First Class Male (6 page)

“The doc or the bullet?” Pauly asked, laughing.

Mason couldn’t crack a smile. At the thought of the doc, who’d sauntered in earlier as carefree as you please, looking as if he hadn’t destroyed some nice lady’s dream, Mason’s hands had fisted. He’d had to sit on them to keep from smashing them into that no-good lying excuse of a man’s face.

Oh, he knew plenty about Earl Reynolds, and the good doctor was a bad man. Earl had no right exchanging letters with Callie, pretending to be virtuous. While maybe it had worked out for the best, that didn’t make it right. Now that poor lady was trapped here in Clark Creek.

Well, maybe he’d have to do something about that. Mason’s chest warmed against his will as he headed toward the stove.

“You look fit to kill.” Clint looked up from the pile of paperwork on his desk. “You must be mad about Lew Folsom getting away.”

“Course I am.” That was true too. He ground his molars together, jaw clenched, nudged Deeks aside to fetch a mug from the shelf. “As soon as we can transfer custody of the gang members we do have, we’ll be free to hunt down the rest of them.”

“Oh.” Tom looked up from his desk, surprised. He’d been on the raid too. “I just figured we’d rest up, pack up and get back on their trail.”

“That would be ideal.” He held the cup, nodding in thanks as Deeks poured. “But I don’t want to leave this jail under defended. Lew Folsom is talented with dynamite and so we’ll pull double duty just to make sure he doesn’t pay us a visit.”

The back of his neck tingled, another sign of warning. Did it have to do with the Folsom Gang? Was more trouble on the way? Then he spotted a different sort of trouble outside the door. Callie Carpenter, pretty as a lark in a light yellow calico dress, her golden hair pinned up on her head, falling in soft curls. His pulse simply stopped, just stalled out right there as he nearly dropped his coffee cup. Hell, he’d never seen anything as amazing.

“Woo wee,” Tom breathed in appreciation. “That wouldn’t be her, would it?”

“The one Mason rescued?” Pauly gulped. “That surely is her all gussied up. Look at her.”

“She cost us the capture.” Deeks shook his head. Hard to say if he was joking or not. “That’s a woman for you. She’s the reason Lew and his men got away.”

“She’s worth it.” No doubt about that, Mason thought as he set his cup on the nearest desk—Tom’s—not really watching what he was doing. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the enchanting beauty opening the door.

“Hi.” Callie waltzed in like the breeze, bringing the summer with her. The air felt sweeter, the sunshine brighter. She glanced around, a little shy in front of so many strangers, but when her violet-blue gaze found his, she smiled in greeting. It was like a bullet to his chest. The impact rocked him, made him wish he was a different man, a better man.

“Callie.” He went to her, his boots already taking him forward, without a thought. “I see Mariel is taking care of you.”

“I’m properly clothed, that’s an improvement.” She blushed, perhaps aware that every man in this room had done his best not to look at her bare legs when she’d settled down at the campfire last night, but surely every man had peeked anyway. He surely had. She clasped her slender hands together. “I was hoping to find out if there was any word about my satchel left on the train. Or my reticule, by chance. Maybe it turned up?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Mason towered over her, doing his best not to stare at her too hard. She was incredible, so lovely she hurt the eyes with her softly rounded chin, just so dear, her face like porcelain and her eyes, so vivid in color and authenticity. Her heart shone in them.

“I guess I already knew that,” she confessed. “But I was hoping.”

“Right, you had to check. We figure Lew Folsom grabbed the loot when he ran. As for the satchel, you’d need to check with the town sheriff about that. He handles the trouble here in town, we handle the county and territorial crime.” He reached for his hat hanging on a wall hook, donned it and held the door for her. “Let’s take a walk.”

“I think I saw the sheriff’s office on my way over.” She crossed the threshold, skirts rustling, squinting against the blazing sun. “You don’t have to bother escorting me.”

“You are not a bother.” He closed the door behind him, his manner easy-going and less imposing than last night. Today, he’d traded black for blue. Denim trousers, sky blue shirt. The color brought out the baby-blue tone of his eyes. His dark hair fell over his collar, a bit too long for polite society. “We’ll just mosey over and talk with the sheriff. I figure after what you’ve been through, you’ve got to feel shy around strange men.”

“I wish I could deny it.” She gave a shrug, falling in stride beside him down the boardwalk. While she did feel shy, that wasn’t the true issue. Across the dusty street, she spotted a cluster of women, crowded together in front of a dry goods store, whispering and pointing in her direction.

And that wasn’t the worst of it. On her way to Mason’s office, two different men had tipped their hats to her, leering at her in a most disturbing way, as if she were pedaling her privates. She’d felt dirty, exposed and vulnerable. Her chest felt tight, making it hard to breathe.

“I’ll stay with you, that way you’ll feel more comfortable.” Mason tipped his hat at a man tying up his horse at a hitching post and kept walking. “I was going to drop in on you anyway. See how you are settling in.”

“Mariel has been truly generous.” She thought of the simple but comfortable bedroom she’d been given, as clean as could be. “She’s treated me like family. It makes it easier, being away from home.”

“Tell me about your family.” His voice dipped low, genuinely interested, making her midsection tingle.

She dismissed those tingles. Maybe they were something innocent, like the fact that it was nice being around a sincere, honest man, she thought. What was interesting was that no man had made her tingle before.

“I have four sisters.” She tried not to notice the woman who stepped out of a cobbler shop onto the boardwalk in front of her, tried not to notice the look of astonishment and then disapproval. Callie’s face heated as the woman looked her up and down, and hoped Mason didn’t notice. Just act as if that didn’t happen, she thought, and keep going. “Our parents died when we were small, so we grew up in an orphanage. We were lucky to be able to stay together, so that was a good thing.”

“You must be very close to your sisters, since they are your only family.” Again, that sincerity. Somehow that made the man even more attractive.

More tingles shivered through her abdomen. Interesting. She frowned, a little perplexed. “Yes, we’ve been as thick as thieves until I decided to go off and find a husband.”

“Why?” He cast a sideways glance at her, the corner of his mouth hooked up in a curious grin. “Any man with half a brain would be smart to snatch you up on sight. Are there only stupid men where you are from?”

“Why yes, they are stupid. How did you know?” She laughed, not that it was true about the stupid part, but he’d made her feel unexpectedly better. “No, honestly, Holbrook is such a little town with only a handful of shops. It’s rural, and I wasn’t interested in the few farmers who live nearby.”

“I see.” He strolled along, considering her story thoughtfully.

He was a man who knew how to listen, Callie thought. It was really hard not to like him even more. He clearly had many other fine attributes to go along with his magnificent chest.

“Here we are.” His baritone cut into her thoughts, and she blushed, because she could not stop thinking about his chest.

Mason leaned in to open the door, his shirtsleeve brushing her shoulder. The tingles shimmering in her stomach seemed to travel, making her feel tingly everywhere.

Hmm, very curious. She’d never felt anything like this before. Callie swept past him, crossing over the threshold and into the sheriff’s office, aware of the heat radiating off Mason’s muscle-hard body. Once again, the image of his chest bared and gleaming in the firelight returned in full-force, making her stumble, making her a little breathless.

“Bart.” Mason tipped his hat as he followed her through the door, giving a chin jut of greeting. “Did you get my message about the Folsom Gang?”

“Yep. Got half my deputies out keeping watch. I noticed your men are doing the same.” A man with thick silver hair and a sharp, take-no-prisoners gaze rose from behind a large desk. His leather vest bore his tin sheriff’s badge, his red muslin shirt hinted at a muscled form. Clearly he was a man who may have aged but hadn’t lost his strength. Bart strolled around his desk. “Is this the lady?”

Mason nodded. “This is Miss Carpenter.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your troubles, Miss.” Bart nodded once, respect and sympathy warming his dark gaze. “Glad you’re here safe and sound. I want you to know my office is coordinating with Mason’s. We’ll bring those outlaws in. I hear they got away with all your money.”

“That’s right, but that’s not why I’m here.” She smoothed a wrinkle in the borrowed dress she wore. “I know it’s a long shot, but I was hoping someone may have turned in my satchel from the train?”

“Sorry, nothing like that has come in.” Bart did look genuinely apologetic.

“Well, all right.” She shrugged, resigned. “I just had to check.”

“Sure.” The sheriff nodded. “You might try over at the depot. Maybe someone turned it in there.”

“My men already asked,” Mason cut in, lightly touching Callie’s shoulder. She responded, offering a small smile before turning away. That smile dug deep into him, trying to burrow past his defenses. He watched her swish through the open door and into the dusty day and the sun’s heat. He followed her onto the boardwalk with a frown.

The problem wasn’t what to do with a stranded, penniless woman in his town. It was what to do about the heat ticking through his bloodstream. His fingers and palm felt on fire, from touching her, the heat radiating up his arm. He cleared his throat, hoping what he felt didn’t show in his voice.

“There’s a dress shop at the end of the next block.” He gestured toward the striped yellow awning up ahead. “We can get you some ready-made things, everything you need.”

“We?” She tilted her head, arched a slender golden eyebrow, the smile lingering on her lush, rosebud mouth.

That mouth was the most kissable one he’d ever seen. That he noticed her rosebud lips in such detail was another troubling point.

“No, there is no
we.
I’m solely responsible for myself, Mr. Marshal.” She tapped along beside him, silken curls bouncing, her skirts rustling. “I don’t see that it’s your business at all.”

“Really?” He found himself grinning again. “You don’t think it’s my concern that a woman who doesn’t have a stitch of clothing to her name is walking around town?”

“No, as I’m decently clothed.” She gestured toward the pretty little frock hugging her slender feminine curves.

Yeah, he was noticing those feminine curves much more than he should. The graceful arch of her neck, the lean line of shoulders and arms, the generous rise of her bosom, the nip of her tiny waist, and those hips—-He gritted his teeth as an image from last night took over and dominated his brain. Long, lean legs, creamy thighs... He’d really better stop thinking about that or his denims were going to get more than a little tight and he’d be walking around in a seriously indecent state.

“You’re clothed for now,” he argued, stepping from the boardwalk to the street, checking for traffic. There was none. “But for how long? Eventually, you’re going to have to give that dress back, and then what? I can’t have that kind of calamity in this town. Think of the horses and vehicles skidding to a stop or into each other because their drivers are shocked and staring? No, I’m sorry, you’re going to have to keep yourself adequately covered at all times. And if that means making sure you get a decent wardrobe, then that’s my sworn duty.”

“Your sworn duty?” Now she was biting her soft, full bottom lip, trying not to laugh at him. “Do you really think you’re fooling me with that argument?”

“I absolutely do.” Dust kicked up beneath his boots as he crossed the street, keenly aware of her at his side, her womanly softness, the light pad of her gait, the swish of her skirts. Unfortunately, desire still ran hot in his blood and it didn’t look like it was going to leave. Time to admit he was more than a little attracted to her. Just a little. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Nothing to worry about.

“You are not going to buy me a bunch of clothes.” She lifted her skirts so she could step up onto the boardwalk without tripping. “And that’s that.”

“You can order me around all you like, but it’s not going to work.” He had to clench his hands into fists, forcing them at his sides so he didn’t reach out to help her up the steps. Helping her was the gentlemanly thing to do, but since he was trying to get his attraction to her under control, touching her wasn’t a good idea. He frowned. “You’re not in charge here.”

“I’m not?”

“No.” He clomped up the steps and onto the boardwalk beside her, easing over to put more distance between them. It helped.

“We’ll see about that,” she said sweetly, unaware of the emotional hold she had on him.

A door on the shop to their left swung open just ahead, and a matron and her daughter stepped out, packages in hand. Clearly on a shopping trip.

“Marshal.” Mrs. Bauer strategically planted her sturdy frame in his path, placed a pleasant smile on her doughy face and dragged her marriage-aged daughter with her. “It’s always so charming to see you. I was just telling my Griselda all about your heroic capture of the Folsom Gang. I heard about it from Mrs. Dittmeyer. Isn’t that right, Selda?”

The young lady in question nodded, clamping her upper lip over her pronounced overbite. Blushing, she nodded shyly.

“Just doing my job, Ma’am.” He tipped his hat to the marriage-minded mother and sidestepped to the right.

Mrs. Bauer side-stepped too, blocking his path. “I was just telling Griselda how we must have you over to supper to thank you for all you do for our little town. Our
proper
town.” Mrs. Bauer added, shooting a pointed look at Callie.