Lady of the Gun (5 page)

"How would I know? You gunned
him down, didn't you? I was in the bar when it happened," answered Jaybird, his voice full of the animosity he felt toward Cass.

"You're the one who told him who I was. You're the one
who sent him out here knowing full well what he had in mind. And don't think I don't know you were hoping I'd be the one bleeding all over the street now."

Jaybird took a step closer.

Brett held up his hand. "That's enough," he ordered. Looking directly at Jaybird, he asked, "Do you know who he was?" indicating the dead man.

Jaybird smiled then. A smug, evil smile. "Yeah, I know
who he was." He looked at Cass and his smile widened. "You just killed Bobby Fleet's kid brother," he announced with relish.

Brett's eyes flashed to the dead man. "Henry Fleet?" he
said amazed.

Cass narrowed her eyes at the news. She felt the weight
of what Jaybird had just said, but she refused to let him see he'd affected her.

"You gonna ru
n?" Jaybird taunted.

"Shut up," ordered Brett.

"Hey.." said Jaybird angrily.

"I said shut up," repeated Brett, walking toward him.

Jaybird looked at the black scowl on the marshal's face and backed up a step. "What the ..." He stopped when the man passed him and paused to look at the body of Henry Fleet.

Brett had a hard time believing this was one of the Fleet
brothers. They were reputed to be among the fastest guns in the West, and Cassidy had beaten him with seconds to spare. Stooping down, he picked up the dead man's gun. His scowl deepened when he saw, carved into the handle, the trademark initials and notches showing the number of men he'd killed. Looking up sideways at Cassidy, he suddenly wondered if she, too, had notches on her guns.

Cass looked into the
marshal's eyes and knew what he was thinking. She was as nonplussed that she'd guessed his thoughts as she was at what he was wondering. Her heart skipped several beats, and the blood raced through her veins at an alarming rate. Opening her hands slightly, and turning her palms upward, she showed him the unmarked handles of her twin Colts.

Surprise registered in Brett's gray eyes when Cass showed
him her guns. He felt as though she'd been inside his head, had read his mind, and it bothered him somehow. But he couldn't deny the feeling of . . . what? Joy? No, that was too strong a word, but he was definitely relieved to see that she hadn't marked her kills on the weapons.

"What are you going to do about this, Marshal?" Jaybird
demanded belligerently, hoping the hushed crowd would rally around him. "Cassidy just murdered this man."

Brett stood up and faced the burly bartender. "I'll see to
it she receives the reward," he answered smartly.

"'What?" fussed Jaybird.

"I'm sure there's a reward for this man, dead or alive. I'm going to see to it that Cassidy receives it. Unless you think you should get part of it for setting him up?" he challenged.

“
I never . .. You're crazy," Jaybird argued.

Cass couldn't believe she'd heard right. A reward? She
didn't want any reward for killing a man. Maybe Jaybird was right. Maybe the marshal was crazy. Watching his back, she wondered about him. What was he doing here in Twisted Creek? Why had he followed her out of the restaurant?

Brett turned away from Jaybird's flushed countenance.
"Would one of you people go get the undertaker, please?" he asked.

"
I’ll do it," offered the town barber, Bill Conroy.

"
Thanks," said Brett as the man left, heading toward the funeral parlor. He then eyed Jaybird once again. "Was Fleet alone?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jaybird answered gruffly.

"Are you sure?" He was worried that Henry's brother, Bobby, might have been traveling with him, or was somewhere in the area.

"Of course I'm sure," groused Jaybird.

"Good," said Brett. He scanned the crowd of people staring at the body or watching the scene between Jaybird and himself. "You all go on home or back to your businesses now," he told them.

Cass saw that a few people started leaving right away,
with most meandering off a few seconds later. Jaybird stood his ground until he saw there was no longer an audience to watch his bluster. Then he too started back toward the Best Bet Saloon, but not before throwing the marshal a few very challenging looks. Cass let out her breath slowly. "What now?" she asked as the marshal turned toward her.

"Now we go to the sheriff's office so I can ask you a few
questions," he explained.

"About this?" she gestured toward the body.

Brett glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. "No."

Cass's eyes narrowed. "About what, then?"

"I'll get to it in the jail. Why don't you holster those?" Brett looked down at the guns she still held.

Cass shrugged and slipped the Colts into their resting
places. “Whatever you say, Marshal," she agreed.

Brett's ner
ves jumped at her words, and he frowned at the way his body had begun reacting to innocent statements she made. Swallowing, he gestured toward the jail and let her lead the way to the small building. As she walked in front of him, he couldn't keep his eyes from inspecting the sweet curve of her bottom.

Minutes later Cass sat in front of the sheriff
’s desk as she had earlier that morning. Only this time it wasn't the familiar, older face of the sheriff she watched. It was the handsome face of the marshal that held her attention as he searched through wanted posters he'd found in a drawer. “I don't want the reward," she stated firmly.

Brett looked up at her briefly. She'd already told him this
once, but he kept on looking.

"I mean it, Marshal. I don't want a reward for taking a
man's life," she insisted.

Brett dropped the stack of posters on the desk.
“Then why did you kill four men before today?" he asked. He knew what the sheriff had told him. He wanted her answer.

Cass felt the co
ld hand of hate close over her heart as she remembered the murders as if they'd happened yesterday. "I had my reasons," she said through clenched teeth.

"I want to know what those reasons were
."

Cass met his gray eyes with the cool blue of her own.
"Did the sheriff tell you?" she asked.

“Yes.”

"Then why…,"

"I want to hear it from you." His voice was a deceptive
monotone.

As
calmly as though she felt nothing, Cass spoke. "The men I killed murdered my family."

The
calmness in her voice sent a chill through his heart. Brett knew that emotion, had seen it in others, had felt it himself. "Revenge," he said quietly, his eyes taking on a faraway glaze.

Cass didn't answer. Something in his voice touched her
oddly. He knew. He knew what she was feeling as though he'd crawled inside her.

"And you're not through yet," Brett continued.

Cass shrugged slightly.

"Can't you let it go?" He had no way of knowing he'd
chosen exactly the wrong words to use. Not until he saw the clenching of her jaw and the tightening of her fists did he realize his mistake.

"I think I'
ll be going now, Marshal," Cass said coldly, standing abruptly.

"Not yet, Cassidy."

Cass ignored his request. Intent on leaving, she started toward the door.

Brett rose and quickly stepped around the desk. "Cassidy,
wait," he ordered, reaching out to grab her arm.

Cass felt the strength of his fingers as he grabbed her.
Sparks of awareness jolted up her arm. Trying to pull away, she met his gaze. "I told you once today to let me go. I'm telling you again."

B
rett didn't lessen the tension of his grasp. "You're not leaving yet."

"Like hel
l I’m not. You've got no reason to keep me here."

“O
nce more her words set off his body's alarms. "I've got reason,'' he growled, not explaining his double meaning.

Cass needed to get away from this
man. She jerked hard on her arm, but felt him counter her movement by pulling her toward him, throwing her off-balance. The anger in her eyes turned to shock as she found herself leaning flush against his strong, muscular body.

Brett's heart exploded in his
chest as Cass fell against him. All his nerves jumped to life, and his manhood pulsed with a need so great he was nearly dizzy with it. Locking her gaze with his, he saw the startled passion that blazed to life in the blue depths. Hesitating only a second, he lowered his head and claimed her lips in a devouring kiss, branding her with the fire that flashed between them.

Chapter Three

Cass had no experience on this battlefield. As Brett's lips opened over hers she found herself responding in ways she never had before. Blood pounded in her ears and behind her eyes, heat pulsed through her to her most secret places, and her flesh burned where it met the hard firmness of his body. She felt as though she were about to faint, and as she attempted to take a breath, she moaned in surprise as his tongue entered her mouth and began a mating ritual against the soft tissue of her own tongue. Again she responded blindly, following his lead, learning as she went.

Brett was stunned by Cassidy's immediate surrender to
his desires. He marveled at the way she molded herself to him and moaned against his kiss, meeting his exploring tongue with her own. He allowed this tender touching to go on as he slid his hands behind her, lowering them to cup the bottom that had intrigued him earlier in the day. The firmness of her flesh under his fingers excited him further, causing him to pull her closer to him, pressing his engorged manhood against her abdomen, wanting her to feel how badly he needed her.

Cass felt the desire that blazed between them. She felt
the pressure of Brett's body, rhythmically pulsing against her, and she felt her own body changing inside to accommodate him. But she'd never been with a man before. She'd never met one she'd wanted like this. A fog seemed to cloud her thinking as she matched his motion with her own and opened her mouth more, allowing a deepening of their kiss.

Brett tasted Cassidy's sweet kiss. He let his tongue tease
hers, then retreated to nibble on her beautiful, full lips. He licked gently across her lower lip and pulled it into his mouth for a moment, then kissed her fully again, savoring every second of their union. Bringing one hand up between them, he found her breast, the nipple hardened with desire. He brushed his palm across it and felt her shudder as sensation shot through her.

Cass nearly gr
oaned out loud as she felt white-hot ripples flowing from where Brett massaged her breast. She pushed herself deeper into his hand and knew that he could give her even more pleasure. The pressure of his arousal was increasing with each moment, and the feel of his strong body against hers was drugging her. Her knees felt week and she wasn't sure she could remain standing without the support of his well-muscled arm around her. So this is sex, she thought. But deep inside her she knew she’d only just begun the journey toward true passion.

"Oh
! Excuse me….  I mean….  I’ll come back later,” Bill Conroy stammered as he entered the office.  I’ll just go…  I…”

Cass jerke
d away from Brett at the sound of Bill's voice, horror and embarrassment turning her face blood red.

Brett glan
ced up at the flustered man and tried to stand straighter, but his still evident arousal made moving nearly impossible. He looked at Cassidy, blushing, embarrassed, her beautiful lips swollen from his kisses, and felt a new surge of passion's blood rushing to his loins. The quick slamming of the door as the barber made a hurried retreat brought his attention back to the interruption. “Who was that?" he asked, his voice coming out in a raspy groan.

Cass heard
Brett's question, but she couldn't force herself to make eye contact with him. She was more embarrassed than she'd ever been in her life, and she couldn't understand her own actions. She'd never responded to a man in this fashion before, never lost control, or felt that reality had ceased to exist. What power did Brett Ryder have that other men didn't?

"Cass?" he prodded.

Cass tentatively raised her eyes to meet his. When she did, she felt herself being pulled into their gray depths, the whirling fires of desire rising up to claim her once more.

Brett felt Cass's gaze as though she touched him still. The
inferno of passion that burned between them stunned him, causing him to open his lips and take a deep breath. This woman was under investigation, he'd just seen her gun down a man in the street, and yet all he wanted to do was pull her down across the sheriff's desk and bury himself in her, to plunder her body until she cried out his name in ecstasy. The picture in his mind's eye sent a shocking jolt of blood to pulse deep within his loins. Leaning slightly forward, he began to reach out for her once more, slowly.