Whirlwind Groom (16 page)

He waited until she was inside the hotel before he turned the buggy around and headed for the livery. The low din of noise and off-key piano music from the saloon rumbled around him. Two cowboys staggered across the street up ahead and Davis Lee kept an eye on them until they slumped down in front of Ef's blacksmithy and nodded off.

Slowly he was gaining Josie's trust. She had told him her parents had died, as had her fiancé. Had those deaths somehow compelled her to come here, to Whirlwind? One way or another he would figure out why she had come.

D
avis Lee had lain awake a long time last night, thinking about Josie's hand on his face, her fingers on his lips, the fiercely earnest look in her green eyes. He sure did like her even though he knew she wasn't shooting straight with him.

That fact should've blistered him up more than it did. He should be thinking about how to get her secrets out of her, not how to get her out of her clothes, which was where his mind had stayed since he'd kissed her. He'd gotten about as far with her as he had with finding out who'd taken a shot at his prisoner.

But on this Saturday morning, he couldn't work on either one. Luther and Odell demanded his full attention. About an hour before lunch, Davis Lee stood in Pete Carter's saloon, eyeing the two over-sixty gentlemen whose antics had brought him here at least once a week every week for the past two years.

Luther Grimes and Odell Pickett were mostly harmless until they got too much liquor in them. Then some old feud—to this day no one in town knew about what—caught up to them and they threatened to duel.

Late-morning sunshine bounced through one of Pete's large windows, shooting sharp points of light from the glass
scattered across the scratched wooden floor. Besides Pete and his boy, Creed, Davis Lee, Luther and Odell were the only ones in the saloon. It being the weekend, those two weren't the lone drunks in town, but they were the only ones causing problems at the moment. The cowboys who'd come to town last night to spend their pay on whiskey were now sleeping it off either upstairs or outside.

The culprits leaned back against the bar and Davis Lee eyed both of them, knowing the counter at their backs was the only thing keeping them propped up.

“So, now y'all have gone and busted Pete's mirror.”

“It weren't not me,” Luther slurred.

“It was'n, too,” Odell yelled.

Davis Lee pinched the bridge of his nose. “I've had more than one complaint about y'all today.”

Odell Pickett was slight with a knobby frame and neatly trimmed hair. He set great store by his thinning, gray-streaked hair and had Tony Santos trim it every week. Usually right before he and Luther got busy in Pete's saloon.

Luther Grimes was no taller than Odell, both hitting Davis Lee right about the chin, but he was built like a bull, and nearly as strong as one. The man didn't have an ounce of fat on him, just thick hard muscle and an even worse aim than Josie. Davis Lee smiled at that.

So far he had been saved from carting one or both of them to the undertaker in Abilene because they could barely hit a target when they were sober much less drunk. And half the time their guns weren't even loaded.

After the second time he'd been called to the saloon because the old men were shooting up the place, he had made some rules. If they wanted to drink, they had to turn their bullets over to Pete and they couldn't get the ammunition back until they were sober. Over the past two years, a bullet or two had been overlooked, which was why Pete's floor,
ceiling and walls had gouge marks from where stray lead had dug into them.

Until today that had been the only damage. One of the old coots had shot the mirror behind the bar, which had Pete sending Creed for Davis Lee.

“Y'all are gonna have to pay for the mirror.”

“I'm not payin' 'cuz I didn' hit it.” Odell glared at him.

“Well,
I'm
not payin' for it, either.” Luther poked Odell in the shoulder.

The other man rounded with a raised fist, lost his balance and grabbed the edge of the bar.

“You're both paying.”

They mumbled incoherently.

Davis Lee braced his hands on his hips. “This has been going on for two years and I want it stopped.”

“You gonna make us, Sheriff?” Odell blustered. The old guy swaggered toward Davis Lee then wilted to the floor.

Davis Lee shook his head, glancing at Pete, who looked as if he couldn't decide whether to laugh or spit nails. Luther pushed away from the bar and lurched toward Odell, waving his gun around like a dadgum flag.

Davis Lee stepped over the man on the floor and plucked the weapon out of Luther's hand. “I'm gonna count to three then y'all better scoot.”

Luther wobbled over to a table, sank down into a nearby chair and flopped over to rest his head on his folded arms. “I'll just sleep it off in here.”

Davis Lee looked at Pete who nodded. “Sure, as long as he sleeps.”

“You heard him, Luther.”

The old man wheezed out a breath in answer. Davis Lee turned and held out a hand to help Odell to his feet. “Let's go.”

“I'm gonna stay here, too.”

“No. Getting y'all separated is the whole idea of me coming down here.”

“Well, that ain't your call, Sheriff.”

Davis Lee pushed back his hat and said drolly, “Seeing as how I'm sober and standing,
and
have bullets in my gun, I'd say it is. Get up.”

“Ain't gonna.”

“All right then.” Davis Lee wasn't angry but he was fed up. He stepped over Odell, grabbed the back of his shirt just below the neck and started dragging him toward the swinging doors.

Odell put up a fuss, yelling and hollering like his head was being pulled off. He started kicking his feet.

Davis Lee held on tight, pushed his way outside and hauled the man to his feet. As the old cuss teetered and wobbled, Davis Lee was aware that a couple of people stood behind him under the saloon's awning. He took a hold of Odell's arm and half pulled, half pushed him into the street and straight for the horse trough that sat between here and the livery.

Odell held up a hand to block the bright sun and stumbled. The old man squinted against the light. “Where are we goin'?”

“To sober you up.”

“Noooooo!” He squealed like a schoolgirl who'd had her pigtails yanked. “Sheriff, don't be dunkin' me in that horse trough again. I don't like it!”

“You should've heeded my last warning.”

“There's horse spit and all kinds of things in there.”

“I told you to quit your warring with Luther, but you didn't. And then you resisted authority in the saloon.” Davis Lee added that last for good measure, hoping it would shock some soberness into Odell's liquor-soaked brain.

The old man planted his feet, trying to dig in his heels with his slight weight. He twisted and strained back toward
the saloon. Since he didn't weigh more than a drowned rat, Davis Lee easily reeled him around and pushed him face down into the trough. Water splashed all over Davis Lee's black wool trousers and the tops of his boots.

Odell came up sputtering and coughing. Davis Lee forced the old man's head back under the water for a second. After another dunk, he surfaced, shaking his head hard and spraying Davis Lee's pants and shirt. “All right, Sheriff.” He panted the words. “I give.”

Davis Lee helped him up and nudged him toward the livery. “Go home. Don't come back over here today. Next time I break up one of these fights, I'm takin' both you and Luther to jail.”

“All right.” The man staggered off, his shirt and dark trousers sticking to his spindly frame. He was so skinny his shadow had holes in it.

Davis Lee looked down at his shirtsleeves, wet past his wrists. The thighs and knees of his trousers were damp. He shook his head in disgust, rolling back his sleeves as he turned around. He caught sight of Josie standing under the awning, one gloved hand wrapped around a support post, her green eyes dancing.

“Hey,” he said in surprise. Beneath a brown velvet bowler hat, her hair was swept up into some kind of twist that bared her nape and her dainty ears. “Not thinking about going in there to drink, are you?”

“Lands, no.” She glanced in Odell's direction. “I certainly don't want you dunking
me
in the horse trough.”

His gaze slid over the dark-honey-colored bodice that gloved her breasts and waist. The brown velvet buttons down the front matched the same color in the brown, cream and black striped skirt. “I wouldn't mess up that pretty dress.”

She smoothed her skirts and gave him a little smile that darkened her eyes.

A little smile that had him thinking about what else she might do with that mouth. “I thought I wouldn't see you until tonight.”

“So we're still having a lesson?”

“I'm planning on it.”

“Good.”

She looked so pleased that Davis Lee figured he better gather up what common sense he still had and use it. “So, if you're not here to drink, why are you here?”

“I'm looking at the stagecoach schedule.”

“Why? Are you leaving town?”

“Yes.” She turned away from him to study the paper stuck to the other side of the post. “It's for my business.”

She was leaving? Davis Lee's stomach dropped to his knees. He had been kidding. He hadn't considered for a moment that she might leave. Forcing the words past his suddenly dry throat, he said, “I guess you'd get more customers in a bigger town.”

She glanced over with a smile. “I'm only leaving for a day. I need to go to Abilene for some fabric.”

Only a day. His chest felt strangely light. “The stage ran there yesterday. It won't go again until Wednesday.”

“That's four days,” she groaned.

“You in a hurry?” He grinned as he edged closer, admiring the smoothness of her peach-tinted skin. She smelled fresh and sweet, especially after Odell.

“I need some lace for Catherine's wedding gown. It has to be sewn on before I can finish her dress. She's expecting it next weekend, and if I have to wait until Wednesday to go to Abilene, the dress won't be ready. Once I finish that, I can start on Mrs. Eishen's order.”

“Lettie's been to see you?”

“Yes. We talked last night about me making her a new coat and she came this morning so I could take her mea
surements.” Josie tapped her foot then turned to him with a hopeful look on her face. “Exactly where is Abilene?”

“Due east.”

She frowned, her gaze moving from the church at the far end of town then back past the saloon where they stood. A sheepish smile crept across her face. “Which direction is that?”

He grinned and pointed over her shoulder. “That way. We're on the west end of town now.”

She thought for a minute. “Can you recommend someone I could hire to take me there? I don't fancy going alone.”

“You shouldn't.” The smartest thing he could do would be to give her the names of a couple of men he trusted, but evidently he was fresh out of smart because he said, “I'll take you.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. I couldn't ask you to do that.”

“You didn't.” Where had that come from? He hadn't thought about offering, hadn't even thought about
thinking
about it.

“Surely I'll be able to manage Abilene if I can just get there. I'd hate for you to wait on me while I shop.”

“I have some business with the marshal over there.” Which could be taken care of by wire, but it wouldn't hurt Davis Lee to talk to John J. Clinton in person. “Besides, Abilene can be rowdy, even during the week. On the weekends, it's more rough than it is here.”

“Yes, I heard a lot of laughing and singing and hollering last night.”

“You'll hear it tonight, too. Saturday nights seem to be a favorite for causing trouble.”

“Was that gentleman—” she pointed to the horse trough “—one you consider rowdy?”

“No.” Davis Lee pushed his hat back. “Odell's obstinate and mostly harmless. But some of the cowpokes who pass
through here and Abilene are downright mean and looking for trouble.”

“Oh.” She stared thoughtfully at the stage schedule. “Can you have someone else watch the jail, your prisoner?”

“If Jake can't guard McDougal that day, I can ask Cody Tillman, one of Riley's ranch hands.”

He leaned a shoulder against the post, unable to keep his gaze from sliding over her. “Is there some reason you don't want me to take you?”

“No, of course not.” Her gaze flicked to his lips. “No.”

He wanted to kiss her. Something fierce. But he wouldn't. “Is Monday soon enough for you?”

She fiddled with the glove on her left hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Oh. Yes.” A flicker of uncertainty passed through her eyes. “Thank you, Davis Lee. I really appreciate it. What time should I be ready?”

“Well, if we leave before eight, we can get there in plenty of time for the noon meal. We can eat before or after you shop.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“How much are you plannin' on buyin'? Do I need to drive something bigger than the buggy?”

She thought for a minute. “Could you get a wagon?”

His eyes widened. “Are you kiddin'?”

“Yes.” She laughed, the sound wrapping around him like warm velvet.

“You better watch out or we'll take my horse,” he said gruffly, biting back a smile. “I'll make you ride behind me and all you'll have room for is what will fit in my saddlebags.”

She grinned. “I'll try to behave.”

Suited him fine if she didn't. “We're all set, then.”

“I'll see you tonight?” she asked as he backed toward the saloon doors.

His gaze slid down her body again. She looked like a caramel-candy confection and he wanted to lick her all over. “You gonna wear that for your lesson?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes as if that were the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

He couldn't seem to wipe the stupid grin off his face. “See you at six-thirty sharp.”

She nodded and turned in a swirl of skirts. He watched her as she walked past the office of the
Prairie Caller
newspaper then disappeared inside Haskell's General Store. He wondered at the kink in his gut when he'd thought she was leaving town. Maybe she
should
leave. That would at least put his mind at ease about her having a connection to McDougal. But Davis Lee didn't want her to leave.