What was he supposed to make of this bold-spoken girl who, when she should have saved herself, had fought like a wildcat at his side? He was slightly dizzy and more than a little befuddled. Just one thing was for sure—he wanted to know more about her.
“All right, Sarah Foxworth,” he said. “Tell me what happened after I went down. You said something about a guardian angel.”
“Yes. Do you believe in guardian angels?”
Joe shrugged. “My mother does. But if I’ve got one, he pretty much leaves me to fend for myself. What did this angel look like? Did he have wings?”
She laughed, showing small, perfect white teeth. “No, silly. He had a mustache and a badge and a gun. He came out of the station house, and when those cowboys saw him, they took off like they’d just seen the devil. He stayed around long enough to make sure they were gone, and that you were coming around. I had to explain that you’d tried to help me. Otherwise, you could be waking up in jail.”
“You say he had a badge. Did he tell you his name?”
“No. But when the men saw him, one of them yelled, ‘It’s Wyatt Earp!’ Does that mean anything to you?”
Wyatt Earp. Joe nodded, amazed that the girl hadn’t recognized the name or the face of the man who was already a legend. “What did he say to you?”
“Not much. Only that Dodge wasn’t safe for a young woman alone. He offered to walk me to the hotel, but I turned him down. How could I just go off and leave you lying here?” She straightened her bonnet on her head. “Anyway, I won’t be needing a hotel. My train will be leaving again in about an hour. I’d planned to buy some lunch in town, but maybe I should just go inside the station house and wait.”
Joe reached for his hat, which had fallen nearby, and tied on his bandanna, which was still damp. He still felt as if he’d been run over by a freight wagon, but now that he’d met her, he wasn’t ready to let Miss Sarah Foxworth walk out of his life.
“There’s a restaurant in the hotel. If you don’t mind the way I look, I’d be happy to walk there with you.”
“Thank you for your offer.” Her tone was cool as she rose and brushed the dust off her skirt. “But didn’t you have other plans?”
“Other plans?” Joe asked, puzzled.
“As I got off the train, before those hooligans showed up, I saw you and your friend walking up to that house across the street. I know what kind of place that is. If you want to go back there, I certainly won’t stand in your way.”
Joe’s cheeks flamed. He stared down at his boots, unable to face the honesty in those stunning violet eyes.
“You don’t have to explain,” she said. “Just go. I’ll be fine.”
Joe forced himself to meet her gaze as the words came stumbling out. “That’s not how it was. It was my friend who wanted to go there. I was hoping for a reason not to go with him. I swear, I’ve never been inside one of those places in my life, and I don’t want to go now.”
It was a lame explanation, especially since Zeke hadn’t exactly dragged him up to that house. But it was the best Joe could do. He waited in silence, desperate for her to believe him.
Her smile was like the sun coming out. “Well, then, I accept your invitation. I have plenty of time, and I could use some lunch. Let’s go.”
Joe picked up her carpetbag, which was surprisingly heavy, and fell into step beside her. His heart soared, then sank like a stone. What if she was expecting him to buy her lunch? What would she think of him when he told her that he didn’t have any money?
Should he offer her his arm? But no, he decided, that would be too forward. He would just walk beside her, carrying her carpetbag and enjoying the company of a pretty girl who, once she learned that he couldn’t afford to treat her, would probably never speak to him again.
As they walked, he stole glances at her—her profile with its pert nose and stubborn chin, the golden highlights in her sunlit hair, and the way her womanly little breasts shaped the front of her dress. She was beautiful—even more beautiful, in her own way, than Lorna Calder.