for a lady to act?”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “This is hardly the time for concern over proper decorum. Besides, I have brothers.”
“Well, I’m not one of them.” Clay yanked the towel from her hand and mopped the water from his trousers.
Heat flushed Kelsey’s cheeks, and she felt them redden. She took a step back, needing to put some distance between herself and this man, and the feelings his words had evoked.
“I’ve had a hell of a greeting in this part of the state,” Clay grumbled as he wiped his hands on the towel. “This tops off my day just dandy.”
Kelsey’s back stiffened. “You needn’t stand there acting as if this were all my fault”
He looked down at her, his eyes narrow. “You’re the one who threw the water, lady.”
“Well, you’re the one sneaking around the alley.” She planted her fist on her hip.
He waded the towel in his big hand and pointed. “I’m going to the hotel.”
Her nose went up a bit. “I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, guests use the front entrance.”
He lowered his face, leveling his nose with hers. “And I can sure as hell see why.”
They glared at each other for a moment before Kel-sey stepped back and lifted one shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m sorry.”
He grumbled, then flung the towel over his shoulder. “No harm done,” he finally said.
“Good. Now, give me your trousers.”
His chest swelled. “What?”
Kelsey’s cheeks flamed. She twisted her fingers together. “To have them laundered.”
He drew in a long, ragged breath, then handed her the towel. “I need a room for the night Where’s the hotelkeeper?”
“That would be me. Kelsey Rodgers.”
His brows inched upward, and then he touched the brim of his black Stetson. “Clay Chandler.”
Noting that he hadn’t said he was happy to make her acquaintance, Kelsey turned quickly on her toes and led the way into the back entrance of the hotel. She felt him behind her, his height and wide shoulders a force of their own. The man radiated a heat she’d never noticed in any of her brothers. His big, heavy steps sounded on the bare floors, drowning out the light scuff of her slippers.
She tossed the towel on the sideboard as they passed through the kitchen and led the way down the hallway to the small lobby. Modestly furnished, it held the registration desk, a settee and two upholstered chairs. The dining room was located at one end of the room and the staircase to the second floor was situated at the other.
Clay took in the lobby in one sweep, then sauntered up to the desk. He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his black, wavy hair. Kelsey slipped behind the desk and turned up the wick on the wall lantern. Their first meeting notwithstanding, she desperately needed another guest in the hotel, and she would take this stranger’s money gladly.
She put on her best hotelkeeper’s smile and turned to welcome him to the Eidon Hotel. The words suddenly died on her lips. Pinned to his vest, shining in the lanternlight, was the badge of a United States federal marshal.
Raw terror ripped through her. A federal marshal! Right in her own hotel! Had he come for her? Did he suspect her involvement in today’s stagecoach robbery? Would he arrest her on the spot? Kelsey gripped the edge of the desk.
“I’ll be staying a couple of nights.” Clay dropped his Stetson on the desk. “Give me a room facing the street.”
Kelsey swallowed hard and forced her gaze from his badge to his face. Recognition coiled her stomach into a knot. This wasn’t just any federal marshal, but the marshal she’d rescued from a hanging only hours earlier.
Her gaze dipped to his neck, and she saw the rope burns inside his collar. At once she felt overwhelmed by the desire to press her fingers against the marks and soothe them with her touch.
She gave herself a little shake. What was she thinking? The man was a federal marshal. If he knew who she was and what she’d done, he’d slap her into jail without a second thought She had to get rid of him.
Kelsey perused the register and cleared her throat. “Sorry, but we’re full up.”
One thick, dark eyebrow crept upward, and he turned to gaze pointedly at the deserted lobby. Silence hung over the hotel. Clay eyed the cubbyholes on the wall behind the desk, the rows of keys to unrented rooms dangling there.
“You’re full up?”
Kelsey pushed her chin a notch higher. “Yes, we are. I couldn’t squeeze another guest in here with a shoehorn.”
Clay rested his forearm on the desk and leaned closer, his voice low and measured. “Look, lady, I’ve had a hell of a day and I need a place to sleep. If I have to, I’ll go from room to room until I find an empty bed, and when I find one—”
“Let me look again.” Kelsey dipped her gaze to the register once more, her mind whirling. He didn’t recognize her. He didn’t connect her with the hanging incident this afternoon. To protest his stay further would only call attention to herself, make him suspicious. She had no choice.
Kelsey forced a bright smile. “Well, what do you know? It seems we do have a vacancy. And it faces the street How about that! Just sign in, please.”
Clay straightened and scrawled his name in the register she pushed toward him. “The livery was supposed to send over my gear.”
On the floor near her feet, Kelsey found saddlebags and a rifle. She hoisted them onto the desk. “A new Winchester rifle? Nice.”
His hand froze on the saddlebag. He eyed her suspiciously. “You know about guns?”
Kelsey swallowed hard. “I told you I had brothers. Remember?”
Warmth spread through him as he recalled the incident in the alley, when her hands had been all over him. “I remember.”
She passed him the key. “Room four. Turn right at the top of the stairs. Good night.” Kelsey forced a smile.
Clay pulled on his Stetson and flung his saddlebags over his shoulder. “Good night.”
He picked up the rifle and climbed the steps. Half-way up, he turned back. “Don’t forget to lock that back door.”
Stunned, she simply nodded, then watched as he dis-appeared up the stairs. Kelsey sagged against the desk. A feeling of foreboding crept over her.
In her heart, she knew it would be a long time before she saw the last of Marshal Clay Chandler.
The
