Promised by Post. Katy Madison

he couldn’t let Rafael hang or go to jail for a misguided attempt to see his bride.

      The sheriff tucked in behind his desk. “Now, what did these horses look like, and what would you say their value was?”

      The sheriff held a pencil poised above a blank piece of paper. Daniel described his horse first, the blaze and the one sock, then Rafael’s. Then because the sheriff seemed to be waiting and perhaps the two horses matched too exactly, he described his brother’s favorite piebald stallion.

      He bit his tongue hard before suggesting the horses had been stolen by the men in order to rob the stagecoach. He wanted the sheriff to reach that conclusion, but forcing it upon him would be to paint the lily. During his hurried journey into town, the story had seemed to make sense, the inferences obvious, but now the wild concoction seemed to have more holes than the grounds basket for a coffeepot. A drop of sweat itched down his spine as he waited for the sheriff to reject his story.

      The sheriff frowned. Was he now thinking that it could have been the Werner brothers who stopped the stage? “Where is your brother?”

      “He went out to track the horse thieves. He wasn’t back when I left.” Daniel’s stomach knotted tighter and tighter as he made up excuses. “He told me to come get Miss O’Malley if he hadn’t returned in time.”

      The sheriff glanced toward Anna, then back at Daniel. Heck, he wished the man wouldn’t do that. The silences were like the screech of splitting wood, and Daniel fought to keep his shoulders level instead of up around his ears.

      “Sound like the horses you saw?” the sheriff asked Anna.

      “It could be.” She leaned toward the desk. “There are some very bad men out there.”

      Daniel tensed. Even though the sheriff was drawing the conclusion Daniel wanted him to draw, it only served to darken and twist his insides. He wanted to scream out he was lying. Instead, he recited an Ave Maria in his head—the first of the ten thousand or more he would be required to recite when he confessed his lies—unless God struck him dead first.

      “Think it might be a couple of renegade banditos—Mexicans. They spoke in Spanish.” The sheriff set his pencil down and leaned back in his chair. “Do you agree, Miss O’Malley?”

      “I wouldn’t know, sir.” She shifted in the chair as if it had suddenly grown uncomfortable. “I just know they are very dangerous. Murderous men.”

      That wasn’t fair. He hadn’t fired a shot and Rafael had only winged the armed men to halt the shooting, not to kill, but he couldn’t make that argument. Daniel wanted nothing more than to run a finger under his collar, but he tucked his hand in his belt, willing it to stay still. Certain his every expression gave away the deception, he watched the sheriff.

      “Any chance your brother could help track tomorrow?” asked the sheriff. “Sent one posse out, but they lost the trail. Going back out in the morning. Reckon Rafe’d be an asset with his skills.”

      “I don’t know that he will want to, with his bride here and all.” Daniel cast his eyes toward Anna. If he helped track, he could steer them away from the real trail. More lies, but Daniel couldn’t let them know Rafael was injured. For years his brother had protected him, and if this was what it took to repay that, he had to get past his misgivings. “I could do it. He’s taught me what he knows.”

      “Which is why we should stay in town tonight,” Anna said brightly. Then, as if she was afraid he might get a word in edgewise, she continued rapidly. “Tell him, Sheriff, how dangerous those men are and we should not be out on the road after dark. Why, we’d never see them approaching. And if we stay here, then Mr. Werner can be part of the posse in the morning.”

      No. Daniel tightened all over. “I— We have to get you back to the ranch tonight. Madre—my mother will worry. Rafael will worry. Besides, the thieves are probably already in Mexico.” He tore his gaze away from Anna and cast a quick glance at the sheriff. “I’ll come back at first light.”

      Anna shook her head. “It’s too dangerous, isn’t it?” She looked from the sheriff to him.

      Damn. Her mouth looked adorably kissable, pink lips slightly open as if she was breathless. Daniel’s head spun. He tried to remember the reasons it was so urgent to get home.

      “Danny’s right. They’re probably halfway to Mexico by now.” The sheriff leaned his chair back farther and nodded toward the gun in the corner. “And they lost their rifle.”

      “I have a gun in the wagon,” Daniel said belatedly. Then it seemed like the wrong thing to have said, even if it was the truth.

      “If you were to encounter any thieves, I reckon the two of you could take care of yourselves. The Werner boys are both great shots and you’re not so—”

      “Fine, I’ll go.” Anna popped out of her seat so abruptly, Daniel stepped back.

      The sheriff nearly fell backward off his chair before he managed to stand.

      “But it is the height of absurdity. If I’m killed, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

      She flounced toward the door.

      “Well, here, you might as well take this with you.” The sheriff leaned over and scooped up the rifle. “Don’t expect the owners are going to be back for it.”

      Daniel was almost afraid to reach out and take his gun. A cold sweat broke out all over his skin. It was too easy.

      “Reckon Miss O’Malley has a better right to this than most, seeing as how she managed to shoot one of them robbers and made ’em give up and run off.”

      Her back went rigid, but she continued out the door. What had changed her mind all of a sudden?

      Daniel reached out to take his rifle. All right, the thing belonged to his brother’s bride, and he’d probably be able to use it, even if he couldn’t claim ownership. As he went to pull it back, the sheriff didn’t let go.

      Oh, hell, did he know? Chills snaked through Daniel’s veins. Had the sheriff just been toying with him to trick a confession out of him?

      “You remember, son, that’s your brother’s bride.” The sheriff let go of the rifle.

      Daniel stared at him. His brain was moving awfully slow because he’d expected a warning or an accusation, but not one about Anna. “I know that.”

      The sheriff nodded. “I’ll see you at dawn, Daniel.”

      * * *

      Anna clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She wanted to keep swiveling around, checking for men following them. Except a lady of breeding and refinement would rely on a male escort to protect her.

      Besides, genteel ladies didn’t fidget. The almost preternatural calm that Olivia always managed was not normal. Still, Anna hoped she could salvage her image as a pampered rich girl seeking adventure, not a desperate Irish immigrant who’d spent five years working in a mill, because her only choices were marriage to another poor immigrant or working her fingers to the bone.

      They’d been driving for some time, and Daniel had said little since leaving the sheriff’s office. The bench seat was hard, unlike the padded seats of the stagecoach, and every bump jarred her teeth. If she relaxed, it wouldn’t be so bad, but her thoughts kept scouring the same ground. No man wanted to marry a woman who’d shot a man. No rancher would see her as a fitting bride if she didn’t know her place as a woman. Other women might see her as a heroine, but most men would see her as a freak.

      “So you shot one of the banditos,” said Daniel.

      “I’d rather not talk about it,” she said tightly. “And I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell your brother.”

      Daniel leaned forward and twisted to look at her. “Don’t think it is the kind of thing I could keep from him.”

      “I should hate for his first