Free New Mexico Madman (9781101612644) by Jon Sharpe Page A

corrected him, his eyes cutting to the actress. “I saved the men sleeping in the hallway at the front of the house. That powder charge was deliberately placed to spare anyone at the rear of the house—such as you, Miss Barton.”
    â€œI do not take your meaning, Mr. Fargo.”
    â€œThen I’ll chew it a little finer—it was meant to kill me, your bodyguard, but keep you alive—until June nineteenth.”
    Fargo let silence underscore his point. Now she did take his meaning and the strength deserted her legs. She fell into one of the chairs.
    Ashton watched her closely. “Notice how the lily chases the rose from the cheeks of our proud beauty.”
    She glanced at him sharply. “That’s one of my lines from the romantic play
Fair
Is
the
Rose
. I’ve noticed you are a cultured man, Mr. Ashton, but I wouldn’t take you for an enthusiast of ladies’ romances.”
    He bowed slightly. “Like the bee, I sample many flowers.”
    Interesting, Fargo thought. For a moment he recalled an image from his dream: a silver concho belt that turned into a snake with bloody fangs.
    Kathleen aimed her bewitching eyes at the Trailsman again. “You mean, of course, Zack Lomax?”
    â€œThe very man, wouldn’t you agree?”
    After a few heartbeats she nodded. “My agent was right after all. And I dismissed that letter as hollow melodrama.”
    â€œWe were both dunderheads, lass,” Booger said in a rare admission of guilt. “I called long-shanks here a nervous old woman for fretting constantly about danger. Now I see he is right, and this run will be no trip to Santa’s lap.”
    â€œI understand your point about Fate,” Kathleen said contritely. “Fate placed that powder keg outside the door—the cards you were dealt. But you ‘played your hand’ skillfully and saved many lives.”
    â€œNot Fate, Miss Barton,” the preacher cut in, clutching his Bible in both hands and raising it for emphasis. “That is merely a roll of the dice. It is God’s will that determines each man’s destiny.”
    â€œPious piffle,” the astrological doctor protested. “Our destiny is determined by the alignment of stars and planets.”
    Booger brought one fist down on the table so hard that the whiskey bottle leaped two inches into the air. “Faugh!
Both
you chowderheads can chuck the gasworks and loop your buttons! It’s almost sunrise and that swift wagon rolls with or without you weak sisters.”
    â€œBut, Booger,” Trixie protested. “Skye needs to rest. He—”
    â€œHe needs my boot up his hinder, is all. I promised to get him killed, and by the Lord Harry I will! He’s damn lucky he wasn’t bucked out while he was doing the deed outside with this hot little senyoreeter.”
    Socorro flushed and hurried out of the room. Raul threw his hands up toward the ceiling.
“Ay, dios!”
Booger watched Kathleen Barton stare at Fargo and grinned with pure malice.
    â€œWell, that didn’t take you long, did it?” she said snidely. “My noble bodyguard.”
    She returned to her room. Fargo stared at Booger. Abruptly, the two men burst out laughing like schoolboys.
    â€œScandalous,” the horse-faced preacher said.
    â€œIf you say so, Rev,” Ashton remarked. “As for me, I admire and envy Fargo for the conquest.”
    â€œOf course you do, slyboots,” Booger said, narrowing his eyes. “You admire Fargo to death, eh?”
    Trixie brought her lips close to Fargo’s ear. When she whispered, her animal warm breath was a tickling caress.
    â€œSkye? I sneaked outside and spied on you when you done that Mexican girl. Laws! My naughty parts been tingling ever since. The
size
on you—it took my breath clean away. I hope I’m next.”
    By the time the new team was hitched, the dark sky directly overhead was turning grainy with the