Training Part 10

It had been a few days since Actor's stitches had been removed. He had also removed Chief's at that time. Goniff was up and around, but his arm was still in a sling and it would be a couple more weeks before the little pickpocket was well enough to go out on missions. Terry continued to use her arm, much to the confidence man's chagrin.

Craig watched her like a hawk. It was rare that he had so many of his group injured at the same time. He couldn't help feeling responsible; after all, he was in charge. There was nothing he could do about his men going on the missions; it was what they were here for. His sister was a different matter. He truly liked having her around, but it was dangerous for her on the missions. Oh, she functioned fine, and there was a lot she knew and was learning, but there was a lot she didn't know. That was what worried him. So it was with this uppermost in his mind that he called Terry into his office.

Terry was immediately on the alert. She knew the nuances of her brother's voice and figured she was in for trouble. Preceding him into his office she watched the officer take a seat behind his desk and look up at her like he would do with his men. Terry sucked in a cheek and gave him a hard look.

"Okay, Craig, what's eating you now?"

"I want you off these missions," replied Garrison.

"Don't start that again," said Terry with disgust. "What is it I did wrong? Hmm? Nothing that I can see . . . besides getting shot and that wasn't my fault."

"You got shot. Isn't that enough?" demanded her brother.

"So, you get shot a lot more than I do. Heck, Actor gets it more than the two of us."

"You're not trained adequately," said Craig, knowing he was in a losing battle and battle it would be.

"Not trained?" demanded Terry, voice raising. "I got us out of there and to the pickup without any problem didn't I? What trained?"

"You're learning from the men. That's on the job training and war is no place for on the job training!" returned Craig, hotly.

"Yeah, like they knew what they were doing when you got them out of prison?" Terry threw back at him. "You had to teach them . . . on the job! Besides, if you and they can't train me, then who can?"

"You're going to get one of them or yourself killed," said Craig, getting to the heart of the matter.

Terry's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare blame me for them getting hurt. I took a bullet for Actor. I'd take a bullet for any one of them, you included."

"I'm not questioning your bravery."

"Oh screw bravery," exploded Terry. "We're supposed to be a team. We cover each other's backs. It has nothing to do with bravery, it has to do with loyalty. You know what that is, Brother?" She immediately slumped and held up a hand to stop him from replying. "Forget I said that. I know you do." Terry looked at him with frustration. "You think I don't worry about you out there? You can get a little gung ho there, Boy."

"Terry, you don't belong in combat. I'm a man, that's different." said Craig wearily.

"I am not on the front lines, so I don't consider that combat. And what difference does it make what gender we are? I can't see where the number of appendages we have has any bearing on anything." The glare she received from him had her shaking her head.

"I'm not trying to get you to leave us," he tried for a calmer voice. "You can stay and take care of things here like you've been doing. You know, take care of the house and tend the wounds. Things a woman should be doing."

"Oh, I get it," said Terry in a way he knew wasn't the way he meant. "You want a built –in maid and nurse. Well the Army ain't gonna buy that one. And I don't either. Blast you, Craig Garrison! I was breaking horses by the time I was thirteen. We grew up on a working ranch, remember? There wasn't any room for sitting around the house eating bon bons. I can work horses and brand and cut cattle if I have to. Chris can too for that matter and she's the only one of us girls who is probably cut out for being a good wife and mother. I'm not ready for that role yet. And your sister is a frickin' lunatic when it comes to running the Bar G."

Craig tried to take control back. "We're not talking about Chris or Cinder. We're talking about you. I don't want you getting killed."

"I don't want you getting killed either!" Terry started pacing. "But I don't try to make you accept a promotion and get a nice safe desk job! With your brains, you ought to be in Washington with Dad."

"Hah!" That was the last thing Craig wanted was to become a desk jockey.

"Hah back at you!"

Craig looked at blazing green eyes. He hadn't seen Terry this angry in a long time. He tried again. "Terry, I am not taking you on the missions anymore. We don't need you."

"Oh?" she fired back. "And what does Actor have to say about it? I'm partnered with him remember. Casino'd look awful darn funny in a dress and heels."

If he hadn't been so angry right now, Craig would have found that amusing considering he had seen Casino in a dress on the Micklenburg mission. "Actor got along without you before and he can get along without you now. And he will do what I say. Bottom line, Terry? No . . . more . . . missions!"

In a quieter, but just as firm voice, she said, "I told you before what I would do if you throw me out. You aren't going to get me to stop going in. I would just rather do it with them," she jerked her head toward the other room, "than with another group. So will you just quit this, Craig? Please?"

"You're not trained enough," replied her brother with his characteristic bulldog stubbornness.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Brother!"

She turned and stalked out of the room. Craig followed her to the door and watched her continue to stalk up the stairs. He ignored the pregnant silence behind him and went back into his office, shutting the door forcefully.

GGGGG

Actor gave Teresa a few hours to calm down. She had come back downstairs in old clothes, not even bothering to acknowledge the men, and gone out the back door. Seeing as he had been drawn into this battle, he felt he now had to take the side of the lieutenant. Maybe his approach would reach the girl better than a head on collision. So why did he feel like what he was going to do was wrong?

Terry straightened from pulling weeds in the vegetable garden and turned to look at the approach of the con man. The look on his face was thoughtful and concerned. Now what? She was yanking the weeds out of the dirt with the idea of each being her brother's neck, despite the pain in her arm. What was it, Actor's turn now? Of course, Craig knew she tended to listen to the Italian more than she did her brother.

Actor stepped with care between the mounded rows waiting for the anticipated vegetable seeds, to stand on the other side of the onion set row. It was like a spiky green demarcation line between the two.

"Actor, I'm warning you, I am not in a good mood right now." Terry's eyes were without the slight warmth she had reserved for the older man.

"I am aware of that," said Actor. He looked down at her with a calm smile. "I still wish to speak with you."

Terry eyed him silently and sourly for several seconds before dropping the handful of weeds on the ground next to the onions. "Okay." She turned and walked down between the rows to the gazebo and mounted the steps to the shady interior. Instead of sitting on the bench, he found her turned to face him, arms crossed defiantly in front of her.

Actor stopped before her and looked down at her, an inscrutable expression on his face. He got right to the point, but his tone was gentle. "I heard your conversation with the lieutenant."

"I'm sure all of you did," replied Terry, not giving an inch.

"I am afraid I must agree with him," admitted the con man. "I do not want you coming on the missions with us anymore."

That hit her like a knife, but she wasn't about to let him know that. "Really?" said Terry with a tinge of sarcasm. "And here I thought you were enjoying playing the cons with me. How silly of me."

Actor paused and sucked in his cheeks to take a moment before replying to that. "I do enjoy working a con with you. You have become very good at it." There was a tiny pause. " And you are one of the few partners I have had that I can trust." This was not easy for him to admit.

"But?" Terry wasn't giving him an inch.

"But, it is entirely too dangerous." Actor turned his eyes away from her and stepped to the side, left hand fiddling with his right sleeve cuff, looking out of the latticework toward the old stable. "You have been injured twice; once through my negligence and once because I could not do my job. I do not want this on my conscience. I do not wish to see you get hurt again or killed, especially on my account."

Terry stared at his back. Was he saying he cared about her? Don't be ridiculous she chided herself. Actor didn't care about anyone except Actor. He was the best confidence man in all Europe, so of course he could make himself sound sincere. Craig had just put him up to trying to make her feel guilty and agree to quit. She looked at the slightly bowed head and hardened her resolve. Damn the man was good.

"You are not in any way responsible for my being injured," said Terry in a moderate voice, "and you know it."

The Italian's head came up and turned to lock hazel eyes with her green ones. He kept his eyes carefully expressionless. Terry had put on a small disdainful smile.

"You better watch what you say, Actor," she said coolly. "Someone might hear you and think you actually give a damn."

She strode past him, out of the gazebo and toward the house.

G

Actor leaned an outstretched arm against the wooden door frame of the gazebo and watched the young woman stride across the yard to the kitchen door. The stiff set of her shoulders bespoke anger, defiance and . . . pain. It had been his intention to never cause the young woman any pain. The fact that he had bothered him greatly, even though rationally he knew it might mean the difference between her living and dying.

What was happening to him? Why was he so concerned about Teresa Garrison? He had learned a long time ago to only worry about himself. If you allowed yourself to be concerned about other people, it put you in danger, of getting caught, of being manipulated . . . of being hurt. But he did care. When the Warden was incapacitated and Actor was in charge of the group, he worried about the men. He worried a lot. It scared him. It reeked of responsibility. Responsibility for three other human beings, sometimes four if Teresa was there. Responsibility for the mission, for getting the information out safely, which made him responsible for the lives of people he didn't even know. However, in turn, it gave him a feeling of self-worth; something that had been driven from him by his father. And that lack of self worth was carefully hidden behind the arrogant demeanor that was 'Actor'. He veered away from that line of thinking.

Getting back to Teresa, she had been handed to him with the orders to turn her into a confidence woman. He had done it because it was his job. But that wasn't entirely true. She was aggravating, annoying, and had fought him most of the way. Ah, but when she ceased fighting, she was everything he could want in a working partner. They were rapidly reaching the point that they could communicate without talking. He could suddenly change the con and she could follow him. And she was reaching a stage where she could change the con if necessary and know he would follow her. It was intoxicating and exhilarating. He had worked with women before on rare occasions. The ones he had worked with had been good, but nothing to what Teresa was or could be. They were still perfecting her con and with a little time and effort, she could probably be one of the best in Europe. So why was he now trying to get rid of her?

What was her parting shot? "You better watch what you say, Actor. Someone might hear you and think you actually give a damn'? Merde! Had he allowed her to get that close? The answer could only be yes. His mind flashed back to opening the door of that building and finding Teresa on the floor with that cinghiale on top of her. He remembered the rage that had coursed through his whole being and what he had done. Oh yes, he cared. And that thought scared him too. He straightened and took some deep calming breaths, pushing the emotions evoked down where they could do no harm. It would be better for both of them if Teresa disappeared from his life.

Terry pushed through the door into the kitchen, allowing it to slam shut behind her, and headed for the stairs. She was halfway up when Garrison came to the doorway of his office. Terry paused and took in the four silent faces that were watching her. She focused on her brother.

"Nice try, Craig," said Terry. "Who are you going to send to talk to me next? Because right now I might just pop the next one of you who opens a mouth to me. If you want dinner tonight you best be leaving me alone." She took a step up before pausing, one hand on the railing to look hard at Garrison. "And you might take into consideration, if you get rid of me, you'll all be back to eating Spam out of the can." With that she turned and trotted up the stairs to her room.

The eyes of the three cons exchanged looks. Garrison just shook his head. The officer looked up as his oldest member came more sedately around the corner from the dining room.

"And what was that about?" asked Garrison, crossing his arms.

Actor gestured in defeat. "I attempted to talk some sense into her."

"Didn't get very far, did you?" said Craig, knowingly.

"Not even close, Warden," admitted the Italian.

Craig turned and disappeared into his office, while Actor started toward his chair.

Casino chortled and spoke to the others in the common room. "Finally found someone besides a judge he can't con."

The safecracker wasn't ready for the strong fist that connected with his jaw and sent him and the chair he was in falling backward. Garrison was back in the doorway in time to see Actor, standing over the safecracker, grab Casino by the shirtfront and lift him up with his other arm cocked back, hand in a fist, ready to strike again.

"That's enough! Knock it off!" shouted Craig.

"That is precisely what I am trying to do," snarled the confidence man.

"Actor, cool off! Casino, shut up!" ordered the officer with anger.

Both men froze, Casino's fist now primed to swing at the Italian. The combatants looked at Garrison and decided the wrath of the officer wasn't worth the satisfaction of hitting each other. Actor released his hold on Casino and straightened to adjust his clothing into dignified order. Casino rose from the floor and picked up his chair. The two cons glared at each other and turned away, Actor going to his chair and Casino taking a seat at the table again.

Garrison turned on his heels and went back into his office, shutting the door firmly behind him. He stopped and ran a hand through his sandy hair. He was beginning to wish he had not started this mess with Terry. There was no way he could back down now, not and keep face with his men.

None of them saw Christine on the staircase. She turned and went back upstairs to her sister's bedroom. She let herself in and closed the door quietly behind her. Terry was changing into clean brown trousers and a soft cream-colored embroidered sweater.

"So what was that?" the older girl asked automatically, with barely any interest.

"That was Actor and Casino fighting," said Chris.

Terry snorted. "Actor this time? I hope Casino decked him." As she said the words, she knew she didn't mean them.

"No, actually Actor had Casino on the floor."

Crystal stayed out of her sister's way and just observed. Terry was angry, but settling down as was usual with her temper. She pulled the duffle bag out, tossing it onto the bed and began pulling clothes from the armoire.

"Will you make dinner for them tonight?" asked the older girl.

"I can," replied Chris. "Aren't you eating?"

"No." Terry was folding and rolling clothes up and putting them in her bag.

Chris spoke in a deceptively casual voice. "Coming back any time soon?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Just depends."

Terry tied the duffle shut and hefted it over her left shoulder. Her right arm was aching. Christine stepped back and held the door open, watching her sister stride out. She followed to the top of the stairs.

The men looked up as she descended, Actor concerned, Goniff worried, Chief watchful, and Casino wary.

"Where you goin', Babe?" asked the safecracker.

Terry paused. "Away from here."

Garrison came to the door. His middle sister fixed him with a stony look.

"Terry, I don't want you going to France!" said Craig firmly.

"Right now, I'm going to my flat. I work the bar tonight and want to take that dress to the cleaners before they close," replied the girl. Her voice became firmer. "Where I go and what I do from there is none of your business. I am no longer your 'responsibility'." She turned to the men, "Or yours."

"Teresa . . ." began Actor.

"Don't," she said sharply. "You've had your say. I get the picture."

She continued down the stairs, paused at the coat tree and lifted Casino's bomber jacket from it. For once the man kept his mouth shut. She tossed the jacket over her right forearm one-handedly and went out the front door, shutting it without slamming it.

The men were froze in silence until they heard the motorcycle start up and fade away down the driveway.

"Terrific," said Casino in disgust. "That went real well."

"Lieutenant, when she has had time to settle her mind, I could go in to Brandonshire and attempt to talk with her," offered Actor somewhat dubiously.

"No," Craig shook his head. "She'd probably just knife you."