Janie and the Judge (Montana Women Book 3)

by Nancy Pirri

  “Janie, no,” Simon begged.

  Her gaze narrowed on him. “Remember, Simon?” she murmured, “you didn’t want me. You spurned me, after taking what you wanted from me, you bastard.”

  A barking laugh tore from Gordon. “So, the old Judge don’t know how to treat a whore, does he? Come on, sweetheart, once I get rid of Old Judge Hopkins here, I’ll take you up on your offer of a night on the town together.”

  Her lips widened into a brilliant smile and she heard Simon cursing beneath his breath as she swung her hips and moved closer still. She was between James and Simon and his attacker. Consciously, she kept her eyes on Gordon, who thankfully seemed to only have eyes for her. Then she slid her hand up over her hip, past her waist, the sides of her breasts, then around to the front where she started to unbutton her gown.

  A quick glance at the gun in Gordon’s hand told Janie he was relaxing and not holding it quite so tightly. Excellent. Finally, she stopped directly in front of Simon. She forced a livid expression on her face, her eyes filled with hatred. A quick glance behind Simon and she saw Gordon lowering the gun, though he kept his arm around his prey. Had he loosened his grip? She prayed he had. Hating what she was about to do, in order to keep up the act, she had no choice. Raising her left hand, she hauled back and slapped him across one cheek.

  Tears filled her eyes when she saw the painful, sad expression in his eyes, still she said, “You lost your chance with me, Judge, a long time ago. Gordon, on the other hand, looks like he knows how to treat a lady,” she purred.

  Gordon laughed hysterically. “You ain’t no lady, but I don’t care. Whores are plenty good enough for me.”

  Janie felt moisture seep under her arms and sliding down her neck as she continued unbuttoning her gown until her corset was exposed. Gladness filled her soul when she saw she’d caught Gordon’s complete attention. He licked his lips as he stared at her breasts above the top of the corset.

  “How about we just leave the judge and sheriff alone and head back into town?” she said sultrily. Her hips swung more as she moved around Simon, brushing against Gordon’s muscular arm. The man was built like he did hard work for a living, broad with bulging muscles in his arms. She had to keep his attention on her, she knew, to give James the opportunity he needed.

  A quick glance and she saw Gordon’s arm loosen from around Simon’s neck. Her eyes were riveted on Gordon’s but she felt Simon tense beside her. Oh, God! He was going to make a move.

  The thought had barely entered her mind when he did. Quicker than a rattler attack, his arm shot up and he gripped Gordon’s wrist that held the gun. With the other hand Simon shoved her out of the way, so hard she fell to the ground. Scrambling to her feet she watched in horror as the two men grappled for the gun.

  “Janie! Get the hell out of the way!” James shouted as he ran toward them.

  Gordon’s arm was down now, still clutching the gun even though Simon had his hand wrapped around his wrist. Gordon’s other hand came down, slamming Simon’s wrist repeatedly, but Simon wouldn’t release him. Then he did and Gordon stumbled back a few steps and whipped the gun up, straight at Simon’s head.

  Janie didn’t think, just reacted. She snapped her gun up and pulled the trigger.

  “Shit!” Gordon shouted and dropped the gun, clutching his stomach. Hatred blazed in his eyes as he glared at her. “You shot me, you bitch!”

  Her eyes widened as he sank to his knees, teetered a moment before collapsing, face down. She slumped to the ground, her world tilting as she realized she’d just killed a man.

  Janie wakened to near darkness. As she started to sit up, hands pressed down on her shoulders.

  “Lie still, sweetheart. You fainted dead away, and I want to be sure you’re okay before you start moving again.”

  Simon hovered over her and she whimpered and raised her arms, pulling him down to her. “You’re all right, then? He didn’t shoot you?”

  He kissed her lips, then her neck, murmuring, “I’m just fine. He didn’t have a chance in hell of shooting me with you gunning him down.”

  Janie widened her eyes on him when she heard his humorous tone. “I just shot and killed a man! How can you make light of that?”

  Simon grinned, his white teeth flashing. “You shot him, in about the worst place a man could be shot—in the gut. But you didn’t kill him. He’ll be suffering a lot though as he heals, and he deserves every minute of that pain. I had no idea you knew how to shoot a gun.”

  “I don’t.”

  She heard James laughing and she looked to the opposite side of the buggie. They’d loaded her onto the floor and were standing on either side of it. She struggled to sit up and Simon took her hands and pulled her up and out of the wagon and into his arms.

  Janie wound her arms tight around his waist and hugged him, raising her lips to accept his kiss. Oh, the feel of his firm, intent kiss nearly made her swoon again. Gladness filled her heart then sadness filled it again; he was being so loving only because he’d been frightened for her. Nothing had changed between them.

  But then he made her own thoughts a lie when he murmured against her neck, “Marry me again, sweetheart. You were right all along.”

  She grabbed his arms and looked up into his face, her heart pounding. He was serious, she saw, knowing Simon would never joke about something so important. As tears flooded her eyes again she said, “I was always married to you, darling, in my heart, soul and mind—always.”

  He gulped. “Then forgive me for being an utter fool.”

  Janie flicked a quick glance at James and saw he’d moved away from them. Then she grinned. “I’m fairly certain I’ll make a fool of myself one time or another during our marriage so there’s really nothing to forgive.”

  “I treated you horribly, and you know it,” he said.

  “Yes, you did,” she said slowly, “but I think all along I knew, in my heart, you’d return to me.”

  “We’re getting married as soon as we get to town. I’ll find the preacher.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. But you know, Simon, you were right. There will always be someone at your back, wanting retribution.”

  His entire façade seemed to sink. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m still trying to deal with the idea of living in fear for your life for the rest of our lives together.”

  “Don’t, Simon. For as long as you’re looking out for my safety, I’ll be looking out for yours. If we always do that, no one can harm us.”

  “You are one smart lady, do you know that?”

  She laughed. “True. And a smart lady knows only a smart Judge is good enough for her.”

  “You two about done here with all the compliments?”

  They looked over at James standing there, looking red-faced and uncomfortable.

  Simon said, “Sorry, James, but everyone in town is going to have to come to grips with the fact that I’m in love with this woman and plan on proving it every day of our lives together. To make it official—again—will you marry me, Janie?”

  She sobbed and said, “Yes! But this better well be the last time you propose to me, Simon Hopkins!”

  “It will be. I promise it will be.”

  Simon met her lips and thanked God above for this woman who would forever change his life.

  For good.

  THE END

  THANK YOU FOR READING

  Did you enjoy this book?

  We invite you to leave a review at the site from which this book was purchased.

  DID YOU KNOW THAT LEAVING A REVIEW…

  Helps other readers find books they may enjoy.

  Gives you a chance to let your voice be heard.

  Gives authors recognition for their hard work.

  Doesn’t have to be long. A sentence or two about why you liked the book will do.

  Don’t miss out on your next favorite book!

  Join the Satin Romance mailing list

  Subscriber Perks Include:

  First pee
ks at upcoming releases.

  Exclusive giveaways.

  News of book sales and freebies right in your inbox.

  And more!

  Also by Nancy Pirri

  Montana Women

  Katie and the Marshal

  Annie and the Outlaw

  Janie and the Judge

  Contemporary Romance

  Bait Shop Blue

  All I Ever Wanted

  I Wish You Love, a Spicy Romance Anthology

  Make Me Behave (An Anthology) with Tara Fox Hall

  Historical Romance

  The MacAulay Bride

  A Little Holiday Magic, a Holiday Anthology

  Featured in the following anthologies:

  Romance and Mystery Under the Northern Lights

  Western Ways

  Writing erotica as Natasha Perry

  Ruined Hearts

  Don’t miss

  The MacAulay Bride

  In 1888, widowed Brianna MacAulay is an independent woman struggling to support her two sons. She turns her home into a boarding house, believing this will preserve her from accepting another unhappy marriage proposal. But her late husband's brother, Harrison MacAulay, has lusted after Brianna for years.

  Now that his brother is dead, Harrison is determined to win and wed her. He journeys from Scotland to America to coerce her to move to his home in Edinburgh. She soon learns her sons are under his guardianship, a stipulation in her husband's will, and she has no choice but to move to Scotland.

  Sexual sparks fly as their mutual attraction deepens, but just when Brianna is beginning to trust him, Harrison makes a critical mistake. Brianna tries to escape but Harrison holds her captive. He soon learns that love, not dominance, will win her heart.

  Available where ebooks are sold.

  Prologue

  June 1, 1888

  Winterhaven Manor, Edinburgh, Scotland

  “My God, Raleigh,” Harrison MacAulay said, “I feel as though I've just awakened from a bad dream, and none of what you have told me is true. Och! You are saying I must produce an heir or lose my home?”

  “That's precisely what I'm saying,” his solicitor replied. “It's right here, in your father's will, which he drafted when he was healthy and of sound mind, in case you have doubts.”

  Raleigh McKenna smoothed the parchment on the desk and read the old laird's words aloud. “My elder son, Harrison James McKenna, shall produce an heir by his thirty-first birthday. Otherwise, the MacAulay estates, including the ancestral home, Winterhaven Manor, shall accede to my second son, Payton Edward.”

  Harrison paced the green and gold Aubusson carpet, from one end of the walnut-paneled library to the other, a scowl firmly planted on his face. After a while, he paused and leveled his gaze on Raleigh. “Must I abide by this?”

  Raleigh folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “If you expect to keep possession of your home and wealth.”

  “What in the world was the old man thinking, other than the fact he held a deep obsession at the prospect of becoming a grandfather?” Harrison raged. “Did you know Payton had contacted Father from America years ago and told him about his own two sons? Payton wrote to me and said he never received an acknowledgement from Father.”

  “You're not surprised by the lack of response from your father, are you? Your brother fought a duel, killed a man and left the country, never to be seen again. Not to mention leaving the family name tarnished.”

  “Not surprised at all. I was the one who took the brunt of my father's fury with Payton's leaving.” Harrison would never forget that fateful day ten years ago. Payton had killed the husband of his latest mistress. In order to avoid repercussions from the law, and to save his own life, he was forced to flee Scotland.

  “You do earn a decent living from your work as a physician. Would it be devastating to give up the home and lands to your brother?”

  Harrison shrugged. “Not at all. I spend more time at my townhouse in Edinburgh than at Winterhaven, anyway, since my clinic is nearby. But have you any doubt that Payton would run the place into the ground?”

  “I see your point.” Raleigh grimaced. “That younger brother of yours has been undeniably irresponsible at times.”

  Harrison snorted in disgust. “And what about all the cousins who reside here? I took on the responsibility of supporting and raising the young ones when their families couldn't, not to mention my duty caring for our tenant families. Payton wasn't raised for the job. So, it appears I must marry, hmm?”

  A frown creased Raleigh's forehead as he perused the document. “Don't see marriage mentioned at all.”

  That gave Harrison pause. “But would my heir be legal if I weren't married?”

  “Of course! This is Scotland, man, not England!” Harrison’s lips twitched at the irritable look on his solicitor’s face as he continued, Hell, you could run off in an instant to Gretna Green and handfast, instead, for the required year and a day, then end the relationship.”

  Harrison scoffed, “Handfasting is an old tradition, but hardly legal.”

  “Yes, ‘tis legal. Scotland’s laws still recognize the tradition.”

  “If my handfasted wife provided me with an heir, would I be obligated to remain with her—to marry her officially after the fact?”

  “No, not at all, which is likely why so many men have encouraged their lovers over the years to handfast instead of marry, I would imagine. Have you anyone particular in mind?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Connie MacPhearson?” he suggested.

  Harrison heard the stiff tone in Raleigh's voice as he sank into a chair across from his friend. “Not even remotely.”

  Raleigh growled, “Och, are ye saying she's not good enough for ye?”

  “Hell, no, certainly not,” Harrison said, laughter in his voice. “Watch it, Englishman. You're starting to sound like a Scot. She would not have me because she's in love with you.”

  Sputtering, Raleigh jumped from his chair. “Now, see here... that is preposterous!”

  “A moment ago you were ready to blow my head off at my response,” Harrison drawled. “Thank God you hadn't a gun in your hand. When are you going to admit you're in love with the woman? You must know she's in love with you. The two of you are too stubborn for your own good, do you know that?”

  “Enough,” Raleigh snapped. “As your solicitor, I advise you to find a woman. Quickly. In eighteen months, you will be thirty-one. I'm leaving now. Do you require anything else?”

  “No.” Harrison rose and followed Raleigh to the door. “My thanks,” he said, shaking his friend's hand. “I'll be making my decision soon.”

  After Raleigh left, Harrison stared out a long, narrow window, his hands folded behind his back. He watched his solicitor and long-time friend mount his horse and gallop away, all the while contemplating his choice of available womanhood.

  Other than one particular woman who was always on his mind, none was appropriate. Brianna MacAulay was the only woman he'd thought about on a daily basis for the past ten years. The only woman he’d ever truly wanted yet had never met her—from the moment he’d seen her in the wedding picture Payton had sent to him.

  It was truly unfortunate she was his brother's wife.

  Chapter One

  November 1888

  Stillwater, Minnesota

  Brianna MacAulay stood inside the train depot for the third afternoon in a row, watching passengers disembark from the last train of the day. She peered at the people swarming through the doorway, worried that some mishap might have befallen her husband's brother since she found no sign of the man.

  There was nothing she could do now but go home and hope he would arrive tomorrow. She presumed it would then be a simple matter for him to settle her late husband's will. She frowned as she thought about the money she hadn't been allowed to withdraw from Payton's bank account. It was hers! She needed that money—every single penny—in order to furnish two more bedchambers in her home by spring. More lu
mberjacks would be arriving to work for the town's sawmills by then, and they would be in need of a place to stay.

  Squaring her shoulders and hitching up her black taffeta skirt and petticoats, she walked toward the door and opened it. Huge drops of cold autumn rain splashed against her face and she squinted against the onslaught. For the little good it did, she held the umbrella over her head, bracing herself against the wind and rain. She sighed, wishing it were snow instead of rain. Snow wouldn't ruin the hat she wore. It was her favorite, with a bird's nest perched on top, its cloth occupant having long since flown away.

  She dodged puddles on the deserted boardwalk before gingerly stepping into the muddy street, then rushed to her wagon. Upon reaching it, she held the umbrella in one hand as she placed a foot upon the running board, ready to board, when she heard a deep masculine voice shouting.

  “Madam! A moment, please.”

  A big man wearing a top hat approached her. She lowered her foot and the umbrella just as he arrived at her side. He swept his cloak off his shoulders, held an edge of it high above her head, gallantly shielding her from the rain.

  “I must speak with you,” he said in a deep, accented voice.

  As she peered up at him, she thought him familiar, but could not place him.

  He took her elbow and nodded at Francis Marshall's Dry Goods. “Let us find protection.”

  Before she could dig in her heels, he fairly propelled her across the street, where they ducked beneath Marshall's dark green and white striped awning. Lord knew she should never have gone willingly with this stranger, yet she could not help but wonder why he had approached her. She tilted her head back to meet his eyes, but discovered them concealed behind a pair of rain-spattered, wire-rimmed spectacles.