Lawman Read Online Free Page A

fashion.
    If she waited long enough for Joseph Kearney
to appear and formally sanction her dressmaker's shop purchase,
she'd not only be the spinster she already was—she'd be wrinkled
and gray-haired, to boot. As much as she loved him, her father
never seemed to be around when she needed him. Today was no
exception...and that truly was a shame.
    Pride made her sit straighter. With as much
composure as she could muster, Megan met Mrs. Webster's gaze
head-on. "Not such a shame, madam. I've enjoyed the freedom it's
allowed me."
    Briskly, she plunked the ledgers onto the
desktop and reached into the drawer again, feeling with her
fingertips for the smooth glass canning jar that held her nest egg.
The sooner they finished this, the better.
    Her fingertips met cool glass. Smiling, she
pulled out the jar, keeping it below the desk so she could count
its contents in private. "I'll just be a moment," she told the
Websters.
    "Take your time, Miss Kearney," said
Jedediah.
    "We want to be sure you count all those
precious coppers correctly," added Mrs. Webster with a smug,
haughty expression—the same expression that greeted Megan in town,
whenever she ventured to Tucson for fabric or lace or tinware.
    Now, as always, it hurt. Why could she never
muster enough defenses against those cutting looks? No matter how
hard she tried, they always managed to pierce her defenses
somehow.
    One day those cutting looks wouldn't bother
her, Megan promised herself. One day, she'd rise above them.
    "You might even want to count twice,"
Jedediah added.
    Sudden, unwanted tears of embarrassment and
anger stung her eyes. She wished she'd negotiated even harder on
that purchase agreement, wrangled even more favorable terms than
the excellent ones she already had secured.
    Her hands trembled on the jar lid, sending
it clattering to the floor. Wanting nothing more than to throw her
carefully counted coins and precious rolled bills right at the
Websters, Megan reached inside.
    And came up with nothing. Her nest egg
savings had vanished. Disappeared...just as quickly as the Websters
themselves would, when they learned the truth.
    Oh, papa , Megan thought as she stared
at the empty jar in her hands. Whatever have you done this
time ?
     
     
     

Chapter Two
     
    "Stop, Miss Megan!" Addie said, reaching
over to wrestle a hairbrush and comb from Megan's grasp before she
could pack it. "This is the craziest notion I've heard since old
Charlie took it into his head to rig parasols to the drivers' seats
on all the coaches."
    "It's not crazy, it's necessary." Megan
packed her second-best dress atop the clothes already assembled in
the opened satchel on her bed, then snatched back the hairbrush and
comb, stuffed them inside, and snapped her luggage closed. "Who
knows how much of that nest egg money papa's already lost?"
    "He meant well. He—he—thought he'd double
it. Surprise you for your birthday next month. Afore he left,
Joseph told me he had a sure-fire system this time. One that can't
be beat."
    Addie folded her bony arms over her apron
front and leaned against the doorjamb. Her expression said she
believed everything she'd just said.
    But Megan knew better.
    "He always has some highfalutin', can't-miss
gambling technique up his sleeve," she reminded Addie, hefting her
second satchel onto the bed. "And it always works perfectly—right
up until the moment he loses it all."
    Addie gave her a sorrowful look. "He loves
you, child."
    Megan's hand fisted on the black cotton
stockings she'd been about to stuff into the satchel. An image of
her father's smiling, bewhiskered face rose in her mind's
eye...then dissolved beneath a new vision of a gaming table, a haze
of smoke, and papa crying into his Levin's Park beer because he'd
lost every penny of his daughter's nest egg. It was too real to be
ignored.
    "Awww, Addie. I love him, too."
    She smoothed out the crumpled stockings and
tucked them into the satchel beside her hair ribbons and the
derringer she'd received