Heart Of A Lawman

As Barton stepped closer to the bed, his foot connected with the dropped magazine. It went scooting across the floor with a noisy flutter of pages. He bent over to retrieve it, and when he straightened, gaze connecting with the cover, his expression changed slightly.

He rolled the magazine and tapped it against his free hand as he moved even closer so he could stare directly down at his father. “I thought you were dying.”

“Thought…or wished?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sounds like,” Emmett grumbled. He couldn’t remember the last time soft words had passed between them.

“Your legal eagle Howard Stiles said your health was preventing you from running the ranch,” his son persisted. “And that you had a limited time left.”

Maybe Barton did want him dead, Emmett thought with growing sadness. Then he and his brothers could have the ranch like he had promised…without the old man who’d made it what it once was…and who had obviously made them so miserable they refused to be around him unless there was something financial in it for them.

Had he been such a terrible parent?

Not wanting to think too hard on it, he muttered, “Seventy is a step closer to God than you are.”

“You can’t ever know about that for certain.”

From the quick flash of pain crossing Barton’s features, Emmett figured his son was thinking about the way his wife had been taken…and her barely half his own advanced age. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.

“I’m sorry about Sara, son,” Emmett said with a stiff sincerity he didn’t often share. “I would’ve been at the funeral if I could’ve.”

“You were sick that far back?” His son’s gaze narrowed on him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

Big troubles on the Curly-Q had kept Emmett from the funeral in Albuquerque, but again he hedged. “What? You think a heart gives out…” He snapped his fingers. “…just like that?” He’d kept the problems from his boys—figured they wouldn’t willingly walk into a viper’s pit—but they’d get the picture soon enough.

“No, of course not.” But Barton’s expression didn’t grow any less suspicious.

“A man starts realizing he can’t do what he used to, that he doesn’t have the physical stamina he once had, and he figures the years are catching up to him, is all. But one day, he realizes that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Emmett said ruefully. “That he’s in serious trouble…trouble that he can’t fix by himself…”

“Pa, exactly how long have you been failing?”

“Long enough I don’t want to talk about it…if you don’t mind.”

Though Emmett could tell the boy did mind, he had the grace to back off. At least for now. Emmett figured it was a temporary reprieve, that Barton was merely holding his questions for later.

BART UNROLLED Pa’s Modern Rancher Magazine and stared at the cover. Sick the old man might be, but he hadn’t lost his interest in the thing he loved best—his spread. Not wanting that to be an insurmountable problem between them, he figured he’d better nip any problems in the bud right away.

“Listen, Pa, before I get the kids all settled in here for good, we gotta get something straight between us.”

“What would that be?”

Locking his gaze with his father’s in a no-nonsense way, he said, “That, from now on, I’m in charge.”

In a too-obvious attempt to sidestep the issue, Emmett said, “Reed and Chance always looked up to you. They won’t give you any trouble.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about.”

Shifting under his son’s stare, Emmett coughed again, this time with more intensity. Bart tried not to let his father’s illness get to him. He had to be tough as nails or this wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t let Pa call the shots here. And it was in his nature to be suspicious of anything that seemed too good to be true.

Emmett said, “The fate of both the Curly-Q and Silver Springs rests on your shoulders, son.”

“Silver Springs? Whoa! Stiles didn’t say anything about that, Pa.” Barton threw the magazine onto the nightstand that his father had built with his own two hands. “It’s not part of the deal.”

“The deal is to get the Curly-Q back on its feet and keep it that way. A healthy Silver Springs will be good for the ranch and vice-versa, especially since half of the property there is tied up in the family corporation papers. A town needs law and order, and you’re the only one with any experience in that area.”

“We’re talking about a ghost town, Pa!”

“One that never should’ve gone the way it did,” Emmett muttered. “It was a stagecoach stop on the Santa Fe Trail, for pity’s sake! We can’t abandon a piece of living history! If not for poor planning—”

“Try a changed economy!” Bart cut in. “A mine that closed down when it played out! A railroad that stopped running through the damn place!”

“But Tucker and me were men of vision,” Emmett insisted, “even if Noah couldn’t hack it,” he said of a third partner who Bart had never met. “We should’ve found a way through the setbacks. Tucker might’ve given up and moved over to Taos, but not me. I’ve just been waiting for my chance…uh, a chance for us all, that is. I say it’s not too late if the Quarrels men all pull together.”

Bart realized he’d been right. Even serious illness hadn’t dampened his father’s will. Pa was making plans like there was no tomorrow.

“Pa, you’re stuck in some damn dream. When I was a kid, it was already too late! We’ll be lucky if we can hang onto the Curly-Q and a way of life that’s mostly gone now.”

But his father had never been able to accept defeat when he took a notion. “More’n one way to skin a cat,” Emmett grumbled. “It seems tourists like visiting Silver Springs. Tourists have money burning holes in their pockets. And some people actually have been moving in, trying to make a go of it. Population in the town proper is more’n seventy now…give or take a body.”

“Seventy? And you think I should—what?”

“You’re a lawman! Do what a lawman is supposed to do. Protect its citizens. Turn Silver Springs into a shiny town that’ll attract new families. Grow it back to what it once was, for God’s sake!”

Good Lord, the old man was deluded!

“I turned in my badge, Pa. I gave up work I loved to run this ranch, remember?”

Emmett slid his eyes away. “Yeah, yeah, I remember. But part of you will always be a lawman, badge or no badge. Can’t take that out of a man. Besides, I figure you’re gonna have lots of help around here, so you can whip Silver Springs back into shape in your spare time.”

As much as the idea appealed to him, Bart recognized a pipe dream when he heard one.

“This ranch will take every drop of sweat I’ve got. Reed’ll put his back into the place, but he’s not a leader. As for Chance, he’s not much of a worker, as I recall.” Suspicions rising once more, Bart narrowed his gaze and glared at his father. “Unless you mean something else.”

Emmett said, “All I meant is if you three boys all pull together, you can do anything.” He put his hand to his chest and sighed. “Arguing knocks the stuffing outta me these days. I need my rest now.”

Exasperated, Bart backed off. “All right. We can finish this later.”

“Since you have time on your hands,” Emmett suggested, “why don’t you check on Silver Springs this afternoon personally and see what you think.”

“Already did that. Wasn’t impressed.”

“Then look up Alcina Dale and hear what she has to say. Might change your mind.”

“Alcina?” Barton appeared surprised. “Haven’t seen her in nearly twenty years.”

“That girl restored the old family home on her own,” Emmett said, “turned that spook place into one of them fancy bed-and-breakfasts that tourists like so much.”

“Bed-and-breakfast?” Bart echoed. He’d seen the place, all prettied up, on his way through town. “Not the Springs Bed-and-Breakfast?”

“How many do you think a town like Silver Springs could handle? Of course that’s the one!”

Mulling over that information, Bart said, “Hmm, maybe she does know something I don’t. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything to talk to her.”

“Good. You could do worse than a beautiful, smart, ambitious woman—even if Alcina is that reprobate Tucker’s daughter.”

“Pa, whoa.”

Was Pa now trying to manage his love life? Bart wondered, not exactly ready for one, even though Sara had been dead long enough that he missed a woman’s company. But his family took up all the emotion he had in him.

His family…that included his father.

“Pa,” Bart said, a knot of worry making him ask, “you are okay, aren’t you?”

Emmett stared at a crack in the adobe wall that needed fixing. “As well as can be expected.”

Bart swallowed hard. “Can I tell the kids they’ll get to see you at the supper table?”

“If I’m up to it. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner in this house.”

“I’ll let you get your rest, then,” Bart said, opening the door. “And, Pa…”

“Yeah, son?”

Bart shifted his piercing gaze from his father’s face to the foot of the bed. “You might be more comfortable resting…without your boots.”

Chapter Three

Bart Quarrels was the last person Josie expected to find planted on the front porch of the bed-and-breakfast when she opened the door later that afternoon. But there he was, bigger than life, all but blocking out what was left of the waning sun.

“You!” she said.

“You!” he echoed. “Long time, huh?”

To be truthful, he didn’t seem at all surprised. And why should he, Josie thought—she’d told him where she was staying, so he’d known exactly where to find her.

“It’s been all of several hours,” she muttered.

Her mind raced as fast as her pulse. What was he doing there? What did he want? The way his gaze seemed to pierce right through her…Her stomach churned, leaving a faint taste of acid in her mouth. Somehow, she convinced herself to calm down as a simple reason for his seeking her out occurred to her.

Her knuckles white on the door where she clung to it, she said hopefully, “So you what…played detective and tracked down Miss Kitty’s owner?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m here on another matter altogether.” But before she could panic, he added, “Could you tell Alcina I’m here?”

“Oh.” Then this didn’t have anything to do with her, after all. Feeling foolish, Josie took a deep breath. “She’s not here at the moment. She headed over to the store.”

Alcina had decided to do the shopping herself, especially since getting supplies for the cat—including litter—meant taking the car.

“I can wait,” Bart said.

While Josie wished she could find some excuse to refuse him, Alcina undoubtedly wouldn’t like that.

“Well, c’mon in, then.”

She backed off and gave him extra room to enter. But Bart Quarrels didn’t have to touch her to make her aware of him. All he had to do was show up, Josie thought, not liking the uncomfortable fact one little bit. And when he removed his Stetson, she liked her reaction even less. Had to clench her jaw to keep from gaping.

The man was more ruggedly attractive than she’d realized, if that was possible. Thick, nearly black hair spilled over a high forehead. And while she’d noticed the blue of his eyes before—how could she not when they’d seemed determined to split her in two and reveal all her secrets—she’d missed just how thick and long his eyelashes were.

Realizing she was staring and that, if his raised eyebrows were any indication, he was reading her mind, Josie felt heat creep up her neck.

“Uh, you can have a seat here in the front parlor, if you like,” she said far too breathlessly. She wanted to kick herself. Really. Closing the door, she shouldered past him where he’d stopped as if to block her. “I need to get back to the kitchen.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll keep you company.”

She did mind. Wishing she could ditch him, a self-conscious Josie led the way. She wasn’t comfortable with Bart following her…sizing her up…drawing whatever conclusions that were whirling around in that hard head of his. She distrusted the too-easy connection she felt between them. Had to keep in mind why she was there.

Above all, had to protect herself.

Once in the kitchen, she took up where she’d left off applying lemon oil to the unstained pine cabinets that gave the already large room an airy feel she enjoyed, while Bart made himself comfortable on a nearby stool.

Alcina had merely asked her to tidy up and wipe down the tile counters and appliances—all of which had already been spotless. Josie wasn’t about to be a charity case. She meant to earn her keep as she’d promised until she could find a paying job. And Alcina really could use her help to make the house shine—doing more than the necessities around a place this big was too much for one person.

His back to the breakfast bar, Bart watched her work. “So the cat is still here?” He was looking around as if searching for her.

“Until Alcina comes back with a pan and litter, Miss Kitty is restricted to the outside. I put her in the former chicken coop to give her lots of room. And boundaries. I wouldn’t want her to wander off.”

“She seemed too smart for that. I’d bet she knows a good deal when she lands in one.”

“She did get some tuna for lunch,” Josie admitted. “Alcina has a real soft heart for strays.” Including herself, she thought thankfully.

“Actually, I was talking about you. That cat took to you as if you wore her brand.”

Josie chuckled. “Yeah, she is a friendly little thing. Real sweet, too. You can’t touch her without setting off her motor. And she makes these funny sounds as if she’s talking to me.”

“Odd that someone threw away such a nice cat.”

A fact that had been bothering her. Why would anyone ditch a sweetheart of a pet? About to apply more lemon oil, she paused as the threatening sounds the cat had made in the abandoned building echoed in her head.

“Especially without letting her out of the carrier,” Bart continued, distracting her from that line of thought. “Poor thing could have starved to death unless the owner meant to come back for her.”

That gave Josie pause. “Oh, no. What if the owner does come back for her and she’s not there? Maybe I ought to put up a sign….”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

“Unless it wasn’t the owner, at all,” she added, her mind churning with the possibilities. “Maybe someone was playing a mean trick. There are some real nasty people in this world. They take pleasure in causing heartache and pain.”

Something she knew deep in her soul.

“And then there are people like you,” Bart said in a smooth, low voice that made the hair on the backs of her arms crackle. “So, Josie Wales, how long have you been lost?”

She whipped around to face him. “Lost?”

“Here. In Silver Springs.”

What a weird way to put it, though. “Not long,” she hedged, wondering if this was idle curiosity or if he had a deeper motive for wanting to know.

“And you hail from?”

“Not around here.”

“So…will someone be looking for you to bring you home?”

“No one owns another human being!” she snapped, heart pounding with the possible implications.

Bart fell silent at her overreaction, but Josie felt his unspoken questions all the same. They were there in the way he looked at her, as if she were a puzzle he was trying to put together.

Finally, he said, “I just meant your family might be missing you some.”

“I don’t have family.”

The words blurted out of her mouth before Josie even knew she would say them. They came to her quickly and naturally…a truth that inexplicably saddened her.

“You mean a young thing like you is all alone in this world?”

“Thirty-two is not all that young,” she informed him.

Again, speaking without thinking, Josie realized, a little startled by the way she automatically responded to Bart’s baiting. She was getting that feeling again—the one that put up her back at what on the surface were innocent questions, when they weren’t anything of the kind.

He was digging, but for what? Had he even come here to see Alcina, or had that been a convenient story?

Having finished applying the lemon oil, she took a clean, soft cloth and, starting with the end of the kitchen as far as she could get from him, began rubbing the film of lubricant into the wood.

And all the while, she was aware of Bart Quarrels watching her…wondering…making her want to run and hide from him.

“So how do you know Alcina?” he asked next.

“I don’t. I just have a room here.”

“That why you’re cleaning the kitchen?”

“Right.” She concentrated on the next cabinet. “For the time being, I’m working for her.” Then, tired of the cat-and-mouse game, she set down the rag and faced him directly. “How many more questions are you planning to ask me, anyway?”

They stared at each other and she could almost see the little wheels spinning in his head. His eyes narrowed and his features drew into a bemused expression. Before he could come up with an answer, however, the door off the mudroom swung open.

“I’m back!” Alcina called.

Reprieve!

Without a by-your-leave, a relieved Josie turned her back on Bart and hurried out of the kitchen. Instant relief the moment she left his presence!

“Here, Alcina, let me take those. You have a…uh, gentleman caller.”

“Really.” Alcina’s pale eyebrows shot upward. She turned over the sacks of groceries, saying, “Then I guess you’ll have to wait for the cat litter.”

“If it’s still in the trunk, I can get it.”

“It’s awfully heavy—”

“I can get it,” Josie firmly repeated.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Alcina handed over the keys, then stepped into the kitchen where she made a sound of pure pleasure. “Bart? Is that really you, Barton Quarrels?”

“In the flesh.”

Josie couldn’t help but follow. She stepped back inside just as Alcina rushed over and gave the man a warm hug. Inexplicably bothered by the way he responded, with a quick grin and arms snaking around the other woman’s waist, Josie whomped the sacks of groceries to the counter and swept back outside to get the litter.

The moment she stepped onto the back stoop, Miss Kitty rushed to her chicken-wire fence several yards away and protested the recent inattention.

“It won’t be long now,” Josie promised, stooping to stick her fingers through the wires and scratch a kitty ear. “Though you can’t have the run of the house. Just the mudroom and the ironing room. We’ll have to share that. But don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty of attention. You can even sleep with me if you want.”

She thought she’d like that—having the cat’s warm little body to cling to throughout the night. She took comfort in the thought that she wouldn’t have to be alone, at least not for now.

Unbidden came another image of her with a much larger, human companion, limbs tangled together…

Shivering she opened the trunk. The twenty-five-pound bag of litter inside would last one little cat a month.

“Alcina must expect you to be around for a while, Miss Kitty.”

Which made her feel a bit better about the situation, just in case she wasn’t able to find the cat’s real owner right away.

Still hurting, she carefully hefted the large bag of litter. A familiar weight, she thought, handling it easily once she straightened. It was mostly her side that bothered her when she lifted anything more than a few pounds. But she certainly wasn’t helpless. Closing the trunk, Josie thought about putting up some Found Cat signs around town. She could make a bunch that night, then tomorrow morning do double duty. Post signs and look for a job. If that suited Alcina, of course.

Josie stepped back into the mudroom, expecting to hear Alcina and Bart in the kitchen talking together like…what? Old friends? Lovers?

Why the second possibility should bother her, she couldn’t imagine.

Thinking she would remain in Silver Springs only long enough to get some folding money in her pocket and an idea of just how far it would take her, she muttered under her breath, “Makes no never mind to me.”

Not that there was anyone to hear. The kitchen was empty.

Good. She didn’t need any complications. Had no use for them. Especially not when a certain complication seemed bent on knowing more about her than she did about herself.

Even so, she was a bit disappointed to find that Alcina had moved her “gentleman caller” to the parlor. She could hear their laughter ring out from the other room.

She couldn’t help herself. After fixing up the litter pan in the mudroom, she moved to the door that led to the dining room, which led to the parlor. Holding her breath, she leaned into the wooden panel ever so slightly—cracking it open just enough to get an earful.

“So what do you know about her?” Bart was asking.

“Just that she needed a roof over her head.”

Good Lord, they were discussing her. Maybe she had been the reason he’d invaded Alcina’s home.

“Are you always so blindly trusting?”

A beat of silence was followed by Alcina’s asking, “Do you know something I should, Deputy Quarrels?”

Pulse thundering, Josie backed off into the kitchen as he said, “It’s just that I’d keep my eyes wide open if I were you.”

Deputy!

So Bart Quarrels was the law…she’d been right, then. But he obviously didn’t know about her or he wouldn’t be sniffing around, asking all these questions. If he had facts, he would have arrested her by now. Obviously he had his suspicions. Instinct made her want to run again.

But run to where?

She had no one to run to…no place to go…no money to get her there.

And why should she leave this safe haven? Bart didn’t know anything for sure. What she needed to do was to find a way to defuse him.

Clenching her jaw, Josie started unloading the supplies. She was in the middle of trying to figure out how exactly to do that when the kitchen door swung open.

“Josie, would you mind making some tea? Earl Grey, I think. And you’d better brew it strong. I can’t imagine Bart drinking it any other way.”

“Sure, Alcina,” she said, thinking she couldn’t imagine Deputy Quarrels liking tea at all. She figured the lawman would consider it a sissy drink. Then, again, perhaps he’d take anything Alcina cared to offer.

“And afterward, could you check on the Raton Room—that’s one of those two smaller guest rooms in back that has the shared bath.”

“I remember.”

Josie had noted that Alcina named all her rooms—two suites, two rooms with private baths and two with shared bath—after New Mexican towns. The fancier the room, the fancier the town it was named after.

“Could you air out the room, maybe fluff up the pillows and lay out a set of fresh towels?”

“Yeah, sure. I didn’t realize you were expecting another guest.”

“I wasn’t. I met him at the gas station, actually. Tim Harrigan’s his name. A stroke of luck that he was looking for a place to stay for a few days and I just happened to have a room available.”

More than one, Josie knew. Only two couples were currently staying at the bed-and-breakfast, and one of them was checking out the next morning.

“I’ll take care of everything, Alcina.”

“Thanks.”

When Alcina went back to the parlor, Josie realized their conversation had given her adrenaline a rest. She felt far more relaxed than she had a few minutes before. Filling the kettle gave her additional breathing room. She needed time to think was all…on how to allay Bart’s suspicion of her before he stumbled onto the truth.

She could lie outright, of course. Tell him what he wanted to hear. Feed him false information. If she could get away with lying without revealing her hand. The only problem was that Josie suspected she was far better at evasion than lies, and she didn’t seem to be doing too well in that direction to begin with.

The only option left to her was to charm the boots off the man. Maybe if she could loosen up…act more naturally around him…stop acting like someone had stuck a prickly pear under her saddle.