Katie and the Marshal (Montana Women Book 1) Page 5

  “No.”

  Katie rose from her seat behind the bar and made her way to the front door, opened it and raised one eyebrow.

  The three men looked at her, then slowly laid down their cards. The older cowboys left, their walk lurching due to inebriation. Stan followed slowly. When he reached Katie’s side, he paused to give her a lewd grin. “Come on, sweet thing. I hear tell this Palace is a brothel, too, ain’t it? How about you and me making a night of it upstairs?” He hauled her into his arms and kissed her. His slobbering lips slid across her mouth, pressing hard. She tasted blood in her mouth.

  She managed to jerk out of his arms and yell, “James! Help me!”

  Chapter 6

  James lurched upright in bed, waking from a deep sleep. He sat there and slid his fingers through his hair, listening, alert for any signs of danger. All was quiet.

  He lay back down and frowned. Hearing Katie call for help must have been a nightmare. He hadn’t slept well last night, once he’d decided to ask Katie to marry him. And he sure as hell hadn’t meant to fall deeply asleep before she closed up for the night.

  He sat up again as the feeling came over him that something just wasn’t right. That was when he heard her screams. “Help, please! James!”

  That was no nightmare! He flung himself out of bed and down the stairs, hiking up his long john pants the inch they’d crept down along the way. His blood boiled when he found Katie sprawled on her back over the bar with a cowboy hunched over her, oddly silent and unmoving. The cowboy palmed her breasts, one in each hand. Touching my future wife!

  His fury mounted when he saw the man had flung her skirts up so they covered her face. Her white stockings, once held up by her garters, were down around her ankles, her tiny black shoestrings untied.

  James charged across the room just as the cowboy tore Katie’s bloomers down, exposing her sweet curves. He reached the man and yanked him off Katie, downing him with an upper cut to the jaw and a left to the gut. The creep was young, though, and was out only seconds before springing up again. James faced him with a scowl. Anger rippled through him when he saw the gun in the man’s hand. Damn! In his rush to reach Katie, James realized he’d left his gun in his room.

  “Katie,” he called softly without turning toward her, his gaze necessarily fixed on the gun, “slide down to the floor behind the bar and stay down.”

  He didn’t hear a sound behind him, nor did she acknowledge him.

  My God, she couldn’t be dead! He hadn’t heard any gunshots, but then there were other ways a man could kill a small woman like Katie.

  Cool, stay cool.

  He faced his adversary.

  “What are you, her boyfriend or something?” the cowboy said, his voice slurred with drunkenness.

  “Yes,” James said. “I’m also the law in Bozeman. Leave while you have the chance.”

  The man’s laugh made James even more furious.

  “Well, look at you,” the man snarled. “A lawman without a gun and nearly naked?” His laughter grew hysterical. “I was just showin’ the little lady a good time, that’s all. Problem was she didn’t wanna have a good time right now. Wanted me to leave. I had to get rough with her.” He frowned and swayed on his feet as James gauged his state of inebriation.

  “What did you do to her?” James demanded.

  “Cuffed her upside the head, that’s all.” The man backed along the length of the bar, heading for the back way out, James figured. The bastard had hit her—hit Katie—upside the head, hence why she wasn’t moving.

  James raised his fists and strode toward the drunken cowboy. “Drop the gun and fight fair—like a man should.”

  “Hell, no! You take me for a fool?” Stan stopped at the end of the bar and aimed the gun at James. “If I don’t shoot you, you’ll arrest me. I ain’t got nothing to lose.”

  Katie had been feigning unconsciousness, giving herself time to think with a cool head. Through her narrow-slit eyes, she saw James with his back to her and the cowboy at the opposite end of the bar. She eased her skirts back down as unobtrusively as she could, turned over and slid down to the floor behind the bar. Wriggling her bloomers up, she pulled herself to her knees and found herself facing the bartender’s special on the shelf—a loaded Colt .45.

  She picked it up, praying she had a steady hand and dead-on aim. Rising slowly, she faced the cowboy, heard him say, “Drop your drawers, lawman. I want to see why the ladies in every town I pass through are in love with the town lawman.”

  “Drop, James!” Katie shouted.

  Without hesitation, he did, and the blast from a gun filled the room. Katie held the gun so tightly, she barely felt the kick-back. The cowboy fell flat on his back, howling.

  James rose to a crouching position, moved to the cowboy and saw blood spurting from his thigh. Quickly, he removed a bandana from the cowboy’s pocket, folded it in a long strip, wound it around the thigh above the injury and yanked it as tight as he could.

  The man’s scream gave him pure satisfaction—the least he owed Katie for his outlaw behavior. The bandana should hold and staunch the blood flow, James decided, until the doctor arrived.

  Knowing the cowboy wouldn’t be going anywhere, James relaxed, then swiveling around and, rising, he strode to her side. He removed the smoking gun from Katie’s hand, set it down on the bar and took her in his arms.

  The sound of pounding feet on the steps let James know the other boarders had heard the gunshot. Two cowboys James knew tore down the steps in their long johns. “Go for the doc,” James said as Katie huddled against his chest, her face buried there.

  With quick nods, they took in the scene, then headed upstairs. Returning within moments dressed, they left the Palace.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” Katie whispered, her voice trembling.

  James eased her away slightly, and his heart lurched at the agony on her face. Tears slid down her cheeks. “No, but I’d say he’s not going to be walking around any time soon. Damn, woman, who taught you how to shoot?”

  She sniffed. “My mama, but this is the first time I’ve shot at anything, or anyone, that was alive.”

  James admired her in his gaze. “I wish I could meet your mama.”

  Looking up at him through her tears, she said, “She lives in Texas and comes to visit once a year. If you’re still here when she comes, you’ll meet her, I’m sure.”

  The doctor arrived with a curt nod at James, the two cowboys right behind him. James addressed his friends. “Stay with the doc. If there’s any trouble, you’ll find me out back on the porch.”

  With his arm around Katie’s back, he walked with her down the hall that led to the kitchen, then out the back door. “We need to have a talk, darlin’.”

  She nodded. On the porch, he brought her close to him again. He cradled his hands around her face and said, “You scared the living hell out of me, lying on the bar so motionless.”

  “Playing ‘possum’, you mean?”

  “I saw the blood…”

  “Yes, he did slap me, but not all that hard. I knew if I had any chance of surviving, I needed to pretend he’d done greater damage.”

  He nodded, taking a deep breath. “You need a man to protect you, Katie.”

  She jerked her chin from his hands. “I beg your pardon! I believe I saved your hide this night, didn’t I, Marshal?”

  That gave him pause. Then, leaning close to her so that his lips were mere inches from hers, he said softly, “You sure did, sweetheart.” He pressed his mouth against hers for a moment, then backed away. Her eyes were opened wide. “I should have been the one to save you. But, with you saving me, things have changed.”

  Katie ogled him in shock. “Pardon me?”

  “I want you to be my wife, Katie. And I planned on continuing to use the excuse that you needed my protection. Which you obviously do not.”

  He turned away and took two steps. In profile, Katie saw the look of dejection on his face.

  “But I do!”


  He whipped around, his brow raised. “You do…?”

  “Need your protection, I mean.”

  He shook his head at her. “Now, Katie, don’t go all soft and feeling sorry for me…”

  “I need your friendship, James. Rather, I want it, and your love.”

  “Same here, sweetheart,” he said softly, drawing near.

  She stepped toward him with tears in her eyes and waited for him to make the next move.

  “I—I have a question to ask you, of a personal nature,” he said, clearing his throat.

  She smiled gently. “About…?”

  “A personal proposition. Marry me, sweet Katie.” He wound an arm around her waist, pulling her against his lanky frame. He murmured, watching her face carefully, “You look surprised.”

  Katie grasped his strong forearms and grinned. “I am surprised, very much so.”

  “Surprised that I love you?”

  She shook her head and laughed. “No, surprised that your manly pride allowed you to accept my proposal.”

  “Wait a minute. I proposed to you, little lady.”

  “But only after I confessed my love for you first.” She frowned. “As a matter of fact, you haven’t said a word about love.”

  Gathering her close again, he said, “Each night, as I laid on my bed listening to you close up the Palace, I knew I was falling in love with you. Knew I needed you to be my wife. And I’ll tell you now, I never thought to find love and marriage in my life. I couldn’t deny my own heart when I met you.”

  He moved back and gazed into her eyes. Katie saw a gentleness mixed with long suppressed desire in his eyes. “Why didn’t you think you’d ever marry?” she asked.

  James lowered his head until his lips nuzzled the side of her neck. She melted into his arms. In between kisses, she heard him say, “Because of my work, I’d always thought I’d worry about some criminal going after my wife in retribution against me. I decided if I wanted you to be my wife, if I ever wanted to have happiness in my life, I’d need to suppress those fears. Once we’re married I’ll tell you more. I’ll tell you about my mother, and the hard life she lived. The one I wanted to save her from but couldn’t. But we won’t talk about it now. We’ve time.”

  She traced his lips with her fingers, understanding that men had a hard time speaking of sad things in life. Once he became more comfortable with her as his wife, Katie felt sure he’d open up to her. “Did you decide all this tonight, James?”

  He laughed. “No, I’ve been thinking about it ever since the judge found you innocent of any wrong-doing. I’ve loved you since the moment I came to town and set eyes on you. What cinched my feelings was when you invited me back to the Palace after I arrested you wrongly, offering me back my room. Your acceptance and forgiveness humbled me, Katie.”

  “Forgiving you was easy, because of my own love for you,” she said softly.

  He tightened his hold on her, slid a hand behind her head, angling it to accept his kiss. Lordy, but the man knew how to kiss! Katie groaned and wound her arms around his neck. He kissed her long and hard, soft and gentle, taking her breath away. And, when he released her, she wanted him to take her in his arms again.

  Shaking a bit, she stepped back with tears filling her eyes. They slid down her cheeks when he got down on one knee and looked up at her with an intensity she’d never seen in the eyes of any man. “Will you marry me, Katie my love?”

  She couldn’t deny her heart. “Yes!” she choked out. “And will you marry me, Marshal Freeman?”

  “I think I will at that, Miss Katie, just as soon as the judge is back in town.”

  THE END

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  Also by Nancy Pirri

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  Don’t miss the second

  Montana Women Novella

  Annie and the Outlaw

  Available August 1, 2017

  Exclusively on Amazon

  Recently released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Cane Smith returns to Bozeman to claim the son he’s never met, only to discover the boys mother is dead and the boy has been adopted by a rancher and is being raised by his twenty-year-old daughter, Annie.

  When Annie refuses to part with the boy, Cane makes her an offer: Miss Annie will have to marry him if she wants to keep the boy in her life. Annie will do anything to keep her little boy with her—but can she live with the hard, rough Cane Smith?

  Annie and the Outlaw

  PROLOGUE

  Christmas Day, 1887

  Huntsville, Texas Prison

  Cane Smith had a son.

  A son.

  The letter from Mae Franklin, dated a year ago, had found its way to him. During the six and a half years he’d spent in prison, he’d never received a single letter until now. There was a note tucked inside the envelope with Mae’s from Judge Simon Hopkins, the man who’d sentenced him to prison. Mae had written the letter but had never sent it. In Bozeman, Montana, U.S. Marshal James Freeman, had found the letter addressed to Cane after Mae had been found dead in her home. She hadn’t included an address but Freeman had recognized Cane’s name from his trial and passed the note on to the judge.

  Cane learned that a boy being raised in Bozeman by the Callahan family resembled Cane. The boy’s mother, Giselle Hanks, had been a prostitute. She’d spent nights in the arms of many men, including Cane. On her deathbed, Giselle confessed to her friend Mae how she was certain Cane was her baby’s father. Mae had asked her how she knew for certain, after being with so many men. Giselle’s last murmured words convinced Mae. Only with Cane had she left herself unprotected, for she loved him and believed he loved her.

  Tears welled in his eyes at the same time hope filled his heart. He had a son, a reason to live when he’d wanted to die. After spending almost seven Christmases in prison, he had a purpose in finding a way out of this hellhole. He folded the letter and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. He lay back on his lumpy cot and imagined being a father—imagined what his life would be like with a son.

  His happiness fled quickly at the thought of his life up to this point. How would he take care of the boy, even if he were released? He’d been a wandering cowboy for years before going to jail. He was twenty-eight years old and had accomplished nothing good in his life. Nothing except for fathering a child.

  Cane thought back to the day he’d been sentenced to twenty years in prison—for a train robbery he hadn’t committed. Without proof, he never had a hope in hell of clearing himself. The few folks on the train who’d witnessed the robbery had accused him. />
  Was there a chance of turning it around now? He had to find a way. Sitting up with renewed determination, he decided he’d find a way out of prison and claim the boy. He came to his feet. “Hey! Jailer!”

  The only reply he received was from the inmate in the cell to his right. “You prick! You woke me up.”

  Old Warren Strom was no threat. Truth be told, he was Cane’s only friend in this godforsaken place. “Sorry, Strom, I need to see a guard.”

  “What for?”

  “I need to write a letter and don’t have any paper or pencil.”

  A hand holding a scrap of paper, a yellowed envelope and a broken stub of a pencil appeared out of the bars at the front. Cane reached over and grabbed them. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  Strom muttered gruffly, “Now shut the hell up and let a man get some sleep.”

  Settling down on his bunk again, Cane wrote back to the judge. When he finished, his heart felt weighed down in grief as he thought about sweet Giselle who’d died, strangled by some drunken cowboy passing through Bozeman shortly after the birth of their son. The poor woman hadn’t had any chance in life, having been born of a prostitute, the only home she’d known a brothel.

  He’d been no better than any other man who’d swaggered through her boudoir door. After living on the plains for weeks at a time, spending a night with a prostitute was one of the few joys in life a cowboy had to look forward to when he came to town. A few visits to Giselle, and he knew he’d fallen in love.

  The last time he’d seen her he promised he’d return once he saved enough money. Then he’d marry her and take her away with him. He thought of her tear-filled eyes and the longing in them as she’d nodded. It was only after he left town that he realized she hadn’t believed him for an instant. He guessed she’d received similar offers from other cowboys who hadn’t kept their promises. He’d meant to keep his and would have if he hadn’t gone to jail. Sadness filled him then as he thought of Giselle dying before he could show her he meant his declaration of love.