Brides of the West (24 page)

Inside the cell she pulled the door closed
behind her and fitted the key in the lock until she heard it
click.

She slid under the bed with the blanket. She
whispered, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.” The
Twenty-third Psalm, which she’d recited repetitively while hiding
from the Yankees during the war, poured from her lips. Violent
smashing of the window caused her to cover her ears and shudder
with fear. They were coming through the window!

“Well, that bitch has to be here. We ain’t
found her no place else in town.”

Annabelle held her breath.

“The boss says to kill her, but nothing says
we can’t have fun first.”

“Ain’t no other place in town would take her.
She being a whore and all.”

How could she be a whore? She’d never even
been with a man. Pain and fear gripped her. Would they find a way
into the cell? She didn’t dare breathe.

“Where you at whore?” one called out.
“Finished servicing the sheriff? We’re next.”

They moved through the jail. “Come on out
here, girl, we want some, too. Just give us some of what you gave
the sheriff.”

She pulled herself as far into the corner as
possible. Memories of the war spiked through her. The blanket
filled her mouth to muffle any sounds she might make. Only the
scarcest of breaths reached her lungs.

The men rattled the cell door. It held. “Come
on, whore, open up.” The door rattled violently. “We’ll get you one
way or another.”

“Step away from that cell!” Josh’s thundering
voice filled the jail and chased away her fear. “Turn around and
put your hands on the wall.”

“We ain’t doin’ nothin’.” The cell door
rattled again. Gunshots filled the air.

Did they kill Josh? Her heart sank until she
heard his voice.

“Annabelle! It’s Josh. Where are you?”
Footsteps moved toward the cell. The door rattled. She looked out
from under the cot. Josh stood at the cell door. She thanked
God.

“Annabelle, are you hurt?” He rattled the
door. “Where’s the key?”

“I have it.”

“Josh, you in there?” She recognized Roger
Miller’s voice.

“Yeah. We have two dead in here.” He looked
at her. She saw anger in his eyes, but it wasn’t for her.

“What happened?” Roger asked.

“These two broke into the jail. Miss Yeager
locked herself in the cell to protect herself.” Both men eyed her,
standing there in her nightgown and bare feet. “They refused to
surrender and drew on me.”

“He was one bad hombre,” Roger opined,
craning his neck to look at one of them. “Kicked dogs and kids for
no reason.”

“Would you open the cell, Miss Yeager?” Josh
asked.

She retrieved the key and shakily unlocked
the door. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and used his
body to shield her from the dead while ushering her into the front
office. She sat in one of the chairs, her head in her hands. Josh
got a blanket and wrapped it around her. His hands rested on her
shoulders for a few moments reassuring her.

“Roger, go find the undertaker and get
something to board up this window. I want them out of here,” he
gestured toward the bodies.

“What happened? Don’t leave anything out.”
Josh asked her.

“I was asleep when someone knocked on the
door and started yelling. I did like you said and ignored it.” She
pulled the blanket closer. “He continued to pound. I got the keys
and locked myself in the cell. They broke the window and came in. I
hid under the bunk.”

“Did they say anything?”

“They said they wanted what you got.” She
stiffened. “They called me a...a whore. One said the boss wanted
them to...to kill me, but he wanted to have fun first.” Just having
Josh close calmed her. He would protect her.

“Well, you can’t stay here now. Once Roger
gets back, I’ll take you to my place and you can stay there. I’ll
stay here.” He looked around.

***

Damn. This was his fault. Josh knew he
shouldn’t have left her alone. Someone had killed Barry Woods and
now someone had attempted to kill her. It had to be connected to
the Chances Are. Once again, a woman he cared about had been hurt
because he hadn’t protected her. This was the last time. He would
keep her safe and find the culprit.

Moments later others arrived and he sent
them away. He had no patience with people who were just too nosy
for their own good and besides he didn’t want people gawking.
Reverend Huddleston showed up uninvited and went to the back to
pray for the not so dearly departed.

“Reverend, I would appreciate it if you’d put
your efforts into comforting the living.” He motioned at Annabelle.
Although he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, it
wasn’t proper. How had she gotten under his skin so fast?

The Reverend moved over to Annabelle. She
looked up at Huddleston. Her eyes, how Josh loved her eyes.

“Oh dear, what a trial you’ve endured.”

“Thank you, Reverend, but I’m quite all
right. You can return home.”

Thank God she dismissed the windbag. Josh
ushered the man to the door. “Thank you, Reverend. I’m sure Digger
will let you know about the funerals.” Recognizing the man’s
reluctance to leave, he quickly added, “I’m certain Mrs. Huddleston
is worried.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure she is.” The minister
rushed out of the jail like the devil was on his coattails.

“We didn’t need him,” Roger said as he showed
up with Digger, the undertaker.

Josh walked to the cell area with them and
picked up the dead men’s guns. “They won’t be needing these now.
Take them out the back door.” He unlocked it.

“Yes, sir,” the undertaker responded. “I’ll
just move the wagon around back.” He left through the front door
only to enter through the back a few minutes later.

“I’m going to take Miss Yeager to my room.
I’ll be back directly.” He took her arm and thought more about his
decision to let her stay first at the jail and then his room.
“Don’t anyone go thinking bad things about Miss Yeager and me. I’ll
be bunking here at the jail, like I should have in the first
place.”

As he spoke, he found himself staring at
Annabelle. The blanket had slipped loose and the silhouette of her
curvaceous body in her nightgown danced eerily against the dimly
lit lantern as it mesmerized him beyond redemption. Without
hesitation, he rewrapped the cover around her.

He slammed the door behind them and walked
her through the dark, deserted street.

At the blacksmith’s shop, he took her to his
room. The room was neat because he had yet to sleep in it that
night. No matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t get Annabelle out
of his mind—her eyes, her lips, and her body. He’d imagined her
softness, her fragrance and the taste of her sweetness. He’d wanted
to be near her and was making rounds for the third time when they’d
broken into the jail.

Now he wanted to stay and hold her, but he
couldn’t. She had to have been scared out of her wits just like in
the war. How could such a fragile looking beauty be so brave and
tough?

She crawled up on the bed, her legs hanging
over the edge.

“You stay here. Do you know how to use a
gun?”

“Yes. Pa and my brothers made sure I could
use a pistol and shotgun.”

“I’ve got a shotgun.” He pulled it out of a
corner. “Keep it by the bed. If anyone you don’t know shows up,
shoot first and ask questions later.”

She nodded.

“Go to sleep, no one will bother you here.”
Of course, he’d said the very same thing about the jail. Josh
tucked her in his bed and watched her close her angel eyes. His
pants tightened as he hardened. He stepped out the door, locking it
behind him.

When he returned to the jail, the bodies were
gone. He’d scrub the blood stains later.

Stretched out on the same bunk where
Annabelle had slept, he thought about what she’d said. Someone
wanted her dead. Why? The answer kept coming back to the Chances
Are Saloon. Barry Woods owned it and someone murdered him.
Annabelle had saved herself from the same fate.

He was too tired for serious thinking.
Changing his mind, he arose, found the brush and a bucket in the
backroom and started to scrub the blood. Damn, they hadn’t given
him any choice. He’d much preferred capturing them so he could find
out who hired them. No doubt there would be another attempt on
Annabelle’s life. Much as he wanted to kill the person who hired
them, he’d let him meet Judge King who didn’t have a compassionate
bone in his body. He scrubbed harder.

Finished with the cleanup, his mind drifted
as he drank another cup of coffee. Annabelle kept invading his
thoughts. Her cute little bare feet under the nightgown, tousled
hair, pretty face and bow lips caused his body to hum with
anticipation. He wasn’t a randy schoolboy, but a twenty-eight year
old man who wasn’t celibate. The last time he’d given away his
heart had been to his fiancée, but heck, he wasn’t giving it away
this time—Annabelle was stealing it.

Earlier, he’d sent Roger to the hardware
store about the broken window. While Josh was making his rounds,
Doug Tipton, the hardware store owner, made the repair. Everything
seemed normal in town except for women raising their noses at him,
which he took in stride.

Doug met him on the sidewalk. “You want me to
put that wender on your bill?”

Hell no. “No, it’s the county’s window. Send
the bill to them.” He took two steps and stopped. “Why would you
think I’d pay for it?”

“Guess because it was yor girlfriend
sleepin’ in the jail. Wender wouldn’t gotten broke if she hadn’t
been in the jail.” Doug rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned on
his broom. “She should’ve gone to the Chances Are. There’s plenty
of room there.”

He grabbed Doug and slammed him up against
the wall. “Miss Yeager is a lady. She couldn’t stay with whores and
have any hope of ever holding her head up in Shiloh Springs.”

A crowd quickly gathered and he turned to
face them. “She came here with only one intention—to get married.
Woods died and left her a way to survive—the saloon.” He saw the
preacher standing in the crowd. “I ought to rip down that cross on
the church because it doesn’t mean a thing in Shiloh Springs. Not
one of you has followed the golden rule. I’m ashamed of being
sheriff here.” He took off the badge and handed it to Mr.
Landers.

Then he saw Annabelle standing at the edge
of the group, fear pooled in her eyes.

Immediately he strode over to her. “Miss
Yeager, may I escort you to breakfast?”

The crowd parted and he walked her to
Gloria’s.

***

Annabelle felt sick at
heart as she picked at her food. She’d been nothing but trouble to
Josh since she’d arrived in town and hated herself for it. Maybe
she
should
get on
the next stage out of town after all.

“I think you ought to sell the Chances Are
Saloon. It ain’t nothing but trouble.” He cut into a stack of
flapjacks and lifted the fork to his mouth. “In fact, you should do
yourself a favor and just close it.”

“I can’t afford to close it.” She wasn’t sure
how much money she had left and the place had lots of
customers.

“It’s a nuisance. Why I’m, or was, over there
at least once a day and more on weekends.” He took another bite of
flapjacks.

“I asked Mr. Landers about selling it, but he
said there weren’t any takers. I have another idea, though.” Her
throat was dry so she sipped some more coffee. “I could turn the
social club into a hotel and make the Chances Are a
restaurant.”

His fork stopped mid-air. She thought he’d
started to say something, but didn’t.

She continued with her idea. “The ladies will
have to move out, of course. And I’ll have to replace the beds and
fix up the rooms. It could take a week or two.”

“Personally, I still think you ought to
close it.” He took another bite. “But it’s yours. Talk to Mr.
Webber at the bank and Mr. Landers. Meanwhile you’ll stay in my
room. The sooner you do something, the better.”

Annabelle struggled to understand him. She
thought he’d like her idea. Last night he’d held her and made her
feel safe, but now he treated her like a stranger. She needed to
hold him, touch him, and feel his quiet strength. What had she done
to lose her only friend?

“I’ll walk you over to the bank.” Josh stood
and paid Gloria. When Annabelle followed him out the door, he took
her arm and led her to the bank. It wasn’t the closeness she
wanted, but she’d take what she could get.

Ted Webber sat in his office. “Sheriff. Miss
Yeager. Mr. Woods was a valued customer. Mr. Landers brought the
documents and opened an account in your name. I transferred Mr.
Woods’ account into yours.” He pulled out a small booklet and
handed it to her. She looked at it. Her balance was over four
hundred dollars. A gasp escaped her.

Josh took it. He lifted a brow before
returning it to her.

“How soon can I have some of the money?”
Anticipation filled her. She had enough money to make her plan
work.

“Whenever you want it. Just bring the book
and tell Mr. Smiley how much you want.” He rose. “Now if you’ll
excuse me, I have a prior engagement. Thank you, Miss Yeager.”

Josh ushered her out to the lobby. Lauren
Thamann blocked the door and stared at her.

“Lauren.” Josh acknowledged her
presence.

“Sheriff,” the madam said, walking toward the
banker’s office.

Josh’s hand rested on Annabelle’s back as he
guided her outside. She savored his touch.

“I need to speak to Mr. Johnson,” she
said.

“And I need to see Landers. He’s president
of the town council and I need to give him the keys and make it
official. I expect I’ll see you later.” He tipped his hat, turned
and walked away.

She felt his loss and walked to the
Emporium. She met with Mr. Johnson and ordered a bed, linens, and a
small chest for each room in her hotel and other supplies with
delivery in a week. He practically rubbed his hands together in
glee as Mrs. Johnson sneered at her.