by Natalie Dean
“What was last night about?”
“Didn’t Simon fill you in?”
A vein popped out on his brother’s forehead, which told Andy to tread carefully. “He did, but I’d like you to give your version since his is rather limited.”
Andy told him—in the briefest of terms—what had happened the night before. He might be a deputy marshal, but he was as qualified as his brother in this situation.
“So you took it upon yourself to act the Knight in Shining Armor, did you?”
“I chose to do what I thought was best for the lady. I hardly think that’s cause for concern.”
“Who’s concerned?” Hank said, leaning forward. “I am curious as to what you and this little lady are up to though.”
“What—”?
“Why were you walking her back to her hotel room in the first place?”
“I wasn’t—” He sighed and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “It wasn’t like that, Hank. I ran into her. Well, she ran into me that is.” He almost smiled at the memory of her soft form smacking into him and her subsequent attempt to attack him with her petite fisted hands. “She said that she’d thought someone was following her, so I agreed to accompany her back to the hotel. That’s when I saw the man who was following her.”
Hank crossed his arms, eyes still narrowed and never leaving Andy’s face. “Are you in too deep in this?”
Andy rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I’ve fallen in l-love with this woman?” He tried to laugh, but the word “love” lodged in his mind as it did his mouth. He hardly knew her. And yet she was in his thoughts. Her soft eyes and mysterious smile never far from his mind’s eye. Would it be so bad…to be in love?
An image of Beatrice replaced Louise’s soft features, and he cringed.
“I’m fine. Just doing my job, Hank.”
“All right,” his brother’s tone softened. “I just want to make sure that you’re seeing this for what it could be.”
“What it—what do you mean?”
“Maybe she’s not as innocent as you think she is.”
Hank turned and walked toward his desk at the back, leaving Andy to muddle through his thoughts. Not innocent? Was it possible that Louise was playing them all? Could this have something to do with Jeffers and she was merely a distraction? He had a hard time believing that, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe his brother was right. Maybe he needed to take a step back, breathe, and come at this with fresh eyes.
Eyes that weren’t fixated on Louise Settelmeyer.
Chapter 6
After her shift at the restaurant, Louise went to her room and waited, feeling like a child who’d been banished to wait until she was told to come down. She hated the feeling of a lack of freedom. Hadn’t she come to the West in order to get away from things that constricted her, like people’s opinions, as well as the confines of society? Then again, this wasn’t just society after her, this was a man who’d been willing to kidnap her.
Louise went to the window and peered out. She was thankful she had a second-floor room, knowing it would be much more difficult for anyone to break in through the window, but also she enjoyed the view. She could clearly see the street below, its dusty patrons shuffling about their business. Then, beyond the wooden buildings, she caught a glimpse of the trees that lined the Guadalupe River. She knew that, if she could see it, its muddy brown waters would be coursing at a fierce pace.
She liked the town of Cypress Creek. Again she considered that she might have to leave. If her safety was in question, wouldn’t it be better to pick up and move yet again? But who was to say her troubles—and whoever was after—wouldn’t follow her?
Her gaze caught subconsciously on something outside the window, and she refocused her attention below. Immediately, she knew it was Andy. His tall, muscular form strode with purpose across the street, deftly avoiding wagons, horses, and pedestrians.
Her stomach twisted into knots, and she marveled at her body’s response to him. There was no reason to be nervous. He was merely meeting with her to help her get to the bottom of all of this. He was doing his job. That was all.
And yet her heart thudded louder in her chest and she had the urge to make sure her hair was in place, even though she’d already fixed it three times before sitting down to wait for him. She was better than this, more controlled than this, or at least that’s what she told herself.
When the knock sounded only a few moments later, she was surprised. He’d come up immediately to meet with her. Part of her wondered if he were as anxious to see her as she was him, but she forced her betraying thoughts aside and went to the door, making sure she looked calm and composed.
“Good afterno—” Her words were cut off by a man lunging toward her, a bandana covering the lower half of his face. His hand reached out and clamped down on her mouth to suffocate her screams, and he pushed her back until she was up against the wall.
His body pressed against hers, and she heard his raspy voice demand, “Where is it?”
Her eyes conveyed her terror, but she wondered if he could also see her confusion. Where was what? And who was this man?
Terror gripped her and caused her limbs to shake. Her knees threatened to give out though she couldn’t move due to the man’s weight against her.
“Tell me where it is and I’ll spare ya,” he said. His warm breath fanned out over her through the bandana, and she cringed, the smell like sour milk.
She mumbled that she didn’t know, trying to shake her head to free her mouth of his hand. If only she had opened her mouth, she could have bit down on the fleshy part of his palm. His grip increased, and she felt tears of pain flood her eyes.
“If I let your mouth go, will ya tell me and not scream?”
She willed her eyes to tell the truth as she stared back at him. His eyes narrowed, but he slowly began to remove his hand. When a big enough space freed her mouth, she let out a scream as loudly as she could. The next moment his hand and the full weight of his body thudded against her. “You’re going to regret that,” he said, his eyes flashing anger.
She pressed her eyes closed, praying to God to save her from this mad man, and in the next instant, the weight pressing against her was gone, as if God’s hand had removed it in that instant. Breath flooded her lungs again, and she took deep draws of it.
When she looked up, she saw Andy wrestling the man to the ground, a look as hard as iron and as sharp as steel on his face. “I suggest you stop moving unless you want me to break your arm.”
The man suddenly stopped his thrashing, giving Andy a moment to look up at her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but the look of utter worry on Andy’s face caused a flood of emotion to course through her. The tears began to fall despite the fact that she tried to stop them. “I-I’m fine.”
He looked as if he didn’t believe her, but then the man moved again, demanding Andy’s attention. “I said knock it off.” He pulled out his handcuffs and began to restrain the man, and Louise wondered if Andy usually saw this much terrifying action in a week’s time.
The next twenty minutes went by in a blur. With Simon arriving to help Andy take care of the difficult man and Margie insisting on sitting with Louise, it wasn’t until much later that she was finally able to see Andy alone.
“I’m sorry,” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Whatever for?” she said, clutching the shawl more tightly around her. She couldn’t seem to stop the shaking.
“I should have been here earlier. I…I stopped to talk with Mark downstairs and,” he shook his head as if he’d seen a specter, “I heard your scream and was afraid I was going to be too late.”
He looked shaken, much more so than she would have imagined he should be, and the reality coursed through her. “But it wasn’t too late. You rescued me. In fact,” she offered him an encouraging smile, “I’m beginning to think you’ll get tired of that soon, then what will I do?”
“Never.” The wo
rd slipped from his lips, and she could tell he was as surprised as she that he’d said it. “I mean,” he recovered, “it’s my duty to protect you. As marshal.”
She heard what he said, but something in the way he looked at her made it seem like it was much more than a duty. She reminded herself that she could be reading too much into what he was saying.
Either way, she knew she was thankful for Andy for so many things, the least of which was his duty.
* * *
Andy reached for the coffee pot on the stove and poured himself another cup. Louise sat on the back cot, the same one he’d found a few hours of sleep on in the wee morning hours, and he couldn’t stop looking back at her. She looked dwarfed by the coat he’d let her borrow as her shawl had gotten wet on the rainy dash they’d taken to the marshal’s office.
Her damp hair hung in ringlets around her face, and he caught himself wanting to push it back and away from her eyes. He wanted to—
He yanked himself away from thoughts that strayed passed the professional.
“Remember Beatrice,” he muttered to himself.
“What was that?” Louise asked.
Heat crept up his neck. “Nothing. So, what were you saying about a theory?”
He came toward her, the tin cup hot in his hands. She’d declined any coffee, and he wished he’d had tea to give her, but marshals ran on hot, black, and stout coffee and nothing else, or so it seemed.
“I’m not so sure it’s accurate now,” she admitted. Her gaze traveled to her hands that were fisted in the folds of his jacket.
“Why don’t you tell me anyway. Best to explore all possibilities.”
She nodded. “I was thinking that perhaps it was about…my availability.” She flushed.
“In what way?”
“I’m single and…available. I…I’ve just heard rumors…” She trailed off, and her quick glance told him that she was hoping he could fill in the details. He could.
“You think they were after you to press you into…something.”
She nodded.
“That’s a fair assumption. Unfortunately, that does happen.”
“But I don’t think that’s the case now. Not after what the man said.”
“What was he muttering about?”
“He kept asking me where it was. But I have no idea what it was he was talking about.”
Andy rubbed his jaw. “Someone thinks you’ve got something.” His mind raced to fill in the blanks. “You were known to be the mail order bride of Robert Jeffers. It has to be something to do with that.”
“But what?” she said, looking helpless. “I don’t know anything of his past or what he’s done. He never told me things like that in his letters.”
“Letters,” Andy muttered. Something Jeffers had said during their brief conversation came back to him. He’d planned robbing the coach as his last criminal act, but hadn’t he just robbed a bank coach a few weeks prior? Or, that’s what the papers had said.
“What is it?” Louise said, bringing him back to the present.
“What?”
“That look. I think you’ve uncovered something. Do share.”
He almost laughed at her eagerness. “I was just thinking…what if some of his fellow peers knew of the robbery he did before he got caught. What if…?” Was it too easy? “What if they think you know about the whereabouts of some of the loot?”
“What do you mean? What could I possibly know?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But it’s not uncommon for criminals to hide their loot. It’s possible he somehow told you, in your letters, about where it is.”
“But…why would he do that?”
Andy paused in his pacing. Why indeed? Then a thought occurred to him.
“Were you certain it was Robert writing to you?”
She blinked. “I—I had no reason to believe it was anyone else.”
Andy nodded slowly.
“What are you thinking?” she stood, coming toward him. His coat was still around her shoulders, and she looked even smaller and more delicate than he could have imagined. With her upturned face to his, he fought the urge to allow his gaze to flicker to her lips.
“It’s a hunch. I”—he paused, as she stepped even closer—“I need to go talk with Jeffers.”
“He’s still in town?” her fear flared quickly in her eyes, and he saw it before she could hide it.
“It’s all right,” he said, allowing himself to step closer. The scent of rose water greeted him, and he took in a shaky breath. “He can’t escape, and no one needs to know…about you and him.”
“Apparently many already do.” She bit her lower lip, the action drawing his attention down. His gaze held, mesmerized by the pinkness of her lips against her cream skin.
Then her hand rested against his chest, as she stepped closer. Did he feel it too? This connection between them? His eyes captured hers, and he saw understanding dawn there.
But he couldn’t give in. She might have come out West to marry, even if that possibility was now hindered by her husband-to-be, but he had vowed he would never marry. He’d seen what happened. He’d felt the pain of loss.
“Louise,” he said, her name a question, prayer, and breath all wrapped in one.
He leaned closer, and she did the same, her lips turning up to his. He almost claimed them when the front door flew open, sending a jolt through him and a force pushing them apart.
“There you are,” Hank said, his gaze traveling between Andy and Louise and narrowing. “Jeffers is asking for you.”
One final, longing glance back at Louise and Andy was out the front door without looking back. He couldn’t, or else he was afraid he’d throw caution to the wind and draw Louise up in his arms and kiss her until they both lost their senses.
Chapter 7
“Heard you’re having a little trouble,” Robert Jeffers said, his cocky grin infuriating Andy.
“Who says that?”
“People. People who talk.” He laughed and looked around at the empty cell he was in. “I get visitors now and again.”
Was that how he’d sent out men to find Louise? Hot blood coursed through Andy’s veins. “What did you do?” he said, lunging forward.
“Woah now,” he said, holding up his hands. “Hold yer horses, marshal man.” The glint in his eyes said that he was enjoying this much more than he should be.
“What did you have your men do? Why are they after Louise?”
“They aren’t after her. Well, not exactly.”
“Then what is going on?”
“I can see you’re a smart man. You must know that I won’t help you without a good reason.”
Andy ground his teeth together. “And what exactly do you think I can do for you?”
“Short of letting me go—”
“There’s no chance of that.”
“Right. I had a feeling you’d say that. Well, in any case, I think you could arrange it so that I’m sent further west. That don’t seem difficult now, do it?”
“What does that get you?”
“Never you mind,” he said with a wicked grin. “Just assure me I can be sent somewhere like Washington Territory and I’ll help you out.”
Andy wasn’t sure how much sway he’d have, but he could pull a few strings if it meant helping Louise. “Deal. Now tell me what you know.”
Robert’s eyes flashed. “That was easier than I’d thought. You must really like this woman of mine.”
“She’s not yours.”
“Oh yes,” Robert said. “You like her indeed.”
“Jeffers,” Andy said, coming close to the bars with a look that he hoped convey the end of his patience.
“All right. All right. Calm down. I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“Start with why Louise is in danger. She has nothing to do with you.”
“That is true and yet false, marshal man.”
He wanted to slam his fist into the man’s face if he called him �
�marshal man” one more time, but he bit his cheek instead.
“While this may jeopardize my chance with the sweet Louise Settelmeyer,” he grinned, knowing that those chances were long gone, “I’ll admit that I was not the one who wrote those charming letters to her.”
“What? Then who did?”
“My accountant.”
“Your…what are you saying?” Andy was losing patience.
“Not all of us can be smart and savage. A long time ago I recognized the need for someone with more sense about things like money than I had. This man, we’ll call him Charlie, handles all of the details for me. That means, after my last successful heist, I entrusted my money to him, as I always do, and he hid it for me.”
Andy’s mind was spinning. Who did things like this? “I fail to see what this has to do with Louise?”
“Charlie was the one who wrote the letters to Louise.”
“And…?” Andy prompted.
“I suppose I’ll have to spell it all out for you.” He sighed as if this were the biggest task he’d had to complete. “I asked Charlie not to tell me where he’d hidden the money until I had Louise and we were well on our way to a new life. I wanted to leave my life of crime behind,” he put a hand on his chest in a dramatic fashion, “and settle down. I also didn’t want to be caught with all that money until I was ready for it.”
“So, you’re saying that Charlie told Louise where the money was hidden?” How had Louise not told him about this?
“In a roundabout sort of way.”
“How?” he said, his tone bartering no argument.
“I don’t know. I’d have to see the letters to know. All I’d say is that I’d know the location based on what he wrote.”
“And now people know that this is the case? Is that why they are going after Louise?”
“I might have let it slip…during the night before our last robbery. I was rather intoxicated and may have mentioned something about all of this as well as Louise.”
So that was why she was a target. “But why try and kidnap her?” That still didn’t make sense to him.