The Sheriff

“Thank you, no.”

“I don’t want to argue, Miss VanNam. Get your clothes. You’re coming with me. You’ll be safe at the jail.”

Travis stood with his feet apart, his hands at his sides. The lamplight cast eerie shadows on the mansion’s walls. And on the marshal’s scowling face. He looked angry.

“What an absurd proposal.” Kate swiftly vetoed the idea, uncaring how angry it made him. “Have I done something illegal? You don’t own me, Marshal. You can’t tell me what to do.”

Travis exhaled heavily. “I’m trying to help you here.”

“I don’t need or want your help, Marshal. All I want is for you to leave. Now. And in the future, if you’ll kindly stay out of my way, I promise I’ll stay out of yours.”

Travis gazed at the gorgeous golden-haired girl standing there with her hands on her hips and her chin raised, speaking to him as no one else dared.

“Do you have a gun, Miss VanNam?”

Kate raised her right arm. From the drawstring reticule dangling from her wrist, she withdrew her Colt revolver. “I am armed, Sheriff.”

“You know how to use that thing?”

“Certainly,” she lied. “I’m an excellent shot.”

“Fine, you hear anything moving, shoot and ask questions later. Anything comes around here, be it bear or panther or man, shoot to kill.”

“Does that include you, Sheriff?” The minute she’d said it, Kate wished she could take it back.

His dark eyes blazed and he took a menacing step toward her. “Try it, sweetheart.”

Kate swallowed hard. She started raising the revolver. In a flash he was next to her and had taken the gun away from her. He grabbed the sashed waistband of her dress and yanked her up against him. His face was now inches from her own. “Never aim a weapon unless you mean to fire it. You hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Damn it to hell, I knew it.”

“Knew what?” she asked, intensely aware that his slim hips and long legs were pressed flush agains thers. She could feel the power and heat radiating from him.

“That you’d be trouble. You are trouble. You’ll have trouble. You’ll cause trouble. For yourself. And for me.”

“That’s a lot of trouble, Sheriff.”

“Too much trouble.” He released her, stepped back and placed the revolver on the sofa. “Why don’t you be a good girl, pack up and leave before anybody gets hurt?”

“You must have a hearing disorder, Marshal,” Kate said acidly. “My uncle Nelson was hard of hearing, so I’m used to having to raise my voice to be heard.” She then shouted loudly, “I am staying in Fortune, and if you don’t like it I’d suggest you stay out of my sight.”

Both annoyed and amused by her determination, Travis raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, Miss VanNam, but I catch you anywhere near a saloon or out on the streets after dark and you’re going to jail.”

“Fair enough, Marshal,” Kate said. “And if I catch you anywhere near this house after dark, I’ll be forced to shoot you.”

Eight

Travis muttered to himself as he walked back to Fortune.

Damn her to hell!

Of all the gold camps in all the mountains in all the world, why did she have to wind up in his? Protecting Kate VanNam would be a twenty-four-hour-a-day job, and just himself and his deputy, Jiggs, wouldn’t be enough manpower to keep ten thousand desperate miners at bay.

Impossible.

He’d be damned if he’d spend all his time worrying about a woman who didn’t have enough sense to know what she was in for. She’d confront all sorts of problems up there all alone in that run-down mansion where she didn’t even have a door to lock.

By the time Travis reached the sidewalks of town, he was in a black mood. He would have to forget about Miss Kate VanNam.

It had been a long day. Travis was tired and thirsty.

But when he heard the piano music coming from the Golden Nugget, he finally smiled. He walked into the saloon and immediately felt better. All was as it should be.

In a corner was Big Maude, the muscular, six-foot-plus Amazon who was a fixture at the Golden Nugget, presiding nightly over the roulette wheel. With a smile, she called for him to come join her.

In the most crowded part of the room, Rosalita, a strikingly pretty Spaniard, sat behind the monte table, a cigarillo dangling from her painted red lips. Players flocked to Rosalita’s table, their hard-earned money going across the green baize and into her small deft hands.

Travis walked inside just as the beautiful, dark-haired Valentina, garbed in a dazzling gown of bronze satin, climbed up on the square piano, smiled down at the piano player and crossed her shapely legs.

Whistles and applause from the roomful of men was deafening.

Valentina caught sight of Travis and threw him a kiss. He nodded and headed for the bar. She turned her attention on her adoring audience. Raising her hands for silence, she waited until they had calmed a bit before she placed a palm on the skirt of her shimmering gown, raised it a trifle, opened her mouth and began to sing.

“Ring, ring de banjo,

I love that good old song,

Come again my true love,

Oh where you been so long?”

Travis stood at the bar. He tossed down a straight whiskey and motioned the barkeep to pour another. As the liquor burned its way down into his chest, he relaxed and stopped worrying about the strong-willed, golden-haired Kate VanNam. Instead he looked at Valentina perched atop the piano, singing to the miners in her sweet, clear voice.

She was both a temptress and a tease. Her gown was cut so low and the waist was so tight that the tops of her full breasts swelled above the bronze silk. Travis grinned. He could see the twin nipples pushing against the shimmering fabric and a shapely gartered knee of her crossed legs.

“…Come again my true love,” she sang, and looked directly at Travis.

He lifted a hand, pointed a finger at the ceiling. She smiled and nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.

Travis turned and walked out of the saloon. For a time he stood just outside in the cool mountain air, listening to Valentina sing. Then he walked away. When he reached the alley, he turned and went to the back of the two-story building that housed the rollicking Golden Nugget. He climbed the outside stairs, fished in his trousers pocket for the key and turned the lock.

When he entered Valentina’s private quarters Gigi bowed and quickly took her leave. She had been told that anytime—day or night—Travis McCloud came to visit, she was to leave and stay in her quarters until Valentina summoned her.

Travis stripped down to his skin and sat down on Valentina’s bed. From the silver box on the night table that Valentina kept filled for him, he took a fragrant cigar and lit it. Next to the silver box was a cut-crystal decanter filled with Kentucky bourbon that was also for him. Valentina drank only French champagne.

Travis poured himself a drink, then sank back onto the soft bed. He knew he’d have to wait at least an hour for Valentina to finish entertaining, but he didn’t mind. He’d enjoy a smoke and a drink and unwind so he’d be completely rested and ready to make love to the beautiful Creole when she arrived.