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They turned and headed out of the saloon. When they reached the door, Deuce ventured a glance at his father. Ben gave him a cold stare and walked out ahead of him. Deuce’s shoulders sagged, and he followed along behind.
Clay fell back in his chair and took a long drink of beer. Thoughts of his own father, his own family, floated through his mind, and for a moment he allowed himself to indulge in the memories. Happy times, filled with the love and closeness of a family. Times spent with… Rebecca.
Anger coiled in Clay’s belly. He pushed his beer aside and surged to his feet, knocking the chair to the floor. The saloon quieted, and gazes turned his way. Clay pulled his hat low on his forehead and kicked the chair aside. He didn’t like to remember. It always made him angry. But the anger was easier to endure than the guilt that ate at him. Guilt for his actions—and his actions alone—that forever guaranteed that those happy memories were a thing of the past.
The saloon patrons gave him a wide berth—and plenty of stares—as he made his way to the street again.
Dusk had fallen, and Clay felt tired. He’d seen the hotel when he rode into town this afternoon, so he headed down the street in that direction. Shops were closing for the night, merchants and customers hurrying home to their families. They paused long enough to give him and the star pinned to his vest a curious look. He ducked into the alley, unwilling to be the object of any more idle gossip today. At times, the badge was a heavy load to carry.
Kelsey swept the last of Etta Mae’s meal preparations from the floor and dumped them into the bucket of dirty water waiting beside the back door. She straightened and groaned softly in the silent kitchen. The guests were all upstairs, and Etta Mae had gone home, leaving Kelsey to close up for the night. She didn’t mind cleaning the kitchen alone. Tonight, fueled by thoughts of her encounter with Jack Morgan, the work had gone quickly.
Kelsey wiped her hands on the linen towel and draped it over her shoulder as she looked around the room. Spotless. She carried the bucket onto the back porch. In the fading light, she saw the small stable and paddock across the dirt alley and reminded herself to take the mare to the blacksmith first thing in the morning, before its owner was ready to check out. Early, before prying eyes noticed.
A cool breeze stirred and Kelsey shuddered, anxious to finish her chores and get into bed. She drew back the bucket and tossed the dirty water into the alley.
At that instant, a man turned the corner of the hotel, and the water hit him square in the belly.
“Jesus Christ!”
Clay roared like a wounded tiger as the water splashed up his shirt and down his trousers and soaked his boots.
Kelsey gasped and looked down in horror at the incriminating evidence in her hand. She tossed the bucket aside.
His gaze impaled her, blazing like hot embers in the dim light. “What the hell are you doing?”
Her eyes rounded. “I’m—I’m sorry.”
A stream of filthy curses tumbled from his lips as he looked down at himself and flung water from his hands.
“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to—”
His frown grew more fierce.
“Let me help you.” Kelsey pulled the linen towel from her shoulder and hurried to him. Quickly she pressed the towel against his chest, mopping up the wetness.
“I didn’t see you standing there,” Kelsey explained hurriedly. She dipped the towel lower and pressed it against his belly. “I’m terribly sorry—really I am.”
Fire, more intense than his anger, suddenly ignited low in Clay’s belly. Through the layers of clothing that separated his flesh from hers, the feel of her fingers moving over him, dipping lower and lower, sent a surge of desire through him, swift and strong. Its urgency overwhelmed him.
He felt the towel against his belt buckle, then against the front of his trousers. Clay gulped and jumped back.
“Stand still.” She stepped closer. “I’m not finished.”
If she kept this up, she’d have a finish she hadn’t counted on. Clay pushed her hands away. ‘’Keep to yourself.”
Annoyed, Kelsey planted a fist on her hips. “Stop making such a fuss. I’m just cleaning you up.”
Raging heat consumed him. He glared down at her. “Didn’t your mama tell you that’s no way for a lady to act?”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “This is hardly the time for concern over proper decorum. Besides, I have brothers.”
“Well, I’m not one of them.” Clay yanked the towel from her hand and mopped the water from his trousers.
Heat flushed Kelsey’s cheeks, and she felt them redden. She took a step back, needing to put some distance between herself and this man, and the feelings his words had evoked.
“I’ve had a hell of a greeting in this part of the state,” Clay grumbled as he wiped his hands on the towel. “This tops off my day just dandy.”
Kelsey’s back stiffened. “You needn’t stand there acting as if this were all my fault”
He looked down at her, his eyes narrow. “You’re the one who threw the water, lady.”
“Well, you’re the one sneaking around the alley.” She planted her fist on her hip.
He waded the towel in his big hand and pointed. “I’m going to the hotel.”
Her nose went up a bit. “I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, guests use the front entrance.”
He lowered his face, leveling his nose with hers. “And I can sure as hell see why.”
They glared at each other for a moment before Kel-sey stepped back and lifted one shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m sorry.”
He grumbled, then flung the towel over his shoulder. “No harm done,” he finally said.
“Good. Now, give me your trousers.”
His chest swelled. “What?”
Kelsey’s cheeks flamed. She twisted her fingers together. “To have them laundered.”
He drew in a long, ragged breath, then handed her the towel. “I need a room for the night Where’s the hotelkeeper?”
“That would be me. Kelsey Rodgers.”
His brows inched upward, and then he touched the brim of his black Stetson. “Clay Chandler.”
Noting that he hadn’t said he was happy to make her acquaintance, Kelsey turned quickly on her toes and led the way into the back entrance of the hotel. She felt him behind her, his height and wide shoulders a force of their own. The man radiated a heat she’d never noticed in any of her brothers. His big, heavy steps sounded on the bare floors, drowning out the light scuff of her slippers.
She tossed the towel on the sideboard as they passed through the kitchen and led the way down the hallway to the small lobby. Modestly furnished, it held the registration desk, a settee and two upholstered chairs. The dining room was located at one end of the room and the staircase to the second floor was situated at the other.
Clay took in the lobby in one sweep, then sauntered up to the desk. He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his black, wavy hair. Kelsey slipped behind the desk and turned up the wick on the wall lantern. Their first meeting notwithstanding, she desperately needed another guest in the hotel, and she would take this stranger’s money gladly.
She put on her best hotelkeeper’s smile and turned to welcome him to the Eidon Hotel. The words suddenly died on her lips. Pinned to his vest, shining in the lanternlight, was the badge of a United States federal marshal.
Raw terror ripped through her. A federal marshal! Right in her own hotel! Had he come for her? Did he suspect her involvement in today’s stagecoach robbery? Would he arrest her on the spot? Kelsey gripped the edge of the desk.
“I’ll be staying a couple of nights.” Clay dropped his Stetson on the desk. “Give me a room facing the street.”
Kelsey swallowed hard and forced her gaze from his badge to his face. Recognition coiled her stomach into a knot. This wasn’t just any federal marshal, but the marshal she’d rescued from a hanging only hours earlier.
Her gaze dipped to his neck, and she saw the rope burns inside his collar. At once she felt overwhelmed by the desire to press her fingers against the marks and soothe them with her touch.
She gave herself a little shake. What was she thinking? The man was a federal marshal. If he knew who she was and what she’d done, he’d slap her into jail without a second thought She had to get rid of him.
Kelsey perused the register and cleared her throat. “Sorry, but we’re full up.”
One thick, dark eyebrow crept upward, and he turned to gaze pointedly at the deserted lobby. Silence hung over the hotel. Clay eyed the cubbyholes on the wall behind the desk, the rows of keys to unrented rooms dangling there.
“You’re full up?”
Kelsey pushed her chin a notch higher. “Yes, we are. I couldn’t squeeze another guest in here with a shoehorn.”
Clay rested his forearm on the desk and leaned closer, his voice low and measured. “Look, lady, I’ve had a hell of a day and I need a place to sleep. If I have to, I’ll go from room to room until I find an empty bed, and when I find one—”
“Let me look again.” Kelsey dipped her gaze to the register once more, her mind whirling. He didn’t recognize her. He didn’t connect her with the hanging incident this afternoon. To protest his stay further would only call attention to herself, make him suspicious. She had no choice.
Kelsey forced a bright smile. “Well, what do you know? It seems we do have a vacancy. And it faces the street How about that! Just sign in, please.”
Clay straightened and scrawled his name in the register she pushed toward him. “The livery was supposed to send over my gear.”
On the floor near her feet, Kelsey found saddlebags and a rifle. She hoisted them onto the desk. “A new Winchester rifle? Nice.”
His hand froze on the saddlebag. He eyed her suspiciously. “You know about guns?”
Kelsey swallowed hard. “I told you I had brothers. Remember?”
Warmth spread through him as he recalled the incident in the alley, when her hands had been all over him. “I remember.”
She passed him the key. “Room four. Turn right at the top of the stairs. Good night.” Kelsey forced a smile.
Clay pulled on his Stetson and flung his saddlebags over his shoulder. “Good night.”
He picked up the rifle and climbed the steps. Half-way up, he turned back. “Don’t forget to lock that back door.”
Stunned, she simply nodded, then watched as he dis-appeared up the stairs. Kelsey sagged against the desk. A feeling of foreboding crept over her.
In her heart, she knew it would be a long time before she saw the last of Marshal Clay Chandler.
Chapter Three (#ulink_fe67d927-a0c4-5d25-8258-c676a6a5da23)
The morning chill seeped through Kelsey’s shawl as the sun peeped over the Ozarks, doing little as yet to warm the air. She tugged the thin wrap tighter around her shoulders and pulled back on the lead rope, stopping the mare in front of the livery stable. She’d left the hotel at first light and kept to the back alleys, but still, it was nearly impossible to hide something as big as a horse.
“Good morning?” She peered through the open double doors of the livery. “Mr. Tucker?”
A light brown head of hair popped up from one of the stalls. Deuce smiled when he saw her. “Morning, Miss Kelsey.” He propped his pitchfork against the wall and walked out to meet her.
Deuce stood only a little taller than she, and probably didn’t weigh much more, either—a sharp contrast to his twin brother. It seemed to Kelsey he had always looked as he did right now, frayed collar on a too-large shirt, suspenders trying to hold up trousers Jared had long ago outgrown.
“I didn’t know you were working down here now.”
Deuce shrugged. “Just since yesterday.”
“How are your ma and the girls?” After giving birth to Deuce and his twin brother, the Tuckers had pro-duced five daughters. Kelsey saw them occasionally in town.
“Okay, I reckon.”
“Are you here by yourself this morning?” She needed the mare shod right away, and knew Deuce couldn’t handle it.
“No.” Deuce tilted his head toward the rear of the stable. “Pa and my brother are here.”
Kelsey peered past him, to the back of the darkened barn, and saw Ben and Jared, evenly matched in size and build, having coffee together.
Deuce patted the mare. “Need something this morning?”
Kelsey took in a quick breath and gave him the speech she’d rehearsed. “She lost a shoe—I’ve no idea how—and it’s a bit of a rush. Could your pa see to her right away?”
“What’s the problem?” Ben Tucker walked out of the stable and gave Kelsey a welcoming nod before turning a stern look on Deuce. “You finished cleaning those stalls, boy?”
“No, sir, I just—”
Ben jerked his thumb toward the stable. “I’ll tell you when you can come outside.”
Deuce ducked his head and hurried into the stable.
Kelsey shuddered. She wouldn’t want the wrath of Ben Tucker aimed at her.
“Now, what’s the problem here?”
“No problem,” Kelsey replied. “I’m just in a small hurry. I was hoping you could take care of her first thing.”
Ben ran his hand down the horse’s neck, studying the animal. “I’ll have the boy bring her back when I’m done.”
“Thanks.” With a sigh of relief, Kelsey hurried back to the hotel. Etta Mae would arrive soon, and she didn’t want to explain why she was out so early. She couldn’t be too careful. Not with a federal marshal living under her roof.
Clay bounded up the front steps of the hotel, feeling better than he had in a week, the night in a real bed and the bath he’d just had accounting largely for his good mood. The smell of food reminded him of his gnawing belly, since he’d elected to have a supper of beer at the Watering Hole last night.
In the dining room, morning sunlight filtered through the ruffled curtains, brightening the white linen and silverware laid out on the tables. Every eye in the crowded room turned Clay’s way as he sauntered to a table at the rear and sat down with his back to the wall. He dropped his Stetson in the chair beside him and gazed out the window.
The town appeared prosperous, with a number of shops doing a brisk business already. Wagons, buggies and horses moved along the dirt street. Women with small children, miners, men wearing suits with guns strapped to their thighs all moved along the boardwalk. Eldon seemed like a good town. Clay thought, growing, clean. A place a man could settle in, raise a family in, grown old in.
Annoyed with his thoughts, Clay turned away from the window. He needed a cup of coffee. The door from the kitchen swung open, and the serving girl swept into the room, balancing a tray of steaming food on one hand. It smelled delicious. Then an- other scent tickled his nose, and it took only a second for him to recall it from the night before. His breath caught in his throat as he recognized Kelsey Rodgers under that tray.
She’d seemed bigger last night, when she doused him with water, set his nerves on end mopping his trousers and tried to have him sleep in the street. Now, seeing her in the morning light, he realized she stood just a shave above his elbow. Her features were delicate. She was like a finely crafted china doll, with big, expressive green eyes and light brown hair. She bent to set the plates of food on the table beside him, and he saw the fullness of her breasts pressing against the tiny row of buttons up the front of her soft green dress. Clay’s belly tightened. He hadn’t realized last night how pretty she was, either.
He watched as she turned and her gaze swept the room with a critical eye, then came to rest on him. He saw the sharp intake of her breath, and his belly coiled again.
“Good morning, Marshal.” Kelsey stopped beside his chair and put on a bright smile.
Certain she gave that smile to every diner who took a seat at one of her tables, Clay sat back in his chair and gazed up at her. “Let me guess—the kitchen just closed.”
