Outlaw Wife. Ana Seymour

      Simon made no effort to soften his grimace of distaste.

      “Whatsa matter, Grant? You mean to tell me you don’t hire yourself a whore now and then over at the Red Eye? Maybe them women’s a bit tame for you? You like ‘em wild—like that she-wolf in the jail.”

      Simon pictured Willow’s gaunt face, pleading with him to look the other way and let her go free. She was anything but a she-wolf. She was as frightened as a wild rabbit, a nineteen-year-old kid trying to act brave, and worried as hell about her father, even if he was an outlaw. If they’d been on the ground, Simon would have had trouble fighting his impulse to put a fist through Sneed’s grinning face. As it was, he merely shook his head in disgust, gripped Rain Cloud’s reins and started to ride past him.

      “I intend to give her a tryout, too, before I’m through,” Sneed taunted to his back. “Might cost me a scratch or two, but she looks like she’d be worth it.”

      His good humor shattered, Simon let Rain Cloud head of her own volition in the direction of the ranch. It was none of his business, he told himself firmly. The girl had saved his life, but she’d also been part of the gang who had robbed and beaten him, he told himself for the hundredth time. It was not his responsibility to worry about what would happen to her. His mental battle lasted for about two miles. He’d almost reached Indian Head Butte when he gave up and hauled on the reins.

      “Ah, hell. We’re going back,” he told his horse. And when Rain Cloud turned her head as if to ask what in the world was the matter with her master today, he nodded in agreement with her confusion. “Yeah, I know. I’m out of my mind. Loonier than a dogie on locoweed.” Then he wheeled her around and headed back to town.

       Chapter Four

      As Simon suspected, Cissy and John were in a heated discussion by the time he got back to the jail. John was in his chair behind his desk and Cissy had planted herself on top of it, her skirts ballooning over the stacks of papers. The prisoner was in her accustomed position sitting upright against the wall. Her expression was stony, but her eyes showed that she was following every word of their conversation.

      “Simon, you came back!” Cissy cried as he walked in the door.

      “I saw Sneed on the road. Has he been here?”

      “Been and gone,” John said with a snort. “He said he had some business over at the Red Eye. That man’s a disgrace to his badge.”

      “And you’ll be a disgrace to yours if you don’t do something about this situation,” his daughter added.

      John molded both hands around his coffee cup and stared gloomily at the contents.

      “We can’t let Sneed take her,” Simon agreed. Cissy sent him a surprised but grateful look. He’d come to the conclusion on the way into town. No matter how tough Willow Davis might look in her male attire, no matter how rough the company she’d been keeping, she was a nineteen-year-old girl. Probably a darn scared one. And one who had saved his life.

      “What would happen if she just wasn’t here when Sneed came back for her?” Simon asked carefully.

      John put his head up sharply, and for the first time, Willow moved inside the cell, letting her feet drop from the cot to the floor. “What’re you saying?” the sheriff asked.

      “I wouldn’t be surprised if Sneed doesn’t surface for a day or two. A word to Brad Tilton would make certain of it.” The proprietor of the Red Eye was a respected citizen in town, in spite of the nature of his business.

      John set his cup on the desk, safely away from his daughter’s dress. “Do you mean to tell me that you think I should just let her go?” he asked, addressing Simon.

      “Yes,” Cissy answered.

      “Well…” Simon hedged.

      John rolled back his chair, stood and started pacing the room, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was thoughtful.

      “Surely you don’t think this girl is a criminal, Father…” Cissy began, but stopped talking when her father shushed her with an impatient movement of his hand.

      “Just let me think a minute,” he said.

      They all waited as the sheriff walked to the opposite wall and appeared to be studying a wall ad for chewing tobacco, which had been there since Simon was a boy.

      Finally the prisoner spoke. “I’d hightail it out of here if you let me go. I’d never be a problem again. I promise.” Her voice held a tightly leashed note of hope that made Simon’s throat go taut.

      There was a moment of silence so complete that the ticking of the sheriffs wall clock seemed to echo in the room. Then he turned around and looked from the prisoner to his daughter and finally to Simon.

      “I’ve been wearing this badge more years than this girl is old,” he said with a gesture toward Willow. “And I’m not about to let an accused felon walk out of my jail to get into who knows what further mischief.”

      Simon, Cissy and Willow all erupted at once with protests, but the sheriff waved them once again to silence, his eyes still on Simon.

      “But I can’t say as how I think any good would be served by handing her over to a snake like Sneed. So I have a proposition for you, my friend.”

      “For me?” Simon asked, confused.

      John walked over to the cell and peered in at Willow, his eyes sharp under the bushy brows. “Come on over here, girl.”

      Slowly Willow stood and walked up to the bars.

      “Were you telling me the truth when you said that Jake Patton is not your man?” the sheriff asked her.

      Willow looked as confused as Simon, but nodded.

      “You don’t have yourself a man, right?” the sheriff persisted.

      “I don’t need a man,” Willow answered sharply, her back stiffening with irritation.

      John nodded, then turned back to Simon. “I’ll let her go on one condition. I’ll release her if you agree to take her as your wife.”

      Simon’s laugh died in his throat as John continued watching him with a serious expression. “You are joking, aren’t you?” he asked his friend. He looked over at Cissy for confirmation of the ridiculous nature of John’s remark, only to feel his mouth grow dry at the stricken look in her eyes. More than anything it told him that her father’s offer had not been made in jest.

      Simon was about to speak when his protest was made for him. “You’re plumb out of your mind, Sheriff,” Willow said with an indignant laugh.

      John turned to her, his tone sober. “Would you rather go riding off alone with Tom Sneed?”

      “Why can’t you just let her go, Father?” Cissy asked, the words slightly stilted.

      “What would she do on her own? Where would she go? Do you want to just send her off into the wilderness and hope we never see her again? Would that be any kinder than letting her go to trial in Cheyenne?”

      Simon found himself backed up against the door. “Wait,” he said, holding up his hands as if to ask for peace. “I could put her up out at the ranch for a while, if that’s what you want, John. I reckon I owe her that much for saving my hide.”

      The sheriff shook his head. “Not good enough.” He walked over to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. “It says here that Miss Winifred Lou Davis is under arrest for armed robbery. Unless we want the marshal’s office swarming down on us, that person has to disappear.”

      “You mean you want me to hide her out on Saddle Ridge?”

      “I