Lawfully Charmed_Texas Lawkeeper Romance Read online

  “Really? What a coincidence. Perfect timing!” Claire said, stepping forward when her sister failed to react. “We were thinking about Jim. We’d like to see him.” She rested her hands on her hips. The doctor’s expression didn’t change. Jim had said he was a beast, but it was worth a try, and after all, they were here for Jim.

  It was a stand-off. Claire could see that Doctor Holloway was debating, and the grin on Doctor Jamison’s face let her know immediately that he could see through the whole ruse. Her eyes narrowed at him, then she moved, elbowing Mary in the process, who took her cue.

  “Yes, Doctor, please. We have limited time, and we really want to see Jim. The sheriff wants us back at the farm as soon as possible, and I have chores to attend to.”Claire realized their mistake as soon as Doctor Holloway opened his mouth.

  “Hmm. Well, then, I’d like to check Miss Hawarden out first, and then you’re welcome to visit with Jim with the remaining time you have left. Let’s get started, shall we?”

  Claire gave a most unladylike look to Mary, who looked sheepish, but simply bit her lip, her eyes issuing an apology.

  Claire’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t have time for that today, Doctor, but I do appreciate your…diligence. Let’s focus on Jim and—I’ll come back later in the week.” If needed, she added silently to herself. She couldn’t lie to them, yet she had no intention of returning for an examination. She moved back to the door without waiting for his approval and turned the knob.

  “By all means, Miss Hawarden. Mary, why don’t you wait here with Miss Melissa and I’ll call for you when we’re ready.” He motioned for Doctor Jamison to follow. Confusion furrowed Mary’s brow, she wanted to see her brother, too, but then Melissa spurred into action and directed her toward the chairs in the corner.

  It wasn’t until Claire was inside the infirmary that she realized Jim wasn’t even there. She spun around, nearly bumping into Doctor Holloway who followed closely behind her. She tilted her head back to look at him, hands clenched at her sides. He towered at least six inches above her, but only in height. “Where’s my brother?” she accused.

  “He’s actually taking a walk around the block.”

  Her brow creased and then acknowledgment hit her eyes. She’d been tricked. She took a deep breath and leveled her eyes at the doctor. “Do I look like someone who needs to be examined? I am well, and quite capable of deciding if and when I am in need of medical attention.”

  “Are you always so contradictory, Miss Hawarden? You appear to be the one with a schedule, but I’ve got all day,” he added, closing the small space between them as Doctor Jamison walked through the door, closing it behind him. “And I don’t think a woman—or anyone—is capable of deciding if they are in need of medical attention or not when they are— unconscious.”

  She took two steps back. “Yes, well, I am no longer unconscious as you can see.” Her eyes shot daggers.

  “The waiting room is empty, and your brother will be gone for at least thirty minutes.”

  She glared at them both.

  Lance Holloway took another step toward her. “I asked Doctor Jamison to join us since he has a history with you, and your collapse on the train.” He added for good measure. “Please, have a seat.” He pointed toward the exam table.

  She didn’t move. This was ridiculous, and the last thing she wanted to deal with right now. He was over-dramatizing, and she debated if it was worth arguing or if she should simply acquiesce.

  He watched her carefully and must have seen the change in her face. He took it as surrender. “Jump up,” he encouraged as though it were a foregone conclusion.

  She scowled but moved to the table. “I think this is a waste of all our time.” She spun around and rested her back against the table, looking pointedly at both men. “There’s clearly nothing wrong with me. I am perfectly fine,” she added as she squared her shoulders, rested her palms on the edge of the exam table, and hopped onto the table in one fluid movement.

  Doctor Holloway moved directly in front of her, his eyes boring in hers. “I’m well aware of your opinion, Miss Hawarden. In light of the recurring circumstances over the last few days when you were unconscious, not once but at least twice that Im aware of,” he paused as though waiting for her confirmation, but all she did was swallow. “I would be remiss if I didn’t do a thorough examination to confirm that you are indeed perfectly fine.”

  His emphasis was slight, but he got the point across. He’d used her words. She didn’t like it, but she appreciated a good argument when she heard one. It wasn’t like her to faint—not just once but technically three times in the span of a day or two. Drat it. He was probably right.

  Their eyes locked. His cold, steel-blue eyes held hers, magnetic as though reading her every thought. She struggled to keep the annoyance she felt out of her eyes—or the fact that she recognized the truth in what he’d said. If indeed she’d never fainted before, he must be wondering why she had done so multiple times over the last two days. It certainly had worried her mind.

  She huffed with annoyance. “All right,” she breathed. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Fourteen

  Just Outside Kneeland’s Pass

  Sully watched Mangus stop abruptly. He moved without sound to the left where a small grove of scruffy trees jutted up through the dry land. He and Adra follow suit, but regardless of how hard Sully tried, his steps made noise.

  How does he do that, he wondered? It’s as though, the Indian’s feet were not even touching the ground.

  Mangus knelt behind a tree and Sully was taken aback. For a moment, he thought he’d disappeared into the tree, but when he focused, he could see him behind it. Both men followed him and Adra whispered to him in his native tongue, then interpreted.

  “He says they’re just ahead of us. There’s a scout a few hundred feet beyond these trees, and the other men are just beyond that grouping of trees.” Adra pointed to a larger stand of trees off to the right.

  Sully had no idea how Mangus knew any of this, but he trusted him. He believed that, like nature, the Indians were connected to the land in ways that the white man simply could not understand—or replicate.

  “Ask him how many,” he whispered.

  “He said two hands.”

  Of course he did, Sully thought. Why did I ever doubt him?

  “We can’t take ten men.”

  “Likely not, Sheriff, even with the element of surprise.”

  “Let’s move back. I don’t want them to know we’re on to them. Once we’re back with our horses, we can talk about the best way to capture them.” He didn’t say it outright, but Sully wanted the we to included Mangus. His insight on how to approach and capture them successfully would be invaluable.

  Sheriff tapped on Mangus’ shoulder and motioned backward. He nodded and led the way. Silently. As though his feet didn’t touch the earth.

  Sully made a mental note to ask him about that, how he did it. It might prove useful.

  Making their escape and on the ride back to town, Sully was quiet. There were many men in this town, including some of his deputies, who wouldn’t take kindly to an Indian joining their forces. Sully took great pains to keep bias to a minimum. He believed both sides were to blame for the violence and misunderstandings between white men and the Indians, but in his heart, he knew they were taking claim to land that already belonged to another.

  His men didn’t often bring the topic up. They knew where he stood, but this was new. He had never openly invited an Indian to work with them in any of their pursuits. It was a potential powder keg that could go either way. The one thing that may shift it to his favor was the fact that Jim had barely survived because of the men they were tracking—which was all thanks for Mangus. Then there was John. He hung his head, they didn’t know yet what John’s fate would be, but he knew that time was not their friend. He would simply have to convince the men that the best chance they had in catching these bandits was by bringing Mangus into their fold.
/>
  He urged Cider on, grateful that his horse responded without question. The fact that he always did had likely saved him more than once.

  Adra and Mangus rode in silence beside him. When he spurred Cider on, they followed in kind. Words weren’t needed. They wouldn’t help. The only thing that would help now was Mangus’ guidance, a clear plan, solid execution, and a miracle. He’d give just about anything to know what Mangus was thinking, but he knew from experience that anything Mangus shared would be measured. It would be what they needed to know and nothing more. It could take a lifetime to win the trust of the Indians in these parts, or maybe beyond.

  Sully had been in difficult situations before, but nothing quite like this. He had book knowledge, and a mind made for problem solving. But combine that with the level of immorality and cruelty that these outlaws had demonstrated—for the first time in his life—he wondered if he was out of his depth. He supposed nothing could prepare you for it. Not even the most brilliant minds in criminology. Some things could only be learned through experience.

  Fifteen

  Mary’s Farm

  “Claire, you have to let it go. It’s over now.”

  “I know, I know. It just makes me so darned mad. Why do men rule the world? Why do they get their way time after time?”

  Mary was beginning to feel like they were back in Philadelphia, and she was listening to Claire’s rants about men, women’s rights, and equality. Oh, she agreed with it in principle, but it wasn’t her mission in life to change it. No—her life was about the children.

  “Sis, I know it’s frustrating, and I realize why you feel that way, but it really is over. Aren’t you glad Doctor Holloway gave you a clean bill of health?”

  “I might be if it wasn’t for the fact that I already knew I was fine. He wouldn’t listen. He’s a doctor and a man, and he simply thinks he knows better.”

  Mary put her hands on her hips and turned to face her sister. “You know, Claire, this time I think you’re wrong.”

  Complete surprise spread across Claire’s face and her brow wrinkled.

  Had Mary ever challenged her Claire? She didn’t think she had.

  “I’ve been in Bareglen Creek now for over a year.” Mary struggled to hold back the tears. “I’ve never seen Doc Holloway behave differently with any of his patients—regardless of gender. He’s a doctor, and a good one. He’s conscientious, and today he did what he thought was right. He wanted to make sure you were okay. And that there wasn’t an underlying issue—besides sheer terror—that could have caused you to faint multiple times in a short period of time. I’m glad he insisted. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Claire walked to her sister and took her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m insensitive and self-absorbed.”

  Mary didn't argue. “Claire, you’re a wonderful woman. You’re intelligent, beautiful, good, charming, and kind—but yet, sometimes you are self-absorbed. I didn’t even understand what that meant until I came here. Until I worked with the children in the orphanage.” Mary paused. “It was then that I realized reality is very different for the vast majority of people—it’s very different from the life we’ve led, Claire. We’ve always had everything we needed. Parents who loved us, who could give us literally anything we wanted—education, travel, clothing, food, a maid, riding lessons, art lessons—you name it, we had it. Once you realize that…well, the rest seems so inconsequential.” She paused, and Claire opened her mouth, but Mary held up her hand. “Let me finish.”

  Claire nodded.

  “We lived a privileged life. Not a perfect life, but a really good one, and we were mostly surrounded by the same. Texas has, well it’s changed me. The things that mattered to me in Philadelphia, matter still, but they’re not the most important things to me. Not anymore. I lost my husband. A man I loved more than I knew it was possible to love.” Mary’s eyes filled with tears and she sank into the kitchen chair.

  Joseph who had been sitting in a corner with his hat pulled over his eyes, stood, stretched, and walked quietly through the door to the porch, closing it softly behind him.

  “We didn’t see that kind of love in mother and father. Oh, I’m sure they do love each other, but it’s a love made of convenience. It’s a love they take for granted. Claire,” she finished softly, her eyes seeking Claire’s, imploring her to understand.

  Claire joined Mary at the table, taking her hands into hers.

  “I can tell you that there’s a love that’s far greater than what we’ve ever seen. I’d read books about it, but it’s really hard if not impossible to comprehend it until you experience it.” Her voice fell off, but she looked Claire directly in the eye. “I’m here to tell you that a man exists who will make your heart beat fast and strong, he will make your skin jump at his touch, and your body—well,” her voice grew quiet, “your body will crave him.”

  * * *

  Tears were flowing freely now. Claire didn’t know what to do, so she just gripped Mary’s hands a little tighter.

  “I would never have known any of that if I hadn’t come to Texas.” Mary scoffed. “If mother had had her way, I would have married a Woodbury or a Stonington, someone who would make a difference in stature, but never in my heart. Life is real here, Claire. It’s hard and tough and maybe even brutal at times, but I’m more alive here than I’ve ever been before. This is where I belong.”

  Claire’s heart melted at Mary’s tear-filled eyes. She wanted to disagree with her, to tell her that she should go back to Philadelphia—but in truth she understood exactly what her sister was saying. This land had called her heart from the moment she stepped foot on it a mere day ago. This land was wild, and free, and unpredictable. It was frightening yet it made her feel more alive than she had ever felt, too. And the love part? She’d never believed in romantic love before because she had never known it. Oh, she had seen lust and heard stories from her friends, but never had she felt what she did when Sheriff Sullivan Clarke was near. She’d never heard anyone even come close to describing what this felt like. His smell filled her senses, his eyes called her soul, and his touch… well, it burned so strong and so deep inside her, that she knew no one and nothing else could ever come close. He was the only one for her in all the world.

  “Sully?” Mary asked wonder filling her expression as she stared at her sister's face.

  Claire nodded. “But how?” she asked Mary, bewildered that feelings like this could materialize in what seemed like no time at all.

  “I can’t answer that, Claire. Sometimes there is no answer apart from the fact that it simply is. With the heart, sometimes there’s no explanation, no logic, and no reason. There’s just a knowing. Sometimes love grows over time and begins in friendship,” Mary paused, “and other times it comes in fast and takes us utterly by surprise.”

  Claire nodded and hesitated. “Is that what happened with you and Mike?”

  Pain and grief flashed across Mary’s face. It took Claire’s breath away. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, and if it’s too soon to talk about it, I understand.”

  Mary’s hands were clenched on top of the table. Claire took them both in hers. “I’ll be here when you are ready to talk. You know that you need to allow yourself to grieve, don’t you, Mary?”

  Mary didn’t answer but tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks, her face contorting as she struggled to stop the torrent.

  “It’s okay.” Claire moved closer and gently squeezed Mary’s hands tighter, but her sister pulled them slowly away.

  “I have grieved, Claire. But I don’t see the point in belaboring it. It doesn’t change the hurt, it doesn’t make anything better— and it won’t bring Mike back,” she finished with a whisper, got up from the table and walked to the sink, grasping it with both of her hands.

  * * *

  Her shoulders shook. It was the first time she’d given any space to talking about Mike, to allow his handsome face to visit her, to let her body feel how desperately it missed his touch. The
pain threatened to overwhelm her. She wrapped her arms around her waist, closed her eyes, and willed her body to calm.

  Her parents had been furious with her when she’d decided to study meditation with a Franciscan Monk who offered classes in Philadelphia two years ago—they were Christians after all. But little did they know how the many ways the skills he’d taught her had helped her over the last year since she’d come to Bareglen Creek.

  It helped her deal with the pain of seeing children abandoned and alone—their only hope the Sisters and volunteers like herself who cared for them, and it was helping her now. The truth was—she couldn’t give space to grieving Mike. She didn’t know if she’d survive it.

  Mary forced all thoughts to leave her mind. She forced the rhythm of her breathing and felt calm spreading over her body. She turned to face Claire. “I’m going out to the barn—”

  When Claire tried to interrupt her, she simply held up her hand and breathed through the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her again. “I need to be alone.”

  * * *

  Claire’s chest constricted as Mary turned and walked through the door. She wanted to follow her, to help her, but she also had to respect her sister’s wishes to be alone. She frowned as a cacophony of thoughts raced through her head.

  What would her mother do if they all decided to stay in Bareglen Creek? Could Claire persuade Mary to return to Philadelphia? Was that even her place? And what about Jim? When he healed, would he stay or return? Could Mary manage this farm alone? Would she be a widow for the rest of her life, unable to get past Mike’s death?

  A lump grew in her throat. Maybe tea would help. She drew a long, steadying breath and rose to warm the water.

  * * *

  When Mary returned from the barn, Claire respected her quietness and made them all dinner. It had been a quiet affair, and they’d all decided to go to bed early.