Page 113 of Charlotte's Reckoning
“Good heavens, man! It’s only a flesh wound,” Seth scoffed in disgust.
Once he tied his hands to the saddle, he patted the mare’s neck, uttering softly to her, “Sorry for the rough night and the unpleasant passenger, girl.”
Leading Willow, he moved to his horse. “Charlotte, you’re with me.”
As soon as she stepped from the porch, the wind and rain engulfed her. He lifted her onto the saddle, tucked her cloak more securely around her, and swung up behind her. With his arms around her, he took up the reins.
Seth set a steady pace, but not even the gusty wind and the sound of horses’ hooves churning through puddles of mud could mute Silas’ constant whining and complaints.
Chapter 28
Emotional Dynamite
Outside, the darkness of night transitioned into the gray morning sky. Although exhausted, Charlotte remained on edge from the events of the previous evening. Funny how being choked nearly to death had that effect.
Too anxious to sit still, she paced the sitting room of the town-provided sheriff’s residence. It was a single-level house north of Main Street with running water and an indoor privy, both unexpected luxuries. It had tasteful, simple furnishings and rugs scattered on the floor, but the bare walls and lack of personal items offered few clues about the man who lived there. A few books on a side table beside an oversized chair, perfect for reading, hinted at his interests.
She examined each book’s title: a detective novel,Measure for Measure(a lesser-known Shakespearean play about the law and lawyers), and a slim, cloth-bound volume of Laramie’s town ordinances.
The eclectic collection proved what she already suspected: he was a complex man, with hidden depths she had yet to discover. Because what kind of outlaw turned bounty hunter possessed both the patience and intellect to immerse himself in the works of Shakespeare and a legal text?
The outside steps creaked, and Charlotte whirled to face the door. “You should be in bed,” Seth said as he came through the door, looking as tired as she felt.
“I couldn’t sleep. Is Silas behind bars?”
“Yep. He’s locked up tight, and I put my second-most-experienced man on guard, which sadly isn’t saying much.”
“Oh, maybe you should have assigned your first to him.”
“He’s keeping an eye on Sneed. I don’t want him skipping town before meeting with Judge Simpson tomorrow.”
“Why not just arrest him?”
“I want him to believe he has won, and for everyone to witness his reaction when you enter the courtroom—alive and well—especially the judge.”
Their eyes locked, and a current of energy crackled between them. A fierce longing to run to him battled with her better judgment, and she hesitated.
True to form, Seth offered the reassurance she craved. “Why are you standing so far away? Come here, darlin’.”
She hurried to him. Immediately, enfolded in his arms, she felt a glorious sense of safety and security. It was the only place in the world she wanted to be.
With a sigh, she leaned into him, the feel of his broad shoulders beneath her palms grounding her as she curled her fingers and held on. “I’ve had a lot of awful days in my life. Surprisingly, this wasn’t the worst, but it certainly ranks near the top.”
With a gentle tug on her hair, her head fell back. He cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs caressing her cheeks before he kissed her softly. “It breaks my heart to think of everything you’ve been through. I’m sorry your life has been so difficult, Charlotte. But that’s all in the past. You’ve got me now, and I’m here to stay.”
Three men had made a similar promise: Carson, Fenton, and a long time ago, as a girl frightened by a nightmare, her papa. She gazed up into his handsome face, wishing she could believe what he said was true, but life offered no guarantees. She’d learned that the hard way. Besides, nothing for them had changed. They were the same people—a lawman and a fallen woman—living in the same small town where judgment and criticism were as common as the sunrise. No matter how much he insisted it didn’t matter, it did.
But she didn’t want to dwell on any of that right now. She was with her hero—many times over—a man she’d lost her heart to when he’d rescued her from a mud puddle and tenderly wiped her face. Who risked his reputation to be with her and insisted on protecting her despite her gentle rebukes. A man who wanted her regardless of what she’d done in the past. She was in his arms, in a house that wasn’t at risk of collapsing every time the wind blew, and there was a big, soft-looking bed down the hall.
As always, their kisses ignited a fire inside them. Fingers fumbled frantically with buttons and ties, ripping fabric of no concern in their eagerness. Lips locked, they moved as one down the hall to his bedroom, tumbling onto the bed half dressed. When Seth pulled open her blouse, a button popped, and it pinged off the wall and his murmured, “Sorry” lacked conviction.
Charlotte couldn’t care less. She didn’t want apologies. She wanted him inside her and tore at the button-fly of his denim pants. When it was openenough to reach inside, her fingers wrapped around his length at the same time he sucked greedily on her nipple. Their simultaneous groans mingled in the air. He sucked harder, and she stroked rhythmically until he broke away.
“I need to be inside you,” he said huskily, his eyes ablaze as he gazed down at her.
“I want that so much,” she replied.
They couldn’t look away as he sank into her welcoming heat and wetness. Charlotte bent her knees, cradling his hips between her spread thighs, savoring his fullness. Responding to an ache that surely must rival her own, he moved in deep, steady strokes.
