Loving a Lawman

by Kristen Iten

  Cole stared at the horizon with a blank expression on his face. “So that’s it then?”

  Micah slung the reins over his horse’s neck and mounted his animal. He dropped into the saddle, resolve flashing in his eyes. “Not by a long shot, partner.” He placed the hat back on his wild head of hair and threw his shoulders back. Sitting tall in the saddle, his jaw was set with determination. “Robbers Canyon is about two hours of hard riding southwest of here. It’s just the kind of place they’ll be looking for right about now.”

  “What kind of place is that?”

  “It’s got more twists and turns than a rat snake trying to swallow a ten-gallon hat. Sky and I tracked a gang of bank robbers there years ago. It’s the perfect place for setting up an ambush.” He tapped his horse with his heels and clicked his tongue. They were underway again. “That’s where we’re headed.”

  Cole hesitated a moment, shaking his head before urging his horse to catch up with Micah. “Into an ambush, you mean?”

  “Nope, into a rescue.” Micah slapped his horse with the tail ends of his reins and uttered a deep guttural command. The eager horse burst into a full gallop with Cole’s mount following close behind.

  Cold chills ran down Rosie’s spine when she heard Dub’s gimpy steps drawing near once again. She jumped when a thick, woolen saddle blanket slapped onto the ground next to her.

  “There ya go, pretty lady. I’m sure it ain’t as fancy as your bed, but it’ll have to do.” Dub dropped his saddle and grunted as he sat down next to it by the fire. “Got them beans ready?” He reclined on the saddle, leaning on his elbow with eyes fixated on Rosie.

  She filled a small tin cup with beans and brought them to him, avoiding eye contact. He reached out for the food. Instead of grabbing the cup, he took hold of her wrist and yanked her toward him. She gasped when their faces were suddenly mere inches apart.

  Lunacy flickered in his eyes with each movement of the flames beside them. She trembled inwardly as fear clawed at her mind. Her chest constricted her breaths to shallow bursts that hardly satisfied her need for air.

  “Want to know why they call me Dub?” His eyes grew wide and wilder by the minute.

  She bit the inside of her cheek and forced a smile through quivering lips. Lifting her brows, she spoke in a light and friendly tone, doing her best not to set him off again. “I-I imagine it’s what your mama wanted to call you?” she stammered.

  Rosie was taken aback by the howl of laughter her last words had set off. He let go of her wrist during his wild fit of hilarity. She started to back slowly away. The more distance she could put between them, the better she’d feel.

  His laughter stopped as abruptly as it had started. “Where do you think you’re going?” The threat in his deep voice sent her pulse racing once again. “We ain’t done here. Sit down. I got something to show you.”

  Rosie sat down, trying desperately to hide the anxiety surging in her veins.

  Dub took his left boot in both hands and worked it from side to side until it slipped down his leg. The thick stench that emanated from the bare foot that had been cramped up inside a hot leather boot all day assaulted Rosie’s senses without mercy. She held her breath when he lifted his leg for her to inspect his foot.

  “You see that right there?” He pointed to the side of his foot. Dub’s yellowed teeth glowed in the flickering light of the fire.

  Her brows drew together when she took a closer look at the man’s twisted foot. “What is that?” She pointed to a small bleeding stump next to his little toe.

  “That’s it.” His crazy grin widened. Rosie had no idea what he was talking about. “I got two tiny toes. That’s why they call me Dub—’cause I got double toes.” He wiggled his toes in her face as another crazed burst of laughter followed.

  “It looks painful. Do you have any bandages for it?”

  Dub shut his mouth and slung his cup of beans into the fire, anger flashing in his dark eyes. “Don’t try to play nicey-nice with me, pretty lady. Let’s get one thing straight; you don’t care about me, and I don’t care about you. You’re here because you mean a lot of money to Lyle and me, but don’t push your luck.” He gazed into the fire with rounded shoulders and a sullen expression on his face.

  Rosie saw her chance and retreated to the other side of the fire where the blanket sat waiting. Her heartbeat throbbed in her temples. Never before had she ever encountered such a volatile man. Being in Dub’s presence was like walking along the blade of a knife—one misstep could be her last.

  As crazy as the thought was, she found herself missing Lyle. He’d seemed to be able to keep Dub in check during their long ride. But he was of no use to Rosie, laid out in a drunken stupor somewhere in the darkness. It was just her and a crazy man, hunkered down in a deserted canyon. She’d never felt so vulnerable in all her life.

  Still, she clung to hope. Hope that Micah was out there even now, searching for her.

  Rosie moved the saddle blanket, still damp with horse sweat, closer to the fire. It was just about the worst excuse for a bed Rosie had ever seen. It had done its job of protecting the horse’s back from the saddle earlier today and was covered with horse hair and grime as a result. She was too exhausted to care. Now, it was time for the blanket to protect her weary bones from the cold stone slab they’d made camp on.

  She lay down and forced herself to release the tension she carried in her body. Wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, she stole a final glance at the motionless man on the other side of the fire before closing her eyes for the night. Don’t be long in coming, Micah. Don’t be long.

  Chapter 19

  “We’ll leave the horses here.” Micah gazed at the horizon behind them. The inky black sky had already started to give way to a lighter shade of blue. It wouldn’t be long before the sun broke the plane of the eastern horizon. “If those boys are in there with Miss Rosie, we don’t want the horses announcing our arrival.” He worked the lever action of his repeater rifle and tossed it to Cole.

  “You seem awful fond of this piece. Sure you don’t want to keep it? I came packing my own cannon.” Cole patted the holster that hung low on his hip and flashed a wry smile.

  Micah double checked to see that both chambers of the sawed-off shotgun had a fresh shell, and clicked it shut with a flick of his wrist. “This scatter gun will do me fine. I’ll be going in close.”

  He wrapped his reins around the thick limb of a long dead tree at the mouth of the canyon and glanced in Cole’s direction. “Besides, I’ve never seen you in action. I’ve got a feeling you may need all the lead you can carry, and that repeater holds a lot.” The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

  “So that’s how it is?” Cole laughed. “I’ll have you know, I out-shot everybody at my last family reunion, thank you very much. I am the reigning bean-can-shooting champion of the Barton clan.”

  Micah looked at this ranch foreman turned deputy and saw himself, twenty years younger—before everything had gone wrong. He remembered full well the need for a little levity before he and Sky went into action. Even now, he stood with wet palms and a ball of raw emotions rolling around in his gut. We sure could use your help about now, Sky.

  He tossed a box of shells to Cole. “Load your pockets with these.”

  “Will do, boss.” Both men locked eyes and nodded in solidarity. Neither knew what lay ahead, but they were ready to face it together.

  They entered Robber’s Canyon, weapons in hand. Their silent path kept them close to the wall as they crept from shadow to shadow along the canyon floor. Micah held up a hand, flashing a warning glance at Cole. Both men’s gaze fell on a shiny bottle that had rolled nearly out of sight under a sage bush.

  “That’s a fresh bottle,” Micah whispered.

  Cole leaned close to Micah’s ear. “I recognize the label. It’s Lyle’s favorite. I always had to get on him about drinking too much when we were working Mr. Wagoner’s herd.”

  “They’re here somewhere.” Mi
cah held a finger to his lips, quieting their conversation. He looked to the sky and saw a thin ribbon of pink along the horizon. They only had a matter of minutes before they’d lose the cover of darkness. He led Cole, scrambling across the canyon to the remains of an ancient rock slide. If he could climb to the top unseen, he’d have a better chance of spying out where the outlaws had camped for the night.

  Micah made quick work of the steep climb and was halfway up the side of the canyon before he stopped to look around. He slowly raised his head above the large rock he used for cover. His body stiffened when he saw the glowing light of a dying fire flickering on the canyon wall not far off. I’m coming for you, Rosie.

  Hurrying to the ground without making a sound, he motioned for Cole to follow. He led him in a wide arc around the outlaw camp, taking advantage of the higher ground. He’d been at this game long enough to know that high ground won battles. Everything around them glowed with the colors of the sunrise, urging Micah to quicken their pace.

  Finally, they stood on a ledge overlooking the outlaw camp. A knot rose in his throat when he saw Rosie lying curled up on her side. The only thing between her and a desperate criminal was a dying fire with a pot still warming over its smoldering embers.

  The sight brought him back to the night he’d found her wounded in her home. She had looked so fragile that night. But if the last few days had taught him anything, it was that his Rosie was made of tougher stuff than most.

  Micah signaled Cole to circle around to the right. He mouthed, “Cover me.”

  “Be careful down there, boss. I still haven’t spotted Lyle,” Cole breathed the words with barely a sound.

  Micah nodded and started his silent descent. Every muscle in his body was rigid as he clutched the shotgun in his right hand, adrenaline sharpening his senses. He scanned the area with narrowed eyes for the second outlaw but saw no one. He waited at the base of the canyon wall while Cole got into position.

  A wave from Cole was Micah’s cue to set his plan into action. It was a simple plan—take Dub down, take Rosie home. He went straight for the fugitive with his finger on the trigger.

  He was only about six paces away from his quarry when Rosie stirred on the other side of the fire. She sat up with shining eyes and gasped. “Micah!”

  In that instant, Dub sat straight up, drawing and cocking his weapon in one smooth motion. He leveled it at the distracted sheriff. Micah’s pulse picked up its pace as he stood looking down the barrel.

  “You thought you was goin’ to sneak up on me while I was sleeping, didn’t you?” The man sneered as he leaned back onto one elbow. “I was playing opossum ‘til the time was right. I heard you coming from a mile away.” An easy laughter shook his shoulders. “Come on over and sit next to me, pretty lady.”

  Rosie hesitated for a moment, looking to Micah with pleading eyes.

  Every hint of Dub’s wicked smile disappeared as a darkness came over his features. “Now, woman!” His booming voiced was barbed with unspoken threats.

  “You go ahead and stay put, Miss Rosie.” Micah’s voice was as sure and steady.

  “Get yourself over here or I’ll drop this lawman right here and now.”

  Panic flashed across Rosie’s features. “All right. Don’t shoot him.” Rosie gathered her skirt in her hands and sat in the small space between Dub and what remained of the fire.

  “Drop your gun.” Dub’s deep set eyes bore holes into the sheriff.

  Micah didn’t dare take a chance with Rosie’s life. He lifted his left hand clear of the holster that held his revolver, keeping his eyes fixed on Dub as he lowered the shotgun to the ground. “This is your last chance to surrender,” he said.

  “Surrender?” He snaked his arm around Rosie’s waist and leaned into her. Micah’s blood ran hot as Dub’s scruffy cheek pressed up against the porcelain skin of Rosie’s face, disgust marring her features. “I’m the one holding all the cards, sheriff.”

  A shot rang out from somewhere nearby and Dub cried out, grabbing at his thigh. “Who done that? Who shot me?” He fired his revolver recklessly in the direction of the shot, raging at the surrounding rocks.

  Rosie reached out and grabbed the simmering pot of coffee sitting on the fire. She hurled the contents in Dub’s face, dousing him in scalding liquid. He dropped his gun and brushed furiously at the moist coffee grounds sticking to his neck and face, singeing his skin. Micah drew his revolver as Rosie dove away from the wild outlaw.

  Cole emerged from hiding with a bleeding hand as Micah kicked the outlaw’s weapon out of reach. With a rustle of skirt and clicking heels, Rosie rushed to Micah and threw her arms around him. Warmth exploded inside him as she buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his free arm around her and held her close.

  “I can’t believe you did that.” Dub looked at Rosie, his face twisted with spasms of shock and furor. He lunged at her, forgetting about his wounded leg and landed flat on his stomach.

  With his six-gun leveled at the outlaw, Micah said, “That’ll be enough out of you.”

  Dub lay on his stomach with a slack jaw, too stunned to speak.

  “You all right, Cole?” Micah spoke without taking his eyes off of the pitiful criminal on the ground in front of him.

  “He got me pretty good in the hand but I’ll live.”

  “Not for long.” An unfamiliar gravelly voice called out from somewhere behind them. Micah’s stomach clenched at the metallic click of a hammer being pulled back.

  Chapter 20

  Rosie’s body trembled in Micah’s arms as heavy footfalls drew closer from behind. He looked down into her blue eyes and saw fear trying to take hold. He held her tighter and spoke softly. “We’re going to make it, Rosie.” He felt her body relax into his as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

  “It’s a standoff, Lyle. You can’t win,” said Cole.

  “And neither can you,” Lyle spat the words out with the same sneering tone of voice his brother had used a few minutes before. “That is what a standoff means, right?”

  “There are two guns pointed at your brother,” said Micah. “You fire your weapon at either Cole or me, and there’s no way Dub makes it out of this canyon alive.”

  “He never was the sharpest spoon in the kitchen, but I ain’t no dummy. You ain’t going to risk that lady catching a bullet.”

  “Shoot ‘em, Lyle! Shoot ‘em both. What are you waiting for?”

  “Shut up, Dub. How many times do I have to tell you that you ain’t runnin’ the show?” Lyle was closing in. “Drop your guns.”

  A few pinpoints of light shone brightly on the other side of the canyon wall in front of Micah. A broad smile spread over his face when they quickly disappeared. “This is your last chance to surrender.” His voice thundered, reverberating through the canyon. “Throw down your weapon.”

  “Don’t test me, Lawman.” Lyle’s boisterous voice was filled with venom. “You’ll have to pry this gun from my cold dead—”

  CRACK! The sound of a rifle blast cut off his words. Lyle’s weapon tumbled to the ground, and he followed closely behind.

  “What happened?” Rosie’s voice was breathless against his chest. Micah quieted the confusion clouding her eyes when he turned and pointed to the top of the canyon.

  A figure clad in black stood perched on the rocky ridge. He raised a rifle over his head in salute. “Marshal Big Sky Chambers happened.” He glanced over at Cole who still held the rifle in his hands, business end pointing at a stunned Dub. “Can you handle that one?” He nodded in Dub’s direction.

  “Yes, sir. I got him covered.”

  Micah released a long breath and with it all of the tension he’d been carrying since the day before. He holstered his gun and led Rosie around the corner and up a small rise. Once at the top, he turned to face her.

  He resisted the urge to run his thumb over the creases on her forehead that worry had put there.

  “The baby, Micah. Did anyone tend to the baby?”

  “He’s being
well looked after. Miss Emma is taking care of him until we get back.” Micah watched as the concern pinching her face melted away. The soft, golden rays of the sun illuminated the ringlets that hung loosely about her shoulders. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he searched the depths of her eyes once again.

  An invisible force drew his body to hers as he took her arms in his hands. “Rosie …” His hands slid up her arms, breath catching in his throat. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and cupped her cheek in his hand. Fire shot up his arm when she reached up and placed her soft hand over top of his.

  “I've been a fool, Rosie.” His voice was husky with desire as he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. The fingers of his left hand were lost in a sea of silky curls when he cradled her head. “I thought I was protecting you, but I was wrong.”

  He brushed her temple with a gentle kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Her warm breath teased his lips, drawing him closer as his other hand found the small of her back. The way her soft curves perfectly molded to his lean body sent a thrill racing through his veins.

  “Rosie.” He felt a shiver run down her spine when he whispered her name. He spoke again, their lips nearly touching. “I know you're engaged but engaged ain't married.” He pressed hungry lips to hers, releasing every drop of passion he'd pent up for so long. He savored the feeling of her supple mouth against his. Years of pain and regret were washed away in that singular moment in time.

  Rosie placed the palm of her hand on his chest and pushed him back, gasping for breath. A surge of heartache swelled in his chest. I waited too long. I've lost her. He took a step back from the woman he loved. “I'm sorry, Miss Rosie. I shouldn't have done that.” He turned quickly away to hide his pain.

  A small hand caressed the center of his back. The shock wave of her touch sent a painful ripple of desire washing over him.

  “Micah, you don't understand. I just wanted to tell you—”