Whirlwind Groom. Debra Cowan
was still smiling. “Hello.”
“I couldn’t help but notice you over here.” Davis Lee Holt tipped his hat, keeping his tone easy even though his senses were on full alert. That wasn’t due strictly to the petite beauty in front of him. Or the stunning green eyes studying him so warily. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, fine. I’m…new in town.”
He recalled seeing her get off the stage four days ago. He had waited and watched to see what she was up to, but he wasn’t waiting anymore. Last night, Ian McDougal had tried to escape.
The man had tuberculosis. Davis Lee had known of the condition even before Catherine Donnelly, now his cousin-in-law, had been forced several months ago by the oldest McDougal to use her nursing skills to ease Ian’s discomfort. Last night, the outlaw, the only living gang member, had been seized by a coughing fit. When Davis Lee’s sometime-deputy, Cody Tillman, had seen blood and gone inside the cell to help him, McDougal tried to overpower the man. The prisoner was too weak and Cody had subdued him soon enough, but the attempt had immediately made Davis Lee’s thoughts go to the brunette who had started skulking around town four days ago.
He flicked a glance at the swinging doors of Pete Carter’s saloon, which now also served as the stage stop. “Are you waitin’ on Pete?”
“Pete?”
Her accent was thick and honey-sweet. “He owns the saloon. Thought you might have business with him.”
“Lands, no. I’m a dressmaker.”
A dressmaker? That wasn’t in the least threatening, so why were his nerves twanging like new barbed wire? Why was she standing next to the saloon for the fourth day in a row?
He couldn’t ignore the pinch in his gut that told him the woman had some connection to Ian McDougal. His sweetheart maybe? Sister or some other relative? Davis Lee thumbed back his hat and asked pleasantly, “You just passin’ through, or are you thinkin’ about stayin’? Whirlwind could use a dressmaker. We don’t have one right now.”
“I suppose you know everyone in town.” She worried her lower lip.
“Yes, ma’am. And I watch the stage every day so I’ll know who might need a hand. I saw you get off the stage four days ago.”
Her eyes widened and he thought he saw a flicker of concern. Why? Had he interfered with something she planned to do?
“You remember seeing me get off the stage? That’s quite a memory, Sheriff.”
“It’s part of my job.” The fact was a man didn’t forget a face as pretty as hers. Especially a man who’d been made a fool of by a pretty face.
Her figure drew attention, too. She was small and perfectly proportioned. He had always favored a fuller bosom on a woman, but he found himself reconsidering that. Her pale green daydress fit just right, the square-necked bodice smoothing over small, high breasts and sleeking down a taut waist. His palms suddenly itched to touch and he tugged at his hat.
In the two years since he had been run out of Rock River and returned home, Davis Lee had taken to watching every passenger on every stage. He wouldn’t be taken unaware again.
Ever since that unfortunate incident in his last town, Davis Lee erred on the side of caution. He would’ve noticed this woman anyway because of her slender curves and air of confidence, but now he had a reason to keep an eye on her.
Maybe she had come to break McDougal out of jail or to provide a distraction while one of McDougal’s cronies sawed the bars from his cell window and helped him escape.
Davis Lee knew all about distractions, and he wasn’t falling for this one, no matter that she looked sweeter than fresh cream and smelled as tempting as rain. Her skin flushed in a way that made him wonder if she turned that delicious shade of pink all over in the right circumstances.
Annoyed at his line of thinking, he removed his hat and offered his hand. “I’m Davis Lee Holt.”
“Josie. Webster.” Though she accepted his handshake, she seemed to give the information reluctantly.
The name she gave was the same one she used at the Whirlwind Hotel. Davis Lee had already been there and checked the register on the sly so the clerk wouldn’t know. The last thing he needed was Penn Wavers blabbing. The near-deaf man was as big a gossip as any old woman. “You stayin’ at the Whirlwind?”
“For now. I’m thinking about opening a shop, but I heard about the outlaws around here.”
Her lips curved in an innocent, blinding smile and Davis Lee felt like he’d been kicked in the head. He slid his hat back on. “Is your family with you?”
“I’m alone.”
Which told him nothing. Her short, light-colored gloves prevented him from seeing if she wore a wedding ring. Was she married? Did she have children? Usually any small prod for information caused people to talk, especially women. Those who didn’t have anything to hide anyway.
She gave a small curtsy and stepped around him so that she now stood out in the open.
The mid-morning sun brought out a red tint in her brown hair, which she wore pulled away from her face with a ribbon so that the thick wavy mass tumbled down her back. Her velvety-looking skin had a slight golden cast; a bunch of freckles were scattered across the bridge of her nose.
She was the prettiest baggage he’d seen in a good long while. Since Betsy—or whatever her real name was—in Rock River, truth be told. The memory of the woman who’d stolen Davis Lee’s heart and half the townspeople’s money squashed the interest sparked by Josie Webster.
She eyed the street. “I thought I should find out for myself if this town is safe.”
“I take my job very seriously.” He wondered what secrets she hid behind those pretty green eyes, because he was sure she had some. “I can’t provide individual protection for everyone, but my deputy and I do a pretty good job. We had some trouble a while back with the McDougals, but that’s over now.”
Thanks to a U.S. Marshal named Waterson Calhoun, Ian McDougal had been captured near Austin and now sat in jail waiting to get what was coming to him. Since Davis Lee didn’t know if Miz Webster had told the truth about why she was in Whirlwind, he saw no reason to tell her that the sole survivor of the outlaw gang was locked up snug across the street.
“Your…diligence is reassuring,” she said without meeting his gaze. “I do like what I’ve seen of the town so far. If I decide to stay, I’d want to feel safe.”
“We all do, ma’am. Three of the McDougals are dead, but I heard the last one has been locked up somewhere.”
“That makes me feel better.”
He carefully searched her face for some sign that she knew the outlaw, that she had more than a passing interest in the man. “You said you were from Austin?”
“No, Galveston,” she replied easily.
She hadn’t said at all, but Davis Lee knew from the automatic way she’d responded that she was probably telling the truth. He also noticed the irritation that flared in her eyes when she gave the information.
“Thank you, Sheriff. You’ve put my mind at ease.”
Funny, he thought she acted a trifle vexed. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call on me. Like I said, Whirlwind could use a seamstress. Hope you stay.”
She nodded, her gaze flicking past him to the jail for just a moment.
Was she afraid? Or was she trying to figure out how she could get inside to see Ian McDougal? If she were, she’d have to go through Davis Lee first. “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about in Whirlwind.”
“Thank you.” She bid him good day and stepped up on the saloon’s landing, making her way down the walk toward Haskell’s General Store.