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Chapter 3

“Shhh…” he whispered to the lost girl as he turned her in his arms and pulled her against him.  Why he was so concerned about her welfare, Lindsey didn’t know.  But the thought of another touching her brought out his long dormant protective instincts. 

When her tears subsided, he guided them to her bed and eased her down onto its narrow surface.  Lindsey knelt in front of her and undid the lacings of the boots she wore and slipped them off.  Once finished with his task, he lifted her legs up on the mattress so that she could stretch out on top of the covers. 

He made quick work of removing his boots and gunbelt, hanging the latter on the bedpost closest to him.  His vest and shirt were stripped away and carelessly tossed to a vacant chair, leaving him clad in just his jeans and socks.  Paying no attention to her shocked gasp, he settled on the narrow bed beside her and drew her into his arms. She stiffened, but eventually relaxed when he did nothing more than hold her. 

“What’s your name?” Lindsey murmured against her forehead. 

Tara bit her lip anxiously.  To tell him her name would make this nightmare real, and right now, she wanted nothing more to wake up in her girlfriend’s arms, relieved that these last few hours had just been a bad dream.  Even if the lawman’s arms wrapped around her back, her cheek pressed against his bare chest, left her feeling somewhat safe…and cherished. 

Lindsey put his hand beneath her chin, applying gentle pressure to force her to look up at him. 

“Your name?” he coaxed. 

“I…”  Her eyelids lowered, shielding herself from his penetrating stare. Then she lowered her head, breaking the fragile hold he had on her as she attempted to look anywhere but at him. “It doesn’t matter…it’s whatever you want it to be.” 

The silence was deafening after her comment, but Tara refused to open her eyes and look at him.  She’d cried once already, and to see the borderline pitying look in his eyes would be more than she could handle.   She chose instead to get mad.  Mad at herself, her fate…mad at the gut-wrenching existence she’d lived for most of her life that culminated into her being reduced to this. 

“Trixie.  Lulu.  Rosie.  Mae…Take your pick,” she spoke suddenly.  “Besides…in an hour you’ll be gone and—” 

“Shhhh.”  Lindsey silenced her tirade with a finger pressed lightly to her lips.  Then replaced his fingers with his lips, doing nothing more than lightly brushing them against her own.  He felt her stiffen at the contact but she didn’t try to push him away.  Rather, she seemed to wait, as if seeing what he’d do. 

His body was telling him to shuck his pants and slide into her liquid warmth, but for once, he ignored his dick and concentrated his efforts on her full, lush mouth.  Nipping lightly at first the top lip, then the lower.  Tracing his tongue along the outer rim.  He was rewarded minutes later when she relaxed against him, her breathy sigh catering to his bruised male ego in the wake of Darla’s rejection. 

~*~*~ 

Tara didn’t know what to think.  Until that very moment, her gift of reading other’s auras had lain dormant.  But, now?  Vibrant reds slammed into her, yet were tempered by a bit of blue and pink.  But it was the white that surprised her, interspersed among the red.  Confirming his gentle manner, his healing capabilities. 

It allowed her to relax in his embrace and accept his kiss for what it was – an attempt to soothe.  Her hands lifted to rest against his bare chest, but were still only a moment before they began to roam.  To acquaint herself with the male body pressed so close to hers.  He seemed to like her touching him, his groan against her mouth causing shivers to tingle along her spine, her nails to clench reflexively into his skin. 

Tara found herself rolled to her back, the Marshal braced on his arms as he loomed over her.  Entranced by the blue of his eyes, a color much like her own, she could do nothing but stare up at him in fascination as he looked down at her.  He was so…hard.  His body a lean machine of coiled muscle.  He was everything she’d avoided in the past, had shied away from to prevent being dominated.  Much like the males in her family had been dominating their women for centuries. 

But for some reason, with him, she found it didn’t matter.  Maybe it was the aura that surrounded him – the tarnished warrior vibe she could see radiating about him.  How he seemed to want to do better, be better, but just needed a purpose.  A reason to step away from what he’d been to become what he was destined to be.   

“Marshal?” 

“Lindsey.  Call me Lindsey,” he whispered. 

“Lindsey.”  She spoke his name softly, confirming his request.  “I like it.” 

“Yeah…well…It’s the only one I got, so I guess I’ve got to, too.” 

He winked at her, and Tara found herself grinning.  Which was a shock in itself.  Here she was, banished to the past by a vengeance demon, forced to become some doxy in a two-bit western town.  Was actually in bed with Lindsey, the town’s lawman and just minutes away from being deflowered good and proper.  Well, maybe not good and proper, but definitely deflowered.  And yet she was smiling up at the man bent on taking her virginity. 

She had to question her sanity.  Or what was left of it. 

The tears came unbidden this time.  Proved her weakness.  Goddess, she wished they’d just stop already!  But rather than take advantage of it, the Marshal just settled himself beside her and pulled her close.  His continued tenderness was her undoing, and once more the floodgates let loose.  She clung to him while she cried out her grief for what her life had become, and for what still awaited her.   

He never said a word, just soothed her as best he could until her tears dried up and the occasional shudder wracked her body. 

‘Safe,’ was her last thought before the emotional upheaval of the last several hours took its toll and she slept. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Lindsey watched the saloon girl as she slept peacefully in his arms.  There was a story there, and he wondered briefly if the senior partners had something to do with it.  Just like they no doubt had something to do with him and Darla being there. 

Carefully, so as not to wake her, he pulled his arm from where it was cradled beneath her head.  She frowned in her sleep at having been disturbed, but didn’t wake up.  Good.  The girl needed her rest. 

He stood and snagged his shirt from where he’d thrown it.  His aborted attempts to get her into bed not bothering him in the least.  He’d take his time with this one, no sense rushing things.  She was just starting to trust him, and he didn’t want to ruin their tentative – whatever it was they’d initiated – by pushing her to do something she’d later regret.  He had enough regrets to last him a lifetime. 

In the meantime, he’d have a word with the barkeep.  She was going to be off limits.  He didn’t mind her singing and serving drinks in the bar, but she was definitely not to be touched by the customers.  And if it took a bit of roughing up some of the saloon’s clientele to show that his word was law… 

His sinister grin and malevolent thoughts would have made the senior partners proud. 

With his shirt buttoned and tucked in his pants, he snagged his gunbelt and looped it around his waist securing the buckle before bending over and tying the stays about his thighs.  As he reached for his vest, his eyes encountered the Marshal badge winking at him and he chuckled self-derisively at the irony.  From lawyer to lawman – yep, only the senior partners could think up something that twisted. 

Lindsey backed out of her room, keeping one eye on her to make sure she wouldn’t wake.  With his hand on the knob, he pulled the door closed softly behind him.  He turned to tiptoe away and bumped into the girl from earlier.  She was watching him, her hands on her hips, head cocked to the side assessingly. 

“You don’t look like a man who’s had any orgasms.”  She frowned at him for a moment and continued to look him over, as if trying to resolve the matter in her mind.  Her sharp gaze as she eyed him knowingly from head to toe made him regret every lewd look he’d cast a female’s way.  He felt like he’d been stripped bare and left to be ogled by all those that passed.  “Well, it’s not for want of trying since your penis looks uncomfortably hard.” 

“Whoa!  Ok.”  His hand reached instinctively to his crotch, covering himself.  “Do you mind?” 

“I’m just saying.  You’ve been up here for over an hour.  Do you need some pointers?  Or maybe Tara might need—” 

“Tara?  Her name is Tara?” 

“Yes.  Although, she mentioned that she might change her name.  More to fit in around here.  I’m keeping my name though.  Anya has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?  Adds a bit of mystery.  Should keep the men lining up at my doorstep, so to speak.” 

“You…ahhh…really enjoy your work, don’t you?” 

“What’s not to like about orgasms?  And money.  Money for sex…it’s like the American dream?” 

“Uhhhh…” 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those men that think it’s all right for men to have all the sex they want, but women can’t.”  Anya cocked her hip to the side, arms akimbo as she quirked a brow at the Marshal. 

“No…uhh… no.  Just making an observation.  I’m all for women being liberated.  If sex is your thing, then go for it.” 

“Yes,” she nodded intently.  “Yes, sex is my thing.  And then there’s the money.” 

“Right.  Money and sex.” 

“Yep.”  She nodded again, pleased he seemed to understand. 

“Look…ah.  I’ve got to go.  Have to speak with the bartender before I get back to work.  You’ll keep an eye on Tara?  Let me know if anything…happens to her?” 

“Happens?  Like what?” 

“Just let me know if any of the men bother her.” 

“Well, of course they’re gonna bother her.  She works here.” 

“Not if I can help it,” Lindsey grumbled as he moved down the hall towards the stairs. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Lindsey smiled to himself as he walked back towards the city jail.  It had taken very little persuasion on his part to convince the barkeep to see things his way.  He’d just told the man that he was staking a claim on his “songbird” and that the others would have to content themselves with the two new girls, or the other that already worked in the saloon.  He’d raised his voice so that everyone in the tavern had heard him, his eyes making eye contact with each occupant, staring until they nodded their head in understanding. When he’d completed his circuit about the room, he turned back to the barkeep and told the man Tara was sleeping. 

His grin alluded to the fact that he’d worn the girl out, when it couldn’t have been further from the truth.  But, he’d seen the sudden recognition in the man’s eyes.  How he smirked conspiratorially.  He’d left then, claiming that he had to see to his prisoner, the comment causing the tavern’s occupants to still momentarily. 

He let himself in the door, covering a smile as he watched his deputy lurch to his feet at his presence. 

“How’s our prisoner, Pete?” 

“He’s just dandy,” the prisoner answered for the flustered deputy.  “Though, can’t say the same for you, Marshal, once my brother rides in to town.” 

“Shut up, Clance,” Pete hollered back. 

“You gonna come make me, Deputy?” he sneered the moniker. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, Marshal.  Clance’s got a mouth on him since his brother’s developed a reputation for being a fast gun.  What with the duel he won last week up Chipoto way.” 

“You just wait, Marshal.  Clem’s gonna come spring me.  See if’n he don’t.” 

Lindsey walked to the open doorway that led to the jail’s iron cells.  He stepped just inside, leaning up against the wall as he looked over his prisoner. 

“So, your brother thinks he’s a gunslinger now?” he commented as he pulled one of his Colts out of its holster and twirled it around his finger.  He stopped suddenly, catching the gun by the butt and pointing it at the unkempt man backing away from the bars.  Lindsey eyed his gun, cocking it from side to side as if inspecting it for any flaws, not bothering to look at his prisoner. 

“What’s that, Clance?” Lindsey commented when the man didn’t comment.  “Couldn’t quite hear you there.” 

Clance sat down on his bunk and looked away. 

Lindsey set his pistol to twirling around his finger for a moment before reholstering it.  He pushed away from the wall and went to rejoin his deputy in the other room. 

“Anything else I need to know about?” he asked Pete. 

“Nah.  Been kinda’ a quiet week.” 

“Good.  I’m headed back to the saloon.  Come get me if you need me.”  Lindsey raised his voice.  “Or, if Clance feels like getting out of line again.” 

“Will do, Marshal.”

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