Heart of a Lawman

by Patricia Rosemoor

  Josie stopped dead and let the horse stare at the moving water as precious seconds ticked away. She heard the engine move up on them, knew exactly when it slowed. Her heart raced. Exposed as she was, she made a perfect target.

  Centering herself, Josie waited quietly and felt Juniper relax under her. Above, the vehicle stopped.

  No more time to wait. Now or never.

  Gathering her will and tightening her legs, she pushed the mare forward, slapping her on the rump. Before Juniper could think about whirling around or bucking again, they were flying through the water. Not that the mare stopped on the other side—she shot straight up the embankment, scrabbling against ground that churned under her hooves.

  Josie lay across the mare’s neck in an effort to make the climb easier.

  And to make herself a smaller target.

  She awaited the whine of a bullet that never came. Instead, she heard the pickup moving again. Now they were above the creek, but it took her a moment to settle Juniper. When Josie glanced back, the vehicle was starting to cross the bridge.

  What in the world did Randy think he was doing? He could only go a little more than halfway.

  He rolled to a stop a yard from the maw and the dangling old pickup. When he alighted, his rifle was in hand. It dawned on her that he was going for the higher elevation of the bridge—better to take aim at her—and the land here was mostly open.

  About to make a run for it, Josie heard another engine coming from the direction of the house. She craned around as Bart’s SUV pulled into sight. Relief warred with worry, for she was certain the man she loved didn’t know what he was up against.

  In hopes of distracting her ex-husband, she shouted, “Give it up, Randy!”

  “I’m not done yet, Joanne. I’m not doing any more jail time.”

  Not that she’d known he’d ever been in jail…

  But Randy wasn’t getting off the bridge the way he’d come, either, Bart’s vehicle making an effective roadblock.

  The lawman crawled out the safer passenger side, yelling, “Josie, get the hell out of here!”

  “Bart, he’s armed!”

  “That makes two of us. Now go!”

  Randy turned his attention to Bart, using his own pickup as a barricade. Josie couldn’t just leave, but there was nothing she could do except watch, heart in her throat.

  “Turn yourself in, Walker, and it’ll go easier on you.”

  Josie’s eyes widened. Bart knew. How?

  “I’ll see you in hell first!” came Randy’s reply. “It’ll be a pleasure to kill a wife-stealing bastard like you!”

  He aimed and shot, the whine shattering Josie’s composure. “Leave him alone, Randy—it’s me you want!”

  “Josie, go!” Bart yelled again.

  Which she ignored. Moving a nervous Juniper closer to the bridge, she took the same tone she’d use on a horse she was trying to seduce. “C’mon, Randy. We can work something out.”

  Her last words were drowned in an exchange of gunfire. If this kept up, someone was bound to get shot. She feared it might be Bart. She dismounted and dropped Juniper’s reins to the ground.

  “Randy, please,” she said, moving onto the bridge, “I’ll do whatever you want of me. You have those papers for me to sign in the truck, don’t you?”

  “What if I do?”

  “Get them and I’ll sign now. Then you can leave and no one has to go to jail.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “What have you got to lose?” Josie asked, stopping mere feet from the broken section of the bridge. “Try me. Get the papers.”

  She would sign anything if that would make him go away without hurting anyone. The authorities could deal with him later—assuming they could find him once he got his hands on the money. All she wanted was for her and Bart to walk away from this alive, and Randy was too desperate to let that happen, unless Bart could take him out first. She wasn’t willing to take the chance.

  “Josie, what the hell are you trying to prove?” Bart demanded.

  “I want this to end so that we all come out alive!” she yelled back. “Hold your fire, Bart. He wants my money, he can have it!” Softer, in that practiced seductive voice she normally reserved for horses and cats, she told her ex-husband, “I don’t care about the money enough to let anyone get killed over it, Randy, not even you.”

  Which was true. Josie’s pulse threaded unevenly as she waited for him to make up his mind.

  “No tricks or I’ll kill you both,” he promised.

  “No tricks.”

  Randy slipped inside his vehicle long enough to take a portfolio from behind the driver’s seat. “Dot every i and cross every t,” he warned her.

  He aimed and carefully tossed the large folder over the abandoned pickup. She caught it, quickly moved away from the deathtrap and pulled out the contents, including the pen he’d so thoughtfully provided. If she had signed these papers in the first place, Randy would never have taken her keys, forcing her to steal that truck to get away from him. She never would have had that accident. She never would have met Bart.

  Undoubtedly, that would have been better for him and his family. She glanced over to Bart where he waited at his vehicle, rifle lowered. He didn’t look happy, but she didn’t care. Money just didn’t matter enough to chance any of them.

  After signing the papers, every last one, she bundled them back inside, then moved closer to the danger zone.

  “Signed, sealed and delivered,” she said, tossing the folder straight to her ex.

  Randy reached out too eagerly. The portfolio hit his hand and went flying back at her, falling short and onto the tilted hood of the abandoned pickup that dangled between them.

  “Hell!” he yelled.

  Desperate, Randy lunged after the promise to his fortune, not watching where he stepped.

  The crack as loud as a gunshot made Josie jump back, even as she realized a rotted board beneath his foot had given way. Randy yelled again and tried to regain his balance, but he was toppling forward with increasing velocity.

  Bart was already scrambling over his SUV as Randy threw out his hands in front of him. The smack of their slamming into the old truck echoed along the creek.

  Gaze caught by the unfolding horror before her, Josie retreated farther even as Bart raced toward the disaster.

  “Bart, no!” she yelled, fearing for him, knowing there was no saving Randy now. He might take Bart with him.

  A bird landing on the doomed pickup would have rocked it. Randy’s weight forced devastation. His scream was lost in the agony of screeching metal and cracking boards.

  Bart was there, balancing awkwardly on the unsafe precipice, reaching out, clawed hand snagging the back of Randy’s jacket. Too late. The force of the falling body ripped the material free. Bridge, truck and man raced to the waters below.

  Through it all, Josie held her breath until she was sure Bart was safe.

  Only then, when the air grew thick with the stillness of death, did Josie stumble closer to see.

  Below, the pickup lay in the creek like a turtle flipped onto its shell. Next to it, a hand floated up to the surface. For a moment, the portfolio lingered in the still fingers.

  Then it was sucked away by the greedy current, along with Randy’s life.

  REFUSING A RIDE in Bart’s pickup, a stunned Josie returned to the barn the way she’d come—but on a much more experienced Juniper, who took the creek with little more than eye-rolling and snorting. Bart had beaten them back, she noted, though he was nowhere in sight. As promised, Josie rewarded the mare with a bucket of cake.

  Then she went to fetch her beloved Peaches, sat in the dirt behind the tack shed with the cat in her lap and had herself a good cry.

  She cried for her mother’s death. For the lonely innocent she had been. For Randy wasting his life on something so unimportant as money. For finding the love of her life one man too late.

  Bart hated violence and she had brought it straight to hi
s door.

  She didn’t know how long he stood there, watching her, before he said, “I called the sheriff’s office. They’re sending a team out to recover the body.” He cleared his throat nervously. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  A quick look up showed her his closed expression. Closing himself off from her? Because she’d given him her trust too late?

  “Loss?” She shrugged. “If only it were that simple. In a way, I’m responsible for Randy’s death.”

  Bart leaned over and pulled her up to her feet, while a purring Peaches hugged her, claws catching in her denim jacket.

  “You didn’t do this,” he said.

  She clung to the cat tightly. “I should have given him what he wanted in the first place…as part of the divorce settlement.”

  “Divorce?” Bart couldn’t hide the relief in his expression as he said, “He would have come back for more.”

  Josie started. He hadn’t known everything, then. He’d thought she was a married woman. “How long have you known about Randy?”

  “That call I made to Deputy Malone this morning…”

  He went on to explain about the photo and Randy’s attempt to get the police to find her.

  “He thought he could get away with anything,” Josie said. “I divorced him. He wouldn’t let me be. I put a restraining order on him. He ignored it. So I just decided to disappear for a while, hoping he’d give up and go away. Instead, he found me. He didn’t even need the help from the authorities.” She sighed. “You knew about that and you didn’t say anything. Talk about trust.”

  “I made a mistake and I knew it,” Bart admitted. “That’s why I came back so fast. I wanted to have that talk. To tell you.”

  Josie nodded. Not that it made any difference now. She had a life waiting for her elsewhere. And he had his family to worry over.

  Bart cupped her cheek and brushed the moisture from it with his thumb. “If you were through with Walker, Josie, then why so many tears?”

  She hedged. “He was a human being and I was close to him for a little while. I did care about him until I knew what he was. And…”

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And I’m sad to be leaving.”

  Bart scowled at her. “You’re leaving? Why?”

  “I know who I am now. And I’m not who you thought I was.”

  “You’re so much more. You mean the world to me, Josie. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

  “Or me if it had been you,” she admitted, a lump in her throat. “I had to stop him before he hurt you.”

  “What you did was crazy and smart and very brave. Walker’s own greediness did him in.”

  Josie nodded. “He admitted being responsible for the bridge. He’d given up trying to scare me back into his arms and got serious.”

  “And got caught in his own trap.”

  “Poetic justice,” she murmured.

  “A good thing for him. If I had gotten my hands on him, I would have ripped him apart.”

  “After saving his life? You tried your best, Bart. Why?”

  “Like you said, he was a human being. And I guess I’ll always be a lawman.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. Josie felt tears threatening her once more, and to cover, she stooped to put the cat back in her carrier.

  “Are you really going to leave me?” he asked.

  “You’ll find a new wrangler.”

  “But I can’t replace Josie Wales.”

  Rising, she blinked her tears away. “There is no Josie Wales.”

  “The hell there isn’t—”

  “She’s a figment of my amnesia.”

  “I’m looking at her. She’s here,” Bart said, patting the left side of his chest. “And here.” He touched hers, making her heart beat faster. “I don’t want to lose her. Don’t run away from me, please.”

  She didn’t want to run. She was tired of it. She wanted to stay put with a man she loved. Have a sense of belonging. A big family, something she’d never had.

  “I love you, Bart Quarrels…but what about your kids?”

  “When they get to know you better, they’ll love you, too.” As if certain she was softening, Bart grinned at her and pulled her into his arms. “Any other objections?”

  Josie’s pulse thrummed even as she said, “I did rush into things with Randy. Not that I think you’re anything like him,” she hastened to add.

  “Then we’ll take it as slow as you need,” Bart promised, his face drawing closer to hers, one hand traveling down the small of her back.

  Suddenly breathless, she echoed, “Slow?”

  She thought he would take forever getting his mouth to hers. “Slow,” he murmured as their lips touched and that wayward hand strayed even lower.

  Josie gave herself over to the moment. She always had wanted a man with a slow hand….

  Epilogue

  A bolt of electricity charged through Josie as she and Dreamsickle shot across the arena, horse and rider moving together, of one mind. And she anticipated every second of the competition before it even happened.

  The flaxen mane whipping along a sorrel neck…

  …the tight, fast turns around three barrels…

  …and the rapid flight to the finish.

  Josie felt the rush of victory when she heard her time and knew that she had won the event. Her mouth pulling into a wide grin, she lifted her hat and tossed it into the air.

  That grin was still tugging at her lips later when she joined Bart and his kids outside the arena.

  “Congratulations,” Bart said and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek.

  “That was awesome, Josie!” Daniel declared.

  “I got a ton of photographs of your ride!” Lainey said.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing them,” Josie told the girl. “Maybe you can help me add them to my scrapbook?”

  “Sure,” Lainey agreed, “if you can give me some barrel-riding lessons. Please?”

  Josie grinned wider. “Deal.”

  It had been only a few weeks and Bart’s kids were already taking to her.

  “Hey, I’m starving!” Daniel complained. “Are we ever gonna chow down?”

  Bart dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out two tens. “Knock yourselves out. We’ll meet you over by the Ferris wheel in half an hour.”

  The siblings flew away from the adults and into the crowd.

  “Looks like the plan’s working,” Bart said.

  “It’s a great plan.”

  She and Bart were really getting to know each other, solidifying their relationship. By their including his kids, Daniel and Lainey both were accepting her presence in their lives without trauma. By the time she and Bart were ready to take the next step—marriage—Josie hoped the kids would care for her as much as she already did for them.

  Suddenly realizing Bart seemed distracted—he was staring into the crowd around them—she nudged him. “Hey, where’d you go?”

  “Just looking for someone who isn’t here.”

  “Your brother?”

  “Yeah, I was kind of hoping I might spot Chance…”

  They’d learned that Chance had been expected to ride in a couple of events the next night, but that he had withdrawn from both. Though she didn’t really know Bart’s brother, Josie vaguely remembered him from the rodeo circuit as being very focused, very competitive. His withdrawing was kind of weird.

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “Part of me does,” Bart admitted. “And we could use his help back at the Curly-Q.”

  They could sure use help from someone, Josie thought, what with all the bad luck the ranch had been having. Bad luck including a death. She would never forget Peter Dagget.

  “Pa says Chance has never stayed away for such a long time before,” Bart added. “He’s worried.”

  “You are, too.”

  “Me, too.” Then, squeezing her waist, he said, “Let’s find someplace to be alone for
a few minutes before we have to go find my kids.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Josie murmured, her pulse skittering as she considered how enjoyable a few minutes of privacy could be with the man she loved.

  ALONE…

  Chance Quarrels was nursing a beer, sitting alone in a bar on the other side of town from the arena. He’d already withdrawn from the saddle bronc and bareback competitions that would be held the next night. He had a lot on his mind—too many distractions to believe he could have a safe ride—and no one to talk to.

  A couple of cowpokes he knew entered laughing and joking. They grew quiet when they spotted him and sat at the opposite end of the bar, their backs to him.

  He was getting used to being a pariah.

  Suddenly the beer tasted flat and Chance pushed himself away from the bar.

  Not much longer, he told himself. Then it would be over.

  He even had a place to go to wait it out.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-5016-4

  HEART OF A LAWMAN

  Copyright © 2000 by Patricia Pinianski

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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