The Lawman

by Patricia Potter

  Archie stopped at the back of the shaft and tossed aside a large piece of oilcloth. Jared quickly counted five boxes.

  “Some of the dynamite is old,” Archie warned. “Detonators are farther back. So are the fuse lines. There’s two plungers.”

  “You know how to use them?”

  “Some.”

  Jared thought it was probably more than “some,” but he didn’t push it. He stooped beside the boxes, and the strain on his leg almost caused him to fall. Pain shot through him. He muttered a curse, then asked Archie, “Got a knife? I seem to remember you took mine.”

  Archie handed him one. Jared opened the box and looked at the sticks of dynamite. “These boxes are too heavy for our mounts to carry.”

  “Not for my mule,” Archie said. “She’s used to heavy loads, and I know how to pack them. I’ll walk alongside her.”

  Jared nodded. “I’ll take the detonators and plungers with me.”

  Jared was surprised at how nimble Archie could be. He quickly but carefully packed the dynamite, two boxes on each side of the mule, and one on top. If there was any fear in the old man, Jared didn’t see it.

  As for himself, he had plenty of fear. He didn’t like dynamite— especially aged dynamite—but placed strategically around town, it could make the difference between living and dying.

  Once they arrived back at the stable, Archie carefully untied the ropes holding the boxes, and Jared helped him lower the dynamite to the ground. Archie handed Jared a shovel and grabbed another from the back of the stables.

  Reese met them there. “All the guns and ammunition are distributed where you instructed.”

  Jared nodded and quickly explained what he wanted next. “We’ll bury the dynamite in two locations near the hotel. Also in the back in case they try to surround the building. When the first riders approach, we’ll set off the first round of dynamite in front of them. Let’s hope the horses panic and unseat at least several of the riders.”

  He looked directly at Reese. “If they persist, we’ll set off the second round. After that, we’ll use the remaining sticks. I don’t want them to get inside the saloon. Maybe by then they’ll decide Benson isn’t paying them enough.”

  “Jake and Ike can handle dynamite just fine,” Archie broke in. “So can Burley. Used to be a fair miner.”

  “Okay,” he said. He had come to trust Archie’s judgment. “We have two plungers to activate the detonators,” he said. “Mac Donald will take care of the first one. Jake the second from across the street. Once MacDonald’s plunger goes off, Burley should take it and rig the dynamite in back in case they decide to try to get in that way.”

  He didn’t have to explain any more. Reese and Burley took a load of dynamite to the back, and Archie and Jared started burying the sticks of dynamite in the road running by the saloon.

  Jared buried five before straightening up. Pain jabbed deeper in his leg, and he steadied himself on a shovel. He’d already abused his injury this day, and it was complaining like hell.

  Then he noticed Sam several feet away, on her knees. Her hands were dirty and a speck of dirt sat on the end of her nose. She was so intent on the task that she apparently didn’t notice him.

  She shouldn’t be messing with dynamite.

  But he’d learned something these past few days. Sam would always be in the midst of life’s battles. She would always be a rebel. It was who she was, and he…loved her for it.

  He put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with a lopsided grin. It was conspiratorial and confident. His fingers squeezed harder. How could he ever let her go, now that she had lodged herself in his heart? And how could he protect her, and still let her be Sam? How could he protect her—and MacDonald—without betraying a part of himself?

  “Almost done?” Archie’s querulous voice broke the silent bond between Sam and him.

  Jared shot him a look that had quelled many a lawbreaker, but Archie wasn’t fazed. The old man returned to digging holes, obviously expecting him to do the same. When they were finished, Jared attached the detonators under Archie’s watchful eyes, and they ran the fuses into the saloon and attached them to the plunger. Then they started on the second set twenty feet south of the first.

  He looked at the positioning of the dynamite again. Close. Really too close to the hotel. But Jared had only a few shooters and they needed to make every shot count. They couldn’t afford to let the riders scatter. They needed them startled and contained in the middle of the street, close enough that every one of the defenders’ bullets would count.

  Now it would be a waiting game. He judged they had a day unless Benson’s men were able to locate dynamite faster, and knew how to use it.

  They should have a few hours’ warning, but he wanted someone at the edge of town just in case something went wrong.

  The rest of them could relax for a few hours. Rifles and handguns were loaded and placed where they should be. The dynamite was set. There was nothing else to do but wait.

  “I’ll scrounge something to eat,” Sam said.

  She never stopped. Most women would be needing comfort. Protection. Sam took care of herself and those she loved. She had fear. He’d seen it in her eyes. But she never let it slow her down.

  Dammit, he loved her. Loved that quirky smile, and her sense of humor and the way she assaulted life. He loved the way she loved. Without condition. He loved the passion in her, and the loyalty. He hadn’t understood it before, but seeing her with MacDonald, he now did. There was an unbreakable bond between the two of them. The man hadn’t been pretending when he offered to go out there. He’d meant to do it. He still did. Jared saw it in his eyes.

  They ate in silence. Bread and jam and cheese. Bacon. Beans. Three tins of canned peaches divided among the five of them. MacDonald ate lightly, and Jared could tell he was still in pain.

  “You should get some rest,” he said. “Archie, too. I’ll take the first watch down the road, then Archie can take over in four hours. Then Reese. Fire two shots if you see anything that shouldn’t be there.”

  “I can take my turn,” MacDonald said.

  “No,” Jared said sharply. “You can barely move as it is, and we need you to get as much rest as you can for tomorrow.”

  Brief rebellion flashed in Mac’s eyes, then disappeared, but Jared didn’t think it had died. Still, the man needed help going up and down the steps. Jared took his own rifle and limped over to the livery to get his horse. He used a mounting block to ease himself into the saddle. Then he rode to the edge of town and stopped on a small rise where he could see the road that led to the pass. He dismounted and found a smooth boulder to sit on.

  Not likely anyone could break through, and less likely that Jake or Ike wouldn’t give adequate warning. But he needed to get away from the saloon, and Sam, and MacDonald. He needed to think.

  The rain had stopped and the sky had opened. The first few stars of evening were glowing in a darkening sky. It was good to get out of that stifling room, to have his hand free. But now he longed to hold Sam with both arms. His conscience battled his heart. He’d found himself liking MacDonald. It was ironic after so many years of making the man the target of his anger.

  Not exactly the man Jared thought he’d been hunting all these years. He knew he could clear Mac of the murder charges now. No question. But the others…

  It was still his job to take him in.

  And break Sam’s heart.

  He suddenly felt something cold and wet against his hand. He looked behind him and saw Dawg. Then Sam. Her smile was tentative, as if she was unsure whether she was welcome. He reached up and took her hand in his and pulled her down next to him.

  They were quiet for a moment. He simply drank in her presence. There was always challenge in her, but there was peace, too. Her hand was small in his, belying her strength.

  He released it and put his arm around her. Then both arms, and he held her tight. He couldn’t endure it if anything happened to her, if that light insid
e her died.

  “I wish you were out of this,” he said.

  “I—”

  She was stopped by his lips. He knew what she was going to say. I can take care of myself.

  There was an easy companionship between them. It had been there before in bits and pieces. The electricity was still there, too. Raw and vital and sizzling. “I can take care of myself,” she said again, “but I need you.” It was an admission he thought she would never make.

  God help him, he needed her, too.

  He pulled her to him, and her body arched against his. He pushed down her britches as she fumbled with his gun belt. Her shirt went next along with his pants and what was left of his long johns. She looked up at him and in the twilight her eyes were brilliant. Then they were on the damp grass.

  The stars and moon glowed above them as they loved. Quietly and intensely. Even desperately. He didn’t know what was going to happen in the next few days. And neither did she.

  His hands moved over her, teasing, loving, caressing. Her body was soft and yielding against him, and he was only aware of the reality of her closeness, of the pleasure it gave him. Her body arched against his, and he was seized with elation and happiness. It faded quickly as he looked in her eyes, trusting and wondering, because their future was so uncertain.

  But still he held her against him, not wanting to let her go. Touching. Feeling.

  The fragility of their situation made every sensation more precious. Raw physical desire was still there, yet he had a fierce need to give rather than receive, and he savored the sound of her heartbeat, the taste of her, the gentle friction of skin against skin….

  Sam relished the feel of his arms. Nothing else mattered at the moment. Her breath was gone, caught somewhere between her heart and throat as she looked into his eyes. They weren’t cold or hard or distant now, but turbulent with want and need. Every nerve in her body seemed to purr, then he entered her slowly, deliberately, gliding in and out with rhythmic perfection. “Jared,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with need.

  His mouth covered hers as she caught his rhythm, and their bodies engaged in a primitive dance, her belly moving instinctively in circular motions, drawing him farther and farther inside. His strokes increased in power until she was riding a crest of a great wave, a giant force that swept her to the height of pleasure until she thought she could endure no more.

  He gave one last drive that seemed to rock her entire being, and when she cried out in climax, he withdrew quickly and collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in rapid gasps.

  He turned then on his side, holding her close as her body continued to quiver with aftershocks.

  Jared put his arm around her. This was madness. Though they were on the farside of the hill from the ghost town, someone could come riding by. He had no doubt how Reese or Archie or MacDonald would feel about this. God knew they had enough problems without him complicating things.

  He’d pulled out of her in time and he ached from that restraint. But he couldn’t risk planting his seed in her until they had resolved things between them. Yet if he stayed like this…her head on his heart, her body radiating warmth…

  He sat up, still holding her. Her body was damp from the moist ground, but the night was warm. He dressed her. Slowly. Gently.

  “You should go,” he said softly. “You need sleep.”

  “I want to stay with you.”

  “You’ll be missed,” he said. “I don’t think now is the time for explanations.” He softened the words with a kiss that moved from her nose to her lips.

  “I…love you.” She looked at him with that great earnestness that never failed to both touch and amuse him. She seemed surprised by her own declaration.

  He closed his eyes. He had no illusions about what they faced. They were badly outnumbered. She was frightened for Mac Donald. For all of them. When it was all over…

  “Go,” he whispered.

  “You love me, too,” she said.

  He fought a smile. “Go.”

  And she did. Dawg looked at him for a moment, then, wagging his tail, he followed. But damn if Dawg hadn’t looked like he was grinning.

  SAM’S BODY HUMMED as she walked back to the saloon. She turned and looked at Jared, his silent form alert. Like a sentinel. And her heart wanted to burst with love.

  Her body still quivered from the intensity of the sensations that had racked her body and the emotions that savaged her heart. She had given him everything she had tonight, including her trust.

  Fear had heightened those sensations. Fear for all of them, but watching him now, she felt a new confidence. She remembered the efficiency with which he directed the planting of the dynamite. Everyone, even Reese, had followed directions without question.

  And Mac…she had seen the changes in him as he talked to Mac. Jared was no longer the lawman or prosecutor. There had been a certain acceptance between the two men.

  But could Jared give up being a marshal…?

  18

  SAM HAD JUST FINISHED preparing breakfast when they heard an explosion.

  All of them rushed to the door, Mac being the last. Smoke was coming up from the pass.

  Dynamite. The posse had gotten it faster than they’d hoped.

  She met Jared’s eyes. She’d been avoiding him this morning, afraid that her godfathers would see something different in her. In them. If they did, they didn’t say anything.

  Minutes later, Ike came tearing down the road on his horse. “We have mebbe thirty minutes,” he said. “Someone knew how to use dynamite. Placed the charges just right. They’re clearing a path now. Jake’s started another rock slide but ain’t nothing like the first.”

  “Come inside the saloon,” Jared said. “Someone get Burley.” He led the way and Reese fell in beside him. Archie veered off toward the stable. Minutes later Jared had everyone in the saloon, including MacDonald and Sam.

  He wished like hell he could hide her away. His eyes met hers, and she shook her head. She knew exactly what he was thinking. When did that happen?

  He forced himself to focus on the battle ahead.

  “They expect a lone marshal and wounded outlaw,” he said. “They don’t expect an army, so we’re going to give them an army. They want easy money. I want to make it very hard. I want guns propped up in every window we have. I want dynamite going off in different places. I want confusion. They have to believe they’re outnumbered or, at least, that we have the defensive advantage.”

  He looked at Ike. “Ike, you take the stable across the street, and when Jake gets here, he should take the hayloft. You’re also in charge of setting off the second round of dynamite. MacDonald is responsible for the first. Once the dynamite goes off, move from opening to opening. Make every shot count.” He turned to Burley. “You watch the back. Once the first charges go off, you come get the plunger from MacDonald, take it to the back and rig the fuses. Archie will show you how.”

  Burley straightened. “Ain’t no need for that. I was a miner.” He looked at his hands. “They be steady now. I haven’t had a drink in weeks.”

  Jared nodded. He had to trust Burley, just like he had to trust the rest of his ragtail gang of outlaws and misfits. He looked around. “We’ll have to change positions. Reese, Sam and MacDonald at the saloon. MacDonald can use the rifle after he sets off the dynamite. Reese will move from window to window.” He looked at Sam. “Sam, you just keep the weapons loaded. Don’t get in the windows.” It was the best he could think of to keep her safe. Or safer. But he saw the rebellion in her eyes. He ignored it for a moment. “If they get too close, throw the sticks of dynamite. That will make them damn wary.”

  “What about you?” Reese asked.

  “I’ll try to talk to them again when they ride in,” he said. “I’ll give them a chance to leave. If they see enough rifles poking out of windows…”

  “No,” Samantha said. “They’ll gun you down.”

  “You gave them their chance,” Ike protested.

&nb
sp; MacDonald stood. He swayed slightly. “There isn’t going to be a gunfight. I’m going to ride out to meet them. There’s no sense in you all dying. Rope’s waiting for me, anyway.”

  “No!” Sam said.

  MacDonald’s eyes gentled. “Ah, darlin’ girl, I should have sent you away a long time ago. I was damned selfish.”

  “MacDonald’s not going anywhere,” Jared said harshly. “I don’t give in to vigilantes or hired guns.” He fixed his gaze on the man, then Samantha. “We’re wasting time. Any more questions?”

  No one said anything.

  Reese went upstairs.

  MacDonald had remained seated in a chair. He turned and looked out the window.

  Jared limped over to Sam. He brought her chin up with his finger. “I wish you would go to one of the mine shafts.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then promise me to be careful. Keep your head down and load the guns. If things go bad, do you have a place to hide?”

  She nodded, but he didn’t believe her. She would be there to the end. Again he thought about grabbing her and cuffing her to the bed in the makeshift cell, but then she would be helpless if the gunfighters somehow got inside.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “For what?”

  “Not giving up Mac. For trusting me.”

  His fingers ran up her face. “If anything happened to you…”

  “Then it would be my decision,” she said. “This is where I want to be. Where I have to be.”

  “I know.” And he did. If anything happened to her, he didn’t know whether he could live with himself. But if he didn’t include her, he would destroy something inside her.

  He leaned down and kissed her. He didn’t care if Mac watched, or anyone else. Her arms went around his neck and she stood on tiptoes and kissed him back. Hard. Fervently. Then she let go and ran upstairs. Her scent remained with him, as did her touch.

  MacDonald started to say something, but a rifle shot stopped him. Reese was warning them.