Heart of a Lawman Page 6

  “I don’t know if this is going to work out,” he muttered.

  “It’ll work out,” Emmett said. “You worked out.”

  Bart didn’t recall it quite that way. He just remembered being miserable. He hadn’t been able to save one parent, hadn’t been able to please the other.

  And between him and his half-brothers, there’d been mostly jealousy and resentment, a love-hate relationship that was hard to define. Having chosen to stay on the ranch rather than live with his mother, Reed would have been the son in line to run it if Bart had never returned. But their father had made it clear that Bart was back to take that honor. And, in doing so, the old man had created a rift between the brothers. Not that the quiet Reed had ever put his resentment into words. As for Chance, his mother had run out on the old man and him—and the youngest Quarrels brother had done his best to make everyone else give up on him, as well.

  Bart had always sworn things would be different for his kids, that he’d never put them through what his father had him. But lately—ever since making the decision to take on the Curly-Q and all it entailed—he’d done nothing but foster hostility and tears.

  As if she knew exactly what he was thinking, Felice said, “Give them time, Mr. Bart. They’re unhappy now, but they’ll soon realize you have their best interests at heart. They’ll come around, both of them.”

  Bart nodded.

  They would have to come around, wouldn’t they, or none of this was going to work.

  FLAXEN MANE WHIPPING in her face, she felt as if her mount had wings….

  Her heart soared and she gave herself over to the feeling of flying…faster…higher…scarier, for a dark figure stepped in their path.

  She panicked and jerked on the reins. The sorrel flew upward now, hooves pounding the sky. Then they were off again, heading straight for the figure …a silhouette of a tall man wearing a brimmed hat…arm reaching out…hand grabbing at the reins.

  The sorrel barreled around him to avoid his grasp.

  The sudden movement made her dizzy. She clung on tight to the reins in one hand, the saddle horn in the other.

  The very earth whirled around her and suddenly it wasn’t a leather horn she was grasping…but a steering wheel…and she came to a thudding upsidedown stop. Breath knocked out of her, she dangled like a puppet from a web.

  Terrified, she cried out and thrashed to no avail…

  Calming only when something soft and warm curled against her chest. Josie’s eyes flew open to a dark that was still but for a low sound emanating from below her chin.

  Purring…

  Gasping, she remembered where she was and realized she’d been having a nightmare. Relieved that she had no reason for real fear, she snuggled in closer to the cat.

  “Miss Kitty, I knew I could count on you,” she whispered, even while wondering what man haunted her sleep.

  Only Deputy Bart Quarrels came to mind.

  Uncertain, though, she shifted in bed until her companion protested her lack of attention.

  “Sorry.”

  She cuddled the sweet animal who already seemed to belong to her. Not that she should get too attached, Josie reminded herself. She didn’t know how long it would be before she had to leave this place in a heartbeat, just as she had the hospital the night before.

  Before the authorities had even been informed that she’d regained consciousness, she’d crept away in the dark of night…had gotten to the highway…had hitched a ride with a trucker who’d kept to himself.

  Here was better, yet she hadn’t really felt safe since awakening with no memory.

  Oh, she could remember the things that didn’t matter to her. Like who was running the country…which television shows were most popular…even what toy had been the bestseller the previous Christmas.

  What she couldn’t remember were all the important things. How she’d landed in the hospital bed in the first place…why a sense of fear threatened to smother her at the oddest of times…or, most important, who she was.

  A woman with no name.

  Would she always have to live a lie? she wondered.

  She’d come out of a deep, disturbing sleep that had held her in its hazy cotton trap for some time. While still half unconscious, she’d overheard strange voices talking about her, speculating about crimes that she might have committed. Those voices had said that the vehicle she’d wrecked had been stolen. That the police wanted to question her as soon as she was awake. That they were already running the fingerprints found in the truck through the computer system.

  Her fingerprints.

  Josie rubbed the tips of her fingers against one another—lightly callused, they spoke of hard work. She wondered if they really could reveal more, could really tell her who she was.

  What crimes she had committed.

  What kind of a person she was deep down inside.

  She turned those fingers to the animal who trusted her so implicitly. Blindly, she searched for every sweet spot she could find to make the cat purr harder and louder.

  Eventually, she allowed the vibration to seduce her back to a world where her real identity didn’t matter.

  MORNING CAME ALL TOO SOON. Still, Josie rose with a sense of purpose.

  “I’m going to find you your real owner,” she informed the cat, who watched her from the middle of the bed. “And me a paying job.”

  After showering, she wove her wet hair into a single braid and used makeup to camouflage the quickly fading facial bruise. She slipped into a fresh cotton shirt with long sleeves and a clean pair of jeans, then added the things she’d been wearing to the basket of Alcina’s clothing that she’d left in the mudroom the night before. Even as she started the laundry, she smelled the fresh-brewed coffee and heard Alcina moving around, clattering pans.

  Entering the kitchen, Josie grabbed a mug of coffee. Her plans to put up Found Cat signs and ask around town for work right after breakfast got Alcina’s approval. Thinking maybe things would work out to everyone’s satisfaction, Josie pitched in, making fresh orange juice.

  “How long have you been on the road?” Alcina suddenly asked.

  “Did Deputy Quarrels ask you to grill me?”

  “Deputy…oh. I was teasing him. Bart’s not a lawman anymore. He retired his badge to run his daddy’s ranch. Actually it’s the family ranch now, the biggest one around here. And like everything else around here, it’s fallen on some hard times.”

  “He sure seemed like a lawman,” Josie muttered.

  “That’s just Bart’s way. He always did have to be on top of things.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t officially on her case, though she suspected he would be—badge or no badge—if he got just an inkling of what she’d run from. Not wanting to encourage more questions she couldn’t or didn’t want to answer, Josie volunteered to set up the dining room.

  Five guests were now registered at the bed-and-breakfast—two couples and Tim Harrigan, the lone man she’d seen arrive. He was the first to wander downstairs. Freshly showered and shaved, his light hair still damp, his pale blue eyes sparkling, he was easy to look at.

  “Morning,” he said cheerfully, looking her over with equal interest. “I’m Tim.”

  “Josie. Want some coffee?”

  “You bet. Black’ll be fine.”

  “Make yourself at home in the parlor if you want. Alcina’s cooking up a storm. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes or so.”

  “Great. I’m starving.”

  Back in the kitchen, she volunteered to help speed things along, but Alcina said she had everything under control and would call her when it was time to put the food on the table. Filling an insulated decanter with coffee, Josie brought it out to the buffet where she poured some into a mug for Tim, then joined him in the parlor.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the steaming mug. “So, you like living here?”

  “I haven’t been in town long myself,” she hedged. “Are you thinking of moving to Silver Springs?”

 
“Nah, probably not. I’m just kicking around for a while, and this town seemed like as good a place as any to spend a few days.”

  “You never know—it might grow on you.”

  “Never know,” he echoed, saluting her with the coffee mug and gulping down half the contents. “You could help, tell me what sights to check out.”

  Josie laughed. “If there are sights, I don’t really know about them yet.”

  He seemed hesitant, almost shy, when he said, “Maybe we could check them out together.”

  For some reason, the friendly suggestion made Josie uneasy. “I’m going to be looking for work.”

  He said, “No problem,” but withdrew into his coffee.

  Now feeling guilty, Josie silently blessed Alcina, who just then called her from the kitchen. “Sounds like breakfast is coming right up.”

  And the other guests were coming down the stairs. Two couples—one middle-aged, the other young and obviously newly in love.

  For the next half hour, Josie kept busy serving food, keeping coffee mugs filled and setting the dirty dishes in the washer while Alcina ate with her guests.

  They were all chattering like old friends, all except Tim, who was keeping to himself. He really was shy, Josie thought, almost sorry she’d turned down his friendly offer. And yet she had little interest in spending time alone with him. Or with any man, for that matter. Something about doing so frightened her.

  Even as she thought it, a ruggedly handsome face came to mind. Josie pushed the lawman “who wasn’t really” out of her thoughts and concentrated on doing a good job.

  Once the dining room was put back to order and the laundry finished, Josie readied herself to job-hunt. She redid her hair, fixed her face, swiped on pale pink lipstick and grabbed the signs she’d drawn up about the cat. Leaving Miss Kitty in the chicken coop so the cat could get some fresh air and a change of scene, she set off.

  Her plan was to check every business on one side of the winding street, then make her way back on the opposite side. Executing the simple plan didn’t take long.

  “Sorry, no work here” and “Ain’t heard of no one looking for a missing cat” were typical of the responses she heard. Still, she did get permission to put up her signs.

  When she arrived at the gas station at the far end of town, she got her first whiff of good news.

  “Think they’re looking for someone over at the bar,” the owner told her.

  Hope renewed, Josie set off, futilely checking with open businesses along the way to the Silver Slipper Saloon. The name was fancier than the place—a long room of dark wood and an oversize silver-framed Mexican mirror behind the massive bar. One end of the room was raised—a stage with electric footlights, though most of the bulbs were missing. And all around the room, walls were hung with aging posters of acts that had once appeared there.

  Even though it wasn’t quite noon, several men populated the place, mostly at small tables. The bartender was talking to a customer seated on a bar stool, but as she approached, nerves jumping, he turned her way, pale gray, nearly colorless eyes narrowing on her. Fortyish, he was a large man with rough features topped by a buzz cut that could be blond or silver—she couldn’t quite tell in the low light.

  “And what can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I hear you’re looking for help.”

  “Sorry, little lady, but I’m it,” the man said. “Hired just last night. If it’ll make you feel any better, though, drink’s on me.”

  Her only hope gone, Josie figured nothing would make her feel better. But she was thirsty and could use a rest before heading back to the bed-and-breakfast.

  She forced a smile. “Only if I can get a soda. Ginger ale?”

  “Coming right up.”

  Josie slid onto a stool as he filled a glass.

  He slid it to her. “Name’s Hugh Ruskin.”

  “Josie.”

  “I’m sure glad you weren’t around last night.”

  “Why?”

  “A sweet-lookin’ thing like you is bound to bring in more customers—you would have had the edge on me.”

  “I don’t know,” Josie said, shifting uncomfortably as she seemed to do every time she was faced with a man paying her any mind. “You talk the talk.”

  He leaned over the bar and closer to her. Josie’s fingers automatically tightened on her glass.

  “I call ’em like I see ’em,” he murmured. “And I sure would like to see more of you, little lady. How about here, tonight? Tab’s on me and we can get better acquainted after the bar closes.”

  Again the odd feeling, stronger than her reaction to Tim Harrigan.

  Smile a little stiffer, she said, “Thanks, but I’m not much of a bar girl.”

  “That why you were lookin’ for a job here?”

  “I need a paycheck. Period.”

  Not liking the surliness covered by Ruskin’s smile, Josie drew back, thinking she’d better leave. But before she could make her move, the door behind her opened, drawing Ruskin’s attention away from her.

  “Welcome to the Silver Slipper!” he called out. “Name your brew.”

  “Coffee” came a familiar voice.

  Josie sat frozen, keeping her back to Bart Quarrels as Ruskin got him his coffee.

  “Here you go.” He slid the mug across the bar. “We haven’t met. I’m Hugh Ruskin.”

  “Bart Quarrels.”

  Of all the men to walk into the bar while she was there! Surely he wasn’t following her.

  “Listen up, men!” Bart said in a raised voice, though the handful there could easily have heard a quieter tone. “I’m spreading the word—we’re looking for help over at the Curly-Q. Anyone here looking for work?”

  “I got a friend who might be interested,” one man said.

  “Good. Tell him to come see me. I’m hiring right away. Anyone else know someone?”

  Josie’s heart thundered with the irony. Of all the people to have that work she sorely needed! She couldn’t believe she’d ask him to hire her, but what else could she do? She’d checked every business in the town proper. If she ever wanted to get out of Silver Springs with folding money in her pocket…

  She hesitated only a second before turning on her stool. “I’m looking for work.”

  As their gazes locked, Bart didn’t try to hide his surprise. “You, again.”

  “Me,” she agreed, her pulse once more threading strangely. The way he was staring at her…he might as well be touching her.

  “Sorry, but I don’t need a housekeeper or cook. I’ve got a big cattle operation to run and not enough hands.”

  “What makes you think the only thing I can do is keep house or cook?”

  He sized her up for a moment before asking, “You have experience with cattle?”

  A good question…one she couldn’t answer.

  Again the image of the flaxen-maned sorrel flashed through her mind.

  “I have experience with horses,” she said, somehow knowing that was the truth. How much experience, she wasn’t certain, but she was desperate enough to bluff. Besides, she did have a set of spurs in her leather bag. That meant she did some serious riding. “If you have a big operation, you’ll need a wrangler.”

  “I need someone who can do everything on a ranch. I need a real cowboy.”

  “And I am someone who can learn to do anything,” she assured him. “Even be a cowboy.”

  She was crazy and she knew it. She was throwing herself in the lawman’s path. Ex-lawman, she reminded herself. Besides, he was the only game in town, the only one who had the cash money she needed. Besides, she only had to work for him long enough to collect a paycheck or two.

  Surely she could manage that and still escape him unscathed.

  “Before you make up your mind,” Josie said, a whole lot more calmly than she was feeling, “at least give me a chance to prove myself.”

  Chapter Five

  No way did Bart want to fool himself into thinking Josie Wales was what he wa
s looking for. It wasn’t just that she was a woman, but that she was scrawny and secretive and a little bit desperate. But was the last really a bad thing? he asked himself, especially since help was harder to find than he’d counted on. Oh, he could get men eventually—send out the word far enough and a bunch of day workers with no prospects would come running.

  In the end, he decided to relent, though why exactly he wasn’t willing to say.

  “If I do hire you,” he told Josie, “you will have to prove yourself. And you’ll be expected to do more than keep tabs on the horses.”

  “Just give me a chance to show you what I can do.”

  “This afternoon,” he said decisively. Get it over in a hurry. Either she would do or she wouldn’t. “You need directions?”

  Josie grimaced. “What I need is a ride—no transportation of my own,” she explained.

  Bart could hardly believe her nerve. “Let’s get this straight. You want to work on my ranch, but you have no way of getting there yourself.”

  Josie stared at him unwavering. “Well, Ican walk. How far is it?”

  “Too far for you to have anything left in you by the time you get there.”

  “Is this a deal-breaker?”

  “We don’t have a deal.”“Yet,” she qualified. “I’m going to prove myself, remember?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Right, you will.”

  She said it without hesitation, and from her very intensity, Bart sensed she would rather die than fail. He chalked up a couple of respect points in her favor.

  “So how soon are we leaving?” she asked.

  “I need to make a few more stops. I’ll pick you up at Alcina’s in thirty minutes sharp.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  With that, she practically flew out of the place. Staring after her, Bart suddenly grew aware of curious eyes on him. He boldly met the nearest pair, which happened to belong to the bartender.

  “You really going to make a cowboy of the little lady?” Ruskin asked. “Or you got other plans for her?”