Hitched to the Gunslinger by Michelle McLean

Chapter Twenty-three

“How’s our sheriff holding up?” Mrs. DuVere asked Mercy.

She sighed. “Not well. He acts like everything is fine, but he’s not sleeping much and when he does, it’s fitful.”

“Oh dear,” Mrs. DuVere murmured, her brow creased with worry. “We just have to believe he’ll get to the bottom of this mess soon enough.”

Martha nodded. “Yes, we do.”

Mercy didn’t need to tell her that if Gray wasn’t sleeping, things were bad.

It had been nearly a week since the Brown brothers had been arrested in their horribly bungled attempt to collect the bounty on Gray’s head. And while Gray joked about the impressive amount, Mercy could tell it weighed on him. The more days that went by without anything happening or anyone new showing up, the more worried Gray became.

Mercy had asked him one day how they removed the bounty, and he’d just shrugged and said that typically you kill the guy who set it up. She’d discovered then she had a bit of a bloodthirsty streak, as she didn’t mind one bit if Josiah met an untimely death. But Gray had shaken his head. They still had no proof Josiah had set up the bounty. Details.

Mercy tried to look at the bright side, hoping that no news was good news. But if there was still a bounty on Gray’s head…well, someone would probably show up at some point to try and claim it.

She’d come into town for more sugar. Jason, who Gray had following her every moment he wasn’t with her himself, had polished off the last of the apple pie and ginger cookies she’d made. As Gray seemed able to choke down the ginger cookies better than most things she made, she wanted to bake some more. Hopefully tempt a smile out of him. The only time he seemed himself was at night, in bed. He still made love to her regularly and with great enthusiasm, though something had changed. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was almost as though every time he was with her, he felt like he thought it’d be the last time.

Martha handed her Gray’s lunch basket, and Mercy gave them both the best smile she could muster. “Thank you, Martha. I’ll see you both later.”

They waved as she headed out. She did feel marginally better after talking to the ladies. But she wouldn’t feel completely at ease until Josiah was in jail and this damn bounty issue had been handled.

She passed Jason and waved him forward without stopping. “Come on, Mr. Sunshine. Let’s go feed the sheriff.”

Jason grinned and followed along behind her. Gray’s eagle eyes focused on her the moment she stepped off the sidewalk and stayed on her every step she took until she reached him. Had it been anyone else watching her like that, even if it had been him just a few short weeks ago, she’d have stumbled all over the street, uncomfortable with the attention. But she’d gained a confidence she’d never expected to have since their wedding. Watching that fire spark in his eyes when he saw her, knowing what he looked like when he came apart under her hands… It was a heady mixture of control and power that made her hold her head high and want to strut with pride.

Gray’s hard face relaxed a fraction, and he half grinned. “You come to feed me?” he asked, nodding down at the basket.

“Yes, though I swear there’s no point. You’ll just be starving again in thirty minutes.”

He patted his stomach. “Gotta keep my strength up.” He stepped closer so only she’d be able to hear him. “I’ve got an insatiable wife who requires my attentions all night long.”

Her mouth dropped open, her cheeks immediately flaming, and for a brief second, she considered hitting him over the head with the basket. He must have seen the thought cross her mind because he plucked the basket out of her hands with a laugh.

“Come on,” he said, giving her a swift kiss. “I’ll share my lunch with you.”

She shook her head as she followed him inside, Jason at their heels, but couldn’t help the smile that came readily to her lips.

He was incorrigible. But, to her surprise, she loved every second of it. He may have started out a reluctant necessity, but he’d quickly wormed his way into her life, and heart. And now…she didn’t know what she’d do without him.

And that terrified her to no end.

…

Gray stepped out onto the jailhouse porch, rubbing his overly full belly and stretching with a groan.

“I don’t know how that woman is still single,” he said, nodding toward the General Store. “But if it means she’ll keep making me lunch, I’m glad of it.”

“Oh,” Mercy said, lightly swatting him with the now empty basket. “There’s more reason to want to marry a woman than just her ability to cook, you know.”

“Well, there must be, or I wouldn’t have married you,” he said with a grin.

She gasped, her eyes flashing, and he laughed, wrapping his arms around her before she could hit him with something harder than the basket.

She struggled briefly but subsided when he nuzzled her neck.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” she said, though her voice had taken on that breathy quality that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and haul her straight back to their bedroom for the remainder of the day.

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss in the sensitive hollow beneath her ear. “But you love it.”

“Hmm,” she said, pushing away from him. “Behave.”

He put his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her again. “How’s it going out here, Frank?” he asked the man sitting on the jailhouse steps.

“All’s quiet, Sheriff. Haven’t seen anyone I didn’t recognize.”

“Good. Thanks for keeping an eye on things. There’s some food inside for you if you’re hungry.”

Frank jumped up. “That’s mighty kind of you, Sheriff. I’ll come right back out when I’m finished.”

“Take your time,” Gray called after him as Frank hurried inside.

Mercy’s eyebrows rose. “You’ve got Frank helping out?”

Gray shrugged. “Never hurts to have another pair of eyes. He’s been surprisingly helpful. I’m thinking of making him another deputy.”

Her eyes widened further. “And…was he actually sober?”

Gray snorted. “Yeah. I started pouring coffee down his throat when I’d arrest him. It’s no fun playing poker with a man who’s too drunk to hold the cards. He’s developed a bit of a taste for it. And he seems glad to be of some use.” He shrugged again. “I don’t think he’s kicked the habit entirely, but he seems to be tryin’. Maybe havin’ a purpose other than just bein’ the town drunk inspired him.”

Mercy gave him a soft smile that made his insides go all mushy and caressed his cheek. “You’re a good man, you know that?”

He mock-gasped. “You take that back. You’ll ruin my reputation.”

She laughed and blew him a kiss before turning to head across the street.

His eyes were glued to her. To that smile that made his head spin. To the sun glinting off her hair, highlighting the deeper shades of brown and even a few red that you couldn’t see normally. Those blue, blue eyes that would make the sky weep with jealousy.

He reached out and grabbed her hand, half turning her. He didn’t want to let her go just yet. She captivated him. Mesmerized him.

It was his only excuse. The only reason he didn’t see danger until it was too late.

The man had already pulled his gun. Gray’s eyes connected with his just as the shot rang out, echoing in Gray’s ears before he could even let go of Mercy to pull his own gun.

Blood sprayed across Gray’s chest and Mercy gasped, dropping to the ground at Gray’s feet. The man didn’t get a chance to shoot again. Gray’s bullet hit him square in the chest before he could even center his aim.

But what did it matter? It was already too late.

Gray yelled for help, his stomach dropping to his feet while his heart pounded so hard the world spun about him, making black spots dance at the sides of his vision. People came running from all directions, but Gray ignored them all, his entire being focused on Mercy who lay crumpled at his feet in a pool of blood.

Gray gathered her up and ran for Doc’s, who was already on his porch, his door wide, and he ushered them in and through to the back room. Gray laid her on the exam table, his chest heaving.

“I’m not that heavy, am I?” she asked, and Gray’s breath punched from his lungs in an explosion that was half relief and half surprise.

He brushed her hair back from her forehead, pressing a kiss to it while he struggled to calm the hell down. He’d never been so terrified in his life as when he’d looked down and seen her lying there in her own blood. Nor more relieved than to hear her voice. See her eyes teasing him.

And never felt more guilty knowing that what had just happened to her was all his fault.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and kissed her head again, then looked up at Doc, who had ripped away her sleeve and was studiously cleaning the wound in her upper arm.

Doc glanced up at him. “Just a graze. A deep one. But she’ll be okay.”

Gray closed his eyes and counted to five before he opened them again and gave Doc a jerky nod. “Thanks, Doc.”

Mercy took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m okay, Gray. It stings like hell,” she said, startling a shaky laugh out of him. “But I’ll be good.”

“Another one?” Doc asked him, glancing at him quickly before turning back to Mercy’s wound.

“Yeah.” Gray sucked in a breath, nearly choking on the rage that clawed at his throat. “He won’t be a problem again.”

Doc just nodded and started bandaging Mercy’s arm.

She squeezed his hand again. “You can go check on things. I’ll be fine here.”

He stared down at her, not wanting to leave her side but also wanting to make good and sure the man who’d done this to her didn’t have friends.

She nodded at him. “Go on. I’ll send our good doctor here over if I need you.”

He glanced at Doc, who nodded. He took another deep breath and leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll be right next door.”

She gave him a brave smile that shredded his heart into a million pieces. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

He squeezed her hand one more time and marched back out, trying to get a grip on his emotions before he had to deal with the dead man and what looked like most of the town gathering in front of the jailhouse. Because it wasn’t just rage that Mercy had been hurt burning through him. But terror as well. He could face his own death just fine. But not hers.

Frank, Jason, and Preacher had already wrapped the man in some burlap and loaded him into the back of Preacher’s wagon. The townspeople milled around, murmuring worriedly, but Gray didn’t have the patience to deal with them. He made eye contact with Mrs. DuVere, who gave him a subtle nod and then started rounding people up, inviting them all back to the tavern. God bless that woman.

“Take him over to the churchyard, Frank,” Preacher said. “We can bury him at the back, near the big pine tree.”

Frank tipped his hat. “Will do, Reverend. I’ll get my brothers to help me.”

“That would be useful, Frank, thanks.”

Frank nodded and slapped the reins, setting the horse in motion.

“Frank’s got brothers?” Gray asked, watching him drive off. It wasn’t even remotely the most important bit of information he needed right then, but it was what his mind latched onto.

Preacher gave him a small smile, seeming to understand. “Three actually.” He bent and gathered up a small pile of belongings.

“How’s Mercy?” Jason asked.

“Doc says she’s fine. Just a graze,” Gray said, wishing he could feel the same relief Jason obviously did. Aside from the first rush that hit him after Doc had looked at the wound, he couldn’t seem to feel anything but a sinking and overwhelming dread.

“There’s something here you should see,” Preacher said, nodding to the bundle.

Gray nodded and jerked his head toward the jailhouse. “Let’s go inside.”

Jason opened the door for them and sat back on the step. “I’ll keep watch, Sheriff.”

Gray clapped him on the shoulder, his throat growing tight at the sight of Jason’s shaking hands. “Thank you,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’ll put a fresh pot of coffee on.”

Preacher didn’t say a word but handed him a sheet of paper. A grainy photo of him graced the page that advertised seven hundred and fifty dollars for the man who showed proof of his death.

“He’s raised it again,” he said, rubbing a finger over his lips.

Preacher shrugged. “Either that or the Browns don’t know how to divide seven hundred and fifty equally.”

Gray’s lips twitched. Either scenario was likely.

What was more concerning, though, was the presence of the paper. Word of mouth was one thing. It would spread, for sure. But a paper with his likeness on it would spread farther. And certainly aid in his identification.

“They’re going to keep comin’,” Gray said.

Preacher and Sunshine didn’t say anything, and when he looked up at them, they were just standing, watching him. Like they knew what he was going to say and didn’t want to help him say it.

“It’s not just me that might get hurt,” he said quietly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jason said.

Gray’s eyes shot to him. “Yes, it was. I saw that man’s face before he pulled the trigger. I saw the realization in his eyes that Mercy was a weakness, something that could be used against me. And he won’t be the only one to realize it. Hell, I’m not all that sure he was even gunning for me. No one’s goin’ to beat me in a fair gunfight. Everyone knows it. So maybe they’re fightin’ dirty. They find out ol’ Quick Shot has a wife…no assassin worth his salt is gonna hesitate to use her to get to me. Distract me just long enough to get a shot in. The dead man out there just proved it would work. If he’d had better aim, Mercy would be the one we were burying right now. And it would be my fault, no matter who pulled the trigger.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Preacher said. “But—”

“They’re going to keep coming,” Gray said again. “And my presence here is putting the whole town in danger.”

Jason’s head shot up, his eyes widening as if it had never occurred to him Gray might leave.

“And Mercy…” He had to swallow hard past the constriction in his throat. “I only stayed to help her. Bein’ here isn’t helpin’ her anymore.”

“Leaving isn’t the answer,” Preacher said.

Gray shook his head. “It’s the only answer.”

“You’re leaving?” Mercy said.

Gray spun around. Mercy stood in the doorway, her arm bandaged and bound against her chest. And she’d heard every word they’d just said.

Shit.