Lawman in Disguise by Laurie Kingery Page A

direction,” Daisy said by way of greeting as her eyes adjusted to the dusty gloom of the barn.
    â€œThey were just here,” Thorn said, answering her unspoken question.
    â€œAnd...?” She couldn’t believe the sheriff hadn’t insisted Thorn do the rest of his recovering in a jail cell.
    Her patient shrugged. “The sawbones said I was healing up well as could be expected, though he thought the wounds looked a little inflamed. And the lawman told me to watch my step around you,” Thorn added evenly, his expression giving away nothing. “The sheriff knows why I was riding with the outlaws, ma’am, and I believe I satisfied him that he has no cause to worry about your safety or Billy Joe’s, as far as I’m concerned. He says the bank president and teller are recovering well, too.”
    Relieved, Daisy let out a sigh, feeling tension draining from her shoulders. But along with the relief was curiosity, wondering what he had told Bishop that he hadn’t told her. The town sheriff wasn’t an easy man to satisfy when it came to anyone or anything that threatened the safety of Simpson Creek, Yet Dawson had apparently managed to set his concerns to rest, at least for the time being. It was an impressive feat, and it made her feel a little better about her own decision to let Dawson stay. Even if he didn’t feel he could share his full story with her, the fact that the sheriff was content with it gave her a real sense of comfort.
    Suddenly the sound of his stomach rumbling in the silence reminded her that it was long past noon and the man before her might be hungry. “Here,” she said, reaching inside her reticule and bringing out the plate of chicken and dumplings she’d wrapped in heavy paper and brought from the hotel, careful to carry it so that the food wouldn’t spill over the plate inside its wrapping. She’d stopped at the house long enough to fetch a fork and napkin from her own kitchen, knowing she didn’t dare borrow them from the hotel under Tilly’s all-seeing gaze. As it was, she’d have to make sure the waitress saw her bring the plate back. It would be all too like the woman to spread a rumor that she’d stolen it. “I brought your dinner.”
    He eyed it, but made no move to take it from her. “Did you already eat at the hotel?”
    She dropped her gaze from his. “No. But I’m not hungry,” she added too quickly before her stomach betrayed her by rumbling, too.
    â€œMiss Daisy, it’s not nice to fib to your guest, even out of politeness,” he chided gently. “That’s your dinner, isn’t it?’
    She nodded, eyes still downcast. She hadn’t dared take more than the usual modest portion she usually consumed, for if she’d placed a hearty man-size portion on the plate, Tilly might have noticed and suspected that something was up. And if her suspicions were raised, she was the sort to poke and prod until she found an answer. Once Tilly started digging around to try to find answers, Daisy might as well invite the waitress home to meet Thorn Dawson there and then, because there would be no hiding the secret from her any longer. Nor would there be any way to keep her from spreading the story all over town, and putting the worst, most damaging slant on it that she could. The only way to prevent that disaster was to keep Tilly from suspecting anything at all, for as long as Daisy could.
    â€œThen why don’t you sit down here and eat it?” he said, gesturing toward the cot.
    â€œOh no... I couldn’t...” she mumbled.
    â€œCouldn’t what, eat in front of me? Just because you don’t have enough for both of us? Please, don’t let that stop you. It hasn’t been all that long since I ate that big breakfast you left for me, so I’m not hungry, but sounds like you are. You’d be keeping me company,” he coaxed.
    Uneasily, she sat down on