Whirlwind Groom

“Nice to meet you, Josie.” Cora gestured to the man standing at her shoulder. “This is my brother, Loren Barnes.”

He shook her hand, his blue eyes warm. “I’m new, too. It’s nice that I’m not the only one.”

“Where are you from?”

“Fort Smith.”

“I’ve never been there.”

Josie spoke warmly, unhurriedly, but Davis Lee felt nervousness ripple off her. Why?

Susannah touched Josie’s arm. “I do hope you decide to stay in Whirlwind. You’d like it here.”

Josie smiled.

As Susannah and Catherine admired the other woman’s dress, Riley edged up next to Davis Lee and said in a low voice, “Why are you lookin’ at her like you expect her to pull a gun and hold us up?”

Davis Lee took a gurgling Lorelai from his brother and bounced her on his shoulder as he eyed the seamstress. “Twice I’ve caught her showing a powerful interest in my jail. She was watching it from the alley between the livery and Pete’s saloon until I saw her there. Now she has a room at the Whirlwind that looks right at the jail, and yesterday, I found her inside. I think she’s connected to McDougal.”

His brother frowned. “How?”

“Sweetheart, maybe, or relative. I don’t know yet, but I’ve got a telegram ready to send to the Galveston County sheriff and see what I can find out. I’d have sent the wire yesterday, but Tony got sick and had to close the telegraph office.”

“It sure would be a shame if she’s taken up with the likes of a McDougal. She’s pretty.”

“Which doesn’t mean anything. She’s probably also a liar.”

“Maybe not. Every pretty woman isn’t a swindler.”

Davis Lee gave him a flat stare. “Just because you found a good woman like Susannah doesn’t mean we’ll all be so lucky.”

“True enough, but maybe Josie will surprise you.”

“She will. If she keeps away from my prisoner.” Davis Lee watched a shy smile cross her face as Susannah and Catherine spoke to her.

His brother could be fooled if he wanted. Riley wasn’t the one who’d had his heart trampled by a beautiful heartless woman. Davis Lee was harder to dupe and he knew Josie Webster was trying to do just that. First thing tomorrow he would wire Galveston’s sheriff.

The next evening Josie paused outside Sheriff Holt’s office at six-forty-five. Gray clouds had scudded across the sky all day threatening showers, and the air had been pleasantly cool, but the rain hadn’t come. Pressing a hand to her stomach did nothing to calm the flurries there. She had watched the jail today while finishing Gus Simon’s work shirts.

Sheriff Holt had reverted to his original schedule and stepped out for his usual pie and coffee at nine-forty-five, then for lunch at twelve-thirty. Josie made a quick trip to the telegraph and post office to send Gus’s shirts to Galveston. Midafternoon, Catherine Donnelly had arrived for Josie to take her measurements. As Catherine softly talked about her fiancé, a Texas Ranger who was taking care of some business in Houston, Josie worked up an estimate of the cost and time involved to make a dress for Catherine’s upcoming wedding. For that hour, Josie had been unable to watch the jail. As far as she knew, McDougal hadn’t been let out other than for a trip to the outhouse.

The sheriff hadn’t even allowed McDougal to close the privy door. Whenever Holt escorted his shackled prisoner outside, Josie noted it was with a posture that hinted at quick reflexes and an unstinting alertness. The rugged man caused her tongue to twist on itself, but so far he hadn’t shown any inkling of knowing the real reason she was here.

As she lifted her hand to knock on the door of the sheriff’s office, it opened and he smiled down at her. His eyes were a piercing blue in the evening light. “Good evening, Miz Webster. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you. I truly appreciate you taking the time to give me these lessons.”

“You’re welcome.” He reached behind him to shut the door. “I’ll be back around dark, Jake.”

“Take your time,” a deep masculine voice answered.

As Josie walked down the steps in front of the sheriff, he asked, “Do you ride or should we take a wagon?”

“I ride. Where are we going?”

“About two miles outside of town.”

She nodded, struck by the intense way he studied her. He appeared to be anticipating a reaction from her, but about what?

The sheriff had borrowed a black mare for her from the livery and moved to help her into the saddle, but she had already mounted. She had worn her dark blue split skirt so she could ride astride.

As they left Whirlwind behind, Josie tried to keep her attention on the patches of yellow and purple wildflowers spotting the flat landscape and not the way the muscles in Davis Lee’s thighs flexed as he guided his horse.

But the burlap bag full of clanging tin cans that he carried behind his saddle drew her attention to him repeatedly.

She needed to remember that he and these lessons were just her way of trying to find out information about Ian McDougal. Her next attempt on the outlaw wouldn’t be hindered.

As they rode leisurely down the dirt road, Davis Lee glanced at her. “I heard this morning that a big hurricane hit Galveston last night.”

Concern flared for all the friends she’d left behind. When she was thirteen, a vicious storm had hit Indianola, killing one hundred and seventy-six people in the city down the coast from Galveston and entirely flooding her city. “Was anyone hurt or killed?”

“I haven’t heard yet. All of their telegraph wires are down.”

Which happened in almost every hurricane. Josie frowned. “So how did you know about the storm?”

“Some folks from Houston spread the word. The sheriff there sent a wire to several counties to the north and west.”

“Oh.” Josie decided she should keep her mouth shut. Davis Lee wiring the Galveston County sheriff was something she hadn’t considered. The very real possibility that he might ask Sheriff Locke about her made her squirm in the saddle.

About ten minutes later, Davis Lee urged his buckskin mare off the wagon-rutted road and into the prairie’s short grass. Josie followed, reining up a good distance from the road when he did.

She dismounted, noticing a small stone in a cleared patch of ground just on the other side of her horse. A clump of blue wild verbena grew at the stone’s base.

“The McDougals killed our stage driver here,” Davis Lee said when his gaze followed hers to the stone. “You met his wife yesterday. Cora Wilkes?”

“Yes.” Josie stared at the small memorial the woman had erected, pain flooding her at the similar losses she had suffered. She struggled to keep her face blank as rage grew. How many people would McDougal kill before he was stopped?

“That gang also nearly killed my sister-in-law as well as Catherine Donnelly.”

Shocked, Josie spun.

“They nearly ran Susannah to ground with their horses and they kidnapped Catherine.” Davis Lee’s eyes glinted dangerously. “My cousin is a Texas Ranger who’d been chasing the McDougals for almost two years. The two of us, along with my brother, Riley, and my deputy took care of three of them in a shoot-out several months back. Ian managed to escape, but he’s in jail now. He’ll pay for what he’s done.”

Recognizing the same stern determination in Davis Lee’s voice that she often felt, she edged closer to him.

His gaze locked onto hers. “They killed Jericho’s friend, another Ranger and nearly did Jericho in, too. If it hadn’t been for Catherine’s nursing skills, he would’ve died.”

Images of her parents’ and William’s bodies burned in her mind. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill him.”