In the Marshal's Arms (8 page)

“Now. You hold her down while I get the bullet out.”

The next hour passed the slowest of any in Rhys’s life, and he’d spent days on surveillance. Digging into Maddy’s soft skin with his knife until she passed out from the pain, pulling out a bullet, depending on Colby’s help as he stitched her up the best he could.

“I never would have thought she’d turn a gun on me,” Colby muttered, pinching her skin closed as Rhys pushed the needle through it.

“Maybe she got tired of being all alone out here in a house with a leaking roof.”

“She knows she could hire anyone in town to do it.”

“She doesn’t like the way they look at her, knowing what she was to you and your brother. She doesn’t like to go to town.”

Colby sat back, releasing Maddy’s skin. “Well, hell, Marshal, did you go and fall in love with our girl, here?”

Rhys pressed his lips together as he continued to stitch.

“My little Maddy, in love with a lawman. Never thought that would happen. But she came to your rescue.”

Rhys did not want to discuss this with the outlaw, but apparently pain and whiskey loosened Colby’s tongue.

“You screwed her, I know you did. I can smell you on her bed. Thought you were tougher than that, Marshal, falling for a pretty face.”

“I’m not the one she turned the gun on,” Rhys muttered.

“I didn’t mean to shoot her.”

“Of course not. She just got in the way of your bullet.”

“Meant for you. Hell, if I’d known you were screwing her, I’d have taken more time with my aim.”

Rhys bared his teeth at the other man, then finished off the stitches and punched Colby in the injured leg with all his strength. The other man howled and passed out.

Chapter Six

Maddy cradled her arm as she looked out the second story window at the town below. People hurried place to place, heads bent against the wind. The spring temperatures hadn’t lasted long, but at least this new storm didn’t bring snow.

She was warm and well-fed—and alone.

She turned from the window and adjusted the sling holding her arm immobile. She’d woken up two weeks ago to learn that Rhys had brought her here, paid for the room and a doctor, and left.

She shouldn’t expect anything more from the man who’d come into her life, charmed her, made love to her, all while he lied about who he was. How had she let herself be fooled? Because she was lonely and he was handsome and kind and—and lying to her. Using her. No better than Luke and Edward had done. Worse, because he was the law.

She’d replayed everything in her mind, looking for clues, and could find none. Not in the way he talked to her, or touched her, or kissed her. Perhaps he didn’t come to her thinking to bed her, but she felt used all the same.

Now it was time to go home. She’d have to hire someone to drive her because she couldn’t manage her wagon, though she’d been told it was waiting for her at the livery, also paid for by Rhys. But she needed to get home to Jack and her chickens and her cows and her life. Funny how she never felt as lonely as she did when she was in town.

“No, ma’am, I don’t know anyone who can drive you home today,” the proprietor Mr. Ackles told her, his hands braced on the counter in front of him as if to hold himself as far away from her soiled reputation as possible. “The weather is downright raw, and I don’t know anyone who would venture out in it on purpose. Your room here is paid another week. Why don’t you wait for a more suitable travel day?”

“I’ll pay whoever takes me home. I have responsibilities there.” And the peace to nurse a broken heart.

“The marshal said we were to take good care of you. Are we not? You won’t be able to manage on your own with your injury.” Curiosity about her wound brightened his eyes.

No doubt he knew she’d been shot, but she wondered if he knew the details. She certainly had no intention of telling him. “When do you think it might be possible?”

“Another day or so. Would you like me to send dinner to your room?”

He’d been doing that to keep her away from the respectable citizens of town. But since he was unwilling to help her…

“I believe I’ll take dinner in the dining room today. I would like a seat by the window. In fact, I believe I’ll take every meal in the dining room until I go home. Would you please send up a maid to help me with my hair?”

One of the more frustrating things about her injury was being unable to wash her own hair. She worked past the pain to button her blouse, well, after the first week, when she wore nothing but her nightgown. But she couldn’t lift her arm long enough to wash or pin up her hair.

“Could you send up a basin and warm water and soap, too, please? And scissors.” Even if she had to cut it to her scalp, she was going to have clean hair.

Mr. Ackles looked askance, then nodded.

Maddy felt almost human as she made her way to the dining room a few hours later. She was bathed, and with the maid’s help, had cut her hair to her shoulders, a manageable length with her injury. Seeing the lengths of tresses on the floor had saddened her for a moment, but this was more practical. And pretty, if she allowed herself that. Her hair had bounced back in cunning little waves. She drew attention as she walked through the door, and not the recoiling kind. No, she received some admiring glances, which served her battered heart well. She took her seat by the window and ordered soup, something she could easily eat with one hand. She didn’t like being in the middle of town, sitting in the window on display, but she had a point to make. She wanted to go home.

The low clouds added to the chill she felt through the glass. Possibly she should have asked to sit closer to the fire, but no, this was what she needed to do. She ate slowly, though her nervousness made her want to rush and retreat. When she was done, she asked for coffee and a slice of pie, which was really delicious. She never made pies for herself because she could never eat the whole thing.

Full and satisfied, she left the dining room for the stairs.

And stopped still when she saw a lean figure near the check-in counter. She knew that coat, that hat, those mannerisms.

Mr. Ackles looked past Rhys to her. “Wouldn’t you like to stay in Mrs. Colby’s room? You’re already paying for it.”

“I don’t think Mrs. Colby would be very welcoming,” Rhys said with a heavy sigh.

“And you’d be right about that,” she couldn’t stop herself from saying.

He turned and her heart jumped when his gaze met hers, bright with an emotion she chose not to name. She took a step back when he moved forward, his hand extended. She bit back all the accusations, swallowed all the pain at being abandoned here.

He lowered his hand, his expression collapsing into a frown. “You look well.”

She tightened her injured arm against her waist. “I’m going home tomorrow.”

“I’ve come to take you back.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Hey, now,” Mr. Ackles said, stepping from around the counter.

“Let’s go to your room. We can talk there.”

“I cannot have people seeing the two of you walking into her room together,” Mr. Ackles protested.

“You just offered to let me stay in her room.” Rhys reminded him.

“Walking in there together when everyone can see is different.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said, afraid if she stayed longer, let him explain himself, she would fall for his lies all over again. Just looking at him made her remember the joy she’d felt when they were together. She couldn’t allow herself that weakness again.

She turned, and he caught her good arm.

“I had to go. I had to get Colby to jail.”

She leveled a gaze at him. “And you had to lie to me, day after day. You had to take me to bed.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” The proprietor put a hand on Rhys’s arm. “You cannot have this conversation here. I have respectable people here. Perhaps you can use my personal parlor to continue this conversation.”

“I have nothing more to say to him.” Maddy pulled free, when all she wanted to do was turn into his chest and let him hold her, let him tell her more lies.

“Maddy. Please. I came back for you. I came back because I love you.”

She pivoted toward him then. She wished he’d never said those words, not when she was so angry with him. She resented him for saying them, for manipulating her one more time. “Love me? How could that be? Nothing was real.”

He reached for her other arm, and stopped himself before he aggravated her injury. “Everything was real. All of it.”

“Except I thought you were a simple cowboy and you’re a marshal who needed me to arrest an outlaw.”

“I never intended to stay so long, to feel what I felt for you. I never intended to use you.”

“You didn’t trust me enough to tell me why you were there.” And that was the part that hurt worst. “Without trust, how can there be love?”

“I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Her voice rang shrilly in the entryway. “Why couldn’t you tell me? Did you think I would warn him?”

“At first I wasn’t sure, out of loyalty, but later, no. No, I didn’t think you would.”

“So why couldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how, without hurting you. And when I finally knew what to say, it was too late.”

“You’re right,” she said, struggling not to see the sorrow etched on his face. “It’s too late.” She pulled away and hurried up the stairs, part of her hoping he’d follow.

He didn’t.

Maddy pressed a cool cloth to her eyes the following morning, but nothing she did could hide the fact that she’d cried all night. She was tempted to call for breakfast in her room, but she’d threatened Mr. Ackles that she’d eat every meal in the dining room until he arranged for a ride home for her. One thing she’d learned from the Colby brothers—always follow through on threats.

So she dressed, brushed her hair, straightened her shoulders and marched downstairs.

The first person she saw when she walked in the dining room was Rhys, sitting at the center table, leaning back in his chair, one long leg stretched in front of him as he nursed a cup of coffee. Her traitorous heart did a dance of excitement before she quelled it, looking away from him to find an available table.

There were none. She took a step back, prepared to order breakfast in her room, when Rhys saw her and stood.

“Good morning, Maddy,” he said quietly.

For some reason she heard the words in the more intimate way, when he’d murmured them from the next pillow.

“Can we talk?”

She lifted her chin. “I just came in to get some breakfast, not to make another scene.” What little reputation she had would never recover from last night’s.

“I understand.” He stepped aside. “Why don’t you take my table?”

She hadn’t realized she’d braced for an argument until none came. She certainly didn’t expect to be disappointed. She nodded once and he dipped his head in farewell.

Nothing on the menu appealed to her, so she picked at her biscuits, frustration growing. Finally she pushed back her chair and stormed out of the dining room.

“Where can I find the marshal?” she demanded of Mr. Ackles.

“He went down to the livery stable, I believe.”

She charged toward the door, hearing him say something else but not paying attention. Only when she was halfway down the sidewalk did his words register.

“You should take a coat.”

Maddy hunched her shoulders against the cold, since she didn’t have a coat with her in any case, and continued on. The livery stable was at the edge of town, but thankfully the town wasn’t very big. Nonetheless, she was shivering when she pushed through the door.

Rhys stood with the livery owner, and turned his head when she charged in. He, of course, was dressed appropriately for the weather, in a bulky shearling coat and gloves.

“Maddy, what the hell?” he demanded, crossing to her, shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders.

“I decided I do want to talk,” she said, willing her teeth not to chatter as the warmth from his coat sank into her skin.

“All right. I was coming back to the hotel. Why don’t you go and we’ll talk there?”

“I want to talk now. I want to know why you think you’re better than Luke and Edward.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t rob banks and kill people.”

The image of him killing Tim Givens in her yard, a bullet between his eyes, returned, but that wasn’t what she was here to argue.

“You took advantage of me, of my hospitality, of my trust. You wanted to get your man, and screwing me was just a bonus.”

His cheeks reddened and he glanced at the livery owner, who backed away, giving them the illusion of privacy.

“I made love to you because I couldn’t help myself,” Rhys said, his voice low. “You are so pretty and so giving and so damned easy to fall for. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t want to lie to you. But my job was to get Colby back to Lubbock. I’ve never put anything ahead of my job, and I was wrong this time. You mean more to me than my badge, and I never wanted to see you hurt.” His gaze flicked to her shoulder.

 “But you did hurt me. I thought you were different. I thought you were someone I could depend on. I thought I knew you, but I don’t. I don’t know anything about the real man, the marshal.”

“You do. Everything I told you about myself, about my life, that was real. I don’t know how many ways I can say I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself. All I can do is show you. Let me take you home, let me take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me. I want someone who will be my partner. That’s what I thought I’d have with you.”

“Then I’ll be that. Let me have another chance to make it right.”

She looked up at him, into his eyes, and saw sincerity there. Was she a fool to want to believe him? Would she end up being hurt again? Cautiously she said, “I’ll let you take me home. Beyond that, I won’t make any promises.”

Maddy was shivering with more than the cold when they crested the hill overlooking her house. Rhys had been unfailingly polite to her, which only made her more uncomfortable. Would they ever find the ease they’d once had? Or was she hoping for two much?