The Sheriffs of Savage Wells

by Sarah M. Eden

“I like checkers.” Andrew crossed to the desk, his limp more pronounced than it had been recently. The coming of winter always seemed to make that worse.

  Andrew tended to hover at the edges of rooms, when he was willing to enter at all. He didn’t usually move closer to people. And though he was still obviously worried about their safety now that winter had arrived, he wasn’t panicking. That was almost miraculous.

  Cade moved to the occupied cell. “Dinner’ll be in about an hour, then lights out,” he told the prisoner.

  “Wouldn’t want to waste kerosene on a prisoner,” Burton spat.

  Cade shrugged. “Mostly, I just don’t want to see your face.”

  Paisley moved to Cade’s side. “Could I have a word?”

  “Come to shoot me again?” Burton grumbled.

  “Once a day is my limit with most people,” Paisley answered.

  Cade’s expression remained hard and unyielding. “Pull a gun on me again, Burton, and you’ll discover I don’t have a daily limit.”

  “I was aiming for her,” Burton growled.

  “And yet,” Paisley said, “of the two of us, only you got shot.” She motioned Cade into the back room. “I—”

  “He meant to shoot you?” He closed the back room door. “If I’d known that—” He paced away. “I don’t like the idea of scum like that threatening you.”

  “He’s not the first.” She laughed a little at his indignation. “Did you think I wore my gun belt because I preferred it to jewelry?”

  He shook his head. “What does Gideon have to say about it all? The threats and the danger?”

  What did Gideon have to do with any of this? “He generally says, ‘Don’t get shot.’”

  Cade kept up his tense pacing. Did this really upset him so much? No one had ever shown that much concern for her, not since Papa’s mind began to slip.

  Paisley stopped Cade’s pacing with a hand on his arm. “I don’t have a lot of talents, but I am good with a gun. I realize that isn’t a very feminine skill, but I’m proud of it.”

  “You should be. You shoot better than any man I’ve ever known.”

  She wasn’t about to let that compliment pass without rubbing it in a bit. “Better than you?”

  “Well, I don’t know about that.” His tone was gruff, but the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement.

  “I wanted to thank you for spending time with Papa. Most people either ignore him or talk to him like he’s a child, and—” She swallowed against an unexpected lump of emotion. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who sees the person he still is underneath it all. He did a fine job running the bank, no matter what Mr. Lewis says. He only had to step down because his mind grew ill.”

  He slipped his hand in hers and squeezed her fingers. “He’s welcome any time.”

  “Thank you.” She pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

  Her heart leapt at the brief contact. She knew she ought to pull back and place a friendly distance between them, but somehow she couldn’t. His free hand brushed her waist, settling low on her back. Her lungs squeezed tight—not a drop of air came in or out.

  She met his deep blue eyes. He looked confused, almost displeased. Did he not want her to be near him? To embrace him? She still remembered their kiss outside the town council room and how melting it had been. Three weeks had passed since then, with only brief, occasional contact. What she wouldn’t give to have that connection back again, even for an instant.

  But he’d only looked less welcoming of her attentions. She let her hands drop away from him.

  He stepped around her stiffly. “I’ll go check on Andrew and your father.” He didn’t glance back, but left as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. Why was it that kept happening to her?

  She’d loved Joshua, and he’d run out on her. She’d made the acquaintance of scores of bachelors in Savage Wells, and nothing had come of any of it. Those disappointments had certainly stung, but the ache she felt standing there after Cade had left the room was surprisingly acute. He was a good man, she saw more evidence of it all the time. She longed for his company and hoped to earn his good opinion.

  She’d begun loving Cade, those early droplets of love that either led to a storm or petered out into nothing, though one could never tell early on which it would be. He, on the other hand, seemed to be putting distance between them with all possible haste.

  “What the blue blazes are you doing in a backwater town like this?” Marshal Hawking fingered a length of ribbon tied to the cell bars. “You’re a legend, Cade, and you’ve settled in Savage Wells? You must be bored plumb out of your mind here.”

  “Well, Hawk, after a decade mucking out the dirtiest towns of the West, I’d say I’ve earned a touch of boredom.” He leaned back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head.

  “While I was dropping a fugitive off at the territorial prison in Laramie, I heard a rumor that one of the candidates for sheriff of this place was a woman.” Hawk let the ribbon drop. “The inmates were convinced it was true, but—” He shook his head as if to toss aside the very idea and secured the cuffs around Burton’s wrists.

  “That woman put the bullet through your prisoner’s arm,” Cade said.

  Hawk’s brows rose. “Did she?”

  “And she’s the one who rounded up the Grantland Gang, though the ‘official’ sheriff at the time took credit for it. I’ve gone over the records, and I’d wager most of the work done here the past six months was done by her, including catching a stage robber, smoking out a fugitive hiding on the edge of town, and capturing Burton the first time.” He let that sink in a minute.

  Hawk’s expression changed from surprised to impressed. He made a thoughtful sound. “Well, since she didn’t end up becoming sheriff, perhaps she ought to consider bounty hunting.”

  Paisley chasing down the most violent of killers in the country? The idea tied his stomach in knots.

  “You think I’d have a future in it?” Paisley asked from the doorway.

  When had she come in?

  “Are you the sharpshooter that took this lowlife down?” Hawk asked.

  “Both times.” She sauntered in; something in her swagger was equal parts rugged and alluring.

  Hawk’s mouth tipped in appreciation as he watched Paisley approach.

  Cade dropped his relaxed posture and sat more rigidly in his chair, watching Hawk watch Paisley.

  “Paisley Bell.” She held out her hand.

  “Marshal Hawking.” He shook her hand just as he would have done with a fellow lawman.

  Cade ought to have appreciated the respectful gesture—Paisley certainly did—but instead found himself resisting the urge to growl. He’d need to warn Hawk that Gideon was there before him—before both of them.

  “Obviously you have good aim,” Hawk said. “How quick is your draw?”

  “Ask Cade, there. He saw it in action a few days ago.”

  Hawk looked at him. Honesty compelled him to answer. “Lightning fast.”

  “Cool head in a crisis?” Hawk asked her.

  “Usually,” Paisley replied. “The only time I can ever say it faltered was when my father went missing. But I bucked up.”

  “I’d like to see your credentials, Miss Bell,” Hawk said. “Cade, here, had quite a lot to say in your favor. Seems to me you’d make a fine bounty hunter or even a deputy marshal.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If you’re patronizing me, I swear—”

  Hawk held his hands up in a show of innocence. “I do know of one lady bounty hunter,” he said. “And she’s a deucedly good one.”

  “Does it pay well?”

  The infuriating woman seemed serious.

  Hawk shrugged. “Depending on who you catch.”

  “And depending on whether or not you get yourself killed catchin’ him,” Cade added. “Now can w
e get this scum outta my jail?” He jerked his thumb in Burton’s direction.

  “Sure enough.” Hawk sent Paisley one more smile before returning to the business at hand. They had Burton out of the cell and out of the jailhouse in a flash. Once the prisoner was secured in the wagon that Hawk and his deputy marshal would be hauling him away in, Hawk turned to Cade, who stood in the doorway.

  “Good seeing you again. If the peace and quiet of this place gets to be too much for you, send word. The offer to join the marshals still stands. We could use a man with your skills and experience.”

  Paisley stepped out alongside Hawk and the two engaged in a quick conversation. Cade couldn’t make out what they said to each other, but he had a guess as to the topic.

  Hawk and his deputy rode off down the street with its drifts of snow in the shadows and thick mud down the middle. Cade didn’t envy them the ride to Laramie.

  Paisley stood on the porch, watching the wagon lumber away from town. Was she really considering Hawk’s suggestion? She certainly seemed to be.

  “Bounty hunting?” Cade tossed out. “Are you full mad, woman?”

  She didn’t flinch. “It’d pay a far sight better than washing windows.”

  “It pays a lot because so few people live to collect the bounties.”

  She leaned against the doorway, unimpressed by his logic. “Not a lot of Western sheriffs live long, either, Cade, and you didn’t raise an objection when I was considering that job.”

  “This is Savage Wells, for land’s sake. This place is a cakewalk compared to the rest of the West.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Marshal Hawking seemed to think I could handle it.”

  “He was flirtin’ with you, love.”

  “Hawking said he wasn’t fooling with me,” she insisted. “And you said yourself I could shoot as good as any man you’ve ever known.”

  He stepped past her into the jail. “It ain’t a matter of ability.”

  She followed him inside. “Then what? I know I wasn’t entirely levelheaded when my father disappeared, but I’m good in a crisis otherwise.”

  “Bounty hunting ain’t like keeping the peace.” Cade shoved at the desk chair with his boot. “It’s chasing down murderers for the price on their heads. It’s lurking in shadows, knowing you might have to kill them to keep them from killing you.”

  “If it came to that—”

  “Have you ever killed a man, Paisley?”

  “Well, no. I haven’t had to.”

  He met her gaze, needing her to understand what he was saying. “It changes you. That first time, you never forget. Or the second, or third. It’s a weight on your soul.”

  She watched him intently but didn’t speak. He had to make her understand the nature of what she was contemplating.

  “You’re a good shot and you’ve a cool head, but putting holes in ­people strictly for money would turn you into someone cold and sick inside.”

  “Did you ever put holes in people strictly for money?” She stepped closer, her gaze never wavering.

  He sat on the edge of the desk. “Are you saying I’m cold and sick inside?”

  “Not at all.” She stopped directly in front of him. “Your objection sounded personal.”

  “Not personal on my account.” He took her hand in his. “I’ve seen what killing does to people. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  “If I didn’t know better, Cade O’Brien, I’d think you cared about me.”

  He did. Heaven help him, he did. In that moment, even thoughts of Gideon’s position couldn’t force Cade to release Paisley’s hand. Maybe he was a terrible friend. More likely, his feelings for Paisley were simply deeper than he’d been letting himself acknowledge. Either way, he held fast to her hand, relishing the moment he knew would be all too brief.

  “I’m sorry you’re stuck washing windows and serving meals rather than doing what you love.” He caressed her hand as he spoke. “But I’ve seen good people take the path you’re contemplating, and I know what being a gun for hire turned them into.”

  “Were you ever a bounty hunter?” she asked.

  “That’s one thing I’ve kept my hands clean of.” He dropped his gaze to their entwined fingers.

  “You talk like you’re ashamed of the things you’ve done.”

  He didn’t look up at her. “I’m no saint, I’ll say that much.”

  “But you’re a decent sort of person,” she said.

  He closed his eyes at the touch of her fingers along his cheek. “A decent sort, am I? You accused me recently of kissing you as part of a strategy.”

  “Did you?”

  “That you even need to ask tells me a heap.” And it wasn’t at all flattering. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted to and because he’d thought she’d wanted that as well. But his conscience had stopped him every time since. He didn’t really know where her heart lay. Until he did, things had to stay merely friendly between them.

  “I never know what to think about men,” she said quietly. “They’ve been breaking their word to me for years.”

  That Joshua bloke, no doubt. Perhaps others. She deserved better than that. She deserved someone who treasured her and admired her.

  “Paisley, I—”

  A voice interrupted. “Pardon me, I’m looking for the bank.”

  Cade shot a glare toward the door. A sharply dressed man stood a single step inside the door. “Why’re you looking for the bank, stranger? Do you have business there?”

  “I’m the new teller.”

  Ah, yes. Lewis had said he’d be arriving this week ahead of the money delivery. “Delancey, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Paisley stiffened and spun around. The stranger’s mouth dropped open. Paisley’s expression turned shocked.

  “Good heavens,” she whispered, staring. “Joshua.”

  Paisley couldn’t entirely think straight.

  Joshua Delancey was in Savage Wells. He was standing right there in front of her. Joshua, the first man she’d ever loved. The man who’d wanted to marry her. The man who had walked out on her.

  “Paisley?” He looked as shocked as she felt.

  “Joshua?”

  “Paisley.” The truth seemed to be sinking in.

  “Joshua.”

  From behind her came the addition, “Cade.”

  Her thoughts were jumbled. A weight settled in her stomach. Joshua. After four and a half years, Joshua was right there. But why?

  Joshua stepped up to her and set his hands on her arms. His gaze darted all over her face. “Why are—What are you doing here of all places?”

  “What am I doing here?” She stepped back, forcing his hands to drop from her arms. “You are supposed to be in Omaha.”

  “I was in Omaha,” he said as though that ought to have been obvious. “But you aren’t in Abilene.”

  “We left Abilene four years ago.”

  “You left—?” He shook his head almost impulsively. “I—Wh—” His gaze remained on her face, studying her, watching her, almost caressing her features.

  Too many years and too many broken promises stood in the gap between them for that. “The bank is further down the road,” she said. “You can’t miss it.”

  She kept her composure as she turned to face Cade. His expression was entirely devoid of curiosity, though he must have been wondering about the scene playing out in front of him.

  “I originally came in here looking for Papa.” She forced the change of topic.

  “He and Andrew are boxing up some things for Mrs. Carol.”

  Paisley managed to nod. “Keeping both of them busy is a good idea.”

  She felt the first tears puddle in her eyes. This was no time for an emotional breakdown. She met Cade’s questioning gaze, but no words came. Joshua Dela
ncey stood not ten feet behind her. She made the tiniest gesture of helplessness.

  Cade apparently needed no more than that. He looked over her shoulder. “Bank’s right at the turn in the road, Delancey,” he said. “Lewis is expecting you.”

  “But, Paisley,” Joshua objected. “We need to talk.”

  She didn’t look back at him. “The time for talking passed years ago.”

  “Paisley.”

  Cade cut him off with a raised hand. “If Miss Bell wants to talk, she knows where to find you.”

  Joshua sputtered a moment but eventually accepted the edict. “I hear there’s a hotel in town. I’ll be staying there. Please come by.”

  Paisley kept perfectly still as the sound of Joshua’s footsteps retreated behind her. As silence descended once more, she allowed herself to finally breathe.

  She rubbed at her temples. “Six months I waited for that man to write to me. I actually held out hope for another six months that he’d come back. And now he just casually shows up in my town.”

  She shook her head. She wrapped her arms about her middle and wandered to the front window. The tranquil scene outside contrasted painfully with the turmoil inside her.

  “Why did he have to come here, of all places?” she muttered.

  “Feel free to tell me to go hang, if you must,” Cade said, “but I’m fair dying of curiosity.”

  Soon enough the entire town would be. “This is not a story I have shared with anyone. Not in detail, anyway.”

  “Not even with Gideon?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll not insist you tell me—I know enough of your stubbornness to know that wouldn’t work anyway.” He joined her at the window. “I only thought you might find it helpful talking to someone before you have to talk to him.”

  She ran her fingers along the top of the half-wall as she walked ­absentmindedly away. The Savage Wells rumor mill turned fast and seldom stuck to the facts. She’d rather Cade have the true story from her.

  “Joshua worked as a clerk at my father’s bank in Abilene,” she said. “That’s how I first met him.” She dared a glance at Cade, and pressed forward with her tale. “He paid me special attention. That attention grew to courting. After a few months, he asked for my hand, and we were engaged.”