McCrory's Lady Read Online Free Page B

recognizing a kindred spirit, but when Wolf asked to accompany him, he refused, explaining that the hill folk were afraid of gringos—even gringos with Indian blood—and would not talk to them.
           “Guess we'll have to wait here,” Wolf said to Colin. “We could use some real sleep before going up against Lazlo and Haywood.”
           “It's been a hell of a ride.” Colin nodded in resignation. Every hour would crawl by until he could get Eden back and see her kidnappers dead.
           “Well, hello. Two gorgeous strangers in one day. Things are picking up in San Luís,” a cheery female voice said. The speaker was one of Maggie's “girls.”
           Susie was a bleached blonde with round hazel eyes, a toothy smile and generously endowed curves. She eyed Colin like a puma ready to pounce on a crippled heifer. A slim dark-haired young woman with a pretty heart-shaped face gazed at Wolf with liquid black eyes.
           “I am Carmelita and I, too, am most pleased to show you hospitality,” she said in thickly accented English.
           “Right now I'd like a place to sleep—alone,” Colin replied gravely to the blonde.
           Maggie smiled and instructed her, “Take your turn at the card tables, Susie. Business will pick up tonight.” For some reason utterly unfamiliar to her, Colin McCrory's refusal to avail himself of Susie's charms pleased her greatly. Wolf followed Carmelita's lead and vanished upstairs.
           She turned to McCrory. “I have several extra rooms. I'll have my maid make up a clean bed for you in the one at the end of the hall.”
           “I'm much obliged, Miss Worthington. You're a good woman...for a Sassenach,” he added with a wink.

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
     
           Colin soaked his aching body in the tub, leaning his head back against the rim. Quickly, his body gave way to exhaustion and he dozed. After nearly a week on the trail, sleeping only a few hours a night, he could no longer stay awake.
           The fussy little maid had wanted him to bathe in the tub room that all the girls used, but he convinced her that he would be far happier carrying one of the wooden monstrosities into his sleeping quarters where he could soak in peace. As his eyes closed, his mind conjured up the elegantly seductive madam of the establishment who had offered him amazing wit and erudition as well as surprising hospitality. What an enigma Maggie Worthington was...
           The object of his restive dreams was busy downstairs instructing her recalcitrant Mexican cook about a special dinner menu. When she and Bart dined together, they often enjoyed delicacies imported from San Francisco, such as raw oysters, fresh strawberries, even French champagne. Tonight Maggie was determined to dazzle Colin McCrory. The moonstruck girl from Boston might be a madam in a backwater bordello, but she had learned a great deal about enjoying the finer things in life over the years. For some reason unfathomable to her, she wanted to impress Colin McCrory with that fact.
           After leaving the kitchen, Maggie stopped in front of a mirror to straighten an errant curl that had come loose from her sleek pompadour. “I'm fussing like a green schoolgirl. What the hell's wrong with me?” she muttered to herself as she headed upstairs with the bed linens for his room. Lupe, flighty girl, had forgotten them when she took the bath towels up. Deciding to leave the linens in the bedroom for Lupe, Maggie headed to the room at the end of the hall. Without a thought she opened the door and froze in her tracks.
           Ever since his scalper days, Colin McCrory had honed a keen sense of wariness. He could awaken from the deepest sleep if a twig snapped within forty yards. And he never relaxed without a weapon within reach. As soon as the doorknob began to turn, he bolted up out of the tub, splashing water across the floor as he reached for his