Cowboys Know Best Read online

  “I’m not from these parts. Sal might know. Want some more?” He sounded amused, much to Perlita’s dismay. She blushed prettily, suddenly realizing that she had cleaned her plate and was trying to get every last drop of gravy with her tiny bite of bread. She quickly put her hands in her lap and looked down bashfully as he again chuckled at her obvious discomfort.

  “No thank you. I must look terrible. Is there anywhere you know of that I can freshen up and stay for a while?”

  “I told you, I’m not from these parts. Ok, girl, out with it. What are you running from? I’ve seen that look when I hunt. Is someone after you?” Hank’s voice harbored a touch of genuine concern, in spite of his personal disposition toward city folk. She was still a young girl who obviously was in some kind of trouble and he was too much of a gentleman to disregard it.

  “I… I think so. It’s the Piccoli family. Blood vengeance.” Perlita bit back her tears as she told him the story of how the crime syndicates' mob bosses had met to discuss territories and that her father was accused of killing off old Don Piccoli’s eldest son during a raid. It had been an accident, she explained. Joe Piccoli was a known ‘player’ who had tried to force her into marriage, using their fathers’ connections from back in Italy as a means to gain her hand. She had adamantly refused him, repelled by his lewdness, stupidity, sadistic nature, and disgusting lack of personal hygiene. Angry with her rejection, he had gotten himself drunk and stumbled into a crossfire. Don Piccoli, insulted and embarrassed, swore that the Moretti family would grieve to the last drop of their blood. He severed the longstanding relationship that the two families had shared and, one by one, started killing off her father’s men. The final strike had occurred the night before when the Piccoli goons penetrated the mansion’s defenses and eliminated every remaining member of her family, except for her..

  “Sorry to hear that, ma’am. Not much for birthdays or parties myself, but I s’pose a gal of your refinement goes for those things,” he scoffed, trying to be polite. He didn’t believe her wild story for a second, and he was truly disinterested in the fantasy she was obviously creating to gain his sympathy.

  “You don’t know me, Mr. Billings. You can’t judge who I am by how I was raised. My life has been nothing but happy isolation. I… I never thought they would try to murder me,” she blurted out, tears welling in her dark eyes. “Babbo—my father—was old school and never went after women or children, but something has changed. I’ve known Don Piccoli my entire life. He was like an uncle to me. I never thought I would have to defend myself against him.” She swallowed her tears. “This is the first time I’ve ever been outside the city. Or alone. I… I don’t know what to do. I’m so scared. I need help,” she forced out shamefully.

  He eyed her like he would when sizing up a horse, studying her features carefully. Her smooth hands had never seen a lick of work, and her olive skin was sun-kissed just enough to give it a bronzed glow. She was, in his opinion, painfully thin and needed some beefing up in all the right places. Her eyes, framed in long, sooty lashes, reminded him of an oil slick—they were the darkest he had ever seen and they shimmered in the morning light.

  “What are your plans? Are you going to keep traveling dressed like you’re taking in a show?” Hank asked, sipping his coffee, still amused by the fairy tale she was spinning.

  Perlita frowned. “You don’t believe me! Those men killed my father and my uncle. They are after me now! Don’t you understand, you bull-headed oaf? They won’t stop until I’m dead.”

  Hank started to laugh, and reached across to pat her hand. “Ease up with the temper, Miss Perl. I doubt they’ll be able to track you here.”

  “Don’t underestimate these men. You talked about hunting… they are the fiercest hunters you will ever face,” she warned, accepting another cup of steaming hot coffee.

  “Well, if they show up, I’ll be sure to let them know that they aren’t welcome, ok?”

  “I still get the impression that you aren’t taking me seriously, Mr. Billings.”

  “And I get the impression that you are quite the little storyteller and probably ran away from home because you didn’t get your way. You’ve had your fun so why don’t you just turn around and go home to your diamonds and parties. Pleasure meeting you.” Hank unceremoniously picked up his Stetson and walked toward the door. He turned as Perlita grabbed his sleeve.

  “Are you as stupid as you look? Those men are after me!” Perlita hissed. She rolled her eyes. “Listen, Mr. Billings, I have money. I’ll pay you to take me with you. I need to get to Vegas but they know what my car looks like. Please!”

  She sounded desperate and frightened, two traits Hank could do without to complicate his life.

  “Sorry, ma’am, but I don’t need your money or the trouble.” He started walking to his truck. Furious, Perlita picked up a rock and threw it at him, striking him in the back. He ignored her until she picked up a bigger one, this time knocking off his hat. Slowly, he reached down to pick up the Stetson, brushed it off carefully, and then turned to look at her. “It’s one thing when you mess with me, Miss Perl. But my hat didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Take me with you!” she demanded, marching up to him and staring up into his face.

  “I have things to do and they don’t concern you. Don’t you know what the word ‘no’ means?”

  “Please. I need help.” Tears sprung from her eyes. Hank frowned, seeing her struggle not to cry in front of him. She was a feisty little thing, that was for sure.

  “What you need, lady, is a good tanning. I said no.”

  Frustrated, Perlita kicked his shin with all her might, landing the solid toe of her shoe right above the top of his boot. Hank’s eyes darkened. The girl was either truly desperate or very stupid. He decided on the former. No one in their right mind would have dared such a thing otherwise.

  “I owe you for that.”

  “Then I’ll pay later. Please help me,” Perl begged.

  Neither of them saw the large black vehicle roll to a stop next to Perl’s car, or the three men who charged into the diner, guns drawn. Both turned their heads in the diner’s direction as screams erupted from inside. Hank shoved Perl behind his truck and placed his finger on his lips, quietly sneaking around the back.

  “Plant your duffs right there! You, doll, on the floor! We’re looking for the driver of that pretty red car out there. Anyone seen her?” a shout boomed across the room. With revolver in hand, Hank inched along the wall and around the corner, giving him a clear view of a dark-suited, broken nosed man who pointed a long gun at the small crowd. A shot rang out from a second unseen assailant and a woman screamed. “Told ya, no heroes! Guido, shut that dame up!”

  “Who are you looking for, gentlemen?” Hank asked calmly, his gun aimed straight at the chest of the closest hit man. Before either goon could react to the surprise of a faceoff, two shots were fired from Hank’s revolver and two of Don Piccoli’s men were on the floor. Screams continued from the women as they stared at the bodies, carrying on like there was no tomorrow. Hank grunted, once again convinced that city women were, indeed, useless.

  “They’re dead, for Pete’s sake. Stop your caterwauling,” he ordered with annoyance. “Someone ring the sheriff and get these bodies hauled out of here.”

  The diner’s proprietor gingerly stepped over the bodies as he angrily approached Hank. “You and your lady friend are trouble, mister. These men have friends and I don’t want to invite more problems. Get out of my place and don’t show your face again.”

  “Well, that’s a fine thank you. Good day,” Hank huffed, his general dislike for people reinforced. He peeked under his truck at the cringing young woman. “Get your behind into the cab and I don’t want to hear a sound out of you,” he growled.

  Perl noticed his limp as he pulled himself into the truck and waited for her to settle.

  “Thank you, Mr. Billings. I’m sorry I kicked you so hard.”

  “You won’t be thanking me later, M
iss Perl. Trust me, I won’t forget this little insult.”

  “Where are we going?” Perl asked nervously, suddenly realizing that she was alone with this big, brooding stranger.

  Hank looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He ignored the flutter of his heart as he took in her disheveled but incredibly enticing appearance. No, she’s trouble, you idiot…

  “I was thinking the sheriff, but things have changed a lot since I lived here and frankly, I don’t trust local law enforcement this close to the city. I have a better idea. Sit tight and we’ll be there soon.”

  Chapter Two

  Silently they drove further west and onto some dirt roads. Perlita stayed quiet, looking fearfully behind them as they traveled, drawing her legs to her chest and holding them tightly as she tried to soothe her tormented nerves. Her companion was no help, making it clear to her that his assistance was reluctant and any conversation would not be offered amicably. Several hours later, they pulled up to a majestic old farm house, with a front yard filled with big, blooming roses and trellises heavy with ivy.

  “Where are we?” she asked, following him out without invitation.

  Hank glowered at her. “This is my grandmother’s house. You best be respectful of her and keep that mouth of yours quiet. She doesn’t need to know the kind of mess you’re in, got it? She will just worry and then try to interfere. The woman does not know how to mind her own beeswax and it always brings about a headache for me.”

  Perlita simply nodded as she followed him inside the quaintly decorated old house. He walked into the sitting room and kissed the old lady who sat bundled in a rocking chair.

  “I’m back, Nana. Got the rest of the supplies you needed.”

  “Thank you, Henry darling. Oh? Company? Let me make some tea.”

  “No, ma’am. You sit there. I’ll put a kettle on. This is Miss Perlita Moretti. Miss Perl, this is Nana Gretchen.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gretchen, ma’am,” Perlita said respectfully.

  Nana beckoned to her, putting her spectacles on. “Call me Nana, everyone does. My, my, you are a pretty little thing. So exotic. Italian? Where did you find her, Henry?”

  “Making trouble for the diner. She’s from the city,” Hank’s low voice was heard from the kitchen. “I’m just dropping her off on the way home.”

  “Dear girl, don’t you mind him. He’s a grouchy one, just like his grandpapa. Henry? Bring her some food!”

  “I’m not hungry, Nana, I just ate. But thank you. Do you mind if I, well… I need to freshen up a bit.”

  “Henry! Get the child something to wear and show her where she can bathe! Where are your manners?”

  Hank looked frustrated as he appeared from the other room. “Nana, I just got here ten minutes ago and I was making your tea, I…”

  “No excuses, boy. Take care of your guest. Snap to it! Show some of that Texas hospitality you always boast about,” the old lady commanded. Perlita suppressed her smile as she saw the big, burly man become flustered.

  “Just where am I to get clothes that’ll fit her? Nana…”

  “Do you need to cut a switch to get you to mind me? Off with you now!”

  Grumbling, Hank disappeared, leaving the two ladies alone. Nana turned to Perlita with a grin and a wink. “Gotta let them boys know who really runs the house, honey. Give him time, and you’ll grow to love him. He’s a good boy, my favorite in fact, but I just can’t get him to leave me once he comes by. He worries too much. Also gets underfoot. I like my independence. Been pestering me forever to come down south and live with him.”

  Perl felt a kindred spirit in this old woman, liking her immensely. “I don’t plan on being around that long. I have to get to Las Vegas.”

  “Now, why would a pretty thing like you go to such a sinful place? Are you one of them dancing showgirls?” Nana looked at her suspiciously.

  “No, ma’am. I have… family there waiting for me. Do you live here alone?” Perlita asked, eager to change the subject.

  “My, no! I’ve got Bessie and her beau, but she is getting on in years and can’t be hauling the heavy supplies down to the cellar. My Henry comes here every few months to stock me up and pay me the honor of his grumpy company. Like I said, once he’s here, I can’t get him to leave. He’s as stubborn as an old mule.”

  “I would think a mule would be a better conversationalist than that man,” Perlita mumbled under her breath, glancing in the direction the man had gone.

  “My hearing is quite good, my dear. That’s how I always knew when my young ‘uns were into something they shouldn’t be. So, what has that boy done to raise your ire? Never mind, you don’t have to tell me. He’s a growler, that’s enough. Watch this and learn well… I’ll have him ready to go back home by the end of today and have him happy to take you wherever you need to go,” the old lady chuckled. “Henry! Where is my tea?”

  “Nana, you sent him to find me clothes,” Perlita reminded her.

  Nana loudly tapped her cane on the wooden floor, ignoring Perlita. “HENRY!”

  “I was upstairs, Nana. What do you need?” Hank looked even more frustrated as he handed Perlita a bundle of clothes. “I found some old things of Becky’s…”

  “Why are you rummaging through Becky’s drawers, boy? Where’s my tea?”

  Growling under his breath, Hank stomped into the kitchen. Nana tapped Perlita with the tip of her cane, winking. “One good thing about getting old, honey. I can send that boy up a tree and he won’t say a word against me. Thinks I’m befuddled in the head.”

  “You… oh, I must remember that trick,” Perlita giggled.

  “It only works when you get old or are with child. You can get them running hard then. Keeps them in line. HENRY!”

  “Here, Nana. Just how you like it. With fresh cream.”

  “What’s this?” the old woman scowled, poking at the cup and fighting to hide the grin when she saw her beloved grandson’s confusion.

  “It’s your tea. You…”

  “I told you to get this girl comfortable. Why are you standing around making tea like an old woman. Henry, I worry about you, boy! Take her upstairs and show her the tub. Stop your dawdling!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Hank groaned, leading the way. Perlita turned to look at the old lady with a smile and received a wink. Yes, she must remember that trick!

  Perlita rejoined Nana in the sitting room after cleaning up and dressing in tight fitting denim trousers, an oversized flannel shirt, and some boots which fit remarkably well. She had pulled her long black hair back into a loose ponytail and wiped off any remnants of rouge and lip tint from her face. Her cross still adorned her neck and she fiddled with it nervously. Hank’s eyebrows rose as she rejoined them, suddenly noticing how attractive the young woman was. Nor did his eyes miss the ease with which her plump bottom filled out Becky’s old trousers. Perlita grinned as Nana cracked him on the shin with her cane.

  “Stop staring and stand up when a lady enters the room, young man. You were taught better manners than that. What is wrong with you?”

  “I would if I saw a lady,” Hank mumbled. “OW!”

  The old woman held out her solid cane to prepare to rap him on the head a second time. “My hearing is still working, boy. And you are to keep a civil tongue in your mouth and act the gentleman while in my home. Apologize to our guest this instant.”

  “I apologize, Miss Perl” Hank growled, eyes narrowed as the girl sat comfortably next to his grandmother and promptly ignored him.

  Nana cracked him again on the leg with her cane. “I thought I told you to make me some tea?”

  “I did! Nana…”

  “NOW!”

  “You just keep him jumping, don’t you? Thank you for the shower and the clothes. I can pay you…” Perl giggled as the irritated man stomped away.

  “Must I whollup you with this cane too? Those clothes were his cousin Becky’s. She left them here when she got herself a man. Henry!!! My tea!!! This makes him leave sooner,
” Nana whispered with a snicker. “He’s been here nearly a month now and is wearing out his welcome.”

  “I’m coming. Nana, I need to unload the truck and then I gotta get going. When are Bessie and William due in?” Hank scowled.

  “By supper. Thank you. Did you get some for Miss Perl?”

  “Would you like some tea, Miss Perl?” Hank asked with a sneer, even more anxious to leave for the peace and quiet of his ranch, maybe even do some hunting on the way down instead of being bothered by more people.

  “No thank you. Would you like some help unloading the truck?”

  “Nonsense, child. You stay and keep me company. It’s nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t snarl at me like an old bear with a splinter in its paw…” Nana called out after Hank as he marched off, once again grumbling under his breath. “He’s gone. What type of trouble are you in, girl, and how can I help you?”

  Slowly, Perlita explained her predicament, including Hank’s continued disbelief of her father’s involvement with the mob, in spite of what he had witnessed. Tears threatened to fall from the girl’s eyes as she shared the horror of seeing her father being gunned down, the murder of the household servants and the final goodbye of her cherished ‘Zio’. She began to weep as she expressed her fear and inability to function in a world which she had never been prepared to live in. Nana tapped her chin thoughtfully and held out her arms for the sobbing girl.

  “Come to Nana, child. You poor thing,” the old woman said, patting Perl on the back and stroking her hair, “You’re not alone anymore. The Good Lord placed you in Henry’s path to protect you. He’s got a good, kind heart under that grumpy frown. It just needs an opportunity for someone to help bring it out. Now, if you don’t mind me saying so, those men will follow you to where your father did his business. Go with Henry to the ranch. He and the hands will keep you safe.”