch hands, men out for a lark, no one to be wary of. Satisfied, she went to the rougher saloon and looked for a game.

"Deal me in, boys," she said and pulled a chair up to a poker table.

The men there were grizzled, men who sometimes herded cattle, sometimes looked for trouble. "Fifty just to buy in, puttin' up, boy?"

She peeled off the bills and slapped them down with a grin. "Call me Kid."

#

Now Kate was pissed. She hadn't even been cheating, and she was facing three pairs of angry eyes and one accuser. She was no fool; the man wanted a fight. He'd heard of her, probably wanted to test her.

"Outside, now," she said and he nodded.

The bar, which had been paying rapt attention to the argument, spilled out into the night in a cacophony of drunken chants and epithets, urging the violence on with pure bloodlust.

The hand and she squared off, both walking back ten paces, parting the crowd as they went. The moon was a quarter full and only the saloons had gas lamps outside, light spilling out their windows.




Kate the Kid Ch. 05



Madame Beth who'd once worked for Ruby, hurried out. "Kid that's Willie Anderson. They call him Black Death around here. They say he killed his master when he was eight, lived as a fugitive slave out here, and now he's making a name for himself as a gun fighter. He's modified his Colt, super fast."

"Thanks Beth, but I can take him. You ready?" She called down to Willie.

"Sure I..."

His eyes rounded at something behind her. Before Kate could turn around someone yanked on her collar and she stumbled back into a hard body.

"You'd shoot a woman?" Rafe yelled at her opponent.

"Shit man, that's the Kid," Willie yelled back. "This don't involve you."

"The hell it doesn't," Rafe growled and plucked her hat off. The sudden action made her hair fall and most of the crowd gasped.

She tried to stomp on his foot but Rafe anticipated the move and sidestepped.

"Sorry man, I had no idea. No harm, no foul, okay?"

He was apologizing to Rafe! Dying of embarrassment Kate resisted screaming as Rafe nodded and dragged her away. The crowd stared as he took her awkwardly all the way back to the hotel.

He picked up a key from the clerk who did his best to ignore Kate's cursing and struggling, and then they climbed the stairs and were inside a room.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" She yelled.

"Saving your ass. You're supposed to be protecting Jerome, not drinking, gambling, and doing your best to get killed."

"You let the whole goddamn world know I'm a woman! This time next week everyone will know!"

He shrugged as if that meant nothing.

"You idiot! This is my life, this is how I earn a living! Who will hire a woman now to track down bounties? You tell me!"

"You'll survive, which is more than I can say for gun fighting. That man down there was serious, he-"

"So am I! The week before I met you I won two gunfights with men twice as experienced as Willie down there. I would have smoked his ass too, MacNeil. What the hell is it with you? You're not my brother, you're not my father, you're nothing to me!"

"Damn it, I'm just trying to help you!"

"No, you patronizing SOB, you're trying to treat me like some weak little woman. I'm nothing like that! I can skin a mule, I can win a gun fight. Hell I was a scout on the damn Oregon Trail! I'm not some little girl who needs protection. Do I seem like a child to you?"

He stepped closer and stared down at her. "No. No you don't."

She opened her mouth to yell again and he did something that shocked her to her core; he kissed her.

His mouth was hot, searing, and he took advantage of her parted lips and slid his tongue inside. Her head swam and she tasted whisky and man, felt his stubble scratch her. His hands were buried in her hair, cupping her head, angling her for a deeper kiss. 

Kate was lost.

In all her life the only other man she'd ever kissed had been Lone Wolf, and it had never been like this. They'd both been young, soft, inexperienced in so many ways. All thoughts of him disappeared as Rafe pressed her body into his, his muscles making her feel small and soft, all the things she feared.

Just when she worried she would surrender completely he yanked back, and a soft protest escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"You don't like me, you're very nervous around me. I don't trust you, and I've been told by my friend that if I so much as look at you too long he'll beat me to a bloody pulp.

"So tell me, why can't I stop thinking about you, about this? Why do you kiss me back? Why do you dream about me?"

She blushed furiously and swallowed, her throat dry, her palms sweaty, her body feeling heavy and aching. "I- I don't."

"Don't lie to me, Kate. The other night you said my name in your sleep. Why do you hide it like some simpering virgin instead of this woman of the world you say you are? What game are you playing?"

Furious Kate didn't answer, she just grabbed her saddle bag and stormed out, heading for Beth's whorehouse hoping there was a room for her. She couldn't wait to dump Jerome off and escape back to Chicago, now if only she could figure out how to erase the memory of Rafe MacNeil, and the way he kissed.

#

The next morning Rafe avoided Jerome by setting out to find Kate. If her past actions were a good indicator he knew he'd find her in the whorehouse. That pissed him off more than anything in recent memory.

So entered prepared to do battle.

The madam stepped up with a yawn and a smile. "A bit early, mister. Come to collect your lady?"

"She's not my lady," Rafe growled.

"That's not what you told the town, last night."

"I was trying to save her fool butt from a gunshot. Now is she here?"

He tried to move past her but the plump woman put a hand on his chest. "Mister, Kid's a friend of mine. She's not out looking for fights, hell, she's planning to retire after she gets your friend to her friend. Don't muck it up for her."

He raised a dark brow at that. "And just how is keeping her in tact harming her?"

She smiled and shook her head. "You know what I mean. I've known Kid for years now. I've seen her handle men twice as scary as you like they were simply bad puppies. You got her scared and there's only one reason I can reckon. You want a tussle with her." 

"That's none of your business."

She sighed. "Believe it or not it is."

His heart froze. He knew it; Kate was earning money by night in the oldest profession. "Oh, really?" he drawled, prepared to do battle.

"I love that girl like a sister and I'll de damned if I let a brute like you deflower her and scare the hell out of her. She deserves to retire, marry a good man, have a good life. Don't take that from her."

He was stunned, unable to move or speak for a long moment. "She, I- deflower- what?"

"She's a good woman, with a good heart. Unless you want to make her an honest woman, you stay clear of her. You hear me?"

With horror he thought of lying in bed with her, touching her, creeping into her room, kissing her. And she was the simpering virgin he accused her at playing at. No wonder she was scared of him, he probably looked like a crazed rapist in her eyes.

"You didn't know?" the madam asked with two raised brows.

"I..."

She laughed and then backed up. "Son, you're about as out of your depth as a man can be. Don't be fooled by that tough girl exterior, the Kid is human underneath it all. She's a good person, she's great at what she does. Just stay out of her hair and it'll go smoother."

"You expect me to let her get killed over some stupid card game?"

"Look, I was young once, believe it or not, and I know how girls think. Kid doesn't think she's the same as the rest of us, but she is. You come into her life with that pretty face and those muscles, you start taking care of her, and she's gonna get ideas in her head. She's gonna have dreams that a man like you can't fulfill."

"A man like me?" He wasn't sure why he was insulted, just that he was.

"You're good for a night, she's gonna need someone there for the long haul. Now why don't you run along, I'll wake her up and send her along. And mister, if you're heading back to Frisco you'll know soon enough that Kid has friends like me in every town, and we're watching you."

Feeling six kinds of an ass, Rafe left.

#

Something was different in the air. Kate could feel tension between Jerome and Rafe and so during the long trek she did her best to ignore them. Dan and Billy talked companionably, Dan's eyes searching as did hers.

She looked for trouble but didn't find it, and in the afternoon she'd run ahead to Shiprock to wire Finnegan for help. Someone was hiring to kill Jerome, and someone was sending those wires from Boston. Finnegan had family back there, friends, if anyone could track down the source it was him.

She rejoined the group but rode scout and dropped back every so often until they pulled into Nos Pos, Arizona. Another small town this one was a little more bustling. Cowpokes black and white mixed with Indians trading, Chinese were heading east for work along railroads. Rooms were sparse and again they ended up with two to share between the five of them.

Since Rafe, Dan, and Kate were sharing sentry duties they decided to split the night in three and share a room, leaving Jerome and Billy to doze in the other.

Rafe took the first shift by drawing the low card, and he left with a strange glance at her and Dan.

Dan watched him go with a puzzled frown. "Kid, he's trouble."

"Tell me about it. He single handedly ruined my gun fighting career in one night. The second Izzy and Jerome go on a honeymoon I'm going to shoot off something he'll miss."

Dan laughed at that. "I mean he has the run of Texas. The governor hires him, for Chirst's sake. He's one of the heaviest hitters, taking jobs from all over the east. He's awful suspicious of you, anything you wanna share?"

"I told him about my little 'bank robbery' and the only other bounty on me is an old horse stealing charge. It's years old, from Chicago, I'm not even scared to go back there. I don't know what he thinks I did, but he treats me either like a criminal or a simpering little miss."

Dan frowned deeply at that. "Just how in the hell is this guy friends with one of the biggest American shipping magnates? They seem like an odd pair."

"And Izzy and I aren't?"

He smiled at that. "All right, so circumstances make strange bedfellows. So did you wire Finnegan?"

"Yeah. By the time we get to Frisco we should have a name."

"I hope to hell so. I don't know about you, Kid, but I feel better when I'm hunting than when I'm being hunted."

"You ain't kidding," she said, and turned off the gas lamp.

#

The air was chilly. They were in the high plains, near the desert, and when the sun wasn't close it was darn near freezing, even in the summer. It was an early start she was after, and Billy obligingly put a fresh team on and loaded up.

Something told her there would be more trouble that day, and so she changed her plans.

"Jerome?"

"Yeah?" He yawned wide.

"It's too easy to blend into towns, and keep our schedule. Can you ride?"

"Yeah, why?"

"We need to buy some mounts when we stop for lunch. I think we should send Billy, the coach, and a gun ahead, you me and another ride alone. Feel up to camping?"

For all his masculinity, Jerome paled. "Kid, I think I'd rather be shot."

"Izzy says you arrive in tact, and so I'll deliver you."

She rode off then, scouting the trail. When the sun burst it'd be hotter 'n' hell, so she best check to see how many gulches and washes were flush. If it was dry, they'd stick to the towns, if they were wide, then her plan would work.

She found a wash flush and cool with mountain water and smiled. Dan wanted to be the hunter? Soon they'd have their chance.

At midday she watched Jerome spend more money than she'd ever seen, save when Izzy bought the Rockport. She advised him on horseflesh, Rafe on clothing and supplies, both of them on a gun. Since Dan was closest to Jerome's height it was decided that he would go on with Billy and the coach.

They switched clothes in the boarding house, and when Kate saw Dan in Jerome's suit and bowler she let out a low whistle that had her old friend blushing. "Hell boy, you clean up good."

"Yeah, you should try it Kate. I bet Finnegan I'd see you in a dress before the year is out and it looks like the bastard might win."

She hugged him, doing her best to ignore the other men, and wished him luck. He climbed in the coach and Billy sped away.

Turning back she was surprised, but grinned at Jerome. He no longer looked a tenderfoot, but like a fierce gunslinger. "Izzy'd swoon. You ready?"

Rafe cleared his throat. "You sure this will work?"

"Now that Jerome's been honest, of course it will. We ride for two days letting the world see it's Jerome with us. We switch again and Dan takes his place. When the ambush comes we'll have three of the best guns in the west."

"I trust her," Jerome said, and fluidly mounted his horse.

Kate mounted up, and when Rafe followed, kicked Sweet in gear and entered the open plains in good spirits. It felt good to be in charge again, in command.

"Kate," Rafe called.

She wanted to dig her knees into Sweet's sides and spur him on, but she knew it would look childish and so she let him ride up alongside her.

In the rising sun he was easily the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, his looks enhanced by the deep sadness she saw in his eyes. "Kate I'm sorry. I was worried about you, I had too much to drink- hell, there's no excuse. I've been an ass, plain and simple."

"Yes, you have," she said simply and kept staring forward.

"Look, would you slow down?"

She dug in her knees a little and Sweet's pace picked up.

"Slow down, Kate. Damn it, I said slow down."

His mount came astride and he jerked the reins from her grasp. With one sharp pull of muscle he stopped the horses, and she whirled to the side.

She found herself nose to nose with him, his green eyes peering so deep into her she feared he saw all her secrets. She licked her lips, nervous, and his pupils broadened.

"Jerome's fallen behind," he said, and dropped her reins, sidestepping his mount back.

"Oh." Looking back she saw Jerome awkwardly moving his horse towards them.

"Kate, can we start over again, just you be Bella's friend and I'll be Jerome's. Nothing more, nothing less."

She looked at his outstretched hand, free of the glove, and stared for a long moment. "Is this some sort of a trick? Capitulation since Jerome's already told me those foolish secrets you made him horde?"

"I'm trying to do the right thing, Kate. We're here to keep Jerome safe, not pick on each other. You've proven yourself, let me."

She looked between his face and hand before finally pulling off her own glove and shaking it. He had a firm grip, and where their flesh touched she felt a tingle.

"What's this?" Jerome said as he finally caught up. "You two playing nice?"

Kate jerked her hand back and blushed, tucking her hat brim lower. "Looks that way. Jerome, I thought you said you could ride."

"Purebreds, when I went hunting in upstate New York. This mongrel is barely more than a carriage horse."

She reached over and stroked his horse's snout, and the fussy animal quieted. "Horses sense your mood. You must be worried."

"I feel exposed out here."

"City folk," she found herself saying to Rafe as if he was a friend. "This here is safe. Terrain is flat, we can see for miles. No one can sneak up on us. Your cities have too many places to hide."

"But you live in San Francisco."

"Only part of the year. Come on now, let's get moving."

They rode in silence, eyes constantly scanning, and it was Rafe who finally called for a meal break, and rest for Jerome. They made camp and Rafe built a small fire for coffee and biscuits. Jerome rested and made several vulgar comments about his backside while Kate led the horses to water and pulled her bow out.

Licking her thumb she tested the wind and felt the direction and speed. She ripped one quill from an arrow, and put the rest on her back. She had seen big horn sheep a ways back, too big for a midday meal, but in the brush she knew javelina were near. Though they resembled boars they were technically closer to horses, but they cooked like pigs and cured well.

It took ten minutes of quiet waiting but a young male wandered into range. Testing the wind again she aimed, and it was a quick painless kill. She was far enough from camp to dress the animal there, leaving the entrails for bears and bobcats so they'd keep away from the fire.

Then she dragged the hog back.

Rafe and Jerome stared at her like she was a native god there to place a curse. "We can cook enough for supper, and smoke the rest while we teach you to shoot," she addressed Jerome.

Rafe built the fire up as she began to peel off the skin. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's like a pig, tastes the same. I know how to cook it."

She put on three steaks from flank over the large fire, and they ate quickly, sopping the juices with warm biscuits. Jerome told stories of exploits in the city dodging youths on penny-farthings and local crazies in phaetons.

She cut strips to smoke as Rafe showed Jerome the basics of gun ownership. By the time she joined them he knew how to load and unload, and handle it safely.

"Want to try shooting?" she asked.

Jerome grinned at her like a boy with a toy. "Hell yes."

"Easy now," Rafe said and stepped between them. "He needs to learn how to clean it, first."

"Cleaning won't do him any good when someone's shooting," Kate said pointedly, and she expected Rafe to argue, but to her surprise he put his palms out in surrender and stepped back.

"Let the lesson commence then."

"All right, Jerome let's start easy. See that big bush over there?" She pointed west.

"Yes."

"Shoot it, any part of it."

He missed it by half a mile, in her mind's eye. "You, ah, shooting with the right hand?"

He held up his left. "Sure am. Let me try again."

Half an hour later they'd determined he was useless with a pistol, but an idea formed in her mind. He'd mentioned hunting, and so she found Sweet at the water, laying down in the shade, and pulled her rifle from her pack. It was brand new, culled from a Navy shipment. She'd modified it so it shot smokeless, and it was her baby, but if he could shoot that she'd be happy to loan it.

She walked back to see Rafe shoot the hell out of a poor little bush demonstrating to Jerome, who was looking at him as if he'd spoken the lesson in Latin.

"Here," she said, and thrust the rifle at Jerome.

He holstered his gun and took it, and while they watched shot three small bushes completely out of the ground. When he was done he grinned.

Kate grinned back. "Holy hell, the rifle works. All right, you two grab the horses and I'll pack up camp."

The only scrap linen they had was a shirt of Rafe's, the one he'd torn the sleeve off for her when she'd been shot. She picked it up to rip it into pieces, but she caught his scent. Limes, leather, sweat. Making sure they were out of sight she held it to her nose, and closed her eyes. The smell of him made her body melt, and she moaned softly.

A twig snapped nearby and she jerked the cloth away. Her eyes met Rafe's and he blushed almost as deeply as she did. She quickly ripped the shirt and rolled the smoked meat inside, then doused the fire.

No one spoke when Jerome led Sweet to her, she just packed her saddle bags and mounted fluidly. "We'll make camp early tonight, give you a rest, Jerome. I know a good stream and we can all get a bath if you're of a mind."

With that she pulled forward, leaving them to stare after her.

"What happened? You sneak up on her in camp?" Jerome asked his friend and did his best to get his mount to obey him, though she stepped to the side instead of forward.

Rafe leaned down and stroked her flesh much as Kate had done, and with a soft whinny, the animal moved forward. "I saw something strange, a private moment. Didn't mean to. Jerome, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," Jerome responded, patting his six shooter with a wide grin.

"Ha ha. Do you think I'm a bad man?"

His friend snorted. "You're one of the most honorable men I've ever met, my best friend. That's a very strange thing to ask, why?"

"Someone told me I was bad, that I shouldn't even hang around Kate or sully her reputation."

Jerome laughed. "She's a crack shot, a good rider, a bounty hunter, smart, tough, sleeps in whore houses- what reputation is there to sully?"

"You know what? You're right. I'm going to double back a short way and keep lookout. I'll catch up." Rafe turned then and rode off, wondering. Kate was a virgin? He couldn't believe that, but why would the madam lie?




Kate the Kid Ch. 05



He felt her kiss, saw her response to him, the deep look of lust he'd seen when he rode back into camp. Then he realized; it was a cover. The madam was a friend, helping Kate. She must be wanted, and it had to be for something bad.

There was a bounty in his pocket burning, McMasters wanted the thief or he'd come after Rafe, and Rafe was beginning to suspect knew that. He couldn't turn in a friend of Jerome's, but he couldn't double cross McMasters. So he'd see Jerome safe and then find out just what Kate was hiding.

Looking over his shoulder he saw her slim figure far ahead.

"Yes, Kate, I'll find out everything."

***

They'd made camp and barely spoken, everyone tired. Kate hunted down a wild turkey to supplement the smoked javelina and hard biscuits. Rafe added a can of beans he'd been carrying, and everyone agreed the meal was good.

She brushed the horses down while the men went to the river to bathe. Night had fallen and it was cool, but not cold yet. Kate herself was desperate for a bath, the grit and dust mingling with sweat was driving her out of her mind.

She knew the tenderfoot had to be shown how to use river silt, but after an hour she was losing her mind waiting for them to finish. Grabbing her laundry with her she set off down a hasty path towards the water.

She heard their voices coming towards her and breathed a sigh of relief that no one was in the all together. Then they rounded a bush and her heart stopped. Both men were bare-chested, and while Jerome was something to write home about, Rafe was all she could see.

His muscles were sharply defined and lean, his chest sprinkled with dark hair and peppered with scars. Knife wounds, bullet wounds, wounds she couldn't identify all stood testament to the fact this was a man who'd lead a hard life.

In the moonlight he was like a god from one of Izzy's stories, something too beautiful to bear. Jerome cleared his throat and it broke the spell.

"'Scuse me, gentlemen," was all she said and wished desperately she had her hat as she brushed past.

Rafe felt his blood sizzle. The look she had been giving him was a wide invitation, one no man could mistake. He started to turn around, when Jerome grabbed his arm, and the grip was like a steel band.

"I saw that look as much as you did, but remember two things. Someone is after us, and that's Bella's best friend. Hurt her and I'll break every bone in your body."

Rafe's eyes glittered in the moonlight. "Anyone following us is after the wagon, you're safe. And how I live my life is my concern."

"And Bella's friends are my concern, Rafe. Proceed carefully, friend." Jerome said the last word harshly, laced with a warning Rafe's addled mind couldn't comprehend. He shook off Jerome's hand and walked back to the river.

The water was cold. Kate's breath froze in her lungs and it took a long minute for her body to adjust. Her breasts ached to be free of the binding, and the cold water sharpened the tips. Thinking of Rafe's body in the moonlight her flesh refused to cool down.

She dunked under and scooped up soft silt from the riverbed. Sloughing it along her skin the rough soil removed dirt and dead skin and days of trail sweat. When at long last she felt clean she waded to her pack and poured the small vial of soap. 

It was Izzy's, French Milled, had less lye in it than most, and Kate worked it through her hair until there was foam. She dunked under the water again and shook her hair until it was clean, and came up for air.

He grabbed her before she could move and Kate saw it was Rafe, through her wet hair. He brushed it aside and then crushed her mouth to his. All she could do was gasp, and his tongue slid in.

Their bodies pressed together and she realized he was naked. She felt a hardness between them, a part of a man she'd rarely seen, never hard, and only heard of it in that state from her friends who whored.

It felt good, however, and seemed the perfect answer to the melting wetness between her thighs. She kissed him back, lost to the scent of man and nature, lost to the longings she'd held inside for years.

His hands moved over her body as if he knew every plane and hollow, every curve and swell. She buried her hands in his wet hair and moaned, gasping when he palmed her breasts.

A strange heat took over her mind, and she yearned to be free, to know all the secrets between men and women, to give herself to Rafe and take what he offered in return.

"Kate," he murmured as his lips left hers to replace a hand.

At the suckling touch of his mouth her knees weakened, and she grabbed his shoulders for support. One armed wrapped around her waist, hauling her tighter as he suckled.

She closed her eyes, fighting reality, fighting every instinct that told her to run, to escape the immense pleasure. His teeth scraped the sensitive nipple and then he moved to the other. Kate moaned more, begging wordlessly for a relief to the pressure inside, a release she had no name for.

He seemed to read her mind, and one large rough hand snaked between their hot bodies, and touched her core. She had to bite her lips to keep from crying out, aware in the back of her mind that Jerome camped nearby. Alarm flashed that he was alone, defenseless, and then Rafe touched a magical spot and every thought flew out her head.

In the long lonely hours of her life she had discovered this, but it was nothing like his touch. His fingertips brushed over her softly, then more insistently, and soon her hips bucked with the motion.

She began to grunt and moan without conscious thought and his lips left her breast to cover hers and smother her sounds. He circled and rubbed, faster and faster, the water plashing around them, and then she found an end to the run, a pinnacle, and exploded.

"Fly for me," he whispered against her lips, and Kate could only helpless jerk against him, wrapped in his arms steel bands.

When it was over her mind was spinning, and it took her long moments to notice he was moving, shifting her, raising her and stepping between her parted legs.

"Rafe!"

"I love hearing you say my name," he chuckled.

"What are you doing?"

"Baby, I've got to be inside you. You've denied me too long, now is not the time to play coy."

She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and finally met his glittering green eyes. "Rafe I've never-"

"Shh," he said against her lips, and slammed inside.

She screamed into his mouth at the agonizing, burning pain. It was like nothing she had ever experienced and she thought she'd be torn in to. "Let me go, let me go!" She ordered, but he didn't comply.

"Shit," was all he said, and dropped his forehead back to hers.

To her embarrassment she felt tears burn the corner of her eyes. Why had no one ever told her it would hurt?

He held her for long minutes like that, and the pain dulled down to an ache. She began to notice their breathing mirrored each other's, and his heat seeped into her. This was the closest she'd ever been to another human being, and it was...nice.

She kicked all thoughts of tomorrow from her head and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, baby. Do you want me to stop?"

"No," she whispered back. "I want to know what this is like."

His expression looked surprised, and he walked them to the bank. It was awkward, but he laid her down still inside. She winced at the small discomfort, but then he brought his lips down to her breasts again.

For long moments he pleasured her, and she felt her body loosening, relaxing. Then he pulled out and sank back in. She gasped at the intense pleasure, and he repeated the action.

Over and over, driving her into the sand, and she held him tighter, delighting in his strength, the rough texture of his skin, the very essence of him. The pleasure was deep, driving, but still blunted on pain, and though she built with him, he found his peak and she knew her body would not.

This time she swallowed his cry, and when it was over he collapsed onto her gracefully.

"Shit," she said.

"Shit," he responded with a bitter laugh. Then he shot up from her onto taut arms, his eyes saucer wide. "A virgin? How in the devil's name could you be a virgin?"

"Well I ain't no more," she grumbled back. "And what's the big deal?"

"The big deal? You sleep in whore houses!"

"Yeah, sleep. I earn my money with my gun, same as you, MacNeil."

He pulled out and rolled to his back beside her. "So it's back to MacNeil, is it?"

"When was it ever not?" She started to sit up but he grabbed her arm and brought his face close. "When I was inside you."

She flushed scarlet and jerked her hand away. "Well it was an experiment, thanks for donatin' your time and body. Don't see the need to repeat it."

He stood as well and jerked on his pants as if mirroring her. "Are you insane, woman? You could be with child. We might have to get married."

Her sudden grin worried him to his very core. Rafe had already lost a wife and child, he wouldn't ever go through that again.

"Hell, is that all your worryin' about? I know an old trick, there's herbs here to keep that from happenin'. And MacNeil, I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth. In case you haven't noticed, I ain't the marryin' type."

She tugged her shirt on and left him there, speechless. For the first time in his life, Rafe MacNeil had been used.

And he didn't like it one damn bit. 



Kate the Kid Ch. 06



By Popular demand, I wrote a new chapter for "Kate The Kid". Thank you to all my fans, who remind me that writing is for you, the reader.

***

The next day on the trail Rafe was a mess. A virgin. A virgin! The only other woman he'd ever made love to, and there was no foolin' himself that was what it had been on his end, had been his dear wife Faith. 

But his thoughts weren't on sweet, meek Faith, they were on a woman with a fiery temper to match her hair, intense passion present even in her innocence. Which he had taken.

"Things not go so well? She seems to be smiling."

Rafe looked at Jerome and saw his friend wince. "Damn it, I don't like this, being watched. Not knowing what's coming. How the hell does she think she knows what she's doing?"

Jerome's grin was lopsided. "So it was good. And let me guess, this time it was the lady who gave you 'don't expect me to hang around' speech, not you."

Rafe fingered his gun, considering, and Jerome's horse was smarter than his master, sidling away.

Jerome snorted. "Fine, I'll leave you to stew." He rode up to Kate and the horse fell in step, responding more to Kate's presence than his urging. "How much longer?"

"Camp one more night and then we meet up. They won't do it out here."

"Why not? It seems perfect."

She kept facing ahead but her eyes scanned watchfully across the horizon. "They'll need proof, and it's a day and a half ride to the nearest town."

Jerome stiffened, and the horse responded to slow down. He watched her go, and Rafe caught up. "Nice gal, ain't she?" his friend said.

"Logical to a fault. I hope Bella knows what she's doing."

And then he watched Rafe's back advance.

***

When they stopped for dinner Kate was so glad she wanted to scream in joy. There had been an aching soreness between her legs all day, and riding hard hadn't helped.

She busied herself building a fire and cooking over Rafe's protests, but it was the best way not to have to talk. She had no idea what she'd say; Kate was scared to death.

Rafe had felt so...right. It had been every dark aching fantasy and dream she'd ever had, but so much more real. So much hotter, so much more a part of her soul as well as her body.

The image of him naked in the water looming over her was branded in her brain forever. The feel of his body, his hands, his...tongue made her close her eyes and want to find someplace secluded.

But it had been a mistake. He was after her, of that she had no doubt. She had to deliver Jerome, and then either Rafe would leave or she would. Either way, she'd be safe.

They ate in silence, and the good meat was gone. With three of them eating, two of them big men with strong appetites, the dried meat wouldn't keep.

So when the sun started to set she stood and got her bow and arrow from her pack on Sweet. "I'm going hunting."

Jerome frowned. "But it's so late."

She smiled down at him, but it was Rafe who caught her eyes. "The best things come out to hunt at night."

She turned and left them by the fire, walking far and clear of it. She'd clean a carcass and again draw off predators, leaving them safe.

So freshly bathed her scent was strong, so she headed towards a small creek to stand downwind of it. She'd hunt the animals drinking after their supper.

This far out the hunting was slim, another javelina was the best she could hope for. A buffalo would be a sheer waste, but damn she was tired of javelina meat.

Crouching in the bushes, she began to wait. A short time later an older javelina wandered into view, large and proud, his territory well surveyed.

Shed drew back the arrow slowly, the bow taut, and then the sound of heavy boots scared the beast away.

"Kate!"

It was Rafe, and she had half a mind to shoot him instead. Sighing, she put the arrow back in her quiver and stood. "Over here, right next to where breakfast was just standing, but you scared him off."

He came into view looking contrite, and far too handsome. "Sorry. I was worried."

She snorted. "For the last time I can take care of my-"

"The last virgin I was...with was sore all the next day. I thought maybe you were having issues, things you couldn't discuss with Jerome around."

Kate felt herself blush, and knew she was probably scarlet. The thought made her drop her heavy bow and hit her boot. She cursed a blew streak and picked it up.

"Damn it, MacNeil, that ain't your concern."

He drew close enough she smelled limes. "Isn't it?"

She backed up but her feet hit the bush, she got tangled, and fell. He was there and caught her easily, lifting her up so her body slid against his.

Her heart was beating in her throat, rapidly, and her breath held. Those amazing green eyes looked into her deeply and his smile made her toes tingle.

"Let me make you feel better."

She didn't respond, nor did she stop him as his arms moved to unbutton her shirt. His eyes bored into her and she was still blushing breathlessly.

"Why do you do this?" Her shirt was open and he was stroking the binding on her breasts.

"Keeps them in check for riding."

He slipped her shirt off and stood back, turning her to undo the cloth strips. She closed her eyes against the twilight; she could see the campfire and didn't want to think about what she was doing, didn't want to wonder if Jerome knew.

He unwrapped them slowly, barring her hot skin to the cool air. When they were free he stepped behind her, drew her back to his chest, and claimed her breasts with his hands.

She moaned as her caressed them, her head falling to his shoulder. He responded by kissing her ear softly, showing none of the hesitation she was feeling, and desperately fighting.

"What are we doing?" she whispered.

"I'm making up for a mistake I made." He turned her then and kissed her deep. She clutched at his rough denim shirt and let her tongue sink into him, the way his had shown her.

His mouth barely leaving hers he pushed them to their knees and then made her lay down in the makeshift bed of her shirt.

He pulled back, his mouth moving to a breast as his hands worked at her gun belt. "Just relax, I know what I'm doing."

He opened her pants and his fingers proved the words true. She moaned quietly, mindful of their proximity to camp, but lost in the gentle stroke of his fingertips.

Her ache grew deeper, changing to hunger, and his touch was the barest hint of pleasure. She arched, wordless begging for more, and he drew the breast deeper into his mouth. He parted her folds and stroked the nubbin he'd forced alive, and her breath strangled.

He pulled back from it and murmured against her breast, "No rushing, not tonight."

He moved to her other breast and slid one finger inside her. She gasped, and considered forcing him to move faster, but her guns were laid out of reach.

The finger moved in and out slowly, drawing her growing moisture. She felt inflamed, hungry for the climax he'd shown her the night before.

"Please Mac- Rafe," she breathed out.

He stopped and raised his head. "I love when you say my name. Say it again."

He slipped another finger in and she clutched his broad shoulders. "Rafe!"

His slow movements were shortly joined by the pad of his thumb on her most sensitive point. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he slowly, maddeningly drew her towards the pinnacle of pleasure.

"Faster, please," she panted, squeezing her eyes shut as the pleasure grew.

For long minutes he had built her pleasure slowly, holding back, but at her broken plea, he let loose.

She felt devoured, conquered, and moved her body, undulating against his hand, desperate riding the growing wave.

When the climax claimed her, he moved quickly to cover her lips with his own and swallowed her cry.

She felt like fire roared through her, she felt as if she was flying. For long, sweet moments her body pulsed around his hand, delighting in his ministrations.

She came down, kissing him back, his hand still buried in her. "Th-"

"There's more."

He slid down her, green eyes tilted up to peer through his dark hair, reminding her of her dreams. She gasped when the realization shot through her mind; then his mouth covered her.

She cried out, his hand belatedly clamping over her mouth. His tongue worked miracles, moving in circles around the nubbin, toying with the skin around it, laving her up and down.

She was bucking in sheer pleasure. Her muscles honed from years of hard riding, almost unseated him. He used his other hand to hold her down, her belly muscles fluttering under the hot roughness of his hand.

For long moments she built higher, her body tightening, Rafe working faster and faster, and then she broke. A flood let loose in her mind as she screamed his name, the sound muffled by his hand.

She felt him move when it was over, but she felt weightless, full of joy. When her brain came to he had moved up and was holding her against his body. His muscles felt like steel, he was vibrating.

And Kate understood his need.

"Is there more?" she whispered against his chest.

"I won't take you, unless you want me to."

Never having run from a fight in her life she sat up to face him, though she knew she blushed deeply. "I want to."

He closed his eyes for a moment and she felt a flutter in her heart as if he might reject her.

Then he moved quickly, opening his own pants, and grabbed her, hauling her across his body. She sprawled, unsure of what to do.

"This way, you on top of me. It gives women more pleasure, I guarantee it."

Beneath her his cock was hard. The light was too dim to see it and she wanted to. Without conscious thought she moved her hand down to stroke it, and he gasped. It was velvet on metal, incredibly soft to the touch but so large and hard it made her nervous.

"Kate, I will do my best to hold off, but you need to stop."

She vaguely registered the words but couldn't still her hand. He grabbed it roughly, shoving it away, and raised her until she crouched over his cock.

"Say you want me. Say it, Kate," he added when she bit her lip.

"I want you-oh!" He slammed her down and she had never felt so full. There was still a slight soreness that evening, but the pleasure far outweighed it.

She groaned and then opened her eyes to see his squeezed shut. "I don't know what to do."

He didn't speak but used his hands firmly on her hips to raise her up. She let her weight bring her down and moaned low in the back of her throat, her nipples tightening with the sensation.

After that she moved herself, strong thighs moving her faster and faster. His hands fell to hold her thighs and he moved slightly against her.

Something was missing, her mind thought, and a sound of impatience escaped. His eyes opened, a jeweled green that stole her breath, and he moved a hand until his thumb pressed against the nubbin. The shock it turned her movement more into a grinding motion and then the pinnacle was upon her.

The climax stole her breath and left the others in the dust. She felt as if she was exploding, her body unable to contain itself as her muscles fluttered. She threw her head back and her body stilled.

Rafe raised her with one hand and slammed into her again and again from the bottom. His pleasure was swift, arriving on the heels of hers, and she watched his beautiful face as his essence poured into her.

When it was over the sounds of the night came back to her ears. Her heartbeat still pounded and her body was slick with sweat, Rafe's as well.

She had no idea what to say.

He opened his eyes and smiled before wariness came into his eyes. "Those herbs you mentioned...do you still have them."

Whatever magic she had felt in the moment died.

She tried to dismount but it was awkward, and she fell on her side. "Nothing to fear, MacNeil," she spat out. "I ain't the motherin' kind neither."

She jerked on her clothes as he buttoned his pants.

"Kate, look, I didn't mean-"

"Thanks for the lessons," she spat out. "I'm sure they'll come in handy in the next town."

His whole body tightened but it was the anger in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

"Kate," he growled, but then, like her, froze. The sound of rapidly approaching hoof beats put them both on alert.

"Go to Jerome, now, I'm right behind you."

He ran for camp and she belted on her guns and slung her quiver on her back. When the rider appeared she had her gun out, level.

"Freeze!"

The rider pulled the reins and the horse reared up on hind legs with the force of the stop, almost throwing him.

When he stopped he tipped back the hat and she gasped. "Finnegan!"

"Kate, I have news."

"Let's go to the fire, Jerome and his friend Rafe are waiting."

He leaned down, offering her an arm, and she fluidly mounted behind him. They rode into camp facing Jerome's rifle and MacNeil's guns.

"He's a friend!" Kate called and Jerome shored up, putting the gun nuzzle down to the ground, But MacNeil only lowered his, the hammers still pulled back.

"Finnegan, this is Izzy's man Jerome, and his friend Rafe."

"MacNeil?" Finnegan said with the appropriate touch of awe.

Rafe jerked a nod. Finnegan dismounted and held up hands to Kate. He held her tightly as she came down and she saw Rafe glare at the man, his scowl deepening when Finnegan slung an arm over her shoulders.

"Well gentlemen, I have good news and bad. Good news first. Kate here knows I have family in Boston, asked me to look into who was hiring killers to tail you. They found the gentleman sending wires, and he gave them the name of Benito Vercelli."

"Shit," Rafe cursed and Jerome frowned, his look almost as scary as Rafe's, to Kate's mind.

"Isabella's brother. The snake."

"What's the bad news then?" Rafe asked.

"That's for Kate. Kate, may I speak to you privately?"

She nodded, despite the frowns of her companions, and she shrugged off Finnegan's arm to take his horse's lead. They walked it to the others by the creek, and when they were out of earshot, she sighed. "So what is it?"

"It's White Cloud. This cable came."

He handed the piece of paper to her and she read it, her heart dropping. "She's in trouble. I have to go to her."

He nodded. "I told Izzy and she sent this." He handed her another cable. Izzy told her to go ahead to Chicago.

"Finnegan, Dan Forth is at the next town waiting for them. Can you make sure they get there?"

"I have a better idea, Kate. If we ride back we can catch the hired guns, and Jerome will be safe. He's got MacNeil and town is only a half day ride from here."

She thought about it, her concern for White Cloud sharp. "All right."

"Kate I'll ride with you. You have done this job for Izzy, now you can get to your sister."

She nodded and knew Jerome would agree, but he wasn't the one she worried about.

***

They'd been riding for two days and there was no sign of any gunmen. Families traveling, a commercial stage, that was all they passed. 

Finnegan, never a man of many words, was quiet, and she wished he would talk. The incident in his room weighed heavily on her mind, and now that she had...her mind trailed off, trying hard not to think of Rafe..

"Two days, and no bodies. Finnegan, I don't get this."

"Rafe and Dan are safe, we got the cable this morning. Perhaps the hired guns got scared off. It's time to stop."

She nodded and the found a creek and let the horses cool down in the hot sun. "I'll hunt us down some meat."

Finnegan nodded and she took her bow and arrows down from Sweet before rubbing his sweat off. Done she set of to walk far from camp, and downwind of the swell in the creek.

Something moved in the bushes and she stopped. Cherokees were near, and so she waved her hands in friendship.

A brave stood then, tall and striking. He walked towards her quickly, but she sensed no danger from him.

"Do you speak English?" She asked and he looked blankly at her. She tried French and he nodded.

"The man you are with is he a friend?" His French was broken, but she understood him well.

"He is one of my oldest and dearest friends. Why?"

The brave scowled. "You came here many days ago. Two men followed your group. This man killed them."

She shook her head. "He came from Denver, far west."

"I do not lie. What this means to you means little to me. I do not know how a white woman knows the signs of the Lakota, but I tell you because I owe your tribe a great debt. Do what you will."

He melded into the thick bushes then, a true man of the land. It made no sense. If Finnegan had found the assassins, why were they looking for them?

Unless...

She slung the bow over her shoulder and pulled her gun. Damn it, were Finnegan and Dan in cahoots? How could they want to kill Izzy's man?

Now with Finnegan having drawn her off, she smiled to know Dan would have a helluva time with Rafe. She said a silent prayer to the God and gods of her childhood and made her way stealthily back to camp.

Finnegan was gone, but his horse was still by hers and the small copse of trees. She scanned the horizon but there was nothing.

She moved quickly to the horses and flipped open Finnegan's pack. She hoped she was mistaken, but the cable from White Cloud had come from Chicago to San Francisco. 

Jerome or White Cloud? Her best friend or her sister? She resolved to shoot Finnegan dead and then decide.

Turning, she found her nose against his barrel.

"Drop the bow, arrows, guns, and the knife in your boot, Kate."

"Why?"

His handsome face was grimly determined. "Do it."

"You won't shoot me," she said, but she wasn't sure.

"Maybe not, but I'll shoot Sweetwater."

At his name her horse nickered and her blood ran cold. She slowly did as he said until she was without weapons. "Tell me this. Was Dan in on it?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Dan? No."

"Then why are you with me? Why isn't Jerome dead?"

"I'll have plenty of time to explain it. We're going to Chicago."

When the gun lowered she made a fist and drew back for a punch, but he kicked her fast. She landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and he knelt beside her.

"Kate, remember who taught you how to fight dirty." And then he brought the butt of his gun down on her skull, and Kate's world went black.

***

After five days of riding there'd been no incidents. Rafe breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the Rockport.

It was a very nice hotel, right on the bay, the clapboard sides gray with age, the trim freshly painted white.

Dan and Rafe saw to the horses and bid Billy goodbye, paying him extra for a job well done. He tipped his hat and rode off to collect his next fare.

"I'll be cabling Kate in Chicago after we get settled. Want to come with?" Dan asked.

The time alone with him had been good. Rafe slowly grew to trust the man, and he had learned a lot about Kate.

An orphan raised by the Lakota tribe, she had no family, no education, and she'd made her way in the world. If he didn't tread carefully, his heart just might crack the ice that had settled over it when Faith died.

They had two weeks before the wedding, and Rafe hoped she'd make it back to Frisco for it. He planned to buy a new suit, something well tailored, get a good shave, have his hair trimmed up nice, and maybe she'd see something in him.

"Sure," he replied at long last, shaking himself. He was acting like a damn school boy with his first crush.

Hadn't she twice now rejected him? Not the marryin' kind, or the motherin' kind, she'd said, when she really meant she didn't want to marry him, bear his child.

"Ready to meet Izzy?" Dan said, and Rafe nodded.

They found her in the front parlor, a gorgeous woman with dark hair she unconventionally wore loose in ringlets down her back. Her dress and grooming was as frilly as Kate's was relaxed, and he found himself smiling over the picture they must make.




Kate the Kid Ch. 06



Her lips were as swollen as Jerome's, and they each had an arm around the other.

"Dan!"

She hugged him with the same enthusiasm Kate had, though Dan didn't pick the petite woman up.

"Isabella Vercelli, Rafe MacNeil, my oldest and dearest friend." Jerome smiled broadly.

He extended his hand but she pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad to finally meet you!"

She hugged like a hungry bear. He pulled back almost coughing. "Pleasure is all mine to finally meet the woman who tamed Jerome."

She laughed and his friend blushed. "Where's Kate?" Isabella asked them.

"What do you mean?" Dan responded. "Finnegan had your letter and the cable White Cloud sent."

Isabella looked puzzled. "White Cloud sent a cable she had her baby early. A girl, named Katherine for her aunt. Mother and daughter are healthy, but the father is obviously in a tizzy."

Rafe shook his head, hackles rising. "Wait a minute, Finnegan had a letter that said White Cloud was in trouble and needed Kate. He rode back to Chicago with her."

Isabella shook her head. "I had no such cable. Last I heard, from Kate, Finnegan was setting up life as a landowner in Denver."

Rafe felt his blood chill, and Dan gave him a look that said he fully understood. Only Jerome and Isabella looked puzzled. "What?" Jerome finally asked.

"Damn it, the men after us were after Kate. If Benito sent those letters they were either empty threats or he hired amateurs."

Isabella shook her head, her accent growing thick with worry. "Finnegan would never hurt Kate. He's been in love with her for years now."

"But is she in love with him?" Jerome asked his intended.

She shook her head. "He'd respect that, he'd never kidnap her."

"He would if someone paid him enough and he thought she'd be all right," Rafe said.

"Who?" Dan demanded.

"Isabella, I was hired to find someone. I realized long ago it was Kate. I wasn't going to bring her in, I swear, but the man who hired me to find her is not a man you deny."

"Shit," Jerome said.

"Who?"

Rafe's eyes swung to Isabella. "A man named MacMasters."

"Shit," Dan echoed.

"Who is this man? Jerome?" Isabella bit her lip, her eyes as frantic as her words.

He looked down at her with grim eyes. "She stole a horse from him, and he never lets these things go. He'll kill her."

Rafe clenched his fists. "Not if I can stop him. I'm going after her."

"I'm going too," Dan said.

"Me?"

Rafe shook his head at Jerome. "Stay here and guard Isabella. The matter with Benito isn't settled."

He looked down at Isabella, who was trembling, held tightly by Jerome. "Get her back, please. She's my best friend, she's the sister I never had. I can't bear to lose her."

Neither can I, Rafe thought, but he merely nodded and stormed out, Dan on his heels.



Kate the Kid Ch. 07



Kate was furious. Long days of riding, and Finn had said nothing but sorry. No explanations, no apologies, no accusations, nothing.

And now they were in St. Louis.

It had only been a short time since she had stood in the station, waiting on Jerome. It felt like an eternity. She was a woman now, really and truly, everything was different.

She wasn't afraid, not of Finn. Over the last several nights he'd watched her with nervous eyes. She knew in her heart wherever he was taking her, he believed she would be fine.

Sweet was loaded with other livestock into a car, eying her balefully as if he knew there was a gun in the small of her back.

When the doors closed Finn walked her down the platform, and to her shock a Pullman car had been attached to the back of the train, and he made her walk into it.

It was a parlor. For a moment she forgot she was captive and gaped. The walls were a pale gold silk damask, the floor a plush green carpet. There was a small hall leading to two tiny rooms, two comfortable looking chairs, and a well stocked bar.

"One's a bedroom, but you won't be sleeping in there. We'll sleep in the chairs. Other's a privy, I had the window nailed shut and I'll time you."

She flopped down into one of the chairs. "So we're going to Chicago. Let me guess, you took that fool bounty for horse stealin', Finn? You that hard up for money? Shit, I could've loaned it to you, Izzy woulda given it to you!"

He sat wearily in the opposite chair and tucked his gun loosely into his trousers. "Kate, I can't tell you why, or you'll bolt. I promise you, no harm will come, and you'll make it to Izzy's wedding. Jerome is already there."

Now that she was free to talk, her eyes narrowed. "Because you killed the men following us."

He shook his head and removed his hat. "There were inquiries, but no one took the case. They were after you, Kate. When I found that out, I killed them and took over the bounty. I promise you, you'll be safer this way."

"I can take care of myself, Finn!"

He fairly growled at her. "This isn't a matter of taking care of yourself, it's about finishing old business."

With that cryptic comment she opened her mouth, but a knock came at the door. Finn stood and motioned her quiet, moving to peer out the small window.

He opened the door and to her shock delivery men bearing no less than three towers of boxes. Finn directed them into the bedroom and Kate eyed them, pleading, but none would look at the woman in men's dusty trail clothes. Finn kept his gun tucked behind his back so she could only stare at it.

Would he shoot her? Her heart said no, but she hadn't made it that far in her life trusting her heart. Besides, she had Sweet to consider, and he was more than just a damn horse. He was her oldest and best friend aside from Izzy.

And she couldn't let Finn bring him back to Chicago. Sweet's old brand was all the proof needed to tighten a noose around her neck. As a woman, execution was the best she could hope for.

The delivery men awaited a tip and Finn just closed the door with his boot. "Well," he asked, turning back to sit on the chair, "Aren't you going to ask what's in the boxes?"

"What do I care. Spending the bounty already?"

He frowned. "They're for you."

She tipped her hat back until it slid down her hair. "Finn, level with me. We're old buddies. What is this about?"

He looked at her, a war in those beautiful blue eyes. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to run. I'd never hurt you, well," he blushed, "I had to knock you out. You'd have never come with."

"I might have, if you told me the truth."

"Kate, the man who's been searching for you all these years, he doesn't want you hanged. He doesn't want you in jail. Kate, he's your father."

She let the shock wash over her. A father. Could it be real? After all these years? She closed her eyes, tears unshed pooling behind her lids. A father! How could he have abandoned her like that? How could he put a fucking bounty on her head, instead of just cabling the Rockport?

"Fuck!" She yelled and lunged at Finn. In surprise he dropped his gun and merely grabbed her shoulders as she landed, battering him mindlessly with her fists. "You bastard! Of course I would have come! I wouldn't miss this for the world!"

He struggled to grab her wrists and once he did, the tears burst free. Her dear friend, her kidnapper, held her as she cried.

***

Chicago was so familiar, and yet so foreign. She'd never seen it through the eyes of a tourist, having always been there on business or to see her sister White Cloud.

She felt uncomfortable. The boxes had been gifts from her father, frilly dresses. She had given up on figuring out the underthings, refused to even try the corset, and agreed to wear a powder blue frothy dress. Finn had at least let her wear her boots beneath it.

More than the dress was the fact that her father was Jonathon McMasters. McMasters was legendary in her world. He'd only been in the states twenty years, and in that time had amassed an empire in Texas. Ranching, collecting bounties, he had built himself up before his wife died, then moving into the northern states as a businessman.

His wife. Her mother. Kate felt her heart wince. The woman had been dead ten years, which meant they had been alive at the same time, but now they'd never meet.

Finn sensed her sadness and patted her arm. All washed up and in dress clothes of a city man he was breathtaking, drawing the eyes of a number of young women on the street. Still, insanely, the only person she wanted with her to meet her father was Rafe.

She trusted him in a strange way. That second time...that had been something serious. He'd said he wouldn't push her, and he hadn't. He knew her world, as much as Finn did, but she felt Rafe was somehow...more connected.

She shook off the thought as they stopped in front of the Palmer House Hotel. The hotel was impressive, richly appointed, the staff in expensive uniforms.

"You can do this, Kate. I'll be with you every step."

She forced a smile up at Finn and patted his arm. "I know you only did what you thought you had to. I know this man...my father, must have something on you. No," she shook her head when he started to speak, "I don't want to know what it is. I only want to know that this will square you two."

Without responding, he led her inside and a man lounging in the large posh room folded his newspaper and stood. Kate recognized hired muscle right away.

"Mr. Finnegan, Miss McMasters." Kate's eyes widened at the name. It didn't feel right. Finn shook the mans hand and she nodded to him. "I'll take you to your father now."

She barely digested his words, still staring at the huge ceiling with the multiple murals. She had never seen anything like it in her life.

He led them to a small door where a uniformed man waited. He opened the door and Kate saw a tiny room. "What's this?"

"An Otis elevator," the man who'd greeted them said.

"What does it do?"

Finn grinned down at her, making her blush. "It will take us up to the floor."

She goggled as they stepped in with another unformed man who closed the inner door and grasped a lever on the floor, turning it after asking which floor.

Kate gasped as it lurched and grabbed Finn. She hadn't realized just how different the states were. The Rockport had three floors and a grand staircase, no magical room that moved up and down with a hydraulic whine.

The doors opened on a richly appointed floor, and outside a large door two more armed men stood, and Kate followed the third to them, Finn in tow.

The guards all nodded and opened the door to a rich room. Aubusson carpets, dark stained oaks, red velvet furniture, Kate began to feel her nerves jangle.

She was a poor country mouse in worn boots, with a stolen horse stabled outside. She was a woman with no education, and in this world, no value seeing as she'd given away her virginity just days before.

Standing at the window was a tall, slim man with red hair, the same shade as hers. Kate stopped, Finn plowing into her back with a grunt.

"Mr. McMasters?" The guard asked.

He turned and Kate began to tremble. He had her nose, her hair, the same long build she had, more legs than anything else. He had broad shoulders, a thick mustache, and sun-worn gray eyes.

"Katie!"

It was her name! The trembling deepened and she was rooted to the spot.

The guard left and Finn stood behind her so close she could feel his body heat.

"My God, you look so much like your mother. She was Katherine too, but we always called you Katie."

He drew closer and she realized he was tall enough to give Rafe a run for his money. Something seemed off, her heart was hammering, and Kate just couldn't move.

He stopped midway to hugging her. "Well, it will just take time. Finnegan, we can consider your debt canceled now that you've brought Katie home."

Finn cleared his throat. "Uh, it's Kate, sir."

She could have kissed him, nodding instead when McMasters looked down at her. "Kate," he said softly, a note of disapproval in his voice. 

He turned then to open a large box on a marble-topped table. He pulled out a bundle of dollars that made her eyes bug out, tossing it Finn who caught it with a deft flick of his wrist. "Take this for your troubles."

Finn understood as well as she did he was being dismissed but he didn't move. "Sir, a mutual friend of ours is getting married in San Francisco. I brought Kate here as you asked, but if we want to make it we need to turn right around and leave."

"No. Kate I'm sorry you'll have to miss the wedding but I've just found you. We're going home to New York, we leave tomorrow."

"No!"

Finn stepped in front of her, defensively.

McMasters just smiled and barked out, "Phineas!" 

The guard returned and Finn drew his weapon only to have McMasters grab it from his hand. "Show Mr. Finnegan the way out."

The guard grabbed the slim Irishman with an evil smile. "With pleasure, sir."

Kate tried to grab him but McMasters grabbed her wrist with an iron grip. "Let me go," she growled.

He smiled down at her as Finn was dragged out and the door shut heavily with an ominous thud. "Little Katie, you're leaving that pathetic life behind, just as I did. We're going home to New York, to your new life, and I have just the man waiting for you." 

She had fought many battles in her life, but something in this man's eyes, she'd never think of him as her father, made her heart sink.

***

Rafe felt his eye begin to tick. Something told him Kate was in grave danger, and alone he could travel much faster. Having Dan, Jerome, and Izzy in tow was slowing him down.

They'd caught up in St. Louis, Izzy looking almost silly in pants astride a horse, Jerome looking weary.

Turns out Finnegan had taken Jerome's fancy train car, so they'd ridden like cattle on hard wooden benches. Two robberies and one mechanical issue later, they'd arrived three weeks after Finnegan and Kate's train had.

Now, waiting for everyone to get their horses, he was jumpy.

Izzy took pity on him. "The Porter already told us the Palmer House Hotel. Why don't you ride ahead, we'll catch up?"

"Thank you," Rafe said, kissing the top of her head. 

He practically vaulted onto his horse and galloped onto the streets, dodging pedestrians, horse-drawn rail cars, and carriages.

The Palmer was a hotel you couldn't miss, and he rode right up to, disrupting a group of women alighting from a carriage.

He hopped off his horse and hurried inside to the desk.

"McMasters, what room is he in?" He asked a startled young man.

"Mc- who?"

"McMmasters, Jonathon McMasters. Tall, redheaded, mean sonofabitch, what room?"

"MacNeil."

Rafe heard Finnegan, and turned around with a roundhouse.

Finn went flying to the marble floor, and Rafe curled his fists, ready to dish out more.

Finn sat up slowly, cradling his nose, blood seeping out as finely dressed ladies gasped around them.

"All right, MacNeil, I guess I deserved that. He swore he wasn't going to hurt her! She's his daughter fer chrissakes."

Rafe's blood froze. "What?"

The other man stood and waved off the house detective who was rapidly approaching. "She's his daughter. He wasn't supposed to hurt her, but he kicked me out, had his men beat the shit out of me. I've been waiting outside, every day for you." Finn smiled as he stood. "The old man tried to drag her out of here, she punched his bodyguard, broke his nose. She's been locked up ever since."

"His daughter?" Was all Rafe could manage.

Finn nodded, handkerchief pressed to his nose. "I swear, I found out from my family in Boston that the men following you were actually after Kate. I was angry, very angry. I questioned them, and killed them. They would have raped her and I...I love her."

Rafe felt his temper ready to boil over, but he was acutely aware of the stares from guests, employees, and the house detective fingering his holstered gun.

Finn sighed. "She doesn't fell the same way about me. At all. I'm just a Goddamned brother to her. I wired her father and as I owe him, big time, offered to bring her in safely."

"All right. We're getting her out of here, but this is not settled, Finnegan."

The other man smiled. "If you want to kick my ass, better get in line behind Kate and Izzy."

"So how do we get to her?"

"She's under lock and key all day every day, three or four guards with her. I've been watching for an in, but nothing."

Rafe turned away and muscled past two young couples up to the desk. "I want a room, next to McMasters'."

The clerk raised a brow at him. "Reservation, sir?"

"Do I look like I have a damned reservation?"

The clerk eyed him up and down with distaste. "Sir, the McMasters wedding is in two days, we're booked solid."

"The-what?" Finn said beside him, and Rafe nodded, heart in his throat. "Whose wedding?"

"Miss McMasters and Charles Bunton. Now please step aside, we have real guests checking in."

"What's going on?" Jerome said behind them, and they turned to see Jerome, Izzy and Dan wearing puzzled looks.

"We need a damned room and they won't give us one."

Jerome smiled down at Izzy. "Darling?"

"I'll take care of it." She glided past the men and smiled beguilingly up at the clerk.

"What's going on?" Jerome asked, pulling Rafe back.

"McMasters is Kate's father, and he's marrying her off to some twit."

His friend raised one dark brow and pulled his glasses off to clean the dust from the lenses. "And how do we know she doesn't want to marry this...twit?"

Rafe glared at him. "She isn't the marrying kind, or so she said. And anyone her father knows is a criminal, rich or not, a fucking criminal. Kate's not like that."

"Damn right," Dan said.

"Gentlemen, we have a room," Izzy said with pride.

"How'd you manage that?" Finn asked.

She smiled up at Jerome and slid her arm around his waist. "Well, we missed our wedding back home, so I thought the ballroom here would work just as well."

"Izzy, I need to see Kate, as quickly as possible."

She raised a brow and tossed her wild hair back. "And why is that? From all she has told me, you two are not exactly friends."

Rafe felt his face grow hot under the weight of four pairs of eyes. "Damn it, it doesn't matter. McMasters is her father, he's holding her prisoner, and she's getting married in two days. You're her best friend, you tell me this is what she wants."

Izzy paled. "This man has her guarded?" At Finn's nod she smiled. "Gentleman I assume you're all entertaining visions of storming her rooms, guns blazing, but some things call for a softer touch."

"I don't care how you do it, but we need to get her out of here, and away from McMasters."

A knowing look passed between Jerome and Izzy, spreading to the two other men, and Rafe stalked off in a huff.

***

Izzy was stunned. For two hours Dan, Finn, and her beloved had lectured her on Jonathon McMasters. The man was, by all accounts, a monster, nothing like the gentle if hardened soul she knew Kate to be.

Now she sat in the parlor of his suite, one fine lady calling upon another, and she barely recognized her friend.

Kate wore a lavender day gown lined in Swiss lace, a frock almost too frothy to be made for a grown woman. Visibly pained by a tight corset and heeled shoes, beneath her fancifully quaffed hair she sported tired eyes and a red cheek.

"Where do we begin?" Izzy asked after the tears dried.

"It's been too long since I last saw you. Much too long." The thick drawl still in her friend's voice made Izzy smile.

"I know this horrible man is your father, and I know he's forcing you to marry. Why won't you leave?"

"Izzy, so much has happened."

"Start at the beginning."

Kate laughed hollowly. "And just where is that?"

"Finn explained meeting your father. Start there."

"Finn tried to help me leave. He was beaten. I was told we were going back to New York. My clothes were burned. I knew if I got onto the train to New York I'd never escape, so I fought.

"McMasters, I refuse to call him anything else, had me beaten, locked me up inside here, and informed me I would be marrying the lawyer who handles all his property issues. He owes the man some debt, and I am to pay it."

Izzy scooted to the edge of her chair and placed her smaller hand over her friend's. "I've always seen you fight. Remember those stage coach robbers who tried to grab me? Five of them and you tossed them all. Where is your spirit now?"

"It's complicated."

"Has he threatened White Cloud?"

Kate shook her head. "The day he tried to make me leave, I saw Finn for less than a minute. He told me they're safe, visiting her husband's family."

"Then what is it?"

Kate looked out the window, staring past the bustling city below. "Izzy, I missed my monthly flow."

Isabella's heart stopped. "Did your fa- did that man do anything to you? One of his men?"

"No. It doesn't matter who. If I don't marry this man, this crooked lawyer, he said he'll take my baby from me and turn me out. If there is one. Me on my own, now that I know well. But if I have a child I will never abandon him or her."

"Who's the father? Finnegan? He loves you, he'll marry you, he can protect you. We all can!"

"It's not Finn, it doesn't matter. If there is a baby, than this man is a father, and he wouldn't marry me. How could I protect my child against McMasters?"

"You know plenty of people who could help you, Jerome, Dan, Finn, me. I know you think my marriage will be the end of our partnership but it won't. Jerome will handle the shipping, the Rockport is my baby, yours too. It will always be your home."

"Izzy you're talking crazy. And do what with my life? Taint a nice hotel with my status as a ruined woman, raising a bastard for the world to see?

"I know if there is a baby, the father won't marry me. No other man would, not with how I've lived my life. And anyways, you might not realize it, but now that you have Jerome, there's no room for me."

"Well then, start a ranch, you've always wanted to, and you'd be great at it."

"And what hand would take orders from a waddling pregnant woman with no husband?"

Izzy sat back. "Have you really given up? Has this man really broken your spirit? What hold could he have over you?"

"He killed my mother." That shocked her friend into silence. "I've heard people talking for years. I never knew it was my parents they were talking about. I don't know what to do just yet. I don't think I can face what I know in my heart I should do.

"I don't know the man I'm to marry, but if I'm lucky he'll be old, and think this baby is his, and die soon to leave me free. My child will have a name, something to fall back on in case..."

Izzy sighed and dank back into her plush chair. "In case what? What has you scared?"




Kate the Kid Ch. 07



Kate's eyes shone on the verge of tears. "I want him dead. As long as he's alive, I'll know the blood of my mother's murderer runs through my veins. As long as he's alive, neither I or my kid will be safe."

The other woman shivered. "Murder? That's not you, Kate, not you at all."

"I don't know Izzy. I'm scared. What if I am with child? That changes everything. No more reckless ways, I gotta start thinkin' more with my head than my heart."

"Then use your damn head and listen to me! Jerome and I have the money to help you; Dan and Finn are two of the best in the business. Rafe is Jerome's oldest and dearest friend, he can help."

Kate turned away from her friend at that and Izzy's heart stuttered. She cursed in fluent Italian, French, and English. "Rafe. He's the father, isn't he?"

"Izzy, it's complicated."

"The fuck it is!"

Kate gaped at her, the word sounding harshly exotic on her friend's lips. "Izzy, can't you understand? I might be pregnant, and I'm a single woman with a bounty on her head. I have met my father, my own worst enemy as an adult, and he has threatened anything and everything I love. I don't know how to fight! I don't know what to do!"

And with that she collapsed into tears. Izzy moved to the couch beside her and held her, letting the tears soak her crinoline dress, her heart aching at Kate's heaving sobs.

"Donn thw raff," Kate said wetly.

"What?"

"Don't tell Rafe!" She pulled back, facing her friend with tear stained cheeks. "Don't tell him. It might not even be true."

Izzy held her arms tightly. "You are like a sister to me. When I was alone, scared, and had no one in this world you rode to my rescue. You taught me English, you taught me how to survive when my world had shattered. I owe you everything, but I can't do that. He lost one family already, he deserves the chance at another. Kate, I know he would marry you, why fight it?"

"Would he? Would he really? He's been suspicious of me and vile, he revealed that I was a woman to the world, and condemns me for living the very same life he does. He doesn't like me!"

Izzy pulled back, shaking her head. "He made love to you, of that I'm sure. He would never hurt a woman, force her. He's acted like a typical brainless man, is all. Don't let your fear turn you into the arms of another man you barely know."

"Izzy, I'm torn between two worlds. Rafe is in the old one. Now I'm in these damn dresses, a prisoner, told to be ladylike when I know nothing of how to be one. Please, just leave me and be safe. Don't worry."

Izzy stood, drawing up to her full height, imposing in posture if not stature. "You saved me when I thought it was all over. I am going to do the same. Do you trust me, Kate?"

"With my life." She wiped her tears on the back of her hand and sniffled.

"I won't tell Rafe on two conditions."

"Name them."

"You will tell him yourself and-"

"No."

Izzy just glared. "And when will your father next allow you out?"

"There is a party tonight where I will meet the man I am to marry."

Isabelle nodded. "Then the second condition is you will get your father alone and get him to admit to killing your mother."

"What!?"

"This or nothing, Kate."

"What good would that do?"

Izzy smiled. "Your father may be rich and powerful, but you have two friends with even more money and power. Let us worry about it."

"Izzy, it's no use."

"Then what do you have to lose?"

She didn't wait for an answer, just left. A hefty man opened the door to the room as she touched the handle and she had to resist the urge to hit him, though at twice her height and three times her weight it would do little good.

She stomped back to the suite she and Jerome had reserved. With little room left at the hotel Dan, Finn, and Rafe were across the street.

Her intended had also gotten himself a room there out of propriety, and she found him standing by the window, waiting to hear the results.

Nine months since they had seen each other. More than a year since she had felt his touch. The despair she had seen in her best friend's eyes weighed her heart heavily.

"How did it go?"

"Jerome, stay with me. Please."

He walked to her and crushed her in a hug. Her face pressed into his chest and she was struck again by the differences between him and her first husband.

One man had stood barely an inch taller, thirty years older, a childhood crush realized with soft hands and a softer heart.

Jerome was over a foot taller, his body like steel, his heart as fierce as his temper.

This time it was she who drew his lips to hers, Izzy who parted his mouth and sank inside, tasting whiskey, cigar, and pure man.

After a long minute he pushed away. "Isabelle, the wedding will happen soon. We should wait."

She growled low in her throat. "I am not some skittish virgin. I am a widow, a grown woman who has already known your body. I need to feel hope, I need to feel alive. Jerome, I need to feel you."

Shocked he was pliant, and she pushed him into a plush chair.

Smiling over his disheveled hair and the puzzled look behind his glasses, she sank to her knees before him.

He'd grown up in a society far stricter than hers, and she knew he needed convincing. She pulled open his trousers and delighted to find him hard already.

"Isabelle.." he said in a breathy voice.

She ignored the protest in his tone and licked her tongue along his length. He tasted of salt and sweat, his own unique taste beneath dear to her heart.

She took him into her mouth then, and with mouth and hands caressed up and down, his masculine whimpers and grunts lightening her heart and arousing her increasingly.

She slipped a hand inside his trousers and found his balls heavy. Cupping them gently she stroked with the pad of her thumb as his excitement grew and they drew closer to his body.

"Bella," he moaned, a warning she knew to heed.

Standing she turned her back to him and drew her hair around to her chest. "Unlace me, please, Jerome."

She felt his large hands shaking with the movement, and when her dress was loose she let it fall, looking over her shoulder at him.

His eyes were dark with lust, his muscles taut, his body fully clothed but for one vital part. He was a dark fantasy realized, and they stare into each other's eyes for a long moment.

"Please," she breathed, an he unlaced her chemise.

In quick movements she was free of her bustle and petticoats, and turned to him in her corset and bloomers. Too impatient to strip them she straddled him on the chair.

"Bella, we should take our time. Let me pleasure you."

Her own eyes glittered. "You will."

Her bloomers parted easily and she held them open with one hand, steadying herself on his shoulder with the other.

He sank into her, huge and hard, a natural curve that drew his cock forward, rasping a deeply sensitive spot.

When she was seated Izzy threw her head back and gasped. He felt so completely right her soul was at peace.

Jerome's growl was a warning before he jerked her corset down to reveal her breasts. Sucking one dusky tip deep inside his mouth he flicked rapidly with his tongue while she rose up and sank down.

Their gasps mingled an natural rhythm overtook them. Desperation set the pace and soon they were sweaty, their panting breaths falling into one another's mouths.

She rode him with abandon, her heart filled with love, and after several minutes of strain it was his warning growl that triggered a deep answer inside her, and they tumbled into pleasure as one.

Exhausted she limply collapsed onto him and he held her tightly to him, kissing her cheek, jaw, and neck softly.

"My love, you deserve better than that."

Pulling back she smiled up at him. "Better than seeing your passion match mine? Your hunger too? No woman could ask for more."

He smiled and picked her up, still inside of her he walked her to the bed. Their bodies untangled as they laid down, causing easy laughter between old lovers.

"You haven't told me what happened."

"Jerome, how trustworthy are the police here?"

"Not very, the Pinkertons are much better."

"Can we get one of their agents to a party tonight?"

"Rafe knows people there, I'm sure he can arrange it. I'll speak with him right away."

He stood, searching for a cloth to clean themselves with. Izzy stood as well and began grabbing her underthings. "I am going with you."

"I'll be just a moment, there's no need-"

"Jerome, I need to speak with Rafe."

He stopped an raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She looked down. "I have to break a promise to a friend. But I think it may be the only way to save her."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Izzy smiled wanly, still staring at her hands. "I hope so too."



Kate the Kid Ch. 08



He was shaking. Had been shaking all day. Rafe had done his duty, been to Pinkerton's and back, suffered through Jerome's lectures and the tailors.

Even staring into the mirror and seeing a gentleman looking back, the kind of man he could have been had war not ravaged his life, he was shaking.

It had taken him long nights to figure it out. He loved Kate. Loved her spirit, her independence, even her damn temper. The way she drank, shot, smiled. The look of lust in her eyes, her easy laughter. Her smart wit, the way she sized people up in an instant.

It had taken longer for him to realize he wasn't betraying Faith. Kate was the complete opposite of his first wife, but his love for her would never steal his love for Faith, nor the other way around.

Before he'd thought he had all the time in the world to convince her way of thinking to his, but now he had just a handful of hours.

And dammit, his child, their child, was inside of her. He would die before he let another man raise their boy or girl, he'd readily kill the man with his bare hands before standing there, watching Kate give herself to another.

If they failed tonight, he would just bind and gag her, drag her to the nearest preacher and see it done right. He had mucked up plenty and fixed it in the end, damnit, he could fix this.

"I don't like this," he said to Jerome as the other man motioned him over to straighten his neckcloth.

"You tied it too tight," Jerome said with a terse attempt at humor.

Rafe stayed his hand at his neck. "No. Damn it, Jerome, we've known each other for years. You're the talker, I'm the shooter. I hunt people down, and I take 'em back, dead or alive. Now I'm supposed to sit back and let some fancy Pinkerton get a confession, and take the man to court? You know as well as I do the man will never get to the noose, he has too much damn money, too much power."

"Rafe, there's a time for shooting, a time for talking, and a time for valor. Kate is scared, trapped, she's going to need you to have a clear head, be there, be her support. Tonight we try diplomacy."

Rafe cursed and dropped his hand, letting the other man fix the cloth. "And if it doesn't work?"

Jerome stepped back and clapped his shoulder. "Then we let you three shoot your way out."

"Amen to that," Dan said from the doorway. Both he and Finn had bathed, but with their rumpled evening suits and stubble, looked like hastily hired bodyguards.

Jerome groaned. "Come on, we've got thirty minutes to make you into gentlemen."

Dan snorted. "Better hire one in my place then."

Despite his nerves, Rafe smiled to know two equally dangerous men who cared for Kate would be at his back, and would be almost as uncomfortable as he was.

***

Kate was nervous, only years of playing cards with lowlifes kept her features schooled. Her father had hired two women, now fussing at her, and she felt a damn fool. Her hair as curled by a long rod heated in the fire, then smoothed back down and piled in a complicated and sometimes painful fashion on her head.

Her dress was too damn low cut, she was used to wearing shirts designed for men, buttoned to her neck, but her father wanted to "sell the goods" to the man he had promised her to.

Izzy better pull a miracle from her neither regions, Kate thought with a sigh. "Ow!"

"Oh, miss, you need to soften your hair," one of the ladies tsked in a gentle Irish brogue.

"I just need it to stay under a hat," Kate gruffed back, her retort met by puzzled laughter.

"Is she ready?" All three women winced at the sound of McMaster's rough voice.

"Yes, sir," the petite brunette maid said in a hushed voice.

McMasters, whom Kate resembled too much for her liking, wore a black evening suit. His frame was thin, like hers, but the cut gave an impression of bulk even she had to admit was flattering. His thunderous frown was not.

"Is she wearing a corset?"

"But sir, she refused, and if she's breeding-"

He crossed the room in three steps and raised his hand as if to slap her. Kate met his gaze levelly, prepared to take the blow, hoping she'd bruise, and she wouldn't have to appear at the farce of a party.

"No, not tonight, not before. But after we retire...your punishment will come. Put her in a corset, cinch it extra tight. If you refuse, you'll never work in this town again."

The petite brunette and the taller blonde nodded nervously, their eyes and Kate's tracking him out of the room. 

The blonde sighed. "Miss, we'd better do as he says, but no need to make it tight, yer slim enough."

For the first time in days, Kate smiled. "Could you tie it loose enough to hide a gun?"

The blonde was shocked, but her compatriot smiled. "Why, yes, mum, we could."

***

She felt like throwing up. In her...possible condition, not a rare occurrence of late for Kate, but this was no work of nature.

The man her father introduced her to was short, plump, soft all over, and his beady eyes were glued to her bosom, pushed high and forward by the damn corset.

All around her were her father's friends, or people who wanted to be close to him and his money. They wished her well without meeting her eyes, bored holes into her back with their stares. 

McMasters told everyone she had been away at finishing school, and Kate was forbidden to talk. She knew her twang marked her as a poor nomad from the west, not the innocent young miss who'd been in a convent in France that he purported.

Her beloved boots had been taken away, hard shoes left in their place, and her feet ached. All around the room McMaster's men circulated, watching her like red tailed hawks circling a poor field mouse.

"You are truly his daughter?" The voice was thickly accented in familiar tones, but she did not recognize the owner. He was short, swarthy, eying her suspiciously over the rim of his glass.

She may not have been raised in society, but she knew rudeness on sight, and like so many others in the evening, she merely turned away from him and his attempt to ingratiate himself into her "father's" life through the supposed innocent.

She felt so alone she wanted to cry. Kate trusted Isabella, but it occurred to her she'd never trusted anyone with her life before. And the thought of her petite friend riding to her rescue...through the thin sheen of tears gathering, Kate found herself smiling. 

Heck, it'd be like the delicate princess slaying the dragon instead of waiting for the knight in those tales of Izzy's. She let out a laugh, and several people stopped, this being the first utterance they'd heard from her all night.

She turned away from the prying eyes and the laughter died in her throat. There at the door, were her friends. Izzy was so beautiful Kate knew there was no other woman on earth who could hold a candle to her. All the men were freshly bathed, clean shaven, and dressed like greenhorns.

But it was Rafe that struck her dumb. The man looked so solidly at home in worn denim and loose cotton shirts, but in starched cloth in black and white, he was magnificent.

Those bright eyes of his found her quickly and they stared, awestruck. When she realized how she looked, damned if Kate didn't find herself blushing. 

Was this her rescue? They all looked quite proper, perhaps if she were able to blend in to their small crowd, she could just waltz out the door a free woman. Any hunger for vengeance that had burned in her breast died beneath the urge to preserve herself when her fat toad of a fiancé touched her.

Rafe seemed to get her intent merely from her hard stare, and he took a step forward only to be stopped by Jerome. The taller man nodded behind Kate and she turned to see her father in a fine froth.

"Kate," he said tersely. "You haven't danced yet."

There hadn't been time to learn how to dance, but she knew better than to say that. "I'm sorry," she said simply, devoid of meaning.

At her father's side was the toad, behind them three of her father's bulkiest men, looking like walking jokes in their ill-fitting evening suits.

He grabbed her arm painfully and jerked her forward. Kate stumbled right into the grinning toad's arms.

"Dance lightly, daughter." The last word sent a chill down her spine, and having to choose between the odious man and her father, she practically led the march to the dance floor.

His hands were too low and too high, he smelled like onions, and when she couldn't follow his steps her feet were getting stomped.

Her partner stopped and frowned. "You mustn't be such a clod, try and follow my steps will you?"

She felt her temper grow but under the watchful eye of her father she merely jerked a nod and stepped forward again.

Staring plainly down at her feet she realized the man had no rhythm to match the band, and she merely tried to move by jerking her feet out of the path of his. When she felt a damp hand slide to the side of the cursed bustle and tuck under, even through six layers of cloth, she was so startled she stumbled again.

"I will not have a cow for a wife," he growled and she thought of the very small derringer under her corset. After a long moment of staring into his eyes with a gunfighter's gaze, she decided it'd take too long to retrieve, and he gulped nervously.

"Excuse me."

Her heart stuttered and began to speed like a rabbit ahead of a fox. To her side Rafe stood, waiting, to all the world calm and collected, but she saw bitter rage in his eyes, all focused on the toad turned octopus.

Completely intimidated he nodded and stepped back, and Rafe grabbed her possessively. He led Kate to a darker corner with surprisingly lithe steps, and as he followed the music with natural grace she found it easy to match her steps to his.

When at last they were in a small alcove partially blocked by a large potted plant, she felt herself begin to tremble.

"Rafe," was all could say and he crushed her mouth beneath his.

She melted into him, and the spark she felt at that mere touch was enough to tell her that damn it, there would never be another man in her life that could take his place.

Desperate for more she traced the seam of his lips with her tongue and Rafe jerked back, short of breath. "There's about a million things I want to say to you, but they'll have to wait."

Dazed, she smiled, completely lost to anything but him. "Why?"

Seeing the list in her eyes he groaned and closed his for a moment. "Sweetheart, we've got things to do tonight, and very little time. We've got a Pinkerton coming, now you won't see who it is. When he's close Isabella will walk right past you and open her fan.

"All you've got to do is get your father to talk. Get him to admit something anything, but admitting to a murder would be best."

She felt ill. "Murder? You don't know the man. He won't admit the slightest fault, I can't reckon he'd admit to murder."

"You have to try. It's our chance. He admits it, the Pinkerton hears, and he's arrested."

Fear gripped her. "What if I can't? What if it doesn't work?"

He pulled her to his chest and smoothed her hair. Kate snuggled into his reassuring warmth. "Then Dan, Finnegan, Jerome and I will shoot while you and Isabella high tail it outta here."

Despite her jangled nerves the image of a wild gunfight in the swanky hotel made her laugh. Then it sunk in. "It's a different world, Rafe. This ain't for people like us." 

Cupping the back of her head he turned her face up and their eyes met. "This is Jerome's world, Isabella's, and this is their plan. All two roughnecks like us can do is go along and try."

There was hope in his steady green gaze. Hope she'd never dared to dream of. It was enough. This time, it was Kate who crushed his lips against hers, and when she traced his lips with her tongue, Rafe let her in.

Long minutes passed before a throat cleared. Rafe turned his head, prepared to do battle with one of McMaster's men, but it was Jerome.

"I can appreciate the reunion, but McMasters is looking for her."

Cursing, Rafe let her go and Kate patted at her hair and dress, trying to straighten everything. "I don't know if I can do this, but I'm sure as hell gonna try."

Jerome smiled at her. "You're about the most plain-spoken woman I've ever met, Kate, and subterfuge- lying," he corrected at her blank look, "doesn't come easy. But if your- if McMaster's is angry, his tongue might run a little loose."

Nervous, all she could do was nod, but Rafe squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"I'll take this young buck," Jerome ignored Rafe's snort, "with me now, you'd best wait a moment, Kate. Remember, watch for Izzy."

She squeezed back and let them go, watching their broad backs disappear into the crowd. After two deep breaths, she turned- and slammed into her father's narrow chest.

"Kate. I think it's time we left."

"Wait, no, I mean, no, we can't."

McMasters was a man so unused to hearing "no," it was enough to stop him. His eyes were like cold winter, his grip on her wrist as sure as iron. "No?"

"No. I haven't been out of my damn room in weeks. Please," the word nearly stuck on her throat, "don't make me go back. Yet."

He pulled her close enough that he loomed. Not of inconsiderable height, Kate was thrown off. "I let you out for one night, and you leave your future husband on the dance floor to cavort with the first stranger that comes along? No daughter of mine will be a bitch in heat. You're just like your mother."

Time slowed to a crawl, Kate's world narrowed onto that one word. Mother. He refused to talk about her, refused to address the rumors or appease the curiosity of a lonely daughter.

"I am?" she asked quietly, pride in her voice.

He growled like a wild beast at that. "Gutter trash, nothing more. But she is dead and you are my daughter. I come from a good, honorable family, and you will never smear my name."

What Jerome had said was on her mind, but her temper was in the driver's seat. The glittering ballroom and the large crush faded into the recesses of her mind. 

"I don't have your name. They call me Kid. I don't give a good damn what our blood might say, you ain't my pappy, I ain't your daughter. And you don't ever talk about my mother like that."

For a long moment he was frozen, shocked. With his guards watching more faces turned, and though Kate could feel the weight of their stares, she felt stronger than she had since Finnegan had brought her into the city.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her across the room, a pasted smile on McMaster's face. Kate looked about for Izzy and her red gown, but the petite brunette was nowhere to be found. Damn it, she too knew a temper could force a confession from a man's mouth quicker'n a hound after a rabbit. Tracking her own bounties, she'd done this before, and McMasters was a man to crack.

She had no idea what the damn Pinkerton looked like, and Izzy was her only clue. The old man was heading straight for the lobby and her mind was racing. Memories flitted, and lit on one Izzy had once shared with her, a trick for meeting a man.

"Ouch!" she cried and stumbled as if her ankle had turned. In the damned shoes she was made to wear, not a long stretch. She went down like a sack of feed, twice as heavy and limp. McMasters was forced to stop, or appear truly cruel to the crowd.

He glared at her, and then Kate's "intended" was at his side. "Darling, have you twisted your ankle?"

She nodded, grateful for his manners, even if concern was lacking. He turned to McMasters with a sniffle. "Best to have your men escort her to a couch and send one to fetch the house doctor."

McMasters looked down at her with blazing eyes. "See to it," he barked at his men.

Two pairs of burly arms lifted her and the watching crowd parted like a Biblical sea leading to a long couch. She was set down heavily, and Kate had to bit her lip from crying out as the Derringer poked her sharply. She shifted until it was looser, but it slipped to the bottom of her corset.

The guards took up posts on either side, glares keeping the crowd back. McMasters climbed the stage with the band and his powerful voice cut through the murmurs, telling the band to play, people to dance, no notice to be taken.

Kate watched, dazed at the power he held. The denizens of this strange little world obeyed without question. She'd seen corrupt mayors own little town, ranchers intent on an empire, and never had she seen such power.

He stepped down, the crowd parted even as couples paired up once more to dance. A straight line from McMasters to her, and his expression was deadly.

Time slowed, and a red dress walked into her sight. Izzy's fan fluttered, her steps seemed to thunder, and Kate's heart stuttered.

It was time to make her father confess to a murder, and Kate knew just what crime he should hang for.

She would make him confess to killing her mother.



Kate the Kid Ch. 09



"You are truly a cow," McMasters growled, echoing the sentiment of the man he'd paired her with. Kate knew she had to tamp down on her own temper, or all would be lost.

"Perhaps, but what more could I be when I was sired by such cloddish bull like you?"

His fists curled, a vein in his neck throbbed. "You are nothing like me, a worthless girl. When I thought you were merely a horse thief I would have dragged you back to civilization and hanged you. When you eluded me, I would have hung you out in the prairie, just as I did on my ranch. But when I discovered you were my own blood, I knew there was only one use for you. 

"You will keep your mouth shut, comport yourself as a lady, marry this man, and give me access to monies you have only dreamed of."

"'Comport' myself as a lady? Does that mean act? For as I see it, ladies around here do nothing but share blankets with other men, spend money on dresses, and act as silly as a very slow child. Is that what mother did?" Kate eyed his growing rage and knew to push on. "She took men to her bed, didn't she? So how do you even know you're my pappy?"

Anyone looking at the two could see, but a flicker of doubt crept into his eyes and she knew she'd hit the nail on the head.

He moved to slap her but on of the men stepped forward and grabbed his hand. "Sir, not here, not now."

McMasters trembled with rage. "Unhand me, or die."

His hand was dropped.

"You would do well to hold your tongue, or I will hand you over to my men to do with as they please."

"By all means, go right ahead. Can't get hitched to your fancy man if I ain't no virgin. And if I ain't hitched, can't be shackled to a man like you, driven into the arms of any other, until he kills me."

He swept down, arms caging her on the couch, his face inches from hers. "That slut mother of yours deserved to die. I watched her sputter, begging for her life and yours, laughing. I promised her you would be nothing like her, you be what I made you."

Her blood chilled to hear it confirmed. Rage gripped her, and wanted nothing more than to beat his face with her fists until they were both bloody. But Kate was a seasoned gunfighter, and she knew to keep a level head.

The Pinkerton couldn't have heard, no one but Kate had. With a deep breath, she raised her voice. "You killed her. You killed my mother."

"And as soon as you produce an heir, I will do the same to you."

Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, a snarling ball of rage knocked McMasters to the ground.

The guards drew their guns and suddenly Dan and Finnegan were there, guns trained on the guards.

Screams rang out from the crowd and they began to flee. Kate realized it was Rafe on the ground, pummeling McMaster's face. Before satisfaction crept into her soul, McMasters reached into hiss pocket and drew a gun.

"Rafe, look out!"

A man she'd never seen before rushed in and kicked at McMasters' arm. One of the guards shot, and all hell truly broke loose.

Bodies twisted and tangled, and Jerome grabbed Kate, dragging her back towards Izzy. "Are you okay?" her best friend asked with a tight hug.

"Fine, but McMasters has a gun and that man, guess he must be the Pinkerton, got shot.

"Hell," Jerome cursed, stripped off his jacket, and waded into the melee.

Finnegan was unconscious and bleeding, slumped against a wall, and now a guard was punching at Rafe's head as he struggled to keep a bear hug around McMasters.

Dan Forth was dragging the Pinkerton, bleeding from an arm, back towards safety, and the other guard was dead. It was a mess.

"Izzy, you need to get out of here, it's gonna get real bad, real fast."

"I am not going anywhere."

Kate slipped her hand in the slit a maid had made for her and grabbed the Derringer. Not much of a gun, but it'd work in a pinch.

"Go with the crowd into the lobby, Izzy. Don't argue with me." Her friend's eyes widened, and Izzy turned back to see Jerome stumble back with a bloody lip and a broken nose. "God damn it, git!"

Izzy turned and fled, and Kate saw Rafe was bleeding, weak, on top of the guard. McMasters was scooting away, his pistol naked, the hammer back, the nose aimed squarely at Rafe's head.

Kate raised her own gun, and with the same calm that flowed over her she steadied, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

McMaster's fell, and it made the handful of remaining people stop and stare.

He wasn't moving.

***

"We got him," the Pinkerton, named Charles Montgomery, said with a thick voice. He sat on the couch alongside Finnegan as the doctor bandaged his arm. The shot had grazed him something bloody, but he'd be fine.

Finnegan's head was bandaged up, his smarts not completely knocked out. Jerome was bloodied, but not too much, and Dan forth held McMasters at gunpoint. Kate's shot had done as planned; his gun hand was ruined, but McMasters was alive to face justice.

Rafe's arms wrapped around Kate, and even though he was bleeding onto her dress, she didn't have a complaint in the world.

"It's over, it's truly over."

"Kate, there's something I have to tell you. He hired me...to find you."

She raised her arms to cover his and squeezed them. "I figured. Only bounty worth hiring a man like you would be the one for horse stealin', one way too high. I'd always wondered about it, but I knew it was McMasters, and the stories I'd heard...I always thought it was just revenge."

"I was never going to turn you in, bring you back. Once I got to know you, I couldn't give you over to a man like that. McMasters started in ranching, but when he married your mother he married into the railroads. 

"He became ruthless and unstoppable then. When they needed land, he knew just how to get it. My brother had resisted his 'offers' for his family lands, even come to Boston to fight it. I know he killed him. I know he killed your mother too, and now he'll hang. We can find peace at last."

She had nothing to say to that. In such a short time, she had found her parents, and now to know what her...what McMasters had done, she would be grieving for a long time.

Rafe kissed the top of her head as the doctor let Montgomery stand and waved him over. "My turn." Dropping his arms he stepped around to face her and pulled Kate into a tight embrace once more, and a kiss that seared her to her toes.

Pulling back, he looked into her eyes. "We have things to discuss, so you go on up to Izzy's room and wait for me."

She merely nodded, still dazed by all that had happened.

She caught Jerome's arm as he tried to leave. "Jerome, what's gonna happen?"

He looked down at her with tired eyes and a soft smile. "Montgomery will turn him over to the police. He'll be brought to trial, and now that I know he killed my friend as well as my friend's mother," he laid his hand over her tightly locked fingers, "I will move heaven and earth to see justice served. They'll hang him. I'll have my lawyer work out the estate, for I have a feeling you'll want nothing of it. But start thinking now, Kate, you could be a rich woman.

"Come on, I'll see you to the lift, but then I have to get to the telegraph office."

She put her arm in his and walked to the lobby. Police had arrived, the crowd was minimal, but still a few registered guests lingered, staring wide-eyed at Jerome's wounds and the blood on Kate's dress.

She took the lift not to Jerome and Izzy's floor but her own. Police were there, along with men in dark suits she took to be more Pinkerton's. Jerome was spending a fortune, and she couldn't be happier in her heart that her friend was marrying such a kind man.

With the help of the two maids she found her own things and soon wore denim trousers, the embroidered shirt she'd packed away, and her low-slung belt with her guns. Even with her breasts bound stiffly, her hair tucked tightly beneath her hat, she felt better than she ever had.

Luckily no one paid her any heed as she packed her scant few things into her saddle bag, slung it over her shoulder, and left.

She took the stairs to Izzy's floor and knocked softly on the door.

Her friend had changed into a more subtle blue dress, still appropriate for the evening, and her hair was dark and flowing. "Kate, or should I call you Kid?"

Kate dropped the bag and pulled her into a hug. "Izzy, I owe you so much."

Her friend stepped back with a smile. "I got to be the white knight this one time, it was all worth it for that alone. You owe me nothing. Come inside."

Kate shook her head. "Look, when will you and Jerome get hitched?"

Folding her arms, the smaller woman leaned against the doorway. "When we get back to the Rockport, as soon as things calm down. You're leaving, aren't you?"

"Izzy, me 'n' Rafe...it's complicated."

Kate was met with a wry, knowing smile. "I won't try to stop you, I know better than to break a wild horse. Promise me you'll go see White Cloud, meet your new niece or nephew, and come see me in the morning."

Kate was suddenly ashamed to remember her sister had given birth, and it had slipped her mind. "Damn, you're right. But why don't you come see me?"

"If that's what it takes, I can be at Hull House after breakfast."

Kate chucked her friend on the chin. "See you then. And I promise to be there for your wedding."

"I'll hold you to it."

Kate grabbed her bag, waved goodbye, and set down the hall for the side stairs. The door opened just as she reached it, and a man exited. She recognized him as the man with the strange accent who'd tried to speak with her early on in the "party."

Afraid to be recognized, she ducked her head and murmured an apology.

Once she made it to the alley, all that was left was to find Sweet, see White Cloud, and she'd be free to head west and clear her head.

***

Kate's heart ached. What had been intended to be one night had become three days. Three days of sharing old and new stories with her sister, her brother. Three days of holding the miracle that was her nephew.

Michael Eagle McMillan. He had his uncles eyes and lusty war cry, and when his little fists curled around her fingers Kate was lost, hopelessly in love.

And three days of her monthlies, which told her the miracle of a child was not hers.

She couldn't put it into words, but it was an aching hole in her heart. The thought of building anything with Rafe struck terror into her heart, but the dreams of a child with her hair, his eyes, that had been all to get her through her nights of captivity. She couldn't face Rafe now, could only hope time apart would cool his ardor and her own. 

"This man haunts you," White Cloud said quietly, nursing her son on the third morning. "Why do you not go to him?"

"Your brother loved me, because I was wild and free. Your people, people of my heart, value that. But whites don't always. Look at the way I've lived. How could any man want me for a wife? How could I want to stay in one place, see the same four walls every day until I died?"

White Cloud's husband, Reverend William McMillan, came into the room with shining eyes and a smile for his wife and son. "Kate, I overheard. God gives us no greater gift than love, and love never restricts us. Love supports us, makes us greater than we are alone. If this young man truly loves you, as you do him, you will make it work any way you can."

She snorted at that. "Easy to say when you married a woman with the exact same dream as you Will; helping the unfortunate."

He kissed his wife's temple. "And blessed I am for that. But if she wanted to stay in the west and I here, we would have found a way to compromise. I love her so fiercely, I would do anything."

Kate bit her lip. Truthfully, she was jealous, always had been of their love. It was truly deep and undying.

Exactly what Izzy felt for Jerome. Izzy- "Oh God!" Kate shot to her feet. The happy couple looked at her with concern. "Izzy hasn't been here, I have to go check on her. It's not like her."

"Everything should be fine, the paper said McMasters is still in jail," Will said calmly. "But if it makes you feel better, you must attend to your friend."

"I'm sorry, I will be back," Kate promised, but she was halfway up the stairs to gather her things.

The hotel wasn't far, but the ride through the crowded streets seemed to take forever. When she found the hotel she tossed the reins and some coins to the porter and rushed in.

Kate hadn't even made the lift when a voice shouted her name. She turned and saw Jerome, looking haggard and tired.

"Jerome, wha-"

"Kate, is Isabella with you?"

"No, she was supposed to come see me-"

"When did you last see her?" He now gripped her arms, painfully.

"The night I left, I said goodbye. She was in her room, alone."

Jerome cursed like a miner with a failed vein. Even Kate's eyes widened. "What's going on?"

"She's missing, we thought she was with you. Rafe is out looking for you right now."

"I've been with my sister and her new son. I left Izzy at this hotel in one piece." Her mind raced. "Jerome, we thought those men following us were after me, but what if it's tied to those notes you were getting?"

He went ghostly white. "Benito Vercelli."

"Her brother?" Her heart stuttered. The man at the party had had a strange but familiar accent, as if Italian like Isabella, but from a different region. And he had been coming onto Izzy's floor via the side stairs, stairs used by staff only, stairs she had used to sneak out.

"Jerome, I think I saw him. I think he took her."

Deep anger possessed him so deeply he shook. "We have to find Rafe."

"Where would he take her?"

"New York or Boston, or wherever the fastest ship to Europe might be leaving from."

"I'm going there, now."

Only Jerome's hand stopped her. "Kate, out west you might be the Kid, and one of the best trackers, but in the states, it's Rafe."

Oh, she knew his reputation all too well, but the thought of facing him when she'd left, so cowardly, was a heavy weight.

"Well I gotta do something. My best friend is out there, I can't just sit still!"

"Kate, I'll go make sure everything with McMasters is on track, and none of us are needed until we can get back. You go upstairs, get Dan or Finnegan to wait here in the lobby, and if Rafe isn't back by then, go and find him. That's what you can do."

She nodded and watched him leave with an aching heart. Her best friend had been kidnapped, all signs had pointed to that happening, or Jerome meeting with an accident. But the second McMaster's entered her life, she'd forgotten all about it.

Izzy was in terrible danger, and it was all Kate's fault.



Kate the Kid Ch. 10-11



Authors Note: Dedicated to Zoee with great thanks. Without your brilliant suggestions this chapter could not have been written! Also, this chapter is labeled as 10-11 but appears in the novel as Chapter 11. This has been done to sync up the Literotica chapters with the novel's chapters.

*** *** ***



The furthest into the states Kate had ever been was Chicago or St. Louis. They were settled and civilized, to be sure, but they were still very much frontier towns. The clothes each year got more and more dandy on the citizens, guns seen less and less, but the air of freedom and expectation was there.

Now Kate was delving deeper east, and she felt like that King Odysseus in one of Izzy's stories; searching for home after a war only to face monster after monster, danger after danger.

Sweet was boarded up with White Cloud and her family, and Kate knew her beloved horse was safe. She'd left word with Dan Forth of her plans, knowing Finn was as high-handed as Rafe and Jerome and would never let her go east alone.

With each stop she drew more and more stares. Something had changed, and no matter what she did, Kate was not passing for a boy, and here women did not wear pants like men. Oh, she knew there was that nurse from the civil war walking around in her old pants from her uniform, but the woman had a letter from congress granting her permission.

At a general store Kate plunked down some gold for two dresses of simple muslin cloth. She had to wait for the train to make another stop before she could change, and it felt odd.

Her time with McMasters had made her more and more used to dresses, but those had been heavy, of fine cloth, very restrictive. These cheaper ones store-bought and not tailored were loose, and long enough to hide her boots, though the distinctive thud of them sounded as she walked. On that, Kate would not budge.

She wore her duster now to cover her guns, having been told by many passengers in the saloon cars that an armed woman would be arrested. She knew she made an odd sight, but she was ready for anything.

Boston was her first target. A wire to Finn's cousin Robert Finnegan had told her Benito Vercelli had entered the country through Boston Harbor, and it washer guess that's how he'd leave.

Boston was magnificent. There seemed to be as many people in the crowded, dirty city as there were in all of California, if not more. Garbage lay in streets, buildings were slammed together, but the city had a sense of life to it that amazed her.

She found herself stopping constantly, gawking like a country mouse. A few times she'd tried her hand at gathering information in saloons and taverns, but Kate quickly learned only women for sale entered these establishments in the city.

She needed, Kate hated to say, a man.

Robert had directed her to the Irish neighborhood. Here the smell of garbage and death was strong, people crowded tightly as they bustled about, and more than one pickpocket tried their hand on Kate only to feel her squeezing grip break a finger or two.

On wooden posts at every street corner strange flags and sometimes dead animals were strung up. She learned from an old woman begging for bread on the street these heralded gang territory.

The gangs Kate knew, like the Cowboys, were loose packs of men riding through towns and range, killing, raping, and stealing. The gangs here were more organized, staying in one spot, and all crimes from murder to pick pocketing were orchestrated and monitored.

The address she'd been given was a tea house, and outside lounged what city dwellers called ladies of ill repute, their bodies nearly bare their eyes glassy and hollow. The looked her up and down but made no greeting or other move as she stepped inside.

Inside was a long counter with only two jars on it, behind it an old woman who looked like a grizzled tree. There were two small tables, both empty, and flies buzzed in a corner where a crack in the walls had been stuffed with a dirty rag.

"No beggars! No coin; get out!" The woman said with a thick brogue.

"I have money, and I'm meeting Robert Finnegan here."

The woman's skin went from molasses to moon-pale in a flash. "Have a seat dearie, I'll bring ya a clean pot o' tea and a cup."

Kate resisted dusting one ancient-looking chair and sat with her back to the corner, watching the door and wavy leaded-glass window to the street below.

The small woman moved quickly, cleaning the tea pot and cup with a rag as dirty as that in the wall. She set the pot to boil filled with water from a tub that looked like dishwater.

Kate tried to stop her stomach's grumbling, knowing she wanted nothing from the strange little shop.

Outside the people in the street seemed to go on alert, like animals at a watering hole sensing a coyote. Kate sat up and fingered her gun as the people in front of the shop parted, and a dark shape climbed the four narrow stairs to the porch where the glass-eyed women cooed to him.

The door opened to reveal a man unmistakably Finn's cousin. Taller than Finn, he was broader, and thick with muscle, but he had the same black hair and bright blue eyes. He was younger than Finn, closer to her own age, but his eyes were crinkled attesting to time spent outdoors that complemented his slight tan.

"You must be the Kid."

Kate stood and nodded touching the brim of her hat as was habit. At the gesture, which she knew was strange for a woman in the east, he raised a dark brow. "And you must be hisself, what do I call you?"

"Robert will be fine. And how are you, Janet?" He turned to the old woman who was trembling.

"I be as fit as a fiddle, sir."

Robert crossed to the counter and peeled off fresh currency, dollars Kate barely recognized, living in a world of gold as she did. "That's for your time, and silence. We won't be staying, but we were never here, yes?"

The woman took the money and nodded. "God bless ya sir, faith and my eyes know you were ne'er here."

He nodded and held his arm out to Kate. "You'll need food and a place to rest, I assume."

She crossed to him but didn't take the arm. "That'd be wonderful, thank you."

Shrugging he turned and led her onto the street. To her amazement people on the street turned their eyes to the ground, and parted for him like he was the richest sky-pilot in the area.

He led her to an alley that was cleaner than the others she'd seen, and up rickety wooden stairs he led her to a balcony. Chairs sat outside doors, many of them occupied by old men and very young men and women. All had hungry eyes, and the coloring of pure Irish. Seeing a few redheads, Kate slipped off her hat, knowing she wouldn't command too much attention.

"Here we-" Robert turned back to her and froze.

She felt herself blushing under his inspection, not that she was attracted to him. Oh, he was an attractive man, but after Rafe MacNeil, no men raised her pulse a bit. No, it was the knowledge that dawned on her; she was a woman alone in a land where women were powerless.

"Are," Robert finished with a smile.

He opened a door and she peered inside to see a cushioned chair, writing desk, a decent-looking rope bed, and a small table with a chamber pot and washbasin.

"Thank you."

"Why don't you wash up and change, then we'll eat, and we can begin our search."

Nodding, Kate watched him close the door before breathing a sigh of relief. What was it about the Finnegan men?



***



Rafe stepped off the train killing mad. He was sick of Kate running from him. Damn it, she was most likely going to be the mother of his child, the damn fool woman should have more sense than to run from a seasoned tracker.

Dan and Finn were laughing at him, at least with their eyes. For all the hell Finn had put him through, the man was growing on him, all Kate's friends were. Dan Forth was quiet, watchful, but he had a sharp sense of humor. Finn may be a bit naïve, but his heart was in the right place.

The only one who sympathized with him was Jerome. His oldest and dearest friend was scared for Isabella, and Rafe had never seen Jerome scared. The man hunted bears, presided over one of the largest companies in the world, laughed in the face of danger. 

Now he was pale and drawn, his jaw set tight to hide his nerves, but his wringing hands gave him away.

At least Rafe hoped being back in his hometown would help his friend. Jerome might look to the world a polished businessman, but he'd grown up in the slums, and he knew every alley and corner in the city. They'd find Isabella, but Kate was another matter. 

"Where to first?" Dan asked quietly, watching the parade of all classes along the train platform.

"We find my cousin, you and I," Finn replied. "Jerome you and Rafe should go check in at home. If Isabella managed to get word out to you, it'll be there."

"I'd like to go with you," Rafe barely ground out.

Finn clapped him on the back. "I'm sure we'll find Kate soon enough, but I'd rather you calm down a bit before you see her. I'd not like to have you wring my friend's throat."

"She deserves it," Dan snorted and started down the platform for their bags.

Finn raised a brow and shook his head, stepping closer to Rafe. "Keep an eye on Jerome, he looks ready to burst. He needs you right now. We know where to find you, and after I find my cousin, we'll come get you. If Izzy's left town already, we'll know, and I'll make sure Kate doesn't follow. Not without us."

Rafe nodded after a long moment, reigning in his own temper. Isabella was the main concern now, Kate could wait.

Jerome had sent word and his carriage was waiting for them, the driver dressed smartly. He nodded briskly and grabbed their bags from their hands before either man could protest, holding the door open.

Inside the carriage Jerome seemed at home. He'd long ago changed back into the clothes of a citified gentleman, and now Rafe felt like the odd man out.

"We'll find Izzy. I'd be surprised if Kate didn't have her already, and Benito tied to a chair waiting for you."

This drew a tired a smile from his friend. "I can see it, that Kate has a mighty fine temper, but a cool head. I'm sure whatever she's doing, she's being careful."

Rafe thought for a moment of his child in Kate's arms. A beautiful little girl, perhaps, who looked just like her mother. Or perhaps a strong boy, again like his mother. Kate was the one with looks between them. He smiled. "I hope so."

An hour later and both men were at their wits' end. No messages from Izzy or Kate, and none of Jerome's business contacts had heard word of Benito Vercelli in town.

Jerome had thrown two tumblers into the fire and Rafe had had to fend off two eager maids while blushing guiltily. Both men felt they were lost.

"Sir," Jerome's man announced after clearing his throat at the open door. "A Misters Finnegan and Forth to see you both, gentlmen."

"Send them in," Jerome growled, and loosened his cravat.

Dan and Finn entered with big grins, though Finn's was directed at one of the maid's Rafe had turned away. "We've found Kate, she's safe, and I spoke with my cousin's man," Fin said, slumping into a chair rudely uninvited. He dug out a cheroot and offered them around, Dan and Rafe each partaking. "She has a great idea. If Benito is kidnapping, your business friend wouldn't know about it, but the criminal underworld would. Kate and Robert will be hitting the saloons tonight to get information. I know the territory, and he and will split it. I'll take Rafe, we'll do fine in the Irish neighborhoods, Jerome you and Dan can cover the saloons held by other gangs."

"Gangs?" Jerome asked and withdrew a fine cigar from his crested humidor.

"The world works no differently in companies, cities, or the west, Jerome. Where is Kate now?" Rafe growled out.

Finn grinned like a wicked creature of myth about to play a prank. "She's safe enough with Robert. Nobody will touch her if they think she's his gal."

Rafe choked on the swig of bourbon he'd just downed. "What?!"

"It's just an illusion," Dan quickly replied. "We'd better get a move on, the supper crowds will be settling in after work soon, and Jerome, you need to change before you get kidnapped."

Jerome looked down at his formal suit. "What's wrong with this?"

The laughter at least made him smile.



***



Kate was excited and jumpy. After hitting two saloons she'd begun to feel more than a little irate. She'd never had to depend on a man for protection before, and now the only thing that was keeping her from being carried off into the night was Robert's large frame and fierce glower. She also suspected a rough reputation to equal his cousin's.

At the second saloon they'd found a man deep in his cups who had a story. He'd wanted money, and though Kate had tried to pull out her own gold the high-handed Robert had brushed her aside.

The man's name was Reynolds, and just that day he'd placed an Italian man and a furious, gagged woman on a ship bound for Italy. A ship owned by none other than Vercelli Shipping.

"Well, I need to book passage as soon as possible," Kate said to Robert as they left the smoky, crowded saloon.

He took her arm and she fought the urge to move away. What was wrong with her? She was her own woman, she had no ties to Rafe, and Robert Finnegan was young, smart, and devilishly handsome. Women started at him in awe, and she felt nothing.

"The offices will be open in the morning, I can show you where to go on the wharf. I'll come with, make sure they don't cheat you."

She stopped short. "You're not-"

"Going to Italy with you?" He laughed. "Hardly, I have work to do here. Let's get you some food, get you settled in bed, and then I have some business to attend to."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she took his arm again and fell into step. "Food sounds wonderful."



***



The night was in full darkness when something woke her. For two nights now she'd lain awake late into the evening, unable to sleep with city noise. There were so many people, the air was so dirty, she wondered how people could live like this.

When she did sleep she dreamt of the open range, the clean air, the clear water. It struck her upon waking that second night that since she'd met Rafe, the nightmares had stopped.

A knock sounded at the door, heavy and impatient. 

"Hang on just a dang minute!" She hollered and turned over. Stumbling around for a match she struck it and lit the small lantern on the table by the bed. 

Despite the coolness of the night by the sea, Kate was sleeping as she always did; in a blouse. She found the silly dress she'd spent the day in and draped it loosely over her, shoving her messy braid inside.

She opened the door and expected to see Robert, but instead the sight greeting her stopped her heart.

Rafe was scruffy. His hair, though neatly trimmed, was messy, and he had a thick growth of three or so days of beard across his face. Above it his green eyes fairly glowed.

His clothes were still western, his collar open to reveal tan skin and the beginnings of chest hair.

All Kate could do was blink, expecting him to start screaming. His forearm was braced on one side of the door, a large hand gripped the other side, pinning her as a captive audience.

Instead he moved so fast she couldn't stop him, and he drew her into his arms.

"Don't ever run, again," he growled, his lips brushing hers, and then he crushed their mouths together.

Her head spun, and all conscious thought flew from her mind as Kate clasped him back. Rafe backed her into the room and kicked the door shut with such force the furniture and window rattled.

He stopped long enough to rip her dress off and that cleared her foggy mind. "Hey! I only have two of those, y'know!"

He growled like a mountain lion and yanked her shirt over her head until she was naked, then Rafe stood back, staring at her body up and down as if memorizing it.

"Did you let him touch you?"

"Who?"

He stepped close again, menacing. "Finn's damn cousin."

She slapped him without thinking and he took it, his head coming back slowly, his green eyes murderous.

He moved like lightning and they crashed to the bed. He was still fully dressed, dusty, his belt buckle gouging into the soft skin of her belly painfully.

His lips distracted her, smothering her in a soul-searing kiss, and his hands roamed her body with an urgency she felt rising in her own body.

She pulled his hat off as his mouth slid across her cheek to burn a path along her throat. She moaned and was rewarded with a small nip of hiss teeth.

Digging her fingers in his hair she tried to pull him off but he wrapped her in a bear hug, trapping Kate breathlessly. One jean-clad leg slid between hers, rubbing slowly, and she arched her back at the grinding sensation.

"Kate," he breathed against her neck, nipping at her collarbone. She shivered helplessly, lost to sensation, craving more.

"Damn it, Rafe," she growled and managed to get her hands between them. She tugged at his belt, shoving the denim down a few inches until he helped her.

Pushing back until her was on his elbows his hard erection teased her mound while his eyes searched hers. "Are you sure, honey?"

She ignored the endearment and grabbed the collar of his shirt. With one tug she opened it, baring his chest to her gaze. "Now, MacNeil, now!"

He surged into with one swift thrust and she bit her lip to keep from screaming with pleasure. She felt the warmth of his body to her bones, and once joined, something felt so right she could barely comprehend it.

"Move it," she grumbled when he kept still.

"Damn it, woman, I won't let you use me."

She reached for his face to try and pull him into a kiss but he ducked her, wrapped her tight once more, and rolled until they were on their sides.

The angle was different, and the pleasure widened her eyes. "Do something," she pleaded only to be rewarded with a chuckle.

"Women, I'll take my time with you. If I know you, you'll run before first light. I want every minute until sunrise."

To prove his point he pulled back and sank in slowly, sending shivers coursing through both their bodies.

"Yes, please!" Kate gasped and something broke in Rafe. Hands on her hips he rocked their bodies together in a constant, slow slide. The please in Kate's mind spiraled through her instead of building like steam in a tea kettle.

She closed her eyes and sought his lips and with Rafe found a breathless kiss. Her mind spun, her aching nipples grazed his rough chest hair, and the pleasure of him deep inside her built slowly, maddeningly.

The first peak crashed like a surging wave and she screamed into his mouth, nails digging into flesh as her body jerked and trembled.

Rafe sucked in her holler, determined to hold back his own pleasure. There was little he had in this world to convince Kate he was her man, but what little he did have he'd use like a gun.

For hours they didn't talk, instead everything they felt was shared through their bodies. Rafe made her kneel and grasp the headboard, claiming her from behind like a stag, making her swoon with pleasure. He took her body in ways she'd never dreamed, each new pleasure a treasured discovery.

She lost count of the peaks, his few and far between, but his cries of pleasure drowned hers out.

They took breaks where he lit a cheroot, letting Kate take pulls. She coughed through a few and mellowed on the sweet cherry-flavored tobacco.

Words beyond simple demands and cries of pleasure did not pass until morning. Only when Kate was soft and pliant against him did Rafe trust his voice.

"Marry me, Kate."

She gave a start, but before she could speak he turned and leaned up on one elbow, looming over her, his face open and earnest. "I know you're with child, I know it's mine. I want you to be my wife. I want a family. We can live wherever you want, we can ranch. Hell, you can run the ranch if you want and I'll watch our son. Or daughter."




Kate the Kid Ch. 10-11



A frown formed between her brows. "Rafe, I-"

"Kate, I know you're used to being alone, but you don't have to be alone anymore. Trust me not to weigh you down. I'll do anything to be with you. I- what's wrong?"

Tears had gathered at the corner of her eyes. "Rafe, I'm not with child. I thought I was, but I'm not."

He sank down to his back, a paul around his heart. "Kate, are you lying?"

She shook her head. He felt it, more than saw it. "It doesn't matter."

Beside him Kate froze. "But why get ta marryin' if there's no child?"

He turned to her and took a deep breath. He hadn't told anyone he loved them since Faith, and the words felt rusty on his tongue.

She turned her back on him before his nerves could calm. "See? No reason. Rafe, you need to leave. I tracked Izzy and her brother to a ship, the Palmatorre. It left yesterday, but another ship, the Adovanti leaves in the morning. I'm booking passage, and I knew Jerome will want to be on it. Whether or not you're on it doesn't matter. We can't keep doing this."

His heart winced. She didn't love him. She wasn't carrying his child. She'd been using him for a good time.

He began to understand what some of the women who'd briefly stayed in his life must have felt, and Rafe felt lower than a slug.

He felt her leave the bed, heard her begin to dress, and then sounds of packing began. He was too heartsick to move for long minutes, and then a plan began to formulate.

He was Rafe MacNeil, the toughest bounty hunter in all of Texas. His name was known far and wide, even in territories he'd never set foot in. He'd never run from a fight.

The Kid might be a legend in her own right, but this was no gun fight in the street. This was a battle that mattered, and damn it, he'd win.

He turned to see her at the door, in pants once more, laughably posing as a man. She clapped her hat on and gave him the nod of one ranch hand to another, a move designed to distance them even more.

But those amazing violet eyes of her told another tale.

Rafe MacNeil would make her his, he'd bet every last cent of Jerome and Isabella on that. The only one left to convince, was Kate herself.



Kate the Kid Ch. 12



Author's Note: Thank you to the fans of the series for waiting so patiently for an update. This is not the end of Kate The Kid, keep that in mind, this is just a major chapter on the relationship between her and Rafe. The gang still has to rescue Izzy so there is more to come!

***************

"Dan! Finn!" Kate ran to her friends on the deck of the Adovanti and hugged them both around the neck, they in turn raised her legs, swinging. They set her down, all three grinning madly as Rafe and Jerome watched with smaller smiles.

"It's still amazing to see you in a dress," Dan said, shifting uncomfortably in his own suit.

Kate looked at him and Finn done up like city gents. "I take it Jerome has remade us all?"

"Not everybody," Rafe said after clearing his throat.

She glanced back at him, having noticed him first on the deck of the ship, still in his denim shirt and rough pants. The open sea air blew his hair, almost curly from the humidity that was upon them all like a wall.

He'd left as she was packing to roust the others and it had been Jerome, not Robert, who had come to collect her. To her consternation Jerome had spent the entire morning with her gathering up clothes suitable for the journey, even having a dressmaker take precise measurements and cabling them to a dressmaker in Rome. As they went he told her stories in a melancholy way of his life on the rough streets and how time had removed him from that life, in fact any life, until Izzy had come along.

Even if she hadn't loved Izzy with her whole heart, Kate would cross mountains on foot and swim the ocean to bring Jerome his woman back.

"No, not everybody," Kate said. Smiling she turned back to her old friends. "Who ever thought the gang would be in the states and even leaving them for Europe?"

"So what's the plan?" Finn asked quietly.

"We have a month at sea to figure that out," Dan said. "Let's use some time to find out more on this Vercelli and then we'll come up with a plan."

Kate nodded to Jerome. "If it's worth doing, it's worth taking our time and using it wisely for our goals. C'mon, I ain't never been on a ship, let's explore!"

Rafe watched them race off like children. He'd never been on a ship before but he had other goals. And a month at sea with Kate ought to give him enough time to bring her around to his way of thinking. The woman was too focused on finding Izzy to take the blinders off and really see him. He vowed when they set foot in Italy everything would be different.

"It's amazing, she has no idea, does she?"

Rafe roused himself from his thoughts and turned to Jerome. "About what?"

"I tried to tell her, her mother was the sole heir of the Reynolds dysnasty, and now that makes Kate the heir. The woman could afford to buy three ships like this if she wanted."

Rafe put his hand on his friend's tight arm. "Let's not tell her."

"Why on earth not?"

"Jerome, I mean to marry Kate. I think I knew it before there was talk of a child, and I damn well knew it before there was any talk of money. I don't want anything but her, but I doubt she'll see it that way."

"Rafe, you're playing at dangerous things ere. She has a right to know that at leas one of her parents was a good woman, from a good family, with a solid legacy for her."

"Christ, Jerome. I love her and I have this one chance not to lose her. What could be more important than that?"

Jerome leaned back against the railing and folded his arms. "Is that true?"

Rafe swiped a hand through his hair and then placed his shaky hands on the railing next to his friend. "It is. I know it sounds crazy. She's nothing like Faith, she's nothing like any other woman. Damn it, I wasn't looking for a woman, I had no intention on settling down, but now I know I'll never be happy until I have her with me. Is that so wrong?"

Jerome turned and looked across the sea into the distance where he knew Izzy was, scared and alone but for the bastard Franco. If he touched her...he felt his fist clench and unclench. "No, it's not wrong. Love makes fools of us all, but in the end we're stronger men for it."

"I hope to hell you're right."

***

It seemed everyone was intent on some for of merriment in order to forget their troubles. Everyone but Jerome and Kate. Jerome retired to his cabin after dinner pleading a headache and need of rest, Rafe disappeared without a word, and Dan and Finn made noises about a poker game, apologizing to Kate that in this world, women did not play.

Alone Kate had three options; retire to her own cabin, stroll the deck, or join the other ladies in a parlor for tea and gossip. Since the latter appealed about as much as a lynching to her and the former felt a mite bit depressing, Kate grabbed one of the shawls Jerome had bought her and headed for the deck.

The ship was one of Izzy's and transported cargo, cotton she learned from the first mate, as well as a handful of passengers. There were just twelve outside their group and after dinner only the crew was on deck, bustling, cleaning, ad patrolling. They all ignored her, and she was grateful. 

She allowed her mind to wander at last from Izzy to Rafe. Izzy was safe enough on board one of her own ships she'd have the captain's quarters and Franco would not be allowed to try anything. They would only have to worry upon docking and that was a month off. 

Rafe...now that was another matter. Her heart still ached from that morning. How could he share his body with her like that but have no kind words, nothing she wanted to hear? She felt a fool, how her heart had jumped when he had offered to marry her, but it had all been an illusion.

Ruby's words came back to haunt her...Rafe was a man of honor but little emotion. As foolish as it seemed she didn't want to tie her fate to the wagon of a man who didn't love her. But why was that, she asked herself did she love him?

There was a twinge in her chest and she knew the thought was scary. Life was in turmoil right now but she was no further along than she had been the day she met Jerome and Rafe. She needed to strike out on her own. MacMasters didn't change anything, the range was her home, Frisco too, but she needed to settle down and do something ow that the Kid was retired. Perhaps she would talk with Finnegan and get some tips.

Disheartened she pulled the shawl tighter around herself and left the deck for the small passageways leading to the cabins. She slipped the key for her door from her pocket and slipped it into the lock, but the door swung slightly ajar.

"Tarnation," she mumbled and went for her .45 in the other pocket. She kicked the door open with her boot to find Rafe sitting in the small chair next to the bed. All the candles had been lit giving the small pace an intimate light, and the gold of the flames cast his skin dark.

In his suit still from dinner, albeit with the collar open, everything about him was dark except those amazing eyes. The room was delicate and feminine and he seemed impossibly large and masculine against it.

"What are you doing here?"

"Still have the gun, I see."

She put it on the small table and closed the door but didn't lock it. "I packed plenty of ammo, too."

"Have a seat, Kate. I only want to talk. For now."

She started to do as he said but the "for now" stopped her. "What is this?"

"Did you think I would just ignore you? Ignore what we have together?"

That damn twinge in her chest started again. "What we have together?" she softly repeated. "Rafe, I told you, I ain't the motherin' kind, nor the marryin'. And in case you didn't notice, we're on a ship. If you want to tussle again know I only have enough herbs for a few go 'rounds."

Something in that green gaze shuttered. "So practical of you."

She did finally sit on the fine feather mattress with a sigh. "One of us has to be."

"Kate, what are you afraid of?"

She could only blink. She was afraid of so many things. Of losing Izzy, of MacMasters getting free and seeking revenge, of life not being the same again. Of never being Kate the Kid again.

"Kate, I have no home to speak of. I have no family, Jerome is it. I won't ask you to change your life, I just want to share mine with you. You want to ride together, take bounties together? Fine, I'll do it. Yo want to wear men's clothes and drink and gamble? Fine, I'll do that with you, as long as you don't bind that gorgeous bosom again."

She blushed darkly at that and drew the shawl tighter around her shoulders. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying that I want to marry you. I want to be with you, be by your side. I don't care where, I don't care how."

She hadn't expected this. Perhaps an assault on her senses, the fast, furious tumble into ecstasy she so craved, but not this. She looked into his eyes, a cool, level gaze of a gunfighter, and she didn't see what she wanted there. If pressed, Kate couldn't even say what she sought, but it just wasn't there. 

"Rafe, we have so much to do. We have to rescue Izzy, and see that she and Jerome get married. Only when that's done can I plan my life."

He remained still, again every inch of him a hardened gunfighter. And God help her, Kate just didn't feel up to the draw. She felt changed she felt strung out, and part of her just wanted him t shut up and hold her, but the old Kid inside her would die before admitting that.

"Kate we have a month. A month where we can do nothing but wait and plan. Give me that time to show you what it would be like. Just you and me, let me show you."

The idea came from nowhere and she felt it had slapped her silly. "What do you mean?"

"No past, no future, just now, give me now. Let me prove to you I'm someone of value. Let me show you everything I have to offer."

And with that he rose and stepped to the bed. The ropes beneath the mattress groaned with his weight and the movement of the ship pushed her into him. All he did was put his hands on her shoulders and kiss her, very softly.

If it hadn't been for that kiss, slow and drugging, she could have said no, could have asked him to leave, but Kate was lost. Her hands slid into his hair, cupping his head and she angled her mouth at his, pressing the seam. At last his lips parted and it was Kate who slid in and plundered.

Her hands wandered down to his open collar, seeking the buttons below, eager to expose his skin.

Rafe grabbed her hands and broke off the kiss, panting as hard as she was. "No, sweetheart. We rushed this before, it can wait. I want you to know there is more than something physical between us."

He could have been speaking Chinese to her and Kate might have understood better. "Then what do we have?"

He stood then and her eyes couldn't help but flicker to the impressive bulge in his pants. Damn it, he wanted her, what game was he playing?

"My dear, if you have to ask, I am going to have to show you. I'd offer to stay but I don't think it's a good idea. Have breakfast with me, nine sharp, my cabin."

He left without her answer and she could only stare. One month of that crazy man? At long last she felt her face split into a grin. At least life would be interesting.

***

Jerome looked up at the knock on his door. "Come in."

Rafe entered, looking haggard. "I need some advice."

"Have a seat." Jerome closed the account book he'd been going over and slipped off his glasses. 

"Faith and I, well, Andre took me in. I saw her day n, day out. Marrying her was as natural as breathing, so was loving her. But with Kate, I'm over my head."

"So what can I do for you?"

"Well for starters, you can tell me how to woo a woman."

Jerome raised a brow. "You're asking me this now? Isn't it a bit late?"

Rafe's jaw just flexed, which made Jerome laugh. "I'm glad you find this amusing."

"I've seen hundreds of girls and women chase you. It's just nice to finally see the tables turned. Don't get me wrong, it'd be mighty nice if you two ended up together, and I want you happy, but forgive me while I laugh at the smitten man who's broken the heart of every maid I've ever had."

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Jerome rose from the bed and headed for the desk. "No time like the present then, to get started."

***

Three weeks passed like a dream. At first had just been uneasy meals, walks on deck, card games. Then he started to wear her down. Rafe was good at cards and knew every dirty trick she did. They had to abandon poker and pharo for old maid when they discovered neither could out-cheat the other. 

He told her stories about growing up in the south, about New Orleans, even about his wife, Faith. At first mention Kate had felt an icy alarm but he spoke of the woman fondly, but in the past tense. Faith sounded like a good woman, and it slightly depressed Kate to know she was her opposite in every way.

By the second week she found herself retelling stories from her youth with the Lakota over breakfast, and stories about Dan and Finn after dinner. By the third week it seemed natural to spend so much time together, and even Dan and Finn had stopped looking at her as if she'd gone mad.

Still, every night he left her at her door with nothing more than a kiss. It left her confused, it left her aching and needy in the night. She began to wear the lower cut dresses Jerome had provided her with, to actually worry about her hair, to kiss him with raw hunger, but the man was unflappable.

Slowly it began to make sense what he was showing her. They did get along, and they got along well. He made her laugh, h melded into her circle of friends with great ease. Dan and Finn were even singing his praises and asking her like little old maids when she planned to make an honest man out of him.

Somewhere along the way, Kate realized she loved Rafe. It had been a long, violent ride. Her life had changed so much and yet looking back at every twist and turn, there was Rafe. He was her anchor in the storm, the constant that would pull her through the hardest change to come. 

Izzy and Jerome would marry, start a family of their own. She would always have a home with them, but she wanted one of her own. And she wanted one with Rafe.

She would find a way to make him love her, she knew it, but without Izzy to give her advice there was only Dan and Finn.

When she dared confess her feelings to them over coffee one morning while Rafe met with Jerome to go over their landing plans, she was met with two blank gazes.

"Holy hell, never thought I'd see the day," Dan said.

"That's wonderful," Finn said with sad eyes, his brogue pronounced. 

Kate covered his hand with hers, feeling guilty. She had long ago forgiven Finn for dragging her to MacMasters, but he had yet to forgive himself, and she knew that came from love. Love she did not feel for him, not more than she did a brother, but it still bothered her. "You'll find a great gal yourself, Finn."

Her eyes sparkled as she turned to Dan. "Finn's a rancher now, Spotted horse is long married, Izzy will be soon, and I'm retiring. Your turn is next too, Dan."

He raised a dark golden brow. "I doubt it. Look, Kid, as much as this makes me, um, uncomfortable to say, seduce him."

Finn spit out his coffee into cup and coughed long enough Dan pounded him on the back. "He needs to know how you feel, and if you're not ready to say it, show him."

Finn was blushing as darkly s she was, their Irish skin betraying their feelings. At long last he nodded. "Dan's right. But if that bastard hurts you in any way, just let us know and we'll throw him overboard."

They laughed at that and in the back of hr mind, a plan settled into place.

***

There was only one night left and all the plans were settled, action was all that was required. Jerome had men in Citavecchia where the ships would land soon. His men would tail Franco and Izzy, intervening only if Izzy was in danger. Jerome wanted his own revenge, and the rest of their group was in agreement.

When they landed Jerome would meet his men, taking Rafe and Kate as backup. Dan and Finn would meet the more intellectual of Jerome's men who were investigating Franco, gathering evidence. They all knew there would be a corpse, but Europe didn't work the way the west did and to explain away their actions, they'd need hard evidence.

They had passed the straight of Gibraltar, all of the group save Jerome gawking like greenhorns on a cattle ranch. The white cliffs reminded her of a fairy tale version of the red cliffs in Ute territory. 

With one night left Kate decided it was time. Four weeks of anticipation had driven her mad, in the night she touched herself dreaming of Rafe but it was a shallow pleasure, a pale imitation. 

She often thought back to their last night in Boston. It had been raw, animalistic, but beneath it all it had been tender. Had Rafe been doing exactly as she was? Was there hope he loved her as well?

Smiling as she pulled out the peignoir Suzy had gifted her, Kate hoped to hell there was a chance.

***

Rafe was losing his mind. For four weeks he had followed Jerome's advice and courted Kate the way he would a lady, the way he had with Faith. He loved his long lost wife but she was a shadow in his past. He knew she was in a better place, happy that he had found happiness again. If God was on his side she was his angel and would help him.

Kate was fire on flesh, burning life. He ached to possess her, to claim her as his woman in every way a man could. It drove him wild to see her in those gowns day after day, looking softer than she had but still firm. He loved her lithe muscles, her harsh tang, hell he even loved the way she cursed and cheated at cards and didn't take any guff.

She had taken after Izzy and let her hair fall loose, and often on their walks on deck he had just stood there watching the flame colored tresses blowing in the salty air. Every now and then they would tickle his nose and the scent of flowers rose up. Those times were horrible, it reminded him of their first night together and he still felt guilt at all his assumptions.

Thinking back he knew it would make no difference if she had had a hundred men before him. All that Kate had been through made her who she was, and she was the woman he loved.

This was their final night, and instead of cards in the parlor or a walk on deck she had invited him to her cabin for a nightcap. He'd long changed from his formal suit for dinner into his familiar jeans and a denim shirt. He thought of Kate's own jans, the way they molded to those long legs and the heart shaped ass he adored, and suddenly he was uncomfortably hard.

Before he knocked he untucked his shirt to hide it, took a deep breath, and rapped on the door.

"Come in," came Kate's voice, soft and husky, and his blood pulsed slowly through his body.

He opened the door to see a few candles lit, the room cast into a flickering dance of light and shadows. On the slowly swinging rope bed Kate lay, reclined against the pillows, and her beauty stole his breath.

Her hair was wild and lose, almost wavy from the salty air it looked wild and free, just like Kate. Her clothing if one could cal it that, showed more skin than it hid, but it hid enough to tantalize any mortal man into deepest sin.

The material was sheer, but a shade of blue like her eyes, close to violet. Her large breasts swelled up from the material, her rose-colored nipples mere shadow behind the material which skimmed her narrow waist and the flare of her hips to pool between her legs, the auburn curls a deeper shadow. The skirt of it stopped at the tops of her legs and split on each side revealing the lean muscles that were purely Kate's.

"My God," was all he could say.

She gave him a small smile, her eyes as steady as if they faced ac other at high noon across a dusty street. "Close the door, Rafe."

Mechanically he did, hands trembling. He had promised himself and Jerome he would be a gentleman, he wouldn't touch Kate, but how could he resist this?




Kate the Kid Ch. 12



"Kate," he said, intending it as a warning but her name came out an almost breathless plea.

And then Kate stood up. Her body was that of a goddess or nymph, a huntress or battle deity to be sure. She was so perfect, so beautiful his heart ached. He would gladly trade his life in that moment just for the chance to hold her, but he knew if he did he would be a man lost to his own sensual hell, and in the morning Kate would think this was all he wanted.

"Take off your clothes," she said in a steady, if soft voice.

Rafe started. "What?!"

"You've been a good gentleman, but tonight I don't want a gentleman. I want you, Rafe."

He squeezed his eyes shut knowing no man had ever faced such a trial. "Kate, I-" His eyes flew open at her soft touch on his shirt buttons. She had crossed the room silently and he was frozen, watching those long, slender hands undoing the buttons of his denim armor.

"Rafe, no games tonight. I want this, you want this, why fight it?"

Because I love you and I want you to see that, he wanted to shout, but no sound came out as her hands slipped inside to stroke his bare chest. Rafe sucked in a deep breath and clenched his fists.

"I've been good too, Rafe. I've kept my hands to myself, no matter how many times I wanted to bury them in your hair, to kiss you senseless, to feel your naked body nextta mine." Her twang was gruff with emotion and though his heart pounded, Rafe forced himself to remain still.

She pulled his shirt free but with is arms tightly at his sides it only got halfway down his arms. Kate took a shaky breath and bent to circle nipple with her tongue. Rafe groaned and his eyes closed once more, seeking the strength to fight when every instinct shouted that he grab her and end it in a way that left them both breathless and satisfied.

Something deeper, a voice he didn't often hear, the voice of good sense that sounded suspiciously like Faith, told him she needed this. It had always been a tumble into ecstasy for them before, but perhaps he needed to let Kate take the reins. 

Her hands wandered to his waist and below and when he felt her firmly cup his erection he worried for a horrified moment he would spill his seed like some untried youth.

"Mmm, it seems you've been feeling the same way."

He let her lick up his neck as her hands fiddled with the buttons on the front of his jeans, unsnapping them in a slow manner he found to be sheer torture. She claimed his lips then, finally and her let himself hold her arms. Not to clamp down and trap her, but steady himself on shaky feet.

As her tongue slid in her hand clasped his rigid length and he moaned long and low. Rafe was lost and the only fight left in him was to let Kate set the pace.

She stroked him, long and slow, feeling the vibration of his body echo hers. Kate felt powerful and drugged. Before it had been Rafe always guiding them but tonight it was she. The thrill off it almost made her lose composure, but only nerves trained in years of gunfights kept her steady.

He felt so hot and heavy in her hands, her body softening and growing even more damp, aching to feel him fill her. Kate would not rush this, she needed to put all her emotions into her movements, to show him how she felt. She needed to stall and gather the courage to tell him.

Rafe was losing his mind. Her other hand came to cup the base of his head and draw him down further. As he bent he felt Kate land on her full feet and press closer, her hand still stroking.

He wanted to pleasure her but was afraid to break the spell she had cast. Kate solved the problem for him, drawing her back into an arch and forcing his head down lower to the tops of her breasts. He kissed them hungrily, laving them with his tongue, ignoring the most sensitive bits, delighting in her throaty moans.

Finally at a sound of impatience from her lip he used his teeth to lower the sheer material and captured a soft, plump nipple. He suckled and pulled with his teeth, movements he knew she enjoyed, and he was not disappointed.

He felt her grip tighten and her movements still, and Kate's head fell back. He licked and laved, teased and nibbled, and suckled until he felt her legs tremble, and then he moved to the other offering.

Kate mewled and ran her free hand through his hair, arching her back and holding him tightly. At long last she pulled him away and dragged his swollen lip up to hers and claimed him in a deep kiss.

She pulled back and stared him, and he knew he must look a sight. "Now, take off your clothes," she said with a smile.

He easily returned it and slipped his shirt off, tossing it to the floor where his boots and socks soon joined it. His pants came next until he stood naked before her. Kate's eyes burned like pure flame as they swept over him. Rafe had never been one to show off, but he found himself growing more heavily aroused under her regard.

She backed up and let a hand dangle on the bed. "Lay down."

It went against his grit to take orders from anyone and how Rafe wanted to fight, but that damn voice was back. He moved slowly, unaware that his movements were that of a great hunter in her eyes. He lay on the bed, waiting, temper at the edges warring with the sensual anticipation of what was to come.

Her eyes held his and Rafe didn't know what she was seeking there, but he could definitely see she looked for some sign. If she found it, he couldn't say, because Kate suddenly knelt by the bed and grasped his erection again. He felt his pulse thunder through it, growing heavier as she held it and too late he grasped her meaning.

Kate bent her head over it, a daring act for a woman like her, and innocently she kissed him there as she would his lips. The delicateness of it almost wrested his control and he gripped the sides of the mattress and cursed.

She fumbled delicately, experimenting carefully until she learned from his noises what pleased him. She licked him up and down, swirling hr tongue over the head, flicking it at the small ridge under the head. He was almost shouting, his entire body tense, and Rafe thought he was in danger of losing his mind.

Then she sucked him deep and the war was lost. With a loud roar he exploded his pleasure into her mouth, his body shaking and quaking with the force, his hips pumping and hi head tossed back in surrender.

At long last his muscles went limp but his mind was still wound tight. Kate climbed in beside him and snuggled into his side, her body still warm and tight and he was acutely aware that she hadn't found her release. If he had his way she hadn't found the first of dozens he intended that night.

"Let me pleasure you," he said, finding he still wanted permission, still wanted her to feel a measure of control.

"Oh, you will, but for the moment I want to talk."

She looked at him with such fiercely tender hope and it all unraveled. "Kate, I love you."

She froze, about to speak, her delicate mouth formed an O.

"It's not the sex talking, damn it, if I have to pleasure you senseless and walk out her hard as a rock to prove it, I will. I love you Kate and if you argue with me that I don't I swear I'll handcuff you to me until we get back to Frisco, do you hear me?"

"You...love me?" she asked, dazed.

He nodded and gathered her close in hi arms, sprawling her half over him. "I love you and I want you. I want us, whatever that is. You want to ranch, you want to open a hotel, you want to go into the family business, move to a big city, or keep working as a hired gun, whatever it is, I want to share it with you."

She raised a flame colored brow. "You mean that, if I wanted to ride as the Kid you'd be my partner."

He kissed the bridge of her nose where the bare ghost of freckles trailed. "I mean it."

"What about kids?"

"We don't have to have them. I want kids, I honestly do, a whole passel, but if you don't it's your life, and I want us to have our life. Whatever works for us."

After a long moment she lowered her forehead to his. "Do we have to plan this all right now, it's kind of killing the mood."

He laughed and kissed her, rolling them until he was on top, pressed between her legs, earning him a gasp from Kate. "We have our whole lives ahead of us. I meant what I said, Kate. I want you to know how I feel, and if proving it means walking out of this room leaving you with a grin, I'll do it."

"Don't," She said, cupping his cheek. "Spend the night with me. I want to wake up with you here. I want to stop running. Because I..."

His entire being tensed. "Because?"

"Because I love you too."

With that Rafe claimed his woman at last, and set about making sure she knew in excruciating detail just how she felt.



Kate the Kid Ch. 13



If anyone felt like a fish out of water, nobody said anything. Only Jerome looked like he should be there. The other four wore dusty clothes, but all five had the same expressions. 

His man at the port filled them in. There was no time to wait, to gather more evidence. Franco had ragged Izzy through the streets, loudly announcing to the world that he was going to marry her. Their ship had been slowed, and had beaten theirs by only hours, but time was still wasting.

In the coach ride to Rome nobody spoke. Fingers danced on top of guns, grim eyes scanned the area, not for the culture, but for threats. 

Some strange foreign part of Kate wanted to hold Rafe's hand, but she did not in front of her friends. Back in her jeans and vest, breasts bound, hair tucked up, she wanted to feel every inch the Kid once more but too much had changed her. 

Still this was not her fight, not Rafe's, not even Dan's or Finn's. This was Jerome's, and they were there for backup.

They pulled into Rome and it was a city like any other, crowded and dirty, but they saw the last vestiges of history and Kate's eyes widened. At long last she took Rafe's hand and he gave her a squeeze.

"So we kill him and grab Isabelle, then run like hell, right?" Finn asked softly.

"I kill him, I grab her, we all run like hell. Anybody gets in my way, shoot 'em," Jerome growled, a man on the edge. He gripped his rifle like it was a lifeline, and everyone nodded. "They'll be looking for us at the ports. We meet at the coach as planned. Dan, stay with it and guard it. Rafe, Kate, Finn, you know what to do."

And so they ignored centuries of stories, places, and people, as they rumbled to the impressive office building of Bellaforte Shipping & Co. The street it was on was too narrow to fit more than three people on foot across so they left Dan, the driver, and the coach on the nearest avenue.

Kate would have liked more of a plan, but Jerome kicked in the door and a guard drew a pistol. Rafe shot him with blinding speed that made Kate smile, and they were in.

It was all stark white plaster and marble, the same styling Izzy had given the Rockport, and Kate smiled when it sunk in. "Up the stairs and right at the top, the offices we want are that way."

Finn came up beside her. "I thought it looked familiar."

"Hurry up," Rafe whispered, scanning for more guards.

On the stairs were three, Jerome knocked one out and Kate and Finn shot the others. Finn's shot was a mortal wound while as Kate still could not bring herself to take a life. These men had the look of hired help, matching gold-braided trimmed uniforms, and she didn't want to kill a an just doing his job.

At the top six more waited. In the volley of shots Kate and Rafe each got one, and that bought them time to duck into doorways. Jerome ended up with Kate.

"We'll hold 'em off here, if you go out the window that ledge is wide enough. Take it to the last window."

"Are you sure?"

"I'd stake my life on it. Go on now, get yer woman." She grinned at him over the sound of gunfire but all Jerome did was grimly nod back.

With a Lakota war whoop, Kate turned back into the fray.

***

Jerome balanced himself carefully, but with his broad frame it was no easy trick. He let the rifle dangle over the edge, hanging twenty feet above the tiny Roman street. The sound of gunshots had people out, the more foolhardy, the residents wee closing up their shutters.

He couldn't stop to think of police, of the neighbors, of anything right now but Izzy. He remembered her stories of Franco breathing down her neck, groping her lewdly, chasing her away from her native country into the wild west of America. That lewd beast had her now, and if his threats on the pier had been observed correctly they could very well be locked in with a preacher.

He saw red and moved quickly along the ledge, mindless to it all but seeing his love safe. At long last the final window was in reach. Stopping and steadying himself with a breath, Jerome peaked through and saw Izzy tied to a chair. All else of the room he could see was empty.

The window was locked, so Jerome anchored his foot on some trim, raised the rifle, and used the butt of it to crash in a pane. Following through with his body he broke the trim around the panes which hurt like hell, the hit the hard marble floor with his shoulder, rolled over the rug, and came to his feet.

"Jerome, behind you!" Izzy cried and he didn't even look, just tipped the rifle back and pulled the trigger. A satisfying thump sounded and he dropped the rifle, kneeling beside her chair.

"Jerome, I'm so glad you're here!"

He gripped the back of her head and kissed her, long and hard. Pulling back he looked into her big brown eyes and tear-stained face. "Did he touch you, hurt you in any way?"

Her plush lower lip trembled. "He slapped me, several times. He groped me but- the c-captain would never leave us alone. Thank God for that."

He hugged her close, muscles bunched and tight. "He dies."

The knots on the rope were complicated enough he drew the knife Kate had forced him to buy out west. It cut through the ropes just fine and he barely tossed it aside before Izzy launched herself into his arms.

"Cara mia, ti voglio bene," Isabelle chanted in her native tounge over and over between kisses. 

"Isn't this touching?" A deep voice drawled in accented English. 

From the shadows be the door Franco Bellaforte emerged. Jerome stuffed his beloved behind him and glanced nervously at the rifle several feet away. In Franco's hand was a delicate pistol, one that would be laughable in the west, but close enough could do enough damage. Behind him in the hallway shots still rang out, below on the street people shouted, but for a moment, time froze.

"I had hoped my priest would have been here with the annulment before you reached here."

"Annulment?" Was all Jerome could think to say.

"I cannot marry my bride in the church until her marriage to my pig of a brother is undone. Rest assured she will be mine. In a way I am glad you are here. You can answer something for me before you die."

"Go to hell," Jerome growled, calculating which direction to toss Izzy so at least one of them wouldn't get shot up.

"Tell me, did you amend your will already so my bride gets your little shipping company upon your death?"

He paled and Franco, a fat, odious little man, threw his head back and laughed. Jerome took his chance, threw Izzy down and dove for the rifle. The laughter stopped but by the grace of God the door suddenly burst open and his friends were there.

Bless Rafe and the rest, they read the situation instantly and Rafe kicked out Franco's knees while Finn grabbed his gun. Kate rushed over to grab Izzy. "Izzy! Are you all right!"

Franco fell to the floor, pleading in Italian, cursing them all clearly.

"I'm fine. Jerome saved me!" Izzy beamed and once on her feet ran back to her lover. "What do we do now?"

"We can wait for the police, explain this all, have Franco arrested, and go from there," Rafe suggested.

"Or we kill the bastard and run." To everyone's shock it was Kate that spoke. "Izzy, it's up to you. This is your life, it's your decision."

She looked at her friends, old and new, and Jerome. "Rafe, Kate, go make sure the way is clear. Finn, wait outside."

"Are you sure?" Jerome asked.

Izzy nodded. When the door closed a single gunshot rang out, and then they all ran.

***

They spent the next three days traveling, keeping to small roadside hotels, taking turns at the watch. Dan and Finn took notice that both pairs of young lovers took time alone together.

"Well, looks like the Kid will be settling down too. Rose, Spotted Horse, Izzy, Kate, and even you are getting some land," Dan said, settling next to Finn on the porch of their hotel in Barcelona. 

It was time to relieve him for the watch before morning when they would take passage on a ship back to the states. This time they'd go through New York.

"I don't know about that, Dan. I've been thinking."

"Oh?" Dan handed Finn the bottle of wine he'd picked up that evening ad the Irishman took a swig.

"I have a lot to atone for. Not just what I did to Kate, there's more. I'm thinking perhaps law and order is for me, but not in the territories. No, I'm too well known there. Maybe I'll take a page from my cousin Robert's book and go into law in a city."

"Your cousin is a cop?"

Finn grinned. "Hard to imagine after all those stories of brawls back west, but yes, he is. He's got Boston, maybe I'll settle in New York or Chicago. I just don't think I can settle down quietly to ranching any more. I'll miss all this excitement."

"Well, you have a point. What do you think Kate and Rafe will do?" Dan thought of the stories Jerome had told on the ship about Kate's mother ad grandfather. She had the money left from the sale of a large train company, more money than Izzy or Jerome. He tried to imagine her in that world and the image of Kate with gold-plated guns and dusty jeans made him smile.

"I have no idea, but I think it's time we stopped thinking like a group. It's not just Kate's that's changed, it's the west, it us, it's the group. Nothing is the same, and it's time to stop holding on."

"Cheer up, you sound too dark, Finn. Sleep it off, will you?"

Finn gave him a smile that had killed many a lady and stood, patting his old friend on the back. "It's almost sad, but my point is, Dan, it doesn't have to be."

Dan just watched him walk away, and sank into a deep, watchful think.

***

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith?" Kate asked Rafe in her drawl.

He grinned at her and set their bags in the cabin they would share. "Jerome and Izzy are registered as a married couple, and they will be as soon as we land. Why not us?"

It struck Kate then as she sat on the chair and tossed her hat on the desk, that it was time to start thinking of the future. Not just with Rafe but with what Jerome and Izzy had told her was a legacy from her late mother.

Looking at her man, and realizing Rafe was just that; her man, she knew it could wait. "Then that's just fine."

He closed the door. "We have an hour until we set sail, and I owe you, woman. Take off your clothes."

A deep thrill sang through her body at those words. He didn't wait but peeled off his jacket, vest, and shirt, kicked off hi shoes and pulled off his socks. The site of him, bare-chested, inky hair windblown, was the most erotic thing she had ever seen.

"Take off your clothes." His tone was almost a growl, and she found herself standing, repeating his action until she stood naked.

His eyes raked her hungrily, deepening her arousal to a near breaking point. Silently Rafe crossed to the bed, lay in it against the pillows, and patted the empty space next to him. "Lay down." Now his voice was a purr.

Smiling, Kate did as told and he descended. Rafe was rough hands gently caressing, firm lips, nipping teeth, and searching tongue. She grabbed him where she could, fingertips tracing old scars and the lines of corded muscle.

He pulled, rolled, suckled, and pinched until she writhed, and when her hands sought out his length Rafe pinned them with one hand. "Hell no, sweetheart, I owe you."

"I'll just get you back, darlin'."

He lifted his head and grinned. "I'm counting on it."

His head moved between her legs, and ecstasy claimed them both for hours after the boat set sail.

***

Almost 2 months had come and gone. They landed in America with no one hot on their trail. They rode the rails down to Boston after cabling Spotted Horse and Rose, and Jerome announced he'd marry Izzy there and take no chances.

A week before the wedding was to take place Jerome, Isabelle, Rafe, and Kate sat having dinner. Kate, seeing the looks the maids were passing Rafe, was read to go grab her guns from Jerome's safe and start shooting. Izzy was telling the men funny stories of her early exploits with the gang, making them laugh, and Dan and Finn were out with Robert, carousing.

"I've come to a decision," Kate said when there was a pause. Three sets of eyebrows raised. "Jerome, thank you for all your help in settling my mother's accounts. I've decided I want to invest in your shipping company, and expand it."

"Expand it?" Jerome asked.

Rafe, knowing her plan and approving, sat back with a hand on Kate's chair and beamed.

"The main rail line is still a few years in coming and there are many other places being settled without rail access. I say we give Wells Fargo a run for their money in the stage business."

"Do you think this is wise?" Izzy asked, but in a calm, supportive voice. She couldn't help but glance at Kate, dressed in denim for a nice dinner, and smile.

"I've run the numbers. They don't even tough the old Oregon trail, we start there, make a name for ourselves and grow. We just need an office in Chicago, one in Portland, and we can grow as we need. I'm thinking Finn could run our Chicago office, Dan could run the Portland one, and Rafe and I can run the lines."

Jerome now looked incredulous. "But I thought-"

Rafe held up a hand. "Kate and I have discussed this and are in agreement."

"Well, sweetheart, what do you say?" Jerome turned to Isabelle and squeezed her hand.

"Kate made the Rockport what it is. I trust her completely. Let's do it."

"All right, we're in. I wish all my business deals could be this easy." Jerome sat back and lit a cigar as the last of the dishes were cleared.

"Kate," Rafe nervously drawled, and Jerome and Izzy smiled in encouragement. 

"Yes?"

"The wedding is next week, and I was wondering if, well, you'd like to make it a double wedding."

Kate felt her heart skip a beat. "What?!" She didn't mean to shout and grabbed his hand to cover her nerves. "I mean, it's only a week away."

"I'm sorry Rafe, but Kate, Jerome and Rafe and I have discussed this. We've made preparations, all you have to do is say yes."

Kate arrowed her eyes at her best friend and sighed. "Rafe, is this what you want?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't. But what do you want, Kate?"

"All right, let's get hitched right and proper."

Rafe let out a yell of joy and kissed her soundly over cheers. Throats cleared when the kiss went on a bit long, and they came apart to see Dan, Finn, and Robert standing there grinning like madmen.

"So it's a party we're havin'?" Robert asked genially.

"Hell yes!" Kate said, laughing. And then it hit her; she had a family of her own making, goal for her future, and the man she loved at her side. Life wasn't so bad after all. She still had to stop by Chicago and make sure MacMasters got a fitting punishment, but there was a feeling in her hart that nothing could stop her now.

None of them in their toasts noticed the pair of eyes peering in through the bushes, and watching them. None of them heard the whispered promise of death.



Kate the Kid Ch. 14



The day dawned brightly for the end of summer. In the rainbow colors of the leaves there was promise there in Boston, but everyone in their party knew they'd be headed back west and had to move before passes got snowed in.

Still there was a deep sense of excitement. Spotted Horse and his wife, Dan's sister, had shown up to join them, and Robert, despite being a citified lawman, fit right into the group. There was even talk of him leaving his post in Boston to come join their new venture out of Chicago.

Above that was the excitement of four people. Izzy had overseen Kate's gown without her permission, using the measurements Jerome had insisted be taken before they left for Europe. It was simple, it was white, it was elegant, but there were two considerations that made Kate grin. The skirt look like a skirt but was actually two wide legs, so she could run if she had to, and the bodice did not require and awful corset. She had grown to loathe those things and even bustles, a contraption Izzy adored.

Izzy's gown was as deeply cut as Kate's, a similar narrow column from the front, a more dramatic sweeping trail in back. Their hair had been expertly washed, smoothed, curled, teased, smoothed again, and set. 

They sat for a photograph together, two brides giggling s much their image was blurred, but clearly a happy one.

Minutes before they were to escort each other down the aisle, a knock came at the door. "Come in," Kate called.

"No husbands allowed!" Izzy chimed in, giggling.

The door opened and there stood Finn and Dan, dressed in somber black suits, flowers in the lapels, their hair clubbed back and smooth, their cheeks freshly shaved. They looked almost respectable. The four friends just stared at one another until finally Dan broke the spell and walked over to gather both women in a hug.

"I am so happy for you. Gives me hope two confirmed bachelors like Finn and myself might have a chance."

"Of course you do," Izzy said a broad smile.

"Just pace yerself, fellas, there's only so many maids Jerome employs," Kate cracked wise. 

Dan went to ruffle her hair but stopped. "Christ in a cornfield, it's like you ain't the Kid no more. You're Kate. Kate..."

At the shadow that passed over her face, Finn finally stepped forward. "MacNeil, as of today. Kate MacNeil. Kate, may I have a private word with you?"

"All right." Kate looked at her other two friends nervously but both just smiled. As she followed Finn behind a screen she heard Dan take a deep breath behind her and pose a question to which Izzy squealed in delight. "What's this all about?"

"Dan and me were talking, and we spoke with your husbands to be and they gave us our blessing. Spotted Horse and Rose are sitting where your family would, and Dan and I will take the grooms' side. But first we want to walk you down the aisle."

Kate's heart swelled and she hugged her friend. "Finn, that's wonderful!"

"Well, it's only right I give you away. I loved you first, but I'm no fool. It made me do some damn foolish things, and I know now I could never love you best, but your man can."

She looked at him, so handsome. His eyes were bright, his hair dark, similar coloring to Rafe, but his skin was Irish pale and his bones long and almost elegant. He was actually quite striking and she knew from their travels that half of the women who saw him feel in love. Finn was just going to have to open his eyes to the possibilities.

"Finn, I'll always love you as my brother. And there's no one I would rather have give me away." She hugged him then, not the usual bear hug of greeting but a forlorn oe of friendship. Finn closed his eyes, knowing this was the only chance he'd get to feel her in his arms.

"Kate, I'm so damn sorry about dragging you to Chicago. I meant to be all nice but then I saw you and Rafe, the way you looked at each other, and I got mean. I am so damn sorry."

She pulled back and saw tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, and she delicately reached up to wipe them away. "Finn, I can't say I'm not mad, but I've forgiven you. I'll forget some day, but I have forgiven you. You'll have to be satisfied with that."

He nodded and stood, holding a hand to her. They smoothed their clothes, laughed nervously, and joined Izzy and Dan, holding the bouquets. Dan passed Kate hers.

"Shall we?"

Izzy quick like a fox kissed Kate on the cheek. "Here's to the greatest adventure yet to come."

***

Rafe was in a daze. After Faith had died, his life had changed. Alone in the world, hungering for revenge against a government that was his own, he felt like he'd been tilting at windmills. Turning his anger to outlaws it had been something to keep him busy, but life had been empty for him.

And then a gun fighting, redheaded firebrand had come into his life and turned it upside down. Now he had friends, real true friends, and place to belong. At Kate's side was good enough for him, he thought with a smile.

In his arms Kate moved gracefully, missing a few steps here and there, but following his movements. Fait had made him cultured, made him learn dancing and all manner of useless nonsense, and finally he was glad.

"I love you, Mrs. MacNeil."

She stopped and stood on her toes to kiss him softly. "I love you too, Rafe, and I sure as hell ain't gonna call you mister."

He grinned wider. "That's my girl. I know we've been busy preparing for the wedding all week and we've hardly gotten a minute alone. What's say we sneak off?"

"I would kill to get out of this silly dress and ridiculous shoes."

"As my lady commands," he smiled at her and Kate's body warmed at the sensual promise.

"Stay here for a few minutes, dance with Spotted Horse, he's heading this way. Come and find me in our room in five minutes."

"Can do," Kate said, beaming at him, her own light gaze glowing with sensuality.

His heart, and admittedly things lower, warmed and swelled.

Rafe moved on air, smiling. On impulse he grabbed a bottle of champagne and two glasses from the bar and snuck out a side door from the ballroom, hading for the back stairs and the room Jerome had given them, but only for after the marriage.

He trotted up the stairs humming an old tune from the bayou, smiling and skipping, feeling like the grandest man on earth.

Suddenly the champagne bottle exploded in his hand. Rafe stopped, skidding on the red carpet on the landing, dumbstruck. Then another shot rang out and the window exploded. He crumpled to the ground, still dumbfounded, and then he saw the blood coming from his upper arm.

Instinct kicked in and he tossed the glasses, and rolled to the wall. He had no gun, damn it, he was dressed in a fine evening suit for his wedding, not for a gun fight. The shots kept coming but he ignored them , checking his arm. It had just grazed him and would hurt like hell, but otherwise be fine as long as he cleaned it and bandaged it.

If he ran up the second flight he'd be a target, downstairs as clear, but Rafe had had enough shootouts in gullies to know when he was being herded. The shots were small, .22, a caliber one didn't see much in the city except in small pistols and the marksmanship her suggested a rifle.

Well hell, he'd been hit by a .22 enough times to know it hurt but didn't do any real damage. On that thought he made it to his feet and dashed up the stairs during the brief pause which he assumed was owed to reloading.

A vase shattered over his shoulder as he dove and rolled in the bright hallway. It was broad daylight, only a madman would attempt this. Still, the shots and explosions hadn't brought anyone, the wedding was so loud and raucous.

"Jerome! Dan! Finn!" He yelled as more shots came. He volleyed the names three times before the door opened.

"Rafe?"

"Stay down there, rifle, twenty-two, through the window. I have no gun."

"Shit nobody does," Finn swore. "Jerome made us lock 'em away."

"I thought there was no more threat, what with MacMasters in jail and Franco dead. Perhaps this is just someone who wants to kill Rafe," Jerome aid with surprisingly calm nerves. "I'd get our guns but they're upstairs in my safe."

"Damn fools, yer leavin; my husband up there alone?" Kate came storming in. "I had a feeling something like this was going to happen." She reached under her skirt and from the area of the fake bustle, folds of cloth, she drew her .44 Army issue Scoffield. "Who am I looking for?"

"I have no idea. And sweetheart?"

"Yeah?"

"Toss me your gun."

She stared up at the spot his voice came from, hidden from view as Rafe was. "No way in hell, buddy."

"Damn it, Kate!"

She grinned at her friends and pulled two pins from her hair. Juggling her gun she swiftly stuck them so they pulled the legs of her "skirt" tight. She kicked off her shoes and nodded to Jerome.

"I'll flush 'em out or provide cover. When you hear me shooting, make a run for it. You and Rafe can get the guns and hopefully by then I'll have this shooter."

"I'm sorry this had to happen on your wedding day," he offered.

She grinned at him and Izzy. "Hell, I ain't." And with that, Kate loped outside.

***

Inside she heard the party being contained in the ballroom, which was good. All the people of Boston seemed to be tenderfoots of the greenest horns, and worryin' about them was far more of a distraction.

So was the damn dress, but when Kate thought back to Rafe's expression when he'd first seen it, all the boning and stiff fabric was well worth it.

The houses on the hill were pressed close to one another so she scanned windows and doorways of neighbors first. None seemed like a good sniper's nest, so that meant the critter she was after was in the trees.

The shots had stopped, perhaps the shooter had seen her leave, or he was reloading. Silently.

She pulled a strip off her skirt and pressed herself to a corner. When the breeze stirred, she let it go, floating out. A crack rang out and a bullet whizzed past.

She checked her ammo and said under her breath, "fuck it." Putting her gun around she got off three shots before looking.

The returns fire scattered, so a bullet had come close. After the next shot, which winged the bricks above her head, she found the shooter's perch in a tree.

She came out, gun blazing, shooting with precise, measure, but fast action. "Jerome, now!" she yelled through the broken window and crept forward.

At long last she heard metal and a rifle dropped from the trees, but no body followed. A part of her was relieved, she'd never had to kill anyone yet, but another part was annoyed, wondering how many men and how many weapons were up there.

Se held her piece but then another shot cracked off and she unloaded all her bullets. Explosions from the window came, the sound of a rifle and a volley of hand guns.

When the puffs of smoke cleared there were two bodies, one hanging from the tree limb, the other on the ground. They were dressed like Easterners and didn't look familiar.

"They're dead!" She called out.

"Hang loose, Kate," Dan responded.

She came over, gun still on the bodies though her ammo was gone. If they were alive, they might not know that, and this trick had saved her life more than a few times.

She kicked the one on the ground but he was really truly dead. She jerked her gun up to the one in the tree but his dead eyes gave the tell-tale glassy stare of the departed.

She started going through the pockets of the one on the ground. She found a wallet with a few paper dollars in it and a pay stub signed by a Whittaker. The name rang a distant bell but she shoved it aside.

There was nothing else on the first one except an open pocket watch engraved with the initials NT. The one from the tree was too high for her to reach so she stood back.

Rafe was the first around the corner and he looked killing mad. She saw the wound on his arm and knew her expression likely darkened.

"You damn, dumb fool!" she yelled, and that stopped him short.

"Me? You're the one who came out here shooting at assassins on her wedding day, in a damned gown! I am not a fool, you are!"

She fought the urge to spit and just glared at him as the others caught up.

Rafe cursed and then he was kissing her, hard. Anger was in every line of his body but it flowed quickly to another kind of a passion that left them breathless when he pulled back.

Finn was looking over the man on the ground while Jerome and Dan pulled the one from the tree down.

"That one's initials are NT and he had a pay stub from somebody named Whittaker."

Jerome paused. "Shit. Dan, let's find whatever we can on this one. Izzy?"

Izzy rushed to his side. "What does this mean? I thought Jane diappeared."

"She did, but doesn't mean her father wouldn't have a grudge. It just makes no sense to kill me."

"Well perhaps they were shooting at Rafe on purpose," Dan suggested, turning the dead man over and searching carefully.

"Doubt it," Rafe said, hugging Kate tight. "It was purely by chance I was passing by those windows."

Finn rocked back on his heels, considering. "They could have been early, laying in wait. Eventually the first people up those stairs would be the two wedded couples."

"And this one here has a note to shoot at the tall brunette groom." Dan grinned at that. "'Bout as specific as saying squash a black ant at a picnic."

"What does this mean?" Izzy asked her new husband.

"Anything else, Dan?"

"Some lira. Interesting that these eastern boys should have Italian money." Dan said this darkly , making Izzy gasp.

Jerome held her tighter. "I was afraid of this. Whittaker has no reason to want me dead, or he didn't. Franco did. Franco always was a weasel, of course he'd partner up with Whittaker. How that Izzy has sole control of her company Whittaker might bass-ackwards assume I have it."

"Revenge or plotting, I don't know, but I think we'd best get inside. Finn, Dan, hate to ask this, but can you take care of things?" Kate asked.

"Too many witnesses, we'll have to go through the police. Robert's inside, he can help."

"Thank you," Rafe said. "Now I need to get some stitches, and I do believe that duty falls to my wife."

Kate snorted. "Only because you stitch like a drunk woman. Come on."

"I think it's best we follow. We're entitled to disappear." Jerome kissed Izzy on top of her head.

She looked up at him. "Won't the guests miss us?"

"They have music, dancing, food, and more booze than an druggists' convention. They'll hardly notice."

"Then by all means..." She gave him a smile and they followed the other bride and groom back inside.

***

As soon as they got in the room Rafe slammed Kate back against the closed door. "I thought I'd lost you, woman."

"I thought I'd lost you. Now shut up 'n' kiss me, Rafe."

He did, fiercely and possessively. His lips slanted across hers and Kate eagerly parted them, letting him sink inside. The man seemed bund and determined to have it his way, and she was more than happy to let him. The sight of him bloodied had shaken her to her core and she needed to feel his strength.

His hands were all over, hers on him, but both were clothed over their bodies, only their faces and hands were out. With a growl, Rafe grabbed her skirt and rugged. It ripped off and Kate stepped from awkwardly, pressed as she was between the cool door and his hot, hard body.

His hands felt her stockings and the fussy underwear Izzy had made her wear and he groaned. "Sweetheart," he laid his lips to her forehead. With that endearment he tore her pantaloons, grabbed her by the waist, and hauled her up.

Kate herself knew what he was after and her hands, when not scrambling to steady herself, sought out his pants. Rafe was single minded, and as his teeth nipped her in a searing kiss to her neck he batted her hands away. Rafe freed himself and as they clutched at one another, he thrust into her.

Kate hadn't been prepared but in its own way, the sensation was delicious. He filled her, the heat of his body surrounded her, even through all the cloth. His lips sought hers out and they stayed locked for a long minute.

"I love you," he pulled back to whisper.

"And I- oh!" Her eyes widened as he pulled back out and sank in almost violently.

He repeated the action and she caught his lips against hers, crying out at the slowly spreading feeling of deep pleasure that contrasted the fast and furious movements of Rafe's hips.

"Damn it," he breathed, confusing her.

His body stopped leaving her panting against him. "Damn it, man, move or I'll die!"

"Not yet, sweetheart," he groaned and ripped open the bodice of her dress. Tugging with only one hand, the other supporting her weight, he released the dusky rose tips of her breasts and ducked his head down.

Kate threw her head back at the cool brush of his breath and the searing heat of his mouth as he enveloped her. She writhed in vain, trying to move him, to bring back the deeper pleasure, but Rafe stayed her with his rock hard stance.

He teased, cajoled, and seduced her with his clever tongue and she was ready to grab him by the hair and drag him to bed. At long last Rafe seemed to come up from his sensual haze and again she felt him moving.

His hand coasted down to slip between them, and the pad of his thumb hit the sensitive nubbin of flesh. It was too much when his kiss slid down her neck, over her chest, to claim a nipple. His body rocked hers, filling her deep, pulling forth a hunger and pushing in satisfaction.

The sensations crashed and she screamed out his name on a long wailing cry stopped only by a hasty kiss. Before the spasms subsided Rafe was shouting his own release, and Kate eagerly drank it from him.

When the storm passed Kate slid down onto shaky legs, laughing. "Seems we're just not meant to do it live two civilized people."

"Woman, I've had civilized, I want you." He bent down and the kiss he gave her took her breath.

It was then she noticed the blooding seeping out over his dark coat. "Rafe! Take off your jacket and shirt and let me see you."

"A bit late for that, isn't it?"

She glared and marched over to the robe waiting on the bed for her. Wrapping herself in it she crossed to her bags where she found the small kit. Rafe pulled his coat and dress shirt off, leaving the white undershirt on. In the dimming light o the day he was still every inch as beautiful as the first time she saw him.

"Let's get you sown up."

"I knew there were advantages to having a wife."

She raised a red brow. "I don't mend shirts, I don't cook except on the range, so don't be getting ideas."

"Why don't you cook off the range?"

"We got us a chef at the Rockport, French and everything, mighty good."

"I have a heard time imagining you running a hotel- ow!"

She smiled but kissed his skin. "Almost done. And I don't do much, just tally the ledgers, keep any rough customers out, and calm Izzy when she's panicking over something."

"Kate, have you thought about how your life will change? Not just you and I, not just Jerome and Izzy, but your mother's money, this new shipping and transport venture."

"Rafe, one thing at a time. The best lesson any of us gunfighters can ever learn is one fight at a time."

She cut off the thread and he grabbed her hands. Not the soft delicate things of most women he knew they were callused and strong. And they felt so damn good on his body that was all he could think of.

Somehow Kate knew his hungry kiss meant "I love you," and this time it was she who whispered it against his lips. Even as they took a tumble into ecstasy Kate felt in the back of her mind, her words were only too true. One gunfight at a time, and the next shooter was due.



Kate the Kid Ch. 15



In their own room, Izzy and Jerome made their escape. Below Dan and Finn would see to everything and soon enough the police would be wanting Jerome, so they took advantage.

As soon as he closed the door of his magnificent master bedroom they were kissing, stumbling, yanking their clothes free. When they made it to the bed he still had his pants on, open, and her dress was peeled from her chest but the skirt and heavy bustle were on.

Laughing they gave up and Jerome fell to the bed, Izzy jumping and landing on top. He drew her hair free from its pinnings and the dark silken curls flowed over his hands as they kissed.

"Sweetheart," he groaned and pulled her small weight up. She gasped as he settled her over his face and began to lick. She was hot and wet, and soon when his long licks became teasingly fast swipes, Izzy was grinding into him, gasping and begging. He began to suckle at her clit and she was screaming, shivering sweetly on him.

After long moments, she pulled back and scrambled to plant herself onto him, so hot and tight and ready to take his entire hard length. They groaned but did not keep still once he speared her, becoming a fast moving tangle of hands and lips. He raised himself onto his elbows to kiss her breasts and she began to grind her body, riding him like a horse.

Izzy's face was twisted in pleasure, her gasps hard and fast pants that matched his own and his heart swelled. Jerome knew he needed this freedom with his sweet wife and in that instant he made a decision to end the violence and struggled.

He grabbed her hips and dragged her across him, sucking the sweet rosy tips of her breasts with great force. Her breath broke and he felt her tighten just as he did.

The pleasure swirled and claimed them both with harsh shouts. She instinctively thrust and his seed spilled deep into her, both of them clutching the other with bruising grips.

When it ended they collapsed into bliss, rolling to their sides awkwardly with her bustle still attached. He laughed. "It figures that once you became my wife I would take you like an animalistic youth."

"It matters not. We have a lifetime to take each other however we wish, whenever we wish. Finally, you are my husband and it is almost over."

He raised himself on an elbow and kissed her softly. "Almost. I just need to have a word with Whittaker and he'll leave us alone."

"Why would he do that when he tried to kill you?"

"I have a plan, the fastest way to peace for us all, though it might mean a change in the plans we discussed."

"When did you decide this?" she stretched.

"When I realized I was making love to my wife for the first time and I wanted the whole world to disappear. When I realized I had to make swift action so our peaceful future could begins, just as it will for Kate and Rafe when McMasters hangs."

"So what is your plan, my love?" She kissed his shoulder.

"I think it's time to restart. No more guns, killing, any of it. I will simply show Whittaker the evidence from today and tell him I will turn it over to the police unless he leaves us alone."

"Will that work?"

"If not, between your money, mine, and Kate's we can buy him out five times over."

She laughed and there came a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Izzy called with a sigh, already drawing up to fix her dress.

"It's Finn. The police need Jerome. I'm sorry."

Jerome stood and helped her up. "You stay here and hold this," he handed her the lira and paystub. "A few more loose ends and we'll all be ready to leave."

She kissed him. "I hope so."

***

Whitaker's office was dark. It sat at the top of a large building that was a warehouse for the shipping company, much smaller than the New York office it was close to Beacon Hill.

Jerome had let the police cart off the men with no ID and none of the evidence Kate had pulled from them. Robert Finnegan intervened to hush things up but leave it open that if Whittaker didn't agree he would be arrested.

Spotted Horse and Dan Forth were off finding Jane Whittaker just in case as well, and it was Robert Finnegan who rode over with Jerome.

It was end of business three days past the wedding. They had seen Kate and Rafe off early that morning, heading for Chicago to catch the end of McMasters' trial and close that chapter in their lives.

Jerome had made an appointment and signed in as Robert briefed the two uniformed cops at the corner. He'd follow.

Jerome was shown into a dark-paneled office much like his own. Whittaker, a man of average height and spreading middle-aged girth that spoke of a lifetime of idleness of body was drawn, his skin as pale as his white hair, his blue eyes bloodshot.

"What is it you want, Williams?"

Jerome glanced at his pocket watch. He had two minutes before Robert would be in place outside the door, and he had to stall.

"I was wired this afternoon by a friend. Your daughter is safe and married, living in Washington D.C. now."

Whittaker grumbled. "You're only saying that."

Jerome sat in a chair and pulled Dan's cable out, laying it on the desk. "I'm sure you know I am married as well. There is no hope for a merger between us but there may be peace."

Whittaker read the missive and crumpled it into a ball. "Lies. My daughter would never do that. This is all an excuse so you could marry that Italian whore and take control of her company."

Jerome stood, towering over the other man. "If you call my wife a name like that again, there is no force on earth that will stop me from dismantling your company one brick and plank at a time until you are a broken insect I crush beneath my boot heel, is that understood?"

"It's the truth! She is a whore, trying to seduce her brother then running from him to you."

It was time; Robert was in place.

"Is that what you think? She escaped her brother's advances, kept her company going, and opened her own business in San Francisco. That woman is more brave and courageous and strong than any you've ever dreamed of. She still has control of her company, I had papers drawn up that I would never control it without her consent."

Whittaker turned red. "Lies!"

"Did you think it was me? That if you killed me perhaps you could woo my widow? Is that why you sent those two assassins to my wedding?"

"I did no such thing!"

Jerome pulled out the lira and paystub. "You were working with Franco Vercelli, weren't you? You sent them after us but we took passage to Europe. They followed us but didn't catch up until the wedding. Admit it!"

Whittaker narrowed his bloodshot eyes. "Vercelli wanted you dead but I paid them off. They were to kill your wife. You will marry Jane and follow through on our deal one way or another."

"You hired them to kill my wife!?!"

"Of course I did!" Whittaker shouted. "We had a deal! We had a deal and when you chose that Italian whore over my pure daughter you turned your back on it. It's only fair you should suffer!"

Jerome saw red and decided the offer was off the table. "Robert!" he yelled and the doors burst open.

"What is this!?!" Whittaker yelled even as Robert pulled irons out and clapped them on his wrists.

"You're under arrest," Robert said and hauled Whittaker to the window. He pulled out a whistle and blew it. When he finished searching the man's pockets the uniformed officers arrived.

"I'm going to summon Jane here. In one week you'll be facing the hangman for your crimes, and I will have the board turn over control of your company to Jane. She and her husband are broke, and I'll give her a fair price for control."

"No! You can't do this!" Whittaker struggled.

"On the desk is evidence," Jerome said coolly to Robert who nodded and pointed out the lira and stub sitting next to a wallet marked with initials on the desk.

Jerome strode out as a police wagon pulled up to take Whittaker away. To his shock Izzy stood there, watching it all.

"It's done?"

He hugged her tight. "I have to cable an offer to Jane Whittaker and schedule a meeting with the board of Whittaker shipping. We'll have this settled and can meet with Kate and Rafe in one week. It's almost over."

She stretched on her tiptoes and he bent down, kissing her deeply.

"I hope so, my love. We've all had quite an adventure and deserve some peace. Particularly Kate."

"She'll have her own demons to slay, one last one. I want to wait until tomorrow when things are certain and I'll cable the depot in Chicago."

"I love you."

"And I love you, Isabella Williams."

They climbed into his coach and made furious love as they were driven to a cable office, the promise of the future bright on their tongues.

***

Kate and Rafe stepped off the train and headed immediately to the nearest cable office with Finn in tow. It had stuck in their craws both to leave Izzy and Jerome with only Dan, Spotted horse, and Robert as backup but they had faith his plan would work. 

If Whittaker listened to reason they could all go forth with the plan as decided. If he didn't, Jerome would have him arrested and they'd all together buy out Whittaker.

Making such large decisions still seemed like a fantasy to her, and she knew Rafe felt the same way. They had grown up poor, been cut into adulthood on the trails, a man and woman most comfortable on the back of a horse with a gun at their side.

Still Kate knew watching the end of the trial of McMasters would be difficult, as would be watching him hang. Having Finn and her husband was a boon, but she still wished she had Izzy with her for the ordeal.

They hit the office and Finn was as anxious as them to read the results. The cable told them they were going to be the new proud co-owners of Whittaker shipping, and they were to remain in Chicago until Jerome and Izzy joined them.

"We need a drink," Kate said with a shaky laugh, half her worries evaporated.

"We need to find out about McMasters," Rafe said with a sigh, gripping her hand and smiling wanly knowing the hardest part was still ahead for his sweet wife.

"Why don't I get us a hotel and cable Jerome?" Finn asked. He smiled at Kate. "I'll be sure to get some whiskey too."

"At this rate I'd try laudanum," Kate muttered, shivering.

"Sounds good, Finn. Now sweetie should we get your horse first or hail a carriage to the court house?" He knew she wouldn't want to wait much longer and truthfully neither did he.

They stepped outside the office onto the bustling street and Kate sighed, pulling the brim of her hat down. "I wish McMasters would just disappear. I wish he was gone and our path was cleared."

A man dressed in the practical-yet-fine clothes of a teacher stopped in front of them, chewing on his pipe. "McMasters? You folks just arrive?"

"Yes we did," Rafe said, putting his arm around Kate and ignoring the man's quizzical stare at his wife in a blouse and jeans.

"You didn't hear then. Someone smuggled a pistol into the jail and the man shot himself before the end of the trial. Happened a week ago. Guess he knew he was destined for the hangman."

Kate was so shocked she swayed against Rafe and he caught her. Finn thanked the man and helped her stand upright, whistling. "Well, ain't that a shock to the system."

"It's done," Kate whispered. "It's truly done. I'm free, Rafe, free of it all!" She hugged him tight.

He didn't say anything, just held her as it sank in there were no more demons, no more shooters lined up. They were in fact all free.

Suddenly he whooped and swung Kate around, almost hitting Finn. "Sweetheart, this means we can have a real honeymoon. It'll take at least a week for them to get here."

Finn sighed laboriously. "I'll find a way to keep busy."

A woman in a bright yellow dress with long brown hair walked past with the sure confident smile of an older woman and he returned her grin. "In fact, I'll catch y'all later."

That week passed for Kate and Rafe in bed, and as much as he hated to say it, her money was a nice thing to have when he discovered room service. 

One week turned into two when Izzy and Jerome came and sequestered themselves in their own for a week. Left to their own devices, Finn found himself courting the widow Mrs. Chesterfield and Dan found himself learning to read ledgers. Spotted Horse and his own wife joined them for dinners and Mrs. Emily chesterfield became part of the circle.

When they all emerged Jerome helped Kate settle her father's assets as well as the last of her mother's. All three shipping companies would become Williams-MacNeil shipping with offices in Italy, England, Boston, New York and San Francisco.

Dan, under the tutelage of Jerome, learned the ropes and decided to head up the British office, with Izzy's CEO in Rome, and a member of the former Whittaker organization that Jerome trusted in New York. Finn's new woman it turned out had a wonderful head for business, and they decided to marry and settle in Chicago.

Kate and Izzy decided to share the Rockport, but in practicality she too had to learn to master her new business. When she did, she and Jerome would share responsibilities, spending six months in Frisco and six in Boston alternating, with their spouses.

Spotted Horse and his wife opened an office in Portland and helped Williams-MacNeil grow into a land shipping empire in the states. There in a wild but civilized territory they started a family and though their years were spent in bliss their children did have to use their new family money to fight the racism directed half breeds, but their line flourished and grew in love.

Finn married Emily Chesterfield and learned he had almost as good a head for numbers as he had for trouble. Their children were plentiful and they settled to the far south of the city with other Irish immigrants. The Finnegan line was long, and in every generation there was a tall, dark haired man with blue eyes, a penchant for trouble, and the moniker Finn.

Izzy and Jerome never had children but with their busy lives they never felt a hole. They had plenty of Godchildren to help raise at the Rockport Inn and their love remained strong for the rest of their lives.

Kate and Rafe never fully adjusted to civilized life, nor did they have to. For a few years they spent much of their time at the Rockport sneaking away to the trails even as the west was swallowed up by civilization. In Boston they befriended Robert Finnegan who eventually became the head of security for the company.

Robert married a young woman with red hair that reminded him of another firebrand both he and his brother loved, and he too had a brood of children with good looks and appetites for adventure.

Quiet Dan Forth became a legendary bachelor in London, much sought after, settling down only in his later years with the widow of a Viscount, marrying twenty years after he had taken his post.

At the wedding he was reunited with his friends, their spouses, and even some of their children. In twenty years all had remained healthy, wealthy, and loved, still the best of friends. Everyone fell in love with Kate's youngest, a quiet ten year old girl with red hair, violet eyes, and her mother's sense of freedom.

Kate and Rafe did have that whole passel of kids, and loved them fiercely. Kate surprised herself, adjusting to the life, but thankfully was able to always keep a sense of freedom with Jerome and Izzy parenting the children as much as she and Rafe did.

Everyday was an adventure for them all. None of them felt it was easy, nor would any of them have wanted it that way.

As the century closed and the states spread, their fortunes grew, but it was the happiness in freedom, friendship, and family that made every day a happy one.

One day when Kate's youngest, named Katherine for her grandmother, was still a dreamy adolescent her father took her for a ride outside of town and told her the impossible story of her mother, when she was known as Kate the Kid.

 

******

Author's Note:

This is the end of this particular story, but not the last about these friends. Many of you will note this tells the tale of the ancestor of Michael Finnegan from my Marly Jackson stories. (if you look carefully you will see that no matter what the setting of my stories there is always one link to another. Happy hunting!)

Some day the unpublished (currently unfinished) tale of Spotted Horse and his wife will be shared here, which shows the beginnings of the gang and tells the tale of how Izzy met and began to tame Kate.

Some distant day, the story of the next Katherine, a strong-willed woman at the head of an empire will be written.

I hope you enjoyed this gang as much much as I enjoy writing about them. 



Kate the Kid



"C'mon Sweet, enough teasin' of those mares," she nickered and they were off. Her spurs were up, she wore them for show, and never ever dug them into horseflesh. She found the practice barbaric but as long as she wore them, nobody asked questions. Plus Sweet knew that if anybody spurred him he was to buck.

Damn good horse, she thought. They rode to the telegram office and she tethered him out front, making sure to show her gun. Anybody eyeing her mount looked away quickly at the sight of her customized Remington .44 Army model. Her other gun was a Smith and Wesson .45. She'd bought it after Jesse James himself recommended it.

She sent a telegram off to Isabella that she was going to Chicago and staying at her usual hotel. Any messages Isabella replied with would await her there.

She bought some supplies at the Buford's next door and then she was off. It would be a good three days of hard riding to get to Chicago but she knew it like the back of her hand. It was never the ride there that worried her, it was what awaited her there. Every damn time she set foot back into the country something awful happened.

It was just fate.

#

"I said no, damnit." Rafe MacNeil put a booted foot up on his friend's desk and lit a cheroot. 

"Aw, c'mon, you're headed that way anyways. I know you took the bounty on that little wild one." Jerome Williams wasn't begging, his tone was dangerous.

"Who told you that?" Rafe waved out the match and tossed it on the little metal tray on the desk's corner.

"A friend."

"You've been talking to that damned Pinkerton again, Jerome. Why don't you hire one of those guys to accompany you?" Jerome Williams was sitting in his house on Beacon Hill in Boston. The very next day he was boarding a train bound for St Louis, heading for his future wife. Jerome was a big man, tall, broad, gym muscled, but he'd never been in the west, and it was all horseback from St. Louis to San Francisco.

He was trying to rope Rafe into babysitting him.

Jerome chuckled. "You know they charge too damn much, besides, they're not bodyguards, you know."

"Neither am I," Rafe gritted out. He'd only come into town for the funeral of a mutual friend and had no interest in venturing to the west. He was wandering now, unsure of just where to go. He'd never been further than Amarillo himself, but he knew how to survive. It was what Rafe did best.

"Come on, what else are you going to do? I'll pay you well." Jerome poured himself a glass of brandy and offered one to Rafe. Rafe waved it off.

It was true, though he didn't want Jerome to realize it. The war had just ended. His beloved South was in ruins, a way of life dead and gone forever. He'd never believed slavery was right, but he was still bitter. Bitter that a compromise couldn't be reached, that cooler heads had never prevailed. No, a country had been torn apart instead, lives lost.

His own wife had died two years before the war began, when a wave of malaria hit New Orleans and she hadn't made it out of the city in time. Rafe, the bastard child of a whore, had stayed on after her death. His delicate wife, Faith, had a loving family who welcomed him with open arms. He'd stayed with her parents and brother on their plantation house until the Butler occupation came. Because of the general order number 52 Faith's mother was arrested and raped in jail. Defending her honor her husband had been shot by a Union army man.

Faith's brother had lost it all, his life plunged into poverty which he'd worn like a badge of honor. Afterwards Rafe had gone west to Texas, Andre had gone to Boston. It was his funeral they'd just returned from.

So Jerome was right. No, he had nowhere to go. Just Texas to roam he supposed.

"I'm goin' to St Louis, I'll ride the damn rails with you. But I ain't promisin' more than that. And I haven't agreed to track this Kid down, just look into it for a friend."

"Which friend?" Jerome asked this conversationally.

"MacMasters."

"Oh, shit, Rafe. MacMasters? That man is a ball breaker, you don't do jobs for money, you do jobs if you owe him."

"So what if I do, Jerome? What business is it of yours?"

Jerome Williams was a businessman. He wore bowler hats, pinstriped vests, and a solid gold watch fob. His shoes were polished to high shine and he knew every move to every fancy dance Boston was currently in favor of. Few people knew he worked the hard line. In business he was fair but ruthless. He gave every bit as good as he got and if you were on his good side, Jerome was a blessing. If you were on his bad, well, best not to think about it.

Though many knew his cold vengeance, few knew his hot temper. Rafe was getting it full force now.

"You absolute idiot! He'll kill you, I don't care how good you are, you damn dumb so-called gentleman gunfighter! He'll kill you in your sleep, he'll send a whole contingent of men after you, if you so much as cross him, or he wakes on the wrong side of the bed."

Rafe's voice came out low and guttural, a warning. "MacMasters says he knows who killed Andre."

That took some of the wind out of Jerome's sails and he sat back in his leather covered chair. A second later his glass was hurled into the fire making the embers shoot up flames as if in commiseration. 

He turned back with a grim set to his lips. "Fine, what exactly does he want in exchange for this information?"

"The Kid. Says this 'Kid' stole a horse from him in Chicago about eight years back. MacMasters doesn't let any debt go unpaid. Kid escaped from jail and pops up every now and then, still uses the name. Worth about $7,000."

"Rafe, you wouldn't be thinking of turning him in for the bail and double crossing MacMasters, now would you?"

He narrowed his green eyes and tried to avoid lying. "I promise you I'll do no such thing until after I know who killed Andre."

"You damn dumb fool! MacMasters probably did it!"

Rafe was saved from answering by a knock at the door.

"Enter!"

"Sir," a little Irish maid ducked in, "the carriage is waiting for you. Yer bags are loaded."

"Thank you Shannon. MacNeil, are you all packed?"

"Loaded onto my saddle. Rented horse."

"Shannon would you have one of the stablehands transfer Mr. MacNeil's bags to my coach?"

"Certainly sir."

Jerome stood up and clasped his rough hands behind his back, facing the fire. "I need your help, Rafe."

This sobered the other man instantly. He removed his booted heel from the desk and sat up. "What's wrong, Jerome?"

"There are people not too happy that I'm moving operations to San Francisco, or why."

"The Whittakers?"

Jerome had been engaged in business arranged marriage to the daughter of George Whittaker Sr. Jane Whittaker was a social debutante of dubious reputation but Jerome was willing to marry her when Whittaker wouldn't sell him his holdings. Both men were magnates in the shipping business in Boston, but Whittaker was branching out into land transportation.

He'd bought up several small shipping companies had united them to form Western Land, in direct competition with Wells Fargo. Jerome had salivated to buy him out. By all accounts Whittaker would have sold, but a merger with Wlliams Shipping had been more important. Or, more close to reality, he wanted to marry off his slut of a daughter.

For the company, Jerome had been willing to settle. But then Isabella had come into his life. Rafe had heard tales of this miraculous woman who could make a man turn his back on millions of dollars. Jerome had met her on his tour of Europe when visiting friend and fellow shipper Benito Vercelli. He met Isabella as she had just married Benito.

Now Benito had died of the flu and Bella had come to America. Though a marriage to her would put Jerome in control of Vercelli Shipping, it was love that brought them together.

"It might be. There have been threats on my life, as well as that of kidnapping. They are delivered here in the mornings, unsigned, I haven't been able to trace them. They suggest that I leave my holdings here in Boston, not marry Isabella, and beg Jane Whittaker to take me back."

"Stupid idiots, I thought she'd run off."

"Her father says she has. I have no choice but to believe him. For all we know, she could be dead or in Canada by now." Jerome leaned against the mantle and sighed into the fire.

"I never meant to hurt her, Rafe."

Rafe snorted. "She wanted your money, your good name, her father wanted Williams Shipping. They were using you. She was probably fucking that butler all along."

"Still, I wonder why she ran."

"Freedom from her father, I suppose. A reputation as a wanton and some nobleman from England begging off marriage, then you, her reputation would never recover. Whittaker would probably whip her daily. Can I see these notes?"

Jerome turned back to the desk and slid out the top right drawer. From it he removed a parchment of old style vellum tied with a black ribbon.

"Vellum, that's odd. Old, expensive."

"Not easily found in America. My first instinct was Isabella's brother."

"Franco?"

Jerome nodded and half sat, half stood on the corner of his desk while Rafe leafed through the stack of vile words in pretty script.

"Franco is of course the heir to Benito's fortune as he and Isabella had no children. But Benito was a shrewd man. He left Franco in charge of the company, but its assets and profits belong solely to Isabella. And I have drawn up a contractual agreement that even if I marry Isabella she will always have control of the company, and it shall pass to her children, never to me."

"So what happens if Isabella has no children? Who gets it then, Jerome?"

"Franco, I suppose. Though I'll fight him through every court on every continent if I have to. I will, however, try very hard to make Isabella has all the children she wants." He attempted a wry smile and got a chuckle out of Rafe.

"You're a lucky man, Jerome. So Whittaker stands to gain your company, Franco stands to gain Isabella's, these are the players?"

"All I have to go on. Now all I ask is that you help me get to Isabella, and you know how much I loathe asking for help. Hell, Isabella promised me she'd send me her friend the Kid in St Louis, so you can leave me then if you like. And that is just a common name."

"Don't I know it. Jerome, I won't let you down. And I'll go you one better, I'll put off MacMaster's business until I find out who's after you."

"Thank you, Rafe. Now, shall we?"

Rafe stood and followed him out into the hall where maids waited with their coats. It was early spring and there was still a chill in the air. As he slipped his on over his gun belt he winked at Shannon, whom he'd gotten to know better on a previous visit.

Outside the weather was as grey as the sea just beyond sight. The air was salty and cool. Jerome had mentioned more than once he was happy to leave but Rafe had just gotten used to Boston. He was going to miss it.

"Lord I hate traveling. Just once I'd like to stay longer than a month in one spot."

"Some day," Jerome clapped him on the back and they strode to the carriage. "Some day, my friend."