A Sheriff's Passion

by Michelle Beattie

  He tried to shrug off the feeling but it clung, like the last colors of dusk that hung in purple and orange wisps over the Gallatin Range.

  Annoyed and frustrated, Shane marched down the boardwalk, slapped open one of the saloon’s swinging doors and strode inside. If he hadn’t been grumbling to himself about brothers and women and the disruption they put in a man’s life, he might have noticed the lack of horses tied out front. Might have noticed that the very man he was irritated with wasn’t even there to keep an eye on. Nobody was.

  Nobody except Silver.

  She was at one of the tables, half a deck of cards stacked into the four different suits before her and the other half in her hand. This afternoon she’d been dressed prettily in a skirt and blouse, a demure hat pinned over her upswept hair. Tonight, while most of her golden hair remained upswept, an alluring thick coil of it curled over her right shoulder and rested on the mound of her breast. A breast that was pushed high and full due to the corset she wore.

  Silver didn’t always wear a corset but when she did... He swallowed the drool before it slipped from his lips.

  He didn’t know a lick about fashion, but the deep blue dress she wore was stunning and even though she was sitting, he could see it fitted her to perfection. Although the cut of the bodice and the ivory lace that circled beneath her breasts should have been against the law. It brought far too much attention to her bosom.

  Being alone with Silver in the daylight had already proved hazardous, but at dusk, in her empty saloon with nothing but the soft glow of the oil lamps hanging over the tables and lighting the bar? With her dressed in a way sure to bring a man to his knees? With her honey-colored eyes fixed on him as though daring him to make a move?

  Hell, he’d rather face a posse unarmed. Surely he’d stand a better chance of survival.

  “Silver,” he acknowledged.

  “Shane.”

  “Quiet night.”

  “Hmm.” She shifted her attention to her game, counted out three cards and set them face up. She took the top one, an eight of hearts, placed it onto the growing pile of hearts before her.

  Well, apparently she wasn’t going to make this any easier.

  “Is Bruce not working?” he asked, referring to the large man she hired as much to keep the peace as to help tend bar when it was busy.

  “I didn’t anticipate a busy night. It’s just me.”

  Just her. He swallowed. “Has Mitch been in?”

  She spared him a quick glance. “Not yet.”

  Yet. Clearly she expected him. Was that the reason for the enticing gown, the seductive way she’d worn her hair? The cards? Moving further into the saloon, he smelled the hint of lavender she’d scented herself with. He didn’t fool himself into thinking she’d dressed up and added perfume for his benefit. Knowing didn’t improve his mood.

  But as Mitch wasn’t there, Shane considered going back home. He hadn’t gone to the boardinghouse to see if his brother was back from the Triple P; he’d just assumed, with Wade and Jillian’s new baby, Mitch wouldn’t overstay his welcome. Then, knowing his brother wasn’t the sort to sit in his room and read, Shane had figured he’d come here, try to work more of his charm on Silver. But perhaps Mitch had decided to go to Grey’s.

  Hell, Shane hadn’t thought to look at Grey’s first.

  But he was here now and despite Silver’s unexpected kiss this afternoon, despite the knots that still twisted his belly because of it, she remained his friend and it would be both rude and cowardly to turn tail now. Three weeks ago he’d never have even considered walking out without visiting and he shouldn’t now.

  “Can I trouble you for a drink?”

  “Of course, it is a saloon after all.” She set down her cards, scraped her chair back and rose to her feet. “The usual?”

  “Please.”

  Her skirt was narrow but it didn’t slow her down. She was behind the gleaming bar in short order. With efficiency born from years of practice, she drew a glass and bottle, poured the amber liquid.

  Knowing this distance between them was his doing and he needed to mend it he added, “Will you join me?”

  She paused, looked at him. Her eyes softened a little. Without saying a word, she lifted another glass and splashed some whiskey into it. He was at the bar when she turned from replacing the bottle and grabbed the two glasses before she could.

  “I’ve got them.”

  Gesturing for her to go ahead, Shane followed Silver to the table. What magic the corset spun on the front of her dress continued on the back, cinching in her waist and emphasizing the curve of her hips. The small bustle drew attention to her round bottom. Not that he needed any help in that regard.

  He set the drinks down and held her chair for her.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Not comfortable with his back to the door, Shane took the chair adjacent Silver’s, sipped his whiskey as he watched Silver move more cards around. Other than the snap of cards, the saloon was silent as a tomb. Giggling and squealing carried over from Grey’s balcony. Hearing the sounds and knowing what it would lead to did not help Shane’s discomfort. He was already far too aware of the woman beside him, the creamy swell of her breasts and the taste of her lips.

  He scooted his chair closer to the table.

  Because it was far too intimate sitting alone with her while the sounds of a brothel filled the room, Shane grappled for something to say.

  “Sure is quiet in here tonight,” he commented.

  “Mmm. I figured after the picnic yesterday, folks would have had their fun for a day or so.” More laughter floated over from across the street. “Well, most folks,” she amended as color rose up her neck.

  Knowing the sounds coming from Grey’s were affecting her as well did nothing to lessen the heat warming his blood.

  “You’re not drinking,” he noted.

  “I will; I’m just not thirsty yet.” Then suddenly she turned her toffee-colored eyes on him. “The way you once described Mitch to me I imagined a ne’er-do-well down on his luck, dressed in tattered clothes and needing a bath. I recognized him right away as your kin but when he introduced himself as Mitch and not Logan, you could have knocked me down with a feather.” She tilted her head. “He’s not anywhere near the ne’er-do-well you painted him to be.”

  No, on the surface Mitch didn’t appear to be. But then his father hadn’t looked the part either. And while today had brought some fond memories of his and Mitch’s childhood, while he’d enjoyed his brother’s company, it didn’t change who Mitch was. He’d never let anything stick to him and his choice of profession was a perfect example. They’d struggled so much at home just to have enough to eat, why wouldn’t Mitch choose a path that guaranteed he wouldn’t once again have to go hungry? Wouldn’t have to worry about not having a roof over his head? About armed men coming to his house, scaring the daylights out of him while demanding money he didn’t have?

  Was that why Mitch was in town? Was he was running from men he owed money to? If Mitch brought trouble to his town after all...

  But then if Mitch were running would he stroll around a picnic, stay right in town, and go for a leisurely horseback ride? Oh, hell, with his brother’s lackadaisical style anything was possible.

  “Mitch isn’t all bad,” Shane agreed. And despite Mitch’s earlier words that he did take things seriously, that hadn’t been Shane’s experience growing up. “But when he left here he was dressed in tattered clothes and did need a bath.”

  Silver frowned. “Then why are you not proud that he’s made something of his life? Instead it’s as though you condemn him for it.”

  “Because he built that life with ill-gotten gains.”

  She went perfectly still. “What do you mean by ill-gotten? He steals? Cheats?”

  “Neither.” Shane shook his head. “Or not that I know of. But it’s not as though he earns his money either.”

  “If he doesn’t cheat then how is it ill-
gotten?”

  “Because gambling at a table is not the same as putting in an honest day’s work.”

  Silver looked him dead in the eye. “Your meaning of work, in other words.”

  Well, that didn’t sit well with him. It made him sound pompous, which he sure as hell wasn’t. He tried another way.

  “There’s no respectability to gambling, Silver. You know that.”

  Like a fuse being lit he saw her eyes change. Anger sparked and flashed and he braced because he knew from experience Silver’s fuse was short.

  “What I know, Shane McCall, is that you have no tolerance for anything that doesn’t suit your idea of ‘respectability’.”

  She always called him by his full name when she was riled. Well, she wasn’t the only one who was upset. He was getting tired of her implying he was arrogant.

  Shane leaned forward. “It’s not just me who thinks—”

  He choked back the rest of his words when the doors swung open and Mitch strolled in. His brother didn’t miss a trick. He looked from Shane to Silver, quirked a brow. There could be no doubt by their scowls and the tension hanging in the air that he’d caught them arguing.

  Despite that his lips curved. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No,” Silver answered. She picked up her drink, drank the contents in one long swallow and slammed the glass down. “You’re right on time.”

  Thankfully Mitch’s arrival was soon followed by more and Silver had an excuse to get away from Shane. Oh, he made her angry! Why did he find it so difficult to accept a way of life that wasn’t his own? Why couldn’t he understand that some people just needed to find their own way? And maybe that way wasn’t what they’d wanted or hoped for growing up, and maybe they, too, wished life could have been kinder to them. But surely getting up each morning determined to be the best they could be deserved respect.

  Maybe Shane didn’t know everything about her, but he knew who she was at heart. Why wasn’t that good enough?

  She thumped three glasses on a tray, poured bourbon into them, and marched the drinks over to the front of the saloon. She really needed to stop letting Shane get to her, but then it wasn’t as though she went out of her way to get into his. Earlier she’d been minding her own business walking and picking flowers when he’d happened upon her and tonight she’d been in her own saloon when he’d arrived. Her gaze swung to the table he shared with Mitch. Her eyes narrowed. Could she lawfully refuse a sheriff entrance into her saloon?

  Pocketing the coins for the drinks, Silver took her tray and was heading back to the bar when in walked Bill Collins. Bill owned the stable and while he came in every Friday night with some of the other merchants in town, he’d never been nice toward Silver. Not since she’d finally gotten tired of refusing his advances, taken the shotgun from behind the bar, and threatened to blow off his penis if he didn’t start treating her with respect.

  It had taken a few weeks until, still red-faced, he’d dared walk into her saloon again. He’d never apologized nor was he friendly when he came in. But he didn’t manhandle nor talk crudely the way he used to. Normally she merely tolerated him. Tonight, she was happy to see him.

  “Bill!” she exclaimed and nearly laughed out loud when he jumped guiltily.

  “What?” he grumbled.

  “There’s someone I want you to meet.” Then, leading the way she stopped at Mitch’s side. She determinedly kept her eyes on him and not his brother.

  “Mitch McCall,” she began, deliberately using his last name, “I’d like you to meet Bill Collins. Bill owns the stable, but more importantly he and some of his friends have a friendly game of poker every Friday night. I thought maybe they’d let you join them.”

  With a wide grin, she faced Bill. “Mitch happens to be a gambler.”

  “McCall, you say?”

  Bill looked from Mitch to Shane and despite the difference in facial expressions—Mitch was smiling while Shane was scowling—there was no doubt he knew the men were brothers. Laughter roared from his throat.

  “Well, if that don’t beat all,” he managed. His wide chest shaking with mirth, he extended a hand to Mitch. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Game starts at seven; you’re more than welcome to join us.”

  “I’ll be here,” Mitch answered.

  “That your dun colored gelding in my stable? My hand said it was some visitor’s horse.”

  Mitch leaned back in his chair, idly holding his glass. “It’s mine. I paid to have Ace kept for the week.”

  “That’s what he tells me. Well”—Bill looked around the saloon—“I don’t suppose you’ve seen Robert tonight?”

  Robert Hill was another friend of Bill’s and he was in charge of the telegraph and mail in Marietta. Like Bill, Robert usually only came in on Fridays.

  “What you see here are the only customers I’ve had this evening,” Silver answered. “He wasn’t home?” As Robert lived in town, it wouldn’t have been difficult to check.

  “If he was would I be here asking?” Bill snarled.

  “Easy, Bill, she was just asking a question,” Shane’s tone might have been calm but the look he gave Bill spoke loudly.

  While Silver was more than capable of defending herself, the woman in her nevertheless appreciated a man coming to her defense. And it was gestures such as these that made Shane likeable despite how he crawled under her skin.

  “Have you tried Grey’s?” she asked. Of all Bill’s friends, Robert was the only one who didn’t have a wife that forbade him from frequenting Grey’s.

  “No, but I guess I’ll do that next.”

  “Is there a problem?” Shane asked.

  “Probably not.” Bill sighed. “His horse isn’t eating; I just wanted to let him know.”

  “Isn’t Wade’s wife a vet? Why don’t you fetch her?” Mitch asked.

  Most of the town had come to accept Jillian in the two years she’d been in Marietta, including Steven Garvey who was not only the town’s mayor, but owner of the feed mill and Bill’s best friend. Steven had led a charge to try to scare Jillian out of town and it had taken having his mill burned down and nearly losing his son before he came to his senses. Since then most of the others in town had come to accept Jillian as the town’s vet. Bill wasn’t among them.

  “I ain’t fetching her,” Bill grumbled. “That’ll be up to Robert.” Then with a last nod to Mitch and Shane, Bill stalked from the saloon.

  “Friendly, isn’t he?” Mitch asked.

  “Bill and those friends of his you’re going to play poker with on Friday,” Shane began with a pointed look at Mitch, “made Jillian’s life hell when she moved here. It was mostly pranks meant to scare her off and they didn’t take to my dogging their every move to get them to stop.”

  “Couldn’t you arrest them?”

  “Sure, if I’d have had proof, but they all denied it. I made them each pay a fine and apologize to Jillian after it was all over.”

  “Your shadowing them finally convinced them to stop?”

  Shane sipped from his drink. “Unfortunately nothing so simple. One of them, a man named Harvey Black, burned down the feed mill then snatched Jillian at gunpoint. He’d have killed her had Wade not gotten to her in time.”

  Mitch whistled long and low. “That must have been some scary for Wade and Jillian.”

  “It was, but thankfully it worked out and that was the start of Jillian’s acceptance. Unfortunately, there are still a few who don’t think a woman ought to be a vet.” Shane leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s the kind of men you’ll be playing with.”

  Mitch swirled the liquid in his glass, took a sip. “Which will make taking their money even sweeter.”

  “You’re still going to play with them? Even after what I just told you?”

  “I’m not after being their friend, Shane, but their money is as good as anyone else’s. Better, considering what they did to Wade’s wife.”

  “That’s exactly how I feel when I have to s
erve them. Part of me wants to throw them out the door but then I realize how much they loathe giving me their money.” Silver shrugged, smiled. “Makes it worthwhile.”

  Mitch reached for Silver’s hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Silver, you’re a woman after my own heart.”

  Even knowing he likely did it as much to charm her as to annoy Shane, it nevertheless felt good to have a man unashamed to show her affection in public. Besides, she was still in the mood to annoy Shane.

  “Why, thank you, kind sir,” Silver said as she eased her hand from Mitch’s hold.

  “Oh, God, don’t encourage him,” Shane muttered.

  “He’s just jealous, Silver. He doesn’t have the way with women I do.”

  Silver laughed. “I’m not sure anybody does.”

  Mitch winked, finished his drink, and held the empty glass out to Silver. “If it’s not too much bother.”

  “Of course not.” She added her own empty glass to the tray, returned to the bar while Mitch gathered her abandoned cards and started shuffling. Knowing she wouldn’t drink any more that night, as she rarely did when she was working and when she did she stopped at one, Silver put her dirty glass in a basin under the bar then refilled Mitch’s.

  She carried Mitch’s drink over, resumed her seat.

  “You didn’t bring one for Shane?” Mitch asked.

  “He never has more than one,” she supplied.

  Anyone who knew Shane well knew he didn’t drink more than that.

  “Is that so?” Mitch asked.

  “Some of us learn a lesson from our past,” Shane answered. Then he asked a question of his own. “So, you’re staying a week?”

  Mitch hitched a shoulder. “For a start. I haven’t decided yet if it’ll be longer than that. Is there a problem with my being here?”

  “Not as long as you don’t bring trouble.”

  “I have better things to do than that.” Mitch grinned, his eyes on Silver.

  Silver caught the way Shane’s features hardened. His eyes darkened, the lips that had kissed her breathless flattened into a hard line. What did Shane expect? Did he want her to pine for him the rest of her life? Even though it surprised her he hadn’t taken his relationship with Melissa any further than he had, Silver believed it was only a matter of time until he did. And then there wouldn’t even be a stolen kiss for her to hope for as she knew Shane to be an honorable man and once he chose a bride, he’d be faithful.