Sweet Justice (3 page)

I eyed him skeptically. Why was he being so nice, so gentlemanly? I questioned his motives. "Why are you doing this? I'm just a prisoner to you," I said, my voice bitter, repeating my thoughts.

"At first I thought you were ogling me in the tub, but I was wrong, you just wanted a bath."

His words were mostly true, for I was longing for the water, but I was ogling him as well.

"You'll give me your clothes to keep."

My mouth fell open. "You're trading a bath for my clothes?"

"You can't escape naked."

"I shouldn't have anything to escape from," I grumbled.

He shrugged. "Ma'am, you're under arrest for accessory to robbery and murder."

"I'm not under arrest. I'm innocent. Everyone says so but you!" I tossed my hands up in the air.

"The only person whose say-so I care about is the circuit judge. Until then—"

"I know. I know." He didn't need to say the same thing again and again. The man was insufferable! I put my hands on my hips, then remembered my brothers. When riled, they only continued to escalate the fight rather than be bested by a woman. Perhaps the bounty hunter was of a similar ilk.

I took a deep breath and tried to even my voice. I replied as sweetly as I could muster. "I don't even know your name."

An eyebrow went up at the change of topic. "Wiley Easton, ma'am."

"Well, Wiley Easton, I will thank you for the kindness, but surely people don't really care if a person's clean or dirty when they climb the gallows steps, even if they are innocent."

Perhaps I could play on his sensitive nature, if he had one.

Mr. Easton's jaw clenched. He hadn't shaved while bathing and although he looked cleaner with the dust washed away, he still looked wild and a little dangerous. I laughed to myself at the irony of that. He was the one guarding me and I was the dangerous one!

"Bathing is a courtesy. Removing your clothes is a requirement until morning." He pointed to the bed. "Wrap the sheet about you for modesty's sake, but that's all you'll get. I won't have you escaping while I'm asleep."

I felt my cheeks heat as his gaze raked over my body in a way that made me feel as if I were already naked. Sensitive nature? The man was the least sensitive person I'd ever met—and I was a Sinclair.

"How do you know I won't shoot you with your own gun?"

He grinned. "You can try, sweetheart, especially unclothed as it holds a certain appeal."

***

Twenty minutes later, I was settled into the tub filled with fresh water. I knew
that horrid man
stood on the other side of the door with my clothes. While I felt confident he wouldn't barge in and see me in my bath—he might be contrary but he wasn't indecent—it was still disconcerting. Wiley Easton was
all
man and he could hear every bit of my splashing in the tub. Why should I even think about the man when he was so insufferable?

I dunked down until just my face above the water, as if trying to wash off all my troubles. My hair swirled about me. At a knock on the door, I startled and sat up abruptly, wiping the water from my face with one hand while covering my breasts with the other. It was a silly reaction, for the door remained shut and one hand would not prevent the man from seeing me if he entered. All of me.

"Miss Sinclair. Supper has been brought around. You should come out before it gets cold."

"I will not eat naked, Mr. Easton," I called out.

I heard him sigh even through the closed door. "The sheet, Miss Sinclair."

Frustration at the man made me slap my hand against the water, sending a spray of it into the air. I grabbed the meager bar of soap and scrubbed myself clean with more vigor than usual. I dried myself then tugged the sheet off the bed and wrapped it about myself. While I was covered entirely except for my shoulders and arms, I had no underthings. I grumbled to myself about the various forms of impropriety. I would eat dinner with a strange man wearing a bed sheet without any corset or drawers! Not only was he insufferable, but he was no gentleman!

Once darkness fell, I stood staring at the bed. It was a good size for one person, but not two. I'd never shared a bed with anyone before. "If I'm naked, then you get the floor." I pointed at the hard wood beneath my bare feet. He sighed, but said nothing more as he blew out the lantern.

I tossed and turned, for the bed was strange, as was the hotel. Even sleeping naked was strange. It was the first night in my entire life I hadn't spent on the ranch—the first night I didn't lay awake listening to my family.

A knock came early as the sun was just coming up over the horizon.

Mr. Easton stood, stretched his back then opened the door. I sat up in bed and ensured the sheet was tucked securely about me.

There stood a man who looked to Mr. Easton, then to me in bed. He stepped inside, forcing Mr. Easton to take a step back. He was in his fifties with graying hair, a portly belly, yet a very observant eye. "It's good to see you again, Wiley."

"Sir."

They shook hands.

"I obviously arrived earlier than you expected," the older man's voice held censure.

Mr. Easton looked to me, then back to the man and held up his hands in front of him. "It's not as it appears. She's my prisoner."

The other man arched one dark brow. "Since when have you taken liberties with a prisoner?"

"Liberties?" Mr. Easton pointed to my dress wadded up on the floor that he'd used as a pillow. "I slept on the damn floor."

The man looked to me. "Ma'am, I'm Judge Appleby."

I introduced myself as I held the sheet in a tight grip over my breasts. Mortification swept over me being caught like this. While Mr. Easton vowed nothing unseemly occurred and I could agree with that, I did feel caught as if we had.

"I'll get this visit moving along. Miss Sinclair is innocent and free of all charges."

"What?" Mr. Easton asked, running his hand across his beard. "There was a woman accomplice!"

The judge nodded. "Yes, it is a woman by the name of Sheila Carter from Miles City. While she hasn't been caught, she's been named and have been given a solid clue as to her whereabouts."

Mr. Easton pointed at me. "She's related to the men who did the crime."

"She is, but Miss Carter was the...
acquaintance
of Mr. Kevin Sinclair and their time together was well documented by many witnesses in saloons not only in Miles City, but in Billings and Hardin as well. Kevin Sinclair confirmed this just a short time ago."

"What about the money box? Clearly Miss Carter didn't have the money box in the bottom of her vegetable basket."

That made the judge pause. "You are correct, but the Sinclair men say Miss Sinclair had no knowledge of the box. They were going to put the money in the bank. Mr. Gibbons at the bank was familiar with this arrangement, albeit an unusual one, to collect the money and deposit it for them."

"He didn't think it odd that the money was hidden among a bunch of cucumbers?" Mr. Easton asked, his voice booming.

"Poor judgment, to be sure, but they didn't want it to be discovered and stolen," the judge countered. "I'll remind you we are in a hotel with sleeping guests all around us."

Mr. Easton sighed. "Then why didn't they tell Miss Sinclair? Why make it seem so illicit?" He glanced at me.

I had no idea about the money box until Mr. Easton and his men uncovered it, so I couldn't even guess.

"Her family didn't want her to know about the extra funds, for then she would know of their wrongdoing," the judge replied.

"You believe this?" Mr. Easton asked.

The judge gave him a pointed look. "The Sinclair men have had a fair trial for the crimes they did commit. I have no reason to believe Miss Sinclair had any part of their wrongdoing. There's no evidence to prove otherwise. Miss Carter is still at large and is someone you should go after. There is a bounty on
her
head, not Miss Sinclair's."

"I'm free to go?" I asked, tugging the sheet a little higher.

Mr. Easton looked at me, considering. I wanted to gloat, but now was not the time. I felt vindicated and once I had my clothes back, perhaps I could hold my head high in town once again. Although, with three relatives guilty of terrible crimes, it might not be possible.

"Not so fast, young lady." The judge rubbed his hands together. "Now then, onto more important concerns. Where are you clothes?"

I glanced down at the floor at my crumpled dress.

"I see. Were you alone with her all night?" he asked Mr. Easton.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"I dare ask the kinds of improprieties that occurred."

His eyes widened as if surprised by such a question. "As I said, nothing occurred. I didn't touch her," he countered, holding his hands up in front of him.

"Then why is she wearing a bed sheet?"

"She was my prisoner and I didn't want her to escape."

The judge's bushy eyebrow went up.

"Have you used this method before?" the judge asked.

Mr. Easton rubbed the back of his neck and looked abashed. "No, but she is my first female prisoner."

"I imagine so," the judge replied dryly. "I have high regard for your character, Easton. Of your values. I've known you a long time, and you've been quite successful at your job and well respected across the Territory. While I think your logic was sound, it lacked propriety in this instance. I don't stand for improprieties and this situation is most certainly one." He held his hand up in front of him when Mr. Easton was about to speak. "Prisoner or not, a woman can not be treated with the same regard. You've given me no choice here except to spare Miss Sinclair's virtue, therefore you will marry her. Now."

"What?" Mr. Easton and I shouted at the same time. My eyes widened and it was possible my heart skipped a beat.

The judge rubbed his hands together again. "I like marrying people much better than seeing them hang. Dearly beloved..."

PIPER

I was married to a bounty hunter in a hotel room wearing just a bed sheet. This was definitely not every girl's fantasy wedding day. Some unions were done spouse unseen. I'd heard of mail order brides where they were wed by proxy halfway across the country. I'd heard of marriages of convenience, especially when a woman was widowed and had children to feed. I'd even heard of shotgun weddings because of an overeager suitor. None of these were the case here. Yes, it was a shotgun wedding, but neither of us was interested in wedding the other, nor had any type of true impropriety occurred.

He hadn't even kissed me! If I was going to marry a man because of my virtue, he could have at least left it in tatters beforehand. But no, Mr. Easton was an ornery, annoying bounty hunter with honor. When the judge pronounced that Mr. Easton could kiss his bride and he lowered his head to plant a chaste kiss upon my lips, I hooked my hand around behind his neck and pulled him in for a real kiss. At least what I thought was a real kiss, for this was my first. I just wanted to know what it felt like, having a man's mouth on mine.

His lips were firm, yet warm, pliant yet yielding. It could have been that we had an audience or that he was stunned at the swift change of events, but I had a feeling there was more to a kiss than that. For just the briefest of moments he settled into the kiss, but quickly pulled back. The look on his face when he stood back to his full height was something akin to surprise. No, it was more like stunned. I think I must have had a similar expression because in that one moment when he actually had kissed me back, it had been...something.

The judge clapped his hands together. "Congratulations!"

I just stared at the man, not sure how to reply.
Thank you
wasn't really an option.

Mr. Easton cleared his throat. "What of the other Sinclairs?"

I may have just been married and my brain addled, so I was thankful to Mr. Easton for asking that valuable question. My emotions were so varied I felt like I had whiplash the time I was thrown from a horse. My family
was
guilty and I knew their outlook poor.

The judge pursed his lips. "They are guilty of their crimes and will hang."

My stomach plummeted and little black dots swam before my eyes. I felt a hand on my arm and one just above my breasts.

"Easy, Laurel," Mr. Easton murmured in my ear. I was picked up and held snuggly against his warm body, but I didn't care, didn't register much of anything except that my family was all going to be dead, and soon.

"Judge, I'll take care of her now. I'd say thank you for stopping by, but..."

I just looked at Mr. Easton's shirtfront as the men spoke.

"Yes, yes," the judge said. "I'm sorry to have upset you Miss Sinclair, I mean Mrs. Easton, but there was no delicate way to put it. You're in good hands with your new husband. I assume you will want to track down Miss Carter?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Mr. Easton replied.

"Good day then."

I heard the door close, but didn't care.

Mr. Easton felt warm and solid, comforting and safe all at once. Odd, since I didn't even like him. He just let me sit quietly for a time. "Laurel, you have to know your family was guilty."

I thought of Bill, running out of the stable with a rifle in his hands, firing at the bounty hunters—and me—with a look of hatred and intent blatant on his face. I'd never seen my brother in such light, but perhaps I'd never known the real Bill after all. Perhaps I didn't know any of my family. They were liars. Robbers. Killers. While they hadn't been cruel to me, they hadn't been kind either. It hadn't been easy for me on the ranch, and I'd wanted to escape the life there often enough. Perhaps I knew what they were like all along, but just refused to see it. Regardless, their illegal ways had caught up with them and now they were to die.

I nodded into his chest. He smelled good. Like pine trees and sunshine and something else, something primitive and male and very appealing. "I know. I mean...I didn't
know,
but now I do."

Tilting my head back, I looked into his green eyes, so clear and direct. This close I could see the stubble on his jaw, the sleep tousled hair. Before I had time to even consider his intent, he lowered his head and kissed me, this time his lips brushing over mine as if testing the feel of them. His motion was slow, the pressure light. I exhaled at the almost soothing touch and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. I gasped this time in surprise, his tongue plundering, learning, and laving me with carnal, almost illicit movements.
This
was a kiss? I never knew a man's tongue went in your mouth or that I would like it so much!

His body temperature rose and I was surrounded by his heat. His hand moved to my nape to hold me in place and I was unable to resist, for I didn't want to. I'd always wondered what it would be like to kiss a man, but this went above and beyond.

Eventually, he lifted his head and his eyes were darker and focused on my mouth, his skin flushed, his lips wet.

"What...what was that?" I asked, my voice breathy and soft.

"If I am to be convicted and sentenced to committing inappropriate acts upon your person, then I should...we both should...at least reap the benefits."

"But...but my family." He'd addled my brain with his kiss, but not enough to distract me.

He sighed, set me next to him on the bed. I felt cold.

"They...they knew the consequences, Laurel, and are probably not surprised by the verdict as you are. Remember, they
are
guilty. They killed innocent people. There's nothing you can do for them."

What he said was true, I knew it deep down, but it was not easy to reconcile. "Then we should just go on kissing and I should just forget about them?"

He shook his head. "Kissing, yes. Forget them? No. You shouldn't forget about them, for they're your family, but you should remember the good things about them."

I darted my eyes away. "I don't have very many good things to remember about them."

He ran a finger down my cheek, which had me looking up at him. "I don't hold fond memories of my mother. Sometimes it's all right to forget. Didn't you ever just want to do that?"

I pursed my lips. Just yesterday I wanted to drive the horses right past Zenith and keep on going, to forget my life, my family. Everything. "Quite frequently, actually."

He looked down at me and grinned. It was the first time I'd seen him smile, and it was quite devastating. "Then my first job as your husband is to distract you."

The word
husband
had me returning to my senses. I pushed against his chest and slipped from his lap, tugging at the sheet to keep it wrapped securely about me, but it was big and unwieldy and I fought the material.

"Distract me? You were trying to kiss me into forgetting that this marriage is all your fault!"

His lips formed a thin line. "Do you think I wanted to marry you?"

I shook my head. "No! You're the one who refused to give me my dress. You're the one who made it appear as if we'd done...things. That man," I pointed to the closed door, "thinks I'm a...a hussy!"

I was breathing hard now, and it wasn't from a kiss.

Mr. Easton had the gall to roll his eyes. "No, he doesn't. He probably thinks you're corruptible and I took advantage of you."

"You did!" I countered.

"Then we should at least make it worthwhile."

"How? How on earth can you make this mistake of a marriage worthwhile?"

"Kissing and then some."

WILEY

My life had gone awry the moment I'd taken on the case of finding the train robbers. The price on each of the men's heads was high enough to fund a retirement on my spread, but more importantly, could bring my father's killers to justice. While the Sinclair men were going to pay for their crimes, this Miss Carter woman needed to be found. I would not have any one of my father's killers roaming free.

It had taken months of investigating, traveling and questioning to end up in the shootout on the Sinclair ranch. I was used to leaving my property, but this time, I'd done it with extra focus and zeal. I was getting too old for chasing men and putting my life on the line, but my father's revenge came first. At thirty-two, it was time to settle down and a woman to share my bed. I just had to catch a wily and dangerous woman first.

I had not expected to obtain that woman—a Sinclair—by judicial decree. One minute I was fitfully asleep on the floor guarding a naked prisoner, ready to collect my reward money for all four of the Sinclairs and get the hell out of town, the next I was collecting a wife.
A wife!

I'd been so focused on her guilt, that she was a
prisoner
and not a woman that I'd let proprieties slip. If the judge hadn't shown up early, perhaps the outcome was different, but no. He'd found us in a compromising way, yet absolutely nothing had happened. The irony of it was that I hadn't even touched the woman or enjoyed any of the actions to which I'd been accused—and found guilty.

I'd been stupid to take that damned bath and to make her remove her clothes, but since I believed her to be a criminal not a
man,
I assumed that since I was a bounty hunter it wouldn't have mattered. Piper had been a prisoner, not a
woman
! But my judgment was clouded, for even at the time I couldn't help but think of her as a woman, a very appealing, beautiful one. Clearly, I'd been wrong in my decision-making. I was married now to a woman who I'd thought was guilty up until a few minutes ago. The sheriff had said she was innocent. The circuit judge had said she was innocent, even had a different woman pinned with the crime.

I ran my hand over my face. God, I was shackled to a woman. I'd had no intention of ever being married. I was jaded to the institution and now I was not only wed against my wishes, but to a woman who was linked to a family of convicted murderers. I didn't have to like it. I didn't have to like
her,
but we would still be wed. No matter what I thought of her guilt or innocence, it wasn't going to change. So I should treat her as a wife, for the judge had legally joined us so I could do so. That meant I could strip her down and have my way with her, when I wanted, where I wanted and how I wanted.

Right now I wanted to rip that sheet out of her grip and see her lush body. I wanted to feel the weight of her breasts, watch as her nipples tighten as I played with them. I wanted to discover the color of her curls that covered her pussy. I wanted to feel the slick folds there, to feel how tight she was. I wanted to fuck her. My cock wanted Piper, not caring whether we barely knew each other or not.

There was only one thing standing in the way of making this happen. Piper.

She stood there staring at me as if I'd been delivered by the Devil himself to ruin her life. Perhaps I had.

"There's no way on God's green earth that you're going to kiss me again. Being married means nothing other than we're stuck with each other." She reached down and picked up her dress, shaking it out with more vigor than necessary. Searching the room, she found the remainder of her clothes in a pile in the corner. Holding it all tucked up against her chest, she opened the door.

"Where the hell do you think you're going dressed like that?"

She looked at me over her shoulder with those green eyes. "Now you're worried about me being naked? A little too late, don't you think?"

"You can't go out in the hallway in just a sheet!"

I stood to my full height and towered over her, but she didn't cower.

"Fine! Then you go out in the hall while I get dressed." She held the door wide for me to leave.

There was no reasoning with a riled woman, especially one wronged as greatly as Piper. My cock ached and I was downright cranky. I didn't want to be married to her either, but she didn't care. Hell, if she'd trapped me into marriage, I'd be downright livid. I couldn't blame her, but it didn't mean I didn't want her beneath me in a soft bed. Perhaps a day of riding would change her demeanor. I had no clue what else might do the trick.

"I will settle the bill, then we ride to Banning. If Miss Carter is to be found, we will start there."

"You want to bring her to justice?" Her pale brow went up. "With me in tow?"

"I want to bring the murderers to justice.
All
of them. They killed my father."

She gasped, clearly not aware who had been murdered or the depth of motivation for justice.

"And yes, I plan to do it with you in tow. The judge didn't offer me much choice. I assume you don't wish to watch your own family members die."

"Really? I saw you kill Bill."

I groaned my frustration. "Not everything that has happened is my fault. He shot at me. At you, too! What kind of brother puts his own sister in danger like that?"

She tugged the sheet up higher over her body and lifted her chin. "What
bounty hunter
puts a woman in front of him as a human shield?"