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She slapped the fabric in her hand against the washboard. “You are supposed to be my fiancé. This whole engagement farce does me no good if no one is aware you exist. Besides, with Josiah and the sheriff being curiously quiet the last couple of days, it would be a good idea to see what they’re up to.”
“The whole reason I came here was to be in a place where no one knew me. And now you want to go introduce me to the whole town? Sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”
Mercy stopped her furious scrubbing. “I know that was your original plan. But with the sheriff and Josiah and his men already knowing you are here, it’s a bit of a moot point. If they’ve spread the word that you’re here, then everyone already knows. And if they haven’t…well, then they are probably up to no good. Maybe devising a way to remove you from the situation. If that’s the case, then the more people who know you’re around the better. Makes it more difficult to make someone disappear if there are people who will miss him.”
Gray raised an eyebrow. “I’m touched that you’d miss me—”
Her mouth dropped open. “That’s not what I sa—”
“However, I’m more than capable of dealing with anyone Josiah or that weaselly sheriff might send after me.”
She resumed her attack on his clothing. “Be that as it may, I think we’d both be a lot safer if I wasn’t the only person who knew you were here.”
Gray sighed. She had a point. He didn’t like it. But he also couldn’t argue against it.
“Fine,” he ground out. “But don’t expect me to act happy to be meetin’ everyone.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “The thought never occurred to me. Now…” Her gazed roved over him until he had the inexplicable urge to blush. “Unless you want to be the talk of the county—and I’m assuming you don’t, since you don’t even want to be the talk of the town—I suggest you go put on those clothes I laid out for you. They should fit you well enough until these are dry.”
He raised a brow. “And what unfortunate man did they belong to?”
Her jaw tightened. “My father.”
His gaze flicked toward the orchard where the grave stood out like a fresh wound. He swallowed hard. He’d known loss himself. Giving him the clothes had probably been a difficult thing for her to do. An act worthy of his respect. “I thank you for the use of them, then.”
Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise. Yeah, his response had surprised him as well. Maybe he wasn’t a complete ass after all. Who knew?
He didn’t dally but quickly put on the clothes she’d left him—and she was right, they did fit surprisingly well, though maybe a bit tight about the middle—and went to find Mercy again. If he had to go parade around town, he’d like to get it over with. He made it out to the yard where she was hitching her horse to a small wagon before he realized he wasn’t wearing his guns. If there was a possibility of running into anyone who might have an issue with his company, he’d want those on his hips. Even if he was loath to use them.
He frowned, his hands absently slapping at his thighs. Where had he left the damn things?
“They’re in the woodpile,” Mercy said, not even turning to look at him as she went about her task.
His frown deepened, and he marched over to the woodpile by the door to extract his guns. Hiding them from her wouldn’t do much good if she always knew where they were. He’d have to find a better spot next time.
That is, if he survived the meet and greet in town. It’d been his experience these things rarely went well when he was around.
Chapter Six
Gray hopped into the wagon and glared at the horse’s rump. “Let’s get this over with.”
Mercy followed him, plopping down so close to him she was almost in his lap. Not that it was by choice. Small bench. Still, she turned to him with a mischievous grin he was hard-pressed not to return. She was sorely testing his resolve to die a surly ol’ bastard.
“Ready to set some tongues wagging?” she asked.
He shook his head. The woman was relentless.
The trip to town was much quicker than Gray hoped. Mercy pulled the small wagon to a stop near the front of the general store, and Gray took a moment to glance around the town. Despite having been there for three days it was the first glimpse he was getting of the town proper. The closer view didn’t make much improvement on what he’d seen from afar. Still, he had definitely seen worse.
The town sported the usual businesses one might expect. A barbershop stood on one side of the general store and across the street stood the sheriff’s office and, presumably, a jail cell or two. Though it was noticeably silent and empty-looking. Interesting. A small building next to the sheriff’s seemed to be the local doctor’s office, and a short way farther down stood a blacksmith’s shop.
A tavern sat beside the barbershop, a surprisingly grand establishment for such a small town. If he wasn’t mistaken, the local parlor house most likely took up the second floor of the tavern. At least judging by the several pairs of eyes that peeped at him from behind the lace curtains adorning the windows.
Gray tipped his hat to his invisible watchers. The madams were often the real power in the towns he frequented, so he always made it a point to stay on their good side. Never knew when he’d need to negotiate for some private lodgings or a temporary hideout. For the right amount of coin, he could usually talk himself into a quiet room where he’d be left alone. Options and backup plans were always good. Not that he had much coin, but if—or when, more like—Mercy kicked his sorry backside out her door, he didn’t want to burn any bridges he might need.
He jumped down from the carriage and stood on the clapboard sidewalk, looking back over his shoulder at Mercy, who still sat in the wagon, watching him as though she were waiting for something.
“You comin’?” he asked.
