God, oh, God! Did Fletcher even know his brother-in-law was a killer? Was he here to protect Zeb, or was he about to start sticking his nose into places in didn’t belong, and would he wind up dead, too? She honestly had no idea what sort of man he was. Could he be trusted? Or was he as smooth and seductive as silk, just trying to learn what she and Leo knew about Zeb?
Leo flicked the reins and said nothing more.
Stunned to speechlessness, Jo stared straight ahead. As desperately as she’d wanted to mend the broken feelings between her and her son, what he was asking of her was the very thing she could not give him. Trusting Marshal Collins to investigate Edwyn’s murder was too great a risk. What if he was with Zeb right now, telling him that a young rancher boy was dead set on finding the man who had killed his pa?
Jo needed to stop Zeb on her own, without anyone’s help, particularly the marshal’s. Her son was growing more and more determined every day, and the new marshal with his shiny revolver was giving Leo false hopes he’d do better without. On top of that, she’d actually thought about kissing the man. She’d lain awake half the night imagining exactly what it would feel like.
Very well, then. Her choice was clear. The best thing for everyone now was for her to stay as far away from Dodge City’s handsome new lawman as possible.
* * *
After finally retrieving her gunman’s disguise from the privy, Jo returned to the wagon and hid her bag under a worsted blanket in the back. She stood for a while under the hot sun, fighting to recover from the day’s activities because she was still weak and sore from the bullet wound.
Oh, where was Leo? She wanted to get home and crawl into bed.
When she heard people cheering at the other end of Front Street, she turned to look and saw a crowd gathering near the water tower.
Jo picked up her skirts and walked curiously along the boardwalk past the saloon and mercantile, her boot heels clicking a steady rhythm over the uneven planks until she reached the far end of town where the smell of burnt pastry wafted out of the bakery.
Jo stood on the boardwalk shading her eyes, squinting up at the raised platform, and when she saw the speaker, her heart began to race.
There, in a black suit and top hat, his dark mustache waxed into curls, his deep eyes gleaming with the charisma that had gotten him everything his black heart had ever wanted, stood Zeb Stone.
What was this? He was announcing his candidacy for mayor?
His eyes lowered and he spotted Jo in the crowd. For the briefest of seconds their gazes met, and she saw the sparkle of recognition, the hint of a smile. Her stomach clenched with white-hot rage.
The crowd erupted in applause and Jo looked around without the slightest idea what he had said to gain such approval. She hadn’t been able to hear anything above the thundering rush of blood through her veins.
Then she remembered Leo and tried to spot him. He was probably watching from up front. A sea of colorful feathered hats and Stetsons blocked her view, so she stepped onto the street and circled around the audience, going by the tall water tower, still searching. Then, one word from Zeb caught her attention. Family.
She stood off to the side, watching.
Zeb’s voice gentled. “I want to introduce my beautiful wife, Elizabeth, whose support has been, and will continue to be, my greatest bounty.”
“Isn’t she lovely?” the woman next to Jo said, her gloved hands muting the sound of her clapping.
A warning voice whispered in Jo’s head telling her not to look, but she couldn’t help herself. A suffocating sensation squeezed around her chest.
Elizabeth Stone was lovely, without question, but that was not what nearly knocked Jo over onto her backside. The young woman with the dark features possessed an uncanny resemblance to her brother.
Elizabeth smiled down at the citizens of Dodge, making shy eye contact with them. It was not surprising that Zeb had chosen her for his wife. She was any politically ambitious man’s dream.
Zeb bowed before her and kissed her white-gloved hand, a well-thought-out spectacle that made the crowd cheer and whistle. Elizabeth blushed sweetly.
“And I must also introduce,” Zeb went on, “a man I am confident will bring pride and dignity and restraint to our growing city. My brother-in-law, Marshal Fletcher Collins.”
The audience held back their applause, murmuring with gossip about the shooting and the way their marshal had collapsed decorously before the gunman. A flicker of anger passed across Zeb’s face. Jo rose up on her toes to see Fletcher.
He climbed the platform steps, appearing relaxed and confident despite the crowd’s quiet chatter. Jo felt the tension for him, as if it were she who was up there facing the difficult crowd. He didn’t speak, only touched the brim of his hat. He and Elizabeth said something to each other with reassuring smiles.
“And I wish to take this opportunity to clear up some misconceptions about our new marshal,” Zeb said. A hush fell over the crowd. “Whatever was reported in the newspaper about Tuesday night’s shooting was grossly inaccurate. I witnessed the event, and allow me to assure you, the marshal did not flinch or cower. He walked into my store with his weapon drawn, ready to fire, and that gunman had agreed to surrender. He was, in fact, shaking in his boots!”
A hum of approving laughter filtered through the crowd. “Marshal Collins was wounded in the line of duty because that outlaw was so terrified, he shot his pistol off by mistake!”
People began whispering to each other. Some laughed, and Fletcher shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable being the focus of so much attention.
Zeb added, “But what this city needs to know, is that I did not bring this man here because he is my brother-in-law. I brought him here because we need someone to clean up our town’s distasteful element. I have brought to you, good people of Dodge—The Bruiser!”
The roar of merriment nearly shook down the water tower. Jo was bumped on either side by men unable to control their excitement. Hats were being tossed into the air.
She looked up at the platform where Zeb was shaking Fletcher’s hand. Smiling, they patted each other on the back like true blood brothers, hearing the cheer below them and feeling their power grow.
Searching for Leo, Jo circled the crowd and spotted him up front, clapping his hands over his head, leaping up and down.
“Leo!” she called, sidling along the platform. She reached him and grabbed his hand with her weak arm. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pulled him through the crowd, out into the open.
“Ma! What are you doing? Didn’t you hear? Marshal Collins is The Bruiser!”
“Let’s go, Leo.” She started off toward their wagon down the street, but Leo didn’t follow.
“Don’t you want to hear the rest of the speech?”
She turned back, her temper rising and overflowing. She’d never been so furious with Leo. He’d never given her reason to be. “Leo, you have disobeyed me enough. Come with me now.”
“But Ma!”
Just then, Zeb raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “As president of the city council, I can report that the election for mayor will be held one week from today. The election for county sheriff will be held as usual in November, and I believe…” He paused, then his voice took on a humorous tone. “I believe, judging by the enthusiasm I hear today, that we may have a suitable candidate in our very presence!” He gestured toward Fletcher, and Jo shook her head in disbelief.
“I must thank you all for your support, and I’ll see you on election day!” The crowd applauded and cheered.
“All right, Leo, it’s over. Come with me now.”
“But Ma! If Mr. Stone’s going to be mayor and Marshal Collins is going to be county sheriff, maybe they can help us find the men who killed Pa!”
Before Jo could stop him, Leo turned and ran into the crowd toward Zeb.
Chapter Ten
Breathing hard, Jo followed Leo into the crowd. She pushed her way to the center of the shifting mass, but
others were eager to brush elbows with the future mayor. Ambitious businessmen butted ahead of her, bumped her in the shoulder, which caused her no shortage of pain, knocked her off balance and into other equally aggressive money-grubbers.
“Leo!” she called out, but the noisy mob smothered her voice.
Forcing her way forward, she found herself stuck somewhere in the middle of the hubbub, not sure which way to go. She grunted and pushed at someone, then felt a hand squeeze her arm and pull her back.
“Are you looking for Leo?” the familiar voice asked as they emerged from the mob. Jo whipped around to face Marshal Collins.
“Yes. Have you seen him?”
Fletcher lifted his chin. “Over there.”
Jo looked up at the platform. Zeb was down on one knee, the tail of his long black coat laid out behind him, while he spoke to Leo, who stood in the front row.
A flash memory of the night in the barn filled Jo with panic. She saw the unmistakable eyes that peered out from holes in a black hood while she’d watched everything from a shadowy stall, knowing she would die if she showed herself.
Jo knew she must show herself now and retrieve Leo if she was to make a difference this time. She squared her shoulders and stepped forward, but Fletcher stopped her.
“Wait, I’ll take you. There are a lot of men wanting to be first.” He donned his hat and guided her toward the platform steps, his hand on the small of her back.
Oddly enough, and despite the camaraderie she’d just seen between him and Zeb, she was glad he was here to escort her to the front. His touch and his presence made her feel less alone, less powerless as she made her way to face Zeb.
She picked up her skirts and climbed the steps, until she stood behind him, looking down at his clean black coat stretched tight across his back, hearing his laughter as he spoke to her son.
“Zeb, there’s someone here to see you,” Fletcher said. Jo put on her most captivating smile.
Zeb tousled Leo’s hair and idly rose to his feet. He turned to face Jo. “Why, Mrs. O’Malley, it is a sincere pleasure, indeed, to see you again. It has been too long.”
Jo answered in a light tone that masked what she truly felt—nauseous from being so near to him. She held out her hand and he shook it. “Congratulations on your campaign for mayor.”
He focused his steely gaze upon her. “I understand you were wounded the other night. How are you faring?”
His question caught her off guard, and she had to remind herself of the role she must play. “I’m much better, thank you.”
Zeb rested his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder. “I have every confidence that this man’s presence will discourage such crimes in the future. It’s why I brought him here in the first place.”
Fletcher responded in good humor. “I thought it was because my sister missed me.”
Elizabeth approached from behind. “Oh, but it was, dear brother. You have no idea how I hounded my husband about it. He had no choice but to finally give in.”
Fletcher walked to the edge of the platform. “Leo, come and meet my sister.” The boy ran around to the stairs while Fletcher began the introductions. “Mrs. O’Malley, this is my sister, Elizabeth Stone.”
Too much was happening at once. Jo had not wanted any of this. She had only wanted to get her bag out of the privy floor and return home again. How had she ended up here, shaking hands with the woman she had tried to make a widow? “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Stone.”
“No, it’s my pleasure, Mrs. O’Malley. My brother spoke to me about you, and I can assure you he plans to do everything in his power to apprehend the man who shot you. I was beside myself thinking of it. You, my brother and my husband, all nearly killed in one shootout.”
Jo found it increasingly difficult to look into this woman’s kind eyes. She seemed so different from Zeb. How had she ended up as his wife? She could not possibly know the truth.
Fletcher affectionately rested his hand on Leo’s shoulder and introduced him to Elizabeth. They shook hands, then Elizabeth turned to Jo.
“Will you come for tea sometime? I’m starting an embroidery club on Tuesday evenings if you would like to join us. Tonight we’re meeting at the Presbyterian church on Central Avenue at seven o’clock.”
Scrambling for a polite reply, Jo smiled. “I shouldn’t commit myself. Things are busy on the ranch this time of year and so much has fallen upon my shoulders….” An awkward silence ensued until Leo offered a needless explanation. “My pa died last winter.”
Elizabeth nodded serenely. “I’m very sorry about that. Unfortunately, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” She directed her gaze at Jo, who felt shaken. “Will you at least stop by for tea when you are in town next?”
After a long pause, Jo gave in. “Of course.” She felt Zeb’s inquisitive stare.
Elizabeth kissed her brother on the cheek. “We’ll see you at supper, Fletcher? We missed you last night.” Smiling, she headed for the stairs. “I must go and speak to Mrs. Jennings about this evening. Excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you both.” She descended from the platform and met an older woman at the bottom. Jo watched them converse, envious of such a simple existence where the greatest concern was in acquiring the proper color thread.
She glanced back at Leo. “We must be getting home. There’s work to do.” She turned to go, hoping the departure would not be difficult.
“But wait,” Leo called after her. She halted, closing her eyes with sinking hopes. “I need to talk to Mr. Stone.”
Jo wheeled around, and felt the impatient crowd listening and staring, waiting for her response. “I’m sure he’s very busy, Leo. Perhaps another time.”
She stood tall and silent, willing Leo with her eyes to follow, but knowing she would have to remain and control the damage to come.
“What is it, son?” Zeb asked, resting his hand on Leo’s shoulder. The intimate gesture made Jo’s skin prickle.
Leo looked up at him hopefully. “The men who killed my father were never caught. Now that you’re going to be mayor, I thought you might be able to do something about it.”
Revealing nothing, he replied, “Such as?”
“You could spread word around. Marshal Collins said he’d help, and if he becomes sheriff, then—” Zeb’s eyes darted suspiciously at his brother-in-law. Jo saw the subtle annoyance and knew she had to interrupt. “Leo, you have to let it go. Those men left no trail.”
Zeb’s left eyebrow rose a fraction while he peered down at her curiously. “How do you know there were more than one?”
Jo tried not to let her anxiety show. “I don’t. I was only guessing.”
Zeb continued to stare at her, saying nothing, and Jo made the mistake of trying to fill the unbearable silence with an explanation. “There must have been more than one because of the tracks I saw.”
“But as I recall, you told the marshal you saw no tracks. You said they’d been covered by snowfall.” He frowned down at her and she knew, somehow, that he saw the truth in her eyes. “Perhaps you saw more than you lead people to believe.”
Jo tried to backtrack. “They were very clever to have gotten away without being seen.”
“How clever do you have to be to hang someone?” Leo asked.
The retort shocked everyone into silence.
Fletcher knelt down. “If it means that much to you, Leo, why don’t we go on over to the jailhouse now. If it’s okay with your ma, we could look up the report. I’ll tell you what was done about your father’s death.”
Zeb’s jaw clenched visibly, but he said nothing.
Jo couldn’t believe what she was hearing or seeing. There were no reassuring looks between Fletcher and Zeb, no winks or nudges. Only Zeb’s uneasiness and the marshal’s sincere interest in seeing the report.
Whatever suspicions Jo had held about Fletcher Collins dissolved right there. She was certain that, for all he knew, her husband had been murdered by horse thieves.
Not that any of that mattered. Zeb k
new the truth now. That was obvious. And she feared she was in grave danger.
Fletcher rose to his feet. “Is that all right with you, Mrs. O’Malley?”
Jo knew the answer had to be yes, but she felt suddenly ill-equipped to see what was written about Edwyn’s death. She barely remembered the things she had said to the old marshal about it. She had been in such a state of shock, shaking and winded after the midnight ride through the snow all alone. So much of that night was a blur to her now.
“Mrs. O’Malley? Would it be all right?” Fletcher’s voice startled her, and she realized suddenly that she had been staring blankly at him. His eyes were intense with concern for her, and she found she wanted to leave with him now. It didn’t matter where they went, she just wanted him to take her away from the crowd.
She cleared her throat, feeling Zeb studying her. “That would be fine. I’ll come along, of course.”
“Zeb, I’ll see you later,” Fletcher said.
They descended the steps. Jo couldn’t resist the temptation to take one last look back at Zeb. He stood watching, his eyes shaded by the dark brim of his hat. He glared with brows drawn together, eyes so dark it sent chills skittering across her skin.
She was glad she and Leo were with the marshal.
* * *
As Fletcher followed Leo and Mrs. O’Malley around the back of the two-story city clerk’s office, he noticed that she checked over her shoulder every few seconds. She seemed nervous. He wondered if it was because her husband’s killers had never been caught. Maybe by checking into it, he would find something that would change that, and help her move on with her life.
He was not completely comfortable with how much he wanted her to move on—to be free from the tragedy that seemed to haunt her so intensely—because it wasn’t out of the goodness of his own heart.
What he really wanted was for her to look at him and see more than just his badge. He wanted her to see him as a man—a man who desired her—and he wanted her to remember what her own desire could feel like, if she surrendered to it.
They climbed the back stairs on the outside of the building to the second floor that served as city offices and police court. Fletcher removed his hat and fought to struggle free of the sticky web of attraction he was caught up in. He had to focus on his job instead of wishing his potential witness was wanting him to take her into his arms and start unbuttoning her blouse.
Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) Page 8