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It didn’t help matters any that Jackson was smiling, that he seemed to find the entire scene terribly amusing.

  Catalina resumed walking, refusing Jackson’s assistance, brushing his hand away as she passed him and he tried to take her arm again.

  “Well?” she asked, staring straight ahead.

  “Well what?” Jackson asked calmly from just behind her.

  “Juanita,” she hissed.

  “I’ll think about it,” Jackson said softly, as if his mind were elsewhere.

  He had the good sense to stay well behind her as she entered Alberta’s and made her way through the saloon and up the stairs. He’d damn well better not leave her here, and he’d damn well better not touch Juanita again. Another wave of what could only be jealousy washed over her, and even though she recognized it for the senseless emotion it was, she couldn’t shake it. Heaven help her if she was truly falling for a man like Jackson Cady.

  He wasn’t asleep, of that Catalina was certain. His eyes were closed, and he hadn’t said a word since they’d returned to the blue room. He reclined casually on the bed with his ankles crossed and his hands behind his head, his breathing slow and even. But he wasn’t asleep.

  Her anger faded as she sat and watched Jackson pretend to sleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. None of this was his fault. He’d really been quite … decent where she was concerned. Too decent, maybe.

  Jackson Cady wasn’t nearly as tough as he would have the world believe, but he wasn’t a man to be taken lightly. He’d lived the kind of life she could only imagine. Hard. Violent. Unpredictable.

  But he was more than a gunslinger. He was a flesh-and-blood man with a secret, tender spark in his cold eyes that only she could see.

  She wanted, at that moment, to lean over him and kiss him. One more of those searing kisses that could lead to so much more. The effect of a simple touch was stunning; but then, it was new to her. It was no wonder that women in love lost every speck of common sense.

  Was it the same with men? she wondered. Did they think of one woman to the exclusion of all else? Was the need to touch so deep it was painful?

  What would it take to convince Jackson that she could give him something that tramp Juanita never could?

  The thought of that hussy made Catalina lose her smile, as well as the warm contentment that had crept over her as she’d watched Jackson. She didn’t know how to fight someone like that.

  The realization that she wanted Jackson — that he was the man she had waited for all these years — was almost a relief. After all this time, after dreaming and giving up and almost settling for a loveless life with Wilson Ross, she had found what she’d always wanted.

  That smile began to creep across her face again, and she bit her lower lip nervously, uncertainly. That remarkable knowledge was just the first step. There was still Jackson’s stubborn assertion that he didn’t bed virgins to contend with.

  Jackson sat with his back to the wall, a single untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. Where the hell was she? She’d all but pushed him from the room, insisting on her privacy to prepare for the night ahead.

  She’d resisted at first, and then had accepted his command that she make an appearance in the saloon in a frighteningly quick turnabout. Hadn’t given it a second thought since then, apparently. Could she convince Alberta that she wasn’t a prisoner, but a willing employee? Catalina Lane did tell a good story when she set her mind to it.

  As always, he sat alone. Juanita had tried to engage him in conversation, sitting in his lap and asking him to buy her a drink. He’d bought her one glass of Alberta’s deadly whiskey, and then sent her on her way. She’d tried again, as she had that morning, to make him promise to come to her. Twice in one day, asked by two different women for a damned promise! He owed them nothing, least of all his word.

  Juanita had recovered quickly, and now stood at Lucky’s shoulder. The gambler who had bid on Catalina. The gambler who had spent the night in Juanita’s bed. Why did he feel so much anger over the fact that Lucky had wanted Catalina, and none over his night in Juanita’s bed? He didn’t think on it much. Didn’t want to.

  He saw her first, as she stepped down the staircase, and he couldn’t suppress a slow grin. Alberta had dressed her new girl in gold satin and black lace. The gold suited Catalina, hugging her body as if it had been sewn on. The neckline plunged daringly, trimmed with black lace that was stark against the pale globes of her breasts.

  There was a bright smile on Catalina’s face as she walked slowly down the stairs, and her eyes remained on him all the way. With each calculated step, her hips swung just enough. With each breath she took it seemed as if her breasts would burst free. Jackson’s smile faded. Damnation, she didn’t have to take the charade this far.

  He found he was holding his breath, and he didn’t release it until she was almost upon him. “Hello, baby,” she crooned as she sat on his knee and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Did you miss me?”

  Jackson finally tore his eyes from her and scanned the room. Every eye was on them … on Catalina, to be specific. The eyes he met turned quickly away, afraid of any challenge that might be there.

  He turned a scowling face back to Catalina. “Baby?”

  “Sorry,” she said breathlessly. “Darlin’. Did you miss me … darlin’?”

  Did she know what she was doing to him? He was already hard, and if they hadn’t been sitting in a room full of people, he would have taken her right there, pulled her down on top of him, virgin or not.

  “Perhaps you should smile,” she suggested, whispering into his ear, finishing her sentence with a quick nip of her teeth on the lobe.

  He placed his arms around her waist and pulled her close so he could whisper back, “You’ve gone too far, Catalina Lane.”

  “You like?” she whispered back.

  She wanted to know if he liked what he saw or not? Jackson didn’t answer.

  “Isn’t this what you had in mind?”

  She pulled her head away from his ear and placed the tip of her nose against his. Now he could see the amusement in her eyes, there in the dancing flecks of gold. Amusement and … something else he didn’t want to identify.

  “I should put you over my knee right now and whale the tar out of you,” he threatened.

  “Ooohh,” she crooned, pursing her red lips. “Kinky.”

  “Catalina,” he began, with a warning tone to his voice. “What exactly are you doing?”

  “I’m only doing what you told me to do, Jackson.” She whispered his name, her lips almost on his. She faltered a little, and he could see the flash of indecision in her eyes. What did she want from him?

  He laid his lips lightly against her ear. “I told you to pretend to like your job; I didn’t say you had to perform your new duties in front of an audience.” He didn’t pull away immediately. She smelled so good, clean and sweet, and her golden hair brushed his face. Catalina was soft and warm beneath his hands. No corset tonight, just skin beneath the gold silk he touched.

  She didn’t move away, but laid her head against his shoulder, curling into him just slightly. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was trying to seduce him. When she began to trail her fingers along his neck he almost came out of the chair.

  “What’s the matter?” she whispered, lifting her head and placing her face close to his. The tip of her nose touched his, and her lips — reddened, full lips — almost touched his mouth. He wanted to kiss her, right here, right now, but it wouldn’t have been enough.

  “Make the rounds,” he said, drawing his face away from hers before he gave in to temptation and kissed those red lips.

  “What?” The seductive huskiness was gone from her voice, and Jackson smiled.

  “You’re not going to sit on my knee all night, you know. Alberta will expect you to drink with her customers, spread that smile around, wiggle that nice ass for the men who are just waiting for my week to be up.”

  Catalina lifted her eyes and surveyed the
room, obviously not liking what she saw.

  “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “Everyone knows you’re mine for the week. No one will challenge that.”

  “No one?” she asked uncertainly.

  He smiled and gave her a gentle shove. She sounded like a lost little girl again, in spite of her fancy dress and made-up face. “No one,” he assured her.

  He watched her walk away, giving him several backward glances as she approached the crowded center of the room. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but when he saw a miner pull her into his lap he had to force himself to stay seated.

  Catalina looked over the disgustingly grubby miner’s shoulder to find Jackson staring at her. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, or give him the finger, but she did neither. She turned to the miner, her friend Milford.

  “Let me buy you a drink,” Milford offered with a wide grin.

  Catalina smiled but shook her head. “No liquor for me, Milford. My head’s still reeling from last night.”

  “Just one,” he begged. “You can sit on my knee and drink it as slow and easy as you like.” Toothless Milford was staring openly at her breasts, grinning like a fool, all but drooling into his whiskey.

  Catalina shook her head slowly. Jackson could have let her stay at his table. Surely Alberta didn’t expect anything more from her tonight. Yet Jackson had all but ordered her to mingle with these miners and cowboys who wanted to ply her with whiskey and paw her.

  Maybe the gold dress she’d requested from Alberta hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She’d only asked for something seductive for Jackson, for his benefit, and she hadn’t given a moment’s thought to the other patrons of Alberta’s. She wanted him looking at her, not that hussy Juanita. And then what? She wanted Jackson to get what he had paid for.

  She met his glare over Milford’s shoulder. He wasn’t smiling, and she couldn’t force herself to give him a seductive grin to show him how easy this all was. She’d never before met a man who made her want to melt, who made her want to touch and kiss and explore all night. Had she come all this way … all this time … just to find Jackson? And if that was true, would she be a fool to let him slip away?

  A new and rougher hand on her arm made her look away from Jackson and up at the man who pulled her to her feet. It was Harold Goodman, that little weasel, and he was leering at her with very bleary eyes. The man was well on his way to drunk.

  “Join me at my table, Catalina,” he said, his grasp at her wrist tightening.

  “That’s very sweet, but … ” Catalina stopped speaking when he laid a hand over the swell of her breasts above the low neckline trimmed with black lace. She knocked his hand away, but he raised it again to brush his fingers over the same skin.

  Catalina looked over her shoulder, waiting for Jackson to help her. But her brief glance toward Jackson squashed any hopes she might have had for rescue. He sat calmly at his table, apparently unconcerned for her safety.

  Catalina looked up into Harold Goodman’s face and smiled sweetly. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have just one little drink.”

  Goodman presumably attributed her change of heart to his charming ways, and the grip at her wrist eased. That was what Catalina had been waiting for. She twisted so that her back was to him and flipped him over her shoulder. Harold Goodman landed on top of Milford’s table, and it fell to the floor with a crashing, wood-splintering thud, the spindly table legs giving way.

  She didn’t even give Goodman a second glance, but turned her eyes to Jackson. He was suppressing a smile, and so she forgave him … just a little. He raised his still full glass to her, as close to a salute as she was ever likely to get from him. He knew that she was capable of taking care of Goodman. She’d tossed Jackson to the ground, once.

  Juanita had the gall to saunter over to Jackson’s table, and to sit on his knee while Catalina watched. Jackson’s eyes didn’t leave Catalina’s face, but he didn’t push Juanita away, either. And he still hadn’t agreed to stay away from that tramp, as she’d asked just that morning.

  Catalina was at the table before she had a chance to think about what she was doing, and had a handful of Juanita’s black hair in her hand before the bimbo even knew she was there.

  Juanita yelped as Catalina pulled her to her feet. “Did you see that?” Catalina asked quietly, placing her face close to Juanita’s. There was surprise there, and anger, and Catalina wondered too late at her hasty act. She didn’t need another enemy in Baxter — not that she and Juanita had ever been friends. But it was too late for second thoughts.

  Juanita looked to the center of the room, where Harold lay, still. Catalina followed her eyes, and watched as Alberta helped Goodman to his feet. The madam was flustered for the first time since Catalina had met her. She was a very unattractive woman without her air of confidence.

  Catalina turned her attention back to the hussy in her hands. “If you don’t want that … or worse … to happen to you, stay away from Kid Creede.”

  “You can’t do this … ” Juanita said breathlessly, her words denying the fear in her eyes.

  Catalina loosened her grip, and then she released Juanita’s hair and stepped back. What had Jackson done to her? She had never attacked any person, except in self-defense, in her entire life. All those acts of self-defense had been since she’d come here. Since Jackson had found her in the desert. She stared down at him. He hadn’t moved at all, and there was no way to tell what he was thinking, not when those eyes were so cold and distant.

  She stepped back, her eyes flitting from Jackson to Juanita. And the one thought she couldn’t shake was that she didn’t belong here.

  “I don’t feel well,” she said weakly, taking a step back and toward the stairs. Alberta was headed her way, confidence back and fire in her eyes. Harold Goodman had a lot of money and was no doubt a good customer. The madam’s hands were doubled at her sides, and Catalina didn’t have to think very hard to imagine what her punishment was going to be.

  But Jackson rose and stepped between them, blocking Alberta from view.

  “Go,” he said in a menacing voice, pointing to the stairs.

  Catalina didn’t need any more encouragement. She turned, spinning on the heels of her black boots, and ran up the two flights of stairs without looking back.

  All she heard of the quiet conversation in the saloon beneath her was Jackson’s quiet statement, “I’ll take care of it.” She didn’t have to look back to know he was right behind her.

  Nine

  *

  Catalina slammed the door behind her, too ashamed to face Jackson. She was making an absolute fool of herself over a man who’d made it clear he didn’t care for virgins. I don’t bed virgins, he’d said without a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He preferred women like Juanita, and made no bones about it.

  There was no future for them. She didn’t belong here; they never should have met, and she certainly shouldn’t have fallen in love with him.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the rattle of the doorknob. It twisted slowly, but the door didn’t open, and then she heard the scrape of Jackson’s key in the lock. He was locking her in.

  She listened for his footsteps walking away from her, but there was only silence. Catalina stood with her forehead and a palm against the door, knowing that Jackson waited on the other side. What did he think of her now? He’d called her loco more than once. Is that what he thought? Would he really be so grateful to be rid of her?

  “Are you all right?” The whispered question drifted clearly through the wooden door, Jackson’s silky voice free of humor or anger or frustration.

  “I’m fine. Just sorry I made such an ass of myself.”

  She waited for him to walk away, as she had before, but he remained where he was. An earlier thought echoed through her head. In love with him. All her life she’d waited for that feeling, and when it came it was at the wrong time, in the wrong place, and for a man who was destined to die a violent death.
r />   “Go on to bed,” he said gruffly. “I won’t be in until … late.”

  She wanted to ask if he was going to Juanita, if he would return to the blue room at all that night, but she was afraid she knew the answer. She had seen the way the two of them had looked together, the way Juanita touched Jackson, the way he kissed her. She didn’t ask, because she didn’t really want to hear him say it. The very idea hurt too much.

  “All right,” she said softly, and then she did hear those slow, steady steps, even and soft, as Jackson walked away from her.

  He was determined to stay in Baxter until it was safe to take her away. That was her fault. She’d all but begged him to take her with him, pleaded with him not to leave her here alone. How long would he insist they wait? The entire week? Longer? He might not have that much time.

  Catalina walked onto the balcony and grasped the rail, taking a deep breath of cool, crisp air. A miracle had brought her here … to fall in love with Jackson Cady just to watch him die? She couldn’t stand by and allow that to happen, and she couldn’t convince him that she knew what his destiny was.

  If she wasn’t here in Baxter, maybe he wouldn’t stay. He’d already turned down the job that had brought him here, and he had no ties … no reason to stay. He’d never expect her to run, given her fear of traveling alone. Once she was gone, maybe Kid Creede would move on as well.

  That would definitely be for the best. Best for Jackson, at least. She would miss him. More than she missed anyone she’d left in the twentieth century.

  It had to be something instinctive, something primal, that drew her to him. It was like discovering another, new part of herself. Knowing that she was going to have to let him go, Catalina wished that she had never uncovered that particular wonder.

  The crowd moved steadily down the street, almost slithering. The black night was brightened by torches carried high above their heads, and Catalina leaned forward slightly to get a better look. She squinted until the figures lit with firelight were clear. The woman who had stepped into the street to avoid her that very morning was in the lead, along with a preacher. The mob that followed was made up mostly of women, although there were men there as well.