Free Tag, You're It! by Penny McCall Page B

of her.
    She made her way to his table, dropped her satchel on the bench seat opposite his, and slid in next to it without hesitation or complaint—or greeting for that matter. But he caught the way she scoped out the place again, taking the pulse of the crowd, much like he'd done when he first arrived. She might not be a pro, but she seemed to have an instinct for reading situations. And people.
    "Deputy Dawg was right," Tag said to her, "I wouldn't've believed the news would get around this fast if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."
    Her gaze circled the place again; when it got back to his face she didn't look encouraged. "A lot of these guys are unemployed, and every one of them wants to find the Lost Spaniard for himself. I'd watch my back if I were you."
    "I'd rather watch yours."
    "My back's not the one with the target on it," she said. "The treasure isn't the only part of the story they've heard."
    "Then they know you came into town with me, and they're probably wondering what part you're playing in all this."
    They'd kept their voices down, but it didn't do them much good because a man appeared at her shoulder, a man about a hundred years old. Faded blue eyes peered out of a seamed face with so many age spots they'd blended together into a natural suntan. He had a slight palsy, no teeth, and ears big enough to pick up a sneeze in Reykjavik. He stood there, looking at Alex, twisting an ancient hat around in his hands.
    "It true you're looking for the Lost Spaniard, Miss Alex?" he asked in a voice that sounded like it had come from someone half his age and twice his strength.
    She looked up at him, her expression softening. But not her attitude. "No, Jess," she said.
    "Because you'd tell us, right? I know you keep to yourout there, and we understand when somebody wants to be let alone—"
    "Not everybody understands that." She looked around the room, a familiar hard light in her eyes. More than one man fidgeted and looked away.
    So that was why she carried a gun, Tag thought, and why she didn't trust strange men. It must have been a hell of a culture shock for a woman like her, educated, refined. Blue blood and old money .
    Something had driven her out here, and not just studying mountain lions. Tag stuck with his first guess that it was a man. And then a couple of the bastards around here had finished the job by deciding to try their luck with a woman on her own seventy-five miles from anyone who gave a damn. And more than one of them looked like they wouldn't take no for an answer—if they even bothered to ask. That thought almost took him out of his chair, his hands clenching with the urge to beat somebody to a bloody pulp.
    He stopped himself, regulated his breathing, and unknot his muscles one by one. He didn't waste a minute delibover the emotion burning through him, either. He'd learned a long time ago that emotion was dangerous. All emotion. He wanted Alex, even bruised and groggy he'd wanted her. But that was lust and lust could be dealt with. What he felt when he looked at her now was respect. Respect was acceptable, and in this case it would also make his life a hell of a lot easier. She could take care of herself, so he wouldn't have to waste time watching out for her.
    That would make up for the time he'd need to spend convincing her.
    He checked back in to her conversation with Jess, figuring he hadn't missed anything since they were talking about someone named Maudey, who needed braces and wanted to be a zoologist, just like Alex.
    "He thinks the treasure can help him put his granddaughter through college," Alex said after Jess shuffled off. "The treasure could help a lot of people in this town. If it was ever found."
    "You still don't believe it will be."
    "If it is, it probably won't be anybody from Casteel. Matt's right about news traveling fast," she said. "Most of the people in here are local, but the ones waiting in line outside aren't. They're drifters, itinerant cowboys, opportunists. They