How amazing she’d been able to handcuff him to the bed. She smiled. They’d had a good time but nothing lasts. She’d be the first to share that truth with anyone.
She tucked a horse blanket around him, covering up his privates. It was a pity, because she loved looking at him.
He stirred, startling her. She yanked away and stepped out of his reach.
Before he woke, before he called out her name and asked her to stay, she exited the cell and went out the door.
* * * * *
Without opening his eyes, Jed knew she was gone. He’d hoped she would stay—he believed that she cared for him. But damn if she didn’t make her escape at first light.
Their night together was now seared in his memory. The taste of her, the sound of her moans, even her laughter. What that woman could do with her body—he’d never forget. They’d made love more in one night than he had in the last year. And the damndest part was that she’d moved him in more ways than just the physical.
He stretched his arm. At least she’d removed the handcuff. He sat up and massaged his wrist where the cuff had left a red mark. She’d got the best of him…or had she just wanted to be in charge? It was a new awareness for him, letting someone else call the shots.
He wondered if her passion had been an act so she could escape custody. He didn’t like to think so. The notion took hold and wouldn’t let him go. After all, she wasn’t here now.
He picked up his clothes, which were strewn around the cell. He pulled on his britches, tucking his half-hard and slowly swelling cock back into place. It was as if his dick didn’t give a shit that she’d run out on him, but wanted her anyhow. Too bad he couldn’t just walk down to the Lonesome for a little early morning satisfaction.
He’d work to do and no time to reminisce about a night with a woman who could make his blood run hot. He’d always been good about separating work and play. If he wasn’t careful, Carly Buchanan would keep him from doing what the citizens of Tucson expected him to do.
And what to do about her? She was, after all, a fugitive from the law. He shrugged on his shirt. He was only going to hold Carly for one night anyhow. Best to just get her out of his mind and move on.
* * * * *
Several days later, Carly put on her Sunday go-to-meeting dress and walked to the mercantile. Her order of fancy corsets all the way from Paris, France had arrived. It was her goal to give the Lonesome a little class and the corsets would be sure to fill the bill.
She spotted Jed standing with a gaggle of men deep in serious conversation. When they saw her approaching, the townsmen parted, unwilling to be caught in public in her company. Jed stood his ground. She knew he would. She lifted her chin a little higher.
“Fine morning, Sheriff.” She gave her parasol a twirl.
Jed brought two fingers to the brim of his hat. “Morning, Miss Carly.”
He was a fine specimen of a man and the gesture sent her heart to fluttering. His eyes bore into hers, daring her to relive the moments with him that they’d shared in the jailhouse. She shivered, her body immediately straining for his touch. With sheer force of willpower, she shoved those lusty cravings aside. She’d things to accomplish today.
When the others were some distance, she decided to needle the sheriff some. See if he’d take the bait. She wanted to know what was going on inside his head, beyond giving her lady parts the best night of her life.
She was a fugitive from the law but he hadn’t come after her. This was a mystery to her. She’d pegged him a man who didn’t bend the rules.
“Since you’re not paying for my favors, you can come with me to the mercantile. There’s a particular hat I’ve had my eye on and you’re going to buy it for me.”
“It’d be my pleasure.”
Now wasn’t he being entirely accommodating, she mused, and a gentleman to boot.
She curled her grip around his arm. His muscle tightened. It pleased her ridiculously that he reacted favorably to her touch.
“I hope there’s no hard feelings about the other night,” she said.
His grinned. “When I’m with you, hard feelings are all I’ve got.”
Carly laughed. She liked a man who talked straight.
“So that’s why you haven’t paid us a call at the saloon. You’re protecting your cock from little ole me?”
“That’s about the long and the short of it.”
They reached the steps of the mercantile, she collapsed her parasol. Since they were being straight with each other, she should bring up what had instigated their night of pleasure.
“About the curfew…”
“I’ve been doing some thinking. Seems I asked more of you business owners than was necessary.”
She regarded him to see if he was joshing. He stared ahead and didn’t crack a smile. She’d done as he asked and kept the saloon closed each night—save for a few guests who were entertained by the dollies in their cribs. She’d been about to tell him what a law-abiding citizen she’d become.
Instead, she took advantage of him. “I’m glad to hear you’ve come to your senses.”
“I’m a man who can admit to his mistakes.”
She’d come to another conclusion. Jed Poole took on more responsibility than he needed to. Some men were just that way.
“Why aren’t you after the gang?” she asked. The question was on everybody’s mind.
He rested a boot on the bottom step, watching her. Her pulse quickened.
“Most likely those hombres are hiding in Mexico. If not, they know this part of the territory better than I do. I’ll wait for them to come to me.”
She gave his arm a squeeze. She wanted him to know he had her support. She climbed the steps of the mercantile. He was about to follow when a wrangler came riding down the street at a gallop. He pulled up in front of the sheriff’s office and dismounted before his mount had stopped.
“Excuse me, Carly. Appears that rider is looking for me.”
She let him go, albeit with disappointment. He crossed the road with an enticing swagger. She watched his steady, purposeful gait, slightly bowlegged. His ass was firm. She bit her lip. Visions of how she had run her hands over his smooth, taut muscles had her nipples tightening and her cunny clenching. She’d be glad to be his prisoner any day of the week.
For some reason, he had stayed away from the Lonesome, stayed away from her. What was that all about? There wasn’t a flicker of doubt he’d enjoyed himself the other night. Most men were camping out at her door after a night with her. Jed wasn’t like most men.
“Damnation,” she uttered under her breath. She couldn’t have it both ways.
She moseyed on closer so she could hear what the rider had to say. He was breathing hard and Jed put a hand on his shoulder.
Mr. Finney came out of the mercantile. “What’s going on?”
Carly frowned. “Can’t say. Looks like someone needs the sheriff.”
Mr. Finney squinted. “Don’t recognize him.”
Carly took a second look. She didn’t know the man either and she knew just about everyone within a day’s ride of Tucson.
When the rider calmed a bit, he burst out with his news. “Old man Crowley’s dead. Ambushed out at the ranch. He took two shots in the back.”
She stepped back under the shade of the roof, into the shadows where she wouldn’t be seen. She hadn’t forgotten the whispers of the two cowpokes in her room. They’d been paid well to murder a man, a local rancher, they’d said.
Her blood ran cold, her throat constricted. This must be the rancher they’d been talking about. Mr. Crowley was the man they were meant to kill.
They’d told her she was next if she told anyone what she’d heard. She’d kept silent but now she worried. Should she have told Jed? Warned him? Could he have saved Mr. Crowley if she’d come forward with what she knew?
What if Jed found out she’d known? Would he blame her for keeping her mouth shut? Of course he would. Jeddah Poole was a lawman.
; If those men in her room were the killers, they were dangerous. And they’d threatened her, her dollies and her saloon. She’d made the right decision not to tell. She had to keep herself safe, the other girls safe. She was all they had, and they were all she had.
Jed disappeared inside the sheriff’s office. A crowd had gathered around the rider, eager for details, she imagined. Jed came outside, carrying his rifle.
“Let’s ride,” he said.
The wrangler shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay in town for a spell.”
Hopefully, Jed understood. There was nothing much the wrangler could do anyway.
“Follow me,” Jed ordered. “You can give me directions while I’m saddling my horse.”
He headed for the livery. The wrangler was right behind him, leading his horse.
“This is bad,” Mr. Finney said.
Carly nodded. This was very bad and she was caught in the middle.
Chapter Seven
Jed rode straight into mayhem.
The ranch house was made of sunbaked adobe. The mesquite board shutters across the window hung at an angle. The walls were pockmarked. The scars were fresh. They’d not yet been yellowed by blowing sand.
Standing on the front porch were two women clearly in distress.
One young lady—no more than sixteen—honey-colored hair in disarray, skin pale and blue eyes red-rimmed, bawled like a babe, hiccupping every few seconds. The other, slightly older with dark hair—had the air of a proper young lady but the mouth of a wrangler. Her eyes shot daggers as she yelled at what could only be a ranch worker, his hat in hand and head bowed.
Jed dismounted and pulled off his hat. The hired hand took one look at Jed and fled
for the barn. No doubt his butt had been blistered by harsh words and he’d had enough.
Jed led Shooter to the porch. He was greeted with an angry glare from the dark-haired young lady who’d been interrupted. The fair-haired girl continued her wailing.
No one seemed inclined to comfort her, which irritated Jed a might.
“Morning, folks. Name’s Sheriff Jeddah Poole.” He bowed slightly to the ladies.
The younger girl cried louder, her head falling into her shaking hands. But sparks shot from the other girl. She looked angry as a nest of hornets.
“’Bout time you got here, although it’s a bit late to do any good,” the dark-haired girl said. “Pa’s been killed and those who done it are long gone.”
“Mind your tongue to the law, Kate.” A fit of hiccoughs had the younger girl gasping.
Jed was gratified when Kate thumped the girl on the back in an attempt to be helpful.
“You must be Kate Crowley,” he said.
Kate Crowley rolled her eyes. “Of course I am. Who else would I be?”
There was no way to ease into this conversation, Jed decided. He’d witnessed her short fuse and had no doubt she was ready to turn her anger onto him. These girls had suffered a terrible loss and he made allowances for her sharp tongue.
The younger girl seemed to have gotten herself under control. “I’m Jolie, Sheriff. I hope you aren’t offended by my sister.”
“It’s all right, ladies, I understand you’re mighty upset about what’s taken place here. Why don’t we go inside and you can tell me what happened.”
“I’m not going in there,” Jolie wailed. She clutched a limp handkerchief to her bosom. “He’s in there. I just can’t!”
“Who’s in there?” Jed asked, reaching for his six-shooter. Had the man who’d shot Crowley decided to stick around?
“Hush up, Jolie.” Kate looked like she would burst into flames but her words calmed the girl down to a whimper. She turned and scowled. “Our pa is inside, Sheriff. We laid him out on the dining room table.”
“I need to see his body,” Jed said.
Kate Crowley, who’d given full rein to her emotions, blinked. Her shoulders slumped, her expression dissolved into one of doubt. Her anger had taken just about every ounce of strength, Jed reckoned. He knew what that was like, to be depended on, to bear the burden of loss and hurt on broad shoulders.
He wouldn’t embarrass her by suggesting she do otherwise.
She nodded and stepped aside.
He tied Shooter to one of the porch posts.
Kate led the way. Inside the doorway, she sidestepped a dark pool of blood that’d drawn flies. “Mind where you walk.”
The sickening-sweet smell was the kind he never forgot.
“How about I clean this up first?” he asked the girl. They obviously hadn’t had any inclination to deal with their pa’s blood and he suspected even the sight would bring on more hysterics.
Kate gave a resigned sigh. “That’d be appreciated, Sheriff. I’ll be right back.”
While he waited, he took a good look around. Nothing appeared amiss—save for the giant puddle of blood. This crime hadn’t been a robbery.
A parlor on the left was a picture of cozy domesticity. There were doilies on the arms of the chairs and curtains at the windows. He was reminded of how he’d lived in the saddle for far too long, how that corn-husk mattress in the jail cell put his back to aching.
Was he the kind of man who could settle down?
His thoughts turned inevitably to Carly. By no stretch of the imagination could he picture her in this setting. She was as wild and free-spirited as the mustangs that roamed these mountains. No man would be able to tame her.
Kate Crowley returned with a pot of water and some rags. She’d also brought a bottle of lye—which stank to high heaven.
Jolie had curled herself up on the porch rocker. She needed more time to deal with what’d happened, Jed decided. A girl of her tender years had plenty of bad times ahead of her.
Jed set his hat on a nearby table and took the pot. He splashed water over the bloodstain. The bloody water seeped through the cracks in the floorboards and ran on to the ground beneath.
Jed took one of the rags, crouched and started scrubbing. Kate opened the bottle of lye and moistened her rag. She knelt beside him and worked furiously until the stain was almost gone.
“That’ll do for now, Miss Crowley,” Jed said, standing. He feared she’d wear her fingers to the bone from the lye.
Kate stood and wiped her brow. She tossed the dirty rags into the pot then set them to the side of the door.
“This is where Pa was standing,” she said, staring at the wet spot. “He opened the door to two strangers.”
“Your hired hand told me he was shot in the back.”
“That’s right.” She opened the door and held out her hand. “Come on, Jolie. There’s work to be done.”
Jolie came inside and wrinkled her nose. The sight of the wet floor spooked her and her hand went to her mouth as she smothered a scream.
“Don’t you fret so,” Kate said. “Go into the kitchen and finish your chores.”
The girl did as she was told.
“This way, Sheriff.” Kate opened a door and walked into a room.
Jed followed her. Mr. Crowley’s body had been laid out on the dining room table. A white sheet covered him. Kate peeled back the sheet.
The old man showed a lot of hard years. Jed lifted the leather vest. Two holes pierced the bloody shirt.
“The bullets went clean through him,” Kate said.
From the size of the holes, Jed guessed a .45 was the weapon.
“Thank you, kindly, Miss Crowley. I know this ain’t easy.”
She turned ashen as she covered her pa’s face.
“Coffee, Sheriff?” She seemed to have put her anger away—at least for a while.
“None, thanks.”
“You won’t mind if I have a second cup?”
“No ma’am. Appears you could use one.”
She led him to the kitchen and offered for him to sit at the kitchen table. The morning dishes still soaked in the tin tub.
Jed pulled out a chair and sat opposite a plate of fried potatoes and eggs that’d
gone cold.
“I can’t do this,” Jolie sniffed, hovering in the doorway. Her fragile nature touched Jed. He’d witnessed how his mother fell apart when his own dad had died.
“Then sit down,” Kate said to her sister. The edge had crept back in her voice. “We owe it to Pa to find his killer.”
The girl slumped down in the nearest chair.
“I didn’t catch your worker’s name,” Jed said.
“Name’s Mack. He’s the foreman here at Crowley Ranch.”
“I’ll need to talk to him,” Jed said.
“He can’t tell you anything.” Kate reached for the percolator and poured herself a cup of coffee. “If he’d been around, this might not’ve happened.”
“Anybody else see those men?”
“No Sheriff. Just me and my sister. We were cooking up breakfast when those two men arrived.” She sat down opposite her sister.
Jed was thinking how lucky they’d been working here in the kitchen. Otherwise, he might have had a triple murder to deal with.
He turned to Jolie. “I’m sorry, miss, but I need to know that happened here today. Did you see anything?”
The girl shrugged, running a shaking hand across her forehead, finding an errant lock of hair and putting it back into place. “It all happened so fast. I was at the stove when I heard horses coming. Our pa went to the door to see who had come by, hoping it was the man from the mercantile with our weekly order. I heard them talking but I didn’t pay no mind. My attention was on not burning Pa’s eggs.”
“I’d just come in the kitchen,” Kate said. “I heard the shots and saw Pa fall across the threshold. He must’ve turned his back on those two and was coming inside.”
Jed’s own anger spiked. The man had been gunned down in his own home.
“I saw them ride away,” Jolie said in a near whisper. “Those men were riding hell-bent for leather.”
Kate nodded as she stared off into the distance. “They shot him and just rode away.”
“Are you sure there were only two?” Jed asked.
“Two is all I saw.”
“Did you recognize them?”
Annabelle Weston Page 8