Hitched to the Gunslinger by Michelle McLean
Chapter Twenty-one
Mercy headed home when the sky began to grow dark. Jason had mounted up and followed her without a word. She hadn’t fought him. She was angry, but not stupid. If there were other gunmen out there in the dark, she didn’t want to get ambushed on her own. But she hadn’t expected him to stay once she was safe in her own house.
She watched him dismount with her eyebrows raised. “I’m home now. You don’t need to stay.”
His cheeks flushed a little and he played with his hat rim and wouldn’t meet her eyes. But he didn’t budge from her porch, either. “Sorry, ma’am, but the sheriff said not to leave your side until he returned.”
She stared at him, debating the merits of arguing with him. Finally, she sighed and opened the front door, waving him in. “Better come inside, then.”
The relief on his face would have made her laugh if she wasn’t so angry about the whole situation.
She pulled out some cheese, bread, and apples, and they had a light dinner. She couldn’t dredge up the energy to actually attempt to cook anything. Afterward, they sat quietly in the front room. Jason chose a chair that had its back to the wall and was positioned so he could watch both her and the front door. It was the chair Gray usually chose. Mercy hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d always chosen the most strategic seat. She wondered if he did it on purpose or if it was just natural to him.
Jason didn’t try to draw her into conversation, for which she was grateful. He was a good man who didn’t deserve her harsh tongue. But she couldn’t really promise that she wouldn’t snap at him again with her nerves so on edge. Better to just sit in silence.
After a while, though, she couldn’t take sitting with nothing but her own thoughts rattling around in her head. There was something she was curious about.
“Why do you want to be a gunfighter, Mr. Sunshine?”
He gave her a gentle smile. “Have you ever seen the way people react to the sheriff when he walks into the room? Or watched the way he carries himself when he walks down the street? Even when interrogating a man he’d just shot for trying to shoot him, he didn’t flinch.”
Mercy nodded, smiling faintly. “I think I know what you mean.”
Jason nodded. “He told me once, the way people react to him…it isn’t respect, it’s fear.”
“And you want people to fear you?”
He held her gaze. “I’d rather have their respect. But I’ll settle for the type of reputation that will make folks think twice about me when I walk into a room. Better their fear than mine.”
Mercy gave him a sad smile. There was clearly more to this story, but now wasn’t the time to push him for answers. “I’m sorry I pried.”
Jason shrugged. “I don’t mind. You can—”
The sound of hoofbeats entering the courtyard floated in through the open window. Only one set, as far as Mercy could tell.
Jason was immediately on his feet, his gun in his hand. “It’s probably the sheriff,” he said, but he waved her back to the other side of the hearth where she’d have some cover if it were someone else. Jason flattened himself against the wall by the door, ready to launch himself at whoever entered.
“Dammit, Birdie, that was my foot you almost stepped on.”
The tension in the room immediately evaporated, and Jason and Mercy exchanged relieved looks.
Jason opened the door, though he took care to keep his body behind the wall as he peeked out. Smart. Gray was definitely out there, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else out there, too.
Whatever Jason saw must have reassured him, because he opened the door wider and stepped out. Mercy could hear them speaking, but she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Her heart started pounding again. Now that the initial rush of relief had faded, her anger was returning. He’d ridden away, into danger, without a word to her about it first. Told his men, her friends, to keep her from following. Left her to worry herself sick for hours.
She knew she was working herself into a lather, but she didn’t care. She and Gray were going to have it out, or she was going to explode.
A few minutes later, Jason rode off and Gray pushed open the door. He’d barely gotten two feet inside when she launched herself at him, fists swinging. She pummeled his chest.
“I can’t believe you just rode off like that! How dare you?”
She couldn’t stem the half-hysterical tide of words and barely noticed the tears streaming down her face. The fear and anger and uncertainty crashed over her in a wave that threatened to pull her under.
Gray caught her wrists and walked her backward enough that he could kick the door closed.
“Mercy,” he said, but she didn’t let him get another word out.
“You scared the hell out of me!” she screamed.
Then she launched herself into his arms, kissing him like her life depended on it. And may all the saints be praised, he kissed her back, meeting her urgency with his own.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her so he could spin them around and push her up against the door. He broke away, his chest heaving, and his hand came up to grip her face, pushing her head back against the door. He rested his forehead against hers as both of them fought for breath. Her hands moved over him, frantically checking to make sure he wasn’t hurt, though she knew he wasn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”
She pulled off his jacket and yanked at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.
He shook his head, hiking up her skirts as she ripped his belt from its loops.
“I’m never going to be okay with you riding into danger.”
“I know. But I’m not always going to have a choice.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“Not if it’ll put you in danger, you won’t.”
“I don’t care.” She shoved his pants down around his hips.
She wouldn’t beg him to stay. Ever. She’d known that someday he’d probably ride out of her life. And she’d tried to convince herself she’d be okay with that. But that didn’t mean she had to sit idly by while he rode off alone to fight her battles for her, either.
His fingers found her and all thoughts of anything else fled her mind.
“I do care,” he said.
He entered her with one hard thrust and she gasped, wrapping her leg around his waist. They were both too wound up, too overwhelmed with all the pent-up emotions of the last several hours to take it slow. He pounded into her, and she held onto him for dear life while the wave inside her grew, intensifying, and finally crashing over her so hard she cried out.
Gray followed her a moment later, thrusting once more before his head dropped to her shoulder as he dragged in one ragged breath after another.
He finally set her down and helped her straighten her clothes before righting his.
She couldn’t meet his eyes. She’d never been so…out of control before. It seemed to be happening more and more lately. And all due to Gray.
He’d come into her world and turned it upside down, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath from one day to the next.
“Mercy,” he said, his deep voice gentle. And hesitant.
He cupped her cheeks, turning her face up to his, and she forced herself to meet his gaze.
“You still mad at me?” he asked, and she laughed.
“Yes. I should make you go sleep with Birdie in the barn.”
He chuckled. “She’s mad at me, too. I haven’t made her ride so much in a long time.”
The reminder of where he’d been that day sobered Mercy, and she stepped away from him.
“What happened?”
“Let me grab something to eat and—” He held up a hand, stopping Mercy from the argument she’d been just about to make. She crossed her arms but didn’t say anything.
“Let me grab something to eat, and I’ll tell you everything. Not that there’s much to tell.”
Mercy sighed, but she went to get him some food. Not much to tell. He’d ridden out to her enemy’s ranch, the man who most likely had put a bounty on Gray’s head, with a dead body strapped to his horse, and he said there’s nothing to tell.
The man was enough to give anyone apoplexy.
But after he told her of the encounter, she had to concede there really hadn’t been much to tell. Though she about choked at the thought of him just riding into that viper’s nest with every gun trained on him.
“So, are you still sure Josiah is the one behind this bounty?” she asked.
Gray took a sip of water and nodded. “There’s no one else who would go to the trouble. Or the expense. There’re cheaper ways to kill someone.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he gave her a half grin.
“I mean it. I think if anyone were coming after me because of any past squabble or out of some desire to build a name by killing me, they’d come after me themselves. I can’t think of anyone, aside from Josiah, who would benefit from paying someone else to get rid of me.” He cocked his head to the side. “At least now we know what the man is after. His creek has run dry, and his ranch is sufferin’. He wants your orchard’s water.”
Mercy sighed and leaned back in her chair. “So, where does that leave us? Looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives?”
Gray shrugged. “Pretty much how I live my life anyway.”
Mercy frowned. “But you’re in Desolation now. You’re the sheriff. Married.” Hopefully one of these days she’d be able to say that without blushing, but today was not that day. Blast it all. She sighed again. “Things are different for you now.”
Gray’s brow furrowed, and she wanted to reach across the table and smooth the lines from his face. “Apparently not.”
“Well, we can’t just continue on like this indefinitely.”
“We won’t,” he said, pushing himself up from his chair.
“What do you mean?” she asked, following as he went around the house, dousing the lamps and checking the locks on the doors and windows.
“Nothing lasts forever,” he said as he went into their room and sat on the bed to tug off his boots. “Either he runs out of money, men, or patience trying to kill me and calls it off. Or he succeeds.” The rest of his clothing followed, and he sat back against the headboard, bare as the day he was born and not caring a whit.
She slowly divested herself of her skirt and blouse, going even more slowly when she saw him watching.
“You don’t sound very worried about the situation,” she said, dropping her last shred of clothing to the ground.
He took her hand and drew her closer. “I’m not. Nothing I can control either way. Why worry about it?”
He pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling his. She sucked in a breath and draped her arms over his shoulders, settling herself over him.
“Because it’s your life we’re talking about.” She kissed him gently. “It’s worth worrying about.”
He gripped her hips and thrust up as she sank down.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” he murmured before he captured her mouth with his.
She wanted to argue more, but his grip on her tightened, urging her to move, and she decided to let it go for the moment. But not forever.
She was going to make him realize his life was worth something if it was the last thing she did.
…
They headed to the jailhouse bright and early. Gray assumed everyone else would be as eager to hear about his trip as Mercy had been. Preacher would probably fill them in, but Gray wanted to be there as well. Though, if he were honest with himself, it had more to do with wanting Mercy safely surrounded by allies than anything else.
For the first time in a very long time, he had someone he cared about. And though he’d never admit this to anyone out loud, he wasn’t completely confident in his ability to keep her safe.
Mostly confident. But doubt was beginning to edge in.
In a one-on-one fight, he’d win. And if the man who had come yesterday were any indication of what was out there, he had nothing to worry about. But there was the slightest chance that someone better than him might come along. Not a good chance, of course. But he wasn’t willing to risk Mercy’s life on it. If being around the other townsfolk helped up his chances of keeping her alive, so be it.
They rode together on Birdie, much to the horse’s dismay, since the wagon was still being repaired. Birdie had tried to nip at his leg but had nudged Mercy affectionately. Though the nag still refused to move until Mercy produced a sugar cube from her pocket. All the spoiling was not improving the horse’s already questionable disposition.
Jason came out to greet them as Gray tied up Birdie at the post.
“Anything?” Gray asked, not needing to elaborate further. He’d given his deputy strict instructions to stay vigilant, and from the looks of the bags under his eyes, he’d taken the task to heart.
Jason shook his head. “All’s quiet so far, Sheriff.”
Gray nodded. “Head upstairs and get some shut-eye.” Jason looked like he was about to protest, but Gray beat him to it. “You’ll be useless to me if you’re too tired to see straight. I can handle things down here for a few hours. It is my job.”
Jason gave him a tired half grin. “All right, I’ll head up now,” he said, tipping his hat to Mercy.
She nodded at him and then followed Gray into the jailhouse while Jason clambered up the outside stairs to his apartment.
Gray slumped into his chair with a groan while Mercy fiddled with the coffeepot, set some of that magical brew to percolating. God, he was going to need a gallon of it to stay awake. Between the would-be assassin, the trip to Josiah’s, not to mention the encounter itself, and Mercy alternately berating and fucking him all night, he needed a vacation. A really long, permanent vacation. Oh hey, maybe he should retire. Retirement sounded good.
He snorted at his own joke, and Mercy looked up, her brows raised in question. He shook his head and then held out his hand, pulling her onto his lap when she took it.
“You look tired,” she said, smoothing her hands over his face.
He turned his face so he could kiss her palm. “Hmm, that’s because my nag of a wife kept me up all night.”
She gasped in mock outrage and tried to push away from him, but he chuckled and held on tight.
“I didn’t say I minded,” he pointed out.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “I’ll remember that the next time you get the urge to stay up all night.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He rested his chin on her shoulder so he could whisper in her ear. “I always have the urge to stay up all night with you.”
She giggled and kissed him, pressing against him when he deepened the kiss. He pulled away before he was too tempted to toss her onto the desk and have his wicked way with her. Of course, he’d been tempted to do that since the moment they’d walked in the door, but he stopped the kiss before the urge overrode his common sense. Barely.
“Maybe we can stay up all night again tonight,” she murmured to him, nipping at his ear lobe. Holy hell, the woman was going to be the death of him.
“Absolutely,” he said. “But minus the nagging this time.”
“Oh!” She slapped at his chest and got off his lap.
He grinned at her, sorry she was no longer cuddling on his lap, but grudgingly willing to make the sacrifice in order to focus on the more pressing matters at hand.
Like taking a nice midmorning nap before the rest of the town council burst in wanting to discuss things to death.
He pulled his hat down over his eyes. And that was as far into his nap as he got.
Martha bustled in not half a minute later with a smile and personality that was far too bright and bubbly for so early in the morning. Not that it was that early, but it was for him. But she came bearing pastries, so he’d forgive her.
“Mercy,” she said as she deposited a couple plates of goodies in front of Gray along with a steaming pot of coffee. “Mrs. DuVere and I were just about to have some tea if you’d like to come join us.”
Mercy glanced at Gray, her brow furrowed slightly. She obviously didn’t want to leave him, but whether it was because she wanted his protection or wanted to keep an eye on him in her own misguided attempt at protecting him, he wasn’t sure. He did know, however, that if she was underfoot watching every move he made for the rest of the day, he was going to lose his patience.
“Go along with Martha,” he said, giving her a half smile to take the sting from the dismissal. “I’ll just be sitting here nappin’. They’ll be much better company.”
Martha linked her arm through Mercy’s. “Come on. Mrs. DuVere’s got those tiny cakes that you love so much. And I saw Doc earlier. He was going to stop by this morning to see Gray, so that’ll give the menfolk some time to do their talking without us in the way.”
“Well, if they’re going to be talking about the current situation, I should be here—”
Gray came toward her and grasped her chin in his fingers. “I promise, we won’t say anything of consequence until you are here.”
She stared up at him, those blue eyes of hers crushing him under their weight. Finally, she sighed. “I’m holding you to that promise, Gray Woodson.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her lips pinched together but more in an effort not to smile, he thought, than in real disapproval. She let Martha tow her out the door, and he sank back into his chair with a sigh, savoring the instant quiet.
And damn it all to hell and back, he hoped the day stayed this way.