Lisa Kleypas - Give Me Tonight

"One of the boys admitted to having seen one of the beds in the bunkhouse empty during the night of the murder."

"Whose?"

"Watts's."

"But… but he's taken me and Caro to town lots of times, and you had him watch over the house so many nights while we were all asleep-"

"I can't prove he's the one. It's only a suspicion." Addie took a deep breath and held on to his arm more tightly. "Where are you going now?" she whispered.

"To visit his sister."

"But… she's a prostitute."

"Hell, Addie, I'm not going to bed her. I'm just going to ask her some questions."

"She's not going to tell you anything to implicate her own brother, even if she knows something. Oh, Ben, I don't like this at all-"

"She's just a girl. A girl who likes money." He frowned as he looked down at her, prying his arm loose from her grasp. "And I don't have much to lose by visiting with her. In the meantime, don't worry about Watts. He's staying far away from the house in a line shack tonight, guarding the edge of the property. "

"Ben," Addie said, her forehead furrowed, "she might try to get you to sleep with her. I know you and I haven't been together lately, but-"

"Oh, good Lord." Ben laughed suddenly. "If you think there's a danger of the two of us…" He continued to laugh, shaking his head as he went out the door. "For your sake, I'll do my best to control myself." She scowled as she watched him go, wondering what he thought was so funny.

In the cowboy's lingo, an especially dirty saloon or dance hall was called a dive. The place where Jennie Watts worked, the Do-Drop-In, deserved a new word all its own. It was filthy and noisy, the floors sticky, the customers raucous, the music boisterous. Ben ambled in and ordered a drink, discovering shortly thereafter that the cheap whiskey deserved its nickname of "rotgut." Ben drank sparingly, eyeing the fleshy girls and their skimpy clothes until he saw a bosomy dark-haired girl whose face reminded him of Watts. Lightly he caught her arm, and she automatically raised a hand to swing at him until she saw his face. Then she put the upraised hand to her hair, smoothing the stray wisps back as she smiled at him.

"Hey, han 'some. "

"Are you Jennie Watts?" It was unorthodox to ask someone's name. Part of the unwritten code was to wait until a stranger decided to identify himself-or herself. But this was a whore, and she couldn't afford to be offended too easily.

"Jennie's busy. But I'm not."

"Where is she?"

The girl frowned a little. "Upstairs. Don't know when she'll come down, neither."

He gave her a cajoling smile and slipped a few dollars into her hand. "Will this help you remember to tell me when she does?"

She smiled saucily, her palm closing around the money. "Maybe." She wiggled her backside enticingly as she walked off, causing Ben to submerge a grin in his drink. It was only a few minutes later that she returned to nudge him with her elbow while carrying a tray of empty glasses. He looked at the narrow stairs leading to the upstairs rooms and saw a girl just reaching the bottom step. She was young, thin and hard-faced, with exotic blue eyes set against strikingly pale skin. In a few strides he was at her side.

"Pardon me… Jennie Watts?"

She glanced up at him through adult eyes in a child's face, and the combination made him vaguely uneasy. "Why do you want to know?" she asked, surprisingly deep-voiced.

"If you are, I'd like a few minutes of your time. "

"You want to dance first?"

"No, I-"

"Then come on." She turned and went upstairs, leaving him to follow. They went into a small, sparsely furnished room where the air reeked of sex and liquor. Ben glanced at the unmade bed and stained sheets, his eyes expressionless. The girl sat on the comer of the bed and began to unbutton the front of her dress.

"Wait," Ben said, and she paused, her eyes cold as they rested on him.

"You want it with my dress on?"

"I just want to talk."

Jennie swore under her breath and stood up, pointing to the door. "Get out."

He pulled out a few bills, holding them between his first two fingers. "I intend to pay for your time."

Leisurely she walked over to the small table by the bed and lit a cigarette, regarding him through a haze of smoke. She didn't ask who he was. It didn't matter as long as his money was green.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.

"Your brother."

She hesitated, then gave a short nod. "Yeah?"

"You seen him lately? Talked to him?"

"Maybe."

"Has he come into any money lately? Maybe even asked you to keep it for him?"

She looked at him silently, lifting the cigarette to her lips and taking a long drag. She had something worthwhile to tell.

"I have great respect for family loyalty," Ben continued, looking at her intently. "But it has been known to come with a price tag." He made a move to reach for his wallet again, then paused, waiting for her answer.

"Don't everything?" And she watched with an appraising gleam in her blue eyes as he tossed a wad of bills onto the bed.

Addie curled up in the comer of the slickly upholstered parlor sofa, feet tucked underneath her. The house was hushed as the family slumbered upstairs, the only sound the methodical ticking of the clock. An unread book was spread open in her lap. Occasionally she would tum a page, her hands compelled to do something. She looked up as she heard quiet feet on the stairs, and saw Cade enter the room, dressed in his cotton nightshirt and a pair of worn-out breeches. He looked tired and grumpy, his feet dragging as he walked over to the sofa and flopped down at the other end.

"What're you waitin' up for?" he asked, smothering a yawn. "He said he wouldn't be back till mornin'."

"I don't feel like sleeping. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I keep wakin' up, thinkin' I heard a noise." He closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

"Cade?"

"Hmm?" he grunted, his eyes still closed.

"I'm glad you're not going to North Carolina with the others. It's nice having you around."

His mouth turned down at the comers in a surly expression, as was his habit whenever confronted by sentiment. "I'm not gonna stay here forever."

Addie smiled slightly. "I know, Cade."

She closed her eyes too, lulled by the quiet and the boy's presence, and gradually the book slid from her lap onto the sofa as she let her head drop, too heavy to support any longer. "Watts," she murmured to herself, her forehead aching as she pondered the name and tried to remember, and slowly she was drifting, drifting, her heartbeat slowing.

She was cuddled close to Jeff, caught up against the side of his body, her slender fingers combing through the mahogany hair on the back of his neck. Her mouth brushed close against the comer of his as she leaned closer. "Help me with the name," he had urged.

Softly she whispered, her lips at his ear. "Try George Watts. He'll do anything for money, anything. I'm sure of it.”

"And you're sure about the rest of it too?"

"Of course I am. We don't really have a choice, do we?" She kissed him sweetly, with a silent promise.

Addie moaned in her sleep, turning her head restlessly.

After leaving the saloon, Ben rode back to Sunrise, every coherent thought gone from his mind. Bloodlust burned in his stomach, dug into his sides like claws, driving him to push the horse to its limits. The ground raced beneath them, but the ride seemed too slow, sickeningly slow.

The wooden line shack was the only shape that broke the horizon, that and the ruins of the fence. Through the cracks between the boards came the light of a lamp turned low. Ben flung himself from the horse almost before it stopped. In a few steps he reached the door, bursting it open with the heel of his boot. A chair crashed to the floor as Watts snapped to his feet… a Colt.45 appearing in his hand. He started to lower it as he saw it was Ben, then instinctively checked the motion.