After Sundown (29 page)

But he heard a question coming out of his mouth.

“Would you care to dance?”

“I...” She blinked up at him, looking startled. “I-I was just explaining to these two nice gentlemen that I only planned to spend some time with my...”

Before she could finish, he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, away from the two nice gentlemen.

He could feel Annie tense, felt her fingers trembling in his when he drew her toward him and settled his other hand at her waist.

As their bodies touched for the first time in weeks, his pulse was suddenly too loud in his ears. It made a chaotic accompaniment to the slow, sweet music of the fiddle and banjo that filled the air around them. He eased her into the steps of the waltz.

“Thank you, Marshal, for... for letting me come here with my friends tonight.” She seemed a bit breathless, her voice wavering.

Lucas couldn’t summon a reply. He was too aware of her hand resting on his shoulder, the warmth of her palm through his shirt.

“Didn’t see the harm in it,” he managed to say at last, his voice strained even to his own ears.

God help him, for so long he hadn’t let himself touch her. Not like this. Not in a way that reminded him of how silky and warm her skin was. How perfectly she fit against him. How delicate and soft she felt in his arms.

Her lashes dusted her cheeks. “Still, it was kind of you,” she said quietly. “You’ve... you’ve been kind rather often lately.”

The notes of the music, full of the longing and loss of sweethearts parted by war, floated around them.

“Has anyone ever told you that...” She hesitated, still not meeting his gaze. “That despite being impossible most of the time, and tough enough to chew nails and spit tacks, you sometimes have a... rather appealing gentle streak?”

“No,” he replied gruffly.

When she looked up at him again, he could see her eyes sparkle in the glow of the lanterns, in the light reflected from the glittering tin stars and angels. “Well, you do.”

That odd, warm feeling returned, right in the center of his chest.

“What?” Annie asked curiously as he stared at her in silence, his gaze moving over her face, her hair.

“Nothing. It’s... you... look nice.”

A blush colored her cheeks. “Thanks.” For the second time tonight, she smiled at him. Then she shook her head, as if struggling to understand him. “You are full of surprises, Marshal.”

Lucas continued moving her gently around the dance floor in time with the music, not even trying to explain to her what he couldn’t explain to himself. With the slightest pressure of his fingertips at her back, he drew her nearer.

Why shouldn’t he tell her she looked nice? Annie always looked beautiful, whether she was wearing ribbons in her hair or a plain woolen dress...

Or nothing at all.

Suddenly the memories flooded him, the images playing havoc with his heartbeat: the taste of her mouth, their mutual whispers of urgent need, the feel of her slender body arched beneath him, the husky sounds of her pleasure when he thrust deep inside her.

His desire must have shown in his face, because he felt her tremble. They looked into each other’s eyes as the fiddler played a long, tender solo. Her breathing had become shallow, unsteady, the color in her cheeks deepening—and her response to him only intensified the hunger already burning low in his belly.

But when the solo ended, the song ended. Everyone began leaving the dance floor. Lucas remained still for a moment as people milled around them, talking and laughing, seemingly part of some other world.

He
did
want to take Annie out of here right now and escort her back to the jail.

But not to lock her in her cell.

He clenched his jaw and forced himself to let her go, escorting her over to her friends with his hand at her elbow.

“Th-Thank you, Marshal,” Annie said as he released her.

Lucas couldn’t summon a single word, only gave her a curt nod and turned his back, blindly walking away into the crowd.

What was happening to him? What the
hell
was happening to him—to his logic, his reason? His last shred of common sense? He had no business asking her to dance. Wanting her by his side. Wanting her close. Wanting to...

Damn it, he was doing it again. Being impulsive. Irrational. He’d only ended up tormenting himself.

And he wasn’t doing Annie any favors by granting her moments of freedom and happiness, making her think he was gentle and kind. It would only hurt her worse when he took her back to Missouri.

He stalked toward the refreshment table, needing a drink. A scruffy prospector held out a glass of punch and Lucas gulped it down, noticing that it had a stronger kick than he would’ve expected from raspberry punch.

He wondered if O’Donnell had spiked it, almost hoped he had, but he didn’t see the gambler around anywhere.

Lucas was about to head outside for a long, cold walk through the snow when Mrs. Kearney hustled in his direction. She blocked his path.

“Ma’am,” he said warily, draining his glass and setting it aside.

“Marshal.” She sniffed. “Perhaps you could tell me exactly
what
is going on in this town of ours.”

“And by that you mean...?”

She flicked a hand toward Annie. “Is that
woman
a prisoner or is she not? Some folks might not mind the way you’ve been letting her flit around town, but
decent
people—”

“Ma’am.” Lucas gritted his teeth. The last thing he needed right now was Widow Kearney pointing out his duty. He actually started to feel sick to his stomach. “There
is
something in the Constitution about cruel and unusual punishment—and I think keeping her locked in a cell all winter would qualify.”

“Would it indeed? One wonders if you treat
all
prisoners in your custody with such care and concern.
I
for one do not like the idea of that... that...”

“Mrs. Kearney,” he said tightly, “I’d suggest you choose your words carefully.”

“This is a small town, Marshal.” She pursed her lips. “People have been talking. Some have noticed that you spend most of your time in your
prisoner’s
company. Tonight it seems rather obvious that you
enjoy
her company. And with the two of you staying together, alone, over at that hotel—”

“It’s not a hotel, it’s a jail,” Lucas said impatiently. “Complete with bars on the windows, in case nobody noticed—”

“But perhaps you can understand how people have become confused, since you kept her
in
the jail before, and now you simply let her come and go at will—”

“Mrs. Kearney,” he said with all the patience he could muster, “allow me to put your mind at ease. After tonight, my
prisoner
will be living under lock and key for the rest of the winter.”

Without waiting for a reply, he moved past her and stalked through the crowd, muttering a curse.

He had to do it—exactly what he had just said. Clearly he couldn’t trust himself around Annie anymore. No other woman had ever made him
feel
like this. Like he’d been hit by a runaway train.

It was the only way. He would lock her back in her cell and keep her there. All winter. Put Travis in charge of her. Move out of the damned jail and find somewhere else to stay until spring. Somewhere as far away from her as he could get.

He headed for the door, hoping a breath of the cold air would clear his head. She was going to hate him, but that didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. He had to stop caring about—

Caring.

No, that was the wrong word. He didn’t care for her. What he felt for Annie was just desire. And a need to protect her. It mattered to him what happened to her. And he hated how he felt when he made her cry. But he didn’t...

He couldn’t...

As he stepped outside into the cold night, Lucas suddenly felt like he was viewing the whole world in one of those wavy mirrors at the circus. Like he had nothing solid to hold on to.

The sick feeling in his stomach started getting worse.

He almost ran right into Holt, who had just ridden up. “McKenna.” The doctor knotted his horse’s reins around the hitching rail out front. “Calling it a night a little early? Without your coat?”

“Just catching a breath of air.” Lucas grabbed on to the railing to steady himself. “Where you been?”

“Treating a patient.”

A noise from one of the sleighs a few yards down made them both glance that way.

There was a feminine squeal followed by a male voice saying “Shhh,” and then O’Donnell’s tousled blond head appeared over the edge of the seat. “Evenin’, Daniel—aw, hell.”

A woman popped up behind him, despite his apparent efforts to keep her hidden. Her light brown hair was in disarray, her blouse unbuttoned. As soon as she saw their audience, she covered herself up with a nervous gasp and scrambled out the other side of the sleigh, hurrying away into the darkness.

“For God’s sake, Morgan.” Holt gestured toward the grange hall. “There are families with children not ten feet away.”

O’Donnell climbed out of the sleigh and came toward them, a bottle of liquor in one hand. “
I
am a disreputable scoundrel,” he declared with a bow. “Ask anyone.” He looked in the direction the girl had departed. “
Damn
. Why did you two have to go and scare her off like that?”

“God Almighty,” Lucas said in disgust, “do you possess
one
shred of decency?”

“Listen to you.” O’Donnell turned on him. “Saints preserve us, you’re a fine one to be giving out lessons on decency, Marshal.”

Lucas came away from the hitching rail. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, Mr. Holier-Than-Thou, that you once said any man worth a bucket of warm spit does right by a woman, so maybe you’d like to tell me what you’re giving Miss Sutton in exchange for her—”

“You finish that sentence”—Lucas’s hand closed on the butt of his Colt—“you better have more than a flask hidden in that vest of yours.”

The gambler moved toward him. “I have never backed down from a duel, sir.” He drew a .22 from inside his coat.

“You call that a gun?” Lucas said derisively.

Holt stepped between them. “Listen, you two—”

“Stay out of this, Daniel,” O’Donnell snapped. “I’m tired of everyone in town acting like
I’m
a contemptible cur for sharing the pleasure of a lady’s company—when it’s pretty damn clear
something’s
going on at that ‘jail’ of his between him and Miss Sutton.”

Lucas drew his gun with a curse. He was breathing hard, the sick feeling in his stomach turning painful.

“Stop it,” Holt said angrily, turning from Lucas to O’Donnell with a look of disbelief. “Morgan, you have
no
idea how ridiculous that is. And do you have
any
idea what a .45 cartridge does to the human body? Even if McKenna’s feeling generous and just nicks you, it could take your arm off. Try to imagine how hard it would be to earn your living one-handed.”

“Good advice,” Lucas snarled.

“Yeah?” Holt shifted an annoyed glare to him. “Well, I once treated a man who got shot with a .22. Bullet hit him in the side and ended up in his neck—after it turned his guts to mush.”

“Stay out of this, Doc.”

“Just offering some free medical advice.” Holt remained between them, glaring from one to the other. “I’m also thinking about
me
. I have better things to do than spend the rest of the night digging lead out of either one of you!”

Lucas was still breathing hard. A dizzying buzz filled his head.

And the night suddenly turned a strange silvery-gray. He bent forward, doubled over by the pain in his stomach.

Holt spun toward him. His voice seemed to come from a distance. “McKenna? You all right?”

Lucas barely managed to choke out a one-word reply.

“No.”

A
s dawn broke through the windows, Annie couldn’t stop walking back and forth across the front room of the jail, still wearing the green skirt, white blouse, and boots she’d been wearing at the dance. She straightened a pillow on the settee. Carried more empty cups and saucers to the kitchen. She felt like she was going crazy, had to
do
something.

Daniel had told her to try and get some rest, but she hadn’t been able to sit still for five minutes, much less sleep. When she glanced down the darkened hall again, she saw the light still glowing under Lucas’s door.

Daniel had stayed by his side all night, promising to come and tell her the minute there was any change.

If
there was any change.

She picked up another teacup, but then sank down at the table, covering her face with one hand. The red and green ribbons in her hair tangled around her fingers. It felt as if the whole world had spun to a halt in that moment when Mr. O’Donnell came running into the grange hall to tell her something had happened to Marshal McKenna.

Stunned, she had rushed outside and found Lucas lying in the snow, Daniel working over him frantically. At first she thought he’d been shot, but Daniel said that he’d taken sick all of a sudden, that he was unconscious.

When they couldn’t revive him, they had brought Lucas back here, followed by her friends and Travis and at least a dozen townsfolk, who had stayed for hours, milling around and waiting for news. Finally, she had sent them all home with a promise to send word in the morning.

She closed her eyes, her throat feeling dry and tight. Lucas probably didn’t even realize how much folks in Eminence liked him, how they had gotten used to his strong, steady presence among them. Everyone had come to admire his firmness and fairness, whether dealing with rowdy miners disturbing the peace or young boys getting into mischief.

Lucas McKenna had proven himself the sort of man people could depend on in any kind of trouble.

But it would probably come as a surprise to him that the people in town cared what happened to him.

That she...

Annie fought a tear that threatened to slide down her cheek, unwilling to finish that thought. She had vowed to guard her heart. Be sensible. Stop dreaming.

But that had become awfully difficult lately, with all the kindnesses Lucas had shown her.

He had tried to act as if none of it really meant anything, but she knew better.

She knew how devoted he was to his duty, how difficult it was for him to budge even an inch. Yet he’d allowed her friends to visit for tea and cards and knitting, allowed her go to the dance tonight. His every small gesture meant a great deal to her—because each reminded her that he
was
capable of compassion and gentleness... and showed that her feelings
did
matter to him.

And tonight, when he had danced with her, his touch had ignited a storm of other memories: his hands strong and yet tender as he touched her, the look in his eyes soft and yet full of fire.

Annie buried her face in the crook of her arm. She didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to let herself believe that she mattered to him. Couldn’t risk being hurt again.

Yet even as she tried to tell herself that she musn’t open her heart, she kept offering prayers and promises to God that if He would just—

“Annie?” It was Daniel’s voice, tired and strained, coming from the end of the hall.

Startled, Annie knocked the teacup aside with a clatter as she straightened. “Is he... oh, no, Daniel, is he—”

“He’s awake now.” Daniel looked exhausted, his gray eyes bleary, his hair disheveled as if he’d been raking his hands through it. “I think he’s going to be fine.”

Annie closed her eyes for a second, unable to speak, offering silent words of gratitude before she rose and hurried toward Lucas’s room.

Inside, the marshal lay in the middle of his brass bed, under a pile of covers. His skin was pale, even a bit green. But his eyes were open.

Lucas was very much alive.

Annie sank onto a chair beside the bed, relief flooding through her.

“Where... am I?” His voice was a raspy whisper.

“Your room at the jail,” Daniel told him. “Do you remember what happened tonight?”

“Hurt like hell.” Lucas closed his eyes again.

 “Daniel, what was it?” Annie finally managed to ask, her voice shaking. “What happened to him?”

“McKenna, did you eat or drink anything at the dance?” Daniel picked up his open medical bag from the floor and set it on the foot of the bed.

“Punch,” Lucas croaked, making a face.

“That must’ve been how they did it.” Daniel nodded. “Would’ve been fairly easy, actually.”

“Did what?” Annie asked worriedly.

After taking out his stethoscope, Daniel leaned over his patient. “You have pain in your throat, McKenna? Feels like it’s burning? And probably tingling in your hands and feet?”

Lucas nodded, his brow furrowed.

Daniel remained silent a moment, looking thoughtful as he listened to Lucas’s heartbeat, then checked his pulse. “Severe gastric distress, dizziness, clammy skin, numbness in the extremities. And burning esophageal pain...” He paused, taking off his stethoscope as he straightened. “Arsenic.”

Annie gasped. “Someone tried to
poison
him?”

Lucas choked out a curse.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” Daniel said. “Thought it could’ve been something you ate, McKenna, but no one else at the dance took sick. My next guess was a bad appendix, but you would’ve had a fever. The way you went down so fast, then lost consciousness, and your pulse kept dropping...” He put his stethoscope away in his bag. “Made me guess poison. Just wasn’t sure what kind.”

“But now you’re sure?” Lucas asked, looking like he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open.

Daniel nodded. “Arsenic causes progressive circulatory failure, though it’s usually a slow killer. If it had been done right, you would’ve died in your sleep last night and we might never have known why. Would’ve been hard to prove what had happened to you.”

Annie shuddered at that thought. “But why did it affect him so fast?”

“Whoever spiked his drink must have given him too much,” Daniel replied. “Probably thought it would take a lot to kill a tough hombre like our famous Marshal McKenna here.”

“Lucky for me,” Lucas whispered, closing his eyes again, “you were so quick on the draw with that damned... stick.”

“Tongue-depressor,” Daniel corrected lightly. “Sorry about that.” He shifted his attention to Annie. “Soon as I suspected poison,” he explained, “I knew I had to get him to empty his stomach and quick.”

Annie winced. That sounded awful. But apparently Daniel’s fast thinking had saved Lucas’s life.

“For once, Doc,” Lucas said grudgingly, “I’m glad you were around.”

“Happy to oblige.” Daniel chuckled as he shut his medical bag and rolled down his sleeves, buttoning them at the cuffs. “Question in my mind is
who
did this.” He arched one brow. “I hope you’re not thinking of your
usual
suspect, Marshal.”

Lucas frowned up at him. “If you had wanted to do me in, Holt, you’ve had plenty of chances before this.”

“And I wouldn’t have come to your rescue,” Daniel pointed out dryly. “But someone in this town wanted you dead—and I’d say they put quite a bit of thought and planning into it.”

Annie looked up at her friend. “But everyone in town seems to admire him so much—”

“Maybe not everyone. My guess is somebody got a little nervous having a lawman around.” Daniel held her gaze. “Maybe somebody with a secret they’d rather keep.”

She nodded in understanding, remembering what he and Rebecca and Mrs. Owens had revealed to her weeks ago about some of the townsfolk .

Lucas blinked up at them, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “I’m not following.”

“Well, see... it’s like this,” Daniel said hesitantly. “Some folks who’ve decided to stick around Eminence aren’t here because they’re hoping to find silver. They’re... let’s just say, they’re here for reasons of their own.”

Lucas looked drowsy and confused. “Huh?”

With a wry expression, Daniel picked up his medical bag. “I think you’d better get some rest, Marshal. Maybe we’ll explain it to you later. Chances are, whoever did this vamoosed and decided to lay low as soon as he saw his plan went wrong. But just in case, I’ll have a few friends keep an eye on your place here while you’re recovering.” Daniel picked up his rumpled wool coat from the back of a chair. “Be sure to give me a yell next time you need someone to break up a duel.”

“Duel?” Annie asked. “What duel?”

Lucas grimaced. “Never mind.”

“Why would Daniel need to...
you
were going to duel with someone?” She stared at Lucas in surprise. “I thought you were supposed to be
keeping
the peace around here, Marshal, not breaking it.”

Daniel pulled on his coat, a grin curving his mouth. “Go easy on him, Annie,” he admonished lightly. “The menfolk in town have been having a tough winter.”

She glanced from one of them to the other with a frown. Daniel and Lucas exchanged a silent look of understanding that puzzled her.

“I’ll leave you in Annie’s care for now,” Daniel told him, his voice becoming more serious. “But I’ll check back tomorrow.” As he glanced toward the morning sun spilling through the room’s only window, he winced, rubbing at his bearded face. “Or rather, later
today
.” Covering a yawn, he turned to go.

“Holt.”

Daniel paused in the doorway, glanced back toward his patient. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

The doctor nodded. “Consider us even, McKenna. You’re not the only one in the business of saving lives, remember?”

Annie rose and followed Daniel down the hotel corridor. “Daniel, wait. Do you have any instructions for me? Is there anything I need to do to help him?”

“I think you’ll do just fine, Annie.” Daniel turned toward her. “Just make sure he stays put and keeps warm. And give him plenty to drink—tea, water. Oh, and milk. Some of the farmers keep cows through the winter to have milk for their little ones. I’ll have some sent over to you. He may not like it much, but it’ll help.”

“So he’ll... he’ll be all right?”

“A week or so of rest and he’ll be ornery as ever.” He paused, looking at her curiously. “Are
you
going to be all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said a little too quickly. “I’m... just fine.”

“Annie...” Daniel’s voice became quiet. “We haven’t talked about it lately, but I assume our plan is still in place.” His gaze shifted from her to Lucas’s room at the far end of the corridor and back again. “Unless... something’s changed?”

Annie glanced down, hoping he couldn’t see the color in her cheeks in the darkened hallway. Was it so obvious that her feelings for the marshal weren’t the same as they had once been?

She hadn’t thought about the escape plan in a long time—not since her experience with the bounty hunter. Not after getting a taste of what it would be like to live on the run, hunted by men who would kill her without a second thought. Always looking over her shoulder, hiding, lying to everyone she met. Feeling afraid.

And alone.

She shook her head wearily. “Daniel, I’m so tired, I-I can’t even think right now.”

“You get some rest.” Daniel laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “There’s a long time yet until spring. When you want to talk, I’ll be here.” He turned to go. “Always.”

“Thank you.” Annie watched him leave, grateful for his loyalty and understanding. Never in her whole life had she expected to have such good friends.

She certainly never would’ve expected to find them here, in a half-deserted mining town in a remote corner of the Rocky Mountains.

But soon she would have to leave Eminence, leave all her friends behind. Whether it was to spend her life on the run... or in a Missouri prison.

Annie forced the thought away, walking back to Lucas’s room, wanting to reassure herself that he was all right.

He was still there, still quite alive.

And he still had that baffled look on his face. “What did Holt mean, ‘they’re here for reasons of their own’?”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” she admonished, looking around. She hadn’t even set foot in here before today. Lucas’s room was spartan, almost empty: just a bed, a chair, a sheet tacked up at the window for a curtain. No rug on the unfinished wood floor. No dresser for his belongings.

Just his saddlebags in one corner, which probably contained all his worldly possessions. She noticed he kept them near the door. Maybe out of habit. As if he always wanted to be ready to move on at a moment’s notice.

“How’m I supposed to sleep?” he grumbled. “Tell me what he meant.”

Annie sighed, recognizing one of his stubborn moods when she heard it, yet not sure how much she should reveal.

She walked to the window, pulling the makeshift curtain aside to look out at the sun and snow.

“What he meant...” she said slowly, “is that some people in Eminence aren’t here because they’re hoping to find silver. They’re here because they’re hoping nobody will find
them
.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Because they have... somewhat shady pasts. A few of them are in hiding.”