Chapter 2 #2
A smile snuck onto his face, though he did his best to keep it on a tight rein, doubting his amusement would go over well. Noreen O’Sullivan was wound as tight as the black curls that had sprung free from their pins to dangle about her face in a defiant yet oddly fetching manner.
“You know, I actually agree with much of what you were saying.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You do?”
Before he could answer, lines of suspicion formed between her brows, erasing the momentary vulnerability. “I won’t be placated, Deputy Paxton. And I won’t succumb to your charms, so aim that smile of yours elsewhere.”
She found his smile charming? The notion made his grin grow, no doubt the opposite of what she’d intended.
When her eyes narrowed, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling.
The woman sure was contrary. But James found her fascinating as well.
Hard not to with all that passion and purpose zinging around beneath her surface.
“I’m not placating you, Miss O’Sullivan.
I meant what I said. I’ve seen a lot of senseless damage done by fellas who were too drunk to think straight.
Liquored-up cowboys firing off their weapons and endangering townsfolk, petty arguments turning to fistfights, men taking their anger out on their wives and kids. ”
A slight tightening around her eyes at that last statement supported his hunch. She’d been hurt by someone who drank too much.
“Then why don’t you do more to stop it?” she demanded, her hands emerging from behind her back to gesticulate in the air between them.
“I do what the law allows me to do. I patrol. I anticipate. I step in when I can.”
“That’s not enough!”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. But let me ask you something. How many men did you keep from entering the saloon tonight?”
Her militant shoulders sagged just a hair. “None. But that doesn’t mean my words aren’t planting seeds that will bring about a harvest of change eventually.”
“Anything’s possible, I suppose.” James weighed his next words with extra care. “But it’s difficult for seeds to take root in folks whose hearts are hardened with anger toward the one doin’ the sowing.”
Her thick, dark brows lifted slightly, giving him a peek of that vulnerability he’d spotted earlier, but like before, a glimpse was all he got before she slammed the door.
“You don’t understand.” Her hands waved him off and her feet followed suit, her dark blue skirt snapping in sharp movements as she strode off in a huff.
James fell in beside her, stretching his long-legged stride to keep pace with her shorter, choppy steps.
He didn’t bother saying anything more, figuring she wasn’t up to listening at the moment anyway.
Besides, she was leaving the Salt Fork. That’s what mattered.
And not just because he’d told Taggert he’d take care of the situation.
It was in her best interest, too. The woman had no care for the consequences that could come from riling the wrong fella.
She might be a burr under his saddle, but he didn’t want to see her hurt.
She picked up her pace when they reached the courthouse square, as if she thought she could outdistance him.
James bit back a smile. She’d definitely worked up a full head of steam, but he matched her gait easily enough.
A fact that obviously annoyed her, for she threw on the brakes and spun to face him.
“I am fully capable of seeing myself home, Deputy.”
He nodded. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Good.” She sniffed, then took off at a more normal pace.
He flanked her.
She halted again and glared at him, raising one of those thick eyebrows. “Good night, Deputy.”
He made a show of gazing up at the few stars that were making their presence known in the darkening sky. “Yep. A right fine evening.”
He smiled at her then, and her feathers ruffled so violently he half expected to see her feet leave the ground.
“Perhaps I’ve not made myself clear. I do not need, nor do I wish to be forced to endure, your escort.”
“I’m sorry you find my company so tedious.”
“It’s not that.”
Was that a blush crawling across her cheeks?
She blew out a harried breath. “I promise not to return to the saloon tonight, all right? There. Your duty is dispatched. You can cease trailing me about town as if I were a dangerous criminal. I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”
James shrugged. “Can’t think of any.”
“Oh for pity’s sake.” Noreen O’Sullivan grumbled something under her breath about muleheaded lawmen, then took off like a trotter in a harness race.
James scurried along at her side, allowing several feet of space to separate them so as not to encroach too much on her independence. When she stomped up the steps of her boardinghouse porch, he hung back at street level and watched her grab the knob and yank the door open.
“Good night, Miss Noreen.”
As he’d hoped, she tossed a glare over her shoulder at him. He smiled, grabbed the brim of his hat, and dipped his chin.
She made no comment, just disappeared into the house and closed the door with unladylike force.
James shook his head as his grin stretched wide. The man who hitched his wagon to that spitfire would never be bored, that’s for sure. ’Course he’d have to tame her first. An unlikely prospect when the filly in question would rather trample a man than sacrifice her freedom.
Good thing he was too busy building his credentials as a future sheriff candidate to bother with unbroke fillies, or he might actually be tempted to try his hand at gentling that one.