The Lawman Takes A Wife. Anne Avery
“You were mad about a lot more than me not bringing that plate back pronto.”
“Oh, dear. I should have known. But then I thought—”
She stopped, blushed.
“You thought…?” Witt prompted, fascinated by the mix of emotions that washed across her face.
She bit her lower lip, shook her head. The color in her cheeks was rapidly changing from rose to scarlet.
She had very kissable lips.
He bent closer. He couldn’t help himself. She drew him like a magnet drew iron. “Yes?”
“I thought you thought I was too…forward. That I was…”
Closer still. “Yes?”
“Chasing you.” The words escaped on a gasp.
Witt’s head spun. Molly Calhan? Chasing him? Him?
He liked the thought. A lot.
The Lawman Takes a Wife
Harlequin Historical #573
Praise for award-winning author
Anne Avery’s recent works
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“Rich in historical detail and lush in characterization…Anne Avery takes her place with the best.”
—Romantic Times Magazine
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“…laugh-out-loud funny and sweetly sensual…if you’re looking for a book to lift your spirits, this is definitely the one!”
—Under the Covers Web site
“Summer Fancy is a funny, engaging, sexy love story…a wonderfully told story to read…anytime you want to fall in love.”
—The Old Book Barn Gazette
#571 THE WIDOW’S LITTLE SECRET
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#572 CELTIC BRIDE
Margo Maguire
#574 LADY POLLY
Nicola Cornick
The Lawman Takes a Wife
Anne Avery
Available from Harlequin Historicals and
ANNE AVERY
The Lawman Takes a Wife #573
This book is for Dame Agatha and Phinneas T. Dogg,
who have stuck by me from the first.
And in loving memory of Osa, the Wonder Bear,
who tended to shed.
Contents
Chapter One
“What’d I tell you? That’s him.”
“You sure?” Bonnie Calhan frowned down at her eight-year-old brother. With the superior perspective of her eleven years, she’d learned to be cautious—even making Dickie cross his heart and hope to die wasn’t always a guarantee you could believe him. Now that he’d grabbed hold of this latest wild notion of his, there was just no telling at all.
Dickie wasn’t paying her any mind, anyway. He was standing on tiptoe, face pressed against the tall, narrow front window of Elk City’s sheriff’s office, straining to see inside.
“Are you sure?” she insisted, poking him to make him listen.
He grudgingly backed away from the window and dusted his hands on the seat of his overalls. “Certain sure. Saw him come in on the train last night. He was carryin’ a rifle an’ a saddle an’ askin’ for the mayor. An’ I heard him sayin’ somethin’ about the sheriff’s office. Honest. Couldn’t be nobody else.”
“Anybody else.”
He shrugged, irritated. “See for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Bonnie eyed him doubtfully, then cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the rain and dirt-blotched window. The effort was wasted. What with the grime, the natural distortions in the crude glass, and the sharp contrast between sunlit street and shadowed interior, she couldn’t see anything except a dark bulk hunched over a desk at the back of the room.
But it was the sheriff’s office, and they’d been expecting the new sheriff for weeks, now. Much as she hated to admit it, Dickie was probably right.
“All right,” she said, reluctantly giving in as she usually did, sooner or later. “But if you’re wrong…”
“I ain’t. You’ll see.”
“Yes, I will. And don’t say ain’t. You know Mother doesn’t like it.”
She tried to take his hand, but he scowled and dodged out of reach. “Don’t you go bossin’ me, Bonnie Mae Calhan! Just ’cause you’re bigger’n me an’—”
“Oh, come on. If we’re going to do this, there’s no sense dawdling.”
His scowl deepened. “You sound just like Mother.” But when Bonnie moved toward the door, he was a half step ahead of her.
Bonnie