Thanks again for all the kind reviews for this one. The least I could do was write another chapter. :)
xxxxxx
Chapter 3
The door opened is if on cue and a petite dark haired woman walked in clutching a pile of clothing under one arm.
"Mary Magdalene!"
Her jaw dropped as she gawped openly at Alex, and Gene suppressed a smirk.
"Ms Sharon meet Ms Alexandra. Your new lodger."
Alex blinked at Gene in some confusion and then remembered her manners.
"Alex, please. Very nice to meet you, Sharon. And its not how it looks, honestly. I'm … in disguise."
The younger woman smiled and shook the proffered hand, taking the whole situation in her stride.
"I've brought you a change of clothes, Ms … Alex. They were my mother's, she was quite a bit taller than me so hopefully they'll be a reasonable fit."
Alex returned the smile with genuine gratitude.
"That's very kind of you, Sharon."
"Call me Shaz, everybody else does. And you're welcome. Christopher explained what happened … well, some of it, anyway. Shall I come back later?"
She looked at Gene for confirmation.
"Could you give us half an hour or so? And this should cover the first week's board and lodgings."
He pressed some notes into her hand and she nodded, smiling reassuringly at Alex again before she left.
"See you later, then."
xxxxxx
Alex swung round to face him, her hands on her hips, anger and humiliation coursing through her veins.
"You must know I've no money to recompense you, Sheriff. What were you hoping for? Payment in kind?"
He sat back, his hands behind his head, and returned her heated glare without flinching, seemingly unperturbed in the face of her righteous indignation. His eyes were extremely blue in his tanned face, and she realised with a sudden jolt that she could think of worse ways to repay the debt.
"It's a nice offer, Ms Alexandra. Maybe some other time, though?"
His lips quirked in amusement and a blush stained her cheeks as she realised she'd leapt to entirely the wrong conclusion. Leaning forwards on his elbows he fell serious again, his penetrating gaze holding hers.
"I've been after Arthur Layton for years. Had him almost in my grasp on a couple of occasions but both times the crafty bastard managed to escape. Up until today there was only one eye witness who was prepared to stand up and accuse him of cold-blooded murder in a court of law, as far as I'm aware. Now it seems there's a second. There's a rumour afoot that he may be in the vicinity and it strikes me as somewhat of a coincidence that you show up here at the same time."
Alex's stomach lurched. Surely he didn't think …?
"My guess is he's had information regarding your whereabouts, ma'am. I need to keep you close for your own protection and Ms Sharon's house is right next door. Do you know whether he got a clear view of your face?"
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief and flopped down into her chair again, her mind reeling. It had to be a coincidence, didn't it? She couldn't very well tell him that she'd concocted a tissue of lies and the Arthur Layton in this world had no connection to her at all as far as she was aware.
"Ms Alexandra?"
She shook herself mentally, recalling that he'd asked her a question.
"Sorry. No, I don't think so. It was pretty dark inside the house, and he was behind me when he fired. We only know it was Layton because one man recognised him during the attack."
Gene nodded, pouting thoughtfully.
"That's good. Now, probably time you got yourself changed before Ms Sharon comes back, huh?"
"Well now you come to mention it, I would like to get out of this dress before Chris de Burgh writes a song about me …"
"Eh?"
She stood, grinning at his confusion.
"Nothing. Um, presumably you don't expect me to disrobe here in front of you?"
"Well, I don't mind if you don't …"
His eyes twinkled as he passed her the pile of clothes.
"… but if you insist on some privacy, my place is just upstairs. The door's not locked, make yourself at home."
Gene watched her with undisguised interest as she sashayed out of the rear door, his eyes drinking her in. She was beautiful, feisty, intelligent, and she knew how to handle a gun. His groin twitched and he sighed. Typical. The first woman he'd been seriously attracted to in a long time and he really needed to keep it strictly business.
xxxxxx
Alex made her way slowly up to the first floor, pausing at the top of the staircase and shading her eyes against the brightness of the afternoon sun. The rear balcony ran the length of the building with an uninterrupted view down to the tree-lined creek and over the grassy plains to the distant mountains. At one end was a weather-beaten rocking chair and she smiled to herself, picturing Gene enjoying a whiskey or two of an evening as he watched the sun go down.
Tentatively, she turned the handle and walked into his home. Just inside the door was a wood-burning stove, a basket piled high with logs to one side and a comfortable looking settee to the other. There was also a basic kitchen area with a small table and a couple of chairs, but her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the other end of the room and the large wrought-iron bedstead which occupied much of the space. Placing the pile of clothes down on the table, she moved across and stroked a hand reverently up the quilt until she reached the stack of pillows. Obviously he slept propped up against them, and she was willing to bet his gun was never more than a few inches from his fingertips.
Next to the bed was a wash stand containing a bowl and some shaving items and she closed her eyes, briefly allowing herself to fall into an erotic fantasy. She was drawing the razor slowly down his soapy face, biting her lip to suppress a moan as his questing fingers made their way underneath her skirts, his laughing eyes watching her intently as his thumbs stroked teasingly up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. An unexpected bolt of desire surged through her and she blinked in surprise, one hand flying to her throat as she tried to steady her breathing. Oh my. It'd been a long while since any man had had that effect on her, especially when he wasn't even in the same room.
Attempting to distract herself from thoughts of Sheriff Hunt's wickedly clever fingers, she retrieved the pile of borrowed garments and slipped out of her less than subtle outfit with some relief. The corset and blouse were almost a perfect fit and although the skirt was a little generous around the waist it would do very well until she could afford some clothing of her own. There was a large wardrobe to one side of the bed and she opened it tentatively, finding herself immediately enveloped by the subtle masculine scent that was uniquely him as she checked her appearance in the mirror on the inside of the door. She couldn't help herself, burying her nose in one of his shirts and breathing deeply before she closed the wardrobe and made her way back downstairs.
xxxxxx
He looked up as she walked into the room and then sat back with his arms crossed to study her, his head cocked to one side. She flushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his intense scrutiny.
"Hmmm. Think I preferred the other outfit …"
His eyes gleamed wickedly and she raised a flirtatious eyebrow.
"It's all yours but I'm not really sure red's your colour, Sheriff."
He smirked and she fiddled with the high collar which felt too tight around her neck.
"I feel like a school mistress in this but at least it's suitably respectable, I suppose."
Pursing his lips, he stroked his chin slowly while he considered her.
"We need to create a new identity for you too."
Alex thought for a second.
"How about Alexandra Price? It's my mother's maiden name."
He nodded approvingly.
"Fine. You could be Ms Sharon's distant cousin. After dedicating yourself selflessly to nursing a maiden aunt through her final illness, you've come here to begin a new life."
He grinned and Alex rolled her eyes.
"Wonderful. So now I'm a sad, lonely spinster, am I?"
His clear gaze held hers and the sudden flare of heat she saw in his eyes made her heart beat faster.
"Prettiest spinster I ever saw. Think I'll have to court you myself or you'll find yourself pursued by every single man between the ages of sixteen and sixty."
She burst out laughing.
"Well, how very gallant of you, Sheriff."
He pouted at her.
"I'm serious. If the whole town thinks we're romantically involved it'll keep the wolves at bay and give me the perfect excuse to be around you."
"There is that, I suppose."
She shrugged, conceding the merits of the idea, and a little thrill ran through her at the thought of being squired around town by the handsome Gene Hunt, even if it was just a courtship of convenience. And given the fact that the attraction was clearly mutual, who knows where it might lead? After all, none of it was real, so why shouldn't she throw caution to the wind and have some fun …
xxxxxx
I know. Sharon is a biblical name and therefore fitting for the late 19th century - but writing her as anything but Shaz just felt wrong so I'm taking the odd liberty!