Pistons and Pistols Page 7

  “Now Jack,” the first one said, scrambling across the road as quick as his position would allow. “I wasthn’t cheating. I didn’t know I had that card sthuck in my belt. Honesth!”

  The big man bore down on the small chap, gritting his teeth and growling like a dog about to attack. The little fellow held up his hands, begging his attacker to spare him, but the larger guy would grant no reprieve. He snatched up the little one by the collar, lifting him from the ground as if he weighed nothing. The small man’s boot heels dug narrow furrows in the dirt as he kicked about, trying to wiggle free.

  “I’m gonna beat the lie right outa your hide,” the bigger guy snarled.

  Rose, while never one to horn in on someone else’s argument, didn’t have time to wait for them to settle their score. “Excuse me!”

  Both males stopped, turning to her in comical unison. Two sets of eyes went wide.

  “I hate to interrupt your instruction in honesty,” she continued, “but can you tell me if this is Ironstation?”

  The pair stared at the women in gaping-mouthed silence.

  “Gentlemen?” Rose asked. “We assume this is the correct place, but your small town seems to lack any indication of identity.”

  “Clem?” the big man peeped, in a voice that seemed much too small for such a bear of a man.

  “Yeah, Jack,” the little one squeaked. “I sthee them too.”

  “You reckon they’re one of them optional illusions?”

  “I sthure hope they aren’t.”

  “I assure you,” Rose said, “we are not illusions. We are very real, very tired and growing very impatient.”

  “Women,” the one named Jack whispered. “Real flesh and blood women.”

  He dropped the other man in the dirt, then proceeded to run one big hand through his thinning hair as he straightened his filthy apron with the other. The one named Clemet scrambled to his feet as he brushed down his clothes. Their argument seemed forgotten in the face of the fairer sex. It took everything Rose had not to laugh.

  “Ladies,” Jack said. “You looking for Ironstation? Well, may I be the first to say you found her.”

  “Welcome to our humble town,” Clemet added.

  “My name is Jack Fortner, and this…” He paused to indicate the tavern from which he had just emerged. “…is my place.”

  “Besth sthaloon thisth sthide of the Misthsthisthip’.” The little man daubed at his bloody nose before he said, “That isth if you like getting your nosthe broken.”

  “Can I offer you ladies something to drink?” Jack asked.

  “Oh yes, please,” Dot said.

  Rose eyed the woman into silence before she turned her attention back to the two men. “Won’t cost us a bloody nose, will it?”

  The bar owner narrowed his eyes, as if unsure if the question were a serious one. “No. Of course not. Please come inside.”

  Unable to contain her mirth, Rose shook her head with a laugh. “I’m afraid we don’t have time for relaxing right now. I’m looking for a man.”

  “You’ve come to the right plasthe then,” Clemet said with a lopsided grin. “We have no sthortage of men. Take your pick.”

  “I meant a specific man,” Rose corrected herself. “A Professor Von Maxwell?”

  A collective gasp drew Rose’s attention to the tavern, where she spied a multitude of men packed in the doorway, watching them with interest. Rose tipped her head to the group. Realizing they had been spotted, the men retreated for the safety of the bar.

  “What business do you have with the professor?” Jack asked.

  “The kind we keep to ourselves,” Jax snapped.

  Jack started, as if slapped by her words. He followed this with a knowing smile, pointing at Jax as he said, “Now you, I like.”

  Jax looked to Rose. “What does he mean by that?”

  “Can you direct us to the professor?” Rose asked.

  “He livesth on the hill.” Clemet motioned to the house in the distance, which came off as a kind of wave in midair, because he was also leaning back, nursing his nose.

  “You should lean forward,” Dot said. “If you keep leaning back, you’ll just get a belly full of blood.”

  “But I alwaysth heard you sthould—”

  “Ever vomited with a broken nose?” Dot asked as she moved toward the man. “I have. It’s not fun. Lean forward. Pinch hard. Trust me.” She laid her hands on the man’s stomach and back, pushing him in the opposite direction from which he was leaning.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The man shifted his position according to her orders, looking quiet relieved the moment he did.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” Rose said as she led her ladies to the house on the hill.

  When they were out of earshot, Jax said, “They are watching us.”

  “I know. But can you blame them?” Rose glanced over her shoulder and, sure enough, about a dozen men had piled into the street, watching the women work their way up the short path to the house.

  “We must look like prime beef,” Dot said. “Lambs among the wolves, as it were.”

  “I do not enjoy being stared at like a meal,” Jax said.

  “Speak for yourself,” Dot said. “I haven’t had this much attention since I was a young thing. I’m enjoying it.”

  Rose had to admit, despite her usual distaste for being gawked at, she found herself enjoying it as well.

  * * * *

  With the captain gone and the rest of the crew left to wait, Gabriella had the perfect opportunity to approach Atom about what had transpired that morning. But try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to get him alone. What if she were wrong? What if he really was in love with Jayne? She didn’t want to send him the wrong kind of signal by luring him to a secluded spot. He might get ideas. Then he might act upon those ideas. The thought of it left Gabriella shivering with delight.

  Then there was the simple fact that she couldn’t get him alone even if she had tried. The boy seemed joined at the hip with that tinker. All day they had remained together, laughing and talking and walking so close it made Gabriella queasy. Right now the two were on deck, working on the navicom, giggling like schoolgirls over some private joke while Gabriella watched them from her hidden place at the mess hall window. Or was she just watching? Wasn’t she, in all truth, spying on the couple?

  “You look like you could use some good news,” Click said.

  Gabriella jumped down from her spot at the window to find the native had joined her without making a sound. How he could move about in such silence was but one of his many mysteries. “Oh, Click, I didn’t see you there.”

  “That’s why I spoke.”

  “Ah.” She sank into a chair.

  “So, what troubles little Guppy?”

  “Nothing.” The sound of Jayne’s laughter made Gabriella clench her fists.

  “You often just sit in here, looking out the window at nothing?” Click peered out of one of the small windows, breaking into a broad smile at the view. “Your fellow is looking fine today. Healed very quickly, didn’t he?”

  “He’s not my fellow.”

  Click tipped his head at the news. “Since when?”

  “Since he started admiring Jayne.” Gabriella didn’t mean to say it. It sort of slipped out.

  “I don’t think that’s where his heart lies. I think he—”

  “He’s made it clear to me where his heart lies. Just…just leave me be.”

  Click sat beside her, not leaving at all. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he folded his hands together, looking much more serious than Gabriella had ever seen him. “I spoke with Miss Maggie.”

  Gabriella sighed. Must her personal issues be fodder for everyone’s gossip?

  “I think you need to talk to him,” Click said. “Let him explain himself.”

  “Look at them,” Gabriella said. “Look at how happy they are together. I think that’s explanation enough.”

  Click got to his feet, holding a hand ou
t to her. “Come on.”

  She stared at his palm, then up at his smile. “Where are we going?”

  “To settle this once and for all.”

  “Oh no. I’m staying right here, thank you very much.”

  Click shrugged. “Then I will fetch him for you.”

  He was at the door before Gabriella called out, “Stop!” Click turned in the doorway, raising an eyebrow in question. Gabriella chewed her lip for a moment, then said, “I’ll come with you.” The last thing she wanted was to have the man escorted to her like some criminal. Perhaps it was best to address this head-on.

  “Good,” Click said. “I will draw Jayne away, and you can have a moment alone with your man.”

  Gabriella nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”

  “No worries. It is what family does. Yes?”

  She followed Click with a smile, intrigued by the idea. Her family would never do anything so selfless. Perhaps her father would have done such a thing, but not her mother or her cousins. They were always so self absorbed, and as a result, maybe Gabriella was too. She made a mental note to keep that kind of inclination in check.

  Click led her, arm in arm, to seek confirmation of her worry. They didn’t have far to go, Atom and Jayne were making their way back to the berths.

  “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” Jayne said.

  “No, I am not,” Atom argued. “You know you want to go.”

  The pair almost stumbled into Click and Gabriella in the narrow hallway.

  “Oh,” Jayne said. “Didn’t see you two there. Sorry.”

  Atom’s gaze landed on Gabriella for a brief second, then shifted to the floor.

  “What kind of trouble are you getting into?” Click asked.

  “Nothing,” Jayne said. “No trouble.”

  Atom continued to eye the floorboards as if they were of some notable interest.

  “We’re going into town,” Jayne said. “For just a little bit.”

  Gabriella was flabbergasted. “The captain told us to remain aboard. It was a direct order.”

  “Well, yeah, about that—” Jayne said.

  “I’m not a crewmember,” Atom said, without looking up.

  “Excuse me?” Gabriella asked.

  He lifted his face to hers, a cold look in his eye. “As your captain has pointed out many times, I am not a member of this crew. I am your employer. And as your employer I wish to go into town for a brief sojourn. Is there a problem with that?”

  Atom had never spoken to Gabriella with such harshness before. She shook her head, a little afraid of what he would say next.

  “I’m taking Jayne along,” he continued, “because I might require some assistance in dealing with the locals.”

  Gabriella shook her head again, though in truth she had a multitude of problems with it.

  “I suppose I’ll be an interpreter,” Jayne said, her smile smug and content. “You know how technical he can get.”

  Yes, Gabriella did know how technical Atom’s conversation could get. It was one of the things she loved best about him.

  “Then you should hurry,” Click said. “They’ll be back soon, and you do not want to be gone when they arrive.”

  “Thanks!” Jayne squealed. She threw her arms around Click for a brief hug, then hurried to catch up with the Atom, who was making his way to the exit ladder.

  Gabriella could hardly believe what she was hearing. So much for family helping one another. She sighed and turned to go have a good cry in her berth.

  Click snatched her by the arm before she could leave. “Go with him.”

  She stared up into the native’s wild eyes, unsure what he meant.

  “Do you love him?” Click asked.

  “I… I do,” Gabriella confessed. “I do love him, Click.”

  Click smiled again, tipping his head in the direction the pair had gone. “If you want him, fight for him. Go.”

  “But the captain—”

  “Will understand well enough. Go. Now.”

  Gabriella did just that.

  Chapter 8

  Ironstation Complication

  In which our salvation becomes problematic

  “Why are they all staring at us?” Jayne asked.

  “Perhaps it is because you’re both so stunning?” Atom offered.

  While Gabriella normally loved to be complimented by the man, being lumped in with plain Jayne was ridiculous. But what was more ridiculous was the way the town welcomed them.

  No sooner had they entered the noisy tavern than the whole place fell graveyard silent. A room full of men turned to gaze at the newcomers with slack jaws and wide eyes. A few even drooled. Only the man behind the bar was composed enough to welcome them and offer them some refreshment.

  Gabriella eyed the room filled with about two dozen or so filthy men, all leering at the three of them like they were on display in some side show. Even the debutant in Gabriella recognized what the leering was all about. “I think it’s because we are women.”

  “I’m not a woman,” Atom snapped.

  “I know, but you’re with us, so perhaps they find you just as fascinating.”

  “Don’t mind them,” the barkeep said as he slammed a pair of glasses on the counter. “They just ain’t seen such pretty girls in a long time, is all. Or such a dapper young lad, if you don’t mind me sayin’.” The big man leaned over the bar, shaking his fist at the gawking crowd as he shouted, “Hey! Get back to it. Leave these kids be. No wonder we never get visitors the way you all keep staring like that.”

  The crowd groused but did as asked, returning to their tables, drinks and conversations, leaving the newcomers be.

  “So,” the barkeep said. “What brings ya ta Ironstation?”

  “The Widow,” Atom said, without even thinking about it. Jayne nudged him in the ribs, while Gabriella tried to hide her smirk. He was so naïve. Even more so than her, and that was saying a lot.

  “That your ship then?” the barkeep asked.

  “Yeah,” Jayne said.

  “What business is she here for?” the man asked.

  Jayne hummed a light tune, a signal that she was trying to think of a suitable answer, while Atom stared into his glass rather than risking revealing more. They needed a distraction. An idea came to Gabriella as her gaze fell upon one of the tables.

  “What are they playing?” she asked.

  “Those boys?” the barkeep asked. “That’s five card stud, little lady.”

  “It looks very interesting. Tell me about it.”

  The barkeep raised an eyebrow to her. “Well, first of all it’s a man’s game. You understand?”

  Gabriella heard the challenge against her sex, and tried very, very hard not to blow her stack about it. “A man’s game? Then it shouldn’t be very hard, should it?”

  At first she supposed she might have come off sounding a little bit haughty. Angering the locals was the last thing she wanted to do. But her fears were assuaged when the big man started to laugh, glowing with an ear-to-ear grin. Whether at her expense or for her amusement, she couldn’t be sure.

  “May I play?” she asked.

  “Well, I suppose so. But…” The barkeep paused, as if embarrassed to continue. He cleared his throat then finished with, “You do realize they’re gambling.”

  Gabriella did realize that, and although she didn’t approve of such things, she decided to make an exception. She rummaged around in the pockets of her blouse for the few bits she always carried with her in case of emergency. One never knew when a couple of pennies would come in handy. When she pulled out the coins, the barkeep’s eyes twinkled.

  “Clemet!” the barkeep yelled.

  A small man turned round in his seat to face her. He looked as though he had been in a fight and hadn’t won. The poor man’s nose was swollen, as were his eyes, both of which sported huge bruises of various hues. His companions weren’t much better to look at. One was bone thin, the next portly to the point of being barrel
-shaped, and the third was so short Gabriella almost didn’t see him amidst the others. But the last man at the table was an impressive sight to behold. With a broad face and flat nostrils, he was the size and almost the shape of an ox.

  “Whatcha yappin’ about?” the beaten man asked.

  “This young thing wants to learn the game,” the barkeep said.

  “Then teach it to her.”

  The men at the table laughed together.

  “She has money,” the barkeep said.

  The beaten man smiled, or rather tried to. His wounds twisted the grin into a grimace. “Why didn’t you say so? Come on over here then, little miss.” He pushed one of the men from the chair beside him to the floor, then motioned to the now-empty seat.

  Gabriella thanked the barkeep and turned to join the game when Atom grabbed her by the arm. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, but she pushed away the longing in favor of a tight grin.

  “Do you think this is wise?” he asked, searching her eyes with his.

  She could have stood there for an eternity, staring into those copper eyes. “Yes. I do.” She left him at the bar with Jayne, taking the open seat and placing her coins in front of her.

  “I’m Clem.” He pointed out each man at the table, from the thin one to the ox, saying their names as he did. “That’s Dover, June, Tobias, and that’s Buford.”

  Every man tipped his head in greeting, except for Buford.

  The big man stood, removed his hat and gave Gabriella a deep bow, almost to the floor, as he said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  The room broke out in wild laughter at his offer of gentility.

  Gabriella was amused, but also charmed by the attempt. She stood, silencing the group as she dipped a dainty curtsy for the man. “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Buford.”

  The crowd laughed again, but Gabriella found it to be more benevolent than cruel. Perhaps it was their nervous way of dealing with such a strange set of circumstances. She couldn’t blame them, having dealt with much stranger things herself in the past.

  Clemet took the deck of cards, passing them with fluttering ease from hand to hand as he explained the rules of the game to Gabriella. It only took a few minutes before she was confident she understood how it was supposed to work.