Corsets and Cuffs: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 3)

by Shanna Hatfield

  In the meantime, he needed to come up with a way to send Davis packing and convince Brianna she belonged with him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Unable to force herself to meet Davis for tea at the hotel, Brianna returned to her apartment and found Maggie had left early.

  She unlocked the back door and slipped inside, turning the lock behind her.

  Up in the apartment, she changed out of the gown that smelled of horses and took a refreshing sponge bath before dressing in a lightweight summer gown and pinning her hair up for the second time that day.

  As she poked in the last hairpin, the back door rattled, as though someone tried to open it. No one knocked and she found it strange, but didn’t give it another thought as she pinned on a hat that matched her cream-colored frock and tugged on a pair of gloves.

  Mindful that Davis would be in a tizzy if she didn’t appear soon, she hurried down the stairs. Voices outside stilled her feet.

  Quietly pressing her ear to the crack at the door, she listened as Davis spoke to someone.

  “I’m tired of playing these games. You do what I told you to take care of days ago while I keep her occupied. Before we leave, I still intend to make Brianna mine, whether it’s willingly or by force. Perhaps I need to buy my way into her affections since nothing else seems to work. That troublesome woman better be worth it.”

  The other voice was muted as the two men walked down the alley.

  Brianna held a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming out her anger and frustration. It seemed Davis still held despicable plans where she was concerned and had enlisted someone else to help carry them out.

  In the few days he’d been in town, she couldn’t recall seeing him with anyone in particular. Certainly not someone he’d speak to with such open frankness.

  Davis might think she was incapable of taking care of herself, but she’d prove him wrong.

  Several minutes passed before she opened the door and peered outside. With no one in sight, she slipped down the alley, cut across another and hurried to a store she’d walked past several times but never entered.

  A man with a bright red, shaggy walrus mustache gave her a surprised glance as she strode inside the shop that specialized in weaponry and mining supplies.

  “May I help you, ma’am?” he asked with a wary look as she hurried to the counter.

  “Yes, sir, I certainly hope you’ll be able to help me.” Brianna motioned to a display of revolvers. “I need to purchase a weapon.”

  His bushy eyebrows nearly touched his flaming red hairline, but he opened the display case. “My name’s McIntosh and this is my store. Who might you be?”

  “Miss Dumont. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The dubious look on his face let her know he’d decide if it was a pleasure or not later. “What are you interested in purchasing?”

  “I need something light enough to carry with me, but with enough power to hit the intended target and inflict damage.” She pointed to a forty-four revolver. “How about that one?”

  Mr. McIntosh handed her the gun but shook his head when it pulled her hand down. “That one will be too heavy, I think. You need something smaller and easier to handle.”

  He glanced at her and the reticule she’d placed on the counter. “Where are you planning to carry the gun? Your pocket or your reticule?”

  “In my reticule.” She held the Colt in her hand and sighted down the barrel. “No, that one won’t do.”

  Surprised by the way she handled the weapon, as though she was familiar with guns, the man studied her a moment. “Have you previously owned a gun?”

  “No, I haven’t owned a gun. I owned three, but I left them behind when I moved here. My father taught me to shoot and we used to shoot targets all the time.” Brianna handed the weapon back to him.

  She tried a few other pistols, but none of them felt right in her hand.

  “I just remembered I have one in the back. Wait here,” Mr. McIntosh said, disappearing through a doorway. He returned carrying a revolver that made Brianna smile.

  “It’s so pretty, Mr. McIntosh.” Admiration filled her face as she studied the gun in his hand. “I’d buy it just for that fact, but I really do need to be able to shoot it.”

  “Give it a try,” he said, holding it out to her. She took it in her hand, pleased with the way it felt — well balanced, not too heavy, yet sturdy enough to get the job done.

  “Tell me why I should purchase this one,” she said, sighting down the barrel then examining the cylinder.

  Mr. McIntosh leaned an elbow on the top of the display case. “It’s a thirty-two caliber center-fire double-action revolver with exhibition-grade engraving. See the beautiful floral scrollwork on the two-stage barrel? It goes across the frame and cylinder. And it’s got that pretty pearl grip on it, like it was made for a beautiful lady like you.”

  Brianna frowned. “Flattery will get you nowhere, but I do like this one. What’s the price?”

  “That one is used, so I’ll let you have it for ten dollars.”

  She shook her head and set the revolver down. “I may be a female but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I’ll give you eight dollars and you’ll throw in a box of cartridges.”

  Mr. McIntosh grinned. “You drive a hard bargain, but it’s a deal.”

  While he wrote out a receipt for her, she dropped five cartridges into the chambers and snapped the cylinder closed.

  “You sure you don’t need a lesson in how to shoot that thing?” Mr. McIntosh asked as she stuffed the gun in her reticule then tried to find somewhere to hide the cartridges.

  “I’m quite certain, sir. Might I prevail upon you to deliver these cartridges to me tomorrow? I’m late for a meeting and would prefer to not carry them with me.”

  “I reckon I can do that for you. Where do you live?”

  She gave him the address of Maggie’s dress shop then hurried to the door. “Thank you, Mr. McIntosh. You’ve been extremely helpful.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Dumont.” He shot her a teasing smile and waggled a finger at her in warning. “Just don’t kill anyone with that.”

  “I only shoot to maim,” she said, suppressing a laugh as his eyes goggled in astonishment.

  No matter what Davis had planned, at least Brianna wouldn’t be completely at his mercy. The man was nothing but a bully and a sissy. She doubted he’d ever handled a weapon of any type. If the situation became dire and she pulled the revolver on him, odds were high that he might faint.

  The thought of him doing such made her giggle as she hurried down the street and up the steps of the hotel.

  Davis sat in the lobby reading the newspaper. He set it aside and glared at her. As he rose to his feet, he pointed to the clock on the wall behind the front desk.

  “You are eighty-six minutes late, my precious. Where have you been?” Davis roughly grasped her elbow and guided her into the dining room.

  The waitress seated them at a table in front of one of the tall windows on a shady side of the building. A welcome breeze blew in, cooling Brianna’s hot face.

  “After returning from town, I was utterly exhausted and needed a rest. I just wanted to look my best for you.” Brianna pretended to dab at tears. “My sincere apologies, Davis. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No. I suppose not.” He gave her a long glance as the waitress set glasses of water on their table.

  After they ate, Davis insisted Brianna join him for a stroll. Normally, he was the one who preferred to stay indoors, so the fact he wanted to go out caught her off guard.

  Together, they made their way down one side of the main thoroughfare, crossed the street and meandered down the other.

  “You’ve yet to invite me to see your apartment, dearest. I’d very much like to see what your rooms above the dress shop are like.”

  Brianna shook her head and slowed her step, since they were nearly to Maggie’s store. “Now, Davis, you know it’s not proper at all for a gentleman to enter
a lady’s living quarters when she lives alone and has no chaperone.”

  “That’s exactly why you’re going to open that door and we’re going to have a little fun.” Davis grabbed her upper arm and propelled her around the corner and into the shadows of the alley.

  “No, Davis. You don’t want to do this,” she said, struggling to get away from him.

  “Believe me, when I say I do. I’ve waited a very long time for this,” he said, pulling her against him and pressing a vile kiss to her lips.

  Struggling against him, she attempted to suck in a gulp of air. Suddenly, he released her. Something sweet smelling covered her face and filled her nose, leaving her groggy and lightheaded right before her world went black.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A sharp pain behind Brianna’s left eye made her wonder if her head might split in two. Slowly opening her eyes, she stared up at the evening sky.

  Disoriented, dizzy and nauseous, she sat up and swallowed. A glance to her side brought her to her knees as she scrambled over to Davis, pressing her hands to his chest. Blood turned the flaxen-colored linen of his suit crimson as it flowed from two wounds.

  Glazed eyes stared at her, full of pain and shock.

  “It’s okay, Davis. Help will come and you’ll be fine,” she said, certain he wouldn’t be fine. No one could sustain wounds such as his or lose that much blood and survive. As her mind regained the ability to function, she wondered how she’d blacked out and who had shot Davis.

  “Book,” he croaked then drew a shuddering final breath.

  “No, Davis! Don’t you dare die!” she screamed. “I don’t want you to die.”

  Tully ran into the alley and slid to a stop at the sight of her hovering over the dead man. As he broke up a fight a block away, he’d heard two gunshots rock through the evening air. Racing toward the sound as fast as he could, he rounded the corner of the alley.

  Brianna’s blood-coated hands and horror-stricken gaze made his heart fall into his boots. Any number of thoughts entered his head, but not one of them proclaimed she was guilty of killing a man. She might not have liked Davis, but she wouldn’t shoot him.

  He hunkered down and placed a hand on her shoulder as tears dripped down her cheeks. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, Tully. He kissed me and I struggled. The next thing I recall is waking up to find him shot. None of it makes sense,” she said, sitting back and staring at her bloodstained gloves.

  Tully picked up a revolver on the ground near Davis. “Have you seen this before?” he asked, showing her the weapon.

  Her eyes widened. “Yes. I bought it this afternoon, before I met Davis for dinner.”

  “Did you plan to shoot him?”

  On the verge of going into shock, she shook her head so forcefully, hairpins fell out and her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. “No, Tully. I didn’t. I wouldn’t shoot to kill even if I had pulled the gun on him. How could you even ask that?”

  Before he could say anything further, the alley filled with people who’d heard the ruckus. Hastily placing himself between the crowd and Brianna, Tully motioned for them all to get back.

  “Someone run fetch Doc, please. And if you see my deputies, send them over,” he asked, hoping to calm everyone. “Please folks, don’t panic. Everything will be fine. If any of you saw anything suspicious, though, come see me at my office tonight or in the morning.”

  The crowd dispersed, although a few lingered, waiting for the doctor to arrive. A few moments later the man did. With his shirt untucked and his collar only half-fastened, Tully assumed Doc had been getting ready for bed when he was summoned.

  It took only a moment for Doc to pronounce Davis dead. Tully knew he was, but wanted an official declaration.

  “Mr. Palmer, would you mind letting the undertaker know about this?” Tully asked the saddle shop owner who often offered his help when it was needed.

  “I’ll go right now,” he said, hurrying down the alley and around the corner.

  Tully sighed in relief when Dugan and Seth both raced into the alley.

  “Holy smokes, boss! What happened?” Dugan asked, taking in Davis’ body as well as Brianna’s bloody hands and dress.

  “Someone shot and killed Mr. Gordon,” Tully said, stating the facts. “Miss Dumont was here with him when I arrived on the scene of the crime.”

  Dugan leaned toward Tully and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You don’t think she did it, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Tully snarled. “But the evidence points to her. It’s her gun that killed him and she was the only one in the alley. Until we find who did it, I have to take her in.”

  Dugan and Seth both stared at him. The two deputies glanced at each other then Seth stepped forward. “We’ll take care of things here until the undertaker arrives. You do what you need to do.”

  “Would one of you send for Maggie and Ian?” Tully shoved the gun that had killed Davis into his pocket then bent down and placed his hands beneath Brianna’s elbows, lifting her to her feet. “Miss Dumont, I need you to come with me.”

  In a daze, she nodded and allowed him to guide her through the alley and behind Maggie’s shop. She tried to stop at the back door, but Tully took a firmer grip on her arm. He knew she needed to clean up, but she couldn’t do it at her apartment. It was far too close to the scene of the crime. “Brianna, darlin’, you have to come with me to the jail. As much as I hate to, I have to hold you as a suspect in Davis’ murder.”

  “What?” Brianna seemed to snap out of her stupor and glared at Tully. “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t even shoot him. Didn’t you listen? I told you what happened. How can you do this to me?”

  “I don’t want to, but I have to uphold the law. If it was anyone else, I’d do the same thing.”

  “Even Maggie, or Jemma?” she asked, feeling sick to her stomach.

  “Even them.” Tully placed a hand to her back and nudged her forward. “Don’t hate me for doing my job. I have to do this.”

  “No, you don’t. You don’t,” she said, leaning against the building and losing the contents of her stomach.

  Tully held her hair out of her face then handed her a handkerchief. As she wiped her face with it, blood smeared across her cheek.

  “You can do this, Fred. You have to,” Tully whispered in her ear. He wrapped an arm around her waist and let her lean on his strength as he walked her along back alleys to the jail.

  Instead of locking her into a cell, he sat her down in a chair by his desk and carefully removed her bloody gloves, placing them in a bag he pulled from a box in a storage cabinet.

  He filled a pitcher full of water from the pump outside and rushed back into his office. After she washed her hands and wiped her face, he poured her a glass of cool water.

  As she sipped it, he studied her ashen skin and the despondent look on her face.

  For the time being, he had to distance himself from his feelings and need to protect her. Whether he liked it or not, he had a job to do.

  If it were anyone else, he would have already shoved them in a cell and locked the door.

  However, he couldn’t do that to Brianna. Not yet.

  The door banged open and Maggie and Ian rushed inside. “What in the world happened?” Maggie asked as she took in Brianna’s shocked state and Tully’s sullen look.

  He motioned for them to step away from Brianna and moved to a corner across the room, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Two shots were fired. I ran into the alley and found her with Davis Gordon’s body. He’d been shot with a gun she purchased this afternoon. She claims she blacked out and when she came to, he was dead. I believe her, but all the evidence points to her being the one to shoot him. It’s going to take time to unravel the truth and I need to keep her safe. The best place to do that is right here.”

  Tully glanced back at Brianna as she sat in morose silence at his desk. “I hate to ask, but can she come to your house long enough to get a bath and change her clot
hes? She has his blood all over her and…”

  Maggie placed a hand on his arm in understanding. “Of course, Tully. We’ll take care of her then bring her back.”

  “I’ll escort her there, get a change of clothes, and bring her back. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t mind having her there since many in town are going to say you harbored a murderer under your roof.”

  Ian scoffed. “Ach, man, I dinna think the lass capable of such madness and neither do ye. She’ll come home with us, for certain.”

  “Perhaps we should go now, while everyone is still somewhat occupied.” Maggie moved toward Brianna and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Brianna, Ian and I are going to take you home so you can clean up. Okay?”

  She nodded her head and rose to her feet, clinging to Maggie’s hand as they walked together to the door where Tully and Ian waited.

  “I can get her there safely, Tully,” Ian said, looking around outside to make sure no one lurked in the shadows. Although Tully hadn’t said anything, he knew the sheriff feared for Brianna’s safety, and rightly so.

  “I trust you, Ian. I’ll get her clothes and be there soon.” Tully motioned for Maggie and Brianna to step outside with Ian.

  He followed them as far as the edge of town then jogged back to Maggie’s shop. Although he had his own key to the place, he hadn’t told Brianna. It would have unsettled her to know he could come and go anytime he pleased.

  Quickly unlocking the door, he rushed upstairs and went to her bedroom. He rifled through her dresses, finally choosing one of her riding skirts and shirtwaists, assuming it would be more comfortable than the fancy clothes she’d brought with her from back east.

  The second dresser drawer he opened contained the items he sought. He wrapped her unmentionables up in the skirt along with the blouse then clomped down the steps and out the door. Before he left, he pulled the spare key from the beam above the door, determined to keep anyone from sneaking in.