Chasing Rainbows Read online

  For Annie, they’d found an old saddle blanket that was dried stiff with sweat and mud, and torn a slit in the middle. She wore the blanket serape style, draped over her shoulders like a coarse, oversized cape. While the garment didn’t cover her completely — her forearms and calves were still openly exposed — it was a hell of a lot better than that old spruce branch.

  Jake shook his head at the memory of her stepping out before him outfitted in nothing but a few spiky spruce needles. If the woman had meant to shock him, it had worked. If she’d meant to seduce him, that damned sure would have worked as well. Outlaw Annie had a body that would stop a downhill-running, coal-fired, brakes-busted freight train.

  Her breasts were full and round, her waist tiny, her stomach flat, and her hips had a graceful, gentle swell. Her lush figure showed none of the plump, fleshy softness so often seen in barmaids or ladies of leisure. Annie rode hard and lived hard, and it showed. Her skin was taut and smooth; her body was sculpted with long, feminine muscles that served as a luscious counterpoint to her fluid curves. Despite the flimsy branch she’d used to shield herself, Jake had had a clear view of nearly every exquisite inch. And what he couldn’t see… well, he had no trouble imagining.

  But seducing him had obviously not been Annie’s intention. In fact, just the opposite was true. She had stood before him with the tree limb clutched in one hand and the rock tightly fisted in the other — fully prepared to take out after the thief who’d stolen her horse. All in all, she’d presented an affecting image of courage and an odd, almost belligerent vulnerability. As if she’d known she would lose but was determined to go down fighting. That kind of bravery was rare enough in men; Jake had never seen anything like it before in a woman.

  He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Annie stomped along behind him with Cat trailing at her heels. She didn’t voice a complaint even though they had been walking for more than two hours over rough terrain, it was growing bitterly cold, and night was quickly falling. That in itself served to earn her a tiny measure of Jake’s grudging respect. But it did absolutely nothing to help their situation.

  He drew to a halt and scanned the ground. Light was fading a little more with every passing minute. Reluctant as he was to stop, it was better to wait and push on at dawn than to attempt to track a man in the dark. “Looks like we make camp,” he said. “We keep going much longer and we’ll lose him completely.”

  Annie studied the ground and nodded, clearly as adverse to stopping as he had been but equally aware that they had little choice in the matter.

  He searched the horizon, looking for a sheltered spot to bed down for the night, when a faint glow in the distance caught his eye. Glancing over at Annie, he noted that her gaze was fixed on the same point. “Any idea what town that might be?” Jake asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Me neither.” He studied the distant shimmer of light, thinking. “Hell, I guess it doesn’t matter. Let’s give it a try.”

  Annie’s brows snapped together. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “We’re staying right here, right on that thief’s tracks. I ain’t about to risk losing him.”

  Jake studied her in astonishment, amazed at what he considered her total disregard for reality. “Darlin’, have you really looked at either one of us lately? Supposing we do catch up with him at dawn — then what the hell are we gonna do? Threaten to beat him up with my boots if he doesn’t return our property? We do that and the only chance we’ll have of getting away with our lives is if he’s laughing too hard to aim properly when he tries to shoot us.”

  Annie balled her hands into little fists and set them on her hips. “All right, mister, if you’re so smart, what’s your plan?”

  “We go into town, get us both some clothes, some guns and ammunition, and maybe even a horse. It sure as hell beats freezing out here all night, then tracking him unarmed and on foot.”

  “We don’t have any money. You forgetting that?”

  Jake tilted his head toward the town. “That’s probably some mining camp we’re looking at. That means it’s going to be nearly all men. And if it’s nearly all men, that means there’s going to be a saloon.”

  “So?”

  “So if there’s a saloon, you can be damned sure there’s somebody playing poker.” A slow, contented smile drifted across his face. “C’mon, darlin’. It’s time to go water the money tree.”

  The mining town was about what Annie had expected. Main Street was lined on either side with a blacksmith, land office, general mercantile, stable, undertaker, and, just as Jake had predicted, a saloon. Horses and pack mules crowded the hitching posts. The ground was sodden, squashing beneath her feet in a liquid mire of mud and horse manure. Hogs rooted in the street, and chickens walked between the buildings clucking and pecking. A few stray dogs, drunken miners, and a fiery-eyed preacher who stood on a street corner and shouted his sermon of hell and brimstone to random passersby completed the scene.

  Annie took that all in stride. But what proved difficult for her to endure were the catcalls, whistles, and shouts that were directed at her and Jake. It seemed as though every man in town flooded outside just to witness the two of them stroll nearly naked down Main Street. Annie clamped her jaw shut and tilted her chin, refusing to pay them any mind. As for Jake, he appeared completely immune to public humiliation. He strode through town as though he’d just been elected mayor, acknowledging every hoot and holler with a grin and a polite tip of his hat.

  Finally they reached the saloon and stepped inside. The interior was as rough and crude as the exterior. The furnishings were simple: a hard-packed dirt floor, a makeshift bar comprised of a sheet of lumber balanced atop two hefty beer barrels, a few tables and chairs, and smoky kerosene lanterns hanging from nails in the bare walls. A cast-iron stove tucked in the corner radiated minimal amounts of heat. The place smelled of damp earth, fresh-cut pine, unwashed bodies, and lamp oil.

  Roughly twenty men, including the bartender, lounged about inside. Within seconds of then entrance, Jake and Annie were greeted with the same wide-eyed wonder and lewd comments they had received on the street.

  “Looks like you lost your britches, mister!”

  “Looks like your lady friend lost even more than that!”

  “Why don’t you come on inside and let us warm you up, sweet thing?”

  Jake doffed his hat and gave a deep, dramatic bow, smiling patiently as the bawdy jests continued. Annie stood behind him, unable to emulate his good-natured indifference to the raucous laughter. It was all fine and well for Jake Moran to act the part of the town buffoon, but she wanted nothing to do with it. She was already getting far more attention than she liked from the male population in town.

  Once the noise had died down, the bartender asked flatly, “What the hell happened to you two?”

  Jake briefly related how their horses, gear, and clothing had been stolen back at the hot springs.

  The bartender, a beefy fellow with swarthy skin and dark eyes, nodded in commiseration. “There’s a group been rustling cattle all over these parts. Some say they’re Mexican banditos, some say they’re renegade Apaches. They hide out in the canyons east of town. Damned sheriff’s too yellow-bellied to put together a posse and go after them.”

  So they had been on the right path, Annie thought. The trail they had been following led directly toward those canyons.

  “How many are there?” Jake asked.

  The bartender shrugged. “Four, maybe five. But they’re mean sons of bitches, and they’ve got plenty of ammo.”

  “Appreciate the warning,” Jake said, then turned his attention to the crowd at large. “Gentlemen, despite our recent setbacks, I can’t help but feel that this is my lucky night. Anyone here up for a friendly game of poker?”

  “We don’t play for chits here. You hiding your money in your boots, mister?” demanded a voice from the back of the room.

  “Nope. But I reckon they ought to be good for something.” Jake sat down and p
ulled off his finely tooled black leather boots and set them on the bar beside his Stetson. “Those were both custom-made for me out in Denver City. Boots cost me seventy-five dollars, the hat cost fifty. Any bidders?”

  “I’ll give you ten dollars for both,” said the same man who had spoken before. He pulled a bill from his wallet and held it up. “Probably ain’t worth that much, but I reckon I can sell ’em in my store.”

  A miner stood up to counter the offer, but the first man shot him a look that had him sitting back down real quick. Annie knew the man’s type. He was big and brawny, with fair hair and tiny blue eyes that reminded her of a pig’s. He had the look of a bully written all over him.

  “Take it or leave it, mister,” he said to Jake, an expression of smug satisfaction on his face. “Looks like that’s the best offer you’re gonna get.”

  It was an insulting amount. Jake had to know that as well as she did. But surprisingly he didn’t turn it down.

  “Why, that’s mighty generous, friend,” he said instead, smiling politely. If not for the cool, deadly frost that had returned to his eyes, Annie would have thought him completely unaware of how patently he was being taken in.

  “I thought so.” The big man slapped the bill on the bar and reached for Jake’s boots.

  Jake caught his arm. “I assume you’ll give me the opportunity to buy those back at the end of the night.”

  “Sure I will. Unfortunately the price just went up. I figure quality items like these oughta sell for about a hundred dollars.” He shook off Jake’s arm and smiled. “But I tell you what. Since they’re secondhand, and you and your friend there have had such a rough night, I’ll sell them to you for ninety-five.”

  A collective hush fell over the saloon as the men who had been lounging about suddenly tensed, waiting for the brawl that usually followed an exchange of that nature. If Annie had had her guns, she would have been tempted to shoot the man’s fancy little hat clean off his head. But Jake surprised her by once again exercising a considerable amount of restraint.

  He studied the other man in silence, then nodded. “Like I said, you’re a real generous fella.”

  The big man looked almost disappointed. “I’m glad you see things my way,” he blustered. “Name’s Connors. You come see me at my dry-goods store when you get the money.”

  Annie watched as Jake took a seat with seven other men, including Connors, for a game of stud poker. She frowned, mulling over the exchange. She wouldn’t have pegged Jake for a coward, but that man had flat-out stolen Jake’s boots and hat, and Jake had done nothing to stop him. If someone had tried that on Pete Mundy… hell, he’d be resting six feet under by now.

  She took a seat slightly to the left and behind Jake’s chair, watching the play. Jake raked in the first pot. “Beginner’s luck,” he said to the group, then called over his shoulder for a glass of whiskey.

  The bartender brought the drink and set it down by Jake’s elbow. He looked at Annie and scowled, saying to Jake, “Sorry, mister, but I’m afraid your lady friend has got to go. We don’t allow no ladies in the saloon — town ordinance.” He shot a dark look at Cat, who sat curled up near Annie’s ankles, and added, “We don’t allow no pets, neither.”

  Jake glanced away from his cards and handed the bartender a coin for his drink. “Trust me,” he said loftily, “any woman who’s with me is definitely not a lady. She and the cat stay.”

  Annie stiffened as a low rumble of laughter broke out around the table and she was once again the recipient of the men’s rude, speculative stares. “Why, you—” she started, but Jake cut her off.

  “You hungry, darlin’?”

  As a matter of fact, she was. “Yes.”

  Jake glanced up at the bartender. “What are you serving tonight?”

  “We got fried oysters, fried chicken, fried steak, or refried beans and tortillas. What do you want?”

  Annie asked for chicken, while Jake ordered a steak. It seemed a foolish waste of money, considering the fact that they were both close to buck naked and had barely a nickel between them. But if Jake was going to eat, she sure as hell wasn’t going to go hungry.

  Later, with her belly full and her body warmed, Annie relaxed back into her chair and watched the game. Jake won a hand or two, then lost the next several rounds. For a man who supposedly made his living gambling, it was an unimpressive display. Jake seemed to have no strategy at all. He’d see a whopping raise to stay in a hand, then ask for four cards. He’d raise a double eagle on nothing but a pair of twos. All in all, he played like a reckless greenhorn with just a bare knowledge of the fundamentals of poker.

  The game seemed to go on endlessly, the soft slapping of the cards nearly lulling her to sleep. Annie’s attention wavered until a sudden quiet tension brought her focus back to the game. A huge pile of coins, pouches of silver dust, and federal greenbacks sat in the middle of the table. Connors, who was dealing that round, held the deck tightly in his fist. “You in or out?” he demanded of Jake.

  Jake glanced at his cards, then shoved every cent he had into the pot.

  A tight, satisfied smile slipped across Connors’ face. “’Fraid that’s not enough, mister. Looks like the stakes just got a might too high for you to match.”

  Jake studied him in silence, then tilted his head toward Annie. “What’ll you give me for her?”

  Annie’s heart leapt to her throat. “What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded, bolting up straight in her chair.

  Jake lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug, eyeing her intently. “I’m talking about one night with Connors if I lose, or you and I split the pot if I win. What do you say, darlin’? You feeling lucky tonight?”

  Connors’ lewd gaze traveled hungrily over her body. “Either way, the lady comes out a winner, don’t she?” he said, a coarse laugh accompanying his words.

  Repulsed, Annie turned back to Jake, searching his face for some sign that would help her decide. His expression, however, was completely blank, stripped of any clue as to the value of his cards. He looked, in fact, totally indifferent. He might be holding a royal flush; or the son of a bitch could just be bluffing. She glanced at his whiskey glass, wondering if he’d had one, two, or twenty. She hadn’t been keeping track, and there was no way to tell just by looking at him.

  She chewed her bottom lip, wracked with indecision. Connors was a disgusting, arrogant pig, no question about it. If she had to choose between letting him touch her and bathing in a pile of mule dung, she’d pick the mule dung any day. On the other hand, the size of that pot made it a hard bet to turn down. If they won, they would be able to buy clothes, guns and ammunition, and maybe even a horse. Then they could track down those outlaws and get then belongings back. Like Jake had said earlier, going after them on foot and unarmed would be pure crazy. Hell, she’d have a better chance trying to rock a baby to sleep during a buffalo stampede.

  She tilted her chin, looking Jake straight in the eye. “Take the bet.” A murmur of excitement shot through the crowd.

  Jake nodded. A tiny glimmer of what looked like approval glinted in his steely eyes.

  “You heard her, boys, the bet’s on,” Connors declared. The big man confidently set down his cards. “I’ve got a straight, seven high. What have you got, mister?”

  “Two pair.”

  Annie’s heart sank, then her despair turned to fury. Jake had been bluffing. Bluffing. He’d bet every cent he had — and let her risk her own body — on two pair. That selfish, cocky, good-for-nothing, no-account, son of a bitch!

  The other man’s face beamed with glee and disgust. “Hell, two pair don’t beat nothing,” he said, reaching for the pot.

  Jake coolly smiled. “It does if they’re two pair of queens.” He set his cards on the table. “Four ladies, gentlemen, ace high.”

  Connors’ mouth dropped open. “That can’t be,” he stuttered, staring at the cards as though they had grown horns and a tail. “That can’t be.” He lifted-his gaze to Jake, his pink s
kin turning purple with rage. “That money’s mine, and so’s the woman.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Damned right, it is.”

  “Funny, the way I’ve always played the game, four queens beat your puny little straight any day of the week.”

  “You cheated, mister. And everybody here saw you.”

  “You were holding the deck, Connors.”

  The silence was so thick Annie was sure there wasn’t a soul in the room still breathing. While their voices hadn’t been raised, both men kept only their left hands on the table. Their right hands hung low and loose by their sides, ready for a quick draw.

  But Jake wasn’t wearing a gun.

  Jake was equipped with nothing but his moth-eaten red-flannel underwear. The realization struck Annie with chilling, crystal clarity — at the exact moment that Connors shoved back his chair and reached for his Colt.

  Jake shoved back his chair at the same instant… and came to his feet with a gun in his hand — cocked and ready to fire — while Connors was still struggling to bring his Colt into play.

  Connors froze, dropping his gun back in his holster. He blinked in disbelief, obviously trying to mentally grasp both Jake’s speed and the gun that seemed to materialize in his hand out of thin air. “How the hell did you do that?” he gasped.

  Jake tilted his head toward the man who had been sitting next to him. “Borrowed it.”

  Annie’s gaze flew toward the other man, who was studying his holster as though the gun had flown out of it on its own accord. Annie had seen some fast draws in her day, but nothing like that. Jake Moran had moved rattler fast and was obviously every bit as deadly.