Logan propped his chair against the wall and crossed his booted feet atop the desk. Pulling his knife from the sheath at his waist, he worked the blade over the whetstone with quick, skillful movements. Well, the Widow Woman had pulled off her introduction, and she a minister's wife no less. Why it came a surprise, he didn't know. But when Scott had told him that she was the widow of a preacher it had taken him back. How the devil must be laughing now, he thought, his upper lip curved up ironically. It had taken a lot of courage for a woman of her background to speak before what she considered a room full of sinners. What really impressed him had been her honesty.
Logan set down the whetstone and raked his thumb lightly across the blade, testing its sharpness. He glanced at the cell across from him. He knew his prisoner was feigning sleep. And sooner or later, his big brothers would come to break him out.
Unexpectedly, the door swung open, and a hint of black sleeve caught his eye. With an incredibly swift movement, he hurled the knife, nailing the sleeve to the doorjamb. From the corner of his eye he saw his prisoner leap from the cot.
"I told you they'd come."
"Let 'em." Cole said in a deadly voice whipping his gun from its holster. Directing the Colt .45 toward the partially opened door, his eyes fastened on the black sleeve. They sure were taking their sweet time, he thought restlessly. Moving to peer around the door fully expecting to see one or both of the brothers, surprise hit him like a bolt of lighting when he saw the black-clad figure of Marie Elders.
"Damn!" Logan swore, slipping his gun back to its holster. He obviously scared the hell out of her, she fainted, but what the devil had she been thinking just to barge in like that? Only her back and buttocks touched the doorjamb, her legs stretching out before her. Her head drooped forward, and behind it a long length of wavy, tangled hair climbed the frame, the small knot at the end of it snagged on a projecting nail. This plus the blade anchoring her sleeve had kept her from sliding completely to the floor.
Suddenly concern marked his face, had he cut her? Working the hilt of the knife from her sleeve he caught her limp figure. After unwinding her hair form the snag, he lowered her to the floor. He ripped her sleeve the rest of the way off to reveal surprisingly, a slightly toned arm. It wasn't nearly what you would call impressive, but it defiantly wasn't soft like the rest of the women he'd ever encountered. Must have been from all that weeding. He saw only a thin trail of blood oozing from a tiny wound. Thank god he had only nicked her. Using the rest of her sleeve to wipe away the blood he then bandage her up with it.
"Hey what's going on?" The prisoner demanded
"Nothing that concerns you." Logan countered, "Shut up and go to sleep."
Looking at Marie's face he noticed her glasses gone. Had she taken his advice? Brushing her hair back from her fore head, he studied her pale face, noting the tiny wrinkle etching the center of her eyebrows. Caused by squinting no doubt. Her white even teeth showed through delicately parted rosebud lips. Strange thoughts ran though his mind. Had her preacher husband ever kissed her other than an affectionate peck? Had she ever known passion, white hot and all-consuming? Irritated with the direction of his thoughts , Logan gently patted her cheek and quietly called her name. Scott rushed to the jail and stopped abruptly at Marie's still figure.
"Good god, Logan what happened?" Logan quickly relayed what happened to a not very pleased Scott. "Well maybe I ought to go get Doc. McCoy."
"For good scare and a scratch? C'mon don't be ridiculous. Hey, she's coming around." Marie groaned, and blinked her eyes. Logan lifted her chin. A pair of groggy, glazed green eyes stared back at him. "Marie, you alright?"
"Huh?" she asked dumbly. Suddenly her eyes sprang to life and she grabbed her wounded arm. She sighed with relief when she found it still attached. The last thing she remembered was seeing a very big knife protruding from her sleeve. "What happened?"
"Just a misunderstanding Widow Woman you're fine." Logan saw fire leap into her eyes
"Don't call me that you cad, you, you…" unskilled in the art of name calling she let the sentence hang. Surprise flashed across Logan's face. Well, well the lady has a temper. He grinned which only made her angrier
"I suppose you did this to me."
"Yeah I did."
"Tell me Mr. Wolf, is this the way you treat all your visitors or do you have some particular dislike for me?"
"Mrs. Elders I don't dislike you, I dislike the way you barged in here, next time you knock."
"Knock on the jail's door? Why, this is a place of business."
"Well, at this place of business you knock. You knock and state your name loud and clear." Logan got to his feet and directed a backward thumb over his shoulder to a cell. "You see that man in there?"
Marie leaned forward and peered around him. A dirty man gripped the cell's bar and had a leering grin on his face. "Ah… yeah I see him."
"He killed a man in cold blood last week. He has two brothers just as mean as he his. And I guaran-damn-tee you they won't knock when they decide to save his ass."
Marie's mouth dropped open in shock. Logan didn't know if she found his language offensive or the danger that he implied that caused her reaction. In truth he didn't care.
"Now do you understand?" he asked gruffly
She nodded slowly, giving him a look of cold scrutiny before turning her attention to Scott "Is everything settled between the brothers? I didn't hear any gunshots." S
"Everything's fine Marie I told you it would be."
"I know, I overreacted but that scared me." Suddenly a frown knitted her brow, "I've lost my glasses again. Do you have them sheriff?" she asked accusingly
"No ma'am I don't."
"Well they have to be here somewhere." She glanced around the floor. As she moved she felt something beneath her. Leaning to one side she pulled her glasses from under her. "Oh, no I've crushed my lenses. They are my only pair."
She didn't see the pleased look on the men's faces
"Is there an eye-doctor in Hazard?"
"No I'm sorry, but you could have them mail ordered." Scott said. That earned a discreet punch in the arm, when Marie wasn't looking.
"This is all your fault, if you hadn't scared me to death this never would have happened."
"You should be thanking me." Logan returned
"Will you walk me back to the saloon?"
"Of course," He said helping her up. As she stood her wave of unbound hair fell down her back, beyond her waist. Logan thought the weight of it might topple her back wards. He saw Scott staring at her with the same look of fascination.
"What?"
"I think you've lost your pins Marie." Scott floundered
"Great one more thing to add to the list." She said as she dug for the pins in the thick mass. With the same skilled quickness Logan had with the knife she wound her hair into it's familiar knot.
"Good evening sheriff." She flung over her shoulder as she headed out the door, followed closely by Scott.
"Good evening Widow Woman." He called and chuckled at the enraged shriek that could be heard.
"If that is not the most infuriating man Miss. Rogue, I'll swallow my hat pins." Marie ranted as she got undressed. "Good lord this is irreparable." She said as she examined her dress. Well I'll just have to go to the dress shop tomorrow. In only her chemise she opened the window and let the cat out. Then she took that off and slipped on a plain white night shirt. She was dog-tired and knew she would fall asleep fast. But when she closed her eyes the handsome face of the town sheriff filled her mind. With a groan she sat up and grabbed her needlework. It sleep would just not come tonight.
The open doors and windows invited the gentle breeze that caressed the damp faces of the congregation. Marie Beth Elders sat up front on the second pew, her beautiful voice raised in song. She knew the words by heart. When Marie entered the church every head had turned, watching her. Brow shot up like winged birds as the members watched her take a seat. Marie didn't fidget, or yawn, of crane her neck to see who was in the church. Instead she sat quietly listening to the reverend's sermon, soaking p the message. The Reverend Millard Perry preached about green love and understanding. No fire and brimstone or damnation, nor was there any reference that women were no more than chattel for men. How she wished Grandpa Erik or Grandma Raven could have heard this. The it hit her like a ton of bricks. The way that they controlled her was by fear and foreboding. Marie began to look at herself in a different light. She was a grown woman, and only she had power over her. She had the power, not her mother, or grandparents, or husband, but herself. As Scott told her on the way up, only she could shape her destiny.
When the reverend called for donations for new hymnals Marie's hand was first in the air. The members greeted her warily when the service was over, and they were socializing out front. Marie was warm and smiled when the women introduced themselves, and they seemed to really like her. But when they introduced their husbands the men fidgeted and tugged on their collars. When they realized Marie wasn't going to rat them out they relaxed, and a burgeoning respect was born for the saloonkeeper.
Ida Flowers, the Dressmaker then strolled towards home. They were discussing the dresses Marie was intending to order. When she said that they were all to be black Ida nearly threw a fit.
"Marie, if I may be blunt, dark colors are just not your friends. Honey, they make you look washed out and, no disrespect to your late husband, but who cares if you are in mourning or not? It's not like old Sol is gonna know. Good gracious he's dead! He wouldn't care if you walked out the house naked."
"Oh, you don't know Solomon."
"Oh, Marie come with me to the shop. I just got this emerald green satin in. It would make all the women just pea-green with envy when they saw you in it."
"That's very kind Mrs. Flowers…" Suddenly a flash atop one of the storefronts caught Marie's attention. She dismissed it for a few steps. But while Ida kept on chatting she remembered the Sheramy brothers and stopped dead.
"Kind? Poppycock it's the truth…honey? Are you all right?"
"Mrs., Flowers I don't mean to frighten you but I think we should get off the street."
"Why there's not a soul in sight. Everyone's having supper.
"Not everyone." Marie replied, nodding towards the roof. "Go inside Mrs. Flowers, I'm going for the sheriff."
Ida watched Marie ran towards the jail and hurried to take the younger woman's advice. Marie's heart pounded quickly as she reached the jail house door and grabbed the door knob. The vision of a knife going in her arm and the sheriffs hateful words drifted back to her. Knock and state your name loud and clear. Removing her hand she balled it into a fist and pounded on the door. "It's Marie Beth Elders!" she called. This is ridiculous, she thought, lifting her hand again.
"Come in," came a distinctly smiling voice.
As Marie reached for the door knob shots rang out, splintering the door jamb. Her breath left her as she screamed and propelled herself forward on wobbly legs. A hard chest stopped her headlong flight, and strong arms moved around her.
"I believe the Sheramy brothers are here!" she ground out breathlessly.
"I think you're right," he admitted, kicking the door shut and moving her slowly across the room to lower her to a chair
"You knew! You mean I risked my life for nothing?" she shouted
"I am the sheriff." He knelt before her and brushed his fingers over her knuckles. "You were very brave coming here like that. I have been expecting them to pull something like this, what better time than a peaceful Sunday afternoon?" He smiled
Marie's eyes drifted over his shoulder to the cell were Mark stood with an I told you so grin on his face. She grabbed Logan's hands in a death grip. So hard he actually winced. "But-but I'm stuck here, until this is all over." As the shock of her actions registered she began to tremble. Logan put his arms around her a rubbed her back. Just then, a window shattered spraying them with broken glass. Gun drawn he sprang to his feet and moved around his desk to grab the shot gun. After checking the chamber he cautiously approached the window, his feet crunching the broken glass. With a quick glance over his shoulder her warned, "Don't move."
"I don't think I could." She whispered dully
"Why don't you let me out and save your self some trouble, Wolf?"
"Don't you know Sheramy? Trouble is my middle name." He answered dryly
"Is that what you want on our tombstone?"
"Would you please shut up Mr. Sheramy? Can't you see the sheriff trying to do his job?" she shouted
Logan turned from his position at the window, surprised at Marie's outburst. Her statement was so ludicrous he had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling.
There, Marie thought as the prisoner kept quite. He really is a vile looking man. Greasy orange hair, with a obvious comb-over. His face made up for the hair his scalp refused to grow. Brushy eyebrows and a long mustache that blended in with his beard. She shifted uncomfortably as his eyes raked her body.
"Widow Woman, ain't that what the sheriff calls you?" She turned her back to him and pretended not to acknowledge him. "Yeah me and the Sheriff had a long talk about you after you left the other night."
"Shut up Sheramy, and leave the lady alone."
"You gonna make me Wolf?"
"It's alright Mr. Wolf, I wouldn't believe anything he has to say." Reluctantly Logan Returned his attention to the street. He couldn't let the brothers get the upper hand. Not with Marie perched in his office like a sparrow ready to take flight. Still, he had to admire her grit. He couldn't think of another woman in this town brave enough to do what she did. Yeah, maybe there was more to Marie Elders than he thought.
"Me and the sheriff has got a bet. I bet him you'd be as stiff as a dead trout in bed."
Marie could suppress the grasp that flew from her mouth.
"Now the sheriff seems to think you'd be a real wildcat beneath the covers."
Her head snapped towards him. "Mr. Sheramy, please,"
"That's what I said to him 'Please spare me the details' But no, nothing would do him but to tell me every last thing he do to you, given the opportunity. First he said he'd get you out of those god-awful clothes, and he would take his sweet time doing it- then he would take down your hair, wrap a long strand around each nipple…"
Marie felt the heat of her blush covering her face. Embarrassed beyond anything she had ever experienced, she jumped to her feet.
"I will not sit here and listen to anymore of your disgusting jargon."
"Make you hot, hearing what the sheriff would do?"
Deciding she would put this disgusting creature in his place if it was the last thing she ever did, she marched towards his cell. Suddenly a volley of gunfire interrupted her course. She dropped to the floor in an unceremonious heap, appalled at her behavior.
After returning the gunfire, Logan turned his attention a pale-faced Marie. "Damn it, woman, you have to stay down. I watch you every second and do my job."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know why I let him get to me like that." On all fours, she crawled up behind Logan and peered over his shoulder to the deserted street. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah, you can get me an extra box of shells. They are in the top drawer of my desk, but please stay down."
"I will." Carefully, she crawled across the floor, her progress slow because her knees kept trapping the tail of her dress. Groaning she ripped it from the waistband in the front and moved freely to the desk. Her hands and knees becoming bloodied in the process. Another dress, I've ruined another dress.
Logan should have been watching the street, but he couldn't resist watching Marie. She looked like a turtle with a hat on as she crossed the floor slowly but surely. Her bottom, even beneath the drab fabric, was trim and shapely. When she torn her dress from underneath her he'd caught a glimpse of temptingly shapely legs, it reminded him of the first time he had saw her. Yet for some reason she looked different, smelled different. When she'd fallen though the door into his arms and then when she had crawled up behind him, the gentle fragrance of vanilla had teased him.
Another windowpane shattered and Logan swore violently. He turned his attention back to the street. He waited for the figure to bob back up to fire, and when it did he fired. The man fell over the side of the roof to the street.
"One down, one to go Sheramy."
"Bastard." The prisoner hissed.
Marie was behind Logan when he had fire and covered her mouth to keep from crying out. "Here," she handed him the box. "why are you using your rifle instead of your hand gun?"
"Accuracy and rage."
"Oh," she said nodding her head as if she knew what he was talking about.
"I know what it is now," Logan declared, studying her.
"What?"
He tilted her chin, examining her face closely. "I like you with out your glasses."
"Yes, well, I've discovered I can see better with out them."
The creaking of boards shattered the silence, Logan patted his finger across Marie's lips and shook his head. Logan pulled his gun from the holster a waited.
"Come on in!" Mark Sheramy bellowed and immediately the door burst open and a matched set of peacemakers swept the room in gun fire.
Marie screamed.
Logan squeezed the trigger of his gun and the intruder was hell bound before he could get them in his sights. Marie watched in a trance as Logan went to dead man's body and remove the guns from his hands. She moved to lean back against the wall, when she noticed Mark Sheramy's body sagging against the cell, his limp arms hanging though the bars, holding him up. "Logan," she croaked
Logan rushed to the mans side. "Oh my god, he caught one of his brothers bullets in the chest."
Several of Hazard's business men entered the jail, slapping Logan on the back for a job well done and praising Marie for her bravery too. She watched as though from afar, in shock at what just happened. That she realized that the bodies where gone along with the men and it was just her a Logan left. She was sitting still against the wall while he was framed in the doorway watching her, his strong arms folded across his chest.
"I'm sorry you had to see this."
"Me too," she answered shakily. "I can't believe how quickly a life can be taken. In the space of minutes three lives are gone. Why?"
"Survival. If they hadn't died we would have. It's as simple as that whether you approve or not."
"Oh, I know you did the only thing you could. You saved my life and I'm eternally grateful. It's just that this morning I was in church signing "We Would See Jesus." And an hour later I'm dodging bullets, I truly thought I would see Him today."
A lazy smile lifted the corners of Logan's mouth and his eyes sparkled with humor. "I see."
"So, you understand?" she asked, lifting her hand to push a strand of hair from her face. When she lowered it, a streak of blood marred her face.
"You're hurt," Logan announced in surprise, kneeling down beside her. He wiped the blood form her face and lifted her hands. Her gloves were damp with blood "How the hell did you do this?" he muttered, stripping off her gloves.
Ignoring his language, she replied, "When I was crawling across the floor, my hand got in the broken glass. It doesn't hurt, really."
He shifted her hand towards the light and examined it. A small shard of glass protruded from her finger. He plucked it loose and took her finger in his mouth, sucking gently on the injury.
Marie forgot the injury, the killings, the singing in church, everything- her body centered on the explosion of pleasure spiraling through her. His tongue beat against her finger like a heartbeat and she was ill pressed to keep from sliding down the wall.
"Better?" asked releasing her hand.
"Uh, huh." She whispered, tempted to tell him that her knees and legs were hurt too. But if he sucked on them she knew she would melt into a puddle on the floor.
"I'll see you to the saloon before I make my rounds."
"You sure are a busy man, Sheriff. Don't you ever get a day off?"
"Yeah I just didn't want to leave the jail when I thought they might be trouble." He said grabbing her hands and hauling her to her feet
At the mention of trouble, Marie remembered Mark Sheramy's disgusting discourse. "Sheriff, it embarrasses me more the you'll ever know, but I must ask. You didn't discuss me with that terrible man, did you?"
"I wouldn't discuss the weather with that trash, much less you, Mrs. Elders."
"Thank you."
The remained silent as the left the jail, each caught up in their own thoughts. Her skirt swished lightly against the leg of Logan's pants, and fleetingly he pondered the possibility of removing her dress and loosening her hair until it tumbled around her naked body. The he would lift a strand and wrap it slowly around her nipple…
And she, against her will wondered what it would be like to have the handsome sheriff take down her hair, combing his strong fingers though it just before he… No, no, she couldn't-wouldn't- let herself think about such things. She'd had her fill of the intimacies shared between husband and wife, and from her experience, she had nothing to recommend. What was happening to her? The strange feelings and even stranger urges were something she'd never dealt with before.
As they approached the street, he placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her across the street. Her mind went into a spin, surely his handprint was scorched into the back of her dress. Yet, the way her blood had surged though her so wildly when he'd touched her o freely, as he was wont to do, left her breathless. Good lord, she'd be on her knees for weeks seeking forgiveness for all her sinful thoughts.
