Chapter 43
W
hen Lady stepped with Rafe inside the courtroom, she took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She wore a dark green stylish walking suit with a bustle in back, a hat with feathers over her neat chignon, and white gloves. She intentionally looked every inch the respectable lady. She’d sung for hundreds atop Lookout Point. She’d survived a shoot-out with Zip Rankin. Two powerful men weren’t about to intimidate her.
She was surprised to find the area empty except for Judge Issac Parker and Marshal Thomas Boles. Judge Parker wore a dark suit, tie, and white shirt. He had a full head of hair cut short, with a mustache and long goatee, all turning white. Marshal Boles was a nondescript man wearing a dark gray suit. Both carried a sense of power and determination.
A waist-high dark wood fence blocked off the court from the entry. On the other side, two round wooden pillars rose up to the high ceiling. The walls were painted white with wood trim around doors and windows. The judge sat elevated behind a wide dark wood dais under a wrought iron chandelier with six round globes. Two rectangular tables with matching chairs filled the area directly in front of the judge’s dais.
Marshal Boles rose from a table and motioned them forward. Rafe pulled open the swinging gate, and she preceded him inside.
“Welcome,” Judge Parker said, stepping down. “Please join us.”
Lady sat down with Rafe across from Judge Parker and Marshal Boles. While she remained physically still, her mind whirled with possibilities. The idea of losing her freedom, of being locked up, of being sent away from all she held dear, made her sick to her stomach. Yet she was determined to do whatever it took to clear her name. If she had to pay with jail time for achieving justice, she’d do it. But she figured Zip Rankin and his gang were at fault. Not her.
“Young lady,” Judge Parker said, tapping a forefinger on a wanted poster that lay on the table. “Is this you?”
She felt her heart sink. No way around it. That was Lady Gone Bad’s face on the poster with a long list of misdeeds. “Yes. But none of it’s true. Didn’t Rafe explain?”
“Yes, he did,” Marshal Boles said. “Hard to believe a little lady like you accomplished so much on her own.”
“Rafe . . . Deputy Morgan helped at the end.” They were going to put her in jail, she just knew it. She felt trapped, cornered with no way out.
“Still, your actions are impressive. If true,” Judge Parker said, watching her. “What were your intentions?”
“Justice. As a lady, most doors were closed to me. I found a way to kick them open and find the murderers of my parents. Please understand. If deputies had done their job, I wouldn’t have been obliged to seek justice on my own.” She glanced at Rafe for support, fearing more than anything being separated from him. Her heart might break at the loss.
“Sharlot did what none of us could do. I respect her dedication.” Rafe squeezed her fingers under the table. “She deserves leniency for taking the law into her own hands.”
“She deserves more than that,” Judge Parker said, breaking into a smile. “Miss Eachan, the court is impressed with your motivations and your actions. Not that we normally condone vigilantes. But in this case, you brought to justice four hardened criminals when deputies couldn’t. You deserve our thanks.”
Caught by surprise, she felt her anxiety step down a notch. “Does this mean I’m free?”
“That’s right,” Marshal Boles said. “Judge Parker and I discussed the situation. We see no need for action against you, despite your reputation.”
“I’m so pleased.” She felt like dancing in the court, but remained still, back ramrod straight. She wasn’t out of the woods yet.
Judge Parker nodded. “With limited resources, we can only do so much in Indian Territory.”
“However, you have shown us a way that we can do more,” Marshal Boles added. “With that in mind, we have a proposition for you.”
“What?” Lady asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.
“I recently commissioned Ada Carnutt to arrest forgers,” Marshal Boles said. “She’s the first woman to wear a Deputy U.S. Marshal badge from the Western District of Arkansas.”
“Yes?” Lady tried to figure out what that had to do with her.
“You created the perfect persona to infiltrate outlaw gangs, or draw them to you,” Marshal Boles said.
Understanding dawned. Lady nodded in agreement.
“What do you think about continuing as Lady Gone Bad, but working for us as a special agent on certain assignments?” Marshal Boles asked.
Lady glanced from one man to the other in astonishment.
“You would receive payment for each job,” Judge Parker said.
“She wouldn’t be a deputy marshal?” Rafe asked.
“No,” Marshal Boles said. “She would work directly for me. And if needed, she would work with a deputy.”
“That deputy better be me,” Rafe growled.
Both men looked at him, and then smiled in understanding.
“Miss Eachan, is that the way the wind blows?” Marshal Boles asked.
“Yes. Rafe and I work well together.” She tried to wrap her mind around the offer, but it hardly seemed real.
“Do you accept?” Judge Parker asked.
Lady looked at Rafe. “I like the idea. What do you think?”
“You’re going to keep singing, aren’t you?”
She nodded, seeing the advantages of the concept. She faced the judge and the marshal. “I’m flattered you asked me. I don’t see how I can say no. I want to help others achieve justice, too.”
“Add to your agreement that the only deputy you work with is me.” Rafe squeezed her hand.
“My answer is yes, but I work only with Rafe Morgan.”
“And I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.”
Lady tossed a smile at the judge and marshal. “Not to worry. I’ll protect him.”
“Excellent.” Judge Parker stood, smiling. “I’ll let you settle the details with the Marshal.”
“You both need time to recuperate.” Marshal Boles got up, too. “Let’s discuss this matter further at a later time.”
“Thank you for your confidence in me,” Lady said quietly, thoughtfully.
Rafe rose and pulled out her chair. After she stood, they quickly left the courtroom.
Outside, he clasped her hand, grinning down at her. “I had no idea they would suggest something like that.”
Lady chuckled, squeezing his fingers, feeling almost giddy. “Now you aren’t the only one working for the Western District of Arkansas. I’m so excited! Think how much good I can do for other people.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” She glanced around, looking for the Hayes Brothers. “What’s so great about this is that I’ll still have plenty of time to sing, write new ballads, and entertain folks.”
“And you wouldn’t want to disappoint Burt and Bob. They’re building a whole new business around you.”
“Those two! By now, they’re probably putting together an entire Wild West show. Does your sister play piano?” She chuckled, putting a hand on her hip in mock outrage. “No telling if they’ll remember to come back for us. They were so besotted with the lovely Crystabelle, they may be driving her all the way to McAlester.”
Rafe laughed. “Better set out on our own, hadn’t we?”
She slanted a sultry glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “I wonder if I get my very own handcuffs?”
“If you do, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do with them?”
“Bet you’d like to find out.” She tossed him a look full of mischief.
Chapter 44
R
afe leaned back against the rails of a white wrought iron headboard, hands cushioning his head, long legs stretched out on top of colorful quilts. Life looked pretty good from his second story window of the Riverside Hotel at the confluence of the Arkansas and Poteau rivers. Across the sparkling blue water lay the vibrant green of Indian Territory with Cherokee Nation to the north and Choctaw Nation to the south.
Fort Smith loomed large as a U.S. military and district court center, but also as a gateway to the West. For decades, Americans had come by horse and wagon, by boat from the Mississippi River to the Arkansas River, and more recently by railway trains. Times were changing, speeding up from horse to locomotive. In thirty years, he wondered if he’d recognize the place. He pondered if he’d still be around to make a difference. Shoot-outs like Stone Corral made a man think about his future, about what was important.
He glanced around the room, not fancy but homey. Tall armoire. Marble-topped table with washbowl and pitcher. Rocking chair. Clean, too. He’d stayed there plenty of times, but this time he thought Sharlot deserved better. A woman like her made a man see life different.
Businesses were shifting from the riverfront to Garrison Avenue. A swanky lodging palace was being built by H.T. Main. One hundred and twenty-five rooms, elevators, electric lights, billiard hall, offices, and parlors. Not to mention tiled floors and marble columns.
He could see Sharlot at the Main, enjoying that luxury. He glanced toward the lacquered screen painted in some fancy French scene. He heard the rustle of her changing clothes behind it. She’d said she wanted to slip into something comfortable and surprise him. He had a surprise for her, too. He’d clamped his handcuffs on a rung of the headboard, but left one half dangling.
Life was changing for him. Gone from black and white to gray. Just like Sharlot had told him early on. He rubbed the bandage covering the wound on his side. He’d been damn lucky. But it still hurt, reminding him of his mortality and the shortness of life.
Sharlot’s face might be off a wanted poster, but she was still wanted. Maybe more than ever. The Hayes Brothers were promoting her singing career. The Western District of Arkansas was giving her special assignments. Deputy U.S. Marshal and his sweetheart. One thing for sure, he’d be damned if he was third in line for her favors.
Sharlot stepped from behind the screen in a sheer lilac wrapper, and put a hand on one hip. “Rafe! You’re frowning. Are you in pain?”
Under that little bit of nothing, she wore only a white corset that pushed her breasts up into tantalizing mounds while pointing down to the apex of her thighs covered by lacy muslin drawers.
“First, Burt and Bob. Now Parker and Boles are eatin’ out of your hands. Is no man safe around you?” He sounded cranky and he knew it, but didn’t care.
“Are you jealous?” She walked to the bed, a teasing smile on her lips.
“I’m ready to knock heads together if any one of them gets out of line.”
“You
are
jealous.”
“Just letting you know how things stand.”
She slipped out of her long wrapper, spread her legs, and sat down on him, wiggling her hips to get positioned just right. “Sweetheart, you’re first in my life. Always and forever.”
“Got you where I want you.”
“Think again, Deputy.” She gave him a wicked smile, then reached up and snapped a handcuff on his right wrist. “You’re at my mercy.”
He grinned. “Gonna show me how much you love me?”
Looking him over, she slowly licked her lower lip. “Where to start?” She jerked open his jacket, then ripped open his shirt, scattering buttons everywhere.
He groaned, felt his cock come alive and strain against his trousers. He raised his left hand to pull her close, but his stitches pulled, hurting.
She held his hand, toyed with each finger, kissing, sucking, nibbling, then pressed it back to the bed. “Don’t even think about straining your stitches. I’ll do everything.”
“Sweetheart—”
She stilled him with a fingertip to his lips. She pulled the pins out of her chignon, letting her long hair fall loose around her shoulders like a cloud of spun chocolate. She leaned forward, pressing kisses and nibbles across his chest, teasing his nipples with her fingertips, letting her hair tickle him.
Hard as a rock, he growled, reaching for her again. “Get that corset off.”
She pushed his hand back to the bed. “Mustn’t hurt the doctor’s good work.” She ran a fingertip down his chest and teased his belly button. “I had in mind your trousers. They’re in my way.”
“Take ’em. Take me. Take anything you want.”
“Yes, I’ll take you.”
She jerked off his boots and socks, pulled off his trousers and drawers. Then she stopped and simply feasted her eyes on him.
Made him hot, hard, and hungry, knowing he was giving her a show. “Let me loose and I’ll prove how much I love you.”
“Me first.” She slipped off her drawers and slung them aside, leaving only the corset that pinched her waist, giving her an hourglass figure that begged to be touched, stroked.
“Come here,” he growled, desperate to get his one loose hand on her. His bullet wound hadn’t hurt as much as he was hurting for her now. He hesitated, remembering. “French tips?”
“Not this time.”
She put a knee to either side of his hips, so that his prick just touched her hot wetness. She wiggled slightly, sliding him into her cleft. He put a hand on her hip and tried to push her down so he could sheath himself deep inside. She tugged his hand away, continuing to slide back and forth, growing slicker and slicker, teasing and tormenting.
“When I handcuffed you in the Red River Saloon, did you think about this? Wonder what it’d be like with me?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her agate-colored eyes.
“Yes!” He groaned. “But I wanted
you
handcuffed to my bed.”
She leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to his lips, nibbled, and thrust into his mouth. He caught her tongue, sucked hard, letting her know how much he desired her. She shivered in response.
Raising her head, she looked into his eyes. “Are you ready to love me?”
He grabbed her bare butt with one hand, to hell with pain or stitches, and rammed his cock home, sliding into her heated depths. She rode him hard as he thrust upward, moaning and groaning and writhing until they leaped as one over the edge into glorious ecstasy.
“I guess that’d be yes,” she finally said, catching her breath.
He grinned. “Forever.”
She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, got up, picked up his trousers, found the key to his handcuffs, and came back to bed. “You might need two hands next time around.” She clicked open the lock and set him free.
Rafe sat up in bed, rubbing his wrist, watching her.
She pulled the key out of the lock, and cocked her head. “What’s this?” She slipped a gold ring off the handcuff.
“Thought you might like to make an honest man of me.”
She tossed the handcuffs on the bed. “You’re asking me to marry you?”
“If you don’t say yes, I’ve got other means of persuasion.”
“Like what?” She raised an eyebrow as she held the ring on an outstretched palm.
He jingled the handcuffs.
She chuckled. “In that case, I couldn’t possibly say no.” She slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand.
He snapped a handcuff on her wrist and snapped the other on a rung of the headboard. “Show me how good a lady gone bad can be.”