Free Oklahoma kiss by Unknown Page A

they could decide whether he was telling the truth. "This man is dangerous. I caught him near Grandfather's meadow. He had just killed one of our steers. Not only that, I've got my suspicions he has murdered the deputy marshal."
           Tillie's huge black eyes grew even rounder when she looked at the man and saw for herself the dangerous aura he emitted. "Oh, Lord help us all!" she wailed, clutching at her bosom.
           Minutely shaking her head, Blair shot her a cautious look. "Is Warren here?"
           "No, don't you remember, child? Ah told you Mr. Warren won't be. . . ."
           ". . . You said you expected him and all of the ranch hands to be here by suppertime."
           Finally understanding the meaning behind the girl's words, she said hurriedly, "That's right, but Ah ain't seen hide nor hair of 'em yet." Carrying the pretense as far as she knew how, Tillie shaded her eyes and peered into the distance. "Don't know what could be keeping 'em. They should have been back long 'fore now,"
           Thinking quickly, Blair displayed false bravado. "Don't worry about it, Tillie. We can handle him. We'll just lock him in the storm cellar. Once he is inside there, escape will be impossible."
           The storm cellar was an impenetrable fortress. It was seven feet deep, measuring twelve by twenty feet in length and width. The top was braced with massive oak logs and covered with six feet of firmly packed red clay. Sometimes, during tornado weather, especially if a bad cloud was brewing, the entire family would sleep down there. She figured if it was strong enough to withstand some of those violent storms, it was strong enough to safely hold Adam Cahill until help arrived.
           Dismounting, she gestured with the rifle. "All right, mister, go around the side of the house and raise the cellar door. Tillie, don't get close to him, he's a desperate man. There's no telling what he'll try to do."
           Adam rolled his eyes and merely shook his head to conceal his annoyance.
           Breathing hard, Tillie followed close behind Blair. "Oh, don't worry none about that. Ain't going to give that hairy-legged man a chance to grab me—or you either for that matter!" She brandished the broom that seemed as much a part of her as her hand. "A'll whomp him across the head if'n he tries! Yes, ma'am," she added empathetically, "Ah'll do it in a minute, so, Mr. Outlaw, don't get any funny notions, you hear!"
           Reaching the cellar, Blair ordered sharply, "Now, raise the door and go all the way to the back, and I’ll throw the rope in after you."
           "You mean the condemned prisoner doesn't get a final meal?" Adam questioned, the cynical half-smile acutely marking his attractive yet lethal-appearing countenance.
           She retorted in a voice that was whipcord sharp, "There's food stored down there, help yourself. There are also beds, quilts and blankets, and there are candles and a tin of matches located in a groove on the left wall close to the bottom step. A lit candle should enable you to find the lamp." A smug, satisfied gleam came into her eyes. "And just to show you that even a wild heathen can have compassion, Tillie, please get a bucket of water and when he gets to the back of the cellar, place it on the first step."
           "Ifn you ask me, you're treating him too good, 'specially if he killed Mr. Ramsey."
           "Even though the facts point to his guilt, it hasn't been proven yet. And knowing Pete Ramsey, he would want this man to have a fair trial before he was hanged."
           Adam tossed back his head and laughed heartily "Again, too many dime novels and penny dreadfuls!" he admonished.
           She was barely able to control her rush of anger. "Oh, be quiet! Go on, get inside the cellar! You've done nothing but make sly and insulting remarks!"
           His tone was filled with scorn and ridicule, "Yes, ma'am,