On the Fence

 

The Chance City Series Book Two

 

 

Robin Deeter

 

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all you brave readers who continue to accompany me on this adventure. We still have new characters to meet, exciting events to share, and new places to explore together. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, your faith, friendship, and kindness are so very appreciated. Happy reading!

Other books by Robin Deeter

 

 

Chance City Beginnings

(Prequels to Chance City Series)

 

Part One

Part Two

 

Chance City Series

 

Mail Order Mystery

Mail Order Mystery Audio Book

Mail Order Mystery Print Book

On the Fence

Crossroads

Gray Justice

When the Thunder Rolls

And the Lightning Strikes

A Very Decker Christmas

 

 

The Paha Sapa Saga

 

Sacrifice and Reward

Sacrifice and Reward Audio Book

Sacrifice and Reward Print Book

Winter Moon

The Bear, Part One

The Bear, Part Two

The Phantom Horse Bridge Series

 

Phantom Origins Book 0

Phantom Heat

 

Wolf Junction Series

 

Silver Bell Shifter

 

Chapter One

 

 

The Greyhound streaked down an alley between two buildings in hot pursuit of its prey; a pickpocket whom Det. Cyrus Decker and Deputy Brock Guthrie had been trying to catch for two weeks. Their co-worker, Deputy Ellie Jeffries, had gone undercover as an old lady that day, and the crook had taken the bait.

Cy, as he was called by most people, whistled to his dog, Slink, and the Greyhound surged ahead, catching up to the thief in seconds. He cut to the right and nipped at the pickpocket’s heels, tripping the man, who went down hard. Rolling over, the man was instantly covered with doggie kisses as Slink wagged his tail.

Laughing, the crook pushed Slink aside and attempted to run again, but he halted when he came face-to-face with another dog. The huge German Shepherd-Husky mix didn’t share Slink’s view that this was playtime. Instead, he bared his wicked fangs and let out a low, rumbling growl, making it clear that he was dead serious about the pickpocket remaining still.

At a different whistle from Cy, Slink backed off and sat down.

Brock, a broad-shouldered, blond man, came up behind the other dog with a big grin on his face. “Good boy, Burt.”

Other than flicking his ears back, Burt didn’t pay him any mind, intent on his job. He didn’t let down his guard for a second and barked when the robber moved. Brock stepped around Burt and hauled the guy to his feet.

“Guess what, jackass? You’re under arrest for theft,” Brock said as Cy reached them.

Cy gave Burt a hand signal. Burt sat down, but he kept a watchful eye on the criminal, whom Brock handcuffed.

The thief sneered at them. “Using dogs. Isn’t that cheating or something?”

Cy grinned. “No, that’s called good police work.”

Brock nodded in Cy’s direction. “We don’t agree on a whole lot, but he’s right. Let’s go.”

Heavy panting drew their attention to the mouth of the alley. A black Pug raced towards them, his pink tongue protruding from his open mouth as he ran.

“Told you he’d find us,” Cy said.

Brock smirked at him. “Don’t be so damn cocky.”

“I’m not. I just know my dogs, that’s all. Good boy, Pudge.”

Pudge danced around a little and then bit the crook on the ankle.

“Ow! What did he do that for?” the guy complained, sidestepping the little dog.

Cy and Brock laughed.

“For good measure,” Cy said. “Knock it off, Pudge.”

Pudge sneezed an affirmative response. Cy praised the other dogs and gave them each a little piece of wasna. His uncle, Cotton Lone Wolf, was a Comanche man who still made the Indian staple, and Cy always kept it on hand as a reward for his dogs.

As they walked out to the main street, Pudge ran ahead of them, performing pirouettes on his hind legs.

Brock grinned. “He’s really putting on a good show.”

“Yeah, but he’s not getting any more treats right now. Enough, Pudge.”

Pudge dropped to all fours and silently regarded them with his big, dark eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Cy said.

Pudge let out an irritated growl.

Cy pointed at him. “No backtalk.”

Brock hid a smile when Pudge turned his back on them and trotted away. Pudge was smart enough to know that when someone smiled or laughed at him that they weren’t serious about a command they’d just given. Although he didn’t like Cy much, Brock loved Cy’s dogs, and he never interfered with their training.

He was surprised to see a smile tug at Cy’s mouth, too.

Cy shrugged at his questioning look, humor gleaming in his dark eyes. “I’m just as susceptible as you to how cute he is. I just hide it better, that’s all.”

Brock shook his head and marched their prisoner forward.

 

 

Sitting at his desk a short time later, Brock worked on a report on the apprehension of the pickpocket, but he was distracted by images of a gorgeous, dark-haired woman with exotic brown eyes and soft lips. Cy’s sister, Daphne, captured his attention every time she was around, and his thoughts were on her much of the time.

Her beauty, intelligence, and kindness called to him. She’d made her feelings for him clear when she’d kissed him in September. It was almost November, and the memory of that kiss hadn’t dimmed in Brock’s mind one little bit. She’d accused him of being racist, and he knew she was right. The murder of his beloved grandfather by some Comanche braves had instilled a deep hatred of Indians in his heart. As a child, he’d witnessed the attack, and he’d never gotten over it.

That hatred was one of the reasons he barely tolerated Cy. He also resented Cy because their boss, Sheriff Rob Anderson, thought the department needed Cy on their staff, as though Brock and the other deputies couldn’t handle crime on their own. Cy seemed to believe he had the right to issue orders to his co-workers, which grated on Brock’s nerves.

All this fueled the animosity between the two men. However, since they’d made a truce in September, it hadn’t been as strong. They were learning how to work together, but still butted heads. Brock had developed a grudging respect for Cy and Cy gave Brock credit for his solid investigative methods and excellent photography skills.

Brock sighed and forced his mind back to his report, propping his feet up on his desk and getting down to business. Ellie Jeffries came in the door as he finished up.

He smiled at the petite brunette. “Well, I see that you’re back to your normal self.”

Ellie nodded. “And glad of it. I don’t know how actors stay in those getups all night. I was glad to get that wig off, too. It might be cold out, but I was hotter than blazes in it.”

Brock grinned. “But you did make a very pretty old lady.”

Ellie laughed and hung up her woolen coat. “Thanks. I’m glad you nabbed him, so I don’t have to keep dressing up like that.”

Brock put his report in a file folder and got up. “I’m glad we got him, too. He’s not cooperating much, though. Walt Gaines is supposed to stop by to talk to him.”

Ellie groaned. “Oh, no. Not Walt.”

Brock chuckled. “What’s the matter? Don’t wanna see the man who’s in love with you?”

Ellie wanted to punch Brock. “No, I don’t. How many times do I have to tell him that I’m not interested?”

Crossing to a filing cabinet, Brock said, “I’m guessing a whole heap more. What’s so wrong with Walt? He seems like a nice enough fella.”

“Too nice. I can’t make him mad. I’ve tried.”

Brock put the file and gave her a confused look. “So, you prefer bad-tempered men?”

Ellie flopped down in her chair. “Of course not.”

Brock sat on a corner of her desk. “You’re pining for me, aren’t you?”

Ellie chuckled. “Yes, Brock. You found me out. No, only one woman is pining over you, and she’s related to your arch enemy.”

Frowning at her mocking tone, Brock moved away from her desk and put on his coat.

“What’s the matter, Brock? Don’t like the truth?” Ellie asked. “You know you’re a horse’s ass for not calling on her. Happiness is right at your fingertips, but you won’t take a risk, will you?”

Brock jammed his hat on his head. “I’m going out on patrol.”

He went out of the door but didn’t get very far before an idea occurred to him. Going back inside, he strode over to Ellie’s desk.

“Yeah?” She eyed him quizzically.

“I’ll tell you what; I’ll call on Daphne if you let Walt take you out. If I must take a risk, so do you,” Brock challenged.

Ellie mulled it over. She liked Daphne and thought that she and Brock would be a good match if Brock could get over his aversion to Indians. Going out with Walt was a small price to pay if it helped two people take a chance on love.

She stuck her hand out. “Deal. Shake on it.”

Brock’s eyebrows shot up. He’d expected her to refuse. However, there was no way to back out of his proposal, so he shook her hand. Showing much more confidence than he felt, he went out the door again, cursing his pride and big mouth.

 

 

“Well, there comes one of our fine deputies,” Sandy Hopper, owner of the Chowhound Saloon quipped.

Brock smiled. “Hi, Sandy. How’s business?”

She poured him a beer and sat it on the bar. “Booming, which you already know.”

Brock sat on one of the bar stools. “Yeah. I do. How’s Betty doing? She feel any better?”

Sandy’s brown eyes filled with concern over the mention of one of her saloon girls. “Not really. Damn flu won’t let up.”

Brock frowned as he took a sip of beer. “I guess it’s stronger this year. Be careful you don’t get it.”

Sandy nodded. “I got a strong constitution. Don’t worry about me. So, when are you gonna get smart and let me take you in the back?”

Brock laughed. “Sandy, I don’t think I could handle a woman like you.”

“A woman like me? What’s that mean?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I hear that you like to saddle your men and put the spurs to them.”

Sandy gave a delighted laugh. “You heard right, honey!”

Grinning, Brock said, “I knew it wasn’t just a rumor. I’ll bet you keep Jim busy.”

She gave him a saucy wink. “Whatever makes you think that?”

“Call it a hunch. What’s for lunch?”

“Pot roast.”

“Sounds good,” Brock said. “Let me ask you a question.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

Brock looked around the place as he thought about how to frame the question. While the Chowhound was an attractive establishment, it wasn’t showy. Oak wainscoting ran halfway up the walls, and gold-and-cream wallpaper filled the space between it and the ceiling, which consisted of large, polished oak beams.

A large fireplace stood on the outside wall while a small stage was situated on the opposite side of the room. Sandy kept the barroom clean along with the bar area itself. Although she wore trousers and blouses instead of dresses and skirts, Sandy was a fastidious person, who often chastised patrons for being too messy.

The private rooms where her girls entertained men were also clean. The girls who rented the rooms were required to keep them that way. Everyone knew about the operation, including Chance City’s law enforcement staff. However, they viewed it as the lesser of two evils, the worst one being a bunch of drunk men wandering the streets looking for female company.

Sandy and her companion, Jim, ran an orderly saloon and took good care of their girls. The couple insisted on regular medical care for the prostitutes and gave them decent food to eat. Without Sandy and Jim, many of the women who worked there wouldn’t have a roof over their heads or any money.

Sheriff Rob Anderson wasn’t blind concerning the Chowhound, but a lot of important council members and other officials frequented it and attempting to put it out of business wouldn’t get him or his staff anywhere except fired.

Sandy and Benny McFarland, owner of Big Benny’s Saloon, had an unofficial partnership, and they shared information about patrons with the law enforcement staff, who frequented both establishments.

“I ain’t gettin’ any younger, Brock. What’s your question?” Sandy prompted.

“Am I crazy for wanting to see Daphne even though Cy and I hate each other?”

Sandy was aware of the contentious relationship between the lawmen.

She said, “Well, I don’t think you’re crazy, but you’ll need to decide whether courting her is worth putting up with Cy. Plus, you hate the Comanche. Daphne’s part Comanche. Oh, and don’t forget that the rest of her family hates you, except Cotton. How bad do you wanna see her?”

Brock took another swig of beer. “I can’t get her out of my head, so I guess pretty bad.”

Sandy nodded sagely. “You know Daphne’s not going move out of her family’s home. Are you going to be able to live under the same roof as Cy? I know one man who wouldn’t care where he lived as long as he could be with her.”

Brock’s thoughtful expression darkened into a scowl. “You mean Benny. I know that he’s sweet on her.”

“You hit the nail on the head. He flirts with her, but he’s been a gentleman and hasn’t gotten serious about pursuing her because he knows that she’s been waiting for you to make a move,” Sandy said. “He’s not gonna wait forever, though. So, you’d better hurry up and make up your mind. I’ll be back with your lunch.”

Brock nodded as Sandy walked away, his mind already working on the situation.

 

Chapter Two

 

When faced with a problem, Ellie met it head-on instead of going out around it. Sometimes this involved using deception and her feminine wiles, and other times, it meant throwing her authority as a deputy around. Brock wasn’t the only one who was having second thoughts about the deal they’d made. Her reluctance annoyed her, though, and she told herself that she was being silly.

The defense attorney was kind, intelligent, and even-tempered. He was attractive but in a shabby, aw-shucks sort of way. She’d heard that he became a completely different person in court, but she’d never seen him in that capacity. Ellie couldn’t say why she was opposed to having Walt call on her, but something about him bothered her.

So, when he walked in with his big, battered briefcase and a smile on his face, she frowned a little. If he noticed, Walt didn’t show it.

“Hello, Miss Ellie,” he said in his soft Irish accent.

“Hi, Walt. Your client is ready for you. It’s pretty cut-and-dried, though.”

“Say no more.” Walt’s hazel eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “I never like to have a preconceived notion about a client.”

Ellie nodded. “All right. I’ll bring him into the interrogation room.”

Walt watched her walk away, taking in her fine, petite form in the trousers she wore. Taking a deep breath, he forced his mind back to the matter at hand and went into the interrogation room. Ellie entered with his client just as he was sitting down.

“Here he is. Good luck,” she said. “He won’t talk.”

Walt smiled. “Thanks.”

He knew that would change as soon as she left the room. It always did with criminals. True to form, she’d no sooner left the room before the crook leaned forward and whispered that he didn’t do it. Walt nodded, pretended to take notes, and made sympathetic responses, but he’d made up his mind about the client’s guilt after the first few sentences out of the miscreant’s mouth.

Walt was happy to let the man go on about his poor family and bad upbringing, things that had no bearing on the case. After twenty minutes, Walt informed the thief that he had all the information he needed and that he’d see him on the day of the trial, which was set for the next week. They shook hands, and Walt tapped on the door for Ellie to collect the prisoner.

Usually, Walt would have stuck around a little to invite Ellie to dinner, but he was somewhat distracted that day. As she came out of the cell area down the hall, Walt gave her a jaunty wave goodbye and headed for the door.

Ellie was tempted just to let him go, but a deal was a deal, and she’d rather get her part of it over with.

“Walt, wait!” she called.

Surprised, Walt spun around, almost dropping his briefcase. “Did ya need somethin’ then?”

Ellie was usually confident around men, but not when it came to Walt. She ran her eyes over his tall form and up to his bright hazel eyes. His dark brown hair was always tousled, giving him a slightly harried look, and he rarely looked like he’d shaven. It was hard to get a fix on his build because of his rumpled, ill-fitting clothes.

“Well, I was thinking about your last dinner invitation and thought, what the heck? What could it hurt?” she responded, cringing inwardly at the brusque statement. “That didn’t come out right. What I meant was that I’d very much like to dine with you.”

Walt smiled. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. A very pleasant one. When does it suit ya?” It was hard to contain his excitement, but he managed it.

“How about tomorrow night? Is that too short notice?”

“Not at all. Will seven be all right?”

“That’ll be fine,” she said.

Walt nodded. “Good. I’ll come for ya then. I know where ya live.”

Ellie blinked a couple of times. “You do?”

“Aye. I know where all the law enforcement staff live. I never know when I might need one of ya,” Walt said. “Well, have a good day. I’m lookin’ forward to our evenin’.”

Ellie forced herself to say, “Me, too. See ya then.”

Walt waited until he was well away from the sheriff’s office before allowing himself to grin like an idiot.

 

 

 

When Brock returned to the sheriff’s office, he was dismayed to learn that Ellie had already made good on her promise to let Walt take her out.

She sent him a saccharine smile as he sat down at his desk. “Your turn.”

He frowned. “Shut up. I’m working on it. I can’t help it that I haven’t seen Daphne yet. So how is old Gainsey?”

Ellie said, “He’s not old. Come to think of it; I don’t know how old he is. I’m guessing about thirty or thereabouts. Do you know how old he is?”

Brock laughed. “No, but I’m not surprised. No one knows a whole lot about him. I guess he’s lived around here about five years or so.”

“How’d he become a lawyer?”

“You’ll have to ask him because I have no idea,” Brock said. “I’ll be interested to hear about how things went. Where’s Cy?”

“In his office,” Ellie replied. “He’s brooding about the Clifford case. Best let him be. You know how he gets when he’s like that.”

Brock let out a short hum of understanding and took out a small notepad. He quickly wrote something on it, ripped it off, and pulled out an envelope from a desk drawer. Tucking the paper inside it, he sealed it shut, and wrote on it. Ellie was nosy and tried to see what he’d written, but her desk was too far away from his.

Brock caught her watching him. “I’ll be right back, Miss Busybody.”

“Just a little hint?” Ellie coaxed.

“Nope,” Brock said, grinning before he went through the kitchen and out the back door.

 

Pudge sat on Cy’s desk, looking out the window, his big, dark eyes taking in the scenery outside. Cy smiled at the intense look on the pug’s face as he sketched him. Drawing often helped Cy work through tough cases, and Pudge was always a willing model.

Suddenly, Pudge yipped and jumped off the desk, scattering papers and knocking Cy’s cup of coffee over in his haste to get to the door. Pudge barked and pranced while Cy swore and rushed to mop up the mess before the coffee destroyed too many papers.

The door to the old shed that Cy had confiscated opened and Brock came inside, shutting the door quickly against the brisk wind. A scratch at the door made Brock back up and reopen the door. Slink, and Burt crowded into what Brock had dubbed the Dog House.

Cy looked at Brock. “What?”

This was how he usually greeted Brock.

Brock looked at Slink. “I see that Rob’s wife made Slink another sweater.”

Slink nudged Brock’s hand, wanting to be petted. Cy grunted as his gaze traveled over the gray and white garment with disapproval.

“I keep telling her that he’s fine without it, but she has it in her head that he’s too skinny to be able to keep warm,” Cy said.

“Well, to be fair, the poor dog doesn’t have very thick fur,” Brock said. “What’s the harm in him wearing a sweater?”

“The problem is that it makes it easier for someone to get a hold of him and hurt him,” Cy said. “It also increases the risk of him getting caught on something. If we’re out in the field and he has one on, I’m not gonna have time to stop and take it off.”

Brock accepted a kiss on his cheek from Slink. “Oh. I never thought about that.”

Cy said, “The first rule to working with dogs is to always minimize the danger to them. That’s why I’m the only one who feeds them. If they get used to accepting food from other people, it makes it easy for someone to poison them.”

“Okay, okay,” Brock said. “I didn’t come out here for a dog training lesson. Give this to Daphne.”

Cy took the envelope, read his sister’s name, and narrowed his eyes at Brock. “What is it?”

“It’s a note. Don’t read it. Any breakthroughs on the Clifford case?”

Cy sat down in his chair and motioned to the other one. “Might as well walk through it together and see what we come up with.”

Putting on the professional persona he used around Cy, Brock sat and prepared for a round of the back and forth brainstorming that he and Cy had developed. They might not like each other much personally, but they worked well professionally. By the time a half an hour had passed, they’d come up with another couple of leads to check out.

When Brock got up to leave, Cy tapped the envelope Brock had given him. “Am I gonna like this?”

Brock’s face relaxed into a devilish grin. “Nope.”

Cy wanted to throw something at Brock’s back as he left his office.

 

 

Daphne washed the supper dishes while her cousin, Johnny, dried. He usually offered, and she was glad because he provided a pleasant diversion from her sometimes-depressing thoughts.

“I can’t believe we had two calves born on the same day,” he said as she handed him another dish to dry. “One Hereford and one Longhorn. And our Holstein pair will be here next week, too. Things are moving along. Leigh’s a genius.”

Daphne laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a crush on her the way you go on about her.”

Johnny’s blue eyes sparkled as he blushed. “Naw, but she is a beautiful woman. Cy’s a lucky man. I just appreciate her smarts, that’s all. Plus, she’s so nice.”

“Yes, Leigh is a good woman, and the smartest thing Cy ever did was marrying her.” Daphne tried to ignore the pinprick of jealousy to her heart.

“Yep.”

Daphne said, “When we’re done here, I want you to try on those shirts I made for you.”

“Okay. I’ll give you money for the material.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Johnny said, “Yeah, it is. I got some money now since I’ve been making stuff for folks, and material ain’t cheap. I don’t want you and Cy to keep buying things for me. It ain’t right.”

“Johnny, you know that we don’t mind. You’ve had a hard time of it. Besides, you built that beautiful arch for the driveway, and you’ve been making all kinds of repairs around here. The porch looks great, by the way,” Daphne said.

He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do since you and Cy have been so good to me. But it’s time for me to start making my own way. A man has to stand on his own two feet, Daphne.”

Daphne smiled. She’d never tell him since men didn’t like to be called adorable, but he was. With his messy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and dimples, Johnny was the sort of man that many girls went for. He was always respectful of women and did anything he was asked without complaint.

Over the year that he’d been with her and Cy, he’d filled out and lost some of his boyishness. His face was a little more chiseled, and his shoulders had broadened. However, he’d kept his sweet, affable personality.

“I’m very proud of you for working so hard,” Daphne remarked.

“Thanks.”

The rapid pitter-patter of dog paws sounded on the stairs, and their collie pup, Queenie, came barreling into the kitchen, barking up a storm. She went to the door, pawing at it.

Johnny said, “Cy must be home. She only goes crazy like that when him and the rest come along.”

Daphne dried her hands and opened the kitchen door. Queenie ran outside, making a beeline for the barn. Before long, her brother strode in the door.

“Hi,” he said. “How are you guys?”

“We’re fine,” Daphne said. “You look tired.”

“No more than usual,” he said. “Here. This is for you.”

Daphne took the envelope he handed her. She read annoyance and curiosity in his expression before seeing her name on the front of it. “Who is it from?”

Cy’s expression soured. “Brock.”

Hope flashed in Daphne’s heart, but she kept calm as she opened the envelope and took out the note.

 

Daphne,

 

I can’t get you out of my mind. Will you join me for dinner tomorrow night? Let Cy know your answer. If it’s yes, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven unless an emergency comes up. I’ll pray real hard that it doesn’t.

 

Brock

 

Daphne couldn’t stop the big smile that lit up her face. “He wants to have dinner tomorrow night.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t believe it. After all this time.”

Cy grunted and hung up his coat and hat.

Daphne said, “I don’t care if you like it or not, Cy. Don’t begrudge me happiness.”

Cy faced her again. “I’m not. I just don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t understand why he wants to see you since you’re part Comanche. He’s always hated us because of our heritage.”

“Maybe he’s coming around,” Daphne said. “I’m a grown woman, Cy. I’m willing to take a chance.”

Cy arched a brow, conveying his doubt. “I don’t understand what you see in him. Can you answer me that?”

Daphne met his gaze. “I think there’s a lot more to Brock than what you see.”

“I see too much of him,” Cy said. “Now I have to see him outside of work, too.”

Johnny frowned. “This isn’t about you, Cy. This is about something that makes Daphne happy. Besides, it’s none of your business if Brock courts her.”

Cy’s eyes widened. Johnny didn’t usually take sides when he and Daphne argued. “Do you like Brock?”

Johnny shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to know if I do or not. Just because you don’t get along with him doesn’t mean that other people don’t.”

Cy knew he wasn’t going to change Daphne’s mind about seeing Brock, so he dropped the subject in favor of a much more pleasant one. “Where’s my wife?”

“At Cotton’s,” Daphne said.

“It’s dark out.” Cy stepped over to the sink to wash up.

Daphne chuckled. “Your wife will be fine. Now sit down and eat your supper.”

Cy opened the door and let out a sharp whistle. The dogs soon ran in the door, greeting Daphne and Johnny. Cy got out their food bowls and divvied out the scraps that Daphne had put into a larger bowl for them.

He snapped his fingers. “Sit!”

All four canines dropped their haunches to the floor.

“Stay.”

Cy lined the bowls up by the far wall and walked away. “Go ahead.”

The dogs leaped for their bowls, downing half their meal before Cy had barely begun his own. Queenie finished hers and then stared at Pudge, who stood next to her. The pug glanced at her, and she whined. Cy watched with a smile as Pudge took out a piece of chicken from his bowl, put it on the floor, and nudged it over to her. Queenie gobbled it up and gave Pudge’s ear a couple of licks in thanks.

Johnny laughed. “Pudge is a ladies’ man. One of these days we’ll have little Pollies or Cugs. What would you call them?”

“Ugly,” Cy responded.

Daphne swatted his shoulder. “That’s not nice.”

“But it’s true,” Cy said. “Can you imagine a long-haired Pudge or a short Collie?”

Daphne laughed as she pictured that. “I’m not sure what you’d use a dog like that for, but knowing you, you’d find something.”

Cy grinned. “Well, we’re not gonna find out. I’ll find a suitable stud Collie when the time is right.”

Johnny said, “You’d better make sure Pudge isn’t around when that other dog is. He’ll fight for his lady.”

Though Pudge was small, he was solid muscle and fearless around other animals. He’d chased horses, dogs, cats, and once had even gone after a coyote. His size didn’t deter him from fighting any perceived enemy.

Johnny said, “Well, I’ll see you in the morning. I’m gonna go work on that sign I’m making for Mr. Skyler. I told him I’d have it for him by the end of the week.”

Daphne said, “Don’t be up too late.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny said. “Goodnight.”

Cy lifted his hand in response as his cousin went out the door.

Daphne said, “Goodnight. I’m going to bed a little early. Tell Brock that I said yes.”

Knowing it was useless to try to change her mind, Cy said, “Okay. Night.”

Daphne took the note Brock had sent and went upstairs, her happiness too strong to be dimmed by Cy’s disapproval.

 

Chapter Three

 

Leigh put her horse, Cutter, away and gave him a little bit of sweet feed as a treat before going into the house. It was dark downstairs, and she figured that Daphne had already gone to bed. Cy’s horse was in the barn, so she knew that he was home. Leigh hung up her coat and hat and took off her boots before mounting the stairs.

Just as she passed the washroom, someone grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over her mouth and pulling her roughly against them.

“Do I need to be jealous of you and Cotton?” Cy growled in her ear.

His warm breath grazed her skin, and her pulse jumped in response. His free hand traveled up over her midriff to cup her breast. Heat pooled inside when his thumb stroked over her nipple, and she swallowed a moan as it tightened. Smiling against his palm, she shook her head.

Cy laughed softly, kissed her cheek, and released her. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He practically dragged her into their room and shut the door. Leigh saw that he’d been reading one of his law journals. He was always reading up on new investigative and forensic techniques. She also noted that he was shirtless, revealing his muscular torso and arms.

She looped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Hello, Detective.”

His short beard and mustache were pleasantly scratchy. She hadn’t been sure at first that she would like him with a beard, but she had to admit that it looked good on him. Cy had told her that he often grew one for the winter. Unlike his cousins, who seemed to have inherited more Comanche traits than he had, Cy was able to grow a beard, and a fine matting of short, dark hair covered his chest.

“Hello, honey. Did you have a good day?”

“Two calves were born, and they’re healthy, so I’d call that a good day.”

Cy leaned forward, buried his face against her neck, and inhaled her scent. She smelled of horses, hay, and Leigh; a combination that drove him crazy. “Good. We need healthy calves. Which kinds?”

“Hereford and Longhorn.”

When Cy’s teeth scored the sensitive skin near her ear, Leigh couldn’t hold back a moan. His hands traveled down her back to cup her rear end, giving it a playful squeeze.

She squealed a little, and he laughed.

“I keep telling you that that tickles.”

“And I keep telling you that I do it because I like hearing you make that sound.”

The heat in his gaze made her temperature rise. “Shut up,” she said, pressing her mouth to his.

Cy chuckled against her lips and then sucked in a breath when he felt Leigh’s fingers skim over his stomach before going to his trouser buttons. She took advantage and deepened the kiss. He tasted of beer and some sort of dessert. They weren’t two flavors that usually went together, but everything tasted good on Cy.

While she worked on his pants, he unbuttoned her blouse. After a few moments, Cy broke the kiss so he could see what he uncovered as he parted the garment. “You’re so beautiful.” He grazed the backs of his fingers down over her camisole and brassiere. His blood heated in anticipation of caressing and tasting her full breasts. “I have to be the luckiest man on Earth.”

Leigh’s cheeks flushed, and she smiled. “Are you going to stare all night or actually do something?”

Cy just laughed at Leigh’s blunt question. It was her way of deflecting her shyness over his compliments. His wife was a passionate lover, but his words of appreciation brought out Leigh’s bashful side. He helped strip her remaining garments from her delectable body and buried his hands in her silky, honey-brown hair. Their naked bodies coming into contact set off a red-hot flare of desire in Cy.

Leigh moaned as she felt his stiffening shaft brush against her stomach. She slid her hands down his powerful chest to take him in her palm. Everything about her husband was gorgeous, including that part of him. As his lips trailed kisses down her neck, she thought how different Cy’s lovemaking was from her first husband. Cy was a more demanding lover, but Leigh still felt his love for her in every kiss and touch.

He picked her up, laid her on the bed, and stretched out next to her. Leigh sighed and closed her eyes as Cy’s hands roamed over her. He cupped a breast and closed his mouth around her nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth. Leigh arched her back and squeezed his bicep when he flicked his tongue over the tight peak.

Cy loved the way Leigh sounded and tasted. No other woman had ever excited him the way she did. She was everything wrapped up in the most delicious package. Intelligent, kind, strong, and so beautiful that it made him ache with longing. He controlled himself for as long as possible before his restraint snapped.

Leigh’s ardor had reached the same fever-pitch, and she parted her thighs in a wanton invitation. His dark eyes gleaming with a heat that rivaled the sun, Cy rose over her and settled his lean hips between her legs. With a wicked smile, Leigh reached between them and guided his hard member to her entrance.

Her lips parted, and she moaned as he filled her. Hooking a hand around the back of his neck, Leigh pulled him down so she could kiss him. He answered her demand with a groan and almost devoured her mouth, his warm tongue gliding against hers in small, fast motions that mimicked what was about to occur. Unable to hold still, Leigh writhed under Cy, conveying her urgent need for fulfillment.

Cy’s swift thrust was exactly what she wanted, what she craved, and she locked her legs around his waist. She chuckled when he bit her right earlobe and then let out a whimper when he drew back and surged into a rapid, powerful rhythm.

Relishing the pleasure he brought her, Leigh ran her palms over his strong back, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he made love to her with an intensity that made coherent thought impossible. His hot gaze trapped hers and it excited her even more as he took her toward the brink. The first pulses of Leigh’s climax grew into a sharp crescendo, and Cy muffled her cry of bliss with his mouth, swallowing the loud sound as she shuddered underneath him.

With a primal growl, Cy broke the kiss and resumed his previous pace. He wanted to see and feel her reach another peak. Her satisfaction was paramount to him, and his wife was stunning in the throes of passion. When she smiled and gripped his buttocks, Cy gladly gave her what she wanted. Their blazing tempo drove them toward their mutual goal. Cy balled his hands in the sheet as he held back, determined not to leave Leigh behind.

It amazed Leigh how Cy always timed it right and now was no exception. Her fingers dug into the firm flesh of his back as another rapturous wave of bliss crashed over her. She was helpless to do anything but hang onto him as it flowed through her with a ferocity that left her panting.

A blinding release seized Cy, as he sank into Leigh’s tight sheath one last time. Ecstasy suffused his body, freezing him in place. It was in those intense moments of passion that Cy felt more than their bodies unite. Their souls brushed, clung, and merged into one entity. That magical bond strengthened every time they became lost in each other’s arms.

As the ecstasy ebbed and Cy eased his body down on top of her, Leigh gladly took his weight. She caressed his broad shoulders as their breathing and heartbeats slowed from a gallop to a walk. Meeting Cy’s heavy-lidded gaze, Leigh added another prayer to all the others that she’d just made a baby with the man of her heart.

His answering love shone in his beautiful dark eyes. They spoke volumes, conveying his feelings for her as much as words would have. She kissed his cheek and smiled, knowing what was coming next.

Before they’d gotten married, Cy had told her that he became chatty after lovemaking. She hadn’t believed it about the reticent lawman, but he’d proven her wrong. It was as though the physical release also freed his thoughts, and they often poured out in a steady stream as they lay together.

Cy carefully rolled away from Leigh, bringing her with him so that he could hold her.

He blew out a breath. “Damn, Leigh. You’re incredible.”

She kissed his chest. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Leigh smiled when he kissed her forehead and then released a heavy sigh. “Oh, boy. I know that sound. What’s wrong?”

“Brock asked Daphne to dinner.”

Leigh raised her head to meet his gaze. “He didn’t!”

Cy’s jaw clenched for a moment. “I wish he hadn’t.”

“That’s great!”

“Whose side are you on?”

Leigh smiled. “Hers. She’s been hoping so hard. I’m happy for her.”

“It’s a disaster waiting to happen,” Cy said. “He can’t stand anything to do with Indians and Daphne’s part Comanche. Plus, he hates our family. Yep, he’s gonna break her heart, and then I’m gonna have to break his face.”

“You don’t know that. Besides, it’s Daphne’s heart, and if she wants to take a risk, then no one has any business interfering, Cy,” Leigh said. “Love can do wonderful things. Maybe he’ll see that not all Indians are bad.”

The way Cy shifted conveyed his doubt.

“Cy, you listen to me. Don’t you go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Leigh ordered.

“How am I supposed to do that? I work with him, and she’s my sister! I love her, and I don’t want her to get hurt,” Cy said.

“Neither do I, but you can’t fight her battles for her. Besides, you want her to be happy, don’t you?”

He grunted in the affirmative.

“Then, you’re going to have to accept that Brock makes her happy.”

Cy scowled at her. “You know, it’s really annoying when you’re so reasonable. I hate it when you’re right, too.”

Leigh laughed and slid on top of him. “I’ll take your mind off how annoying I am.”

He smiled when she bit his earlobe. “I don’t wanna.”

Her giggle made him grin. “Liar.”

Cy wrapped his arms around her, unable to resist his wife’s charms. “Okay, but you’d better make it worth my while.”

“Hush,” she said against his mouth. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk.”

“Promises, promises.”

She kissed him and made good on that promise.

 

Chapter Four

 

As he rode up to Silver’s Mercantile the next day, Johnny’s heart sank at the sight of the Silver triplets standing outside. He’d come to buy some nails and sandpaper. For a moment, he considered going on by and stopping back later, but he was pressed for time and didn’t have all day to mess around.

The triplets were all beautiful young women with dark hair and blue eyes, and they never lacked for male attention. The trouble was that they were all sweet on Johnny, and he didn’t want to cause discord between the siblings by choosing one or the other. Sometimes it was exhausting attempting to turn down their advances without ruffling feathers.

Steeling himself against what was coming, Johnny dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post outside the store and approached it. He respectfully removed his hat as he neared the sisters. Their pretty faces lit up when they caught sight of him. He was glad they all wore different dresses under their black cloaks, but he still had trouble telling them apart.

“Well, there’s that handsome Johnny,” one of them said.

Hoping he was right, Johnny said, “Thanks, Heidi. You’re all looking pretty today, not that you don’t every day, of course.”

Heidi smiled. “Aren’t you the flatterer? What brings you to our store?”

Her sister, Joanie, piped up. “Yes, is there something we can help you find?”

Being escorted through the store by the three of them was a daunting prospect. “No, no. That’s not necessary. I’m just here to buy some nails and sandpaper. I appreciate your kind offer, though.”

“If you do need anything, anything at all, you just let me know,” Georgia, the third and boldest sister said, her meaning plain as day.

Johnny pretended not to catch it. “Much obliged. Well, I’d best get to it and get back to work.”

“So soon?” Heidi said. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to tea after church on Sunday.”

Georgia said, “Johnny doesn’t go to church, Heidi.”

“That doesn’t mean that he can’t come afterward,” Heidi responded.

Joanie eyed Johnny. “You could come and sit by me.”

Oh, good Lord. Johnny said, “Well, I appreciate the invite, but I just can’t.”

“Why not?” Joanie asked, giving him a come-hither look.

He swallowed hard. If only there were just one of them. Finally fed up, Johnny squared his shoulders and said, “Ladies, the truth is that I just can’t make up my mind between you all, and I don’t reckon I ever will. You’re all just too beautiful and have such sweet dispositions that it makes it real hard for a man to choose. It’s plain how much you all think of me, and I’m truly honored, but even if I could just pick one of you, I’d hate to cause strife between you.”

The sisters pouted, but they appreciated his honesty.

“You’re a true gentleman, Johnny,” Heidi said.

Georgia sighed then brightened. “I know! You could spend some time alone with each one of us and then decide who you like best. And we wouldn’t get mad if we weren’t the one you picked. We might not like it, but we wouldn’t hold it against one another, would we, girls?”

Heidi and Joanie hastily agreed.

“So, you come after church on Sunday to have dinner with us, and then you and I can spend a little time together,” Georgia said. “I go first because I’m the one who thought of the idea.”

Johnny’s shoulders slumped. He should have kept his mouth shut and just gone on his way. “Well, you’d better check with your folks about it. I don’t think they’ll like that idea too much.”

Heidi said, “Don’t worry about that. We can handle them.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. “Um, well, I’m sorry, ladies, I just—”

“Johnny!”

Johnny was never so glad to hear his best friend’s voice as he was right then. He turned to see Ray Stratton riding up to the store.

“There you are!” Ray said, jumping down from his horse. Touching the brim of his expensive black Stetson, he said, “Ladies, I hope you don’t mind if I borrow my buddy here. I have important business to discuss with him.”

Ignoring the sisters’ protests, Ray hauled Johnny into the store with him.

“That was rude, but God bless you,” Johnny said.

Ray grinned, his gray eyes gleaming. “Saved you in the nick of time, huh?”

Johnny nodded. “You don’t know the half of it. They’ve cooked up some cockamamie idea about me spending time with each of them so I could make up my mind which one I like the best.”

Ray laughed. “You oughta just take them all at once, Johnny. Then you could decide and save some time in the process. That’s what I’d do.”

Johnny colored at Ray’s ribald remark. “You might be able to do that, but I can’t. I wasn’t raised that way.”

“You gotta quit that good boy stuff, Johnny. That’s one of the reasons they like you so much,” Ray said. “You need to go see one of Sandy’s girls and tell everyone about it. They’re husband-hunting, and you’ve been deemed suitable by their father.”

Johnny gaped at him. “I have?”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Why else do you think he lets them stand around and talk with you, even when it’s only you and one of them?”

Johnny had never thought about it. “He doesn’t let other fellas?”

“No. Watch this.”

Johnny watched Ray go out the door and engage the triplets in conversation. They giggled at whatever he said to them. Knowing Ray, it was most likely something scandalous. In a couple of minutes, Mr. Silver went to the door and told the girls to go on home. Ray bid them a good day and then reentered the store.

“Told you,” Ray said. “You really need to pay more attention to gossip, Johnny.”

“I don’t like gossip, and I’m not gonna go see one of Sandy’s girls. Nothin’ against them, but that’s not the kind of girl I’m lookin’ for.”

Ray said, “You’re not looking for any girl at all. Why is that?”

Johnny moved off, down the aisle to where the nails were. “Because I ain’t set up for a wife yet, Ray. I live in a bunkhouse. That ain’t no place for a woman. Once I have a house of my own, then I’ll find someone.”

Ray scratched his head. “Who says you have to get married right away? Why don’t you just have some fun?”

Johnny turned to Ray, his expression stern. “I’ll tell you why. Ma and Pa ‘had some fun’ and had to get married because of me. He made her miserable every day, and I hate that I’m the reason she was bound to that son of a bitch. I’ll mourn Ma until the day I die, but I’m glad that Pa’s dead, and I hope he burns in Hell.

“So, I’m gonna work hard and make a decent living before I settle down. I want to take care of a woman the way she deserves to be. I know you don’t understand that, but I’m asking you to respect it, Ray.”

Ray ran a hand through his black hair and blew out a breath. “You never told me that before. I’m sorry. I’ll quit pestering you about women.”

“Thanks. Come up to Cotton’s tonight, but right now, I gotta get back to the ranch. Okay?”

Ray nodded. “Sure. See ya then.”

Johnny gave him a tight smile and walked down the aisle, trying to ignore the futile anger in his heart.

 

 

“You look beautiful,” Leigh said.

She’d helped Daphne choose her evening ensemble for her night out with Brock.

“I’m scared to death,” Daphne confessed. “Scared to death that he won’t show up, scared that he will, and I’ll make a fool of myself. What if Cy’s right and this is a huge mistake?”

Leigh said, “I felt the same way about coming here, but sometimes taking a risk is worth it. Besides, you’ve waited long enough to have the chance to get to know Brock better. Don’t listen to Cy. You know how men are. They’ll come around.”

Daphne smoothed down the deep blue muslin dress she wore and looked at her hair again in the mirror. “I hope so. Cy is so stubborn. I’d forgotten that about him while he was away. I sure got reminded in a hurry.”

Leigh said, “I know, but he’s got a good heart. Don’t worry. I’ll do what I can to make him see reason.”

Daphne said, “Thanks, but don’t be surprised if I cuff him upside the head once in a while.”

Leigh laughed. “That’ll be entertaining.”

“He’d better not make trouble for Brock when he comes for me, or I’ll skip the cuffing and just whack him with a frying pan.”

They laughed, and Daphne blew out the lamp in her room. When they descended the stairs, Leigh made the dogs go lie down so that they didn’t get hair all over Daphne’s dress. Cy and Johnny were finishing up the supper dishes when they came into the kitchen.

“Wow! You look like a dream!” Johnny told her.

Daphne smiled. “You think so?”

Johnny nodded as he dried a dish. “I sure do. He won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Cy wiped his hands on a towel and turned around so he could see Daphne. “Johnny’s right. You look beautiful. I hope that you have a wonderful time tonight.”

Daphne blinked a couple of times. “You do?”

Cy said, “Look, I know that Brock and I don’t get along, but I want you to be happy. And as much as I can’t stand him, if he makes you happy, I won’t stand in your way. He’d better treat you right, though, or I’ll kill him. That’s all the more I’ll say about it.”

Daphne went to him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

The dogs barked, announcing that someone had arrived. Daphne felt a little faint now that the moment had come for her to spend time with Brock alone. Her mouth went dry, and her heart fluttered inside her chest. When someone knocked on the kitchen door, she almost jumped.

Johnny rushed to answer it, and Cy shot him an annoyed glance over being beaten to the punch. The kid had the speed of a jackrabbit.

Johnny pulled the door open. “Hi, Brock. Come on in. Your lady awaits you.”

Even Cy smiled at his funny greeting.

Brock stepped into the kitchen, and Daphne was captivated by the sight of him in an elegant, black overcoat. He looked spectacular in his evening attire and had attractively combed his hair and shaved.

“Thanks, Johnny,” Brock said, his intense cobalt eyes finding Daphne right away.

Her dark brown hair that ended just below her ears gleamed like mahogany, and her large, midnight eyes were exotic and hypnotizing. The blue dress gave a hint of cleavage and molded to Daphne’s lush curves. Desire ran through Brock’s veins as his eyes traveled over her.

Cy barely kept from glowering at Brock as he greeted him. “I see that no disasters came up.”

Brock smiled, playing along. They’d already had a heated argument at work about Daphne, and they’d finally agreed that they wouldn’t upset her that evening.

“No, but even if something does come up, don’t come looking for me,” Brock said. “I’m going to be too busy dining with this gorgeous woman.”

Daphne blushed, but her eyes never left his as he came to stand before her. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

“Thanks. Are you ready?” Brock asked.

“Yes.”

Brock held out his hand for her wrap. When she gave it to him, he draped it over her shoulders, taking the opportunity to touch her lightly as he placed it.

Cy was glad to see that Brock was acting like a gentleman even if he did think that Brock took a little longer than necessary.

Johnny surprised everyone when he confronted Brock. “Now look here, you have her home at a decent hour, and you better be a gentleman tonight. Cause if I hear you weren’t, I’ll make you sorry. Do we understand each other?”

Brock arched an eyebrow at Johnny. “We do.”

Satisfied, Johnny smiled and kissed Daphne’s cheek. “Have a nice time. See you all in the morning.”

So saying, Johnny put on his coat and left. Leigh was the first one to let out a snort of laughter, followed by Daphne. Cy tried to fight it, but watching Johnny take Brock to task had been comical. He let out a laugh, and Brock stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter. Brock hadn’t heard genuine laughter from Cy before, and it was a little shocking to know the detective was capable of it.

When their mirth subsided, Brock offered an arm to Daphne. “Shall we?”

“Yes.”

Leigh and Cy wished them a good time, and they left the house. Brock helped Daphne into the buggy he’d brought and spread a heavy wool blanket over her lap.

“Thank you,” she said.

He smiled, and Daphne couldn’t look away from his vibrant eyes. Then he walked around the buggy, and she released the breath she’d been holding. Unlike the day she’d kissed him, she felt unsure and shy around him. She’d been attracted to him for so long that being with him now was overwhelming.

Brock settled on the seat next to her, acutely aware of her close proximity. Glancing at her, he caught her looking at him, and he thought there’d never been a more beautiful woman. He longed to kiss her, but it wasn’t the right time or place.

“Okay. Here we go.”

Once they were underway, Daphne said, “Brock, I don’t want to talk about Cy tonight. I just want to have a nice time and avoid any unpleasantness.”

Brock agreed. “Fine by me. I see him enough. I don’t want to talk about him, either. I’m much more interested in you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I have to ask you something, and I want you to be honest.”

He said, “Of course I’ll be honest. Go ahead.”

Daphne fiddled with the handle of her purse. “Are you able to deal with the fact that I’m part Comanche given how you feel about them?”

Brock said, “I’ve been thinking hard about that. You were right the day you came to the office. It’s been a long time since those Indians attacked us, and in my brain, I know that none of you had anything to do with that. But in my heart, it’s hard to remember that. I’m working on it, though. But where you’re concerned, you’re just a beautiful woman who happens to have Comanche heritage. I only think good things about you, Daphne.”

Happiness surged through her. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that. When you come to our powwows, you can join right in.”

Shocked, Brock could only stare at her. Daphne burst into laughter, and he realized that she’d been joking, and he laughed with her.

She put her hands over her aching stomach. “You should have seen the look on your face!”

“I can see I’m gonna have to watch out for you. Are you always this tricky?”

Her eyes glittered in the moonlight. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Brock hadn’t realized Daphne had such a playful personality. “Are you sure you and Cy are related? You sure don’t act like it.”

Daphne replied, “Cy has always been more serious than me. He has a dryer sense of humor.”

“I’ll take your word for it. That’s enough about him, though. How’s Cotton these days? Still got women lining up outside his tipi?”

Daphne shook his head. “He’ll never change. I love him, though. He’s always there when I need him. When anyone needs him, really.”

“He’s one Indian I’ve always liked.”

Daphne’s eyes widened. “Really? I didn’t know that you knew him so well.”

“He comes to Benny’s, and we play pool,” Brock said. “I don’t know how anyone couldn’t like him, Indian or not. There are just people in this world that you like right away, and he’s one of them.” His gaze lingered on her. “You must have inherited that from him.”

Daphne’s smile turned shy again. “You didn’t feel that way about me. Stop teasing me.”

“Oh, yes, I did. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. You were so pretty and sweet. What man wouldn’t be attracted to you?”

Daphne said, “I should’ve kissed you a long time ago. Then you would have called on me sooner.”

Brock smiled. “I wouldn’t have minded that a bit. Kissing pretty women is never a hardship.” He cringed inside at his stupid remark.

Daphne stifled the jealousy that knifed through her. Arching an eyebrow at him, she said, “I’ve heard that you’re very popular with the ladies, Brock. However, if things become serious between us, and you cheated on me—well, let’s just say that Comanche women are very skilled with knives. Keep that in mind.”

All traces of humor disappeared from her expression and Brock believed that she meant it. “You’re right, Daphne. I’ve never been committed to a woman, but I’ve never led anyone on, either. I don’t know where things with us will lead, but since the day you kissed me, you’ve been the only woman I’ve thought about.”

Daphne’s heart filled with joy. “Really?”

“It’s true, I swear,” Brock said. “I don’t think you’re gonna have anything to worry about, but do I have anything to worry about? I know that several fellas have taken a shine to you. You told me that yourself.”

She smiled. “You mean Benny, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but he’s not the only competition, Daphne.”

Giving him a coy look, she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He grinned. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Maybe, I do. Behave, and you won’t have anything to worry about, either.”

“Aha! Your bossy side is coming out. Now I know that you’re related to Cy,” Brock retorted.

Daphne gave him a playful shove, and all traces of her initial anxiety fled when they shared a laugh. As the horse trotted into the city, the night felt alive with magic and possibility. Daphne prayed that it would continue, hoping with all her heart that her dreams would come true.

 

Chapter Five

 

Ellie pulled her door open when Walt knocked and stood blinking up at him, thinking at first that a strange man stood on her porch.

“Good evenin’, Miss Ellie.” Walt smiled down at her.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice faint.

Although he still wore his glasses, his appearance was vastly different than usual. He wore a beautiful charcoal gray suit with a light paisley gray vest, white shirt, and a black tie. His dark hair had been tamed, and he was clean-shaven. His chiseled, angular facial features were attractive, and the tailored suit revealed that Walt was a very fit male.

Walt’s smile turned sly. “I’ve shocked ya a wee bit, haven’t I?”

“You certainly have,” she agreed. “I don’t know what to say. You should look that good every day.” Why am I suddenly putting my foot in my mouth around him? “I mean, you look very handsome.”

Her flustered state amused him. “Well, I have my reasons for that. If ya play yer cards right, I might share them with ya.”

His statement aroused her curiosity. “What’s that mean?”

Walt didn’t answer as his eyes drifted over her lovely figure. A flare of desire tightened his stomach. “Ye look lovely, lass.”

His hot gaze and the appreciation in his smooth-timbered voice made Ellie’s breath quicken. She felt like a gazelle being pursued by a hazel-eyed lion. That unsettled feeling came back, yet she found Walt fascinating. Her previous impression of Walt had been way off the mark. He seemed a trifle threatening, but instead of feeling afraid, excitement sparked within her.

“I’m glad you think so,” she said.

“Are ya ready then?”

“Oh. Yes. I’ll just get my cloak.”

Walt waited while she retrieved it and locked her front door after she came out onto the porch.

“Do ya mind walkin’?” he asked. “I spend all day cooped up in buildings, so it’s nice to be out in the fresh air and stretch my legs.”

“No. I don’t mind,” Ellie said, taking the arm he offered her.

They descended the porch steps to the street, and Walt looked back at her house. “Ye've got a nice little place.”

“Thank you. I like it. Ma and Pa don’t like me living alone, but I wanted to be independent. Plus, with my job, I didn’t want to disturb them by coming home at all hours of the day and night,” Ellie said.

“Well, that’s very considerate of ya. How’d ya convince yer father to let ya become a deputy and move away from home?”

“I had to fight him tooth-and-nail about it, but he finally realized that I was going to do it no matter what. My cousin is a deputy in Oklahoma City. When he and I were growing up, we followed all the famous lawmen in the newspapers. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I learned how to fight and all about the job. When the position opened up, I marched right into Rob’s office and told him that I was the best person for the job.”

Walt grinned. “What did he say to that?”

Ellie said, “He thought I was joking, but when he saw I was serious, he went ahead and interviewed me. A few days later, he came to my house to offer me the job. Pa almost had a conniption, but Rob promised to watch out for me, and Pa settled down. Once I had enough money saved up, I moved out. I love Pa, but he’s always trying to protect me.”

“All good fathers try to protect their daughters, Ellie.”

“I know, but when those daughters grow up, they can decide things for themselves. Women aren’t stupid, Walt,” Ellie countered.

“No one would ever accuse ya of bein’ stupid, least of all me. Yer an intelligent, beautiful woman, and I appreciate ya as such.”

“Thanks. So why did you become a lawyer?” Ellie asked.

“I’m from a long line of barristers, and I followed in my father and grandfather’s footsteps,” he said nonchalantly. “My father is actually British, but we lived in Ireland until we came to America when I was seventeen. That’s why my accent isn’t as pronounced as some Irishmen. I’ve lost it a little.”

“Do your parents live in Chance City?” she asked.

“They don’t,” Walt said. “They live in Chicago. I followed a lass here, but things didn’t work out.”

“Why not?” Ellie asked as they turned the corner onto Main Street.

“Well, ya see, I don’t like sharin’ my women with other men.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry she wasn’t faithful,” Ellie said.

“Thanks, but she did me a favor.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I met the prettiest deputy ya ever did see, and she hasn’t been out of my mind since,” Walt said, winking at her.

Ellie blushed. “Why did you keep asking me to dinner after I turned you down a couple of times?”

“Haven’t ya heard? Us Irish are stubborn, and I knew that I’d wear ya down. I figured if I annoyed ya enough, you’d give in just to get me off yer back.” He laughed at the guilty expression on her face. “But ya see, I intend to sweep ya off yer feet, Ellie, and by the time I’m done, ye’ll never want to get me off yer back.”

A shiver ran through Ellie, but it had nothing to do with the cold. It was caused by the glint of something dark that flashed in his eyes for a brief moment. Then it was gone, and he smiled, his face the one of a man happy to be with a special lady.

That little glimpse of danger should’ve deterred her from wanting to spend the evening with Walt, but instead, she felt drawn to him, and her interest in him grew. She had the feeling that there was much more to Walt than she’d ever imagined and that getting to know him might be the most exciting thing she’d ever do.

 

By the time dinner was over, Daphne felt even more as though she were in a dream. Brock was attentive, witty, and kept her entertained throughout the evening. Several people stopped by their table, and Brock introduced her to them. He was a popular, social person, which often helped him in his career.

Once they’d eaten their dessert, they departed the restaurant, getting back in his buggy.

“It got colder,” Brock remarked. “I’ll get you home so that you can get in where it’s warm.”

Daphne said, “Don’t worry about me. I have this blanket, and it was so warm in the restaurant that the air feels good.”

“Okay. I had a good time tonight,” Brock said.

“Me, too.”

Brock smiled at her. “Good enough that you’d want to do it again?”

Daphne pretended to mull it over. “I guess so.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled.”

She batted her eyelashes at him. “I mean, yes, Deputy Guthrie, I’d love to have dinner with you again!”

He laughed. “All right. Don’t overdo it.”

“You’re a hard man to please.”

Their light-hearted banter continued as he drove her home. Halfway there, they heard horses come up behind them. Brock moved over to give the riders plenty of room to go around them, but they stayed behind Brock’s buggy. A prickle of warning broke out over Brock’s shoulders.

Daphne felt Brock stiffen beside her, and she glanced back at the riders. There were four of them, and they were focused on her. She put a hand on Brock’s leg, squeezing it anxiously. He took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. A couple of the riders moved up alongside the buggy.

“Evenin’, Deputy,” one of them said. “You and the little Comanche having a good time?”

Brock bristled at the disdain in the man’s voice. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about Miss Decker that way. Don’t make trouble, either. I don’t want to have to arrest you and ruin my nice night.”

The man smiled as he scratched his scruffy chin. “Well, aren’t you the gentleman? I heard that you don’t got time for Injuns, but here you are with one. Must be because she’s a woman. Their women sure are pretty, so I can’t blame you.”

Brock wanted to punch the guy in the face, but he also wanted to kick his own ass. His well-known hatred of Indians was coming back to bite him in a huge way.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but a man can change his mind about something,” Brock said. “You’re in the presence of a lady, and I’m sure your ma taught you to respect women. Now, leave us be, fellas. Goodnight.”

He clucked to their horse, moving it into a faster trot, but the riders stuck with them. A feeling of impending doom descended on Brock again, but he didn’t let their unwanted escorts see it. His first concern was keeping Daphne safe, and he hoped that the group of men would give up their game and move on.

However, that wasn’t the case. One of them rode over in front of their horse, stopping it.

Brock said, “Fellas, you don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, I think we do,” the same man said. “Get out, Guthrie.”

Keeping a cool head, Brock said, “No. Here’s what’s gonna happen; you’re gonna get the hell out of here while you still can.”

The leader said, “There are four of us and only one of you. What are you going to do to stop us?”

Meeting each man’s eyes in turn, Brock replied, “You don’t want to find out. Now, just go on your way.”

“Get out of the buggy,” the goon repeated. “We don’t want you. We want the squaw.”

Anger filled Daphne at his use of the derogatory term. She lifted her chin and gazed back at the man with contempt in her eyes.

“Boy, look at how bold she is,” he said. “This is gonna be fun.”

“Yes, it’ll be fun to slit your throat,” Daphne said. “Us Comanche women are good with knives.”

Brock didn’t interfere. His admiration for Daphne grew. She was creating a diversion, giving him time to create a plan. It appeared that she’d learned a few things from Cy.

The men guffawed over her remarks.

“Is that right?” another man asked.

Daphne smiled at him even though she trembled inside. “It’ll be a pleasure to spill your blood. After all, that’s what us Comanche do best.”

Brock glanced at her with wide eyes over the way she spoke. It was time to end this now. Surreptitiously, Brock drew his gun while Daphne kept baiting their foes. She said more and more outrageous things until the men laughed uproariously. That’s when Brock made his move.

“Run,” he ordered in a quiet voice. “Run as fast as you can.”

Swiftly, Brock brought his gun up, firing a shot at the leader. The bullet hit him dead center in the chest, blowing him off his horse before the others registered what had happened. Brock fired again, winging one of the other men.

“Daphne, run!” Brock commanded.

The buggy moved as he took aim again. One of the other thugs fired at him, but his aim was off. Another shot rang out, but it came from behind Brock. He was shocked to see one of the three remaining men grab his leg. The shot could only have come from Daphne. She must be carrying a gun, Brock thought. The two injured men spurred their horses into action, thundering away into the night.

Brock drew a bead on the last man. “Hold it right there. Get off that horse. Now!”

The reprobate got down and held his hands up in the air.

Keeping a close eye on the guy, Brock got out of the buggy. “On the ground, hands behind your back. You’re under arrest.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Brock saw Daphne move forward, training her gun on the man, too. Once the thug had lain down, Brock handcuffed him and turned to Daphne.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

They were in a conundrum. Brock needed to get the living prisoner and the dead one back to town, but he didn’t want to leave Daphne alone. Although the injured men had ridden off, they could still be waiting for them somewhere along the road in either direction. If they saw Daphne alone, they might attack her.

“Daphne, I know you’re scared, but I have to take them to town. If I put the dead guy in the buggy, can you drive it to town while I ride along with this guy?” he asked.

Daphne didn’t want to ride with the dead body, but she saw the wisdom in his idea. Besides, the dead man couldn’t hurt her, and she refused to give in to fear. “I can do it.”

Brock was proud of her. Even though she was frightened, she was being brave.

“Good. What’s your name?” he asked the remaining criminal.

“Toby Perkins, sir.”

His voice wasn’t the mature one of a man. Brock hadn’t been able to tell in the dark, but it sounded as though Toby was a teenager. “How old are you, son?”

“Sixteen.”

“What are you doing with that bunch?” Brock asked. “Never mind. There’ll be time enough for explanations back at the jail. Daphne, keep your gun on him while I get the other guy in the buggy.”

“He’s just a boy,” Daphne said.

Brock responded, “A boy who was with a gang of men who were up to no good. He makes a false move, you shoot him.”

Daphne didn’t like it, but Brock was right. Toby might be a kid, but he’d been involved in something very adult, and they didn’t know if he could be trusted.

“All right. I will,” Daphne promised.

Toby stood still while Brock put the deceased man in the buggy.

“All right,” Brock said. “I got him, Daphne. I’ll ride alongside the buggy. Let’s go.”

Daphne got in the buggy, doing the best she could to ignore the dead man beside her. He smelled of sweat, dirt, and blood. Picking up the reins, she clicked to the horse and put it into a trot, wanting to get to town as fast as possible.

“Get a move on, Toby,” Brock said after he’d mounted. “Behave yourself. I’ve already killed one man tonight. I’ve got no problem killing another. Understand?”

Toby nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He turned around and started jogging by the buggy horse with Brock following close behind.

 

Chapter Six

 

One of the night deputies, Wheezer, sat with Daphne while Brock and the other night deputy, Aaron, took the deceased thug to the undertaker.

Wheezer’s heart went out to Daphne. She wasn’t used to being involved in dangerous situations. He admired the way she’d handled herself. Even though she’d been scared, she’d still had the presence of mind to help Brock get them out of trouble. Although she was pale under her light bronze complexion, she sat straight in her chair, her eyes dry as she sipped coffee.

The older, colored man said, “When Brock’s done, he’ll get you home safe. I’ll have Aaron ride with you to make sure everything’s all right, but those other two are most likely long gone. They’ll need to see a doctor.”

Daphne gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“You want some more coffee?”

Daphne turned down his kind offer. “Wheezer, do you ever hate who you are?”

Wheezer gave her a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Do you ever hate being black? Sometimes I hate being part Comanche because of the way people think about us. I know that sounds terrible, but it’s true. Those men came after us tonight because they wanted me,” Daphne said. “Why are white men so fascinated by Indian women? Why do they think they can just take what they want from us and that we’ll allow it?”

Wheezer sighed. He had no easy answer for her. “Near as I can tell, people of different races seem to be real interested in each other, and not always for good reasons. I don’t hate being colored. The good Lord made me this way for a reason, same as He made you part Comanche for a reason.”

Daphne sat her coffee cup on Wheezer’s desk. “And what reason is that?”

“We’re strong people, Daphne, and we can show other people, not just whites, that we’re good and decent. We can show them that we don’t deserve to be made slaves or that we’re not bloodthirsty savages. We’re human, just the same as they are. That’s what we’re here for, honey,” he said.

“So, no matter what other people say about us or do to us, we gotta show them that we’re not gonna let that stop us from livin’ our lives.” He chuckled. “I think you showed those men that you weren’t just gonna let them do what they wanted to.”

That was a preview of On the Fence: The Chance City Series Book Two. To read the rest purchase the book.

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