Outlaw Love

“You’re full up?”

Kelsey pushed her chin a notch higher. “Yes, we are. I couldn’t squeeze another guest in here with a shoehorn.”

Clay rested his forearm on the desk and leaned closer, his voice low and measured. “Look, lady, I’ve had a hell of a day and I need a place to sleep. If I have to, I’ll go from room to room until I find an empty bed, and when I find one—”

“Let me look again.” Kelsey dipped her gaze to the register once more, her mind whirling. He didn’t recognize her. He didn’t connect her with the hanging incident this afternoon. To protest his stay further would only call attention to herself, make him suspicious. She had no choice.

Kelsey forced a bright smile. “Well, what do you know? It seems we do have a vacancy. And it faces the street How about that! Just sign in, please.”

Clay straightened and scrawled his name in the register she pushed toward him. “The livery was supposed to send over my gear.”

On the floor near her feet, Kelsey found saddlebags and a rifle. She hoisted them onto the desk. “A new Winchester rifle? Nice.”

His hand froze on the saddlebag. He eyed her suspiciously. “You know about guns?”

Kelsey swallowed hard. “I told you I had brothers. Remember?”

Warmth spread through him as he recalled the incident in the alley, when her hands had been all over him. “I remember.”

She passed him the key. “Room four. Turn right at the top of the stairs. Good night.” Kelsey forced a smile.

Clay pulled on his Stetson and flung his saddlebags over his shoulder. “Good night.”

He picked up the rifle and climbed the steps. Half-way up, he turned back. “Don’t forget to lock that back door.”

Stunned, she simply nodded, then watched as he dis-appeared up the stairs. Kelsey sagged against the desk. A feeling of foreboding crept over her.

In her heart, she knew it would be a long time before she saw the last of Marshal Clay Chandler.

Chapter Three

The morning chill seeped through Kelsey’s shawl as the sun peeped over the Ozarks, doing little as yet to warm the air. She tugged the thin wrap tighter around her shoulders and pulled back on the lead rope, stopping the mare in front of the livery stable. She’d left the hotel at first light and kept to the back alleys, but still, it was nearly impossible to hide something as big as a horse.

“Good morning?” She peered through the open double doors of the livery. “Mr. Tucker?”

A light brown head of hair popped up from one of the stalls. Deuce smiled when he saw her. “Morning, Miss Kelsey.” He propped his pitchfork against the wall and walked out to meet her.

Deuce stood only a little taller than she, and probably didn’t weigh much more, either—a sharp contrast to his twin brother. It seemed to Kelsey he had always looked as he did right now, frayed collar on a too-large shirt, suspenders trying to hold up trousers Jared had long ago outgrown.

“I didn’t know you were working down here now.”

Deuce shrugged. “Just since yesterday.”

“How are your ma and the girls?” After giving birth to Deuce and his twin brother, the Tuckers had pro-duced five daughters. Kelsey saw them occasionally in town.

“Okay, I reckon.”

“Are you here by yourself this morning?” She needed the mare shod right away, and knew Deuce couldn’t handle it.

“No.” Deuce tilted his head toward the rear of the stable. “Pa and my brother are here.”

Kelsey peered past him, to the back of the darkened barn, and saw Ben and Jared, evenly matched in size and build, having coffee together.

Deuce patted the mare. “Need something this morning?”

Kelsey took in a quick breath and gave him the speech she’d rehearsed. “She lost a shoe—I’ve no idea how—and it’s a bit of a rush. Could your pa see to her right away?”

“What’s the problem?” Ben Tucker walked out of the stable and gave Kelsey a welcoming nod before turning a stern look on Deuce. “You finished cleaning those stalls, boy?”

“No, sir, I just—”

Ben jerked his thumb toward the stable. “I’ll tell you when you can come outside.”

Deuce ducked his head and hurried into the stable.

Kelsey shuddered. She wouldn’t want the wrath of Ben Tucker aimed at her.

“Now, what’s the problem here?”

“No problem,” Kelsey replied. “I’m just in a small hurry. I was hoping you could take care of her first thing.”

Ben ran his hand down the horse’s neck, studying the animal. “I’ll have the boy bring her back when I’m done.”

“Thanks.” With a sigh of relief, Kelsey hurried back to the hotel. Etta Mae would arrive soon, and she didn’t want to explain why she was out so early. She couldn’t be too careful. Not with a federal marshal living under her roof.

Clay bounded up the front steps of the hotel, feeling better than he had in a week, the night in a real bed and the bath he’d just had accounting largely for his good mood. The smell of food reminded him of his gnawing belly, since he’d elected to have a supper of beer at the Watering Hole last night.

In the dining room, morning sunlight filtered through the ruffled curtains, brightening the white linen and silverware laid out on the tables. Every eye in the crowded room turned Clay’s way as he sauntered to a table at the rear and sat down with his back to the wall. He dropped his Stetson in the chair beside him and gazed out the window.

The town appeared prosperous, with a number of shops doing a brisk business already. Wagons, buggies and horses moved along the dirt street. Women with small children, miners, men wearing suits with guns strapped to their thighs all moved along the boardwalk. Eldon seemed like a good town. Clay thought, growing, clean. A place a man could settle in, raise a family in, grown old in.

Annoyed with his thoughts, Clay turned away from the window. He needed a cup of coffee. The door from the kitchen swung open, and the serving girl swept into the room, balancing a tray of steaming food on one hand. It smelled delicious. Then an- other scent tickled his nose, and it took only a second for him to recall it from the night before. His breath caught in his throat as he recognized Kelsey Rodgers under that tray.

She’d seemed bigger last night, when she doused him with water, set his nerves on end mopping his trousers and tried to have him sleep in the street. Now, seeing her in the morning light, he realized she stood just a shave above his elbow. Her features were delicate. She was like a finely crafted china doll, with big, expressive green eyes and light brown hair. She bent to set the plates of food on the table beside him, and he saw the fullness of her breasts pressing against the tiny row of buttons up the front of her soft green dress. Clay’s belly tightened. He hadn’t realized last night how pretty she was, either.

He watched as she turned and her gaze swept the room with a critical eye, then came to rest on him. He saw the sharp intake of her breath, and his belly coiled again.

“Good morning, Marshal.” Kelsey stopped beside his chair and put on a bright smile.

Certain she gave that smile to every diner who took a seat at one of her tables, Clay sat back in his chair and gazed up at her. “Let me guess—the kitchen just closed.”

Her brows drew together. “No.”

“The cook dropped dead?”

She shook her head. “The cook’s fine.”

“You ran out of eggs.”

“No…” Kelsey realized he was teasing her for claiming the hotel was too full to accommodate him last night.

“Out of steak?”

“No.”

“Ham?”

Kelsey looked pointedly at him. “Actually, it seems we have more ham than usual this morning.”

He grinned, and to his surprise, she giggled. It was a sweet, melodious sound.

From her pocket, Kelsey took a small tablet and a nub of a pencil. “What can I get you this morning?”

“’Two of everything.”

She nodded and worked her way back to the kitchen, checking with the other diners as she went. Clay gazed out the window until the scent of Kelsey and the food brought his attention back indoors. Efficiently she placed a heaping plate of steak, eggs, potatoes and biscuits in front of him and poured steaming-hot coffee into his cup. She went about her business, but Clay found his gaze drawn to her as she moved about the room. Lord, she was a pretty little thing.

“Excuse me, young man.”

Clay looked up from his plate to find a tiny gray-haired lady standing over him. “Yes, ma’am?” He moved to rise, but she waved him into his chair with her lace-gloved hand.

“Sit down, sit down. A young man your size needs a good morning meal.” She smiled sweetly at him.

He swiped the napkin across his mouth. “Care to join me?”

She smiled again, her lips drawing into a tight bow, and squeezed her eyes closed for a second. “Why, thank you.”

He’d noticed her when he came in, seated at the other end of the room, having a biscuit and a cup of tea; Clay made it his policy to notice everybody when he walked into a room.

The lady settled into the chair across from him, taking a few minutes to adjust her skirt and shuffle her big, open straw satchel onto her lap. It was crammed full of all sorts of items, Clay noted, as every old lady’s satchel was.

“My name is Miss Matilda Wilder.” She smiled at him and touched her hand to the tiny hat nestled atop her gray head.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I’m—”

She giggled softly and batted her lashes. “Oh, my, dear, I know who you are. Everyone in town knows. You’re the federal marshal sent to root out those awful outlaw gangs.”

Clay sipped at his coffee. “That’s right, Miss Wilder.”

She pulled a large flowered handkerchief from her satchel and waved it at him. “I just want to tell you how happy we are to have you in our town. It’s about time somebody did something to make our streets safe again.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Miss Wilder sat back in her chair and smiled proudly at him, as if he’d just recited a poem at the school play. She dropped her handkerchief on the table. “You’re a fine young man. I know you’ll do a good job.”

Clay couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Miss Wilder drew in a big breath. “Well, I’ll be on my way now. I’m going to write to San ford—he’s my nephew in Memphis—and tell him all about you. He’s been after me to move down with him, and he’ll be pleased to know Eldon has a fine young man like you on the job.”

“Nice meeting you, ma’am.”

Clay rose as she got slowly to her feet, gathered up her handkerchief and stuffed it inside her satchel. She waved and shuffled away. He took his seat again, wondering if everyone in town would be as glad to have him there as Miss Matilda Wilder seemed to be. He’d find out soon enough. A lot of questions needed to be asked in this town, and he intended to start on them this morning.

Absently he reached for the saltshaker as he mentally reviewed the list of things he had planned for today. His hand came up empty, and he looked across the table to see the pepper shaker sitting alone. Clay scratched his chin. He was certain he’d seen the salt there when he sat down.

Clay shrugged and turned back to his breakfast.

Peeping through the swinging door, Kelsey watched as Clay sat back in his chair and started eating again. She hadn’t slept a wink all night, worrying about him in her hotel. She had to find out just how long he’d be in town. She had plans to make—plans that definitely did not include a federal marshal sleeping over her head.

Her best smile in place, Kelsey glided through the restaurant, refilling coffee cups, until she came to Clay’s table. He looked different in the morning sun-tight. Not cast in dim shadows, or ready to be strung up, he appeared strong and sturdy. Handsome.

“More coffee?”

He reached for his cup. The sleeve of his pale blue shirt pulled back, and Kelsey saw the rope burns on his wrists. She fought the overwhelming desire to run her fingers over the injuries and refilled his cup.

“Best meal I’ve had in weeks.” He sipped the coffee.

“The Eldon Hotel has the best cook in town.” Kel-sey shifted. “Etta Mae packs a wonderful cold meal. Could I have her fix something for you today?"He shook his head. “No need.”

“Oh?” She shifted again. “I thought you were leaving.

He lifted one wide shoulder. “No. Not today.”

“Then when?” Kelsey edged closer.

Suspicion crept over his features, and she saw his brows draw together. “In a while.”

Kelsey shrugged. “Just let me know, and I’ll be sure Etta Mae makes something special for you.”

Clay nodded slowly. “I’ll do that.”

Kelsey turned away, then whirled back to face him. “And don’t forget, I want your trousers.”

Heads turned, and she felt questioning gazes upon her. The marshall glanced around, then looked at her; a little grin tugged at his lips.

Kelsey willed herself not to blush. “Since you soiled yourself on hotel property, it’s my responsibility to pay for the cleaning.”

Nosy gazes swung to Clay, and it was all Kelsey could do to contain the smirk that threatened. He surged to his feet and crammed on his Stetson, pulling it low on his forehead. Kelsey’s gaze traveled upward. She didn’t remember him being this tall last night

“I’m flattered by your interest in my trousers, Miss Rodgers. I’ll keep your generous offer in mind.” He gave her a quick nod and left the dining room.

Kelsey plastered a smile on her face and wound her way through the tables and into the kitchen again.

The back door and windows stood open, the fresh air mingling with the smells of frying bacon and baking biscuits. Etta Mae hummed softly to herself as she flipped hotcakes on the stove.

“Kelsey honey, could you get me some more milk? We’ve got a hungry crowd this morning!”

“Yes, we do.” And thank God, Kelsey thought to herself as she placed the coffeepot on the edge of the stove. She wiped her hands on her apron and darted out the back door.

“Pssst!”

Kelsey gasped and spun around, seeing her friend a few feet away. She splayed her hand over her chest. “Mallory, you scared me to death!”

Quickly she glanced up and down the alley. “We’ve got to talk.”

“I’ll say.” Kelsey crossed the boardwalk and stood beside her. Mallory wore a dress of blue silk, with lace gloves and a matching hat—the height of fashion in New York, according to the dressmaker there who’d sent the fabric. Perhaps a bit out of place on the streets of Eldon, had it been worn by anyone but Jack Morgan’s daughter. Mallory wore her father’s wealth well.

Mallory unfurled her fan with a flick of her slender wrist. “Papa sent for the sheriff to come to the house early this morning, and I heard them talking in the study. Papa is fit to be tied over yesterday’s robbery. Fit to be tied!” Mallory giggled and tossed her head“Isn’t it wonderful?”

Kelsey pressed her palms together to stave off their trembling. “Does he have any idea—”

“That we’re the ones robbing his payroll? That you, Holly and I are the Schoolyard Boys—the thieves?”

“We’re not thieves, Mallory.” Kelsey’s expression hardened. “We’re taking back what belongs to us. Jack Morgan stole from us. If he hadn’t interfered in our lives, there would be no need to take his payroll. If we were common thieves, we’d rob a bank or a train somewhere.”

Mallory tossed, her head and giggled. “Anyway, Papa has no idea we’re doing the robberies.”

Kelsey let out a heavy breath. Thoughts of what Jack Morgan had done to her family, and Holly’s, riled her no end. “Then what did he and Sheriff Bottom talk about?”

“Papa is sending the payroll out again this afternoon.”

“Today?” Her eyes rounded. “After it was stolen just yesterday?”

Mallory nodded. “Papa insisted. He thinks the stage won’t be robbed because no one will expect the payroll to be on board so soon after yesterday’s robbery.”

A bold move on Jack Morgan’s part. Kelsey pressed her lips together. And totally unexpected. But she now had this inside information from Mallory.

“We’ve got another problem.” Kelsey pushed a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. “Remember the marshal we rescued yesterday? He’s staying here at the hotel.”

“Damn…” Mallory shook her head. “I told you we should have let him hang.”

Kelsey waved away her comment. “Well, it’s done now, and we’ll have to deal with it.”

Mallory snapped her fan closed. “It must have been him Papa and the sheriff were talking about this morning. He’s some big federal marshal, with quite a reputation. Sheriff says he’s tracked down and brought in dozens of outlaws.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Oh, dear…”

“How long will he be here?”

“I’m trying to find out.”

Mallory shrugged. “Maybe it’s better he’s staying at the hotel. At least that way you can keep an eye on him.”

“That’s true.” Kelsey tapped her finger against her chin and paced the boardwalk. “We’ve got to do it. That payroll is too much money to let slip by. No one will expect another robbery this soon.”

Mallory battsd her lashes. “I’ll pay a call on sweet young Ernie at the express office this morning, as usual.”

“Good. Then drop by Duncan’s and let Holly know—”

“Do I have to go talk to her?” Mailory’s lip crept out in a pout. “You know she grates on my nerves sometimes.”

“I won’t set foot in Duncan’s General Store, not after what Nate Duncan did to my brother. Holly and I can’t speak in public, Mallory, and you know that.”

“Oh, all right.” Mallory fumed silently for a moment.

“Besides, if we get our way, Holly will be long gone from this town, which should make you very happy.”

“Oh, to be gone from this place.” Mallory sighed wistfully, but then her eyes danced with mischief. “But if I were gone, how could I annoy Papa?”

Kelsey drew in a deep breath. She couldn’t blame Mallory for the way she felt about her father or her involvement with the Schoolyard Boys. After the despicable things Morgan had done to her mother, Mallory took great pleasure in irritating Jack Morgan at every turn.

“Find out when the stage is leaving. We’ll stop it at Waterbow Curve.”

“What if the driver won’t stop this time?” Mallory asked. “We almost had to shoot at them yesterday. Remember?”

Kelsey paced, tapping her finger against her chin again. “I’ve got an idea. You’ll need to pick up a few things, then you and Holly get out to Waterbow Curve as quick as you can.”

“Where will you be?”

A little grin tugged at her lips. “I’m going to take a stagecoach ride today.”

Clay hurried out of the hotel and strode down the boardwalk, heat radiating through him. If that woman mentioned his trousers one more time, he wouldn’t be held responsible for what might happen. And the fact that she didn’t understand the effect her comments had on him was all the more maddening. Was she really that innocent? Or did she just think of him the way she would her brother, as she’d claimed in the alley last night? Either way, Clay decided, he’d spent too much time on the trail lately to be having conversations like that.

“Hey, Chandler!” Billy Elder waved to him from the jail. “Sheriff wants to see you.”

Clay crossed the street. Roy Bottom nodded when he entered the jail. “We’ve got a serious problem on our hands with those Schoolyard Boys. We’re recruiting you for the job.”

“Hold on a minute, Sheriff. I’m here on federal business, not local problems.” The Dade gang were his prey, not a bunch of kids who needed a good spanking.

“I don’t give a damn what you’re here for.” Jack Morgan rose from behind the sheriffs desk, his face drawn in tight, angry lines.

“Who the hell are you?”

Sheriff Bottom cleared his. throat. “This is Jack Morgan, one of Eldon’s biggest businessmen.”

“Eldon’s biggest” he corrected. “It was my payroll that got taken when that stage was hit yesterday, Chandler—the fourth robbery in the last six weeks.”

“Darnedest thing,” the sheriff mused. “Every time that stage gets hit, Morgan’s payroll for the mines is on board.”

“I built this town, Chandler. I own it” Morgan curled his hands into fists at his sides. “The governor is a personal friend of mine. I’ve got eastern investors coming out in a few days, men who’ve got a lot of cash to invest and can make something of this town. Sheriff Bottoms here tells me you’re some big-shot marshal. I’m sending my payroll out again today. I want it protected.”

Clay’s back stiffened “What’s that got to do with me?”

Morgan pointed a finger at him. “I want you on that stage this afternoon.”

Chapter Four

Ben Tucker stood at the doorway of the livery when Clay walked up. “Leaving town so soon?”

Clay shook his head. Though he’d like nothing better than to be on Scully Dade’s trail again, he’d gotten roped into riding shotgun for Jack Morgan’s payroll on the afternoon stage, delaying his own work for a while.

“No, Ben. I’ll be staying on here for a few more days.” Clay glanced back into the stable. “Is Deuce around?”

Ben’s brows pulled together. “What’s that boy done now?”

“I need to talk to him.”

“If he’s caused any more trouble, I’ll take a strap to him this time.”

The image Ben’s words conjured up didn’t sit well with Clay. “He didn’t do anything. I’m after the Dade gang, and I think Deuce might have some information on their hideout.”

“That boy,” Ben said, fuming. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. When Miss Chalmers wouldn’t let him come to school anymore, I told his ma she had to keep him busy at home, but she couldn’t do anything with him. I never thought he’d end up in trouble with the law.”

“I think he’s learned his lesson. Besides, working here with you ought to keep him busy enough.”

“Maybe I should have done that from the start. But the boy’s so scrawny. If he hadn’t come into the world at the same time as my Jared, I might have doubted his ma’s virtue.” Ben shook his head. “I guess every litter has a runt.”

“Is it all right if I talk with him?”

“Sure thing, Marshal.” Ben led the way through the stable, past rows of stalls. The horses chewed quietly on grain, occasionally pawing the soft earth or uttering a nicker, content in the barn’s cool interior.

Ben stopped at the open door to the feed room. Barrels and sacks of grain lined one wall. A rickety desk sat against the other; papers peeked from the half-open drawers, and ledgers littered the top.

“Deuce! Get out here, boy!”

A second later, he appeared at the door. Perspiration dampened his forehead, shafts of straw clung to his clothes and stuck out of his hair, dirt smudged his face. His breathing was heavy and labored.

Deuce glanced at Clay, then his father. His eyes widened. “I didn’t do nothing. I swear, Pa, I didn’t.”

“The marshal just wants to talk to you, boy. And as soon as you get done, I want you to take that mare back over to the hotel. Understand? Then come straight back. You’ve got a lot more chores to get done before the afternoon.”

Glay thought the boy might fall over any minute, from fear and exhaustion. “I don’t want to keep Deuce from his chores. I’ll walk along with him while he takes the horse to the hotel and we’ll talk then.”

“All right. But you tell the marshal whatever he wants to know. You hear me, boy?” Ben turned to Clay. “You let me know if he gives you any trouble. I’ll take care of it.”

From the looks of Deuce, Clay doubted he had the strength to give anybody trouble at the moment.

Deuce led the mare from the stall. They walked in silence until they reached Main Street. Clay took the reins and tied the horse off at the hitching post outside Connie’s Cookie Emporium. “I’m pretty thirsty. How about you?”

Deuce wiped his sweaty brow with his sleeve and nodded.

“I’ll be back. You stay put.”