Christie And The Hellcat Part 20

She glanced sidelong at Christie. "At least these quarters won't keep you and the deputy apart."

Christie was sure that even the tips of her ears must have turned pink. "Mm." She kept her voice neutral.

131.

Vesta laughed. "You must never be ashamed of what you and Deputy Brodie share, Miss Hayes. Love, wherever it is found, is to be cherished." She became melancholy again. "But I shall miss my Dan."

They reached Vesta's room, and she said goodnight, leaving a thoughtful Christie to proceed on alone.

In her own room, she poured cold water from the jug into the basin and washed herself. Then she pulled on her nightdress, climbed beneath the rough sheets, and dozed off. Some time later, she was dreaming of Zee, when the faint click of the door latch was followed by a sagging of the mattress. A warm, familiar presence snuggled up behind her, bringing with it the scent of tobacco, and whiskey, and Zee herself.

"You asleep, darlin'?" Hot breath tickled Christie's ear.

"Mm," she murmured, caught between sleep and wakefulness.

A hand fondled her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through her nightdress. "Still feeling sleepy?"

"Zee!" Every nerve in her body now tingling, Christie rolled over onto her back. "Not now I'm not."

She gazed up into eyes glinting in the moonlight, then the silhouetted head leaned closer and warm lips pressed against hers. She gave herself up to Zee's knowing caresses, whimpering as her nightdress was removed and tender spots were licked and sucked. Then she remembered the thinness of the part.i.tion separating their room from Vesta's.

"The noise, Zee."

"Pretend you're a coyote."

Christie struggled to free herself. "I'm serious. We mustn't."

The pleasurable sensations stopped and the pillow was whisked from under her head. She was wondering where it had gone when Zee presented it to her.

"Scream into this."

"What?" But then she could barely think as once more Zee's lips and strong fingers were moving over her, and a fierce trembling overtook her. "Oh, my Lord! Zee!"

Hastily she pressed the pillow to her mouth.

Chapter 6.

Zee finished up the salt pork and potatoes that const.i.tuted breakfast. Not quite up to the ham and eggs that Christie liked to cook for her whenever she got the chance, but not bad. She reached for her coffee and, as she drank, thought about the little blonde's needs.

Sharing the brothel kitchen with Angie's cook wasn't ideal. And sharing a tiny bedroom definitely wasn't the same as having a place of their own. Christie needed to be able to entertain friends when she felt like it (and that would include her stupid brother when he saw sense), and she couldn't ask respectable folk to a brothel.

Christie hadn't complained once, of course, but Zee wasn't blind.

Christie deserved more, and she was going to get it. Fortunately, the capture of the Cody Gang had netted Zee a tidy sum in reward money.

Enough to purchase the Cooper house.

Sure it needed a bit of renovation and decorationthat was why it was so cheapbut Angie and her girls had promised to help her take care of that. And the garden, if you could call it that . . . well.

Old Coop had worked hard on that vegetable plot, so Christie should have no trouble growing whatever she wanted.

Zee grinned, remembering their first meeting, when her horses had eaten Christie's flowers, and, their second, when Zee had presented her with a sack of bulbs. Christie seemed to bring out the p.u.s.s.ycat side of the h.e.l.lcat, and Zee was glad of it. Not that you'd know it from last night, she thought guiltily. She feared she had worn poor Christie out.

The dining room door opened and the Galvins came in with Colonel Gregg. Gregg's black eye had developed nicely during the night, and a reflective Zee flexed her knuckles. He blenched when he noticed her and chose a table as far from her as possible, to the 133.

English couple's evident chagrin.

Next to enter was Dusty. The stage's driver had matched Zee drink for drink but looked none the worse for it. He tipped his hat to her then took a seat and dug into his breakfast with a gusto that matched Christie at her hungriest. Moments later, having cleared his platter and gulped his coffee down, he was on his feet and heading for the door.

Christie appeared in the doorway, her gaze darting over the diners.

It settled on Zee, and a smile replaced the slight frown. Zee's heart swelled with affection and she watched Christie appreciatively as she made a beeline for her.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Christie took her seat opposite Zee.

"Thought you could use the rest."

"Very funny," grumbled Christie, but she brightened when the host's wife placed a breakfast platter in front of her. "Thank you."

For the next minute, Christie concentrated on shoveling down her salt pork and potatoes, then she paused, fork halfway to her lips, and said accusingly, "Your knuckles are skinned."

"Are they?" Zee's gaze wandered to where Gregg was wiping his lips on a napkin.

"Were you in a fight last night?"

She shrugged. "A minor disagreement."

"About me?"

"Your name might have come up."

Christie sighed. "Is it always going to be like this?"

"A pretty woman, a group of those who like pretty women, and plenty of whiskey? Yeah, I guess so."

Christie chuckled. "I love you."

"Me too." Zee reached across the table and took her hand.

At the next table, Mrs. Grummond was complaining to Annie about the racket the coyotes had made last night. Zee gave Christie a sly glance.

"You sound a bit hoa.r.s.e this morning, darlin'. Think you may be getting a head cold?" A sharp kick on the ankle was her reward for that impudence.

"Just you wait," muttered Christie.

"Promise, promises."

Then Dusty appeared in the dining room doorway and yelled, "Stage for Phoenix is ready to leave. All aboard."

134.

They followed him out into the early morning light where a fresh team of horses had been hitched to the stage, and the luggage, which the pa.s.sengers had piled there before going for their breakfasts, had been loaded into its boot.

Zee took her seat next to Christie, and then they were off. While the stage swayed and jolted toward Phoenix, Christie rested her head against Zee's shoulder and stared out of the window. Zee amused herself by watching her fellow pa.s.sengers out of the corner of her eye.

Bonney was snoring. Must be laudanum in that silver flask of his.

A regulation splint and bandage had replaced the corset that had so offended the fat banker. Zee wondered if he had returned the undergarment to its rightful, if rather unlikely, owner. The Galvins, meanwhile, were telling anecdotes about their life in England, much to Mrs. Grummond's disdain. Annie seemed to appreciate the amusing stories though. Her braying laughter was threatening to get on Zee's nerves and she took a deep breath.

"You all right?" murmured Christie.

"Sure." She forced a smile.

Gregg was busy too. Thwarted of Christie, the colonel had switched his attentions to the only other eligible woman available.

His flowery compliments made Annie blush and toss her head. It was all for show, though. Even while he was praising the girl his gaze kept straying to Christie's ankles or the curves that filled out her dress so nicely. Zee fought down the impulse to give him another black eye.

As for the black-garbed preachersince the rattler incident, he had avoided both Zee and Christie, and now he refused to meet her gaze. Being ignored by a bigot was one step up from being preached at, she decided, and she turned her gaze to the pa.s.sing landscape.

An hour into their journey, heavy clouds darkened the sky, and moments later came the pounding of rain on the roof. The noise woke a dozing Christie and she looked round, disoriented.

"Summer storm," said Zee. "Be over any minute." And indeed it was, leaving a welcome feeling of freshness behind, having damped down the ever-present dust.

She pulled out the pocket watch Molly had given her (funny how Christie's presence had eased the pain of Molly's death), and flicked open the case. Hmmm. Shouldn't be far now to the Gila River.

People said it was uncanny how the Gila Bandit knew when there 135.

was gold on the Tucson-Phoenix stage. But Zee knew from her own stage-robbing days that the supernatural had nothing to do with it.

Most likely, there was an inside man at Bonney's bank. She had a strong hunch that Bonney was carrying gold in his personal luggage, hoping to sneak it through unremarked. But if even one other person at his bank knew about it, then so would the Gila Bandit.

She thought about that for a while.

After the next rest stop, when the pa.s.sengers were about to retake their seats for the final stretch of their journey, Zee told Christie she would be traveling up on the box for a spell. Then she took Dusty to one side and told him her plan.

At first he was resistant. If the Bandit tried to ambush them, he argued, he'd rather go h.e.l.l for leather for the river. The horses were reasonably fresh . . . they could outdistance the Bandit.

Zee shook her head and showed him her tin star. "No. He ain't gone too far down the road to ruin yet, but he will. It's time to bring him in."

In her h.e.l.lcat days she'd had nightmares about gunning down some innocent bystander by mistake. She'd been caught and sent to Yuma before it came to that, though. It was the first piece of luck to come her way in quite a while, even if at the time it had seemed just the opposite.

Dusty shrugged. "All right, Deputy. You know best."

Zee only hoped he was right.

When all the pa.s.sengers were aboard and the doors shut, she slipped down from the box and round to the back of the stage, then crawled into the leather-covered boot.

GIF.

"Is that the Gila River?" asked Annie.

Christie followed the girl's pointing finger, expecting to see something spectacular but finding only the same old desert landscape.

Then she noticed the wavering line of trees and shrubs on the horizon and knew they could only exist near a water source. She leaned back in her seat and wondered how Zee was faring up on the box.

"I believe it is the river, my dear," said the preacher. "And once we cross, it should be plain sailing to Phoenix."

"What about the Gila Bandit?" continued an eager Annie. "Do you 136 think he'll attack us?" The girl seemed unaware she might be frightening her fellow pa.s.sengers; the banker, for one, had gone pale.

"No need to fear him while I'm on board, Miss Stenhouse."

Colonel Gregg patted the holster at his hip.

Just then, a volley of loud gunshots made everyone jump. The stage checked violently, throwing them forward in their seats.

"Whoa, boys," came Dusty's voice. "Whoa."

"What's going on?" asked Vesta as the stage slowed to a stop.

"I don't know." Christie strained to see out of the window. "Those shots sounded as though they came from nearby."

The door opened and a sheepish looking Dusty stood there.

"Nothing I could do, folks. He got the drop on me. You'd better get out nice and quiet now."

He stood back. Only then did Christie spy the gray horse and its hooded rider, and the two c.o.c.ked six-guns pointing straight at them.

"Out here where I can see you," came the gruff voice.

As Christie stepped down from the stage, she looked round for Zee, her heart sinking when she saw no sign of her. But she can more than look after herself, she reminded herself. Vesta and Dan stepped down next, followed by the other pa.s.sengers. Last to emerge was Gregg, gun in hand, knuckles white as he pulled the trigger.

Two gunshots rang out in quick succession, and he cried out, dropped his revolver, and cradled his handthe fleshy part of his palm was bleeding copiously. With a cry, Annie rushed to offer him her handkerchief as a bandage.

"Stupid move," said the Bandit, who appeared unharmed. "Next one to try it ends up dead."

Vesta and Dan moved closer to one another and held hands. The preacher began to pray under his breath.

"This is an outrage!" said Mrs. Grummond, her ample bosom heaving.

The Bandit ignored her. "No one need get hurt," he said. "I only want the gold."