Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Well, if it isn’t Josie Tate,” Grayson chuckled, pressing his fingertips together. He wasn’t surprised when she’d stormed into the saloon. He’d expected someone to come after what he’d done to Cash Montgomery. But when Josie Tate herself walked through the door, Grayson couldn’t help but smile.
“Your husband drag himself back home, I reckon?”
He could already tell she was looking for a fight.
She had that same fire in her eyes that the Montgomery boy had whenever he had gotten there earlier.
This time, though, Grayson wasn’t planning on shooting.
Shooting women wasn’t his style. Not when the woman in question was worth far more alive to him than dead.
“It’s Josie Montgomery,” she snarled, correcting him.
He chuckled again, ignoring her comment.
It was entertaining, really, how she was acting as if a different name somehow gave her a different life.
He found it amusing. The saloon had been quiet up until now, with very few men around except a handful passed out at the bar and a few of his men nursing their drinks at the table next to him.
He appreciated a woman like her walking in to storm at him.
Most women would have avoided this place, especially married women—but Josie Tate probably didn’t care. Her big green eyes never left Grayson’s. It was clear she wasn’t interested in backing down from him.
He leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips as he glanced over her shoulder her. “Tell me you’ve brought the cavalry, Miss Tate—excuse me, Mrs. Montgomery. Tell me it’s not just you…” His voice dripped with condescension.
Josie walked quietly toward his table. She didn’t make another sound, but it didn’t matter.
She had already drawn quite enough attention.
She was a beautiful woman. Young, slim, attractive, with pretty hair and eyes—right in the middle of a saloon where men ogled women who were endowed with far less.
Grayson could practically hear the sound of men’s heads turning, staring her down like hungry coyotes.
He also kept his eyes fixed on her—for far different reasons.
Gauging her behavior. The way she held herself—chest puffed out, jaw clenched tight, fists in tight little balls—told him all he needed to know.
She wasn’t intimidated. She was here for a fight.
He’d heard a thing or two about her, but he had to admit, the rumors didn’t give her enough credit. He would never have imagined a spitfire like the girl who was standing in front of him now.
“Remington.” Her tone was sharp and to the point.
“I don’t want trouble. I didn’t come here for that.
But I’ll make it for you if you don’t listen to me good.
Leave my family alone. The Montgomerys are my family.
You’ve got a score to settle with them—fine.
Settle it like a man. Don’t destroy their property.
And leave Samuel out of it. He’s just a baby. He has nothing to do with any of this.”
Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Samuel, huh? That boy’s already a big problem, Mrs. Montgomery. If you think you can keep him out of this mess, you’re fooling yourself, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me names,” she bit out.
Grayson sat up a little straighter and studied her with a look of amusement. I like this girl.
“If Cash Montgomery thinks he can keep me from what’s mine, then he’s gravely mistaken,” he said cooly.
“And I was promised a lot of money to turn you in. Besides, that ranch—it’s mine.
I’ve offered good money for it, and it’s up to your husband to take that money.
If he doesn’t, he’ll lose the ranch, and he won’t get a dime. ”
Josie shook her head as her cheeks flushed. “Samuel is my son. Mine to protect. Mine to make sure he’s safe—”
Grayson clicked his tongue. “Oh, but he’s not your son.
He’s Randall Pierce’s son.” The smile faded slightly from his mouth as his voice became colder.
“And you really think you can keep him safe from a man like Pierce? I wouldn’t let anyone take my son, either.
Especially not some easy woman who shacks up with a bunch of men! ”
Josie shook her head, glaring daggers at him, and he was amused to see a tear fall down her milk-white cheek.
“But listen,” he continued smoothly. “I’m not the one you need to worry about. Pierce is a different kind of man than me—a more desperate man. And he’s expecting his son sooner rather than later, no matter what it takes.”
The mere mention of Pierce’s name made Josie’s entire body stiffen. In fear. In hatred. Her face was even more hardened than before, which was saying something.
She took another step toward him, her eyes narrowed into slits. “You stay the heck away from them all, especially Samuel. I made a promise to his mother that I’d protect him from Randall, no matter what. I won’t let him go, and Randall will never get his hands on him. Not for anything.”
Grayson chuckled, but it was humorless. In truth, the situation wasn’t funny.
He respected her gumption, but money was money, and a deal was a deal.
At least as far as he was concerned. “You can’t protect him forever, Mrs. Montgomery.
Pierce will come for his boy. You can be sure of that, so you may as well play nice before you lose the few cards you still have. ”
Before she could respond, or even so much as play into his hand, the double doors crashed open with sudden force. Grayson’s head snapped toward the sound, and his grin immediately vanished as a drunken Randall Pierce came busting in.
His broad frame blocked out the light from outside and he bore down on Josie as if she was the cause of his darkest desires. His eyes were black—from lust or hatred, Grayson couldn’t tell, but the glisten in his eye was nothing less than pure obsession.
“Pierce, you fool,” Grayson hissed under his breath.
Josie let out a gasp. He couldn’t fault her for that. The man’s bloodshot eyes were locked on her. Trembling, she stepped back instinctively, eyes wide, but Pierce was far faster.
It was like watching a coyote attack a trapped rabbit. He snatched her arm in a rough grip, yanking her toward him. “I knew I’d find you!” he roared in savage triumph.
She squealed with fury, trying to fight him off, but it was no use. He was stronger. Far stronger. “You’ve made a real mess of things,” he growled angrily. “And now you’ve crossed the final line!”
Josie continued to struggle against his grip on her arm. “Let me go, Randall!” she shrieked furiously. “You don’t even know him! Leave him alone! If you loved him, you would let him go!”
Everyone in the room was watching them. Grayson saw some of the men step forward as if preparing to interfere, but a warning glance flashed in their direction made them stop and sit back down.
“How dare you lecture me about my son!” Pierce bellowed, jerking her around to face him, swinging out his fist in a sloppy backhand.
Grayson rose from his chair, irritation gathering like smoke in his chest. He didn’t like the wrong kind of attention on him, and a man beating a woman in the middle of his establishment was definitely the wrong kind of attention.
He’d spent time and energy getting Josie Tate for Pierce, and been paid good money to do so—and now Pierce was going to pull this?
Grayson was close to furious. And that did not bode well for Pierce.
“Pierce,” he warned, careful not to betray his bubbling anger. “You owe me. We had a deal. You paid for her, and I delivered. You can’t just come in here and—”
“Shut up, Remington,” Randall snapped harshly over his shoulder. “I don’t owe you a gosh darn thing. I ain’t paying you a dime!”
Grayson froze, disbelief flooding him. A heartbeat later, it was replaced by anger—genuine fury. “What do you mean, you’re not paying me?” he demanded. “We had an agreement—”
Pierce flashed a dark smile that would have sent a cold chill down most men’s spines. “You think I’m paying you? You didn’t bring her to me. I had to follow her around and wait for you to trip up so that I could get her myself!”
Grayson’s blood was boiling now. “Oh, you’re betraying me now? Is that it, Pierce?” He stepped closer, lip curling in an angry snarl. “I did exactly what you asked—risked my neck to find this girl, follow her, bring her here—and you think you can just back out of the deal now?”
Pierce stared back at him, unflinching. “And what if I am?”
“You’ll regret it,” Remington growled in a warning, but Pierce was already pulling Josie toward the door. She screamed in protest, and again a few men moved to help, but Grayson held a hand up for them to stop.
He was furious enough that he could’ve shot Pierce on the spot, but the last thing he needed was a shootout of his own making in the middle of the street, or worse, have Sheriff Carter get on his tail in earnest.
All he could do in that moment was watch as a terrified Josie struggled against the man’s grip. His hands tightened reflexively, but he compelled his expression into one of total calm.
One thing was for certain: Randall Pierce was not to be trusted. He was a man who didn’t keep his word.
And Grayson hated cheats and liars. Unless, of course, he himself was the one doing the cheating and lying.
He took a step closer to the door as Pierce hauled Josie toward the saloon doors.
“Good luck getting’ that ranch, now!” Pierce hollered mockingly over his shoulder, tugging Josie along as she kicked and scratched. “Those boys won’t entertain you for a second.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, if I were you,” Grayson replied cooly.
The ranch wasn’t the issue. He could starve them out—that had been his plan from the beginning, after all. No, what mattered now was Pierce’s betrayal.
He had been played. He didn’t like it. But it wasn’t going to do him any good to sulk. Pierce wasn’t a particularly smart man.
But I myself was far too preoccupied to anticipate this outcome. A mistake he would not make again.
Just as Pierce reached the door and thrust it open, Grayson spared a glance at Josie. Her eyes met his, ands she snarled and spat on the saloon floor—and then she and Pierce were gone.
Good luck with that one, Pierce. Her ferocity was the only silver lining in an otherwise infuriating scene.
Grayson clenched his fists at his sides. “This ain’t over,” he whispered in a low growl. Far from it. If Pierce thought he could take Josie Tate—Josie Montgomery—and not hold up his end of the deal, then he’d soon be made the wiser for it.
This was war.