Longarm and the Sins of Laughing Lyle (9781101612101) by Tabor Evans Page A

tall!”
    â€œThe farm talk again.”
    She feigned a gasp and closed her hand over her mouth. “Oh, what the hell—you already heard me curse. Would you like a drink? Don’t tell anyone, but I tend to tipple when Daddy’s away, and he’s away tonight. All night. Edna Thomas’s funeral is tomorrow out at the Triple 8 Ranch, and he decided to travel as far as the Spring Creek Ranch to cut his travel tomorrow in half. I’m not allowed to have boys over—as if there were any boys around Nowhere I’d
deign
to have over—so you’re technically not allowed to be here. But since you’re a lawman and all, I’m probably safe. You reckon?”
    Longarm let his gaze drift up from her bare feet to her knees. Then it scuttled up the robe to where it was open just enough across her chest to reveal the inside curves of her creamy breasts. He looked at her face. She blinked slowly, obviously knowing exactly what she was doing to him.
    â€œYou bet,” he said, easing down into the leather-padded rocking chair. “But I’ll forgo the drink. I’m here about the saddlebags that Laughing Lyle May was toting when you and your father picked him up on the trail out yonder.”
    She arched a brow and stuck the tip of her tongue between her pouting lips. “Would you like to search me?” She smiled and wagged a knee.
    Longarm bit back a hunger pang. It wasn’t a hunger for food, however. His throat was a little dry. He cleared it, and put some steel in his voice as he said, “Miss Todd, the money is nothing to fool about. It was stolen from a bank in Stoneville, Kansas. After Laughing Lyle’s bunch stole it, they locked up the employees and patrons in the bank and burned it down. That money belongs to their families and to the town of Stoneville, and I aim to get it back to them.”
    She sat up and dropped her feet to the floor. Her expression was suddenly serious, sad, and she didn’t say anything for nearly half a minute before: “That’s just awful.”
    Her sudden change of demeanor caught Longarm off-guard. It seemed genuine. He said, “Yes, it is.”
    â€œWell, I don’t know anything about any saddlebags. Father and I only saw Laughing Lyle himself layin’ there in the trail. His horse was nearby, grazing, but it was only wearing a bridle, saddle, and blanket. Lyle must have hid the bank money somewhere before he passed out.”
    Longarm stared at her—just her eyes this time, though the robe was still partly open and her legs were still nearly bare, of course. Only a hardened outlaw could manufacture an expression as genuine and honest-looking as the one Miss Bethany Todd was wearing right now.
    Longarm sighed.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said. “I do hope you find the money, Marshal Long.”
    She rolled her eyes toward the neatly but sparsely outfitted kitchen, dominated by a black range and a square table covered with a green gingham oilcloth. There weren’t many dishes on the shelves. The only wall hanging was an oil painting of Christ praying at a small, rough-hewn table. “Before my intruder disturbed me, I was enjoying a bottle of brandy. If you promise not tell anyone of my vices”—she mashed one of her sexy little feet down atop the other and let the robe fall open a little farther—“I’ll share some with you.”
    Longarm felt his throat swell. The lamplight shone on her beautifully, highlighting every other strand in her blond hair, flashing in her green eyes that appeared speckled with copper. Her face was heart-shaped, with a slender nose and rich, red lips. Her chin jutted just far enough, and there was a dimple in it, with a very small mole beside it and a quarter inch below.
    Longarm let his eyes travel down the robe once more, and swallowed. It was an almost painful maneuver because of that hard cork in his throat. “Miss Todd, I believe I’d