"Then why did I give twelve horses to Cloud Walker for you?"

"You can't buy a wife, Logan," Leah admonished.

"Sarah, is Logan why you came here?" Jace asked.

"No," she answered him, but she only had eyes for Logan.

"Why didn't you wait for me at the Inter-Ocean?" He leaned toward her, the tightness of his face the only clue to his emotions.

"I couldn't."

"Why?" Logan fought the pull of her gaze. Her eyes pleaded with him so convincingly. He'd seen his mother trot out that very look a thousand times to any man within reach, including his stepbrother. To a man, they fell for it every time, right up until she lay in her deathbed, shot by a scorned lover. He didn't want Sarah to be like that. He wanted her to be the woman his heart told him she was.

"I'm in a bad situation. I didn't want to draw you into it."

"And yet you've pulled my friends into it."

Sarah swallowed hard. Just that quickly, the refuge she'd sought here, though she knew it was temporary, no longer existed. She looked at Leah and Jace. "He's right. I shouldn't have come here. I thank you for being willing to help."

Leah frowned and moved to block her retreat. "Logan, quit being a bully." She wrapped a hand around Sarah's waist and led her toward the front steps. "Let's go back inside and discuss this like calm, rational adults. Something's wrong. Jace and I can help."

Leah set a pitcher of cold water on the table. Jace filled gla.s.ses for each of them while Leah got more coffee brewing on the stove. Sarah sat at the table and looked at the forbidding faces of both men. Her problem was too big for her to handle alone. She didn't want to involve them, but perhaps they would have some idea of what she should do or someone who could help her.

Using the table for cover, she lifted her skirt and withdrew the oilskin pouches from the pockets she'd sewn on her petticoat. She handed them to Mr. Taggert. "I'm not sure where to begin."

Mr. Taggert leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "How about you start before the trouble began?"

"That would be in St. Louis, I guess. I told you about the accident that took my parents' lives," she said to Mr. Taggert. "They were hit and killed by a runaway freight team in a terrible accident," she said, bringing Jace and Leah up to date with the information Mr. Taggert already knew. "I met Eugene at their funeral. He was a friend of my parents. My father was a newspaper editor in Philadelphia. Eugene was a reporter. My father had edited many of Eugene's news pieces, I learned. It was strange to run into him in St. Louis. He told me so many stories of their work together that I almost felt as if my parents were still alive. When he found out that I was left alone, he offered to escort me back to Philadelphia."

"Did you go back?" Jace asked, an edge in his voice.

She shook her head. "I couldn't. There was nothing to go back to. My parents had sold everything to realize their dream of moving west. They had purchased a small spread outside Yankton. Moving there was something they'd worked toward for years. I wanted to see their dream fulfilled. I told Eugene that was where I was headed. He was thrilled. He was heading off to the Dakotas to investigate a story about the corruption rampant in the Indian agencies. We talked endlessly for a week. He was a shoulder to cry on. He helped me get through the first shock of losing my parents. When the week ended, I didn't want to lose him. He felt the same way. We married before the justice of the peace. He left the next day for Yankton."

"He left you the next day?" Leah asked.

"There were people waiting for him. He had appointments to keep. Yankton was still fairly rustic. He wanted to locate the land and get a cabin built before I came out. We divided the money my parents left me, half for me to live on until he returned, half for him to set up our homestead."

Jace shook his head.

"Let me guess. You never heard from him again," Logan said.

"I did get letters from him. In the beginning. They became more infrequent. I decided late the next spring, after a year of being apart, to follow him to Yankton. My funds were running low. I had no choice."

Logan leaned forward and propped his arms on the table. "What happened when you caught up with him?"

She was silent a moment, lost in her memories. "He was not happy to see me. He said it was too dangerous for me to live there. He wanted me to go back to Philadelphia. He had discovered one of the a.s.sistants to the Indian agent was forging fake land deeds and selling them. He'd infiltrated the group responsible, using a different ident.i.ty. He said some people knew him as Gene Mapleton, that if someone addressed him as such when I was around, I was to show no reaction, and in fact I should claim to be a cousin of his."

"Did you ever see your ranch?"

"Yes. He had built a cabin there. We stayed there nearly a month before things began to fall apart." She sighed. "He showed me those deeds." She nodded to the papers on the table. "He said Pete Bederman, the a.s.sistant agent, had faked them. He wanted me to draft more like them. When I refused, we fought." She paused. It hadn't just been an argument. He'd bloodied her nose and mouth, said Pete would do that and worse to both of them if Eugene didn't produce more fake deeds for him to use. That was when she'd realized what a terrible mistake she'd made marrying him.

"He was gone frequently during that month, for days at a time. And when he left the next morning, I'd decided I had to leave as well. I hid these papers in a trunk. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew it was illegal and I didn't want him to use those deeds. I had a neighbor store them. When I came home that evening, we fought again. He was upset that I hadn't been home copying deeds. And then Swift Elk and his men raided our home. My husband died that night."

"Someone knew these papers were still out there," Logan said, looking at the different deeds.

"Bederman?" Jace asked.

"When I came back to the fort," Sarah said, "I sent word to my old neighbor to have my trunk sent to me at the fort. She'd stored the chest in the loft in her barn. She said her home had been hit by thieves who had ransacked their meager belongings, that she was glad she had stored it in the barna"they hadn't found it. It was all that remained of their household. I thought nothing of that, until my room at the fort was also ransacked. And then my hotel room at the Inter-Ocean. I believe they were looking for these doc.u.ments."

The doc.u.ments were pa.s.sed around the table. "Gene Mapletona"your husband's aliasa"is listed on one of these deeds," Jace commented.

Sarah nodded. "He said he had to buy one so that Pete Bederman and his a.s.sociates would believe his false ident.i.ty. That false ident.i.ty was one of the reasons Eugene didn't want me to be with him. The settlement we lived in was close enough to the fort that some people knew him by another name."

Mr. Taggert and Jace exchanged a look. "I know Bederman," Mr. Taggert said. "Some strange dealings have been laid at his feet. I wouldn't put it past him to be running these bad deals. He's angling for an Indian agent a.s.signment in the Dakota Territory. He's made no secret of the fact that he thinks those lands should be opened to white settlement."

Sarah looked at Leah. "So you see, Mr. Taggert was right to condemn me for bringing trouble to Defiance. If he found me, Mr. Bederman could, too."

"What were you doing at the sheriff's office in Cheyenne?" Logan asked.

Sarah sent him a sharp look, wondering how he knew about that. "I was going to give him these deeds and ask for his help." She looked at the three people gathered around the table. "But there was a wanted poster listing my name on it. I'm wanted for forgery. I did not draft these or any deeds."

Logan made a face. He pulled a stiff piece of folded paper out of his pocket and handed it to Jace. "It seems you are indeed a fugitive."

"I've never forged anything in my life. I've never lived outside the law." She looked at Mr. Taggert. "I didn't do this."

Logan studied her, letting his face reveal nothing of his thoughts. He neither accepted her innocence nor her guilt. If her story was to be believed, she'd been easy pickings for Hawkins. "How about the sheriff here? Is he trustworthy?"

Jace nodded. "Took us a couple of years to find one worth having, but Cal Declan is a good man. You want to bring him into this?"

"I think we'd better. And then I'm going to get Mrs. Hawkins out of town."

"Good idea," Leah said. "She'll be safer if no one knows where she is. It would be hard to hide her here, with so many people around. Maybe the sheriff can locate Bederman, see what he has to say about this." She looked at Logan. "Your family misses you. You should stop by and see them. We share any news we hear of you from your rare communications with us. We all worry about you."

Logan frowned. He sent the obligatory Christmas letters to his friends and family. Most years. His feelings for his father and brother weren't settled, even now. He wasn't too anxious to see them. He'd traveled this close to home many of the last spring seasons to trade with his Sioux friends and had never felt the desire to go up to the ranch and see his stepdad.

"I have some trading to do with a group of Sioux." He looked at Sarah, who sat stiffly in her seat. "And then, I guess I will take Mrs. Hawkins to the Circle Bar. She can wait there while I track down Bederman."

Two hours later, the four of them sat in front of a frowning Sheriff Declan. He stared at the papers spread out on the table before him, fingering the wanted poster. "I agree something doesn't smell right. You said your husband died in the raid?"

Sarah nodded. "His body was found in the burned remains of our cabin. He was buried on our property."

Sheriff Declan's gaze moved to Logan. The two men regarded each other silently for a long moment. "I know your family, Mr. Taggert. They're upstandin' folk, but I don't know you. I can't release Mrs. Hawkins into your custodya"you're no kin of hers. I have no choice but to place her in protective custody until we get this figured out."

"Cal! No! She can stay with us," Leah offered.

"No," Sarah calmly rejected her offer. "It is too dangerous. Mr. Bederman will find me. He's hunting me. He went to a place as remote as Fort Buford, tracked me to Cheyenne; he'll come to Defiance, too. I will put you and your family in grave danger if I stay at your house."

Logan looked at Sarah. He didn't want her out of his sight. When he'd first seen her this morning, he'd felt a maelstrom of emotions. Relief, rage, confusiona"all of it was only now beginning to settle down into fear. Some part of Sarah's mind still believed her husband was innocent. Logan didn't hold so revered an opinion of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Eugene Hawkins had been a dangerous man playing a deadly game. He'd stalked her at her parents' funeral, made himself indispensable to her, then taken her money and her land and left. What kind of a man did something like that to a grieving woman?

He wanted Sarah under his protection. He'd found her. He'd rescued her. He was keeping her. "We can step over to the church and say the words in front of the preacher. Right now."

He was ready to have a wife. She needed protection. It was as good a reason as any to get married. He wasn't in love with her, so he wasn't in danger of falling for her machinations the way his stepfather had for his mother's shenanigans. And they were putting her troubles before the law. If she was guilty, then the truth would come out. And if she was innocent, she deserved to have someone stand up for her.

"I can't marry you, Mr. Taggert."

"Sheriff, do you have a room where Mrs. Hawkins and I could have a private conversation?"

Cal nodded toward the back of the jailhouse. "There's a small kitchen back there. Leave the door open."

Logan stood up and waited for Sarah to precede him into the room. He held the door open for her, then closed it behind him, disinclined to let the others overhear their private discussion. Crossing his arms, he spread his feet and faced her. "I suppose we both have questions and issues about getting married. You first. What are your objections to our getting married?"

Sarah turned a fiery shade of red. "I will never again be intimate with a man." She stared at the floor while making that announcement. "I will not share a marriage bed with you."

"That's it?"

She flashed a look at him, then returned her gaze to the floorboards. "That's it."

"Did the men who ravaged you leave you with a disease?"

She shook her head, her color deepening. "No. The doctor at Fort Buford examined me. There is a chance that I cannot bear children, which isn't an issue because I will never become pregnant."

Logan studied the woman who stood so rigidly before him. Life had dealt her a rotten hand of cards. Her choices had been made for her at every turn. And here he was forcing her into yet another direction she might not want to go. He knew he would be a good husband to her, but there was no way she could know that. And her experiences with men so far had been anything but healthy.

He remembered the panic he'd felt seeing her ransacked room, knowing she was alone and hunted. After a few hours' rest, he'd started for Cheyenne, nearly killing his pony to get here as fast as he could. Maddie had been his first stop in town. She always knew what was happening, knew all the gossip. If Sarah had come to Defiance, Maddie would know it. And she had.

He looked at Sarah, trying to figure out what it was that kept tugging at him. His old hat hung by its thong off the back of her neck, a beat-up, trail-worn wreck of a hat. It was no fashion statement. Why was she still wearing it?

"Mrs. Hawkins, you're still wearing my hat."

"Yes." She looked at him. "Do you want it back?"

"No. I bought another. But why are you still wearing it?"

Her gloved hands gripped each other tightly. "It keeps the rain off my neck." She whispered the words he'd said to her when he'd put it on her.

"Is that the only reason?"

She looked up at him and then away again, folding her hands around her waist. "You are the kindest, bravest man I've ever met. Wearing it reminds me of you."

Logan felt gut-punched. Heat filled him like a dozen shots of whiskey. "I think there's room for negotiation here. I want to get married. You need to get married. The outcome is already established. At stake are what each of us gains and each of us surrenders. You don't want intimacy, and I do. How about this? We will share a bed, but I will not claim my marital rights. I will not touch you in an intimate manner. I will do nothing that you don't want me to do. You determine our intimacy, or lack of it." He stepped closer to her. Crowding her. "I do claim the right to court you, to woo you away from your fears. I have the right to rid you of your enemies. I have the right to protect and provide for you. I have the right to hold and comfort you."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "But why would you want to?"

His stomach clenched. He forced himself not to reach for her. "Because I'm lonely. Because I think we will grow to care for each other. Because it's about G.o.dd.a.m.ned time someone did."

Impossibly, she straightened her back further. She held her head up and looked him in the eye. "Then, Mr. Taggert, I have the right to help you in your work, to go where you go, to be a part of your life."

"Agreed. Ultimately. But not until I have dealt with your husband's enemies. After that, we will not be separated." He wanted to lift her chin. He wanted to press his mouth to hers, to feel her surrender, but he would not break his vow. "Mrs. Hawkins, will you marry me?" He held his breath, wondering if he would force her to accept him if she said no.

She studied his eyes, weighed her choices. "Yes, I will, Mr. Taggert." She swiped the moisture from her cheeks and sent him that look of determination that he was becoming so familiar with.

He grinned down at her. Unable to stop himself, he touched the tips of his fingers to her cheek. "Thank you."

The door swung open and Sheriff Declan stood there. "Well? What's it gonna be?"

"Mrs. Hawkins has agreed to become my wife."

"Great. We'll get Reverend Adamson to perform the service in the morning."

"No. We'll do it now," Logan countered.

Leah and Jace came to the kitchen door. "He needs time to prepare," she pointed out.

"We're not waiting."

Leah let out a gleeful shout as she ran into the room. She hugged him, then Sarah. "Comea"we'll go to your room and pick out a dress while the men get everything arranged."

"I have only this dress." Sarah looked down at it and tried to straighten the worn homespun material.

Leah looked at Logan, as fierce as a mama bear over a cub. "Sally and Jim have two ready-made dresses in their general store. They're machine made, but surely one of them will be serviceable for the wedding."

"Then go get them." Logan handed Sarah his wallet. "Get what you want, whatever you need." Sarah was reluctant to take his money. He bent close to her ear as he folded her hand over his leather billfold. "It falls under my right to provide for you. Go with Leah. I'll be ready when you are."

"What will you wear?" Sarah asked him.

"Don't worry about him. I'll loan him something suitable," Jace a.s.sured her. "He'll be as pretty as he can be when you see him at the church."

Leah pulled Sarah from the room, but stopped a moment in front of Jace. Grabbing his arms, she kissed him quickly and said, "Logan's getting married! Can you believe it? Oh, I wish Audrey were here!" She was gone before Jace could react, dragging Sarah behind her.

The men stared after the women in stunned silence. Logan would have liked to have Audreya"another childhood friend of his and Leah'sa"there for the ceremony. But she lived four hours from town. There was no way she could make it before morning. And if they waited for her and her family, they would need to alert Logan's father and brother, who lived a day's ride north of town. It would be days before their nuptials could be concluded, and that was days too long. He wanted Sarah under his protection now.

"Well, then. Why don't we go get Reverend Adamson ready, Logan? Sheriffa"mind alerting Maddie? She'd never forgive us if she weren't invited."

Chapter 8.

Several hours later, the dark shadow of the church entrance yawned before Sarah. She stepped up the stairs, trying not to feel overwhelmed. This was not at all how she'd thought the day would end when she'd awoken this morning. She clutched a bouquet of sweet lilac flowers. Maddie had loaned her a veil of fragile lace, aged to ivory. The outfit she wore was a pink linen skirt and matching jacket with a white, high-necked blouse.

Maddie, Sallya"the storekeeper's wifea"and Leah had helped her bathe and do her hair. She was terribly self-conscious of her scars, but no one had said anything after the first shock of seeing them wore off. In the bustle of having her nails done, her hair dried and braided and quick tucks made in her new outfit, she'd closed her mind to the recent horrors. That time was over. She was here now. Safe. Embraced by these people who knew and loved Logan. Everyone they had met loved him, even Cloud Walker and his band.

She was very fortunate indeed to have come to this point in her life. It was hard to believe that little more than two years ago she'd married another man, a man who'd never loved her, a man who, if she were honest with herself, never meant to return to St. Louis for her. Logan, a stranger still, had shown her a higher regard than Eugene ever had.

Leah came to the door and peered out at her. "Ready?" she asked.