Much Ado About Marshals (Hearts of Owyhee) (2011) (5 page)

The miners! Pork
er and Gib Rankin, the brothers who sluiced his ranch’s creek into a muddy dribble, had come to Oreana.

Then an idea occurred to him. As marshal, he could make their lives hell, the same amount of hell they’d caused him. Being marshal of Oreana could have its advantages.

Chapter 3

Tired of Mrs. Courtney’s incessant complaining, Daisy turned her back to the widow, unwrapped another bottle of patent medicine and plopped it on the shelf beside the others. “He’s getting better every day,” she protested. Too bad the old bat couldn’t keep her trap shut, but Daisy doubted that would ever happen until the self-righteous widow drew her last breath.

“We should just swear Deputy Kunkle in as marshal and be done with it. At least
he’s
a fully functional man.” Mrs. Courtney picked up her dry goods and left the store, much to Daisy’s relief.

Sarah, standing safely back from the widow’s path, stepped up to the counter. “We have to do something before she causes even more trouble.”

“But he’s only been here a week.” Daisy shoved another bottle on the shelf, and opened a new box of medicines. “You can’t expect him to get well in such a short time.”

“Maybe so, but the boarders were talking about it last night at supper. I’d say if you want the new marshal to keep his job, you’d better find a way to get him on his feet. And fast.”

Unfortunately, Daisy knew Sarah was right. She tried to concentrate on her task, but all she could think about was how she could get the marshal healthy—her entire future depended on it! When she unwrapped another bottle from the new box, the label caught her notice:

LOST MANHOOD RESTORED

The DR. LIEBIG Private Dispensary

400 Geary St.,
San Francisco
,
Cal
.

“Sarah, I think we have our answer! Listen to this. “Nervous Debility, Impotency, Seminal Losses, Physical Weakness, Failing Memory, Weak Eyes, Stunted Development, Impediments to Marriage, etc. from excesses or youthful follies, or any cause, speedily, safely and privately cured.”

“He doesn’t look too nervous.”

“No, but maybe he doesn’t show it.” Daisy concentrated on the next word, trying to decipher its meaning. “Do you suppose
Impotency
means general weakness? After all if a medicine is potent, that means it’s strong. So impotency would mean that a man has lost his strength.”

Sarah nodded. “Must be. And he can’t be all that strong with a hole in his leg.” She picked up another bottle, unwrapped it, and studied the label. “Why on earth do you need a cure for not wanting to be a preacher?”

“Huh?”

“Well,” Sarah explained, “it says
Seminal Losses
. I guess that must refer to men who have quit seminary school.”

Daisy shrugged. She didn’t know, either, so she studied the label again. “This medicine sounds like just the thing to speed his recovery, especially if it removes any
Impediments to Marriage
—although I don’t know how on earth it could do that. Mama says love potions are hoaxes.”

“But it couldn’t hurt.”

“It might help.” Daisy stuffed a bottle in her apron pocket.

“How are you planning to pay for it? Aren’t you going to tell your Dad?”

Daisy shook her head. “He won’t mind. I’ll just record it in the account book.” Where, she didn’t know—maybe on Mrs. Courtney’s account, but she wasn’t about to let her father in on her plans to marry the marshal until she had him bagged good and proper.

Cole threw off the blanket. “I don’t give a good goddamn what Doc says, I’m not staying in bed one more minute.” At least he’d been moved to the marshal’s office where he didn’t have to put up with the doctor mooning over Miss Daisy.

Bosco grabbed Cole’s britches. “I’m gonna throw your clothes right out into the daggone street if you take ‘nother step from that there bed. You got at least nine or ten days before you’re s’posed to be standing up.”

“Hell, Jesus only took three days to rise from the dead.” Cole motioned for Bosco to toss the pants to him. “And if you throw my clothes in the street, why, I expect I’ll have to go get them, butt naked. And don’t think I won’t—maybe in front of your Widow Courtney. The whole damned town is buzzing over her romancing you. Why, from what I hear, wedding bells are bound to ring pretty soon.”

Grimacing, Bosco slowly handed the clothes to Cole. “Don’t go funning me about her. She ain’t so bad, and she makes one helluva raisin pie. I bet your Daisy can’t hold a candle to her cooking.”

“My Daisy?” Cole snorted. Much as he wanted to, he knew he’d never get his hands around that sweet waist of hers, let alone steal a kiss. Even if he had the chance, he wouldn’t do it. Women like her were the most dangerous kind. The marrying kind. “You know as well as I do that I have more important things on my mind than women. Like those Rankin brothers. Have you been trailing them like I told you to?”

“Yup.” Bosco stood tall and puffed his chest some. “They sure do like their liquor, ‘specially Porker. Gib, you can find him at the faro table just about anytime.” He put his hat on and sat astraddle a chair by Cole’s bed, and rested his arms on the back. “Yup, they spend most of their time at the Branded Horse saloon. I can find ‘em anytime you want ‘em.”

“Have you figured out what the hell they’re doing in Oreana?”

“Nope. They got here before we did.” He took off his hat and scratched his head. “I did see that they glommed on to a new feller in town. Big ol’ strapping feller, too—purt neart big as you. Seen him somewheres before—maybe at Big Boned Bess’s down in Winnemucca.”

Cole slowly stood and mulled over what Bosco had told him while he dressed. His leg still hurt like hell, but he managed to get his pants up and fastened. None too soon, either, because he saw Daisy scurrying toward the marshal’s office carrying something. He hoped she’d brought him dinner. He hadn’t had breakfast, and a man needed food to regain his strength.

“I hear tell that feller’s looking for Miss Daisy Gardner. Said she’s the one what hired him.”

“Hired him?” The muscles in Cole’s neck tensed. The last thing he needed was someone who could identify him as an imposter.

Bosco shrugged. “Dunno. That’s just what he said. I told him he sure wouldn’t find no respectable lady like her at the dang faro table.”

“You talked to him?”

“Yup, but don’t worry. They ain’t see’d me before, so I told him that I was deputy ‘till the new marshal come to town.”

Cole nodded, wondering how things could get much worse. He drew back the curtain to see Daisy crossing the street. “Miss Daisy’s coming—I’m not about to explain myself to her, too.” He hurried back to the bed, not wanting another confrontation about the state of his health, and threw the covers over himself. “Besides, I kind of like her bringing my dinner.”

Chuckling, Bosco stood. “I guess I’ll be on my way, then. I ain’t about to get twixt you two.” He opened the door for her, tipping his hat as she entered, and left.

Her smile warmed Cole’s heart.

“Good afternoon, marshal.”

He nodded. “Miss.”

She placed the box on the tray, took off the towel, and removed the lid. “I brought you some dinner.”

“Thanks.” He tried not to look at her, but couldn’t stop himself. And, he justified, there was no reason to be rude. “Smells good.”

“Do you need help sitting up?” She fidgeted with the towel, then stuck her hand in her apron pocket.

“Nope, I can do it.”

“Maybe I should help.”

And maybe he’d like to feel her soft hands on his shoulders. “All right.”

She bent over him, slipped one hand behind his neck and the other behind his back. He cursed himself for what he’d been thinking, because even her touch aroused him, and she’d surely notice. He threw the covers to one side and sat up by himself.

“You have your clothes on!”

“Would you rather I not?”

She jumped back and tucked a stray auburn lock behind her ear. “N
…
no.”

He tried to look contrite, but he wanted to think he was the only man who flustered her that way.

She pushed the table toward him. “Eat your dinner.”

Hungry in more ways than one, he obliged.

Miss Daisy gazed nervously at him, still fidgeting—first with her hair, then with her apron pocket.

“Is there something wrong?” Cole asked.

“Just finish eating. I have something to discuss.”

His appetite faded in a hurry, but determined not to show it, he took another bite of roast beef. Had she discovered his true identity? “Discuss away.”

“Uh…
” She fumbled with something in her apron pocket again. “There have been rumblings amongst the townspeople that we shouldn’t be paying full wages to you while you’re laid up.”

Relieved, he let out a deep breath. “And?”

“And I have something that will solve all our problems.”

“Our problems?”

“Well, I
am
the one who hired you, you know. My pride’s as much at stake as your job.”

“I see.” But he didn’t. “So what do you want to do?” He took a sip of coffee, remembering not to slurp in front of her.

She pulled a brown bottle out of her pocket. “I want you to take this. It’s Dr. Liebig’s Lost Manhood Restorer.”

He snorted coffee out his nose.

She started talking faster. “It cures a lot of things.” Holding up the bottle, she began reading, “Nervous debility, impotency, seminal losses—”

Incensed that she thought his manhood was impaired, he jumped up, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in his thigh. “I do
not
need that.”

“Oh, but you do. And you shouldn’t be standing. Doc said—”

“I don’t give a damn what Doc said, my manhood’s working just fine. Do you want a demonstration?” He embraced her and gazed into her innocent eyes. “And yes, I am standing. All of me. I’m a might stiff, too, in a couple of places.”

Miss Daisy Gardner infuriated him more than any female he’d ever met in all his born days. She didn’t pull back. In fact, she leaned into him. Her breasts pressing against his chest pushed him beyond what any man could possibly bear.

He wasn’t enough of a gentleman to refuse what she offered, he lowered his lips to hers.

She gave him a prim little kiss like she would her younger brother, and distanced herself, wide-eyed. He drew her to him again. “Relax, and open your mouth a little bit,” he whispered against her lips.

He kissed her again. Her tiny shiver forced his heartbeat to race and his muscles to tense. She tasted delicious—more so than he’d imagined. He ran his tongue over her lips, then tasted the inside of her mouth. Her body sagged against his, and he knew he could have her. The very thought primed him to near pain, but he didn’t want to stop kissing her. Not yet. Not for a long time.

Her tongue probed against his, and he wanted more. He held the small of her back with one hand and slid the other up her side, her breast, then touched the skin on her neck. Her breath caught, so he kissed her again. Deeper.

Caught in a whirlwind of wanting, he forced himself to yield to the pressure of her hands pushing him away.

“I—I have to go.” She touched her mouth as she backed away, but she didn’t wipe off his kiss. She whirled and ran out the door.

Cole picked up the bottle of manhood restorer. Nope, he really didn’t think he needed it. Not with the ache she’d left him with. He tossed the ugly brown bottle into the dinner box.

Damn! He had to get away from Oreana. Away from her. But first, he needed to stick around long enough so he could find out what the miners were up to.

Daisy dashed out of the marshal’s office and raced for the stable. Her heart pounded, and the ache in her belly intensified with every beat. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t even see straight. But she wanted more. More kisses. More touching.

She cursed her naïve reaction to his kiss. Why, she’d never land a husband by being such a ninny. Honey Beaulieu certainly wouldn’t have chickened out. She’d have
…

Daisy crashed square into Mrs. Courtney.

“Watch where you’re going, young lady!” Mrs. Courtney shot her a stern look.

Could the old bat see the kiss lingering on Daisy’s lips? She turned her face away and muttered, “Sorry, ma’am.”

She ducked around the corner and hastened her already brisk pace, wondering just what the heck she should have done when the marshal had kissed her. Or for that matter, what was there to do? He certainly seemed to know. A whole new surge of tingles tied her abdomen in knots. Oh, he knew.

Stumbling on a raised plank in the boardwalk, she caught herself before she fell. She concentrated on the only thing she could—escaping to the cave where she could read. Honey Beaulieu would never have gotten herself in such a dither
.

As she fought back the tears that threatened, Daisy sped past the confectionery and on toward the livery. Her corset was entirely too tight! She only hoped she could get to the livery, and to Gal’s stall, before anyone saw her.