He’d given them a home, and though Reid had ultimately betrayed them, Dade wouldn’t trade those early memories for anything.
A flash of deep blue across the street caught his eye. He took a better look at the woman on the other side of the street and scowled.
The feathers on her hat shielded her face, but he remembered that dress and that eye-popping figure. Daisy.
She was walking at a good clip down the boardwalk, head high, firm breasts thrust forward, and hips swaying to a beat that pounded in his blood.
He wasn’t the least bit surprised that male heads were turning her way. But the sudden jealousy that tightened his balls took him by surprise.
Hell’s fire, what was wrong with him? She was his sister, for God’s sake. But what he was feeling for her right now wasn’t the least bit fraternal.
He expected her to slip into the general store, the dress shop, or the milliner’s nook. But she breezed past them and headed for the little house tucked between the bank and the meat market.
Now why in the hell was she visiting Dr. Franklin? Was she sickly?
Worry had him pushing out of his chair. If something was ailing Daisy, he needed to know about it.
Maggie stared at the kindly physician who’d cared for Caroline Nowell for years as well as assumed the duty of company doctor before he’d fallen into ill favor with Harlan Nowell and been dismissed. It was reported he’d left the county, but down deep Maggie had feared he’d suffered a deadly fate.
So when she and Caroline stayed in Placid the last time, they’d been surprised and delighted to discover the doctor had taken up practice here. He’d laughed when they’d told him they were traveling under aliases, but agreed to go along with it.
Now it was imperative that he keep her identity secret.
“Well if it isn’t Maggie Sutten,” Dr. Franklin said, giving her a thorough once over. “Is Miss Nowell with you again?”
She gave the room a quick scrutiny and heaved a sigh to discover they were alone. “Caroline stayed in Burland. Do you recall how she liked to pull spoofs on folks?”
He laughed, a deep rumble of sound that brought a smile to her face. “That I do. If a sense of humor could cure a person, she’d be pain free and walking on her own.”
She couldn’t argue with that–Caroline had such a wonderful attitude, even on those days she was beset with pain. “She thought it would be fun if we assumed different names each time we left the springs. So last time I picked my friend’s name.”
“I remember,” he said, and she nodded. “The sheriff was mighty smitten with you as I recall.”
“He asked for my hand in marriage.”
“So I heard. When you left without enlightening him about your identity, I assumed you weren’t coming back.”
“I promised I would, and here I am.”
His expression turned somber. “You’ve heard about Lester.”
“Mrs. Gant told me everything.” She blinked back the sudden sting of tears over Lester dying far too soon. “Lester was a good man–I’d never met anyone quite like him before, so honest and so sweet. The day we left Placid he proposed marriage, and I almost told him my real name then.”
“He didn’t know?” Doc Franklin asked.
“I couldn’t tell him the truth then, but I intended to do so this time.” Before she told Lester that she couldn’t go through with the wedding. Before she surely broke his heart.
Doc scrubbed a hand over his grizzled face. For all the care he dispensed with compassion, he looked more outlaw than gentleman. But she knew the heart of the man was pure, and she knew about some of the demons that drove him.
“What’ll you do now?” Doc asked. “Return to Burland?”
“No! I’m never going back there.” At least not willingly.
One bushy gray eyebrow squiggled over a discerning hazel eye. “Who are you running from, Maggie?”
“Whit Ramsey.”
“Harlan Nowell’s partner?”
“One and the same,” she said.
“Why? What did he do to you? Or should I ask what have you done to him?”
She smiled at that. Doc was one of the few who knew about and applauded her spunk.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time. You want coffee?”
“Please.”
She followed the stoop-shouldered man to the kitchen in the back of the house. He poured two cups of strong coffee and added a generous splash of whiskey to his own.
“Don’t have any milk but there’s sugar if you’re so inclined.”
Maggie added one lump and took a chair across from the doctor. She wasn’t entirely sure where to begin.
“How is Caroline?” he asked.
A sad smile tugged at her mouth. “She had a bad winter, in pain more than not. But she didn’t complain.”
He attempted to flex the gnarled fingers on one hand. “Like me, she’s learned that complaining doesn’t make the arthritis any better or worse.”
Maggie felt the same about the mess she was in. Complaining solved nothing.
“Now tell me why you are running from Whit Ramsey.”
She took a sip of coffee and welcomed the jolt to her senses. “Did you know that when silver prices plummeted in the early seventies, Whit’s father was the man who stepped in and kept Harlan Nowell from going bankrupt?”
“I knew, but it was an uneasy partnership from the start.”
She suspected as much. “Whit’s father and Harlan made a verbal agreement to blend the families in marriage.”
“I’d heard rumors,” Doc said. “I hoped Nowell would come to his senses and find a way to break the agreement.”
“He did,” Maggie said. “At Christmas, Harlan told Whit that Caroline’s condition was worsening and that the doctor said she’d never be able to bear a child.”
Doc whistled. “Extreme and I trust a lie, but Caroline deserves a man who’ll care for her instead of being part of a business arrangement.”
Maggie felt the same, but her foster sister had seemed hurt when Whit bowed to her father’s wishes. “According to Harlan Nowell, Whit was more than glad to be released from that obligation.”
“Interesting that Whit didn’t put up a fuss over breaking the contract that would bind the families.”
Her gaze locked on Doc’s questioning eyes. “Oh, he fussed plenty. Instead of Whit having to marry Caroline, Harlan offered me to him instead.”
Doc grimaced before taking a sip of his coffee. “You refused, I hope.”
“Staunchly, so Harlan kept me under lock and key and made it clear I would marry Whit Ramsey.”
Doc stared at her, as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. “He intended to force you to marry this man?”
“Yes.” Maggie was sure he’d have stopped at nothing to get her compliance. And if that failed, he’d have resorted to other unsavory means.
Doc smacked both gnarled hands on the table. “That’s goddamned barbaric! When is the wedding supposed to take place?”
“Last Saturday, and before you ask, I escaped before dawn that day.”
She sucked in a shaky breath, reliving the fear and anxiety that dogged her as Caroline helped her make her escape while it was still dark. She’d been on the run since, traveling from one small town to another to get here.
“Well now, I imagine that caused quite a stir when the bride disappeared on him,” Doc said.
“That’s what I’m afraid of and the reason why I assumed an alias,” she said. “A lot depended on that marriage going through. He’ll come after me.”
“The change of name will slow him down.” But the look Doc passed her way warned that it wouldn’t stop Whit Ramsey. “Did you know that Logan is the name of the new sheriff?”
“We’ve met.” She sighed, wondering if she’d ever be free to relax again. “It’s such a muddle. Daisy was my friend on the orphan train, the one who couldn’t remember anything of her past. They said she was like m
e, without kin. Not so. I was shocked to learn that the new sheriff is her brother.”
“Damn. So Logan knows you’re not his sister.”
“Actually he thinks I am.” She swallowed hard. “Though it’s wrong to let him go on believing it, I couldn’t tell him the truth. I can’t dare to let anyone know.” At least not now. Maybe not ever.
Doc made a face. “Because of Nowell?”
She nodded. “Any sage advice on how to disappear?”
“Depends on what you’re willing to do.”
Deceit didn’t set well with her. But she so wanted to be free. To live her life. But would that ever be possible?
“You said I had a talent for nursing,” she said, and he nodded in agreement. “I thought maybe you’d know of a hospital that would hire me.”
Doc frowned at that, and she held her breath for fear he’d changed his mind. “Don’t know for sure, but Mullanphy Hospital in St. Louis is always looking for good workers. I might be able to get you started there as an apprentice nurse.”
“Oh, thank you so much.”
She grasped the doctor’s hands that were stiff and bent with arthritis. He’d shared this with her foster sister. He knew what lay in store for a young woman suffering with the crippling malady.
Caroline. God, how she missed her. Was her pain great or tolerable today? Had her father found a suitable companion to assist her?
“You sure that’s what you want to do?” Doc asked.
“It’s a good career,” she said honestly. “Besides, Whit wouldn’t dream of looking for me in a hospital.”
He bobbed his shaggy head. “All right, Maggie, I’ll–”
“Daisy,” she interjected, as the doctor’s front door opened.
“Daisy?” Dade Logan asked. “I saw you come in here some time back. You all right?”
She lifted widened eyes to Doc, praying he’d go along with her lie in front of Dade. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Come on back to the kitchen, sheriff,” Doc said, though the invite was unnecessary because the tall handsome lawman filled the doorway a heartbeat later. “Help yourself to coffee.”
Dade stayed where he was and looked from the doctor to her. The concern in his warm brown eyes stirred awake the guilt she’d tried to ignore. What she would give to have kin that cared that much about her…
But she was totally alone.
Guilt was an emotion she couldn’t afford to foster. Not for abandoning Caroline. Not for lying to this man.
She simply couldn’t risk telling him the truth. No, that was something she’d let Doc do once she’d left here.
The sooner that could happen the better for her. Hopefully one day Dade would find his sister.
Dade pushed from the doorway and helped himself to coffee, his blue cambric shirt going tight across his shoulders as he did the simple task.
A tingle of awareness went through her. She’d be beside herself with joy if she had a man who cared for her instead of one who simply wanted to use her as a brood mare.
Doc shifted in the chair and winced. “I guess I’m the slow one in town, for I never connected Daisy here with the sister you’ve been looking for.”
Dade hiked one shoulder. “Logan is a common enough name.”
“That it is.” Doc pushed back in his chair. “So where’s your family from?”
“West Virginia,” Dade said. “I barely remember it outside of it being real green.”
“Pretty country. You got any kin back there?”
“None that I know of.” Dade paid undo attention to his coffee. “Only family I have is Daisy.”
Which of course made her feel worse for deceiving him. But then his being a lawman might goad him to get word to Whit.
The experience she’d had with men of late hadn’t been good, outside of the friendship she’d formed with Doc Franklin and Lester. Any ties to family were just as questionable, beginning with her own family.
She’d been told that when her grandmother died, her aunt wouldn’t take her in. She barely remembered the cross woman. What had happened to her mother? What kind of person would turn out a child? And what were the chances of a child finding two such families?
Maggie hoped that was a rarity, for she wouldn’t wish her own kin on her enemy, nor would she give a sterling recommendation to the first family that had taken her in.They’d treated her well enough before their daughter’s death, but afterward…
Well, they had shuttled her back to the orphanage without any explanation. She’d gone from feeling loved to despised.
At least she’d known where she’d stood with the Nowells from the start. They’d made it clear that she wouldn’t be a part of their family. She was Caroline’s companion.
And yet Harlan Nowell decided that she would take Caroline’s place and marry Whit Ramsey.
“Forgive me for my rudeness but I need to send off a telegram today,” Doc said, slipping her a telling look.
She got to her feet immediately. The sooner he contacted the hospital in St. Louis, the sooner she’d be on her way there and to a new life.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she said.
Doc nodded, his expression dutifully solemn. They’d said all that needed to be said before Dade Logan arrived.
She left Doc Franklin’s house, very much aware that Dade was beside her. That was a new experience in itself. She’d never been this close to such a big, powerful man before but she took note of his smallest details.
She’d been in Dade’s company for only an hour or so, yet she was aware of so many little things about him. The breadth of his shoulders covered in soft cambric. The measured surety of his long-legged gait.
The unique blend of strong soap and spice that was Dade’s scent enveloped her. That slow tingle of awareness of him as a man left her skin pebbled.
She’d love to take a stroll with this man and let her senses soar. But there was risk in being out in the open where Harlan Nowell or Whit could happen upon her.
“Come over to the jail so we can talk in private,” he said.
Spending time alone with him would be expected of reunited siblings, but it was the worst thing she could do because she was drawn to Dade. And goodness, hadn’t they said all that had to be said this morning? What more could he want to talk about?
She dreaded to guess. Had he seen through her ruse so soon? If that was the case, it was better if she found out now so she could make her escape.
“This sounds serious,” she said and planted on a smile meant to put them both at ease.
He didn’t return the gesture. “It is, but it’s something you have to hear from me.”
Worry settled into her bones as he escorted her across the hard-packed street. Her instincts bade her to run, but she knew she’d not get far from Dade Logan.
No, he was as dangerous as a loaded gun with a hair trigger. He had to be handled very carefully.
He opened the door with “Jail” painted on the upper glass pane and motioned her inside. A shiver zinged between her shoulder blades as she complied, bringing back the fear and desperation that had consumed her whenever Harlan Nowell locked her in her room.
That man had been so sure a locked door would hold her when she’d balked at marrying Whit. If not for Caroline, she’d likely be Whit’s unwilling wife right now.
The door shut with a firm click, and the sense of being trapped nearly had her trembling.
“There’s coffee on the stove,” Dade said, his boot heels rapping out a slow steady cadence as he crossed to his desk.
He dropped his wide brimmed black hat on the worn surface, took a seat in the oak chair, and leaned back, the chair creaking in protest. He threaded his fingers through his wealth of warm brown hair and stacked his boot heels on the desk at the same time, the movement so masculinely arousing that she could do nothing but stare. He was the most assured man she’d ever met.
A man’s man who made his way in this world by his own cunning and courage. A man who wouldn’t fo
rce his will or his attentions on a woman.
He lifted discerning brown eyes to hers. “Something wrong?”
Yes, she was attracted to him and didn’t know how to slam the door on those feelings. Certainly a sister shouldn’t be looking at a brother the way she feared she was doing.
“I’m just a bit weary from my trip. Maybe we should put off our talk until later,” she said.
“This can’t wait.”
“Then I suggest you speak your mind,” she said, and dropped onto the lone chair with as much grace as she could muster.
He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, and she sensed he was as uncomfortable as she felt. But was he unnerved because of being alone with her, or was he uneasy about this urgent matter he felt compelled to discuss with her right now?
“You really don’t remember our family?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
He dipped the firm set of his chin and pointed to the wall. “Take a look then.”
Frowning, she focused on the array of wanted posters as unease tied her stomach in knots. None of the sketches or photographs were familiar. Just what was he trying to tell her?
On the second pass scanning the posters, she caught the name that stiffened her in her chair. Not just on one poster. No, her assumed surname was on three of them.
She turned to Dade, and the disgust hardening his features confirmed her fear. Still she asked, “The Logan Gang are our relatives?”
“Clete is our pa. His brothers Brice and Seth are our uncles and the only living kin I know of.”
Good heavens. She’d never suspected she’d tie herself to outlaws by using her friend’s name. She looked from the posters to the tin star pinned on Dade Logan’s broad chest.
“Do the folks around here know?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Hell no, and I aim to keep it that way. But I’ll be honest with you. I’m worried they’ll get wind that I’m the sheriff here and come calling and not in a social way.”
She went still as his meaning sank in. “You’re afraid they’ll attempt to rob the bank?”
“Yep. Considering the disregard our kin showed us as children, I don’t see them treating either of us with any kindness now.” His eyes held a desire for retribution that made her go cold inside. “It’d be like them to challenge me–see if blood is thicker than water.”
In a Cowboy’s Arms Page 3
