Rode Hard, Put Up Wet: Cowboy Romance (Rebels & Outlaws 2)

His lips pressed against hers. Chris Broadmoor's entire life, it seemed, had been mistakes up to this point. This time, he'd made the right decision.

It was Marie who had made the mistake. His kissed her again. He wasn't going to tell her that, though. Not if he could help it.

Twenty-Seven

Marie's night was a blur, or a haze. She hadn't figured out which, yet, but overlayed over the top of it was the night that she'd had before, the memory of all the things she'd done, what she'd said, and–

She resigned herself to the fact that she had sinned. That was the first step. She knew better, and she knew that she was going to pay for what she'd done. If she could at least confess, that would be something, but she couldn't.

Which meant that the only thing she could do was show contrition to the Lord and deal with the consequences of her actions. After all, she might have been tired, and she was certainly out of her right mind, but she was in control of her faculties, and she'd let her lust get the better of her.

It wouldn't happen again, though. She wasn't going to let it, no matter how tempting that might be. No matter how much she might think about it. It was off-limits, she knew better, and she wasn't going to slip up twice.

Naturally, she'd already spent the morning imagining what sort of other fresh, delicious hells she could have herself sent to if she found herself alone with him again. And she'd already told herself that it wasn't going to happen, but she'd had her fingers crossed.

She awoke Sunday morning feeling as refreshed as she could feel, sleeping on a sofa. One broken spring sat uncomfortably under her hip. When she moved, she found that it lay under the only comfortable two inches for her hip to lie.

Perhaps it was time for a trip to Mr. Maxim's restaurant, to see how much longer they expected her repairs to take. Which was why, even though it was raining and she ought to have been waiting for Jamie to wake up, she was trudging under eaves and down boardwalks to find her way across town.

She crossed the road and kept her head down, until a voice called out to her. One she recognized.

"Howdy, stranger."

Marie's eyes rose to meet Ruby's. She had a wicked smile on her face. Apparently church had done little to curb whatever impish mood she was in.

"Ruby, hey."

"Long time, no see."

"I've been busy," Marie said, making an apologetic expression. Ruby waved it off.

"That's exactly what I hear–about you and Mr. Broadmoor, no less."

Marie's face flushed before she could deny it, and by the time that she had control of herself, whatever opportunity she might have had to refuse the claim was gone. So she stayed silent and hoped that Ruby wouldn't press her.

"Well, you'll want to know, then. Folks said they seen that bartender of yours acting mighty funny, the past few days."

"They seem to think he 'acts funny' as a matter of course."

Ruby shrugged. It wasn't exactly an argument she'd fight. "Weirder than usual, though. Spooked."

"And what, pray tell, spooked him? Me?"

"So the story is, he got into words with some fella from out of town. He rode into town, was seen playing some cards, spoke to the man behind the counter–that's Chris–and left."

"So you don't know anything about it at all?"

"Now when did I say that?"

"Okay, then. Spill it." She smiled and gave a little wink, as if to say that they were just talking. Which, to be fair, they were, for now. She would be just talking until she talked to Chris about it, later.

"Well, this is where things get funny, right? So take this with a grain of salt. But some folks said that he was a Marshall, going to take the boy in for some murder he did, down in Texas."

Marie raised an eyebrow. "A murder. In Texas. A ranger."

"Hey, I'm just telling you what was told to me. You know, you really ought to come to church. Then you wouldn't need me tellin' you all this juicy stuff."

"Yeah, I'm thinking that maybe they wouldn't altogether approve of me."