her up the best he could.
“I never would have thought she’d turn a gun on me,” Colby muttered, pinching her skin closed as Rhys pushed the needle through it.
“Maybe she got tired of being all alone out here in a house with a leaking roof.”
“She knows she could hire anyone in town to do it.”
“She doesn’t like the way they look at her, knowing what she was to you and your brother. She doesn’t like to go to town.”
Colby sat back, releasing Maddy’s skin. “Well, hell, Marshal, did you go and fall in love with our girl, here?”
Rhys pressed his lips together as he continued to stitch.
“My little Maddy, in love with a lawman. Never thought that would happen. But she came to your rescue.”
Rhys did not want to discuss this with the outlaw, but apparently pain and whiskey loosened Colby’s tongue.
“You screwed her, I know you did. I can smell you on her bed. Thought you were tougher than that, Marshal, falling for a pretty face.”
“I’m not the one she turned the gun on,” Rhys muttered.
“I didn’t mean to shoot her.”
“Of course not. She just got in the way of your bullet.”
“Meant for you. Hell, if I’d known you were screwing her, I’d have taken more time with my aim.”
Rhys bared his teeth at the other man, then finished off the stitches and punched Colby in the injured leg with all his strength. The other man howled and passed out.
Chapter Six
Maddy cradled her arm as she looked out the second story window at the town below. People hurried place to place, heads bent against the wind. The spring temperatures hadn’t lasted long, but at least this new storm didn’t bring snow.
She was warm and well-fed—and alone.
She turned from the window and adjusted the sling holding her arm immobile. She’d woken up two weeks ago to learn that Rhys had brought her here, paid for the room and a doctor, and left.
She shouldn’t expect anything more from the man who’d come into her life, charmed her, made love to her, all while he lied about who he was. How had she let herself be fooled? Because she was lonely and he was handsome and kind and—and lying to her. Using her. No better than Luke and Edward had done. Worse, because he was the law.
She’d replayed everything in her mind, looking for clues, and could find none. Not in the way he talked to her, or touched her, or kissed her. Perhaps he didn’t come to her thinking to bed her, but she felt used all the same.
Now it was time to go home. She’d have to hire someone to drive her because she couldn’t manage her wagon, though she’d been told it was waiting for her at the livery, also paid for by Rhys. But she needed to get home to Jack and her chickens and her cows and her life. Funny how she never felt as lonely as she did when she was in town.
“No, ma’am, I don’t know anyone who can drive you home today,” the proprietor Mr. Ackles told her, his hands braced on the counter in front of him as if to hold himself as far away from her soiled reputation as possible. “The weather is downright raw, and I don’t know anyone who would venture out in it on purpose. Your room here is paid another week. Why don’t you wait for a more suitable travel day?”
“I’ll pay whoever takes me home. I have responsibilities there.” And the peace to nurse a broken heart.
“The marshal said we were to take good care of you. Are we not? You won’t be able to manage on your own with your injury.” Curiosity about her wound brightened his eyes.
No doubt he knew she’d been shot, but she wondered if he knew the details. She certainly had no intention of telling him. “When do you think it might be possible?”
“Another day or so. Would you like me to send dinner to your room?”
He’d been doing that to keep her away from the respectable citizens of town. But since he was unwilling to help her…
“I believe I’ll take dinner in the dining room today. I would like a seat by the