Free River Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 3 by Myla Jackson

with you.”
    Reminding herself to appear calm and curious like any other passenger, she opened the door. “May I help you?”
    The marshal looked past her into her room. “I’m looking for a passenger. Dillon Green.”
    Rosalyn swung away from the marshal, sure to keep her head down, her hat concealing the majority of her facial features. “You’ll see that I’m not hiding a man in my room, gentlemen.”
    “Mind if we search?”
    “Not at all.” She waved her hand, encouraging the marshal and his men inside. While they searched, Rosalyn stepped out into the hallway on the pretext of giving them room. Their closeness made her nervous. If they should bump against her, the ribbon precariously tied around her waist could break and the bag of gold would drop to the floor, spilling gold pieces. Now wouldn’t that be a fine kettle of fish? Explaining her way out of jail would be thorny, to say the least. The ridiculousness of the situation tugged at her funny bone and a smile curved her lips.
    It was just like Dalton to create a sense of chaos, even when he was nowhere to be seen.
    Movement on the stairway caught her attention. The devil in Rosalyn’s mind, Dalton Black, eased down the steps, his finger pressed to his lips.
    Rosalyn’s breath caught in her throat, and she jerked her head toward her room.
    Dalton tiptoed back up the stairs, disappearing.
    “We apologize for the inconvenience, Miss,” the marshal said as the men filed out of her room. “If you should see Dillon Green, please let the captain know to contact us.”
    “Why certainly. Marshal, what has the scoundrel done?”
    “His real name is Dalton Black. He’s wanted for murder and theft. He’s a dangerous man, ma’am.”
    “Oh my.” Rosalyn lifted her fingers to her lips, feigning fear. She knew how dangerous Dalton Black was, having lost her heart to him. The bag of gold bumped against her leg as a brutal reminder of how little Rosalyn really knew about Dalton Black. As soon as the marshal left the Marie-Dearie, she’d corner the gambler and get a few things straight.
     
    Dalton stole around the back of the Marie-Dearie. The marshal and his men didn’t stay below long. Soon they climbed up the stairs and split up, searching decks, the galley and the captain’s helm. The only place they didn’t look was the place Dalton chose to hide. He’d climbed onto the backside of the paddlewheel, grateful the boat wasn’t moving and that the paddles were completely dry.
    When all the deputies and the marshal gave up and left the ship, Dalton eased down from the paddlewheel and went below to the cabins. In his room, his breath caught in his throat when he spied the overturned trunk. He hurried forward and dug out the saddlebag where he’d hidden the bag of stolen gold.
    Dalton’s heart skidded to a stop. The bag wasn’t there. The marshal and his men had found the gold, proof enough for them that he was the murderer.
    “Looking for something?”
    Dalton jumped to his feet and spun toward the door.
    Rosalyn, wearing a black dress cut low over her bosoms, leaned against the doorframe, her dark brows winged upward, her blue eyes cutting directly into him.
    When he reached out to pull her into his room, she avoided his hand, drawing away. “I’m not staying.”
    Dalton frowned. “You’re right. It’s not safe in here with me. That marshal could come back anytime.” He grabbed her arm and led her down the hallway to her room, pushing her through the open doorway. Once inside, he closed the door and locked it.
    “The marshal was looking for you.” Rosalyn crossed her arms over her chest.
    “I’m afraid he might have found the bag of gold I had hidden in my room.”
    “The bag of gold stolen from the murdered soldiers?”
    “Yes, that’s the one.” Dalton gripped her shoulders. “Did the marshal take it?”
    Rosalyn stared into Dalton’s eyes for a long moment before she answered. “No.”
    “No?” Dalton gazed down at the beautiful