by B. J Daniels
* * *
DARBY LAY IN his bed staring at the dark ceiling. After his brother left, he’d locked up, turned out the lights and stood in the empty bar alone. He’d known sleep was out given the mixture of emotions roiling through him. He still couldn’t believe they’d almost been robbed.
Not that he hadn’t known it was a possibility with the saloon outside of the town and no other businesses close by. But after all this time, he’d felt safe.
Now he could laugh at that. Safe? He’d hired a pickpocket to work for him. And Lillie was right. He hadn’t been that careful with the other employees either. What did he really know about Billie Dee or Kendall Raines?
He reminded himself that the attempted robbery had nothing to do with any of his employees—including Mariah. Flint had called a little while ago to tell him that the men had been on a crime spree through a half dozen states. Which meant the Stagecoach Saloon robbery had been random.
Random. Like seeing a woman in the crowd at the Chokecherry Festival and falling for her. That was what happened, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that why he hadn’t thrown the bracelet away before he knew anything about it—or forgotten about the woman? Instead, he’d only gotten in deeper.
Tonight he’d thought for sure Mariah was behind the robbery, that she knew the men, that she’d set the whole thing up to get her bracelet back—and clean out his cash register in the process.
Instead, she’d risked her life. He still couldn’t get his head around it. All his suspicions about her—
The throb of a motorcycle engine made him start. The sound was coming closer. He sat up in the bed, still fully dressed, and snapped on the lamp. Holding his breath, he listened.
The engine rumbled to a stop out back and then fell silent. A moment later, he heard her at the back door.
* * *
MARIAH KNOCKED, TELLING herself that he was probably sound asleep. She glanced out at the dark pines swaying in the breeze and felt a chill. Was she really doing this? She felt as if her life, which had been out of her control for so long, had finally gone off the rails. If she did what she was planning—
The door opened, startling her. She swung around to find Darby standing in the doorway, fully dressed. He seemed surprised to see her, but not displeased. Sometimes she forgot how handsome this cowboy was. Just seeing him standing there made her heart beat faster. How easy it would be to fall for this man.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice as soft as his gray eyes.
She shook her head and hugged herself against the cool night. Could she go through with this? She’d done a lot of reckless things in her life—often because she’d been backed into a corner. But this...
“Come on in.” He stepped back to let her into the small area outside the kitchen.
When he reached for a light in the kitchen, she said, “I didn’t want to be alone. Could we...” She glanced upstairs toward the apartment where she knew he lived. He hadn’t even let his sister up there.
Darby hesitated but only for a moment. “Sure. It’s pretty basic. Not much to see.” His gaze locked with hers. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”
She knew what he was telling her. The bracelet wasn’t up there—or at least that’s what he wanted her to believe. “Is there a bed?”
His gray eyes widened. “Mariah—”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she blurted, then looked away embarrassed. She shouldn’t have come here. Every instinct told her this was a mistake. And yet when she’d headed back, she’d driven right by her cabin and headed straight here.
She met his gaze again. “If you could just hold me tonight.” She sounded close to tears. It was no act. She should be used to close calls. She should be used to someone wanting to hurt her. Even kill her. But it was one thing to run from your past. It was another to have complete strangers threaten to harm you.
His gaze was so compassionate that it made her heart ache. “I could do that. Do you want something to drink?”
She shook her head. “I just need...” She didn’t know what she needed. Human contact? Somewhere she felt safe? A little tenderness. Just for tonight. And she knew there was only one place and that was in Darby’s arms—the most dangerous place she could be tonight.
Without another word, he led her up the stairs.
A single light glowed in a corner of the room. She realized that until she’d arrived, he’d been lying up here on his bed, fully clothed with almost all the lights out. She could see by the quilt on the bed where he had been. She knew if she touched it, the spot would still be warm. Like her, he couldn’t sleep.
She told herself it wasn’t too late. She could leave. Should leave. And yet she didn’t. She stood looking around the small sparsely furnished apartment. He was right about having only the basics. He’d done so little, she understood why he wouldn’t let his sister up here. And yet, what was here felt like him.
Darby Cahill didn’t need much to make him happy. It was one reason she liked him so much. She’d known men with fancy cars, expensive suits and shoes, fast-talking men who thought they could buy her. As her gaze came to rest on him, she knew that if she had the chance to choose, she’d pick this unassuming cowboy every time.
“Let me take your jacket,” he said and held out his hand.
She slipped out of it. Exhaustion pulled at her, making her legs weak.
“Here, sit down,” he said as if he saw how hard it was for her to stay on her feet. He started to lead her over to the old recliner, but she knew she’d never make it that far. She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached down to unlace her boots. To her surprise, her fingers trembled and suddenly she was all thumbs.
Darby knelt in front of her and, gently pushing her hands away, slowly unlaced her boots and pulled them off. Her hand went to his cheek, rough with a day’s growth of beard. She felt tears blur her vision.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. She told herself it was because she was exhausted from being on the run for so long. She couldn’t remember ever being this drained. She wiped at the tears. This wasn’t like her and that scared her. She’d learned a long time ago how useless tears were. She shouldn’t even be here. Especially with this man. Especially as vulnerable as she was feeling right now.
“Here,” he said. “Lie back. You’ll be more comfortable without these.” As she did as he said, she felt his fingers on the buttons of her jeans and almost stopped him. He tugged them off, pulled her to her feet and drew down the quilt on the bed. “You’re shivering. Get under the covers.”
For a woman who no longer took orders from men, she found herself doing whatever he told her. She pulled up the sheet. It smelled like the outdoors, reminding her of how her grandmother hung clothes on the old line outside her house. He tucked the heavy, thick quilt up to her chin.
“Could you just hold me?” Her teeth chattered. She knew it wasn’t from the cold. But she couldn’t have said exactly why she was feeling the way she was. Everything was wrong about this in so many ways. She knew the risk she was taking. That she was throwing caution to the wind. If it had been any other man but Darby...
He hesitated. She watched him begin to undress, admiring his strong, lean body from his broad shoulders to his slim hips and long muscled legs. He met her gaze as he got to the point of taking off his jeans.
Without a word, he left them on and climbed into the bed. He pulled her to him. Again she felt hot tears burn her eyes. She snuggled against him, needing his warmth, needing the feel of his strong body. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Then he reached over and turned out the lamp, pitching them into darkness.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
She closed her eyes, soaking in his heat, his strength, his male scent, and let herself have this moment of weakness. “I am now.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LILLIE KNEW HER brother didn’t want her help with his apartment. But she had some extra things that she thought would be nice up there. When she’d moved out, he’d insisted she take everything. Of course, she hadn’t, but she’d only left things she thought he wouldn’t complain about—practical things like a lamp, a television.
Men. Trask was just as bad. He’d been watching her furnish their new house with amusement.
“What?” she’d demanded one day when she caught him leaning against the doorjamb smiling and looking bemused.
“Nothing. Maybe I just like watching you do your thing.”
“My thing?”
The strong, handsome cowboy looked a little flustered. “You know, arrange those pillows on the couch. You’ve moved them a dozen times and finally put them back exactly like they were to begin with.”
She jammed her hands on her hips and looked indignant. “You think this is easy?” she’d demanded.
He’d instantly held up his hands in surrender. “No. It looks damned hard to me.” He was trying so hard to be supportive that finally she’d sighed.
“I want everything to be perfect.”
Trask had stepped to her and taken her in his arms. “Everything is perfect, darlin’.” She’d nodded against his chest. “We could live in the barn and I’d be happy.”
That was exactly the problem with men, she thought this morning as she parked at the side of the saloon and got out. Especially cowboys. They could live in a barn and be perfectly happy—even sharing it with their horse.
As she turned the corner to the back of the building, she stopped abruptly. Mariah’s motorcycle was parked next to her brother’s pickup.
Lillie blinked. All this time she’d been trying to get them together, they’d already been together? She grinned, happy and excited for her brother, and yet, a little annoyed. This was so like him, keeping this from her. She’d just bet money this had started at the Chokecherry Festival. They’d both been there, even though they’d pretended they hadn’t met. It also explained why he’d hired the woman the way he had.
Just then the back door opened and out came Mariah. She hurried to her bike, but she didn’t start it. Instead, she rolled it toward the road, finally hopping on and coasting for a ways before she cranked up the engine and left.
Lillie couldn’t help but laugh. Her brother’s little secret was out. Not that she was about to tell anyone. She could well imagine the fun Hawk and Cyrus would have razzing him about it. No, she’d keep his secret. She’d wanted someone for her brother for so long, she was smiling as she let herself into the back door of the saloon and raced up the stairs.
* * *
“HARP, I’M WARNING YOU,” Flint said to his deputy. “One more complaint about you—”
“Ever since you became sheriff, you’ve had it out for me,” Harper Cole complained. “I never hear you warning any of the other deputies.”
“The other deputies just do their jobs and keep their noses clean,” Flint said. “If you want to stay on this force—”
Harp scoffed at that. “You and I both know you can’t fire me.” His father was the mayor, as if Harp ever let him forget that.
“I wouldn’t bet on that if I were you. One more complaint.” He pointed to the door. “Now get out of here.”
There were days when he couldn’t stand the sight of the arrogant deputy who thought he was much better than he was. All he could hope was that Harp didn’t mess up so badly that innocent people were hurt or killed. He felt as if it was only a matter of time before Harp did something so stupid, so irresponsible...
Flint shook his head and looked outside as Harp left. It was a beautiful summer morning, the sun glistening off the mountains. Gilt Edge was surrounded by four mountain ranges—the Moccasins, Judiths, Snowies and Little Belts—often making it a snow hole in the winter. But in the summer, there was no place more pleasant.
He loved living in a small town in the middle of Montana most days. Gilt Edge was like a lot of small, Montana towns that weren’t close to a larger city. It had the basics: a grocery store, a post office, a couple of gas stations, a clothing store, a hair salon and barbershop, a hardware store, a lumber yard and several restaurants and motels—a hospital too. It didn’t have a stoplight. Its big box store was actually a small version of a big box store.
Anyone who needed more than that could either shop online or drive the two-hundred-and-fifty-mile round trip to Billings, the largest city in Montana.
What Gilt Edge didn’t have was much crime, which made Sheriff Flint Cahill’s job easy most days. Not that his office wasn’t busy with all kinds of complaints. But most were minor disagreements that could be settled without incident.
So it worried him that the town was changing, given the rash of break-ins, the robbery at the Stagecoach Saloon and that one of the county residents was still missing. Jenna Holloway had gotten into an altercation with her husband, Anvil, on their farm outside of town and left. Anvil said that after twenty-four years of marriage she had confessed to an affair and left. When she didn’t return by the next morning, he’d called Flint.
In the four months since she’d disappeared, her car had turned up in a tree-filled gully. It had also come out that she had been writing to male prisoners at Montana State Prison and she’d apparently taken up shoplifting and stealing money from her grocery budget.
What hadn’t turned up was Jenna—or her body. Nor had Flint found her alleged lover. The state crime investigators hadn’t had much luck either. But the case stayed on the books as a missing person case. And like the other crimes, it kept his mind off his love life. Or lack of one. At least while he was working. It was much harder at night. That’s why he worked late most nights.
What he didn’t like about living in a small town—and another reason he worked late—was that it was next to impossible not to run into your ex. Seeing Celeste the other day had left him in a funk. Somehow he often crossed paths with her while he never saw Maggie—not even in passing.
He thought about calling her, as he had so many other times. But the last time they’d seen each other, Maggie had made it clear that she didn’t want to see him anymore because of Celeste. He really didn’t know how to deal with that.
Unfortunately, Celeste still lived here and he couldn’t promise she wouldn’t be a problem in the future. He’d never been able to do anything about the woman when they’d been married. What made him—or Maggie—think he had any sway with her now that they were divorced?
He spent the morning finishing up the paperwork on the two would-be robbers he had behind bars. Since they were wanted in so many states, it would be a nightmare to get everything processed.
Meanwhile, there’d been another break-in. He had the names of the three girls who’d purchased the expensive tennis shoes locally. That wasn’t to say that there hadn’t been someone else who’d bought them online. But since two of the three girls were best friends, he wanted to talk to them first.
He called and set up appointments with the parents, though he refused to tell them exactly why. Of course both parents were suspicious, saying “Whatever this is about, my daughter had nothing to do with it.” Many parents were insistent like that even when the evidence was staring them in the face.
First thing this morning, he’d sent the glass Mariah Ayers had been drinking from to the lab to have the fingerprints run. Darby seemed sure that she wasn’t involved in any way. Flint thought he was probably right, given what he’d learned about the two robbers and their history.
But he was curious about the woman. And it wouldn’t hurt to check her out—and clear her, if possible, for his brother’s sake. He got the feeling that there was more going on between the two of them.
He’d been about to check with the lab when his undersheriff Mark Ramirez knocked at his door.
“There’s been another break-in.”
* * *
DARBY CAME OUT of a deep, dark sleep as his door flew open. He sat up abruptly and blinked. First at his sister framed in the doorway and then at the empty spot next to him on his bed.
“So you heard,” he said, lying back against the pillow as he watched his sister look around the apartment with both disbelief and horror before she finally settled her shocked gaze on him. “I should have called you, but it was so late.”
She came into the room looking both surprised and strangely happy. “You were going to call me?” She sounded touched that he would do that.
He frowned. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upset me? I’m not upset. I’m delighted.”
He looked at her smiling face, his frown deepening. “You’re delighted the saloon was almost robbed last night?”
“What?” she cried, sitting down on the side of the bed that Mariah had apparently recently vacated because he could still feel her warmth.
“Do we really have to get into this now? What time it is anyway?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Wait a minute,” he said, looking at his sister. “What were you delighted about?”
“Mariah. I just saw her leave. You thought you could keep that a secret from me?”
He groaned. “Sorry, sis, but it isn’t what you think.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think she spent the night here and probably has before.”
Darby shook his head. It was too early in the morning after a very late, stressful and strange night. Mariah showing up at his apartment... “Call Flint. He’ll fill you in on the attempted robbery. I’m going back to sleep.” He rolled over and pulled the quilt up.
“Seriously?” she cried.
He felt her get up off the bed. He said nothing, hoping she would go away. He must have been dreaming.
“I’m going to go downstairs and make a pot of coffee,” she said in a way that told him sleep was out of the question. “Then I am going to bring two mugs up here and you are going to tell me everything. Everything.”
