Rebel Outlaw

by Carol Arens

  Maybe she was, if his devilish grin was anything to go by...and his last name was Travers.

  “It only makes sense to share the body warmth,” he explained.

  That big muscular body of his would give off a lot of heat.

  “We will have all our clothes on, and our jackets,” she murmured, thinking out loud.

  “Just have to keep our mouths shut about it. Can’t let the ladies know.”

  “Let’s get warm.” She stooped down then crawled between the covers of the makeshift bed.

  He slipped in under the blankets, wrapped his arms about her, and snuggled her up tight.

  She knew the second that she felt his heart beat against her arm, the very instant that she smelled the warm male scent of his skin, that she had made a mistake.

  There was nothing for it now but to let his heat seep into her. It touched her hip; it swirled about her legs and melted the shivers from her chest.

  She couldn’t help it... She sighed deeply and snuggled in closer.

  “Better?” he asked, his voice rich and husky sounding.

  “Much, how about you?”

  His head nodded against her hair.

  Bitter wind howled over the ground. It rocked the wagon. One horse snorted and another whickered.

  “Look at all those stars.” She needed something to say since she was a mile from being sleepy. The dome of glittering crystal was the perfect thing to talk about since it put on a spectacular show. It would be a neutral point of conversation, nothing remotely personal about it.

  Oh, but he smelled exactly like the man of her dreams. She had to remind herself that Colt Wesson might not be a dream, but an outlaw...a nightmare.

  Who was he, really? Grannie Rose and Aunt Tillie thought the world of him, but they would—he was their baby.

  “I want you to know how much I thought of your granddaddy,” he said, watching the stars but apparently not wanting to join her in talking about them.

  “He and Grandma were everything to me. I don’t like to think about what my life would have been if it hadn’t been for them.”

  “Your Granddaddy and I used to sit up late when all the other hotel guests went up to bed. I just want you to know that we got to know each other well. He didn’t sell the ranch out from under you just to hand it over to a stranger.”

  “He never told me about you.” The news of the ranch being sold had been a complete shock.

  “I expect he should have. He told me about you. He never said you were so pretty, though.” Colt stated it as a fact, not a compliment.

  “We talked about your ma and pa, too. He told me that when he and your grandma got word of your daddy’s death, it near killed them both.”

  “I guess Granddaddy really did take a liking to you. That’s not a story he told to everyone.”

  It meant something that Granddaddy trusted Colt. Maybe it meant she could, as well.

  No one but Mama had known that Holly Jane was on the way when her father had been killed in a hotel fire. Daddy had died saving Mama. Seven months later Mama had shown up at the ranch ready to give birth. Grandma and Granddaddy took her in. A year later the circus came and set up on the ranch, like they always did. This time, when the circus left, so did Mama.

  “He told me that you gave them their lives back.” He pointed up at the heavens. “Did you see that star shoot across the sky?”

  “I must have blinked and missed it.” Stars were such a mystery. It was lovely to watch them while she felt warm and safe with Colt wrapped all around her. They had never looked so pretty. “Don’t you wonder where they go? Do they settle somewhere else and shine again?”

  “Could be, or they just keep on going.” He was silent for a moment, watching the show in the sky. “Like folks. Some stay put and others shoot off to somewhere else.”

  “Like my mama, I reckon. Grannie Rose and Aunt Tillie said you left home.”

  “Had to. But it turns out I’m not one to keep on going. Because of your granddaddy I get to settle.”

  “Yes...and I’ll watch you from my carousel.” She didn’t intend to sound resentful, but there it was.

  “As long as I own the ranch, you have a home.”

  She wanted to believe that, but it wasn’t something she could count on. She would work hard at The Sweet Treat to insure her own financial future.

  He must have turned his attention away from the stars and to her because his voice ruffled the hair on her temple.

  “I’m sorry things worked out for you this way. I know it wasn’t fair, but your granddaddy meant what was best for you.”

  He had, she knew it. Had he not sold to Colt, unsuitable suitors would still be after her. How long would it have been before one of them could not be placated with a chocolate cake?

  “I’m sleepy now,” she said because she didn’t want to talk any longer. “Good night, Colt.”

  “Holly Jane?”

  Cold fingers touched her cheek. He turned her face toward his.

  He kissed her in a sweet and brief, tender brush of lips.

  “Sleep tight.”

  A moment later she felt his chest rise and fall in the slow regular pattern of sleep.

  Wind rocked the wagon. Horses stomped and whickered. The steam of their breath rose in puffs all about the buckboard.

  Up in the sky one star shone brighter than the others. She watched it drift halfway across the sky before she fell asleep to dream of an outlaw capturing her heart.

  Chapter Seven

  The string of horses tied on the back of the wagon stirred up a heap of dust and a whole lot of attention as they came down the main street of Friendship Springs.

  Much of it, Colt noticed, was admiration for the beautiful creatures.

  A boy about ten years old followed their progress on the boardwalk, his face eager and full of dreams. Time flashed backward and Colt was that boy.

  Had it not been for the twist of destiny that made a locomotive break down, he would never have met William Munroe. He might still be standing on the boardwalk watching other folks’ dreams come true.

  He wouldn’t have met Holly Jane.

  He didn’t know what made him kiss her last night. Her lips had been full and shining by starlight, her round firm breast pressing close to his heart and her breath puffing warm against his neck... But it wasn’t any of those things.

  The kiss hadn’t sprung from body urges, even though she proved to be curvy in all the right places. It had been an expression of comfort since she had been hurting over the loss of her grandfather and the ranch.

  Heartache is what she had inherited. It wasn’t right that all she had left was a small piece of ground and a broken-down carousel. There was The Sweet Treat, but that wasn’t much considering all she had lost.

  Not only had she lost most everything, but she’d gained a guardian that she figured she didn’t need.

  If he were in her place he’d be spitting mad. Holly Jane was a better person than he was, though. Once she’d made her point in messing the house, she’d treated Grannie and Aunt Tillie like kin.

  On the surface, William’s actions did seem to wrong Holly Jane, but Colt knew that the man had done the only thing he could. She needed protection.

  They hadn’t even reached Town Square and already he’d seen two men lounging against a hitching post glaring at the herd.

  An elderly man burst out of the barbershop with shaving cream covering half his jaw. He didn’t bother hiding his animosity. Colt guessed the fellow was old man Folsom, William’s onetime friend.

  It wasn’t in either family’s best interest for Colt’s ranch to prosper. If it failed, whichever family strong-armed their way in would cut off the water to the other.

  Because Colt was the owner of William’s ranc
h, for the moment, Holly Jane was not a pawn in their game. He aimed to keep it that way. But the time might come when they discovered that she still owned a bit of it...a bit that the water flowed through.

  When they reached The Sweet Treat, Grannie and Aunt Tillie waited for them on the front porch. The pig slept in a patch of sunshine with her curly pink tail twitching at a fly.

  Colt jumped out of the wagon quick, before Holly Jane could scramble down. More than one woman had caught her skirt on a hook or a bolt and taken a tumble to the ground.

  With his arms reaching up for her, there was nothing for her to do but fall into them. She set her hands on his shoulders while his rounded her waist.

  It struck him that this is where his hands belonged...on Holly Jane, caressing her curves as though she might consider him her equal.

  Hell, it wouldn’t be a hardship to let his hands linger a moment, but Grannie and Aunt Tillie watched like birds spotting an afternoon worm.

  “Any trouble while we were gone?”

  “Not for us,” Auntie Tillie answered. “But Mrs. Evelyn Broadhower bloodied the nose of Miss Ellie Folsom. Some business of who was to get the last ham at the butcher.”

  “We kept Lulu inside most of yesterday afternoon,” Grannie added. “One can’t be too careful.”

  “I assume your trip was a success?” Aunt Tillie glanced hopefully between him and Holly Jane.

  “It all went according to plan, not a bit of trouble,” he was pleased to be able to say.

  “And you got the horses, too.” Grannie came down the steps and embraced Holly Jane. “We made you three dollars and forty-five cents and met some lovely people doing it.”

  “Some Broadhower women and some Folsom women...not at the same time naturally,” said Aunt Tillie.

  “Lock up, ladies. Let’s get these ponies home.”

  “It’s a wonderful herd, Colt,” Aunt Tillie remarked as he helped her onto the buckboard. “How will you decide which stallion will go with which mare?”

  “What do you say, Holly Jane? You up for the job?”

  His aunt and his grandmother turned to stare at him, grins crinkling the delicate skin of their faces.

  Well, hell. By calling Holly Jane her given name, he’d all but told the old ladies that they had spent the night tangled up in each other.

  The ladies might believe that they’d gotten their way, but what they didn’t know is how innocent the night had been.

  What he would not admit to them is how very deeply he had been touched by Holly Jane. He’d never known that so many strong, and at the same time gentle, qualities could be wrapped up in one sweet little lady.

  Nope, it wouldn’t be good to admit that to them when he was having the devil of a time admitting it to himself.

  Holly Jane was an innocent. He was not. In the long run, they would not suit.

  No matter how he wished it otherwise, his past made him unfit for her.

  * * *

  The ladies wanted someplace special to wear their new dresses, and church, they decided, was the place to do it. After that, the hotel for a fancy supper.

  Walking down the lane to town with Grannie Rose dressed in her pink, Aunt Tillie in her blue and she in violet, Holly Jane nearly laughed out loud. They must look like a bouquet of giggling flowers with Colt in his black suit as the stem.

  “We haven’t been to church in too many years to count, have we, sister?” Grannie Rose said.

  “Not since Mama and Papa had to tie us to the pew to keep us still.”

  Holly Jane hadn’t been to church in quite some time, either. She’d feared that her presence might cause a disturbance. Since there was only one place of worship in Friendship Springs, both the Folsoms and the Broadhowers attended.

  As it turned out, the Travers group did cause a bit of a stir when they came in, even though they sat in the back row. She didn’t think it was because folks were relieved to see her back among the flock in her pretty violet gown. More likely it was Colt Wesson they were interested to see.

  Single ladies craned their necks to look at him. Married ladies did, too, but more discreetly.

  Word that Colt had broken up a fight between the feuding men on his first day in town had spread, making him into something of a hero.

  After the service, the Broadhower family and the Folsom family marched out of the sanctuary stiff-necked, with the men on both sides shooting sullen glares at Colt.

  Evidently, the preacher’s message on neighborliness had not reached their hearts.

  The other members of the congregation gave him a warm welcome, shaking his hand and wishing him good luck with the ranch.

  The women seemed especially warm in their greetings. They tittered and cooed. They batted their eyes and let their hands rest overlong in his.

  They made Holly Jane want to put salt in their sweets. She slapped her hand over her mouth just in time to keep from telling Hilde Brown to pay attention to her own beau and not Holly Jane’s.

  She was the one not paying attention to the preacher now. And, by the saints, Colt was not her beau.

  She walked away from the group, over to a grove of trees whose red leaves twisted in a cool autumn breeze. Since she didn’t feel like smiling, she gave herself some time away until she would be more pleasant company.

  Snuggling into her shawl, she leaned back against a tree trunk to wait for the visiting to be over...and to set things straight in her mind.

  Just because Colt had kissed her good-night did not mean that he belonged to her. And she certainly did not belong to him.

  At least not until she knew for sure the kind of man who could tease a woman senseless with a wink of seductive dimples.

  She glanced over at Hilde, laughing and flirting. Her mama, standing beside her, looked as proud as a peahen.

  Just because Holly Jane might be a wee bit jealous did not make Colt her beau.

  It was true that she had fallen in love with him the moment she first saw him bending over her bed, but no fewer than six of the girls she had grown up with were doing the same at this very moment. That did not make him their beau, either.

  Colt Wesson was simply an irresistible man. But resist him, she would. They had agreed on the rules. He liked her and she liked him. The kiss he had given her was nothing more than a friendly wish good-night... It was neighborly, and he was her neighbor. His property wrapped all around hers like a circle around the moon.

  She shouldn’t look over at the church steps. Hilde was a persistent flirt. No doubt she had lassoed herself a second beau by now. Although, she couldn’t imagine Colt as second to anyone.

  A quick peek wouldn’t hurt, and with just one eye.

  Grannie Rose and Aunt Tillie had flanked Colt, one on his left and the other on his right. Any woman who approached him now would have to converse with the elderly women first.

  That shouldn’t please her. The Travers sisters were matchmaking.

  She and Colt had agreed that they were not meant to be matched up.

  * * *

  Holly Jane stood behind the counter of The Sweet Treat with her chin propped in her hands. She looked out the window, watching the steady drip of cold rain falling on Town Square.

  Since the rain began, there hadn’t been a single customer. She’d baked and frosted, nibbled cookies and petted Lulu, and now there was nothing left to do but gaze out at the damp weather and think.

  She tried to picture the new horses, the chicks in the barn who were now a week and a half old. She wondered what Aunt Tillie would fix for supper, but only one thought stuck in her mind.

  Colt Wesson’s bare chest.

  Before daylight, she had gone to the barn to feed the chickens, just like she always did. This morning Colt had gotten there before her and was cleaning out the stalls.


  He’d taken off his shirt to do it.

  Lantern light rippled over the lean, brawny muscles of his back as they stretched and flexed.

  Her footsteps rustled through the straw scattered on the dirt floor.

  She was having the devil of a time forgetting the smile he had flashed at her, the way his dimples flickered in the lamplight. He always looked like he knew something that no one else did.

  A sudden knock at the back door saved her from wondering too long what was behind that grin.

  Someone wanting in through the rear was unusual.

  Lulu woke up from a nap on her rug and paddled through the kitchen to investigate.

  Holly Jane opened the door to sixteen-year-old Bethanne Folsom standing under a black umbrella.

  “May I come in, Miss Munroe?”

  Holly Jane took the umbrella and set it beside the oven.

  “Let me get you some hot chocolate.”

  Bethanne followed her through the kitchen and into the main room.

  “Why don’t you sit by the table near the fireplace?”

  “I’d like one farther from the window, if that’s all right.”

  Holly Jane nodded. “The hot chocolate won’t be a minute. Is there anything else you’d like?”

  Bethanne studied the pastry case.

  “A slice of white cake...and a favor.”

  “What is it you need?” she asked.

  “I’m expecting a guest. Can I have two slices of cake and two hot chocolates?”

  “Treats with a guest on a rainy afternoon? It sounds lovely.”

  “Miss Munroe?” Bethanne said at the same time that another knock sounded at the back door. “My guest is Susan Broadhower.”

  “I reckon I’d better let her in before she gets soaked through.”

  Since Susan was indeed soaked through, the girls moved to the table near the fireplace.

  Holly Jane set the hot chocolate on the table then brought the cake.

  The girls looked nervous, talking and laughing but glancing out the window every other minute.

  Holly Jane closed the curtain. She locked the front door and flipped the Open sign to Closed.