Free The Law and Miss Penny by Sharon Ihle

black broadcloth, and flat-brimmed hat of charcoal felt, the man was positively dazzling. Mariah's throat went dry. Had she once thought of him as less than handsome?
    At her look of consternation, Cain's already deep frown slid into a scowl. "Between this stupid hat and preacher's coat, I must look like an Amish farmer without a crop to plow."
    Mariah shook her head. "No, no you don't. In fact, you look great. Turn around."
    "Seems like a waste of time, but all right."
    Cain spun in a slow, careful circle, giving Mariah a clear view of the way the coat hugged him across his broad shoulders, then tapered in at the waist and hips. Zack had chosen precisely the correct size and cut for the lawman, and the fit was perfect.
    When he'd completed the circle, again Cain linked his fingers at the waist, but this time, his expression was anything but humble. "I think by now it should be fairly obvious to us both—I'm not much good as Brother Law, and all the preacher clothing in the world isn't going to change that fact. Go ahead and say it. I simply won't do."
    Mariah ignored his words and looked him over instead, beyond the new clothing and "honest Abe" beard, to discover that most of the harsh lines around his mouth had faded, and that his dark green eyes exuded none of their previous malevolence. He would more than "do," she thought, forgetting herself for a moment. In fact, he exuded a certain charisma, a forthright and upstanding facade, but at the same time, he fairly glistened with a frank sensuality that set her pulse to thundering and her heart racing to keep up with the flow.
    "I—you look exactly the way you ought to, Cain." She swallowed hard. "And don't worry your head none about your part in the show. You'll do just fine. Why don't you go on out back now and preen your feathers for Zack and Oda. I have to get into my greasepaint and costume now."
    "Not yet." His voice was soft, more of a croon than a growl. He sat back down on the mattress and patted the spot beside him. "Come here a minute."
    "We don't really have time for yakking just now, Cousin Cain. Oda's fretting to get to town."
    He captured her wrist and pulled her down beside him. "She can wait a little longer. We have to talk now."
    Mariah raised her chin and looked him full in the face. His eyes weren't entirely green, she noticed, but shot through with shards of amber. Gemlike.
    Although she was gawking at him, her lips parted and moist, Cain cleared his throat and went on. "I'm not ready to take part in this show, and I don't think I ever will be. I thought it best to let you know that before we head into town."
    "Umm . . . really?" she managed to say, even though she'd become a creature of pure sensation, not logic. All she really cared about at that moment was the fact that their knees were touching. Actually, just the fabric of his jeans had brushed against her muslin skirt, but the heat generated in that brief contact was almost enough to put Mariah into a swoon. She laughed, the sound oddly girlish to her own ears. "You're much too hard on yourself, Cousin Cain. All you need is a little more rehearsal and—"
    "What I need," he said, finishing her sentence with a candor that surprised him, "is to believe in the products."
    "The products?" She blinked, trying to understand what he meant. "I don't follow you."
    "I'm talking about your medicines. It seems to me that in order to perform as Brother Law, I should at least be able to pretend I like Kickapoo Wizard Oil."
    She laughed again, this time sounding more like herself. "Is that what this is all about?"
    He gave her an awkward shrug by way of an answer.
    "Oh, Cousin Cain." She slapped his knee, and then left her hand to rest there. "You don't have to actually take any of our medicines if you don't want to—except, of course, for Number Twenty. You might want a dose of Zack's compound now and then for the black-draught effect, but other than that, you seem healthy enough without the rest."
    At her