Much Ado About Marshals (Hearts of Owyhee) (2011) (26 page)

While he could round up stampeding cattle with the best of men, or hold his own with a gun against any rustler, he’d rather wrestle a six-foot rattler in his birthday suit than get himself in an argument with an irate woman, especially Daisy. Naw, he’d leave her alone for another mile or two. Damn, maybe if she had a cup of coffee she’d be more agreeable.

They rode for a while, each staring straight ahead. Well, he did sneak a look at her now and then, but it didn’t do him any good. They passed by a ranch house that he knew was about a mile from town, and he knew he’d better get said what he needed to say.

He didn’t know how he’d manage it—he had to keep her from knowing she was marrying a man who’d lied, and lived a lie. A man shot for bank robbery by her own sister. A man who, under false pretenses, let the town put him in a position of integrity, who let the people trust him.

But he couldn’t live dishonorably forever, and the first thing he was going to do was marry the fine lady he’d bedded. He could do no less. Then he’d take her away, to the
Baker
Valley
, and together, they’d build a ranch. With a little luck, she’d never know what a grievous wrong he had done to her and her town.

He cleared his lungs with a deep breath. “Daisy?”

She showed no response.

“Daisy, we’re nearly back. We need to talk.”

She kept her gaze glued between the mare’s ears, her jaw set. “So talk.” Her voice was curt, but not exactly mean.

“We’ll get married—right away. I’ll tell your father.” He thought he saw a flicker of a smile, but then she frowned. Still, she didn’t look at him.

“I wasn’t aware of our impending marriage.”

What an exasperating woman! After the night they’d spent, of course they’d have to get married. Even he wasn’t that dishonorable. He sighed. “Daisy, surely you understand that we’ll need to tie the knot.”

“Yes, I do. What I don’t understand is why you’d assume we’d be married when you haven’t even asked me.”

He nodded, finally understanding that a woman of Daisy’s character would want a formal proposal. Well, hell, if she wanted a proposal, she’d get one, but he wished she’d at least look at him. Damn and damnation, maybe it was better if she didn’t. He licked the al
kalai dust off his lips. “Daisy
...”

Naw, this wouldn’t do. She’d want something more than the question put to her on horseback. He swung off his gelding and caught the reins of her mare. He licked his lips again—he couldn’t remember them ever being so dry—and looked up at her. “Miss Daisy Gardner, uh
…
”

She gazed down at him, her features softening. “Yes?”

His knees nearly buckled, whether from fright or joy, he didn’t know. “Would, uh, would you consider being my wife?” There, he’d said it—not too pretty, but he’d said it.

With a
beautiful, heart-melting smile
, she said,
“Yes.”

T
hat’s all she said, but it was the one word that counted. He was absolutely determined to make a good life for her, away from the mess he’d stirred up for the last few years. He hauled her off her horse and kissed her, claiming her for forever. Never would he have thought he’d feel so strongly about that, but he did. The urge to protect her, provide for her, and give her lots of babies seemed more important than anything else in the world, and that’s just what he’d do.

He lifted her back to her sidesaddle. “All right, then. I’ll talk to your daddy.” He remounted. “Let’s get on our way.”

As for the making babies part, he especially looked forward to many years of that.

Oreana seemed like a peaceful little town, just the sort of place Sidney Adler had wanted to settle down, find a wife, and start a family. The ride from Winnemucca had been a hard one, much worse than the tough, long road from
San Francisco
to northern
Nevada
.

He patted his mule on the neck as he
neared
the town’s only livery. Tired, hungry, and his leg aching, he was damned glad for the trip to be over.
It
had been four weeks since he’d been shot and left for dead, he still hadn’t fully recovered.

“Katie, in a few minutes you’ll be bedded down in a clean stall
munching on
sweet hay
. Me, a hot bath, a decent meal, and a soft bed sounds just the thing.” He couldn’t meet Miss Daisy Gardner looking like some sort of a saddle tramp and expect her to think he was a respectable lawman. He just hoped she didn’t mind that he was a foot shorter than what he’d said. Lying about his height had bothered him, but no one want
ed
a short marshal, even a former Pinkerton Agent, so there’d been no choice.

Dismounting, he led his mule into the livery. The blacksmith, probably the livery owner, looked up and nodded, then continued talking to another man.
Sidney
walked over to them, leading Katie. “Howdy, gents.”

At that moment, he caught sight of the star on the other man’s chest—deputy marshal, it said. He’d rather pick his own deputy, but he decided to reserve judgement until he talked to the man a bit.

“I’ll git the men ready,” the deputy said. “If they ain’t here by noon, we’ll meet here and go looking.”

“Someone missing?”
Sidney
asked.

“Yup,” replied the deputy. “Miss Daisy and the marshal. We ain’t seen her since yesterday noon—could be the marshal found her, we don’t know, but he’s looking for a couple of bad hombres—been out since last night when we found the boy and the dog.”

Marshal?
Oreana had a marshal, besides a deputy? Hell,
he
was the marshal! “So how long has the marshal been here?”

“Oh, ‘bout a month,” the blacksmith answered. “Good man, Marshal Adler is. Daisy hired him from
San Francisco
—he brought Bosco here with him.”

Marshal Adler?
San Francisco
?
“Adler, you say. I knew some Adlers from down that way.”

“Sidney Adler. You know him?”

“No.”
Sidney
wanted to know who and why
a man was impersonating him
. Now, though, was no time to tip his hand. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

The blacksmith took Katie’s reins. “Nice looking mule you got here. So how long you staying?”

Long enough to find out what the hell’s going on here,
Sidney
vowed, and to get his job back. “She’s a good old girl, all right. Racing mule—comes from thoroughbred stock.” He patted her on the nose. “Give her a good stall. I’ll be here a while. Might even settle here.”

“Welcome to Oreana, then.” The blacksmith smiled and held out his hand for a shake. “I’m Jonas Howard, and this is Bosco Kunkle.”

Sidney
shook both men’s hands, taking careful note of the deputy. He had an honest face and seemed like a jolly fellow. “Si—uh, Sam Jones.”

He’d get to the bottom of this duplicity, but he’d have to be careful. The question that niggled at him the most was “why?” Maybe the man was a swindler—or worse. Whatever the so-called marshal was really after,
Sidney
was certain that the town would be worse for it.

“Will you be needing a place to stay?” Jonas asked.

“Reckon so. Got any recommendations?”

“Sure do. My wife runs a boarding house—quality feather beds and the best food you ever ate.”

The deputy smiled, showing a missing front tooth. “Yup, this here town boasts some mighty good food all right.” He patted his paunch. “I’m headed past there if you want me to show you where it is.”

Sidney
nodded. “Much obliged.”

“I’ll take your mule to the stall.” Jonas tugged on the rein, but Katie didn’t move a muscle. And wouldn’t.

Sidney
had trained her to stay by him no matter what, and, after the bandits had attacked him, she had saved his life. “I’ll do it. Just tell me which one you want her in.”

After he had removed the saddle and brushed her down, his stomach reminded him that it had been nearly a week since he’d had a decent sit-down meal. But things sure hadn’t turned out the way he’d planned.

In his quest to settle down and simplify his life, it had only taken five minutes to complicate things worse than ever. He was determined to find out the story on this low-life who was pretending to be an officer of the law, and worse, had stolen his job and his name.

Sidney
patted Katie on the butt. “Rest up, little lady. We might be chasing hard cases quicker than we thought.”

Within a few minutes, Katie was content and he left the stall to join the deputy, who, if appointed by the imposter, was also acting under false pretenses. He reserved judgment, though. Kunkle didn’t strike him as a man who had enough brains to pull a scam for long.

As
Sidney
walked to the main entrance of the livery, Kunkle patted the blacksmith on the back. “See you later, Jonas,” he said, then turned to
Sidney
and asked, “Ready to get yourself settled?” He took one of
Sidney
’s bags, and
Sidney
followed him down the street.

Two horses
with
two riders approached. “There they are! Whoo-wee, I knew the marshal would find her. He can do dang neart anything he sets his mind to.”

Sidney
took a good study of the man in question. He was good-sized and probably popular with the ladies. Dark hair—looked black but was really dark brown. He had two-day whiskers but probably preferred to shave every day. His face wasn’t that of a crook, but his eyes looked guilty as hell. Still, his strong, callused hands showed he was a working man, and crooks had an aversion to labor.

“Glad to see your sorry hide!” Bosco hollered to him. “You all right?”

“Yup. Right as rain.”

“Miss Daisy?”

“She’s fine, too.”

Bosco gave
Sidney
a friendly slap on the back. “This here’s Sam Jones. Might settle here.”

The so-called marshal tipped his hat. “Jones.” He tilted his head toward Daisy. “This is Miss Daisy Gardner.”

Sidney
turned his attention to the woman. She didn’t look like an easy mark. This man must be good—maybe one of the best. He’d have to be careful not to tip his hand. “Good morning, marshal, Miss Gardner.”

Nudging his gelding on, he said, “Excuse me, boys, but I’ve got to get Miss Daisy back to her parents.”

Bosco backed away from the acting marshal’s horse and patted
Sidney
on the shoulder. “We best get you to the boarding house. You look plumb tuckered, and I’m telling you—they got some real fine food in this here town. You hungry?”

“That, I am.” And without a job until he solved his first case.

Chapter 14

As she and the marshal rode to the mercantile, Daisy couldn’t keep her triumphant smile in check as she waved to the neighbors who greeted her. There was Mrs. Mueller, her portly bosoms bouncing as she waved, and Mr. Roth even stuck his head out of the bank and smiled. Jonas had run to the boarding house, so she supposed Sarah and her mother would be visiting shortly.

They rode directly to the store, and it was all Daisy could do to wait for the marshal to help her off the horse. When her feet hit the ground, she grasped the marshal’s hand and hopped onto the boardwalk. It might have looked as if she skipped into the store, dragging the marshal behind her, but she’d like to think she was more proper than that. She could hardly wait to tell them the news! She couldn’t, though, not until the marshal had talked to her father.

Her mother stood behind the counter, wiping the same spot over and over again, until she glanced up and saw Daisy. She threw the cloth into the air and squealed, then ran to her daughter. Daisy grunted as her mother squeezed the stuffing out of her.

“I’m so glad you’re home!” Then she frowned and grabbed Daisy’s shoulders, giving her a little shake. “Where have you been, young lady?”

Daisy really didn’t want to tell anyone about her secret cave, which was no longer a secret since the marshal had found it. “I was just fine—just got stuck a ways out of town. I went for a ride, but then I saw the two men that the marshal’s been after—you remember, the man who stole some boots from the store and his brother? And so I slipped into a cave so they wouldn’t see me, but then it got dark, and then the marshal found me, so here I am!”

And oh, how I wouldn’t like to tell you the real news!

Her mother gave her another hug. “Well you’re home now, and for that I’m happy.”

A woman sniffed, and Daisy noticed Mrs. Proctor for the first time. “So you spent the night—
alone
? With a
man
?”

Daisy felt heat flush her face and flood her body. Definitely a man.

Aunt Grace stepped between them—Daisy hadn’t seen her, either. “Now, Cordelia, you really oughtn’t jump to conclusions.”