Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) by Julianne MacLean Page A
Authors: Julianne MacLean
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brother-in-law. Jo saw the subtle annoyance and knew she had to interrupt. “Leo, you have to let it go. Those men left no trail.”
Zeb’s left eyebrow rose a fraction while he peered down at her curiously. “How do you know there were more than one?”
Jo tried not to let her anxiety show. “I don’t. I was only guessing.”
Zeb continued to stare at her, saying nothing, and Jo made the mistake of trying to fill the unbearable silence with an explanation. “There must have been more than one because of the tracks I saw.”
“But as I recall, you told the marshal you saw no tracks. You said they’d been covered by snowfall.” He frowned down at her and she knew, somehow, that he saw the truth in her eyes. “Perhaps you saw more than you lead people to believe.”
Jo tried to backtrack. “They were very clever to have gotten away without being seen.”
“How clever do you have to be to hang someone?” Leo asked.
The retort shocked everyone into silence.
Fletcher knelt down. “If it means that much to you, Leo, why don’t we go on over to the jailhouse now. If it’s okay with your ma, we could look up the report. I’ll tell you what was done about your father’s death.”
Zeb’s jaw clenched visibly, but he said nothing.
Jo couldn’t believe what she was hearing or seeing. There were no reassuring looks between Fletcher and Zeb, no winks or nudges. Only Zeb’s uneasiness and the marshal’s sincere interest in seeing the report.
Whatever suspicions Jo had held about Fletcher Collins dissolved right there. She was certain that, for all he knew, her husband had been murdered by horse thieves.
Not that any of that mattered. Zeb knew the truth now. That was obvious. And she feared she was in grave danger.
Fletcher rose to his feet. “Is that all right with you, Mrs. O’Malley?”
Jo knew the answer had to be yes, but she felt suddenly ill-equipped to see what was written about Edwyn’s death. She barely remembered the things she had said to the old marshal about it. She had been in such a state of shock, shaking and winded after the midnight ride through the snow all alone. So much of that night was a blur to her now.
“Mrs. O’Malley? Would it be all right?” Fletcher’s voice startled her, and she realized suddenly that she had been staring blankly at him. His eyes were intense with concern for her, and she found she wanted to leave with him now. It didn’t matter where they went, she just wanted him to take her away from the crowd.
She cleared her throat, feeling Zeb studying her. “That would be fine. I’ll come along, of course.”
“Zeb, I’ll see you later,” Fletcher said.
They descended the steps. Jo couldn’t resist the temptation to take one last look back at Zeb. He stood watching, his eyes shaded by the dark brim of his hat. He glared with brows drawn together, eyes so dark it sent chills skittering across her skin.
She was glad she and Leo were with the marshal.
* * *
As Fletcher followed Leo and Mrs. O’Malley around the back of the two-story city clerk’s office, he noticed that she checked over her shoulder every few seconds. She seemed nervous. He wondered if it was because her husband’s killers had never been caught. Maybe by checking into it, he would find something that would change that, and help her move on with her life.
He was not completely comfortable with how much he wanted her to move on—to be free from the tragedy that seemed to haunt her so intensely—because it wasn’t out of the goodness of his own heart.
What he really wanted was for her to look at him and see more than just his badge. He wanted her to see him as a man—a man who desired her—and he wanted her to remember what her own desire could feel like, if she surrendered to it.
They climbed the back stairs on the outside of the building to the second floor that served as city offices and police court. Fletcher removed his hat and fought to struggle free of the sticky web of
Zeb’s left eyebrow rose a fraction while he peered down at her curiously. “How do you know there were more than one?”
Jo tried not to let her anxiety show. “I don’t. I was only guessing.”
Zeb continued to stare at her, saying nothing, and Jo made the mistake of trying to fill the unbearable silence with an explanation. “There must have been more than one because of the tracks I saw.”
“But as I recall, you told the marshal you saw no tracks. You said they’d been covered by snowfall.” He frowned down at her and she knew, somehow, that he saw the truth in her eyes. “Perhaps you saw more than you lead people to believe.”
Jo tried to backtrack. “They were very clever to have gotten away without being seen.”
“How clever do you have to be to hang someone?” Leo asked.
The retort shocked everyone into silence.
Fletcher knelt down. “If it means that much to you, Leo, why don’t we go on over to the jailhouse now. If it’s okay with your ma, we could look up the report. I’ll tell you what was done about your father’s death.”
Zeb’s jaw clenched visibly, but he said nothing.
Jo couldn’t believe what she was hearing or seeing. There were no reassuring looks between Fletcher and Zeb, no winks or nudges. Only Zeb’s uneasiness and the marshal’s sincere interest in seeing the report.
Whatever suspicions Jo had held about Fletcher Collins dissolved right there. She was certain that, for all he knew, her husband had been murdered by horse thieves.
Not that any of that mattered. Zeb knew the truth now. That was obvious. And she feared she was in grave danger.
Fletcher rose to his feet. “Is that all right with you, Mrs. O’Malley?”
Jo knew the answer had to be yes, but she felt suddenly ill-equipped to see what was written about Edwyn’s death. She barely remembered the things she had said to the old marshal about it. She had been in such a state of shock, shaking and winded after the midnight ride through the snow all alone. So much of that night was a blur to her now.
“Mrs. O’Malley? Would it be all right?” Fletcher’s voice startled her, and she realized suddenly that she had been staring blankly at him. His eyes were intense with concern for her, and she found she wanted to leave with him now. It didn’t matter where they went, she just wanted him to take her away from the crowd.
She cleared her throat, feeling Zeb studying her. “That would be fine. I’ll come along, of course.”
“Zeb, I’ll see you later,” Fletcher said.
They descended the steps. Jo couldn’t resist the temptation to take one last look back at Zeb. He stood watching, his eyes shaded by the dark brim of his hat. He glared with brows drawn together, eyes so dark it sent chills skittering across her skin.
She was glad she and Leo were with the marshal.
* * *
As Fletcher followed Leo and Mrs. O’Malley around the back of the two-story city clerk’s office, he noticed that she checked over her shoulder every few seconds. She seemed nervous. He wondered if it was because her husband’s killers had never been caught. Maybe by checking into it, he would find something that would change that, and help her move on with her life.
He was not completely comfortable with how much he wanted her to move on—to be free from the tragedy that seemed to haunt her so intensely—because it wasn’t out of the goodness of his own heart.
What he really wanted was for her to look at him and see more than just his badge. He wanted her to see him as a man—a man who desired her—and he wanted her to remember what her own desire could feel like, if she surrendered to it.
They climbed the back stairs on the outside of the building to the second floor that served as city offices and police court. Fletcher removed his hat and fought to struggle free of the sticky web of
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