Judith E French by Morgan's Woman

Author:Morgan's Woman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Ash eased out of the low bed, picked up his rifle, wrapped himself in a length of oilcloth, and ventured into the night to relieve himself. Once in the downpour, he circled the cabin looking for any sign of visitors. He didn’t see a living thing, hadn’t expected to, but old habits died hard.

He was sure that they’d left the Cheyenne behind, but not so certain about Cannon. He had an uneasy gnawing in his gut that the outlaw wasn’t too far off. He’d chased Jack for so many years that it seemed as though he’d developed a sixth sense regarding his whereabouts.

He hoped Tamsin would be the key to catching Cannon, but he was torn between his feelings for her and his doubts about her innocence.

Devil take him, he didn’t believe Tamsin had murdered Sam Steele in cold blood, but if she killed that Cheyenne, she might have shot the rancher. And regardless of his doubts, he still had to take her in.

He’d chased down enough suspects to know that a man’s past, or a woman’s, had a way of catching up with them. Tamsin would never find happiness if she couldn’t clear her name. California wasn’t far enough to run. Sooner or later, a lawman or another bounty hunter would see her face and remember an old wanted poster. Rather than try to arrest her, he might shoot her down like a rabid dog.

Trouble was, Tamsin wouldn’t understand why his way was the only way. His daddy wasn’t an educated man, but he was smart. He’d always said that a person couldn’t twist and turn the law to suit themselves. Once a man started down that road, he was apt to lose sight of right and wrong.

It would be a hell of a lot easier if he hadn’t been born Big Jim Morgan’s boy, but it was too late to change that now. His father’s sense of right was part of him, and he had to follow that trail whether it was easy or not.

Drenched by the icy rain, Ash dashed back to the cabin. He opened the heavy door to see Tamsin sitting up in bed with a worried expression on her face. “It’s the middle of the night,” he said, throwing off the oilcloth and shaking himself like a wet dog. “Go back to sleep.”

Her eyes were large and frightened. “I woke up and you were gone.”

“Just outside.”

Damned if she wasn’t a fine sight, wearing nothing but a blanket. Her soft Tennessee accent poured over him like warm honey, making him forget the damp chill. If she kept staring at him like that, she’d have him on top of her, making promises he couldn’t keep.

“Nature called,” he said gruffly, trying to force down the rising ache that rose to tempt him from reason.

What had happened between them was physical, good sex between two lonely people, nothing more.

The argument didn’t sit right, and he tried to justify the notion as he threw his makeshift cloak over a chair and went to the hearth to dry off.

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