Sweet Silken Bondage (44 page)

They went straight to the jail, but hesitated outside for fear that Charley might overhear them.
Tapping on the window, the two men motioned for
the sheriff to come out.

"Carter," Macauley called his deputy who was in
back with the prisoner.

"Yeah, what d'ya need?"

"I'll be out front for a while. Seems I got somebody who wants to talk in private" He didn't know
what was going on, but he intended to find out. He
felt good about arresting Stevens, for he'd found that
his gun was the same caliber as the one that had
been used to kill Santana.

Macauley was cautious as he emerged from the
jailhouse. He carried the shotgun with him as he
went to meet with Stevens's two friends.

"You gentlemen wanting something?"

"We need to talk to you, Sheriff. It's real important. I think you'll want to hear what we have to
say"

Macauley studied them silently for a minute and,
reading the terror in their eyes, knew this might be
the break he'd been waiting for. "Who are you?
What are your names?"

"I'm Bucky-Bucky Porter" he answered quickly,
skittishly.

"And I'm Rex Jones"

"Well now, what can I do for you?" he asked,
eyeing them suspiciously as he maneuvered himself
into a position that, if the need arose, he'd be able
to get off a clear shot at them. He didn't put it past
them that they just might try to break their friend
out.

"We got somethin' to tell you," Bucky began anxiously.

"Like what?"

"Like we didn't have nothing to do with shooting
Santana! No matter what Charley says!" he blurted
out.

"It wasn't us, Sheriff! We didn't do it!" Rex added.

Macauley couldn't believe his ears. Excitement
burst through him, but he contained it. He kept his
expression emotionless as he regarded these two.
They obviously thought Stevens had told him something, and they wanted him to know their version of
what had happened. He allowed himself a small
smile. One thing about killers, they generally weren't
too bright, and many of them were just plain stupid.

"Why don't you tell me your story, and we'll see?"
he led the conversation.

"All right..." Bucky stepped farther back into
the shadows and Rex moved with him. "We were out
riding, and we came to Santana's ranch. He was
alone, and we knew he had some money."

"One thing led to another, and he ordered us off
his property," Rex went on. "Charley got mad and
shot him down like a dog when he was walking away
from us. We took the money and split it up. Charley
got the biggest part 'cause he did the shootin', but he
told us if he was ever arrested that he'd see that we
got blamed, too."

"I see," the sheriff replied, nodding. He needed
more information, and so he asked, "How does
O'Keefe figure in all this? Was he with you?"

"O'Keefe?" Bucky looked puzzled. "No, we don't
know the man. I don't know how he even got
involved in this, but he ain't the one who killed
Santana. It was Charley."

"So Stevens riled up the crowd over at the saloon
thinking to get O'Keefe hung, so nobody would be
asking any more questions about Santana's death?"

"That's about it," Bucky confirmed.

"Right. He was gettin' worried, 'cause you hadn't
hung O'Keefe yet. He was wantin' to help things
along a bit," Rex added.

Macauley was thrilled to hear this and proud that his instincts had been correct. He still didn't know
how O'Keefe's medallions had gotten out to Santana's ranch or where the money in his saddlebags
had come from, and it didn't matter any more. He
had the real killer locked up all nice and tight in his
jail. It had been a very rewarding 24 hours, and
well worth the ride out to see Wily. He'd have to
remember to reward the old man when he came
back to town.

"Will you two be willing to testify in court to
this?" he pressed, wanting to be sure of his case.

"What would happen to us?" Rex balked.

"Nothing. I'll see to it. Well keep Stevens locked
up until the trial, so you won't have to worry about
him. As far as a hanging goes, you can be sure
there'll be one soon, but it won't be O'Keefe's."

"Then you ain't arresting us?"

"No, just stick around. Stay in town so I can find
you if I need you."

"We got rooms over at the hotel."

"All right. Don't get any ideas about leaving, boys.
I need your testimony, and I'll track you to hell and
back if you try to get away."

"Yes, sir. Don't worry. We'll stay put."

"I'll be speaking to you soon."

Bucky and Rex rushed off, disappearing into the
shadows of the alley. Macauley watched them go, his
smile broadening. O'Keefe was innocent. He'd been
right all along.

It was near dark, but Dev lingered on in the
barn not yet willing to go back inside. He'd had
enough of being walled up. He needed open spaces
and fresh air. He paused in the last of the failing
light and surveyed his handiwork, noting with pride
how much he'd accomplished in the short time he'd
been working. The old building would never be a
showplace, but it was sturdy enough now to withstand use. He could easily visualize some healthy
breeding stock taking up residence here, a growing
herd of cattle out in the field beyond and maybe
even a dog or two running around the place. He'd
always wanted a dog of his own for some reason, he
mused distractedly.

When Dev realized the direction of his thoughts,
he sighed dispiritedly. He didn't know why he kept
daydreaming about a future that was forbidden to
him. It only made it that much more painful to
accept the reality of his situation when he kept
fantasizing about a life of loving Molly, of taking
care of her and her family.

Thoughts of the Magees would not be so easily
put away from him, though. He'd become inordinately fond of Jimmy, having worked side by side with him in cleaning up the barn. He was a good,
quick-learning, intelligent boy, and Dev knew he
could go far in life if he got the chance. He'd met
Molly's mother the day before when she'd finally felt
good enough to venture from her sick bed. The
woman was as kind and gentle and fair-minded as
her daughter. He'd been grateful when, even after
Molly had told her the complete truth, she'd accepted his presence without question. And then
there was Molly.. .always nearby, always smiling,
always enchantingly lovely.

Ah, Molly.. .Despite his mood, he smiled
bittersweetly into the gloom that was slowly surrounding him as the sun sank lower in the western
sky. She was the brightness in his existence. Her
faith in him never wavered. If anything, her belief
in his innocence had only grown more strong with
each passing day, and it amazed him. She never
doubted he could eventually be released. She kept
reassuring him, telling him that the sheriff believed
in him, too, and that he would soon be free.

Dev wished he shared her conviction that everything would turn out all right, but too many times
in his life he'd seen the cruel twists that fate could
play on you. He wanted to believe that he would
get out of this mess unscathed, his reputation intact. He wanted to believe that he could have a
future with her, that they could marry, have children and grow old together. But the harsh realist
he'd become through the years refused to allow him
that dream.

He loved Molly more than he'd ever loved anyone, but with that love came a deep abiding respect
and caring. He refused to be a source of hurt for
her. He didn't want to cause her any pain. So,
since that first night here at her house, he'd held himself slightly aloof from her, even though the
longing he had for her in his own heart gnawed at
him endlessly.

Dev wondered how much longer this could go on.
Surely, he mused in frustration, purgatory couldn't
be any worse. He was surrounded by a loving
family, but he could never be a part of it. If only
things had been different. But they weren't, he
warned himself sternly. He was an accused murderer. His future looked less than bleak. Short of
Clay showing up with some wonderful new shred of
evidence, he didn't see how any of this was going to
change.

The sound of footsteps outside alerted him, and
because of the ever growing darkness he couldn't see
who was coming. Though he'd been safe so far, he
never let his guard down; just one mistake could
prove fatal. He was about to dive behind one of the
walled stalls when he heard Molly softly call out his
name. He relaxed and went to meet her as she
came through the ramshackle door.

"Dev? I didn't know how much longer you were
going to work, but dinner's ready up at the house."
She stopped just inside the doorway to look around
for him.

He feasted his eyes on her, the beauty of her
burnished hair as it tumbled about her shoulders,
the gentle curves of her slender figure. He ached to
sweep her up in a lover's embrace, to hold her and
kiss her for all eternity, but he didn't. Mentally, he
chided himself for even thinking such thoughts.

"Here, Molly."

Molly's heart was pounding when she spotted him
in the shadowy interior. He came walking toward
her, his stride confident and easy and so manly. His
shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open to the waist, revealing just a teasing view of his broad
chest, and his bearded jaw, unshaven since he'd
come to stay with them, made him seem a bit
untamed, yet even more masculine, if that was
possible.

She hurried forward, eager to be with him again.
It had only been a matter of hours since she'd last
seen him, but it seemed like days. The time at the
restaurant was miserable for her now that she knew
Dev was here. She always hurried straight back
home as soon as she could.

"I've fixed something good tonight, since it's my
only night off from the restaurant," she told him
cheerfully, giving him her brightest smile. She was
tempted to throw herself into his arms, but she held
back.

"Your meals are always good, Molly."

She glowed under his praise. "Thanks, but tonight is special. We've got chicken and dumplings,
and I even made a pie. Are you finished working
here?"

"Yeah, it's getting too dark to do any more."

"Let's go on up to the house then. Jimmy can
hardly wait to attack the pie."

Dev chuckled as they left the barn and started up
the path. "I imagine he's got quite an appetite. I
worked him hard today."

"I really appreciate you being so nice to him. Not
many men would take the time." She cast him a
sidelong glance.

"Jimmy's a good boy. I like him, and I enjoy
being around him."

"He really likes you, too."

As they neared the water pump about half-way
up to the house, he paused. "I'm pretty dirty. I'd
better get washed up before I go in. You can go on in, if you want to."

"No, that's all right. Go ahead, I'll wait for you."

Dev quickly stripped off his shirt and started to
work the pump. The muscles in his arms and across
his back flexed with the action, and Molly found
herself standing watching him, mesmerized. The
moon was out, sculpting his chest and shoulders in
silver as he began to wash, and she was nearly
overwhelmed by the crazy desire to caress that powerful sleekness.

Her pulse quickened at the thought of touching
him, and her mouth went dry. She actually felt
herself blushing, and she was glad that the cover of
the night hid her discomfort from Dev. She had
never thought a man could be beautiful, but he'd
changed that. She thought him the most glorious
man God had ever created. She had not forgotten
the heated embraces they'd shared that first night.
It had been heavenly, and she longed to know the
ecstasy of his kiss and touch again.

"How's your mother feeling tonight?" he asked as
he finished washing and was slipping his shirt back
on. He turned to face her, fighting with himself not
to notice how desirable she was or to think about
how much he wanted to kiss her. He forced himself
to concentrate on buttoning his buttons, but even
that dredged up memories of when he'd unbuttoned
Molly's buttons ...Dev stifled a groan as he
brought his errant thoughts under rigid control.

An odd disappointment filled Molly at his question, but she didn't let it show. She kept her voice
light and happy as she answered him, "She's much
better. Another day or two of rest, and I think she'll
probably be fine."

As much as Dev tried to avoid it, their gazes met
and locked as they stood there. A force more pow erful than the both of them drew them magnetically
toward each other. In another minute they would
have embraced, but a heavy footfall and the sound
of a twig snapping somewhere on the far side of the
house broke them apart.

They knew immediately that it was not Jimmy
for it was just not in his nature to move quietly.
Unable to think of anyone else who would have a
reason to be out there snooping around, Dev
grabbed her hand and they ran silently back to the
barn, seeking a hiding place there until they could
see who was coming. The tension that had enveloped them changed quickly from sensual awareness
to fear.