To Tease A Texan. Georgina Gentry

got off at the last stop. Except out here in west Texas, Rusty Spur was the last stop, and she seemed to be out of money and out of alternatives. “Uh, yes, I’m Lacey Van Schuyler.”

      He grinned and nodded. “Lawrence is gonna be mad at me for writin’ you and signin’ his name, but once he sees you, it won’t make no never mind.”

      “You’re—you’re not Sheriff Witherspoon?”

      He shook his head. “I’m just Bill, his friend who works at the post office and telegraph office. Here he comes now.”

      Everyone turned to look at the man elbowing his way through the crowd. “Hey, Sheriff,” everyone greeted him. “Good to see you, Sheriff.”

      She turned to get back on the stage and flee, but the stage was already pulling out, leaving her stranded on the wooden sidewalk and surrounded by a friendly crowd with her fate pushing through the crowd toward her. The crowd parted, and she heard a deep voice say, “What’s all the excitement?”

      The crowd parted to let him through even as she recognized the voice. It couldn’t be, but it was. Just before she fainted dead away, Lark recognized that rascal. There was no mistake. It was Larado.

      Chapter Four

      Lark was aware that the big Texan scooped her up as she fell. Closing her eyes, she wished hard to die on the spot as she heard concerned voices around her.

      “What happened to the lady?”

      “Maybe her corset’s too tight.”

      “It might be the heat.”

      A deep male voice she recognized said, “Maybe the lady was just swept away at meeting the sheriff.”

      The sheriff? She opened one eye and thought about slamming her fist into his nose. No, that wouldn’t be smart, he’d probably bleed all over the front of her dress. As far as a corset, she wasn’t even wearing one. That, of course, would scandalize her more ladylike sister.

      Still, Larado appeared genuinely concerned as he carried her into the hotel, the whole crowd following along behind. Evidently, this was such a sleepy town, even a woman fainting was big excitement.

      His chest felt hard and warm against her face. His shirt smelled like tobacco, sunlight, and man smell. She wanted to snuggle even closer in those big arms.

      Lark Durango, are you loco? she thought. This is the same rascal who fled like a scalded cat from the bank holdup and left you to take the blame.

      She felt him place her on a piece of furniture and she opened her eyes. She half reclined on an ornate scarlet horsehair settee in the hotel lobby. Curious faces gathered around.

      The big man stared down at her, almost seeming to be concerned. “Somebody get the lady a glass of water,” he ordered, “and maybe I’d better loosen her stays.”

      That brought her sitting up straight with a start. “I’m just fine now.” How like that scoundrel to want to molest her. Lark wasn’t sure whether she was worried about him putting his big hands on her body, or exposing to the world that she wore no corset. She took a deep breath, getting ready to shout to the world that this was a wanted man, not a lawman. Why, he was so rotten, he’d steal the milk out of a baby calf’s bucket.

      “Are you all right, señorita?” A young Mexican man with a bright smile handed Larado a tin cup of water, thrusting it at her awkwardly.

      Puzzled, Lark took the cup. Funny, Larado didn’t appear to recognize her. Had she made so little an impression, then? That infuriated her. Then she remembered that she was masquerading as her twin sister. “I’m fine—just the heat. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lacey Van Schuyler.”

      “Lacey?” he asked. “That’s a nice name.”

      I’m Lark, you Stetson-wearing idiot! Remember leaving me hanging on to a pair of rearing horses while you and your low-down buddy robbed the bank? But of course she didn’t say that. “Yes, my name is Lacey, and I’ve got a twin sister named Lark.”

      She waited for him to react, but he only nodded as he knelt beside the settee. “Funny, I’m one of twins too. Course, we don’t claim the family black sheep. He’s kind of a rascal.”

      Kind of? That was an understatement of the year. Lawrence? Larado? Could there possibly be two Texans this good-looking? Lark, are you out of your mind? You knowwho this scoundrel is. There might be a lot of rascals in Texas, but surely there couldn’t be two like this one.

      The Mexican grinned and nodded toward his buddy. “Oh, this is the sheriff, the one Bill wrote you about. Sheriff Witherspoon, didn’t you say howdy to the lady?”

      “Bill did what?” Lawrence? Larado? took off his hat and wiped his forehead with a red bandana.

      The young man shuffled his boots. “Uh, maybe you’d better ask him about that, sí?”

      The old man with the missing tooth limped forward. “We was planning you a surprise, Larry.”

      The tall man scowled. “That do seem like a bit more than a surprise. Paco, you in on this?”

      The young Mexican nodded. “Sí, so is half the town. There’s no young women here and we wanted you to be happy and stay.”

      The sheriff’s face turned as white as a catfish’s belly.

      “So you had no idea about the advertisement?” Lark asked.

      “Advertisement?” Larado—or Lawrence—or whatever the hell his name was, blinked. His rugged face stayed white under the shock of black hair as if he’d been bitten by a rattlesnake. “What advertisement?”

      “Uh,” mumbled young Paco, “I think the sheriff ought to take the lady up to her room and we’ll talk about all this later.”

      “You’re damned right we will, deputy,” the sheriff growled. Then he blushed and seemed flustered. “Excuse me, ladies, for cussin’ in front of you.”

      Lark blinked. This almost bashful man was a long way from the irrepressible rascal who slapped women on the bottom and called them “sweetie.” Could there really be a twin brother after all? It didn’t seem likely, but on the other hand, she wasn’t sure the saddle bum was smart enough to pull the same kind of trick she was pulling.

      In the silence, Paco made a sweeping bow. “In case nobody’s said it, welcome to Rusty Spur, señorita.”

      “Thank you.” She didn’t feel very welcome. All the other faces were smiling at her, but the sheriff didn’t smile. He looked like he had just put his boot in a bear trap and didn’t know how to get out. Was getting married to her that horrifying to him? Was this the unmitigated rascal who had left her holding his horse while he robbed a bank?

      So the sheriff hadn’t sent for her. And by the look of his stricken face, he had no intention of getting married. How humiliating.

      “I—I just came to get acquainted.” She gulped.

      The crowd around them buzzed like flies on a sugar bun.

      “Well, now, Larry.” Bill took out a bandana and wiped his wrinkled face. “We was all in on it. It was just a little ad in the mail-order bride section.”

      “What?” Larado croaked. “Miss,” he turned to Lark, “I reckon you’ve been brought here under false pretenses.”

      “Obviously.” Lark resisted the urge to pour the rest of the cup of water on him. She gave Larado a steely glaze. “You look vaguely familiar to me, Sheriff.”

      He shook his head as the color began to return to his rugged face. “I don’t reckon we’ve ever met, ma’am. I know I’d remember such a purty girl. Now, I’ve got a twin brother who’s kind of a rascal—Larado. Maybe you crossed his path?”

      Could it be? Well, anything was possible. “Isn’t that a coincidence?”