by Debra Cowan
“And they ran you out of town because of her?” Josie asked incredulously.
“I vouched for her. People didn’t take kindly to their sheriff having such lousy judgment. Who could blame them? I’m a lawman. I should’ve at least suspected something about her wasn’t right.”
No wonder he was so diligent about watching the stage, checking in with every new arrival. The cold gleam in his eye had Josie swallowing hard.
“As you can probably guess, I have a special aversion to liars.” His voice was soft, ragged with an edge Josie had never heard from anyone. “And I’m real careful about who comes into my town. I’ll never let something like that happen again.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I trusted her when I shouldn’t have. Other people suffered for it.”
Josie fought the apprehension spreading through her. He had good reason to be suspicious of everyone, of her. She was lying to him, just as that other woman had. If he ever found out, ever looked at her with that same unforgiving bleakness in his eyes, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.
She should’ve changed the subject, done something to keep from giving in to the urge to soothe him, but all she cared about was the pain beneath his words, the blow his pride had suffered. All she wanted right now was to erase the self-loathing on his face.
Without thinking, she lifted a hand and cupped his cheek.
Looking startled, he reined the buggy to a stop, his eyes dark and hot on hers.
“Davis Lee, I haven’t known you all that long, but I know you’re an honest man, a good man. You care deeply about this town and everyone in it. I’m sure it was the same in Rock River.”
“That doesn’t excuse—”
She placed her fingers against his lips, shivering at the feel of his hot breath through her gloves. “We can’t help who we fall in love with. You weren’t at fault for the things that woman did. She’s the only one responsible.”
Riley had told him the same thing, but somehow, coming from Josie, the words took on a new significance. They were at the edge of town; the sounds of raucous laughter and voices drifted from the saloon. Friday and Saturday nights always saw the cowboys from neighboring ranches coming into Whirlwind to blow off some steam and spend their pay. Only occasionally did they cause any trouble.
Right now his mind was on the trouble sitting next to him. He reached up and gently removed Josie’s hand, folding hers into his much-bigger one. “Josie—”
“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” she asked softly. “A man who would nurse a near-stranger back to health. A man who has the compassion to bring a puppy to a widow to help ease her pain.”
A man who wants to drag this woman into his lap and kiss her senseless, he added silently. The dark thrum in his blood urged him to do it; so did the soft look in her green eyes. Somehow he resisted, managed to put the buggy in motion and start through town while still holding her hand.
She stunned him. Amazed him. He had thought to tell her about Betsy only to see how she would react, see if guilt would cross her face when he talked about the lying woman from his past. But somewhere in the telling, he found himself confiding in her because he wanted to.
His hand squeezed hers. “I’ve never told anyone except Riley.”
Emotion flared in her eyes. “You can trust me not to say a word to anyone.”
Trust her? Instinct told him he shouldn’t trust her at all, yet he’d done just that. They reached the hotel and he released her hand, but instead of stepping out of the buggy to help her down, he turned to her. “Since I’ve been honest with you, Josie, why don’t you be honest, too? Why did you really come to Whirlwind?”
He saw her pulse jerk in her neck. “I told you why.”
Maybe she’d told him part of the truth, but his gut knew she hadn’t told him all of it. “I considered that maybe you came here because the memories in Galveston were too painful.”
Her whole body locked up.
“Was it too hard to stay there because you’re still in love with William?”
“No.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“Does your coming here have something to do with the time I found you in my jail?”
She looked down, her voice trembling. “Is that why you’re interested in me? Because you think I’m hiding something and you want to know what?”
“No,” he said quietly. His only interest in her should be to discover her secrets, but it wasn’t. “I’m just curious as to why you would leave your family and move so far away? What’s here for you?”
“There’s nothing there for me.” She fisted her hands in her lap. “My parents are dead.”
His heart clenched. “I’m sorry.”
She fiddled with her gloves, the edges of her coat.
“You have no other family?”
She shook her head.
“Why Whirlwind?”
“Why not?”
He waited, sensing a struggle within her. She gave a hoarse laugh. “I got on the stage, and when it stopped here, I thought this was a nice town. I wanted to stay.”
“So you just ended up here?” he asked skeptically.
Her gaze leveled into his. “Haven’t you ever ended up somewhere you hadn’t planned to?”
Yes. Back here, by way of Rock River. “I guess so.”
He knew she was holding back, but he also felt that she was starting to trust him. He wanted that as much as he wanted answers.
She looked so pretty in her ice-pink gown with the moonlight touching her face, skimming the hair she’d gathered back loosely. He wanted to kiss her again, wanted to do more than that.
The Baldwin brothers’ blunt questions from earlier tonight replayed in Davis Lee’s mind. They didn’t think he was involved with Josie the way he’d led them to believe. They had made their intentions toward her very clear, especially Matt. And something inside Davis Lee had snapped. He’d claimed her for a dance, knowing that if he didn’t, every man there would know inside of five minutes that she was available. And she wasn’t.
He might not trust her, but he wanted her. Until he figured out what to do about it, the only man she spent time with would be him.
He stepped out of the buggy and went around to help her out. At the hotel’s front door, he opened it, holding her arm for a moment longer than necessary. He managed to keep from wrapping a tendril of her hair around his finger.
She looked up at him, thoughtful and unguarded. “Thank you for telling me.”
He nodded. As certain as he was that she was up to something regarding McDougal, he was just as certain that she would keep his confidence. “Good night.”
“Good night.” She started inside.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow evening at six-thirty.”
“What?” She pivoted. “Why?”
The look on her face—part eagerness, part apprehension—had him grinning. “For your lesson.”
She stared hard at him. “I thought you were too busy.”
He stepped down onto the street and shrugged. “I’ve worked things out.”
“I’ve already made other arrangements.”
“Change them.”
Her chin came up. “But I’m doing fine with Jake.”
She wasn’t going to be doing fine or anything else with Jake from now on. “I’ll feel better knowing exactly what instruction you’re getting.”
“Why have you changed your mind?” Her eyes narrowed.
He climbed into the buggy. “I thought you wanted me to teach you.”
“I do. I did.” She shook her head as if trying to clear it. “Why?”
“Don’t worry about telling Jake. I’ll see he finds out.”
She crossed her arms, looking at him expectantly. He just grinned. When she realized he wasn’t going to bend, she said grudgingly, “All right.”
He waited until she was inside the hotel before he turned the buggy around and headed for the livery. The low din of noise and of
f-key piano music from the saloon rumbled around him. Two cowboys staggered across the street up ahead and Davis Lee kept an eye on them until they slumped down in front of Ef’s blacksmithy and nodded off.
Slowly he was gaining Josie’s trust. She had told him her parents had died, as had her fiancé. Had those deaths somehow compelled her to come here, to Whirlwind? One way or another he would figure out why she had come.
Chapter Eleven
Davis Lee had lain awake a long time last night, thinking about Josie’s hand on his face, her fingers on his lips, the fiercely earnest look in her green eyes. He sure did like her even though he knew she wasn’t shooting straight with him.
That fact should’ve blistered him up more than it did. He should be thinking about how to get her secrets out of her, not how to get her out of her clothes, which was where his mind had stayed since he’d kissed her. He’d gotten about as far with her as he had with finding out who’d taken a shot at his prisoner.
But on this Saturday morning, he couldn’t work on either one. Luther and Odell demanded his full attention. About an hour before lunch, Davis Lee stood in Pete Carter’s saloon, eyeing the two over-sixty gentlemen whose antics had brought him here at least once a week every week for the past two years.
Luther Grimes and Odell Pickett were mostly harmless until they got too much liquor in them. Then some old feud—to this day no one in town knew about what—caught up to them and they threatened to duel.
Late-morning sunshine bounced through one of Pete’s large windows, shooting sharp points of light from the glass scattered across the scratched wooden floor. Besides Pete and his boy, Creed, Davis Lee, Luther and Odell were the only ones in the saloon. It being the weekend, those two weren’t the lone drunks in town, but they were the only ones causing problems at the moment. The cowboys who’d come to town last night to spend their pay on whiskey were now sleeping it off either upstairs or outside.
The culprits leaned back against the bar and Davis Lee eyed both of them, knowing the counter at their backs was the only thing keeping them propped up.
“So, now y’all have gone and busted Pete’s mirror.”
“It weren’t not me,” Luther slurred.
“It was’n, too,” Odell yelled.
Davis Lee pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve had more than one complaint about y’all today.”
Odell Pickett was slight with a knobby frame and neatly trimmed hair. He set great store by his thinning, gray-streaked hair and had Tony Santos trim it every week. Usually right before he and Luther got busy in Pete’s saloon.
Luther Grimes was no taller than Odell, both hitting Davis Lee right about the chin, but he was built like a bull, and nearly as strong as one. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, just thick hard muscle and an even worse aim than Josie. Davis Lee smiled at that.
So far he had been saved from carting one or both of them to the undertaker in Abilene because they could barely hit a target when they were sober much less drunk. And half the time their guns weren’t even loaded.
After the second time he’d been called to the saloon because the old men were shooting up the place, he had made some rules. If they wanted to drink, they had to turn their bullets over to Pete and they couldn’t get the ammunition back until they were sober. Over the past two years, a bullet or two had been overlooked, which was why Pete’s floor, ceiling and walls had gouge marks from where stray lead had dug into them.
Until today that had been the only damage. One of the old coots had shot the mirror behind the bar, which had Pete sending Creed for Davis Lee.
“Y’all are gonna have to pay for the mirror.”
“I’m not payin’ ’cuz I didn’ hit it.” Odell glared at him.
“Well, I’m not payin’ for it, either.” Luther poked Odell in the shoulder.
The other man rounded with a raised fist, lost his balance and grabbed the edge of the bar.
“You’re both paying.”
They mumbled incoherently.
Davis Lee braced his hands on his hips. “This has been going on for two years and I want it stopped.”
“You gonna make us, Sheriff?” Odell blustered. The old guy swaggered toward Davis Lee then wilted to the floor.
Davis Lee shook his head, glancing at Pete, who looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or spit nails. Luther pushed away from the bar and lurched toward Odell, waving his gun around like a dadgum flag.
Davis Lee stepped over the man on the floor and plucked the weapon out of Luther’s hand. “I’m gonna count to three then y’all better scoot.”
Luther wobbled over to a table, sank down into a nearby chair and flopped over to rest his head on his folded arms. “I’ll just sleep it off in here.”
Davis Lee looked at Pete who nodded. “Sure, as long as he sleeps.”
“You heard him, Luther.”
The old man wheezed out a breath in answer. Davis Lee turned and held out a hand to help Odell to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“I’m gonna stay here, too.”
“No. Getting y’all separated is the whole idea of me coming down here.”
“Well, that ain’t your call, Sheriff.”
Davis Lee pushed back his hat and said drolly, “Seeing as how I’m sober and standing, and have bullets in my gun, I’d say it is. Get up.”
“Ain’t gonna.”
“All right then.” Davis Lee wasn’t angry but he was fed up. He stepped over Odell, grabbed the back of his shirt just below the neck and started dragging him toward the swinging doors.
Odell put up a fuss, yelling and hollering like his head was being pulled off. He started kicking his feet.
Davis Lee held on tight, pushed his way outside and hauled the man to his feet. As the old cuss teetered and wobbled, Davis Lee was aware that a couple of people stood behind him under the saloon’s awning. He took a hold of Odell’s arm and half pulled, half pushed him into the street and straight for the horse trough that sat between here and the livery.
Odell held up a hand to block the bright sun and stumbled. The old man squinted against the light. “Where are we goin’?”
“To sober you up.”
“Noooooo!” He squealed like a schoolgirl who’d had her pigtails yanked. “Sheriff, don’t be dunkin’ me in that horse trough again. I don’t like it!”
“You should’ve heeded my last warning.”
“There’s horse spit and all kinds of things in there.”
“I told you to quit your warring with Luther, but you didn’t. And then you resisted authority in the saloon.” Davis Lee added that last for good measure, hoping it would shock some soberness into Odell’s liquor-soaked brain.
The old man planted his feet, trying to dig in his heels with his slight weight. He twisted and strained back toward the saloon. Since he didn’t weigh more than a drowned rat, Davis Lee easily reeled him around and pushed him face down into the trough. Water splashed all over Davis Lee’s black wool trousers and the tops of his boots.
Odell came up sputtering and coughing. Davis Lee forced the old man’s head back under the water for a second. After another dunk, he surfaced, shaking his head hard and spraying Davis Lee’s pants and shirt. “All right, Sheriff.” He panted the words. “I give.”
Davis Lee helped him up and nudged him toward the livery. “Go home. Don’t come back over here today. Next time I break up one of these fights, I’m takin’ both you and Luther to jail.”
“All right.” The man staggered off, his shirt and dark trousers sticking to his spindly frame. He was so skinny his shadow had holes in it.
Davis Lee looked down at his shirtsleeves, wet past his wrists. The thighs and knees of his trousers were damp. He shook his head in disgust, rolling back his sleeves as he turned around. He caught sight of Josie standing under the awning, one gloved hand wrapped around a support post, her green eyes dancing.
“Hey,” he said in surprise. Beneath a brown velvet bowler hat, her hair was swept up
into some kind of twist that bared her nape and her dainty ears. “Not thinking about going in there to drink, are you?”
“Lands, no.” She glanced in Odell’s direction. “I certainly don’t want you dunking me in the horse trough.”
His gaze slid over the dark-honey-colored bodice that gloved her breasts and waist. The brown velvet buttons down the front matched the same color in the brown, cream and black striped skirt. “I wouldn’t mess up that pretty dress.”
She smoothed her skirts and gave him a little smile that darkened her eyes.
A little smile that had him thinking about what else she might do with that mouth. “I thought I wouldn’t see you until tonight.”
“So we’re still having a lesson?”
“I’m planning on it.”
“Good.”
She looked so pleased that Davis Lee figured he better gather up what common sense he still had and use it. “So, if you’re not here to drink, why are you here?”
“I’m looking at the stagecoach schedule.”
“Why? Are you leaving town?”
“Yes.” She turned away from him to study the paper stuck to the other side of the post. “It’s for my business.”
She was leaving? Davis Lee’s stomach dropped to his knees. He had been kidding. He hadn’t considered for a moment that she might leave. Forcing the words past his suddenly dry throat, he said, “I guess you’d get more customers in a bigger town.”
She glanced over with a smile. “I’m only leaving for a day. I need to go to Abilene for some fabric.”
Only a day. His chest felt strangely light. “The stage ran there yesterday. It won’t go again until Wednesday.”
“That’s four days,” she groaned.
“You in a hurry?” He grinned as he edged closer, admiring the smoothness of her peach-tinted skin. She smelled fresh and sweet, especially after Odell.
“I need some lace for Catherine’s wedding gown. It has to be sewn on before I can finish her dress. She’s expecting it next weekend, and if I have to wait until Wednesday to go to Abilene, the dress won’t be ready. Once I finish that, I can start on Mrs. Eishen’s order.”