Read Online Only Mine by Elizabeth Lowell - Free Book Online

a warning rather than a lure.
    “Morning, boys,” Wolfe said.
    A few surprised grunts and sidelong looks answered him. The accent and rhythm of Wolfe’s speech, unlike his clothes, were Western.
    With a leisurely glance that was just short of insulting, Wolfe summed up the room. Though his eyes didn’t linger, each of the seven men had the feeling he had been marked for future reference. Only Raleigh didn’t seem to notice the danger in Wolfe’s bleak eyes.
    “There’s a mean wind blowing,” Wolfe said casually.
    Muttered agreement rippled through the room.
    Raleigh dropped his hand to his side and stood relaxed and easy, watching Wolfe. Jessica saw that Raleigh’s riding coat had come open. The right side was pushed out of the way behind the six-gun that he wore on his hip.
    “Well, well, take a look at that,” Raleigh said, whistling between his teeth. “That’s some fancy carbine, suh. Never seen its equal.” He held out his hand, confident the well-dressed city man wouldn’t refuse him. “Mind if I try its balance?”
    “Yes.”
    For a moment, Wolfe’s refusal didn’t register. When it did, a thin flush appeared on Raleigh’s cheekbones.
    “You’re not very friendly, suh. Some would even say you’re insulting.”
    Wolfe smiled.
    Raleigh’s body became less relaxed.
    “Just trying to save you some grief,” Wolfe said. “The trigger’s real touchy. Been known to go off for no better reason than being handed from one man to another. That would be a crying shame, too. Handsome young boy like you would surely leave broken hearts all up and down the trail. Be more weeping and wailing over your grave than when Lee turned over his sword at Appomattox.”
    Raleigh stiffened. “Are you insulting the South?”
    “No, but you are. Any man wearing a lieutenant’s bars on his coat should have better manners than to grab for a lady’s arm.” Without looking away from Raleigh’s angry face, Wolfe said, “Tom, help Cross-Eyed Joe get that fresh team in the traces.”
    “Yessir,” the driver said.
    He jammed on his hat and hurried out the door, careful not to get between Wolfe and the young man who had fought on the losing side of the War Between the States. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Raleigh’s hand began easing toward the butt of his six-gun.
    Jessica’s breath came in with a rush.
    “I see him,” Wolfe said before she could speak. He smiled at Raleigh again. “Don’t let all the gold and silver fool you, boy. Repeating weapons like this one shot Southern regiments to red ribbons. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and reach for that belt gun. I’ll have three bullets in you before you know what happened, and I’ll still have ten more left for your friends.”
    Behind Raleigh, the men began edging for opposite ends of the table.
    “I’ll shoot the next man who moves,” Wolfe said.
    No one doubted him. They sat very still.
    Jessica forgot to breathe as the silence stretched and stretched, plucking at her nerves more savagely than the wind. Then the young man laughed and relaxed again.
    “No point getting riled,” Raleigh said easily. “I was just having some fun to pass the time waiting for the stage.”
    “Going east?” Wolfe asked.
    “West.”
    “Next stage west will be along tomorrow about this time.”
    “Tomorrow?” Raleigh said, startled. “What about the one today?”
    “It’s full.”
    “But only you and the girl—”
    “My wife ,” Wolfe interrupted flatly.
    “You’re the only ones on the damned stage!”
    “Like I said. It’s full.”
    Raleigh’s body tightened again.
    “It’ll keep, Raleigh,” said one of the other men coldly. “If the gent with the fancy rifle wants to fight the Indians up ahead all by himself, let him. One less Yankee bastard won’t bother me none. I’ve got better game to hunt.”
    Raleigh glanced unhappily at the man who had spoken, but didn’t argue.
    “Your friend gave you excellent advice,” Wolfe said to Raleigh.