Texas Lawman

by Carolyn Davidson

  Her chin rose a bit and her eyes flashed a dark message in his direction. “I’m not afraid of them. I just don’t like them.”

  “They’re a fact of life, Sarah. If you have a farm, you have mice. If you have a cat like Tabby, you can keep them pretty much under control.”

  “You don’t have them in the house, do you?” she asked, darting a glance toward the pantry.

  He couldn’t believe her. His amusement spilled over into laughter again. “A woman who managed to follow a rascal like Lester Clark across the country, toting a gun and keeping track of her prey for who knows how long, shouldn’t blink an eye at whopping a mouse with a broom,” he said cheerfully.

  “I’d rather shoot Lester,” she said sharply. “And where is he, anyway? Has he left town yet, or are we going to be hidden here till kingdom come?”

  “Till it’s safe,” he said firmly.

  “It’s not going to be safe for you, once the folks hereabouts realize I’m parked in your house,” she said bluntly. “Don’t you know what sort of stories people will start spreading? You’re asking for trouble, mister.”

  “You’d rather be in jail?” he asked mildly.

  “Of course not. I’d rather be bundling up my nephew and heading back home.”

  “And what happens if Lester Clark chases you down?” he asked. “He’s bigger than you are, sweetheart. He carries a bigger gun. And I don’t think he’s a very nice fella.”

  “Well, that’s the understatement of the year,” she said quickly. “I know all about Lester. He’s not going to shoot me.”

  “And how do you know that?” Brace asked.

  “He has other plans for me.”

  Brace was silent, his mind reckoning the truth of her words, and finding them to be logical. “What’s his problem?”

  Sarah turned toward the stove and stirred the contents of a kettle. Her movements were vigorous, her back stiff and straight, and he’d warrant her cheeks were flushed. Either with anger or embarrassment. Maybe both.

  “You ready to eat?” she asked. And then, without waiting for his answer, she dished up into a bowl the meal she’d concocted from his supplies and carried it to the table.

  “What’s that?” Brace asked, peering into the savory mixture.

  “Beef stew,” she answered. “You didn’t have any decent flour, so I couldn’t make biscuits. It’s a good thing you brought bread home.” She reached into the kitchen cupboard, brought forth three smaller bowls and placed them on the table, then looked at him.

  “Would you mind calling Stephen in? He’s inside the shed. I told him not to venture outside.”

  Brace rose, ambled to the back door and stepped out onto the porch. “Stephen,” he called, pitching his voice to carry the fifty feet or so to the outbuilding. He was rewarded by the sight of a grinning child, a kitten cuddled in each arm as he stood in the open doorway. The look of pleasure on the boy’s face made this whole mess worth it all, Brace decided.

  “Come on in, son,” he said. “Your aunt has supper ready for us.”

  “I think we need to talk,” Brace said, aware that this conversation was overdue. “I want to know just what your plans are, Sarah. And don’t tell me you’re ready to trot back where you came from when you know damn well that your brother-in-law will be hot on your trail the minute you leave town.”

  “I thought you said he took his horse and left.” She hesitated, then offered her opinion. “Probably heading for his family’s place west of here.”

  “And you really think that’s the end of it?” Brace asked. “He didn’t bring the boy this far just so he could walk away and forget the whole thing. Though it doesn’t make sense to me that he’d let you find him so easily. He could have lost you if he’d had a mind to, don’t you think?”

  She nodded. Reluctantly, he thought without surprise. “It isn’t Stephen he really wants,” she said quietly. “It’s me.”

  “That’s about what I figured.” He leaned back in his chair and watched as Sarah’s cheeks turned pink. She lowered her eyelids, as if she could not face his scrutiny, and she seemed to concentrate on the design in the oilcloth. Her index finger traced a yellow flower, and then she found an errant crumb from supper and brushed it to the floor.

  “My sister was also my twin,” she said after the silence had stretched to several minutes. “Lester wanted to marry me eight years ago, but I wouldn’t accept his proposal. I was too young, just sixteen, and deathly afraid of him, to tell the truth. He has a violent temper.” She looked up at him then. “I already told you that, didn’t I?”

  He nodded encouragingly and waited for the rest of the story, aware already that the ending would not be to his liking. “You told me,” he said. “The same time you told me he’d killed your sister.”

  “Sierra was timid,” she said. And then her smile twisted her lips in a grimace. “We weren’t much alike. Not like two peas in a pod, as my mama used to say.” She sighed. “We looked alike, but I use my right hand and Sierra used her left. It was the one way my father could tell us apart sometimes, except for when I lost my temper.”

  And that was something Brace could well imagine. Sarah was a spitfire. His thoughts spun, snagged by one statement she’d made. “Could Lester Clark tell you apart?” he asked. “Or was it you he really wanted, but had to settle for your sister?”

  “You’re a pretty smart fella for a lawman,” Sarah said with a wry glance in his direction. “I think you’re way ahead of me.”

  “I’m assuming you figured Lester out first thing, Sarah. So why didn’t you warn your sister about him? She was sixteen, too—far too young for marriage.”

  “She wouldn’t listen. He can be charming when he wants to be, and Sierra was easy to fool. She could have had any number of men if she hadn’t been so besotted with Lester.” Sarah shook her head, and her eyes lost their brilliance. “She was sorry from the first day she married him. I don’t know why she stuck it out for so long, except that she got pregnant right away.”

  “Was that reason enough?” Brace asked bluntly. “Couldn’t she have gone home?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Not in a town like we lived in. My mother is the head of the garden group and my father is a town councilman. Walking away from her marriage was not an option. Besides, by then Lester had stolen money from my father’s company and the bank was after him. My folks felt disgraced by the whole thing.”

  “I’d say it was more of a disgrace to have to plan her funeral,” Brace noted.

  Sarah’s eyes rose to meet his. “You’re right. They knew. No matter that they pretended to go along with Lester’s story about someone lying in wait for Sierra, my parents knew what really happened. Lester probably didn’t mean to kill her. My parents didn’t want that sort of scandal to taint their reputations. They’d covered up her injuries for years.” She paused and shrugged. “I know they mourned her terribly, and I suspect they felt guilty. They tried to make amends by taking Stephen into our home. They were good to him, and between us, we took care of him until the day Lester made off with him.”

  “I sure as hell hope they went to court to make Lester pay for what he did, not only stealing from your father, but his part in your sister’s death,” Brace muttered darkly. “And now Lester is after you. The man must be demented.”

  Her sidelong glance held a touch of macabre humor, he thought, as did the words she spoke. “To want me? Thanks a whole lot.” How she could still scrape up that small amount of humor in her situation gave him a glimpse into her mind. She was a woman of courage, and given a fair chance could have held her own against a man of Lester’s ilk.

  She was also considerably older than he’d guessed at first. Twenty-four, if he’d figured right, if it had been eight years since Lester’s proposal. She was old enough to know her mind. And that made her more eligible as a woman in his eyes, a thought he set aside for future consideration.

  The situation she faced at this point reeked of danger and duplicity. Her safe haven ri
ght now was here, with him, Brace decided. And he’d see to it she and the boy came to no harm. Although where that would leave him, once this thing was resolved, was a question he’d rather not consider right now.

  Suddenly the thought of Sarah Murphy walking away and leaving him alone again held no appeal whatsoever.

  Chapter Four

  The beef stew was excellent, and Brace’s expectations were lifted by the flavor of fresh, homemade food. He’d do well to keep Sarah on here, and would no doubt be assured of regular meals.

  “You can cook,” he said quietly, the words a firm statement. He watched as Stephen left the table and trotted out the back door toward the shed. It seemed the lure of kittens was strong. The child disappeared inside the small building, and Brace’s brief fear was relieved when Stephen reappeared moments later with two kittens in hand. He sat in the yard and frolicked with the tiny animals, his laughter bringing Sarah to attention.

  “He hasn’t sounded so happy in a long time,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Sheriff. I really appreciate what you’ve done for us. I just hope you don’t get in hot water over this.”

  “I’m not worried,” Brace replied. “I’d rather put my job on the line than see a child abused. There’s always another job around the corner if I need to start looking.”

  Sarah smiled. The man would never have to go out scouring for work. He was prime material, a masculine sort who seemed cut out for the career he’d chosen. Lawman. He fit the title to a T. Tall and strong, with principles and moral standards. Compared to him, Lester appeared less than worthless.

  “I doubt they’ll be out combing the woods for a new man to take your place anytime soon,” she told him. “They’d be foolish people if they let you loose.”

  “I’m not worried for today, anyway,” he repeated. “And if you keep on cooking this way, I’ll have a hard time turning you loose myself, Miss Murphy.”

  She met his dark eyes and smiled. “Sarah,” she said, correcting him mildly.

  “Sarah.” He repeated her name slowly, as if he savored it on his tongue, and she felt a blush stain her cheeks. His eyes were piercing as he took her measure. “You’ll do, Sarah Murphy.” And then the sound of Stephen at the back door caught their attention.

  “Aunt Sarah?” He called her name fretfully, and his small face pressed against the screen mesh of the door. “Are you still here? You’re not going away, are you?”

  “I’m here, Stephen,” she answered quickly. “Now, why don’t you come on inside and get your bedroom settled before dark?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said readily. “I saw the one right at the top of the stairs, and I like it just fine.”

  “The first room is a storage area,” Brace said quickly. “It has just a narrow slit of a window and no furniture to speak of. I’ve used it for odds and ends.”

  “I like it just fine, sir,” Stephen said. “There’s a bunch of soldiers there in a box and some little, bitty wooden animals. I’d like to sleep there if it’s all right.”

  Brace smiled, thinking of the menagerie of carved animals he’d stashed on a shelf in the room, and then again as he considered the collection of tin soldiers he’d played with as a child. “If that’s what you want, it’s all right with me, son,” he said. “I’ll bring down a bed from the attic for you. I think there’s a decent mattress up there.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah said quietly. “Not having a big window won’t bother him at all, I’d venture to say. He’d be fearful of someone…”

  “I understand.” And he did. The child was vulnerable, afraid of the man who had fathered him but treated him as a possession in order to gain what he really wanted.

  Sarah. The thought of Lester’s hands on Sarah’s flesh made Brace’s hackles rise.

  He turned to her now and watched as she wiped the last of the bowls and set it on the shelf. “How about picking out a room for yourself?” he asked, and smiled as she nodded her agreement. “Let’s go on up before the sun sets, so you can see what you’re getting into.”

  “I already checked things out,” she said softly. “I went up to see the space Stephen chose for his own. He dragged me up for a look-see, and I glanced into the other rooms while I was there.”

  “All right. Let’s take your things up, then, and you can set your belongings to rights,” Brace suggested. Without awaiting her agreement, he rose and walked to the hallway, searching out the worn canvas pack she’d brought with her. The woman traveled light—he’d give her that much. “Is this it?” he asked. “Did you leave anything at the hotel?”

  “No. I snatched up just what I thought I’d need for a couple of days when I left home. I guess I didn’t realize how long this trip would be.”

  “We can get you more at the general store if need be,” Brace said, trudging up the stairs, thinking he’d like to dress her in silk and soft lace. The errant thought scampered through his mind, and he relegated it to the compartment labeled “Forbidden.” It would not do to frighten the woman with his interest. And yet, as he turned from the doorway of his spare room to face her, he was lost in the vision of feminine grace she exuded. Soft and womanly, yet young and untried. For he’d warrant she had not known a man, had not succumbed to passion.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t require much in the line of clothing. Not so long as you have a scrub board and a clothesline handy.”

  “Come on in, Sarah,” he said, walking ahead of her into the small bedroom. A narrow bed drew her eyes and she glanced at him. “It’s a bed designed for one person,” he told her. “I won’t be changing the rules on you. Just thought I’d better let you know. I’m not a man to take advantage of a woman.” And wasn’t that a shame, he thought. He’d rarely been so taken with a female—only once before, in fact. And the difference between them was in his favor—this one was available.

  He watched as Sarah unpacked her clothing, noting the scant number of items she carried to the dresser: several pieces of underclothing and a full-bodied white nightgown. Two dresses were stuffed into the bag, plus another pair of britches and what looked like a boy’s flannel shirt. As alluring as the britches she wore had proved to be, he wondered what she would look like in one of the dresses and then shook his head.

  “What?” she asked sharply.

  “Just thinking,” he told her, walking to where she stood by the bed. The case was empty now and he took it from her. “I’ll put this in the attic, Sarah. You won’t be needing it for some time.”

  “You mean to keep me here?”

  “Do you have a better place to go?” His voice had hardened as he spoke, and she stepped back from him, releasing the makeshift luggage into his grasp.

  “You know I don’t,” she admitted. “I just hate to owe anyone anything.”

  “Keep cooking like you did today, and you won’t be in debt to me even a little bit,” he told her. He bent and touched his lips to her forehead, then felt shame wash through him as she jolted, moving away from the bed.

  “Sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to scare you off. You just smell so good and look so pretty, I couldn’t resist. I won’t be bothering you.”

  “Oh, you’re no bother, Sheriff. And you haven’t scared me off. I’m just not used to a man’s touch on me.”

  Now, what he was supposed to make of that was a conundrum, Brace decided. The lady might have run off in a fit of panic had he kissed her as his body was prompting him to do. He lifted a hand and brushed it against her cheek. She stood silently, shivering a little, as if she readied herself for flight. Her eyes held questions he was not ready to answer, he decided. Yet for this moment he found it difficult to resist the woman.

  Bending just a bit, he allowed his mouth to touch hers, brushing their lips together in a chaste kiss that would have satisfied even his own mama, who had forever told him how to treat a lady. And Sarah Murphy was a lady, if ever one existed. “I’ll just take this upstairs,” he said quietly. “I hope you’ll be happy here, and safe, Sarah. Mostly safe, I guess.
But if you found a little comfort in staying with me, I’d sure appreciate your ideas on the subject.”

  She looked up at him—a considerable distance, since Brace stood well over six feet tall. “I like you,” she said simply. “You would have made a hit with my mother and father. I just wish there had been men like you around the place when I was considering marriage, long ago before I was old enough to know better.”

  “Have you given up on the idea?” he asked. “You’re too young to spend the rest of your life alone, sweetheart. Surely the right man will come along one day.”

  A strange look of yearning touched her features and she looked aside. “Perhaps.”

  The luggage was quickly stowed in the attic and a mattress was carried to the storage room for Stephen. Brace stood at the top of the staircase, looking down into the library. From his vantage point he could see just a few feet inside the door, but he heard Sarah’s low tones distinctly, almost as if she spoke to herself, naming books and then rustling the pages as she apparently took them from the shelves and looked through them.

  He went down quietly, unwilling to disturb her, and took a stance in the wide doorway. She was curled in the window seat, her legs tucked beneath her, glancing through the pages of a leather-bound volume he’d often yearned to read. Only the fact that the woman who’d taken on the task of teaching him that particular skill had left, returning east to Boston, kept him from his dream.

  “Enjoying it?” he asked softly, and then walked to the desk and lit the lamp there. “I’ll bet you can see better with a little light on the subject,” he teased, and was rewarded by her upward glance as she smiled in his direction.

  “I’ve never seen so many wonderful books in one place in my life,” she said, holding the volume against her breasts. Brace thought for a moment that Charles Dickens was a lucky fellow, for she held one of that author’s works. And then he banished the thought as unworthy. Yet the urge to set her book aside, lift her from the window seat and surround Sarah with his arms in order to hold her against his yearning body was almost more than he could resist.