Wed to the Texas Outlaw (17 page)

Or not. There was something delicious about the secret—about sitting beside Boone with only a layer of loose cloth between his hands and her imagination.

“Now you may kiss me,” she said, settling close to him on the rail.

He handed her mug back to her. While he did not kiss her, he did put his arm around her shoulder to pull her tighter to him.

“You don't want to kiss me, after I braved the cold to be with you? To think I could be warm and toasty in—”

“I want to.”

“Well, then, please help yourself to my lips.” A husband who declared his love had every right to a kiss and more.

“What's my bounty?”

“I told you when you would find that out.”

He peered at her from under lowered lids. “I reckon an innocent kiss wouldn't hurt anything.”

“It could only help warm us up.”

Her husband kissed her forehead, chaste and sweet. Truly, it was the same way he kissed Diana.

Two shots shattered the night at the same time.

“Are they coming any closer?” she asked, deciding to forget the offense of the kissed forehead for the moment.

“I don't think so.” Boone took a long swallow of coffee. “Those fools are wearing themselves out.”

“They still have the food.”

“How's ours holding out? We've got to be running low.”

“There's enough for two days, three, if everyone but Giselle rations it.”

They sat in silence, she gazing up at the stars and he staring at the darkness beyond the corral. She assumed he was gnawing at worry the same as she was.

“I could have freed up the food.” Boone's voice sounded grim, guilty even.

“And what did they want in return? Our souls?”

He shook his head. “Only mine.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. He cupped her face with his big palm.

“Some things aren't ours to give away,” she said. “I'm glad you came home.”

“It was because of you.”

“Was it?” She turned her face, kissed a callus on his hand.

“I thought I might do it, join them—that's what they wanted. In that second, it seemed an easier way to get my freedom. But then I saw you, there in my mind, smiling, believing in the man I could be. It was you who kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

“No, Boone. That was all you. You are a stronger person than you know.”

“I think I need to kiss you now.” He set his coffee on the rail, wrapped both of his arms around her.

“I'm naked under the coat.”

“I noticed.”

* * *

Melinda stared at her breakfast oatmeal waiting for it to look appealing.

Across the table Giselle was speaking to Trudy, but Melinda found it difficult to focus enough to join in or even pay attention.

Last night, Boone had noticed she was naked under the coat, given her a rousing kiss that she was certain held a heart full of emotion.

In the very moment that she thought he was about to slip his hand under the soft wool, caress her until she couldn't see, couldn't breathe—truly, his fingers had been plucking at the button over her heart—all of a sudden he'd patted her on the head and sent her off to bed. Alone.

Alone more or less. An hour after she'd stomped up the loft ladder, he came in.

She'd heard the creak of the rungs as he'd climbed, felt the shift of the straw when he lay beside her. Was well aware of the strip of cold air between their bodies.

Before he'd declared his love they had slept her back to his belly. For the warmth, is what he'd claimed.

She knew better of course; it was for the comfort of human contact.

As of last night, he apparently no longer wanted that. Not if it offended his newly found sense of honor.

Blast the man! At least her troubled outlaw chased away the night chill.

Absently she slid her oatmeal toward Giselle. A mother with a suckling child needed food more than a heartsick bride did.

“I imagine your papa will be relieved to hear the news,” Giselle said.

News? Melinda chastised herself for being so caught up in her own self-pity that she missed something critical.

Perhaps even wonderful.

There could only be one reason Edward Spears would be relieved about anything these days. Trudy and Stanley becoming engaged!

Given the intimacy the pair displayed in front of others, what, she could only wonder, happened in private? Well, such privacy as there was in a home with so many people staying in it.

No doubt Trudy was the recipient of more romance than Melinda. She, a married woman, in the seclusion of the loft, was all but a stranger to it.

Oddly, seeing Trudy's joy made her feel lonely. When she ought to feel giddy happiness for her friend, she was sullen, sulking and feeling sorry for herself.

That would not do. If tonight her husband shared the bed, and she was not convinced he would, she would not be naked under her coat. No, indeed. She would be naked on top of the blanket.

“Congratulations, Trudy. Stanley will be a wonderful husband.”

Melinda knew it beyond a doubt. Over the past weeks, she had become fond of the little lawyer. He had become her big brother, in heart if not reality.

Suddenly someone shouted and cursed vigorously from the area of the barn.

“Stanley?” Trudy bolted up. “I didn't think he knew those words.”

Melinda also stood. “All men know them—some just don't use them unless—”

She forgot what she was going to say when Edward began to curse and swear.

“I'll take the baby into the bedroom,” Giselle said. She closed the bedroom door behind her and didn't come back out.

“I wonder if Papa refused to let Stanley court me.”

That was unlikely since the courting had already begun in earnest. Trudy's father would hardly object at this point.

“We'd best go see.” Melinda took Trudy by the arm, urging her toward the door.

Something was going on and she was not about to be left in the dark about it.

Boone, Dr. Brown, Stanley and Edward huddled in a tight circle.

Dr. Brown gripped a boy by the arm. The adolescent struggled, trying to bite and kick. Unless she was mistaken, this was the King's messenger boy, the same one who had come before.

“Stanley! Papa!” All four of the men spun around when they heard Trudy's cry.

Stanley crushed something in his fist.

Trudy hurried across the yard toward him. Melinda ran a step behind.

“What is it?” Trudy snatched a piece of paper, fine-looking paper, from Stanley. Before she could unfurl it, he snatched it back and ripped it apart.

“What is it?” Melinda whispered, turning to Boone.

Stanley put his arm around Trudy's waist. Edward placed his hand on her shoulder.

“A demand,” Boone answered gruffly.

She hardly recognized the man she had married. Anger boiled hot and furious within him—it fired his eyes, stiffened his posture. His hands flexed as if he were crushing stones.

It could hardly be denied that each of the men looked like erupting volcanoes.

Boone took a breath then let it out in a slow hiss. “Lump is demanding Trudy. If she doesn't come, they're burning the food.”

Chapter Thirteen

M
elinda jumped, startled when Boone suddenly snatched the youngster from Dr. Brown.

He gripped the front of the child's shirt, bent over and stared him down. He looked as violent as his reputation portrayed. At least that is what the messenger would see.

Melinda saw something else. This show of bluster was for a purpose.

“You scared of me, boy?”

Defiantly he shook his head.

Melinda decided that the spot of urine blossoming on his pants said otherwise.

“You ain't nobody.” The adolescent kicked Boone's shin. Her husband did not acknowledge the blow.

“Who are you?”

“That ain't no never mind to you, but I'll be riding with the Kings, just as soon as I prove myself.”

“Hell's curses, I feel like I'm looking at myself at your age. Don't go that way, kid.”

For his wise advice, Boone received another kick in the shin spiced with a string of profanity.

“I'm going to let you go with a message of my own. You tell Lump and the others, they want Trudy, come and get her. I'll be waiting.”

That said, he released the aspiring outlaw. When the boy turned, Boone booted him in the rear and sent him sprawling.

“Better get used to it down there. That'll be your life and no mistake about it.”

He looked up with dirt crusting his tears, but in Melinda's opinion, the boy did not take Boone's message to heart. She only hoped that something would get through to him before he lost his soul.

No one moved, no one spoke, until the boy rode off, vanishing behind the crest of a hill.

“How long do I have, Boone?” Trudy asked, her shoulders straight but her chin wobbling.

Everyone looked to him. Somehow, in spite of his past, he was the one with answers, the one in charge.

Boone placed his big, capable hands on Trudy's shoulders, smiling while he looked down at her.

“You have your whole life, Miss Trudy. We're all going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“Load the guns,” Stanley snapped. “We need to practice.”

Boone dropped his hands. He stared at Stanley then at each one of them.

Except Melinda. He avoided looking at her and she knew it was deliberate.

“Load the guns in the wagon. Come midnight, all of you are hightailing it for Buffalo Bend.”

No!

Surely he didn't mean to stay here and meet the Kings by himself?

Even now he wouldn't meet her eye, but turned rather and strode quickly toward the barn.

“Boone!” she called.

She might as well have been a bug on the ground for all the attention he paid to her.

This would not do. She hurried after him.

“Boone, stop!” She pounded his back with her fist.

When he spun around, his expression was hard.

“You can't make me go.” Frustrated, tears pricked her eyes. “I'm staying with you.”

“No, you aren't.”

“You'll have to tie me on the wagon, then. I'll fight you.”

“You won't fight me because you know as well as I do that if they get by me here, they'll come after the wagon. And you're the only one who can shoot worth a damn.”

“But—”

“Everyone over there?” He inclined his head toward the group walking into the house. “They have nothing to do with this. I agreed to it, they didn't.”

“When I said ‘I do'—” she touched his face because it was so dear to her and if he sent her away she might never see it again “—I agreed, Boone. I'm staying.”

“Even if you're their best hope? They need you. It would be different if you couldn't shoot a cow at ten feet. But, you—you'd make your Annie Oakley sit up and take a look. It's up to you to see them safe away, just like it's up to me to get rid of what Kings I can. You see that, don't you?”

The misery of it was that she did see it. She also saw that Boone would probably be killed if he faced the gang alone.

How could he force her to make an impossible choice?

Hard truth kicked her in the heart, reminding her that he was not forcing a choice. Just pointing to the only choice there was.

He touched her chin with one big finger, lifted her face.

“I'm counting on you, honey.”

Then he kissed her, sweetly, tenderly, while hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

* * *

Bread and butter sat on the dinner table, sliced and ready to eat. But even with the enticement of strawberry jam, all anyone did was stare at it.

Taut nerves twisted Melinda's stomach, making her feel half nauseous. She went to the window, gazed out at the night.

A storm was gathering, which seemed fitting.

“Do you think we ought to wait so long to leave?” Trudy asked. “Maybe we should go now?”

“No. I want to be sure the Kings aren't on the road already,” Boone said. “For now it's safer here. But if they haven't shown by midnight, we can assume that they don't want to leave their beds. At least the storm's in our favor.”

In the window's reflection, she saw Giselle finish feeding Diana then button the front of her shirt. She stood, carried the baby to Boone.

“I owe the folks in this room so much,” she said, setting Diana in his arms. “Doc, for bringing my baby safely into the world, of course, but I never expected to be beholden to an outlaw and his wife. When I first saw the pair of you, I was frightened; quite distrustful. I just want you to know that when Diana's old enough to be told what happened here she will know that Boone Walker, a hero, saved her life.”

Giselle's footsteps crossed the wood floor, becoming quiet for the time that she walked over the rug.

“I still can't figure out how you talked Bird out of killing us.” She touched Melinda's arm where it was folded around her middle. “I'll puzzle over it the rest of my days.”

“Well, the gun spoke rather loudly. But, still, it's not so hard to convince men of things.” Melinda glanced over at Giselle, tried to smile. “You understand.”

Giselle shook her head. “I wish I did. If I could do what you do, my husband would be here today. You, my friend, could have talked Efrin into licking his own boots clean.”

When Diana began to fuss, Giselle kissed Melinda's cheek then went back to her infant.

Melinda focused her gaze past the window's reflection. Lightning skittered across the horizon, but closer to the house the sky still glittered with stars.

“You going back to Jasper Springs, Doc Brown?” she heard Edward say.

“It used to be a good place to live. For the sake of those who didn't make it, I'd like to go back. Make their deaths count for something. For now, I reckon I'll wait and see.”

Wait and see if Boone—if he killed enough of them to free the town before he was murdered?

If he did survive it would be because others died. Not that they hadn't freely invited their fates. But given Boone's feelings about killing, would he be able to live with the regret?

This and similar questions had lashed at her all afternoon. It was hard to remember when she'd been so sick at heart.

No doubt she couldn't remember because she never had been.

“What about you, Edward? Where will your new start be?” the doc asked.

“I reckon I'll go where Trudy and Stanley settle. I'd like to rebuild in Jasper Springs, but I'll like grandbabies even more.”

“Is there a lawyer in Jasper Springs?” Stanley asked.

If one more person discussed plans for a happy future she might scream out loud.

Surely they realized that their protector's future might only consist of the next several hours and that she had no future at all without him.

“There used to be a fine lawyer. But not since the Kings declared their own law.”

From what they were saying, the poor fellow hadn't lasted a month before the Kings killed him for standing up to them.

Next, the conversation turned to weapons. What they would take with them in the wagon and what Boone would keep here.

Her mind wandered morbidly until she heard Stanley's voice.

“Given that I haven't finished seeing to Boone's freedom,” Stanley announced, “I've decided to remain behind when the rest of you go.”

Well, she truly could not love the lawyer more if he were her blood-and-bone brother.

“I appreciate that, but you'll be needed to protect the women and the children.”

“Edward and Dr. Brown will protect them. I'm with you.”

She didn't want to return her attention to the room's reflection, but couldn't help herself.

“You're a good friend, Stanley.” Boone was smiling, falsely, she believed, but smiling nonetheless. “But you're about to become a married man. You've got responsibilities.”

And Boone was not a married man!

“As do you, my friend,” Stanley murmured.

She spun around. Heat flushed her face while she stared Boone down. A blow to the gut could not feel worse. How was it that he put more value on another's marriage than on his own?

The ache in her chest nearly doubled her up. Worse, words failed her. Without her best weapon to aid her, there was nothing left to do but dash out the front door and race for the sanctuary of the loft.

Stars that had been visible moments ago disappeared behind a mass of heavy clouds.

She wiped tears from her cheeks.

The storm was coming faster than anyone had expected.

* * *

Boone tore out of the house in time to see the barn door slam with such force that it bounced open again. He ran across the yard feeling the first drops of icy rain hit him in the face.

Lightning blasted a hilltop in the distance.

Rushing into the barn, he bolted the door against the rising wind. “Melinda!”

He didn't see her but he heard her weeping.

The wrenching cry cut him to the quick. If there was one person in the world he did not want to hurt, one above all others who did not deserve it, it was his sweet, brave bride.

Hustling up the ladder rungs two at a time, he came over the top to find her laying facedown on their straw bed.

Kneeling beside her, he touched her hair where it curled down her back. She had no way of knowing the number of times he'd imagined giving her pleasure on this bed. Never once had he wanted to bring her tears.

Curse him for being the one to cause this anguish. He gathered her up, bent his head over hers, rocking.

“Honey, I'm sorry, so very sorry.”

“Why is Stanley and Trudy's future more important than ours?”

It felt as if he'd been gut shot seeing the anguish on her face, the way her arms hugged her middle instead of him.

Because they had one, he thought, but figured that was something she didn't need to hear.

“If the way we feel about each other was the only thing that mattered, life would be a mite easier.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled his arms tighter around her. If only he could shut out the world as easily as he'd locked the barn door. “I never expected to love you so much—

“Hell, that's a bald lie. I reckon I should have known it could happen from the first. You were so beautiful, Melinda. So perfect, that I couldn't figure out what a lady like you was doing at my trial. I haven't been able to accept you and me together and it's because I was afraid of it ending this way.”

“Why, Boone?” Her voice cracked on a sob. Her despair, the hitch of her shoulders, plowed into his heart because his Melinda never cried. “I don't understand why it has to end at all.”

“I won't say why, but I reckon I don't need to.”

She shoved away from him. Wriggling out of his embrace, she knelt on the bed, her fists curled on her thighs.

“You are not going to die!” Her breath came in fast, hard gulps. “Don't send me away. I'll fight. So will Stanley.”

“I know you want to, but my attention would be on protecting you. I'll have a better chance on my own.”

“You won't! I'm not helpless and I don't need protecting. I'll do what's needed. Just because I've never killed a man doesn't mean I wouldn't do it.”

“Brave words. I believe you mean them. But I've seen men who are used to killing hesitate. A half a second is all it is between life and death. You've seen it.”

“I won't hesitate.”

“Look.” He reached toward her then let his hand drop when she turned her cheek away from his caress. “I'm not saying you won't be called upon to fire your gun, just that it won't be in my defense.”

“There are three men to watch out for Giselle and the baby. Even Trudy is a fair shot.”

“Trudy hits one can out of ten.” He folded his arms across his chest, hoping he looked more commanding than he felt. “If you believe the men can shoot any better, you're fooling yourself.”

She looked up, silently staring at the rafters—or an abandoned bird's nest, he couldn't be sure. Hell, she was probably looking at his cold, dead body.

A sudden deluge of rain hit the roof. It slammed against the walls, made the mule stomp in his stall and bray.

“Honey, those innocent lives mean something. Think of the baby. She deserves her shot at life. I know you believe that.”

Melinda covered her upturned face with her hands. He thought she might be praying. He hoped she was praying, for him, for them all.

With a huff, a sigh, she lowered her hands. She stared at him, resignation tugging her mouth down at the corners.

“I'll do as you ask, Boone, because I love you and because, as much as I hate it to be so, you are right.”

Thunder pummeled the roof hard enough to sprinkle dust from the rafters down upon their heads.

“I want one thing in return,” she added once the pounding rolled toward the east. She wiped the tears from her face, sniffed. “If I'm to be a widow, don't leave me a virgin. I want— I need my husband.”

She was asking him to cross the one line he had vowed that he would not. The line that he had crossed so many times in his mind.