Free Sean Donovan (The Californians, Book 3) by Lori Wick

her vision.

    "Charlotte?" Sean's voice was soft.
    "Yeah," she answered as she lifted a hand toward her
face, but Sean beat her to it. With tender care his fingers
probed her jaw before gently sliding over her cheek. The
left side of her face felt as though it was on fire.
    They were both aware of voices and shouting on the
street, but Sean didn't move away until Charlie was
sitting up in the stall where he had laid her, and only
then when he heard the sound of Duncan's voice.
    "What's the problem?"
    "I'll tell you what the problem is," a man Sean had
never seen before said as he entered the livery. "I was
walking by when our bank robber here decided to punch
of Murphy in the face. -I say he should've hung."
    Murphy came to his feet, and started in with a string
of curses and accusations that surprised no one. Duncan
looked with regret at Sean, whose large frame blocked
his view of Charlie. The sheriff was certain he had been
right about this man, and even though Murphy was a
trial to everyone in town, Duncan wasn't about to put
one of Visalia's residents in danger. Having grown to like
Sean made his job all the harder.
    "It looks like I'll have to take you back to the jail, Sean,
but I would like to hear your story."
    Sean was livid with the loudmouthed man named
Murphy, but for the moment his anger was directed at
Duncan. "If the conditions on that paper state that I have
to stand back while some man hits my wife, then you can
go ahead and hang me!"
    Duncan spun so fast on the foul-mouthed livery patron that Murphy took a hasty step backward into a pile
of horse manure. "What is this, Murphy?" Duncan ground out the question, but he didn't wait for an
answer.

    "Charlie," he called, having just realized she was
behind Sean. The young man stood his ground as the
sheriff approached, his manner telling Duncan he had
been right all along.
    Duncan's hand briefly touched Sean's shoulder as he
stepped around him and bent over the small livery
owner. They spoke softly for some minutes while Charlie explained. Duncan saw red over the bruise on her
face; her cheek was already beginning to swell.
    Sheriff Duncan turned from Charlie to see that his
deputy had come on the scene. In a quiet voice he ordered the deputy to take Murphy to the jailhouse and to
keep him there until he arrived.
    "He owes me money," Charlie called as Murphy
started away.
    "He can pay it too," a voice shouted out of the crowd.
"He just cleaned me out in a game of poker."
    There was laughter all around, and even though Charlie's head felt like it was going to fall off, she looked on
with satisfaction as Murphy fished the coins from his
pocket.
    "Break it up now," Duncan shouted to the crowd that
had gathered. Sean and Charlie stood quietly until the
townspeople dispersed.
    "You should put a cold cloth on that." Sean spoke
quietly, watching his wife with very real concern and
wishing he had a handkerchief or something to offer her.
    "I'll be all right," she said, wanting to say more but
afraid he would see the fierce emotions pouring through
her. Besides, her face hurt too much to talk.
    "I'll get back to work," Sean said.
    "And I'll walk you to your house," Duncan told Charlie as he took her arm and headed for the rear door.

    "Get your feathers down, Charlie. I'm not offering
you charity."
    "I've got money."
    "I know you do, probably more than most of us realize, but that man who has come to be your husband
arrived with only the clothes on his back. If you don't
need my money, then take some of your own and buy
him an extra set of clothes and a haircut if he's so
inclined. Honestly, Charlie, he can't even take those
clothes off to wash them without having to go naked!"
    Charlie nodded, realizing Duncan was right. The job
of smith was very hard on clothing, and Charlie again
felt badly at not noticing Sean's lack.
    "How's the face?"
    "What?" Charlie had completely forgotten that Duncan was sitting there, so intent