"Too bad, Millie." He holstered his weapon. "Is the coast clear, or is that poor sap Homer gonna be coming up here to woo and court you?"

"What do you mean? He nicely offered to unload my wagon for me. Which you clearly did not do. Not that I expected it at all."

She eyed him up and down, clearly amused. "I can see now why you were using that rundown hut as a hideout. You're an outlaw, aren't you? Don't lie to me, buster. I'm turning you into the local law enforcement, whoever and wherever they happen to be."

"I don't pay much attention to a pretty female who seems to want to work her way honestly through this life. So why don't you get out of my apartment and go find a fancy hotel room."

He reached into his back pocket instead and hauled out his wallet. "Will five hundred bucks be enough? It's all I've got on me."

"You've got five hundred dollars? Just carrying it around like that? It's a fortune."

"I got lucky at cards. What can I say? It was a winning streak, which is even luckier now that I can use it to buy you out of your uncle's share of the store."

"What? Buy me out? I ain't goin' nowhere, mister. Don't you get this by now? I'm no woman who could ever be for sale. I don't accept money from no one or for nothing unless I earned it."

"What about this storefront, huh? What about this apartment?"

"That's different. I inherited it. Uncle Fitzhugh had a will and everything, but I guess the territorial government decided to give it to me. I intend to earn a living by using it."

"A living?"

"I've made hats for other employers since my first job at eighteen."

"You make hats? Lady, that's a liquor store downstairs."

"A liquor store?" Millie's step faltered.

"And quite profitable too."

"What one minute. What did you just say? Let's go back. I'm confused. Did you just offer to buy me out?"

"Hell, yes, I did. I own a stake in this business."

"The property too?"

"I'm the lienholder, baby. And I ain't none too happy about it. Here comes Homer Minks lugging your trunk up the stairs by the sound of it."

Leo watched the bright gleam in her eyes dim and the smile fade from her soft mouth.

For a brief moment she had looked so beautiful and full of spunk and gumption, that his heart simply forgot to keep beating.

When it started up again, it drove a certain kind of heat through his blood.

A sexual one. Like a thirst, it needed quenching.

He cleared his throat to say something to her, anything to her. He could not explain the need he felt to simply step forward and brush back the blond tendrils away from her face.

To look into her eyes and see more of her. To see past the independent manner, she tried so hard to show, and to see beneath it to the more tender part of her she did her best to keep hidden.

He was not deceived. He saw more of the true Millie than he was comfortable showing.

"Why, Homer!" Millie greeted just as the door swung open.

Leo blinked. Damn, he'd been so busy thinking about Millie he'd forgotten his entire mission.

The whole god damned thing.

Too late too hide now. Homer set down the trunk against the wall.

"I see you're not alone, Millie." He squinted, looking a bit pissed off about having another man in the room.

Competition for Millie's hand.

Leo resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. Hot damn, he had the best idea of all.

There was only one way to save this situation. Yep, there was just no other way to do it.

"Who are you?" Homer asked pointedly, proof he'd already made up his mind to get himself all hooked up and married.

The man looked so serious, there was no backing down.

Leo opened his mouth and said the biggest lie he'd ever told anyone uncover. "I'm Millie's husband."

"Are you kidding me?" Millie's eyes went saucer wide. "I don't see a wedding ring on this finger. What is wrong with you that you would be so obnoxious and just assume that I would want anything to do with you."

"Aw, baby. I know you're mad at me. Why don't you just calm down and forgive me."

"I'll give you something to calm me down with. A big stick. That's what. Or a broom ought to do. Let me look around this place, which is a mess by the way. Let me see if I can find anything big and hard to beat some common sense into you with."

"She's violent. Often. Don't mind my poor sweet, stunning wife. She can be awfully forthright but she's rarely ever dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Only once she tried to beat my father's friend with the bad end of a rifle. He lived to tell the tale, but he fully recovered from being bested by a woman not even half his size."

"Oh, my. I had no idea." Homer took a step back, shocked.

He was shocked, I tell you, and Leo strode to the door and opened it wider. The look he gave the man was scathing.

"Guess I'd best be gettin' on my way. Forget the credit. I won't be stopping by, so I don't need that store credit."

Homer rushed down the stairs, very eager to escape.

"Seriously, where's a broom? Although I'm gonna need something better to make you pay for saying that about me."

The better part of valor when dealing with a woman was to absently nod and not pay attention.

He had a killer to find.

At least he didn't see any trouble out there. Just Millie's horse standing lonely and forgotten in the alley.

Well, he'd have to find some clothes of Fitzhugh's because now he could see the wisdom in coming here. Pretending to be a married man inheriting it all was the best disguise of all.

Too bad it meant keeping Millie around.

And cooperative.

"Say, how would you like to earn five hundred dollars?" He shut the door with his boot and turned around.

She stopped from hunting through a nearby closet and pulled out an old wooden mop. The handle was worn and cracking, but it looked sturdy enough to make a good weapon.

A man could get awful bruised from that thing.

"Keep your weapon holstered. Or in the closet." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you really beat me with a mop?"

"I'm gonna run you out of this apartment, that's what I'm going to do. My apartment. My store. I don't want your money. I want you to pay for running off a perfectly good customer."

"Lady, let's get one thing straight. That's a liquor store down there."

"So?"

"In a lawless town like this, where every deputy and sheriff has been run out of town by the robber gang living in the hills on the way into Willow Glen, you'll do a fine business anyway you look at it."

"Not for long it's not. I'm a hat maker, not a liquor seller. And I'm not your make-believe wife—"

He cut her off. "You will be if we can make a deal. Five hundred."

A knock pounded on the door.

"Who's there?" Leo's hand flew to his holstered gun.

"It's Stan, from over at the livery. The town attorney asked me to come unpack your wagon, but I see it's already been done and take your gelding and vehicle over to my barn."

Leo stepped back and gestured to Millie. "Open it, but don't say one thing about me being here."

She gripped the mop handle tighter, gave him a scathing grimace and cracked open the door.

"Good day, ma'am." Stan politely tipped his hat. "I must say, the word on the street is correct. Right on the money. You are awfully beautiful."

"Oh, that's very kind of you to say."

"The word in town is that you are going to open the store."

"Yes, sir. I'm very glad you've come for Beauregard. The attorney recommended you so highly."

"He's a good man, no doubt. And no fear, I'll take real good care of your Arabian. He's purebred, ain't he? It sure would be an honor to take care of him."

"Why thank you. I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to worry about any horse thieving in my livery barn. I sleep right on the premises. I keep all the horses in my care safe."

"H-horse thieves?" Millie wobbled, stumbling back a step.

Looked like it had been an awful tough day for her. And it wasn't even half over yet.

"I look forward to talking to you again sometime soon. Maybe about more than just your horse." The man blushed, took a step back and took off down the staircase.

Millie closed the door, looking shell-shocked. "Lawlessness. Horse thieves. No lawmen. And now you. What did I get myself into?"

"A pretend marriage." He grabbed her by the hand and slapped the thick fold of twenties, fifties and a hundred dollar bill or two into her palm. "Or I toss you out. I own the majority of this business. And these living quarters."

"You would throw me out? I mean, this place is all I have. It's my chance to do what I've always wanted to do." She stared down at the money in her hand. "Let me get this straight. You need a place to hide out, don't you? If I let you pretend to be my husband, you will pay me five hundred dollars and that's it?"

"I'll even toss this in to sweeten the deal. I'll cancel out my share of this place. Deed you my share of the property. And the business."

"I'm fairly sure that is not a good deal. Do you know how I know?"

"Trust me, I'm afraid to ask."

"Because you're an outlaw and a thief, aren't you?"

"Lady, I need a place to stay. That's it, that’s all. No questions asked. Not one, got that?"

"No, I won't do it. You can take your money and shove it where the sun don't shine. I make no deals with renegades like you."

"Renegade, huh? That's a step up from being considered an outlaw or a thief. I guess I'm coming up in the world. Or at least in your opinion."

"That's not true at all." Millie leaned the mop against the wall. "Although I have lost my urge to beat you with it."

"You're starting to get the picture now, aren't you?"

"I'm stuck with you anyway. You're my partner in this business. In this property."

"I ain't interested in running no liquor store."

"At least we can agree there." Millie smiled with a great amount of trepidation in her heart. "You are not an outlaw, are you?"

"Once again you're wrong. I'll defy any claim that I'm anything but the biggest, baddest wanted man in three territories."

"This is a good deal you're offering me. It doesn't make any sense, because I should be paying you."

"Maybe because I like you, Millie. Do we have a deal? I stay here. I stay out of your way. You say I'm your husband, no questions asked. The money and the property, all of it, it's all yours."

"It would take me years to pay off the lien on the property. And then there's the matter of the property taxes. The attorney said they are a bit behind."

"I wouldn't know about that. That was Fitzhugh's responsibility. I was just helping him out."

"If you knew my uncle and lent him money, then you can't be all that bad."

"Do not let that get around. With the way rumors travel, especially in a place like this, my image will be ruined. Next thing you know I'll have this squeaky clean, neat and polished up look and reputation. I might even have to start paying taxes."

He winked, looking happy to play the part of a man living on the edge of the civilization. This was the Wild West, after all.

She did not know what to think of that. "Well, you did help save Beauregard. That man who shot me was going to steal him."

"I know. Why don't you sit down and get your weight off that leg? It's got to be hurting you."

"I suppose it is. Quite much, actually."

He hauled out a wooden chair and sat her down in it. "There, now you're finally showing some good judgment. Just say yes to my offer. You won't be sorry. Not for a minute. Do we have a deal?"