Chapter Three
“You can’t arrest me!” Mary cried.
Her heart was thumping so hard it felt as if it might explode right out of her chest. Conflicting emotions flooded her mind. On one hand, she’d been saved. There was little doubt those three bounty hunters wanted to do awful things to her! They might have taken her in and handed her over to authorities, but not before they had their perverse fun.
On the other hand, she’d been rescued but by a clearly tough and capable lawman who had actual authority! Talk about bad luck!
He also happened to be the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His mere presence had an intoxicating effect on her, and she was struggling to hold it at bay. She needed to keep a clear head and not be ruled by emotions if she wanted to get out of this situation. She’d never willingly let go of her freedom.
“I can arrest you and I’m going to,” the lawman said. “We’re not going to argue about this, either.”
“But you want to take me to Judge Parker! He’ll hang me!”
The lawman shook his head. “He’s not going to hang you.”
“He’s the hanging judge! That’s what they call him. Haven’t you heard?”
“I’m well aware of the judge’s reputation, but what you’re accused of isn’t even a hanging offense. You’ll have your day in court. Come on. Let’s get on the road.”
The bartender cleared his throat. “What about these three?”
She watched as the lawman cast daggers toward the proprietor.
“That’s your problem. And I have no respect for a man who’d just stand idly by and let a woman be abused.”
Mary turned slightly, eager to see the bartender’s reaction. As she expected, he bristled in anger. He was clearly humiliated.
“I told them to take it outside! I run a clean place.”
She looked back at the lawman and saw him shaking his head slightly. “Turning a blind eye isn’t the same as stopping it.”
“Damnit! What was I supposed to do against three?” the barkeep barked.
“Sometimes a man has to step up, even when the odds are stacked against him.” The Deputy Marshal looked at Mary. “Come on. Let’s go.”
That’s when an idea struck her. “I’m coming. John, right?”
He cleared his throat. “You can call me Deputy Hardin.”
“Yes, sir,” she told him, playing along. “I’ll go. And I won’t cause any trouble.”
He nodded. “This will go a lot easier if you don’t. Come on.”
Trying to seem as demure as possible, Mary daintily stepped over the men who were sprawled on the floor. Grunts and moans told her that even the one who’d been knocked out was coming back around. She wanted to be well clear of them when they did, though she didn’t think they’d try anything with a lawman around.
Especially one as tough as John Hardin seemed to be.
“Thank you so much for saving me!” she said, making sure her voice sounded as sweet as possible.
She knew how to play men. She’d done it before. This marshal guy wouldn’t be any different from all the others.
Well, he was a little different in that he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on! But beyond that, he’d have the same weak spots they all did. She’d be free of him in no time at all.
With that in mind, when her back was to him as she went out the door, she quickly flicked her finger across the top button of her dress, deftly popping it open. Now, good ol’ John Hardin should be able to see a hint of her breasts. That would certainly distract him.
He was a man. None of them could stand up against such a force. Show them just a hint of skin and their imaginations took over, causing them to essentially act like knuckle-dragging neanderthals.
She kept walking as she heard the door close behind her, followed by footsteps that told her John was following her.
“Don’t get too far ahead.”
She rolled her eyes but stopped and spun around, wearing a mask of obedience now. She had a part to play, after all.
“Yes, sir. I’ll do whatever you say.” She let her small coin purse fall from her fingertips. “Oh my.” She bent down slowly to retrieve it, making sure he had a good view down the top of her dress.
She wasn’t for certain he was taking the bait, as she didn’t want to be obvious and look up at him, but he most likely was.
He was a man.
If she really wanted to end this quickly and get away from him, she could just whip them out right now, shove them in his face, and let him get a feel. He’d basically be drunk at that point.
But she needed to proceed at a more measured pace. At least get away from those three disgusting bounty hunters before she ran. If she fled now, she might just wind back up in their clutches.
“Where are your bags?” John demanded to know.
“I don’t have any.”
“Nothing?”
“No.”
He grunted. “Traveling light as you make a run for it. Typical.”
What he didn’t know was that she’d lost her change of clothes and what few meager possessions she had when she’d fled in the night after a local sheriff tried arresting her. There hadn’t been time to grab a thing! She was lucky she even had that little purse. At least it gave her some traveling money.
She kept all that information to herself, though. John didn’t need to know everything.
“You have a horse?” he asked.
“No, sir,” she said, grabbing the purse and standing up straight.
“How’d you get here?”
“A farmer found me walking and was kind enough to let me ride along in his wagon.”
That much was true. The farmer just hadn’t known she was on the lam, of course.
“I didn’t see a farmer in there.” He jerked his head toward the stage station.
He was standing sideways, where he could keep an eye on the door and her, probably worried those men would come out wanting revenge. And also worried that she’d try to escape.
Great. He probably didn’t even notice me showing off my assets.
She made a mental note to increase her efforts.
“He just dropped me off and kept going,” she said. “He was on his way to Doaksville.”
She stood there as he studied her.
“I have no reason to lie about that,” she added. “If I had a horse, would I be waiting on the stage?”
He nodded. “You might have stolen one to ride here. But I’m more worried about making sure…” He shook his head. “Never mind. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
She suppressed a smile, loving the fact that she was getting under his skin. Was he also flustered because of the small amount of flesh she was showing? In her experience, it only took that small amount to accomplish most missions.
A thought occurred to her, though, and she said, “You’re wondering if I traveled here alone. You want to make sure I don’t have a partner hiding out somewhere.”
He nodded. “The thought crossed my mind. I don’t want someone lurking in the trees, ready to clout me over the head. Or someone riding our back trail, waiting for the right time to ambush me and spring you.”
“You don’t trust me.” She wasn’t asking a question. For some reason, the realization that he was skeptical hurt her feelings, though she didn’t understand why she’d feel that way.
Being cautious made perfect sense in his line of work. John Hardin did a dangerous job and was probably used to outlaws and assorted ruffians trying to kill him. But the fact that he’d lumped her in with those sorts of people stung.
Of course he thinks you’d do something like that! He thinks you’re an awful person, Mary. He only knows the lies he’s been told.
A sense of sadness washed over her. When she made her move to escape, she’d just reinforce those lies. There wasn’t anything she could do about that, though. Going back to Fort Smith to face the Hanging Judge was absolutely out of the question.
Anyway, it shouldn’t matter what he thought of her, she reminded herself. She’d never see him again after she broke free. He was just one stop along her journey.
One handsome, sexy, glorious-to-look-at stop.
But he was also irrelevant. Months from now, she most likely wouldn’t even remember him.
“You are my prisoner, ma’am,” he said, further reaffirming his notions of her.
At least he was being polite about it, she thought. Many men out there on the frontier, when they’d discovered she was unmarried, not a mother, and that she even knew outlaws, considered her as nothing but a whore and treated her as such.
John Hardin at least seemed different in that regard.
Yet she couldn’t help but wish he thought of her as something more than a prisoner.
Mary told herself once again to let go of such silly ideas. She had a job to do, and that job was escaping and getting clear of Indian Territory and staying away from Forth Smith and anywhere that someone might recognize her!
Not knowing what else to say, she told him, “There’s no one else. I’m all by myself. And I don’t have a horse.” She held up her arms. “What you see is all there is.”
For the briefest of moments, an expression flashed across his face that suggested he liked what he saw. That might just be wishful thinking, she realized. Anyway, if the look had been there, it disappeared as quickly as it had come on.
“Lucky for you I have a pack horse you can ride,” he said. “Come on. Let’s put some distance between us and those fellers in the stage station.”
“You think they’ll come after us?” The alarm in her voice wasn’t for show. She was terrified at the thought of falling into the bounty hunters’ clutches.
“Could,” John replied. “They’re hard men. The type who don’t like being made fools of, and I reckon that’s what I did to them.” He wore a cocky grin for just a moment, hinting at a little of his real personality behind that stoic, lawman persona. “And there’s a pretty girl involved.”
She loved that he thought of her as pretty, but she tried not to show it.
“Men will often make fools of themselves when a pretty girl is involved,” he continued with a shake of his head.
I know, she thought silently.
That’s what I’m counting on.