Debra Cowan - Whirlwind Groom

“I haven’t heard yet. All of their telegraph wires are down.”

Which happened in almost every hurricane. Josie frowned. “So how did you know about the storm?”

“Some folks from Houston spread the word. The sheriff there sent a wire to several counties to the north and west.”

“Oh.” Josie decided she should keep her mouth shut. Davis Lee wiring the Galveston County sheriff was something she hadn’t considered. The very real possibility that he might ask Sheriff Locke about her made her squirm in the saddle.

About ten minutes later, Davis Lee urged his buckskin mare off the wagon-rutted road and into the prairie’s short grass. Josie followed, reining up a good distance from the road when he did.

She dismounted, noticing a small stone in a cleared patch of ground just on the other side of her horse. A clump of blue wild verbena grew at the stone’s base.

“The McDougals killed our stage driver here,” Davis Lee said when his gaze followed hers to the stone. “You met his wife yesterday. Cora Wilkes?”

“Yes.” Josie stared at the small memorial the woman had erected, pain flooding her at the similar losses she had suffered. She struggled to keep her face blank as rage grew. How many people would McDougal kill before he was stopped?

“That gang also nearly killed my sister-in-law as well as Catherine Donnelly.”

Shocked, Josie spun.

“They nearly ran Susannah to ground with their horses and they kidnapped Catherine.” Davis Lee’s eyes glinted dangerously. “My cousin is a Texas Ranger who’d been chasing the McDougals for almost two years. The two of us, along with my brother, Riley, and my deputy took care of three of them in a shoot-out several months back. Ian managed to escape, but he’s in jail now. He’ll pay for what he’s done.”

Recognizing the same stern determination in Davis Lee’s voice that she often felt, she edged closer to him.

His gaze locked onto hers. “They killed Jericho’s friend, another Ranger and nearly did Jericho in, too. If it hadn’t been for Catherine’s nursing skills, he would’ve died.”

Images of her parents’ and William’s bodies burned in her mind. “You’re lucky they didn’t kill him.”

The keen interest sharpening his blue gaze made her suddenly nervous and she blurted out, “What about your parents? Did the McDougals…?”

She fervently hoped not.

“No, they passed away without any help from those polecats.”

Josie nodded.

“The rest of my family is in Whirlwind. You met my brother yesterday. And my sister-in-law and niece.”

“Lorelai. What an angel,” she said with a soft smile.

“Yes. And Jericho plans to put down roots here with Catherine after their wedding.” Davis Lee walked through the short prairie grass and stopped several yards away. As he lifted, moved and stacked a few flat rocks, the tin cans in his burlap bag clanged. “What about your family? Who did you leave behind in Galveston?”

“No one. Have you always lived here?”

“Except for a couple of years I spent up in the Panhandle.” Curiosity darkened his eyes as he approached with the now-empty bag. “I was the sheriff in Rock River.”

Just because he blabbed on about his past didn’t mean she would. Her hair was pulled back with a ribbon and she brought a thick skein over her shoulder to twist around her finger. “Did you always want to be a sheriff?”

His eyes narrowed at her nervous gesture. “As far back as I can remember.”

“Your brother didn’t?”

He shrugged. “Riley would rather be with the horses. And, as our pa used to say, I’d rather be with the horses’ ass—back ends.”

She smiled, her gaze going to the six tin cans perched on mounds of rocks.

“My grandpa was Whirlwind’s first sheriff. I wanted to continue the tradition.”

“Have the sheriffs of Whirlwind always been Holts?”

“No. For a dozen or so years there was another man here, a good man. When he decided to move farther west, I applied for the job.”

Davis Lee had to have noticed her reluctance to talk about her family and the less-than-graceful way she changed the subject. He said nothing yet Josie felt uneasily as if she were being sized up.

Dropping the empty bag to the ground, Davis Lee slid a revolver from the small of his back. His own remained in the holster strapped low on his hips. Keeping the barrel pointed at the ground, he handed her the gun. “This Colt may be a little heavy for you. It’s a .45 caliber. What do you think?”

She awkwardly balanced the weapon on her hand, surprised at its weight. “I guess I’ll get used to it.”

“If you decide to buy one, I can help you. Smith & Wesson makes a .32 caliber that might fit your hand better. They call it a pocket revolver.”

She nodded, clasping the butt in both hands and raising it to eye level.

Davis Lee reached out and gently pushed the barrel down so that it was directed at the ground. “Don’t point that thing unless you’re ready to use it. That’s rule number one.”

“All right.” She was going to learn to shoot really well. Ian McDougal would never have her at a disadvantage again.

Davis Lee moved up beside her, his shoulder barely brushing hers. “Stand with your feet a comfortable distance apart and aim at one of those cans.”

“Don’t I need to learn how to load it?”

“I want you to get the feel of it first. I don’t fancy losing a toe or something more vital if you squeeze that trigger before either one of us is ready.”

She glanced at him, noting that the level at which she held the weapon was about the same as his private parts. The realization had heat burning her cheeks. For Davis Lee to lose any part of his lean muscled anatomy would be a real shame. He was one handsome man.

Josie forced her attention back to what he was saying.

“Just practice aiming for a bit.”

She lifted the gun, her gaze following the line of the barrel.

He tapped the small piece of raised metal at the barrel’s tip. “You can use the sight if you want, but that one is a little off. I learned how to shoot by aiming the gun as if it were my finger. You try it.”

She did. “That feels more natural than trying to line up the sight. Can you shoot faster using this method, too?”

He flicked his gaze over her. “How fast do you need to shoot?”

“Just asking.” If she were forced to shoot McDougal rather than cut him, she meant to fire as many times as necessary.

The thought of cold-bloodedly killing the outlaw just as he had killed her parents and William bothered her, but she refused to be swayed.

“I’ll show you how to load it now.” Davis Lee reached over and put his hand on top of hers.

She stiffened, her hand twitching beneath his. Her gaze flew to his face and she saw that his attention wasn’t on the gun, but on her breasts.

“Pardon me, Sheriff,” she said archly.

“Davis Lee.” A wicked grin spread slowly across his face as he held up his hands in mock surrender, his gaze dipping again to her chest. “You’re not gonna pull that blade on me, are you?”

“Are you going to give me a reason?” Her heartbeat kicked wildly against her ribs and she found she couldn’t look away from the heat of his blue gaze.

“I plan to tell you what I’m doing every step of the way. Don’t want to spook you and end up begging for mercy.”

She didn’t want to find his grin so charming. Or him either for that matter. She turned her attention back to the weapon. “Bullets?”

“Yessirree.” He slid six from his gun belt and dropped them into her waiting hand.

Again he covered her hand with his, this time pushing against a rounded part of the gun right above the trigger. A cylinder popped out, revealing six empty slots.