Golden Chances (Borrowed Brides 1)

She answered him with a question of her own. “What about Coalie?”

“What about him?” David took a sip of coffee.

“Is he all right? Was he hurt?”

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now it’s your turn,” David reminded her. “I answered your question. You’re supposed to answer mine.”

“Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you here?”

“That’s two more questions.” David shifted his weight on the uncomfortable chair, then stood up. “My name is David Alexander. I’m an attorney. I’ve come to offer my services.”

Tessa snorted in disbelief. It was a tiny, elegant snort, but a snort all the same. “Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Maybe,” David answered.

“No, thank you. I’ll keep my own counsel,” Tessa replied, not wanting to admit she didn’t have the money to pay him. She didn’t want to admit the pittance she earned at the Satin Slipper barely covered room and board.

“That wouldn’t be wise.” David looked at her closely. She obviously didn’t want him as an attorney. And he certainly didn’t need the aggravation. He studied the dark bluish rings under her eyes and the way her teeth bit at her bottom lip. She might not want him, but she needed him. And for some reason he wanted to help. “You’re going to need a good attorney, Miss Roarke.”

“Are you a good attorney?” The musical lilt in her voice was very pronounced.

“My clients think so.”

Tessa stood up and took a couple of steps toward him. “What about you, Mr. Alexander? Do you think you’re the best?”

“Not the best,” David answered. “But good.”

“Good enough for a saloon girl accused of murder?”

“Yes,” David told her.

“At least you’re honest.” She turned on her heel and walked back to the cot, carefully stepping around David’s coat. “I hope you’re right.”

Deputy Harris spoke from just outside the cell. “I’m gonna have to cut this short, Mr. Alexander.”

“I’m conferring with my client.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to come back later,” the deputy said. “I gotta make my morning rounds through town, checkin’ the windows and doors. I can’t leave you in the jail by yourself.”

David turned to face the lawman. “Afraid she’ll escape?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I ain’t takin’ no chances. I’ve seen her kind before,” Harris commented. “Cold-hearted murderess.” He motioned for David to step forward as he turned the key in the lock and swung the heavy iron door open. “You can come back during business hours. A few hours in a jail cell will probably do her good. Help reform her.”

Narrowing his dark gaze at the deputy in a scathing look, David stepped through the opening.

“You’re leavin’ your coat,” Harris pointed out.

David glanced to where his coat lay on the floor next to her cot. “She can keep it.”

“But it’s cold out there. The wind is biting.”

“I don’t have far to go,” David reminded him. “I’ll manage without it for now.”

Even as he said the words, David planned to return. His jacket gave him an excuse. It was foolish, and he knew it, but despite his experience with duplicitous women, David felt drawn to the jail and the exasperating woman locked inside it. The look she’d given him just wasn’t that of a murderess. He was convinced of it. And he knew what it was like to be misjudged.