Kate looked into Victor's mean, bloodshot blue eyes and felt her heart slam against her ribs.
"Hey, numb nuts," Rob interrupted from behind Victor. "She said she doesn't want to play with you boys anymore."
Kate's gaze moved passed Turtle to Rob who stood a few feet away. A vast sense of relief calmed her speeding heart to a steady pound.
"This isn't your business," Tuttle said.
"I'm making it my business."
"Figures you'd take up for her. She's mannish, but that's probably what you like about her."
"Exactly what are you trying to say Tuttle?"
"That you're a faggot." He pointed with his thumb to Kate. "And she's your dyke."
Kate guessed that answered the question.
"That wasn't nice." Rob sighed as he took off his hat and tossed it on the pool table. "You owe Kate an apology."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll make you wish you had." He ran his fingers through the sides of his hair. "You might want to stand back, Kate."
She didn't have to be told twice. She wedged herself between the racks of pool sticks.
"I'm not afraid of you," Tuttle announced as he bobbed and wove like some sort of boxer reject. Rob stood with his hands at his sides, watching with a bemused twist of his lips. Then Tuttle finally swung, and Kate barely saw the blur of Rob's fist before it plowed into Turtle's face. Tuttle flew back, and Kate jumped out of the way an instant before he hit the wall where she'd been standing.
Tuttle slid to the floor, his gaze unfocused and glassy-eyed. "Son of a bitch!" Victor roared and launched himself at Rob. Hit with the weight of Victor's compact body, Rob staggered a few steps backward.
"I'm gonna kick your ass for that," Victor warned as he swung wildly and connected with Rob's jaw. Rob's head snapped back, then he hit Victor with a one-two jab that left the shorter man dazed but still on his feet.
Peirce ran into the room and moved to Tuttle, who was muttering incoherently. Peirce waved a hand in front of his brother's face, then he grabbed a pool stick from the wall. Before he could move, Kate stepped in front of him. "It looks like Rob's about finished with Victor. Why don't you wait your turn."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"That depends on you."
"Get out of my way, lesbo." Lesbo? Kate hadn't heard that word since grade school. The Worsley brothers obviously needed to get out more. She kept her eyes on the cue as Peirce raised it and stormed toward her, his gaze glued on Rob. Rob gave Victor one last punch, sending him to the floor. As Peirce passed, Kate stuck her foot between his big boots. Her elbow slammed into his back and he went down. On the way, he hit his head on the pool table, and he landed on the floor in a heap. He moaned and rolled onto his back, the pool cue still clutched in his hand. Within the dim light hanging overhead, he looked up, his gaze as glassy and unfocused as Turtle's.
"Well, God damn," he moaned just before his eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out.
Rob looked over at Kate, his green eyes alive and shining. "Are you okay?"
She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded.
Outside the small pool room, someone unplugged the jukebox. Over the sound of Kate's heart pounding in her ears, she heard yelling and swearing. Through the doorway, she could see broken tables and chairs and bodies flying through the air.
"Hell, yeah," Rob said and touched the red mark on his jaw. He grinned like he was having the time of his life.
"Did I miss something? Was that fun?"
He grabbed his hat and laughed, a sound of pure pleasure that mixed with the noise of breaking glass and the distant wail of police sirens.
He was insane. Crazy. A big old numb nuts.
Seven
The front of the Buckhorn Was lit up like the fourth of July. Beams of red, white, and blue slid across the facade and the patrons lined up in front. The rotating lights of three police vehicles bounced off cars in the parking lot and chased the inky shadows in the dense forest beyond. span
From inside the sheriff's Blazer, Rob looked out at everyone standing in front of the Buckhorn, his gaze taking in the two deputies as they checked for sobriety before letting anyone go. The backseat of the Blazer had no leg room, and a pair of cuffs cut into his wrist. He was uncomfortable as hell, and he might have stretched out a bit if not for the pain in the ass cuffed beside him.
He'd always known that Kate Hamilton spelled trouble. He just hadn't known how much trouble. Since she'd arrived in Gospel, she'd started that gay rumor that had some of the rednecks in town looking at him funny. He wasn't afraid. Just annoyed.
Then tonight she'd breezed into the Buckhorn and engaged three of the biggest idiots around. It'd been only a matter of time before things got ugly between her and the Worsleys and someone would have had to step in. That someone had been him, and now he was cooling his heels in the back of a cop car. To top it off, she didn't seem all that grateful.
He glanced across his shoulder at her dark profile. "You're welcome," he said.
"For what?" The lights from another squad car lit up one side of her face as she turned to look at him.
"For saving your ass."
"I figure we're even." She shook her head. "Peirce would have taken your head off with that pool cue if I hadn't stepped in and saved your ass."
"He would have tried," Rob scoffed. He'd been hit in the head a few times with hockey sticks and pucks, but he'd always been wearing his helmet. He doubted the pool cue would have knocked him out, but it would have hurt like hell. "I know you think you can do anything a man can do. That you can take care of yourself, but there's a reason why people ignore the Worsley boys. Everyone knows they don't play well with others."
She was silent a moment, then said, "Well, it would have been nice if everyone would have told me."
"I did." Rob scooted down in the seat as far as his long legs would allow. "Twice." His coat and flannel shirt fell open around him, and a chill crept across the front of his T-shirt and stomach. Nothing to do now but kick back and wait to be hauled in alongside the ingrate beside him. "I told you to call it a night and go home." He guessed he could have warned her about the Worsleys earlier, but he'd been busy trying to ignore her. Kate wasn't exactly his favorite person, and by the time he'd even noticed her with the Worsleys, she'd already sunk three balls. At that point, the best he could do was stand around and watch her play and wait for things to get out of hand.
Rob turned his attention to the front of the bar. Tuttle had called Kate mannish, which was just moronic. She was so blatantly female, with large breasts, slim waist, and long legs, that there was no way anyone would confuse her for a man. Sure she was tall, but Rob liked tall women. He liked long legs cinched tight around his waist, draped over his shoulders, and wrapped around his head. He liked the way a tall woman fit against him in and out of bed.
Watching her stretch her long body across the pool table had annoyed him even as it had turned him on. Then he'd touched her because he hadn't seemed able to stop himself. He'd touched the side of her throat and her hair. He'd fit his hand in the curve of her waist, and he'd slid his palm across her stomach. For a few seconds, he'd welcomed the hot punch of lust in his belly instead of fighting it.
Muttering from the other side of the seat drew his attention. "What?" he asked.
"I'm just wondering how long it will take to bail out of jail," she said through a sigh as she leaned her head against the window. "I don't want my grandfather to get called about this." One side of her hair fell forward and covered her face. "He's old and shouldn't have to get a call from the sheriff in the middle of the night."
"I'll bail us out." For some reason, he was starting to feel sorry for her, and he was having a hard time remembering why he didn't like her. "How much?"