Hitched to the Gunslinger by Michelle McLean

Chapter Sixteen

Gray pulled up the wagon in front of the jailhouse and hopped down, moving to the other side to help Mercy from her seat.

“You’re becoming the regular gentleman,” she murmured to him as he slowly lowered her.

“Don’t say that too loudly,” he said with a grimace. “I should probably stop being so chivalrous before you start expecting me to be on my best behavior all the time.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. I would never expect such an impossible miracle.”

He leaned in closer. “I’ll make an exception just this once, bein’ that we’re technically still newlyweds and all.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, and she gave him a soft smile that had him wanting to toss her back in the wagon and hightail it back to their bed.

“Ah, you two are just adorable,” Jason said from the doorway.

Gray grimaced. “Remind me to kill him one of these days.”

Mercy laughed. “I’m going to go visit Martha. You two play nice.”

Gray grunted. “I’m not making any promises.”

She laughed again, gave him a little wave, and headed off across the street to the General Store.

“It looks like the honeymoon is going well,” Jason said.

Gray ignored him until Mercy was safely inside the store and then decided to ignore the comment altogether. “How are things here?”

Jason shrugged and moved aside so he could go into the building. “Pretty uneventful. The doc came by this morning to check up on them. Everyone should heal up well enough.”

Gray grunted. “Can they travel?”

“I believe so.”

“Good. Go round up the doc. And the preacher, too, I guess. There was an incident this morning.”

Jason’s teasing manner disappeared, and he nodded, all seriousness for once. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yes, for the most part. Mercy was a little shaken up, maybe, though she wouldn’t admit it. It wasn’t like the first time. Josiah wasn’t there to just scare her. And he was none too happy I disrupted his plans again. I think we can be expecting company soon. He was muttering something about seeing me gone before the month was out. He might try to make good on his deadline.”

Jason blew out a low whistle. “I’ll go get the men.”

He left immediately, and Gray took the time while he waited for them to show up to explore his new office. The last sheriff hadn’t left much behind. If Gray were staying, he’d definitely need to get some more firearms and ammo. And a teakettle, which the town council had apparently not provided yet. Damn what he wouldn’t do for a good strong cup of coffee right then. The morning had been interminable. Once he got Josiah’s men out of town, he was grabbing his wife and taking her home. And probably not leaving for a month.

Jason was back with the men much sooner than Gray anticipated. Maybe the little twit would be useful after all.

“Jason tells us there was some trouble this morning,” Doc said as soon as he entered the building. A man who got down to business. Gray liked it.

He nodded. “Josiah showed up at Mercy’s place. I sent him away, minus the use of his gun hand. He was mighty upset that we’re holding his men, and I’m sure the loss of his gun hand didn’t improve his disposition.”

Doc’s eyes widened. “You shot his gun hand?”

Gray nodded sharply. Doc, Jason, and the preacher exchanged a glance but thankfully didn’t offer comments. Good. Gray couldn’t tell if they disapproved or not, and he didn’t really care. He’d refrained from killing the man. Against his better judgment. If he showed up threatening Mercy again, his hand would be the least of his problems. Gray wouldn’t hold back again, even if it did ruin his retirement record of zero kills.

“What do you want to do?” Jason asked.

“We need to get those men out of here as soon as we can. What do you usually do with prisoners?”

Doc shrugged. “I don’t think we’ve had any before.”

Preacher shook his head. “We have, though it’s been a while. Before you came,” he said to Doc. “Though it’s been a good long while since we’ve needed to transport any elsewhere. Other than Frank, the last sheriff didn’t bother much with arresting people.”

“Frank? The town drunk?” Gray asked.

Both men smiled and Doc said, “Every now and then he gets a little rowdy. Needs to be thrown in a cell for a few hours to dry out. Honestly, I think he does it when he wants to nap.”

Gray snorted. He could understand that logic. “Do we need to send them into Denver?”

Preacher shook his head. “We can. Though, there’s a good-size town about thirty miles south. They’ve got a judge that comes by once a month. I think we could probably take them there.”

Gray nodded. “Good. Josiah will most likely be expecting us to head to Denver, so if there’s another option, we should take it. With any luck he’ll send his men north or west and buy us some time.”

“Agreed,” Preacher said, and Doc nodded.

“So, which one of you wants to volunteer to take them?” he asked, looking between Doc and Preacher.

“Which one of us?” Doc asked.

“I need Sunshine here,” Gray said, ignoring the way Jason straightened with pride at that. Pickings were slim, and Jason had proved himself. He might not be much good, but he was willing. He didn’t know that for sure about Doc or Preacher. And he didn’t want to find out when it was too late that he couldn’t count on them. So, Jason stayed. And one of them needed to escort the prisoners. Simple as that.

Preacher shook his head. “We haven’t left town since the day we arrived. And won’t now. But—” He held up a hand to ward off the argument Gray had been about to make. “There are several reliable men in town that we can count on to get them there. I’ll round them up if you’d like.”

“That would be helpful,” Gray said. He didn’t like leaving it in the hands of men he’d never met, but it wasn’t like he knew Doc or Preacher all that well, either. And he couldn’t fault them for refusing to leave. They obviously had their reasons.

Preacher nodded. “Give me a few hours. It’ll take a few days to get there and back, so they’ll need to make arrangements. I’m assuming you’d like them to leave today.”

Gray nodded again. “The sooner we get these men out of town the safer Mercy will be.”

The other men exchanged glances tinged with more amusement than Gray wanted to acknowledge, so he ignored them.

“We’ll probably need a wagon,” Doc said. “One of them for sure can’t sit a horse, and it might be easier to keep an eye on them if they don’t have their own horse, anyway.”

“That’s no problem,” Preacher said. “I have a wagon they can use. I’ll get it ready after I round up our men.” He headed out on his tasks without waiting for a response. Gray was liking the man more and more.

“Doc,” Gray said, “I was told I could hire a deputy.”

Doc nodded. “You got someone in mind?”

“Yeah.” Gray looked over at Jason, whose eyes widened in surprise.

“Me?” he asked.

“Well, you’re already doin’ the job. Might as well get paid for it.”

Sunshine’s face lit up, and he started sputtering his profuse thanks.

Gray held up a hand to stop the deluge. “I need someone here, and you’re all I got. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Jason nodded, but the pleased grin didn’t leave his face. Gray sighed. He was creating a monster.

He looked back at Doc. “Since I’m livin’ with my wife out at her place, I’m assuming it’s okay if Sunshine continues to use the apartment here.”

Doc nodded. “I don’t see why that would be a problem.”

“Great. Well then.” Gray sat in the chair behind the desk and scooched down until he was comfy. It had been a very full morning, and he was more than ready for a little break.

The doc waited for a second, but Gray didn’t have anything else to say to him. Everyone had their assigned tasks, and he had no intention of holding their hands while they did them.

“I’ll see you later, then,” Doc said. “Let me know when Reverend Donnelly comes back with the wagon, and I’ll help you get the men loaded.”

Gray grunted and propped his feet up on the desk. Jason rubbed a hand behind his neck. “I don’t know what to say. I am honored that you trust me with such an important job. I know you say it’s because you don’t have any other choices but…”

Gray waved him off. “Don’t get too emotional about it. Like I said, you’re the only one I’ve known longer than a week, and you’re here already doing the job. Saves me the trouble of findin’ someone.”

Jason flushed but still looked pleased. “Do you mind if I go take a closer look at the rooms upstairs? I haven’t done much more than grab a quick nap here and there.”

“Do whatever you want,” Gray said, tipping his chair back. “Just be quiet about it.”

Jason flashed him a grin and headed up to explore his new lodgings.

“Deputies,” Gray muttered, pulling his hat down over his eyes.

The preacher returned much sooner than Gray expected, but at least he’d managed to get a short nap in first. Jason hustled downstairs when he heard the wagon pull up and Gray sent him over to fetch the doc.

Doc Fairbanks gave the prisoners one last look over while Gray inspected the men the preacher had gathered to escort them south. They seemed reliable enough and didn’t show any nervousness or unnecessary roughness in handling the prisoners as they were loaded into the wagon. That was good. The last thing any of them wanted was too many questions about all the goings on.

The preacher watched Gray assessing the men, his eyebrows raised in question.

Gray gave him a sharp nod. “They’ll do. How long did you say the journey should take?”

Preacher rubbed his jaw. “Two days there, two days back so long as the weather holds. Maybe a day or so to get everything situated. Should be back within a week, I would think.”

“Good.” Gray nodded to each of the men who had volunteered to escort his prisoners. “I’m much obliged to you,” he said, his voice coming out gruffer than he meant. He wasn’t used to dealing with so many people face-to-face. Or any people, really. He certainly wasn’t used to thanking them for their efforts.

First he became a lawman, and now he was being polite. He hardly recognized himself some days. He still wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

…

Mercy finished up in the General Store, thanking Martha’s grandparents for everything they’d done for the wedding. She would have liked to talk to Martha, but her friend was out delivering an order and hadn’t returned yet.

It took a few minutes, but she extricated herself as politely as she could from her conversation with old Mrs. Clifford. She loved the dear lady, but the woman would happily chat until the sun went down if left undeterred, and Mercy still needed to return Mrs. DuVere’s dress, which was thankfully still in one piece.

She stepped out onto the sidewalk right as Gray was finishing some sort of meeting with several men from town. She watched him walk into the sheriff station, her mind still struggling to wrap around her change in circumstances. He belonged to her now. She belonged to him. Even more extraordinary, both of them seemed to be enjoying their situation, which was something she, at least—and she’d be willing to bet Gray felt the same way—had never expected.

“Admiring the view?”

Mercy jumped a little and put a hand over her racing heart as Mrs. DuVere grinned at her. There was no point pretending she hadn’t been ogling her husband, so she just smiled but didn’t say anything until he disappeared.

Then she turned to face Mrs. DuVere. “It’s much more enticing than I thought it would be,” Mercy admitted.

Mrs. DuVere chuckled. “I assume the last few days have gone well, then?”

Mercy’s cheeks flushed, and Mrs. DuVere laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I brought your dress back,” Mercy said, rather than answer.

“Oh, thank you, dear. You didn’t need to return it so quickly. I assumed you’d be…otherwise occupied for a few more days at least.”

Mercy had to stop blushing every time the woman made an innuendo or her cheeks were going to melt off.

“We had to come into town, anyway, so it was no trouble.”

Mrs. DuVere looked over her shoulder at the jailhouse. “Our new sheriff checking on his prisoners?”

“Yes. We had a visit from Josiah this morning.”

“Oh dear.” All amusement disappeared from Mrs. DuVere’s face. “Why don’t you come in and sit a spell, and you can tell me about it.”

Mercy glanced at the jailhouse but didn’t see any movement. Gray would probably be occupied there for a little while, so she nodded and followed Mrs. DuVere into her establishment. The madam took the dress from her and gave it to Pearl to put away and then motioned Mercy into an alcove in the parlor.

She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. Mrs. DuVere had ridden into town with experience and money and spared neither when she had set up her place. “No reason we can’t be refined even out in the middle of nowhere,” she always said. The house was comfortable and ornate, full of plush furniture, gleaming wood, and warm, rich colors, but opulent enough to suggest high-quality for everything from the food and drink to, well, anything else that might be desired.

After a few minutes, one of the maids brought in a tray with a teapot, delicate china cups and saucers, and a plate of delicious-looking cookies that had been at the wedding two nights before.

Mrs. DuVere poured and handed Mercy a brimming cup with three lumps of sugar—just as she liked it—and then settled back in her chair with her own cup. She took a sip and sighed happily. “Okay. Now that we are settled, tell me all about the wedding night. And don’t spare any details.”

“I…don’t know what there is to tell.”

“Oh, come on, now. Judging from the smile on your face and the slightly stiff way you’re walking, my guess is the honeymoon has been a success.”

Mercy choked on her tea. It wasn’t that she was necessarily surprised by what Mrs. DuVere said nor was she that embarrassed that the other woman knew what she had been spending the last few nights—and days—doing. She wasn’t even surprised or dismayed by the directness of the question. That was simply Mrs. DuVere’s way. They had just never discussed such things before. Truthfully, she had never discussed such things, at least in detail, with anyone before.

Then again, there had never been a reason to discuss such things before.

“It…has been surprising,” Mercy said.

“Oh really.” Mrs. DuVere selected a cookie and dunked it in her tea. “In what way?”

Mercy crinkled her brow. “I don’t know. I guess…well, just watching him around the house. I can’t get him out of his chair without a gun and a bucket of water. He’d rather nap than do anything else, except eat maybe, so I guess I just didn’t expect him to be so…”

She paused, struggling to find the right word.

“Enthusiastic?” Mrs. DuVere suggested.

Mercy giggled. “Dedicated.”

“Well, that sounds promising.”

“It was,” Mercy said, her body running warm with just the thought of the things they had done between those sheets. And out of them.

“And afterward?” Mrs. DuVere asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my second husband, Leonard, God rest his soul, made love like a tiger and then promptly rolled over, farted, and fell asleep. Every time.”

Mercy clapped a hand over her mouth and laughed.

“Martin, my first husband, was more of a cuddler. I’d have to wait for him to fall asleep and then push him away to get any sleep myself.”

Mercy considered that for a second. “We cuddle a little, I guess, but mostly we talk.”

Mrs. DuVere nodded solemnly. “I knew you’d be perfect together. And he’d be perfect for this town.”

The small kernel of hope that had been planted in Mercy’s chest when Gray had wandered into her life that first day grew even stronger. For someone who seemed so bound and determined to remain aloof from everyone and everything, he was certainly putting down quite a few roots.

“We didn’t have a chance to discuss it before the wedding,” Mrs. DuVere said, “but are you planning on having children?”

Mercy looked at her, surprised, and Mrs. DuVere hastened to add, “I know that it’s none of my business, but depending on your wishes, ignorance isn’t bliss. There are a few things you should know sooner rather than later.”

“Oh. I haven’t given it much thought. Haven’t really needed to before.”

Mrs. DuVere gave her a wry smile. “Probably not something you needed to give much thought to before. However, now that you’re a married woman with a, as you put it, dedicated man in your bed, it might be something you want to decide.”

“I don’t know,” Mercy said with a small frown. “Children…” For a moment, a vision of a brown-haired little girl running around her yard, chasing a grumpy, rumpled little boy flashed through her head, and she smiled. “I guess having children might be nice. Someday. Though with things the way they are with Josiah, and with things between Gray and me so new… I suppose if we could wait at least a little while it would be nice. But surely that’s not up to us.”

Mrs. DuVere nodded sharply. “There are ways to help prevent a little bundle of joy from showing up unexpectedly,” she said.

Mercy’s eyes widened. She wasn’t completely surprised. She’d heard talk of such things from other women occasionally. But always in hushed tones and never in much detail. She had never had reason to seek out any further knowledge on the matter, and her mother hadn’t had time to impart any great wisdoms before she passed away. The relatives she’d stayed with over the years had never discussed such things with her, either. And her father certainly hadn’t.

Mrs. DuVere explained a few methods for preventing pregnancy and Mercy nodded, listening carefully. She didn’t know if it was something she should discuss with Gray or not. She had no idea what his thoughts on children were. Perhaps once Josiah had been handled, they could talk about it. Right that second, though, bringing a child into the world wasn’t something she wanted to risk. She wouldn’t afford Josiah more leverage by giving him another target to aim for.

“It might already be too late, mind,” Mrs. DuVere said.

“What?”

“It only takes once, you know. And from the look of those circles under your eyes, I’m guessing it’s already happened more than once.”

Mercy blushed again, cursing her tell-tale cheeks for their inability to remain cool and collected.

Mrs. DuVere chuckled. “No worries, love. Just something to keep in mind.”

Mercy nodded, her head a swirl of information and what ifs.

Mrs. DuVere, having imparted her dizzying words of wisdom, settled back again with another cookie and nodded toward the door. “Do you think he’ll settle in well as sheriff?”

Before Mercy could answer, a sudden crash and a yelp of dismay came from the street, and Mrs. DuVere and Mercy looked at each other, eyes wide.

“Oh dear, I wonder what’s happened now,” Mrs. DuVere said as they both rose and hurried toward the door.

Frank stumbled into view, having apparently just upended a small cart Martha had been using to transport what looked like Gray’s lunch and a few other odds and ends. Mercy caught sight of Gray standing in front of the jailhouse watching the scene and excused herself to Mrs. DuVere.

Gray nodded at her, his lips pulling into an adorable half grin, though he continued to watch Frank as he stumbled over the mess he’d made. Martha’s grandmother was giving Frank an earful and hitting him about the head and shoulders with what looked like a loaf of bread.

“Well, sheriff, are you going to do something about that?” she asked, nodding in Frank’s direction.

Gray shrugged. “Do what? He’s just walking on the street.”

“Walking is a rather optimistic term for what he’s doing,” Mercy said, her lips twitching. “He’s drunk.”

Gray shrugged again. “Don’t see how that’s any of my business.”

“You’re the sheriff now. So, you could say it’s your only business.”

He snorted. “If you say so.”

“Gray, I think you’re gonna have to arrest Frank,” Mercy said, trying to hold back her laughter.

He frowned. “Why would I want to do that?”

“He’s drunk,” she pointed out. Again. “And stumbling around the streets in broad daylight.”

“No law against that.”

“No,” Mercy said slowly, like she was trying to explain something to a child. Or to a stubborn adult who enjoyed being obstinate. “Though most towns typically like to keep the drunk and disorderliness to a minimum.”

“Well, there’s only one of him. That’s pretty minimum. In fact, I believe that is the exact definition of minimum.”

Mercy gave him the exasperated look that statement deserved. “You know that’s not what I mean. He’s causing problems.”

Gray shrugged again. “Not causing problems for me.”

Frank finally noticed Gray watching him and raised the bottle in his hand in salute. “Afternoon, sheriff!”

Gray gave him a little wave.

“Gray.”

“Mercy,” he said, mimicking her disapproving tone.

Her lips twitched and she fought not to laugh. “You know good and well it doesn’t matter if he’s causing you problems personally, because you’re the sheriff now and your job is to make sure that there are no problems in the town for anybody. And Frank is most definitely causing poor Martha problems.”

Gray wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. “You’re kind of cute when you’re lecturing me.”

“Oh,” she said, half-heartedly pushing away from him, though inside she was melting into a puddle of twitterpated goo. She caved pretty quickly, though, when his head dipped down to hers. She rose onto her toes to meet him and pressed her lips to his for a delicious second before dropping back to her heels.

“Do you know that man?” Gray asked with a subtle nod at a tall, thin stranger leaning against a pole across the street.

Mercy glanced over, trying not to make it too obvious, since Gray didn’t seem to want to draw attention to the fact that they were watching him.

“No. I’ve never seen him before.” She looked up at Gray with a worried frown. “Do you think he’s one of Josiah’s?”

“I don’t know. But it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m sure Josiah has eyes all over this town.” He pulled her in for a quick, one-armed hug. “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her temple. “We’ll keep on our toes.”

She nodded, though she couldn’t quiet the worry pulsing through her. The man pushed away from the post and walked in the opposite direction down the street, and Mercy released the breath she’d been holding.

“Do you think Josiah will still come for his men?” she asked.

Gray shook his head. “I doubt it. I’m sure his spies are keeping him posted, so he’ll know that they were moved by now. And hopefully he’s too busy taking care of his hand at the moment. Give our men a good head start.”

He kissed her again. But another crash from the direction of the store drew their attention before they could get too involved in what their lips were doing.

“I guess I’m gonna have to arrest Frank,” he said, letting her go. Reluctantly. “At least I can give him a safe place to dry out.”

“By the way, I’m pretty sure that was your lunch he just dumped into the street,” she said.

Gray’s eyes widened at that and he huffed, jamming his hat harder on his head before marching off toward Frank, grumbling.

“Okay, now I’m definitely going to arrest him.”