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He was right. The muscles in Maddie's arms were aching from the weight of the rifle, but did she dare let down her guard?
For several long moments, she considered his request. Could she trust him? His steady gaze made the decision for her. He didn't seem the least bit jumpy, she reasoned, and that was usually a good sign.
Finally, she lowered the rifle and leaned it against the side railing of the porch. She stood aside to allow him to step onto the porch and sit down in a rocker near the rose bush she'd planted when Caleb had first brought her to Wyoming. The fragrance rose to meet her nose, and she breathed deeply, wishing she had more time to sit on the porch and enjoy the scenery. But she didn't, so there was no use pining for something
she couldn't have.
She turned her attention back to the marshal. His presence seemed to fill the small porch, and as he settled in the rocking chair, Maddie couldn't help but notice his long legs stretched out in front of him. Long legs with strong, muscular thighs. She felt her face flame with embarrassment. Heavens, what kind of lady noticed things like that?
Maddie lowered herself into the other rocker and perched her bottom on the edge, ready to run. "Since Caleb's already dead, Tyler's wasting a trip then, isn't he?"
Perhaps Tyler had heard of Caleb's death, and would keep on moving. Once she'd realized the type of man Tyler was, she'd always felt a little uncomfortable around him, and she'd be quite happy if she never saw him again.
"It's unlikely he'll know Caleb's dead, since he'll be staying away from towns or people. He wants revenge, and he wants the money Caleb hid. When the jury found Tyler guilty, he swore he'd come back here and kill Caleb. I intend to be here when he arrives."
What? She couldn't have heard right? "You can't stay here," she said, her voice rising a notch.
"Why not?"
"It's ... it's impossible. This is my home. I won't allow it! You have no right to come here and take over--"
His voice softened, but still she recognized the determination and confidence in the tone. "That's where you're wrong, ma'am. I'm a federal marshal. Boone's a fugitive from a federal prison. I have jurisdiction to track him down wherever I see fit. Right now, this homestead is where I stand the best chance of nabbing him."
"You assume he's headed back here, but you have no proof," Maddie insisted.
"I've been tracking men like him for years, ma'am. I know how their minds work. He'll show up here. I'd bet a month's pay on it."
Maddie's stomach knotted as she bounded out of the chair. "But I can't have a man staying here. What will people think?"
"Folks won't think anything. It's too dangerous for you to stay here, so you should pack up a few things and head into town until this blows over."
"What? That's ridiculous," Maddie gushed. "Caleb is dead, and he never mentioned money to me, so what danger could I possibly be in?" she asked, faking a bravado she didn't feel.
"Tyler Boone is a wanted man, a killer."
Maddie shrugged. "I have a gun I'm prepared to use. Besides, I have too much to do. This homestead is all I have, and I have to earn a living or I'll lose that, too. If I don't stick to my routine, I'll never get all the chores done."
The marshal's glance swept around the yard. "How exactly do you make a living out here?"
Maddie pulled herself up to her full height, the pride she felt evident in her voice when she spoke. It would take months, perhaps even years, to feel completely self-sufficient, but she was proud of the steps she'd taken towards independence since Caleb died. For the first time since the marshal showed up, she felt a smile creep onto her face. "I've just made arrangements with the general store in Willow Creek to provide them with butter and cheese, as well as soap and candles. I'm just starting out, you understand, so if I don't fulfill my committments, it'll destroy my business even before it gets established, not to mention what a man's presence here would do to my reputation."
"I see," he said thoughtfully.
"Besides, you still haven't given me any reason to suspect he'll come back here."
"I'm as sure of it as I am that the sun will come up in the morning. He'll be back, first to take care of Caleb and second to collect the money. And since Caleb's already dead, he'll figure you know where the money is."
"But I don't know--"
The marshal raised his hand. "Tyler Boone doesn't know that. He won't believe you. If you don't give it to him, he'll probably decide to kill you instead. And since he hasn't had a woman in the last two years ..." His voice trailed off. It wasn't necessary to finish the thought.
His gaze swept over her much the way Caleb's had done when he'd first courted her. "That'd be a real waste." Again, her heart did its little dance, and suddenly, it seemed as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Heavens, what was wrong with her?
Taking a deep breath, she looked away until the sensation left. "How do you know Caleb even hid the money around here?"
"I don't. But it's safe to assume he'd hide it somewhere he could get to it quickly. They both grew up here. They'd know every tree, every creek for miles. They'd know where to stash the money so nobody'd find it."
Maddie supposed his reasoning was sound, although she hated to admit it.
