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Authors: Tender Kisses Tough Talk
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hiring of someone on my payroll vexes me.” His dark brows met. “It truly vexes me. Do you know why?”
Reno stared at him, refusing to fetch up the answers Terrapin wanted. After a few moments, Terrapin’s mouth thinned to the width of a knife blade.
“It’s vexing because you show disrespect by not conferring with me first, Mr. Gold.”
Reno glanced around, keeping Buck and Terrapin in sight, and sighed, feigning boredom. “Uh-huh. Well, respect is earned, not given.” He grinned broadly, playing the country fool, an act that had often served him well when dealing with undesirables. “My mama taught me that.”
“I fear I’m not getting through to you.” Terrapinmoved quick as a snake and clamped a hand on Reno’s left wrist. His fingers felt like a band of steel. “I am willing to overlook your bad manners, Mr. Gold, if you apologize and give me your word that you won’t tread on me again.”
Every muscle in Reno’s body tensed, but he strove for icy composure. Deadwood had taught him to stay calm even when his back was against the wall and the Devil was breathing in his face.
“Take your hand off me, pal,” Reno told Terrapin, his voice soft and deadly. “I appreciate the drink, but I’ve got to be going. It’s my wedding night, you know.”
“Yes, I know, but the night has nearly expired. I wonder if your bride is disappointed or relieved by your absence. How much do you know about her?”
“Enough to know I’m a lucky man.”
“Yes, but I don’t think she approves of the way I do business. I was hoping you would have a calming influence on her. I thought you might rein her in. She tends to be flighty, too high-spirited for her own good.”
“She’s a woman, not a horse.” Reno stared at the hand clamped to his wrist and gritted his teeth against his rising aggravation.
“I’m waiting for that apology, friend.”
“And I’m waiting for you to let go of me,
pal
,” Reno said, lacing the last word with insolence.
Terrapin flexed his fingers and inched his hand back across the table, but his eyes continued to hold Reno in their inky grip. “What’s your tribe, Mr. Gold?”
“Tribes,” Reno corrected. “Cheyenne and Cherokee.”
“Ah, I’ve got Cheyenne blood myself. That and Pawnee. We should be able to reach an understanding, don’t you think? I’m an important man in this community, Mr. Gold, and I have earned respect here. Ask anyone.” He essayed an expansive gesture with one hand.
Reno wasn’t much concerned with that hand, but he did have an interest in the one hidden under the table. He suspected it rested on the butt of a revolver.
“You can understand how distressed I’d be with someone like you coming into town and hiring away one of my most valued girls. A simple apology will appease me for now, friend, seeing as how you’re a stranger and acted impulsively. I’ll allow one mistake.”
Reno let his right hand drop lower until his fingertips brushed the hem of his pants. He said nothing, letting silence speak for him. He felt the tension in the room tighten like a screw. He wanted to stand and make his way out of the gaming hall, but caution held him in the chair.
“Are you going to apologize, Mr. Gold?” Terrapin asked, his eyes going blacker, starker.
Reno shook his head. “No.”
The tension cracked and split the two men apart. Terrapin leaned back to clear his gun from its holster. Reno slipped his fingers around the small butt of the .41 Colt strapped to his right ankle, his actions smooth and lightning-quick from countless hours of practice. With his other hand he gripped the back of the chair as he vacated it and swung it sideways, catching Buckin the chest and face. Wood splintered, and Buck stumbled backward, tripped, and fell. Terrapin froze, staring with surprise at the gun barrel inches from his nose. His brown lips stretched into an unpleasant grin.
“You carry a little ladies’ gun?”
“It shoots big manly bullets,” Reno
Reno stared at him, refusing to fetch up the answers Terrapin wanted. After a few moments, Terrapin’s mouth thinned to the width of a knife blade.
“It’s vexing because you show disrespect by not conferring with me first, Mr. Gold.”
Reno glanced around, keeping Buck and Terrapin in sight, and sighed, feigning boredom. “Uh-huh. Well, respect is earned, not given.” He grinned broadly, playing the country fool, an act that had often served him well when dealing with undesirables. “My mama taught me that.”
“I fear I’m not getting through to you.” Terrapinmoved quick as a snake and clamped a hand on Reno’s left wrist. His fingers felt like a band of steel. “I am willing to overlook your bad manners, Mr. Gold, if you apologize and give me your word that you won’t tread on me again.”
Every muscle in Reno’s body tensed, but he strove for icy composure. Deadwood had taught him to stay calm even when his back was against the wall and the Devil was breathing in his face.
“Take your hand off me, pal,” Reno told Terrapin, his voice soft and deadly. “I appreciate the drink, but I’ve got to be going. It’s my wedding night, you know.”
“Yes, I know, but the night has nearly expired. I wonder if your bride is disappointed or relieved by your absence. How much do you know about her?”
“Enough to know I’m a lucky man.”
“Yes, but I don’t think she approves of the way I do business. I was hoping you would have a calming influence on her. I thought you might rein her in. She tends to be flighty, too high-spirited for her own good.”
“She’s a woman, not a horse.” Reno stared at the hand clamped to his wrist and gritted his teeth against his rising aggravation.
“I’m waiting for that apology, friend.”
“And I’m waiting for you to let go of me,
pal
,” Reno said, lacing the last word with insolence.
Terrapin flexed his fingers and inched his hand back across the table, but his eyes continued to hold Reno in their inky grip. “What’s your tribe, Mr. Gold?”
“Tribes,” Reno corrected. “Cheyenne and Cherokee.”
“Ah, I’ve got Cheyenne blood myself. That and Pawnee. We should be able to reach an understanding, don’t you think? I’m an important man in this community, Mr. Gold, and I have earned respect here. Ask anyone.” He essayed an expansive gesture with one hand.
Reno wasn’t much concerned with that hand, but he did have an interest in the one hidden under the table. He suspected it rested on the butt of a revolver.
“You can understand how distressed I’d be with someone like you coming into town and hiring away one of my most valued girls. A simple apology will appease me for now, friend, seeing as how you’re a stranger and acted impulsively. I’ll allow one mistake.”
Reno let his right hand drop lower until his fingertips brushed the hem of his pants. He said nothing, letting silence speak for him. He felt the tension in the room tighten like a screw. He wanted to stand and make his way out of the gaming hall, but caution held him in the chair.
“Are you going to apologize, Mr. Gold?” Terrapin asked, his eyes going blacker, starker.
Reno shook his head. “No.”
The tension cracked and split the two men apart. Terrapin leaned back to clear his gun from its holster. Reno slipped his fingers around the small butt of the .41 Colt strapped to his right ankle, his actions smooth and lightning-quick from countless hours of practice. With his other hand he gripped the back of the chair as he vacated it and swung it sideways, catching Buckin the chest and face. Wood splintered, and Buck stumbled backward, tripped, and fell. Terrapin froze, staring with surprise at the gun barrel inches from his nose. His brown lips stretched into an unpleasant grin.
“You carry a little ladies’ gun?”
“It shoots big manly bullets,” Reno
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