Lady of the Gun (24 page)

She shook her head.

"I'd prefer a bullet to a rope any day."

Cass turned slowly to face him.
“I know Hunt Tylo did it," she said softly, letting her eyes stare up into his. “And I know this is only the beginning."

Brett thought for a moment. As he stared down into
Cass's blue eyes, his heart contracted with emotion. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to take care of her. Suddenly he knew he would feel this way for the rest of his life. Catching his breath as his heart seemed to stop, he realized he'd fallen hopelessly in love with Cassidy Wayne, the Lady of the Gun.

Cass saw a change in Brett's eyes. Somehow they delved
deeper into her own. They caressed hers with a gentle emotion that touched her soul. Reaching up with one hand, she touched him on the shoulder. Rising onto her toes, she leaned forward to kiss him tenderly.

Brett saw stars explode behind his eyes as he closed them
to receive Cass's kiss. The merest brush of her lips sent him reeling and caused his passion to rise to a heated pitch. Opening his mouth, he deepened the kiss that had started out gently, touching her lips with his tongue, then probing deeply when she opened to him.

Cass felt the desire within her flame to life. Brett's taste
and smell filled her senses. His touch drove her mad with the urgent need for more. But not now, she thought, not with things the way they were in her life. She pulled away gently.

Brett opened his eyes and gazed down at her curiously.

"I can't. Things are too mixed up right now," she whispered.

He smiled. "That's okay, I understand." He leaned forward and placed his arms around her, pulling her into a protective bear hug.

Cass felt no threats in his embrace. She let her head fall
to his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. He was solid and real. He made her feel safe, and she found herself hoping he would stay in Twisted Creek. Then she remembered why he was staying. She had to tell him she wasn't pregnant.

"Brett?"

"Yes?"

"Brett, I'm not . . ." She stopped"

"Not what?"

If she told him, would he pack up and leave? Not until
the new sheriff was elected, probably, but shortly thereafter. Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to be fair to him. Leaning away from him a bit, she said, "Brett, I'm not pregnant."

Brett stood stock-still
. He knew he should feel relieved, but he didn't. Looking down at her beautiful face, he realized that he'd been hoping she'd tell him otherwise. "Oh," he murmured.

"Aren't you happy about it?" she asked quietly.

"Sure," he answered. Releasing her from his arms, he stepped back a few feet and leaned on the back of the chair. He studied her features, her eyes, her nose, her skin, her mouth. He loved every one. He loved almost everything about her, everything except her need to exact revenge for the murder of her family. But even that couldn't change the fact that he'd fallen in love with her. If she’d been pregnant she would have been tied to him forever. Now he had to find another way to stay close to her. “I’ve decided to run for sheriff," he said suddenly.

Cass blinked at his rapid change of subject.
“You have?”

"Yes. This town needs a good sheriff, and I need a place
to settle down," he sounded convincing, even to himself.

"Good. I'm glad," she responded, smiling.

"Are you?"

"Yes.
You’ll make a great sheriff.”

"Is that all?"

Cass lowered her eyes. She knew she had feelings for him. She just couldn't define them yet. Her life was much too complicated. "No. That's not all.” She looked up at him once more. "You're my friend, Brett. I don’t have many. I'm glad you're staying."

He grinned sardonically. Leave it to
me to fall in love with a woman who considers me a friend, he thought. Then a little voice inside his head reminded him that she might talk like a friend, but she kissed like a lover. His grin turned into a wide smile. "Yes, I'm your friend, Cass,” he told her, then started for the back of the sheriff’s office. “Come help me pack," he said.

"
You're packing? But you just said you were staying in Twisted Creek." She followed him down the hall to his room.

"I am.
” He began pulling his things from the armoire and rolling them up to put in his saddlebags.

"Then where are you going?,' Cass asked from the
doorway.

"To your place," he said over his shoulder.

Cass was stumped. "My place?"

"As you said, I'm your friend. We
ll, friends stick together in a crisis. You can't watch your place night and day, and that's what's going to have to be done from now on if we're ever going to catch whoever's responsible for the trouble."

"
We?"

“W
e.”

Cass grinned and entered the room. Walking up behind
him, she threw her arms around his middle. "Thank you," she said as she squeezed hard.

Brett turned in her arms. "You're welcome, but wait to
really thank me until after we catch the bad guys, okay?" he said in a seductive tone.

Cass felt him heating up in her arm
s. "This isn't going to work if you react like this every time I touch you," she said.

"Are you planning on touching me often?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I just can't help myself."

"Like now?"

“Yes. Like now. But the hug is over. You can let me go now." She pushed against his arm.

"I suppose I'll have to." He looked down at the bed.

Cass could read his mind. She pushed her way out of his grasp. 'You finish packing. I'll wait outside."

"All right," he gave in. "
I’ll only be a minute."

Cass left him in the bedroom and headed outside through
the office. She sat down on the wooden step of the sidewalk. Smiling to herself, she thought about the teasing side to Brett's personality.

"Penny for your thoughts."

The voice startled her out of her reverie. "Ramsey?" she acknowledged, surprised. Rising immediately, she looked up at him. "What are you doing here?" she blurted.

"What do you mean? Is there some reason I shouldn't be
in town?" he asked. He'd had a violent argument with his father and the anger still burned in his chest.

"No, of course not. I just meant. . . I'm " . . I'm surprised
you still want to talk to me after . . ."

Ramsey gazed down at her. "I discussed the situation with
my father, as you suggested. He told me about your false accusations. Cass, I told you before that I understand why you feel you must point the finger at someone. I am, of course, saddened that the person you've chosen to accuse is my father, but that shouldn't come between us. I know my father is innocent, and one day you'll know it too. In the meantime I'm attracted to you, and I'd still like to call on you, if you'll let me."

Cass felt that so
mething was terribly wrong with his words. He seemed sincere enough, but she couldn't help but think that if someone had accused a member of her family of murder, she'd be spitting fire and ready to knock his block off. She certainly wouldn't want to spend time with him. She didn't answer.

"Please don't say
no, Cass," he asked.

She watched the emotions that crossed his face. She'd led
him on by going out with him once, and whether or not her motives were reasonable, she shouldn't have done it. She wasn't attracted to him in the least. Continuing to let him hope would be cruel. "I don't think.."

“Please
, Cass?" he tried again. "I have to admit, I have some plans for us," he said hurriedly.

Bre
tt stepped out of the office at that moment, slamming the door behind him. "Ramsey, what do you want?" he demanded. "Are you bothering Cass?"

Ramsey's eyes
narrowed in anger. “What goes on between Cass and me is no one's business, least of all yours."

"Is that right, Cass?" Brett asked.

"No..." she began.

"Cass?" Ramse
y turned to her.

Cass let out an exasperated breath
. "Ramsey, I think you've misunderstood…"

"But, Cass
…"

"You heard her, Ramsey
. Now back off," ordered Brett.

Ramsey glared at the marshal with enough hatred to
fill hell. "Who do you think you are, telling me to back off? You've got no claim on Cass." He sneered at Brett, then turned to Cass. "Or does he?"

Cass couldn't admit out loud that there was anything
between her and Brett. "Things are very complicated right now. Brett is going to be staying out at my place for a while, just until things settle down a bit," she explained.

Brett frowned at her explanation.

"He's staying in your home?" Ramsey questioned, obviously surprised.

"Yes, just
until…"

"And where will he be sleeping?" he demanded. A split
second later a powerful fist crashed into Ramsey’s face and the world disappeared.

Chapter Twelve

“Brett! Oh, my God! What have you done?” Cass demanded, instantly kneeling beside Ramsey, who lay flat on his back on the sidewalk.

"Did you hear what that bastard implie
d?” Brett bellowed.  "I ought to punch him again!” He doubled up his fists.

"You'll do
no such thing!" Leaning over Ramsey’s bleeding face, she saw his eyes flutter open. “Good God, Brett.  I think you broke his nose," she told him, grimacing at the sight.

Ramsey felt as if he'd jus
t been kicked by a mule. His head felt as if it might explode, and his nose…oh, Lord, his nose throbbed so badly he could barely stand it. Raising his hand to feel it, he was swept by a wave of acute nausea when he found the crushed mass that was once his nose.  “Ohhhh,” he moaned, rolling onto his side to retch.

Cass helped
him tum over, then held his head while he vomited. "Brett, the least you could do would be to go inside and get some towels and the washbasin.”

"The least I c
ould do is nothing," he returned.

Cass g
lared at him with such a vengeance that her eyes snapped with angry fire. "Get me some towels," she demanded. "And do it fast."

Brett turned on his heel and stomped back into the sheriff
’s office. That bastard had received exactly what he'd deserved. Why couldn't Cass see that and leave him to take care of himself? Grabbing a towel and the washbasin, he went back out and set them roughly on the sidewalk beside her. Water sloshed over the side, wetting Cass's trouser leg and causing her to give him another scathing look.

Ramsey moaned again. Things were becoming clearer now
that his stomach was empty. Someone had hit him. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was surprised to see Cass sitting next to him, helping him. Looking up, he saw Brett. It was Brett who had broken his nose. "You son of a bitch," he groaned. "I'll get you for this, Marshal. If it's the last thing I do in this town, I'll get you for this."

Brett looked down on hi
m with disdain. "Don't make threats you can't carry out, Tylo."

“
Oh, I can carry this one out. And by the time I'm through with you, you'll wish you'd never been born."

Brett scoffed. "You're too late. I have days like that already."
He turned to Cass then. "Are you ready to go?"

"I have to stay here and help Ramsey," she said, dipping
the towel in the basin. She couldn't leave him lying in the street despite her own distaste for him.

"Fine. I'll be in the office when you're f
inished with him," Brett told her, turning his back on both of them. Closing the door behind him once inside, he sat down on the edge of the desk. Crossing his arms over his chest, he fumed. Why was Cass so angry with him? He'd only given Ramsey what he deserved. Shaking his head, he pondered the female mind. "I'll never understand it," he said out loud.

"Ramsey, can you stand up?" Cass asked when Brett
was inside.

Ra
msey still felt as if he'd been kicked by a mule, but he nodded, the motion sending another torturous spasm of pain shooting through his face. With Cass's help, he pushed himself to his knees. Then, using her for support, he managed to stand.

"Can you walk?" she asked.

Breathing through his mouth, he answered, "I think so."

Cass pulled his arm over her shoulder and started them
on their way to the doctor.

Ramsey
felt as though the whole world was spinning around him. His legs felt wobbly, making his steps uncertain, and he relied on Cass's strength to pull them along. After what seemed like an eternity, they were climbing the steps to the doctor's office.