She quickly turned away as she caught the smile that lit his face before he straightened. “Supper’s at six sharp. You got a watch, Marshal?” Her voice held a prim quality. She fixed her hair at the nape of her neck with a practiced movement.
“I’ll be here.” He touched the brim of his Stetson before heading down the hall. The screen door whined open and banged shut before Lacey let out a long sigh and started with her chores, but concentrating was hard. Marching to the stairs, she rested her chin a moment on her hand gripping the banister, then shouted for Luke.
Her brother appeared at the top of the steps and took them two at a time before landing in front of her.
Lacey opened her mouth to speak just as the front door opened.
Dylan leaned into the frame, a tightness in his face, eyes steely with anger.
“Morgan’s horse,” he said.
Lacey gasped and looked at Luke. She turned back to Dylan, a finger of fear running down her spine. “What about it?”
“It’s in your pasture.”
A look darted between Luke and Lacey. “Well, heck. I don’t know how it got there. Anyway, how do you know it’s Morgan’s horse?”
Exasperated, Dylan crossed his arms. “Fits the description, Lacey. A blue dun with white socks and a star. Luke?”
Luke straightened up. “Yes, sir?”
“That your horse?”
“Yes, sir.” Lacey tried to catch his eye, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Been my horse, Bossy, for several weeks now.”
“Several weeks, huh?”
“Yes, sir.” Luke crossed his arms and smiled smugly.
“You got witnesses to vouch that?”
“Well, Lacey—”
“Aside from your sister.” Luke’s hesitation was all Dylan needed. “All right.” He grabbed Luke by the arm and steered him to the parlor. “You wanna tell me what happened, or am I gonna take you in to Sheriff Brady’s jail?” He shoved Luke into a chair and towered over him. Lacey stomped after them and poked Dylan in the back.
“He’s thirteen, and he didn’t do nothing. You can’t do this!”
Dylan turned and lost himself in the green eyes that pleaded before he shook himself free. “I haven’t done anything yet. But I will. The two of you are up to somethin’. You’ve got somethin’ to do with Morgan’s death, and I wanna know what.” A beat of silence filled the room before he added, “I told you before—my world is black and white, right and wrong. That’s what I live by. There is no other way.”
“Well, that’s a sad thing, Marshal Kane, if you have no other way, no gray areas in your life. No decisions to make because everythin’ is so clear-cut.”
“I deal with the law, Miss Everhart. And the law is law. You break it; you get punished. It’s as simple as that.”
“Luke didn’t do nothin’!” Her teeth were gritted in a snarl.
“Then tell me what the heck happened, ’cause I know sure as hell something happened between him and Morgan.”
“Nothin’ happened between Luke and Morgan. It was me!”
“Lacey!” Luke’s arms gripped the chair as he rose.
“Sit down!” Dylan clutched Luke’s shoulder, forcing him to sit. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered. “You owed him money.”
Lacey’s eyes widened. “You think I killed him, or Luke killed him because I owed him money? That’s what you think of me?”
Dylan swallowed. “I think if a body gets desperate enough, anything is possible. I seen it time and time and time again. Did he threaten to repossess the house?”
“No!”
Luke stood suddenly, ducking the marshal and striding to Lacey’s side. “Lacey’s lying,” He planted himself by his sister as if ready to take on the world. “I did it.”
“Did what?” Dylan was losing his patience, and soon someone would pay for that. There was no pulling the wool over Dylan Kane’s eyes. He’d learned from an early age that life wasn’t always as it seemed, people weren’t always as they made out. Beautiful as she was, Lacey Everhart was quite an actress.
“Well.” Luke slid an uncertain glance at Lacey as she elbowed him away.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. He’s trying to protect me.” She threw an arm about Luke and drew him back to her before approaching the marshal and extending her wrists. “All right. Lock me up.”
Suspicion ran through Dylan’s veins as he stared at her. “I don’t know what you’ve done yet, ya dang fool. I’ve seen Morgan’s horse. I want to know exactly what happened. Was it self-defense?” The chill became icy as he feared what might be ahead.
Luke stepped level with Lacey. “She didn’t do nothin’, Marshal. She’s jus’ playin’ with you. It’s not Morgan’s horse. You can ask Del Pritchart over at the Dupree. I been ridin’ that horse for three weeks.”
“Del Pritchart, huh?” Dylan narrowed his eyes and glanced from Lacey to Luke and back again. Every time he looked at Lacey, he had trouble getting his next breath, but that wouldn’t stop him from doing what was right. He paced in front of them, their gazes following his every step, before he stopped to loom above them. “You’re not going to tell me the truth, are you?”
“That is the truth!” Luke insisted. “I swear, Marshal—”
“Luke!” Lacey’s reprimand was met with a snort from both men.
“Here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna ride out to the Dupree and get a statement from…no I’m not. No, I’m not. Luke!”
“Yes, sir?”
Dylan grabbed Luke by the collar. “Come with me.”
As Dylan Kane marched the young man toward the door, he realized he couldn’t trust this duo to stay put if he were to get Sheriff Brady or find this Pritchart fellow. On the other hand, he could hardly leave them tied up. Lacey drifted through his mind taunting him…in more ways than one. Was he really going to arrest that woman? Indecision tore through him like a tornado through a cornfield, ripping out his heart.
“Where we goin’?” Luke’s voice brought Dylan back to the situation.
But Lacey was on his heels. “You’re not taking him in, Marshal. He’s but thirteen, and he hasn’t done a thing.”
Dylan stopped and turned to see her pleading eyes. “I didn’t say I was takin’ him in. I’m takin’ him somewheres he and I can have a little talk. I want to hear exactly what he has to say without you interrupting all the time. After that, I’ll hear what you have to say. And if I can make heads or tails at all out of it, we’ll see…well, I’ll decide what to do next.” For a moment the marshal tried to read Lacey’s face, knowing dang well she tried to read him. He remained inscrutable.
Dylan gave Luke a brief shove out of the way before striding to the door where Lacey’s gun hung. He took it down, wrapped the belt about the holster, and tucked it under his arm before he nodded for Luke to precede him outside.
“All right now.” Dylan pushed Luke back against a tree, hoping his height gave him a menacing appearance. “What’s your story then? That’s Morgan’s horse—no, don’t deny it—so what the hell is it doing in your pasture?”
“Like I said before—that’s mine, name’s Bossy, and I been ridin’ that horse for several weeks.” Luke nodded his head to end the discussion, an affirmation of what he’d said.
“I don’t believe that, Luke. Try again.”
“Cain’t try again. Horse’s name is Bossy, and I been ridin’ him several—”
“You said all that. Tell me something new.”
“Ain’t more to tell. Del said I could work out on the range, join the men if’n I had a good horse.”
“Ranch supplies their men with horses, Luke. Why would Pritchart tell you that?”
“Well. I don’t rightly know. But…I know it looks bad. And Morgan, he weren’t no angel I can tell you. Bastard son of a bitch if ever there was one. Coulda been anyone hereabouts that up and kilt that sidewinder. Lotsa folks had dealin’s with that man. Lotsa folks had grudges ’gainst ’im. You got some grudge ’gai
nst my sister and me, Marshal?”
Dylan puffed out a breath of exasperation. The young man was trying to be tough, protective of Lacey, he had to give him that. But it was the simple truth that made his job easy, seeing always there was a right and a wrong. These two, though—they were something different, this was something else. “No, I ain’t got no grudge against you or anyone else for that matter. Grudges don’t come into this job. But truth does. And the truth is what I’m after.”
“That is the truth!”
Dylan gave the boy a long, hard look and took a gulp of fresh air. “I wisht it was, Luke. I really wisht it was.”
****
Lacey paced the parlor, fear sickening her stomach while fury with the marshal made her blood boil. How the heck had this man come into her life like this? Under any other circumstances, she would be sweet-tempered and polite, maybe even make an attempt at flirting, but the situation was now dire and flirting wasn’t…or was it? Oh, heck. How does a body go about flirting with a lawman, for heaven’s sake? And last night had gone a bit beyond the flirting stage—what had been going through her mind when she let him…? It didn’t bear thinking about.
Getting her rifle and tying him up wasn’t going to do anything except postpone the inevitable. Killing him wasn’t too good an idea either—not that she could. Letting Luke take the blame was in no way going to happen, not over her dead body. Dead body? Pretend suicide? How would one go about doing that? She had read Romeo and Juliet, but she didn’t know of any local herbs that could help her fake death.
The screen door whined open again when the two men came in. Dylan gave Luke a slight push to stand in front of him.
Lacey looked up at the marshal expectantly, her heart melting for a brief moment before she beat it back into stone.
“Well?” She tried to make her voice sound stern, but her insides were turning to jelly as her eyes locked with his.
Dylan hesitated. “You next. Luke,” he said turning back to the boy, “go on and do your chores like your sister wants. She and I are gonna have a little discussion now.”
Lacey took a gulp of air before nodding to Luke to leave the room. She steeled herself for the interview as they stood waiting to hear the sound of the rear door slamming shut.
“There are two things I know about this,” Dylan started. “One, that’s Morgan’s horse in your pasture no matter what y’all say. Two, you owed Morgan money or had dealings with him that were somehow not going well for you. Add to this I know you have a gun, that folks saw a young man with fair coloring leading Morgan’s horse, not riding it—”
“You don’t know that was Luke! Bossy is Luke’s horse!”
“So you say. So you say.” Dylan took a few steps, replaced her gun and belt on its peg and turned back to her. “All my life, all my dang life, I been upholding the law. I see things in black and white, like I said, Lacey; either the law is upheld or it’s broken. It’s as simple as that. I like things that way—it’s clear cut, a body knows where he stands. Then you come along…” He halted in front of her. “Last night…last night it took everythin’ I had to stop myself where I did. Heck, we just met, but I can tell you, you burned a hole in me that’s not easy to fill.”
Lacey thought of fluttering her eyelashes, but it was such a silly thing to do. How could women act like that? She just looked up at the marshal and waited, the possibilities turning over in her mind, flitting through her head but never settling.
“You wanna tell me what really happened now so we can try to sort this matter? All I can do is promise I’ll do everything in my power to sort it for you, but I cain’t help you less’n you tell the truth. You tell me lies and make me look a dang fool, there’s nothin’ I can do. You understand that?”
Along with the tiniest nod, she clasped her hands together. She looked up at Dylan Kane and saw kindness in that face, a face she could so easily have loved had things been different. She could sense the heat radiating from his body and knew if she touched his chest, a strength would exist where his heart beat, If she ran her hand down his arms, she would find that same strength in his muscle. How she wanted those arms around her! All her life, it seemed, she had looked after herself, cared for her brother, struggled to make a home for the two of them. What would it have been like if Morgan had not…
“Lacey?” Dylan’s soft voice brought her back from her reveries. “You ready to tell the truth?” With one gentle finger, he lifted her chin so their gazes met for a moment before they each stepped back from the brink of something neither could control. “Lacey?” he repeated.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
****
Frank Morgan’s home office had been a world of manly luxury to Luke Everhart. Leather and cigar smoke permeated the air. Trophies of elk and moose graced the stone walls of the fine ranch house. Lacey was less impressed. Morgan had made her a deal—sell him her homestead with the water rights he coveted, and in return, he would sell her the old Turner place she had eyed and give her a mortgage for the difference. The four-bedroom, two story structure was just outside of town with its own barns and pasture for horses, room for a few hogs and chicken coops, a vegetable patch that could be brought back to life. Running the household would be hard work, but not as hard as the smallholding had been and with a much better chance of making money. She believed she was getting the better of the deal—that was certain. But the price proved high…
When Morgan started calling around, Luke and Lacey believed he was checking up on his investment. He would make suggestions, give advice, ensure they were doing all right. Lacey made payments on time, so he had no need to worry. But the visits continued, always unannounced and unexpected and at irregular times of day or evening. Lacey began to fret Frank Morgan might be having ideas like the manager of the hotel had had, might be trying to get her alone. But Luke—Luke viewed it differently. He listened to Morgan as if the older man were the father he hadn’t had, as if Morgan would teach him the things that would lead to that fine life of brandy and cigars and untold wealth.
Frank Morgan, unmarried and therefore with no children of his own, played up to Luke’s adoration. He got him the job over at the Dupree Ranch where Del Pritchart was foreman. It was three days a week to start, just doing chores about the barns. But it helped with the mortgage and made Luke feel like he had a foot on the ladder. Made him feel useful, a man. Morgan started calling on Luke there to see that he was all right, as a father might check on his son, Luke thought. And then there were the gifts.
Morgan took Luke into town for new clothes, bought him new boots and a brand new Stetson just like the men were wearing. Lacey felt relieved; Morgan obviously wasn’t after her. He truly was interested in young Luke, in giving him a better life. She had misjudged the man. Morgan gave Luke that fine blue dun horse, Bossy—that horse meant the world to Luke. It was his prized possession. And Morgan promised to teach Luke his own business of property investment, something Luke thought meant riches beyond his wildest dreams. The visits became more frequent. And then suddenly, a couple of weeks after Frank Morgan had given Luke Bossy, Luke became a different person.
“I asked him,” Lacey continued as she paced the length of the parlor, “I asked him time and time again, what was the matter? What was botherin’ him? I thought he was comin’ down with a dang cold.” She stopped to look into Dylan’s puzzled face as he dropped into one of the armchairs. “He just kept saying nothin’; nothin’ was the matter and to leave him alone. I mean, I just could not for the life of me figure it out. He had always been such a happy kid…well, for the most part. I mean, we had some hard times, Luke and I together, but he’d never acted like this. And then one day, he came to me and said Morgan had asked for Bossy back. That bastard wanted Luke to give him back the dang horse. I never see’d Luke cry the way he did the day he led Bossy back to Morgan’s place.”
Dylan ran a hand across his mouth. He felt he knew what might be coming, but hard as it was to believe, he also knew Lacey Everhart wasn�
��t making this up. It would be beyond her to do so, out of her ken. She mightn’t even know the real truth of it herself, the whys and wherefores of it. No, she definitely wouldn’t make up such a thing. Dylan let out such a long breath he thought his lungs would be empty. “What happened next?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “I decided to find out why for myself, not only why he wanted Bossy back but why Luke had been acting thataway. Well, I thought Del might know something. Del Pritchart is sweet on me…” Dylan flinched slightly. “…though the feeling is not mutual,” Lacey hastened to add. “Still, I know he’d tell me the truth and speak right out. So I went on over that afternoon to speak to Del. I asked him straight out if he’d been having trouble with Luke, noticed anything peculiar about the boy, had he been acting strange, different?”
“What did he say?”
“I’m getting to that, Dylan, if you’d wait a moment! Del said Luke had been pretty mulish lately, questionin’ orders and givin’ him a hard time. Said he argued with just about anyone and ever’thing, and he might have to let him go if this continued. I asked him to wait a bit, see if I could straighten things out, and he agreed.”
“And then what happened?” Waiting for what he knew was inevitably coming, Dylan drew in a breath and leaned back. But he wasn’t comfortable. Neither was Lacey. She paced the room, wringing her hands like dishrags that had become too wet.
“I found Luke that day,” she started as the tears began to blossom like petals dropping down her cheeks. “He and Morgan were out by one of the line camps where Del had sent Luke, loaning him a ranch horse. Morgan had ridden Bossy and the two were arguing. As I rode up I didn’t…I didn’t understand what I was seeing—”
“You don’t have to go on, Lacey. You don’t have to…describe anything. If you don’t want to. I think I know what you saw.” Dylan leaned forward before he rose and opened a window, bile rising in his throat only to be mastered and taken back down.
“I don’t have to describe?... Is it something men do that I just didn’t know about?”
Lawless Love (Lawmen and Outlaws) Page 3