Marshal Law (2 page)

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Authors: Kris Norris

Tags: #Paranormal, Multiple Partner, Historical

BOOK: Marshal Law
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She glanced away, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the sudden thrumming of her heart. She must be far more exhausted than she’d thought. She hadn’t felt much of anything in ten years. Any reaction was purely coincidental

a by-product of endless towns and nameless faces. She rubbed her fingertips across her forehead when his gaze snagged hers in the mirror. A flash of red colored his eyes before he blinked it away, a scowl shaping his full lips as he seemed to grunt out a breath. She inhaled sharply, staring at him again before breaking eye contact. Damn. Now she was seeing things.

The guy moved to the seat next to her, his friend following suit on her other side. Neither spoke, just turned to stare at her, their hands resting on the counter. She tried to focus on her food, ignoring the way their presence made her feel restless

like the air before a storm. The second man was just as handsome as the first, his large shoulders seemingly taking up every inch of her peripheral vision. His blond hair poked out from beneath a dark hat, his full lips curved slightly down at the edges. His jaw looked as scruffy as the other man, only his beard mimicked the light shades of his hair.

She eased back as she chewed on her food, finally acknowledging their continued stares. “You orderin’ something or just lookin’?” She turned slightly to face the dark-haired man, allowing her gaze to travel the length of his body, noting details she’d missed before. She sighed, twisting back to the bar. “Marshal.”

His mouth quirked, lifting his lips at one corner. “What makes you think I’m a marshal?”

“You mean besides the clothes and the badge you’re trying to hide by your hip?”

He glanced at his waist where only a glimpse of his star peeked out beyond his jacket. “Besides that.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Your choice of weapon. Not many men carry a double-action Colt other than Texas Rangers.


And we

re not Rangers because
…”


Because Rangers don’t hide their badges. Everyone in this place would have known you were here the moment you stepped through those swingin’ doors.

“I’ll try to remember that. And I couldn’t help but notice you’ve got the same weapon strapped on both your hips.”

She spared him a quick look. “Every second counts.”


Can’t argue you with that.”

She nodded and continued eating, acting as if he wasn’t even there. She watched as the two men exchanged glances, something passing unspoken between them.

She barely turned her head, a weary sigh feathering from her full lips.

You

re both marshals? You thought you’d need two to handle me?

The guy leaned toward her. “You are McKenna Buchanan, aren’t you?”

She chuckled, finally looking directly at him. Those eyes made her heart race again, the sheer beauty of them stealing her breath. She glanced at his partner, noting a similar reaction as she stared into stunning blue orbs, the color reminding her of pure mountain water. “You’d be feelin’ awfully foolish if I wasn’t.”

He flashed a stunning smile. “That’s not an answer.”

“It wasn’t really a question.” She nodded at her bowl. “Can I at least finish eating? Haven’t had a hot meal in longer than I can remember.”

The marshal frowned before looking over at his partner.

The guy shook his head, moving closer to her, dragging another shot of whiskey with him. “You do realize you’ve been charged with killing seven men?”

She swallowed another chunk of meat, wiping the edge of her mouth with a cloth. “You do realize those men were outlaws?”

“Outlaws or not, the President doesn’t condone people taking the law into their own hands.”

Her laugh felt genuine this time. “Then perhaps the President should have more lawmen to keep his people safe.” She eased away, looking from one man to the other. “And I didn’t kill them. I challenged them to a duel when they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They simply lost.”

The first guy grinned, brushing his hand along her arm, frowning when she tensed and pulled back. “You outshot seven of Bret Wilson’s gang? How?”

Anger heated her cheeks as she scraped the chair back. “As I’ve told others. The West is a dangerous place. Pays to know how to handle a gun.”

She reached for her pocket, arching a brow when both men palmed their weapons.

“Easy there, fellas. I’m only tryin’ to pay for my dinner. Reckon I wasn’t going to have time to finish it after all, not with the way you

re both dancin’ around as if you can

t sit still.

She placed some money on the bar, nodding at the blond. “You gonna drink that whiskey?”

The guy looked at the glass in front of his hands. “Be my guest.”

She smiled her thanks, cupped the glass and downed the liquid, closing her eyes as she swallowed, fire burning a path down her throat. She savored the warmth that seeped into her chest

the rare moment when everything else disappeared

then placed the glass back on the counter with shaking fingers. “Thanks.”

She glanced toward the entrance, cursing under her breath as a figure moved through the doors. Damn if only the bastard had walked in before the marshals had.

She sighed, palming the bar as she openly measured them up. “Tell me something, Marshals


“McClaren. Ethan McClaren and this is my partner, Jude Davenport.”

She huffed. “No names. I don’t want to know your names. But I am curious if you two can handle those guns strapped to your hips?”

The guy called Jude crowded closer, his massive size dwarfing her. “You plan on challenging us?”

She exhaled a weary breath, tensing again when Jude brushed against her. Damn, what was it about these men that made her want to arch into their casual contact instead of run from it? She glanced over her shoulder at him, acutely aware that his presence sent a similar shiver racing down her spine. “Do you really think I’ve survived this long by making stupid decisions? Give me some credit. I’d plan any action accordingly. And taking on two armed marshals in the middle of a saloon wouldn’t be my first choice.” She glanced at the door again. “Unfortunately, not everyone in this establishment shares my feelings.”

Ethan glanced at the door, muttering under his breath.

“So you recognize Bret Wilson when you see him. Restores my faith just a bit.” She moved over to a vacant table, sliding into the seat. “I suggest you boys sit down and see how this plays out. Too many people in here to make a stand.”

She focused on Bret, vaguely aware of the two marshals reclaiming their seats. She didn’t have time to worry about them, trusting they could hold their own if it came to that. Instead, she watched Bret wander around the saloon, continuously glancing at her before finally making his way over. He kicked out one of the chairs and sat, arms along the back, legs straddling the seat. His brother trailed after him, claiming the other stool, leaning his elbows on table as he openly gawked at her.

Bret grinned. “Well, well. Who have we got here, Frank?”

His brother laughed. “Looks like we’ve found the lady we’ve been looking for. McKenna Buchanan, isn

t it? And we didn’t even have to leave town.”

She smiled. “Mighty nice of you boys to save me the trouble of huntin’ you down. Didn’t realize you had any redeeming qualities.”

Bret’s grin faded.

Not very ladylike, talkin

like that. Makes me think you need a lesson in manners.


When I find a gentleman, I

ll be sure to ask for some.


Maybe
gentle
isn

t what you need?

He rose to his feet, lunging toward her. She reacted, knocking back her chair as she drew her pistol in one quick, fluid motion. Bret stopped as she leveled the gun at Frank

s head, her thumb half-cocking the trigger. She held still, watching them both, acutely aware that the two marshals had slipped off their stools, hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.

Bret openly assessed her, a cocky grin lifting one edge of his mouth.

You can

t kill both of us,
darlin

.


And you can

t draw before I put a bullet through Frank

s head.

Bret tipped his head back, laughing to the point the din of chatter quieted in the saloon.

Well, I

ll be damned, brother. We got ourselves a tough one.

He held up his hands, palms facing her as he reclaimed his seat, that cocky smile still curving his mouth. He waved at the barkeep then focused back on her.

Looks like you

ve got our attention.

He nodded at her pistol.

You can lower that gun now, unless you

re plannin’ on killing us while we sit here, sharin’ a drink?

She snorted as three whiskeys appeared in front of them, the barman all but dropping them on the table before rushing away. Bret and Frank each grabbed one, motioning toward the third. She lowered the gun, keeping it parallel with the table as she dragged the chair back into place, taking a seat then snagging the glass and downing it in one swallow, never taking her focus off the two men. Twin grins stared back at her as they followed suit, slamming the empty cups on the stained wood.

Bret tilted his head, his gaze drifting to her chest then up again.

The gun.

She removed her thumb, gently easing the hammer back into place before resting her elbow on the table, the muzzle still aimed their way.

This is fine.


Not very sportin’ of ya.


Neither are those three boys you walked in with as backup. Makes it five against one.


What boys?

She cracked a smile.

The large, scruffy one at the end of the bar. That mouse of a man over beside the door, and the blond talking to that lady behind you.

Bret glanced around the room, settling on the last guy.

That ain

t no lady he

s talkin’ to.


I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.

He raised his brows.

You

ve got a keen eye.


I don

t need a keen eye to know how you boys operate. I

m bettin’ you have at least six more men outside, only they

re armed with rifles instead of revolvers. I

m thinking two across the street, watching the door. A few scattered along the rooftops, on the off chance I try to sneak away, and one guardin’ your horses in case the local sheriff gets concerned. Just my luck, this town lost its only lawman a few weeks back.

She leaned forward slightly.

Don

t suppose you know anything about that?

Frank sneered at her.

Not a damn thing. But rumor has it the man started pokin’ his nose where it didn

t belong. Ended up getting it shot off.


Unfortunate. Seems to be a rash of dying lawmen in these parts. I understand they lost their marshal a few months ago.


Don

t need no badge out here. A good weapon solves most problems.


Starts them, too.

He snorted, glancing at his brother.

You seem to know your way around them, as Will Tanner can attest to.


Will Tanner was a bastard who deserved so much more than the quick death he got. Don

t suppose you two are going to be as honorable as he was and accept a fair duel?

Both men laughed again, the sound disturbingly loud.

Bret shook his head.

You

re challengin’ us to a duel?


Is there something wrong with your hearing? Or are you both just too dumb to understand the words. I can speak slower if it

ll help.

Bret

s cocky smile faded, anger coloring his cheeks.

Watch your mouth or we

ll find something else to do with it.


What

s wrong, Bret? Afraid I

ll beat you in a fair fight? Lord knows you prefer your women tied up or held down so they can’t fight back.


If you really think you can take both of us on, then by all means

let

s go.

He pushed to his feet, glaring down at her.

You’ve got ten minutes or we come back in. And trust me when I tell you no one in here is going to stop us when we mount you on this fucking table. So you’d best not keep us waitin’. Oh and darlin’, come out alone. Anyone else joins you outside and they’ll be the first to die. Hell, they won’t make it down the steps.

He spun on his heels, Frank

s gaze lingering on her a few moments longer before he slowly rose, mouthing a kiss at her before turning and weaving his way through the tables. A ripple of conversation followed their progression, as gazes swung toward her before returning to the door. McKenna released a shaky breath as she watched them leave, the hollow echo of their footsteps disappearing amidst renewed chatter. A hand landed on her shoulder, and she glanced up, pinned by a set of deep-brown eyes.

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