So if power was what Jared Mason understood, then power was what she’d show him.

Sheriff Isaac Vaughn stood on the little porch in front of the jailhouse staring down Main Street toward the Wild Cat Saloon. It was dark now and the streets were nearly deserted.

Isaac turned to her as she approached. In the dim light she saw the gentle shift in his expression, concern, worry that she was on the streets alone.

Isaac was a big man. Tall, solid. Tough, too. He had to be, given his job as sheriff. Yet Kinsey had never experienced that side of him. To her, Isaac was more an older brother. She’d gotten to know him better since Lily had come to work at the boardinghouse.

“Evening, Mrs. Templeton,” Isaac said, tipping his hat respectfully.

“Good evening, Sheriff,” she answered, standing next to him. “I know it’s late for me to be out alone, but something’s bothering me that I want to discuss with you.”

Isaac shifted. His expression hardened, as if preparing himself for bad news which, as sheriff, he often heard.

“It’s about you and Lily,” Kinsey said.

He seemed to wither slightly, the weight of the troubles with his wife bearing down on him for so long now it seemed difficult for him to stand up under the burden any longer.

Exactly what had driven Lily from the home she shared with Isaac during their three-year marriage had been speculated about by most everyone in Crystal Springs. Everyone had an opinion—it had been the most talked-about incident in town, until the church burned down. It was common knowledge what the two of them had been through, of course, and, collectively, the town’s heart had gone out to them.

Kinsey knew the whole truth, of course. She and Lily had grown close from all the hours they’d spent cooking and cleaning at the boardinghouse, and Lily had confided in her. Kinsey certainly wouldn’t betray Lily’s confidence by tattling to anyone and adding to the gossip that circulated through town about the couple.

“I told Lily when she came to the boardinghouse that I wouldn’t take sides between the two of you,” Kinsey said. “You’ll recall I told you the same.”

Cautiously, Isaac nodded.

“I haven’t said much, one way or the other, to either of you,” Kinsey pointed out. “I’ve listened to Lily’s side of things. Heard her out. Tried to comfort her, tried to be a friend.”

“You’ve been a good friend,” he said, “to both of us.”

Kinsey drewa breath and straightened her shoulders.

“I think that was a mistake on my part,” she told him.

“You do?”

“Yes. The truth is, I never agreed with Lily’s leaving you, moving out of your home, taking a job and living in Nell’s boardinghouse,” Kinsey said, then added softly, “Regardless of the circumstances.”

Isaac winced and glanced away.

“I intend to talk to her, try and convince her to meet with you, find a way for you two to put your lives back together and get over…what happened,” Kinsey said. “I wanted you to know that, Isaac.”

He nodded. “I appreciate that.”

“I should have done it sooner,” Kinsey admitted.

It was true. She’d never agreed with Lily’s decision but had held her tongue, thinking it was better to support her friend. She’d always intended to talk to Lily, make her feelings known.

Only now she had a compelling—no, selfish, she silently admitted—reason to do so.

A long silence stretched between them as Kinsey and the sheriff stood outside the jailhouse. Somewhere a dog barked. A pair of horses plodded down the street and their riders disappeared inside the Wild Cat. Lights burned in the hotel windows down the block and above the stores on Main Street.

Kinsey drew in another breath, summoning her courage.

“That new man in town,” she said, trying to sound casual. “That Mr. Mason staying at the hotel?”

Isaac’s shoulders straightened and his chest expanded. “Did he do something, Kinsey?”

The sheriff’s tone suggested he almost wished Jared had done something. As if Isaac would enjoy nothing more than taking out his pent-up hostility over his wife’s desertion on someone—anyone.

“I was just thinking,” Kinsey said, fighting the urge to twist her fingers together from the outrageous lie she was about to tell, “that Mr. Mason reminded me of that bank robber from Cold Creek whose picture was on the Wanted poster outside your office about a month ago. Did…did you happen to notice a resemblance?”

Isaac eyed her sharply and one eyebrow went up. “I might have.”

“I noticed the poster is gone now,” Kinsey said, waving to the spot behind her where the Wanted posters always hung. “I suppose that means the robber was caught. But, well, I was wondering if the sheriff in Cold Creek is certain he got the right man?”

Isaac stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I could send a telegram, find out for sure.”

“That would be prudent,” Kinsey agreed. “And, I suppose, you might be concerned that, if the robber really is Mr. Mason, that he might…commit another crime.”

Isaac nodded again. “Might be better if I got Mason off the streets.”

“The townsfolk would surely feel safer that way,” Kinsey said. “I know I’d feel safer.”

“I could lock him up.”

“Just until you found out for sure if he’s the robber,” Kinsey said. “Say, until Friday? That’s the day the train comes through. You could take him to the depot, make sure he leaves town—for the safety of the citizens, of course.”

“I could do that,” Isaac declared, his tone indicating that he would enjoy it, too.

“But I wouldn’t want him to get hurt,” Kinsey said quickly. “I know that accidents can happen—anywhere.”

“I’ll make sure Mason doesn’t have any accidents,” Isaac promised.

“Good.” Kinsey paused.

“And he’ll be comfortable.”

“Well, not too comfortable.”

“I’ll take care of the prisoner, don’t you worry.”

“And I’m going to talk to Lily tonight,” Kinsey promised.

They exchanged a look, sealing their unholy bargain. Both of them were desperate. Isaac, to get his wife back, and Kinsey to get Jared Mason out of her life. People pushed into a corner would do anything, and Kinsey and Isaac were no exception, given the high stakes.

Kinsey hurried toward the boardinghouse. She glanced back to see Sheriff Vaughn heading toward the hotel.

For an instant, she almost called him back. What had her life become? What sort of person had she turned into? Arranging to have a man—even Jared Mason—locked up in jail to suit her own needs?

Kinsey’s stomach ached with guilt. She didn’t regret promising to intervene with Lily on the sheriff’s behalf. She truly felt itwas the right thing to do. But as for Jared…

The ache in Kinsey’s stomach rose to grip her heart. Sam. A helpless little boy who’d already lost both of his parents. The tearful vow she’d made to her stepsister as she lay dying.

The ugly truth about the Mason family.

Kinsey drew in a fresh breath. Four days in jail wouldn’t do Jared Mason any real harm. He’d have a roof over his head, three meals a day. He wouldn’t be mistreated. He’d be loaded onto the train and sent packing.

And it would get him out of Kinsey’s life. For a while. Perhaps forever.

Sam would be safe. Beth’s dying wish would be respected. Kinsey would have the kind of life she’d wanted since she was a child.

Her heart ached again, this time in an old, familiar way. Oh, to think that her dearest dream might one day come true…

Kinsey pushed away the thought. She headed back to the boardinghouse.

A night for celebration. No doubt about it.

Jared reared back in his chair and picked up his beer—his third, so far—from the table in front of him. Around him, the dozen or so other patrons of the Wild Cat Saloon drank at the bar, told stories, or played cards. Everyone in a jovial mood.

And none more so than Jared. He tipped up his beer, thoroughly pleased with himself. His gut glowed with the success he’d pulled off today.