Table of Contents
Title Page
The Lawman’s Betrayal
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Praise for Sandi Hampton
“The plot [of SAMANTHA’S SACRIFICE] was well developed, the sensuality was dynamic, and the emotional baggage each carried around made this a great book. The ending was definitely a shock. Ms. Hampton did a great job of well developing all the areas that make a best seller. Overall this was a fabulous book.”
~The Romance Studio
~*~
“The description of the land, to the characters, all the way to the food cooking, can be experienced by the reader [in LAST CHANCE FOR LOVE]. I love the romantic chemistry that shines in this story. The dialogue really delivers. I was completely captivated by the romantic story that Sandi Hampton pens.”
~Coffee Time Romance
~*~
“Have you ever picked up a book and for whatever reason it just worked for you? [WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT] was one of those for me. The wild west, rugged lawmen and heroines who are strong and sexy. Ms. Hampton pulled all these elements together in this wonderful tale and left me with a smile on my face and a good feeling in my heart.”
~Seriously Reviewed
~*~
“Sandi Hampton pens a sweet story with characters who epitomize the best and the worst of the post Civil War western USA...[THE OUTLAW’S DAUGHTER] is fresh and fast moving with a bit of suspense at just the right time to keep us guessing about the outcome.”
~The Romance Studio
The Lawman’s Betrayal
by
Sandi Hampton
Lawmen and Outlaws Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Lawman’s Betrayal
COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Sandi Hampton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Debbie Taylor
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Cactus Rose Edition, 2014
Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-604-0
Lawmen and Outlaws Series
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
Dedicated to the two new men in my life—
my great grandsons;
Caleb, 18 months, and Damian, 15 months
Chapter One
Bright rays of sunlight led Naomi Brecker forward. The click of her shoes echoed down the narrow hallway, reminding her of a runaway train. Clickedly, clack, clickedly, clack. As she neared the ominous, closed door, her heart rose in her throat. Three days ago, Warden Campbell had notified her she’d been pardoned by the governor, and he awaited receipt of her final papers. Now, since he’d sent for her again, she could only hope he’d received them. Yet, she was afraid to face him for fear something had happened to prevent it.
“Sit here,” the guard ordered. With a glare at her, he pointed at the wood bench across from the door. “I’ll be right back.” He opened the door and disappeared inside.
Naomi took a deep breath and gathered her courage, what little bit she could muster. She couldn’t face this prison, and her tiny cell, any longer, yet she was also afraid of what the outside world held for her. Most, if not all, of her friends had believed she’d done the unspeakable and had deserted her. She faced the future alone. At the thought, a shudder raced down her spine.
It seemed like an eternity until the guard returned, but in actuality, it was only a few minutes.
“The warden will see you now.”
As Naomi shoved herself to her feet, her knees threatened to buckle under her. Her hands trembled as she opened the door. The tall, white-haired man behind the desk stood. With a nod of his head, he motioned her toward the chair in front of the ornate mahogany desk. She perched on the edge of the seat, clutching her hands together to hide the tremors.
The warden set a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose, picked up a file, and leafed through the papers. “Well, Mrs. Brecker, I’ve received your pardon papers from the governor’s office. They appear to be in order.”
Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “That’s wonderful, Warden.”
“Let’s take a look at your file.”
She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. There should be nothing in her file to prevent or delay her release, but until she walked out the gates of this prison a free woman, she couldn’t rest easy. The warden continued to inspect her file as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever read. The urge to scream at him to get on with it surfaced, but she bit down on her lips. Angry words would serve no purpose.
A slight movement by the fireplace caught her attention. A man stood there, watching. Condemnation sat on the stern line of his lips. She fidgeted under the piercing stare.
She turned her attention back to the warden who was still engrossed in her file. After a few moments, she sneaked a peek at the other man. He was a handsome devil, tall and rangy, but broad-shouldered and powerful. From this distance, his eyes appeared to be blue, longish coal black hair curling over his collar. A thin scar sliced through his right eyebrow and down his cheek. A shadow of a beard darkened a jaw that looked as hard as granite. In black pants, blue shirt, and black vest, he looked the typical cowboy, but, instinctively, she knew he wasn’t. Even though he didn’t speak, his presence filled the room. From the confident set of his shoulders, she could tell he was a man used to being in charge. The tied-down gun on his thigh told her he could back it up. He turned slightly, and she saw it.
The badge.
The tin star.
Butterflies churned in her stomach. Why was he here? Did it have something to do with her? With her pardon? She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands, then winced.
At that moment, Warden Campbell cleared his throat. Naomi whirled to face him, almost falling out of her chair.
“Well, Mrs. Brecker, I see you’ve been a model prisoner. There’s no record of any trouble or incidents.” He peered at her over the wire rim of his spectacles. “Very good. I wish more of the inmates were like you.”
He paused, seeming to expect a response, so she nodded. “Thank you, Warden.”
“I’m sure that contributed to the governor’s decision. Now that you’ve paid your debt to society for your crime—”
“I’ve committed no crime, sir.”
His lips pursed into a frown. “Well, the jury felt that you did—they convicted you.”
A thousand angry words ran through her mind, but again she bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at him. Losing her temper would serve no purpose. What he said was true—she had indeed been tried and sentenced for a horrendous crime. So she merely nodded. “Yessir, th
ey did, but they were wrong.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “What are your plans?”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Why, I plan to return to Gila Bend of course. My home is there.”
“I understand, but do you think that’s a good idea? Of course, it’s your decision, Mrs. Brecker, but you may not find yourself very welcome back there. Your husband had a lot of enemies in that area. Do you have somewhere else to go? Do you perchance have any relatives back east?”
Naomi clenched her hands into fists, again reminding herself it would do no good to protest her innocence. She would return to Gila Bend and find the sonofabitch who’d killed her husband and his alleged mistress and framed her. Whatever it took, no matter who she had to face or fight, she was going home. Her need for revenge would see her through. “There is no one, but thank you for your concern. I’ll be fine.” She rose to her feet. “Am I, am I…free? Can I go now?”
He rose and tossed her file on the desk. “Yes, you’re free to go. Is someone meeting you?”
“No.”
“I’m afraid the supply wagon has already left. As you know, it only stops here every other week.”
A groan slipped out before she could stop it. “Perhaps I can rent a wagon, or buy a horse.”
“Do you have any money to do that?”
She heard the hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I believe I had some money when I first came here.” She notched her chin up. “Do I get it back?”
The bushy eyebrows lifted. “Well, let’s see.” He picked up her file. After a moment, he nodded. “Yes, there was some money, and a few personal belongings. I’ll have the guard fetch them for you.” With those words, he left the room.
Alone with the silent, hard-eyed lawman, she dared a glance at him.
And found him staring at her.
Squirming under his scrutiny and unable to stand there any longer, Naomi walked over to the window. From here, she could see prisoners in the exercise yard. She also had a clear view of all the buildings, including the fences and high walls that had held her prisoner for three years. A lump rose in her throat, almost choking her.
From behind her, footsteps sounded, and she sensed him by her side. His commanding presence, as well as his sheer size, intimated her. He stood four or five inches over six feet, towering over her five foot six inch frame.
And his eyes were blue.
A very icy blue—and fringed by eyelashes so thick a woman would die for them.
But with a hint of…interest?
She inched away, very much aware of her plain appearance and ugly prison garb. Just being in the same room with him made her stomach churn.
“Nice day,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, yes, it is.”
“Since the Warden didn’t introduce us, I’ll have to introduce myself. I’m Wes Cooper. U.S. Marshal Wes Cooper.”
“Marshal,” she acknowledged, “I’m—”
“Naomi Brecker. I know. Or should I say Barker?”
The insolent way he said her name brought a heated flush to her face. She glared at him. “It’s Brecker. I’ve heard of you, too. They say you’re a fast gun, and you always get your man—dead or alive.” She lifted her chin in a challenge. “And you don’t care which way it is.”
A muscle clenched along his jaw, and she knew she’d hit a raw spot. A smug smile touched her lips.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” he retorted, his voice cold and hard. “I read about you in the newspaper,” he continued. “Most interesting article.”
“You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the paper.”
“Touché.” He grinned and arched a dark eyebrow at her.
“Well, I’m glad you found it such exciting reading, Marshal.” With conscious effort, she laced her voice with sarcasm. “I can’t say I feel the same.” His scent, that of soap and tobacco, circled around her—like a noose. She took another small step away from him.
He chuckled, jerking her attention back to him.
“Why are you laughing? I see nothing to laugh about.”
“Oh, no reason. It’s just that you seem awful nervous.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m just anxious to get out of here. That’s all.” She tucked a stray wisp of hair back into its confining chignon.
“Tell me, Mrs. Brecker, were you aware that your husband, Roy Barker, was one of Arizona’s most wanted outlaws? The newspaper said you denied any knowledge or involvement in the crimes your husband’s gang committed.”
Stars swirled before her eyes. She grabbed the window sill to steady herself. “I don’t wish to talk about this, Marshal. My trial is over. I’m not guilty of anything. Besides, as you just heard, I’ve been pardoned.” She turned her back to him. “Now would you please leave me alone?”
“The article also said he had a mistress, you found out, and that’s why you killed him—and her.”
She whirled to face him, her hand, as if by its own volition, rising to strike him. He grabbed her wrist in an iron grip.
“Now, now, Mrs. Brecker. Assaulting an officer of the law could put you right back behind bars.” He smiled at her, a smile without humor.
“Oh, how dare you. You, you…you’re despicable.” She pulled her hand free. “Stay away from me.”
The door opened, and the warden entered the room. She’d never been so glad to see him before. She returned to stand at his desk.
“All right, Mrs. Brecker, here’s your money and your personal property. Please check and make sure everything is accounted for.”
He held out a valise and an envelope. Although she wanted to count the money, she stuck the envelope in the pocket of her skirt. “Thank you, Warden. I’m sure everything is there. I’ll be leaving now.”
“I wish you the best of luck, Mrs. Brecker.”
“Thank you.” She scurried to the door. She could hardly wait to get out of this office—away from the cold blue eyes. She told herself to get used to the censure. Since everyone in Gila Bend thought her guilty, she would probably be ostracized. Her so-called friends had disappeared at her trial.
But if she could survive three years of prison, she could survive anything.
She slammed the door behind her.
***
Wes Cooper laughed aloud as the door slammed.
“Well, what do you think, Wes?” The warden pulled a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from his desk drawer. He splashed amber liquid into the glass and handed it to Wes. “What’s your impression of Naomi Brecker?”
“Well, she’s definitely not what I expected.” Wes lowered his big frame into the chair. “I expected someone older—and harder. She’s young, kind of pretty. With her hair all pulled back, you could see the strain on her face. Although you couldn’t really tell under that horrible dress you make these women wear, she has a nice womanly figure, a mite on the skinny side. I liked the color of her hair, like warm honey. I liked the dark green color of her eyes. I don’t know what it was about her eyes, but they looked kind of empty…vulnerable maybe. She sure didn’t seem to be a killer.” And even if she were, the idea of tracking a woman left a bad taste in his mouth, but it was part of the job.
“Yeah, I feel the same way. Definitely not the murderess type. She’s always come across as a real lady, well-mannered, educated. Very genteel. She’s got that air about her, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, but real ladies don’t murder people or condone robbing and killing.” For a moment, Wes wondered what had prompted this lady to kill. Killing a man wasn’t easy, even for him, a man of the law. What had caused her to step over the line?
“I guess not. She’s always sworn that she was innocent.” The warden’s lips curled into a half smile. “But then, everyone here proclaims their innocence.”
“Yeah.” Wes chuckled as he rubbed his jaw. “I imagine so. Did she ever have any visitors?”
“I don’t think so.” The warden picked up the file and studied it. He shook his head. “Nope. No
t a soul.”
“What about mail? She ever write any letters?”
“No.”
“Did she ever receive any letters?”
“No.”
“Hmmm. Kind of strange. You’d think some relative would have come to visit or written her in three years. You sure about that?”
“Yes. We log in all visitors and open all the inmates’ mail before we give it to them. Maybe her family, if she’s got one, disowned her. Maybe they were too ashamed to have anything to do with her.”
“That could be. Still…I would have thought…but I’ve been wrong before.” Wes sipped his whiskey, then scrubbed his hand across his lips. She might protest her innocence, but her family and friends had evidently written her off as guilty. “Was she close friends with any of the other inmates? Ever talk much to anyone in particular?”
“Not that I know of. Not any one more than another. From what the guards say, she mostly stayed to herself.” The warden snapped the file shut.
“Not much to go on, Paul.”
“Sorry. The governor seems to think you can take care of this.”
“I’ll give it my best.” Wes raised his glass to the warden. “I must say you do serve a good glass of whiskey, Paul.”
“It’s my reward to myself for taking this miserable job out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“So tell me about this assignment.” Wes held his glass out, and Paul refilled it. “I thought Jake Burleson was supposed to take it.”
“He was, but he got himself killed trying to bring in Johnny Miller.”
Wes grimaced. “Hadn’t heard that. Jake was a good man.”
“Yeah, he was. Leaves a wife and three kids, too. Damned shame. Do you remember that robbery over at Fort Jameson? Where the military payroll and a couple of wagons of rifles and ammunition were stolen?”
“Yeah, I remember. From what I heard, they must have had an inside person. It was all too easy.”
“You’re right. One of the enlisted men finally came forward and admitted to helping Roy Barker’s gang steal the guns. For a price, of course. Then, a couple of months ago, some of those rifles surfaced in the hands of some renegade Indians. Stirred up considerable public outcry. The governor wants those guns found and soon. He thinks Mrs. Brecker may know where they are. Your job is to follow her and find them.”
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