Capturing The Marshal's Heart (Escape From Texas) Read Free

directions.
    “May I join you?” He waited until he saw her blue-eyed gaze connect with his, then angled his head in the direction of the table. “Can’t see why those folks are in a hurry to be sitting?”
    A smile played at the corners of her mouth. “My feelings exactly. I’ll be sitting again soon enough.”
    “Name’s Slade Thomas.” Best to save the title of US Marshal for later.
    She dipped her chin. “I’m sure you’ve learned my name, Mr. Thomas.” A laugh escaped her. With a look of shared confidence, she leaned close. “Mrs. Harrington surely does relish using it with each admonition about my hedonistic behavior.”
    Her easy manner washed over his senses and he soaked her in—her open smile, her friendly nature, her eyes brimming with mirth. His job seldom allowed for casual socializing, but he was strangely drawn to this woman. “Yes, ma’am, I do admit to hearing Miss Morgan more than once.”
    “Oh, Miss Morgan is so stuffy.” Her head shook and she pursed her lips. “Nobody back home calls me that.”
    An avenue of questioning he’d wanted to pursue. “What do they call you back home?”
    “Jaz—um, I mean Jessimay.”
    His interest piqued. Why stumble over your own name? “That’s a pretty name.”
    Her gaze shifted to the window, scanned the landscape, and reconnected with his, a smile crinkling the skin around her eyes. “It was Granny’s name, my granny on my daddy’s side. But she died afore I was born. Some say I favor her looks, but I only know her through family stories.” Eyes wide, she sucked in a breath. “Lordy, bet you didn’t expect my family history.”
    “I’m interested in people. Might say it’s my hobby.” He watched her over the rim of his cup. Every emotion this woman experienced was showcased on her face. Questioning her was almost too easy. “Where’s back home?”
    She glanced at the people chatting quietly around the table. “A little bitty place outside of Boerne.” After a pause, she continued. “Which is a small town outside of San Antonio.”
    A plausible region nearby enough to explain her presence on this particular stage. “Where are you headed?”
    “Mountains.” The single word was spoken on a whoosh of air.
    The sigh pierced him and his chest tightened. “Excuse me? Do you mean Mountain City, Colorado?”
    “No, I’m headed to whatever mountains are the closest. My ticket here gets me as far as Raton, New Mexico.” She moved a step closer, her gaze searching his face. “Have you been there?”
    How her blue eyes sparkle when she asks questions . Her strange words pricked his curiosity. What kind of person considered mountains a destination? A person who wants to hide out . Maybe bury the money from the bank robbery and go back later to recover it . Pushing aside a twinge of disappointment, he nodded. “A time or two.”
    “You have?” She laid a hand on his forearm, her gaze wide and open. “Are the mountains beautiful?”
    The scent of jasmine floated in the air. His body tensed and his nostrils flared, instinct forcing him to breath in more of this fascinating woman. His stomach clenched, followed by his logic reminding him this woman was a suspect in a bank robbery. “I suppose you’ve got someone…a man waiting.”
    For an instant, she stiffened and narrowed her eyes, then leaned a shoulder against the wall, and braced a hand on her left hip. “Nobody’s awaitin’.” Her gaze ran his length from head to toe. “What did you have in mind?” Then, with a jerk, she straightened and turned back toward the window.
    The front door banged open and their driver Pete stepped inside. “Leaving in five minutes, folks.”
    Slade barely heard the driver’s voice. His mind was numb with the echo of Jessimay’s sultry words. His job didn’t allow for much time spent in one place, and he’d always vowed not to bring a woman close. He’d been without a woman so long he must have imagined her proposition. “Excuse me,