Lawman (42 page)

It was the absence of Kearney's assurance,
Gabriel remembered, followed by the arrival of an empty box at the
shipment's destination, that had spurred the mine foreman into
hiring detectives. He'd cried foul loudly enough to garner the
attention of William Pinkerton himself.

It was a remarkable hue and cry...over a box
sent deliberately empty.

No one had cause to steal the shipment,
Gabriel realized. With the letter he'd sent unopened, no one but
the foreman himself knew of the supposedly valuable contents. And
Joseph Kearney hadn't stepped as neatly as the foreman had hoped
into his plans to embezzle payroll from his employer's mine.

Evidently, the man hadn't realized it was
not Joseph who ran Kearney Station. It was Megan.

And it was Megan's honorable nature that had
kept that incriminating envelope sealed all these weeks,
inadvertently protecting her father and herself against the
foreman's plans.

Gabriel grinned. Blazes, but he loved it
when a case snapped together at last.

Ordinarily, he would have traveled the
seventy-odd miles between Tucson and Tombstone, and been part of
the foreman's arrest himself. But with Megan waiting for him
someplace in the city, Gabriel found he had no taste for meting out
justice in person. Not when there were operatives already in place
at the mine, awaiting instructions that could easily be sent by
wire.

Not when, for the first time in years, a
better, brighter future lay ready for him to claim it. A future
that included Meg, with her soft touches and teasing smiles and
wily tongued mouth that begged to be kissed. A future that, just
possibly, included several batches of fudge, more laughter than he
could imagine, and, if only Megan would have him, a wedding to
remember.

Yes, Gabriel decided, stepping into the
fading sunlight to head back to the telegraph office. The future
looked sweet indeed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sometime just after dawn, Megan awoke to the
sound of booted footsteps passing near her resting place. With a
start, she shoved herself upright. Disoriented at the feel of
gritty wood beneath her, she stared at the plank porch floorboards
she'd fallen asleep on. Frowning, she shifted her gaze upward,
where a fancy-lettered sign swung slowly in the breeze.

Hop Kee's Celestial Kitchen
, it read.
With dawning relief—and remembrance of her plans to meet Gabriel
here when all was finished with her father and the Websters—Megan
blinked to sweep the cobwebs from her brain. If the tightly
shuttered windows of the nearby shops and the lack of people in the
streets were any indication, it was still early. Very early.

Where was Gabriel?

A thunderous snort sounded beside her,
nearly loud enough to rattle the windows of the restaurant at her
back. Fondly, Megan looked at her father snoring peacefully on the
floorboards beside her. He'd been nothing if not repentant last
night when she'd caught up with him.

He'd also been holding fistfuls of money the
likes of which she'd never seen.

It's a bona-fide lucky streak, Meggie
girl!
papa had announced with a tremendous grin—once he'd
recovered from the shock of seeing her.
Just like I told Addie.
I've never won so big in all my blasted life
!

In wonder, she'd sank into a chair at the
table where Joseph had been counting his winnings. She'd listened
to his tales of incredible luck. She'd heard him talk of doubling,
then tripling, her nest egg money.

And after Megan had explained all that had
transpired while he'd been away, after papa had sheepishly agreed
not to try winning an even greater fortune by wagering Kearney
Station too, he had put stacks of folded bills in her lap...and
bade her to keep it all.

For your dressmaker's shop
, papa had
said with a rascally wink.
And for a dowry, too, eh? Can't have
my girl going to her fella stone broke, now can I
?

Until yesterday, Megan had no idea how
quickly tears could soak through stacks of money.

A cool breeze rattled the sign again, making
it swing to and fro on the slender chains anchoring it to the
ramada
. She peered up at it, then looked down the empty
length of the street. From between the buildings came a wash of
orange and gold, the harbinger of the rising sun.

Where was Gabriel?

And where were her things?

Suddenly concerned, Megan patted the porch
around her. The swing of her reticule's strap against her wrist
reminded her she'd stuffed everything into her bag for safekeeping.
With a sigh, she settled back against the
Celestial
Kitchen's
red lacquered door and pried open the drawstring.

Thank heavens. The deed to the Webster's
mercantile shop still remained tucked inside, exactly where she'd
stashed it. It had taken some doing to persuade Jedediah and Prudie
to sell her the space for her dressmaker's shop. Especially since
she'd pressed them relentlessly to include their entire remaining
stock of pots and pans and utensils suitable for candy making.

Where was Gabriel
?

Perhaps she ought to wake papa and go
searching for him, Megan decided. Surely a brawny,
crackerjack-smart Pinkerton man like Gabriel could take care of
himself...but waiting for him was driving her crazy!

The first scrap of white drifted past her on
a gust of wind, just as Megan was about to get to her feet. Snow?
In Arizona Territory? Astonished at the sight, she remained still.
Another bit of white floated downward, wafting slowly from
someplace above her head. More followed, coming faster now.

Perplexed, Megan captured one. She rubbed it
between her fingers. Paper. Why were scraps of paper floating onto
Hop Kee's porch?

She sat open-mouthed, watching the flurry of
white dance and drift from the sky to the floorboards. Megan
grabbed another piece. Then another. Gradually, she recognized the
shapes and lines penciled on them. It was—
it had been
—the
wanted poster of her father.

Gabriel
.

"Never did like carrying around that wanted
poster much," he said. "Tearing it up felt like a fine thing."

Megan looked up. Like magic, he was there at
her feet—tall and strong and as solid as a dream come true. He held
out his hand.

Nearly afraid to take it lest he vanish at
her touch, Megan gathered her courage and put her hand in his. She
rose in his grasp. Within moments, she found herself in the only
place she wanted to be.

In his arms.

Gabriel smiled, just as though he felt he
was where he belonged, too. Could it be? Tentatively, Megan stroked
her fingers over the beginnings of his beard, and felt his smile
deepen beneath her fingers.

He didn't look like he was there to arrest
her. She'd allow him that much, devilishly handsome Irishman or no.
But she had to be sure. She stepped back a pace.

"Gabriel! Are you—is everything—I mean,
what—"

"Shhh." Gently, he put his fingers to her
lips. "Later we'll talk. For now, just know that it's over.
Over."

With a loving touch, Gabriel drew her
closer. Their lips touched, joining in a kiss as sweet and rich as
his fudge.

No, Megan thought, bedazzled. Far sweeter.
Far richer.

And she found herself still hungrier for
it.

Finally, he raised his head. "Tell me...does
it feel different to kiss a free man?"

"Hmmmm?"

The dratted man probably wanted her to open
her eyes. Instead, she flattened her palms against the wonderfully
solid warmth of his chest and leaned closer. As near as she could
guess, another kiss seemed quite likely. Megan meant to be ready
when it came.

"A free man," Gabriel said instead. "That's
what took so long in getting here. The Pinkerton agency has more
required forms and paperwork than you have fancy hats."

Megan's eyelashes fluttered. No. She would
not break this dreamy spell for the sake of sparring with him. But
she did go so far as to ask, "You quit? You're not a detective
anymore?"

"I'm not a detective anymore.
Disappointed?"

His hands caressed her arms, then moved
upward toward her shoulders. As always, his touch felt delightful.
Megan felt herself sway a little closer.

"Terribly disappointed," she whispered,
tilting her face upward. "I was hoping for another kiss."

"I meant—"

"I know what you meant." Blast it! She'd
just have to take action herself. Opening her eyes long enough to
make sure of his position, Megan lurched toward him and kissed him
full on the mouth. Why ever had Gabriel insisted on talking, when
kissing felt so much better?

His arms tightened around her. His seeking,
hot mouth proved that he found their kiss every bit as desirable as
she did. Reveling in the feel of him, the taste of him, Megan
kissed him back with all the love and enthusiasm she could.

Afterward he leaned back, still holding her
close. An inexplicable expression crossed his face—her reward for
having briefly opened her eyes to see it, Megan supposed. Then
Gabriel grinned.

"Cheeky lass," he teased.

"Flattery, Mr. Winter?" Megan quirked her
eyebrow. "I might was well warn you right now. Talk like that earns
every roguish Irish confectioner of my acquaintance a lengthy bout
of kissing."

She tipped her head back and puckered
up.

"Every Irishman?"

Megan opened one eye. "Well...just the
handsome ones."

Both eyes drifted closed again. The breeze
caressed her face and swirled her skirts around her ankles. The new
morning's sunlight warmed her back. The man she loved just stood
there.

"A lengthy bout, you say?"

Was that deliberation she heard in his
voice? "Quite lengthy," Megan replied.
Hurry up and kiss
me
.

His shadow fell over her, lending her a
renewed sense of anticipation. Gabriel's lips touched her jaw.
Perhaps he was working his way toward her mouth, she thought
dazedly. Megan turned her head...and felt his knuckles nudge her
chin.

"Open your eyes," he demanded. "I'll not
have you sleeping through this."

Sleeping? Affronted, she blinked up at him.
"Sleeping through what?"

"Through this." He clasped her hand in his
two oversized fists, cradling her to his chest. He cleared his
throat. He gazed down at her, his throat working as though to force
out the words. Then something akin to panic whitened his face, and
Gabriel loosened his grasp on her hand, ever so slightly.
"Damnation, Meg! It was easier, I think, when your eyes were
closed."

The man she loved was as contrary as she
was. Baffled, Megan peered into his face. Why, beneath all that
stammering and paleness, Gabriel looked almost....

"Close my eyes?" she asked. "Then I'd miss
that spoony expression I love on your face so much."

"It's only a reflection of the spoony
expression you're wearing right now."

"I guess we're done for," Megan supposed
aloud. "More alike than different, and with a whole future spread
before us. What do you make of those facts, I wonder?"

"I
believe
they're exactly what I
want." With a heartfelt smile, Gabriel drew her closer again in his
clasped hands. "And so are you. Meg, I love you more than life
itself. I love you body and soul. Mind and heart and everything in
between. I know you'll torture me for revealing it, but I was only
half alive before being with you. Please stay with me forever."

"Oh, Gabriel...." Through a sudden blur of
tears Megan saw his sun-bright smile, and knew that if she looked
only half so happy as Gabriel did, they were a lucky pair, indeed.
"Forever won't be nearly long enough. But I'm sure I can wrangle
something to make it work."

His laughter filled the
plaza
,
doubtless startling her papa awake. Well, he'd have the news sooner
or later. Perhaps sooner was best.

"Leave it to you to challenge the length of
forever," Gabriel said. "Does that mean yes?"

Happily, Megan hurled herself closer against
him. "Yes, yes, yes!" she whispered, kissing him between each word.
She tucked her head into the curve of his shoulder, and spoke from
the bottom of her heart. "Yes, Gabriel. I love you too much to do
anything but agree."

His head crooked at just enough of an angle
that she glimpsed the white slash of his smile against his dark
beard stubble. "You're feeling agreeable, hmmmm? This
is
an
interesting turn of events."

She gave him an exaggerated, teasing glare.
"You sound as though my being agreeable is an event akin
to—to—well, to something uncommonly rare."

"Oh, no." With a wicked widening to his
grin, Gabriel slung his arm over her shoulders and helped her step
from the porch onto the street. "I intend to see that it's quite
common. For the rest of our lives." He winked. "Especially during
those lengthy bouts of kissing you promised."

She might have known he'd claim those
kisses, Megan thought. But she didn't mind a bit—it was what she'd
intended, after all. And as they walked toward the sunrise, off to
claim both their future
and
those bouts of kissing, there
was at least one thing she could claim for certain.

She had definitely achieved her dreams.

And that, with love to spare.

From the Author

Thank you for reading this book! If you
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,
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