by Micki Miller
As if the dog actually understood what she was saying, he relaxed a bit. However, he did keep his watchful, brown eyes on Garrett.
With one raised brow, Garrett said, “Frank?”
“I named him after my father.” Penny rubbed the dog under his chin and laid her cheek against his big neck. “He’s very, very brave.”
Noticing the bandage around the dog’s back leg, Garrett asked, “What happened to him?”
“He was shot in the leg.”
“You shot him? Damn, woman, I said you were a menace with that gun!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t shoot Frank. Bentley did.”
“Bentley?” Garrett said, as a cold feeling suddenly crawled up his spine.
Penny nodded, her head tipped toward the dog. “Yes, Bentley. Frank here saved my life. Why, if this heroic dog hadn’t come along, well, Bentley was going to…he’d nearly…” Penny turned her face into the dog’s fur, hugging him with trembling arms as it all caught up with her. Frank bent his head and licked her hand.
“Penny,” Garrett said with quiet prodding. “Tell me what happened.”
And so she did. Near the end of her telling, she turned to face him. That was when Garrett saw the swelling on her cheekbone, a bruise already coming to color. His teeth ground together and his hands balled up into tight fists in anticipation of what he was going to do to Bentley Werner once he caught up with him. He’d not get away with this.
When Penny finished her story, Garrett had the urge for a comforting lick to the hand from Frank, with a whiskey chaser. His calm demeanor was a façade. Inside he was raging a temper the likes of which were unequalled by anything he’d ever felt before. Oh, yes. Bentley would pay.
“Are you all right?” he asked when he could trust himself to speak without his fury showing through.
“Yes,” Penny answered while stroking the dog’s fur as if it was a talisman. “Thanks to Frank here, I am.” After a quiet sigh, she bent her head so it rested against Frank’s neck. “Since all the documents are legal, signed by my father, Bentley now has my house and all of my assets as well.”
“What he did was deceptive, especially in light of what’s happened since those papers were signed. He’s a criminal, a killer, and a swindler. I know a good lawyer who can help you set things right.”
“Thank you,” Penny said, though her dispirited tone reflected her doubt. She sat up and scratched Frank behind his ears. “Certainly Bentley will deny everything he said. He only told me because he was sure I wouldn’t be alive to repeat it.”
Without realizing it, Garrett’s fingertips brushed the butt of his gun. Just thinking about Bentley having his hands on her, moments away from killing her, and the horrible thing he would have done to her first, had him envisioning Bentley in his sights. He didn’t want to shoot that waste of human skin, though. He wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp.
Garrett looked over at the dog and wanted to buy him dinner at the nicest restaurant in town. The dog was looking at him, too. His solemn brown eyes appeared rife with noble intellect. An understanding passed between them, as they sat as equals upon their horses. Garrett was grateful, and it was as if the dog fully comprehended that fact. Frank’s ears perked up. His shaggy tail wagged, and Garrett could swear a smile played at the curve of the dog’s long mouth. Garrett let his hand drift over, slow, unthreatening, and gave the dog a scratch. Frank rewarded him with one of his loving licks.
Back to business, Garrett turned to Penny. “I’ll arrest Bentley right along with Cotter. Cotter will testify against him, and you won’t have anything to worry about.”
Penny looked at him then. “Do you think he’ll do that?”
“If it means going to prison as opposed to the gallows, he will.” Of course, he’d have to catch up to them before Bentley killed Cotter, which was certainly his plan. Probably it had been all along. After what Bentley had done, with all he had to lose if Cotter talked, Garrett figured killing the outlaw had been in Bentley’s plan from the start. Before he could do his job, though, he had to see to Penny’s safety.
“Oh,” Penny said, slipping a hand into her pocket and taking out Bentley’s gun. She handed it over to Garrett. “Bentley dropped this. It’ll be much easier to catch him now that he’s not armed.”
“Penny, we’ve already been over this.”
“I’m going after them, too,” she said, her stubbornness showing through. “I think I’ve proven you can’t stop me. Besides, I need that reward money now more than ever. Even if you’re right about what a lawyer can do, he won’t work free, and I’ll need money to live on in the meantime. As you said, I won’t get one penny of the reward money if you catch him before I do. So listen, I have a plan.”
“I can’t wait to hear it,” Garrett mumbled.
Annoyed at his sarcastic tone, yet nevertheless undaunted, Penny said, “You go after Bentley, and we’ll catch Zeke Cotter.”
“We?”
“Frank and me. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Garrett Kincaid. Frank has proven himself to be a worthy partner.”
“Penny, I’m not going to argue this.”
“Neither am I.”
“Look what just happened.” His voice rose. “It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s a lot less dangerous now. Not only do I have my Winchester, as I’ve just pointed out, I have Frank. He’s the best protector in the world.” She turned apologetic eyes up to the marshal’s then. “Not that you aren’t very good, too, Garrett,” she added.
“Thanks,” Garrett said, disgruntled over the way she placed his ability to protect her second behind a dog. The fact that so far the dog had done a better job chafed the insult sore. He turned his scowl toward Frank who sat tall and regal in the saddle, as if fully knowing his worth. Garrett released a conceding sigh. The dog had saved Penny from a terrible fate. It didn’t change things, but he was indebted to the animal.
The dog actually lifted his scruffy chin, and Garrett could swear Frank looked down his long nose at him. He would have laughed at the arrogant beast if the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“Before we go,” Penny said, bending around to look at Frank’s face, slanting only a brief look in Garrett’s direction before turning back to the dog. “Frank and I both need a moment of privacy.”
Garrett dismounted while trying not to smile at her discreet way of making her needs known. If he smiled, she might think all was well, and it wasn’t, so he kept a tight face. He took the dog, careful of the animal’s injury, and squatted until Frank’s paws were on the ground. Even though she didn’t need his assistance, Garrett put his hands around Penny’s waist and helped her dismount, holding on longer than necessary. He set her down on those fancy shoes that were a comical incongruity to her raggedy, hand-me-down outfit. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget how she looked in that getup. He damn near gave in to a smile again.
The feel of her narrow waist in his hands gave him an inexplicable joy. Relief probably inspired that, he figured. He’d been worried sick since awakening to discover she’d run off. Just moments ago, after what Penny told him about Bentley, he’d been furious. Since then, as if it had been so long ago, she’d butted heads with him, vexed him with her stubbornness, and now she had him wanting to smile like a silly schoolboy. This woman constantly sent his emotions every which way.
As he watched her walking into the woods on her low-heeled shoes, her boy’s trousers snug on the enticing roundness of her hips that swayed with womanly grace, that mangy, heroic dog trotting along beside her; it occurred to Garrett a man could lose his balance with a woman like her. Yes, he most surely could.
It was just a few days ago, he’d been thinking about settling down with a nice, stable woman. That was only minutes before he met her. What he’d envisioned was not Penny Wills, with her headstrong ways and her willfulness. Damn it, though. He stared across the greening, sun-flecked meadow. It was certainly her now. How could he fall for a woman who seemed hell-bent on makin
g him crazy?
He remembered his father once saying something about losing his balance when dealing with his mother. They’d had an argument. Garrett had been about eleven or twelve. When he asked his father what was the matter, he said sometimes that woman made him lose his balance. Then suddenly, Garrett clearly remembered, his father’s anger was gone. His father and mother looked at each other across the table where she’d been rolling out dough, and they both busted out laughing. Then he hugged her and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Garrett still remembered her flour handprints on his father’s back. All he’d thought at the time was that his parents could be silly to the point of embarrassment in their love for each other. And that he couldn’t imagine ever getting that daffy over a woman.
Yanking off his hat, Garrett shook his head. That was more than enough of this nonsense. Once this situation was finished, he could figure out what he was going to do about Penny. Right now, he had serious business before him, and he had to get his brain in order. Garrett slapped his hat back on his head and paced the wild meadow.
While his mind worked, he glanced off toward the woods. Penny was right about one thing; she wouldn’t be cowed into following his orders. His mother would appreciate that kind of fortitude. Maybe he would too, in another circumstance. Right now, he needed her to submit to his command. She wouldn’t, though. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. The woman was stubborn enough to do what she wanted and he couldn’t take the chance of her running off again. He wouldn’t.
Garrett was going to have to take drastic action. She was going to be mad as a pestered hornet, but he didn’t care. He had to protect her, and he sure as hell wasn’t going through the kind of frantic worry he had today. Especially now that he knew not only was Cotter a danger to her, Bentley was, too.
Garrett reclaimed her Winchester, took it over to his horse, and secured it with his things. He then rummaged around in one of his saddlebags for the item he was going to need. As he held it in his hand, he stood torn between a wry grin and utter dread. His feelings didn’t matter, though. Penny’s safety did. He took a few steps toward the woods and stopped, feet planted, hands behind his back, and he waited.
A minute or so later, Penny walked out, her trusty dog beside her. The dog’s tail wagged in time with his steps. Only a slight limp showed he had any discomfort. Garrett’s expression must have given him away because her face grew suspicious as she approached and her steps slowed.
“Penelope Wills,” Garrett said in his professional voice.
“Yes,” she answered, stopping in a field of caution.
Stepping right up to her, he said, “I’m placing you in protective custody.”
“What does that mean?”
With movements that were both rapid and efficient, Garrett had the rope wrapped around her waist. Fortunately, Penny’s attitude toward him had relaxed Frank enough so he could do it without upsetting the dog. In fact, the animal hopped around a little, barking once in a playful matter, as if they were all enjoying some sort of game.
“It means for your own good you aren’t leaving my sight.”
“What! What are you doing? Stop that!” she said, swatting uselessly at his hands.
Once he secured the knot at her belly, Garrett scooped Penny up in his arms and carried her to her horse. He dropped her in the saddle and then tied the other end of the rope around the pommel of his own saddle.
“Are you…is this like…like you’re arresting me?”
“Like.”
She gave the rope a hard tug, but the knot was too secure to budge. “Cut this rope off of me, right this instant!”
“No.”
“You can’t do this!”
Without a trace of regret, Garrett said, “Yes, I can.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Not entirely.”
He handed the dog up to her, who settled into his place before her in the saddle. She then turned a hostile glare on him. When she opened her mouth to argue, he met her glare with his own. “Penny, Zeke Cotter wouldn’t think twice about shooting down a woman, and you already know Bentley Werner wants to kill you, especially now. Hell, he confessed to you what he did. You could send him to the gallows, at the very least, to prison. As far as the reward goes, well, I am sorry about that. I have some money put away. I can help you.”
“I don’t want your money or your help! Untie me, you, you tyrant!”
“No,” Garrett said and he climbed in his saddle. “And stop trying to untie that knot. I’m being nice. It would be easier for me if I just used the handcuffs.”
“Handcuffs! You wouldn’t dare!” She plucked at the knot with vicious swipes, then, out of frustration, yanked at the rope a couple of times, all to no avail. At the sound of clinking iron, she swung her head toward Garrett.
He had her attention now, dangling the iron cuffs in front of her. “I would, and I will. Don’t push me, Penny. This is for your own good.”
Her chest heaved, and she stared daggers at him. “I hate you, Garrett Kincaid.”
He turned away from her and got the horses moving. Slipping the handcuffs into his coat pocket, he said, “At least you’ll be alive to hate me.”
Neither of them spoke another word until they rode into the town of West Bend. It was larger than Mill’s Creek, but hardly a city. It had what they needed, though. Garrett gave the place a cursory glance as he brought the horses to a stop in front of the Sunbird Hotel. The white paint on the boards was fresh. Past the lace curtains fastened back from the front window, he could see the lobby was neat, furnished with a tufted, blue sofa and two chairs with curled, wooden armrests. The pieces sat in neat order atop a colorful braided rug. Beyond was the tall desk where they would check in. It looked to be a respectable establishment. Of course…
He turned his head to look at the trussed up woman in boy’s clothing beside him. Walking into a hotel lobby with a woman tethered on the end of a rope and a dog that was not, well, wasn’t at all respectable. From the look on Penny’s face, she was having the same thought.
After setting Frank on the ground, Garrett helped Penny down from her horse. Clearly, she was furious with him again, or still, because she kicked at him twice in the process. The first one missed, but her second effort landed the toe of her fancy boot against his hip.
“Stop that,” he ordered, giving her a little shake.
“Then cut this rope, you, you savage.”
“No,” he said, and then, tugging on the rope, led her toward the steps of the hotel.
She dug her heels into the dirt and heaved back on the rope before shouting in a hushed voice, “You can’t possibly walk me in there on a leash.”
“Can I trust you to do as you’re told?”
“I am not your servant!”
“No, you’re my prisoner.”
“Your…You said I was in protective custody. I’ve committed no crime.”
“You just assaulted a U.S. Marshal.”
“I did no such thing!”
“I’m going to have a bruise on my hip where you just kicked me.”
She gasped. “I was defending myself. That doesn’t count.”
“It counts,” he said, tugging on the rope again, hard enough to force her to trail along behind him. Her steps were loud as she stomped in protest up the wooden stairs. They entered the lobby of the hotel with her muttering something about dim-witted savages. The dog wagged his tail in broad swishes as he trotted along beside Garrett, apparently taking no offence to the way he’d bound Penny. Maybe Frank understood his reasoning better than Penny did. Garrett liked that dog more and more.
At the desk, a neat, narrow man with dark slicked back hair and a long nose greeted them.
“We need a room,” Garrett told him.
“Two,” Penny said.
“One,” Garrett told the clerk. At her horrified look, he added, “One with a privacy screen.” This didn’t mollify her in the least. Her mouth hung open and her eyes sharpened in anger.
>
The man squinted at Penny, took in her unusual appearance, not hiding his surprise at the rope tied around her waist. He followed it to Garrett’s hand. Garrett opened his coat to show his badge.
“She’s my prisoner,” Garrett said.
“I most certainly am not!”
Without looking at her, he said to the man behind the desk, “She is.”
The clerk leaned toward Garrett and whispered, “Is she dangerous?”
Penny gasped. “No, I’m not dangerous!”
“Don’t worry,” Garrett assured the clerk. “I’ll keep her restrained.”
Penny turned a glare on him so fierce he felt it all the way to his funny bone.
Tipping his head toward Frank, the clerk said, “We don’t take dogs here, sir.”
“The dog is an eye witness. He’s in protective custody.”
“Oh, I’m a prisoner, but the dog is in protective custody!” Penny yelled, her temper overrunning decorum.
“His name is Frank,” Garrett said, flicking a glance toward Penny.
“I know his name,” she bit out, looking like she wanted to bite Garrett. “I named him.”
“She does have a temper, doesn’t she?” the clerk said.
“That she does.”
The clerk looked at Frank again. “Well, if the dog is in your protective custody, I suppose we could make an exception.”
“You ask if I’m dangerous, but not the dog?” Penny asked, her outrage now directed at the clerk.
The clerk looked in askance to the marshal.
Garrett said, “The dog’s not dangerous. He’s a victim.” After a beat, Garrett added, “Too.”
“Too?” Penny said, louder than necessary.
Garrett rubbed his hip, his expression overly pained.
Penny crossed her arms. “Oh, for goodness sakes.”
The clerk stretched up on his toes and gave Frank a good once over. His eye paused at the bandage wrapped around the dog’s hind leg.
“Oh, the poor thing,” he said, and then inflicted Penny with a look of scathing disapproval. “I had a wonderfully loyal dog when I was a boy. I don’t hold much with people who abuse animals.”
