Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) by Julianne MacLean Page A
Authors: Julianne MacLean
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He flicked the reins. “I dragged each one of them back to jail and watched their trials, and those who hanged saw my face in the crowd. The others are still rotting in prison.”
“You dragged all of them to jail? Without shooting anyone?”
“Oh, I used my weapon plenty. Knocked ’em over the head with the handle most times. So when I said ‘dragged,’ I meant it in the literal sense.”
Jo stared at him, dumbfounded. “Oh my goodness. That was you? You’re The Bruiser ?”
He chuckled. “I reckon that’s where the name originated. You heard about that all the way up here in Kansas?”
“Yes, and that you’ve never shot a man in your entire career.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him now, this famous lawman who sat beside her. She’d had no idea….
“I have too much respect for life to go around killing people willy-nilly,” he said. “Though if I could turn back the clock, I might have shot the gunman who tried to rob Zeb the other night. Wounded him at least.”
At the mere mention of Zeb and the shooting, Jo quickly forgot her fascination. “Why is he different from the others?”
“He’s not different. He’s the same. They all are. Men who don’t respect the law need to learn they’ll get caught eventually. You see, I’m not like my father. I don’t believe in bending rules. If he had been a stronger man and had done his duty instead of being afraid, those men wouldn’t have killed him, wouldn’t have gone free for another year, killing other innocent folks.”
Jo thought about what she had done, or almost done, the other night. How she had felt there was no other choice left to her. Not surprisingly, she could sympathize with the marshal’s father.
“Your father thought he was protecting his family,” she tried to explain. “Someday, when you have children, you’ll understand it better. You’ll be ready and willing to walk through fire for them. You’ll do anything to keep them safe. Even break the law when you feel the law can’t help you, and frankly, the law isn’t always able to help innocent folks around here. You can’t begrudge your father for what he did.”
Marshal Collins gave her a steely glare. “There’s never an excuse for breaking the law.”
“That’s very idealistic.”
“Maybe so. But you can’t argue that that’s the way things ought to be, and we owe it to this world to keep striving for what’s right. My father could have protected us another way. Sent us somewhere safe until the rest of the gang was caught. He shouldn’t have done what he did. He was a judge.”
The marshal’s voice had grown almost hostile. “And to answer your question about last night’s gunman, I wish I’d shot him because he made me look incompetent, and when it comes to the law, I rely on my reputation to help me run a tight ship. With it, outlaws are more likely to give up without a fight and no one gets hurt. Without it, all hell breaks loose, and hell ain’t no place for decent folks. Tarnation, that man shot you, Mrs. O’Malley, an innocent bystander. And he shot me in the leg and tried to rob my sister’s husband. She’s been through enough after what happened to our parents. If she’d lost her husband, too…”
His voice trailed off and Jo saw how truly angry he was over all this.
“The town thinks their new marshal is a buffoon, and all because I wanted to avoid gunfire. It’s going to take a lot of time and energy to earn back any respect, and who knows what might happen in the meantime? I should have known better than to think that gunman would lower his weapon, but I thought I saw something in his eyes. Something…”
Jo leaned forward, curious. “Something what?”
“Something frightened. Something…” He hesitated again, as if searching for just the right word. “Something woeful.”
A lump formed in Jo’s throat. The marshal had seen through her that night, and if Zeb hadn’t raised his pistol, she would have
He flicked the reins. “I dragged each one of them back to jail and watched their trials, and those who hanged saw my face in the crowd. The others are still rotting in prison.”
“You dragged all of them to jail? Without shooting anyone?”
“Oh, I used my weapon plenty. Knocked ’em over the head with the handle most times. So when I said ‘dragged,’ I meant it in the literal sense.”
Jo stared at him, dumbfounded. “Oh my goodness. That was you? You’re The Bruiser ?”
He chuckled. “I reckon that’s where the name originated. You heard about that all the way up here in Kansas?”
“Yes, and that you’ve never shot a man in your entire career.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him now, this famous lawman who sat beside her. She’d had no idea….
“I have too much respect for life to go around killing people willy-nilly,” he said. “Though if I could turn back the clock, I might have shot the gunman who tried to rob Zeb the other night. Wounded him at least.”
At the mere mention of Zeb and the shooting, Jo quickly forgot her fascination. “Why is he different from the others?”
“He’s not different. He’s the same. They all are. Men who don’t respect the law need to learn they’ll get caught eventually. You see, I’m not like my father. I don’t believe in bending rules. If he had been a stronger man and had done his duty instead of being afraid, those men wouldn’t have killed him, wouldn’t have gone free for another year, killing other innocent folks.”
Jo thought about what she had done, or almost done, the other night. How she had felt there was no other choice left to her. Not surprisingly, she could sympathize with the marshal’s father.
“Your father thought he was protecting his family,” she tried to explain. “Someday, when you have children, you’ll understand it better. You’ll be ready and willing to walk through fire for them. You’ll do anything to keep them safe. Even break the law when you feel the law can’t help you, and frankly, the law isn’t always able to help innocent folks around here. You can’t begrudge your father for what he did.”
Marshal Collins gave her a steely glare. “There’s never an excuse for breaking the law.”
“That’s very idealistic.”
“Maybe so. But you can’t argue that that’s the way things ought to be, and we owe it to this world to keep striving for what’s right. My father could have protected us another way. Sent us somewhere safe until the rest of the gang was caught. He shouldn’t have done what he did. He was a judge.”
The marshal’s voice had grown almost hostile. “And to answer your question about last night’s gunman, I wish I’d shot him because he made me look incompetent, and when it comes to the law, I rely on my reputation to help me run a tight ship. With it, outlaws are more likely to give up without a fight and no one gets hurt. Without it, all hell breaks loose, and hell ain’t no place for decent folks. Tarnation, that man shot you, Mrs. O’Malley, an innocent bystander. And he shot me in the leg and tried to rob my sister’s husband. She’s been through enough after what happened to our parents. If she’d lost her husband, too…”
His voice trailed off and Jo saw how truly angry he was over all this.
“The town thinks their new marshal is a buffoon, and all because I wanted to avoid gunfire. It’s going to take a lot of time and energy to earn back any respect, and who knows what might happen in the meantime? I should have known better than to think that gunman would lower his weapon, but I thought I saw something in his eyes. Something…”
Jo leaned forward, curious. “Something what?”
“Something frightened. Something…” He hesitated again, as if searching for just the right word. “Something woeful.”
A lump formed in Jo’s throat. The marshal had seen through her that night, and if Zeb hadn’t raised his pistol, she would have
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