The Unlikely Groom

“Rumor has it that your brother got himself involved in a card game with one of Soapy Smith’s henchmen. It might have been crooked—hell, it probably was crooked. Doesn’t matter. Ian accused the man of cheating and you know what happened after that. Whichever of Soapy’s men it was, he’s long gone. And even if the shooter comes back to town, it won’t matter. Soapy’s word is law around here, and nobody’s going to take up for a cheechako they can’t remember.”

Undisguised fury fired her blood. “I remember him.”

“Fine.” He answered in a tone angry enough to match hers. “Remember him. Build a shrine to him. Do anything else you want. But for God’s sake, leave the law out of it. You’ll only draw Taylor’s—and Soapy’s—attention to yourself. And that’s the last thing you want to do.”

Chapter Five

S he hadn’t listened to him.

Lucas stalked down the boardwalk that fronted Broadway, ignoring the whispers and sidelong glances. He had neither the patience nor the time for polite chitchat and he wanted everyone to know it. He’d been careful to build his reputation as a man who kept his distance from others, but today that didn’t seem to matter to anyone besides himself.

He’d broken his own rule last night, and that, it seemed, had changed everything. At least as far as his fellow Alaskans were concerned. He’d taken Ashlynne back to the Star after the shooting—rescued her, people were saying. Now they wanted to know why…and what else might have happened after that.

He wasn’t telling anyone a damn thing.

Frowning, he added a steely glare of disapproval to keep the curiosity seekers and gossipmongers from approaching him. There wasn’t anything to tell, except that Ashlynne Mackenzie didn’t drink spirits…and she didn’t listen to advice any better than she held her liquor.

The damn woman had ignored everything he’d said. She hadn’t even pretended to listen. She’d simply settled her cloak around her shoulders, turned her back on him and walked out of the Star without a backward glance.

He hadn’t wondered where she was going. He’d known. She was on her way to see Taylor, no matter what Lucas had said…and he’d meant to let her go. She needed to learn the truth about Soapy Smith’s hold over Skagway. If she had to do it the hard way, then that was a choice she made on her own. Lucas had given her the chance to do things the easy way, and she hadn’t believed him.

He refused to follow her in this folly.

He’d had second thoughts almost immediately—and he’d squashed them down just as quickly. He’d gone about his morning routine, changed his shirt and splashed cold water over his face. Surely that would clear the cobwebs from his cluttered mind.

It had done precisely that…though not in the way he’d meant it to. Thirty minutes later he’d headed out after her—and the second thoughts had returned twofold. This time for far different reasons.

He hadn’t listened to any of them.

Second thoughts weakened a man, crippled him…even killed him. They’d done their best to kill the old Lucas Templeton. In his place, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, another man had come to life. A man who followed his instincts.

Even when he knew he was making probably the biggest mistake of his life?

The biggest mistake of this life, he clarified for himself. He’d made far bigger mistakes in his former life, but they didn’t count for anything anymore. He couldn’t let them.

The life he’d made in Alaska was the only life that counted for anything.

Blinking, Lucas walked away from his maudlin thoughts by stepping down to the icy, half frozen and half muddy, rutted street. He crossed at the intersection and then stepped up onto another section of boardwalk. The walks weren’t particularly well built, but they kept a man’s feet free from the muck and mud and manure created by the steady stream of horses and wagons that churned up the roads, even in the middle of winter.

No matter how far he went, he couldn’t escape himself. And no matter how hard he worked to force it away, there was one question that refused to leave him in peace: why had he listened to the part of him that insisted on going after Ashlynne after she’d walked out?

But he knew. It was that damned sense of decency that he’d thought he’d left behind him eons ago. It had reared its ugly head last night and gotten him into this mess to begin with. Couldn’t a good night’s sleep—or at least a few hours of dozing in a chair—have cleared up that bit of nonsense once and for all?

Apparently not. Lucas couldn’t seem to forget that Ian’s murder changed everything for Ashlynne. She might not understand—or want to acknowledge—the significance of her altered circumstances, but that didn’t change the truth of it any. Her brother’s death put everything at stake for her and in an entirely different way.

If she had grasped that one unchangeable fact, she wouldn’t have marched off to find Deputy Taylor.

Lucas shook his head. Ashlynne had no idea what kind of trouble she would be inviting if she asked the deputy to find Ian’s killer. Justice, vengeance—her reasons didn’t matter. Taylor wouldn’t hear of it, Soapy wouldn’t stand for it…and Lucas couldn’t seem to force himself to let her fend for herself against the others.

The marshal’s office wasn’t far now, but Lucas found he had to look to find it. New structures seemed to spring up in town every day. Some were constructed of lumber, while others were nothing more than canvas tents. Still others were a combination of both. Skagway boasted hotels, restaurants, outfitters, a hardware store and a druggist. There was even a hospital and Reverend Dickey’s Union Church, built last fall.

The sound of voices, one raised in anger, echoed from up ahead of him and a moment later Ashlynne backed out onto the boardwalk. “The proper authorities will hear of my treatment here today, sir. You can be certain of it.” She slammed the door shut behind her.

So he’d been right, Lucas thought as he approached her from behind. Surprisingly, perhaps, he didn’t notice any particular satisfaction within himself at the knowledge.

“You found Deputy Taylor,” he murmured carefully.

Ashlynne went still. Tiny hairs rose on the back of her neck, revealed by the loose upsweep of her hair. Even beneath the protection of her cloak, he could see the way in which she stiffened her shoulders and straightened her spine. Second after second ticked by, until slowly, finally, she turned to face him.

She nodded, though her controlled expression revealed nothing. “Yes, I found him.”

“And?”

She blinked, a slow, calculated movement that recalled nothing of the earlier confused owlishness of a woman who wasn’t quite centered. “And you were right, of course.” She made the admission with some defiance. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He ignored the question. “What did he say?”

“What did you expect he’d say?”

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“He refused to investigate Ian’s death. No one witnessed the shooting itself, according to the deputy, which means that I have nothing but gossip and innuendo to support my claim.”

She shook her head and uttered a brittle laugh that held more pain than amusement. Lucas did his best to ignore both.

“That isn’t all,” she added before he found an appropriate reply. “The deputy is…unhappy that Soapy Smith is so often blamed when things happen in Skagway. He warned me against speaking publicly about Ian’s death. Soapy is an up-standing, law-abiding citizen—” her emphasis on the words seemed to indicate that she quoted Taylor directly “—and he’s been unfairly targeted by jealous, careless stampeders.”

The lawman’s claims sounded no more convincing to Lucas than they had to Ashlynne—but that could have been Lucas’s own fault. He could have easily prejudiced her against Soapy before she’d ever set foot in Taylor’s office. Still, Lucas hadn’t anticipated the deputy’s threat—and he had no illusions about the way in which Taylor had meant his words. And yet, having heard them now, he couldn’t say that he found himself particularly surprised, either.

But what did that mean for Ashlynne?

“I tried to warn you,” he said, feeling no particular satisfaction in reminding her of the fact.

“So you did.” She raised her eyes to meet his. The amber color had darkened to a bruised ebony that couldn’t disguise either her pain or her confusion. “But I just don’t understand, Lucas. Why wouldn’t a man of the law want justice? Didn’t he take an oath to uphold the law?”

The sound of his name on her lips—his given name and not that formal, disapproving Mr. Templeton—took hold of something within Lucas that made his blood run cold. His nerves awakened as though he’d just received an electrical shock, and his body tightened with an overwhelming physical awareness for Ashlynne.

And for the man he had become.

Forget it—and the way you feel. He uttered the chastisement harshly, only just managing to keep it to himself. And forget the oath that you took at one time in your life.

“An oath doesn’t mean a damn thing if you don’t believe in it,” he said ruthlessly.

“You think Deputy Taylor doesn’t believe in the law?”

Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t give a damn. What I do know is that he believes in Soapy Smith and himself more than anything else.”

“But how can he ignore the truth?”