contempt. Her golden hair was pulled back in a severe bun, which would
have detracted from any other woman's appearance, but only enhanced
hers. Such perfection would take most men's breath away. She knew the
effect she was having on him too. She gave him an impatient look that
suggested he stop gaping at her and get on with it. Obviously used to
turning heads, she had developed a bored, unapproachable demeanor.
The last of the three was seductive. Her cinnamon-colored hair was
also pulled back, but several wayward tendrils had worked loose and
fell gently to the sides of her oval face. Her frown blended the spray
of freckles across her nose, and her piercing, dark almond-shaped eyes
bored through him. She wore a faded lavender dress with the sleeves
rolled to her elbows, indicating that she had been interrupted from a
chore to be brought to jail. Her stare was unsettling, and he detected
beneath the smoldering glare a burning passion that wouldn't be
squelched . . . and that was even more unnerving.
On her lap sat a curly-headed cherub, curious but unaffected by the
unexpected upheaval in his life. He seemed content to sit wrapped in
his mother's arms and was oblivious to the animosity surrounding him.
They were fit to be tied all right. The hostility radiating from the
three of them would have knocked a lesser man off his feet. If glares
could kill, Cole thought the three beauties would have been throwing
dirt on his grave now. Their pale complexions indicated they weren't
feeling well, and he figured they were also scared. He felt bad about
that. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and moved forward to
unlock the door. As soon as he took a step, the baby turned and buried
his face in his mother's bosom.
Swinging the door open, he said, "I'm real sorry about this
inconvenience, ladies. I know you would rather be home." The
golden-haired woman stood up first. The other two promptly followed.
"Who are you? " she demanded.
"Cole Clayborne, " he answered. "Marshal Clayborne."
"Are you the man in charge? " Cole shook his head. "No, ma'am.
Marshal Ryan's in charge."
"Is he aware that the sheriff in this town is a complete imbecile? "
The question made Cole smile. "He's beginning to get that idea,
ma'am." His honesty deflected some of their hostility. "Then neither
you nor Marshal Ryan gave the order that we be locked up like common
criminals? " "No, neither one of us gave that order."
"Sheriff Sloan is power hungry and ignorant. It's a dangerous
combination, " she muttered. She glanced at the other two women, and
then nodded. "Very well. We shall save our wrath for the sheriff.
Allow me to introduce myself, Marshal Clayborne. My name's Rebecca
James, and I was rudely ordered out of my sickbed by the sheriff. He
made quite a scene in the lobby, and I was horribly embarrassed and
feeling quite ill at the time. The dear lady on my left is Grace
Winthrop. She came here all the way from England because she heard all
about our wonderful country.
And how does this town show their hospitality? They lock her in
jail.