Outlaw's Bride

by Maureen McKade

  “As soon as you help Mr. Beaudry out of the tub, I can get started cooking,” Mattie said, keeping her eyes averted from the two men. “I’ll wait outside.”

  She dropped the razor on the table and scurried out of the house.

  “Well, there, Beaudry, looks like you got to start mindin’ your manners,” Herman said.

  “I—”

  “Don’t you try lyin’ to me. I’ve been around for a few years and don’t need no book to tell me what I just seen.” Herman waved a finger in his face. “That little girl’s been hurt enough—she don’t need your hurtin’, too.”

  Clint didn’t like the idea of someone taking advantage of Mattie—yet wasn’t that what he had almost done? “Help me outta here before I shrivel up like a damned raisin,” he growled.

  Herman leaned over, then cackled. “Looks like you already done turned into a raisin.”

  “That isn’t funny. A man could be permanently damaged if he’s interrupted at a—a delicate time,” Clint said defensively.

  “Well, there’d best not be another ‘delicate time’ around Mattie. I’m gonna be keepin’ my eye on you.”

  First the sheriff, now Herman. What was it about Mattie St. Clair that made men want to protect her? Whatever it was, Clint wasn’t immune to it, either. Maybe it was her pride and determination to do everything by herself.

  Herman helped him up, then Clint dried himself and dressed with the old man’s assistance.

  “I thought you was deader’n a beaver hat when me and Andy found you,” Herman commented.

  Clint grinned wryly. “Me, too. By the way, I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

  “No need. I only done what any other man would’ve.”

  “Thanks anyhow.”

  “You jest get better so’s you can leave Mattie and Andy afore the leavin’s gonna be too hard on them.”

  Clint’s smile faded. The problem was, it went both ways—leaving Mattie and Andy was going to be difficult for him, too.

  Mattie did something she hadn’t done in years—she laid on her bed in the middle of the day staring up at her bedroom ceiling. After she had escaped Herman’s censuring gaze and Clint’s smoldering look, she’d circled the house and reentered through the front door.

  Her body hummed and her nerves were sensitive to the very air surrounding her. He had warned her, but she’d blithely convinced herself she could resist the attraction between them. She should have known any contact, especially one as intimate as shaving, would only incite more temptation. But God help her, she’d delighted in the texture of his face against her palm, his breath across her cheek, and the slow burn that started in her belly.

  She remembered her father allowing her to skim the razor across his whiskers and his fond laughter when she’d asked him when she could start shaving.

  Who would teach Andy how to shave in a few years? If Kevin asked her to marry him, maybe he would be the one. But could she be content to wed a man who didn’t fire her blood like Clint Beaudry did?

  Mattie sat up on the bed and smoothed her hair back, then crossed to the oval mirror above her dresser. She scrutinized her nearly threadbare dress and her sunburned nose. Jason had told her she was the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on, but that had been eleven years ago. That girl had disappeared, replaced by a widow who used all her money on her son’s needs instead of a new dress for herself.

  So what had Clint seen in her?

  No matter how hard she searched, Mattie could see nothing in her reflection that would attract a man like him.

  Nothing except loneliness.

  Chapter 6

  Nearly three weeks after he’d been shot, Clint awakened feeling stiff, but the pain that had dogged him for so long had decreased to a tolerable ache. He donned his clothing alone for the first time, then shaved.

  After he rinsed his face with the cool water, he blindly reached for the towel, and someone handed it to him. He opened his eyes to find Mattie beside him. Her appearance in his room so early made him wish she’d been there all night, too. No doubt about it, that part of him had fully recovered.

  “Mornin’,” he greeted.

  “Good morning,” she replied in the same formal tone she’d adopted since their near-kiss.

  Her gaze swept from his head down to his toes and back up to his chest. His belly tightened and his blood headed south as if her hands had followed the same path across his bare skin.

  “You’re dressed,” she said.

  He smiled and leaned with his weight resting on one leg. “I hear civilized people do it every day.”

  Her lips twitched, but her smile died before maturing. “It’s nice to see you’re civilized.”

  “You didn’t think I was?”

  “Civilized people don’t need guns.”

  If she’d seen the violence he’d witnessed during his time as a lawman, she wouldn’t be so quick to judge. “That’s right, but not everyone is civilized,” he said grimly.

  “They would be if no one carried a weapon.”

  Mattie was nearly as naive as Emily had been, believing that men were essentially good. His wife had paid the price for her naïveté; he didn’t want Mattie to do the same. “Do you have a gun?”

  She glanced away. “I have Jason’s.” She folded her arms around her waist. “I haven’t touched it since the day he was buried.”

  “Living out here alone, you should keep that gun close by.”

  Mattie lifted her gaze and obstinacy blazed in her eyes. “I’ve lived here for years and haven’t needed one yet.”

  Damned stubborn woman.

  “But someday you might.”

  “We’ll see, Mr. Beaudry.” She paused. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”

  “I’m ready, but I’m doing it myself this time.” He’d had enough of feeling like a damned invalid.

  “And if you can’t?”

  Even when she was trying to help, she was the most contrary woman he’d ever met. “Then you’ll be proven right.” He donned his black wide-brimmed hat.

  Without a word, Mattie led him out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs. “I’m going down ahead of you in case you start to fall.”

  Clint shook his head. “Stay here.” He raised her chin gently with his forefinger. “If I fall, it’s only going to be me I hurt, understand?”

  “I’m stronger than I look.”

  He wasn’t used to someone watching over him. Even when he was married, he hadn’t been home enough to grow accustomed to another person worrying about him. To have Mattie so concerned about his welfare disconcerted him. “I’m not going to be indebted to you any more than I already am.”

  Finally, she nodded.

  Relieved she’d given in without further debate, Clint grabbed hold of the banister and took the first step. The extreme pain and weakness he expected didn’t come and he moved with more confidence. He paused halfway down, his legs and arms trembling.

  A touch on his shoulder startled him and he turned to see Mattie directly behind him. “Do you need help?”

  Impatience gave him a burst of energy. “You said you’d stay at the top of the stairs.”

  She shrugged innocently. “I only agreed not to go down ahead of you.”

  Damn, the woman could twist words around better than a lawyer. “Like I said, I’ll do it myself,” he said curtly.

  “Whatever you say, Mr. Beaudry.”

  Continuing down, he almost managed to make it to the bottom. He stumbled on the second step and Mattie grabbed his arm, stopping his fall.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, his cheeks warm.

  “That wasn’t so difficult, now, was it?” she asked with a sugary-coated voice.

  He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Mattie released him. “Congratulations. You did it.”

  Clint pressed his hat back and wiped his damp brow. Though he’d passed his first test, if Mattie hadn’t been there, he would have taken a bad
tumble. He hated being so dependent on someone.

  “The sooner I can do things for myself, the less time you have to spend playing nursemaid,” he said.

  “I don’t mind.”

  Although warmth flowed through him at her honest admission, he wouldn’t allow her to sidetrack his mission. “Maybe you don’t, but I do. I’m not a good patient.”

  “I’ve had worse.” Mattie walked toward the kitchen, her hips moving with innocent seduction. “You can sit outside and I’ll bring you some coffee when it’s ready.”

  “I think I’ll have some water in the meantime.”

  He followed her into the kitchen and located a tin cup from a cupboard, then began to work the hand pump. Despite the discomfort, he managed to fill his cup.

  Clint took a sip of water as he paused to watch Mattie begin her daily routine. He indulged in admiring her slender figure and the thick mass of dark hair gathered at her nape. It amazed him that a passionate woman like Mattie had been without a man for ten years. When she finally remarried, her husband would more than likely have his hands full.

  In more ways than one.

  Clint’s breath caught in his throat as jealousy slammed into his gut. He didn’t want to imagine Mattie married to some fumble-fingered man who only made love to her under the cover of darkness. If it was him, he would turn up the lamp and undress her himself, taking his time with each button and prolonging the sweet torture. He wanted to see her pale skin and full breasts in full glory.

  Hot blood raced through his veins. Damn.

  “I’ll call you when breakfast is ready,” Mattie said.

  Startled, Clint hoped she hadn’t been able to read his lusty thoughts. He went out to the porch and glanced at his usual chair. Too restless to sit down, he placed his empty cup on the seat and walked gingerly across the yard, a hand pressed to his side.

  He stopped at the corral and Dakota greeted him with a nicker. Clint carefully leaned against the top pole and his horse nuzzled his ear, making him chuckle. He rubbed Dakota’s forehead affectionately. His horse was the one thing in his life that had remained constant for the past ten years.

  “Did you miss me, girl?”

  The sorrel tossed her head and snorted.

  “Thanks a lot.” Clint glanced around the pen, which also held an older mare. “If I had it as easy as you, I wouldn’t have missed me, either.”

  “I curried and brushed her every day, like I do with Polly,” Andy said.

  Clint glanced down to see the boy beside him. He ruffled his hair. “Thanks, Andy. Both Dakota and I appreciate it.”

  “That’s a funny name for a horse.”

  “A Frenchman sold her to me in a town called Medora, up in the Dakota Territory.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “About five hundred miles away.”

  Andy shook his head. “That must be near the end of the world. What were you doin’ there?”

  “Bringing a prisoner back to stand trial for murder,” Clint replied.

  “You a lawman?”

  Damn—he’d slipped up. “Used to be.”

  “Why’d you quit?”

  Clint patted Dakota’s neck and shrugged. “Things happen that make you move on.”

  “You don’t want to tell me, do you?”

  Startled, Clint looked down at Andy, who was dressed in overalls and wearing a straw hat. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because Ma does the same thing. When I ask her about my pa, she never answers my questions, but says he died doing his job.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He was the sheriff of Green Valley, just like Sheriff Atwater is now.”

  Clint mulled over this new piece of information.

  Andy climbed up and perched on the top corral rail, then reached over to pat Dakota’s neck. “He died before I was born.”

  Sympathy tugged at Clint’s heart. He and his father didn’t always see eye to eye, but Clint still loved and respected him. “Kinda tough not having a pa.”

  Andy took a deep breath. “I s’pose, but I don’t like to tell Ma that. She works real hard trying to take care of me all by herself.” The boy threaded his fingers through Dakota’s mane. “But she doesn’t understand what it’s like.”

  “What what’s like?”

  “All the other boys know how to use a gun except me. She says that if I don’t ever learn to use one, I won’t end up being killed like my pa was.”

  Clint’s gut muscles clenched. So that’s why Mattie was so hell-bent against guns. “Maybe I can talk to her, get her to let me teach you how to shoot.”

  Andy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “You think so?”

  Clint laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I can’t promise. All I can do is try. If nothing else, maybe we can get her to let you use a rifle. A man needs to know how to hunt.”

  “That’s what I told her, but she still said no.”

  Clint could understand Mattie’s protectiveness, but she shouldn’t smother the boy. “You let me talk to her and we’ll see what happens,” he said.

  “All right, but I won’t get my hopes up.” He grinned at Clint. “Ma can be as stubborn as a cross-eyed mule.”

  “Yep, I’ve figured that out myself.”

  Clint and Andy’s shared laughter drifted in through the open kitchen window and Mattie stopped to look out at them. Standing by the corral, Clint had his arm around Andy’s shoulders. The image burned itself into Mattie’s mind and her throat tightened.

  When she’d married Jason, she’d dreamed of moments like this. She’d pictured him as the perfect father, playing with his children and teaching them right from wrong. The reality, however, was that Jason had been a child himself, selfish and petulant. He hadn’t truly loved her—he’d only wanted her.

  The smell of burning flapjacks jerked Mattie’s attention back to breakfast. She quickly removed the pancakes from the griddle. Ever since Clint Beaudry had shown up, she found herself woolgathering too often.

  Ten minutes later, she called everyone in to eat.

  Clint and Andy strolled to the house from the corral, talking and laughing. Herman came out of the barn and joined them. Mattie watched them approach, her son sandwiched between the two men. An odd sense of contentment filled her and for a moment she wished this could be an everyday sight.

  Herman paused on the porch and sniffed the air. “Must be Saturday. I can smell the flapjacks.”

  “What do flapjacks have to do with Saturday?” Clint asked.

  “Ma only makes them once a week, though they’re me and Herman’s favorite,” Andy said.

  The flapjacks disappeared quickly, as did the bacon Mattie had fried up to go with it. Clint’s appetite had returned as he healed from the bullet wound and Mattie noticed his lean frame was filling out. His face wasn’t nearly as gaunt as it had been, and his ribs weren’t so prominent anymore, either.

  It wouldn’t be long before he was well enough to leave them. In the short time he’d been there, she’d grown accustomed to having him around. She would miss his husky-voiced morning greeting and his damnable pride that got her dander up.

  But most of all she would miss the way he made her feel when he looked at her—like she was still young and pretty.

  And desirable.

  The following morning, Mattie hesitated by Clint’s bedroom and glanced inside. It was empty. Had he left?

  Raising her skirt hem a few inches, she flew down the stairs. Clint came out of the kitchen and she stopped abruptly.

  “Where’s the fire?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  Her heartbeat thundering in her ears, Mattie met his mischievous gaze. “I, ah, I was just wondering where you’d gone to.”

  “Afraid I left?” He winked rakishly and Mattie’s bones suddenly turned to custard.

  “No, of course not,” she replied too quickly.

  In two steps Clint was directly in front of her. He placed both hands against the wall on either side of her, impris
oning her between his arms. He smelled faintly of shaving soap and leather, a mixture that teased her, invited her to breathe deeply of his masculine scent. Her breasts seemed to swell, her nipples pebbling against her Sunday dress.

  “When I leave, I won’t sneak out like a thief in the night,” he said in an intimate, low voice.

  Mattie’s gaze locked with his, and his penetrating eyes grew heavy-lidded and mesmerizing with temptation’s promise. Her body tingled, demanding she lean forward against his hard planes and surrender to the ache in her belly.

  Slowly, hypnotically, Clint lowered his head toward hers, never giving her a reprieve from the seduction in his eyes or the heat of his too-near body. Caught like a butterfly in a web, Mattie knew they shouldn’t be doing this. What if Andy saw them?

  She tried to summon the strength to move away from him, but then Clint cupped the back of her neck in his strong hand. Her skin tingled and heated beneath his touch, evaporating her resistance.

  He splayed his fingers through her hair, which she had left unbraided. When his warm lips feathered across hers, she lost whatever sliver of restraint remained. She placed her arms around his waist and a sane part of her remembered to be careful of his wound.

  He slanted his mouth across hers, this time giving a little more, and Mattie deepened the kiss. She felt the slight pressure of his tongue against her lips and she opened herself to him, taking and giving in equal measure. She drew her body flush with his and the hard ridge of his arousal pressed against her belly.

  Passion flowed fast and furious through Mattie. She only had to lead him upstairs to her room to share the pleasures she knew awaited them. It had been so long since she’d felt a man’s touch that she physically ached.

  But what if he got her pregnant? She’d be left to raise another child alone. And nothing was worth the pain of that again.

  Nothing.

  She flattened her palms against his broad chest and forced herself to push him away. She turned her head, breaking the kiss that had temporarily stolen her good sense. “Stop.”

  Clint drew back, his arms dropping to his sides and releasing Mattie from their sweet imprisonment. His face flushed and his nostrils flared in an obvious effort to regain control. “What the hell was that all about?”