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covering the boy’s otherwise smooth face. Kid couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen, which made James a dirty old man, no matter how he cut it. He didn’t care. He plain wanted the kid. He hadn’t wanted anything as much in his life, except his freedom. And what did freedom mean when he couldn’t do with it what he wanted?
    Sarah stood, headed over to the door, and passed the kid. “He’s all yours. I was on my way out anyway.” She glanced back at James and gave him another of her sad smiles, then left.
    He hated that he’d hurt her, but there was no help for it. He’d be lying to her and himself if he fostered anything between them more than the limited carnal acts they’d shared so far.
    “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way, too, then and leave you to your…business.” Nellie glanced at James with an expression that 38
    Gigi Moore
    proved at once questioning and then knowing. She looked at the boy before she turned and left.
    “Close the door and come in,” James said.
    The kid did as ordered and took several steps into the room, still much too far away for James’ liking.
    “I’m suspecting you had a good reason for coming all this way and to Nellie’s.” The implication was clear—what was the boy doing on this side of town?—and the kid didn’t hesitate to pick up the gauntlet.
    “I don’t have a problem with black folk, never did.”
    “That’s good to know.” James hid a grin, cock throbbing hard in his pants at the boy’s gumption. He remembered that kind of bravery in his own youth. He had acted on it, in fact, when he ran away from his master and fled to Indian Territory to take up refuge with various tribes where he’d honed his firearm skills. He patted the mattress beside him. “Come here.” He used the deep, commanding voice that brooked no argument and garnered him a reputation as a hard man, fully expecting the boy to obey. When he didn’t make a move forward, however, only held his hat in front of him, nervously fiddling with the brim, it surprised James.
    He gave the boy the once-over, letting his gaze linger on his flushed face before sliding down to his clothes. The shirt and pants looked almost new compared to what he’d had on last night, though both items of clothing had a couple of cuffs rolled in them to keep them from brushing his knuckles and the floor.
    “Troy loaned ’em to me,” the kid said as if anticipating James’
    question.
    “It’s a decent improvement over last night.”
    “He’s a decent man.”
    “I’m sure he is.” James wondered how decent and whether that decentness could ever extend to him. He’d had a glimpse last evening but couldn’t dare hope that the hankerings he’d felt were mutual despite the offer of a drink. Could he?

    Three Men and a Bounty
    39
    He had never had such impossible dreams before. Why now? Was he getting that long in the tooth that he invited his own downfall?
    “I just wanted to come to thank you right and proper for what you done for me yesterday.”
    “And what did I do for you exactly?”
    The boy looked at him as if he had grown a set of horns, and James almost burst out laughing, except he didn’t want the boy to think he mocked him.
    “You saved my life.”
    James took in his wide-eyed, awe-struck expression, heart filling with some unnamable emotion. “Don’t go getting all worked up over it now. I’m no Bass Reeves.”
    “Near enough, I reckon.”
    He’d had his moments and some memorable captures in his short career, but he didn’t like bragging about any of what he did. It was all in the line of duty.
    “So, what do I call you, besides kid?”
    “Name’s Christopher Michaels. You can call me Chris.”
    “Nice to make your acquaintance, Chris. Now come here.” James watched as Chris swallowed hard before he took several steps forward, still not close enough for James’ tastes. “You afraid of me?”
    “No, sir.”
    “What’s my name?”
    “James.”
    “Then that’s