When he rubbed his chin against her cheek, he felt her tears and pulled away enough to meet her gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t think it could be like this. I didn’t expect it . . .”
He understood and pulled her close. Both their towels were forgotten as they moved to her bed and he pulled the covers back. She lay down and waited, looking unsure.
“I promise I won’t hurt you, but if you’ll let me, I want to make love to you.”
She didn’t answer. This time he didn’t pull away. He saw all he needed to see in her warm eyes as her soft hands trailed along his body and she tugged him closer.
He kissed his way down her until he came to the slight rise at her middle. “I love you,” he whispered, “and I’d love this baby growing inside you if you’d let me. I want it to be my baby. After tonight. After we’ve made love. There will be no other past but me and tonight.”
He hadn’t planned the words. He wasn’t sure if he’d said them aloud or not, but when he kissed her where the baby grew, her hands moved into his hair and held him to her.
The storm rattled outside as they made love slow and easy. She was shy and he was uncertain, but passion washed over them smoothing everything into mindless perfection. They floated in the warmth of each other unaware that time existed. For two young lovers there was no past or future, only this moment.
When he held her to him afterward, he kissed away her tears. She hadn’t said a word and he wasn’t experienced enough with women to know whether her tears were tears of joy.
He just held her close and whispered his love for her, wondering if there was any chance she’d believe him . . . wishing he had a lifetime ahead to tell her how he felt. But tonight, this time, this place, would have to be his lifetime. All before, all after, didn’t matter.
When Cozette was sound asleep, Michael slipped from her bed and dressed, already missing her before he left her room. He had a meeting in the chapel tonight, and then he’d be back to wake her.
Tonight, he’d know the truth about Raymond. He’d know how to keep her safe.
He walked from her room and put his boots on in the hallway. They were a perfect fit. Within a few minutes he let himself into the chapel.
Smith and the tall man named Phil were waiting for him. They both looked tired and wore dusters soaked in rain.
“What news do you have?” he asked, in a hurry to be done with the meeting and get back to Cozette.
“A farmer north of here found Fiddler’s body two days ago. The farmer didn’t recognize him, being most of his face was shot off, so he took the body into town.”
Phil stopped talking and his partner continued, “Sheriff said he knew at once who it was. Said he’d noticed the ink stains on Fiddler’s hands once. The sheriff also noticed once that the bookkeeper had the longest fingers—piano hands he called them—with ink spotting heavy across his knuckles.”
“Any idea who killed him?” Michael asked.
“No. He’d been dead for a while. Folks claimed they could smell him an acre away. Sheriff had him buried.”
Michael thanked the men. They talked as they walked back to the house. Both were convinced Raymond had something to do with the killing, but with a body already in the ground and any clues washed away by the rain, they weren’t likely to prove it.
Michael noticed the study’s lamps were lit, burning low, when he walked into the house. He remembered blowing them both out just before he hid the ranch records under the bed. Caution set his nerves on edge as he walked into the study.
Cozette sat very still in the chair behind the desk. Her hair was down and wild around the heavy robe she wore. When she looked up at him, he saw terror in her eyes.
He took two steps toward her before he realized someone was standing behind the door waiting. He’d stepped into a trap.
“Come on in,” Raymond said from behind him. “Your bride and I have been waiting for you to come back.”
Michael faced the gun as he backed toward the windows and away from his wife.
“I know you two thought you could get away with this trick you played on my brother, but I’ve finally decided to put a stop to it.” He moved to the center of the room so he could keep an eye on both of them. “So, the only question is, which one should I kill first? With this storm no one will even notice the shots.”
“Kill me!” Michael shouted with enough anger to rattle the windows. “Because if you don’t, I swear I’ll kill you if you harm her.”
Raymond must have found his power over them amusing. “Oh, so you’ve fallen in love with the family tramp. Did she tell you she’s already been with a man and she’s barely out of school?”
Cozette let out a yelp and Raymond turned his gun on her.
He smiled. “I’ve even heard the house rumor that you’re with child. What would your father say? He’d shoot you himself rather than let you disgrace this family.”
“It’s my child!” Michael shouted. “And she’s my wife. She’s had no other lover but me.”
Raymond pointed the gun at him. “Then you are a bigger fool than I, for she’s tricked you. I’ve had enough of you both. It’s time to—”
Something short and round barreled into Raymond like a freight train, knocking him off his feet.
The gun fired, clipping Michael in the shoulder as three men jumped on Raymond like hungry dogs on a fat rabbit.
Pain shot through Michael’s body as he watched his wife scream and rush toward him. He could hear his uncles pounding away on Raymond but nothing seemed real. All seemed part of a dream, even Cozette.
Then, all went quiet in his world. All went black and he circled in midnight water until he could see or hear nothing, not even his own heartbeat.
When he awoke, he was spread out on one of the couches along the wall and the doctor was smiling down at him.
“’Bout time you decided to wake up and join us. You’re a lucky man, son. The bullet hit only muscle and I dug it out without much trouble.”
Michael sat up slowly and looked around. “Where’s my wife?”
“She’ll be back in a minute. I made her go get dressed if she was going to insist on sitting with you. She told me she was in a family way and planned to stay close to you.”
“Raymond?” Michael asked.
“He’s on his way to town. Sheriff said he’ll have charges filed in the morning for attempted murder of you and the murder of a man named Fiddler. Seems Fiddler told my nurse one afternoon while she was with the old man and Fiddler was doing the records that if he ever showed up dead they should look in the books for the murderer. Your wife showed us where her uncle had been stealing for months. We may never know if Fiddler was part of the theft and just got scared or if he found out the truth and confronted Raymond. Don’t guess it matters much, he’s dead either way.”
Michael’s head pounded. It was over. Cozette was safe. She’d never be bothered again. He leaned back and rested until he heard her come in with his three uncles right behind her.
“How is he?” she asked the doctor as if Michael weren’t staring right at her.
“He’s fine. A good night’s rest and he can be back in the saddle tomorrow.” The doctor began packing up his bag.
“I’ll be heading out tomorrow,” Michael said. He’d keep his promise to her.
To his surprise anger flashed in her eyes and she stood. “You’re not walking out on me and the baby.”
All three uncles said, “Baby?” at the same time.
She nodded toward them. “That’s right. The doctor just confirmed I’m pregnant. Right?”
“Right,” the doctor mumbled, obviously trying to stay out of the argument.
Cozette stared down at Michael. “Am I or am I not your wife?”
“I’m not deaf, dear. Of course you’re my wife.”
“And is this your baby growing inside me?”
He stared at her remembering his wish. Remembering how he told her there was no time
, no one before him. “It’s my baby.”
“Then, Michael, you are not going anywhere.” She whirled to the doctor. “You might not want to leave yet. I may have to shoot him in the leg to convince him to stay.”
To his surprise the uncles looked like they were on her side. They all stood behind her, their knuckles white and ready to beat him to a pulp.
“It ain’t right,” Uncle Moses said. “Getting her pregnant and talking of leaving. It ain’t right, Mickey.”
Cozette pulled a pistol from behind one of the pillows. “I may be a widow, but I don’t plan on being left.”
She pointed the gun at him and all three uncles folded their arms and waited.
“Don’t shoot.” He smiled. “I’ll stay, dear.”
“How long?” she asked without lowering the gun.
“Forever if you’ll say you love me.”
She grinned. “Then I won’t shoot you, because I do love you.”
All three uncles nodded as if they understood what was going on. The doctor shook his head, totally lost.
Michael raised an eyebrow, wondering if he’d ever be able to tell if she was telling the truth. He guessed he’d just have to stay about forty or fifty years and find out.
He might not be much of an outlaw but somehow he’d managed to steal the lady’s love.
Holding his side, he stood. “I think it’s time we said good night, dear.”
She smiled and moved beneath his arm as if they were now an old, settled married couple.
He pulled her close, knowing that in the future he’d be whatever she wanted him to be, but he’d be beside her.
Once the couple was halfway up the stairs, Uncle Abe shouted, “Mickey! How long you figure we’re staying?”
He glanced down at the three men who’d done their best to raise him.
“Forever,” he said.
“Forever,” she whispered beside him.
TROUBLE IN PETTICOATS
LINDA BRODAY
Chapter 1
South Texas, 1878
From the back, the man standing in her father’s study was extraordinary, with a broad back that tapered to a narrow waist and muscular thighs that drew his black trousers taut across a well-shaped behind.
Her pulse quickened in response.
Suddenly, as if sensing her presence, he whirled.
Larissa Patrick sucked in a quick gasp.
From the front, he was a mixture of undeniable danger and charm. In that instant she realized why a moth flew into a flame even though the fire would kill it. It was captivated by the light and nothing else mattered. Looking at the stranger, she knew such an attraction.
His forceful stance combined with the dangerous aura about him set her heart racing. Hair the color of darkest midnight brushed his collar. Deep lines that seemed carved into the tanned rugged features with some kind of sculpting tool spoke of a life lived outdoors.
So did the worn dusty boots on his feet.
Following the man’s long lean lines, her gaze moved to the lethal Colt he wore on his hip. The leather of the holster appeared as supple as melted butter. Only something that received a lot of use could look so worn and pliable. Her gaze slid to the thin leather strap that secured the holster to his leg.
No lawyer she’d ever seen wore a tied-down, low-slung Colt.
All the lawyers she’d known had been doddering men well past their prime.
Doddering definitely didn’t describe the man before her; not by a long shot.
Despite her father’s explanation for the visitor, she didn’t believe for one second that he was there to impart legal advice.
Everything about this stranger shouted that he lived on the wrong side of the law.
And that he preferred it that way.
She was as positive as anything that he’d never seen the inside of a law office . . . except maybe to employ a solicitor. Furthermore, the mocking smile and amusement in his startling blue gaze said he knew she knew it and dared her to comment.
The flutters in her stomach intensified under that crystal blue gaze as cool and deep and mysterious as a fathomless pool.
Her father had insisted she make the man known as Johnny Diamond welcome on the Four Spades Ranch.
The instructions had been explicit. She was to make sure the supposed lawyer had full access to every part of the house, barns, and grounds and not question any request.
Why? Her brain scrambled for answers.
Able to finally break free from the handsome visitor’s stare, she turned her attention to her father, who was seated behind his desk with his hands steepled in front of him. Dunston Patrick was hiding something. And she meant to find out what he kept from her. As soon as she could get a word with him she’d demand to know where Beth had gone. She’d looked the ranch over and could find no trace of her younger sister anywhere.
“There you are, Larissa,” her father said. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Johnny Diamond. Mr. Diamond, my eldest daughter.”
“My pleasure, ma’am.” Their guest covered the space between them and instantly dwarfed Larissa, all five feet two inches of her. He shifted the worn felt hat he held and offered his hand. “They sure grow ’em mighty pretty here in Texas.”
The quiet, deep timbre of his voice scraped along her nerve endings. Larissa accepted his handshake, admiring the firm grip. One other thing was wrong—the calluses on his palms. Men who made their living reading books and interpreting the law had smoother skin. At least the few she knew did.
Last but not least, there was the matter of his name. It seemed one a man two steps in front of the law might own. Unless she missed her guess, it was as made up as his occupation.
What did he really do? And what business did he truly have with her father?
The whole day had been one puzzle after another.
“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Diamond.” She tucked her hand in the folds of her dress when he released it. “Welcome to the Four Spades. Will you be staying long?”
“Afraid not.” His glance shifted to her father. “I’ll ride out after our . . . business . . . is done.”
“Could I offer you some coffee or tea, perhaps?”
“No, thank you.”
Dunston Patrick swiveled in the chair behind his desk and waved her away. “Now run along. We have work to do.”
That she’d been so brusquely dismissed chafed something raw inside her. Though she’d long known that her father viewed her and her sisters with cold disregard, it stung that he’d do so in front of a stranger. Even an outlaw one.
Larissa turned toward the door and hesitated.
“What do you want now?” Dunston had picked up the four of spades from a deck of cards and flipped it over and over on his desk. Larissa had long grown accustomed to seeing that particular card. It was never far from her father’s reach.
Though she’d fully intended to wait until they had a private moment, she found she really couldn’t. This was too urgent and her father might not be free for hours.
Her teeth captured her bottom lip. “I’ve looked everywhere and Beth seems to have vanished. I can’t shake this feeling that something horrible has happened.”
Her father’s ruddy cheeks paled. He ran his fingers through a thick shock of white hair before he blustered, “Your sister is perfectly fine. She pestered until I gave in and let her go spend some time with your sister Charlotte. You know how impatient she’s been to see Charlotte’s new baby again.”
On the surface that made sense. But it didn’t convince her. Larissa had checked Beth’s room and all of her clothes and belongings were there. Besides, a ten-year-old wouldn’t go anywhere by herself. Charlotte lived a day’s ride from them. That meant Beth would stay overnight at the very least. And even if she had forgotten to take a nightgown and some dresses, Beth most definitely wouldn’t have left behind the baby quilt she’d stitched for little Matthew. Beth had been so proud of her handiwork and couldn’t wait to give it to the new babe.
Larissa’s stomach lurched painfully. What was her father keeping from her? She straightened her spine and raised her chin. “How did she get there and why wasn’t I told?”
“As usual, when there’s a decision to be made you were off riding Arabella before breakfast. I had Jonas take her.”
That explained why she’d not seen Jonas Flynn, their ranch foreman, today.
But it was odd that her father hadn’t said anything last evening. Surely he’d known then. She might’ve wanted to accompany Beth. Larissa hadn’t seen Charlotte since Matthew’s birth two months ago when Larissa and Beth had both gone to help their sister out during her lying-in. This pregnancy had been extremely difficult for Charlotte.
“Wasn’t this decision rather sudden, Papa? Neither you nor Beth breathed a word of these plans to me.” Besides she’d raised Beth almost single-handedly after their mother died giving birth to the girl. Dunston Patrick had shown Beth little affection or interest, whereas Larissa knew her baby sister inside and out.
All these facts frightened her more than she’d been since the night her mother died.
“I do as I think best.” Her father’s sharp tone let her know he didn’t have to explain his actions to her. “Leave us be now and close the door behind you.”
Her eyes met Johnny Diamond’s before she exited the room. She caught the slight nod of his head. She detected a mea-sure of sympathy, which seemed odd coming from a total stranger who wore a Colt that advertised his disregard for the law.
Larissa made up her mind that it was time she got some answers by whatever method she had to do it. She hurried from the house and around to the open window of her father’s study. Bending low, she crept forward.
“I don’t come cheap, Mr. Patrick.” She recognized Johnny Diamond’s deep voice.
“Don’t mind paying for results,” Dunston shot back.
“Why me, if you don’t mind me asking? I’m curious why you didn’t send for the U.S. Marshal.”
The hair at the nape of Larissa’s neck rose at mention of the lawman. That confirmed Diamond’s appearance didn’t have anything to do with law work. She leaned closer.
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