Whirlwind Groom (10 page)

“You mean because the anniversary of her husband's death is coming up?”

He nodded. “Did she tell you about that?”

“Loren did. He's very solicitous of her.”

Davis Lee nodded. “I thought having some company might make at least one of her days easier to bear.”

A funny, sad smile quirked her lips. “That's nice.”

He watched her carefully, wanting to see what effect his next words had on her. “It's going to give me great pleasure to see Ian McDougal finally pay for killing Ollie Wilkes.”

“If he does pay,” she said caustically.

Was she doubtful that the law would try the outlaw this
time? Or hinting that he might escape before the trial? “What do you mean?”

“Just that he's managed to avoid a trial so far.”

“He won't avoid it here,” Davis Lee said with utter certainty.

“I hope not.”

He felt the slight tightening of her fingers on him, sensed her distancing herself again. He about ground his teeth to a nub. Getting anywhere with this woman was like trying to get water from a rock. “There are too many people here that the McDougals have hurt. They won't stand for Ian going free.”

She didn't speak for a long moment, the sound of their footsteps lost in the vastness of the night. “What if they have no choice? The judge might be persuaded to say there are no grounds for a trial.”

“If that happens and Ian is set free, I can guarantee you Jericho will go after him and he won't stop until the bastard's dead. He'll have all the help he wants, too.”

She looked up at him, moonlight skimming over the soft curve of her cheek. “From you?”

“And Riley and just about everybody around these parts. The McDougals have killed a lot of innocent folks and threatened plenty more.”

“Like Susannah and Catherine?”

“Yes.” He couldn't read the expression on Josie's face, but before she looked away he registered the hollow loss in her eyes.

His heart gave a vicious twist. Was her sadness for her dead fiancé or something more? There had to be more. Davis Lee knew there were layers to her that he might never see.

They reached the Whirlwind Hotel, and when she would've pulled away, he covered her gloved hand with his. “I'll walk you in.”

She stared up at him, fatigue plain on her delicate features. He got the distinct sense she wanted to deny him, but after a moment, she said, “Thank you.”

They mounted the steps and he held the door for her. Kerosene lamps on both corners of the registration desk and a small table in the center of the lobby brightened their way to the staircase. A lamp on the second floor sent pale yellow light tripping down the stairs. Penn stood just inside the dining room talking to a couple of patrons.

As soon as Davis Lee and Josie reached the bottom of the stairs, she slipped her hand free of his arm. “You don't have to see me up.”

The fact that he again imagined her in that sheer undergarment told him it was probably better if he didn't. “Okay. I'll say good night then.”

“Good night.” Gripping the banister, she backed onto the first step.

He stood there, startled by the impulse to twine a finger in the silky strand of hair that tickled her neck.

She hesitated then turned and started up the stairs. Davis Lee watched her; he couldn't help himself. Her brownish-red hair was caught up loosely in the back but he pictured it down as it had been all the days she'd lain ill in her bed—a thick, silky curtain across her pillow, falling over her shoulder.

His gaze was drawn to her trim back, the small waist, following the line of her skirt as he imagined the sleek legs beneath. The memory of her body in that see-through thing rode him like a devil.

She had climbed two stairs when he saw her pause, her shoulder resting against the wall.

“Josie?”

“I'm all right,” she said faintly.

He reached her in one stride. “You don't look all right.”

She lifted her head and gave him a wan smile. “I'm just tired.”

“Let me help you up.”

“I don't need your help,” she said evenly. “I can do it.”

“Okay.” He stayed where he was in case her legs gave out, which they looked inclined to do. Stubborn female.

She trudged up three more steps and halted again.

“Josie?”

“I'm fine.”

He didn't say anything, just waited.

After a bit, she took another step, bracing her hand against the wall. There were at least six or eight more stairs to go.

Dadburned woman.
Davis Lee moved up behind her and swept her up into his arms. Stunned at the jolt her sweet body gave his, he said gruffly, “If you wanted me to take you upstairs, all you had to do was ask.”

“Oh, put me down!” She pushed weakly at his chest, a blush spreading from her neck to the roots of her hair. “What if someone sees?”

He started up the stairs. “At the rate you were going, it would've taken you an hour to get to your room.”

“Hardly.” She wedged an arm between them, holding herself stiffly away from him.

He looked down at her, able to see a hint of the valley between her breasts. “You obviously overtaxed yourself tonight.”

“My legs are tired, not broken.” She struggled feebly to get down. “I'm sure I can walk.”

“You can walk tomorrow. Be still. I'm just helping you get to your room.”

“You've already done enough.” She squirmed. “You'll drop me.”

“Nah, you're just a little bit.”

“I'm sure I can manage from here.”

Her voice was strained and he wondered if he affected her the way she did him. He stepped onto the second floor's landing and turned. Wishing she would look at him, he chuckled. “This is getting to be a habit. The last time we came up these stairs together, I was carrying you.”

“I wasn't even conscious,” she muttered, not giving him so much as a peek.

The circling shadows were broken by the gentle flow of light from the kerosene lamp on the table in the center of the hall.

They reached her door. “I hope you have your key.”

“Yes.” She reached between them, searching for the side pocket in her skirt. “You can put me down now.”

He found he didn't particularly want to. He liked the way she fit all warm and soft against him. Down at this end of the hall, the lamplight was just a fringe around the cozy darkness in front of her door.

She glanced up. “Davis Lee?”

“Hmm?” His gaze met hers.

“Put me down.”

“I'm working my way up to it.”

“Now,” she demanded.

“Okay.” But he didn't. He liked watching the storm gather on her face, getting her all riled up.

She huffed out an exasperated breath. “And Catherine said you were sweet.”

“You don't agree?”

She eyed him shrewdly. “If I say Catherine's right, will you put me down?”

He grinned, lowering her carefully to her feet.

She retrieved the key from the pocket of her skirt then slid the metal into the lock.

Light glided over the sweet line of her neck, played deep in her chestnut hair. He knew he was courting trouble, but
he braced one arm above her and dipped his head, breathing in the fresh scent of her thick tresses.

“What are you doing?” She spun around, wobbling into the now-open door.

Knocked off balance, she fell. Davis Lee grabbed for her, hooking an arm around her waist and hauling her into him.

Gripping a handful of his shirt, she looked up at him a little dazed. “Oh. That was close.”

Very. He felt her all the way down his body—his thigh between hers, her warm breath tickling his throat. Desire raged through him. Trying to ease the tension he felt coiling inside both of them, he drawled, “You throwing yourself at me, Josie?”

Her spine went rigid beneath his hand until she saw he was teasing. “Oh, yes, Sheriff. I just couldn't wait to get you alone up here so I could have my wicked way with you.”

The sudden quiver in her voice drew him up tighter than new rope. He wanted to kiss her. The way her eyes went soft and deep told him she wanted him to. Standing so close to her, feeling the line of her thighs beneath the layers of her dress and petticoat, he knew he couldn't think straight. The reminder that she was hiding something was barely enough to force him to remove his hands and step back, but he did it.

Before he could say anything, she slipped inside her room. “Good night, Sheriff.”

“Good night—”

The door snapped shut.

Davis Lee stood there for the longest time. Finally he became aware of people's voices downstairs, the chill that had crept into this corner, the shift of shadows on the wall.

He had hoped to learn something new about her at Cora's, but he hadn't. And when he'd carried her upstairs, he'd clean forgotten about getting anything out of her. Her not
giving up any information about herself burned him, but it also intrigued the heck out of him.

He should've been thinking of another way to get at her secret, but was he? No. He was thinking he should've kissed her. Hell and damn and back again.

The only thing he'd learned tonight was he wanted her like hellfire. And she wanted him. That could only be more trouble than an acre of snakes.

 

He wasn't going to put his hands on her again.
He couldn't. Davis Lee hadn't thought clearly in the four days since he'd carried her to her room. He hadn't been thinking too clearly that night, either.

The important thing was he hadn't given in and kissed her. And just to be sure he wouldn't be tempted again, he stayed away from her. Of course it helped that she stayed away from him, too. If he was irritated, it was only because he had failed to learn anything new about her. Not because her avoidance pricked his vanity.

He knew she was lying about something and he despised liars. But evidently not enough to keep from nearly kissing them, he thought darkly. When he was with Josie, he just needed to remember that the last time he'd given in to this kind of insistent wanting for a woman, his heart had been trampled and other people had literally paid the price.

He had finally received a reply to the wire he'd sent the other night before going to Cora's for dinner. The telegraph operator had responded, telling him that Galveston's lines had only now returned to working order. He would pass along Davis Lee's message to the sheriff when he returned from searching for a boy who'd gone missing right after the hurricane.

In the few days since he'd seen Josie, he'd handled his usual duties, which included everything from taking care of his prisoner to separating Luther and Odell, two over-sixty
citizens who drunkenly challenged each other to a duel at least once a week. And he stayed clear of Josie Webster.

He hadn't seen her in town or spoken to her since that night. But he did spot her looking out her hotel window. At the jail. Every day. And every day, several times a day, he purposely walked out onto the steps of his office and looked right at her. He made sure she knew he was watching her.

He wondered if she wanted to forget the shooting lessons but he wasn't inclined to ask. He didn't think she even had the guts to see him face-to-face. Of course, he was one to talk.

He'd gotten nowhere with her, not by asking, not by listening, not by seeing her in more comfortable surroundings. It tested his patience sorely. He
would
find out why the devil she was so interested in Ian McDougal.

That afternoon, Davis Lee walked out of the jail with Dr. Butler, who had come to check Ian's tuberculosis. The outlaw had first asked for Catherine, who had nursed him some months back at the coercion of his brothers. His now-dead brothers. Catherine didn't want to get anywhere near the outlaw. Which was good, because if she did, Davis Lee knew he'd have to answer to Jericho.

From Josie's perfect perch, she could see everyone who went in and out of the jail. No doubt, seeing Butler would rouse her curiosity. Visitors to the jail were infrequent.

Grinning to himself, Davis Lee glanced up at her window. Yep, there she was in plain sight, her chestnut hair threaded with sunlight.

McDougal had been coughing a lot lately, set off by the wind and dirt, the doc said. Dr. Butler had given Ian a small amount of laudanum to soothe his chest, painful from so much coughing. Butler left a small bottle of the medicine with Davis Lee, who had put it in the bottom drawer of his desk and locked it. As the other man said goodbye and
headed in the direction of the telegraph office, Davis Lee looked again at Josie's window.

And blinked. Where the devil was she? He waited a few minutes. When she didn't reappear or come out of the hotel, he decided she must have finally tired of staring out the window. Or perhaps she'd gotten hungry and gone to find something to eat.

He turned to go in, giving one last look in that direction in time to see her step off the hotel's landing and start toward the jail. He had no doubt she was looking for Dr. Butler.

Grinning, Davis Lee leaned against the wall of his office, propped one booted foot behind him and got comfortable with his whittling knife. Just what was his little spy going to do?

S
tepping off the hotel's landing, Josie immediately realized that Davis Lee hadn't gone back inside his office. He leaned against the wall beside the front door of the jailhouse, watching her. Steadily, insolently. Just as he had for the past four days. A knife blade flashed silver in the midday light. He was whittling.

She tore her gaze from him, searching for the tall, brown-haired man with the black bag she'd seen from her window. He came out of the post office a few yards in front of her and she gathered up her skirts. As she hurried toward him, she fought the impulse to go back to the hotel, duck away from Davis Lee's piercing gaze. If she wanted to have a conversation with the man she hoped was Dr. Butler from Fort Greer, she would.

Trying to ignore the lanky sheriff who watched her with a concentration that made her skin tingle, she caught up to the bag-carrying stranger and asked tentatively, “Doctor?”

“Yes?” He turned, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Dr. Butler?”

He nodded.

She tried to pretend Davis Lee wasn't staring as if he were trying to figure out how to whittle
her.
“I wanted a
chance to say thank you. I'm Josie Webster. Last week, I was—”

“You're the snakebite. I mean—” He gave her a sheepish grin, stepping into the street to make way for passersby on the planked walkway. “Yes, I remember. I'm sorry I said that about the snakebite.”

“It's all right. My father was a doctor. He sometimes referred to patients by their ailments.”

“It's a habit I need to curb.” He had kind brown eyes and silver threaded sparsely through his walnut-dark hair. “I'm glad to see you're up and about. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I'm so grateful you had the herbs Catherine needed to make my poultice.”

“And the bite, the swelling?”

“I have a scar, but my leg is back to normal size.”

“Good, good.” He nodded vigorously, his intelligent gaze attentive. “Catherine said you were versed in the treatment.”

“A little. My father taught me how to treat a snakebite. I wish I hadn't needed to know,” she said dryly.

“It's lucky you have Davis Lee's protection. He's a good man.”

“Yes.” First Cora, now the doctor. Josie hoped he wasn't going to extol the sheriff's virtues to her.

“If you ever need work, I could use you at the fort. Catherine is there three days a week.”

“I'm a better seamstress than a nurse, but that's very kind.”

Davis Lee's intense regard shrank the distance between them until it felt as if he stood just inches from her. She shifted, trying to position herself in front of Dr. Butler so that his shoulders blocked the sheriff's view. Hoping to get the information she wanted, she gently prodded, “I saw you
coming out of the jail. I hope nothing's wrong with the sheriff.”

“No, he's fine. I was taking a look at—”

“Hey, Doc.” A gravelly masculine voice boomed behind her.

“Doc.” Another deep male voice.

Drat. Josie turned, her eyes widening at the sight of two huge, dark-haired men. She'd seen them before, talking to Davis Lee in the street several days ago.

“Ma'am.” They spoke at the same time, sweeping off their well-worn cowboy hats. Their blue eyes sparkled at her.

“Miss Webster,” the doctor said. “May I introduce Russ and Matt Baldwin?”

“Hello.” She had to tilt her head back in order to meet their gazes.

The men were two to three inches taller than Davis Lee, one taller than the other by an inch. He had a mustache.

The clean-shaven one grinned broadly and jerked a thumb toward his brother, his eyes sparkling at her. “That's Russ. He's too old for you.”

His words startled a laugh out of her. “I guess that means you're Matt.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He settled his hat back on his dark, wavy hair, his gaze warm as it traveled over her plaid daydress. “And I must say it is a pure pleasure to see you again.”

Again?
Josie frowned. “I don't think we've—”

“Simmer down, Matt,” Russ muttered. “You'll spook her. He apologizes, Miz Webster.”

“It's all right.” Swallowed up by their size and exuberance, she felt a bit overwhelmed. Goodness, but it would probably take nearly a quarter bolt of fabric to make a shirt to fit their brawny chests and arms.

Though both had rugged, bronzed features, Russ's were slightly more refined—a sharper angle to his cheekbones
and jaw, the straight line of his nose. Matt's features were more blunt, but just as handsome.

He flashed a pair of deep dimples. “We haven't formally met until now. You were unconscious.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“Stop teasing her, Matt.” Russ took a step closer. “He helped the sheriff get you into the hotel after the snakebite.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And
I
went for Catherine,” he added.

“Thank you,” she said warmly. “I'm lucky you were around. How nice to meet you both.”

“The pleasure's all ours, ma'am,” Russ said with quiet charm.

Josie felt Davis Lee's scrutiny sharpen. Why didn't he just go inside the jail and leave her alone? And as nice as these men seemed, she wished the Baldwins would give her one more minute alone with Dr. Butler so she could try and find out why he'd been in the sheriff's office.

Russ turned to Butler. “What are you doing in town today, Doc?”

She tried to hide her surprise that he had asked the question she had planned to ask.

“Davis Lee wanted me to check the prisoner.” His gaze shifted to Josie. “He has tuberculosis.”

“He could die from that,” Matt said in a hard voice. “Wish he'd get on with it. Beg pardon, ma'am.”

“That's all right,” she murmured. Davis Lee was right in that the people of Whirlwind didn't seem inclined to let McDougal escape justice this time.

Dr. Butler nodded. “Consumption can be a slow death.”

“Too good for him, if you ask me,” Russ muttered.

Josie silently agreed. “Is his condition getting worse?”

“Not more severe, just a flare-up.”

“I see.” She didn't want Ian McDougal dying of that disease. She wanted his death to have a face. Hers.

The doctor shifted his bag to the other hand. “Please excuse me, Miss Webster. I must leave, but I'm happy you introduced yourself. It's a joy to see that you're recovering so well.”

“Thank you.”

As he walked toward the jail and his buggy, Matt and Russ moved in front of her, forming a welcome obstacle to Davis Lee's unwavering regard.

Matt grinned. “You do look a sight healthier than the last time I saw you.”

“I hope that snake didn't scare you into wanting to leave Whirlwind,” Russ said.

“Not at all.” She wasn't going anywhere until she'd done what she came to do.

Matt's blue gaze easily met hers. “Where you from?”

“Galveston.” Despite the solid wall of man in front of her, she felt the sheriff's attention.

“We've never been down to the coast. Are you planning to make Whirlwind your home now?”

“I'm thinking about it.”

“We'd be pleased to have you here,” Russ said. “Whirlwind isn't as big as Galveston, but it's a nice town. Our Founder's Day dance and horse race are the best in three counties.”

“And don't forget the harvest dance,” Matt put in. “It's a real shindig.”

“It's coming up in about a week.” Russ edged closer. “Would you allow me to take you?”

“Thank you, but I'm already going with someone.”

He looked genuinely disappointed. “I'll just have to be quicker next time.”

“You still staying at the hotel?” Matt's gaze skated over her with obvious interest, but her nerves didn't flutter like they did when Davis Lee simply looked at her.

“Yes.”

“Getting settled in all right?” Russ asked.

“Just fine.” She would really enjoy talking to them if it weren't for the sheriff's unflinching regard.

“If you decide you need a permanent place, we can help you find something,” Russ offered.

“Thank you. I'm still not sure what I'll do about that.”

In the small space between the brothers she saw movement, a flash of a blue shirt. Davis Lee was coming toward them. Why? she thought irritably.

He sauntered up with an easy grace that had Josie setting her teeth. As if he had a right to be there, he moved to the left of Matt so that he stood at Josie's shoulder. His shirtsleeve brushed her arm and she edged away. The warmth of his body and the clean outdoor scent of him reminded her of the other night in front of her room.

“Good afternoon, Davis Lee,” Russ said while Matt lifted a hand in greeting.

“Boys.” The sheriff's gaze, sharp and piercing, moved to Josie as he said with a trace of amusement, “Miz Webster.”

“Sheriff,” she murmured, fingering her white standing collar.

Matt slid a speculative look at Davis Lee then at Josie, plainly curious. “You like horse races, Miz Webster?”

“Yes.”

“There are some good ones in Abilene this time of year. Maybe we can—”

“I saw your pa down at Ef's smithy,” Davis Lee broke in. “He looked perturbed. Were y'all supposed to meet him there?”

Josie slid him a narrow-eyed look. How did he know where the Baldwins' father was? Davis Lee hadn't moved from his spot in front of the jail the whole time she'd been talking to the brothers.

“Don't recall that, but I guess we'd better go.” Russ's
gaze flicked to Davis Lee. “Sure was nice to meet you, Miz Webster.”

“Josie, please. I enjoyed meeting the both of you,” she said warmly. “Thank you again for your help after my snakebite.”

She noted the sudden tightening of Davis Lee's jaw. And the nearly imperceptible warning look he flashed at the brothers. Then she understood. They thought Davis Lee had some kind of claim on her and he was letting them think that. Encouraging it, even!

Thinking back to the doctor's words about her having Davis Lee's protection, she realized he'd thought the same.

Her blood started a slow simmer and she gave Matt her sweetest smile. “Since I was conscious for this meeting, next time I'll remember you.”

He chuckled. “I hope so. I'll make sure next time comes real soon.”

She laughed and both men smiled, their avid interest making her face heat.

Davis Lee folded his arms across his big chest and cleared his throat, which seemed to prod the brothers into moving.

Matt tipped his hat to her. “If you need anything at all—”

“Please call on us,” Russ finished.

“Thank you, I will.”

“And save me at least one dance at Eishen's,” Russ said.

“Me, too,” Matt put in.

She laughed. “All right.”

They started toward the other end of town, going only a short distance before they both looked back. She wiggled her fingers in a wave. “They're very friendly.”

“To every woman they meet,” the sheriff drawled.

She slanted a look at him, then shifted her attention, staring blankly at a woman and small girl going into Haskell's. She was still weak from the fever. That's why she
kept wondering what Davis Lee's kiss would've been like, why she spared it a thought at all. “I think you made that up about their pa, just so they'd leave.”

“I didn't
say
he was lookin' for 'em.” His gaze sharpened on her face. “What did you want with Doc Butler? Checking to see why he was in my jail?”

“Am I supposed to report my activities to you, Sheriff?” she snapped, annoyed at how vividly she recalled the hard warmth of his chest cradling her. “I must've forgotten.”

“Want me to think you're spyin' on me, Josie?” His low tone raised the hairs on her neck.

“I wanted to thank the doctor for the herbs Catherine used to make my poultice,” she said defiantly, arching an eyebrow. “All right?”

His prolonged silence unnerved her and she tamped down the urge to squirm, feeling compelled to add, “He said he was glad to see me up and about.”

Davis Lee's blue gaze did a slow slide over her, flicking her nerve endings sharply. “How
are
you feeling?”

“I'm fine.” She couldn't meet his gaze. Even knowing that the desire to feel his mouth on hers was an effect of her weakened state, she was skittish. “In fact, I feel well enough to resume my shooting lessons, if you would be so kind.”

A subtle tension lashed his body. “You sure?”

“Yes.” The way he affected her had her reconsidering the lessons altogether. But thinking about her parents and William told her that not learning to shoot was just as risky as being in close proximity to Davis Lee.

His gaze searched her face. “Did you want to start tonight?”

Tonight! She might rather take her chances with the sheriff, but she needed a little time to prepare herself. “Uh, no. How about Saturday? Or Monday?”

“Tomorrow's better than Monday. Same time as last?”

“Between six-thirty and seven would be fine.” She glanced around, catching sight of Charlie Haskell standing in the doorway of his store watching her with Davis Lee. The older man gave her a big smile and nodded approvingly.

Something he and his nephew had said yesterday when they paid her a visit made sense now. She lowered her voice. “Are you trying to make people think there's something going on between us?”

He grinned and pushed his hat back, making her stomach do a slow drop to her feet. “Are people starting to think that?”

He looked far too pleased with himself and she narrowed her eyes. “Charlie and Mitchell both told me that you've been asking after me, quite a lot. Just now, the Baldwins seemed to think something along the same lines and so did Dr. Butler. You did nothing to correct that impression.”