Beth held her cup between the fingers of both hands as she sipped her coffee, letting pleasant memories from last night – and this morning - add themselves to the satisfaction the meal had supplied. She and Clay had just finished breakfast in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at in the town of Louton. She didn't yet know when she and Clay would be heading back to River Bend, but considering how incredible their time together last night had been, Beth was in no hurry to leave.
It wasn't necessary to glance up to know that Clay was looking at her, the same look he'd been giving her since he woke her this morning in the best way possible. The look held Clay's awareness that they were husband and wife again, that they belonged to each other again without an argument threatening to keep them apart in spite of the way they loved each other.
"Is that a smile I see on your face?" Clay asked abruptly, his hand coming to touch her arm. "If it is a smile, I'm hoping I know the reason for it."
"You'd better know the reason for it," Beth answered with a mock growl. "If you don't, you might not do the same again and then I'll have no reason to smile."
"Yes, ma'am, I surely do know the reason now," Clay said with a smile of his own as his hand moved to her face. "And don't you worry about me doing the same again. I'll be doing the same for the rest of our lives."
"You'd better mean that, because I intend to hold you to the promise," Beth said, looking into his beautiful brown eyes. "For the rest of our lives."
Clay took her hand then, the most he could do with them sitting in the middle of a restaurant, but that was quite a lot as far as Beth was concerned. Holding hands with the man she loved sent a thrill all through Beth's body and mind, the kind of thrill that would hopefully last a lifetime.
"I hope I get a real quick answer to that telegram I sent this morning," Clay said after a moment, his thumb caressing the fingers of her hand. "I won't feel safe taking you back to River Bend until that man Arnold is behind bars where he can't make any more trouble."
"If they drag their feet because Webster Arnold is a powerful senator, I swear I'll travel back to D.C. and shoot him myself," Beth stated, all happiness suddenly drained out of her. "He's the one who paid Bob Ingraham to have you killed and me kidnapped, and he's not going to get away with it."
"We've got to give the law a chance to do the right thing, Beth," Clay said, no happier than she was. "I know how you feel, but we do have to give them that chance. If Arnold finds a way around the law, then I'll be the one to take care of it."
"And set yourself up to be hanged?" Beth said with a snort. "I don't think so, not when they won't be as quick to put me on trial. I'm the widow of a man from a very wealthy family, not to mention the daughter of a senator. I've had enough grief from those two things, so if I use them now to my own benefit no one can complain."
"We'll talk about it if and when the need arises," Clay said, his expression now closed down. Beth could see that he didn't agree with her, but he also didn't want to start another argument. Their last argument had ended with her riding out of his life, so Beth just squeezed his hand and let the matter lie. She wasn't particularly eager for another argument either.
They still had coffee in their cups, so they sat in silence while they drank. Beth was considering asking for another refill when a boy came hurrying up to their table.
"Marshal Jarman, Sheriff Ames asks could ya come over t' his office," the boy said in a rush to Clay. "Sheriff Ames says it's 'portant."
"Tell the sheriff I'm on my way," Clay said as he got to his feet. "Beth, you want to get your saddlebags out of that other room and into mine now?"
"I did that while you were at the telegraph office," Beth answered as she also stood. The boy had nodded and run out again, so it was just the two of them. "I'd rather go with you to the sheriff's office - if you don't mind."
Beth had spoken as neutrally as she could manage, but her half-question hadn't been idle. She wasn't asking to join Clay on a manhunt, just on a visit to the sheriff's office. If the request turned out to be more than he could handle then the problem between them that was supposed to be solved was no such thing.
"The only time I'd mind your company would be during a gunfight," Clay said after only the smallest hesitation, his smile looking almost real as he held out his arm to her. "Would you do me the honor of walking with me, Mrs. Jarman?"
"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Jarman," Beth answered with a better smile as she took his arm. Clay still wasn't happy about the understanding they'd come to, but he was trying. No one could ask for fairer than that.
Beth felt the least bit silly holding to a man's arm while she was dressed in pants and boots, but that didn't make her let Clay's arm go. It was his left arm, after all, so there was no reason for her not to hold him as tight as her love for him made her want to do. They left the hotel and crossed the street to the sheriff's office, and when they got there Clay opened the door and urged her inside first.
"Clay, I'm glad you got here so fast," Sheriff Ames said from where he stood behind his desk. "Good morning to you, Mrs. Jarman."
"What's up, Ted?" Clay asked as Beth nodded to the sheriff's greeting. "The boy said you needed me for something important."
"I heard something this morning I don't much like," Ames answered. "You remember me telling you about the biggest spread in this area, a ranch that belongs to a group from back East? Well, I heard that one of the owners got to the ranch late last night, using a private coach so they didn't have to come through town. The name of the owner is one we heard about yesterday."
"Webster Arnold," Beth stated while Clay said things under his breath that sounded like cursing. "Do you know if his son Dalton was with him?"
"Arnold wasn't alone, so it's possible his son is also here," Ames said with a shrug. "What I need to know is where we stand with Arnold and bringing charges against him. Do we go out and arrest him, or what?"
"I'm going to have to send another telegram to my headquarters," Clay said, rubbing his face with one hand. "We don't want to do this the wrong way and lose the man once it gets into court. I'll - "
Beth was about to say there was no wrong way to stop a man like Webster Arnold, but her intention was interrupted the same way Clay's words were. The door to the office opened behind them and two men walked in, one of them much too familiar.
"Ah, you must be the sheriff," the first of the men said to Ames as he ignored Beth and Clay to stop in front of the sheriff's desk. The man acted as if his very expensive suit made up for the size difference between him and the two much larger lawmen, and his smile was greasily professional. "I'm Logan Ramsay, an attorney, and I represent Mr. Robert Ingraham, Sheriff. I also have an order for his release."
"Beth, how delightful to see you again," the second man said with his usual sleazy smile while the lawyer handed a piece of paper to Ames. "You'll dine with us at the ranch tonight, of course. I'll send a buggy."
The second man was Dalton Arnold, son of Webster Arnold, and he hadn't changed a bit. His slacks, shirt, boots and hat were all very expensive, not quite doing the job of making him look more like the men who lived in the area all the time. He also wore a gunbelt, and unsurprisingly he wore the gun tied down as if he were a professional gunfighter.
Dalton Arnold was also very handsome with dark blond hair and blue eyes, his height almost the same as Clay's. Dalton's smile was that of a man who knew exactly how attractive he was, a smile that said he always got whatever he wanted. But he was also a man who tended to want what he was told he couldn't have, and when he reached for Beth's hand she deliberately pulled the hand away.
"No, Dalton, it isn't a delight to see you again, and I certainly won't be anywhere near you or your disgusting father," Beth stated as she met the man's stare. "You and your father are fools to think I'd marry you even if I was a widow again, but neither of you is bright enough to understand that. Go away and bother someone else."
And with that Beth turned from Dalton and the flash of anger in his eyes to step closer to the sheriff's desk.
"Sheriff, may I see whatever it is Mr. Ramsay just gave you?" Beth asked. Ames stood staring at the official-looking piece of paper, his jaw tight with anger, but he still handed her the paper without hesitation.
"You're now required to release my client, Sheriff," the lawyer said as Beth looked over what she held. "I'll appreciate your doing it at once, so that Mr. Ingraham can leave with Mr. Arnold and myself."
"Just a minute," Beth said before Ames could move. She hadn't been feeling any kind of delight, but now that state of affairs had changed. "This order of release is signed by a judge in Washington, D.C."
Beth hadn't been completely sure of that, but the assurance in her voice had taken the smile from the lawyer's face.
"What difference does it make which judge signed the order?" Ramsay said, absolute confidence in the question. "It's still a legal order and has to be obeyed."
"Not in this state it doesn't," Beth said, letting the paper fall to the floor as she released it. "Your order of release is worthless, Mr. Ramsay, and if you try something like this again I think the sheriff will probably have to lock you up with your client. Jailbreak is a crime, after all."
Ramsay paled when he saw how much that idea appealed to the sheriff, and he bent to retrieve the order Beth had dropped. When Beth put her booted foot on the piece of paper to show that Ramsay would not be taking it with him, he straightened again without the look of satisfaction he'd been showing in his dark eyes.
"Then I must insist on speaking with my client in private," Ramsay said to Ames, and his voice sounded as if he held down a lot of annoyance and anger. "Show me the room where I can take Mr. Ingraham."
"You're not back East now," Ames answered with the satisfaction now in his eyes and voice. "You can talk to my prisoner through the bars of his cell after I make sure you aren't carrying any weapons he can 'force' from you. Step right over here."
Ramsay didn't quite growl, but only because he forced himself not to. His scowl was intense as he walked over to Ames to be searched, and Beth knew just how great an imposition the lawyer found that search. When Ames pulled out a derringer hidden in one of Ramsay's pockets, it became clear that imposition wasn't the only thing griping the lawyer. Obviously Webster Arnold wanted Ingraham out of jail very badly.
"Now you can go and talk to your client," Ames said as he stepped back with the derringer in his hand. "And it's really a lucky thing I found this little gun. If Ingraham had gotten his hands on this weapon and threatened to kill you if I didn't release him, I'd have had to shoot my own prisoner even if he shot you first."
Beth saw Ramsay's anger turn to startled disturbance, but that was nothing compared to the expression on the face of Bob Ingraham. The man who had kidnapped Beth had come to the bars of his cell when Ramsay and Arnold had first walked in, and in the beginning Ingraham had looked smugly pleased. When Ramsay hadn't been allowed to get Ingraham out of jail on a false court order Ingraham hadn't been happy, but now the man looked downright furious as well as frightened.
"That's right, Bob," Beth said to Ingraham as Ramsay walked toward the cell. "You would have been stupid enough to try using the gun, and that would have gotten you shot and maybe even killed. Arnold wants to keep you quiet, and if you have to die for that to happen he doesn't mind in the least. You're not his partner, after all, just another idiot on his payroll. Like Ramsay."
The lawyer folded his hands into fists, but he didn't stop and he didn't answer Beth's taunt. Ramsay had to know now that Arnold had set him up to be shot and maybe even killed to silence Ingraham, but it was clear the lawyer still meant to do his job. Either Ramsay was the most loyal man Beth had ever seen, or the lawyer was too afraid of Webster Arnold not to do his job. He stepped very close to Ingraham and began to whisper, and after a moment Ingraham started to calm down.
"I thought I remembered what you were like, Beth, but you're better than anything I can remember," Dalton Arnold drawled. When Beth turned back to look at him she saw that all anger had disappeared from his stare. "I've never met another woman like you, and if you think I'll give you up you're out of your mind. One day soon you will belong to me, and - "
"That's never going to happen, Arnold," Clay suddenly interrupted in a very calm voice. "Beth is my wife rather than yours because she wanted a man instead of a little boy, so why don't you just run on back to your daddy and get him to find you another toy to play with."
Dalton's face filled with such fury that for a minute Beth thought he would draw on Clay right there in the sheriff's office. Dalton's hand started for the gun he wore as his head snapped around to let him glare at Clay, but then his hand stopped before touching his gun. Clay had tucked the side of his coat into the back of his gunbelt, leaving his gun as open and clear as it would be in any gunfight. Dalton would have no edge against Clay if he drew his gun, so Dalton didn't draw.
"That's right, little boy, just let it go," Clay said, and now he almost sounded soothing. "Drawing on me would be a very bad idea even if you were a full-grown man."
Beth saw a snarl cover Dalton even as his hand balled into a fist. He very much wanted to draw on Clay, but Dalton was a lot brighter than Bob Ingraham. Dalton knew that Clay wanted him to draw, otherwise Clay would never have said the things he did. It had taken Beth a minute to understand what Clay was doing; Clay was using his knowledge of people to give him an excuse to shoot Dalton down where he stood.
"You can forget about it, old man, because I'm not going to give you the excuse," Dalton snarled, his face darker than it had been a minute ago. "When I'm ready to face you it'll be out in the street, at a distance where your old eyes will have trouble making me out. Ramsay, make it quick. I'll be waiting outside."
And with that final word Dalton turned and left the office, all but slamming the door behind him. Clay looked only faintly disappointed to Beth, probably because Dalton had said he would agree to a gunfight, but Clay didn't know Dalton as well as Beth did.
"If you expect him to face you fairly you're an idiot," Beth told Clay, gaining his attention quickly. "I'm being this direct because if you don't believe me you'll end up dead. Dalton Arnold will never face anyone fairly, not when he can win by cheating. His father taught him that it's winning that counts, not how you do it, and he learned the lesson really well."
"Damn it, you're right," Clay grumbled after a very short hesitation, the anger in his eyes obviously directed at Dalton rather than at Beth. "And I really need to apologize, Ted. I shouldn't have tried forcing him into drawing on me right here in your office. It's just… "
"Yeah, I know," Ames said when Clay's words just ended. "If that was my wife he'd been talking about I would have been just as bent out of shape, but you really have nothing to apologize for. I didn't hear anything a sheriff would have to take exception to."
Clay smiled faintly and nodded his thanks, and then they lapsed into silence. Ramsay was still whispering to Bob Ingraham through the bars of the cell, but a minute or two later the "private" part of the conversation was over.
"So I'll be seeing you first thing in the morning tomorrow, Mr. Ingraham," Ramsay finished up with in a normal voice. "The circuit judge is expected to be here some time tomorrow, I'm told, and as soon as he hears your case you'll be free to go about your business."
"Waitin' one more day don't bother me none," Ingraham answered, the gloating smugness back and covering him completely. "I'll see you in the mornin', Ramsay."
The lawyer nodded and turned away from the cell just in time for Beth to notice the flash of annoyance in his dark eyes. Ramsay was playing underling to keep Ingraham from admitting Webster Arnold's involvement in everything, but the lawyer didn't enjoy doing it.
"I'd like my derringer back now, Sheriff," Ramsay said as he stopped near Sheriff Ames. "And you can be sure I won't have the weapon with me the next time I visit my client."
"Or at least it won't be loaded," Ames said, handing back the small gun. "You didn't think about that part of it, did you, Ramsay?"
"Have a nice day, Sheriff," Ramsay answered without even the smallest smile, and then the man left almost as noisily as Dalton Arnold had.
"You can forget about the lies you were just told, Ingraham," Clay said to the still-smirking prisoner. "The circuit judge won't be turning loose a man who paid to have a marshal killed and then kidnapped a woman. Only you're stupid enough to believe a judge could get away with that out here, even if someone could get away with it back East. And people don't like you, Ingraham, so even if the judge did turn you loose you'd find yourself swinging from a rope about five minutes after you left the courtroom."
"Or dead sooner than that," Ames put in, his expression saying he just thought of something less than pleasant. "Arnold might decide to have his hands sneak into town and take care of Ingraham the direct way, or they just might spread the word that Ingraham will be turned loose. If that word spreads I could have a lynch party coming at me, one made up of men I really don't want to shoot. I'd better arrange for as many deputies as I can get."
And with that Ames strode to the door, leaned out to call someone's name, then spoke quietly to the boy who ran up. The boy nodded as Ames spoke, then ran off as soon as the sheriff was finished. Beth noticed that Ingraham had lost his smugness again, but the man's teeth were clenched as if Ingraham refused to turn loose of the idea of being freed.
"A couple of my deputies were just up the street, so they'll be here in another minute," Ames said to Clay when he closed the door. "You mentioned something about sending another telegram before our visitors got here, so you might want to do that right now."
"They'd better tell me I can go after Arnold myself," Clay said, the words almost a growl. "If they say I can't touch him - or that son of his - I guarantee there's going to be more trouble instead of less."
"Whatever happens I'll be standing with you, Clay, so don't you worry about it," Ames said. "I agree that leaving Arnold to run around loose will cause trouble, so you might want to tell your people that."
"Thanks, Ted," Clay said with a smile that tried hard to be friendly instead of savage. "You pull in as many deputies as you can, and I'll be back later."
"If I were you I'd keep my wife right next to me," Ames said as Clay took Beth's arm before heading for the door. "Junior wants her real bad, and if he finds her alone he won't just smile and walk away."
Clay just nodded as he opened the door for Beth to go through before he followed, and as they left there were two men hurrying inside the office. They were the deputies Ames had mentioned, Beth knew, but thinking about unimportant things like that made no difference. She'd known for a few minutes now that she owed Clay an apology, and getting right to it instead of thinking about nonsense would have the need behind her sooner.
"Clay, I'm so sorry," Beth said, looking up at her husband as he guided her toward the telegraph office. "I didn't mean to get you mixed up in my trouble, and I'm a fool for not realizing what would happen. Oh, God, I really am a fool! You could have been killed and Lee was actually shot, all because I didn't stop to think."
The truth came rushing over Beth so quickly that it nearly knocked her to the ground. How could she not have realized that all this trouble would have fallen on the head of anyone foolish enough to become involved with her? Clay Jarman might be one of the most capable men Beth had ever met, but even he would die from a bullet in the back. Beth's head spun wildly, as if the world was trying to shake her from its face, and when the spinning slowed down enough to let her see again she found herself sitting in a chair in the telegraph office.
"Beth, can you hear me?" Clay said, sounding like he'd said the same thing more than once as he gently rubbed her wrist. "Are you all right, love? Do you need a doctor?"
Beth shook her head, not yet up to speaking, and Clay patted her hand.
"Then you rest here for a couple of minutes," he said. "As soon as I get that telegram sent we'll go back to the hotel and talk for a while."
Beth would have been happier to have a hole to hide in than a chair to sit in, but she didn't say so. She'd tried to apologize, but how did you apologize for as bad a thing as she'd done? And she hadn't even understood just how bad that was until a few minutes ago. What kind of an uncaring animal would act like that?
Clay had walked to the counter to send his telegram, and if Beth had been able to stand up without falling she would probably have gotten out of his life immediately. The shock that had kicked her in the teeth was leaving now, but not fast enough to do her any good. By the time she felt really steady, the telegraph operator had sent Clay's telegram and Clay was able to come back over to her.
"You look a little better now, love," Clay said as he bent to her. "No, don't say anything now. We'll talk as long as you like once we're back at the hotel."
Beth had been about to blurt out another apology, as if mere words could make things better. Instead of speaking, though, she just nodded and let Clay help her out of the chair without mentioning that she didn't need the help anymore. It wasn't long before they were back in the hotel, and five minutes later they'd reached their room. Beth took her hat off and put it down as soon as she was inside, then she sat on the room's only chair and used both hands to rub at her eyes.
"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself?" Beth said as soon as she heard the door close. "You're the most wonderful man in the world, but you could have died because of me."
"Do you have any idea how glad I am that I swore I'd never lose my temper with you again?" Clay countered, and he sounded almost as tired as Beth felt. "If I hadn't done that swearing I'd be in the middle of beating you right now. How can you say this is all your fault when it's nobody's fault but those Arnold bastards?"
"If not for me, those Arnold bastards would never have come anywhere near you," Beth said, lowering her hands so she could look at Clay bitterly. "At the very least I should have warned you before letting you marry me, but I didn't understand how much trouble I was bringing you. I'm an idiot, and when the judge gets here we can ask him to give you a divorce."
Clay had taken off his own hat and coat, and now he sat down on the edge of the bed to rub at his eyes the way Beth had done.
"I'm having trouble figuring out where to start, not to mention keeping my word," Clay muttered. "You obviously don't remember, but you did tell me about Arnold only not by name. You didn't mention just how far Arnold would go to get what he wanted, but that was probably because you didn't know it yourself. Or am I wrong and you did know?"
Beth hesitated a long minute before admitting, "All right, maybe I didn't know just how far Arnold would go. But that doesn't - "
"If you're about to say it doesn't matter, save your breath," Clay interrupted to state. "If you didn't know just how bad something could get, you can't be blamed for not 'warning' me. Not that any kind of warning would have kept me from marrying you. And as far as getting a divorce goes, as soon as I stop being mad as hell I will show you how I feel about it. Is there anything else we need to talk about?"
Clay's dark-eyed stare was very direct now, a promise of what kind of shaking or lecturing Beth had to look forward to. At another time Beth would have felt a delicious thrill tickle through her, but right now all Clay's promise did was start the tears falling from her eyes. She loved him so much, and his saying he didn't blame her did nothing to make the hurt go away. As the tears grew heavier, Beth didn't know what would make the hurt go away…