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She planted her hands on her hips. “Find it odd that a woman, and one who owns the local parlor house, holds such a position?”
“Yes,” Gray said without hesitation, despite the obvious warning tone in her voice.
Mrs. DuVere burst out laughing in that booming, full-bellied way she had. Then she shrugged. “Well, we are a bit odd in Desolation, I suppose. It’s fairly isolated out here, so we do what suits us best.”
“Ah. Like hirin’ an outlawed gunfighter to be your sheriff.”
She winked at him. “Exactly.”
Gray nodded slowly, then kept nodding. Then he held up a finger, grasped Mercy by the arm, and firmly escorted her outside and back across the street to their wagon. But he didn’t toss her onto the bench and send the horses running like she expected.
Instead, he stared off into the distance.
“What are you thinking?” Mercy asked, every muscle in her body tense.
If he was spooked enough to leave, she’d be left high and dry without the protection she desperately needed. Because despite her blustering, she did need him. He might downplay his role in defeating Josiah’s men earlier, but she’d have been sunk without him, even with Jason there.
Plus, she just really didn’t want him to leave. She’d grown used to his broody presence around her house. He wasn’t nearly as disagreeable as he liked to pretend. Well, he was disagreeable, but there was a humor and…a goodness to him under all that bluster. She’d miss him if he left.
Gray didn’t answer her for a moment, and then finally he took a deep breath. “Are they all really that desperate?”
That startled a chuckle out of her. “Maybe.”
Gray’s lips twitched, and an answering tug echoed in her heart. “Look,” she said. “You’ve been searching for a place to settle. And you did want to stay here, didn’t you?”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, yeah, but dammit, I didn’t want towork.”
She laughed and shook her head. “It’s Desolation. Aside from Josiah, who I’ll admit is a problem, but one you are dealing with anyway, I don’t think you’ll be too busy.”
He let out a grunt but didn’t argue, so she continued.
“You said you wanted to find a town where no one knew who you were. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be in a place where everyone knows you and accepts you anyway, murky past and all. Even if you have towork.”
Gray’s frown deepened. “But why would they do that?”
Mercy’s smile faded, her own unpleasant memories invading her mind. “We all have our own pasts. Everyone comes to Desolation for a reason. Who are we to judge yours?”
He regarded her for a minute, long enough that she wanted to squirm under his gaze. But she held steady, forcing herself to keep her gaze locked with his.
“I suppose it would be nice to have another place to take a nap than just your porch,” he said, maintaining a serious face for a second before a half grin peeped through.
Mercy echoed his smile and nudged his shoulder with hers. “It might not be so bad, you know. Maybe you’ll like being on the right side of the law for a change.”
He snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far.” He yanked his hat off his head and ran a hand through his thick hair before shoving the hat low across his forehead again. “Come on.”
He started back across the street to the jailhouse. Everyone either had their faces pressed to the window or had been watching out the open door. When they saw him coming, they disappeared from sight and were milling around very unconvincingly in the sheriff’s office when Gray and Mercy entered.
Gray stood in silence for a moment, and Mercy wondered if he was trying to force himself to speak. He pinned them all with a gaze that had a few of them shifting uncomfortably. “Ifsomeone were to accept this position, not me necessarily, butsomeone…”
“Yes?” Mrs. DuVere said with a smile.
Mercy bit her lip to keep her own smile from peeking out. He really wasn’t great at being subtle.
“He’d have a few demands.”
“Requests,” Mercy suggested. Gray had the right to ask for a few things, but it never hurt to ask nicely.
He rolled his eyes. “Let’s call them requirements.”
