Free A Texan's Luck by Jodi Thomas Page B

supper without a fight."
    Riley nodded. "That's some progress."
    Walker didn't plan on standing in the cold and talking about his marital problems, so he changed the subject. "Anyone spot Zeb Whitaker?"
    Riley shook his head. "I've had both my deputies walking the streets for over an hour. Abe said his feet are so cold his toes are falling off and rolling around in his boots. He couldn't find even one person who saw a big man riding out tonight. But that old buffalo hunter is around. I swear I can smell him."
    "They found nothing," Walker said as a statement.
    "Nothing," Riley echoed, "but a few tracks, already mostly covered up by new snow. Whoever stood between the buildings planned on doing some damage, if not murder. He had a horse waiting at the end of the alley and was gone before we could track him from the corner were he shot."
    Riley shook his head. "Maybe you should think of getting Lacy out of here."
    "To where? She'd be no safer on the road. Fort Elliot might be a good place, we could be there in a day, but she'd never go with me."
    "She's got a few friends—"
    "I'll not put others in harm's way," Walker said before the sheriff could finish.
    "I can't argue with that. Both the other two women who came into my office confessing to the murder of Zeb Whitaker five years ago are married with families now. They're in a lot safer locations than Lacy, so I'm guessing he's heading here first. The only friend Lacy has, that might take her in, is a girl down in Childress. They call her Two Bits. But she's just a kid, even if she did inherit an old house by the tracks a few months ago. She could let Lacy stay with her, but then neither one would probably be safe. Her place is off by itself."
    "Lacy stays with me," Walker said, remembering the fear in her brown eyes. If he had to give up sleep for a month, he'd protect her.
    Riley nodded and touched his hat in farewell. "Stay warm. We're in for a bad storm tonight." The sheriff walked away, a mangy alley dog following behind him.
    Walker "climbed the stairs and stepped back into the apartment kitchen as quietly as he could. The notepad still lay on the tiny table with twenty-three marked on the top page.
    "Lacy stays with me," Walker said again. "For as long as necessary." He flipped the notepad over. He didn't need to be reminded of his duty.

CHAPTER 7
     
    The cold woke Lacy before dawn. She felt as if she were sleeping in a mound of snow. Not even the blankets warmed her. Wrapping the covers around her, she forced her stiff body to move toward the kitchen, which she hoped would still be warm from last night's fire in the stove. The air seemed frozen, and she took shallow breaths, pressing her nose against the top of the quilt.
    As soon as she opened her bedroom door, warmth rushed in. For a moment she stood, letting the heated air caress her face. Blinking, she peered around the shadowy living space covered with quilts and hand-me-down books from her father-in-law. Home, too small of a word to describe how this place wrapped around her, welcomed her, made her feel like she belonged somewhere on the planet.
    The low, steady breathing of someone sleeping reached her ears, and Lacy realized she wasn't alone. Walker slept by the door leading to the shop. One of his hands lay outside his army blanket touching the rifle at his side. The barrel of the weapon pointed toward the kitchen door. The odd leather bag he'd brought in when he'd arrived was open near the lamp, and a book lay propped up as if he'd read himself to sleep.
    Lacy wondered how many times he'd slept with the rifle and the book so near. She tiptoed across the room and slipped into the kitchen. As she turned up the low-burning lamp on the table, she smiled, thankful Walker had stoked the fire in her little stove sometime during the night and not let it go out. He'd also brought in two buckets of snow. One rested on the back corner of the stove; the other, still icy, sat near the sink waiting to be