The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2

by Debra Mullins

  “Hey, Pruitt,” the outlaw leader said. “Can you take care of your family problems later? We’re supposed to be doing business here.”

  “We’ll do business.” Pruitt jabbed Molly’s sobbing form with his foot. “Get downstairs, you lazy cow. The place won’t run itself.”

  Molly slowly sat up. One side of her face glowed lividly red with the imprint of Pruitt’s hand. Susannah started to go to her, but Pruitt grabbed her by the arm.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” He glanced at Molly and cursed. “You stay right here until that mark goes away,” he snapped. “I don’t want your ugly face to scare off the customers.”

  Molly cautiously crawled to a corner of the room, where she leaned against the wall, her doe eyes blank.

  Susannah curled her lip in disgust. “You are a pathetic man,” she sneered.

  “And you’re a man-hating whore,” he growled back. “But I’ll fix you good.” With a nasty smile, he yanked the bottle of poison from her hand and let it drop to the floor, where it rolled to rest by Molly’s foot. Then he dragged Susannah over to the desk and shoved her back against the leader of the bandits. “What do you say, boys? A hundred head of cattle at the price we talked about, and this pretty little split-tail as an added bonus!”

  The outlaw leader curled his arm around Susannah’s waist and held her firmly against him despite her struggles. He rubbed his pelvis against her bottom, reaching one hand around to squeeze her breast.

  “I think we might have a deal,” the outlaw replied.

  “The hell you do,” Susannah snapped. She jabbed an elbow into his midsection, but he still held on. She could feel him getting aroused and realized that her fighting was probably exciting him. Abruptly she froze, swallowing her natural revulsion as he pawed her body with greedy hands.

  “She sure is a hot piece,” the bandit commented.

  “She’s a man-hater,” Pruitt replied with disgust. “She married three men and killed ‘em all. Make sure you keep her tied up, lessen she do the same to you.”

  “I have to agree with Mr. Pruitt,” a blessedly familiar voice said. Jedidiah stepped through the window, his revolver pointed straight at the bandit leader’s head. “Keeping that gal tied up is about the only way to keep her out of trouble.”

  Susannah breathed a sigh of relief. She should have known he’d be around somewhere. He’d shed his duster, and his revolver gleamed in the lamplight.

  “Who the hell are you?” the outlaw leader demanded.

  Jedidiah tapped the badge pinned to his vest. “United States Marshal Jedidiah Brown, at your service.”

  “A Federal marshal!” one of the bandits exclaimed.

  “Shit, he musta been listenin’!” the other said.

  The bandit leader curled his arm around Susannah’s neck. “Put it down, Marshal, or I’ll snap her neck like a twig.”

  “That wouldn’t be very bright of you,” Jedidiah returned. “So far I only have you boys on cattle rustling. Adding murder to that is sure to see you hang, instead of just passing some time in prison.”

  “I don’t aim to do any time,” the leader replied. “There’s four of us and one of you, Marshal.”

  “Nice to see you went to school once upon a time.” Jedidiah looked at Molly’s husband. “Well, Pruitt, what do you say?”

  “What do you mean, what do I say?” blustered Pruitt.

  “Yeah, what are you asking him for?” one of the desperados asked.

  “Unless...” The bandit leader pulled his gun and pointed it at Pruitt, taking one arm from around Susannah in the process. “Unless he set us up.”

  “Put the gun down,” Jedidiah ordered.

  The outlaw ignored him, aiming his weapon Pruitt’s heart. “Is that the way it happened, Pruitt? Was this a trap?”

  “N-n-no, I swear!” Pruitt protested, slowly raising his hands. “He’s trying to trick you!”

  “It’s all right, Mr. Pruitt,” Susannah said with a sweet smile. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

  “She was in on it, too!” one of the rustlers cried.

  “No! No, she wasn’t! I mean, I wasn’t...” Pruitt glared at Susannah and raised his fist. “Tell the truth, you damned bitch!”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you threaten me, you bully. I’m not your wife, and you can’t kick me around like a stray dog!”

  “Put down the gun!” Jedidiah ordered again, his gaze never leaving the leader of the gang.

  “Is she in on it or ain’t she?” another of the rustlers questioned.

  “She’s not! I’m not!” Pruitt rounded on Susannah. “I’ll shut your mouth for good!”

  Everything erupted. Pruitt swung at Susannah, who threw herself to the floor so that Pruitt slugged the bandit leader instead. Someone fired, and Pruitt staggered. Jedidiah shot the leader’s gun hand, then whirled and got a second man in the shoulder before he could draw. Mrs. Pruitt sneaked up behind the third member of the gang and smashed the bottle of arsenic over his head. Stunned, he sank down in his chair.

  Susannah scrambled to her feet, looking down at the fallen Pruitt. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling, his mouth gaped open, and blood flowed freely from a nasty hole in his chest. Unable to take her gaze from the awful sight, Susannah stumbled towards Jedidiah. The marshal pushed her behind him with one arm, keeping his revolver trained on the wounded desperados at the same time.

  “Mr. Pruitt’s dead,” she whispered, swallowing hard.

  He glanced at Pruitt’s body, then looked at the man’s wife. “Mrs. Pruitt, your husband is dead,” he said gently.

  “I know that, Marshal.” Molly hung her head for a long moment, then raised her eyes to his. “Do you know who shot him?”

  “This fellow right here.” Jedidiah gestured at the bandit leader with his revolver. “I tried to get him first, but I was a little too slow. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “There was nothing you could do, Marshal. My husband should have expected such a thing to happen, given the type of men he was dealing with.” She let out a sigh and shook her head. “He always was short-sighted.”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt your grief,” Jedidiah said in a gentle tone, “but do you have anything we can tie these boys up with? I’m afraid I only have one set of handcuffs.”

  “I can find something,” she responded softly.

  “Good.” He gave her his most charming Southern-gentleman smile. “I’d like to thank you for helping me round up these rustlers, ma’am. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Mrs. Pruitt blushed. “I couldn’t let him hurt you, Marshal.”

  “And I’m obliged, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Pruitt made to leave the room, then turned back to face them, twisting her fingers together. “Marshal, there’s one more thing. Please don’t blame Susannah for breaking out of jail. I forced her, and that’s the truth.” She ducked her head. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to take me into custody as well.”

  “Nonsense, ma’am,” Jedidiah said. “I don’t remember any jailbreak. You were working with the law to round up these cattle rustlers, and that’s a fact.”

  “But—oh-h-h,” she said, understanding dawning. “If that’s the way you remember it, Marshal—”

  “It is, ma’am.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you. I’ll go fetch that rope now.”

  Mrs. Pruitt left the room, and Susannah looked up at Jedidiah in wonder. “That was very sweet of you,” she said. “You had every right to arrest her for jail breaking.”

  He shrugged off her compliment. “The woman has been through enough.”

  “I don’t care what you say. It was very compassionate of you.” She leaned up and brushed a soft kiss on his cheek.

  He gazed down at her, his sherry-colored eyes warm with an emotion that brought pink flooding to her face. A wicked grin curved his lips.

  “Hold that thought, princess.”

  Chapter Eight

  They left Placerville at dawn the next
morning.

  Jedidiah had turned the cattle rustlers over to Sheriff Jones and explained that Mr. Pruitt had died accidentally in the scuffle. The sheriff had cast Susannah a dubious glance, but accepted the marshal’s story. Molly Pruitt found herself a wealthy widow with a prospering business that would easily allow her to live comfortably and support her child. Jedidiah was considered a hero for capturing the gang.

  And Susannah had spent the night locked in jail, wondering what madness gripped her that she had actually gone and kissed Jedidiah.

  She had to be crazy. Yes, she was pleased that he finally believed her innocent of murder and that he would help her locate the witness who would clear her name. And yes, she found him more appealing than any man she had ever met. But he had made it perfectly clear that once his job was done, he would be moving on.

  How could she even consider giving in to her feelings for a man who would only leave her broken-hearted?

  She had simply been so touched by his gentleness with Molly that she had felt obliged to show it, that was all. There was nothing more to it. Absolutely nothing.

  “You’re out of your mind if you think this will keep Caldwell off our trail,” Susannah said to Jedidiah as he drove the wagon away from Placerville.

  “People only see what they want to see,” Jedidiah replied. “And as long as they don’t see that face of yours, at least we have a fighting chance.”

  “You’re not exactly easy to forget yourself,” she pointed out.

  “Me?” He deepened his Southern accent from a mere trace to nearly overdone. “Heck, ma’am, I’m just a farmer. And you’re my wife.”

  “Your pregnant wife.”

  He grinned as if he had indeed been the one to put her in such a state. “Yep.”

  Susannah snorted and tried to make herself more comfortable—or at least as comfortable as a pregnant woman could be on the hard wooden seat of the buckboard Jedidiah had managed to procure. She punched at the wadded up cloth stuffed beneath her gown that made her look as if she were ready to whelp at any moment, then shoved yet another stray curl beneath the deep-brimmed sunbonnet that covered her head. No matter which way she turned, she either dislodged her hat or found her way constricted by her false belly. If this was what it felt like to be expecting a child, perhaps she should rethink her dreams of motherhood.

  Jedidiah, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease in his tan britches and suspenders and a soft, white cotton shirt. He wore his own boots and wide-brimmed tan hat, but otherwise he looked just like any other homesteader as he drove the pair of horses with the ease of long practice. One of the animals pulling the wagon was Susannah’s mount, and the other was a plain brown farm horse that had seen better days. Jedidiah’s Palomino was tied to the back of the buckboard.

  Jedidiah’s rifle lay at his feet within easy reach. His Colts were tucked beneath the seat, hidden behind a coil of rope. He looked like a farmer and even sounded like one, but he was armed to the teeth and ready for anything.

  Which was a good thing for Susannah, considering she couldn’t be of much help with the way her disguise hindered her movements.

  Still, she had to give Jedidiah a lot of credit. They had passed two wagons and a few men on horseback, and no one had even looked twice at them. Maybe this crazy plan was actually going to work.

  “You never did tell me what you found out about Abigail Hawkins,” she said, breaking the silence.

  He frowned. “There wasn’t much to tell. Mrs. Hawkins did come visit with her friend, but she was only there a day before she picked up a stage to Colorado Springs.”

  “So she’s already gone.” Susannah sighed. “Does her friend know why Mrs. Hawkins is headed for Colorado Springs?”

  “She wanted to catch the train.”

  “Where to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Susannah threw up her hands. “Lord Almighty, Marshal, if that woman gets on the train at Colorado Springs, we’ll never catch her!”

  “I’ve got it under control.”

  “What do you mean, you’ve got it under control? How can you have it under control if you’re here and she’s on her way to Colorado Springs?”

  His jaw tightened in annoyance. “I sent a telegram to an associate of mine who will be watching for her. He’ll stop her from getting on the train.”

  “An associate? You mean another marshal?”

  He winced. “Ah...not exactly.”

  Susannah tapped her fingers on her knee. “What do you mean, not exactly?”

  “Look, you’ll just have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Trust you! You’re asking a lot, Marshal Brown.”

  He pulled up on the reins. The buckboard came to a stop and he turned to her, his sherry-colored eyes narrowed with anger. “Listen, you’re the one in trouble here, not me. All I was supposed to do was take you to Denver for your trial.”

  “Well, that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

  “Sure, in between keeping your neck out of Wayne Caldwell’s noose and trying to track down a witness so I can prove you didn’t kill your employer. If I were just doing my job, I would have had you on the train to Denver already.”

  “Well, don’t let me stop you from doing your job, Marshal Brown!” She glared at him, her heart pounding. Why was she fighting with him? She was grateful for his help and completely trusted him in the matter of tracking down Abigail Hawkins. But something was eating at her, something that made her want to rile his temper until he lost control.

  Jedidiah stared at her for a long, charged moment. He had never met a woman who exasperated him so much, even as she made him want her so badly he could hardly think straight. Her life was on the line, but all he could think of when she put on that snooty attitude was how much he wanted to get her between the sheets and work that sass right out of her.

  He was a U.S. Marshal, by God, and he had a job to do. His personal feelings had no place here.

  “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” he warned, his voice low and controlled. “I’m putting my job on the line to help you out, but maybe I should just take you to Denver and wash my hands of you once and for all.”

  “That does seem to be the way you operate,” she replied, clearly offended. “Whenever someone gets too close, you hightail it out of town.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” He snapped the reins, and the horses moved forward once more.

  “My point exactly,” she murmured. “You’re a coward.”

  “What?” He jerked the horses to a stop and rounded on her, his face taut with affronted male pride. “What did you say?”

  “I said, you’re a coward. Emotionally, anyway.”

  He leaned toward her, his eyes narrowing. “Are you making this personal, princess? Because if you are—”

  “Deny it if you can,” she shot back. “You’re afraid of your own feelings.”

  He took her chin in his hand. Her smoky blue eyes sparkled with challenge, and her pulse pounded at the base of her throat. Her skin was so soft, her mouth so ripe. The woman got to him like no other woman ever had.

  She was dangerous. Luckily, he was an expert on how to handle dangerous situations.

  “I’ve still got those handcuffs,” he warned. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’ll have to get them out.”

  She jerked her chin from his hold. “You’d do it, too.”

  “Bet on it.” He picked up the reins and clucked at the horses to start them moving.

  She gave him a disgusted look and ignored him until the next town came into sight.

  Chalmers was a large, bustling town right on the cattle trail that boasted a real live hotel, several restaurants and rows of shops.

  Susannah caught sight of a dress shop that had her sighing with longing. She loved clothes. And wouldn’t that lovely blue sprigged muslin look wonderful on her? And, oh, that adorable little hat with the flowers on it in the milliner’s window...

  “Forget it,�
�� Jedidiah growled.

  Susannah put her nose in the air and pointedly ignored him. The man had no idea what was important to a woman.

  Jedidiah stopped the buckboard outside the Chalmers Hotel. As he climbed down to tie up the horses, Susannah forgot her pique.

  “Are we staying here?” she asked with excitement. “A real hotel? Perhaps I can even have a bath?”

  Jedidiah grinned at her. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t put my wife up in a decent hotel—especially when she’s expecting?”

  “Why, you’d be the worst kind of cad.” Delighted at the prospect of a real bath, Susannah grinned right back at him.

  “Exactly.” He reached up to help her down out of the wagon, then offered his arm. “I do have a reputation to think of.”

  Susannah took his arm and waddled proudly into the hotel at his side. She sat in a very comfortable chair in the lobby while Jedidiah spoke with the desk clerk. Then he came over and had to help her out the cushy chair, since her enormous belly kept her from doing so herself.

  “If this is what it feels like to really be expecting,” she whispered with a laugh as they mounted the stairs, “it’s a wonder any woman goes through it at all!”

  Jedidiah stopped outside a room and unlocked the door, then turned to look at her with his hand on the knob. “I think you’d look beautiful carrying a child, even if you were as big as a house.”

  The sincere appreciation in his voice brought a blush to her cheeks, and made her heart pound like never before.

  “After you, Mrs. Brown,” he said with a grin, pushing open the door.

  “Don’t get carried away,” she retorted, still flushed from his compliment.

  The room was small but tidy. A bed with a brass headboard took up most of the space. A small table with a lantern on it stood beside the bed, and a washstand and a wardrobe occupied the far wall. A small mirror hung above the washstand. Susannah sank down on the bed with a sigh of relief.