The Gunslinger's Untamed Bride

On the second block the wide doors to Jonas’s blacksmith shop were shut tight, a sight he’d never seen before in the middle of the afternoon. A nagging chill wormed up his spine. More than likely, Jonas’s last clients had been a band of timbermen needing help with a locked box.

“On my flank,” he repeated, Lily and Reginald falling out of his peripheral vision. Both closed in.

Juniper wasn’t pleased to see the sheriff’s office locked up, shutters drawn. He wondered if his deputy had caught wind of the trouble or was off on other business.

Reaching the center of town, he slowed. He glanced past Lily’s mount and honed his gaze on the small white house located on the edge of town.

“Mr. Barns, would—”

“Pipe down,” he said offhandedly, cutting off Lily’s question as his gaze swept the yard and nearby fields of tall grasses. He didn’t see any sign of visitors outside Widow Donnelly’s home, but that didn’t mean they weren’t lurking about.

He continued toward the livery.

Residents who were usually quick to greet him peered through windows. Those who’d ventured out onto the boardwalks ducked back inside as he approached. He stopped in front of the large stable.

“This is a livery,” Lily said from beside him.

Her pristine pronunciation coupled with the bafflement buried in her crisp tone brought a grin to Juniper’s lips. “Sure is. Our horses are done for today. We’ll need fresh mounts.” He swung out of his saddle and began to quickly remove the pack of leftover supplies from his trip into the high country.

“Should I presume we are about to embark on another of your brilliant schemes?”

A quick side glance at her pursed expression told him to focus on removing his saddle if he wanted to keep a hold on his temper. He usually had the patience of a priest, yet one look at Lily’s cold stare and slender, arching eyebrow snapped at his nerves.

It’s your guilty conscience, he told himself, knowing he’d made a rash mistake sending her down the mountain in the wagon the way he had.

“I would think you’d have apprehended half the town by now, being so quick to use handcuffs and handkerchiefs with me.”

“Give the sheriff a break, Lily,” Reginald said in a dull tone. “He did rescue you.”

Lily dismounted and turned her sour expression toward her cousin, her hands fisted against the alluring curve of her hips. “From the situation he put me in!”

Juniper quickly averted his gaze from her shapely body, telling himself he’d liked her far better while she’d been unconscious.

She needs to get off my mountain.

“An honest mistake by the sound of it,” said Reginald. “Though I can’t imagine how you’d neglect to inform him you own the lumber camp.”

“Hush,” Juniper ordered, glancing around for anyone within earshot as he moved in close between them. “Do you two still not get it?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “The name Carrington has brought these people nothing but further hardship.”

“But I—”

“I know,” he cut in. “You’re here to set things right. Until you do, I suggest you keep your lips pinched tight. Am I under stood?”

Lily drew herself up, making the most of barely five feet—hardly a sign of compliance.

“We are due a briefing, Mr. Barns, as I’ve found your judgment to be severely lacking thus far.”

“Sheriff Barns.” Frank stood at the open end of the barn, his thumbs hooked behind his suspenders.

“Afternoon, Frank,” Juniper said, walking past Lily. “Our horses need a cool down, and I’ll be needing three fresh mounts. Or have you been cleaned out?”

“Figured you’d be coming down the mountain like a flash of lighting,” he said, sounding surprisingly chipper. “I’ve got a few left. Saved the best of my stock for you.”

“I am obliged. They all rode out, then?”

“A dozen mares rode out in two directions nearly twenty minutes ago.”

“Can you name the riders?”

Frank’s gaze skated past them. Juniper glanced over his shoulder and noted the growing number of townsfolk making their way back out onto the boardwalk to have a look at their visitors.

“I’d rather not,” he said.

Juniper gave a nod, figuring he’d bide his time. “Think I’ll stop in and see Emma.”

“That’s a real fine idea,” Frank agreed, telling Juniper that Calvin had indeed gone to see his sister, Widow Donnelly.

“I appreciate your cooperation, Frank.”

Cooperation? Lily gaped up at the supposed sheriff, unable to believe he’d forgo further questioning simply because the man preferred not to answer. Mr. Dobbs had been killed. Juniper should be demanding answers!

“Where’s Deputy Griggs?” he asked.

“He rode out this morning,” said Frank, his gaze moving slowly over Lily. “Said he’d received a wire from a U.S. marshal looking to bring in that highwayman who robbed the stage last month.”

“Let’s hope this marshal can stick around,” said Juniper. “This is Miss Palmer and her cousin Reginald.”

“Good day,” greeted Reginald.

Lily simply stared up at Juniper, his choice of title having caught her off guard. It had been years since anyone had referred to her as Miss Palmer.

“Miss Palmer,” said Frank, “I sure hope they didn’t hurt you none.”

Realizing Frank was staring at her dress, she glanced down and was reminded of her tattered state. “I appreciate your concern.”

Juniper’s long arm curved around her shoulders. “She’s a little the worse for wear, but otherwise fine. We’ll be back shortly for those horses.” He wheeled her around, giving her no choice but to follow his lead or be muscled off the ground.

“I’ll wait here,” Reginald offered, slumping onto a crate outside the wide double doors of the stable. He swabbed a silk handkerchief over his sweaty brow.

Juniper glanced back at Frank and tipped his head toward Reginald, as though silently asking the livery man to keep an eye on him. Frank gave a nod before Juniper started down the street, his hold on her shoulders forcing her to keep up with his long strides.

“Mr. Barns—”

“Sheriff Barns,” he corrected, the irritation in his gaze suggesting he’d noticed her refusal to use the title. As far as she was concerned, he was no longer the sheriff of Pine Ridge.

“I’d like to know how you intend to catch up with those men much less recover my cash box when you allow your questions to go unanswered.”

“All in good time,” he said, an easy grin sliding across his lips.