Read Tempting the Marshal: (A Western Historical Romance) (Dodge City Brides Series Book 2) for Free Online Page A

Dodge. It’s a pity he was robbed like that.”
    “He’s a good man, for sure.”
    Mrs. Bezel smiled warmly, but Fletcher knew he had some fancy footwork to do if he was ever going to regain confidence in this town. He leaned his cane against the dark wood wainscoting under the window.
    “What can I get for you this morning?” Mrs. Bezel asked.
    He ordered a plate of fried eggs, bacon and cornbread, and when Mrs. Bezel took her leave, he flipped open the newspaper, but the front page headline turned his appetite sour.
    Frontier Fun
    Dodge City’s Newest Marshal
    Swoons at Gunpoint
    Fletcher dropped his forehead into his hand and read on.

    Last evening, Zeb Stone’s Dry Goods Store was held up by the man citizens are now calling “Six-Shooter Hank, Scariest Man Alive.” Marshal Fletcher Collins took one look at Hank and gracefully retired to the floor, not forgetting to introduce his head to the glass cabinet on the way down. For a few confused moments, it seemed as if the coroner and undertaker might have something to do, but a closer examination of the town’s new guardian revealed he was merely resting his eyes. Collins continued his nap while gunshots flew freely in the street, injuring Mrs. Josephine O’Malley, wife of murdered rancher, Edwyn O’Malley. Six-Shooter Hank made off with unknown amounts of cash and a posse on his tail. Marshal Collins has awakened from his nap and sources say he is recovering affably.

    Fletcher leaned back in his chair and gave up trying to control his temper. He clenched his fists and hoped he’d be able to find a lead soon—anything to help him catch that outlaw.
    Just then, four men on horseback rode into town, Deputy Anderson bringing up the rear.
    Hopes rising, Fletcher slid his chair back and took his hat with him to the front door. “Anderson, any luck?”
    The deputy walked his horse to the hitching rail. “Afraid not, Marshal. Didn’t find a trace of anything.”
    “Did you talk to any of the cowboys out on the range?”
    “Sure did. Nobody’s been bragging about a gunfight, but I reckon nobody wants to be a rat, either.”
    Fletcher removed his hat and pulled the bandage off his head. With the posse’s failure, it was up to him now, so he decided right then and there that he would spare nothing to catch Six-Shooter Hank. Fletcher’s tarnished reputation depended on it. And as far as Hank being the scariest man alive? Well, Fletcher would just have to see about that.

Chapter Five

    Growing more irritated by the minute, Jo slapped yesterday’s newspaper down on the bed. Marshal Collins had probably read the front-page headline and spent every waking hour since the alleged robbery trying to capture Six-Shooter Hank.
    Six-Shooter Hank! Didn’t people have anything better to do than invent nicknames for criminals who had no business with fame?
    She tapped her hand repeatedly on her leg. Her criminal disguise had been nestled beneath a public privy floor for two days, just waiting to be discovered by a disgruntled city marshal. She huffed in exasperation. Where was the doctor? He said he’d be in this afternoon to change her dressing and check her wound before releasing her. It must be past three by now, and she had to retrieve her bag and sneak it back home before anyone found it and turned it in.
    Finally she heard footsteps in the hall and the door opened. “Good afternoon,” Mrs. Eisenbein said, walking in with a lunch tray. “How are you feeling?”
    “I’m feeling fine. I’m ready to go home, if the doctor would complete his examination—”
    “Yes, yes, I understand. The doctor will be in after he’s seen his patients.”
    “His patients? Are there many out there?”
    “A few.” She set the tray down on Jo’s lap and began to spoon-feed her the hot broth.
    “How long will it take him? Because I really have to be on my way—”
    “Open up,” Mrs. Eisenbein said, not waiting for Jo to finish. Before she knew it, she was swallowing the hot,