McCrory's Lady Read Online Free Page A

help me, it would be the gringos at the Silver Eagle.”
           “Well, Bart's in Hermosillo right now, but maybe I can. Describe the men with your woman.”
           “She's not my woman. She's my daughter,” Colin replied, his voice grim and quiet.
           Maggie set her cup down. For an instant she was transported back to Boston, trying to imagine Ezra Worthington coming after his daughter. No two fathers could ever have been less alike. “You don't look old enough to have a grown daughter. I take it you don't approve of her choice of friends.”
           “They kidnapped her. I'd fired one of them. Lazlo probably did it out of revenge.”
           “Lazlo?” Her elegantly arched eyebrows rose. She was startled.
           “You know him?” Colin's voice held a dangerous edge now as he leaned forward, waiting intently for her to answer.
           “Yes, I know who he is and he is slime. He came in here yesterday.” Something kept her from mentioning that he was looking for Bart. “But I don't know where he went. He didn't stay long.”
           “Was he alone?”
           “Yes. I suppose the other man was holding your daughter. They didn't stay in town. There's a place—a hideout really, that Lazlo and his cronies use. Somewhere in the foothills east of here, near the San Miguel River. It's pretty dangerous country.”
           “I'm a pretty dangerous man, Miss Worthington. If you'll just describe where this hideout is, I'll be on my way—with thanks.” He started to rise.
           Maggie stretched her hand across the table. “Wait. I don't know where along the San Miguel it is. You could spend a year riding in and out of all those hundreds of box canyons and never find your daughter. What's her name?”
           “Eden.”
           She watched his face soften for an instant as he said the word. Then, the stricken fury behind those whiskey eyes burned her like golden flames. “I can still help. I have some men who owe me—locals. They can ask the sheep men who know every inch of the foothills. It may take a couple of days, but I guarantee it'll be faster than riding off blind.”
           He was damned if he knew why he trusted her, but he did. “I've brought a partner with me. A breed named Wolf Blake.”
           “From El Paso?”
           “How the hell did you hear of him?”
           “I've traveled all over, remember?” She smiled as she stood, looking up into his eyes. In heels she seldom met a man who was tall enough to require that. “Let me call some friends and set them to work…but they'll expect to be paid.”
           She did not know if he had money with him, but even if he did not, she would pay it herself. If only someone had rescued her from Whalen Price.
           “I have money. All you need.”
           “Good. They won't charge much. I'll see to it.”
           Colin followed her downstairs and listened as she summoned a small wiry man whose bronzed skin and blunt features gave away his Indian heritage. A rapid exchange followed in Spanish, but Colin understood it well enough. She was sending Emilio and several of his companions to check with the sheep men scattered through the foothills around the San Miguel. They haggled over the cost of such an expedition briefly, then Emilio agreed to a modest sum upon completion of the task.
           Just then Wolf entered the cantina and approached McCrory with a negative shake of his head. “Several folks know of him but they say they haven't seen Lazlo in months—or any gringa.”
           “We may be in luck. The proprietress thinks her friends can locate him. He was here yesterday.”
           “I might just ride along,” Wolf said, his eyes studying the other man of mixed blood. “I am called Wolf,” he said in Spanish to the Indian.
           ” El Lobo . Sí, ” the smaller man responded,