Chapter Nine

"So what are ya really back for, Seamus? Do you intend on killin' me or are ya hopin' to win Cassandra's heart?" Finnegan questioned once the two men were alone. He couldn't explain that boiling in his blood or the twist in his gut at the thought of his brother wooing Cassandra.

"I'm back because I want my damn money, Finnegan. I have no interest in having Cassandra as any more than a friend."

"Well why not?" Finnegan questioned with a frown. "She certainly seemed smitten with ya."

"My reasons are my own," Seamus replied simply without meeting his eyes.

"Where are your men then? Ya know the ones that like to hit me upon the head with heavy objects?" Finnegan asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He should know better than to allow himself to relax around Seamus but he was too emotionally confused just now to keep a guard up.

Cassandra... .Little Cass... Even bedding another woman hadn't done away with the budding feelings he was beginning to have for her. Feelings he couldn't allow himself to have! He would only hurt her. He was no good for a woman like Cassandra.

"Gone," Seamus replied, snapping Finnegan from his thoughts. "I sent them away a few days ago when I realized you had Cassandra with you. I wasn't going to cause you harm right there before her eyes. Why are you traveling together? Her father can't be happy about that."

"Whether he is or he isn't, I can't be for certain. She ran away in the night with me in search of an adventure," Finnegan replied. He wasn't about to tell a man he owed so much money to that he was following a treasure map to a lost shipment of gold—even if that man was his brother.

"You haven't taken her innocence have you?"

Finnegan glared at the judgmental tone in his brother's voice, "Honestly, Dear Seamus, if you're having so much trouble with the ladies I happen to know a few in town who would be happy to help ya out. There'll be no need for ya to worry about me any longer."

"This isn't about you, Finnegan. Cassandra is a good girl and deserves better than the likes of you. You are no different than that bastard that raised us and you'll hurt her just the same as he hurt our mother."

Finnegan felt his temper flare. He stood up, jerked his shirt on and shrugged on his vest. With more gusto than necessary he yanked on his boots before grabbing up his gun belt, "That bastard was our father and whether you want to admit it or not he did the best he could just the same as I do."

"Ha! If that's your best then I would hate to see you putting forth no effort!" Seamus bellowed with laughter.

Finnegan just shook his head, cinched on his gun belt and headed for the door, "If I put forth too much effort, Dear Seamus, I would make the rest of you men appear to be standin' still."

"Where are you going? I want my damn money, Finnegan." Seamus grumbled.

Finnegan grinned, despite the anger boiling in his blood and shrugged a shoulder, "Me thinks it quite clear by now that I have no money. Perhaps if ya follow me 'round enough I may drop a coin or two for you to sniff out."

"Where are you going?" Seamus asked again as he followed Finnegan into the hallway.

"To find whiskey," Finnegan lied.

"Whiskey? Truly? You bring an innocent girl like Cassandra to a place like this and then you simply let her wonder the streets alone?"

"Cassandra is no girl and she's tougher than ya give her credit for," Finnegan argued, leaping down the staircase and avoiding more than half the steps. Of course he was going to go check on Cassandra. He might be immature and a bit wild but he wasn't completely insensitive and without common sense. He knew this town could pose a threat to Cassandra and he had every intention of protecting her. He would not allow any harm to come to the woman.

"What are your intentions with her, Finnegan?"

"I don't see how that's any of your concern, Dear Seamus. We may be brothers by blood but that's as far as it goes. Ya have tried to kill me more times than I can count over the last few years and I have no love left for you."

"I never really tried to kill you, Finnegan," Seamus argued, grabbed his arm and spinning Finnegan around to face him. "If I had wanted you dead then you would have been dead. I was only trying to teach you a lesson."

"Well from now on then how about we agree to no more favors or lessons then, huh?" Finnegan patted Seamus on the back and then continued on his way out into the sun.

All his life he'd been hearing how he was no good and quite honestly he was getting sick of listening to it.

***

"Little Cass, are ya done? Truly? I was beginnin' to fear I would die of boredom before you finished." Finnegan whimpered as Cassandra stepped out of the diner a few hours before sunset that evening.

"It's called employment, Finn," Cassandra replied.

Finnegan noticed her glancing around and he shook his head. "If you're lookin' for your lover man he's at the hotel standin' guard over my things to ensure I do not leave before he has his money."

"I can't believe the two of you," Cassandra scolded. "You're brothers and you shouldn't be trying to kill one another over money."

Finnegan grinned and put his arm around her shoulders, "Aye, I would agree with ya there, Little Cass. Why don't ya go have this gem of a conversation with the man who's put a rope 'round me neck twice while I take your earnin's to the saloon and get us a bit of travelin' money?"

"I don't think so," Cassandra shook her head.

"Surely ya did not make enough in one day to cover two train tickets?" Finnegan questioned. He noticed that Cassandra was leading him toward the saloon and already the men were eyeing her as if she were meat at the market. Finnegan felt his defenses rise.

"No, of course not," Cassandra smiled. "I'm going to win enough money for our tickets."

"Surely not!" Finnegan exclaimed as he dug in his heels and jerked her to a stop. "I cannot allow ya to go in there and gamble."

Temper flashed in Cassandra's green eyes and Finnegan groaned inwardly. He'd just made the dangerous mistake of telling Cassandra Little what he would and would not allow, "You are not my keeper nor are you my father, Finnegan Callahan, and I will not allow you to act as if you are either."

"I am your friend, Cassandra, and I am responsible for ya for as long as we're on this journey together," Finnegan argued, though he had no true idea where this protective side was coming from or how to be responsible for anyone else. Hell he couldn't even be responsible for himself!

Cassandra surprised him when she burst into laughter and then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close. She pulled away just enough so she could look up into his eyes, keeping her arms locked around him, "Oh Finn, you know you are my best friend and I love you as much as any friend has ever loved another but this responsible, rule abiding, control taking image you are attempting to uphold right now is utterly ridiculous and not you in the least." Finnegan wanted to argue but she was right. "I came with you for adventure and what better way to start on that adventure than to play a bit of poker and show the men that I was taught by the best Irishman there is?"

Finnegan felt his chest swell with pride, "Aye, Little Cass, I did teach ya good," he grinned, "Or are ya talkin' 'bout dear Seamus again seein' as how he seems to have taught ya a few things as well."

"Seamus might have taught me how to fight and how to kiss but an even better Irishman taught me how to place a bet and let it ride."

"Well come along then," Finnegan grinned as he took her arm in the crook of his and led her toward the saloon. "Show me just how well those lessons paid off."

The moment they stepped inside the dusty, brightly lit, loud saloon that smelled of sweat, whiskey and men in need of baths, Finnegan had more of those doubts. Cassandra could really get hurt in a place like this....

Since when did he worry about 'could be' situations or what 'might happen'? He had never in his life thought before doing something. He found that over analyzing situations simply created problems that weren't there to begin with.

A bit of whiskey ought to fix that just fine.

Finnegan released his hold on Cassandra and headed up to the bar. He was aware of her making her way to a back table as he sat on a stool and patted the scarred up bar top, "You back again?" the bartender asked with a grunt. Finnegan saw a group of ladies dressed in corsets and split skirts waving and smirking at him from the far wall where an old man was playing piano. The ladies were clearly the working variety and their long legs were on nearly full display.

Finnegan recognized the woman who had woken up his bed that morning and he wondered if those were the 'friends' she'd been talking about. Shit, it was no wonder he'd woken up with no money... he was lucky they hadn't stolen his clothes and gun belt as well.

Finnegan grinned as the bartender slid a shot of whiskey and a mug of beer in front of him, those women were worth the price. Holy hell, he'd have to see if he couldn't steal a few coins while he was here to cover having them again. It was a long train ride they were getting ready to take and Finnegan wanted to have all the fun he could before they boarded.

"You sure are a brave man to let your woman come in a place like this," a man acknowledged as he sidled up next to Finnegan at the bar.

Finnegan glanced across the saloon and saw Cassandra standing beside a poker table deep in debate with the men seated at it. He could only imagine what was being said and how thoroughly Cassandra was putting them in their place. They'd be in for one hell of a surprise when she sat down and began to play. If there was one thing that Finnegan had taught the girl that had taken hold really well, it was poker.

"She's not a woman who belongs to any man," Finnegan informed the man before taking a swig of beer. "And those men'll get the surprise of their lives when Little Cass empties their pockets for them at that there table."

***

Cassandra was aware of Finnegan sidling up to the bar and she wondered how he planned on paying for those drinks he had just ordered. Deciding that was none of her concern, she made her way through the loud and boisterous crowd of men to a back poker table.

The dealer and the men playing all looked at her with varying emotions. Some simply seemed surprised or shocked to see a lady in a place like this and others appeared hungry, lustful and leering. One man had a scar over his eye and cheek. He was sitting but it was clear he was nearly seven feet tall and he had a powerful, broad build. He licked his lips as his eyes wandered up and down the length of Cassandra's body.

Cassandra felt herself shiver with fear but she kept her face unaffected by the emotion and smiled at the dealer, "Deal me in, please."

"Please? Aww, did you hear that fellas? The woman has manners and a sense of humor," the man with the scarred face sneered as his eyes settled on her breasts.

Cassandra felt her cheeks flush and pulled the two dollars she had made for the day from her pocket. Only seventy-five cents of that was from the diner and the other dollar twenty five were tips from satisfied customers, "I see no reason why manners would be a laughing matter, gentlemen, and I can assure you that I am not attempting to be humorous in the least. I came to play."

The men all laughed, except for scar face. He simply sneered at her and licked his lips as his eyes traveled down to the juncture between her thighs. Cassandra snapped her fingers in his face and his eyes instantly went up to meet her gaze, their nearly black depths flashing with temper, "You'd do well to keep those eyes on your cards instead of on my body, sir. I can assure you that the thoughts you are entertaining about my body are dreams you will never see fulfilled. And I'm quite good at poker so you'll need to pay attention."

Cassandra took a seat, laid her money on the table for the dealer and pulled her pile of chips toward her. She knew these five men thought her a joke and that was just fine with her. She would teach them all that Cassandra Little knew a thing or two about poker.

Winning the first hand had the men sitting up a bit straighter and eyeing her with something other than amusement. They appeared a bit more concerned. When Cassandra went on to win four of the next six hands, the men began to grumble. It was clear they did not like losing to a woman.

"I think she's cheating," a thin man with a bushy beard grumbled.

Cassandra shook her head. "You wouldn't dare say such a thing to a man for fear he'd blow your head off. What makes you think that I will not do the same?"

The man shifted as the other men laughed at him and Cassandra smiled sweetly. It was a bluff of course seeing as how she had no gun but the bluff worked and they went back to playing cards.

Cassandra couldn't help but see Finnegan from the corner of her eye as he slowly meandered back and forth throughout the crowded saloon. He had a woman hanging off of each arm and he was still sipping at a mug of beer. His face was bright with laughter and his brown eyes were twinkling so brightly she could see them from here.... Jealousy shot through her like a bolt of lightning and she hated it. Maybe a trip with Finnegan had been a bad idea.

Then his eyes met hers and his smile grew. He winked in her direction and Cassandra felt her heart get a bit lighter. Of course then the man ruined that good mood by plopping a big wet kiss on the whore to his left.

Cassandra grumbled under her breath and turned her attention back to the game. When her winnings approached fifty dollars Cassandra knew it was time to quit for the night. She was beginning to get tired and Finnegan had already disappeared from the saloon. She figured he'd taken a woman back to the hotel and honestly the thought of that was distracting her from the poker.

She stood as the dealer was readying to hand out new cards and shook her head, "I believe I'm going to call it a night."

"You can't do that!" the skinny, bearded man exclaimed. "You gotta give us some kind of chance to win our money back."

"No thanks, boys," Cassandra replied with a wink as she collected her winnings from the dealer and placed them in the pocket of her split riding skirt. "A true gambler has to know when to call it a night and walk away."

"I'll be sure to watch you walk away, pretty thing," one of the men chuckled. Cassandra was a bit taken aback by the obvious flirtation but the man seemed good-natured enough so she simply laughed it off. Then her spine tingled with unease and she realized that the man with the scarred face was staring at her with nothing but pure lust and rage.

Cassandra kept her back ramrod straight and her steps even as she walked from the saloon. She would not let this man know she was afraid of him. Her family had raised her to be strong and never show fear. Her father certainly never showed fear and Cassandra would not either.

She stepped outside and realized that over the last few hours darkness had fallen. Small torches and gas lanterns cast glows over the streets in places. However the dark shadows simply appeared darker and they seemed to be reaching for her—taunting her.

Cassandra felt another shiver run down her spine and then suddenly she felt an arm wrap around her from behind and a hand clamped roughly over her mouth. She was frozen with shock as the hand cut off her breath and she felt herself being dragged toward a dark alley beside the saloon.

Panic was her first instinct but then she swallowed it down. Seamus had taught her how to protect herself. Yes, it had been years ago but she could still remember the basics.

Cassandra gathered her wits and then slammed her foot down hard on the toes of her attacker's boots. He grunted and his hand dug painfully into her upper arm. Cassandra could feel his breath on her neck and so she leaned her head forward and then swung it back. She heard a crack, followed by loud cursing as his grip on her broke and she leapt from his arms.

Cassandra turned to see the man with the scarred face holding onto his bleeding nose with one hand while he glared at her wish sheer hatred, "I'm going to have you," he growled.

Cassandra simply shook her head, "No, you will not."

Scar face lunged at her but Cassandra side-stepped him. She had hoped that the alcohol she could smell on his breath would be slowing his reflexes but she was mistaken. He spun and grabbed her arm, throwing her against a pile of chopped wood.

Cassandra cried out in pain when her ribs and hipbone struck sharply against the unforgiving wood. The man's body fell upon her and Cassandra shoved him for all she was worth which merely made him chuckle darkly.

Scar Face reached up and grabbed her breast roughly through her dress. Cassandra bit down on her tongue sharply and then jerked her leg, catching his manhood solidly with her knee. He fell backward with a sharp cry of pain and Cassandra gathered up a piece of the chopped wood and swung for all she was worth, catching his temple.

Scar face fell unconscious to the alley floor. Cassandra looked around but no one was around to see what had happened. She was trembling and shaking. Tears filled her eyes and she swallowed hard as she fought them.

Cassandra felt as if she were somehow separated from her body as she strode to the hotel and made her way past the new old man sitting behind the counter. She went up the stairs, not really thinking of where she was heading as she went to room eight and threw open the unlocked door.

Her eyes took in the sight of Finnegan unclothed in the bed with a whore from the saloon giggling atop him.

"Little Cass!" Finnegan exclaimed with shock as he tossed the woman aside and jumped from the bed, pulling the sheet with him to hide his nakedness. "What in the name of Jesus Almighty happened to ya?"

"Do not pretend as if you care, Finnegan Callahan!" Cassandra exclaimed, her voice very near to hysterics. "You have your whore and your whiskey—" Cassandra snorted as she pointed to the nearly empty bottle of the stuff beside the bed. "—that is all that has ever truly mattered to you."

"Little Cass, I..." Finnegan began, his brown eyes looking truly hurt and pained from her words.

Cassandra didn't care. Her ribs were hurting with every breath, her hip bone was throbbing, her mouth was surely bruised from the scarred man's rough hands and her heart was still racing from the close call, "Don't worry yourself, Finnegan. I know the kind of man you are and choose to be your friend despite it. You should consider yourself damn lucky for that. I have the money for the train tickets. I suggest you hurry and finish up with your friend there and get some rest. We're leaving at daybreak."

Cassandra turned on her heel and stomped from the room, slamming the door on Finnegan's hurt and confused face.

She tore her clothes from herself once she was locked inside her room and used the water in the basin to wipe the man's touch from her skin the best she could. Then she curled beneath the covers and closed her eyes, trying to still her swirling mind enough to sleep.

Finnegan had left her alone in a saloon full of dangerous men so he could go drink whiskey and bed a whore..... Cassandra loved Finnegan. He was her best friend despite all his faults but she could not count on him any longer. It was clear that while he had changed in appearance, turning from a boy to a man while he'd been away, his mind was still much the same.

Cassandra would be getting a gun tomorrow and this adventure was going to be hers to take them on. Finnegan could either listen to her or forget about his treasure.