Lauri Robinson
Authors: Sheriff McBride
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Lawmen & Outlaws
by
Lauri Robinson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Sheriff McBride: Lawmen and Outlaws
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Lauri Robinson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by
Debby Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Cactus Rose Edition, 2012
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-355-9
Published in the United States of America
“Lauri Robinson’s
DOCTOR MCBRIDE
is a wonderful addition to her McBride series.”
~Romance Junkies Review
~*~
RANCHER MCBRIDE
: “Lauri Robinson brilliantly brings these characters to life so that readers will be enchanted...”
~Romance Junkies Review
~*~
A WIFE FOR BIG JOHN
: “This Happy-Ever-After story reminds me why I love to read romance.”
~Camellia, Long and Short of It Reviews
~*~
AN UNBELIEVABLE JOURNEY
: “If you like time-travel stories, don’t miss this one!”
~Stephanie, Simply Romance Reviews
(rated Outstanding Read)
~*~
MAIL ORDER HUSBAND:
“I envision this book will be a keeper for many bookshelves; I highly recommend that you read it!”
~Brenda Talley, The Romance Studio
Dedication
To western romance readers everywhere.
Chapter One
August, 1879
Northeastern Kansas
Hannah Stewart shook like a prairie rabbit cornered by a coyote. She took a stabilizing breath, held it tight. The law was bound to catch up with her, but she really didn’t want it to happen today. Air locked into her lungs as she blinked against the shine of the polished, six-pointed star glistening on the leather vest before her eyes.
Her chest began to burn. Hot air seeped between her lips. With a flip of her wrist, she slammed the heavy ledger closed, trapping Sheriff Adam McBride’s hand between the long, yellowed pages.
“Who stays here, Sheriff, is none of your business.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Mrs. Stewart,” Adam McBride responded in his slow, sensual voice.
Placing both hands on top of the worn, leather cover, Hannah rolled her shoulders against the shivers racing up her back. “Perhaps you’d care to speak to Miss Birdie, if you are so inclined to know who her guests are.”
The sheriff pulled his hand from between the pages. He settled it atop hers, trapping her quivering ones. “Perhaps I would,” he drawled.
His fingers were long and dark compared to the whiteness of her skin, and the heat of his palm set the backs of her hands on fire. She gulped, unsure whether for air or to swallow the lump in her throat. The prickle of sweat popping out on the back of her neck told her the sharp gaze of piercing, green eyes bore down on her. Without looking up, she answered, “S-she’s not here right now.”
“When will she be back?”
Hannah slipped her hands out from beneath his and pressed them against her rolling stomach. “I don’t believe that is any of your business either, Sheriff.” She held her jaw tight, hoping her voice didn’t reveal the jitters racing from her toes to the top of her head.
“Wrong again, Mrs. Stewart.” His finger and thumb grasped her chin, lifted it, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Everything that happens in this town is my business, when are you going to figure that out?”
She opened her mouth, but closed it again, unable to come up with an answer. With another gulp, she swallowed around a lump the size of a potato dumpling.
Tiny lines formed near his eyes as a slow smile pulled the edges of his mustache-framed lips upward. “Just as you are my business, Mrs. Stewart.”
Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. “I—” She squared her shoulders, silently searching for self-fortification. “I am not your business, Sheriff McBride.”
He chuckled, a low, half-laugh that reverberated down her spine. His thumb caressed the skin below her chin. “You most certainly are. Have been since the moment you stepped off the stage, sporting that daffodil-covered hat.”
His fingers slipped away, leaving the tender skin beneath her chin tingling as if it had been singed by the steam of a boiling pot. She swallowed the moan in the back of her throat. He turned, slowly made his way to the door. The heels of his boots clicked a lazy rhythm against the hardwood floor.
He pushed the screen open, and she found her voice. “They are tulips.”
All six feet of Sheriff McBride hovered in the open doorway. Leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world, he turned. A thoughtful gaze roamed over her, leaving a trail of heat.
She locked her knees, praying her trembling legs wouldn’t collapse and make her slither to the floor behind the front desk of the boarding house in Blue Spring, Kansas.
He tipped the brim of his black hat up, allowed the gleam in his twinkling eyes to settle on her face. “Excuse me?”
She wobbled, had to press her heels onto the hard floor. “My hat has tulips on it, not daffodils.”
A wide smile covered his face, made the skin around his eyes crinkle again. “Tulips, you say?”
She gave a slight nod.
One of his dark brows rose. “I stand corrected, Mrs. Stewart.” He used two fingers to slightly tip his hat, then without another word, he turned and walked out the front door of Birdie’s Room and Board.
The screen door slapped shut. The sound was soft, but it ripped through Hannah like a shotgun blast. Her knees buckled and with no grace whatsoever, she slithered to the floor and covered the racing heart in her chest with one equally trembling hand.
She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes. It wasn’t just because he was the sheriff. Something else about Adam McBride, perhaps his overly handsome face, made her feel like she was standing on top of a hill during a lightning storm. His mere presence caused her heart to race so erratically she became lightheaded and breathless.
A moment later footsteps sounded off the front stairs. Hannah took a deep breath and grasped the top edge of the counter, hefting her quaking body to once again stand behind the desk. She blew the air out of her lungs as Birdie Hollingsford walked through the front door.
Layers of lace and ruffles swirled as the older woman twisted to hang her frilly bonnet on a hook near the door. “Was that Adam I saw leaving?”
Hannah pretended to make notations in the ledger. “Yes,” she said without looking up.
“Wondering about those two young men we had staying here last night, was he?” Birdie’s voice tinkled with an amused giggle.
“Yes, ma’am.” Hannah replaced the quill into the ink well.
“Has to be driving him plum crazy! Whoo hoo!” Birdie slapped the desktop with a plump hand.
Hannah frowned and snuck a peek at her boss. Birdie tugged at a few stray curls near her ears and resettled the combs in her graying hair. Green eyes twinkled with delight in her wrinkled face. The wide smile smoothed a few of the deeper lines across her cheekbones but heightened the ones around her mouth. She had to be sixty or more, and had been the definition of kindness since Hannah stepped off the stagecoach, broke and hungry, six weeks ago.
Birdie winked and moved away from the desk. “We’ll just let him fret a bit. It’ll be good for him.” Walking into the sitting parlor she added, “Give him something to do besides hide out from Abigail Christenson. That woman has him as jumpy as a den of rattlers.”
For absolutely no reason she could think of, Hannah slipped from behind the desk and checked to assure Birdie was out of sight before moving to peer out the front window. A broad back a short distance up the road quickly caught her attention.
****
“Tulips?” Adam McBride mumbled under his breath as he made his way across the street and down the boardwalk to his newly revamped office. “What’s the difference? A flower’s a flower.” He pulled his hat off and slapped it against his knee. The woman was driving him loco; had been for well over a month. And it wasn’t just because she was the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. No wonder he didn’t know what kind of flower sat atop her head, with a face that pretty, the poor plants could have been dandelions.
Without missing a step, he pushed the solid door to the jailhouse open and strolled in. Nope, it wasn’t just her looks keeping him awake at night. It was the secret she hid. He could see it, right behind those Sunday-morning, sky-blue eyes. Hannah Stewart was hiding something, and as sheriff of Blue Spring, it was his job to find out what. He’d bet his best horse those two young cowpokes that spent the night at Birdie’s Boarding House last night had something to do with it as well.
He pulled the dipper from the water bucket and took a long swig, savoring the wetness. Every time he got close to her, his throat swelled up like he’d eaten a batch of poison berries. After dropping the dipper back into the bucket, he walked over to the pile of mail on his desk. Maybe he’d missed something this morning. Settling onto the hard chair, he scanned the wanted posters again.
His instincts were never wrong, and acting upon that knowledge, he’d sent telegrams across Kansas, as well as the surrounding states, inquiring about women wanted for crimes. Mrs. Hannah Stewart didn’t look like a criminal, but something told him the woman was running from the law.
Images of homely, toothless women floated before his eyes. Not one of the rough drawings resembled Hannah in any way, shape or form. The sheets of paper floated onto the desktop as he leaned back and lifted his legs. He stretched the tension out of his muscles before settling his boots atop the stack of posters and folded his hands behind his head. Hannah Stewart’s body was not one of an outlaw. Her trim form was too flawless; it curved perfectly in all the right spots. No, her body was that of a wife.
Adam’s boots slapped the floor as he twisted around the empty space.
Where the hell had that thought come from?
He rubbed at the frown pulling his brows together. It was something he’d thought about lately. A lot. Both of his brothers had married, perhaps it was time for him to follow suit. He was pushing thirty, and Mrs. Hannah Stewart certainly increased his available options—delightfully so.
As if Abigail Christenson could read his mind, her irritating voice filtered into his office even before she pushed open the thick wooden door. “Yoo-hoo, Sheriff McBride?”
Adam leaped to his feet, shaking off the river of shivers flowing over his body. He grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and shoved it in his breast pocket. “Excuse me, Miss Christenson, but I was just on my way out.”
She huffed and twisted her powdered face into an unsightly scowl. “Sheriff, you always seem to be on your way out. I can’t believe a town the size of Blue Spring has so many criminals you never have time for socializing.”
He attempted to step around her starched-stiff dress.
She sidestepped, trapping him. “I came by to tell you to be at Papa’s house at six tonight. You will be having supper with us.”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I—I already have plans.” He backed up, pretending to search through the papers on his desk.
She followed, stopping on the other side of his desk. Every muscle in his shoulders tightened. The woman was relentless in her pursuit. A few years ago she’d set her cap on marrying one of the McBride brothers, and now that Cal and Jake were married, he’d become the bull’s-eye.
“Sheriff!” One of her silver-tapped heels stomped on the floor.
“What?”
“I asked what your plans are. What is more important than joining Papa and me?”
“Anything,” he mumbled beneath his breath.
“Excuse me?” she screeched.
