Carolyn Davidson - Texas Gold

Brace folded his arms across his chest. “Well, what do you want me to tell him? Shall I give him directions, or do you want to go into town and meet him in my office?”

“Send him out,” she said, her shoulders slumping in weariness as she thought of what must come to pass. “I’ll handle it, Sheriff.”

“A wise choice.” The dark, deep tones were familiar to her, and Faith had no need to turn around to determine who spoke. Yet she did, knowing she was better off facing him than giving in to cowardice.

Leading a saddled horse, he stepped from around the side of the house, then halted, his gaze intent on the sheriff. “I followed you,” he said, tilting his hat back in a gesture that revealed his face.

“Thought I’d kept a close eye behind me,” Brace answered, one hand touching the butt of his revolver. “Didn’t take you for a sneaky man, mister.”

“I wouldn’t call it sneaky,” Max McDowell said quietly. “I had an idea you knew more than you were willing to admit when we spoke this morning. Didn’t think it would hurt to tag along.”

Brace muttered an oath, his face turning crimson as if he recognized his failure to keep Faith’s location a secret from the intruder.

“It’s all right,” she said hastily when the lawman would have stepped protectively in front of her. “I’ll talk to Max. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.”

Max nodded, the movement slight. “I think my wife knows me well enough to be assured of her own safety.”

Brace cut an inquiring look at Faith. “You’re sure?” Obviously dragging his feet, he lifted the reins he’d dropped to the ground. “Should I stop by and talk to Garvey?”

Faith shook her head. “No, there’s no point in dragging anyone else in on this.”

Brace Caulfield mounted his gelding and swung the horse in a half circle. “I won’t stand for any shenanigans, McDowell. Miss Faith is under my protection, so long as she’s living in this county.”

Max shot him a glittering look from dark eyes that brooked no interference. “I think I heard my wife tell you I was not a harsh man, Sheriff. Isn’t that good enough for you?”

“Max…” The warning was clear, Faith’s use of his name drawing his attention and obliging him to nod agreeably.

“Don’t worry about the lady,” Max said, his voice chilled with contempt. “I’ve never hurt Faith before. And I’m certainly not about to change my ways.” He led his mount forward, and with a quick movement, released the cinch with an ease of motion that surprised Faith. Max had never been an avid horseman, yet had kept a mare in a livery stable, riding for exercise when the burdens of business became weighty and he sought relief in an hour or two outdoors.

Now he repeated his words, emphasizing each one. “I said, don’t worry about my wife, Sheriff. She’s in no danger.”

Brace grudgingly grunted agreement, gave Faith a last, questioning look, and then, at her nod of reassurance, nudged his horse into a trot and headed toward town.

The man she’d married more than six years before had changed a bit, she decided. Max McDowell was beginning to show his age. A scattering of white touched his temples, adding a bit of dignity to his already stalwart appearance. He carried himself well, she thought, as he always had.

For Max the paunch developed by men who ate well and exercised little would never come. His body had always been that of a man who worked hard, and he’d developed a muscular structure, one to be envied by lesser beings. Dark hair, cut short lest it wave overmuch, capped his well-formed head. His features, that arrangement of facial components that made him a prize sought by women wherever he went, had not changed.

Chiseled, or perhaps severe, she decided, was the best description she could come up with for the rigid jawline, the blade of a nose and the deep-set, dark eyes that could slice through her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her trembling, and aware of the effect he’d always had on her.

She trembled now—now that the full force of his attention was directed on her slender frame. Perhaps it had been an error in judgment, sending Brace on his way. Yet she could not imagine holding this postmortem in front of a stranger. And certainly Max would not be leaving until he’d had his pound of flesh.

Perhaps it was only a figure of speech, but given that the flesh in question was ultimately to come from her, she didn’t find the vision of the hour or so ahead of her an appetizing prospect.

“Are we going to stand out here all morning?” Max asked. “If you’ll allow it, I’ll put my horse into the pasture or the barn, whichever suits you.”

“I’ll take him,” Faith said, snatching at the opportunity to walk away from the man who’d pursued her halfway across the country. “Sit down on the porch while I turn him loose out in back.”

“I’ll help you,” Max said smoothly, walking beside her, allowing her not a moment in which to gather her wits before she was faced with the confrontation that was sure to come. His hand brushed against hers as if he commanded her attention, and she drew aside, unwilling to allow him any familiarity.

His chuckle surprised her, and she glanced up, wary of the humor that lit his gaze. “What’s so funny?”

“You. Trying to avoid the simple touch of my hand against yours. When we both know you didn’t feel so hesitant to have my hands on you once upon a time.”

She felt a blush redden her cheeks, knew the haze of anger blurring her vision. “That was a cheap shot, Max. Although it tells me much about your opinion of me. I wasn’t aware that you thought so little of my—”

“You haven’t the faintest idea what I thought about you,” he said harshly, interrupting her before she could muster an adequate defense. “You didn’t give me a chance to answer any of your accusations or offer any compromise that might have salvaged something of the wreck we’d managed to make of our marriage.”

“I knew,” she said quietly, opening the gate to the corral and leading his mount through the dusty area to the pasture gate beyond. She quickly stripped the saddle from the horse’s back, and Max took its weight from her, tossing it atop the corral fence.

“You knew?” he asked, brushing his hands together as he stepped ahead to lift the latch on the narrow entry to the lush grass beyond the fence. Three horses occupied the pasture, two of them the team she used for field work. Her own mare looked up, sent a shrill welcome to the visitor and loped eagerly toward them.

“I’ll be damned.” Max’s words were a hushed whisper. “Where’d you get that mare?” he asked, his attention taken by the golden creature that approached. Creamy mane flying in the wind, her tail a flag held high, the horse was a vision to behold.

“Bought her,” Faith said shortly.

“She’s breeding,” he said, his gaze scanning the slender legs and swollen belly. “When’s she due to drop her foal?”

“Anytime now.” And if he thought he was going to be here to attend the event, he had another think coming, she decided.

“Have you got a buyer lined up?” Max reached for the mare, spooking her with his touch, and she tossed her head, flirting a bit, as if she were accustomed to attention from visitors.

“The foal will belong to my neighbor, Nicholas Garvey. I used his stud. He’ll breed her for me in another month or so, and the next one is mine.”

Max shot her a look of disbelief. “You’re not charging him, just giving him—”

“I made the deal,” she said harshly. “I live in this house, free of charge. He owns it, and he keeps an eye on things…sort of looks after me.”

The dark eyes grew cold, his jaw tightened, and his mouth was a thin line. “Looks after you? And allows you to live in his house? And where does he spend his nights?”