Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) (10 page)

She reached out to straighten the gilt frame, trying to remember the long-ago days when they were first married. Had he ever made her body respond with fluttering, breathless desire as the marshal had tonight when he touched her shoulder and she had felt his breath on the back of her neck?

No, she did not remember anything like that with Edwyn. Ever. He was a kind man. A decent man. That was why she had married him, and they’d had a good life together all these years. But there had never been passion for either of them in their union. Her husband’s touch had never inflamed her senses like Fletcher’s had tonight. She hadn’t even really known such a thing was possible for her.

She stepped back and stared a little longer, feeling guilty for so many things.

Of course, Edwyn must have had his share of guilt, too…

She walked into the parlor and sat on the sofa, letting her fingers roam idly over the deeply buttoned crimson upholstery. She thought about the marshal, and imagined her fingers roaming over the strong lines of his jaw, through the wavy hair at his nape. Though she tried to chase the thought from her mind, she wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Heaven help her, if he came back in this moment and she found herself looking up at him in the doorway, she would be done for…

* * *

Fletcher sat quietly in the buggy in Mrs. O’Malley’s front yard, wishing he had not returned to see what he’d seen through her front door—a young widow staring so intently, so longingly at her dead husband’s portrait, she’d not noticed the man in her yard.

Perhaps it was best, he told himself as he flicked the reins to head back to town. Maybe that’s why fate had urged him to return here just now—so he could see the way things
really
were, and put an end to this attraction before it gained any momentum. Before it turned into something he sure as hell would have to be crazy to want.

Chapter Nine

Leo blew out the lantern by his bed and snuggled down under the patchwork quilt. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, then out the window where the moon shone brightly onto the hills in the distance. He looked at a star, the brightest one, and watched it flicker.

Listening to the sounds of cattle far away, he closed his eyes and thought of the things Marshal Collins had said to him in the barn.
Your ma loves you very much. She just misses your pa.

He tried to remember the last time he’d seen his ma laugh, but couldn’t. He tried to remember the last time he’d seen her cry, but couldn’t. Where had his tender mother gone? Why was she always so angry with him?

Leo wished Marshal Collins were here so he could talk to him some more. Then he thought of his pa, and he clutched the quilt in his fists.

“Pa? If you can hear me, I want you to know that I’m gonna take care of Ma. She’s been sad since you left us, but I think part of it’s because she’s afraid of losing me, too. At least, that’s what Marshal Collins said. Marshal Collins is a real nice man. He promised to show me the jailhouse someday.”

Leo thought carefully about what to say next. He wanted to get it right.

“I’m gonna take care of things, Pa. I’m gonna see that the men who robbed us get taken to jail, and then Ma will feel better and not worry so much about losing me, too. Maybe she’ll start smiling again.”

Leo turned onto his side and looked at the star out the window. It flickered brightly in the sky, and he watched it shine until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.

* * *

Today was a day for new beginnings, Jo thought, feeling more optimistic than she had in a long time. Heading into town, she sat beside Leo on the squeaky, bouncy wagon seat, heeding some of the marshal’s advice by letting her son drive.

She’d also told him he could run the errands for her in town—all by himself—which gave him a reason to eat breakfast in a hurry instead of fiddling with it endlessly just to prove a point. This way, Jo could accomplish two tasks at the same time: patching up some of the lost love between her and her son, and sneaking her bag out from under the privy floor.

Of course, there was a third very important task. “Tell me, Leo, what did you and the marshal talk about in the barn last night?”

Elbows to knees, Leo held the reins loosely. “Some talk between men is private.”

Jo pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, realizing her optimism was a bit premature. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

He hesitated a moment, as if considering whether or not to continue the conversation. Jo waited, determined to prove she could give him the space he desired. After a few more minutes, Leo leaned back and said, “Fletcher told me you were just worried about me, and that you miss Pa. He said you were lonely for companionship, having to run the ranch all on your own.”

“Lonely for companionship?” she blurted out, then wondered why it should matter what the marshal thought about her. “Of course, I’m lonely for your pa,” Jo said, trying to sound casual, “but I have everything I need in you.”

His eyes beamed briefly. “Did you know the marshal has sent more than sixty men to prison? Some of them were horse thieves. He’s a real good tracker. He chased some of them for weeks.”

“Leo, we have to put what happened to your pa behind us,” Jo said, “otherwise it will eat away at us forever. The men who robbed us are long gone and the trail is cold. We did what we could.”

He shook his head and spoke softly. “No, we didn’t.”

Her heart throbbed at his words. She knew Leo felt powerless and understood his frustration, but she just couldn’t let him act on it. Not while it was still so dangerous. “Yes, we did. You know I spoke to the sheriff about it. I told him everything and he looked into it. There was nothing that could be done to catch those men.”

“But maybe Marshal Collins can help us.”

“No, Leo.”

“Did you ask him?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, I did.” Leo shifted in his seat, as if he knew how angry Jo would be, and was preparing himself.

She stiffened and strove to control her voice. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him what those horse thieves did and that the sheriff couldn’t find them. Fletcher said
he
wouldn’t have stopped hunting them until they were brought to justice.”

Jo swallowed hard. “Is that all?”

Leo cleared his throat nervously. “I asked him to see what he could do.”

“You what?”

“Why won’t you let me do anything?” he asked pleadingly. “I want things to be right again!”

It was bitterly ironic that Leo had no idea how much she wanted that, too, and how far she was willing to go to get it. If only she could explain it to him. But if he knew what she knew, he would not survive the day.

“You’re all I have left, Leo, and I don’t want you getting mixed up in that sort of thing.”

“But Fletcher said he’d do all the work. He’s going to look into it for us. You don’t have to worry.”

“There will be no looking into it, do you understand?”

God, oh, God!
Did Fletcher even
know
his brother-in-law was a killer? Was he here to protect Zeb, or was he about to start sticking his nose into places in didn’t belong, and would he wind up dead, too? She honestly had no idea what sort of man he was. Could he be trusted? Or was he as smooth and seductive as silk, just trying to learn what she and Leo knew about Zeb?

Leo flicked the reins and said nothing more.

Stunned to speechlessness, Jo stared straight ahead. As desperately as she’d wanted to mend the broken feelings between her and her son, what he was asking of her was the very thing she could not give him. Trusting Marshal Collins to investigate Edwyn’s murder was too great a risk. What if he was with Zeb right now, telling him that a young rancher boy was dead set on finding the man who had killed his pa?

Jo needed to stop Zeb on her own, without anyone’s help, particularly the marshal’s. Her son was growing more and more determined every day, and the new marshal with his shiny revolver was giving Leo false hopes he’d do better without. On top of that, she’d actually thought about
kissing
the man. She’d lain awake half the night imagining exactly what it would feel like.

Very well, then. Her choice was clear. The best thing for everyone now was for her to stay as far away from Dodge City’s handsome new lawman as possible.

* * *

After finally retrieving her gunman’s disguise from the privy, Jo returned to the wagon and hid her bag under a worsted blanket in the back. She stood for a while under the hot sun, fighting to recover from the day’s activities because she was still weak and sore from the bullet wound.

Oh, where was Leo? She wanted to get home and crawl into bed.

When she heard people cheering at the other end of Front Street, she turned to look and saw a crowd gathering near the water tower.

Jo picked up her skirts and walked curiously along the boardwalk past the saloon and mercantile, her boot heels clicking a steady rhythm over the uneven planks until she reached the far end of town where the smell of burnt pastry wafted out of the bakery.

Jo stood on the boardwalk shading her eyes, squinting up at the raised platform, and when she saw the speaker, her heart began to race.

There, in a black suit and top hat, his dark mustache waxed into curls, his deep eyes gleaming with the charisma that had gotten him everything his black heart had ever wanted, stood Zeb Stone.

What was this? He was announcing his candidacy for mayor?

His eyes lowered and he spotted Jo in the crowd. For the briefest of seconds their gazes met, and she saw the sparkle of recognition, the hint of a smile. Her stomach clenched with white-hot rage.

The crowd erupted in applause and Jo looked around without the slightest idea what he had said to gain such approval. She hadn’t been able to hear anything above the thundering rush of blood through her veins.

Then she remembered Leo and tried to spot him. He was probably watching from up front. A sea of colorful feathered hats and Stetsons blocked her view, so she stepped onto the street and circled around the audience, going by the tall water tower, still searching. Then, one word from Zeb caught her attention.
Family.

She stood off to the side, watching.

Zeb’s voice gentled. “I want to introduce my beautiful wife, Elizabeth, whose support has been, and will continue to be, my greatest bounty.”

“Isn’t she lovely?” the woman next to Jo said, her gloved hands muting the sound of her clapping.

A warning voice whispered in Jo’s head telling her not to look, but she couldn’t help herself. A suffocating sensation squeezed around her chest.

Elizabeth Stone was lovely, without question, but that was not what nearly knocked Jo over onto her backside. The young woman with the dark features possessed an uncanny resemblance to her brother.

Elizabeth smiled down at the citizens of Dodge, making shy eye contact with them. It was not surprising that Zeb had chosen her for his wife. She was any politically ambitious man’s dream.

Zeb bowed before her and kissed her white-gloved hand, a well-thought-out spectacle that made the crowd cheer and whistle. Elizabeth blushed sweetly.

“And I must also introduce,” Zeb went on, “a man I am confident will bring pride and dignity and restraint to our growing city. My brother-in-law, Marshal Fletcher Collins.”

The audience held back their applause, murmuring with gossip about the shooting and the way their marshal had collapsed decorously before the gunman. A flicker of anger passed across Zeb’s face. Jo rose up on her toes to see Fletcher.

He climbed the platform steps, appearing relaxed and confident despite the crowd’s quiet chatter. Jo felt the tension for him, as if it were she who was up there facing the difficult crowd. He didn’t speak, only touched the brim of his hat. He and Elizabeth said something to each other with reassuring smiles.

“And I wish to take this opportunity to clear up some misconceptions about our new marshal,” Zeb said. A hush fell over the crowd. “Whatever was reported in the newspaper about Tuesday night’s shooting was grossly inaccurate. I witnessed the event, and allow me to assure you, the marshal did not flinch or cower. He walked into my store with his weapon drawn, ready to fire, and that gunman had agreed to surrender. He was, in fact, shaking in his boots!”

A hum of approving laughter filtered through the crowd. “Marshal Collins was wounded in the line of duty because that outlaw was so terrified, he shot his pistol off by mistake!”

People began whispering to each other. Some laughed, and Fletcher shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable being the focus of so much attention.

Zeb added, “But what this city needs to know, is that I did not bring this man here because he is my brother-in-law. I brought him here because we need someone to clean up our town’s distasteful element. I have brought to you, good people of Dodge—The Bruiser!”

The roar of merriment nearly shook down the water tower. Jo was bumped on either side by men unable to control their excitement. Hats were being tossed into the air.

She looked up at the platform where Zeb was shaking Fletcher’s hand. Smiling, they patted each other on the back like true blood brothers, hearing the cheer below them and feeling their power grow.