Whirlwind Baby. Debra Cowan

all right, Miz York?”

      “Yes, certainly.” She adjusted her glasses.

      His black eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure? You seem bothered.”

      It would bother her more if she had to tell him. She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t have to, did she? Nothing of his had been taken.

      “You lose something?”

      “No.” That wasn’t a lie. She knew exactly where she’d put it. It just wasn’t there.

      He took a few steps toward her, his cowboy hat shading his eyes. “Is something missing?”

      Why did he have to be back, anyway? she thought grumpily. Yesterday, he’d stayed gone until after dark.

      He frowned. “Seeing as how I heard a noise out here last night, I’m starting to get concerned.”

      And her not answering his questions was only making him more determined. “Did… Did you take anything off the clothesline last night or this morning?”

      “Did someone make off with the laundry? If any of my property’s gone, Miz York, you’d best tell me.”

      She shifted from one foot to the other. If she had another corset, she wouldn’t say anything about it. But she didn’t have another one. And she felt half-naked right now standing here talking to him without it.

      “Listen, lady.” He took a step toward her, his gaze leveling into hers. “We had some outlaws making merry around Whirlwind not a year ago. They were known to steal clothes off lines—”

      “Something’s gone, yes, but it isn’t yours.”

      “Then whose? Yours?”

      Embarrassment seared every inch of her, but she nodded.

      “What’s gone?” Before she could answer, a slow awareness lit his eyes and his gaze slowly lowered to her breasts before returning to her face. His compelling features cautious, he cleared his throat, gesturing in her general direction. “Is it your…um, an undergarment?”

      Before she could stop herself, her surprised gaze flew to his then away. How had he guessed that? She didn’t know what she would wear until she got another corset, but she would have to figure out something. She certainly had no money to buy one right now. Georgia might be willing to lend her one, but it would be too big. Even laced as tight as it would go.

      Face burning, she started for the porch. His long legs covered the distance between them in two steps and he blocked her way. She stopped abruptly, stiffening.

      “Miz York, I know it vexes you to talk about this. It sure as hell isn’t what I want to talk about, but you need to tell me.”

      “I—I can’t.” She kept her gaze on his dusty boots.

      For a moment, he didn’t speak, then he said in a gruff voice, “I sometimes serve as a deputy for the sheriff in Whirlwind.”

      Emma’s stomach plummeted. A deputy? She thought she’d been so careful to avoid the law and now she was living with a sometime-lawman. What had she done?

      This wasn’t the place for Molly. No, Emma corrected, quickly calming herself. It wasn’t the place for her, but it might be good for her sister. Mr. Ross’s being a lawman would be perfect for Molly.

      “Over the last few months, there’s been a rash of thefts,” he said. “Farm equipment, jewelry, tools. And, lately, some things have been stolen off clotheslines. Women’s…things. Corsets.”

      The word sounded rough on his tongue and a shiver rippled up her spine. Could he tell she wasn’t wearing one? She couldn’t bear the thought.

      “Several women have had their…those stolen. I don’t know if the thefts are being committed by the same person, but you need to tell the sheriff.”

      “Oh, no!” Her gaze flew to his. “I couldn’t! I can’t.”

      It wasn’t just the humiliation of telling another man that her corset had been stolen. It was also that she needed to stay as far from Whirlwind’s sheriff as possible. If her stepfather or one of his men showed up looking for her, the sheriff would be their first stop.

      Jake Ross studied the ground then glanced up. “I know it’s embarrassing for you, but we need to tell Davis Lee.” At her frown, he added, “Sheriff Holt.”

      She could see he wasn’t going to let this go.

      “He needs to know there’s been another theft.”

      And now that Jake Ross knew, Emma would suffer anxiety every time she saw him.

      She couldn’t believe she was discussing undergarments with a man. A man she’d just met. To whom she’d been lying since setting foot on his doorstep.

      “Davis Lee’s discreet. You won’t need to worry about anyone finding out.”

      That was slightly reassuring. “Has this happened before?”

      “Not out here!”

      “Are you going to tell—”

      “I won’t say anything,” he said quickly. “To anyone.”

      She believed him. “Thank you.”

      After a moment, he said, “We should probably go today.”

      We? “I’m sure I can manage the trip. I rode out here alone, after all.”

      His eyes flashed hotly. “You’re not going alone. I don’t know where that thief is or if he’ll do something besides steal a woman’s—” He shifted uncomfortably as if his boots were too small. “I’m not sure if he’d do something more dangerous than steal.”

      “But—”

      “I’ll have the wagon ready after lunch.”

      She nodded, knowing she couldn’t protest further. He’d certainly start to wonder why she was hesitant to face the sheriff. Drat it all!

      He moved aside so she could step onto the porch. She bent to pick up the baby, aware that behind her he headed toward the clothesline.

      As if it weren’t nerve-racking enough to talk to the sheriff, now she’d have to spend the rest of the day with Jake Ross.

      Chapter Three

      They reached town a couple of hours after lunch. Being without her corset made Emma uneasy enough, but the possibility that Whirlwind’s sheriff might have already gotten information on her had her palms sweating and a hard lump wedging under her ribs. Mr. Ross guided the wagon down Whirlwind’s wide Main Street and reined to a stop in front of a weathered pine building. Several steps led up to a door with a sign hanging overhead that said Jail. She did not want to go in there.

      Their ride had been mostly silent, broken occasionally by some polite, inconsequential talk that Emma felt both of them thought awkward. And, of course, none of it had been about the baby. Jake Ross appeared not to know Molly was even there.

      The impression Emma had of the small West Texas town was that of a dusty, but neat community. The jail sat between the Pearl Restaurant, which Mr. Ross had told her about yesterday, and the blacksmithy. A hammer struck metal and Emma glanced over to see a large black man inside a frame shop working over an anvil. He nodded politely, and she nodded back.

      The low rumble of people’s voices was broken by the clop of horses’ hooves. She managed to get down out of the wagon and pick up the baby from the seat before Mr. Ross rounded the horse. Across the street behind her, she noted Haskell’s General Store, a livery and a saloon.

      She mounted the steps with her employer, pushing the glasses up her nose and tightening her hold on Molly. Despite the late August heat, Emma had worn a light shawl in an effort to make it less noticeable that she wasn’t wearing a corset.

      Mr. Ross