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Give Me A Texas Outlaw Bundle with Give Me A Cowboy

Page 2

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda


  “But I’m not your husband. How’s he going to feel when he shows up and finds his wife married to me?”

  “He won’t show up. I made him up and the land won’t really be yours—you’ll just hold on to it for a while, then pass it back to me.”

  The stranger looked confused. “Why?” he asked as if he really didn’t want to know the answer.

  She glared at him. “Because I may be pregnant.” It was the first honest thing she’d said in so long, and it felt good.

  “How did that happen? Imaginary men don’t get women pregnant.” He met her stare, and she swore she saw a bit of a blush flash across the outlaw’s face in the candlelight. “Never mind,” he corrected. “I don’t want to know.”

  She rushed on, not wanting to remember, much less explain. “I have to marry or lose everything. If you won’t kill me, marry me.”

  “Great plan. What would keep your uncle from just shooting me a minute after the ceremony?”

  “The minute we’re married, as my husband, you own the land. If you die, it’s mine. The ranch hands will stand with whoever is the rightful owner. Some of them don’t agree with the way my uncle has been taking over since my father’s been sick, but they’re afraid to cross him, knowing he could be their boss soon. If they know the ranch will pass to you, they’d stand with you.”

  A grin lifted one side of his mouth and she thought he looked almost handsome. “What’s to keep you from killing me?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. Marry me and stay with me until my uncle goes back to his place at that gambling hole he calls his town, and then I’ll let you take that wagonload of wedding loot out of here.” She hesitated, then added, “But if you don’t leave when I tell you to, I will shoot you, myself.”

  “How long do I have to stay?”

  “Not long. A few days. A week at the most. Just until the guests leave,” she lied. “My uncle will suspect a trick. I’ll need time to make sure I’m protected. But, while you are here, acting like my husband, you’ll have to play the role.”

  “What about my uncles?”

  “If I save them from the rope, will you consider my proposal?”

  “Why trust me, lady?”

  “You’re a thief, I’m a liar. Seems a good match.” She thought she saw a bit of hurt flash in his eyes as if she’d insulted him.

  When he looked back at her, his blue eyes had turned hard as gray, cold steel. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said as if she’d just chosen an impossible task. “Get my uncles freed and I’ll play your game. I’ll marry you and stay here until the ranch passes to me, and then I’ll leave it to you.”

  “Stay here,” she whispered as if afraid to hope. “I’ll be right back.”

  Before he could say a word, she rushed to the tiny side door of the chapel with her wedding dress flowing like a huge white cloud behind her. She tapped twice and a priest opened the door. Then she vanished.

  Chapter 2

  Michael Hughes walked to the window and stared out into the chilly winter night. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and the craziest. The woman made snakes look predictable. He had no hope of her managing to free his three dumb uncles. After all, she was a prisoner herself from all he could tell.

  If he had any sense, he’d run. Michael laughed. If he’d had any sense he never would have come back to the Big Ben country. He’d been twelve when his uncles talked him into playing lookout for one of their schemes. They’d failed at robbing a bank and he’d been the only one who got caught. Without parents, Michael had had no one to stand with him before the judge. He’d been sentenced to six years of hard labor.

  The first few months had been hell. Then the warden’s wife, Mrs. Peters, noticed him and demanded he be assigned to help her. She was six feet tall and as hard as nails, but she was a Quaker on a mission. She ran a school that forced education on every child she managed to catch and draw into her one-room school.

  Michael cleaned the schoolroom, built the fires, and stayed with her all day doing whatever chore she yelled for him to do. At night he helped the cook wash up after supper before a guard came to put his chains back on and take him to the huge bay where prisoners slept. When it got warm enough that first spring, he took off his ragged coat to chop wood. Mrs. Peters noticed bruises on his arms and knew he’d been mistreated at night in the cell block. She demanded he be allowed to sleep in the school, and she wasn’t a woman even the warden would cross.

  With regular meals and a place where he could sleep without fear, Michael began to grow. The animal he’d almost become calmed. In three years he’d read all the books she had and practiced math until he was faster than her with figures. Mrs. Peters never told him so, but he guessed she was proud of what she’d done. Every month she managed to find more books for him to read and she always insisted on calling him Michael, never Mickey or Mike, like his uncles had.

  When he was released at eighteen, she gave him the only clothes he’d ever had that weren’t hand-me-downs and said she saw great things in his future.

  Mrs. Peters told him many times that he was a child never to be loved, but he could manage to be useful if he worked hard. Only, in the two years since he’d seen her, he hadn’t managed to be that to anyone. If this crazy bride needed him, he’d do what he could, if for no other reason than to prove Mrs. Peters right.

  The Quaker had been wrong about the great things in his future. With men drifting into Texas looking for work by the hundreds, there were no jobs, and even if there had been, no one wanted to hire an ex-con. Michael’s years in prison left him unskilled for most manual jobs and the few he got drove him insane with boredom. Finally, he drifted back to the only family he’d ever known. His three uncles.

  The three hadn’t changed much, but Michael had. He saw them for what they were, bumbling idiots who loved him simply because he was kin to them.

  Uncle Abe couldn’t count past seven but liked to cook any meat the others shot or stole.

  Uncle Moses followed what he called his laws and believed everything bad that happened in his life was somehow caused by him not adhering to his rules. Of course, the laws included reversing his socks every morning so they’d never wear out and eating all his meals with the same spoon.

  Uncle Joseph was the true thief in the family. He stole everything he found not tied down. He even stole from his brothers. They’d long ago given up on trying to talk him out of his habit and now just looked for whatever was missing among his things.

  Michael thought he could keep them out of trouble. In the months he’d been back he’d made them clean their shack and clear the plot behind the house for a garden. Then, they convinced him to come along on this one robbery. The people were so rich, they wouldn’t notice a few things missing.

  Michael’s plan was to ride along in case they got in over their heads. He’d thought to hide away in the church for an hour while they wandered around the sleeping ranch collecting all they could carry. Once they made it off the ranch, the uncles would fall asleep and he’d take back their loot.

  Even his robbery of the bride had been only a trick. He knew he wouldn’t leave with the jewelry. He’d thought she heard him enter and was about to scream when she leaned against the window.

  Great job he’d done, Michael thought. Unless he could think of something before the crazy bride got back, he’d be swinging with them from the nearest tree come dawn. She was probably running for help now and laughing that he’d agreed to wait.

  The bride, he thought. She was the most beautiful little thing he’d ever seen, and when he’d touched her neck, he knew he’d never touch anything that soft again. But she had to be nuts if she thought her imaginary husband could have gotten her pregnant.

  “Psst,” a sound brought him back from his worrying. “Psst, Mr. Outlaw.”

  She was back. The nutty princess in white.

  “The priest has gone to get your uncles. I told him how we were in love and of course in a family way. I said you want
ed to marry me but you had to have your family present. Father Timothy also agreed not to wake my father.”

  Michael stared at her, wondering if he’d ever be able to tell if she was lying or telling the truth.

  “The priest agreed to tell whoever is guarding your uncles that they were here for a secret wedding. Once he’s got them in his chambers, he’ll marry us.”

  “What about your uncle? He might want to stand in for your father.”

  She moved out of the shadows and he saw her shy smile. “I told Father Timothy I was embarrassed because of the pregnancy and our hurried wedding without the blessing of the church. I said I preferred to marry now before as few people as possible. He went along with the idea, assuring me that my uncle only wanted me to do what was right and marrying the man I’ve already bedded would be wise.”

  Michael watched her closely. “The truth never crosses your shadow, does it?”

  “Not often. My mother used to say life is far more interesting when looked at from a different angle.”

  “Well if we do this I’d like your word that you’ll play no games with me. No lies between us from here on out. We’ll be honest with each other for the few days the marriage lasts.”

  “Outlaw honor?”

  Michael guessed she’d already figured out he wasn’t much of an outlaw. “Outlaw honor.”

  “Fair enough. We have a deal then?”

  “We have a deal.”

  The priest opened the door and whispered, “Miss Cozette, are you ready? I have the three witnesses.”

  Michael reached and took her hand. He didn’t miss her slight jerk of panic, before she calmed and let him pull her toward the door. “Come along, dear,” he said, realizing he’d never used the endearment before. “It’s time we married.”

  “Yes . . .” she whispered.

  “Michael,” he filled in the blank, guessing, like Mrs. Peters, his short-time wife would call him by his real name.

  “Yes, Michael,” she confirmed.

  They followed the priest into a small room already full of his chubby uncles. The three looked a little the worse for wear and frightened. Uncle Abe wiped his bloody nose with his sleeve. Uncle Moses was shaking his head as if he could wish himself back home. Uncle Joseph ran his fingers over a brass cross as if judging its size before he tried pocketing it.

  Michael felt sorry for them. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “There’s not going to be a hanging. I’m getting married and everything will be fine.”

  Uncle Joseph wrinkled up his face. “You stealing a bride? That ain’t right, Mickey boy. It just ain’t right.”

  Michael laughed. He’d finally found something Joseph wouldn’t steal.

  Chapter 3

  “Do you wish to marry this woman of your own free will?” the priest asked.

  Michael hesitated, knowing that if they went through with this ceremony, at least one man, her uncle, would want him dead.

  The priest huffed with impatience. “Sir, you have already touched this woman?”

  “Yes.” Michael couldn’t lie there. He could still feel the softness of her skin on his fingers. He had touched her, if not in the way the priest was hinting.

  “Then in the eyes of the church you are already married.”

  Michael felt like he was whirling in a storm. Cozette stood close, holding his arm as if she needed support. His Uncle Moses started crying and mumbling something about never seeing a wedding up close. The priest glared at him as if he were dirt-rolled evil, which only made Moses cry harder.

  All in all, the wedding was worse than first light after a three-day drunk.

  They both said what the priest told them to say and did everything he told them to do. When he finished, he looked at Michael and said simply, “You may kiss your bride.”

  Michael stared down at her and realized she looked as miserable as he felt. Somehow he found that one fact calming. Touching her chin lightly with his fingertips, he tilted her head and brushed her lips with his own.

  She tasted newborn and fresh, nothing like the few saloon girls he’d kissed.

  Her lip quivered slightly and he knew this lady might have known a man, but she’d never been loved. She’d never been kissed with tenderness. Deep down, he understood something she might never tell him.

  “It’s going to be all right, Cozette,” he whispered to her. It was the first time he’d said her name and he wished he could believe his own words. “We’ll get through this and you will be safe. I swear it.”

  Her eyes rounded and part of the fear he’d seen there vanished. To his surprise, she believed him.

  This time she took his hand and asked, “Will you go with me to my father’s bedside? I’d like him to meet you when he wakes.”

  Michael nodded once and opened the mission door for her. They stepped out into a crowd of men, all with guns raised at him.

  The priest hurried out. “Do not worry!” he shouted. “All is well. They are married. This is the man our Cozette picked as her mate.”

  For a moment, Michael feared those would be the last words he’d hear on earth. None of the cowhands looked like they’d be bothered if his new bride ordered him shot.

  Then, surprisingly, the cowboys lowered their weapons and stepped forward to shake his hand.

  Cozette’s laughter came too loud to sound real. “I know everyone expected us to wait until morning, but I wanted my father to meet Michael as my husband.” She waved her hand across the crowd. “I know my uncle plans a wedding breakfast and I’d like you all to wash up and join us at first light.”

  The wranglers gave a hoot and started toward the bunkhouse.

  Michael noticed his three uncles slowly backing into the shadows. “That means you three also.” His words froze them in midflight. You’ll be joining us for breakfast and you’ll behave yourselves.”

  “There’s a well behind the house where you can clean up if you like,” Cozette added without venturing any closer to the three outlaws. “I’ll have towels and soap set out.”

  “W-what’s going on here?” Uncle Joseph stuttered out his demand. “This don’t seem right. W-we ain’t never been invited to w-wash or eat nowhere in our lives.”

  “It’s right.” Michael knew he couldn’t trust them with the details of the marriage. A few drinks and all three would be telling everything they knew about how their nephew found a bride in the middle of a robbery.

  While they watched, he kissed Cozette’s cheek and motioned for her to go ahead into the front door of the big house. “I’ll be with you in a moment, dear.”

  She glanced at the uncles and broke into a run. Michael had no idea if she feared them or simply got downwind of them.

  Once she was out of sight, he turned to his kin. “I need you all. I can only trust family in this matter of life and death.”

  “W-what can w-we do, get horses, find guns?” Joseph asked. “I’ll steal a few. It was just pure luck they caught us the first time. W-we can grab a few bags and be long gone before they notice.”

  “No.” Michael shook his head. Flight seemed always their first thought. “I need the three of you to stay close and keep your eyes open. There are men here who didn’t want us to marry. They might mean my new bride harm. I don’t want them getting close to Cozette.”

  “Who’s Cozette?” Abe asked.

  Michael fought the urge to thump him hard. “My new wife, remember, the woman I just married. The one who told you to wash.”

  “Oh,” he said. “The one in white. I remember now. You called her dear. I never knew you had a dear one, Mickey boy.”

  “Yes, and we’ve got to protect her”—Michael stared at them—“with your lives if necessary.”

  They looked at one another as if he were speaking a language they didn’t quite understand. “We’re bodyguards?” Moses whispered.

  “Yeah, you’ve been promoted from outlaws.” Michael hated to admit it but he did need them. He had no idea what he was stepping into, but it had to be bad i
f she was willing to die to get away. It offered him no comfort that he was her second choice tonight.

  “Now there are three rules you’ve got to remember. Listen close. One, no drinking. Two, no stealing. You can eat all you want, but rule number three is that one of you is to be armed and standing near my dear wife at all times. I don’t want anyone, and I mean anyone, laying a hand on her. She’s in danger.”

  Abe scratched his bald head. “Mind my asking where you got this pretty little wife? You never mentioned her.”

  Michael said the first thing that came to mind. “We met in church. I didn’t know she cared about me, but when she mentioned marriage, I thought it was a good idea.”

  They all nodded as if he’d explained. Michael had the feeling if any woman had ever mentioned marriage to any one of them she would have been forced to take all three. They came as a set.

  “Now, clean up and wait for me inside.” He smiled as they hurried around the house, heads down. The food might sound good, but washing had always been treated like a disease.

  Michael didn’t know what he expected to see when he walked into the main house on the ranch, but a mansion wasn’t it. The place shone grander than the hotels he’d seen in Fort Worth and Austin. It had a long staircase and candles everywhere on tall gold candlesticks.

  He straightened, feeling out of place. No way did he belong here. How could he hope to pull this off? He knew nothing about ranching and even less about women.

  Cozette waited at the bottom of the stairs talking to an old woman who looked like she might be the housekeeper. He just stood watching Cozette and wondering how he could even be allowed on the same planet with such a creature.

  When she noticed him, she moved away from the old woman and walked toward him, her hand out.

  “We need to see my father, but the doctor is with him now.” Her fingers closed around his. “Maybe we can talk while we wait.”

 

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