"When she's not spending time with our esteemed marshal," Reginald had the nerve to remark.
"You're not encouragin' the marshal, are ya, Lacey?" Paul Smith asked in a pathetic whine of a voice.
There was a long pause as everyone perked their ears to catch her answer. She sighed, smiled, and said, "We're partners."
Matthew stared at her in shock. In fact, a tree could have fallen on his head at that moment and he wouldn't have felt a thing.
"Partners?" somebody shouted.
"What in the hell are you talkin’ about?" Matthew demanded.
"Oh, now," she said, smiling and giving him a playful nudge with her elbow, "don't be shy. I told you it's a brilliant plan."
"Did you, now,” he remarked darkly.
"What plan?" Paul Smith demanded.
Matthew's sentiments exactly.
"The marshal has devised an ingenious plan to find the money that was stolen from the bank yesterday morning."
Reginald Sterling chuckled skeptically. "Really?"
"What's that got to do with you?" Reed Baxter demanded.
"I am going to help him."
Matthew closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for patience.
"She is?" Larry whispered to him.
Reginald Sterling broke into laughter. "It sounds like our marshal is getting a little desperate. He needs a woman to help him.”
"Let's hear the plan," someone called out.
"Yes," Matthew said, smiling tightly at her, "let's hear it."
"Oh, it is so brilliant," Miss Guarder prefaced. "The marshal is going to put me in jail with the Rawlins brothers."
"Oh God, shoot me now," Matthew groaned.
"His brilliant plan is to arrest you?" Sterling mocked. "Well, why didn't I think of that!"
The crowd broke into laughter again, and Matthew wanted to crawl back into bed and start the day over.
"He'll arrest her over my dead body," Hazel stated.
"Matthew Brady, how could you even be thinkin' such' a thing?" Nettie O'Rourke demanded.
Matthew's store of patience evaporated in that moment. His deputies' lead on Lorraine Rawlins that morning had turned out to be false, he was still hitting a brick wall when it came to getting any information out of her brothers, and now he was having to deal, once again, with Miss Lacey Guarder. Meanwhile that money was getting farther and farther away, and he was beginning to wonder why he didn't just climb up onto his horse and ride the hell back to California where he belonged.
Lacey Guarder was frowning. "It's a perfect plan!" she shouted above the din. The men immediately quieted, not to listen to what she had to say, Matthew suspected, but because they were still interested in starting something up with her and didn't think it would be wise to be impolite. "He arrests me," she continued, "and I sit in a cell and complain to the Rawlins brothers about how miserable this town is. About how low-down, stinking, filthy, pathetic, and dastardly its marshal is," she said with a pointed look Matthew's way. "And slowly but surely they'll start to commiserate."
"What’s…commiserate?" someone asked.
"We'll start swapping stories," she clarified. "I can practically guarantee you that I’ll get them to tell me where their sister is before you've got even half of that sap and mud scraped off you."
It was the craziest idea Matthew had ever heard in his life. Crazy enough to possibly work, if the Rawlins brothers didn't chew her up and spit her out before she had a chance to open her pretty little mouth.
"That is the most preposterous idea I have ever heard," Reginald stated. "And I absolutely forbid it to take place in my town."
Well, that certainly sold Matthew on the idea. "You want to give it a try?" he said to Miss Guarder. "I'll give you one hour with ‘em."
"Matthew!" Hazel exclaimed. "Lacey, are you sure about this?"
"Sounds to me like the idea's got merit," George agreed.
"I said I forbid it!" Reginald called out. "This poor young woman has no idea what she'll be subjecting herself to."
"We're behind ya one hundred percent, Marshal!" Paul Smith shouted.
"Yeah. I think she can do it!" Reed Baxter agreed. "And I'll get a bath and meet her at the restaurant when she's finished," he added with a bright smile.
Matthew scowled at the lumberjack.
"Coming, Marshal?" Miss Guarder lifted the hem of her skirt and marched past him toward his office.
Matthew's intention was to follow along behind her, but his gaze landed on the shapely calves she was showing off above her ankle-high boots. The sight stopped him in his tracks. The crowd had fallen silent. He turned to see every male eye glued to what he'd just been admiring so avidly himself. A twinge of irritation pulled at his stomach. He didn't like the idea of them ogling her legs. He didn't like the idea of them accosting her in the street. And he downright despised the notion of any one of them cleaning up to vie for her attentions. All this for a woman he didn't even like.
He was losing his mind.
Chapter 7
In the jailhouse, Lacey took off her coat and gloves and hung them on a peg by the door. Then she turned to the marshal and held out her wrists. "Lock me up."
“I should do a whole lot more than that," he stated angrily. "Just what the hell did you think you were doin’ out there?"
Lacey gave him an impatient stare. Things would go much more smoothly if he would just check his ego at the door and give her a little credit so she could get her mission over with already. "What's the problem now, Marshal?"
“The problem?” he growled. “Let me explain the situation to you, Miss Guarder. I have two criminals locked up in a cell back there, and they aren't exactly friendly. In fact, I’m bettin’ they can chew you up and spit ya out faster than you can say Abraham Lincoln.”
"They'd choke on me first," she shot back.
"That wouldn't surprise me either."
"You do have more than one cell back there, don't you?" Lacey asked.
"I wouldn't be agreein’ to this if I didn't."
He was agreeing? Her heart leapt. “Then, I’ll be perfectly safe—”
Reginald Sterling burst into the office with one of the marshal's deputies fast on his heels. "This, sir, is an outrage!" the man blustered. "You cannot allow this woman to risk life and limb for the sake of our fair town! As the mayor, I cannot permit—”
"Back off, Reggie,” Lacey interjected.
"Good lady," the man persisted, "those two men are depraved. They are uncultured, uncivilized, vulgar heathens.”
"Vulgar?" Lacey repeated breathlessly. "Oh my, my, my.” She fanned her face dramatically. “You mean they might curse at me?"
The marshal grunted. “I'm sure they’ll come up with somethin’ a little more creative than curses.”
“Give me the opportunity to speak with them," Reginald demanded. "I will make them see reason—"
"We've tried man to man," the marshal broke in, "it's gotten us nowhere."
“For crying out loud,” Lacey replied. “I won’t even be in the same cell with them. I don't understand what you guys are getting so worked up about."
"Them gettin' their hands on ya is the least of our worries, ma'am," the deputy explained. "A man don't have ta…well, he don’t have ta touch a woman ta…ta…” Flustered, he gave up.
"What Larry is trippin’ all over himself to say," the marshal clarified, "is that a man can violate a woman in a number of ways without actually havin’ to touch her.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine.”
"Lady.” The deputy shook his head. “You are plumb outta your mind."
"And the marshal has lost his!" Reginald interjected. “Marshal Brady, I insist—"
"Shut up, Reggie," the marshal interjected. He reached out and took a rough grip on Lacey’s arm.
Lacey’s breath caught in her chest and she instinctively tried to wrench herself free of him. He pulled her close, until she could feel his warm breath on her lips. “You wanna do this or not?” he
demanded.
His grip, though tight, wasn’t painful, and Lacey realized it was part of the charade. She concentrated on that instead of the usual panic.
He walked her toward the cell-room door and paused. “You sure about this?”
She gave him a curt nod. It was all she could manage at the moment.
“Then let’s make it look good."
He threw open the door and pulled her into the cold, bare room. Two scraggly looking men instantly came to attention in the cell to the right. "Got some company for you, boys," he announced.
"Well, all right!" the smaller man shouted.
The other rattled their cell door. "Bring her on in here!"
"She'll be spendin’ a hour or two back here with you boys as punishment for stealin’ hats from the general store." He led Lacey in to the cell on the left, separated from the other cell by only a thin set of flat wrought-iron bars, and sat her down on the cot against the far left wall. "You keep away from those bars," he whispered to her.
"Hats?" she hissed back. "You couldn't come up with something a little more sinister?"
He gave her a hard look. “You’ve got one hour.”
“Whoo wee?” the smaller man called. “She is a looker!”
“Yer breakin’ my heart, purty lady. Why don’t ya put her in here, marshal, so’s the three of us kin get better acquainted?”
The men certainly weren't hiding their enthusiasm to have her in the back room with them, and Lacey hoped she wasn’t being over confident in thinking she could pull this off.
"You boys be nice, now.” With a final glance her way, the marshal turned and left the cell room, banging the office door closed behind him.
"Sweet as cream, Marshal,” one of the men muttered.
The other grinned at her. “Pleasant as a flow’r.”
Lacey leaned her head back against the brick and mortar wall behind her and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, imagined the best angle to take on the role she was about to play, and then settled into it.
When she sat up, two pairs of beady green eyes were leering back at her and she knew in an instant that these two men were capable of anything. The woman in her cringed, but the actress in her smiled. She loved a good challenge.
Both men eagerly licked their lips and slipped their arms through the shared wall of bars that separated the two cells. "Well, now," the taller man said. "Whatever shall we do to entertain ourselves this evenin’, Ned?"
"I got me some ideas," the smaller man jeered.
The other let out a deep, gritty laugh. "How do you think she likes it, Ned?
"I dunno, Henry. Let's ask her.”
"How 'bout it, honey?" Henry reached down and began fumbling with the buttons on the front of his pants. "You wanna look inta my eyes, or would you rather offer yourself up like a hungry little she-cat against these bars, here?”
Lacey watched them both with an unconcerned expression, though she had a strong impulse to gag. She'd never seen two more ugly men in her life. Mission or not, Marshal Matt was going to owe her big time for this.
She’d have one chance to get them both under her thumb—one chance, or one entire hour of hell. Knowing the best defense was always a good offense, Lacey did the very last thing the two men expected: she stood, and began unbuttoning the front of her dress.
The men immediately stopped fumbling with the fronts of their pants and frowned at her through their thick, black beards. "What’s she doin'?" Ned whispered to his brother.
"Hell if I know," Henry said.
Lacey paused on her fifth button. "You don't like your women naked? Well, I can do it dressed, I suppose. I'll stay warmer that way, anyway."
They both gave her a look that said she'd clearly lost her mind. Her dress front had to have fifty buttons from neckline to waist and she was wearing her new long underwear underneath, so it wasn't as if she'd exposed herself to them. No, the simple action of going along with the men, instead of curling up into a terrified ball in the corner, had apparently taken the wind right out of their sails—so to speak.
Well, that was easy, she thought. Ned and Henry were just bullies, plain and simple, and bullies operated within a very specific framework: no fear, no fun. All Lacey had to do was keep her cool and refuse to react to whatever they chose to throw at her, and she would have the upper hand.
The taller man, Henry, narrowed his eyes. "What kinda woman are you?"
Lacey sighed and began buttoning her dress. “Guess it’ll be a boring evening after all."
"You're new in town, ain't ya?" Ned stated.
"And I'll be yesterday's news as soon as I get out of this cell," Lacey grumbled.
This statement seemed to pique their interest. “You got somethin' against our fair town?” Henry asked.
"Other than it's the most pathetic place I've ever wandered into? That marshal arrested me for stealing one lousy hat! I've stolen horses, money, jewels, and here I am in jail over a hat. You’d think he had better things to do with his time.”
Henry snorted. “Not in this town.”
"Shee-it,” Ned interjected. “Marshal Brady wouldn't let an ant steal a crumb at a picnic, let alone let poor souls like us make a decent livin’.”
Lacey shook her head. "I don't know how you boys stand it." Ignoring the marshal's warning, she stood and ambled toward the center bars, careful to stay just out of arm’s reach. “The name’s Lacey, by the way. And who might you two fine fellows be?"
"Henry Rawlins," the taller man returned. “This here's my little brother Ned."
"Nice to meet you both. I wish it were over a strong drink and a game of cards."
Both men grunted and nodded in agreement.
“And what minor offense did you two commit to get yourselves thrown in here?"
Ned snorted. “We let ourselves get talked inta somethin—”
Henry gave his brother a sharp jab with his elbow. "We robbed the city bank,” he answered for him.
"I was gettin' to that part," Ned grumbled, rubbing his injured arm.
They were talked into the robbery? Lacey thought. She covered her surprise with a sly smile. "I take it your plan went awry?"
"Awry? Hell, we got away with five thousand dollars," Henry answered proudly.
Lacey let out a low whistle. "Impressive. But it looks to me like 'got away' isn't exactly accurate.”
"We might not have got away," Ned told her, "but the money did." He exchanged a grin with his brother. "And we’ll be keepin’ it."
"As well you should," Lacey said with feigned admiration. "You boys risked your lives for it. I say it's yours, fair and square. But…”
"But what?" Henry demanded, scowling.
"But how are you going to protect it if you're stuck in here?"
"We gave it to somebody for safe-keepin’,” Ned informed her.
Lacey frowned at some imaginary dirt under her fingernails. “Somebody you can trust, I hope."
“Oh, we can trust her," Henry asserted. "She wouldn't dare double-cross us."
"As opposed to other parties," Ned grumbled.
Henry threw him a dark look. "He ain't double-crossed us," he stated in a harsh whisper.
“We been in jail for two days," Ned retorted in a tight, low voice. "I'd call that a double-cross. One word and he's in here right beside us."
"One word and we'll never get outta here!" Henry shot back.
Lacey cleared her throat.
Remembering she was in the room, both men smiled hesitantly at her. She gave them her best smile back. There was definitely more going on with this bank robbery than the good marshal was aware.
"Ya know, I ain't seen you around these parts before,” Ned stated. “Where’d you say you was from?"
"California," she answered.
“That explains it," Henry replied.
Ned nodded in agreement. "A different breed a human-bein' runs down south."
"Tough as nails," Ned piped up. "Like Bill Longley."
"And
Clay Allison," his brother added.
"And Billy the Kid,” Ned threw in.
Ned had said that last name with such open admiration, that Lacey couldn't resist playing just one more card. “Billy? I’m his sister.” She flashed them a proud smile.
Ned's gaze widened. He broke into a worshipful grin. "His sister?”
But Henry wasn't so quick to believe. "I never heard of the kid havin’ a sister," he said with narrowed green eyes.
"His half-sister, anyway.” Lacey shrugged. "We share a father."
"So that's where you got that red hair," Ned put in, still grinning stupidly.
"Billy the Kid doesn't ride in California," Henry stated.
Lacey gave him an affronted glare. "I said I was his sister," she replied sharply, "not his partner. I make my own way in this world."
Her brisk retort seemed to mollify Henry, but Lacey reminded herself to tread carefully.
"So what are you doing all the way up here in Washington Territory?" There was a new light of admiration in Ned’s eyes.
She thought quickly. “Heading for Canada.”
“For the gold?" he asked.
“Right, the gold.” Thank you very much for the story. "I hear there's a fortune to be made."
"If pannin's your thing," Henry remarked.
Lacey smiled slyly. "Who said anything about pannin’ for it?"
Ned laughed and, after a moment, so did Henry. "Aw, hell, Henry, it's too bad she's headed north. This town could use a woman like her."
"She is a hoot, ain't she?"
"Now what would you boys do with a woman like me underfoot all the time?"
Henry’s eyes darkened. “Under my feet ain't where you'd be spendin’ most a yer time.”
Ned snickered. Lacey threw up a little in her mouth at the idea, but she knew if she balked at their crudities she’d loose the upper hand. She leaned closer and whispered, "I've got it real bad for dark bearded men with sparkly green eyes."
Both men's jaws slackened. "Maybe…” Ned began. He paused, swallowing thickly. "Maybe we could think up some way to keep her around, Henry."
"Maybe," Henry agreed. His eyes were riveted to the curves of her body through the outline of her dress.
DESTINY'S EMBRACE Page 10
