The Lawman of Silver Creek

by Lori Connelly

  The night of the harvest celebration was different. They didn’t exchange one cross word much to his surprise. He was in high spirits as bright lights, clusters of people and fiddle notes spilled out of Hiram Baker’s barn. He had taken Claire in his arms for an impromptu dance under the pines, and tension of another kind seized him.

  Heat radiated between them as Matt twirled her around. With each step, his hunger grew. Hands clasped, fingers entwined, they slipped out of sight. Under an ancient oak tree, he’d held her close and cloaked in the shadows of the night, they’d shared a magical kiss.

  When she gently pulled away, he’d felt confused rather than alarmed. Still lost in passion’s haze it took several seconds before he understood her words. In a composed tone that annoyed him to no end, Claire had broken off their engagement. Matt tried to talk to her but she simply walked away, silently, back to join her family.

  A loud rap pushed the memory aside. He turned his head, staring at door. People never paused to knock. They burst in need of urgent help, often stomped in annoyed or, on occasion, strolled in to seek his opinion or company.

  No one usually knocked.

  Matt dropped his feet to the floor, sat up and palmed his gun in a fluid motion. “Come in.”

  Hinges creaked. Sunlight streamed inside as the door swung open. The woman who dominated his thoughts stepped inside. She crossed to his desk, her stride made easy by the divided skirt Matt hadn’t noticed she’d been wearing earlier. He scowled.

  Claire had been the first woman in their community to wear such a garment. His heart beat faster, blood rushed through his veins. The material clung to her backside in a way that always made him want to slide his hands over it. She was well aware of how it affected him.

  Uncertain how to respond to her presence, his words came out harshly. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought your lunch.” Claire smiled and lifted up the box she held.

  “Why?” His expression wary, Matt stood.

  “I didn’t want you to be … ” She set the meal down on the desk in front of him her gaze locked on his. “Hungry.”

  “Ginny could’ve sent her boy.”

  Claire shrugged. “I offered.”

  “You shouldn’t be here. I saw Evie leaving with Ben.” His tone was abrupt, almost angry, “Why didn’t you head home with them?”

  “Had something I needed to take care of.”

  Matt belatedly sheathed his weapon. “You need my help?”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Concern warred with suspicion. On Fridays, local cowhands often rode into town looking for some fun. Sometimes one or two got out of hand. His eyes narrowed, stance coiled, ready for action.

  “Is someone bothering you?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Who?” Tone hard, he demanded a response.

  Raised up on the tips of her toes, she leaned over the desk and breathed her answer on his skin. “You.”

  He blinked. “What did you say?”

  “You.”

  For a moment, he stared at her. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing.” Claire lifted a hand and touched his cheek.

  His expression carved of granite, Matt stepped back out of reach. “Stop this.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not interested in playing games with you.”

  “But games are fun.”

  “Claire.” He drew out her name in a familiar growl.

  His annoyance only heightened her determination. Her smile firmly in place, concealing doubt, she stepped around his desk to stand right in front of him. Her hands sought his waist, and then slid down over his gun belt to rest low on his hips.

  “No.” His hands closed over hers, holding them fast. “Thank you for bringing my lunch, but unless you’re willing to talk, seriously talk, I want you to leave.”

  “Why?” Claire pressed against him, aching with desire. “Do you have a prisoner?”

  “No.” Matt removed her hands, retreating from her.

  “Then why do I need to leave?”

  “You couldn’t wait to leave yesterday.”

  Claire pursued him. “Mad at me?”

  “Yes, what did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think-”

  “About how I felt?” His sharp tone wounded Claire.

  Her voice soft, sincere, she assured him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You rejected me, again.”

  “Matt please, I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Since when?”

  His cold, hard tone stole her breath and shook her poise. Her gaze dropped. She studied the floor for a second, and then reached out with one hand to hold his in a loose grip. Claire drew in a deep breath and looked up into his eyes.

  “Yesterday.”

  For a moment, there was dead silence. His chest heaved, his gaze bore into hers. She couldn’t read his expression.

  “Why?”

  “I realized how much I need you. Miss you. Love you.”

  “Don’t toy with me.” He bit out through clenched teeth.

  “I’m not.”

  Matt pulled his hand free. “I believe you want me, you’ve made that clear.”

  “Yes, I do.” Her whisper was fierce, heated with desire.

  Her need to touch him compelled Claire forward. She feared to speak. Words had torn them apart and rendered pain. He stepped around the side of the desk. She reached out, wanting to reclaim the success of yesterday’s physical connection. Matt held up a hand and she stilled.

  “Love is another matter.”

  “You don’t believe me?” Claire couldn’t conceal her shock.

  “Should I?”

  “I’ve never lied to you, I never would.”

  “Explain to me why, if you love me, you won’t marry me?”

  Tears stung her eyes. How could he not understand that she didn’t want to give up her passion? Her heart tore. On the other hand, now that her anger wasn’t fresh, part of her wanted to appease his fears, whatever the sacrifice. Was it crazy to risk losing him over ambition?

  “I will if you mean the marriage you first proposed without conditions.”

  “Claire-”

  “I don’t want to fight.” Her voice soft and barely audible, she interrupted him. “I just want you, to love you.”

  His expression softened. Matt reached out, touching her cheek. “I don’t want to fight either but I need to keep you safe. Life without you would be unbearable.”

  “You’re already living without me.”

  “You are trying my temper.” Although strong words, they were uttered without heat.

  Hope sparked within her. “You’ve withstood greater aggravation.”

  “Not from a beautiful, exasperating woman,” he muttered.

  “You still think so?”

  “That you’re exasperating? Yes. And infuriating, annoying, aggravating, maddening-”

  “Beautiful. Do you think I’m beautiful?”

  “Now isn’t the time to fish for complements.”

  “So you don’t?” She shaded her tone with disappointment.

  “That’s not important.”

  “Do you or don’t you?”

  “Claire.” Her name came out with a frustrated sigh.

  “Matt.”

  He plucked a strand of thick hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. His voice gruff, Matt told her. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Claire moved closer. “I wish we could work this out.”

  Before he could respond, she leaned against him. Her hands once again sought his hips, holding him and hoping he wouldn’t pull away. Claire stared up at him, trying to express all she felt in her heart through her eyes. Dark and intense, his gaze held hers captive through a long moment of tense silence.

  “So do I.” His hands curved about her waist.

  “Then … ” Her hands
roamed up his back, bold, embracing him. “What’s … ” She kissed the base of his throat. “Stopping us?”

  Matt sucked in a breath. “Claire.”

  “You’re awfully fond of saying my name,” she murmured against his skin. Her teeth grazed him, lightly, not quite a bite. She bunched fistfuls of his shirt, pulling it free of denim. Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric to stroke warm flesh. “I love touching your skin.”

  “Claire.”

  “Matt.”

  “Don’t say things like that here.”

  “Why not?” She looked up at him, bemused, one eyebrow raised.

  “Because words like that-”

  “Words like what?”

  “Make me want to-”

  “Want to … ” Their thighs brushed. Claire placed one hand on his chest, her lips slightly parted in hope of a kiss. “What?”

  For a second he didn’t respond. Worry that she’d been too playful shimmied down her spine. With a groan, Matt locked his arms around her. She felt his cheek on her hair.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I’ve a few ideas.”

  “I bet you do.” His whisper rough, one hand moved up until his fingers tangled in the hair at the base of her neck.

  Her breath caught. Matt twisted, pressing her against the solid oak desk. She wound her arms around his neck, needing him beyond reason.

  “Please.”

  With a soft growl, his lips came down on hers hard and fierce. Her fingernails sank into his skin. His tongue thrust into her open mouth, dueling with her own. Matt broke off the kiss to move his mouth across her cheek. He placed hot, wet, kisses down her hairline, along her jaw, and before finally returning to claim her lips.

  Her thoughts scattered. Need built into a raw ache that was almost unbearable.

  Without warning, Matt went still. He lifted his head, staring at her silently for a moment before he tugged free of her clinging arms. He stepped back, breathing hard. One hand on the back of his neck, he visibly struggled for control.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t say that.” She took a step toward him.

  “Stop.” Matt held out a hand, palm facing her. “Don’t come closer.” His gaze was dark, brooding. “I can’t think straight when you’re near right now.” The words sounded harsh, ragged, as if pulled from the depths of him.

  “Isn’t that a good thing considering what we were doing?”

  “No it’s not.” Matt turned, and then started pacing the space like a caged beast. “I almost laid you on my desk and … ”

  Warmth coursed through her. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Someone could’ve come in looking for their sheriff.”

  The thought that anyone could walk in on them gave her pause, cooling her passion by the smallest measure. However, need still throbbed within Claire, insistent. She wasn’t ready to give up entirely.

  “We could go to your place for lunch.”

  “I’m on duty.”

  “But-”

  “People count on me to do my job.”

  “I know.” His sharp sense of honor defined his character, commanding her respect. “Sorry. I just wish … ”

  Matt stopped pacing near the door. “I do too.”

  Her gaze locked on his, Claire walked over until she stood inches from him. She placed both hands gently on his chest, then caressed across the surface of his pockets until she felt what she sought. His keys dangled from her fingers seconds later.

  “Could we lock the door, just for a few minutes?”

  “No. That’ll only cause more frustration.”

  “But-”

  “Claire.”

  “I love the way you say my name.”

  “It’s best you leave now.”

  “Perhaps.” Her hands slipped around to roam over his stiff back, muscled hard beneath her touch. “But I don’t want to.”

  “You need to.” His breath heated her skin.

  Her arms tightened. Unable to resist, Claire pressed open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone. He shuddered, drawing in a shaky breath. Reason fleeing, she released her hold on him and started to work his shirt buttons free.

  “Stop.” Matt grabbed her hands. “Anyone could see us.”

  Fire swept up her neck and burned across her cheeks after a quick glance confirmed they stood near a good-sized, curtain less window. She inclined her head, resting her forehead on his chest. Embarrassment bled through desire.

  “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Neither of us is thinking clear, but don’t be sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “I. Am. Not. I just don’t want whoever may pass by to see you undressing me.”

  “I know.” Her hands rubbed up and down his ribs, a soft caress. Claire drew in a long, deep breath then looked up at him. “I should go.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Yes we do, but not here, not now.”

  “Okay, but I don’t want to waste another day.” Knuckles lightly stroked her cheek, his voice caressed. “Would you meet me at the cabin later?”

  Claire nodded. She slipped out of his embrace, stepped to the door, and opened it. “I’ll be there at sunset.”

  Broad streaks of orange and red painted the clouds. Claire clutched her cloak tightly against her chest, and shivered, though the night was warm.

  From the shelter of the trees, she had a clear view of the sheriff. Claire sucked in a breath as Matt stripped off his shirt. He then bent over, his back to her, denims low on his hips, and washed with rainwater from an old barrel next to the porch. She indulged in the simple pleasure of watching him for a moment. Before nerves could overtake her, she walked over to the cabin. When she was close enough to see the droplets of moisture that dotted his muscled torso, she called out.

  “Hello.”

  “Claire.” His tone warm but wary, Matt plucked a towel off the porch railing. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Freshening up for me?” She tried to sound playful, but the strained note in her voice caused the effort to fall flat.

  “Broke up a bar fight, got splashed with some rotgut.” He tossed the towel back and picked up the red flannel shirt that hung beside it.

  “Oh.”

  Her mind blanked. Nerves stretched taut. She didn’t know where to start. All the words she’d rehearsed on the way over suddenly escaped her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uncertain.

  “Why don’t we go inside?” Matt shrugged into his shirt. “I built a fire.”

  Claire swallowed hard. “Sounds good.”

  Inside, an awkward silence descended upon them. The room seemed smaller than it had last night. She took a couple of steps beyond the door then stopped. Her hands clasped together tightly.

  Maybe I should leave.

  “Can I take your cloak?”

  Her gaze flew to his face. Emotion flooded her. It was time to stop being ridiculous. She loved him. They had to work things out, which meant she needed to stay, pretend she wasn’t shaking in her boots and try.

  “Please.”

  Before she could shrug off her outer garment and hand it to him, Matt stepped close, within inches. His fingers brushed her throat. Awareness raced over her nerves as he leaned in close, loosening buttons. He paused. The look in his eyes mesmerized her. She swayed, certain that he would kiss her. Instead, he lifted the cloak off, turned aside and hung it on a peg.

  “Would you like to sit by the fire?”

  “Sure.”

  With quick steps to hide her disappointment, she crossed to the hearth. She perched on the edge of one chair, hands in her lap. As he sat down in the chair across from her, Claire braced for the fight she was certain would come next. Matt leaned forward, covering her cold hands with one of his.

  “I love you.”

  The breath Claire didn’t know she’d held rushed out. Tears stung her eyes but didn’t fall. Her chin tilted up, proudly.

  “I lo
ve you too.”

  “I’ve been miserable without you.”

  Claire turned her hands palms up, squeezed his. “Me too.”

  Matt’s gaze met hers, dark, unreadable while he paused. She sensed turmoil beneath his composed exterior. For long seconds the crackle of the fire was the only sound in the room. Anxious her grip tightened.

  “I want to work this out.”

  “So do I,” her relief prompted a swift reply. Her tone, resolute, was a promise.

  “I need you to be-”

  “Don’t.” Claire drew in a breath, calming herself. “Please don’t say that again.”

  “Hear me out.”

  “Could we pretend all this mess didn’t happen? The Nash brothers never came to town. We never fought.”

  Matt shook his head, his gaze steady.

  “But-”

  “You could’ve died. I can’t forget that.”

  Yes, you can. The impulse to argue parted her lips but she killed it, gave him the honesty he deserved. “Neither can I.”

  “The sight of his Bowie knife against you terrified me.”

  For a second the rancid smell of rotting teeth wafted over her as it had when Billy Nash promised he’d put his blade in her belly if she screamed. Her blood ran cold. A person can suffer for days before dying of a gut wound. She, who’d always taken great pride in taking care of herself, froze. She hadn’t even tried to yell when she spotted Matt with her cousin Nate. If they hadn’t noticed her, she would’ve died.

  “You rode him down and knocked us off his horse.”

  “Nash almost got away with you.”

  Near the edge of the dense forest east of Fir Mountain, he’d tackled Billy. They’d hit the ground in a bone-jarring heap then rolled some distance. The fall, which left her and Matt with vivid bruises, had broken the outlaw’s back. Claire felt no sympathy for the man.

  “But he didn’t.”

  “It was damn close.” A muscle jerked along his jaw. “I can’t let that happen again. I need to keep you safe.”

  The haunted look in his eyes kept her from snapping at the trigger those words had become. “I understand.”

  “But?”

  “But expecting me to only go out in public if you’re there to protect me makes me feel like I can’t breathe.”

  “I didn’t say that … Well maybe once, just afterwards, but I know that wouldn’t work.”