by Debra Cowan
“I didn’t say he was lookin’ for ’em.” His gaze sharpened on her face. “What did you want with Doc Butler? Checking to see why he was in my jail?”
“Am I supposed to report my activities to you, Sheriff?” she snapped, annoyed at how vividly she recalled the hard warmth of his chest cradling her. “I must’ve forgotten.”
“Want me to think you’re spyin’ on me, Josie?” His low tone raised the hairs on her neck.
“I wanted to thank the doctor for the herbs Catherine used to make my poultice,” she said defiantly, arching an eyebrow. “All right?”
His prolonged silence unnerved her and she tamped down the urge to squirm, feeling compelled to add, “He said he was glad to see me up and about.”
Davis Lee’s blue gaze did a slow slide over her, flicking her nerve endings sharply. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. Even knowing that the desire to feel his mouth on hers was an effect of her weakened state, she was skittish. “In fact, I feel well enough to resume my shooting lessons, if you would be so kind.”
A subtle tension lashed his body. “You sure?”
“Yes.” The way he affected her had her reconsidering the lessons altogether. But thinking about her parents and William told her that not learning to shoot was just as risky as being in close proximity to Davis Lee.
His gaze searched her face. “Did you want to start tonight?”
Tonight! She might rather take her chances with the sheriff, but she needed a little time to prepare herself. “Uh, no. How about Saturday? Or Monday?”
“Tomorrow’s better than Monday. Same time as last?”
“Between six-thirty and seven would be fine.” She glanced around, catching sight of Charlie Haskell standing in the doorway of his store watching her with Davis Lee. The older man gave her a big smile and nodded approvingly.
Something he and his nephew had said yesterday when they paid her a visit made sense now. She lowered her voice. “Are you trying to make people think there’s something going on between us?”
He grinned and pushed his hat back, making her stomach do a slow drop to her feet. “Are people starting to think that?”
He looked far too pleased with himself and she narrowed her eyes. “Charlie and Mitchell both told me that you’ve been asking after me, quite a lot. Just now, the Baldwins seemed to think something along the same lines and so did Dr. Butler. You did nothing to correct that impression.”
She crossed her arms and lowered her voice. “And I’m sure Charlie at least has noticed all the attention you’ve been paying to my hotel window since you’ve taken no pains to be discreet.”
Davis Lee laughed. “The way you have?”
She flushed. Though she had kept her distance since Tuesday night, she refused to abandon her spot at the window.
“Seems to me, people would also notice all the attention you’ve been paying to my jail.”
His husky voice had her toes curling inside her button-up boots. One time when she’d seen him watching her from the street below, she’d waved just to taunt him. Perhaps that had been ill-advised.
She sniffed. “I can hardly help the direction my window faces.”
“And maybe I just enjoy looking at a pretty woman, like all the other men in this town.”
That irritated her no end and she ignored the pleasure that streaked through her when he said she was pretty. “We both know you’re not lookin’ because you’re sweet on me.”
“Are you sure?” His gaze dropped to her lips just as it had the other night.
She didn’t like the sudden skip of her heartbeat or the slow heat that rolled through her body. It was caused by the snakebite, she told herself. Not those hot blue eyes. This was simply proof that nothing about her body was back to proper working order. “Yes, I’m sure you’re not sweet on me.”
She picked up her skirts and turned to go. “You should stop being so obvious. People will talk.”
“Honey, that doesn’t bother me as much as it seems to bother you.”
“Fine. Watch all you want.” She lifted her chin and started back to the hotel.
She’d taken only two steps when he asked, “Just exactly what are you always watchin’ from up there, Josie?”
The low rasp of his voice had her faltering. She knew he was goading her and she wanted to push back. Prodded by some wicked demon, she threw him a look over her shoulder and said sweetly, “Why, Sheriff, I’m watchin’ you.”
That drew him up and heat flared in his eyes.
A shiver chased down her spine and Josie hurried off, biting back a laugh. She hoped she had knocked him off balance the way he frequently did her. It would serve him right for encouraging the impression they were involved. Of course, continuing her shooting lessons with him would only further the impression. The thought of seeing him every day was enough to send anticipation curling slyly through her.
Nonsense. All she needed—wanted—from Davis Lee Holt was to learn how to handle a gun. Not how to handle him.
Her voice slid over him like smoky velvet. He wanted to get his hands, his mouth on her. All over her. Wanted to thumb open every damn button down the front of her dress.
Davis Lee started after her, moving on impulse and not one whit of common sense. He was steps away from the hotel when he realized what he was doing and jerked to a stop.
Stalking back to the jail, he muttered curses the whole way, ignoring the curious looks from Pearl Anderson and Tony Santos who had both stepped out of their businesses.
Josie Webster was causing all kinds of havoc with his mind—his body—and it made him mad as a hornet. That sultry look in her eyes made him want to say to hell with his misgivings about her and get her naked. Which would be the stupidest, most dangerous thing he could do.
It had been plain to him that the Baldwin brothers had imagined her without her blue, yellow and white plaid dress, too. They’d eyed her like she was one of those half-dressed dance hall girls they’d seen in Dallas last year and still talked about. And Josie had clearly enjoyed the attention. Thinking about her being with one or the other of the brothers made Davis Lee’s teeth clench.
He shook his head. He only cared about Josie’s company because he wanted to know what she had up her sleeve. Maybe she really had simply been thanking Dr. Butler, but Davis Lee didn’t think so. He’d bet his last dollar that she had been trying to find out if the doctor had seen Ian McDougal.
She was lying and Davis Lee had better not forget it again. Which would be darn hard after the interest he’d seen in her hot green eyes.
He considered using that advantage, playing on the pull between them to see if he could gain her trust and get the truth out of her. But in the next breath he dismissed the thought. He knew what it was like to be conned, to be used. He couldn’t bring himself to do the same to her even if she did drive him to distraction.
There was something about her…some lost look buried deep in her eyes. It made his insides twist up when he looked at her. He told himself he had a soft spot for her only because he’d seen her on the brink of death, but the tangle of emotion he felt when he saw her seemed more than that. He figured that would disappear as soon as he found out what she had planned. And he would find out. Even if he had to stick to her like a cockleburr, he would stop whatever she had planned.
The same heat that had moved through his chest the other night returned and he wrestled it down. Thanks to Betsy, his eyes were wide-open. If he let down his guard because of a pair of gorgeous green eyes, he would have only himself to blame.
He had no intention of making that mistake again, not with Josie Webster, not with anyone.
Hours later, when midnight hovered and the town had settled, Davis Lee finally stepped inside the jail and closed the door. He’d kept a close eye on the hotel all night. Josie hadn’t stepped foot outside since he’d seen her this afternoon; her room had gone dark an hour ago.
He checked to make sure McDou
gal was asleep and that the cell was secure. Then Davis Lee pulled the iron bed with its thin mattress from the second cell, through the connecting door and into his office. He settled the bed in the space between the window and his desk. He didn’t expect trouble, but he always liked to be near the door in case it came. A quiet, uneventful night would be nice. Right now, Josie Webster was about all the trouble he cared to handle.
After removing his gun belt, he eased down on the edge of the bed and toed off his boots. Thoughts of her had been buzzing around his head ever since this afternoon.
“Why, Sheriff, I’m watchin’ you.”
As hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Or the blood from surging to his groin. She was a cool one, keeping her composure even when he knew she was rattled. Sure made him want to see if he could crack that calm veneer.
Grunting, he flopped back on the mattress and closed his eyes, telling himself to stop thinking about her.
Sometime later, he came awake with a start. His feet hit the floor as he registered the clanging of a bell. The fire bell. The town council had placed one cow bell in the livery, another inside the church at the other end of town.
He tugged on his boots, grabbed his gun belt and jammed the keys to the cell doors into his trouser pocket as he ran outside. Flames flared in the pastureland behind Pete Carter’s saloon. Davis Lee rushed across the street and into the alley between the saloon and the livery stable. People streamed out of the line of houses situated behind the jail, some from the businesses where they also lived.
“What’s happening?” someone yelled.
“Not sure yet!”
The fire burned about fifty yards from Pete’s saloon. He and Ef Gerard were already beating at the flames with wet blankets. Murmurs and cries of surprise sounded behind Davis Lee as more people learned of the fire.
He slowed, coming to a stop at Ef’s shoulder. The flames were nearly out, dying in a circle of burned earth.
“Did you see what happened?” he asked, his chest heaving as he buckled on his gun belt and reached down to tie the leather thong around his thigh.
“No.” The big blacksmith turned, his dark arms bulging with muscle as he brought the blanket down with the force of his hammer. “No damage done, though. ’Cept to the grass. Pete smelled smoke and yelled for me. I guess we got here in time.”
Davis Lee’s lungs pumped hard as he tried to catch his breath. The fire wasn’t close to the livery or the saloon but in a few minutes more it would’ve been.
Pete beat at some remaining embers. “Probably some kid trying a smoke. It don’t look like they meant to hurt nothin’.”
The fire was nearly extinguished as people made their way to the site.
Davis Lee shook his head. “Who would—”
The sharp crack of a gunshot behind him cut off his words. He spun. The sound had come from town and not too far away. Something in his gut told him to move and he bolted. As he reached Whirlwind’s main street, his gaze passed over the people in pairs or small groups. No one appeared to be hurt, but they were curious about the gunshot. Who had fired that shot and why?
He slowed as he crossed the street to the jail. People had come out of their homes in town as had those whose quarters were above their businesses like Charlie Haskell and the Doyle brothers.
“Davis Lee! What’s happened?” The question came from Cal Doyle, whose law office sat next to Haskell’s General Store. “I heard a shot!”
“I’m looking into it now. There was a fire behind Carter’s saloon, but it’s under control.”
Pearl Anderson and her youngest daughter stood with Charlie and his nephew, Mitchell Orr, on the porch of Pearl’s restaurant.
“Everything’s all right, folks,” Davis Lee said from the bottom step of the jail. “Ef and Pete have the fire nearly out.”
Josie suddenly joined Pearl and the others. He couldn’t tell which direction she’d come from and he hoped it wasn’t from his jail.
Now that he was close enough, he could hear McDougal carrying on inside like a stuck hog. Davis Lee mounted the steps to the jail, watching as Josie walked with the small group of people back toward the hotel.
“Somebody just tried to kill me!” Ian yelled as soon as Davis Lee got through the door. “Sheriff!”
“I hear you.” He grabbed a lantern and lit it then went to Ian’s cell. Someone had tried to kill the outlaw? Was the attempt related to the fire? The blaze would have served well as a distraction to get Davis Lee away from here.
“Look at this!” The youngest and only remaining McDougal stood square in the center of his cell pointing at the pine planked floor. “They took a shot at me!”
“Did you see who it was?” Davis Lee searched the shadows around the outlaw’s body.
“No, it was too dark for one thing. And they barely peeked through that window.”
Davis Lee could see the glint of dull metal now. The lead had plowed into the wood floor.
“It pinged off the bars,” McDougal said, his eyes wild. “Then went into the floor.”
“You didn’t hear or see anything else?”
“No, just that commotion before you ran out. Somebody screamed there was a fire.”
“Yeah.”
“I was looking out the window and trying to get someone’s attention to tell me what was going on when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Someone stuck a gun in my face and I barely had time to duck before the gun went off.”
“They were that close and they missed?”
“You don’t have to sound so disappointed.” Ian gripped the bars, glancing again at the window. “Whoever it was is a lousy shot.”
“I guess they’d have to be. Did you see their face? Anything?”
“Just the gun and the hand holding it.”
“Man’s hand?”
“I’m not sure. It happened too quick.” He coughed, pressing his face to the bars. “Maybe they won’t miss next time. I think you should move me to the other cell.”
“Later.” A lousy shot? Davis Lee didn’t like the thought that grabbed hold of him. He turned down the lantern and hung it just on the other side of the door as he walked out.
“Where’re you going?” the outlaw demanded. “You can’t leave me here.”
“Push your bed against the far bars and don’t get in front of the window. I’ll be back.”
“Do you think you know who did this?”
Davis Lee didn’t answer. He hoped he didn’t know, but he couldn’t rid himself of the suspicion chewing at him. He’d seen Josie too close to the jail for him to let it pass without some answers.
With people stopping him along the way to ask questions, it took him a bit longer than usual to get from the jail to the Whirlwind Hotel. Was the fire out for certain? Did he know what had happened? When would he know?
“Simmer down, folks. No one was hurt. No one was even near the flames.” None of them seemed near as bothered by that gunshot as he was.
The hotel blazed with lamps and candlelight. Davis Lee stalked inside and headed for the stairs, glancing at a group of people gathered in the dining room.
Catching sight of a silky fall of chestnut hair and a familiar dress, he changed direction and went past the stairs instead. Josie stood with Penn and Esther Wavers, Charlie and his nephew. They were all chattering about the fire.
“Did anyone else hear a gunshot?” Mitchell asked.
“I did.” Josie drew a light, soft yellow shawl closer around her shoulders, wearing the same blue, yellow and white plaid dress she’d had on earlier. “Who would be shooting and why?”
Just what Davis Lee intended to find out. He stopped behind her, wondering how she could smell like honeysuckle even so late at night. He gripped her elbow, ready when she started violently at his touch.
“Evenin’, folks.” He tried to unclench his teeth and sound calm. “Looks like everything is settled now. I need to talk to Miz Webster for a minute.”
“I don�
��t—” She broke off when he squeezed her arm in warning.
He turned, feeling her balk. Ignoring the startled looks on the others’ faces, he tugged hard. She took a little hop-step and hurried to catch up.
“He’s checking on her,” Esther said. “How sweet.”
Mitchell muttered something Davis Lee didn’t catch.
Josie tried to wrestle her arm out of his hold. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing.”
He didn’t ease up, just dragged her back into the lobby. He wanted to talk to her in private, but where? Not outside. Too many interruptions. Her room? That wouldn’t do for her reputation.
Seeing the door behind the registration desk that led to Penn’s small office, Davis Lee snatched up a lit candle from the corner of the wooden counter and hauled Josie behind it.
“What is going on?” She pushed at his hand with her free one, trying to pry his fingers loose.
“Get in there.” He released her to open the door.
She lunged away in an attempt to run, but he easily grabbed her around the waist and picked her up.
She gasped, shoving at his arm. “Put me down this instant!”
He elbowed his way inside the dark, windowless room then kicked the door shut and set her on her feet. The candle provided only enough light to see her face. Immediately he was hit with the softness of her scent, the isolation of their location. “I want to talk to you.”
“Not in here.” She reached for the doorknob. “We’re alone.”
He slammed a palm against the door and said through gritted teeth, “You don’t want me asking these questions in front of an audience.”
“What questions?”
He nudged his body between her and the only way out, forcing her back one step then another. The candle’s flame flickered with his movement. Even in the poor light, her eyes were luminous, her skin polished like pearl.
Irritated at himself for even noticing, Davis Lee cornered her the way he would a stray cow, crowding her without touch to move to the place he wanted her. He backed her the few feet across the room and set the candle down on Penn’s small rolltop desk. The tiny flame threw a small oval of light against the wall.