Ace's Wild

“The only reason that woman’s ever been in a saloon is to try and shut it down. She probably thinks it’s hell on a good day.”

Maddie snorted. “You’re always rooting for the underdog, just like her.”

“Not that anyone notices.”

Caden stretched his legs out. “That’s because you don’t want them to notice.” Ignoring Ace’s glare, Caden caught Maddie’s hand and pulled her into his side. The ease with which she relaxed into Caden’s embrace sent another pang through Ace.

“And why is that?” Maddie asked, shoving the cloth in her apron pocket.

Ace leaned over and tugged her hair, goading Caden with the casual familiarity. “Maybe because I’m not an upstanding pillar of the community.”

Caden growled under his breath and knocked his hand away.

Maddie sighed and caught Caden’s hand in hers, all the while shaking her head at Ace. “I know you, remember?”

It was Ace’s turn to shake his head. The last thing he needed was Maddie speculating on his comings and goings and ways to put an end to them. He liked his life in town. He liked the adventure. He liked the challenge. He liked the occasional fight, and he loved the card games. It alleviated the boredom of working at the assayer’s office. The job was a useful tool for sorting out bad news coming to town, but not much else. Once in a while he did stick his nose into business that wasn’t strictly his, but unlike Petunia, he didn’t make his life’s work out of it.

“This town’s got enough do-gooders,” he told Maddie. “One more isn’t needed.”

Maddie looked at him calmly. Almost expectantly. “Petunia’s going to need help.”

“You might as well get that look out of your eye, Maddie. Whatever Petunia’s got going, it’s not my problem.”

“It will be.”

He didn’t like the knowing glance or the implication behind it. The woman saw too much. “No, it won’t.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Caden interrupted. “This latest project of hers isn’t going to go over well. There are some prominent citizens in this town who’d be mighty upset to see a couple of those children brought forward into polite society.”

“Then they shouldn’t have created them,” Ace retorted.

“I don’t think that was the plan.”

“It’s still the result. Not like you can mistake who their fathers are.”

Damn, now he was sounding just like Petunia.

“It would have been better for those children if their mother had just left town with them.”

“And leave their meal ticket?” Ace shook his head. “No way in hell. As long as those kids exist, Hester has leverage.”

“But they don’t exist. They’re not allowed out of that awful house,” Maddie added. “And that little girl, she’s almost eight now...”

Maddie’s voice broke. Caden rubbed her arm. The one thing Maddie knew all about was how a little girl growing up in a whorehouse lived on the edge of trouble. It made him burn to think about the life Maddie had been forced to live before coming to Hell’s Eight. Petunia was right about one thing. No child deserved that.

Pressing her hand briefly over Caden’s, Maddie took a step back, straightened her hair and then her skirt. Ace said nothing, letting her gather her composure, regretting it as soon as she did, because she turned those soulful green eyes on him again and declared, “You need to help Hester.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re wrong about her.”

Ace sighed. It didn’t really matter whether he was right or wrong about Hester. When it came to the kids, Petunia and Maddie were right. The situation was getting bad. Hester needed to take those kids and leave town. Or Dougall, their father, was going to have to claim them, but they couldn’t be left to be as they were living in the whorehouse. He thought of the little girl, pretty face, pretty hair, but still a little girl and tempting to some. Unprotected except by her mother and a couple of the nicer whores, but their ability to guard her was limited. And if it was decided she needed to earn her keep, then earn her keep she would.

“It’s a mess, and Petunia’s meddling is going to make it blow up before anything can be done.”

“She means well,” Caden interjected.

“She always means well.” Ace growled as the aggravation swelled within him. “She meant well when she decided every child at school should have a decent lunch.”

“She was right,” Maddie chimed in. “They should.”

“Except that those families that couldn’t afford it now live with the mockery of others, and Simon Laramie is gunning for her ass because the whole world now knows that he can’t feed his own kids.”

“It’s not her fault he chose to make a public spectacle of it.”

Simon was new to the area, and he wasn’t established, and the drought hadn’t helped. He wasn’t the only one feeling the pinch or the weather. But he was the most vocal about being made a public charity case.

“His pride was on the line.”

“His children were hungry,” Maddie countered.

“She could have gone about it differently.”

“Be fair, Ace,” Caden interjected. “You know Laramie is about as stiff-necked an ass as there is. He’d rather see those kids starve to death than admit he needed help.”

“Well, that little mess of Petunia’s took a bit to clear up.” And he’d been the one who’d had to do it. He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand, experiencing again that satisfying moment when it’d connected with Laramie’s mouth. Petunia might be a pain in the ass but she wasn’t—as Laramie put it—a bitch.

“But now he’s your enemy and not hers,” Maddie said as if that were the way it should be.

“Oh, he’s her enemy, too. Make no mistake about that.”

“But he’ll have to go through you to get to her.”

“Shit, Ace, you might as well call Petunia Hell’s Eight and get it over with.”

“That will never happen.”

The look Caden shot him was almost as pitying as Maddie’s. “Uh-huh.”

Their knowing expressions were almost as annoying as Petunia’s tendency to gather enemies in her wake. The longer Petunia stayed in town, the more her problems were going to become his, because Caden was right, he couldn’t leave her to whomever. She might be a pain in the ass, but in an odd way she’d become his pain in the ass. That being the case, she needed to get on that stagecoach. For both their sakes.

Down the street at the church, people were beginning to meander free of their socializing. Petunia disappeared into the schoolhouse. “Somebody’s got to rein that woman in.”

“I vote for you.”