Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

exhausted, Jo closed her eyes. She wished with all her heart that this night had never happened, that she could go back to a day when her husband was alive and there was never anything more distressing in her life other than a damaged corral fence or a few too many chores to complete before breakfast. Those things, those little problems, seemed so insignificant to her now, so easy to mend and put away. Her life had been simple once. There had been nothing to fear.
    Or at least that was what, in all her precious innocence, she had believed.
    “I just want to go home and be with my son,” she said.
    “I understand that, Mrs. O’Malley. I’m…I’m just hoping you can help me out. That gunman broke the law, and with first impressions being what they are, folks are going to think their new marshal is a little soft, and that just ain’t the case. To be frank about it, I got a score to settle here.” He stopped rocking and locked his large hands together. “Besides, Zeb Stone wants the man brought to justice, and I owe it to my sister to see that it happens.”
    Jo’s breath caught in her lungs. “Your sister?”
    “She’s married to Zeb.”
    “Zeb Stone is your…your brother-in-law?”
    He nodded. “That’s right. And besides being family, he’s the one who convinced the town council to hire me. I owe him.”
    Jo could only stare in stunned silence as her enemy’s kin rose from his chair to stand tall before her, his words leaving her whole body chilled to the bone with despair.
    * * *
    Fletcher gazed into Mrs. O’Malley’s wide-open blue eyes and struggled to keep his hopes from sinking. She’d given him nothing that would lead him to the gunman. And now she was obviously going to be ill. “Doc, could you come in here?”
    The doctor hurried in to her bedside. “What’s the problem?”
    Mrs. O’Malley put her hand over her mouth and the doctor saw what was about to happen. He reached for a pan and held it under her chin while she was sick into it. Fletcher stared at his boots, shaking his head with a note of irritation.
    Not so much at Mrs. O’Malley, of course—she couldn’t very well stop herself from being sick after what she’d been through. He’d just hoped for something more to go on.
    “It’s a reaction to the surgery,” Doc said, then turned to Fletcher. “You’ll have to leave. She’s answered enough of your questions.”
    Hearing the doctor’s chilly tone, Fletcher felt a hint of guilt, then backed out of the room. He closed the door behind him and leaned his weary forehead against it. Perhaps he had been too hard on Mrs. O’Malley, but when it came to tracking leads, he found it difficult to see past his own nose.
    Fletcher turned away from the door and took two painful strides down the hall. Suddenly the image of Mrs. O’Malley having a willing “encounter” with a stranger hit him like a brick in the face: Mrs. O’Malley, doing that in the dark of night, out behind Zimmerman’s hardware store?
    Fletcher stiffened uncomfortably. Was it really a stranger? he wondered, finding it almost impossible to believe. Had Mrs. O’Malley sought the man out or was it the other way around? She must have been as hot as a two-dollar pistol to risk such a scandal, especially with what people were saying about her. But why outside by the privy? Why not somewhere more private?
    Fletcher started off again, leaning on his cane, reminding himself that he was an impartial lawman, and what Mrs. O’Malley did with her personal life, no matter how outlandish and risqué, was none of his concern.
    He reached the doctor’s front office and sat on the straight pine bench by the window, pulling the lace curtain aside to peer out into the predawn darkness. Except for a mangy rat terrier sniffing around the water troughs, Front Street was about as quiet as a turkey pen after Thanksgiving.
    The sound of hoofbeats and a jingling harness alerted him to an approaching wagon. He leaned closer to the window as