Texas Lawman

“I figured when I saw you trailin’ her you didn’t need me standin’ guard over that mare,” Jamie said, his attention fully on the female who stood between the two men.

“Well, you can come in handy right now,” Brace told him, handing him the reins and nodding toward the livery stable just down the street from the jailhouse.

The deputy led the mare away, and the woman watched as her horse disappeared inside the open door of the livery. “Come on inside,” Brace told her, then watched as the woman reluctantly crossed the threshold into the small office.

“Sit down,” he said, leading her to a chair and applying a bit of pressure to insure she obeyed his order. He reached to the lantern that hung over his desk and, scratching a match against his rear pocket, he lit the lamp, his eyes narrowing against the glare. Then, leaning against the edge of the desk, he removed his hat, placing it behind him in an automatic gesture. “Now talk,” he told her. “Your name first, if you please.”

She set her jaw stubbornly, and her glare was filled with defiance. “Sarah Murphy,” she said flatly. “Now can I leave?”

“Why are you on this fella’s trail, Miss Murphy?” Brace asked quietly, ignoring her query. She was mute, her lips tightly pressed together, and he watched her patiently, knowing that he could outlast any woman in the world when it came to remaining silent.

Her shoulders slumped a bit, but with a visible effort she lifted her head, meeting his gaze head-on. “He’s a monster, of the very worst kind.”

“What did he do?” Brace asked, careful not to raise his voice. Gentle probing might work best with a wary woman, he thought.

Sarah’s face became a mask of despair as he watched, and the words she spoke seemed to come from some bitter well within her. “He was married to my sister. They had a child, a boy. And then Sierra died and her beloved husband took off with the child.”

“What happened to your sister?”

His worst fears were confirmed as Sarah Murphy lifted a bleak gaze in his direction, and her words verified his thoughts.

“She was strangled, just over two months ago. By a stranger, according to Les. Someone who broke in to the house and attacked Sierra.”

“And you don’t believe that?” Brace asked quietly, prepared for the shake of her head, the scornful line of her lips as she denied his query.

“He’d threatened her before. When Les drinks he’s a demon, mean and hateful. Even sober, he’s got a cruel streak a mile wide.”

“Why didn’t the law stop him?” It seemed like a logical question to Brace, knowing how his own office would react to a woman’s death.

“A woman like my sister doesn’t get a lot of consideration in a town like Big Rapids, Missouri,” Sarah said. “I’d think you’d know that in many places women are at the bottom of the list, and the town we lived in isn’t much different. She was just an ordinary female who made some wrong choices in life.” Her mouth twisted in distaste. “The first of which was marrying Lester Clark.”

“So you followed him to Benning, Texas.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded unbelieving. “Why on earth would he leave Missouri and come to a place like Benning, Texas?”

“I think his people are from the west side of the state. Other than that, I have no idea. I just followed him.” She looked down for a moment, and Brace wondered if she was fighting tears. Her shoulders hunched a bit, then straightened with obvious effort, and she lifted her chin and met his eyes with a gaze that glittered. “Les has my nephew. I want Stephen back.”

Brace considered that idea, recognizing her impassioned plea as that of a woman allowing her emotions to take the reins. “If this man has the child with him, I’d say he has a perfect right to him. Being his father gives him that, legally.”

“Even if that man killed my sister?” Her voice was choked with tears as she spoke the question, and he hesitated to reply, knowing she would resent his answer.

“You have no proof of that, do you?” Before she could respond, he held up a hand and continued. “If the law thought there was any chance of such a thing, they’d have been on his trail faster’n you could—well, pretty damn quick,” he said, altering his reply for female company.

“Men always believe other men.” She spit the words at him and he heard the unspoken message. She’d been shunted aside, given short shrift by the lawmen in question. And perhaps with good reason. Then again, she seemed like an intelligent female. Maybe there was more to this than was visible on the surface.

“And you have no idea why he came here?” Brace asked.

She shook her head, and once more her hair shifted with the movement, seeming almost alive, with waves falling upon her shoulders and back. Enough to distract a man, Brace decided, unable to conceal the admiring glance he turned upon her. She was young, not looking to be more than twenty—too young for a man like him to be considering.

Her eyes were in shadow and he bent toward her, lifting her chin a bit, the better to see the blue depths. With a sharp movement she twisted her head, effectively removing his hand from her skin. He allowed it without an argument. He’d seen the moment of panic she’d attempted to hide, noted the automatic withdrawal from his touch.

Straightening slowly, he watched her, willing her to shift in the chair, waiting for the long moments of silence to have an effect. And waited in vain.

Sarah Murphy would no doubt make a good hunter, possessing the ability to remain still and in one position for however long it might take for a deer to leave its hiding place and meander across her path. Brace could almost envision such a scene, and then he smiled at his fanciful thoughts.

“You think this is humorous?” she asked. “You’re enjoying keeping me here?” Her chin tilted again, this time at her own volition, and her gaze touched his with a stony glare. “If Les is leaving town while you stand there leaning on your desk, it won’t make much of a difference. I’ll still find him, no matter where he goes.”

Brace shook his head. “Not tonight, you won’t.” He reached behind him, opened the desk drawer and removed a ring of keys. They jangled at his touch, and he palmed them, then stood erect. “You need to use the necessary before I put you in a cell?” he asked politely. “There’s one out back.”

He watched the blush climb her cheeks, painting her throat and then suffusing her face with color. “You’re determined not to leave me any self-respect, aren’t you?” Her jaw clenched, and again her hair caught the light as she tossed her head defiantly.

“I’d think you’d rather use the outdoor facility than the slop pail in your cell,” he said reasonably. “Up to you.”

“What’s the charge against me?” she asked, obviously reluctant to accompany him to a cell.

“Vagrancy, for now,” he told her. “I’ll decide in the morning if I need to jail you for threatening to murder a man. All depends on how the night goes.”

“How the night goes? What is that supposed to mean?” Her face lost its rosy hue quickly as she responded to his statement. Then she rose with care, as if her legs required a bit of coaxing in order to hold her upright. “Lead the way, Sheriff,” she said.

“First, let’s see if you’re wearing a weapon,” he said mildly. “If you were planning on shooting a man, chances are you have access to a gun.” He cast a measuring glance at her and couldn’t resist a smile. “Can’t see where you’re hidin’ it, though. Those pants fit you like a glove.”

“Are you going to search me?” she asked. “Shall I empty my pockets?”

“Are you armed?” he returned, taking one long step, looking down at her from closer range.

She shook her head. “No. I have a gun in my saddlebag.” And then she shrugged. “Unless you count the knife in my pocket, I’m not much of a threat to you.”

“Let’s have the knife,” he said, holding out his hand.

She slid slender fingers into her side pocket and withdrew a small penknife, placing it onto his palm with a slap. “There you are. Did you feel threatened?”

“Any weapon is dangerous if its user is intent on causing bodily harm,” he answered quietly. “This little knife could do a lot of damage.”

“Well, all it’s been used for up until now is cutting branches to use for bedding and for a spit over my fire.”

Brace slid it into his pocket. “For tonight, it’ll be safe with me,” he told her. “Now, have you decided about the trip out back?”

“I suppose you’re coming along.” Her words were a statement of fact, he decided, and he answered in like form.

“You’d better believe it, ma’am.”

He lifted a hand toward the back door of the jail, and she led the way past two empty cells and then opened the door to the outside. The darkness was almost solid before them, the moon hidden behind a cloud, the stars barely seen. The faint outline of a small building gave notice of her destination, and Sarah walked toward it.

“Do I get to go in alone?” she asked, her hand on the latch.

“Now, Miss Sarah, you should know better than to ask that. I’m not a man given to looking where I’ve not been invited. I’ll just wait right here.”

She pulled the door closed behind her and he grinned into the darkness. Damn, she was a handful. He’d give much to keep her around for a while, but overnight was probably as far as he could go without causing an uproar, should the ladies in town hear of it. Turning his back on the outhouse, he folded his arms across his chest and waited.

Standing with her hand on the latch wasn’t getting her anywhere, Sarah decided. The knowledge that the lawman waited outside, just six feet away, was daunting, the presence of a jail cell with her name on it even more so. She’d never been in jail. Indeed, had never had a run-in with the law in any way, shape or form. Unless she counted the sheriff who’d checked out Sierra’s death and uttered bland words of sympathy.