Patricia Rosemoor: Heart Of A Lawman

He moved closer to her, and his aura of power threatened to smother her. Normally she didn’t put credence to that sort of thing, but when her pulse lurched, Josie took a step back. Then she winced when the cat carrier smacked into a sore spot. A sudden acid taste in her mouth soured her mood further. If anyone had meant her harm in there, this man couldn’t have been the one, she assured herself, or he wouldn’t be asking so many questions.

Realizing that she probably had been alone, that she had spooked herself, and that her imagination had conjured some other “presence,” that, sensing her fear, the cat had appropriately responded to, Josie couldn’t figure out why this stranger had such a suffocating effect on her.

What in the world was wrong with her?

“I told you I heard the cat,” she finally said to break his invisible grip.

“And so you just went inside…”

“Right.”

“…and wandered around a decaying building blindly.”

“Why should I explain myself to you, anyhow?”

She tried pushing by him, but he caught her upper arm and held her fast. And though he didn’t hurt her, his fingers seemed to burn into her flesh right through the denim jacket. Her heart at first fluttered, then began to pound.

“We’re not done here.”

She went still and cold inside, and with difficulty, choked out, “What are you? A cop or something?”

The thought made her fight panic once more, if for a very different reason. What if there was a warrant for her arrest? What if he really had been searching for her?

His “Not exactly” didn’t exactly relieve her building anxiety.

“Then you won’t mind if I get going.” Pointedly, she stared at his hand on her arm until he let go. Her tense stomach relaxed and she trembled with relief.

“Where to?”

“Home.”

“You live in Silver Springs?”

Of course he would know everyone who lived in a town this small. “Well, I do for the moment…over at the Springs Bed-and-Breakfast.”

He seemed to digest that before musing, “The bed-and-breakfast, huh? Then what about the cat?”

Josie stared at him stupidly for a moment before it dawned on her. “Oh, right.”

She couldn’t just surprise the woman who’d been good enough to give her shelter with another mouth to feed…possibly an unappreciated mouth. Besides, the cat probably had an owner somewhere looking for her.

She raised the carrier and stared at the little white face edged by soft gray ears and a gray chin. Almond-shaped blue eyes stared back at her trustingly.

Josie asked, “You don’t happen to recognize her, do you?”

“Her?”

“The cat. Just a guess about the ‘her’ part,” she added hurriedly.

“Afraid not.”

“Maybe she knows how to get herself home.”

Not knowing what else to do, Josie set down the carrier and opened the door, all the while praying the owner would be glad to see the animal. Heaven forbid some irresponsible person had been trying to get rid of a pet…exactly what she feared, considering the circumstances.

But when the cat stepped out of her cage, she didn’t run off as Josie had expected. Instead, the animal pranced, showing off her beautiful white-and-gray coat, then arched her back and rubbed herself against Josie’s legs.

“She likes you.”

Caught by the man’s obvious amusement, Josie whipped up her head and frowned. “She just likes being out of the dark.” And she liked it better when he was being hostile.

“More than that,” he murmured, as the cat suddenly made a demanding sound and leaped straight up.

Instinctively, Josie caught the cat, who immediately settled in her arms, purring as though she was where she belonged.

“Oh, great, what do I do now?” she murmured.

When she glanced up, the man was watching her intently, his expression strange. For a moment, she was caught. Mesmerized by a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. High cheekbones and a well-defined jawline gave his face an edge that only the slight cleft in his chin softened. Mouth dry, she stared back, vaguely aware that she was holding her breath.

“Meow!” the attention-deprived cat protested, jolting Josie into sucking in some much-needed air.

“So what are you going to do?” the man asked. “With the cat?”

“It doesn’t look like I have a choice at the moment, does it? I’ll have to take her with me.” Josie scratched the creature’s head and ran her fingers over the silky ears. “Don’t worry, Miss Kitty, we’ll figure out something until I can find your owner.”

And figure out how to feed the poor creature. “How are you at catching mice?”

The cat purred in answer.

“Doesn’t look like any mouser to me,” the man said, again seeming amused. Then he echoed, “Miss Kitty?”

“As good a name as any.”

“You wouldn’t have one, would you? A name, that is?”

“Josie Wales,” she said, this time without hesitation.

No harm in giving him a name that wasn’t even hers. The initials were right. She’d grabbed at the first thing that came to her mind. Still, she looked away from him and busied herself shushing Miss Kitty back into her carrier.

“Josie Wales?” He seemed about ready to challenge her, then said, “I’m Bart Quarrels over from the Curly-Q.”

Figuring the Curly-Q must be a local ranch, she nodded, lifted the occupied carrier once more and said, “I’d better be on my way, then.”

“Guess you’d better. I could give you a ride.”

“Not necessary. I like walking.” But a niggling at her conscience kept her from starting right off. “Hey, uh, Bart…Miss Kitty and I thank you for the rescue even if we didn’t need one.”

“I live to serve,” Bart said dryly.

Grinning despite herself, Josie set off, wondering how she was going to explain the cat to Alcina—not to mention the lack of those groceries she’d set out for.

BART WATCHED JOSIE WALES rush down the street, cat carrier in hand. Something odd about the woman. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but something was definitely off.

Had she been afraid of him simply because he’d given her a scare? Instinct and more than a dozen years in law enforcement told him there was more.

Having filled his gas tank and bought half a dozen rolls of film for Lainey, he’d merely been taking a good look around before going back to the Curly-Q when he’d spotted Josie walking down the street.

She’d seemed…furtive. He couldn’t describe her demeanor any other way.

Cop instincts kicking in, he’d watched her. And when she’d disappeared into the abandoned building, he’d naturally followed to see exactly what she’d been up to. Not that it was any of his business in the first place, he reminded himself as he climbed into the four-by-four.

He had to shake away her vulnerable yet spunky image. He had no business prying into her life any more than she had business in his. He’d turned in his deputy’s badge—at least figuratively—to work the Curly-Q. And he’d better get back to the ranch and his kids—as far as Bart was concerned, his only responsibilities in the foreseeable future.

EMMETT QUARRELS grinned to himself as he listened to the house come alive around him. Thunking footsteps…raised voices…blasting music, if a body could call it that. Sweet, sweet sounds.

For too many years, it had been just him rattling around these rooms until he was nigh sick unto death of his own miserable company. If not for Felice,he would long ago have gone stark, raving mad. But Felice, as fond as he was of her, wasn’t family.

And if he hadn’t done something drastic, he might never have seen his grandkids again, now that their mother was gone. Sara, Bart’s late wife, had always done right by him—he’d say that for her.