Kitabı oku: «Whirlwind Groom», sayfa 2

“I— You can just put them on the bed.” Her voice was breathy.

Davis Lee walked over to the neatly made bed that was pushed into the far corner of the room. Two lengths of fabric, one white and one calico, were folded neatly at its foot. He laid the new bolts next to them.

The room was bigger than most of the others in the hotel, but not grand by any means. On the wall beside the bed was a plain dressing table with a wall mirror and washbasin. A waist-high dresser backed against the wall across from the foot of the bed. The middle and right side of the room was empty except for a length of calico spread across the floor. A pair of scissors lay on top as if her cutting had been interrupted. A chair sat at the partially open window facing town.

He didn’t have to walk over there to confirm that she had a clear and close view of the jail, but he did. A short lacy curtain hung at the top of the window and he ducked his head to keep it out of his eyes. Yep, sure enough, this window provided a direct view to the jail. And anyone going in or out.

“Uh, thank you for bringing the fabric. You certainly didn’t have to do that. I’m sure you have things you need to get back to.”

The shimmer of unease in her voice had him leaning one shoulder against the window frame as if he had all day to spend. So far he hadn’t seen anything in here except fabric and furniture. And her. “You gettin’ settled in?”

“Yes.” She offered him a tentative smile, staying over by the door.

Her gaze dropped to his badge and he got the distinct impression she was wishing him gone. “Penn said you changed rooms.”

“I— Yes.” She gave a stiff laugh. “I wouldn’t think that would merit him giving a report to the sheriff.”

“He just mentioned it. Any reason why he shouldn’t?”

Her gaze searched his, her fingers tangling in the folds of her skirt. “Of course not.”

He hooked a thumb into the front pocket of his trousers. “Interesting that you would want to move.”

“I don’t know why.” She shrugged, leaving the door to walk over and snatch a lavender ribbon from the top of the dresser. She pulled her hair back and secured it with jerky movements.

He tried to ignore the way her bodice pulled taut across her breasts. “It’s noisier in this part of the hotel.”

Her chin angled slightly. He had obviously come for a reason besides delivering her fabric. “I like noise.”

“You’ve got a view of the whole town from here.” His gaze slid down her body then back up, his eyes glinting.

Under his hot scrutiny, her pulse hitched. “I—I like to have something to look at while I’m working.”

He stroked his chin. “Like me.”

“I did not change rooms to watch you!”

He grinned and she felt a slow pull in her belly. “I meant I like to have a view while I’m working, too.”

“Oh.” Heat flushed her face. The man flustered her six ways to Sunday. And he was entirely too amused.

She wanted to get his handsome self out of here. “I hardly see what you find so fascinating about the whole subject.”

“Don’t you?” he asked softly.

That set off a flurry of panic in her stomach and it wasn’t due strictly to the fact that he might know the real reason she had moved into a room overlooking the jail.

Curling her fingers into her damp palms, she asked tartly, “Is changing hotel rooms against the law, Sheriff? Are you planning to haul me to jail?”

His gaze moved slowly, leisurely over her as if he found the prospect appealing. “If I did, I’d have to put you in a cell next to my prisoner. Which wouldn’t be good.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” She bit back the temper that threatened, her nerves snapping. She moved to the open door, not caring if she appeared rude. “If that’s all, I really have a lot of work to do.”

He started toward her, moving with a smooth grace for such a large man. His gaze swept the fabric that lay on the floor, then the bed. “It appears you’ll be busy for quite a while.”

“Yes,” she murmured, her hand tight on the doorknob.

He definitely unsettled her. She told herself it was because of the suspicion in his eyes. Not because they were alone in her room with only a deaf old man downstairs if she needed help.

Davis Lee stopped at the door, close enough that his shirtsleeve brushed hers. Her fresh scent teased him, bringing to mind the last time he’d purposely gone to a woman’s room. It had been over two years, but not long enough to make him forget how a pretty face and sultry eyes could hide betrayal and lies. “If you need anything, Miz Webster, you just holler out that window. I’m sure I’ll be able to hear you.”

“Yes, all right. Thank you.”

Tension bowed her shoulders and he could feel her urging him out the door. Even though he didn’t like the way his body tightened at her nearness, he grinned and tipped his hat. “Good day, ma’am.”

She mumbled goodbye and nearly closed the door on the heel of his boot.

He gave her door one last look. Yeah, she was definitely up to something.

Three days passed before Josie felt confident enough to make another try at McDougal. Since the sheriff had been to her room, she had been careful to do her spying as discreetly as she could, keeping to the corner of the window.

Holt had changed his schedule, but now that she had this view of the jail, she wasn’t concerned. She could usually tell how long he would stay somewhere depending on where he went. He was wont to linger at the Pearl Restaurant and Ef Gerard’s blacksmithy.

On Saturday afternoon, she stood at the window’s edge, drumming her sewing-sore fingers on the wall of her hotel room as she waited for the sheriff to leave the jail. She had worked from dawn until dark every day to finish the hotel’s curtains and they now hung one story below in the front windows. The length for one tablecloth had been cut, but her mind wasn’t on the task.

There! She saw the sheriff leave the jail and go into the restaurant. She hurried downstairs, wondering where he lived. He didn’t sleep every night at the jail, and on those nights his deputy stayed there. Once outside, she ducked around to the back of the hotel and made her way behind the telegraph and post office, then the Pearl. Rounding the corner of the restaurant, she sidled up the west wall and peered out at the street.

A few people milled about, but Josie didn’t see the sheriff.

She stepped into the open and tried to be casual as she walked to the hitching post in front of the jail where the deputy had left his horse. He had arrived a few minutes before Sheriff Holt left.

The air was pleasantly warm today, but that wasn’t the cause of the dampness forming between her breasts. Pausing as if to admire the bay mare who stood placidly, Josie slid her fingers into the looped reins and loosened the leather before she moved away. She passed two older women then ducked into the alley between the jail and the blacksmithy.

Making sure there was no one nearby, Josie threw a stone and hit the horse square on the hock of its left rear leg. The mare nickered and shied away, pulling the reins loose from the hitching post. Dancing into the street, she trotted off.

A second later, Josie heard the jail door open and bang against the wall. Boots thudded down the wooden steps.

“Dad burn it!”

The young, broad-shouldered deputy whom she’d seen with Whirlwind’s sheriff thundered past her, putting two fingers in his mouth and letting out a shrill whistle. The mare kept going; the man followed.

Josie checked the opposite direction then hurried up the steps and slipped inside the jail. Sheriff Holt’s office smelled faintly of soap and pine. Wood shavings littered the floor around the leg of a wide oak desk.

Her gaze paused on a creased Wanted poster boasting Ian McDougal’s face. The paper was tacked onto an otherwise-blank space of wall behind the desk. Three shotguns lined up behind the glass door of a tall gun cabinet. A door in the opposite corner led into a back room. The cells had to be back there.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she reached into her bodice for the scalpel. Knowing McDougal was only feet away had her throat closing up. Doubt slashed through her. Could she really do this?

She closed her eyes and conjured up the last images she had of her parents and William. Their sightless eyes had been trained on the ceiling of her home. Blood spattered the floor and the door. They had died horribly. Her family deserved justice. Yes, she could do this.

Taking a deep breath and sliding her sweaty palm down to a more comfortable position on the thin, ridged handle, she started toward the raspy whistling coming from the back room. It was McDougal. She knew it.

The murdering bastard was finally going to pay for killing everyone she had loved.

She gripped the scalpel so hard the steel gouged into her palm. All she had to do was get close to him.

She reached the door, her steps faltering at the thought of facing the worthless, no-account cur. She reminded herself of the nearly two years she had spent in the Galveston County sheriff’s office checking every day to see if McDougal had been captured.

Her heartbeat hammering in her ears, she gripped the doorknob.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The now-familiar voice coming from behind her lashed her already-raw nerves and she nearly dropped the scalpel. No! She quickly slipped the blade into the hidden pocket of her bodice and turned with a bright smile on her face, praying Holt couldn’t see her heart banging against her ribs. “Hello, Sheriff. I was looking for you.”

“Is that so?” He pushed his hat back and planted his hands on lean hips. His eyes narrowed as he glanced about the empty room. “Where’s my deputy?”

“No one was here when I came in.” That wasn’t a lie, but still her pulse raced.

“There was a commotion outside so I went to check on it.” He closed the front door and moved toward her, his boots ominously soft on the pine floor. Worn denim sleeked down his long legs. The chambray shirt he wore looked brand-spanking new. “You must have heard it, too.”

“Yes. It sounded like someone was leaving town in a hurry.”

“Weren’t you just the tiniest bit curious about what was going on?”

Oh, dear. He looked fit to be tied. His eyes had turned a dark stormy blue, suspicious and hard. She refused to panic. She’d dealt with this man—this big man—before. And she was prepared this time. “Like I said, I was looking for you.”

“There’s a prisoner back there, Miz Webster.” He inclined his head toward the door behind her. “It’s not a good idea for you to be in here alone.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I guess not.”

Despite the day’s heat, she wished she hadn’t forgotten her gloves. Her hands were clammy and shaking awfully.

“You said you were looking for me?” Holt stepped around her to check the door, once more between her and McDougal.

“Oh, yes.” She cleared her throat. “I wonder if you might know someone who can teach me to shoot?”

“To shoot?”

“Yes. You know, a gun.”

Irritation crossed his features as he moved to stand in front of her again. “I didn’t think you meant a slingshot.”

“Well?” She hoped he would believe she had come to the jail only for this reason.

He crossed his arms and studied her. “I just can’t figure you, Miz Webster.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think your being in my jail has something to do with Ian McDougal.”

“Sheriff!” the prisoner yelled. “What’s going on out there?”

Josie stiffened. She did not want the outlaw to see her. Or know she was here until she chose.

“Just talkin’ to a visitor.” Sheriff Holt edged closer, causing her to step away. “What do you say, Miz Webster?”

“About what?” She could barely get the words out through her tight throat.

“You seem fascinated with my prisoner,” he said softly. “Why is that?”

“I’m not.” She clenched one fist in the folds of her skirt and tried to look curious rather than nervous. “Are you saying your prisoner is one of the McDougal gang? You didn’t tell me that the other day.”

“Don’t recall you askin’, but I think you already know he is.” Holt advanced again, forcing her against the wall. “Are you his sweetheart?”

“No!” The thought made her stomach seize up. She scooted down the wall in front of him, but he shifted his large body, trapping her against the door.

“A relative? His sister maybe?”

“Absolutely not.” How could he think her related to that murdering criminal? “I’ve heard about the things he and his brothers have done. I don’t appreciate being referred to as part of their family.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate being lied to and I think that’s what you’re doing.”

“I never!”

“What were you hiding when I walked in?”

“Hiding? Nothing. I—”

He leaned in and she pressed her shoulder blades flat against the wood at her back. Holt planted a hand on either side of her. “Something up your sleeve? A derringer maybe? A file? Some kind of weapon?”

She struggled to keep her composure though the hard warmth of his body proved very distracting. “Do the ladies you know carry weapons, Sheriff?”

“We’re fixin’ to find out.”

His silky voice did things to her insides that she couldn’t recall having ever experienced with William. “Derringer? I don’t have a gun. I told you I want to learn how to shoot.”

His gaze slid down her body then back up to meet her eyes. “Do you want me to search you?”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I will if you don’t show me what you’ve got hidden.”

“What kind of man are you that you would put your hands on me?”

“The kind who wants an answer,” he said hotly. “Now either show me or I’ll get it myself.”

The thrill that shot through her veins told Josie she did not want this man touching her. She instinctively knew she wouldn’t forget it.

A clanging sounded from the other room. “Sheriff, I’m thirsty.”

“Shut up.” Though Holt spoke to the prisoner, he never took his eyes off Josie.

She realized the noise of metal on metal was the sound of McDougal banging a tin cup or plate against the bars.

The sheriff dipped his head a fraction, his breath soft against her temple. She smelled leather and soap and man. “What’s it gonna be?”

Showing him her scalpel proved nothing, Josie told herself. She angled her chin, hoping he couldn’t see how she trembled all over. “Very well. I do have a weapon. I’ll get it.”

She dipped a hand inside her square-necked gingham bodice.

The sheriff drew back, eyes widening. “What are you doin’?”

“Getting my weapon.” If she weren’t so rattled, she might have laughed at the expression on his face—half anticipation, half stone-cold fear that she might expose herself.

She pulled the blade from between her breasts and saw his eyes darken. Not with curiosity or surprise, but with raw, hot desire. Her stomach did a slow drop to her feet.

“What—” he cleared his throat “—the heck is that?”

The fire in his gaze sent a tingle to her toes and she swallowed hard. “It’s a scalpel.”

“A doctor’s instrument?”

She nodded.

“I thought you said you were a dressmaker.”

“I am.”

He frowned at the weapon’s short silver blade. “You beat all, lady. What are you planning to do with that?”

“Defend myself.” She pressed harder against the door, trying to escape the feel of his lean thighs, the warmth from his body. “My father was a doctor and he taught my mother and me how to use this.”

“Then why do you need to learn how to shoot?”

“With the scalpel, I have to be really close to someone. Like I am to you.”

He eased back slightly, frowning.

She tried not to smile. “But I have no defense if someone were to shoot at me.”

“Just what can you do with that thing?”

“Stab it in someone’s windpipe or eye. If I go deep enough, I can slice into this big vein here.” She touched the side of her neck.

The sheriff eyed the scalpel warily. “You already seem plenty dangerous to me. I’m not sure that you having a gun is a good idea.”

If she had known how to use a gun two years ago, her family might still be alive. “Are you saying you won’t help me find a teacher?”

“Are you saying you’ve decided to make a home in Whirlwind?”

“Uh, yes.” From the excruciatingly slow way her plan was progressing, she would have to. At this rate, she’d be a year older before she ever got to McDougal. “But Whirlwind seems less…civilized than Galveston. I would just feel safer if I knew how to use a gun.”

“And you’re going to open a dressmaker shop?”

She laughed lightly. “That’s the only skill I have.”

Holt stared at her for a long minute, his eyes hooded beneath his hat. “I’ll teach you to shoot.”

“You? But I thought—”

“Change your mind?”

“No.” But maybe she should.

“Then I’ll teach you. I’m good with guns and I can show you the proper way to handle them.”

“Could you give me a lesson every day?” She needed to check on McDougal as often as possible.

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Oh, good. Thank you, Sheriff Holt.” Why was he so willing to help her? Her smile felt overly bright as she realized exactly what their deal meant.

He finally stepped back a few inches. “If we’re going to see each other every day, you should call me Davis Lee.”

“All right.” She wouldn’t. “I’ll see you in the morning then, bright and early.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I’ll be in church. Won’t you?”

She hesitated. She and her parents had regularly attended church in Galveston. It was the one place she had been able to find a small amount of peace after the murders. But she had come here to kill a man. “Church?”

“It’s at the end of Main Street. You can’t miss it.”

“Oh, yes.” She recalled the white frame building with the steeple, and a part of her wanted to be there tomorrow.

“I’ll see you here on Monday then. Make it about six-thirty or seven in the evening. I’ll have to get my other deputy, Jake, to guard the prisoner.”

“All right. Monday.” Tarnation!

She would be spending far more time with the sheriff than she wanted. Despite the opportunity she now had to wheedle information about McDougal out of the lawman, she had the uneasy sense that Holt had agreed to teach her to shoot for the very same reason she had asked—so he could keep an eye on her. She didn’t like that at all.

Chapter Three

W hy in the Sam Hill had Josie Webster been in his jail? Davis Lee was still chewing on that question the next morning during church. He knew exactly how she had managed to wind up in his office the minute he left it. And it was mighty suspicious that Jake’s horse just happened to spook at the same time.

Davis Lee didn’t know what to make of the woman. When she had pulled that scalpel out of her bodice, he’d nearly swallowed his teeth. The last thing he needed was to replay the image of her hand slipping between her breasts. He couldn’t seem to stop it though he tried hard to focus instead on the doubts she raised in him.

Maybe he was suspicious because the first time he had seen Josie, desire had hit him hard and fast. He didn’t trust such raw instant want. It had gotten him in a passel of trouble before and he wasn’t giving in to it again. Still, he spent more time thinking about the intriguing brunette than Reverend Scoggins’s sermon.

Catching her in his jail reinforced Davis Lee’s certainty that she was up to something. Which was why he had gone straight to Ef and gotten a big padlock for McDougal’s cell. One reason—the only reason—he had agreed to teach her to shoot was to see if she was comfortable with guns and knew how to handle them. The woman knew how to use a scalpel, for crying out loud. It was possible she knew how to use a gun, as well.

He had no proof, but he couldn’t shake the feeling she had some connection to McDougal. Her request for shooting lessons had seemed too ready. Prepared almost.

After church he turned around and saw her rising from the back pew. The burn of desire he felt didn’t surprise him, but the relief that she was here and not slipping inside his jail again did.

She stepped outside and started down the stairs, but the reverend stopped her. Keeping an eye on her, Davis Lee moved into the aisle as his brother, Riley, and his wife, Susannah, gathered up their baby. He greeted Cora Wilkes and her brother, Loren Barnes, who had come to Whirlwind about two months ago to help his widowed sister.

From the corner of his eye, Davis Lee saw Josie move down the steps then stop to speak to Pearl Anderson. This time he walked out on the landing and she glanced up. When their gazes locked, he nodded and met her at the bottom.

He greeted Pearl as she walked past him to speak to someone else, but his attention stayed on Josie.

“Sheriff,” she said.

“Davis Lee.” He smiled. The peach dress she wore accentuated her breasts and small waist. The color became her, warming her golden skin and deepening the green of her eyes. He couldn’t help wondering if the deep-cut bodice filled with white pleating hid her scalpel. “Nice to see you, Miz Webster. Did you enjoy the service?”

“Yes, I did. Did you?”

She was about the same height as Susannah, and she was small. A small brown hat circled by a ribbon matching her dress sat jauntily on her head, crowning the mass of hair she’d worn up today. A tiny mole on her collarbone peeked out at him. “Reverend Scoggins always has something good to say.”

A smile curved her lips. “That’s the least committed answer I’ve ever heard, Sheriff.”

He grinned, moving his gaze to her face. “I have to say I’m glad to see you here and not in my jail. Did you come to repent?”

She tilted her head, looking more serious than he’d seen before. “You’re teasing me.”

“Maybe. Are you still interested in your shooting lessons?”

“Oh, yes. I think it’s something I should do.”

“All right, then.”

“You’ll still teach me?”

“Yes.” Having been hornswoggled before, Davis Lee knew he should keep a distance from her, but he needed to find out whatever he could about this woman.

Judging from his experience with her so far, he wouldn’t get far by asking her questions, but he could learn plenty by observing her up close.

“Davis Lee, we’re expecting you for lunch.”

He turned at the sound of his sister-in-law’s voice. “I’m looking forward to it, Susannah. We’re not having biscuits, are we?”

Riley laughed as he walked up with his blond-haired daughter resting happily on his shoulder. Lorelai wasn’t Riley’s blood, but no one could tell him that. Davis Lee had never seen his brother love anyone as much as he loved that little girl and her mother.

“If you two don’t behave, I will cook biscuits,” Susannah said. “And I’ll purposely make them hard as rocks.”

Davis Lee chuckled. He liked his sister-in-law more every time he was around her. She and Riley had been married only about five months. For a while Davis Lee had wondered if the two hardheaded idiots would ever realize their feelings for one another.

Thanks to her brother, a pregnant Susannah had come to Whirlwind under the impression that Riley wanted to marry her, but he hadn’t been the least bit interested. At first.

Davis Lee felt Josie step away and he turned to her. “Y’all need to meet one of our newest citizens. This is Josie Webster. Miz Webster, this is my brother Riley and his wife, Susannah.”

“And our daughter, Lorelai.” Susannah touched the baby’s back with one hand as she shook Josie’s hand warmly with the other. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello.” Josie gave a soft smile.

Riley smiled. “Have you just arrived in town?”

“About a week ago.”

Davis Lee noticed she told the truth easily on that point. “Miz Webster is a dressmaker. She’s going to open a shop here.”

“You’d be very welcome,” Susannah said.

“Thank you.” Josie gave Davis Lee a small frown.

“You’d have no shortage of work if that concerns you.” Susannah tucked a stray blond hair into her chignon. “In fact, Riley and Davis Lee’s cousin, Jericho, is getting married in about a month and a half. His intended is planning to see a seamstress in Abilene about a new dress.”

“I bet Miz Webster would be interested in the job. Wouldn’t you?” Davis Lee practically dared her to say no.

Josie’s lips flattened, hinting that she was trying hard to remain pleasant. “Perhaps you could refer me to her?”

Susannah pointed to Catherine Donnelly, a raven-haired woman who stood talking to the reverend with a husky young boy at her side.

Before she followed Susannah’s gaze, Josie glared at Davis Lee. He could tell by the fire in her green eyes that she didn’t like him poking his nose into her affairs.

Too bad. He wanted to get a bead on the woman who had given him the jolt of his life by pulling that weapon from her bodice.

“Let me go get her.” Susannah hurried off and returned in a moment with the tall, slender woman. She introduced her to Josie then said, “Josie is a dressmaker.”

Davis Lee watched with amusement. Before his little spy left church today, she might have enough work to keep her busy and out of his jail.

As the women agreed upon a time for Catherine to come by Josie’s hotel room to discuss her wedding dress, Cora Wilkes and her brother joined them.

“Hello, everyone.” The older woman, widowed almost a year ago when the McDougal gang murdered her husband, patted Davis Lee’s arm and smiled at him and Riley. “How are you today, boys?”

“Doin’ well, Cora.” Davis Lee bussed her cheek, wondering if Josie knew that one reason Ian McDougal sat in Whirlwind’s jail was for murdering Cora’s husband, Ollie, last fall.

“Just fine, Cora.” Riley brushed a kiss against her other cheek and shook the hand of the trim, distinguished-looking man next to her.

“Cora Wilkes, this is Josie Webster.” Susannah pulled the newcomer forward as the older woman smiled and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Josie.” Cora gestured to the man standing at her shoulder. “This is my brother, Loren Barnes.”

He shook her hand, his blue eyes warm. “I’m new, too. It’s nice that I’m not the only one.”

“Where are you from?”

“Fort Smith.”

“I’ve never been there.”

Josie spoke warmly, unhurriedly, but Davis Lee felt nervousness ripple off her. Why?

Susannah touched Josie’s arm. “I do hope you decide to stay in Whirlwind. You’d like it here.”

Josie smiled.

As Susannah and Catherine admired the other woman’s dress, Riley edged up next to Davis Lee and said in a low voice, “Why are you lookin’ at her like you expect her to pull a gun and hold us up?”

Davis Lee took a gurgling Lorelai from his brother and bounced her on his shoulder as he eyed the seamstress. “Twice I’ve caught her showing a powerful interest in my jail. She was watching it from the alley between the livery and Pete’s saloon until I saw her there. Now she has a room at the Whirlwind that looks right at the jail, and yesterday, I found her inside. I think she’s connected to McDougal.”

His brother frowned. “How?”

“Sweetheart, maybe, or relative. I don’t know yet, but I’ve got a telegram ready to send to the Galveston County sheriff and see what I can find out. I’d have sent the wire yesterday, but Tony got sick and had to close the telegraph office.”

“It sure would be a shame if she’s taken up with the likes of a McDougal. She’s pretty.”

“Which doesn’t mean anything. She’s probably also a liar.”

“Maybe not. Every pretty woman isn’t a swindler.”

Davis Lee gave him a flat stare. “Just because you found a good woman like Susannah doesn’t mean we’ll all be so lucky.”

“True enough, but maybe Josie will surprise you.”

“She will. If she keeps away from my prisoner.” Davis Lee watched a shy smile cross her face as Susannah and Catherine spoke to her.

His brother could be fooled if he wanted. Riley wasn’t the one who’d had his heart trampled by a beautiful heartless woman. Davis Lee was harder to dupe and he knew Josie Webster was trying to do just that. First thing tomorrow he would wire Galveston’s sheriff.

The next evening Josie paused outside Sheriff Holt’s office at six-forty-five. Gray clouds had scudded across the sky all day threatening showers, and the air had been pleasantly cool, but the rain hadn’t come. Pressing a hand to her stomach did nothing to calm the flurries there. She had watched the jail today while finishing Gus Simon’s work shirts.

Sheriff Holt had reverted to his original schedule and stepped out for his usual pie and coffee at nine-forty-five, then for lunch at twelve-thirty. Josie made a quick trip to the telegraph and post office to send Gus’s shirts to Galveston. Midafternoon, Catherine Donnelly had arrived for Josie to take her measurements. As Catherine softly talked about her fiancé, a Texas Ranger who was taking care of some business in Houston, Josie worked up an estimate of the cost and time involved to make a dress for Catherine’s upcoming wedding. For that hour, Josie had been unable to watch the jail. As far as she knew, McDougal hadn’t been let out other than for a trip to the outhouse.

The sheriff hadn’t even allowed McDougal to close the privy door. Whenever Holt escorted his shackled prisoner outside, Josie noted it was with a posture that hinted at quick reflexes and an unstinting alertness. The rugged man caused her tongue to twist on itself, but so far he hadn’t shown any inkling of knowing the real reason she was here.

As she lifted her hand to knock on the door of the sheriff’s office, it opened and he smiled down at her. His eyes were a piercing blue in the evening light. “Good evening, Miz Webster. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. I truly appreciate you taking the time to give me these lessons.”

“You’re welcome.” He reached behind him to shut the door. “I’ll be back around dark, Jake.”