Whirlwind Groom (4 page)

She struggled to keep her composure though the hard warmth of his body proved very distracting. “Do the ladies you know carry weapons, Sheriff?”

“We're fixin' to find out.”

His silky voice did things to her insides that she couldn't recall having ever experienced with William. “Derringer? I don't have a gun. I told you I want to learn how to shoot.”

His gaze slid down her body then back up to meet her eyes. “Do you want me to search you?”

She gasped. “You wouldn't dare!”

“I will if you don't show me what you've got hidden.”

“What kind of man are you that you would put your hands on me?”

“The kind who wants an answer,” he said hotly. “Now either show me or I'll get it myself.”

The thrill that shot through her veins told Josie she did not want this man touching her. She instinctively knew she wouldn't forget it.

A clanging sounded from the other room. “Sheriff, I'm thirsty.”

“Shut up.” Though Holt spoke to the prisoner, he never took his eyes off Josie.

She realized the noise of metal on metal was the sound of McDougal banging a tin cup or plate against the bars.

The sheriff dipped his head a fraction, his breath soft against her temple. She smelled leather and soap and man. “What's it gonna be?”

Showing him her scalpel proved nothing, Josie told herself. She angled her chin, hoping he couldn't see how she trembled all over. “Very well. I do have a weapon. I'll get it.”

She dipped a hand inside her square-necked gingham bodice.

The sheriff drew back, eyes widening. “What are you doin'?”

“Getting my weapon.” If she weren't so rattled, she might have laughed at the expression on his face—half anticipation, half stone-cold fear that she might expose herself.

She pulled the blade from between her breasts and saw his eyes darken. Not with curiosity or surprise, but with raw, hot desire. Her stomach did a slow drop to her feet.

“What—” he cleared his throat “—the heck is that?”

The fire in his gaze sent a tingle to her toes and she swallowed hard. “It's a scalpel.”

“A doctor's instrument?”

She nodded.

“I thought you said you were a dressmaker.”

“I am.”

He frowned at the weapon's short silver blade. “You beat all, lady. What are you planning to do with that?”

“Defend myself.” She pressed harder against the door, trying to escape the feel of his lean thighs, the warmth from
his body. “My father was a doctor and he taught my mother and me how to use this.”

“Then why do you need to learn how to shoot?”

“With the scalpel, I have to be really close to someone. Like I am to you.”

He eased back slightly, frowning.

She tried not to smile. “But I have no defense if someone were to shoot at me.”

“Just what can you do with that thing?”

“Stab it in someone's windpipe or eye. If I go deep enough, I can slice into this big vein here.” She touched the side of her neck.

The sheriff eyed the scalpel warily. “You already seem plenty dangerous to me. I'm not sure that you having a gun is a good idea.”

If she had known how to use a gun two years ago, her family might still be alive. “Are you saying you won't help me find a teacher?”

“Are you saying you've decided to make a home in Whirlwind?”

“Uh, yes.” From the excruciatingly slow way her plan was progressing, she would have to. At this rate, she'd be a year older before she ever got to McDougal. “But Whirlwind seems less…civilized than Galveston. I would just feel safer if I knew how to use a gun.”

“And you're going to open a dressmaker shop?”

She laughed lightly. “That's the only skill I have.”

Holt stared at her for a long minute, his eyes hooded beneath his hat. “I'll teach you to shoot.”

“
You?
But I thought—”

“Change your mind?”

“No.” But maybe she should.

“Then I'll teach you. I'm good with guns and I can show you the proper way to handle them.”

“Could you give me a lesson every day?” She needed to check on McDougal as often as possible.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Oh, good. Thank you, Sheriff Holt.” Why was he so willing to help her? Her smile felt overly bright as she realized exactly what their deal meant.

He finally stepped back a few inches. “If we're going to see each other every day, you should call me Davis Lee.”

“All right.” She wouldn't. “I'll see you in the morning then, bright and early.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I'll be in church. Won't you?”

She hesitated. She and her parents had regularly attended church in Galveston. It was the one place she had been able to find a small amount of peace after the murders. But she had come here to kill a man. “Church?”

“It's at the end of Main Street. You can't miss it.”

“Oh, yes.” She recalled the white frame building with the steeple, and a part of her wanted to be there tomorrow.

“I'll see you here on Monday then. Make it about six-thirty or seven in the evening. I'll have to get my other deputy, Jake, to guard the prisoner.”

“All right. Monday.” Tarnation!

She would be spending far more time with the sheriff than she wanted. Despite the opportunity she now had to wheedle information about McDougal out of the lawman, she had the uneasy sense that Holt had agreed to teach her to shoot for the very same reason she had asked—so he could keep an eye on her. She didn't like that at all.

W
hy in the Sam Hill had Josie Webster been in his jail? Davis Lee was still chewing on that question the next morning during church. He knew exactly how she had managed to wind up in his office the minute he left it. And it was mighty suspicious that Jake's horse just
happened
to spook at the same time.

Davis Lee didn't know what to make of the woman. When she had pulled that scalpel out of her bodice, he'd nearly swallowed his teeth. The last thing he needed was to replay the image of her hand slipping between her breasts. He couldn't seem to stop it though he tried hard to focus instead on the doubts she raised in him.

Maybe he was suspicious because the first time he had seen Josie, desire had hit him hard and fast. He didn't trust such raw instant want. It had gotten him in a passel of trouble before and he wasn't giving in to it again. Still, he spent more time thinking about the intriguing brunette than Reverend Scoggins's sermon.

Catching her in his jail reinforced Davis Lee's certainty that she was up to something. Which was why he had gone straight to Ef and gotten a big padlock for McDougal's cell. One reason—the only reason—he had agreed to teach her
to shoot was to see if she was comfortable with guns and knew how to handle them. The woman knew how to use a scalpel, for crying out loud. It was possible she knew how to use a gun, as well.

He had no proof, but he couldn't shake the feeling she had some connection to McDougal. Her request for shooting lessons had seemed too ready. Prepared almost.

After church he turned around and saw her rising from the back pew. The burn of desire he felt didn't surprise him, but the relief that she was here and not slipping inside his jail again did.

She stepped outside and started down the stairs, but the reverend stopped her. Keeping an eye on her, Davis Lee moved into the aisle as his brother, Riley, and his wife, Susannah, gathered up their baby. He greeted Cora Wilkes and her brother, Loren Barnes, who had come to Whirlwind about two months ago to help his widowed sister.

From the corner of his eye, Davis Lee saw Josie move down the steps then stop to speak to Pearl Anderson. This time he walked out on the landing and she glanced up. When their gazes locked, he nodded and met her at the bottom.

He greeted Pearl as she walked past him to speak to someone else, but his attention stayed on Josie.

“Sheriff,” she said.

“Davis Lee.” He smiled. The peach dress she wore accentuated her breasts and small waist. The color became her, warming her golden skin and deepening the green of her eyes. He couldn't help wondering if the deep-cut bodice filled with white pleating hid her scalpel. “Nice to see you, Miz Webster. Did you enjoy the service?”

“Yes, I did. Did you?”

She was about the same height as Susannah, and she was small. A small brown hat circled by a ribbon matching her dress sat jauntily on her head, crowning the mass of hair
she'd worn up today. A tiny mole on her collarbone peeked out at him. “Reverend Scoggins always has something good to say.”

A smile curved her lips. “That's the least committed answer I've ever heard, Sheriff.”

He grinned, moving his gaze to her face. “I have to say I'm glad to see you here and not in my jail. Did you come to repent?”

She tilted her head, looking more serious than he'd seen before. “You're teasing me.”

“Maybe. Are you still interested in your shooting lessons?”

“Oh, yes. I think it's something I should do.”

“All right, then.”

“You'll still teach me?”

“Yes.” Having been hornswoggled before, Davis Lee knew he should keep a distance from her, but he needed to find out whatever he could about this woman.

Judging from his experience with her so far, he wouldn't get far by asking her questions, but he could learn plenty by observing her up close.

“Davis Lee, we're expecting you for lunch.”

He turned at the sound of his sister-in-law's voice. “I'm looking forward to it, Susannah. We're not having biscuits, are we?”

Riley laughed as he walked up with his blond-haired daughter resting happily on his shoulder. Lorelai wasn't Riley's blood, but no one could tell him that. Davis Lee had never seen his brother love anyone as much as he loved that little girl and her mother.

“If you two don't behave, I
will
cook biscuits,” Susannah said. “And I'll purposely make them hard as rocks.”

Davis Lee chuckled. He liked his sister-in-law more every time he was around her. She and Riley had been married only about five months. For a while Davis Lee had won
dered if the two hardheaded idiots would ever realize their feelings for one another.

Thanks to her brother, a pregnant Susannah had come to Whirlwind under the impression that Riley wanted to marry her, but he hadn't been the least bit interested. At first.

Davis Lee felt Josie step away and he turned to her. “Y'all need to meet one of our newest citizens. This is Josie Webster. Miz Webster, this is my brother Riley and his wife, Susannah.”

“And our daughter, Lorelai.” Susannah touched the baby's back with one hand as she shook Josie's hand warmly with the other. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” Josie gave a soft smile.

Riley smiled. “Have you just arrived in town?”

“About a week ago.”

Davis Lee noticed she told the truth easily on that point. “Miz Webster is a dressmaker. She's going to open a shop here.”

“You'd be very welcome,” Susannah said.

“Thank you.” Josie gave Davis Lee a small frown.

“You'd have no shortage of work if that concerns you.” Susannah tucked a stray blond hair into her chignon. “In fact, Riley and Davis Lee's cousin, Jericho, is getting married in about a month and a half. His intended is planning to see a seamstress in Abilene about a new dress.”

“I bet Miz Webster would be interested in the job. Wouldn't you?” Davis Lee practically dared her to say no.

Josie's lips flattened, hinting that she was trying hard to remain pleasant. “Perhaps you could refer me to her?”

Susannah pointed to Catherine Donnelly, a raven-haired woman who stood talking to the reverend with a husky young boy at her side.

Before she followed Susannah's gaze, Josie glared at Davis Lee. He could tell by the fire in her green eyes that she didn't like him poking his nose into her affairs.

Too bad. He wanted to get a bead on the woman who had given him the jolt of his life by pulling that weapon from her bodice.

“Let me go get her.” Susannah hurried off and returned in a moment with the tall, slender woman. She introduced her to Josie then said, “Josie is a dressmaker.”

Davis Lee watched with amusement. Before his little spy left church today, she might have enough work to keep her busy and out of his jail.

As the women agreed upon a time for Catherine to come by Josie's hotel room to discuss her wedding dress, Cora Wilkes and her brother joined them.

“Hello, everyone.” The older woman, widowed almost a year ago when the McDougal gang murdered her husband, patted Davis Lee's arm and smiled at him and Riley. “How are you today, boys?”

“Doin' well, Cora.” Davis Lee bussed her cheek, wondering if Josie knew that one reason Ian McDougal sat in Whirlwind's jail was for murdering Cora's husband, Ollie, last fall.

“Just fine, Cora.” Riley brushed a kiss against her other cheek and shook the hand of the trim, distinguished-looking man next to her.

“Cora Wilkes, this is Josie Webster.” Susannah pulled the newcomer forward as the older woman smiled and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Josie.” Cora gestured to the man standing at her shoulder. “This is my brother, Loren Barnes.”

He shook her hand, his blue eyes warm. “I'm new, too. It's nice that I'm not the only one.”

“Where are you from?”

“Fort Smith.”

“I've never been there.”

Josie spoke warmly, unhurriedly, but Davis Lee felt nervousness ripple off her. Why?

Susannah touched Josie's arm. “I do hope you decide to stay in Whirlwind. You'd like it here.”

Josie smiled.

As Susannah and Catherine admired the other woman's dress, Riley edged up next to Davis Lee and said in a low voice, “Why are you lookin' at her like you expect her to pull a gun and hold us up?”

Davis Lee took a gurgling Lorelai from his brother and bounced her on his shoulder as he eyed the seamstress. “Twice I've caught her showing a powerful interest in my jail. She was watching it from the alley between the livery and Pete's saloon until I saw her there. Now she has a room at the Whirlwind that looks right at the jail, and yesterday, I found her inside. I think she's connected to McDougal.”

His brother frowned. “How?”

“Sweetheart, maybe, or relative. I don't know yet, but I've got a telegram ready to send to the Galveston County sheriff and see what I can find out. I'd have sent the wire yesterday, but Tony got sick and had to close the telegraph office.”

“It sure would be a shame if she's taken up with the likes of a McDougal. She's pretty.”

“Which doesn't mean anything. She's probably also a liar.”

“Maybe not. Every pretty woman isn't a swindler.”

Davis Lee gave him a flat stare. “Just because you found a good woman like Susannah doesn't mean we'll all be so lucky.”

“True enough, but maybe Josie will surprise you.”

“She will. If she keeps away from my prisoner.” Davis Lee watched a shy smile cross her face as Susannah and Catherine spoke to her.

His brother could be fooled if he wanted. Riley wasn't
the one who'd had his heart trampled by a beautiful heartless woman. Davis Lee was harder to dupe and he knew Josie Webster was trying to do just that. First thing tomorrow he would wire Galveston's sheriff.

 

The next evening Josie paused outside Sheriff Holt's office at six-forty-five. Gray clouds had scudded across the sky all day threatening showers, and the air had been pleasantly cool, but the rain hadn't come. Pressing a hand to her stomach did nothing to calm the flurries there. She had watched the jail today while finishing Gus Simon's work shirts.

Sheriff Holt had reverted to his original schedule and stepped out for his usual pie and coffee at nine-forty-five, then for lunch at twelve-thirty. Josie made a quick trip to the telegraph and post office to send Gus's shirts to Galveston. Midafternoon, Catherine Donnelly had arrived for Josie to take her measurements. As Catherine softly talked about her fiancé, a Texas Ranger who was taking care of some business in Houston, Josie worked up an estimate of the cost and time involved to make a dress for Catherine's upcoming wedding. For that hour, Josie had been unable to watch the jail. As far as she knew, McDougal hadn't been let out other than for a trip to the outhouse.

The sheriff hadn't even allowed McDougal to close the privy door. Whenever Holt escorted his shackled prisoner outside, Josie noted it was with a posture that hinted at quick reflexes and an unstinting alertness. The rugged man caused her tongue to twist on itself, but so far he hadn't shown any inkling of knowing the real reason she was here.

As she lifted her hand to knock on the door of the sheriff's office, it opened and he smiled down at her. His eyes were a piercing blue in the evening light. “Good evening, Miz Webster. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. I truly appreciate you taking the time to give me these lessons.”

“You're welcome.” He reached behind him to shut the door. “I'll be back around dark, Jake.”

“Take your time,” a deep masculine voice answered.

As Josie walked down the steps in front of the sheriff, he asked, “Do you ride or should we take a wagon?”

“I ride. Where are we going?”

“About two miles outside of town.”

She nodded, struck by the intense way he studied her. He appeared to be anticipating a reaction from her, but about what?

The sheriff had borrowed a black mare for her from the livery and moved to help her into the saddle, but she had already mounted. She had worn her dark blue split skirt so she could ride astride.

As they left Whirlwind behind, Josie tried to keep her attention on the patches of yellow and purple wildflowers spotting the flat landscape and not the way the muscles in Davis Lee's thighs flexed as he guided his horse.

But the burlap bag full of clanging tin cans that he carried behind his saddle drew her attention to him repeatedly.

She needed to remember that he and these lessons were just her way of trying to find out information about Ian McDougal. Her next attempt on the outlaw wouldn't be hindered.

As they rode leisurely down the dirt road, Davis Lee glanced at her. “I heard this morning that a big hurricane hit Galveston last night.”

Concern flared for all the friends she'd left behind. When she was thirteen, a vicious storm had hit Indianola, killing one hundred and seventy-six people in the city down the coast from Galveston and entirely flooding her city. “Was anyone hurt or killed?”

“I haven't heard yet. All of their telegraph wires are down.”

Which happened in almost every hurricane. Josie frowned. “So how did you know about the storm?”

“Some folks from Houston spread the word. The sheriff there sent a wire to several counties to the north and west.”

“Oh.” Josie decided she should keep her mouth shut. Davis Lee wiring the Galveston County sheriff was something she hadn't considered. The very real possibility that he might ask Sheriff Locke about her made her squirm in the saddle.

About ten minutes later, Davis Lee urged his buckskin mare off the wagon-rutted road and into the prairie's short grass. Josie followed, reining up a good distance from the road when he did.

She dismounted, noticing a small stone in a cleared patch of ground just on the other side of her horse. A clump of blue wild verbena grew at the stone's base.