Taken by the Cowboy (6 page)

As soon as they reached
a table, a gunshot fired in the street, followed by some shouting.
Virgil dropped Jessica onto the floor, and she landed hard on her
tailbone.

It took a second or two
to gather her wits and comprehend what had happened. Virgil was now
storming through the swinging saloon doors, so Jessica scrambled to
her feet and dashed outside to make her escape.

She stopped dead on the
boardwalk, however, for perched high on his black horse in front of
her, looking as gorgeous and intimidating as ever, was Sheriff
Wade.

He looked down at
Virgil suspiciously. “There a problem here, Virgil?” he asked, his
blue-eyed gaze shifting instantly to Jessica. "You just can’t stay
out of trouble, can you, Junebug?"

She regarded him with
frustration. “No, Sheriff. Trouble seems to find me wherever I go,
but I’m not about to apologize to you, of all people, because this
cattle town of yours is more messed up than my daddy’s junk
drawer.”

She was surprised when
a flicker of amusement touched the corner of his mouth. He was so
handsome in the high noon sunlight, so dangerous and virile
towering above her on that big black horse, that she nearly lost
her breath.

To make matters worse,
she was practically spellbound as he leaned back in the saddle,
twirled the revolver in a few relaxed circles around his finger,
and dropped it easily into his holster.

Ah, crap, she thought
with a great wave of heated exasperation.

This is exactly
what I don’t need: a hot crush on a gorgeous gunslinger.

Somebody, just
shoot me now.

"This ain't none of
your business, Sheriff," Virgil said. "Me and the boys were just
havin' a little fun. That's all."

"Yeah?" Sheriff Wade
turned to Jessica. "The lady seems to think otherwise. She thinks
this town is messed up, and that don’t reflect well upon me."

Without a word, Jessica
picked up her parcel and moved as far away from Virgil as
possible.

"I think you boys
better be gettin' along," Wade suggested. "I need to have a few
words with Miss Delaney." He inclined his head at her and touched
the brim of his hat. She hopped off the boardwalk and stood next to
his horse.

"Just a minute there,
Junebug," Virgil said. "I ain't finished with you yet."

One of the boys in his
gang stepped forward. "Virgil, I think you oughta’—"

"Shut up, Lewis."
Virgil hawked and spit into the street. "I said I ain't finished
with you, Junebug."

Jessica was about to
step up and give Virgil a few lessons in twenty-first century
manners, but before she could utter a single colorful oath, Sheriff
Wade's hand came down to rest on her shoulder.

‘Let me handle this’
was his message, and she received it loud and clear.

Casually dismounting,
he moved to stand in front of her. Jessica rose up on her tiptoes
to see over the broad shoulders of his coat, at the same time
taking in his subtle, masculine scents—leather, a faint hint of
shaving soap, and...horse.

"Go home, Virgil," he
said.

A curious audience
began to gather on the wide street. Two wagons had come to a full
stop. The drivers sat forward with their elbows perched on their
knees. A stray dog tilted his head to the side, watching while he
panted in the hot sun.

Virgil's boys backed
away.

Sheriff Wade pushed his
slicker back to reveal his heavy gun belt loaded with bullets.

Jessica moved to the
side, her uneasy gaze roving from his shoulder down to where he
tapped his thumb against the ivory handle of the revolver.

“Listen fellas,” she
said. “Why don’t we just call it a day? No harm done.”

Virgil’s cheek
twitched. His beady eyes traced a path from the sheriff's steady
trigger finger up to his clean-shaven face.

"You ain't so tough,
Wade. I ain't never seen you kill nobody. I bet you never killed a
man your whole life."

"Think what you like,
Virgil, but you won’t put another hand on this lady. She’s a guest
in this town."

Relieved that Sheriff
Wade was finally laying the blame where it belonged, Jessica
nevertheless took another step away from him.

Virgil slowly reached
for his revolver. "I ain't gonna shoot," he said with one hand out
in front, fingers spread wide.

Jessica glanced at the
sheriff's angled profile, then down at his gun. He was still
tapping his thumb on it.

The whole town fell
silent. Folks cleared off the boardwalk and moved sideways and
backwards to stand our crouch behind wagons or barrels or whatever
else they could find. Sheriff Wade didn't move a muscle...except
for that thumb.

Virgil set his revolver
on a wooden barrel, then stepped off the boardwalk to face the
sheriff. "Let's see how tough you are, Wade. Man-to-man. Without
your gun."

"A lawman doesn’t give
up his gun," Truman replied in a slow, menacing drawl.

"Well, I'll just have
to trust you not to shoot me then…while I'm whippin’ your ass."

Sheriff Wade moved
forward to stand nose-to-nose with Virgil. "Give it your best,
Virgil, but be quick about it, because I got more important things
to do than knock your drunken arse around Front Street."

Virgil’s bushy eyebrows
pulled together in outrage. Then he swung his arm back and threw a
punch.

Sheriff Wade ducked,
and his hat flew off.

The horse backed up at
the commotion, while Wade pivoted on the spot, kicked his leg out
and caught Virgil in the knee. The heavy brute dropped to the
ground with a groan and a thump, holding onto his leg.

It was the fastest move
Jessica had ever seen.

Sheriff Wade scooped up
his hat, wrapped his hand around her elbow, and led her down the
street. She followed, but glanced back at Virgil, who was still
groaning and rolling around. One by one, folks popped up from
behind hay bales and barrels, and scuttled into the street with
caution.

"Sheriff Wade...your
horse," Jessica said.

“He’ll follow."

They hurried down Front
Street, and Jessica had to scramble to keep up. When at last they
turned the corner towards Angus's house, Truman finally slowed his
pace.

"You all right?" he
asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine.” She
brushed some dirt off her shoulder. “He was a real butthead."

Wade glanced at her
with amusement again, and Jessica found herself staring at him in
fascination, trying to understand what lay behind those deep
turquoise eyes of his. With the strong noon sun overhead, she was
able to take in the finer details of his profile—the square,
chiseled jaw and full lips over a dimpled chin, and the straight,
patrician nose. Her eyes dipped to the gun belt at his hips and the
loose fit of his black trousers, visible when the wind blew his
coat open.

There was no point
denying it. He was by far the most incredible man she’d ever
met.

Or maybe that was just
a reaction to the way he helped her back there. In a place where
she had no friends or family to call upon, besides Mr. Maxwell, it
was nice to know
someone
was watching out for her.

"You sure do like to
call attention to yourself, don’t you?" he said.

She sighed. "Yeah,
well… I didn't start that. Virgil was the one looking for
trouble."

"I'm going to have to
ask you, Miss Delaney, to make a more sincere effort not to get
people all riled up. I've worked mighty hard to keep gun firing to
a minimum in this town."

Jessica halted. "Hey, I
wasn't the one who fired the gun back there. You were."

He continued walking,
as if he hadn't heard a word she said.

Thinking it absurd that
she was capable of
riling people up
, Jessica stood for a
moment and watched him walk, his spurs jingling with each
uncompromising stride.

A gentle breath of a
breeze blew her hair across her face. She closed her eyes briefly,
then pushed the hair away, hoisted her skirt up to her knees, and
hurried to catch up with him. "I can make it the rest of the way on
my own,” she said. “You don’t have to escort me."

"Yeah, I do. I need to
make sure you go straight home to Maxwell's, and I suggest you stay
there until this gossip cools down."

The thought had crossed
her mind that it would be far less dangerous to hide away in
Angus's pretty blue parlor. But how would she find a way home from
there?

"Look," she said, "I
didn't start any of this. I did nothing wrong, so you have no
authority to put me under house arrest, if that’s your intention.
Besides, I have some business to take care of, and it’s
important."

Wade stopped in his
tracks.

Jessica continued
walking until she realized he wasn't beside her anymore. "What’s
wrong?”

He approached and
stared at her with narrowed eyes, then removed his hat and wiped
his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "I'd like to know more
about this alias of yours –
Junebug Jess
. How long have
you had it?"

She practically
laughed. "Are you kidding me? It’s not an alias. The newspaper made
that up."

Squinting into the
sunshine, he placed his hat back on his head. "How about answering
this, then? Where'd you come from? Home must be somewhere."

Jessica suddenly felt
like the shopkeeper had tied the laces on her new shoes too tight.
What should she tell Truman? She couldn't say she'd just arrived
from the future. She'd end up in an asylum.

"I’m from Topeka," she
casually replied and started walking again.

He walked beside her,
watching her face the whole time, but she resisted the urge to look
at him.

"So what are you doing
in Dodge?" he asked.

"Just passing
through."

“Where to next?”

She paused. “Not
sure.”

"You don't know where
you're heading?"

The sun beat down on
the top of her head, and she could feel her nose beginning to burn.
The rest of her face, she guessed, was growing redder by the
second. How did these people live without sunscreen?

Wade looped his thumbs
through his belt. "It's a bit odd for a young woman to be traveling
alone, ain’t it?"

She removed a
handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her forehead.

"You don't have a
horse, and you don't have any money,” he pressed. “How did you
expect to pass through here—by flapping your arms real fast?"

"No, I—"

"You needed the money
so you killed Lou. You were pretty darn sharp with your aim. Who
else have you killed?"

"I told you!
Nobody!"

How was she supposed to
answer a question like that? Sheriff Wade was wasting his time, and
more importantly he was wasting hers. She needed to get the heck
out of this stupid century, and if he would just leave her alone—go
sign up for a high noon showdown or catch a crazy cattle rustler or
something—she might be able to make some sense out of this
situation.

Head spinning, she
cleared her throat and loosened her collar.

"Relax, Miss Delaney,”
he said. “You're not in any real trouble. At least not today.”

Jessica tensed
immediately as he moved closer and removed a blade of grass that
had blown into her hair. She stood very still until he flicked the
blade onto a passing breeze.

Dust swirled up around
them. Jessica moistened her lips, realizing she hadn't blinked or
breathed while he had his hands in her hair. Finally, she regained
her composure and transferred her parcel from one hand to the
other.

"What are you keeping
in there?" he asked.

"My old shoes. I bought
new ones."

"Ah, that's right. You
were wearing some strange footwear last night. Your feet looked
like weapons.” After a pause, he added, "You all right, Miss
Delaney? You look flushed."

"I'll be fine."

But she didn't feel
fine. She felt sick to her stomach. These dizzy spells were
beginning to worry her.

She reached for her
handkerchief again, to dab at the perspiration on her forehead.

"Let’s sit down for a
minute," he said. "This heat can sneak up on a person."

Wade led her to the
shady side of a storage shed, removed his coat, and spread it on
the grass. He gestured for her to sit down.

She knew if she didn't,
she might faint into his arms, which was most definitely out of the
question.

Hoping she wouldn't
have to stick her head between her knees, she dropped her parcel
onto the grass and settled down in the shade.

She rested her back
against the wall of the shed and shut her eyes, praying for the
dizziness to pass quickly.

“Ah,” she sighed.

"Feel better?” He
rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at her. “Need some
water or something? There’s a pump across the street.”

“No sir, not necessary.
I’ll be fine in a minute.”

A horse and wagon
rumbled by in the street. “Howdy, Sheriff!” the driver shouted.

Wade touched the brim
of his hat, then sat down beside Jessica and leaned against the
shed, his knees bent. “Wonder what the good folks of Dodge will say
when they hear about their trusted sheriff lazing about in the
shadows with the infamous Junebug Jess?"

She opened one eye to
peer at him briefly. "You know as well as I do that I'm not what
the paper said I am."

"I can't say I do know
such a thing. I reckon you're keeping something from me."

Jessica shut her eyes
again and wondered if he'd always possessed such a keen instinct or
if she was just a terrible liar.

"I told you before.
That story was completely false." She moistened her lips and
squinted across the yard at two clucking chickens pecking at the
dirt.