Deadly (13 page)

Her stomach was queasy with nausea, and she felt like the devil himself was dancing in her head. When she managed to get back to the bedroll, Zach was gone. She had no idea where he’d crawled off to, but she didn’t have the strength or the energy to look for him.

She laid down, thinking maybe he was behind a bush somewhere. Soon, he stumbled back to the blanket and sank down.

An awkward silence filled the air. For a moment, neither one of them said anything as everything they’d said to one another last night hung in the air like an invisible wall between them.

Finally, Zach said, “Remind me to never drink a whole bottle of whiskey again.”

“I may kill you myself for tempting me to play such a silly game,” she responded.

“Hell, you won.”

“All I won was a headache, a stomachache, and dinner with a cowboy.” Not to mention the fact he’d passed out in the middle of a kiss. Were her kisses so boring men just closed their eyes and began to snore?

Dang it, she was not happy this morning. With all the talk of kissing and weddings and gifts and then for him to start snoring.

He grimaced. “At least, your arm isn’t throbbing.”

“No, just my head. I should get out my frying pan and make sure your head is pounding as badly as mine.”

“Believe me, it is,” he said.

“How’s your arm this morning?” she asked, realizing in her own misery she’d forgotten about shooting him yesterday.

“It’s sore. So sore I don’t know if I could control my horse. How would you feel if we just laid low today and rested?” he asked.

That would mean Simon would have a further jump on her. It would take her longer to find him. But lying here, resting with Zach, sounded like a great idea. How long had it been since she’d taken a day to recover? And this morning's hangover was the sickest she’d been in years. And just maybe she’d get the chance to tell him his kissing wasn’t good. It was damn boring.

“I like that idea,” she whispered, not wanting any noise louder than her voice right now. “As long as it involves no more alcohol.”

“We’re completely out,” he promised. “I’ll even get the coffee cups if you’ll pour. I can’t lift anything with my right arm.”

He stood and went around to the horse and pulled out the cups. He took some hardtack out of his saddlebags and put it in a pan to heat over the fire.

“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” Zach asked.

Meg closed her eyes. He was trying to get out of asking her what she wanted for a wedding present. In the morning light, he’d decided she wasn’t the woman for him, and he was looking for a way out.

“No,” she whispered. “Nothing, except drinking and drinking and drinking. And then your snoring. Right in the middle of kissing me.”

Zach held the coffee cups in his hands and stared at her, his eyes widened. “No, I didn’t.”

“You most certainly did, cowboy. Your lips were on mine, and then you went slack and started to snore,” she said, pouring the coffee into their cups. “I know I’ve never kissed a man before, but I didn’t think my kisses would put you to sleep.” The nerve of the man to fall asleep while she was kissing him. If they’d been married a hundred years, maybe, but even then he’d be doing time in the chicken shack.

“No, honey, it wasn’t you. It was me. The alcohol and the loss of blood. I passed out cold. I don’t even remember what we were talking about. The last I remember, you were telling me how you were fired by Ho Chin,” he said. “It wasn’t your kissing. It was me.”

She stared at him. He didn’t remember asking her what kind of wedding gift she wanted? Well, good. “You took bigger sips than me,” she admitted.

“Your hangover still seems worse.”

“That’s because it’s my first and hopefully my last.” She laid back down on her bedroll and watched him heat up their hardtack. She didn’t even know if she’d be able to keep the biscuit down. Her stomach was in an all-out rebellion at the moment at what she’d consumed last night.

He took the hardtack out of the fire and handed her the biscuit. “Breakfast is served.”

She sat up, and her world spun again. Closing her eyes, she brought the coffee up to her lips then slowly opened them. “Do you have any idea where Simon went?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “There’s a place I know of, and he might go there.”

“Then we should leave now and go after him.”

“And do what?” His look was filled with disdain. “Are you going to go racing after him? I don’t think so. Neither one of us feels like chasing him.”

“No, but it has to be done.” Sometime today, she had to get up on her horse and ride after Simon. Soon, just as soon as her head could manage to stand up straight and her stomach wasn’t bucking like a wild horse.

“It can wait a couple of days. I think we should rest and get my arm checked out by a doctor. Then we’ll be refreshed and ready to take him on once again.”

“We? Who says we’re going to do this together?” she said. Did he think they were going to stick together? Oh, no. He sure as hell wasn’t getting this bounty. It was hers and hers alone.

“I did,” he replied.

“You’ll steal the bounty for yourself, just like you did last time,” she responded. She could feel her stomach muscles tightening at the idea of losing the bounty again. No, Zach couldn’t win this time.

“No, I won’t,” he promised. “Once we prove his guilt, then the bounty will be yours. If we prove he’s not guilty…it won’t matter. We’ll work together.”

“You know he’s guilty.”

“No, I don’t. But I intend to find out, just like I do with all my clients,” Zach said.

Meg raised her brows and stared at the handsome sheriff. Did he believe Simon was above suspicion? She wanted to laugh, but knew instinctively he wouldn’t think it was funny.

“The boy is about as innocent as the hurdy-gurdy gals down at the bar. But you keep on thinking that, and soon I’ll have him tied up and turned in, and I’ll be walking away with the bounty.”

T
he next day they rode into Dyersville. Tension radiated from Meg like the heat of a potbelly stove. Zach sensed that if he weren't careful, she’d be riding off without him the moment she could sneak away. Still, he had no choice but to leave her, while he did some business in town. Some business Meg didn’t need to know about.

“Let’s get a room here tonight, and then in the morning, I’ll take you to where Simon may be hiding,” Zach said, thinking it wasn’t a complete lie, but not really believing Simon was still there. After being shot, he’d watched Simon ride off with Frank.

Somehow he feared the man had not listened to his advice and was now long gone and that made Zach question Simon’s claims of innocence. They needed to locate Mrs. Lowell. Zach wanted to hear her side of Simon’s tale and learn from her how the situation had played out.

“As long as we get two rooms,” Meg replied, sliding down from her horse.

“Of course,” Zach said. “Is it okay if I help you get your things into the room?”

She stared at him. “Nope. I can manage on my own. I know how I like things done.”

“Remind me to never let you drink alcohol again.”

“Remind me to never let you kiss me again, since you’ll fall asleep.”

“That was only one time,” he said, frustration spiraling like a tornado through his mid-section, tightening his stomach into a knot. Of all the times for him to pass out. “And I’d been drinking with you.”

“Sad when a woman can out drink a man.”

The woman knew just how to put a burr under a man’s saddle and stick him on a regular basis. “I’d been shot. I lost blood. I could have died.”

“That’s what happens when you ride in front of a bullet.”

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and decided to keep his mouth shut. It would be less painful.

She raised her brows, her eyes flashing that impatient, irritated message only Meg could effectively convey. She’d already slid her saddle off and was standing there, waiting for him. “Get a move on, cowboy, or be left behind.”

Hurriedly, he untied the cinch and pulled the saddle off his horse. “Remind me again, why I want to keep you along?”

“Because I’m such good company,” she retorted, walking ahead of him, her pants swaying with the swing of her hips as she entered the hotel.

It took about ten minutes to check in. Their rooms were across the hall from one another, close enough he could keep his eye on her. Yet they were separated, and after the last two nights on the trail, it would feel good to get cleaned up and sleep in a bed again. It would be good to put some distance between him and Meg just for a little while.

They walked up the stairs and down the hall to their respective rooms. He glanced at her as she put her key in the lock and turned the knob. She opened the door and set her saddle inside. Then she turned to shut the door, and their eyes met across the hall.

“Why don’t you rest and get cleaned up, and then we’ll go to dinner at seven,” he said, not really wanting her to leave his sight, but knowing he had things to do.

Her eyes appraised him like a schoolmarm grading her students’ exams. “Am I dirty?”

He shook his head. Since he’d fallen asleep while kissing her, she’d not given him any slack. She’d been touchy and irritable. He’d hoped it was because of a hangover, but maybe not. “No, I love my women to have that dusty glow about them with a smudge of mud on their pants and smelling of campfire smoke.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, cowboy.” A faint smile turned up her lips, and then she flashed him a haughty glance. “Plus, you look a little weather worn yourself.”

“That’s why I plan on taking a bath.”

“Ohhhh… You’re going to the bathhouse?”

He smiled and shook his head at her. “Yes, I am. Do you want to go? Though, I’m not certain the sheriff in this town would be as forgiving, if I’m found naked in the middle of Main Street.”

“It’s a tempting thought,” she said with a smile. “But you’ll be on the lookout for it next time. I think that trick’s retired.”

“Good, I can enjoy my bath in peace. But first, I’m going to take our horses to the livery stable, find a local doctor, and have him check out my arm. When I get back, we’ll go eat some dinner. Is that okay?”

There were other places he needed to visit, but she didn’t need to know that. Still, he didn’t want her leaving without him again. She needed to wait in her room.

She raised her brows. “When did you start having to ask my permission?”

He frowned. Damn, every step of the way, she was going to make his life a living hell. “I don’t, but I lost the bet, and I’m buying you dinner. You’ll be waiting here for me when I return?” he asked, needing something that would keep her from riding off without him.

“Worried I’m not going to be here when you get back?” she countered.

How could he deny that was exactly what concerned him? “Yes.”

She smiled. “I’ll be here tonight. You promised me you’d take me to where Simon could be hiding out tomorrow. I’m giving you that much time.”

“Tomorrow,” he promised, knowing Simon was probably long gone from the place he would take her, but still he needed to check.

“Okay. See you later,” she said with a shrug and shut her door.

As soon as Zach had piled his saddle and saddlebags in the room, he left. It didn’t take him long to drop the horses off, and then he headed to the doctor.

The old sawbones examined his shoulder and gave him some salve to put on the wound. The doc told him Meg had done an outstanding job, and he should heal in about three to four weeks. The shoulder had turned black and blue. Even now, Zach could see some tinges of green where the bruising was starting to fade, but not quick enough to suit him. The shoulder was sore and often ached with a dull throb, but he would live.

The doctor wanted him to take it easy for several weeks, but Zach knew that wouldn’t happen, not with him trying to prove Simon’s innocence and keep Meg from catching the outlaw.

Last, he went to the sheriff. The two men had once been good friends, but now, when Zach walked in the door, he could see the suspicion in the lawman’s eyes. He didn’t deserve that scrutiny, but yet, he couldn’t blame the man.

“Zach, how are you?”

“Healing from a bullet wound. Got it chasing after Simon,” he replied, the memory of lying on that ground as Simon rode away still painful.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Can you tell me if he’s been seen in this area lately?” The town wasn’t far from where he hoped Simon was hiding. And Lord knew, Simon wasn’t smart enough to stay out of town and hidden from the law.

“Why should I tell you anything, Zach? I’m not sure which side of the law you’re on,” the sheriff said.

Ouch. That hurt.
But the sheriff wouldn’t be a good lawman if he weren't cautious.

“I’m on the side of justice, but before I can hang him, I need to be certain he’s guilty. I want to find Simon, bring him to the authorities if need be, but first I want to talk to the widow Lowell. I want to hear from her lips that Simon killed her husband. Can you tell me where to find her?”

Zach would do whatever he needed to do to keep the promise he’d made. Once he finished his investigation, he would either prove Simon’s guilt or his innocence. Once he fulfilled his commitment, then he would feel free to either release the criminal or hang him.

“She took her kids and moved off the farm and back to Cryer Creek, where she’s from. Be careful when you talk to her, she’s grieving her husband something terrible, and those boys of hers are not happy someone shot their father.”

Zach couldn’t blame them. He’d be furious if someone had shot his father. His own father had died plowing the field one afternoon. “No matter what, I want to learn the truth, and then I’ll do whatever the law says.”

The sheriff nodded. “Glad to hear that. Last time Frank was seen around here was two days ago. But he left town the moment I spotted him.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep looking for him. If I learn anything about the shooting, I’ll let you know.”

“Zach, I spoke to the woman. She identified Simon. It was him.”

Still, Zach had to hear the words from her lips, and then he wanted to confront Simon and hear his reaction. Simon blamed Frank, and the woman blamed Simon. Somehow, he had to learn the truth.