Chapter Eleven
Fort Davis, Texas
“…And don’t forget the flour,” Ada said, giving June a pointed look as they walked through the general store. Her mouth had been going practically non-stop all afternoon. “Louise said she needed it for her biscuits.”
“Of course,” June said distractedly. Her mind was elsewhere—at least, it had been, until a familiar voice shattered her daze. Someone was yelling outside. “You yellow bellied son of a—!”
His voice was clear as day—loud, and angry.
An anger she had heard quite a few times over the last couple weeks.
Oh, no. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.
She quickened her pace, leaving Ada in the store, the Texas heat hitting her in the face as soon as she stepped outside in the afternoon sun.
There was a cluster of men swarming in the middle of the street.
Alarmed, June plunged into the street without a second thought, making a beeline for the fray.
“What in world?!” Ada hollered from behind. “What’s going on over there?”
As Ada caught up, fussing the entire way, June kept her eyes fixed on the middle of the circle, pushing through people. Then she saw him, and her heart sank.
She was right. Of course, she was right.
Seth.
He was squaring up against a man standing opposite him, whose posture was just as aggressive. Yet his expression wasn’t angry, but smug. He was a thin, wiry man, tall, with a long, grizzled beard and the meanest glint in his eye that June had ever seen.
Trey might have been the devil himself, but he was as charming as they came in public.
This man looked familiar, and far meaner.
Suddenly, June realized it was the man who’d been standing outside the saloon that day she and the girls had gotten together.
His clothes were nice, yet his scowl showed nothing but a bitter disposition.
“That’s Thomas Turner,” Ada gasped.
June’s gaze shot to her friend. “Who?” she asked, her face scrunched in confusion.
She recognized him from the saloon, but she still wasn’t sure who he was. But if Ada looked that scared, then Turner was likely just as bad as Trey.
“Louise mentioned a troublemaker in town,” Ada explained. “A man named Thomas Turner with a reputation for stirring things up. That’s definitely him! He’s the guy who owns the saloon.”
And he was the notorious man who was now squaring up with Seth.
June’s stomach tightened as she watched the exchange.
The way Thomas stood, the mocking grin on his face, the way Seth’s shoulders were squared—it all screamed trouble.
Her experience with men like Trey had taught her to recognize danger, and every instinct she had was telling her that Turner was the kind of man who thrived on danger and violence.
“June, er–Annabelle?” Ada’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”
“Stay here,” June said quickly, handing their basket of groceries to Ada. Her heart was thundering in her chest as she walked forward, attempting to place herself between the two men.
“Get back, Annabelle!” Seth warned her, and Turner’s grin widened. June shuddered. There was something dark flashing in the man’s eyes.
Evil.
“Well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his gaze raking over her. “Didn’t know the town was hiring such pretty help. You can come on over to my saloon anytime, honey.”
June’s stomach churned with disgust—but before she could even react, Seth lunged forward, his fist connecting with Thomas’s jaw in a swift, brutal punch.
“Shut your filthy mouth!” he bellowed. He pulled back, ready to strike again, and June saw something glistening on his knuckles.
Blood.
Thomas howled in pain and spat in the dirt—the sound of a man who’d just had a tooth knocked out. He stumbled back, clutching his face.
June’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t disgusted anymore.
She was proud. What she wouldn’t have given to punch a few men just like that.
Unfortunately, the saloon owner apparently recovered quickly.
He straightened up with a glare that could cut through the earth itself.
He spat more blood onto the dirt road and pointed a finger at Seth.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he hissed. “All of you are. You think you can stop me? You think this town can stop me? You’re nothing.
This whole place is mine, whether you like it or not. I’m the wealthiest man in town!”
June eyed him with newfound worry. The Landrys were the wealthiest in town—at least, she’d thought so. Suddenly she was kicking herself for not doing more research.
One of the biggest rules for a con was knowing who she was dealing with before dealing with him; and she knew nothing about this Turner character. All she knew that the venom in his voice sent a chill down her spine. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t just a bully—he was truly not a good man.
“I ain’t gonna regret anything!” Seth snapped. “If you don’t get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna take this pistol out of my belt and show you just how good a marksman I am.”
Turner smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’ll see about that.” He threw one last look at June, smiled evilly, and puckered his lips in a mock kiss in her direction. Then he turned and strode away.
June cringed at the gesture, but it hardly mattered. “You okay?” she asked Seth, who was shaking with anger.
He never got the chance to answer.
“Oh, and by the way—” Turner yelled over his shoulder, pausing suddenly in the middle of the road. He turned around, blood still dripping from his lip. “Hazel sends her best!”
One or two bystanders let out audible gasps.
“Hazel? Who’s—?” June glanced to Seth for answers, but a chill went down her spine when she saw his expression.
His eyes were glazed, and his face was red—even redder than before.
His fists balled up so tight that she could see the whites of his knuckles, and he bit his lip down so hard that she was sure he’d draw blood.
Clearly, Hazel was someone important… to Seth.
I have to find out who—and why she matters so much to Seth.
But now wasn’t the time. “Are you okay?” she asked again as Seth’s ragged breath slowed the further Turner went away.
He turned to her. “I’m fine.” His green eyes lingered on her for a moment, as if they were searching hers. “You shouldn’t have gotten involved.” He spat on the road and the crowd started to disperse. “I can handle myself,” June said, crossing her arms.
“You’re so stubborn,” Seth growled. “I don’t doubt you can hold your own, but you’ve not messed with a guy like Turner.”
“I’ve dealt with men worse than him before,” she said, her past unintentionally seeping out. “I know exactly what they’re capable of.”
Seth’s brow furrowed at her words, but he didn’t press her. She was glad for it, and jumped at the chance to quickly change the subject before he got curious. “Let’s get back home…”
She glanced around and saw Ada, standing only a few feet away now. “Can you make sure Louise gets those groceries?”
Ada nodded. “I’ll do that.”
June watched as Seth swung around to fix his eyes on Turner’s retreating figure again. He didn’t look away until the man had disappeared back into the saloon.
Then he came wordlessly to June’s side and began walking with her, back to where their horses were tied. They wove past clusters of onlookers, many of whom were murmuring to each other, repeating the name “Hazel.”
June couldn’t stave off her curiosity any longer. As soon as they were out of earshot of the bystanders, she asked, “Who is Hazel?” Seth stopped short next to his horse. Then he shrugged. “Nothing I want to talk to you about.”
“You froze up when the guy mentioned the name. Why?”
“It’s nothing,” he said—a little too quickly.
“It didn’t sound like nothing.” June crossed her arms. She wasn’t sure why she was pushing. Maybe it was because she didn’t trust men at all, and wondered if Seth Whitman wasn’t as innocent as everyone pretended. Whatever the reason, she continued to press. “You’re hiding something.”
He turned to face her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Drop it,” he muttered, grabbing Skip’s reins. “No,” she argued, moving closer. “That man got you good, and all he had to do was say her name.”
His green eyes flashed in warning. “Some things aren't your business.”
“Everything becomes my business when you're ready to start a fight in the middle of the street!” June shot back. “Not to mention, I’m your wife!” She said it even though she knew she had no right to call herself his wife. “Who is Hazel?”
Seth whirled on her, his anger suddenly volcanic. “You think you have the right to interrogate me?”
June felt the blood drain from her face. He was right. She was asking him to be vulnerable when she was hiding everything about herself.
“I—” she started, then stopped. The hypocrisy made her choke on her own words.
Seth turned away. “We're done talking.”
And June knew, with a certainty that settled like a stone in her stomach, that she had pushed too far.
Ordinarily, she would have protested his silence. But there was a darkness in his eyes she’d never seen before… and it scared her. She closed her mouth and mounted her horse without another word.
Besides, why should he ever open up to me? She had no right to accuse anyone else of hiding things. She was hiding her entire world from Seth Whitman.