Rogue Rapids Read online

  All this came from one of the girls who’d worked at all three saloons—a girl Sylvia suspected had been with Mack on numerous occasions.

  He’d asked her to accompany him to breakfast, dinner, or supper so many times she’d lost count. Sylvia’s response had been the same each occurrence. Hearing her polite but firm refusal, he’d grinned, shrugged his shoulders, and tried again a few days later.

  It would’ve been easy if he’d given up, moved on to someone else. To her consternation, she found the ex-Union officer enjoyed a challenge, and she’d become a big one.

  The problem wasn’t that Sylvia didn’t like Mack. The problem was she liked him too much. Ever since their first dance at the social the town had held for the four mail order brides, she’d been smitten.

  Sylvia remembered the night with complete clarity. She let her gaze wander around the crowded room, seeing no one of real interest until Mack walked inside with Caleb. The impact had been immediate.

  Not the most handsome man she’d ever seen, his piercing gray eyes with flecks of green missed nothing as they searched the room. When they’d landed on her, she’d felt the floor shift beneath her, breath catching. Tall with broad shoulders, black hair, and strong, angular features, Mack hadn’t hidden his interest. Within minutes, he’d walked straight toward her, stopped a few inches away, and held out his hand, asking for a dance.

  Sylvia could still feel how her body responded when she’d placed her hand in his. It had felt, well…magical. They’d danced three times that evening, and everything inside her screamed he’d been the one she’d traveled all the way from Texas to meet.

  The next morning, Sylvia felt better than she had in a very long time. Lighthearted and full of hope, she’d slid into her nicest Sunday dress, praying she’d see him at church. Leaving her room at the boardinghouse, she’d headed downstairs for breakfast, taking a seat next to Deborah. Twenty minutes later, appetite gone and her chest tight, she’d left the table.

  In an almost gleeful voice, Deborah had shared what she’d learned about Mack, not sparing a detail. It had been a good lesson for Sylvia about not allowing her heart to control her head.

  “Would you care to take a walk after supper, Miss Lucero?” Mack’s deep, somewhat raspy voice jolted her to the present. As much as she wanted to accept, Sylvia knew the only sensible answer was no. She just wished it didn’t hurt so much to continue turning him down.

  She stared down at her still full plate. “No, thank you. I already have plans.” Sensing movement next to her, she glanced over, startled to see Mack had switched chairs. He now sat at her table, his knee touching hers. A quick look to her right confirmed Caleb had left, leaving the two of them alone.

  Reaching over, he placed his hand over hers, his deep voice lowering. “Go to supper with me sometime, Sylvia.”

  Chest tightening, her breath caught as she desperately tried to calm her pounding heart. “I don’t believe it would be a good idea, Mack.”

  His face brightened, a smile sliding into place. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name. I like it.”

  She couldn’t help the slight chuckle from escaping her lips before her face sobered. Inhaling, she tried to calm the anxiety his presence caused. “Why do you keep asking me out? Most men would’ve given up by now.”

  His gray eyes darkened. “I’m not most men.”

  She snorted. “Yes. So I’ve heard.”

  A deep crease appeared between his brows. “What have you heard?”

  Shifting in her chair, Sylvia straightened her dress, swallowing her uneasiness. “It’s nothing, really.”

  As he leaned closer, she felt his breath wash across her face. “It must be something or you wouldn’t have said it. Tell me what you’ve heard.”

  Sylvia didn’t know why she hesitated. Never in her life had she been afraid to speak her mind. Although not as bold or as insensitive as Deborah, she’d always been able to voice her thoughts without worrying about anyone’s reaction. Somehow, her self-assured attitude slipped when it came to Mack.

  “Truly, it’s nothing.” She looked down at her lap.

  Mack shook his head, lifting her chin with a finger. “Did anyone ever mention what a bad liar you are?”

  She pulled her face away from his grip, but not before he saw the blush creep up her cheeks.

  “Well, Sylvia?”

  A slight grin quirked up one corner of her mouth before she bit her lower lip. “Yes.”

  A deep laugh burst from his throat, grabbing the attention of the other diners.

  She tilted her head to the side. “What?”

  “Oh, darlin’. You are sweet.”

  Her back straightening, she pushed away from the table, standing. “I am not your darlin’, and trust me, no one has ever thought of me as sweet.” Turning her back to him, she headed to the stairs, stopping when a strong hand gripped her arm.

  “My apologies, Miss Lucero. I meant no disrespect.”

  She studied his face, seeing the sincerity in his features. It was hard to stay mad at him, and that was just what she needed to do. She’d come to Splendor to find a husband and a safe life far away from a family wanting to take control of her future. Well, maybe not a family. Not her mother or siblings, whom she loved more than anything. She also loved her father, but his idea of a husband and a future held no resemblance to her own dream.

  “It’s all right, Deputy Mackey.” Her voice was soft as she swiped hair away from her forehead. “I’m just tired.” Seeing him blow out a deep breath before he released her arm, she turned back toward the stairs, stopping once more at the sound of his low voice.

  “Join me for supper tomorrow night.”

  Three steps up, she rested her hand on the stair rail, shifting slowly. “I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be wise for me to spend time with you.”

  A brow lifting, he took a slow step closer. “Do you remember the night at the social?”

  She nodded.

  “We danced three times, and they were the best dances of my life. Something happened between us and I want to figure out what it was.” He leaned closer, resting his hand on the end of the stair rail. “Join me for supper, Sylvia. Help me figure it out.”

  Sylvia wanted nothing more than to say yes, but she had a dream, and it didn’t include a man who saw women as nothing more than a way to spend a few hours. She wanted much more from Mack.

  Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin. “I’m not spending supper with you. Or breakfast. Or dinner. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop asking.”

  A look of surprise crossed his face. “Why not?”

  “Because I won’t be another of the ladies you cross off your list before moving on to the next.”

  Chapter Two

  What the hell? Mack’s jaw dropped, watching her turn and hurry up the stairs to the second floor. Her response stunned and confused him. What list?

  Shaking his head, he scratched his jaw, her words continuing to roll around in his head. Sure, he’d been with his share of women in Splendor and Big Pine, and in towns when he’d traveled west. But a list?

  Walking back to the table, he tossed some coins down, glancing up the stairs before pushing through the front door. Mack stopped on the boardwalk, a deep breath escaping as he looked up and down the street. He needed a drink. Maybe two or three.

  Unless the sheriff needed him, he’d spend most nights in one of the saloons before selecting a girl and taking her upstairs. One night would be at the Rose, another the Dixie. Sometimes he’d watch a show at Ruby’s Palace before picking one of the dancers to help take away the loneliness haunting him.

  It was a rare night he actually looked forward to his nights with a saloon girl. The time he spent with them filled an emptiness in his life, a deep, dark hole created during the last few months of the war. Keeping himself busy did an admirable job of easing his pain. Work, whiskey, saloon girls—whatever it took to keep his mind off the images triggering a never-ending stream of nightmares.
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br />   Tonight though, the thought of being with someone other than Sylvia held no appeal. Her mention of a list crossed his mind, causing him to flinch. He pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering where those words had come from.

  Mack had never made a secret of how he spent his time when not working. He’d never cared what anyone thought about his choices. It was nobody’s business what he did. Besides, it wasn’t as if he courted eligible women, then walked away.

  He’d heard the rumors about him courting widows in Big Pine, chuckling at the lie. Mack didn’t know who started such nonsense, suspecting one of the saloon girls. Those women were always talking, making up stories, maybe as a way to pass the time between rising in the early afternoon and going downstairs to work in the evenings. Until tonight, he’d thought nothing of the rumors. People would believe what they wanted.

  He stilled as his thoughts drifted to Sylvia. Maybe she’d heard the rumors. Her knowing about his visits with saloon girls was one thing. Thinking he’d courted and discarded widow women was something else. He cringed, muttering an oath.

  Of course, Sylvia would’ve heard about the time spent with the saloon girls. As friendly and accommodating as they always were, not one of them meant anything to him. Those women were a way to spend time, nothing more.

  Scrubbing a hand down his face, he glanced back at the boardinghouse, raising his head to look at the lights on the second floor. He wondered which room was hers. Mack didn’t understand the immense attraction he felt for the young woman with ink black hair and golden brown eyes, or why he continued to pursue her after being rejected so many times.

  Sylvia Lucero was a prize he couldn’t let go, and Mack had never been a quitter.

  Drawing the brush through her long, dark hair, Sylvia stared out the window to the street below. She hadn’t been able to calm the rapid beating of her heart since running up the stairs, leaving Mack behind to contemplate her last words.

  She hadn’t meant to blurt them out. They were meant to be private, something she’d never planned to speak aloud—at least not to Mack.

  It bothered her that the first time she questioned Deborah’s story was tonight, after the words were spoken. Somehow, saying them to Mack triggered her first spark of doubt. What if they were untrue?

  Pulling the brush down the back of her head, she winced, not realizing her strokes had become so fierce. Hand stilling, Sylvia set the brush down, braiding her hair as she stared into the mirror. When had she started to rely on tales women shared while sipping tea? More importantly, when had she begun believing anything out of Deborah’s mouth?

  Deborah, May Bacon, Tabitha Beekman, and Sylvia had left Philadelphia together. Their association through Pettigrew’s, a company matching mail order brides with requests from the west, had given them an instant, if tenuous, bond during the long trip. Of the four, Deborah proved to be the most judgmental, and by far the biggest teller of tales.

  At first, Sylvia thought she told the yarns as a way to pass the time. The problem was they weren’t exactly fiction. They were comprised of hearsay, gossip she’d heard during her excursions through the railroad cars and at stops along the way. Although entertaining, none of the girls relied on them for accuracy.

  Sylvia wondered why she’d put so much confidence in the stories about Mack.

  Standing, she slipped into a wrapper, leaving her room to walk down the hall to Deborah’s. Knocking, she waited a few moments before the door opened.

  “Sylvia. It’s a little late for a call, isn’t it?” Deborah didn’t draw the door open enough for her to enter.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  Deborah scowled. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow, Sylvia?”

  She leveled her gaze. “Actually, no.” Pushing the door open enough to enter, she brushed past Deborah. Turning, Sylvia crossed her arms. “Do you remember the stories you told about Deputy Mackey?”

  Deborah pursed her lips, brows furrowing. “The ones about his social activities?”

  “Exactly. You said you’d heard about them from a dancer at Ruby’s Palace. I’d like to know her name.”

  Brow lifting, Deborah cocked her head. “For what reason?”

  The corners of Sylvia’s mouth slid into a grin. “Nothing important. I’m curious about someone and thought she might be the best person to ask. Do you recall her name?”

  “Of course I do. It’s Malvina. When do you want to speak with her? I’ll go with you.”

  Sylvia almost choked on the idea. “I don’t want to bother you. I’ll go myself.”

  “It’s no bother at all. I work tomorrow, but not the following day. Will that suit you?”

  Letting out a breath, Sylvia moved toward the door. “Let’s talk tomorrow when you get back from work. We can decide then. Sleep well, Deborah.”

  Closing the door behind her, Sylvia bit her lower lip, stifling a grin as she hurried back to her room. Slipping inside, she sat on the edge of the bed, picking up her diary. Jotting down Malvina’s name, she set it aside and removed her wrapper, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth.

  Tomorrow was her day off, the perfect time to stop by Ruby’s and speak with Malvina. By the time she left, Sylvia would know if the stories Deborah told held any amount of truth or were just one more bit of gossip meant to entertain. More significantly, she’d have an inkling if Mack Mackey was an honorable man or just another rogue.

  “And what may I do for you?” A broad, if tired, smile twisted the corners of Ruby Walsh’s bright red lips. She didn’t hide the way her gaze moved up Sylvia’s body, assessing her with an appreciative nod. “Are you looking for work?”

  Sylvia concealed her unease, shaking her head. “Uh, no. I’m looking for Malvina.”

  Placing a hand on her hip, Ruby snorted. “And what would you need to see her about?”

  Straightening her back, she squared her shoulders. “That is between Malvina and me. Is she up?”

  Ruby’s eyes sparked an instant before she threw back her head and laughed. “You’ve got spunk, gal.” She stepped aside, motioning for Sylvia to enter. “Come in and I’ll see if she’s decent. I’m Ruby Walsh.”

  “Miss Sylvia Lucero.”

  Ruby glanced over her shoulder as she started up the stairs. “I know. I remember when you four gals got off the stage. You gathered almost as much attention as when I came into town with my girls. Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  It took several minutes before her eyes adjusted to the dark interior. A few lanterns were scattered around the room, though not enough to get a good look around. What she could see impressed Sylvia. It was much larger than it appeared from outside, with at least two dozen tables, a long bar on one wall, and a stage taking up the entire span of another wall.

  Lowering herself into a chair, she glanced up the stairs to see Ruby and another woman coming down. Much younger than Ruby, she had curly brown hair, pale skin, and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Sylvia realized she couldn’t be older than seventeen.

  “Here she is. Malvina, this is Miss Sylvia Lucero. She came here to talk with you.” Ruby looked at Sylvia. “She doesn’t have much time. The gents will start wandering in real soon.”

  “Thank you, Ruby. I won’t keep her long.”

  Sylvia waited while Malvina sat down, placing a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn. When finished, Malvina shot a tired gaze at her.

  “What is it you want to talk about?”

  Shifting in the hard chair, Sylvia clasped her hands in her lap. “Do you remember talking to Deborah Chestro about one of your customers?”

  She choked out a weary laugh. “Deborah sometimes brings in extra cake from the St. James. We eat and talk about a lot of people.”

  “Deputy Mackey?”

  An odd look, wistful and full of longing, crossed Malvina’s face. “Mack?” she whispered out his name, her voice thick.

  Sylvia almost didn’t answer, the need to get up and run out a
lmost overwhelming. The look on Malvina’s face, the sound of her voice said more than any words about how the young woman felt about Mack. Sylvia understood at least a little of what she must be feeling.

  Twisting her hands together, she nodded. “Yes. You know him.” It wasn’t a question.

  Nodding, Malvina leaned forward. “He knows all the girls here at Ruby’s, and all those who work at the Rose and the Dixie.”

  Sylvia looked down at her hands. “I see.”

  Malvina continued, as if Sylvia hadn’t spoken. “He’s a true gentleman. Takes real good care of the girl he’s with.” She let out a shaky breath. “Too bad he’s not interested in anything more than conversation and a little fun in bed.”

  Clearing her throat, Sylvia felt heat creep up her face. She hadn’t expected quite this much information and wasn’t prepared with a response. “I see.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you do, Miss Lucero. Mack isn’t like most of the other men who come in here. He doesn’t just pay for our time and leave. Whoever he picks gets a meal sent up. We eat and talk for a while. We never even get near the bed half the time. We talk for an hour or two before he leaves. The other girls say the same.” She met Sylvia’s gaze. “When he does take any of us to bed, he’s real gentle, as if he cares about us. Does that make sense?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Always leaves a little extra on the dresser before he leaves.” Glancing around, she lowered her voice. “I think Mack is lonely. He pays for us just so he has someone to talk to.”

  The lump in her throat continued to grow with each word out of Malvina’s mouth. Sylvia bit her lip, realizing how little she knew about what happened between a man and woman, and how little she knew about Mack Mackey.

  Ignoring her embarrassment, Sylvia lifted her chin. “What about the widows he’s courted? Does he treat them the same?”

  Malvina’s brows drew together. “Widows?”