Free Lawman by Lisa Plumley Page B

to her
eyes. She'd always managed to bring folks around to her way of
thinking, especially when it mattered. With the Websters. The
station hands. Her papa. Addie. What was so different about Gabriel
Winter? How, when she most needed to out-reason, out-talk, and
out-maneuver a Pinkerton man, had she suddenly lost her ability to
do it?
    Addie's words came heartbreakingly to mind. You'd better take care , she'd said. That fancy talk won't
always work on folks .
    Blast it, it could and it would. Megan
wasn't beaten yet.
    "I'm not leaving you unguarded," Gabriel
said, facing her at last, "to run and warn your father the minute I
ride beyond sight of the station."
    He laughed, with an uncommon lack of humor,
and passed his hand wearily over his face. "Or should I say, the
minute I turn my back on you. You're a wily one, sugar."
    "Only when I need to be." Like she'd need to
be in order to keep an eye on him, while he tried to trap her poor
papa. "Only when my back's up against a wall, like it is now."
    This time his laughter was genuine. "You
backed yourself into that wall, if I remember aright. I only kept
you company beside it."
    That he had done—and more. The memory of her
body arching away from the wall as his arms pulled her closer
brought new heat to Megan's cheeks...and strengthened her resolve.
Gabriel might have the upper hand for the moment, but she'd managed
somehow to lead him in the direction she'd set at least once
before. She could do it again.
    Amazingly, a part of her almost looked
forward to the challenge.
    "Be that as it may," she told him coolly,
mimicking his crossed-arm pose, "things have a way of changing
quickly here in the Territory. As a city man, of course—from
Chicago, didn't you say?—I don't expect you'd know about something
like that. You'll see soon enough, I suppose."
    "I suppose I will. I have no trouble seeing
what's right in front of me."
    As though in demonstration, Gabriel's
shuttered gaze lowered to her bosom. Gradually, his attention moved
to her waist and hips, which he leisurely examined before raising
his gaze to meet hers again. She should have been shocked by such
an intimate appraisal. She was shocked. But it wasn't
because of his improper behavior. It was because of the frank
appreciation in his gaze that followed it.
    "Exactly what do you think you're doing?"
she snapped.
    He smiled into her eyes. "I should think
that would be obvious enough, even to someone like you."
    Someone like her? What was that supposed to
mean? Bewildered, affronted—and more than a little embarrassed to
be the subject of such intense scrutiny—Megan drew up her shoulders
and faced him straight-on.
    "Well!" she said in her snootiest tone,
copied directly from the ladies in town, "I hadn't figured you for
a dressmaking connoisseur, agent Winter, but—"
    "I wasn't looking at your dress."
    In the face of his outright lie, her
composure deserted her. "Yes, you were. I saw you!"
    Gabriel's smile widened. "Whenever possible,
I prefer to work from the facts. Your dress is all that stands
between them and me."
    Just as she realized what he'd meant, he
stepped into the sunlight of the stage station yard and turned to
her. "I'd hate to draw up that wanted poster wrong, darlin'." He
tipped his hat. "We ride out in less than an hour."
     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    She's likely the daughter of a thief ,
Gabriel reminded himself as he rode beside Megan Kearney into the
dusty streets of Tucson late that afternoon. And far too wily to
be trusted .
    Not that he'd been tempted to trust her. At
least not beyond the first moment she'd batted those sad brown eyes
at him and invited him to a necktie party on his own behalf, just
for suggesting he'd like to do business with a pretty woman. If
that hadn't been warning enough of her true nature, the moment
she'd aimed a firearm at the lapels of his favorite suit would have
been.
    Plain as the saddle beneath him, Megan
Kearney was desperate to prove her no-good, gone-missing