Free Their Christmas Bride by Vanessa Vale Page B

length of the block before I spoke next. "Good?"
    "I won't share you with him."
     
    ***
     
    Mr. Quinn opened the stage door. Because of his large size, he only looked up at me slightly, but his face was hidden in shadow beneath the broad brim of his hat. "May I help you down?" he asked, his voice a familiar and pleasing rumble, but it held none of the warmth to which I was accustomed.
    I slid across the bench seat as far away from him as possible, my back pressing against the far wall. "If you're going to put me in jail, at least...at least allow me to explain."
    "You'll come with us, Miss Porter," he said.
    I shook my head and my chin slid back and forth over my thick scarf. "No. I won't have the sheriff arrest me." I'd done nothing wrong!
    He glanced behind him to the other men, sighed, then grabbed my ankle over my dress, pulling me slowly closer and closer across the bench seat until he was able to easily grab me about the waist and pull me out of the stage. I was petite, barely coming up to Mr. Quinn's shoulder, so he handled me as if I weighed no more than a feather.
    I struggled in his hold. "I told you, I need to explain," I cried. "I'm not going to jail!"
    Mr. Quinn unceremoniously flipped me up and over like a sack of grain, my belly pressed into the broad expanse of one shoulder, his hand hooking over the backs of my thighs. I squealed in surprise and protest. "Mr. Quinn, put me down!"
    The man clearly chose to ignore me, for my voice was loud enough.
    "Let's not stay out here long," the sheriff began, "for it's colder than a witch's—"
    Mr. Porter cleared his throat.
    "Beggin' your pardon, ma'am." The sheriff tipped his hat, although I could barely see the gesture around Mr. Quinn's back. "It's cold. Let's take this discussion to the jail."
    "I told you I've done nothing wrong," I cried out. "I won't let you take me!"
    A hand swatted my bottom through the layers of my coat and dress. It smarted and was a complete surprise.
    "Be still, Allison," Mr. Porter said from beside me, and I realized he'd used my first name. It was the first time he'd said it, and that alone stilled me.
    I was thankful for the cold weather and the holiday for keeping all of the townspeople indoors, for I did not wish for them to witness my humiliation at being carried across town. I thought of the dark looks on the men's faces and I could only imagine what they thought of me. I turned my head into the back of Mr. Quinn's jacket to hide my face. Tears of mortification burned the back of my eyes. Mr. Matthews had clearly and baldly told me exactly what he would do to me if I rejected his suit and it seemed the false allegations had spread faster than a moving stage. Why else would the men be here with the sheriff waiting for me?
    When Mr. Quinn righted me, he held onto my arm until I got my feet settled beneath me. As I did, I caught the man's scent. Cinnamon and wood smoke. It was not unappealing and I had to admit it was usually quite affecting, but not in our current surroundings. The jail was squat and unappealing, but inside was blissfully warm. The sheriff hung his hat on a peg, and then went over to the stove to add another piece of wood. He stood back to his full height and rubbed his hands together. "Please have a seat, Miss Travers."
    Mr. Quinn turned the chair that faced the sheriff's large desk, but I eyed the door. I itched to fling it open and run away as fast as I could. Where I was to go once I was outside, I did not know, but being incarcerated was the alternative.
    "Don't even consider it," he murmured.
    I pursed my lips, knowing I had no choice but to sit, but I tipped up my chin, letting the man know it was under duress.  Mr. Porter leaned back against the edge of the desk, his long legs stretched out before him.
    I cleared my throat to fill the silence. "Am I under arrest?" I asked tersely, crossing my arms over my chest.
    "Why would the sheriff need to arrest you?" Mr. Porter asked, undoing the buttons down his coat.