After Sundown

by Shelly Thacker

  Lucas followed them.

  Once they were all inside, Mrs. Greer helped Annie get settled on a couch near the fireplace.

  “Look, McKenna,” Holt said as he closed the front door. “I don’t know what you think I had to do with winter storms hitting us early—”

  “Five or six weeks,” Lucas drawled. “Timing just seems a little convenient to me.”

  “It wasn’t a lie.” Holt gave him an annoyed look as he walked through the parlor toward his adjoining office. “Broken ribs take a month or more to heal, but everyone’s different.”

  “Land sakes, this critter thinks we were plotting to keep you two here?” Mrs. Greer asked Annie as she helped untangle her from the blankets she was wearing. She squinted up at Lucas. “We were not hatchin’ any kind of snow plot—”

  “I already explained that to him,” Annie told her, sounding tired and frustrated.

  “Well, he is the most suspicious, ornery—”

  “Rebecca, he did save her life,” Holt said as he returned to the parlor with his medical bag. “And if that bullet had hit him a half-inch to the left, he wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “And neither would I,” Annie added softly.

  Lucas arched one brow, surprised to hear them defending him. “I was only looking after the welfare of my prisoner,” he said quickly, not sure who he was trying to convince. “And now that she’s healed up, what are our chances of getting home to Missouri before next year?”

  “There’s no way out of here until spring.” Holt set his bag on the chair and opened it, taking out some vials and nasty-looking instruments. “February maybe, March at the latest—”

  “And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?”

  “You don’t believe me, give it a try,” Holt retorted. “Passes around here are littered with the bones of idiots who got trapped by winter storms. First they eat their pack animals, then the leather straps on their packs, then their shoes. Then they die. Some were experienced mountain men. That’s how dangerous it is trying to get through these passes in the winter.”

  Lucas felt his gut knot up. He had spent most of his adult life in the flatlands—Indian Territory, the Red River—had only passed through the Rockies a couple of times. He didn’t know enough about this part of the mountains to know if they were telling him the truth.

  But he remembered how grateful he’d been to set eyes on Eminence tonight—after just two days of getting to know these passes firsthand. Even with a skilled guide, they’d been lucky to make it through alive. He wouldn’t want to count on that kind of luck a second time.

  Still, he wasn’t about to just accept that he and Annie were stuck here until spring. “This stuff could melt in a few days or a week, and we could get out of here.”

  “February or March,” Mrs. Greer told him with an irritated sigh. “Ask anyone who’s spent a few winters at this here altitude.”

  Lucas looked at her. “If that’s true, I suppose it means no mail until then, either?”

  She shook her head. “Might be one last mule train that’ll try and make it through, but probably not.”

  “So I can’t even send a letter to my men, or a letter home to explain.” He clenched his jaw. “My family and my deputies won’t know what the hell happened to me.”

  His gaze settled on Annie.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly as she looked up at him.

  “It’s not your fault.” His voice was sharper than he’d intended.

  Holt came to stand between them. “McKenna, you want to join me in my office and let me stitch up that dent the bullet left in your head?” he asked with an annoyed expression. “I doubt a nasty infection will make you any more pleasant to be around.”

  Lucas eyed the instruments in the doctor’s hands. “It’s just a scratch, Doc. Not sure I want you coming at me with any sharp objects.” He motioned to Annie. “Let’s go.”

  “Hold on, McKenna. At least let me make sure she’s all right before you lock her up again,” Holt said. “She’s been through a hell of a lot.”

  Lucas hesitated.

  “Marshal.” Annie clenched her hands in her lap. “I may still be your prisoner, but you don’t need to watch me every minute. I can’t get out of Eminence at the moment.”

  Lucas glanced from her to her friends, and realized that much was true. At least for now, the passes were closed. She couldn’t go anywhere tonight.

  And maybe not for the next three months.

  “Fine.” Lucas headed for the front door. “When you’re done, you know where you’ll find me.”

  ~ ~ ~

  An hour later, when Lucas stepped into the darkened front room of Dunlap’s hotel, he noticed two things.

  First, a light was burning in the suite at the back.

  And second, the place felt different. Maybe it was the cold weather, the ice on the windows, the moon shining through and casting everything in a silvery glow.

  Or maybe it was that he felt different. Every time he’d walked into his makeshift jail before, he’d been filled with a sense of purpose. Driven by the need to see swift, sure justice done to his brother’s murderer.

  And now it was gone.

  The fury, the determination, the need for retribution. Gone.

  He walked toward the suite and entered the sitting room, dropping his saddlebags on a chair.

  Annie stood at the open door of her cell, her face pale and her eyes wide. “God Almighty, you scared me,” she said, releasing a wavering breath. “I didn’t know who was walking in here.”

  “Didn’t realize I needed to announce myself.”

  She frowned at him. “Your footsteps didn’t sound...” She cut herself off, turned back into her room. “It brought back a memory of the bounty hunter, that’s all. I wasn’t sure where you had gone off to.”

  “Went to see Travis.” He followed her into the cell, which was illuminated by a lantern sitting on the table beside her bed. She still wore the men’s clothes Lily Breckenridge had given her: two shirts and trousers that were too big on her, rolled up at the cuffs, cinched at her waist with a belt.

  The pants hung loosely on her, but they also revealed more of her legs than any skirt. For a moment, Lucas couldn’t take his gaze from her, finding every step she took somehow provocative.

  Desire hit him so hard and fast, his heart and stomach did an odd somersault. He couldn’t catch his breath.

  God help him, how could just looking at her make him ache, make so many conflicting feelings crowd together inside him?

  He glanced away, forcing himself to remember what was important: his duty, his family. He couldn’t allow himself to forget that. Not again.

  When he blinked to steady himself, he finally noticed what she was doing: She had an open satchel sitting on a chair next to the chest of drawers.

  “Is Travis all right?” she asked, stuffing clothes from one of the drawers into the bag.

  “Just fine. What, exactly, are you doing?”

  “Leaving.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

  “I just came to get my things—”

  “To go where?”

  “Rebecca’s. I’m going to stay at Rebecca’s and help out in the store like I used to. Since I’m going to be here all winter, I have to earn my own way somehow. I can’t keep living off my friends’ charity.”

  Lucas frowned, though he couldn’t help admiring her stubborn pride. And her willingness to work hard. Some women would be perfectly happy to sit back and let others cater to them.

  But Annie wasn’t like some women. She wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met.

  Ever.

  “And did you think of maybe clearing this with me?” he asked sharply.

  She turned toward him with an irritated look. “Don’t tell me you were planning to keep me locked up all winter?”

  His eyes burned into hers, and he didn’t reply. At the moment, all he could think of was that he wanted to kiss her. Wanted to t
aste her, feel her body melt against his, hear that husky sound she made when he touched...

  No, damn it.

  It didn’t matter what he wanted.

  Or what he felt.

  “Antoinette, nothing has changed,” he said, trying to sound cool and controlled even as his gaze traced over her features, noticing every small detail: her skin like satin in the lamplight, the tendrils of hair that framed her face, her lashes thick as the black silk fringe on a surrey.

  And the hurt in her dark eyes.

  He turned his back. “And I’m not sure yet that we’re going to be here all winter.”

  “And when do you think you’ll be sure? Another week? A month?”

  “When I know, I’ll let you know.”

  “Am I supposed to stay in this cell until then?”

  “Am I supposed to just let you walk out of here?”

  “It doesn’t make sense, Marshal! I can’t leave town. You might not believe what everyone keeps saying, but I do.” She resumed her packing. “You can’t keep me here all winter.”

  “Legally, I can.” I have to.

  She slammed the drawer shut and gave him an exasperated look. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you would be difficult about this?”

  “You’re still in my custody—”

  “And you’re still taking me back to Missouri. So I can stand trial. And probably spend the rest of my life in prison.”

  He gestured angrily to the snow beyond her barred windows. “That just might be a moot question until next spring.”

  He didn’t say the rest.

  That part of him hoped the damned passes stayed closed, was grateful for the snow.

  “If it’s a moot question until next spring,” she said, “there’s no reason to keep me in a cell all winter.”

  Lucas stared at the rug, heard her close the last drawer and snap the satchel shut.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I haven’t said you could go, Antoinette.”

  “Marshal,” she said, her voice brittle, as if it might break. As if she might break. “For once, I am making a decision.”

  She started to walk out.

  “There’s still the matter of a five-thousand-dollar bounty on your head,” he said tightly. “Or have you already forgotten that nice gentleman who took you out of here a few days ago? You want to risk bringing someone like him—or worse—into Mrs. Greer’s place?”

  That stopped her. As he had known it would.

  She turned in the doorway. He could see her thinking it over, knew she wouldn’t do anything that might put her friend at risk.

  “If nobody can get out of Eminence through those passes,” she said, “I doubt anybody could get in, either.”

  “There’s a lot of nasty SOBs in the West who’d risk more than frostbite for the chance at five thousand dollars,” Lucas pointed out. “And there might already be another bounty hunter or two in town. How long do you think that first one was prowling around before he made his move?” He nodded toward the sitting room. “And five minutes ago, you thought I was someone dangerous coming in here.”

  Annie glanced from the barred windows to the door, and shivered.

  Lucas moved to stand beside her. “You’re staying here,” he told her more gently, “where I can keep an eye on you.”

  As he took the satchel out of her hands, she regarded him with a look of frustration and annoyance. And tears shone in her eyes.

  Lucas felt like he’d just taken a double load of buckshot in the gut. All day, he had been trying to convince himself that he could subdue these unfamiliar, unwanted feelings she stirred in him.

  But seeing her this way, seeing her almost in tears because of what he was doing, tore that idea to shreds. Because it tore him to shreds.

  “Consider it protective custody,” he said gruffly. “Anyone else tries to kidnap you or hurt you, they’re going to have to go through me first.”

  He intended to keep her safe.

  And he intended to keep in mind that she was his prisoner—because that was the only way he was going to make it through the winter days ahead.

  And the winter nights.

  ~ ~ ~

  The prospector slipped into the dark alley behind the abandoned mercantile, his boots crunching in the snow. Despite the frigid air, sweat soaked through his shirt and the patched woolen coat he wore. Twice, he paused to glance back over his shoulder.

  Just when it seemed like a feller could get a break, everything had to go and take a turn for the worse. He’d been nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers all night.

  It wasn’t twelve-thirty yet, but his friend was already waiting, a cigarette in his teeth, the tip glowing red in the darkness.

  “You heard yet?” the prospector whispered as he sidled up next to him. “He’s staying.”

  “Hyup.”

  “All winter.”

  “Hyup.”

  The prospector glared at him in the moonlight. “You were gonna take care of him,” he hissed. “What happened to your ripsnortin’ plan?”

  “Couldn’t get at ’im before.” His friend blew a smoke ring that hung suspended in the air for a second. “Has to look like an accident, ’member?”

  The prospector grumbled a curse, but knew it was true. From the day the damned marshal first showed up in town, he hardly ever left his jail for long—and with womenfolk going in and out, and that Ballard kid there all the time, things had been dicey. They couldn’t just walk in and shoot him.

  “Well, Jumpin’ Jehosaphat, we got to do something. Can’t even go to Fairfax’s no more—I just about pissed myself when he came in like he done, in the middle of the day.”

  “Yeah, and you made sure to make a nice fast getaway. So now he’ll think you had a reason. Sees us again, he’s likely to take a good long look—and remember our faces from all them wanted posters. Like our ‘last big job’ that was s’posed to let us retire. Union Pacific ain’t gonna rest until they string us up for stealin’ that payroll and killin’ them two station masters—”

  “Then we just have to do like we planned. Get rid of him ’afore we get locked up. But it’s gotta be real sneaky like. Somethin’ that can’t be pinned on us. Somethin’ where there ain’t no witnesses.” The prospector started thinking. “Avalanche maybe. Or a cave-in, if we could get him out to one of them empty old mine shafts—”

  “Be best if we wasn’t around when it happened,” his friend drawled. “That’s sorta important for the ‘can’t be pinned on us’ part.”

  The prospector scratched at his beard. “Give my last good tooth for a rattler or a gila monster long ’bout now.”

  “How many rattlers or gila monsters you ever seen in these parts? In the winter?”

  “Well, I don’t hear you coming up with nothing.” The prospector hit his friend in the arm. “So far you been about as useless as a wart on a pretty gal’s bottom. What ideas you got?”

  “None yet. But I’ll think of somethin’.” He ground out the cigarette beneath his boot. “That lawman ain’t gonna live long enough to see springtime.”

  Chapter 15

  A half-dozen townsfolk gathered around the potbellied stove in the middle of the general store, all chatting and laughing while some of their children played jacks on the sawdust-covered floor. With December snows holding the mountains captive, nobody had much to do in Eminence. Most of the prospectors wintered in town, some with their wives, staying at nearby cabins or the various boardinghouses while they waited for the first touch of spring to work their claims again. Folks mainly spent their time visiting with friends and neighbors rarely seen in busier seasons.

  Annie leaned on the counter, frowning as she sketched out an idea for a Christmas window display. She tried to find pleasure in the familiar smells of spices, tobacco, and coffee that filled the air around her, and in the genial buzz of conversation from the homesteaders and miners.

  But none of it lifted her spirits. Not even the small measure of freedom she’d been
granted the past few days.

  During the first two weeks after she and Lucas had returned to Eminence, he had kept her securely in the jail, like before. Then he had grudgingly accepted the fact that they were, indeed, stuck here for the winter—after talking to people in town, and several prospectors who’d lived in the area most of their lives, and even riding out to study the passes himself.

  Finally, after much grumbling, he had relented a week ago and allowed her to start working at Rebecca’s during the day—though he’d made it clear that she was still expected to return every evening by dusk. He had let her out of the cell, but not out of jail.

  Once he’d unlocked her cell door, he had moved into a room down the hall, giving her the suite all to herself. The two of them had mostly kept their distance since then—and barely managed to be civil to each other. Like they were strangers.

  But they weren’t strangers.

  Not since that day in the dugout, when she had told him everything, and he had held her so tenderly, whispered her name...

  Kissed her...

  Annie shut her eyes, trying to forget—and instead remembering every vivid detail.

  The ravishing heat of his mouth... his hands on her bare skin... his touch as he stroked her intimately... the weight of his body against hers... the silky heat and hardness of him inside her...

  Blinking, she had to press her palms against the countertop to steady herself, feeling flushed and breathless. God help her, she was trembling. And she had dropped her pen on the floor. Frowning, she picked it up and returned her attention to her sketch.

  She had promised herself that she would put that reckless, foolish day behind her. That she wouldn’t let her thoughts get all addled again—or her heart get broken. Lucas had made it clear that his duty and the law mattered more to him than anything. That he didn’t care about her.

  He had risked his life to save hers, but only because he was seeing to the welfare of his prisoner.

  A prisoner he intended to return to Missouri at the first opportunity, and hand over to the authorities.

  His cold words still echoed through her memory.

  Nothing has changed.