Carolyn Davidson

Texas Lawman


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of establishments along the street that centered town. “He’s tied to a hitching rail in front of the general store.”

      She bit at her lip, looking in the direction he pointed. “Who did that?”

      “My deputy. I figured you’d be back to get the mare, and Jamie’s keeping an eye out, waiting for you to show up.”

      She turned abruptly and stalked away. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would I?”

      He kept pace with her, allowing her to stride in front of him, wondering why he hadn’t recognized immediately that the slender form he’d followed between buildings and behind the newspaper office, almost to the woods, was not a man at all. He was certainly having no problem now sorting out the difference between her womanly form and that of a male.

      She walked down the sidewalk beside the dark stores, past the saloon where music and loud voices carried over and under the swinging doors to clash in a raucous symphony of sound. The general store was dark, the proprietor gone for the night, and in front of his establishment stood a mare, saddled and ready to ride.

      “Did you find the man?” Brace asked the woman as she stepped down to release her mare from the hitching rail.

      She turned to face him, reins in her hand. “No. If I had, you’d have heard a gunshot, Sheriff. I’d have killed him.” With a quick move she was in the saddle, and Brace took a long stride toward her, reaching for her reins.

      “Whoa, lady. You can’t make a statement like that and then just ride away.”

      “You can’t arrest me, sir,” she told him, unmoving, as if she would not put her mare’s mouth in jeopardy by fighting for the reins he held. “I didn’t break any laws.”

      “Intent is reason enough for me to take you in for questioning.”

      She tossed her head, and the moonlight shimmered from dark hair, turning her skin to palest ivory, even as her eyes glittered with the reflection of starlight. “Hard up for a woman?” she asked softly.

      “Now that you mention it,” he returned quietly, “I am…a little.”

      “There’s no little about it,” she countered. “Either you’re on the prowl for a handy female, or you’re not.” Her chin rose, and a challenge he’d not thought to hear spewed from her lips. “If you touch me, I swear I’ll kill you, Mr. Lawman. You can toss me in your jail cell if you like, but you’d better have a damn good reason for doing it.”

      Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she faced him down, and he felt unbidden admiration for the courage she displayed. She was either a very brave woman or totally without good sense, defying a lawman with the ability to put her in a cell and throw away the key. Not that he was likely to do such a thing, but the temptation was there.

      For if he placed her in custody, he’d have a chance to find out something about her—he’d have a day or so, perhaps, to dig deep into her reasons for being in Benning, Texas.

      “I can’t allow a woman to go riding off alone in the dark without someone to look after her,” he said bluntly. “Unless you’re willing to tell me who you are and what’s going on here, I can’t let you leave. Your gentleman friend may very well be watching us even now, just waiting for a chance to snatch you up.”

      She laughed, a bitter sound, and shook her head. “He won’t be coming near me. He doesn’t know I’m here. I’ve been following him for the past two weeks, and when I saw him ride into Benning this morning I followed. He left his horse at the livery stable and went into the hotel before noon. I’ve been watching ever since.”

      “I didn’t see you,” Brace said. “And I pretty much know everything that goes on in this town.”

      “If I don’t want to be seen, I can always find a hole to crawl into,” she told him. “I’m not afraid to be on my own, and I don’t want to take a chance on Les—” She inhaled sharply.

      “Is that his name?” Brace asked. “Les?” He frowned consideringly. “Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell with me. A stranger in town, you say?”

      She glared at him, obviously angry with herself for giving away even that small bit of information. Her lips thinned, as if she would deny another word passage between them, and he shrugged as if he were baffled by her silence.

      He reached up, gripping her elbow, catching her off balance. She jerked back, but to no avail. Brace Caulfield was a tall man, strong and well muscled, and a woman, no matter how tough she pretended to be, stood little chance of escaping his hold.

      “You want to get down off that mare by yourself,” he asked, “or shall I help you?”

      “Damn you,” she snarled. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

      “Maybe not,” he said agreeably. “But I have a feeling that you’ll be safer with me than riding out of town at this time of night.” His grip on her arm tightened a bit and she shot him a look of pure venom, her face illuminated by the full moon that played hide-and-seek with drifting clouds overhead.

      With ease she slid from her saddle and stood before him. “Now are you satisfied?” she asked.

      “Not by a long shot, lady,” he murmured, and then watched as his deputy joined them in the middle of the street.

      “I figured when I saw you trailin’ her you didn’t need me standin’ guard over that mare,” Jamie said, his attention fully on the female who stood between the two men.

      “Well, you can come in handy right now,” Brace told him, handing him the reins and nodding toward the livery stable just down the street from the jailhouse.

      The deputy led the mare away, and the woman watched as her horse disappeared inside the open door of the livery. “Come on inside,” Brace told her, then watched as the woman reluctantly crossed the threshold into the small office.

      “Sit down,” he said, leading her to a chair and applying a bit of pressure to insure she obeyed his order. He reached to the lantern that hung over his desk and, scratching a match against his rear pocket, he lit the lamp, his eyes narrowing against the glare. Then, leaning against the edge of the desk, he removed his hat, placing it behind him in an automatic gesture. “Now talk,” he told her. “Your name first, if you please.”

      She set her jaw stubbornly, and her glare was filled with defiance. “Sarah Murphy,” she said flatly. “Now can I leave?”

      “Why are you on this fella’s trail, Miss Murphy?” Brace asked quietly, ignoring her query. She was mute, her lips tightly pressed together, and he watched her patiently, knowing that he could outlast any woman in the world when it came to remaining silent.

      Her shoulders slumped a bit, but with a visible effort she lifted her head, meeting his gaze head-on. “He’s a monster, of the very worst kind.”

      “What did he do?” Brace asked, careful not to raise his voice. Gentle probing might work best with a wary woman, he thought.

      Sarah’s face became a mask of despair as he watched, and the words she spoke seemed to come from some bitter well within her. “He was married to my sister. They had a child, a boy. And then Sierra died and her beloved husband took off with the child.”

      “What happened to your sister?”

      His worst fears were confirmed as Sarah Murphy lifted a bleak gaze in his direction, and her words verified his thoughts.

      “She was strangled, just over two months ago. By a stranger, according to Les. Someone who broke in to the house and attacked Sierra.”

      “And you don’t believe that?” Brace asked quietly, prepared for the shake of her head, the scornful line of her lips as she denied his query.

      “He’d threatened her before. When Les drinks he’s a demon, mean and hateful. Even sober, he’s got a cruel streak a mile wide.”

      “Why