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Leonard awoke the next day to the smells of bacon and eggs frying in a pan in the kitchen. He dressed quickly, wishing that Lucille had woken him when she’d gotten up. He’d been hoping he might share a tender moment with her this morning before heading into work. They’d had the sweetest of nights together, and now he would not see her the rest of the day.
He could still not believe that she was really his. All the time he’d known her, thought about her, fantasized about their married life... it was all real now. He kept thinking he might wake from a dream, afraid of what reality had in store for him. But when he walked into the kitchen and she smiled at him from the stove, he knew this was not just a dream. Lucille was his wife. His dream had become his reality.
“Good morning,” he said, kissing her cheek.
“Good morning,” she replied, her green eyes lingering on him. Her dark red hair was in a mess around her shoulders. She was still in her robe, and it looked as though she’d literally rolled out of bed and walked directly into the kitchen. He thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.
Her smile was sweet, and when he went in for a taste of her lips, her cheeks colored a light pink. She did not turn away from him though. Instead, she turned away from the stove, her hands wrapping slowly around his neck as she kissed him back. Their mouths moved together in unison, his body first warming then growing hot the longer they stayed pressed together.
He finally pulled away, certain there was no time for the things he had in mind. Later that evening, when he came home for dinner, he would take her into the bedroom and do all the things he wished he had time for now. When her eyes darkened and her hands only reluctantly let him go, he knew she was thinking the same thing. Perhaps they would not even make it to dinner this evening.
The bacon sizzled and a splatter of oil jumped out of the pan at her. She sidestepped it with graceful speed and it hit the floor instead. She flipped the bacon over.
“Must you really go into work today?” she asked him as he took his seat at the table. She came around and poured him some coffee, and he added cream and sugar to it.
“I’m afraid so,” he said.
“But why? Surely Amos will understand if you take the day off.”
He let out a sigh. “Sure he will, but he’d only be being polite. He needs me there right now.”
“What for? The crime in Elmwood cannot be so great that both sheriff and deputy are required to be at the station day and night. Can’t Curt Gilbert handle things if Amos needs help?”
“Curt’s just a deputy,” Leonard said. “I’m head deputy.”
“Nevertheless,” Lucille said, separating the bacon and eggs onto two plates now and setting them on the table. Her robe slipped open slightly along her collarbone as she set the plates down, revealing a creamy patch of skin. She leaned forward, reaching for the sugar, and it slipped open even further, revealing everything down to her navel. She smiled coyly at him when she caught him looking, and he wondered if she’d let her robe slip open like that on purpose.
Fresh heat stirred in his veins. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Certainly Amos can go a day without me. Just let me go down to the station and tell him I’ll be taking the day off. I’m sure he won’t mind.” He rose from the table, the heat growing almost uncomfortable as it swelled within him.
“Aren’t you going to finish your breakfast first?” Lucille asked. He shook his head. “At least eat your bacon. You might need the strength later.” She gave him that sweet, coy smile again and the blood that had been pumping to his heart quickly rerouted, pumping to other places that were far more sensitive instead.
He grabbed the bacon off his plate and swallowed it in two swift bites, the salty goodness running down his throat and helping his brain to wake back up. “I won’t be long,” he said and started for the door. He paused beside it and turned back to look at her. “Stay in your robe.”
She released a soft laugh and nodded slightly, her hair falling into her eyes. She brushed it away with long, graceful fingers, and he stepped out onto the front porch. The soles of his shoe rubbed against something, and he looked down to see a newspaper lying there. He picked it up and his eyes widened as he looked at the front page.
Leonard wished that he had not looked at the paper at all. Now that he’d seen it, he could not un-see it. The headline was as big as the clouds in the sky overhead. Beauty Bandits Strike Again! Man Dead!
He stood on the porch, quickly scanning the article, wondering if Amos had already seen this. He almost certainly had. Amos seemed to have a sixth sense about these things, sometimes almost seeming able to predict the crime before it even happened. It was part of what made him such a great sheriff.
He opened the door and stepped back into the house. Lucille looked up from the sink, where she was cleaning out the frying pan. “That was fast,” she said with a smile. “Decide to finish your breakfast after all? Well, too late. I ate it for you.” She giggled lightly, and the sound made his heart stutter.
“I won’t be able to spend the day with you after all,” he said.
She stopped scrubbing the pan and looked at him. “Oh?”
He nodded, feeling bad that he’d have to leave her alone the day after their ceremony. At least she had plenty of friends with which to spend time with.
“You couldn’t have spoken with Amos already,” she said.
“I didn’t. But I found this on the front porch.” He held the paper out to her. She wiped her hands on her robe and took it from him. Her eyes bulge slightly from their sockets as she read the headline.
“The Beauty Bandits shot a man?” She screeched the question as if she’d seen a spider.
“That’s what it says. I’m sure Amos will have more information by now. I’ve got to get on the telegraph if he hasn’t already and find out where the Beauty Bandits were last spotted. The train they hit isn’t too far from Elmwood.”
“But,” Lucille said shaking her head, “this doesn’t make any sense. The Beauty Bandits have never killed anyone before. Why start now?” Her cheeks were starting to burn, and Leonard could not help but notice the irritation in her voice. It was almost as though she were taking this personally.
“Don’t worry,” he told her, assuming her shift in mood was to do with the injustice of the slain man. “Marshal Decker is almost certainly on top of this. Now that they’ve shown themselves to be murderers as well as thieves, I imagine he’ll have several other marshals joining up with him in their pursuit, as well as the pledge of every sheriff between here and Kansas to help him bring these women down.”
Instead of soothing the frown which had crossed her face, Leonard’s words only seemed to make it worse. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but you are a fool if you think the Beauty Bandits really killed this man.” She flung the paper down onto the table, a hard smacking sound ringing out as paper and table collided together.
He drew his brows together. “I’m hardly a fool for thinking thieves might easily turn to murder when their plans go wrong.”
“Just because someone is a thief does not mean they’re capable of murder.” Her eyes blazed anger. He could not understand her sudden outburst except to think that she was upset because this latest news would prevent their spending the day together.
“I’m sorry,” he said using soothing tones. “Had the crime occurred farther from here it would not be such a concern, but being so close to Elmwood as it was, I’m certain that Amos will require from my presence at the station. I’m much better with the telegraph machine than either him or Curt, and it may be he wants to send one of us to Thunderbend, where the crime occurred, in order to help track the bandits’ trail.”
“This article is nothing but lies,” Lucille said. “It claims the bandits shot a farmer. They would not even rob a farmer let alone shoot one. It is only the rich they take from. Corrupt bankers or politicians, other criminals who have made their fortunes standing on the backs of others. They would never steal from a man of God or a farmer or a child or anyone else who does not deserve it.”
“So you would have different laws for the rich and poor?” Leonard asked, unable to believe what she was saying. “If it had been a banker who was shot and killed rather than a farmer would you let the outlaws go? Would you applaud their behavior?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I could never approve of shooting a man except in the defense of one’s family or self.”
He relaxed slightly. “I’m glad to hear it. For a moment, I thought you’d lost your mind.”
She scowled at him. “I’ve lost nothing. In fact, I’ve gained something invaluable. A greater understanding of you. You automatically assume all criminals are the same, and it is an assumption which I find appalling. Under your thoughts, a child who feeds his starving family by stealing a loaf of bread is no better than a madman who runs around slaying people for monetary gain.”
Leonard let out a sigh. “Of course there’s a difference,” he said. “I would not shoot a child who ran from me for stealing a loaf of bread, but I might shoot a murderer who tried to run.”
“Even a woman?” she gasped.
“If that woman were a murderer,” he said.
“I’m telling you this latest crime is not of their doing. The Beauty Bandits would not kill a man. The reporters have merely made up such a story to sell more newspapers. Or perhaps the story is true, but a false gang is responsible for the crime, not the Beauty Bandits.”
“How can you know such a thing?” he asked her.
She looked at him, her arms folded across her chest. “Because I know people,” she said.
A fresh reply rose on his tongue, but he bit it back. It would do no good to either of them to continue this argument. “Either way, I must go into the station,” he said. “I’ll see you for dinner.”
He walked back out the door, confused and irritated by the argument they’d just had. He couldn’t understand it. The only possible explanation which his mind allowed was that his bride was upset because he leaving her alone on what should have been their honeymoon. If possible, he would get home early. If not, then she would have to grow used to it. She was married to a sheriff’s deputy now, and he could not always be there when she wanted him to.
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