Beauty and the Bounty Hunter (10 page)

She dabbed at her brow, then returned the unpleasantly stained bandana to Langston before addressing the lawman. “I should lie down.” Cat glanced pointedly at the cell.

“Of course.” He reached for his keys.

“What the
fuck
!” Langston shouted.

Cat gasped and clapped a palm to her mouth. The marshal backhanded the offensive bastard across the face. “Watch your language.”

“But he—” The man began to hop back and forth as if he had the sudden and nearly uncontrollable urge to pee. “She— They—”

The ring of keys rattled as the marshal shoved one into the door.

“It’s
my
word against his,” Langston continued. “And I say he’s a thief. So his word shouldn’t mean nothin’.”

“No.” The marshal turned, leaving the keys hanging from the lock and the lock yet unturned. Alexi stared at them as if he wanted to turn them himself. He lifted his eyes to Cat’s, and she gave a tiny shake of her head.

“It’s his word
and
hers.
Two
folks who say he’s who he says he is. One who says he ain’t. I don’t have no choice.”

The marshal turned the key; the door swung open; Alexi stepped out. In keeping with the ruse, he rushed to her side, knelt and took her hand, kissing the knuckles before he set his palm on her swollen middle. Something in Cat’s chest shifted, and her hand nearly jerked free of his.

Alexi’s fingers tightened, and he gave her a quick, hard, warning glare. She lifted her gaze to Langston. Sure enough. He was watching them.

She leaned forward and brushed her lips over Alexi’s brow. Her belly pressed into his chest, and now he was the one who jerked.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, and let her hand fall to her waist. “Did you feel that, darling?”

Alexi stared at her, for the first time she could ever remember, unable to speak.

“Quite a kick, wasn’t it?” she prompted.

He nodded, swallowed, glanced away. What in hell was wrong with him?

“This has all been so upsetting,” she continued. “I should really lie down.”

Alexi leaped to his feet, offering his arm. She made a great show of rocking back and forth, panting, gasping, grunting even, before she stood.

“Sorry ’bout the misunderstanding,” the marshal said.

“Don’t mention it,” Alexi returned, then hustled Cat toward the door so fast she could barely keep up.

“Slow down,” she murmured. “I’m huge.”

Alexi choked, covering the sound with a cough.

“Too bad about the hanging,” the lawman mused. “Folks are gonna be disappointed.”

Alexi’s arm tightened, and Cat dug her nails into his coat. He leaned in and nuzzled her. “Mikhail?”

“Gone.”

His exhale of relief blew back the drooping crown of her bonnet. “Langston won’t let this go.” His voice was lighter than the wind. “He’s gonna come after us.”

Cat threw a glance over her shoulder. Langston—face beet-red, big lips nearly disappeared he’d pressed them together so hard—seemed ready to burst.

She thought he was going to come after them too. Which was why she’d planned ahead.

Cat stopped. “Oh no!”

“The baby?” Alexi blurted.

She rolled her eyes in his direction. He’d sounded truly panicked; he looked it as well. Damn, he was good. Or perhaps she was.

“My ring!” she exclaimed, spinning toward the interior of the room. She patted her dress just above her breasts, stuck her hand into the bodice and felt around.

The marshal and Langston became very interested in the ceiling, which gave her the chance to cross the floor much quicker than a woman as far along as she should be able to, then poke Langston in the chest. “Give it back.”

He gaped, his overly ripe lips opening and closing like a beached fish. “I…Me…What?”

“When I arrived, you tried to grab me.”

“Ya almost fell.”

“You stepped in my way. You touched my neck.”

“Your neck?” His gaze went to her belly again. It
was
kind of hard to miss.

Cat turned to the marshal. “I keep my wedding ring on a chain.” She held her hands in front of her. “My fingers are too swollen for it to fit.”

The lawman frowned. “You think he took it?”

“Who else?”

“Ya lost it ’fore ya come in here,” Langston insisted.

Cat gazed down, thought of Billy, let her eyes flood before lifting them again. “I kissed it right before I walked inside.” Her lips trembled, and she glanced at Alexi, who was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. She smiled at him anyway. “For luck.”

“Well.” The marshal cleared his throat. “It’s a simple thing to prove.” He jerked his chin at Langston. “Empty yer pockets.”

Langston gaped. “Ya believe her?”

“Don’t say I do and don’t say I don’t. But it’ll hurry this up if you just empty yer pockets.”

“Fine.” Langston stuffed his hands into his pockets, began to pull them out, and froze.

“Come on,” the other man snapped.

“I…” Langston glanced at the door. Alexi, who leaned casually against the casing, smirked. “He put it there!”

“He?” Cat repeated. “You mean the
he
who was behind bars?”

The marshal yanked Langston’s hands free. Clutched in his left was a gold wedding ring on a chain.

“Maybe you won’t have to disappoint folks after all,” Alexi observed.

After the marshal shoved Langston in a cell, he returned to them. Alexi had considered lighting out while the man was struggling with the gambler, but he doubted that was something Jed, or Josiah, would do.

No, an innocent man would expect an apology. A poor farmer wouldn’t leave until he had that gold circlet back in his possession. So Alexi played his part and he stayed right where he was, even though Cat kept trying to tug him out the door.

“Reckon I owe you a sorry ’bout that,” the marshal said.

“Reckon you do,” Alexi agreed. He held out his hand, palm up, to receive the ring. Instead, the fellow grasped it in one of his, lowering and lifting Alexi’s arm like a water pump.

“Nice of you to accept.”

“I…” Alexi glanced at Cat, who widened her eyes and jerked her head at the door. “Yes. You’re welcome.”

The marshal released him and Cat turned away, but Alexi didn’t move. She gave an impatient sigh, which he ignored. “The ring?”

Alexi shot his hand out again just as Cat muttered, “Jesus.” He stepped on her toe.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” The lawman dug into his vest pocket and deposited both ring and chain into it. Alexi stared at the golden circlet. He’d never see it before.

Where had she kept it? Did she often take it out and kiss the surface when he wasn’t around to see?

The image made his stomach burn. Damn the rotgut he’d drunk in the saloon before coming here. He should know better than to swallow such swill; it always came back to haunt him in one way or another.

Cat peered at him, the slight crease between her eyes reminding Alexi that he’d been standing there with the ring in his hand for just a little too long.

When he looped the chain over her head, she smiled at him with what most would believe true affection. But Alexi knew the love in her eyes was as much of a show as the tears of a moment before. Cat had always been able to cry on cue. It was one of her many exceptional talents. Along with an incredible sleight of hand that had allowed her to slip the ring into Pardy’s pocket during the instant he’d been distracted. Certainly Alexi had taught her how, but the ability needed to be there in the first place to have any hope of success. He almost felt sorry for the man.

Almost.

“Darling,” Cat murmured, and his teeth ground together.

Her lips twitched. She’d heard. Then she stuck a finger into the neck of her horrible farm-wife gown, pulled it out, and dropped the ring between breasts he could swear were more luscious and ripe than they’d been the last time he’d seen them. He wanted to test them with his hands, taste them with his tongue—

“You need to lie down,” he blurted, and took her arm.

They exited to the shouts of Pardy Langston as he denied stealing the ring, threw more accusations at Alexi’s back, called Cat a few more vicious names. Alexi really wanted to put a stop to the latter with his fists, but the quicker they got out of here, the better. Although—

“Walk slowly,” he murmured. “As if we haven’t a care. Anyone wants to talk to us, do your ‘gonna drop that baby right now’ act; then we’ll hustle.”

She flicked a glare his way. He patted her arm and
announced, “Don’t you worry none, sweet-ums.” She arched a brow. “Just a silly mistake. Shouldn’t have let yourself get so het up.” He laid a hand on her belly, ignoring the way his palm hummed. He wasn’t touching
her
beneath the horrible dress, he was touching—

His fingers flexed. Cloth. A lot of it. Bundled into a sack so tight it
might
feel like a baby. He had no idea. He’d never felt one. What might that be like?

Alexi’s stomach flared. “Rotgut,” he muttered, then stroked what wasn’t even her.

Her brows slammed down. She took his hand, squeezed it—hard—then let it go with a near imperceptible shove. “We need to get gone,” she said between her teeth.

“No.” He patted the hand that still curled around his arm. The fingers clenched; he was going to have more bruises than the ones he’d gotten from Pardy. “Jed and Meg wouldn’t race out of town as if they had something to hide, and we can’t either.”

She muttered several curses a woman like Meg Nelson would never know. Then she smiled at him as if he really was the father of the unborn child beneath her heart, and Alexi stumbled like an untried youth. Something he hadn’t been in—

“Forever,” he whispered.

Her clear green gaze met his. “What is
wrong
with you?”

He had no idea.

“Why did you come?” he asked, as they strolled along the boardwalk like they had nowhere to go, no place to be, nothing to hide.

Beneath the horrible bonnet, she frowned. “What?”

“You should have taken Mikhail and disappeared. There wasn’t anything you could do for me.”

“Obviously there was. You’re out, and the man who put you there is in.” Her frown turned into a smirk. “Ass.”

Alexi wasn’t certain if she was referring to him or Pardy, and it didn’t really matter. “Where is Mikhail?”

“Waiting outside of town.” She lifted a hand before he could speak. “Far enough away not to be found. He
has
done this before.”

She was right.

“How did you know what to say to the sheriff?” he asked.

Cat let out an exasperated huff, sounding exactly like a wife great with child should sound—or at least what Alexi imagined one would sound like. “Everyone in town was talking about what had happened. Who Pardy said you were, what you’d done. And what you said in return.”

Alexi paused, and Cat tugged him along at her side. “Don’t stop! We need to get out of sight.”

Since she was right, he continued walking, but his mind was too full of questions to remain silent. “You heard what Pardy said I’d done.”

She nodded; the brim of the bonnet flopped into her eyes, and she shoved it out. “Didn’t sound like you.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

“How true.”

“Then why did you risk yourself to get me out?”

“You wouldn’t have left me there.”

It wasn’t a question; she believed he would have done anything to release her if she’d been the one in jail. Was she right?

Probably.

“What if the marshal hadn’t believed you?”

“He’d have hung you, and I’d have cried.”

“Over Jed?” he murmured. “Or Alexi?”

She cast him a quick glance from beneath the limp, ugly bonnet. “Does it matter?”

He thought it did. But he wasn’t sure why.

By the time they reached the hotel, Alexi was behaving so strangely Cat’s skin started to itch. Was someone watching them? Following them? Was that target she felt on her back real?

“How long should we stay?” she asked.

“Until full dark at least.”

Cat understood why, but she didn’t like it. She wanted out of this town.

Yesterday.

They strolled through the lobby, heads together, murmuring like the lovebirds they weren’t. Alexi nodded to the clerk, who’d been here when the signora arrived but obviously hadn’t been when Jed had since the man stared at them without recognition.

“Jed and Meg Nelson.” Alexi held out a hand. “Room twelve.”

The clerk handed over the key after a quick glance at the register. Alexi’s scribbled name was so illegible, it could be anything, even Jed and Meg. Another trick of their trade. One never knew when an identity might need to be changed middodge.

Once they were inside, Cat’s gaze circled the room, which was exactly the same as hers, right down to the deck of cards sitting in the center of the table. She crossed to the window, through which a tepid breeze blew. Tossing off her bonnet, she stuck her head out, banging the “baby” against the casing. She wasn’t used to having all this extra front.

She reached around to remove her costume, and Alexi snapped, “Leave it.”

Cat started and glanced over her shoulder. He was closer than she’d thought. Very close. “Why?”

“All we need is for someone to knock on the door
and you’ve…” He waved vaguely in the area of her midsection.