by Megan Besing
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you’ve never robbed a bank.”
He guffawed. “Never. I ain’t been perfect, but I ain’t done nothin’ to warrant a prison stint, neither.”
She gaped.
“Is that so strange?”
Jolie swallowed. “Where I come from, it is. My brother’s done nothing but harm all his life.”
Firelight and deep shadows couldn’t mask the concern in his blue eyes. “What’s that mean?”
Her fingers strayed to the knot left when her arm had healed after Brand broke it during her childhood. “Never you mind. I’ve said more than enough.” She folded her arms, the pistol still tightly gripped in her fist. “You asked to talk. So talk.”
A grin crossed Mr. Adler’s pleasant face, and he nodded. “All right. I obviously ain’t tied up anymore.” When Jolie tried to break in, he held up a silencing hand. “Don’t know how, but a straight razor got left near my hand.” He produced it and held it out of her reach.
Jaw clenched, Jolie grabbed for the covered blade.
“Uh-uh.” He tucked it in his pocket again. “Figure God’s givin’ me a chance to clear my name, but I also don’t want to mess up your future, so how ’bout come mornin’, you help me clear my name, and once that’s finished, we’ll see the judge about an annulment. Deal?”
“How on earth am I supposed to help clear your name?”
“I can’t move about town with the marshals searchin’ for me. You can go places I can’t, like the newspaper office.”
“The newspaper office?” Was he daft?
“Yes, ma’am. To buy articles pertainin’ to the robbery. Might be some clues there.”
He might have a point…and the element of surprise wasn’t on her side this time. She’d likely have a harder time getting him tied up a second time, even if she had a rope.
She nodded. “Deal.”
He crammed his hands in his pockets. “Thank you. Now iffen you’d like, I’ll get my roan so you can have that saddle blanket and catch some shut-eye. Closer to daylight, you can spell me. Sound like a workable plan, pardner?”
She considered, unsure. “As long as you promise to be a gentleman.”
“Keep that peashooter handy, iffen you want, but so you know, my momma raised me right. I don’t know how to be anythin’ but.”
Thoughts warring, she agreed. “Fine.”
He stalked into the darkness.
Blast him. That perfect gentleman was making it near impossible to keep her guard up.
Del awakened, groggy, and blinked heavily. Recalling where he was, he bolted into a sitting position.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Miss Hilliard crouched near the campfire with two prickly pear pads impaled on a stick. She held them over the flames, twisting the stick to roast the opposite side.
“What’re you doin’?” Del blinked away sleep.
“I was hungry, so I found some prickly pear.”
Del faced her, realizing she’d draped the saddle blanket over him as he slept. “You know which plants are edible?”
“Don’t you?” She shot him a teasing grin.
Was this the same little gal as the night before? She’d been all business. This one bordered on good-humored. “Reckon I could figure it out.”
She pulled the stick from the flame and, inspecting the cactus, scraped away the spines with—
“Where’d you get that razor?” Del felt his pocket.
Miss Hilliard flashed him a less-than-innocent grin.
His laughter bubbled. “You wicked woman.”
“Hardly.” Her smile faded as she removed the cactus spines. “I know far too much about being wicked, Mr. Adler. Fortunately for you, my momma raised me right.” Her words echoed his but dripped sadness.
“Is your momma still ali—”
At Miss Hilliard’s glare, his question stalled.
Standing, he folded the blanket. Lord, I hunted her down like You said. Reckon it’s up to You to get her talkin’. Since the moment he’d set out to get his horse back, the good Lord had spoken.
“Watch over her. Let no harm befall her.”
He’d argued, but God won that wrestling match. “Please, ma’am. Would you do me two favors?”
“What are they?”
“One, you call me Del, and I’ll call you Jolie. It’ll simplify matters.”
“Fine. And…?”
“Two, you know I got the marshals breathin’ down my neck. Could be arrested, maybe hung, iffen I’m caught.”
Her fine features softened. “I’m aware.”
“I need to know what type o’ trouble you’re facin’.”
“I’m not facing any—”
Del raised a silencing hand. “Mr. Lovell’s letter said your brother’s caused you trouble. Whatever you’re runnin’ from has caused you to advertise yourself as a mail-order bride.” Jolie’s face went ashen, and for once, she made no sharp-tongued retort.
“Iffen we’re to get through this, I need to know. Who’s your brother, and what’s he capable of?”
She laid aside the stick and the razor and cupped her face in her hands.
His heart seized. Lord, I don’t mean to cause her pain. Instinct told him to gather her in his arms, but he dared not. “Jolie?”
She drew a shuddering breath. “His name is Brand. Brand Hilliard. You’ve likely read newspaper articles about him but under the name of Brent Hill.”
Del’s mouth fell open. “You’re Brent Hill’s sister?” The outlaw and his gang were well known across the Southwest, suspected of several brutal murders and robberies—not a one of ’em solved.
Hands covering her mouth, she nodded.
That explains things, doesn’t it, Lord? I’m to protect her from him.
“Last night, I thought you were him coming to retrieve me.” Fear etched her face. “By now, he’ll have figured out I’m not coming home, but I have no idea whether…or when…he’ll guess where I’ve gone. Mr. Lovell and I were to marry, spend one night in the Meribah hotel, and take the stage out of town. With my name changed because of the marriage, we thought I’d finally break free of his abuses and his bad reputation.”
“Reckon I put a fly in that ointment.” He exhaled. “I can’t apologize to you enough, ma’am.”
Her fear and shame were almost palpable.
Unable to stop himself, he strode up and pulled her to her feet. “Jolie, you have my word I’ll make this right. Until I can, I’ll protect you from that scoundrel.” He tipped her chin up until her ice-blue eyes collided with his. “Understand?”
Without warning, she collapsed into his arms with a sob. “Thank you.”
Chapter 6
Jolie sat behind Del as they rode back to Meribah, hands at his waist. He’d been so kind. So…safe. It had felt very right being in his arms, so much that she had to resist the urge to lean close and rest her cheek against his strong back. Del was not her intended, and cuddling close to him would give Frank good reason to be upset, should he find out. As if melting into Del’s arms in camp wasn’t reason enough. If it weren’t for this big…kindhearted…handsome…lug, she’d already be Mrs. Frank Lovell. Except that Frank hadn’t shown up.
However, trying to focus on either fact was nearly impossible when Del’s nearness, the tender way he’d comforted her…the heart-pounding memory of their kiss during their sham wedding kept battering her thoughts. Lord, I waited until twenty-six for my first kiss. I’m afraid my first has ruined me for any to follow. Her cheeks warmed.
She willed the shameful thought—and the desire to kiss Del Adler again—from her mind. What a fool.
“You asked about my mother.” The turn of conversation would free her mind from this rut. “I’m all but sure she’s dead.”
Del halted the roan. After an instant, he shifted his weight to one stirrup and twisted to look at her. “All but sure?”
She looked away and nodded.
“Missy, you’d best explain how you don’t know.”
> The plan had worked. Any vestige of romantic feelings fled, replaced by a knot in her belly. “I think my brother murdered her.”
“Lord God Almighty above.” He cast a glance heavenward then dismounted and helped her down. “What happened?”
The concern in his gaze was too great. Too foreign. She focused on a button on his shirt. “Ma always said she and Pa fell in love the moment they met, and she loved him so fiercely, she wouldn’t marry again after he died. She did her best raising me and Brand, but Brand had a fearsome mean streak. By the time I was six and he was ten, he’d fallen in with a bad lot, doing illegal things.”
She glanced up, and the compassion in his eyes nearly undid her. “I suspect Brand threatened her…or me, maybe. As much as she hated them, Ma let Brand’s friends move in. She cooked for ’em, lied when the law came around. When I was fourteen, Brand and Ma argued. I never saw them fight so bad. Ma always sent me to the barn when they argued, but when dark fell and she hadn’t come for me, I ventured into the house.” She closed her eyes. “Ma wasn’t there, and Brand backed me in a corner. I’ll never forget what he said to me. ‘Fix us something to eat, you stupid, good-for-nothin’ little mouse.’ ” Jolie shuddered. “When I asked why Ma wasn’t cooking, Brand said she was…not coming back.” Finding a shred of courage, she met his eyes again. “Ma was a God-fearing woman. She wouldn’t’ve left me. Not if she had a choice.”
Del pulled her to his broad chest, his arms circling her frame. “Why didn’t you run?” There in his arms, she felt nothing could harm her. “I did. Many times. Brand always dragged me back. I fought him as best I could, but I eventually quit trying. There was too high a price.”
He held her at arm’s length. “You mean—” The question stalled in his throat as a mixture of horror and anger filled his eyes. “Did he put his hands on you?”
“Plenty of times. He broke my arm when we were kids, and that was just the start.”
He gaped. “They didn’t try to—”
“One tried—once.” Thank God she’d kept the Peacemaker close when she saw them drinking heavily that night. “I shot him.”
A stuttering breath escaped Del’s chest. “Dead?”
“No. He survived…barely.” She squared her shoulders. “They never tried that again, but they beat me. Kept me locked in a room some of the time.” She spoke the words slowly.
He cupped her cheek in his palm and pulled her close again. “I’m so sorry. How’d you survive all these years?”
Jolie drank in the shelter of his arms, the warmth of his calloused hand caressing her cheek. “I did what they told me and prayed like Ma taught. I knew God would rescue me if I’d wait for Him, and I eventually decided to advertise myself as a mail-order bride. That’s when Frank’s letter arrived, and God said it was time.” She pulled back and smoothed her dress. “So the sooner we clear your name, the sooner I can get on with God’s plan for my life.”
Del swallowed hard. “You’re right.”
Who was he to argue with God?
Except that God had told him to let no harm befall her, and after all she’d been through, the thought of her marrying some stranger stuck in his craw. Iffen she was his sister, he’d forbid such a union. But she wasn’t, and he shouldn’t assume he could hear God’s will for her better than she could. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
Elsewise, he might share his thoughts about her getting hitched to Lovell. Or his crazy notion of her marrying him instead. God had told him to protect her, after all…but iffen he’d forbid his sisters from marrying except for love, surely they’d withhold their blessing from him marrying for convenience. Besides, Jolie didn’t have to be his wife for him to protect her.
Why then, dad-gum it, was he struggling to put the idea out of his mind?
He strode to the roan and beckoned to Jolie. She came, and he lifted her into the saddle and took the place behind her. He took the reins and clucked his tongue.
As they rode, his mind clicked through all that had happened. He’d come to Arizona Territory to deliver horses to a fella who’d bought ’em on a trip through Colorado the month before. That business landed him in Meribah the day the bank was robbed.
He’d been arrested, tried, and convicted—railroaded—within days then sent to Yuma. Only God provided him an escape while traveling there, and he ran back to Meribah on the day Jolie Hilliard was to marry Frank Lovell.
“What kind of clues do you think you’ll find in the newspaper articles?”
Del shook free of his thoughts. “Ain’t rightly sure.” He rubbed his thumb against the bare place where his ring normally sat. “Maybe somethin’ about that banker’s ring.”
“How will that help clear your name?”
“I wear a ring.” He wiggled his finger in her view. “When the sheriff arrested me, he took it. Said I lifted it off the dead bank owner during the robbery. Only I was never in that bank.”
“What type of ring?”
“Pa’s West Point ring. It has the school’s symbol on the top, and Pa’s name engraved inside. He wore it until illness took him when I was eleven. Once I was grown, Ma passed it to me. Didn’t leave my finger till I came to Meribah.”
Jolie glanced back, sunlight highlighting her fair skin. “They couldn’t ask the banker’s widow to identify the ring?”
His gaze wandered over her thick auburn curls. Loose tendrils brushed what looked to be silky-soft skin. She was a handsome woma—
“Del?”
Those were downright perilous thoughts. He had no right…. She was promised to another man, and besides, he’d only known her since the previous afternoon. “Wasn’t married. No kin in town, neither. During the trial, they called the jeweler that made the ring. He vouched it was the same one.”
She grunted. “Convenient. Was that the only evidence they provided?”
“That, and the fact I’m tall with blond hair and light eyes.”
Jolie loosed a sardonic laugh. “That could describe any number of men in Meribah. Gracious, it could fit a third of Brand’s gang, for that matter.”
Del stiffened.
Startled, she glanced back. “I assure you, they weren’t involved.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, but how can you know?”
“Brand broke his leg over a month ago. He’s able to hobble some now, but the gang’s been lying low while he’s healing.”
Del exhaled heavily. “That’s too bad.”
“About his leg?”
“Hardly.” If even half of what she claimed about Brent Hill was true, he and his gang should rot in hell. “Too bad it wasn’t him that robbed the bank. We coulda cleared my name and got your brother and his gang arrested in one. Give you back your life…”
“I can’t imagine living without the fear of Brand and his men.” A touch of wonder etched her voice.
They cleared the last hills and settled into the valley, headed toward Meribah. Lord, that ain’t right, Jolie livin’ in fear. I’ll do what I can to protect her like You said, but…once we clear my name and see that judge, she’ll marry Lovell.
The thought set his teeth on edge.
Chapter 7
I’ll go to the newspaper office and collect any articles about the robbery.” Jolie stared toward Meribah, about a quarter-mile ahead.
“Then bring ’em to me so’s we can read ’em.”
“Should I talk to the jeweler, too?”
Del shook his head. “Not now. Iffen we ask too many pointed questions, we’ll draw attention.”
The same thought had crossed her mind. “Will you be waiting here, or…?” The dusty landscape provided no place to hide from the marshals.
“Once you’re in town, I’ll head to the livery.” His timid smile warmed her. “You helpin’ me means a lot, Jolie.”
“We’re helping each other, remember?”
Del caught her arm as she turned. “Please…be careful.”
“I will.”
Before she turned away, he cupped her
face in his hands and leaned in, lips hovering near hers. Jolie’s heart pounded as he lingered then finally tipped her head to plant a firm kiss on her forehead. He took one big step backward and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “Keep your eyes open.”
Disappointment weaved through her, though she chided herself. Fool. “Don’t worry. Where Brand is concerned, I’m always alert.”
Only with Del around, her senses were dulling, her mind wandering where it shouldn’t go. She smoothed her dress and turned.
“Wanna take the gun?”
Was he stalling? She looked back. “I fear I’ll be more conspicuous carrying that satchel.” She pulled the razor from her pocket. “This’ll be enough.”
She marched into Meribah. The streets weren’t busy, and no one paid her any mind. Just how she wanted it. Hand fisted around the razor in her pocket, she meandered down the boardwalk toward the newspaper office two blocks beyond the livery. After she’d scanned for any sign of Brand or his men, she entered the office.
A small gent with oil-slicked hair, spectacles, and brown pants approached the long counter separating his work space from the waiting area. “How can I help you?”
“Do you keep copies of your past editions?”
“We do.” He pointed to the cabinets lining the walls. “We’ve got copies back to six years ago.”
“Oh, goodness. I don’t need anything that old.” She smiled, trying to ease the tension in her muscles.
“What might you be looking for?”
“I heard there was a bank robbery a few weeks ago.”
His eyes widened. “Yes, there was.”
Jolie shrugged sheepishly. “I was looking for articles on that event. My brother likes reading about such things.” It wasn’t an untruth. Brand read articles on various crimes, though Lord willing, she’d never see him again.
“I’ve got copies of those editions. Three papers. Five cents apiece.” While he retrieved the newspapers, Jolie glanced outside. Sure no one was watching, she knelt and unpinned the hem of her dress where she’d stashed some money. Since her mother’s disappearance, Jolie had pilfered small amounts of cash from Brand and sewed or pinned the money into the hems and linings of her clothing so he wouldn’t catch on.
