The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 by Debra Mullins

man, who flinched. Jedidiah reached over and took Susannah’s arm, tugging her to her feet.
    “Don’t worry, Sam,” he said. “She only kills her own husbands. Your family is safe.”
    Susannah’s mouth fell open, and Jedidiah squeezed her arm in warning. The last thing he needed was Susannah ruining the false trail he had left for Caldwell.
    “Come on,” he said, tugging her towards the mounts. “I’m tired.”
    Susannah let him lead her along, then paused before Mrs. Ferguson. “Thank you for supper,” she said.
    The woman gave a curt nod in response. The evident disapproval brought a moment’s look of distress to Susannah’s face. Then, holding her head high, she followed Jedidiah from the camp.
    They reached the horses, and Jedidiah stopped her as she raised her foot to the stirrup. “Are you all right?”
    “Fine, Marshal,” she replied frostily. “Now will you help me mount or will you leave me to further humiliation?”
    He stared down at her, so proud even in adversity, and something shifted inside him. Gently, he reached out and brushed a loosened curl from her brow. She stood still beneath his touch, staring stonily at him.
    “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He had meant only to protect her with his ridiculous tale, not to hurt her.
    She nodded stiffly. Jedidiah started to say more, but then thought better of it. Without another word, he bent and cupped his hands, boosting her into the saddle. She took up the reins, staring ahead like a queen awaiting her entourage. He mounted and brought his horse alongside hers.
    She slowly extended to reins to him.
    “You know how to ride,” he said shortly, then urged the Palomino to a trot. Susannah sat there for a long moment before following.
     
     
    They made camp up in the hills. Jedidiah helped her down off the paint, then built a small fire as Susannah sat on a nearby boulder.
    The sun had set, and the first tiny stars already twinkled in the black velvet sky. Susannah watched Jedidiah as he removed the tack from each animal, his movements sure and smooth, his voice low as he murmured to them.
    The fire flickered over his face as he rubbed down each horse. Despite herself, Susannah started to relax as she watched him. Yes, she was annoyed at the man for humiliating her, but there was something soothing about his slow, steady movements as he performed so mundane a task. Fatigue weighed on her. She was simply so tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. All she wanted now was rest—and her good name back.
    Needless to say, Jedidiah Brown was not proving helpful in that area.
    She frowned down at the handcuffs on her wrists. To make up a story like he had told the Fergusons... It still stung that he had such a low opinion of her. Now she wasn’t only considered a killer, but a man-hater as well!
    She turned her gaze once more on Jedidiah. The man confused her.
    She tried to hate him. She had every reason to hate him, first for leaving so abruptly last spring, then for his lack of compassion for her now.
    She wished he weren’t so intelligent, neatly anticipating and intercepting every attempt to escape him, yet she grudgingly respected his quick wits. She wished he weren’t so strong, since he could easily overpower her physically. But she had to admit that his strength also made her feel protected. She really shouldn’t feel so attracted to him—but she did.
    He moved around the camp, setting out the bedrolls with an efficiency that bespoke years of experience. She watched as he smoothed the blankets with strong hands—hands that could manage either a gun or a woman with equal expertise. She had seen him fire a gun, and she had experienced his embrace. Either way, Jedidiah Brown was lethal.
    He sat down on the bedroll and took off his hat, running a hand through his long hair. The flames played over the wheat-colored strands and shadowed the sharp planes of his face as he glanced up at the night sky. In the flickering light, she could see the