Clanton's Woman Read online

  “I don’t suppose we’re playing for money, are we?” she asked innocently, rearranging the cards in her hand and giving the poker chips a meaningful glance.

  Jack looked at Jim and Fred, who grinned. He tipped his chair back and watched her. “You think you’ve got something in that hand worth betting over?”

  Mallory knew her face gave away too much. She fought to keep her expression bland. “Maybe.”

  “Then again, maybe not.” He laid his cards down. “Can you beat this, lady and gentlemen? Three of a kind.”

  Jim and Fred threw their cards down with expressions of disgust.

  “How about you, Miss Earp?”

  Was that condescension she detected in his voice? Just a hint of assurance that he’d beaten her? She gave a helpless little shrug. “I don’t know. Let’s see what these three guys think.” She laid down three kings and two fives.

  “Full house,” Jim said, chuckling. “Maybe we should be playing for money, Jack. I’d love to see you lose.”

  Jack regarded her with challenge in his eyes and said, “I think you’re right, Jim. I may have outsmarted myself this time.”

  Mallory looked into his eyes and smiled sweetly. “That’s not too difficult, I imagine.”

  Jim and Fred hooted with laughter and Fred dealt more cards. Jack watched her for a few seconds with a hint of a grin tilting up the corner of his mouth. That look gave Mallory a rush of excitement and made her forget temporarily that she intended to give him a piece of her mind if he was indeed the man she’d been hunting.

  They played another hand. This time when Mallory spread a straight flush on the table, Jim and Fred threw their cards down and shuffled to their feet. “Even if you don’t, we know how to quit while we’re ahead. For someone who doesn’t know much about poker, she’s winning pretty good,” Fred said. “Jack, I think you’ve found someone better than you.”

  “Like I said, blood tells,” Jack answered mildly.

  “Miss Earp, it was nice to meet you,” Jim said as he and his brother plucked their cowboy hats from the rack on the wall. “Welcome to Tombstone. Maybe we’ll see you again, although I don’t think we’ll want to play poker with you. It’s bad enough losing to Jack.” They tipped their hats to her and left, calling out to Jack that they would stop by Charlie’s Bar and cancel those beers.

  Mallory’s lips twisted in a wry smile. Little did Jim know that luck at poker was the only good luck she ever had. Maybe Jack was right. There might be something to the Earp mystique at cards.

  It was now fully dark outside and Mallory knew she should have felt nervous about being alone with this stranger, but she didn’t feel threatened. Perhaps it was due to the rush of adrenaline she was experiencing because she had bested him at poker.

  He must be the man she was looking for. Fred and Jim seemed nice enough despite their fearsome looks, but she doubted they owned the construction business. They simply seemed too easygoing. Jack was obviously the leader.

  Jack shoved his chair back and began gathering cards and chips, placing them carefully inside a velvet-lined box.

  While he was doing that, Mallory stood and took a turn around the room. She inspected the black window shades that she knew must be years older even than she was. “What is this, some kind of clubhouse?”

  He glanced up from where his sure, quick hands were slotting chips into their box. “Nah, just a building I own. Fred and Jim, the Jackman boys who just left, work for me. Whenever we finish a job, we buy a few beers and come here to celebrate.”

  “Very clever the way you tricked me into thinking they might be the ones I was looking for.”

  “Hey, can I help it if people call ‘em Jack’s boys?” He closed the lid with a snap and began emptying ashtrays and beer cans into a garbage bag, which he deposited outside the back door before he locked it.

  “You are the man I’ve been looking for, aren’t you?” she said, clapping her hands onto her slim hips in irritation.

  “I guess I am,” he answered, strolling toward her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”

  Again, a devilish light flickered in his eyes. “I’d never played poker with one of the Earps before. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”

  Something in the way he said it and the way he was looking at her had her nerves jumping once again. To hide it, she lifted her chin. “That’s a poor reason for wasting my time.”

  “What are you complaining about? You won.”

  Mallory drew in a slow, even breath, reminding herself that she needed something from this man and it wouldn’t do to offend him. “Can we talk business now?”

  He looked straight into her eyes as if he knew what she was thinking, as if he could witness her struggle. “Sure. My secretary, who is also my niece Rhonda, said a lady was looking for me. If I’d known it was urgent, I’d have called you right back.”

  Mallory relaxed. “Not urgent, but certainly important. I told her that.”

  “Rhon’s a good kid, but I don’t think her heart’s in her job.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “And you let her run your office? Aren’t you afraid of losing work?”

  His shoulders hitched up briefly, nonchalantly. “Not really. I’m the only one who does what I do. People pretty much have to hire me.”

  “Sounds like you need some competition.”

  “Wouldn’t matter if I had it. I’d still be the best at what I do.”

  Mallory gaped at him. He would have sounded arrogant if not for the matter-of-fact tone of his voice. From everything she’d heard, what he said was true, but she hadn’t expected to hear him say it outright. She didn’t know what to think of him.

  He went on. “Where’s the place you want renovated?”

  “It’s…it’s on that mesa overlooking the Courthouse Museum. It was owned by a couple named Aylesworth. Maybe you know them. I understand their daughter moved them to California to live with her, and…” Her voice trailed off as he snapped to attention and stared at her.

  “The hell you say.”

  “No, I…” She blinked at him. “What’s the matter?”

  He moved closer and his chin thrust out. “I’ve been trying to buy that place for two years. How did you get it?”

  Mallory was scrambling to keep up with the unexpected turn this conversation had taken. “I, uh, made an offer, and it was accepted.”

  “Because she knew it wasn’t from me.”

  “She?”

  “Diane Aylesworth. The daughter.” He scowled. “She’d rather sell it to anybody but me.”

  Mallory didn’t like the tone of his voice. “I’m not just anybody,” she began tartly. “I made a decent offer, and—”

  “How much?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “How much did you offer for the place?”

  When she told him, he glowered at her. “Mine was more. I knew the woman was vindictive,” he said, shaking his head. “But I didn’t know how vindictive.”

  “Why would she be…?”

  “Let’s just say the two of us had a difference of opinion. The Aylesworths lived in the house for a long time, but my grandfather, also named Jack, built it. I wanted to get it back into the family.”

  Mallory stared at him, at a loss about what to say.

  “I’ll buy it from you,” he said abruptly.

  “It’s not for sale. I like the house and so does my sister.” Which wasn’t strictly true. Sammi liked the location and the big lot, but had been appalled at the water stains on the ceiling and the crumbling adobe wall in the living room.

  “There are other places around, and—”

  She crossed her arms. “It took me ages to find this one and I’m not selling it.”

  “You Earps sure have a way of moving right in and taking over, don’t you?”

  Mallory bit her lip to keep from snapping out a reply. She needed this man’s help. “Shall we leave my family out of this?”

  �
�I don’t know that we can,” he muttered.

  “Does this mean you won’t take the job?”

  Jack rubbed his thumb across his jaw as he considered her. “Nah, I guess I can work for an Earp— even one who bought my house when I wasn’t looking. Besides, if I do the repairs, I’ll at least know they’ve been done right.”

  But he wouldn’t be too happy about it. Maybe she was making a mistake in hiring him, but there was no one else who was as highly recommended. “Oh, well…good. When can you give me an estimate?”

  “Tomorrow. When’s a good time?”

  Now that he had begun to talk business, Mallory hesitated. His questioning look spurred her on. “My sister and I will be at the house tomorrow afternoon. Come by then.”

  He nodded, reaching for his cowboy hat and handing her straw hat to her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “That isn’t necessary. I can find—”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  His tone brooked no argument, so Mallory turned, her full skirt swinging around her legs. “All right. Thank you, Mr. Clayton.” Her tone was as ungracious as his. She walked down the shallow steps and made a point of waiting for him, the toe of her boot tap-tapping impatiently.

  He took another quick look around to make sure all was secure, then flipped off the lights before joining her at the front where a porch light burned. In its glow, she saw the flash of a pirate’s grin, or maybe that of a gunslinger.

  “I think you’ve got my name wrong. It’s not Clayton. It’s Clanton. Jack Clanton.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “CLANTON?” Mallory stared at him. “As in…Clanton?”

  Jack nodded his head, laughter in his eyes. “The very same.”

  “You could have corrected me sooner,” she said, not even bothering to hide her irritation, though it was somewhat self-directed. She had made some uncomplimentary remarks about the Earps’ old enemies, the Clantons and McLowerys. How could she have forgotten that in a small town like this, everyone was either descended from, related to, or best friends with everyone else?

  “Oh, but that would have ruined the fun.” Jack’s boots scuffed on the shallow wooden steps as he descended them and came to stand beside her.

  Offended, Mallory stiffened and moved away from him, turning toward the alley and the welcoming light of Allen Street beyond. “Excuse me if I don’t laugh.” She could hear him pause behind her, no doubt surprised by her response. She knew she was overreacting, but old habits die hard.

  In his laughter, she heard the mocking tone of her former husband, Charles Garrison. Poking fun at what he termed her naiveté and inexperience had been his favorite pastime. It had taken her a long time to admit that he only did it to make himself seem superior.

  Glancing over her shoulder when she passed under a streetlight, she said, “It seems odd to me that none of the people who made cracks about my name happened to mention that there was a Clanton living in town.”

  “I don’t really live here,” he said. His tone was easy, but she could see sharp intelligence in his eyes. He was observing her very closely. “I own property in town, but I’ve got an apartment in Benson.”

  She came to a full stop and clapped her hands onto her hips. “Can I expect to meet McLowerys around the next corner?”

  Jack regarded her for several seconds, his eyes unreadable and his shadowed jaw set. “Not if they get a hint of your welcoming attitude.”

  Turning, she started off again and he lengthened his strides to catch up to her. In a few seconds, they were on the wooden sidewalk that bordered the paved street.

  Mallory squared her shoulders and pushed her hat to the back of her head so it wouldn’t prevent her from seeing him clearly. “If you don’t like my attitude, you don’t have to work for me. I’m sure I can easily find someone else to do the job.”

  Challenge lit his eyes and Jack stepped up to her so that they were standing toe-to-toe. She was tall, but he was taller, his size swamping her. Mallory knew she should have chosen her words, or her tone, more carefully, but she couldn’t back down now. She tilted her head back and held his gaze until she thought her jaw would break.

  Jack’s voice was low and full of humor at her expense, but it held an underlying edge of iron. “You can’t find anyone else to do the job, easily or any other way. I’m going to do it. I told you, my grandfather built that place and I’m the one who’s going to repair it. Maybe I can’t own it…yet—but I can damned well make sure it doesn’t fall down from neglect and bad repairs before I can get it back into the family.”

  Incensed, she splayed a hand over her chest. “Excuse me? Are you giving me notice that you plan to put me out of my house?”

  He lifted his hands away from his sides and she was momentarily reminded of a gunslinger preparing to draw. “You’re not in the house yet, and you won’t be until I finish the repairs. I’m just saying that when you’re ready to sell, I’ll be ready to buy.”

  Mallory’s dark eyes widened and she stared at him, at a loss for words. “Well,” she breathed. “You’ve got your nerve if you think I’ll sell—”

  “I’m not talking about buying it now,” he interrupted with swift impatience. “I know I’ve lost, but I also know it’s only temporary. I want you to understand that I plan to do the work on that place. As far as I’m concerned, we have a deal, and we might as well shake hands on it right now.”

  He was standing only inches from her, and when he stuck out his hand, the tips of his fingers grazed the front of her sweater, plucking at the knit fabric as if wanting to draw her closer. Unnerved, Mallory stepped back.

  She had been married for six years. Six long and painful years. In fact, it was the settlement from her divorce that was enabling her to buy the shop in Tombstone and a new home for herself and Sammi.

  She wasn’t a stranger to men, to the touch of a man’s hand, but she was a stranger to the offbalance feeling that was causing her to stare cautiously at Jack and his waiting hand.

  Beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes glittered at her, but his outstretched hand remained steady. “Around here, it’s an insult to refuse to shake a man’s hand when you’ve settled on a deal.” His voice was low and as hard as granite.

  Still, Mallory stared at him. The swift change in him sent surprise and nervous anticipation shooting through her. Her tawny eyes widened and her tongue sneaked out to dampen her dry lips. She had been fooled. Beneath that easygoing exterior was a ruthless man. He might not be an outlaw like his forebears, but he was no pushover, either. A voice inside her cried out that she was giving in too easily, letting him control her, something she had sworn wouldn’t happen again, but his will compelled her.

  “Around here,” he went on, “a handshake seals an agreement or a business deal.”

  She knew that. She was a businesswoman who had just purchased her own shop. It wasn’t the agreement she was worried about. Touching him worried her. Something told her that she would be handing over far more than the renovation of her house.

  Ridiculous, she decided, and her hand shot out to grasp his. It was exactly as she had feared. His big, muscled hand with its callused palm and long fingers wrapped around hers, nearly swallowing it whole. It felt warm, dry and possessive.

  Mallory gave his hand one quick shake and snatched hers away. She stepped back, her boots echoing a rapid beat on the boardwalk. Tilting her head, she tried to appear nonchalant, as if she hadn’t just made a complete fool of herself, as if an unaccustomed tingling warmth wasn’t still rocketing through her veins.

  Jack seemed disconcerted, too. The thoughtful expression on his face told her he was choosing his next words carefully, but he didn’t seem any more eager to resume their conversation than she was.

  Fortunately, she was saved from having to make further conversation by the arrival of a highly polished black pickup truck. It rolled to a stop beside them, and one of the darkly tinted windows cranked down. Fred Jackman stuck his shiny bald head out.

&
nbsp; “Hey, boss, we forgot to ask if you’ve got any work for us tomorrow. You going to be needing us?”

  Jack, who had been staring at Mallory, turned slowly and focused on Fred. Mallory breathed in a deep gulp of air and wished she dared push her hands against her fluttering stomach.

  “No, Fred, not tomorrow. Not for a while, in fact. I’ll let you know.”

  “Sure thing. See you.” Fred gave Jack a two-fingered salute, then called to Mallory. “Good night again, Miss Earp.”

  Mallory gave him a weak nod, then straightened abruptly as an idea occurred to her. There must be another reason for Jack’s insistence on doing the renovations to her house. He must need the money. He didn’t have enough work to keep his employees busy.

  She gave him a swift, sideways glance. It was difficult to tell about a man from his outward appearance and impossible to tell if he was successful in life. She had learned two things about Jack already, though.

  He was self-assured and determined and it was best to avoid misunderstandings by getting all of her facts straight up front.

  “Do you want to do the repairs on my house because you need the money?”

  Jack looked at her and frowned. “Sure, I can always use money. Who can’t? Why do you ask?”

  “You don’t have any work for your employees, so you must be desperate for work.”

  “And you have an amazing ability to jump to conclusions,” he answered dryly as he glanced around. “Where did you say your car is parked?”

  So much for that idea, she thought with a mental shrug. She could only conclude that he did, indeed, have no other motive for wanting to do the work on her house.

  He planned to fix it up so he could take it away from her at the first opportunity.