Shadow Walker by Connie Mason Page A

identity of the skinny woman wearing cast-off men’s duds sizes too big for her but decided to bide his time. But the shock of learning that Billy Cobb had had a wife was clearly evident in his incredulous expression.
    “Cobb was married? Well, I’ll be damned.” He tipped his hat. “Howdy, Mrs. Cobb.”
    Dawn raised her head slightly, her eyes wary as she nodded to Tayler. “Please call me Dawn. I don’t care to be identified with Billy Cobb.”
    If Tayler was shocked by the livid bruises on Dawn’s face he didn’t show it. “Can’t say as I blame you. Cole says the reward money is to go to you. I’ll see that you get it.”
    Dawn said nothing, but inside she was fuming. Damn Cole Webster for assuming she’d take his charity! She had money, plenty of it, if he’d just go away so she could claim it.
    “Have you recovered the train loot yet?” the sheriff asked.
    “No, but I will,” Cole said fiercely. “I’ve never failed yet. I might have to dig up the whole damn yard but I’ll find it. If you have no further need of us, Sheriff, Dawn and I have business to conduct.”
    “What business do we have in town?” Dawn asked as they rode away from the jailhouse.
    “First off we’re going to visit the general store and buy you something decent to wear.”
    Dawn reined in sharply. “I don’t want your charity.”
    “It’s not charity. When I killed Cobb I cut off your only means of support. It’s no more than right that I make amends. Buying you a few new duds isn’t going to beggar me. Later you’ll have the reward money, but unfortunately it won’t last forever.”
    Dawn’s blue eyes flashed with resentment. “That’s another thing. I won’t accept the reward, it’s yours.”
    Cole grinned. “You sure are one stubborn woman.” He grasped her reins and took off down the street. Dawn’s mount followed obediently behind him. Its rider was not so docile.
    Cole dismounted in front of Cartwright’s General Store, swung Dawn from the saddle despite her protests and tethered their horses to the hitching post. Dawn balked when Cole took her hand and led her through the door but finally acquiesced when she saw people staring at them. The last thing she wanted was to bring attention to herself.
    “Can I help you, mister?”
    Cole smiled at the proprietor, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a potbelly. “Are you Mr. Cartwright?”
    The proprietor’s chest expanded proudly. “That I am. What do you need?”
    Cole pulled Dawn out from behind him. “New clothes for the lady. From the inside out. And boots. Everything she might need.”
    Cartwright peered owlishly at Dawn, adjusting his spectacles to make sure he was seeing right. “She’s a half-breed, ain’t she?”
    Dawn stiffened, but Cole seemed unperturbed. He gave Cartwright a daunting look. “That’s right. So what? Are you refusing my money?”
    “Joseph Cartwright! You have no right acting like a self-righteous prude. Go about your business, I’ll take care of things here.”
    Cartwright skulked off, obviously intimidated by his forceful wife.
    “I’m Lucinda Cartwright. You’ll have to excuse my husband, he can be a mite thick-headed at times.” A round little woman with rosy cheeks and a sweet smile, Lucinda Cartwright was a staunch advocate of women’s rights. Be they red, white or black, Lucinda believed that all women deserved consideration from the opposite sex. And the right to vote.
    “Now then, I believe you said you’d like your wife outfitted properly,” Lucinda said, sizing Dawn up with a practiced eye. “She’s a mite skinny, but I’m right handy with a needle. I can alter anything that doesn’t fit.”
    Startled to hear herself referred to as Cole’s wife, Dawn raised her head and looked Lucinda in the eye. “I’m not his wife.”
    Lucinda saw the yellowing bruises marring Dawn’s pale cheeks and gave Cole a look that would have slain lesser men. “Oh, my, you poor child. What happened to