Heart of a Lawman

by Patricia Rosemoor

  And so a short while later, when he said, “We’re almost there, but hang on tight,” she did so gladly.

  She never wanted to let go. Never wanted him to let go of her. Only she knew he would. She would let Bart down, and once his expectations were dashed, he would be relieved to be rid of her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They began a slow ascent, moving in a serpentine pattern, Bart’s announced goal a cave halfway up the rimrock.

  Josie felt bereft when they passed under the overhang and he opened his slicker and helped her down. Then he dismounted and wrapped the slicker around her alone.

  “Hang in a few more minutes and I’ll have a fire going,” he promised. “Then we’ll get you nice and warm and dry.”

  She didn’t tell him she was already glowing with warmth from their close contact. Instead, she tended Honcho, removing saddlebags and a bedroll, then the saddle itself. It seemed to her that Bart had come prepared for anything.

  He quickly started the fire. Even the first small flames allowed Josie some idea of her surroundings. While the cave’s mouth was large, it didn’t cut back far into the rimrock. Deep enough to keep the weather from them, however, the cave proved cozy.

  She spread open the bedroll near Bart, who was placing split wood over the flames.

  “How did you know there would be firewood up here?” she asked.

  “Tradition. My brothers and I always made certain we restocked.”

  Wondering when they’d last met here, she asked, “An old hangout for the Quarrels boys?”

  “I guess you could call it that. This cave is the one place we left our disagreements behind,” he said.

  Making her think there had been many such disagreements between the brothers.

  “It’s good to have a place like that—something safe.”

  The fire was roaring now and Josie was already feeling drier. She sat cross-legged on the pad before the flames. Unbraiding her hair so that it would dry faster, she fluffed the long strands.

  Bart joined her on the bedroll. Their knees touched and heat quickly spread from the point of contact. She shivered, but not from any chill this time. She didn’t complain when Bart wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer. His hand began trailing up and down her arm in a rhythm that aroused her growing need for him.

  Pulse thrumming, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless, she admitted, “I haven’t felt safe much lately…except when I’m with you.”

  “Could have fooled me. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming.”

  “Your being a lawman is intimidating,” Josie admitted. And then, determined to fulfill her silent promise, she said, “And I’m a thief.”

  The hand rubbing her arm stilled, but Bart didn’t say a word. He waited, as if expecting her to explain.

  “That accident I told you about,” she continued, dry-mouthed, “I, uh…I was driving a stolen truck.” There, at last she’d said it!

  “You’re sure you stole the vehicle?”

  “Who else?”

  “The man you’ve been running from?”

  “How do you know about…” Then it hit her—she’d only told one person. “Alcina.”

  “You’ve made a good friend in Alcina Dale, Josie. You can trust her just like you can trust me. So what will it be? Want to tell me what you didn’t tell her?”

  Those lawman’s instincts were working overtime, and yet Bart didn’t seem disgusted with her as Josie had feared he might. Now wasn’t the time to hold back. She had to tell him everything she knew before she lost her nerve.

  “I woke in the hospital to hear them talking about the stolen truck and how the authorities were running a check on my fingerprints.” She got it all out in one big rush. “But I didn’t remember doing anything wrong.”

  “So you ran.”

  “Which may be a habit with me,” she warned him. “Give me a problem and there I go out the door.”

  “You’re not running now.”

  “Not because I don’t want to…but mostly because of you.” Josie closed her eyes and said, “I’ve never met anyone like you, Bart.” That was as close as she was going to get to making a declaration.

  “That you remember,” he amended.

  “I know a lot of things by instinct, and I’m more sure of that than I am of my own name.” She laughed at the irony. “Finally, it’s coming back, but only in bits. A sorrel named Dreamsickle…and a cat named Peaches. A mother who died not too long ago—” for which she felt sorry even if she didn’t remember her mom yet “—and a man who…may be trying to kill me, starting with the accident that brought me here and maybe including removing some boards from that bridge today. I think he shot at me and nicked Mack. And Peter…I—I even wonder what might have really happened to him.”

  Squeezing her arm, Bart admitted, “So do I.”

  “When I was in that stolen truck, I remember thinking he was after me…wasn’t going to let me live…but I can’t see his damn face so I can’t do anything to stop him!”

  Bart turned her in his arms so she was looking at him. He trailed her jaw with his thumb. “Josie, you’re not going to die. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “Again?” she echoed, confused. “My dying would be a first.”

  “I meant I won’t lose another woman I love to violence.”

  “Love…?”

  The word escaped her as softly as a breath. Before she could demand an explanation, Bart’s mouth was covering hers, drawing from her emotions she hadn’t been willing to face before.

  She broke the kiss, protesting, “Bart, you don’t really know anything about me.”

  “I know enough. You have a good heart…two good hearts if you count mine.”

  Josie was caught by the wonder of his declaration. She searched his expression. His eyes. Little flames shot back at her, reflections of the firelight. She touched his face in wonder—so ruggedly handsome—from his broad cheekbones to the slight indentation in his chin.

  Bart caught her wrist with his hand, her finger with his mouth. He sucked the tip, scraped his teeth across it, over the knuckles, along her wrist.

  “How many fires are you willing to put out?” she asked shakily.

  “As many as it takes.”

  Vaguely wondering if he meant the figurative fires set by her mystery man or the physical ones flaring between them with regularity, Josie kissed Bart. A new fire built in her fast, and she knew of only one way to put it out.

  She was willing…eager…afraid….

  But she had already determined that she was tired of being afraid.

  And so, when Bart moved his hands over her more intimately, Josie welcomed his touch. When he began unbuttoning her damp shirt, she unbuttoned his, as well. Her fingers were stiff and uncooperative, but she persevered. And soon they were open to each other. His flesh burned her palms.

  Bart cupped her unbound breasts and lowered his head to kiss the soft flesh. Josie arched into him, silently begging for more. When his mouth closed on a tender tip and suckled it, she let loose a sound that came straight from her soul. Lacing her fingers in his hair, she urged him on.

  “Don’t stop,” she breathed.

  She’d taken a chance on telling him the truth, so why shouldn’t she take a chance now? She had nothing left to lose and everything to gain.

  Her memory…a real life to share…loving a man she could trust…

  As crazy as it seemed, Josie was certain she was in love with Bart Quarrels. She had known him for so short a time, and yet they’d experienced more together in days than some people experienced in a lifetime.

  “Josie,” he murmured in her hair. “I want you.”

  “And I want you, Bart.”

  The truth. Instinct. Some things even a woman with no memory didn’t have to question.

  Bart didn’t. He finished undressing her, then took her with a surety that left her no time for doubt. Joined before the fire, they made love until they fell asleep in each other’s arm
s.

  It was only afterward, when she awoke suddenly, her heart pounding in reaction to one of her frightening dreams, that the doubts started creeping back in. Bart continued to sleep, one leg thrown over her possessively, yet Josie wondered if she hadn’t allowed her passions to cloud her mind. She hadn’t been thinking straight.

  No question remained in her mind about the bridge—enough boards had been removed to cause an accident. The perpetrator had known she’d gone to water the cows and that she would have to return the same way. Had known the weather would be against her. Had known her night vision was poor.

  Will “Billy Boy” Spencer?

  Will hadn’t been there when she’d set off—he’d been chasing down strays, according to Frank. But he could have been on his way back to the barn when he’d spotted her.

  Josie shivered despite the heat of the glowing embers and Bart’s body sheltering hers.

  Bart was now bound to her, no matter the consequences. And there could be consequences…maybe for him, as well as for her. If he got in the way, who was to say that the man she loved wouldn’t become another target?

  And what about his kids?

  Josie’s stomach did a familiar, unpleasant dance.

  Dear Lord, what if she’d just put them all in danger?

  FROM THE MOMENT they’d awakened together at first light, Bart sensed Josie’s distraction. Despite his persuasiveness, she’d declined to make love again, had insisted they get back before someone came out to find them.

  Though the sky was still gray as they set off, the weather had lifted. Josie rode behind him this time, touching him only as much as she needed to hang on.

  Why was she acting so oddly—so different from the warm, loving, trusting woman he’d held in his arms all night?

  Bart put it to a reality check. She had other things on her mind…like chasing down those elusive memories. He could give her space, if that’s what she needed, but only for the moment. When he got off Honcho, he would take her in his arms and reassure her.

  But that proved impossible. By the time they got back to the barn, a welcoming reception awaited them. The hands had gathered and two of the horses were already saddled. Discussion stopped as Bart and Josie rode in.

  Moon-Eye said, “We were just gonna form a search party.”

  They dismounted, and as the old hand looked from one to the other, his expression turned knowing. Frank seemed to be inspecting the toe of his boot, while Will stared at them, his expression strangely closed.

  “Josie had an accident,” Bart said, meeting Will’s gaze directly. “The bridge gave. The pickup’s still dangling over the creek.”

  The cowboy didn’t so much as blink.

  But Frank muttered something under his breath, and Moon-Eye sputtered, demanding to know more. Bart gave the bare details, leaving out anything personal. He was too aware of Josie’s unusual silence on the matter. She was avoiding looking at any of the men, almost as if she were afraid to.

  Bart didn’t know his father was coming up behind him until he heard the old man mutter, “Another thing gone wrong…will it ever end?”

  Before Bart could respond, his kids raced out of the house, Felice following. Lainey charged into him. “Dad, I thought something terrible happened to you!”

  Hugging her in return, he said, “I’m fine, sweetheart, really. There was a problem with the truck and I only had one horse, so we found shelter and waited out the rain.”

  Even with the explanation, Lainey clung to him as if she feared another loss. He hugged her tightly.

  “You’re late, you know,” Daniel informed him. “The bus is long gone. I guess that means we don’t have to go to school today.”

  Dryly, Bart said, “I’ll drive you.” His gaze went over his daughter’s head to Josie, who finally spoke.

  “Then you can drop me at Alcina’s.” Her expression was as closed as Will’s. “I could use the day to myself.”

  Bart nodded. She needed some time alone, maybe some quality sleep. He’d give her a few hours. Then they were going to have another talk. He was going to get to the bottom of whatever was eating at her. He sensed more wrong than she’d already told him.

  “Mr. Bart,” Felice said, “a Sheriff Malone called. He said it was important.”

  “Thanks, Felice.” Bart looked at Josie, who was more subdued than he’d ever seen her. “I need to get back to Malone before we leave.”

  “No problem.”

  “Miss Josie, you look like you could use some breakfast.”

  “Thanks, Felice, but I’m really not hungry.”

  Bart let go of his daughter. “Lainey, honey, get your things for school. You, too, Daniel.”

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  He started for the house. His father kept pace with him. “Sheriff Malone, huh? You tell him you got a job here.”

  “Malone’s a friend, Pa,” Bart said distractedly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Mr. Emmett, remember your doctor’s appointment,” Felice said. “We should be leaving soon, as well.”

  “Nothing’s wrong with my memory, woman!”

  Bart took the opportunity to race inside, where he immediately called Malone.

  “So what do you have?” he asked his old friend.

  “One of the boys in San Miguel County recognized the photo—unofficially, you understand. It’s not on the books. Her name’s Joanne Walker. Her husband Randy came in last week, tried to get the department to issue a missing person bulletin on her.”

  Bart’s heart stilled. Josie’s married? “And?”

  “A little conversation revealed something about a domestic squabble. Since we’re not in the business of tracking down runaway wives, no one followed up.”

  Bart thanked him and hung up, then stood there staring at the telephone.

  He’d just made love to another man’s wife.

  Had Josie—Joanne—suddenly remembered that part? Is that why she’d been acting so strangely? And if she did remember…then what else hadn’t she told him?

  Runaway wife— could the answer really be that simple?

  Bart didn’t know what to think.

  JOSIE DIDN’T LIKE THE WAY Will stared at her, even after Bart went inside to return that call. Ignoring him, she scrambled into the SUV, half-expecting Will to follow her. Instead, he simply disappeared.

  She took a deep breath to calm herself, but her stomach kicked up, anyway, and by the time Bart slid into the driver’s seat, his kids in the back, she was thinking she should have agreed to that breakfast.

  Bart started off immediately without saying a word to her. Instincts humming, Josie sensed something was wrong without him saying so. What now? Not that it mattered. She wouldn’t be around long enough to find out what it was.

  Certain that Will was the man who’d been stalking her, Josie knew she had to leave. He was too close for comfort. A rattler right in the Quarrelses’ nest. If she disappeared, he would undoubtedly try to follow, and the danger would be over, at least for Bart and his kids. They would be safe, even if she was not.

  Her memory was returning and soon she would know everything, including the whys and wherefores. Then she could deal with Will Spencer and with whatever she may have done to bring this situation on herself.

  But first she had to get away.

  “My dad’s a real hero, isn’t he?” Lainey suddenly piped up from the back seat. “Saving you from that bridge and all?”

  Realizing the girl was talking to her, Josie turned to face Lainey. “Your dad is the bravest man I know,” she said with all sincerity.

  “But women can be brave, too, right? I mean, it’s like your being a wrangler. We can do whatever we have a mind to,” the girl said, echoing Josie’s own sentiment of a few days ago. “Even be a hero.”

  Daniel snorted. “Fat chance you’ll ever do anything heroic!”

  “Shut up, dork!”

  A lump sat squarely in Josie’s throat as she turned to stare out the front windo
w, somehow avoiding Bart as she did so. All she felt was scared, despite the admonitions she’d given herself over the past days. She might be tired of being afraid, but there seemed to be no helping it.

  When Bart dropped her off with a terse “I’ll be by later—we need to talk,” Josie didn’t say anything rather than lie.

  Stomach roiling unpleasantly, she hurried into the kitchen, where Alcina had just brought in the leftovers from breakfast.

  “Felice called and told me what happened. You’re all right?” Alcina asked.

  Josie fetched half a dry waffle and bit into it. “As good as can be expected under the circumstances, I guess.”

  “You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.”

  Taking another bite to soothe her protesting stomach, Josie thought she might never feel better again. She was leaving the man she loved—how was she ever going to get over that?

  Seeing that Alcina was about to go into the dining room, Josie beat her to it, saying, “I’ll get the rest.”

  She was just in time to catch Tim Harrigan, who was about to leave the table that was otherwise empty. His eyes went wide when he saw her.

  “You’re not…working,” he said. “Did you lose your job or something?”

  “Something.” Josie took a big breath. “Tim, I have a serious problem. That offer you made to get me out of here—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “When do you want to leave?”

  Relief sluiced through her. “How soon can you be ready?”

  “I just need to throw my stuff into a bag.” Tim immediately whipped around toward the stairs.

  “One thing.” She caught his sleeve and stopped him. “I don’t have the heart to leave Miss Kitty behind.”

  She felt as if she’d had the cat forever and couldn’t fathom that she’d been willing to leave her before.

  Tim’s immediate frown was short-lived. His expression cleared and he shrugged. “I guess there’s plenty of room for her carrier in the back of the pickup. Go—get your stuff together and I’ll get mine. Meet you out back.”

  “Tim, thanks, really.”

  Josie wanted to say goodbye to Alcina, but the woman had disappeared from the kitchen. All for the best, she told herself. Alcina would probably try to stop her again, and Josie wasn’t about to be talked out of leaving.