Deadly (12 page)

With a deep breath, he played into her assumptions. “Even a sheriff has needs that his pay doesn’t cover.”

“I knew it. You’re trying to earn that five hundred dollar bounty. Why did you let him get away?”

“He knocked me out cold and disappeared. I had to get back to the jail.” He hated lying to her, but had no choice.

She handed the bottle to him, obviously satisfied with his story.

He took a swig of the liquor and let it burn down his throat, leaving him warm. “You don’t dress like a woman. How do you know you can make dresses that other women will want to wear?”

She smiled, and his heart seemed to melt into one big puddle. When her lips parted and the smile reached all the way to her emerald eyes, he wanted to grab her and make her his. Put a ring on her finger, make passionate love to her, and build them a home.

How could a woman’s smile create so much havoc within him?

“That’s easy. Papa caught me drawing a dress and knew I had a good eye for design. He would bring me catalogues whenever he came home, and I would pour over them looking at the latest fashions. Now, whenever we stop in town, I go into the local dressmakers shop and look at her dress designs. I have a collection of ideas, several designs already drawn. If I don’t succeed, then it won’t be because I didn’t try.”

While she’d been talking, her eyes had a dreamy expression of determination, and he suddenly realized how much she wanted this. This was no spur of the moment consideration; she’d been thinking of this for years. Her whole body had perked up, and he’d seen a side of Meg he’d never realized existed. She was a soft woman hidden beneath a tough exterior.

“Have you ever sewn a dress before?” he asked, wondering if she really had the talent.

She smiled. “All of my sister’s clothes.”

“You know you should design a dress that women could wear while riding a horse. Some kind of split skirt.”

She gawked at him for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea. I wish I had my pencil and paper. I’d sketch that out right now.”

He set the bottle down in front of her. She took a deep breath then took a swig of the alcohol. “When did you decide to become a sheriff?”

His shoulder pounded. He had to be careful how much he told her. Even the tiniest detail could be used against him.

“I left home when I turned eighteen. Traveled around a bit, doing odd jobs and a little ranching. Quickly, I learned I never wanted to go on another cattle drive again. Then an opening came up as a deputy in San Antonio, and when I received the position, I was thrilled. Now I’m the sheriff of Zenith.”

“Are you far from your family?” she asked.

“No, they’re a two-day ride away,” he said. So far, he hadn’t had to lie to her and that felt good. He wanted to tell her the truth, but kept hoping he wouldn’t have to. “My stepfather passed away a couple of years ago, but my mother refuses to sell the small ranch she owns. I check on her often and try to help her when I can.”

She handed the bottle to him. “That stuff is really starting to work. I don’t think I can feel my legs anymore.”

He laughed and leaned against her, rubbing his good shoulder with hers. “We’ve still got half a bottle to go.” He took a big swig and shivered. “What’s made you such a capable, determined, stubborn woman?”

Sometimes there were things that happened in a person’s life that made them a strong person, and he wondered about Meg. Sure, she’d had to be responsible very young, but what else had toughened her?

She looked at him like he was crazy. “You don’t think taking care of two young girls before you’re old enough to breed and have the responsibility of the farm would make you into a stubborn woman? Have you ever dealt with Mr. Green down at the mercantile? That man would just as soon gyp you as give you what you ordered. I learned at a very young age to watch very carefully as he would short me every time. There were no adults around, and I had no one to depend on. I had to learn.”

He smiled and handed the bottle back to her. “Ready to cry uncle?”

She took a swig of the alcohol. “Not on your life. Tell me what you were thinking that day I walked into your office and asked you to marry me?”

He threw his head back and laughed. He’d never forget that day as long as he lived. When this beautiful young woman had waltzed into his office and asked him to marry her, his heart had almost frozen to a halt. That was probably the biggest shock he’d ever received as sheriff.

“You about gave me heart failure. I’d never had any woman propose to me, especially after we’d only spoken a few times. Yet, I was intrigued. Why in the hell was a good looking woman asking this dog-eared cowboy to marry her?” Today, he wouldn’t even hesitate. He’d ask where and when.

She handed the bottle back to him. He took a swig of the drink. “If I had a do over, I would take you by the hand and walk straight out the door to the sin-buster.”

“You lost your chance, cowboy,” she said, leaning against him to stare up at him, their faces so close together.

“Don’t count me out,” he whispered, knowing he had no idea where they were headed, but it was somewhere together. “Okay, it’s your turn to answer. Why didn’t you sell the farm and just move to town and get a job, instead of bounty hunting?”

Meg shook her head. “That’s easy. We tried menial jobs, and we all three got fired. Annabelle wouldn’t accept the owner patting her on the ass. Ruby was almost raped by that stupid Mullens kid, and Ho Chin fired me because I took my wages out of the cash drawer. He wasn’t going to pay me. I had no choice but to take what he owed me.”

A fierce, protective anger flowed like a river through Zach’s chest. He hated Ho Chinn and now he understood why. The man always seemed to be trying to get something for free.

“Why didn’t you come to me and ask for my help?” How many other women in town had suffered from these three men? When he got back to Zenith, he’d be paying them each a visit to talk about how they could be arrested.

“For what? I think men have been taking advantage of women who don’t have a man for centuries. Those three men are no different from most. You can’t arrest every single one of them. We stood up for ourselves, and that resulted in our getting fired. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said with a slur. “Now the bank is almost completely paid off, and we have food on the table. We’re no longer starving.”

He admired her spunk, her perseverance, and how she had taken her sisters from losing the farm to having the loan almost completely paid off without the help of anyone.

“I think we’re going to run out of whiskey before someone wins,” Zach said, his head feeling groggy. The pain in his shoulder had dulled to a small ache, instead of throbbing with his every heartbeat.

She grabbed the bottle from him and took a swig. “There’s still enough for two more rounds. Or are you ready to cry uncle?”

“No, ask away. I’ll answer your questions.”

“How many girls have you kissed? Made love to?”

The question sent a tremor charging down his spine. He wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a complete sinner either. Yeah, he’d kissed a lot of pretty girls when he was growing up, but not since he’d stopped running with his brothers. They were a wild bunch who’d enjoyed a good calico cat occasionally. Zach no longer played with fire for fear he’d get burned.

He shook his head. “Nope. That’s two questions. You only get one.”

“Then answer my first one, but you better not guzzle the rest of the whiskey to keep from answering the second,” she said, her voice low and commanding.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to answer her second question. A man didn’t tell a lady how many lovers he’d had. Maybe the direction of the game needed to change and quick. “I wouldn’t do that. That wouldn’t be fair, though, it’s tempting,” he said with a chuckle.

Meg swayed toward him, the whiskey clearly affecting her. “Yeah, well, who said life was fair? I think you would drink it all just to keep from answering my question.”

“I can’t remember how many women I’ve kissed. You have to understand I was raised with three brothers and well…there was a time when we were all kind of rough and randy. So I’ve kissed a fair number of gals.”

“Damn. Am I the only woman who has only kissed one man? Even Ruby has kissed more men than me.”

He reached over and drunkenly caressed her cheek. “I find that very charming. I’d like to be the man who showed you just how much fun kissing can be. But I don’t think that’s going to happen tonight,” he said with a slur, his eyes heavy and his head feeling like it weighed twenty pounds. It didn’t want to stay straight. The alcohol was beginning to affect his vision, and his mind was having a hard time focusing.

He took the bottle from her. “As for your other question, a gentleman never tells.” With a laugh, he held the bottle to his lips.

“Maybe a lady never tells as well.”

If only he didn’t have a shoulder wound, they would be doing more than just talking. But then again, they wouldn’t be out here on the trail alone if he hadn’t gotten hurt. But still, the desire to prove to her that he knew she was a virgin was so tempting.

“Oh, honey, I know you’re a virgin. If you haven’t been kissed, you have never experienced being with a man.”

She pulled back from him. “How do you know I’m not lying?”

He glanced over the top of the bottle. “If that’s not a challenging statement, I’ve never heard one. If I didn’t have this injured shoulder or had drunk almost this entire bottle of whiskey, we’d be finding out whether or not you’ve been with a man.”

“Not unless I agreed,” she said.

He leaned in close to her, his mouth mere inches from hers. Licking his lips, he stared at her full lips, her tiny mouth, and so wanted to taste her. He wanted to start at her cheek and work his way south, lingering in the juncture between her thighs, where his head had been resting earlier. Oh, there was so much of her he wanted to explore.

“By the time I got through kissing and touching and whispering how much I want you, I think you’d be mine,” he said, his voice low and ragged.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she murmured against his lips.

“A weak man doesn’t get what he wants.” And Lord knew he wanted her, even in his inebriated state.

“Ask me a question,” she said.

He leaned back and gazed at her intently. “What do you want for a wedding present?”

She stared at him, her green eyes widening in surprise. “What did you just say?” She grabbed the bottle from his hand and finished it off.

“I said what do you want for a wedding present?”

“Are you talking specifically you or just anyone?”

“Well, hell, I’m not trying to find out for some sage hen in town. I want to know what you want from me as a wedding present,” he said, not really even sure why he was asking, but knowing he was going to pursue her. He’d already made his mind up, and it didn’t matter if she said no, he would hunt her down until she said yes.

She stared at him and shook her head. “Damn you, Zach. When I wanted you to marry me, you didn’t defend me. When I don’t want you to marry me, you start trying to court me. Why in the world would I want to marry an ornery cowboy like yourself?”

He pulled her into his arms, his face inches from hers. “Because I’m regretting my actions that night. I think having you as my wife would be a challenge I would love waking up to every day.”

He covered her mouth with his and tried to focus on how he wanted to take her. How he wanted to explore her body and taste his way from her mouth all the way to her toes. How he wanted to bring the passion he sensed just beneath the surface out into the open. He wanted to feel her surrender beneath him and hear her call out his name in excitement.

He wanted Meg like no other woman he’d ever met, and yet, his shoulder rendered his arm useless, and the liquor was making him feel lethargic and drowsy. Suddenly, he felt his eyes closing and his body giving way to the numbness of the alcohol. And then he slumped against Meg.

The last thing he heard was “You picked one hell of a time to pass out, cowboy.”

*

Meg awoke to birds chirping. It sounded like they were in her room at home. She wondered how they’d come into the house. She shifted on her side, and it was then she felt the large arm thrown across her middle, warmth spread across her back, and something hot and hard against her backside.

A nice delicious sense of heat skittered down her spine, landing in the region of her stomach then sliding even lower.

She opened her eyes and sat up. When she did, the world spun a crazy tilt and the memory from the night before came rushing back. Her head pounded like an army paraded through it, and her mouth was cottony with the nasty taste of alcohol.

She moaned and grabbed the side of her head. Why had she drunk so much? The memory of their drinking game came rushing back, and nausea overwhelmed her.

Zach lay on his good side, facing her, his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open as he gently snored.

Of all the insults, he’d passed clean out last night while he’d been kissing her. Right in the middle of a lip-lock, she’d realized he was no longer moving. He was no longer kissing. His eyes were closed.

And darn it, she’d been enjoying his kisses. She’d enjoyed his company and the twinkle in his eye when he’d asked her who she’d kissed. And then he’d passed out, and she’d won the game.

Slowly, she rose from the bedroll on the hard ground. She stood, and the world seemed to whirl around her. She felt dizzy and nauseous, and somehow she had to get coffee boiling.

Hurriedly, she went into the bushes and did her business then came back out and dug through her supplies. She poured water from the canteen into the pot, put it on to boil, then went to check on the horses.

With each step, her head pounded and her stomach roiled, leaving her wishing she’d never met Zach Gillespie, never consumed a bottle of whiskey, or even heard of Simon Trudeau. She hated being sick, and this was self-induced.

The horses were still staked out, and she moved them to a new area, where they could eat more grass. Suddenly, her stomach rebelled at the amount of alcohol she’d consumed, and she bent over in the grass and threw up.