Lone Ridge, Texas 1880s
Victoria Thurston paced back and forth across her neatly
organized office at the rear of the bakery she had owned and
operated for the past eighteen months. She paused to inhale
a fortifying breath as she staredโfor the forty-eleventh
timeโat the disturbing letter she had received from her mother.
You have become a successful businesswoman, she reassured
herself. You should have enough self-confidence to approach
Marshal Daniels with your request.
Only she hadn't worked up enough
nerve yet.
Victoria huffed out her breath, hoping to relieve the knot
coiling in her stomach. Every time the vision of Marshal
Logan Daniels popped to mind, she broke into a sweat. Yet,
the city marshal was the only man alive who could resolve
her problem and place her in good standing with her parents.
"Otherwise, I'll have to conveniently dispose of the city
marshal," she mumbled to herself. "That might alleviate my
immediate problem, but it will spoil the festive holiday
season."
"What am I saying!" she scowled at herself. "Just get this
over with so you'll know if you have to resort to drastic
measures."
Before her firm resolve fizzled out Victoria wheeled toward
the door. She locked up the bakery, drew herself up to the
full extent of her five-foot-six-inch stature and pelted
toward the marshal's office. Still a bundle of twitching
nerves, she halted outside the door to drag in a calming
breath. Not that it helped. She was a nervous wreck and she
had yet to utter one word of her unusual proposition.
Although she had been practicing what she intended to say
for the past half hour, her mind went blank when a deep,
commanding voice boomed like a cannon from the other side of
the door.
"Stop that racket and sit down right now!"
Victoria's confidence shattered when the city marshal
whipped open the door and nearly mowed her over on his way
out. The scowl on his bronzed face evaporated as he stared
down at her. She felt dwarfed by his muscular
six-foot-three-inch frame and her resolve crumbled in one
second flat. She squelched the impulse to turn tail and run
back to the bakery.
The powerfully built marshal, who was even more physically
appealing at close range, stared at her quizzically. She
gathered her bravado and tilted her head back to meet his
dark-eyed gaze.
"Marshal, I'd like a word with you, but if I have come at a
bad time, I can return later," she said over the racket
ricocheting off the cells at the rear of the office.
Logan Daniels tipped his hat politely then gestured for her
to come inside. "Now is fine, ma'am. My prisoner can chew on
his fingernails to stave off hunger until his breakfast
arrives."
"I could bring him some pastries from my bakeryโ"
"No need," he interrupted as he gestured for her to take a
seat. "I'm sure Henry Porter will be here shortly. I was
going to check on him but we'll wait him out." He glanced
curiously at her. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"
Victoria plunked into the chair, but nervousness put her
back on her feet as the marshal sank into his seat behind
his deskโwhich was as well organized as hers. She glanced
toward the cells where a male prisoner was scraping his tin
cup against the metal bars and demanding to be served
breakfast immediately. When she re-focused on the ruggedly
handsome marshal, her courage faltered once again.
"Pipe down, Tanner, or you'll skip breakfast altogether,"
the marshal thundered ominously.
Victoria wrung her hands, fiddled with the pleats of her
green dress then drew in a determined breath. "You probably
don't know me, Marshal, butโ"
"You're Victoria Thurston," he interrupted, watching her
curiously, while she paced back and forth across the office.
She halted then blinked. She was surprised he knew her.
Although they hadn't been formally introduced, she had
admired him from afar since she opened for business.
"Please call me Tori," she requested.
He smiled slightly then inclined his raven head. "Very well,
Tori. How can I help?"
The moment of reckoning had come. She bolstered her courage
and blurted out, "I have a proposition for you."
"Really? I usually arrest women who proposition me."
She hadn't expected a teasing sense of humor from a man who
was in the very serious business of dealing with murderers
and thieves. Since he was having fun at her expense, she was
not particularly amused. She was far too nervous and
apprehensive for that.
"Let me rephrase that, Marshalโ"
"Logan," he corrected with a smile. Then he glared over his
shoulder when Tanner commenced scraping his cup against the
bars again. "I told you to clam up!"
His loud voice made her flinch. She shifted uneasily from
one foot to the other, ready to get this over with. "I would
like to hire you for the holidays. I will pay you
exceptionally well for your assistance, Marshal."
Both dark brows shot up his forehead.
"Hire me?" he
parroted. "To do what?"
Tori felt the flush of embarrassment suffuse her face and
neck. In all her twenty-three years, she had never felt so
awkward. Logan must have noticed her discomfort because one
black brow climbed a mite higher and his sensuous lips
twitched as he studied her astutely.
She gathered every smidgen of courage she had left and said,
"If you aren't otherwise engaged and can get away from your
duties in town, I would like to hire you to be my husband
for the holidays."
His onyx eyes nearly popped from their sockets and his
unshaven jaw scraped his chest. He stared at her as if she
were a strange and curious creature from another galaxy far,
far away.
"Marry you?" he chirped.
"Pretend to," she amended hastily, and then went
back to her pacing.
When Tanner struck up another racket to complain about his
delayed breakfast, Tori whirled toward the door leading to
the cells. She glared at the scraggly haired, unkempt
prisoner who stopped making a commotion to stare owlishly at
her.
"Sir," she said tersely. "I am having a serious conversation
with the marshal. Where I come from it is considered very
rude to interrupt. I will gladly furnish you with a variety
of pastries from my bakery if you will allow me to conduct
my business here."
Tanner kerplunked onto the cot and stared curiously at her.
"What flavors you got, bakery lady?"
"Apple, peach and vanilla-filled tarts that will make your
mouth water," she tempted him.
He nodded his greasy brown head agreeably and flashed a
smile that called attention to his two oversize front teeth
that reminded her of a horse. A moment later, Henry Porter
arrived with a tray from his restaurant.
Tanner glanced from the stocky, bald-headed cafรฉ proprietor
to Tori. "I still get the pastries, too. Right?"
"Certainly. My treat. And happy holidays to you, Tanner,"
she said cheerily.
"Not gonna be happy days if I have to spend them in the
calaboose," Tanner grumbled. "I'm innocent."
"No, you aren't," Logan scoffed in contraction as Tori
stepped aside to let Porter slide the tray of food under the
bars.
Logan appraised the strikingly attractive bakery owner
pensively as she came toward him. He was still reeling after
her unexpected request. He couldn't fathom why this shapely
brunette, who had discouraged potential suitors since her
arrival in town, wanted him to marry her.
Pretend to
marry her, he corrected silently.
What was the catch? There had to be a catch. There was
always a catch. Logan was a man who dealt inโand
dispensedโconsequences. Plus, in thirty-two years of
hardscrabble existence, he'd learned that nothing was what
it seemed.
Call him a cynic, but he'd suffered through enough life
experiences to know that nothing was simple. Especially this
attractive female with her startling Christmas request.
His appreciative gaze swept up and down Tori's alluring
physique for the tenth time as she approached him. Her
curly, mahogany-colored hair glistened in the light. Her
luminous evergreen eyes, rimmed with long, sooty lashes,
focused directly on him. Her face was still flushed and the
scooped neck of her gown indicated that her flush extended
farther south.
Logan wondered just how far south her blush went.
This wasn't the first time he'd visualized Tori naked, he
was ashamed to say. But she had rejected so many eager
suitors the past eighteen months that he had kept his
distance. People had been trying to gun him down for years.
He didn't need to be gunned downโin a manner of speakingโby
a woman. Even the one who had caught his eye the moment she
arrived in town.
"Now then, Marshalโ"
"Logan," he corrected again.
"Yes, of course, Logan. I realize this is highly unusual."
"You can say that again," he mumbled. "Why do you need to
hire a husband?"
"Not just any husband," she inserted quickly. "Just you in
particular."
Logan supposed he should be flattered, but he was too
cautious by nature and profession not to expect the other
boot to drop. "Explain," he requested.
Tori opened her mouth to do just that, but she clamped her
lips together when Henry Porter breezed into the main office.
"Sorry for the delay, Marshal," said Henry. "We had an
excessive number of customers show up at the same time this
morning. The town council is having breakfast while
reviewing the last-minute details for the town's holiday
festivities."
"Not a problem for me, but Tanner is a bit on the impatient
side. Which is why he tried to take money from the bank
before he made a deposit," Logan said wryly.
Henry snickered as he nodded his shiny head. Then he smiled
at Tori and doubled at the waist in a respectful bow.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Miss Thurston. I trust you
will furnish us with a few of your delicious pies this
afternoon. The usual half dozen, I hope?"
"Of course. I'll get started after I finish my conversation
with the marshal," she assured him.
Logan bit back a grin when Henry exited and Tori wrung her
hands while she paced.
"I made a critical mistake," she admitted. "However, I did
prevent my father from forcing me to close down my business
and return home to Fort Worth." She whirled around to pace
in the opposite direction. "Six months ago, when my parents
insisted that I come home to marry the 'nice young man' they
had earmarked for me, I informed them that I had married the
marshal of Lone Ridge so they needn't fret over my safety
here in West Texas."
Logan barked a laugh then compressed his lips when Tori
halted to narrow her eyes at him. "So we have been married
for six months already, have we? You do know where people go
for lying, don't you?" he teased mischievously.
She planted her hands on his desk and leaned forward. His
gaze dropped to the enticing hint of cleavage she
unknowingly displayed. Logan had the wildest urge to reach
out to drag her across his desk and kiss those lush pink
lips right off of her. He was grateful that he was sitting
behind his desk. Otherwise, she would know exactly howโand
to what extentโshe was affecting him.
"It was a white lie," she insisted self-righteously.
"How do those compare to the black ones?" he couldn't help
but taunt. "How much are you willing to pay for the white
lie that involves
me?"
She pushed away from the desk and stood erect. "As much as
you make in two months," she tempted him.
He whistled, impressed, then said, "Plus my bounties and
rewards? Your bakery must be doing well."
"Plus bounties
and rewards?" She scowled
at him. "I never expected highway robbery from a
well-respected law enforcement officer."
He shrugged and grinned. "White lies don't come cheap, you
know. You have to pay here and now or in the Hereafter. Your
choice."
When she flashed him an agitated glance, he bit back another
grin. Teasing Victoria Thurston was the most fun he'd had in
a long time. She added an intriguing spark in his otherwise
difficult life of dealing with thugs and scalawags who
refused to call a moratorium, just because it was the
Christmas holidays.
"Very well then, I'll pay the equivalent of two month's
salary
plus bounties,
if you agree to
accompany me to Fort Worth for the holidays." She stared
hopefully at him. "You can get away for a few days, can't
you? Deputy Horton can fill in, can't he?"
"If I ask him nicely, I suppose."
Gabe Horton, like Logan, had no family to visit during the
holiday season. Ordinarily Logan and Gabe worked the
holidays together and shared Christmas dinner over the desk
in the office. Hell, Logan had no idea what it was like to
share the holidays with family. It would be a new experience
for him. Maybe afterward he'd fully understand the jokes
he'd heard about dealing with in-laws.
Tori half collapsed in relief. "Thank you," she gushed. "I
backed myself into this corner when I informed my parents
that I was married. If you hadn't agreed to come with me, I
was going to have to concoct a tale of your extraordinary
bravery and your unfortunate demise in the line of duty."
Logan chuckled when he discovered this spirited female had
planned to dispose of himโfiguratively speakingโif he didn't
agree to her holiday charade. This was an entirely new twist
from criminals who actually
had been trying to kill
him for years, in hopes of escaping the long arm of the law.
"Mind if I ask why you didn't inform your parents that I had
to be on duty during the holidays and we couldn't get away?
That's a reasonable explanation."
Tori went back to her restless pacing. Not that he minded.
It gave him the opportunity to admire her feminine physique
without staring rudely at her enticing curves and swells.
"My older sister, Priscilla, her husband and her
five-year-old son are coming from Boston for the holidays.
It's her yearly visit to Texas," she elaborated. "Since I
was busy establishing my business last year, I stayed here
for the holidays. My parents sent out the royal command that
you and I must put in an appearance because no one has met
you. Therefore, I'm forced to produce you for their
inspection or dispose of you and arrive in widow's digs,
lamenting my lost love."
"You wouldn't have had to kill me off," he suggested. "You
could have hired an imposter since none of your family has
met me. Edgar Scott from the general store has a terrible
crush on you, you know. He might have taken the job for
nothing."
She paused to glare over her shoulder at him. Then she
wrinkled her nose, shook her mahogany-colored head and said,
"Edgar isn't my type."
"And I am?" he teased devilishly. "What is your type, Tori?"
"You are having entirely too much fun at my expense," she
grumbled. "If I wasn't at your mercy, I would have plenty to
say about it, I promise you that."
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