The Lawman's Bride (Harlequin Historical Series)

by Cheryl St. John

  Clay led her away from the cacophony of talk, laughter and instruments. As the door closed behind them, the sound was muted. Sophie walked a few feet away from the building.

  Clay followed. “You gonna be all right? I could take you home.”

  “No. No, I want to stay. I can’t leave Amanda.”

  “Okay.”

  She touched her fingers to her temple. “It’s probably just the heat.”

  Clay stepped close and brushed her hand aside to gently massage her temples with his fingertips. She let her eyes drift shut and sighed, and the sound shot straight to his loins. Sophie’s scent and nearness drove him mad. He’d begun spending too many of his minutes away from her thinking on the meager minutes they were together. “You can’t feel poorly. We have plans for tomorrow.”

  “I am looking forward to riding,” she said.

  “Hall’s a mite crowded and stuffy tonight.”

  “Yes.” She rested her hand on his shirtfront as comfortable as you please, and her touch was gratifying.

  “Worried about your friend?” he asked, and let his hands drop to her shoulders.

  She nodded. She could tell him right now. Just blurt out the truth and be done with it. He’d arrest Garrett and Amanda would be safe. He would arrest her, too, though. And he’d lose respect for her—a respect she didn’t deserve anyway—and he’d never look at her with admiration or longing again. She’d spend the rest of her life in jail sorting regrets.

  “I could take a ride to Florence,” he said. “Look through their papers. I’ve been thinkin’ on it anyway.”

  The thought panicked her. “There’s no crime to being older than her now, is there?” she asked. “I’m just being a worrywart.”

  “Thinkin’ of those selfish men again,” he teased.

  “And you always know what I’m thinking. You have anything lurking in your past?” she asked, keeping her tone light.

  “Like an extra ten years?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I told you all about me. Not much else to know.”

  “You’re an open book, are you?”

  “Would I be more appealin’ if I had secrets?”

  She didn’t answer. Everyone had secrets.

  “That must be a yes.”

  “It’s a definite no. I’m just being ladylike and not saying what I really think.”

  “Sparin’ my feelings?”

  “Your ego.”

  He chuckled, then thought a minute. “Never laughed much before I knew you.”

  Clay wanted to wrap her in his arms and not let go. He liked the way she felt against him, loved her lilac scent and her soft skin. Kissing her was a pleasure he could get used to. Having feelings for her wasn’t something he’d anticipated, but the feelings, and the desire, were there all the same. Now that he’d admitted to himself that he wanted her, he had to know how she felt about him.

  She returned his kisses with tender passion. Sometimes she looked at him in such a way that made his stomach weak. In the park she’d seemed to be fulfilling a desire by initiating their kisses. He’d be glad to fulfill her desires any old time. He wouldn’t fool himself by denying he was falling fast and hard for this woman who was still such a riddle.

  “Never known anyone like you, Sophie. You seem wise, yet you’re young and unsure ’bout a lot of things. Other things you have your mind made right up.”

  “Are you going to kiss me or talk me to death? I have a curfew, you know.”

  Her question prompted another laugh. He could definitely get used to this women askin’ for his kisses.

  He pulled her close, and if her sighs were any indication, both their desires were fulfilled with an eager melding of their lips. Sophie clutched the fabric of his shirt and held him close.

  A loud gunshot startled them both. He released her, immediately pushed her behind him and drew his .45.

  Shouts and the sound of a scuffle came from the front of the building. “Stay here!”

  He dashed toward the noise. Two men were grappling in the street, their hands on each other’s throats. Clay ran closer and spotted a gun several feet away both men were trying to reach. He grabbed the pistol and fired his .45 into the air.

  Behind Clay the door to the Social Hall had opened and people were spilling out to see what was going on.

  “On your feet, both of you,” he ordered.

  One of the young men took a last swing at the other, scrambling to stand as Clay jerked him back by the collar. “What the hell’s going on here?”

  “Son of a bitch not only wore my shirt, he danced with my girl.”

  Clay recognized them as hands from a nearby ranch. James Duffy wiped blood from his mouth with his sleeve.

  “Which one of you fired the gun?”

  “That was Lumpy. Damned fool. He coulda shot my foot off,” James said.

  “You two are gonna settle this peaceful-like or I’m gonna have to take you to the jail. You wouldn’t like it there, so you might as well make peace.”

  A young redhead in a frilly blue dress slipped in and sidled up to Duffy. “Are you all right? Lumpy didn’t mean any harm. He was only bein’ friendly.”

  “Too friendly from where I was standin’.”

  The two men eyed each other warily, and after talking quietly the couple announced they were leaving.

  “You can get your gun at the jail tomorrow,” Clay told Lumpy.

  Lumpy brushed the dust from his clothing with his hat and headed back inside the hall, probably to set his sights on someone else’s girl.

  Men and women chattered among themselves as they crowded through the doorway and reentered the well-lit building.

  Clay hung back, watching to make sure the cowboy and his girl were gone. Sophie met up with him.

  “Sorry you saw that,” he told her. “Behavior more fittin’ a saloon.”

  “Their behavior doesn’t reflect on you,” she replied.

  They faced each other. He slid his .45 back into its holster and tucked Lumpy’s pistol into his waistband.

  “I have work to do,” he told her with regret.

  “I suppose you have important marshal duties even on Saturday night.”

  “Always somethin’. Only Owen and me are unmarried men. I don’t cotton much to the saloons, so it’s never mattered. I’ve always stopped by the Social Hall to greet a few people and that’s been good enough.” He glanced at the light spilling from the noisy building. “Maybe it’s time to change that.”

  “Change your work schedule?” Sophie asked.

  “Only if you think you’d want to spend some Saturday evenin’s together. Don’t wanna be pushy.”

  “You’re not pushy, Clay.”

  But she didn’t say she liked the idea. The other day he’d been considering how unfulfilling their time together always seemed. She didn’t seem averse to his attention or his company, though she always held something back. “Well, guess I’ll be movin’ on. Evenin’.”

  “Good evening.”

  At the corner he looked back. She’d gone inside. There was so much left unspoken between them. They talked, but he never felt as though they communicated.

  Tomorrow he’d see her again. Another chance to learn more about her. Clay shook his head at his boyish enthusiasm. He wouldn’t get his hopes up, but he wanted to know everything about Sophie Hollis.

  With her jaw set in exasperation, Sophie observed Garrett the rest of the evening. She didn’t have to wonder what he was up to. She knew he was up to no good. Period.

  When he returned Amanda to the benches and came toward Sophie, it was all she could do to not flinch.

  “Would you honor me with a dance, Miss Hollis?” Garret’s tone sounded innocent as could be.

  Sophie turned her surprised glance on her friend, and Amanda nodded with a smile. “Go ahead, Sophie.”

  “I’m tired,” she objected.

  “Oh, go on,” Emma said and gave her a little push from behind.

  She followed,
but didn’t take the hand he offered. She faced him on the dance floor, his eyes boring into hers, that smirk at the corner of his narrow lips telling her he knew how much control he could still wield over her with a mere look. It was like watching a snake that could strike any moment, and she didn’t dare look away. Insidious memories cut away the present, blotted out the music and the people until she was fourteen years old again. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and her head felt light.

  You would be cooking scrawny rabbits over a fire and suckling a squalling brat. If I hadn’t fostered you, you’d be living with a mangy trapper who beat you over every small offense.

  His gaze was like a touch that made her skin crawl. You should be grateful you’ve been spared all that. Grateful you’re not down on Tucker Street, selling yourself to every drunk who comes through the doors with two bits.

  I haven’t taught you everything yet. There is more…much, much more….

  Chapter Eleven

  It became apparent that others were starting to look at her odd reaction to the man. She reminded herself that all that darkness was in the past. She was her own person now. She made her own choices. So, Sophie steeled herself and took his hand, allowed him to rest his touch on her back and quelled a shudder.

  He’d touched her too much in her lifetime.

  “You belong to me,” he said in that superior tone she recognized with the parts of her she’d tried to bury. “I own you, body and soul. Did you think you could get away?”

  “I have.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Gabriella. I made you who you are. You’re a perfect extension of me.”

  “I want nothing to do with you.”

  “A display of bravado might impress someone else, but this is me you’re talking to, remember? I fed you, clothed you, taught you everything you know. You are indebted to me with your life.”

  Sophie had never wanted to hurt anyone, but if she had a weapon she feared she could kill this man without a second thought. Her body was rigid with loathing.

  “And—you have something that belongs to me.”

  “I told you I don’t have it.”

  His grip on her hand became painful. “Where is the money?”

  She wanted to wince and pull away, but she’d be damned if she’d let him see the pain. “It’s gone.”

  “Gone where? You haven’t bought an estate or fled to Europe. You have nothing to show to account for that much money.”

  “I paid it back.”

  His step faltered. “You what?”

  “I found as many of the people we’d conned as I could and I paid them back. Not nearly all the money, of course, and not all the people, but a nice little dent on the debt.”

  He stopped his movements in the middle of the dance floor, his grip crushing her hand. He’d always controlled her with subtle threats and manipulation, his true temperament hidden for the most part. This burst of fury revealed his true nature, and she took a gratifying measure of delight from being the one to peel away his malicious composure. Couples on either side cast them curious glances.

  “You stupid, stupid little bitch,” he hissed, pulling her against him and leading her back into the steps of the dance. “What did you hope to gain from a move like that?”

  “A small part of my self-respect,” she replied.

  “And what did it get you? Nothing but my ire. You will pay for this. One way or another, you will pay.”

  “I owe you nothing. You don’t control me anymore.”

  “What do you think you’re going to do?” he asked, leaning away and smearing a look of contempt over her. “You might have a few people fooled, but you’re still the same person. No other man is going to want you or marry you after the things you’ve done with me. You can’t give those sins away like you did my money, now can you?”

  Dirty and used was how he always made her feel. “Leave me alone. Leave Amanda alone. Go away or I’ll turn myself in to implicate you.”

  He barked a laugh. “You wouldn’t. You’d want to die before being locked in a cell for the rest of your life. Before letting your marshal know whose bed you’ve occupied.”

  Sophie cringed at those words.

  “You are a whore,” he said matter-of-factly, his voice low enough for only her ears. “Bought and paid for at quite an excessive price, but a whore all the same.”

  She pulled away, shame and anger scorching her cheeks, pounding in her chest. She stared at the face she hated, the man she detested with every fiber of her being.

  He took her arm and led her toward the side of the room. “Come to your senses, Gabriella. There’s still time to make amends and ingratiate yourself into my good graces before anyone gets hurt.”

  “If you hurt Amanda, I will kill you.”

  “Come now, I don’t hurt women, as you well know. I treat women well. Spoil them, actually. That’s what’s wrong with you.” Then his tone changed. “Marshals are another matter altogether. Lawmen are killed in shootings everyday. A small coin buys a big gun in a town like this.”

  Panic threatened to take control of her, but she tamped it down and tugged from his hold. “I know too much about you. You’d never get away with it.”

  “You’re right about knowing too much,” he answered. “And don’t forget it. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt right now. You’re still an asset. Trust me, Gabriella. You don’t want to become a liability.”

  He turned and threaded his way through the crowd.

  His threat had done what he’d intended. She had so many words in her head she could barely hear her heart anymore. Sophie dropped onto a bench and covered her ears with both hands.

  You’re a whore, a whore, a whore.

  You don’t want to become a liability.

  You’re a whore.

  No other man is going to want you or marry you after the things you’ve done. You’re still the same person…a whore.

  “Are you all right, Sophie?” Emma touched her shoulder.

  Her insides were shaking and she felt as if she had to throw up. Sophie raised her head and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Fine.”

  Emma studied her curiously.

  “Really. I was just thinking.”

  She stayed where she was, her thoughts a turmoil, her supper turning over in her stomach. She spotted Rosie with Robbie. Across the room, Louis Tripp was watching the couple as well. Sophie looked for Amanda and found her on the outskirts of the dance floor with Garrett. Sophie wasn’t taking her eyes off them for an instant.

  At a little before eleven Amanda came to her. “Monte is taking me home now.”

  “You’re going straight to the boardinghouse.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I’ll ride along with you. I’m ready to leave.”

  Garrett’s expression was unreadable when she showed up with Amanda. He was either pleased that she was falling into his setup by coming along to protect her friend or he was angry that he wouldn’t be alone with Amanda. Or both, she figured. There was no way she was leaving Amanda alone with him.

  The young woman chattered all the way to the Arcade, effectively covering up the quivering animosity between Sophie and Garrett, and Sophie was relieved Amanda didn’t notice anything.

  Why should she? She was trusting and goodhearted. She’d never anticipate someone deliberately using her.

  Sophie felt Garrett’s eyes on her while he helped Amanda down. Sophie had jumped out of the opposite side of the carriage and now stood waiting.

  “Thank you for your company this evening,” he said to Amanda. Seeing his hands on Amanda made Sophie shudder. She wanted to run over and kick him where it would hurt his grandchildren. “You’re a wonderful dancer and a delightful companion,” he added.

  “Thank you,” Amanda replied breathlessly.

  “A pleasure to see you, Miss Hollis.”

  Sophie took her elbow and steered Amanda toward the front door of the dormitory.

  “Ouch!” Amanda pulled away. “What
’s your hurry?”

  Sophie determinedly led her inside.

  “Did you notice how he paid attention to me all evening?” Amanda asked. “Dancing with him was, oh it was divine. I’m so grateful for your lessons. He likes me, and he’s complimentary. He couldn’t be more of a gentleman.”

  Once inside, Sophie waved Amanda up the stairs. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water.”

  Amanda gathered her skirts and cheerfully ascended the steps. She hummed and the sweet tune floated from the upstairs hallway. “Did you notice the looks we were receiving as we danced?” she called.

  Several minutes later Sophie poured water into the basin they shared. The pitcher and bowl stood on a stand behind a folding screen. Amanda had removed her dress, shoes and stockings and padded behind the screen carrying her white cotton nightgown.

  “Dixie Peterson was green with envy, could you tell?”

  When Sophie spoke she tried to keep her tone casual. “Mr. Morgan’s quite a bit older than you.”

  “Isn’t maturity refreshing?” Amanda replied. “He’s not stumbling over his feet or acting all awkward.”

  “However…he must be all of forty.”

  There was a long pause before Amanda said, “Sophie, you were the one who said an older man is established and knows what he wants. He’s probably looking for a special person to share the things he’s acquired? Sound familiar?”

  Sophie distractedly checked her gloves for spots and tucked them into her bureau drawer. Garrett knew what he wanted all right, but he was looking for someone he could use to get it for him. “How much do you actually know about the man? I don’t think you know enough.”

  “I’ve just been telling you.” Amanda came from behind the screen tying a white satin bow at her neck. “He’s dashing and polite and confident.” She paused in listing perceived qualities and stared into their mirror for a long dreamy moment.

  “I mean how much do you know about what he does and who he is?” Sophie prodded gently.

  “I told you. He does investing for cattlemen. He’s from the east somewhere.”

  “That’s not much.”

  “Sophie! I know everything I need to know.” Her tone had grown exasperated at Sophie’s questioning.