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Authors: Joan Johnston

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BOOK: Outlaw’s Bride
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Careless felt like a pony with his bridle off. He didn’t know which way to go, what to do. This had been a good job for a long time. He had done a few favors for Jefferson Trahern over the years, especially when Dorne was alive. Overlooking the boy’s pranks in town that resulted in broken windows
and damaged property. Calming down Horace Felber when Dorne roughed up Chester. Warning off the father of a sodbuster girl Dorne had made advances to.

He had manipulated the law for Trahern, too. Moving off some drifters who had settled on land that didn’t belong to the Tumbling T, but which Trahern used to graze his cattle. Refusing to help Alexander Hawk when masked riders began rustling his cattle. Railroading Ethan Hawk into prison.

He’d had his doubts at the time about whether Ethan was guilty, but he had lacked the guts to face down Jefferson Trahern. Things hadn’t changed much in seventeen years. Careless wasn’t proud of himself, but he had to live somehow. And this was all he knew.

He faced Trahern with his head hanging like a panting tongue. “I’ll take care of it.”

“How long before you think he’ll get here?”

“I ain’t got no control of that,” Careless said. “He’ll be here when he gets here.”

“Just make sure he does the job,” Trahern said. “Or you can say good-bye to yours.”

Trahern whirled on a booted heel and left Careless standing there.

When the door slammed behind the big man, Careless heaved a sigh so big you could feel the draft.

“Hell,” he muttered. “Way things are goin’, looks like I might have to shoot Ethan Hawk myself.”

 

Ethan tied his horse to the back of the wagon Patch had brought to town, helped her up onto the wooden seat, then stepped up and across her and seated himself. He grabbed the reins, gave the team a slap, and headed the wagon out of town.

Patch scooted as close to Ethan as she could and threaded her arm through his. “What did the sheriff say?”

“That I’m wasting my time. There never was any investigation, so he doesn’t have any information to share with me.”

“Did you tell him you plan to do your own investigation?”

Ethan smiled wryly. “He wasn’t impressed.”

Ethan looked at the spot where Patch’s thigh rested against his. The feel of her flesh pressed up close to his was giving him ideas he had no business having. He sidled his leg away, but to his dismay, hers followed.

Ethan glanced at Patch from the corner of his eye. She smiled at him, the soul of innocence. She couldn’t know what she was doing to him, he decided,
and it would only embarrass them both if he said anything. He gritted his back teeth and tried to ignore his body’s response to her nearness.

“I thought surely Trahern was going to catch you in the sheriff’s office,” Patch said.

“I saw him coming and slipped out the back.” Ethan eyed her keenly. “It looked like the two of you were having a discussion. What was that all about?”

“You’ll never guess what happened!”

“Knowing you, probably not,” Ethan said with a wry twist of his mouth.

Patch playfully hugged his arm tight against her. Ethan felt the weight of her left breast against his arm. He glanced sharply at her, but she seemed oblivious to what she had done.

“It’s something wonderful, actually,” Patch said. “I got invited to supper by Merielle Trahern.”

“You what! Are you out of your mind?” Ethan yanked the team to a quick halt. He set the brake and wrapped the reins around it to leave his hands free to shake the daylights out of Patch. Only she had clutched his arm and was holding on for dear life.

“Give me a chance to explain!”

He grabbed her jaw with his free hand, tipped her chin up, and said, “This had better be good.”

“Don’t you see? Merielle is the key to everything. What if she could remember what happened? What if she could name the man who attacked
her? Trahern would have to leave you alone.”

“What does all that have to do with going to dinner at Trahern’s place?”

“Merielle likes me, Ethan. I think she might learn to trust me. Maybe I could get her to talk about the past.”

“I thought Frank was going to do that.”

“Did I happen to mention that I saw Frank with Merielle at the mercantile?

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well, Frank was there. He already tried talking to Merielle, but she didn’t remember anything.”

Patch slipped her free hand up to play with the dark curls at Ethan’s collar. He shuddered as her gloved finger slid across his nape. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her hand down. His eyes narrowed. That sort of behavior was damned provocative. The lady had to know what she was doing to him.

Patch smiled nonchalantly up at him and continued, “So you see, I have to go to Merielle’s house for dinner.”

“No, I don’t see that at all. I’ve told you how Trahern feels about me. I don’t want you getting caught in the middle.”

“Trahern knows I’m staying at the Double Diamond, Ethan. He said if Merielle wants me for a friend, he won’t stand in her way. Actually, once he found out Merielle liked me, he practically ordered me to come.”

Patch traced the corded muscle that stood out on the back of Ethan’s hand. “This is a chance we
can’t afford to pass up. If Merielle ever gets her memory back—”

“You’re shooting at stars, Patch. The chances of Merielle being like she was are slim to none.”

“I’ll take that chance,” Patch retorted.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m going.”

Her chin jutted mulishly, her blue eyes flashed. Her breathing picked up so her breasts rose and fell practically under his nose. Ethan found her absolutely beautiful. Utterly desirable.
Almost
irresistible.

He carefully separated himself from Patch, picked up the reins, and headed the team homeward again. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“We’ll see.”

The team had barely started moving when Patch cried, “Stop the wagon!”

Ethan jerked the team to a halt. The wagon was still rolling when she leapt down from the seat and headed off in the direction of a patch of sagebrush. Ethan wrapped the reins around the brake and raced after her.

“What’s the matter?” he yelled as he ran. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

By the time he caught up to her, Patch had already dropped to the ground in the brush beside a small doe that was trying unsuccessfully to get back on her feet.

“Stay away!” Ethan warned. “Those flailing hooves could slice you to ribbons.”

He noticed that Patch was on her knees in the
dirt—totally unmindful of the costly red velvet dress she was wearing. Here was the reckless hoyden he remembered from the days in Montana. Careless, carefree, with a heart as big as the sky. Only his hoyden had grown into a woman, the sight of whom left his throat dry and his heart pounding.

“Relax, dearie. Everything’s going to be all right,” Patch crooned to the wounded animal.


Dearie?
” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Ethan, you’re scaring her,” Patch said in a cooing voice for the benefit of the anxious deer. “She’s going to need some help. She’s been shot in the leg.”

“By someone who expected to have venison for supper,” Ethan replied. “Let me finish the job, and we’ll be the ones with fresh meat on the dinner table.”

He already had his Colt out when Patch turned on him like an avenging fury. “How could you even
think
of killing this poor, defenseless creature?”

“I like venison steak.”

“Ethan Hawk! Are you going to help me get this deer into the wagon, or not?”

“I will, but only because I figure it’ll die anyway, and I’ll get my steak sooner or later.”

Patch glared at him. “You didn’t used to be so uncaring of a wild animal forced to flee the hunter’s gun.”

His features hardened. “That’s because, once upon a time, I used to be one myself.”

While Patch crooned comfort to the deer, Ethan
took off his shirt and draped it over the deer’s eyes. Then he picked up the animal and put it in the back of the wagon. Instead of returning to her seat beside him. Patch clambered into the wagon bed.

“You’re going to ruin that dress,” Ethan warned.

“Garn!” Patch said, looking down at the dust-covered velvet, which now had a small tear in the hem where it had caught on the wagon when she jumped down. “I forgot all about it!”

Ethan gave her a quick kiss. He couldn’t help it. She was such a delightful mixture of impatient child and caring woman, minx and starched-up lady. He quickly retreated to his seat on the wagon bench before he was tempted to do more.

Leah was standing on the porch with the Winchester in her hand when they arrived back at the ranch. “Where you been all day? Ma’s been askin’ for you.”

It wasn’t clear which of them Leah was speaking to, but both of them reacted to the urgency in Leah’s voice.

Patch scrambled down before Ethan could come around the wagon to help her. “She’s not any worse, is she?” Patch asked.

“I … I don’t know,” Leah answered.

Patch saw the worried look on the girl’s face. She paused to say, “Ethan, put the deer in a stall in the barn, please. I’ll get to it as soon as I can.” Then she hurried inside to Nell.

“Deer?” Leah said, eyes wide.

Ethan pulled Patch’s trunks, bags, and hatboxes
off the wagon onto the porch. He barked orders to Leah about taking care of the team as he picked up the doe and hauled her into the barn. Then he followed Patch into the house.

He found Patch sitting on the side of the bed, brushing the damp hair from his mother’s forehead.

“There, there, now,” Patch was crooning. “You don’t have to think about a thing except getting well.”

He watched Patch massage his mother’s temples.

“Does that feel better?” Patch asked.

Ethan stayed at the foot of the bed, afraid to come any closer. He could see his mother was worse. He couldn’t lose her now. Not after everything she had been through to save the ranch for him. Leah needed her. He needed her.

Ethan wasn’t aware of the sound of protest he made until Patch turned to look at him.

“Your mother’s feeling poorly. She aches all over, and her stomach feels too upset for her to eat what Leah prepared. You sit with her, and I’ll go make her some broth.”

Patch relinquished her spot, but Ethan stood frozen by the foot of the bed.

Nell called to her son. “Ethan?”

Patch could almost see him bracing himself before he took the few steps to his mother. His eyes pleaded with her not to leave him alone. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised him.

His mother’s eyes slid closed, and Ethan took advantage of the opportunity to look closely at
her. He could see her veins through skin that was thin as ice on a Texas pond. Her right hand shook with palsy. Perspiration dotted her forehead and the narrow space beneath her nose. Her lips were dry and cracked. Her breathing was shallow. She was so motionless, he thought she must already have fallen asleep.

Ethan felt suddenly like that boy of fifteen who had been forced to flee his home, confused and alone and frightened of what the future held.

He sat down beside his mother and gently laid his head down on her breast, as though he were a boy again, come to her for solace. The scent of her was familiar, even after all these years. It must be the soap used to wash her nightgown.

He felt his throat squeeze up tight and swallowed over the lump there. When he felt her hand in his hair, he closed his eyes and let her comfort him.

She spoke to him in a voice that was barely a whisper. “During the awful time after Alex died, when you were still in prison, I was tempted to sell this place. Boyd would have given me a fair price. You’ll never know how close I came to accepting his offer. But I thought of how much this ranch had meant to you and your father, and I couldn’t do it. So I hung on. I wanted you to have a home to come to when you were free.”

Nell’s fingers tangled in Ethan’s hair and stilled.

He put his hand atop hers on his head. “This place and you and Pa were all I thought about in prison,” he admitted. “I … I think it would have killed me to come back and find it all gone.”

“I’m dying, Ethan.”

Ethan’s nose burned. He closed his eyes against the sting of tears. “Ma, you … Ma.” He couldn’t speak past the pain in his throat.

“You have to leave this place!” she said in a fierce whisper. “I can’t bear to wake up another morning wondering whether this will be the day Jefferson Trahern kills my son! Take Leah and Patch and go somewhere far away from here and start over. Please, Ethan. Promise me you’ll leave!”

She was clutching at him. Crying. Sobbing.

Ethan sat up and lifted his mother into his arms to comfort her, as though their roles had suddenly changed, and he was now the adult and she the child. He rocked her back and forth, offering the only comfort he could give her.

“Did you know that Patch and I have started to investigate what happened all those years ago? We’re going to find the real culprit, Ma. Then Jefferson Trahern can hound him instead of me. Don’t worry, Ma. Everything will be all right. I can take care of myself. You just concentrate on getting well.”

BOOK: Outlaw’s Bride
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