The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2

by Debra Mullins

  He grinned at her shocked gasp, and she dropped the carpetbag she carried. He took her wrist.

  “Evening, Miss Calhoun,” he said, slapping the handcuffs closed. “I see you’re ready to go.”

  Chapter Four

  “What are you doing here?” Susannah hissed, her pulse pounding from the scare he’d given her when he’d stepped out of the darkness. “Get these things off me!”

  He smiled, his teeth a flash of white in the shadowed planes of his face. “I told you I was going to escort you to Denver. And here you are, all packed and ready to go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. Now take these things off!”

  “You know I can’t do that.” He took her arm, then bent down and scooped her bag from the ground. “You wouldn’t want me to lose my job, would you?”

  “If you don’t let me go, I’ll lose my life!” She dug in her heels as he half-dragged her behind the dry goods store where the horses stood waiting. “Darn it, Jedidiah Brown, don’t you hear what I’m saying?”

  “I hear.” Keeping his grip on her arm, he hooked her bag over the saddle horn, then turned his complete attention on her. “Listen up, princess—I’m going to see justice done, no matter what. That’s my job. Do you understand me?”

  “I understand,” she replied, nonplussed. Jedidiah Brown always got his man—or woman—and his efficiency did not bode well for her escape plans. Perhaps if she annoyed him enough, he might turn his back on her, and she could break away.

  “You don’t let yourself feel anything, do you, Marshal?” she jeered. “I’m just one more prisoner to bring in, one more fugitive retrieved to add to your impressive record. You don’t even care that I didn’t do it.”

  He stilled, and though she couldn’t see his face in the darkness, she knew she had hit her mark.

  “It’s not my job to judge,” he said softly.

  “I don’t much like your job, Marshal.”

  “You don’t have to like it,” he replied. “Now get up on this horse before the whole town wakes up. Or do you want Wayne Caldwell riding over here to see what the commotion is about?”

  Her next nasty remark died on her lips. As long as she was on her own, she would be easy prey for Wayne Caldwell and his brand of justice. But if she went with Jedidiah, she would be able to get beyond Wayne Caldwell’s reach. Then she could slip away from Jedidiah and go find Abigail Hawkins.

  Her chances of escaping Marshal Brown were very slim, but they were definitely better than her chances of surviving another encounter with Wayne Caldwell.

  Which meant she would have to change her game plan and go with Jedidiah after all. Surrender didn’t sit well with her, so she stuck her nose in the air and gave Jedidiah her best princess-to-peasant attitude. “And just how do you expect me to mount with handcuffs on?”

  Cupping his hands together, he drawled, “Luckily you have a gentleman on hand to assist you, ma’am.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion.” She grabbed the pommel with both hands and set her foot into his cupped palms. He boosted her easily into the saddle, as if she weighed no more than her carpetbag, and she tried to ignore the skip in her pulse.

  The man was a boor, she reminded herself, and brute strength often went hand in hand with boorishness. Then he guided her feet into the stirrups as gently as if they were made of glass, and a warm flush swept through her. She fought to hold onto her negative opinion of him.

  Jedidiah mounted his Palomino with fluid ease, then leaned over and caught the reins of her horse.

  “I am fully capable of managing my own mount, Marshal,” she said, annoyed that she wouldn’t be able to kick into a gallop and leave him in the dust.

  He chuckled. “I’m well aware of that—which is why I’ll be leading you until we get to Denver.”

  “Why couldn’t they have sent a stupid one?” she muttered beneath her breath.

  Jedidiah’s deep chuckle echoed off the buildings of the sleeping town as he led her out of Silver Flats and into the night.

  Silence reigned between them for hours as the first rosy fingers of dawn crept over the horizon. Several times Jedidiah looked behind him to make sure Susannah was still there. He had never known her to be so quiet. But there she was, calmly sitting astride her horse as if she were out for a leisurely Sunday ride instead of being escorted to a murder trial. He thought she was engrossed in her own thoughts, but then she lifted her gaze to his, and he was drawn to her despite himself.

  He pulled up a little and let her horse fall into step with his. Even at this early hour of the morning, the woman looked stunning. The pink glow of early dawn lent radiance to her peaches and cream complexion, and a certain softness that made her look like an angel. She wore her blonde hair loosely tied back from her face, but a few curls brushed her cheeks and brow in enticing disarray. Her china doll looks could make the harshest judge believe in her innocence, if not for the keen intelligence that lurked in her smoky blue eyes, and that stubborn line to her pouty mouth.

  She was a smart one all right, and had dressed for her escape in a sensible brown skirt and matching jacket over a white shirtwaist, with a wide-brimmed hat and brown kid boots. She arched one golden brow as Jedidiah continued to stare at her.

  “Something wrong, Marshal?”

  “Not a thing,” he answered with a grin. “I was just thinking how pretty you look today.”

  Her lips curved and a sly gleam came into her eyes. “Why thank you, Marshal. I must admit, you look quite handsome yourself.”

  He touched his hat brim. “Nice of you to say so.” He paused. “Yes, ma’am, I was just sitting here thinking how pretty you look—and how no one would ever figure you for a killer.”

  In the blink of an eye, her sweet smile changed to a furious scowl, and her eyes took on a chill that would have made the most vicious gunfighter fall back. No angel here—except perhaps the angel of vengeance.

  He laughed at her fury. “Yes indeed, unless you get that look on your face, a body would think you couldn’t even crush an ant without crying. Luckily, I know you better.”

  “You barely know me at all, Marshal,” she corrected tightly. “As I recall, we didn’t have enough time to get to know each other. You left Burr that morning without a word to anyone.”

  He tipped back his hat. “I’m a marshal, princess, and I had a prisoner in custody. I couldn’t stick around Wyoming Territory even if I had wanted to.”

  “A convenient excuse, Marshal. You didn’t even have the manners to say good-bye before you took off in the middle of the night.”

  “What’s the matter? Did you miss me?”

  She stiffened in the saddle. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sarah and Jack, however, were disappointed that you hadn’t stopped in to say good-bye.”

  “You didn’t miss me at all? Not even after that sweet kiss we shared?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, you know, all right,” he muttered. “But if you’ve got any ideas about working your wiles on me while you’re in custody, you can just forget them.”

  Her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened. “Marshal Brown, I thought no such thing!”

  “Didn’t you?” He pulled up, stopping both their mounts in the middle of the road, and leaned toward her “You use that beauty of yours to get your way the same way a gunfighter uses his gun. It’s not going to work on me, Susannah Calhoun, because I know how you are. Do we understand each other?”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “You don’t know how I am, Marshal,” she finally said quietly. “All my life people have overreacted to the way I look. Don’t condemn me for using a gift like that to my advantage. Everyone does it. It’s called survival.”

  “There’s more to you than your looks,” he scoffed. “You’re intelligent and resourceful, too, and don’t act like you don’t know it.”

  She looked as surprised as if he had just plucked the sun from the sky and handed it to her. “I wouldn’t dream of it
,” she finally whispered.

  “Good. Everyone else may underestimate you, but I don’t. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly,” she murmured.

  She looked almost vulnerable, but Susannah Calhoun was a consummate actress. He wouldn’t put it past her to try and lull him into a false sense of security with her lost little girl expression.

  Well, he wasn’t about to fall for that. He kicked the horses back into an easy trot, letting her mount fall into line behind his. Susannah was a stunning woman, there was no denying that, but she had gotten too used to manipulating other people with her looks. She had even tried it with him only moments ago, flattering him like a flirt at a country dance. She knew she was in more trouble than she could handle, but had she asked for his help? No. Had she told him there was a witness who might be able to clear her name? No.

  If she had simply asked for his help, sincerely and without any games, he would have told her that he planned all along to locate Abigail Hawkins and find out the truth. But instead she had alternately insulted him and cajoled him, never once just talking straight with him.

  If he were a different kind of man, he might be bedazzled by that siren’s face and body. But he was U.S. Marshal Jedidiah Brown, and he always moved on when the job was done—even though she haunted his dreams. No woman, not even one who looked like an angel and had the cunning of the devil, could keep him tied down.

  The sooner he cleared her name and got the hell away from her, the better it would be for both of them.

  He thought she was intelligent.

  Susannah stared blindly at Jedidiah’s back as he rode ahead. She had been complimented on her eyes, her hair, her complexion and her figure countless times, but never had anyone complimented her mind.

  Intelligent and resourceful, he had said.

  She placed a hand over her pounding heart and took a deep breath. This melting feeling could not be good. She had to get away from him to save her own neck—but all she wanted to do was get closer to this contradictory man.

  He was the same Jedidiah Brown who had been so rude to her last year in Wyoming Territory, she reminded herself. The same Jedidiah Brown who was escorting her to her execution, after making it clear that he didn’t believe in her innocence. Just because he was perceptive enough to see past her looks as no one else ever had, was no reason to get all excited.

  Yet all her life, she had been looking for a man who would see beyond the pretty face and care for the person she was inside. How ironic that she should find such a man here, now. Jedidiah was wrong for her in every way—but that didn’t stop her from wanting to explore this new attraction.

  She didn’t know how to approach him. Flirtatious smiles and coy glances didn’t work with this man. And she knew that he would doubt her sincerity if she tried to get to know him better, and maybe even break her heart in the process. The best thing to do was to stay away from him. Not only was he a distraction, but he had the power to hurt her as no man had ever had before.

  She had to escape as soon as she had the opportunity. No matter what it took.

  They stopped to eat at mid-afternoon and shared a simple meal of sandwiches and fruit in silence. Susannah could feel herself tiring. She had left the jail in the middle of the night, and they had ridden straight through the morning. Jedidiah, on the other hand, didn’t seem fatigued at all. He sat with his back to a rock, biting into an apple while scanning the area, his rifle across his lap.

  She studied him as she bit into her own apple. Even though she was irritated with him, she was also very much aware of him as a man. What was it about him that drew her so? He was attractive to be sure, but there were many attractive men in the world. Men who didn’t scramble her thinking or incite this disturbing push and pull of emotion. Yet it was Jedidiah who had lingered in her thoughts long after he had left Burr. And she was beginning to suspect he had lingered in her heart as well, despite her best efforts to dislodge him.

  He turned his head to look at her with those cool dark eyes that saw so much more than she intended, and her heart gave one, slow roll of yearning in her chest.

  Panic surged through her. She couldn’t start feeling this way again. Not here. Not now. She turned her gaze away and studied the distant mountains. She didn’t look back.

  When they were done eating, Jedidiah wordlessly cleaned up the camp so there was no evidence that anyone had ever been there. He once more helped Susannah to mount, and she felt that fluttering of her pulse again at his casual strength. This time she acknowledged it, and even allowed herself to enjoy the thrill, by reminding herself that after tomorrow, she would have left him far behind.

  They rode several more hours in silence. As the sun sank lower toward the horizon, Susannah drooped in her saddle. At this rate, she’d be in no condition to make her escape, only to sleep.

  Just when she was about to ask Jedidiah to stop, he pulled up, reaching out a hand to halt her horse as well. Just over the rise ahead of them, she spotted a wispy curl of smoke.

  “Looks like we’ve got company,” he said in a low tone. “Be ready.”

  “For what?”

  He sent her a cold-eyed glance that sent a trickle of fear through her. “If it’s Caldwell, be ready to run for your life.”

  “What would he be doing out here?” she asked, hating the apprehension that gripped her.

  “Looking for you.” He flipped her horse’s reins back over the paint’s head, giving her control of her mount. Then he slid his rifle out of the saddle holster and held it barrel down along the length of his leg. “Stay behind me. If there’s shooting, you run.”

  “I thought you were taking me to Denver,” she joked half-heartedly.

  “I am. But I’d like you to be alive when I do.” He pulled his hat low on his head and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Remember, stay behind me.”

  “No problem there, Marshal.” She clenched her fingers around the reins. As tempted as she was to bolt, she knew that if it was Caldwell up ahead, she was much safer with Jedidiah than on her own.

  He gave her a small smile, then set his horse to a slow amble over the rise. Susannah followed.

  As they came up over the hill, the source of the smoke became visible. A covered wagon sat at the side of the road, a couple of rabbits roasting on a spit over a fire. No one was in evidence.

  Susannah glanced at Jedidiah. His entire posture was tense with readiness, and she knew that he would give his life to defend hers. The knowledge added to the confusing mass of feelings that she had for Jedidiah Brown.

  How could a man be so hateful and yet so noble? How could he be so strong but so gentle, too? How could he be so uncaring of her innocence, yet be willing to protect her life, even if it meant sacrificing his? Jedidiah was like a chameleon who changed to adapt to any situation in which he found himself. No doubt that talent had kept him alive all these years, but keeping up with his changeable moods was driving her to distraction.

  A high-pitched giggle echoed around them, and Jedidiah’s head snapped toward the camp. A little girl ran from behind the wagon. A man chased after her, catching her up in his arms, making growling noises as he buried his face in her belly to her shrieks of laughter.

  “The Papa-monster’s got you, Lizzie!” He tickled her and made exaggerated chomping noises. “The Papa-monster loves little girls for supper!”

  Susannah watched Jedidiah’s posture relax as the little girl continued to giggle hysterically. A woman climbed out of the covered wagon, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Samuel, don’t you get her all churned up before supper,” the woman said. “Otherwise she won’t go to sleep when she’s supposed to!”

  “Aw, Maggie...” the man began. Then he caught sight of Jedidiah. He put the little girl on the ground and pushed her behind him. “Evening, folks,” he said to them, his expression wary.

  “Evening,” Jedidiah replied. “Sorry to intrude. We saw your fire. I’m U.S. Marshal Jedidiah Brown.” He pulled open
his duster so the man could see the star pinned to his chest.

  “Sam Ferguson,” the man said, visibly relaxing. “Can we help you with something, Marshal Brown?”

  “We were just looking for a place to stop for the night."

  “You’re welcome to bed down here if you want,” Ferguson said. “Would you care for some supper?”

  “That’s mighty kind of you.” Jedidiah doffed his hat and smiled at the man’s wife with all the charm of his Southern upbringing. “That is, if it’s not an imposition on your lovely wife.”

  The woman blushed. “Not at all, Marshal. Do set with us a spell.”

  “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” Jedidiah dismounted and grabbed the bridle of Susannah’s horse, leading them both forward.

  “That your missus?” Ferguson asked, staring at Susannah. The man’s eyes widened with admiration, and his mouth fell open. Mrs. Ferguson nervously smoothed her skirts and patted her hair. Little Lizzie came out from behind her father and ran up to Susannah’s horse.

  “Are you an angel?” she asked with wonder.

  Susannah smiled down at the child. “No, I’m Susannah.”

  Jedidiah glanced at the Fergusons with ill-concealed irritation. They’d never be able to keep Caldwell off their trail if every mother’s son in the state reacted like these people. The woman was too darned memorable! He had to do something.

  “She’s not my wife and she’s certainly no angel. She’s my prisoner,” he announced.

  Susannah flushed with mortification as he came over and made a show of helping her down off the horse. The clink of the handcuffs seemed to shake the family from their fog of admiration.

  “Hard to believe someone that pretty is a criminal, Marshal,” Ferguson said.

  “Believe me, looks can be deceiving,” Jedidiah said. “What we have here is the Black Widow of Barton Falls. She did away with three husbands, so if I were you, I’d keep the eating knives away from her.”