Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) (11 page)

Searching for Leo, Jo circled the crowd and spotted him up front, clapping his hands over his head, leaping up and down.

“Leo!” she called, sidling along the platform. She reached him and grabbed his hand with her weak arm. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pulled him through the crowd, out into the open.

“Ma! What are you doing? Didn’t you hear? Marshal Collins is The Bruiser!”

“Let’s go, Leo.” She started off toward their wagon down the street, but Leo didn’t follow.

“Don’t you want to hear the rest of the speech?”

She turned back, her temper rising and overflowing. She’d never been so furious with Leo. He’d never given her reason to be. “Leo, you have disobeyed me enough. Come with me now.”

“But Ma!”

Just then, Zeb raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “As president of the city council, I can report that the election for mayor will be held one week from today. The election for county sheriff will be held as usual in November, and I believe…” He paused, then his voice took on a humorous tone. “I believe, judging by the enthusiasm I hear today, that we may have a suitable candidate in our very presence!” He gestured toward Fletcher, and Jo shook her head in disbelief.

“I must thank you all for your support, and I’ll see you on election day!” The crowd applauded and cheered.

“All right, Leo, it’s over. Come with me now.”

“But Ma! If Mr. Stone’s going to be mayor and Marshal Collins is going to be county sheriff, maybe they can help us find the men who killed Pa!”

Before Jo could stop him, Leo turned and ran into the crowd toward Zeb.

Chapter Ten

Breathing hard, Jo followed Leo into the crowd. She pushed her way to the center of the shifting mass, but others were eager to brush elbows with the future mayor. Ambitious businessmen butted ahead of her, bumped her in the shoulder, which caused her no shortage of pain, knocked her off balance and into other equally aggressive money-grubbers.

“Leo!” she called out, but the noisy mob smothered her voice.

Forcing her way forward, she found herself stuck somewhere in the middle of the hubbub, not sure which way to go. She grunted and pushed at someone, then felt a hand squeeze her arm and pull her back.

“Are you looking for Leo?” the familiar voice asked as they emerged from the mob. Jo whipped around to face Marshal Collins.

“Yes. Have you seen him?”

Fletcher lifted his chin. “Over there.”

Jo looked up at the platform. Zeb was down on one knee, the tail of his long black coat laid out behind him, while he spoke to Leo, who stood in the front row.

A flash memory of the night in the barn filled Jo with panic. She saw the unmistakable eyes that peered out from holes in a black hood while she’d watched everything from a shadowy stall, knowing she would die if she showed herself.

Jo knew she must show herself now and retrieve Leo if she was to make a difference this time. She squared her shoulders and stepped forward, but Fletcher stopped her.

“Wait, I’ll take you. There are a lot of men wanting to be first.” He donned his hat and guided her toward the platform steps, his hand on the small of her back.

Oddly enough, and despite the camaraderie she’d just seen between him and Zeb, she was glad he was here to escort her to the front. His touch and his presence made her feel less alone, less powerless as she made her way to face Zeb.

She picked up her skirts and climbed the steps, until she stood behind him, looking down at his clean black coat stretched tight across his back, hearing his laughter as he spoke to her son.

“Zeb, there’s someone here to see you,” Fletcher said. Jo put on her most captivating smile.

Zeb tousled Leo’s hair and idly rose to his feet. He turned to face Jo. “Why, Mrs. O’Malley, it is a sincere pleasure, indeed, to see you again. It has been too long.”

Jo answered in a light tone that masked what she truly felt—nauseous from being so near to him. She held out her hand and he shook it. “Congratulations on your campaign for mayor.”

He focused his steely gaze upon her. “I understand you were wounded the other night. How are you faring?”

His question caught her off guard, and she had to remind herself of the role she must play. “I’m much better, thank you.”

Zeb rested his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder. “I have every confidence that this man’s presence will discourage such crimes in the future. It’s why I brought him here in the first place.”

Fletcher responded in good humor. “I thought it was because my sister missed me.”

Elizabeth approached from behind. “Oh, but it was, dear brother. You have no idea how I hounded my husband about it. He had no choice but to finally give in.”

Fletcher walked to the edge of the platform. “Leo, come and meet my sister.” The boy ran around to the stairs while Fletcher began the introductions. “Mrs. O’Malley, this is my sister, Elizabeth Stone.”

Too much was happening at once. Jo had not wanted any of this. She had only wanted to get her bag out of the privy floor and return home again. How had she ended up here, shaking hands with the woman she had tried to make a widow? “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Stone.”

“No, it’s
my
pleasure, Mrs. O’Malley. My brother spoke to me about you, and I can assure you he plans to do everything in his power to apprehend the man who shot you. I was beside myself thinking of it. You, my brother and my husband, all nearly killed in one shootout.”

Jo found it increasingly difficult to look into this woman’s kind eyes. She seemed so different from Zeb. How had she ended up as his wife? She could not possibly know the truth.

Fletcher affectionately rested his hand on Leo’s shoulder and introduced him to Elizabeth. They shook hands, then Elizabeth turned to Jo.

“Will you come for tea sometime? I’m starting an embroidery club on Tuesday evenings if you would like to join us. Tonight we’re meeting at the Presbyterian church on Central Avenue at seven o’clock.”

Scrambling for a polite reply, Jo smiled. “I shouldn’t commit myself. Things are busy on the ranch this time of year and so much has fallen upon my shoulders….” An awkward silence ensued until Leo offered a needless explanation. “My pa died last winter.”

Elizabeth nodded serenely. “I’m very sorry about that. Unfortunately, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” She directed her gaze at Jo, who felt shaken. “Will you at least stop by for tea when you are in town next?”

After a long pause, Jo gave in. “Of course.” She felt Zeb’s inquisitive stare.

Elizabeth kissed her brother on the cheek. “We’ll see you at supper, Fletcher? We missed you last night.” Smiling, she headed for the stairs. “I must go and speak to Mrs. Jennings about this evening. Excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you both.” She descended from the platform and met an older woman at the bottom. Jo watched them converse, envious of such a simple existence where the greatest concern was in acquiring the proper color thread.

She glanced back at Leo. “We must be getting home. There’s work to do.” She turned to go, hoping the departure would not be difficult.

“But wait,” Leo called after her. She halted, closing her eyes with sinking hopes. “I need to talk to Mr. Stone.”

Jo wheeled around, and felt the impatient crowd listening and staring, waiting for her response. “I’m sure he’s very busy, Leo. Perhaps another time.”

She stood tall and silent, willing Leo with her eyes to follow, but knowing she would have to remain and control the damage to come.

“What is it, son?” Zeb asked, resting his hand on Leo’s shoulder. The intimate gesture made Jo’s skin prickle.

Leo looked up at him hopefully. “The men who killed my father were never caught. Now that you’re going to be mayor, I thought you might be able to do something about it.”

Revealing nothing, he replied, “Such as?”

“You could spread word around. Marshal Collins said he’d help, and if he becomes sheriff, then—” Zeb’s eyes darted suspiciously at his 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 attraction he was caught up in. He had to focus on his job instead of wishing his potential witness was wanting him to take her into his arms and start unbuttoning her blouse.

Later, of course. After dark. When her son wasn’t around….

He hung his hat on a hook by the door, and raked his fingers through his hair to distract himself from the heat in his blood. He went around the back of the largest desk and unlocked the top drawer to retrieve a second set of keys that jingled between his fingers.

All the while, Mrs. O’Malley stood quietly by the door—seemingly unaware of how much her presence affected him—while Leo walked around the room, looking at the “Wanted” posters on the walls.

“Is it true what Zeb said?” Mrs. O’Malley asked curiously. “That you plan to run for sheriff?”

Half laughing, Fletcher replied, “No. I reckon Zeb was just trying to make up for what happened the other night, to give folks something new to talk about.” He set down the report he was looking at and added, “I’m not the political type, nor am I interested in anything that permanent.”

“But it’s a very prestigious position.”

“Doesn’t matter much to me. I don’t plan on stayin’ in Dodge forever. I’m only going to hang around long enough to establish some law around here and clean up the town’s reputation. Make sure Elizabeth’s okay.”