“See. That’s what I mean. You say the strangest things. What the hell is a funny farm?”
“I thought gentlemen didn’t cuss in front of ladies.”
Wes smirked. “Oh, no. That’s not going to work. Don’t attempt to change the subject. As a Federal Marshal, I have the right—hell, the duty—to know where you came from.”
Anna chewed her lip, thickening his blood and sending it right to the place he was trying desperately to ignore. Before she was able to answer him, a pounding shook the door.
Wes grabbed his rifle the same time Anna pulled her gun from where she’d obviously put it in her bedroll. He put his fingers to his lips and motioned with his head for her to stand against the wall next to the door. He cocked his rifle, then eased the door open.
The weather had changed since he’d taken care of the horses. A soft rain fell, causing dark green leaves to release pools of water, which plunked on the ground, splashing up like fish in a pond. An older man with a long gray beard stood there, his soaking wet clothes dripping more water. He shifted a wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other. “Can ye give me a place to rest for the night?”
A quick appraisal of the man reassured Wes he was no threat. He placed the rifle against the wall and opened the door wider. “Your name?”
“Jaime. Jaime MacClan.” The man limped through the doorway, a pool of water quickly surrounding him. “I’m headed to Denton, but me horse threw a shoe.” He pulled at his beard. “Thought if I could stay the night out of the rain, I’d fix her up tomorrow, and be on me way.” He turned when Anna moved to the center of the room, sliding her gun into the back of her trouser waistband. “Oh, sorry, lass.” The man swiped off his wet hat. “I dinna know ye had yore wife with ye, lad.”
Aware that their being alone together would raise questions, and possibly cause Anna some embarrassment, Wes didn’t correct the man. “Sit next to the fire and warm yourself.” He turned to Anna. “Honey, why don’t you warm up that coffee, and Mr. MacClan can dry off a bit by the fire?”
Anna snickered softly, obviously enjoying his subterfuge. Frustrated at having their conversation interrupted just when he thought she’d finally solve the mystery, Wes pushed all his questions to the back of his mind until later. The release of tension in Anna’s body only enforced his determination to discover what she was hiding.
After removing his dripping hat and soaked woolen coat, Mr. MacClan pulled one of the chairs close to the fire and extended his hands toward the flames. “I appreciate this, lad.” He turned to Wes. “What did ye say yore name was?”
“Shannon. Wes Shannon.”
Mr. MacClan nodded. “Pleased ta meet ye, Mr. Shannon.” He glanced at Anna who stood against the wall, studying the man as if she expected him to whip out a pistol and start firing. “Pleased ta meet you, too, Mrs. Shannon.”
She nodded and pulled another chair closer to the fire.
“We have a bit of food left from our supper, if you’d like some.” Wes cut off a hunk of bread, and handed it to the man, along with a slice of cheese and an apple.
“Thanks again.” MacClan took the food and dug right in.
Wes joined the two of them in front of the fire, and for the next hour their guest entertained them with stories of Scotland, where he’d lived up until ten years ago. Wes also shared the bit of whiskey he’d brought with him, and soon Jaime burst into song, his fine tenor voice reverberating off the cabin walls.
Anna finally relaxed, convinced the funny little man meant them no harm. At first she eyed him carefully, watching for any sudden movement on his part. But now she’d reached the point where all she wanted to do was sleep. The warmth of the fire, the long day, and the taste of whiskey Wes had handed her a while ago had taken its toll.
“Honey, why don’t you crawl into your bedroll, and sleep. You look exhausted.” Wes grinned when she jerked her head up, only a minute before she’d have most likely begun to snore.
“Aye, ‘tis sorry I am for keeping ye and the missus up all this time.” MacClan stood and glance around the room. “If ye both have bedrolls, I’ll be taking the bed in the corner, unless it collapses under me.” He slapped his thigh and laughed, then stumbled away. “But first I think I’ll be making a wee visit to the trees outside, if ye get my meanin’.”
Anna was also aware of a pressure low in her abdomen. Once Jaime returned, she would make her own visit. What she wouldn’t give for a modern bathroom with a toilet, hot shower and bright lights. Big fluffy towels, her razor, and deodorant. Although she had the toothbrush that she carried in her purse with her, a tube of creamy white toothpaste would be welcome right now.
The rain had stopped, but the leaf-covered ground on top of inches of mud was a far cry from her imagined bathroom. She quickly did her business and returned to the cabin. Mr. MacClan was already snoring in the corner, and Wes was stretched out in his bedroll on his back, his hands tucked behind his head. He watched her as she removed his duster and crossed the room to join him.
“It didn’t take Jaime long to fall asleep.” Anna edged into the bedroll, then turned to her side, propping her head on her hand.
“Must’ve been the whiskey.” Wes shifted so he faced her. “I don’t suppose you would like to continue the conversation we were having when our guest arrived.”
Anna shook her head. “I’m tired.” Her gaze held his. “And why did you tell Mr. MacClan I was your wife?”
“The two of us here, alone? I’m sure you know what he would have thought if I didn’t say we were married.”
She shrugged. “We’ll probably never see him again.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He reached over and took her hand. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think badly of you.”
Anna felt her face flush and her stomach flutter. Her hand heated where he held it, shooting warmth up her arm, causing goose bumps to break out. Unsettled, she tugged at her hand, but instead of releasing it, Wes pulled her closer, and lowering his head, touched his mouth to hers.
His lips were soft and tasted of the whiskey he’d had. When she didn’t resist, he slid his palm around her waist and gathered her against him. Very large bells went off in her head, and she fought the urge to groan. Although her experience was somewhat limited, Robbie being only the second man she’d slept with, she certainly had quite a bit of practice when it came to kissing. On a scale of one to ten, Wes scored an easy eleven. His tongue rubbed against her lips, and she opened, allowing him to skim her mouth, raising her temperature even more.
Almost of its own free will, her hand slid up his chest, resting at the back of his neck. Wes released her mouth and kissed the sensitive skin under her ear, then trailed his lips down her neck, across her jaw. Anna played with the silky hair hanging over his collar, leaning her head back, giving him better access. Soon the sound of their heavy breathing competed with MacClan’s snores.
Wes abruptly pulled back, regret in his eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
Anna tugged him back, but he resisted. “No. For one thing, we’re not alone.” He gestured toward the noisy sleeper. “And I don’t want to dishonor you.”
Dishonor me? Does he really think I’m a virgin? At my age?
Before she could form an answer, he ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Good night.” Then he settled into his bedroll and gave her his back.
Anna’s heart was about to jump out of her chest. Talk about being left frustrated. How could he do that? Her sex was throbbing. Unless he was a eunuch, which she had no reason to believe he was, he had to be as frustrated as she was. “Wes?”
“Don’t, Anna. Just go to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
He turned back around, his eyes blazing with passion. “I shouldn’t have started that.”
“Perhaps not, but the point is you did. Now what?”
He hesitated, his mouth working. “I could . . . you know.” His face flushed.
She shoved the bedroll away and sat up. “No, I don’t know. You c
ould what?”
He dragged his palm down his face. “I could . . . take care of you.”
“Oh, Lord.” Despite the agony on his face and the state of her body, she burst out laughing. “No, marshal, you don’t have to take care of me.” She lay back down and rolled to her side, facing away from him. “I’ll be fine. Just fine.”
“Mo chreach!Ye two sure are a couple of chatterboxes,” MacClan shouted from his spot in the corner.
The next morning, Anna and Wes left Jaime at the cabin and headed further into the woods to continue their search. Wes was finding it hard to concentrate after last night’s disaster. Why the hell he started what they couldn’t finish irritated him. He knew nothing about Anna, aside from the mystery surrounding her. Yet despite his natural suspicion, and years of keeping everyone at arm’s length, he’d been ready to drop his drawers and take her on the floor of the cabin like an animal. With Jaime snoring away in the corner. He must have been mad. Or possessed. Possibly Anna Devlin was a witch, and she’d cast a spell over him. He snorted, wondering how he’d gotten so tied in knots over this woman.
“You all right over there, marshal?” Anna cast him a glance, her full lips in a slight smile.
Wes took a deep breath. “About last night—”
Anna held up her hand. “No. Let’s not go there. I’m prepared to forget it, if you are.”
“That’s the problem,” he said, his voice low. “I’m not sure I want to forget it.”
With a scowl, Anna pulled up on her reins. “Well, I am. It was a mistake. We were tired, we both had some whiskey and our libidos took over.” She shrugged. “It’s all good.”
“There you go again with those words.”
“Sorry. In your lingo, our lust took over.” She grinned and pressed her heels to her horse’s side. “Better?”
Wes watched her ride away, her lush bottom in those tight trousers bringing his body back to the state it was last night. I’ve got to get away from this woman.
A couple of hours after they’d ridden from the cabin, they broke through the woods and entered a town. A weather-beaten wooden sign had been haphazardly nailed to a decaying oak tree.
Devil’s Dunjon--Enter At Yore Own Rysk
She shivered slightly, pretty sure this wouldn’t be her salvation, a modern town with cars, gas stations and a McDonald’s. They started down the street and she sighed. No Big Mac for her.
“Let’s stop at this café and have something to eat. Maybe someone saw the outlaws.” Wes nodded toward a small restaurant nestled between the undertaker and a saloon.
It might have been the close proximity to the saloon, or maybe even the undertaker, but the men huddled around the few tables in the café had the scruffy look of those who lived on the wrong side of the law. The men in Denton had the demeanor of cowhands and farmers, ready to start their day’s work, and then return to their families in the evening. She took in this group and shuddered, glad to have her handgun tucked into her waistband.
Wes led them to a table in the corner and immediately took the seat against the wall. This left her facing away from the room, and the police officer in her screamed, ‘turn around!’ Before she could talk herself out of it, she picked up her chair and set it alongside Wes, no longer presenting her vulnerable side to a bullet.
“Good move,” he mumbled, his eyes scanning the room.
“Yeah?” A middle-aged woman, missing most of her teeth, with her greasy hair pulled back into a ponytail, walked up to the table.
“What’s good?” Wes asked.
“Nothin’. Whatcha want?”
Wes glanced to the table next to him, where a man bent over his plate, pushing food into his mouth. “What’s that?”
“Beef stew.”
“We’ll have two bowls of the stew. And bread.”
She shuffled away.
“Are you sure we should eat here?” Anna had to look away from their neighbor, who ran his tongue around his mouth and burped loudly.
“Everyone here seems to have no problem with the food.”
Anna leaned in closer. “Did you think maybe that’s why the undertaker is next door?”
They both jumped as the woman slammed two cracked bowls in front of them. A hunk of bread stuck out from either side of each bowl. “That’ll be fifty cents.”
Wes reached into his pocket and handed the coins to the woman. She grunted and hobbled off.
Anna ate a few bites of the stew, which had never seen a piece of beef in its life. The bread was surprisingly good, so she filled up on that. Being of a braver sort, Wes finished all of his meal.
“Now what?” Anna pushed the bowl away, and leaned her forearms on the table.
“We find the local sheriff and see if he knows anything.” He glanced around. “Although from the looks of things, that’s not a promising start, but we’ll try.”
It took them twenty minutes to find the sheriff’s office, since it wasn’t labeled, and no one they spoke with seemed clear as to where it was. Wes opened the door to a wiry man, his feet up on the desk, his hat covering his face, snoring away.
“Hey!” Wes shouted, knocking the sleeper’s feet off the desk.
“What the goddamn hell!” The man shouted, scrabbling for his gun.
Wes had his drawn and pressed against the man’s chest before his fingers reached his holster. “You shouldn’t sleep on the job.”
The sheriff raised his hands. “Whataya want? I ain’t got no money here, it’s all over at the bank.” He gestured toward the window.
Wes pushed the gun again, driving the man back. “Well, aren’t you the helpful sheriff.”
“The town don’t pay me enough to get shot at,” the sheriff groused.
“And it apparently doesn’t pay you enough to stay awake, either.”
The man shrugged as if it wasn’t a problem.
Wes shook his head in disgust, shoving his gun back in its holster. He placed his hands on his hips. “I’m Marshal Shannon from Denton. I’m tracking four men who held up the stagecoach in this area a couple of days ago.”
The sheriff waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t know nothin’ about that.”
“Well now, sheriff, I sure don’t want you to overwork yourself.” Wes glared at him.
“I told ya, I don’t get paid enough.” He stuck out a belligerent chin.
The muscle in Wes’s jaw tensed, but after a minute when the sheriff didn’t add anything more, Wes turned. “Let’s go.”
Anna had to hurry to keep up with him. “Wow. That was sure some sheriff.”
When he only grunted his answer, she added, “What do we do now?”
He turned, a glint in his eyes. “You tell me. I thought you were the trained police officer?”
“Not in this century,” she shot back without a thought. And snapped her jaw shut. Oh God, what did I just say?
Wes came to an abrupt halt and caught hold of her arm. “What?”
Anna wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing.”
He grasped her chin, and turned her face toward him. “It sure sounded to me like you said not in this century.”
“You misunderstood me. I said I wasn’t trained to be a sentry.”
He contemplated her answer for a moment. “We need to start questioning some of the shopkeepers, but this conversation will resume when we get back to Denton.”
Anna shrugged. “Where do you want me to start?”
Wes nodded toward the other side of the street. “You take that side, I’ll take this one.”
When she turned to go, he reached out and grasped her arm. “Keep that gun tucked away. I don’t like the looks of this town, and the sheriff is anything but competent. If things get dangerous, come find me.”
Anna huffed. “I can—”
“Take care of yourself. I know. Just do what I said.”
She felt Wes’s eyes on her back until she entered the dry goods store, the light tinkle of a bell announcing her arrival.
Wes continued
to stare at Anna as she opened the door and disappeared inside. More confused than ever about the woman, he headed to the livery for what would no doubt be a huge waste of time.
After two hours of nobody knowing anything, seeing anything, or for that matter, caring about anything, Wes met up with Anna, and they headed out of town.
“I’ve never seen so many surly people in my life,” Anna grumbled as they entered the wooded area that would lead them back to Denton.
“Something about this place makes me sure our outlaws are either holed up here right now, or will be sometime soon.”
Anna glanced at him and nodded as she kicked her horse’s sides. “I imagine we’ll have to camp out tonight?”
“We can probably find another abandoned cabin.” Wes wasn’t sure spending another night with Anna under the same roof was a good idea. Determined to uncover this woman’s mystery, he also found his attraction to her disturbing. She rode beside him, the wind whipping strands of her ink black hair that she’d let hang free. Her cheeks were flushed, and a slight smile tugged at her lips. Lips that he would love to cover with his own, right before he kissed his way down that stubborn chin to the tops of her rounded breasts he’d gotten a glimpse of the day she’d arrived in that strange shirt.
He sighed and attempted to restrain his thoughts. Anna was a problem he didn’t need and he had no right to act on his attraction to her. He didn’t dare drag a woman into his dark world. Until he got himself under control, it would be best to stay as far away from her as possible.
Not goddamn likely.
The rest of the day brought them into the deep woods where they passed a couple of cabins. They’d been riding single file, and the sun setting behind them would soon disappear completely. “Let’s stop at the next cabin we see,” Wes called out to her. Anna nodded, weariness visibly dragging her shoulders down.
Within a half hour they came upon another of the squat-roofed cabins that had housed trappers years before. In front of him, Anna veered off to her left and rode up to the hut. She slid off the horse, and placing her hands on her lower back, stretched on her toes, attempting to ease her muscles. With her breasts shoved forward, her nipples stood prominent against the shirt she wore. Wes’s mouth dried up, his blood racing to his groin.
A Tumble Through Time Page 8
