Chapter Five

Jessie sat in a gentleman's lap, her skirts riding up and revealing the soft skin of her calf. She twirled his black bowtie between her slender fingers and watched as he picked up his red-backed cards.

Glancing across the table at her pa, Jessie ran her long painted fingernail along her bottom lip. A sign to let her pa know the man was holding a straight. Her pa gave the smallest of nods as he ran his hand over his thick black mustache to let her know he was going to fold.

No in this saloon knew that the middle-aged man across the table from Jessie was her pa. That would have ruined their entire scheme. They pulled the trick in every small town saloon they came to and they made quite a good living doing it.

Jessie would dress herself up in tight satin and lounge about on the gentleman's laps, distracting them from their cards as she gave her pa signs to let him know what they held in their hands.

She'd been doing this same con with her pa since she'd been thirteen and Jessie was damn good at it.

"Yes. I won that hand!" the gentleman with the straight announced as he slid his winnings toward him. The other men at the table grumbled but the gentleman put his lips closed to Jessie's ear. "I do believe you're my good luck charm."

Jessie gave a sultry laugh and ran her finger down his arm. "A man doesn't need luck when he's as good at the game as you are."

"Just what every man wants," he grinned. "A humble woman."

Jessie winked. "Oh sir, I can assure you that I am in no way a humble woman. I just know a good man when I see one." She batted her lashes and he chuckled. Men were too easy.

The dealer dealt yet another hand and Jessie twirled a strand of hair around her finger to let her father know the gentleman had nothing. She jerked her face away when she felt the gentleman stroke it.

"No touching," she warned with a raise of her brow.

The gentleman simply laughed and went back to his cards. She swatted at him when she once again felt his hand against her cheek. Then Jessie frowned. Was he... wet?

Jessie's eyes flew open and she cried out in shock as she jerked away from the man sitting beside her. He held a wet cloth in his hand and it was obvious that he'd been running it over her face.

"You're awake," Langley breathed out with relief.

Jessie stared into his blue eyes and struggled to remember just how in the world she'd come to be in a bed with Jeremiah's nephew tending to her.

She had been so close to getting the man who had killed her pa but his friend had gotten her first. Jessie had patched herself up the best she could and had taken refuge in this rundown shack. She'd been holed up nearly two whole days before Langley had come riding in. But that still didn't explain how she'd ended up flat on her back in a bed.

"Just want the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded as she swatted that rag away when he raised it to her face again.

Jessie pushed herself into a sitting position and winced when she felt stitches pull in her side. Stitches? When did she get stitches?

"You'd better be glad I came along when I did or else you'd really be in trouble," Langley informed her. "You've been fighting that fever for nearly two days now but you're finally cool and since you're awake, maybe you'll stay that way."

"You've been taking care of me?" Jessie whispered as she studied the man beside her.

His face was covered in red stubble, the same shade as the hair on his head. He had freckles that gave him a youthful appearance but his nose was long and straight, his lips firm and his jaw strong. His eyes were the deepest blue that Jessie had ever seen a person have—they were like a cloudless sky on an autumn day. He had broad shoulders and she realized he had big hands as he folded them and leaned against the bed.

"Yeah," he replied simply.

"Well why the hell would you do a crazy thing like that?" she exclaimed, smacking his hands off the bed.

Langley frowned. "Because you needed help..." he replied as if he feared she'd lost her mind.

Jessie was mad. How dare he make her owe him when she hadn't asked for his help! "I didn't want your damn help," she grumbled, swinging her legs over the bed and rising to stand. She hadn't realized just how weak she was and Jessie's legs gave out beneath her, sending her crashing to the floor.

Her side ached and Jessie took several deep breaths to combat the pain and keep from crying. She glared up at the man as he sat in a chair and watched her with what she would swear was amusement.

"What kind of man just lets a woman fall in the floor like that?" Jessie demanded, finding her temper peak when she realized he was holding back laughter.

Langley shrugged one broad shoulder. "You said you didn't need my help."

She scowled up at him from the floor. "Great. You're a comedian. I'm stuck out here with a polite, funny outlaw. How could it get any better than that?" Jessie tried to get to her feet but her legs simply wouldn't work.

Langley laughed. "I'd say it couldn't."

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh and you're humble too."

She was startled when Langley threw his head back and laughed. Oddly enough, Jessie felt a smile curve her own lips. The man's good mood was infectious. She wondered just how long he had practiced that to perfect it so he could earn people's trust before he took them for everything they had.

"Here let me help you," he offered, swiping at his eye as he got to his feet. Langley got behind her and lifted her up. Jessie leaned against the bed, willing her pain to ease and her blood to flow into her feet.

Her backside was pressed against the front of Langley's trousers. Jessie felt her own body responding to their closeness and she quickly glanced over her shoulder.

Langley's eyes had been focused on her backside but when he realized she had caught him looking, his face flushed, his ears turned red and he let go as he took two big steps back.

"Uh.. there ya go," he muttered, rubbing furiously at the back of his neck.

Jessie's laughter rang out. "Are you really that innocent?" She waved her hand. "You can't be! That has to be part of your act."

"Act?" Langley frowned. Then he let out a nervous chuckle. "Sure... it's an act."

Jessie tested her legs and was pleased that they seemed to be feeling more cooperative. "I'm starved. You got any grub around here?"

Langley followed her out of the room. "I managed to trap a couple of rabbits and I had some hardtack in my saddlebags. So I reckon that means we have rabbit and hardtack."

They sat together at the table with their poor man's feast and Langley pulled off his hat and folded his hands. Jessie snorted. "Seriously?"

Langley glanced up with a frown. "What?"

"An outlaw that prays before meals?"

Langley flashed a guilty grin. "I.. uh..I'm not really an outlaw. I just wanted to have a bit of fun and I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So what are you?" Jessie asked before taking a big bite of her biscuit.

Langley shrugged. "A gunsmith."

Jessie's eyes widened a fraction. "And what exactly was a gunsmith doing in jail?"

Langley sighed. "My uncle..."

"Jeremiah?" she interrupted.

With a nod, he continued, "Well let's just say I found out that family doesn't mean much to him."

Jessie didn't respond and Langley found himself staring at her profile as she gazed out the window. She was beautiful but she was clearly strong and used to doing things on her own. She was stubborn but witty. Langley couldn't help but notice how well the woman would fit in with his family.

"So what about you?" he questioned. "How'd you end up shot?"

Jessie took a bite of meat. "Someone pulled a trigger."

Langley winked. "Funny how that happens."

Jessie smiled so bright the cabin grew lighter but then her smile faded and her eyes became a bit guarded. "You're good."

Langley's brow rose. "I am?"

"Yeah, you are. You have the good guy act down pat. You really pull it off."

"Uh..." Langley's brow furrowed. "Thank you?"

"But I don't buy it," Jessie snapped.

"I'll try harder."

After several more minutes of eating in silence, Langley noticed that Jessie seemed to be growing paler and her shoulders were slumping. The woman seemed exhausted. "I think I'll be going back to bed," she muttered.

"Do you want me to help you?" he quickly offered.

"No," Jessie denied just as quickly. "I don't like people helping me. I don't like feeling like I owe them something."

"You don't owe me a thing," Langley assured her. "My family taught me to always help those in need."

He grinned when he saw the temper flash in her eye. "I don't need you." She shoved herself to her feet and swayed on her legs.

He leapt to his feet and caught her in his arms when he realized she was going to fall. "Okay then. How about I don't help you get back in bed?" he asked with a chuckle.

Jessie's voice was little more than a tired whisper. "Sounds good, tough guy."

***

Jessie was fighting sleep as she lay in the bed and listened to the silence filling the house. She always had a hard time letting her guard down and sleeping when there was anyone else around.

Sleeplessness gave her plenty of time to think—and her mind kept going to Langley. He was unlike anyone she had ever met. He seemed to have a genuine happiness and goodness in him and it had her defenses raising. Most men she knew hid such things because they were seen as weakness. Was Langley truly that kind or was it simply an act?

Jessie used acts to get what she wanted so she knew it was possible. But if Langley was putting on an act, what was he hoping to gain? He'd had ample time to steal what little supplies she had and be gone while she'd been unconscious. Then again, maybe he was hoping to use her body once she recovered. If that was the case, he'd find himself dead in a real big hurry.

Jessie settled back against the mattress and glanced at her revolver on the bedside table. She realized that Langley must have placed it there while she'd been unconscious. Her eye narrowed. Something was certainly wrong with that man because life had taught her that nobody was that nice.