The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 (6 page)

She studied him as she bit into her own apple. Even though she was irritated with him, she was also very much aware of him as a man. What was it about him that drew her so? He was attractive to be sure, but there were many attractive men in the world. Men who didn’t scramble her thinking or incite this disturbing push and pull of emotion. Yet it was Jedidiah who had lingered in her thoughts long after he had left Burr. And she was beginning to suspect he had lingered in her heart as well, despite her best efforts to dislodge him.

He turned his head to look at her with those cool dark eyes that saw so much more than she intended, and her heart gave one, slow roll of yearning in her chest.

Panic surged through her. She couldn’t start feeling this way again. Not here. Not now. She turned her gaze away and studied the distant mountains. She didn’t look back.

When they were done eating, Jedidiah wordlessly cleaned up the camp so there was no evidence that anyone had ever been there. He once more helped Susannah to mount, and she felt that fluttering of her pulse again at his casual strength. This time she acknowledged it, and even allowed herself to enjoy the thrill, by reminding herself that after tomorrow, she would have left him far behind.

They rode several more hours in silence. As the sun sank lower toward the horizon, Susannah drooped in her saddle. At this rate, she’d be in no condition to make her escape, only to sleep.

Just when she was about to ask Jedidiah to stop, he pulled up, reaching out a hand to halt her horse as well. Just over the rise ahead of them, she spotted a wispy curl of smoke.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” he said in a low tone. “Be ready.”

“For what?”

He sent her a cold-eyed glance that sent a trickle of fear through her. “If it’s Caldwell, be ready to run for your life.”

“What would he be doing out here?” she asked, hating the apprehension that gripped her.

“Looking for you.” He flipped her horse’s reins back over the paint’s head, giving her control of her mount. Then he slid his rifle out of the saddle holster and held it barrel down along the length of his leg. “Stay behind me. If there’s shooting, you run.”

“I thought you were taking me to Denver,” she joked half-heartedly.

“I am. But I’d like you to be alive when I do.” He pulled his hat low on his head and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Remember, stay behind me.”

“No problem there, Marshal.” She clenched her fingers around the reins. As tempted as she was to bolt, she knew that if it
was
Caldwell up ahead, she was much safer with Jedidiah than on her own.

He gave her a small smile, then set his horse to a slow amble over the rise. Susannah followed.

As they came up over the hill, the source of the smoke became visible. A covered wagon sat at the side of the road, a couple of rabbits roasting on a spit over a fire. No one was in evidence.

Susannah glanced at Jedidiah. His entire posture was tense with readiness, and she knew that he would give his life to defend hers. The knowledge added to the confusing mass of feelings that she had for Jedidiah Brown.

How could a man be so hateful and yet so noble? How could he be so strong but so gentle, too? How could he be so uncaring of her innocence, yet be willing to protect her life, even if it meant sacrificing his? Jedidiah was like a chameleon who changed to adapt to any situation in which he found himself. No doubt that talent had kept him alive all these years, but keeping up with his changeable moods was driving her to distraction.

A high-pitched giggle echoed around them, and Jedidiah’s head snapped toward the camp. A little girl ran from behind the wagon. A man chased after her, catching her up in his arms, making growling noises as he buried his face in her belly to her shrieks of laughter.

“The Papa-monster’s got you, Lizzie!” He tickled her and made exaggerated chomping noises. “The Papa-monster loves little girls for supper!”

Susannah watched Jedidiah’s posture relax as the little girl continued to giggle hysterically. A woman climbed out of the covered wagon, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Samuel, don’t you get her all churned up before supper,” the woman said. “Otherwise she won’t go to sleep when she’s supposed to!”

“Aw, Maggie...” the man began. Then he caught sight of Jedidiah. He put the little girl on the ground and pushed her behind him. “Evening, folks,” he said to them, his expression wary.

“Evening,” Jedidiah replied. “Sorry to intrude. We saw your fire. I’m U.S. Marshal Jedidiah Brown.” He pulled open his duster so the man could see the star pinned to his chest.

“Sam Ferguson,” the man said, visibly relaxing. “Can we help you with something, Marshal Brown?”

“We were just looking for a place to stop for the night."

“You’re welcome to bed down here if you want,” Ferguson said. “Would you care for some supper?”

“That’s mighty kind of you.” Jedidiah doffed his hat and smiled at the man’s wife with all the charm of his Southern upbringing. “That is, if it’s not an imposition on your lovely wife.”

The woman blushed. “Not at all, Marshal. Do set with us a spell.”

“Thank you kindly, ma’am.” Jedidiah dismounted and grabbed the bridle of Susannah’s horse, leading them both forward.

“That your missus?” Ferguson asked, staring at Susannah. The man’s eyes widened with admiration, and his mouth fell open. Mrs. Ferguson nervously smoothed her skirts and patted her hair. Little Lizzie came out from behind her father and ran up to Susannah’s horse.

“Are you an angel?” she asked with wonder.

Susannah smiled down at the child. “No, I’m Susannah.”

Jedidiah glanced at the Fergusons with ill-concealed irritation. They’d never be able to keep Caldwell off their trail if every mother’s son in the state reacted like these people. The woman was too darned memorable! He had to do something.

“She’s not my wife and she’s certainly no angel. She’s my prisoner,” he announced.

Susannah flushed with mortification as he came over and made a show of helping her down off the horse. The clink of the handcuffs seemed to shake the family from their fog of admiration.

“Hard to believe someone that pretty is a criminal, Marshal,” Ferguson said.

“Believe me, looks can be deceiving,” Jedidiah said. “What we have here is the Black Widow of Barton Falls. She did away with three husbands, so if I were you, I’d keep the eating knives away from her.”

Chapter Five

For the first time in her life, Susannah Calhoun was being ignored.

Jedidiah sat with the Fergusons, eating roast rabbit and conversing amiably, while she, Susannah, sat on the other side of the fire eating supper with her fingers. Thanks to Jedidiah’s ridiculous tall tale, they hadn’t even allowed her a spoon to eat with!

She grew even more infuriated at the small humiliation. The Black Widow of Barton Falls? What kind of nonsense was that? His labeling her a three-time husband killer made it perfectly clear what Jedidiah really thought of her. He thought she was the type of woman who led men on and then broke their hearts.

A bite of rabbit stuck in her throat as emotion welled up. She had no idea why she should even care what he thought of her. As much as he fascinated her, he also irritated her beyond belief. All her life, she had been able to get men to do exactly what she wanted. But not Jedidiah Brown. He seemed determined to do the opposite of what she wanted him to do.

Clearly, she was wasting her time staying with him for his dubious protection. They were far enough away from Silver Flats that she should be able to make it on her own. She knew Abigail Hawkins had headed for Placerville, which wasn’t far from where they were now. She would find a way to sneak off tonight.

As Susannah swallowed the last bite of supper, Mrs. Ferguson produced dessert—a batch of cookies they had traded for in the last town. Though she wasn’t offered any, Susannah couldn’t help but smile as she watched Jedidiah eagerly reach for one. She’d never known a man yet who hadn’t fallen into a sound sleep after eating a hearty meal. Once the marshal had bedded down for the night, she would make her escape.

Jedidiah knew that if looks could kill, he would have been dead already.

Susannah was sitting isolated on the other side of the fire and had been sending him dagger-like glances throughout the entire meal. No doubt she wasn’t used to being ignored, but the sooner she learned to keep a low profile, the better off they’d be. Hopefully, the story he’d told Ferguson would help to keep Caldwell off their trail.

But he doubted it.

He’d told the story partly to protect them from Caldwell, but also to rile Susannah. He loved the way her eyes glittered and her cheeks flushed when she was annoyed at him. As much as he knew he had no business getting involved with the woman, he just couldn’t seem to help himself.

She sent him another of those looks, then she smiled as he reached for another molasses cookie. He didn’t trust that smile. What deviltry was the woman planning now?

He finished the cookie in short order, then stood and stretched.

“Ma’am, that was a delicious supper,” he said to Mrs. Ferguson, who beamed at him. “But we need to be going now.”

Sam Ferguson sent Susannah a wary look. “You keep that dangerous criminal under close watch, Marshal.”

Susannah glared at the man, who flinched. Jedidiah reached over and took Susannah’s arm, tugging her to her feet.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” he said. “She only kills her own husbands. Your family is safe.”

Susannah’s mouth fell open, and Jedidiah squeezed her arm in warning. The last thing he needed was Susannah ruining the false trail he had left for Caldwell.

“Come on,” he said, tugging her towards the mounts. “I’m tired.”

Susannah let him lead her along, then paused before Mrs. Ferguson. “Thank you for supper,” she said.

The woman gave a curt nod in response. The evident disapproval brought a moment’s look of distress to Susannah’s face. Then, holding her head high, she followed Jedidiah from the camp.

They reached the horses, and Jedidiah stopped her as she raised her foot to the stirrup. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, Marshal,” she replied frostily. “Now will you help me mount or will you leave me to further humiliation?”

He stared down at her, so proud even in adversity, and something shifted inside him. Gently, he reached out and brushed a loosened curl from her brow. She stood still beneath his touch, staring stonily at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He had meant only to protect her with his ridiculous tale, not to hurt her.

She nodded stiffly. Jedidiah started to say more, but then thought better of it. Without another word, he bent and cupped his hands, boosting her into the saddle. She took up the reins, staring ahead like a queen awaiting her entourage. He mounted and brought his horse alongside hers.

She slowly extended to reins to him.

“You know how to ride,” he said shortly, then urged the Palomino to a trot. Susannah sat there for a long moment before following.

They made camp up in the hills. Jedidiah helped her down off the paint, then built a small fire as Susannah sat on a nearby boulder.

The sun had set, and the first tiny stars already twinkled in the black velvet sky. Susannah watched Jedidiah as he removed the tack from each animal, his movements sure and smooth, his voice low as he murmured to them.

The fire flickered over his face as he rubbed down each horse. Despite herself, Susannah started to relax as she watched him. Yes, she was annoyed at the man for humiliating her, but there was something soothing about his slow, steady movements as he performed so mundane a task. Fatigue weighed on her. She was simply so tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. All she wanted now was rest—and her good name back.

Needless to say, Jedidiah Brown was not proving helpful in that area.

She frowned down at the handcuffs on her wrists. To make up a story like he had told the Fergusons... It still stung that he had such a low opinion of her. Now she wasn’t only considered a killer, but a man-hater as well!

She turned her gaze once more on Jedidiah. The man confused her.

She tried to hate him. She had every reason to hate him, first for leaving so abruptly last spring, then for his lack of compassion for her now.

She wished he weren’t so intelligent, neatly anticipating and intercepting every attempt to escape him, yet she grudgingly respected his quick wits. She wished he weren’t so strong, since he could easily overpower her physically. But she had to admit that his strength also made her feel protected. She really shouldn’t feel so attracted to him—but she did.

He moved around the camp, setting out the bedrolls with an efficiency that bespoke years of experience. She watched as he smoothed the blankets with strong hands—hands that could manage either a gun or a woman with equal expertise. She had seen him fire a gun, and she had experienced his embrace. Either way, Jedidiah Brown was lethal.

He sat down on the bedroll and took off his hat, running a hand through his long hair. The flames played over the wheat-colored strands and shadowed the sharp planes of his face as he glanced up at the night sky. In the flickering light, she could see the lines around his eyes and mouth. How much of it was from years of riding the trail beneath the merciless sun, and how much from hard living? He turned to look at her suddenly, his sherry-colored eyes seeming dark and mysterious as he met her gaze across the fire.