"I have a warrant on my desk requesting your return to Pittsburgh. "
Larry wrenched his arm away and swung his cuffed wrist at the sheriff. The sheriff sidestepped the flailing metal and shot his fist up under Larry's guard. The blow snapped Larry's head back, but instead of buckling his knees, it enraged the man. He fought like he was fighting for his life, but Boyd and the sheriff out-muscled him. With an enraged growl, he lunged for Anna.
The sheriff grabbed Larry's wrists and dragged his arms behind his back. Boyd helped his brother take Larry to the floor. The sheriff pinned him with a knee in his back and finished snapping the cuffs on him.
All three men were covered in snow when the sheriff hauled Larry to his feet.
Steam left his nose in angry bursts as he glared at Anna. "I'll be back." He gritted his teeth as the sheriff and Boyd nudged him down the steps and marched him toward town.
When they returned thirty minutes later, Claire and Anna were huddled near the kitchen stove, trying to shed the chill and fear that had left them both shaking. Anna was holding a snow pack to her cheek.
"Are you ladies all right?" the sheriff asked.
Claire nodded, but she knew Boyd could see through her bravado.
The sheriff's keen eyes studied Anna, as if checking for injuries. "Larry won't be bothering you again," he said. "I'm taking him back to Pittsburgh tomorrow where he'll be tried for the murder of two men."
"Two?" Claire cut her eyes to Anna.
Anna lowered her lashes. "Larry shot the deputy sheriff when the man tried to take him to jail," she said, her voice quavering.
Claire sighed, wondering how much worse the situation could get. "I'm afraid I have another problem, Sheriff. Someone ransacked my house this afternoon while Anna and I were marching."
"Why didn't you come get me?" Boyd asked, his scowl full of concern.
The sheriff frowned and followed her into the foyer. "Was anything stolen?"
"Not that I can tell, but as you see," she said, gesturing to the papers spilling from the open desk drawers, "I haven't put things in order yet."
She took Boyd and the sheriff through the house to show them the extent of the intrusion, then returned to the foyer.
"What were they looking for?" the sheriff asked.
"I have no idea," she said, feeling exhausted. "I have no valuables, and they didn't take my money."
The sheriff scanned her desk with a distant look on his face that suggested he was taking in the whole of her house, thinking, mulling over the possibilities of who had done it and why.
Boyd eyed the door and splintered frame. "I'll get some wood and tools to fix this," he said, wrenching open the door before bolting into the cold.
"What's the trouble between you and Larry?" the sheriff asked Anna.
She lowered her hand and sighed. "I didn't want to stay in our apartment alone while he was in jail."
Claire bit her tongue. She understood Anna's hesitation to pour out her troubles to the sheriff, but who else was going to help her? Larry had made it painfully clear that Claire would pay a high price if she continued to shelter Anna. They had no choice but to ask the sheriff for help.
Anna may be too frightened to reveal the ugly truth about her brute of a husband, but Claire wasn't. "Larry is a violent man," Claire said. "He has hurt Anna, and could easily kill her the next time he beats her. Believe me, there's always a next time, Sheriff."
Sympathy filled his eyes. "I don't condone Larry's treatment of you, Anna, but by law, a husband has the right to bring his wife home if he chooses."
Claire slapped her palm on the desktop with a loud crack. "No law should force a woman to stay with a man who beats her." She clenched her fists, suddenly furious enough to march to the jail and hit Larry over the head with a liquor bottle. "Anna cannot go back to that bully. If he dares darken my door again, I'll...I'll shoot him." Speaking the words felt wonderfully freeing, but inside, Claire trembled with doubt. She could never defend herself against a violent man like Larry.
She'd been defenseless in the face of Jack's rage. Larry terrified her. Boyd's anger had frightened her too. If he ever turned that rage on a woman, the damage would be worlds worse than Jack had ever inflicted. Yet, Boyd's strength had saved her and Anna this evening. He'd protected her.
"You ladies stay inside tonight. Your marches have upset a lot of men, especially this week with your push to get their licenses revoked. Someone has broken into your home, and it may not have been Larry. I'm going to rent a room from you tonight so I can keep an eye on things."
She exchanged a glance with Anna, who looked relieved. Having the sheriff under her roof would allow Claire to sleep better too. "That would be generous of you, Sheriff. I'll make up the blue room for you, but you certainly won't be paying for it."
"Generous of you, too, Mrs. Ashier. I'll have my deputy keep an eye on Larry tonight. I'll be back later this evening."
The instant he stepped outside, Anna burst into tears, "Larry will find a way to come back here. He will. And he'll kill me next time."
o0o
After Boyd finished repairing Claire's door, he went to the kitchen, needing to be certain the women were both unharmed. "Where's Anna?"
"In bed with a snow pack on her shoulder." Claire crossed to the stove.
Boyd could see that her gait was stiff and she favored her left side. Anger surged through him and he ached to avenge the insults Larry had inflicted on the women. "Why the devil did you put yourself in the middle of this mess with Anna?"
She stared at him as if he'd gone daft. "How could I not? I couldn't turn her away any more than you could stop from interceding when Larry was dragging her off the porch."
"It's different for a man to step into a dangerous situation like that. It's foolish for you to put yourself in jeopardy."
"Foolish?" She planted her hands on her hips and winced as if it pained her. "What is foolish about giving a beaten woman a safe place to stay? What is foolish about trying to help a friend?"
"Claire," he said, trying to reason with her, "you can't save Anna. She must have family who can help her."
"She's ashamed to tell her family about Larry."
"What's to be ashamed of? Larry is the one with the shameful behavior."
"No woman wants to admit that her husband beats her, and that she made a dreadful mistake marrying him."
"Anna's life is more important than her pride."
"Of course it is, but if Anna goes to her family for help, they'll have to defend her. She's afraid that Larry will hurt them."
"What about your safety? Why didn't she consider that when she led Larry to your door?"
"She had no idea that Larry would have her followed. He didn't know me. Anna thought we'd both be safe here."
"Well, you're not."
"I know."
"You need to send her to her family, Claire."
"I can't."
He clenched his teeth to bite off his curse. "You're getting involved in a situation that is going to get you hurt. Or worse. Dead."
"I know exactly what the danger is. That's why I'm giving Anna a place to stay. If I don't, it's quite possible she'll end up dead."
Boyd froze. How could she know the danger unless...He pinched the bridge of his nose, sickened by the thought, furious with the situation and Claire's stubbornness. "I'd like to talk with Anna tomorrow."
"I won't change my mind about letting her stay here."
"Well, I'm afraid Larry, or one of those men you're irritating with your temperance nonsense, will try to change it for you."
He stepped outside and slammed the door, his body shaking with fury. The damned woman was just begging for trouble. She had just tangled with a murderer. She could have been killed!
Worry tightened Boyd's chest, and he knew he was in trouble. He cared too much for Claire, had gotten in too deep to walk away from her and her crazy life.
Chapter Sixteen
At five o'clock Tuesday morning, Clai
re wrapped her heavy velvet robe around herself and crept down to the kitchen. Shivering, she opened the thick iron door of the stove and quietly built up the fire, wanting to have the kitchen heated and coffee on before the sheriff or Anna got up.
It was the least she could do in return for the sheriff's kindness. He came in late last evening while she and Anna were getting ready for bed. He apologized for keeping her waiting, then checked the doors and went to bed.
The aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the percolating pot, and she huddled close to the stove, loving the quiet morning and the homey feel of her grandmother's kitchen.
But she no longer felt safe here.
How long would Larry stay in jail this time? Knowing he could beat on her door at any moment terrified her. Boyd was right. Even if Duke planned to transport him to Pittsburgh for trial and incarceration, Larry wasn't going to give up and go away. She'd lain awake most of the night imagining every horrible possibility. What if he broke out of jail again and came back when the sheriff and Boyd weren't here?
She moved closer to the stove, regretting the dreadful mess she'd gotten into. How she longed to return to the safe, solitary life she'd begun building before Anna came seeking sanctuary. But that life hadn't included her new friendship with Anna, and Anna's desperate need.
She couldn't ask Anna to leave.
If her financial situation didn't improve, though, she and Anna might find themselves on the street. Without a paying boarder soon, she wouldn't be able to afford wood for her stove, or coffee for her breakfast.
The crackling fire and the percolating coffee soothed her. She would face each day as it came, and do what she must to survive. Pray God she would never have to sell her grandmother's house; it was the first and only home she'd known in many long years.
The hurried tread of feet on the oak floor startled her. She expected to see Anna rushing into the kitchen, but to her astonishment, Sheriff Grayson stepped through the doorway, revolver drawn, eyes squinted against the lantern light illuminating the room.
He wore ankle-length cotton drawers and nothing else.
Over six feet of nearly naked male stood before her. She was so transfixed with the muscles shifting in his bare chest and arms, she could barely speak. "G-good morning, Sheriff."
His eyes widened, and he spun to face her. "I beg your pardon," he said, his voice gruff from sleep. "I heard a noise down here and thought someone was forcing the door."
He was so apologetic that she couldn't stop her smile. "That would explain the gun."
He lowered his revolver to his side. "Excuse me." He started to back out of the kitchen, but a thump from the woodshed snared his attention.
He took two steps toward the door, and it swung open.
Boyd stepped inside, jostling an armload of wood. Confusion marred his handsome face, but when he saw Claire standing by the stove in her robe, he nearly dropped his armload of wood. His eyes registered her state of undress, then flew to his brother, who was still standing in his drawers. "What the hell is going on?"
The sheriff glanced at Claire then back at Boyd. "We were about to have coffee," he said nonchalantly.
She opened her mouth to correct Boyd's obvious assumption, but the sheriff winked, as if warning her to let him do the talking.
Seemingly unconcerned, the sheriff crossed his arms over his wide chest and braced his bare feet on the floor like a sailor on rough water. His chest and arms were small mountains of muscle and hair, his stomach tapered and flat, his legs long and solid-looking in his snug drawers. The sheriff was a gorgeous man, and he would have been the sensible choice, but he wasn't Boyd. Leave it to her to be attracted to the wrong brother.
Boyd's snort of disgust told her he'd caught her staring at his brother.
"Shut the door," Duke said. "You're letting in the cold."
Boyd shoved the door with his foot and just missed slamming it on Sailor's tail as the dog squeezed inside. Tension sparked from every inch of him. Claire feared he was going to attack his brother. She glanced at Duke to see why he wasn't trying to clear up Boyd's suspicions, but he reached down to scratch Sailor's ears.
"How you doing, clumsy?"
He was purposely driving Boyd crazy. She would have never imagined the sheriff like this, but here in her kitchen, he wasn't a lawman. He was a brother. Duke was playing games and taunting his sibling and making her like him even more.
The light of humor in the sheriff's eyes delighted her. In that moment, she sensed the two of them becoming friends. She understood quite clearly what thoughts Boyd was having that put the ferocious scowl on his face, but she wasn't offended. She loved making him wonder about the situation, about her. He deserved it after flaunting Martha on his arm at the cantata.
Boyd dumped the wood into the kitchen bin, but Claire was watching Duke, whose wide shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.
She pursed her lips to hide her smile.
Murder filled Boyd's eyes when he stood to face his brother. "Why are you standing in Claire's kitchen half dressed?"
Duke shrugged. "Because I wanted a cup of coffee?"
Boyd gritted his teeth and took a step forward, but Sailor started barking like they were under attack.
"It's all right," Duke said to the dog. He glanced at Boyd and burst out laughing. "Calm down, hothead. I took a room last night to make sure nothing happened."
Boyd glanced between them, his fists clenched. "That doesn't explain why you're standing in her kitchen in your damned drawers."
Anna rushed into the kitchen, her eyes brimming with worry. "What the devil is—oh, my ..." Her eyes widened as her gaze swept the perfect form of Sheriff Grayson.
Boyd's face grew as purple as Anna's house robe, and he glared at his brother. "Get some clothes on and let's take a walk."
Unperturbed by Anna's perusal and Boyd's ire, Duke chuckled and left the room.
o0o
When his brother was dressed, Boyd followed Duke out of Claire's house, wondering what in the hell was going on between him and Claire.
"She's one gorgeous lady." Duke's smug grin made Boyd want to rearrange his brother's teeth.
"You're doing a fine job of irritating me this morning."
Duke threw his head back and laughed. "I knew it." He chuckled again and ignored Boyd's scowl. "You've finally met your downfall, little brother. Radford and Kyle are going to love this."
"It's nothing more than my usual romance."
"We'll see." Duke headed across the Common. He chuckled three more times before Boyd elbowed him in the side.
"I want you to deputize me."
"I have a deputy."
"I'm serious, Duke. Deputize me, and I'll take a room at Claire's."
Duke halted in the middle of the Common. "Now why would you want to do that?"
"To keep Claire from getting hurt."
"And to seduce the lovely widow into your bed perhaps?"
Boyd clenched his jaw. "If we weren't in the Common, I'd pound you for that."
"I have a duty to protect those women. I'm not going to put a fox in the hen house to keep out a bear."
"All right, damn it. I care about her. For some reason Claire feels a need to help Anna. She's fool-headed and too stubborn to listen to reason."
"Claire seems like a smart lady. Maybe she just doesn't agree with your reasoning."
Boyd jammed his cold hands into his coat pockets. "She's gotten herself into a mess with this temperance nonsense, and now she's refusing to send Anna home to her family."
"What does that have to do with you?"
"My patrons are grumbling that they're tired of the women nagging us each day. I'm afraid someone is going to cause trouble. Deputize me, and I'll look out for Claire and Anna. You and Levi have all you can handle without doing guard duty with those crazy women."
"Bad idea." Duke resumed walking. Boyd kept pace, his irritation rising to a dangerous level.
"Whoever nailed that note to Claire's door two weeks ag
o sounds like they aren't toying with her. Those stubborn, idiotic women need someone who can save them from their own foolishness."
"You sound worried."
"I am." Boyd huffed out a frosty breath and stomped through the snow. "Claire has a loaded gun in her closet that she thinks will protect her, but she'll probably put a bullet in herself before shooting anyone else. If I stay there, I can try to talk sense into both of them. And if they won't listen, at least I'll be there if anything happens."
Duke entered the building that housed his office. "If you can convince Claire to let you take a room, I'll deputize you."
"Deputize me, and I'll convince her."
Duke took a badge out of his desk drawer. "I'm only doing this because I have to take Levens back to Pittsburgh. I'll be back Friday. If I hear one complaint," he said, "or find out you're taking advantage of Claire in any way, I'll yank this badge off your chest so fast your head will spin."
"If you insult my integrity one more time you won't have a head. I'll knock it off your damned shoulders."
Duke laughed and handed Boyd the badge. "Glad we understand each other."
Chapter Seventeen
Boyd picked up his valise and carried it downstairs to his crowded saloon. "Come on, Sailor." The dog scurried out from under the billiard table and trotted to Boyd's side.
On the way out of the saloon, Boyd nodded to Pat, knowing his friend and former owner of the saloon was more than capable of running it for a few nights. Karlton would be there to help out too.
Boyd drew in a lungful of bracing winter air as he crossed the street to Claire's house. He went around to the back door and knocked.
"Who's there?" she asked without opening up.
Sailor gave a shrill bark. Boyd rubbed the dog's head.
"Thanks," he whispered.
When Claire opened the door, Sailor barreled inside. She turned to scold the dog, and Boyd followed Sailor's lead by stepping inside. He sat his valise on the oak floor and nodded to Anna who was drying her hands on a red checkered apron tied around her slim waist.
She nodded to Boyd, then leaned down to pet Sailor. "Good evening, mister." She ruffled the dog's ears. "How did you know we were missing you?"
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