Lawless Love (Lawmen and Outlaws)

by Downing, Andrea

  Lacey slammed the oven door shut and straightened to her full height, aware of the marshal’s long frame filling the doorway, his hand up on the door, clean clothes and not a straggly whisker in sight. His light brown hair was still long, but washed, and pushed back off his face to reveal a strong chin and rugged good looks that made a gal feel safe and cared for.

  He visibly took in a deep breath, aromas of rosemary and baking potatoes and gravy filling the air. “Smells good.” His voice was low, the contrary and truculent notes gone now.

  Lacey sighed. “Seems like you’re having your wish. We’re eating dinner together after all.”

  Dylan stepped into the room. “No other boarders?”

  “I’ve only got two spare rooms. I don’t rent my brother’s.”

  “He’s not coming home?”

  “Not tonight.” Lacey gazed at the floor and bit her lip. Townspeople considered it indecent for her to be running the boarding house on her own, but it was the only way to keep her head above water. Ha! That’s a good one, all things considered. “How long you plannin’ on stayin’, Marshal?”

  “Dylan. Name’s Dylan Kane. No idea, depends on whether I can find the man I’m hunting.”

  Lacey turned back to start podding peas. “What’d he do?”

  “Killed a man.” Lacey’s head shot up as her glance met Dylan’s.

  His eyes narrowed for a moment. “Shot him between the eyes close range. Stole his horse. A real killer on the loose.”

  Lacey retrieved a cast iron pot and pumped water into it before throwing in the peas. She brushed against him as she carried the pot to place on the range.

  “You need help?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You haven’t told me your name yet. I know your last name is Everhart.”

  “Lacey.”

  Dylan looked at the angelic face, the long blond locks pulled back into a bun, and the eyes like moss after spring rain. Her dress showed off the curves he had seen and the neat, little waist to go with them. He gulped a breath. “Well, Lacey Everhart. Pleased to meet you.”

  But was she pleased to meet him? After all that had happened at the river, he thought not.

  They ate the meal with quiet conversation, and Dylan asked for seconds. “I like you better in a dress,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never seen a woman wear pants before.”

  “I wear them when I have to ride over to the ranch where my brother works. It’s just easier. I’m used to them now. When we came west, I wore pants to disguise myself so men wouldn’t be after me. Luke was too young to protect me, so that way, we looked like brothers.”

  “When was that? Where did you come from?”

  “Tennessee.” She played with her food a moment, then popped in a mouthful. “Mother died of a fever shortly after Luke was born. Then my father up and died.” She laid her fork down and looked across at him. His brow creased as he waited for her to continue. Lacey’s mood changed. “You want the whole sorry tale, or can I stop?”

  Dylan’s fork hung in mid-air as he watched her features change. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” The food went in his mouth and was met with slow chewing as quiet again filled the room.

  Lacey liked the way he had a man’s appetite—no doubt for more than food—and there was a certain comfort in his presence she couldn’t explain. She knew he was waiting for her to continue. She pushed back from the table then thought better of it. “There’s not that much more to tell. I was seventeen, and my brother was six. Mama’d lost sev’ral babies twixt Luke and me. She said I was tough enough to survive most anywheres—as was Luke. Anyway, with the folks gone, I found work in a hotel kitchen for a room and food, but when the hotel manager got some strange ideas about visiting our room, we moved on. Like I said, I disguised myself as a boy for a while, when we hitched a train west. The nesters showed us kindness when we got here, gave us odd jobs, a place in the barn, and food at their table. When I turned twenty-one, I could file for a homestead, but we couldn’t make a go of it. I signed the land over with its water rights to a wealthy rancher and had enough to take on this place. Not paid for yet, of course, but we’ve a roof over our heads for now.” She waited for Dylan to comment, but he just continued with his meal. “You up from Cheyenne?”

  He nodded. “I got a wire from the sheriff over in Lewiston. ’Course, by the time I got up here and started tracking, trail’s gone cold. And no one seems to have liked the man who died.”

  Lacey hesitated. “Who was he?”

  “Rancher. Owned a big spread. Only thing we know is someone found him dead, reported it, and no horse to be seen. Someone said they saw a young kid riding with it.”

  Lacey put her knife and fork on her plate and started to clear the dishes. “Well, how do you know the horse didn’t just run off and this kid found it, was bringing it in?”

  “Could be, but I doubt it. The boy was riding through town, not stopping. Lewiston sheriff said when he went to investigate there were signs of a struggle, bit of cloth caught on a bush, things scattered about.”

  “Well, that don’t prove the person who got the horse was the same one as shot him.”

  “No, but it’s the only lead I got. Got to at least question this boy. If I can find him.” He stood to help her clear, walking behind her to the pump. “You know a man named Morgan?” he said to her back.

  Lacey’s hand shook as she put the dishes in the wash pan and slowly turned to face him. “Everyone here knows Morgan. He holds the mortgage on this house.”

  “Well. Not anymore he doesn’t. Not anymore.” His hand went gently to her shoulder before he lifted her chin so she looked at him. “You all right?”

  “I…I’m just wondering who will own it now, who his heirs will be. Who I’ll have to pay.” She moved toward the larder, but he clasped her shoulder. “I’ve made pie…”

  Dylan leaned his head toward the girl, his lips brushing Lacey’s before they settled like a butterfly on a quavering leaf.

  She didn’t push him away, but she didn’t respond either.

  “Sorry.” He lifted his head suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he took in a sharp breath. “Sorry.”

  Lacey hesitated before moving to get the pie. In silence, she removed it from the larder, brought it to her worktop, and uncovered it, aware his gaze followed her every move.

  Dylan returned to the dining table and pulled out his chair. The perfume of the apples wafted in the air, and Lacey got a tray with cream and sugar and brought it to him.

  “Sorry,” he repeated once more. “There’s a right way to behave and a wrong way, black and white. I’ve always believed that. It’s the law by which I live.”

  Under his watchful gaze, she guided the knife into the pie and slid out a piece.

  “It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

  ****

  As night whispered about him and he watched the curtains billow before they were sucked out into the silver light of the moon, Dylan lay imagining what it would be like to hold Lacey in that nocturnal quiet. But women, he knew, weren’t keen on being courted by lawmen, and he hadn’t had much success in that quarter. The bright-eyed and lively schoolmarm back home had made her views known before he’d even gotten a toe in her door. And the shopkeeper at the mercantile had denied Dylan’s request to walk out with his daughter, spouting the words, “I won’t have my girl a widder with a babe.” Dylan sighed. He had a job to do, a job he knew he did well. But sometimes he just hankered for a home life as well.

  Somewhere an owl hooted, and a horse responded with a sleepy nicker, but that wasn’t keeping him awake. He recalled his happy home-life as a child, two parents who’d loved him, brothers and sisters to play with, a feeling of safety and comfort. He’d learned from the start to follow the straight and narrow, that there were good men and bad, and a clear line existed between the two. His parents weren’t particularly religious; they just made sure he understood right from wrong, and that nothing was to be gained from
wrongdoing. And that was how he lived. What could it have been like for Lacey and her brother when her parents died? Who had been there to guide the young pair?

  His yearning to hold her wasn’t only lust, which he had no doubt he felt, but a desire to protect her and give her comfort she most definitely deserved. As if he had no control over his own actions, he rose from his bed, quickly pulled on his pants and slowly twisted the knob of his bedroom door. Stepping out barefoot into the hall, he stopped. Just what was he doing?

  And then he turned and saw her.

  Lacey stood at the far end of the hall, a light cotton shift barely giving her form decent covering. Her fair hair hung loose in tendrils that almost pointed to the pert breasts Dylan could see in the light coming from her room. For a second Dylan wondered if she were sleepwalking, so hushed was the night.

  “I…I couldn’t sleep.”

  Dylan thought her voice was like a Siren’s song, mesmerizing him to go to her. The words, “Me neither,” escaped his lips before he took a step toward her. “I…I…”

  As Lacey turned and moved slightly, she caught the light, and he could see the outline of her whole body, the peak of her breasts, the curve and round swell of her hips.

  “I…I couldn’t sleep either,” he finally got out.

  He was drawn to her, as if someone had thrown a rope about him and was pulling him in. Lacey hadn’t moved but stood waiting for him, waiting to feel his arms about her, to be embraced in the safety of his strength. When he embraced her, she sighed, which Dylan thought was the breath of night, a sound he had been waiting his whole life to hear. His hands slipped down the length of her night shift then moved back up to remove it, revealing the satin of her skin. And then he stopped. Releasing the shift, he let it fall back to cover her as he stepped back.

  “I can’t. I…it isn’t right. I can’t dishonor you this way.”

  Lacey’s head tilted as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. Dishonor. Could a woman ever understand how such a stain would destroy him?

  Dylan turned back to his room as Lacey stood there. A breeze slammed a door shut.

  ****

  In the morning Dylan sat and prodded the eggs in front of him, the enticing smells of bacon and coffee not doing much for his appetite. He ate mechanically, his fork lifting food, finding his mouth, before searching round his plate once again. He chewed without tasting, his eyes avoiding Lacey as she pushed some home fries around before stabbing one.

  “I’ll be off.” He rose suddenly. “It’s best if I go.”

  Her hands were on her hips as she stood and tapped that delicate foot he had seen. “You’re an honorable man, Dylan Kane. I don’t reckon I have anything to fear from you as far as my own honor goes.” A minute passed in silence. “Are you heading off from hereabouts or just leaving me? ’Cause if you think you’re gonna find another place to stay, you’ll be wasting your time. You know that.”

  “I can sleep out. It’s best.”

  A moment passed in which her chest rose and fell with a deep intake of air. “I need the money. Plus, of course, if I’da said no, you’da stopped. I know that. You know that.”

  “Mebbe. But that don’t make what happened right. You sayin’ yes, if you did, don’t make it right.” Why had the woman let him lift her shift like that?

  Lacey studied her toe for a moment.

  The front door opened and banged shut. “Laaaaace?” a voice called familiarly. “Got off early—I’m…” Luke Everhart tossed his hat on the hallstand as he entered the kitchen, then stopped. His glance darted from Dylan to Lacey and back again as he bit his lower lip. “What...”

  Dylan spun round, eyes narrowing as he assessed Lacey’s brother. Luke Everhart was young.

  And his coloring was fair.

  Part Two

  With introductions made, Lacey busied herself clearing up. She violently pumped water to wash the dishes, breaking one plate as she banged it, tutting as she tossed it aside.

  Dylan had sunk back down onto his chair. He crossed one long leg over the other as he leaned back sizing up Luke Everhart, whose hands shook slightly as he helped himself to a cup of coffee.

  “I thought you said you’d be off?” Lacey’s plates had never been so clean with scrubbing. Outside, a ball of tumbleweed spun by as branches tried to meet the earth and the gate crashed open and shut. “Luke, go close that dang gate; seems you left it open,” she snapped. She waited until her brother was out before challenging, “Well? You haven’t answered me!”

  Dylan slowly put his feet to the floor as if he would leave but leaned back once more instead. “You said you knew Morgan?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Something’s been botherin’ me. Well, two things in fact. One, where were you comin’ from or goin’ to yesterday dressed thataway? And second, you say you knew Morgan but didn’t know he’d been killed? Strange that. Morgan’s been dead sev’ral days now. Most people hereabouts knew he was dead. I’da thought you owin’ him money and all, you’da been one of the first to hear.”

  “Why? There’s no law that says people who owe a body money get to hear bad news first. I’m out here, outta town. No one came by to tell me Morgan’s been shot.” She waited. “And as for my denims, I thought I’d told you I’d brought some things over to Luke yesterday—”

  “But you didn’t know he was comin’ home today?”

  “No. Neither did he when I saw him!”

  “All right.” Dylan played for a moment with the sugar bowl left on the table. “I still think you knew about Morgan.”

  Lacey faced him, hands on hips, before she yanked the dish cloth off a rail and started to dry the waiting dishes. “What possible difference would it make anyway?” She tried to get the quaver out of her voice. “You think I’m a horse thief? Or just a plain, good ol’ fashioned murderer?”

  “Not. You.” Dylan dropped the lid of the sugar bowl into place with a clack. “I was told the horse thief was young and fair. Your brother fits that description. Folks said—”

  “I don’t give a hoot what folks said. What folks? Folks with eyes?”

  “Lacey. Folks said they saw a young man with fair hair leading Morgan’s horse at a run, right through town. Luke fits the description. All I’m doing is checking, not accusing no one.”

  “Well, you can stop your dang check right here. Luke was working since five weeks ago, and every hand on the Dupree’s ranch can vouch for him.”

  “I’m sure—”

  “Well, you better be.”

  “I’m just askin’.”

  “Well, you’ve asked your questions. Now you can go.”

  “A while ago you wanted me to stay.”

  “A while ago you were minding your own business.”

  “This is my business, damnit!” Dylan’s hand came smashing down on the table before he stood, his breath coming in an angry snort. “What the heck do you think a marshal does? Why do you think I’m here?”

  “Here? As in my house? Or here, as in this town?”

  “The dang town, of course.”

  The front door squeaked shut as Luke sauntered back inside. Dylan and Lacey silenced their bickering for a moment as they peered down the hallway at the young man. Luke proceeded toward the warmth of the kitchen and waited in the archway before he asked Lacey if there were any breakfast left.

  Lacey’s glance darted from her brother to the marshal and back. “I’ve just cleared, Luke, but I can fix you eggs if you like.”

  He took a step then stopped. His mouth opened, puckered, and opened once more. “Naw, it’s all right. I’ll wait on dinner.” He looked again from Lacey to Dylan. “Guess I’ll go on up to my room and settle back in.”

  “You do that school work I gave you, Luke, that reading?”

  “’Course.”

  “Well, you go on and settle back in. When you’re finished, the chicken coop needs some repairs; have a look. And take the slops out to the hogs for me, please.”
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  Luke nodded and was gone. Lacey stood, listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps. She started to talk in the same instant as Dylan before he stopped and waited.

  “That’s really some murderer I got there for a brother. A right killer.” She snapped out her dishcloth and pushed it on the rail to dry. “You best be careful, Marshal; he’ll take you down like a flash!”

  “Well.” Dylan slid back into his vacated chair. “They don’t have to look the part, now, do they? Anyways, it mighta been an accident. Mighta been unintentional. Who knows? But the fact is, I gotta ask if he’s the one townsfolk saw with Morgan’s horse. If he is, I gotta find out why he had it. Did he find it?” An almost hopeful upbeat note could be heard in that word find.

  “You don’t even know that he has the dang horse. You see Morgan’s horse here?”

  “Could be hid.”

  “Yeah. We put it in the outhouse, didn’t you notice?”

  Dylan suppressed a smile, but it snuck out at the corners of his mouth. “You can be right sarcastic when you wanna be, can’t you?”

  “I don’t want to be. But I sure as heck feel I’m being forced to be, what with you being so dumb about all this.” She ignored Dylan’s look, the cogs of his brain turning things over. “I got work to do, a house to keep. You said you were going.”

  “Well. Now your brother is here to chaperone, I may as well stay the night so’s you can make money. But for now, I’ve my own work to do. See if I can find out anything more in town or back over at Twin Pines.”

  Dylan strode over to get his hat and gun belt down off the peg rack before buckling the belt on and tying the holster round his thigh. Lacey tried to avert her gaze, but from the corner of her eyes, it settled on the bulk of his thigh muscle as he leaned slightly, tying the knot.