preacher, Kid. Haven't you been listening to him when he's in his cups?" Cash asked.
"How could I not, since he always is? But just because Nate was a preacher does not mean el capitan could not be one too."
"Have you ever heard him mention God?" Jed pointed out.
"What does God have to do with it?"
As usual, Sullivan stayed silent until he had something worthwhile to say. "Could be he was a teacher."
Everyone started laughing.
"Can you see Reese wiping snotty noses?" Jed managed between guffaws.
"Yeah," Sullivan said. "I've seen him wipe up after each and every one of us."
The laughing stopped. Reese made a movement toward the door, planning to put an end to any further speculation, but Rico's next words made him freeze. "He certainly likes the teacher lady of Rock Creek."
"Never seen him look twice at a female before today," Cash muttered. "I always liked that about the man."
"Perhaps his being a preacher is why he looks at the teacher."
"Whadya mean?"
"Wouldn't you say she's a Virgin Mary?"
"That's enough." Reese stepped into the room. All eyes turned to him. "We've got more important things to talk about than my past."
"If you'd tell us the truth, then we could solve the mystery, Capitan."
"Go to hell, Rico."
"But of course. I'm sure you'll be waiting there for us all."
Reese narrowed his eyes and took a step toward the slick-mouthed kid, but Sullivan stepped between them. "Forget it, Reese. He likes to push till we snap. It's his favorite game."
"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here, amigo."
Sullivan gave Rico a shove with his shoulder. "Then quit acting like you're sixteen and rebelling against your daddy."
"When I was sixteen, I was already at war."
"Join the club, Kid."
"But I thought I had." Rico went to sit with the others at the table, where they shared a dusty bottle. As he sipped his whiskey, Rico's dark gaze stayed on Reese. "Isn't that what we are? The six of us? A club of misfits led by el capitan?"
"One of these days you're going to push me too far, and then I'll tan your hide," Reese said.
Rico pulled his knife from the scabbard at his waist and turned the huge blade over and over in one hand with nimble fingers. Sometimes Reese cursed Jim Bowie for inventing such a weapon, but Rico could do amazing things with his knife—with any knife, for that matter. However, he couldn't shoot for shit.
"Tan my hide? That is something I would like to see you try."
"Keep it up and you will."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, must you always squabble?"
Nate stood in the doorway, appearing almost sober but decidedly rumpled. The dark stubble on his chin was only marginally shorter than the stubble on his head. Nate liked to shave his head whenever his hands were steady enough. He said the less need for a comb and soap, the better, and Reese, who had cleaned him up enough times, had to agree.
"Wasn't it St. Paul who said, 'A man's friend is his castle. Do not tear him down brick by brick.' "
"I don't recall that section in the Bible. You're certain you were a preacher?" Sullivan moved to intercept the bottle before Nate could get his hands on it.
Nate shrugged and pulled a flask from his pocket. "As certain as you are that your daddy was a Comanche."
Sullivan's eyes narrowed, and it was Reese's turn to step between two men. "Boys, do you think we could quit picking at one another long enough to save this little town?"
"The quicker the better," Jed put in. "They don't seem too happy to see us."
"If you didn't like it here, then why did you tell Miss McKendrick where to find me?"
Jed shrugged. "She asked for help. I couldn't tell a face like that 'no' any more than you could, obviously. And she does have a way about her."
"What kind of way?"
"A bullheaded kind of way. Once she's got an idea in her head, she ain't going to give it up. I figured better us than anyone else."
"And when did you become an expert on women?"
"Not all women, just women like that. I've got a sister exactly like her back home
"How could I not, since he always is? But just because Nate was a preacher does not mean el capitan could not be one too."
"Have you ever heard him mention God?" Jed pointed out.
"What does God have to do with it?"
As usual, Sullivan stayed silent until he had something worthwhile to say. "Could be he was a teacher."
Everyone started laughing.
"Can you see Reese wiping snotty noses?" Jed managed between guffaws.
"Yeah," Sullivan said. "I've seen him wipe up after each and every one of us."
The laughing stopped. Reese made a movement toward the door, planning to put an end to any further speculation, but Rico's next words made him freeze. "He certainly likes the teacher lady of Rock Creek."
"Never seen him look twice at a female before today," Cash muttered. "I always liked that about the man."
"Perhaps his being a preacher is why he looks at the teacher."
"Whadya mean?"
"Wouldn't you say she's a Virgin Mary?"
"That's enough." Reese stepped into the room. All eyes turned to him. "We've got more important things to talk about than my past."
"If you'd tell us the truth, then we could solve the mystery, Capitan."
"Go to hell, Rico."
"But of course. I'm sure you'll be waiting there for us all."
Reese narrowed his eyes and took a step toward the slick-mouthed kid, but Sullivan stepped between them. "Forget it, Reese. He likes to push till we snap. It's his favorite game."
"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here, amigo."
Sullivan gave Rico a shove with his shoulder. "Then quit acting like you're sixteen and rebelling against your daddy."
"When I was sixteen, I was already at war."
"Join the club, Kid."
"But I thought I had." Rico went to sit with the others at the table, where they shared a dusty bottle. As he sipped his whiskey, Rico's dark gaze stayed on Reese. "Isn't that what we are? The six of us? A club of misfits led by el capitan?"
"One of these days you're going to push me too far, and then I'll tan your hide," Reese said.
Rico pulled his knife from the scabbard at his waist and turned the huge blade over and over in one hand with nimble fingers. Sometimes Reese cursed Jim Bowie for inventing such a weapon, but Rico could do amazing things with his knife—with any knife, for that matter. However, he couldn't shoot for shit.
"Tan my hide? That is something I would like to see you try."
"Keep it up and you will."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen, must you always squabble?"
Nate stood in the doorway, appearing almost sober but decidedly rumpled. The dark stubble on his chin was only marginally shorter than the stubble on his head. Nate liked to shave his head whenever his hands were steady enough. He said the less need for a comb and soap, the better, and Reese, who had cleaned him up enough times, had to agree.
"Wasn't it St. Paul who said, 'A man's friend is his castle. Do not tear him down brick by brick.' "
"I don't recall that section in the Bible. You're certain you were a preacher?" Sullivan moved to intercept the bottle before Nate could get his hands on it.
Nate shrugged and pulled a flask from his pocket. "As certain as you are that your daddy was a Comanche."
Sullivan's eyes narrowed, and it was Reese's turn to step between two men. "Boys, do you think we could quit picking at one another long enough to save this little town?"
"The quicker the better," Jed put in. "They don't seem too happy to see us."
"If you didn't like it here, then why did you tell Miss McKendrick where to find me?"
Jed shrugged. "She asked for help. I couldn't tell a face like that 'no' any more than you could, obviously. And she does have a way about her."
"What kind of way?"
"A bullheaded kind of way. Once she's got an idea in her head, she ain't going to give it up. I figured better us than anyone else."
"And when did you become an expert on women?"
"Not all women, just women like that. I've got a sister exactly like her back home
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