Page 96 of West Wind

“That’s Marshal Shelton.” He leaned in to place himself uncomfortably close to the pale man’s face.

Bart stepped around to get a good look. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “My brother the lawman.”

He glared. “This is as respectable as I get. The job came with a white house that has an orchard in the back, in a little town about fifty miles south of here.” Which was as far south as he’d been able to go.

His confidence wavered. What if she said no? He’d practically fallen into the job of marshal in the quiet little town. The retiring lawman had been anxious to move on and was happy to find a proper replacement. Shelley had been hesitant at first, but the small white house, the orchard, the wildflowers growing at the edge of the fence had sold him. He’d even driven a nail into the window frame in the bedroom, making a place for Annie to hang her dreamcatcher.

He turned away from his brother and faced the line of hopeful suitors. He kept his thumbs hooked in his waistband, the Colt and the star visible, and frightening to the group of dandified men. Their eyes were no longer on the exit Annie would take from the stage. They were on him, as he paced restlessly. Finally he stopped and plucked a bouquet of red roses from one anxious young man.

“Pretty.” He studied them intently. “Not bad. Ouch!” He pulled away a bleeding finger, frowning. “Thorns.” Exactly what he’d been looking for as he’d plundered the bouquet. He glared at the young man who’d begun sweating profusely. “You wouldn’t give Miss St. Clair flowers with thorns in them, would you?” He scowled at the offending roses, dropped them to the floor, and stomped.

Every bouquet was similarly examined. If no thorns were found, the delicate flowers were invariably destroyed by his search. No one protested. They didn’t dare.

Shelley lifted the lid off a tin of candy a nervous man held possessively. He popped a small chocolate into his mouth and then proceeded to make a face before dumping the perfectly good sweets on the floor.

Another man held a velvet box tightly in his hands. He’d backed himself into a corner and now his eyes darted back and forth as he searched for escape.

Shelley turned to him. “What’s this?” He snatched the box out of the man’s fingers and snapped it open. “A bracelet.” He lifted the diamond and emerald jewelry in order to study it in the light. “Very nice, but do you really think you know Miss St. Clair well enough to give her a gift like this?”

The thin young man stuttered incoherently.

“Think carefully about your answer.” Shelley grinned.

The man stuttered and searched for an answer. “I... I... I don’t. No. I guess I don’t.”

“You don’t know?” His smile faded as he returned the bracelet to its box and handed it to the pale man.

“I don’t know Miss St. Clair very well at all,” the young man said quickly and clearly.

Shelley turned his back on the pitiful suitors. Was this what Annie wanted? Some slick city boy who could give her diamonds?

This had been a bad idea, all of it. The job, the house, returning to San Francisco. Shelley turned away from the entourage, heading toward the door that would lead him into a dark, deserted alley. The door he’d used when he’d arrived. He heard Bart’s voice in the background, but ignored his brother’s pleas.

He was seconds away from making a cowardly escape, but the sounds of applause stopped him. It was over.

Shelley turned away from the exit and took a few steps toward the stage. The applause from the hall continued on and on, as enthusiastic a response as Ann Brown had received after her performance at the Silver Palace. When the performers began to leave the stage, Annie wasn’t among them. She stood on stage, facing the adoring audience. The caterwauling man who’d been singing with her took her hand and kissed it.

Did anyone else notice the flicker of distaste that crossed her face?

At last she left the stage. He tried to catch her eye over the crowd. A dozen people rushed to her, blocking his view. He couldn’t see her face any longer. She hadn’t seen him, not yet. He put his doubts aside and pushed forward with a single purpose.

The crowd parted for him, making way until at last he stood in front of Annie. He tried to decipher the mix of emotions in her eyes. Surprise, relief, anger… and more.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, ignoring the push from all sides.

“Do you, now?” she snapped.

He couldn’t blame her for being angry. If she’d left him the way he’d left her... “Please,” he whispered.

The single word seemed to sway her, to ease the anger.

“You can’t walk in and out of my life as you please, Travis Shelton,” she said softly. “I can’t take it.”

He took her hand, holding onto her fingers, feeling her resistance melt away. “Come with me, Annie.”

He looked to the right. There was Bart, along with the rest of Annie’s anxious suitors. He glanced to the left to see Uncle Icky. God only knew what she’d told him. The man looked as if he wanted to pounce. Shelley calmly opened one side of his frock coat so the silver star was visible. Nicholas St. Clair’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed where he was.

He turned back to Annie. “This won’t take long.”