"You're tired, too, honey. Go on up and get ready for bed. I'll come up later and tuck you in."
Andy slid down from his chair. He planted a wet kiss on Lacey's mouth, then run over to Sam. "Put your head down a minute, Sam," he said shyly.
Lacey groaned when she became aware of Andy's intention and tried to head it off. "Don't bother Sam, honey."
But Sam had already lowered his head. Lacey could tell by his puzzled look that he had no idea what Andy intended. He appeared startled when Andy stood on his toes and placed a smacking kiss on his cheek.
"G'night, Sam. I'm glad Mama invited you to supper. It's better than when mean old Cramer eats with us. He always tells me to mind my manners."
"I think your manners are just fine, Andy. Good night."
Andy skipped from the room.
"Thank you for not saying anything to hurt Andy," Lacey said grudgingly.
"I'm no monster, Lacey. Andy has nothing to do with you and me. He's caught in the middle. He dislikes your Taylor Cramer, you know."
"I know, but he's only a child. He'd dislike anyone he thought was stealing his mama."
"He doesn't appear to dislike me."
"He thinks of you as a ranch hand. Andy befriends all the hands. Ask anyone. He has no reason to be jealous of you."
"I think you're wrong, Lacey. But Andy isn't my responsibility, is he? I have no reason to see to his happiness. Fortunately for Andy, I have no intention of divorcing you, so the lad doesn't have to worry about Taylor now, does he?"
Lacey had just about all she could take from Sam. In six years Sam had gone from a sweet young man to an arrogant tyrant. She rose with as much dignity as she could muster and slapped her napkin down on the table. "It's time..."
"Would you like coffee in the parlor, Senora?"
Rita stood in the doorway, an expectant look on her round face.
"No, I..."
"Coffee sounds wonderful," Sam interjected before Lacey could finish her reply. "The parlor is fine."
"How dare you!" Lacey hissed once Rita left. "This is my home."
"And I'm your husband," Sam drawled, grasping Lacey's elbow and drawing her into the parlor.
He stopped before the sofa, but instead of letting her sit, he gripped her upper arm with his other hand and drew her against him. A frisson of fear slid down Lacey's spine. He was staring into her eyes, his face so close she could feel his breath ripple across her cheek. She blinked, breaking contact, but when she opened her eyes again he was still staring at her.
"What! What is it?"
"You're beautiful," he murmured. "More beautiful than I remembered." His gaze lowered to her breasts. "I don't recall you being so well-endowed, either. The years have been kind to you."
"I was but seventeen when we married. Women do mature and change over the years. You've changed, too."
His gaze returned to her face. "How so?"
She hesitated a moment then said, "You're harder, colder, more in control of yourself. You've matured, too. Your body is..." Her words fell off, unable to force compliments papast her lips. And they would be compliments, for Sam's body was now a man's body. In youth he had been lean and lithe, now he was muscular and magnificent.
She turned her gaze away, but Sam would have none of it. He lifted her chin and lowered his head. A startled cry slipped past her throat when his lips touched hers. Oh, God, she couldn't stand this. Not again. Not when she'd learned to live without Sam. Allowing him to hurt her again would destroy her.
The first touch of his mouth was feather light, a mere whisper of sensation against her lips. Her breath caught. Then he deepened the kiss, sliding his mouth back and fourth against hers. The sweet, titillating friction tilted her world. What happened next totally undid her. Suddenly Sam's lips became hard, demanding, his tongue a dagger that probed ruthlessly into her mouth. Seeking, searching, as if starved for the taste of her.
She melted into the kiss, giving him what he sought, her mouth and body softening beneath his touch. Then she heard him groan and was abruptly jarred back to reality. Pushing against his chest, she broke away, staring at him in horror.
"Why are you doing this to me? You hate me."
"I wanted to see if you remembered how it once was between us, if the passion between us still existed."
Lacey scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. Her voice was bitter with resentment. "And what did you learn?"
Sam gave her a mocking smile. "I felt nothing. There's nothing between us. You killed the passion we once shared when you betrayed me."
Lacey stared at him, her eyes bright with tears she refused to shed.
One trembling word tumbled from her lips. "Liar."
Chapter Three
Sam's fierce frown betrayed his anger. His eyes narrowed into slits and a muscle twitched along the strong line of his jaw.
"I'm not a liar," he growled, pushing her away. "You killed the love I once felt for you. You're nothing to me."
"I'm glad!" Lacey said with equal venom. "The feeling is mutual."
Whirling on his heel, Sam slammed out of the house. He couldn't recall when he'd been so damn angry, except maybe for that day Lacey had betrayed him to the Yankees. Why in the hell did he have to kiss her? What exactly did he hope to gain?
He ran his tongue over his lips, tasting her essence on them. He could still feel her soft mouth moving beneath his, still feel her body melting into him. He shook the stirring memory from his head. What in the hell was wrong with him? By the war's end he'd been so sure he had banished Lacey from his mind and heart that he'd never mentioned her to his brothers. Fate must be conspiring against him, bringing Lacey into his life at the worst possible time.
What would Lacey say if she knew he was wanted by the law? Would she turn him in, hoping he'd hang so she could marry Cramer? Didn't she realize Andy would be miserable if she married Cramer? Did the ranch mean more to her than her own son's happiness?
The moment Sam entered the bunkhouse a hush fell over the room. He called out a greeting, ignoring the inquiring glances directed at him. Sam knew they were curious about his relationship with Lacey but he wasn't about to reveal the truth...yet. He didn't even know himself what he was going to do or how this would play out. He was still too stunned at finding Lacey in Texas to think this through.
"We're having a friendly game of poker," Lefty said, "shall I deal you in?"
"Why not?" Sam answered, settling in the empty chair Rusty pulled out with his foot.
Sam lost the first hand and won the next two. Dimly he wondered how long it would be before someone brought up his invitation to eat supper with Lacey and Andy.
He didn't have long to wait. "You missed a mighty good supper," Rusty said. "Luke's beef stew is the best I've tasted. Even better than Rita's."
Sam merely grunted.
Rusty cleared his throat. "I don't mean to pry, but I'd swear you and Miz Lacey met before today. Thinking back on it, you both seemed shocked to see one another."
The card game came to an abrupt halt. All attention was centered on Sam and his answer to Rusty's question. Sam realized he had to say something to satisfy their curiosity without telling the whole truth. He wasn't prepared to do that yet.
"Lacey and I knew one another a long time ago."
A weighted silence followed his announcement.
"Did you know Miz Lacey's husband?" Lefty asked.
"Yeah, I reckon you could say that."
When nothing more was forthcoming, the card game continued, but it didn't stop the speculative glances aimed in his direction the rest of the evening.
After the game folded, Sam found his bunk. Sleep eluded him. He was plagued by thoughts of Lacey. Lacey had been right. He had been lying when he said he'd felt nothing when he'd kissed her. He'd felt and tasted and remembered...too damn much. She had been a virgin the first time they made love. Sweet, untouched and innocently passionate. He recalled their stolen kisses, their frantic groping, before they finally indulged
their youthful lust for one another.
Once they had made love they couldn't seem to get enough of one another and had become incautious. One night Tom Peters had walked in on them while they were making love and a shotgun wedding immediately followed. Not that Sam regretted their marriage, not at first, anyway. He had been so in love he had welcomed the wedding. Sam knew old man Peters wasn't thrilled about having a Rebel for a son-in-law, but the thought of Lacey bearing a child out of wedlock was even more repugnant to him.
Then Lacey had betrayed him. She hadn't even stuck around to see the result of her betrayal. She had absented herself that whole day.
Before sleep finally claimed him, Sam relived the kiss he and Lacey had shared tonight. He drifted off to oblivion recalling how deliciously soft and sensuously lush her body had felt against his.
The following days were too busy for Sam to have any thoughts save for those connected with his work. It was branding time and the work was hot, dirty and exhausting. But Sam discovered something about himself during those hectic few days. He liked ranching. He could understand Lacey's determination to save the ranch. What he couldn't excuse was her method of saving it. He hadn't met anyone yet who liked Taylor Cramer, the man Lacey had chosen to marry.
The branding was finally over. The ranch hands quit work early that day, grateful for a few hours free time before supper. Sam was as eager as anyone to collapse on his bunk and relax. Until he saw a horse tied to the hitching post outside the big house and changed his mind. He knew intuitively that the infamous Taylor Cramer had come calling. Exhaustion departed, replaced by a sudden determination to meet the man Lacey had chosen for a husband. He couldn't wait to disabuse Cramer of the notion that he and Lacey would marry.
Sam stopped briefly at the pump to wash up before heading up to the house. He entered through the back door without knocking, startling Rita.
"Senor Sam, I did not hear you knock."
"I didn't knock, Rita. Where's Lacey?"
"But, Senor, you cannot come into the house whenever you please. Even Senor Rusty knocks. Senora Lacey has set strict rules for the hands."
"I don't give a damn what Lacey wants, Rita. Is she in the parlor with Cramer?"
"Si, Senor. Wait here, I'll tell her you wish to speak with her."
"I'll announce myself."
For some reason the thought of Lacey alone with Cramer disturbed him. What in the hell was wrong with him?
Sam strode down the hallway separating the kitchen from the parlor and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Andy flying toward him. He snagged Andy around the waist, halting his flight.
"Whoa there, what's the hurry?"
"He's here," Andy said, arms and legs flailing.
"Who's here?"
"Mean old Cramer. I heard him tell Mama that she should send me away to school. I hate him! Why does Mama want to send me away? I've been a good boy." He hung his head, sniffed, and mumbled, "Most of the time, anyway."
Sam set Andy on his feet. "Why don't you go see what Rusty's up to. I want to talk to your mother."
Andy sent Sam a look so filled with hope that Sam had to look away. "Will you try to change Mama's mind about sending me away? I want to stay here."
"I'll do my best, son."
Andy grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I like you Sam. Do you want to be my pa?"
Sam had no answer to that. "Go on, Andy. Leave your mother to me."
Andy scooted off, his steps decidedly lighter as he brushed a tear from his eye.
Sam watched him leave, his hands clutched into fists at his sides. What in the hell had happened to make Lacey to make her an uncaring mother? He found it difficult to believe that she'd send her own son away to save the ranch. Had she no compassion, no heart?
Sam heard voices coming from the parlor. Firming his resolve, he barged into the room, startling the two occupants.
A man spun around to confront him. "What's the meaning of this? Who are you?"
Sam studied Taylor Cramer and disliked him on sight. He was handsome enough, he supposed, but something about his appearance rubbed Sam the wrong way. He was of medium height, blond and slim. A thin mustache rode his upper lip and his face was not displeasing, until one looked into his eyes. They were a cold, almost colorless gray, exuding no warmth, no emotion. Andy had been right in calling Cramer mean. Those dead eyes gave mute testimony to the meanness inside him. Sam had met men like Cramer before, and treated them with contempt.
"Sam! What are you doing here?" Lacey exclaimed, echoing Cramer's words. "I told you I'd take care of this."
Cramer regarded Lacey with cool disdain. His voice was soft but his inflection held a note of authority. "Perhaps you'd better explain, my dear."
Sam waited to see what Lacey would say.
"This is hard, Taylor," Lacey began. "I never would have agreed to marry you had I known."
Taylor darted Sam a look that would have quelled a lesser man. "Go on, Lacey."
Lacey made a nervous gesture. "I told you I had been married before, and that my husband died in the war."
"I knew that," Cramer said. "What does your previous marriage have to do with this ranch hand barging into your home?"
Sam lost all semblance of patience. The sooner Cramer knew the truth the sooner the bastard would leave Lacey and Andy alone.
"I assume you're Taylor Cramer," Sam said, sending Cramer a look that spoke fluently of his contempt. "It's time I introduced myself. I'm Sam Gentry, Lacey's husband. Forgive me if I don't shake hands. I find meeting my wife's fiancé rather awkward."
Cramer's face turned a vivid red. "What!" He rounded viciously on Lacey. "Tell me it isn't true, Lacey. Tell me this bastard's lying."
Sam felt almost sorry for Lacey, but hardened his heart.
"I...I didn't know Sam was alive," Lacey explained. "He never once attempted to contact me in all the years since his presumed death. I believed I was a widow. No one I contacted told me otherwise. Everything I was told led me to believe Sam had died in the war."
Cramer's eyes narrowed. "Sam Gentry," he said with bitter emphasis. "Why did you show up now? You've had years to let Lacey know you're alive. I understand none of this."
Lacey remained mute so Sam jumped into the void. "You're not expected to understand. I'm Lacey's husband, that's all you need to know. There will be no marriage. Not now, not ever."
"We'll see about that!" Cramer sputtered. "You can't just show up now and claim your wife. I'll not have you ruin my plans."
"I seem to have done just that," Sam drawled. It felt damn good to thwart Lacey and her intended.
Cramer grasped Lacey's upper arms and spun her around to face him. Sam emitted a low growl and prepared to tear Cramer limb from limb. Then Cramer spoke and he forced himself to delay long enough to hear Lacey's answer to Cramer's question.
"Do you still want to marry me, my dear?"
Sam could see Lacey's throat working and his patience fled.
"Dammit, Lacey! Tell the man what he wants to know."
Lacey hated the way Sam was bullying her. How dare he interfere in her life now. Had he wanted her, all he had to do was return to her after the war and claim her and their son. She owed him nothing. Not a blasted thing.
She glared at Sam but directed her words to Cramer. "Of course I still want to marry you, Taylor."
Sam muttered a curse beneath his breath. Lacey reeled beneath the heat of his anger and wished the words back. She feared that this Sam, the Sam she barely knew, would react violently.
Cramer sent Sam a smug smile. "That's all I needed to know, my dear. Leave everything to me. Sam Gentry abandoned you. The law will take that into consideration. I foresee a swift end to your unwanted marriage."
Frustrated beyond endurance, Sam grit his teeth. "There will be no divorce. I suggest you leave, Cramer. Don't bother my wife and...son again."
Lacey went still. She couldn't believe her ears. Sam had just claimed Andy! What did it mean? Had he finally noticed the
resemblance between Andy and himself? Had he looked beyond the blond hair and blue eyes and recognized his own image?
Cramer picked up his hat and shoved it down on his head. "You haven't heard the last from me, Gentry. As for you, Lacey. I'll get right to work on freeing you from this bastard. I'll be back."
The moment Cramer slammed out the door, Lacey rounded on Sam, her eyes blazing fury. "Damn you, Sam Gentry! You've ruined everything! Why didn't you stay dead?"
"I never was dead," Sam hissed. "I can't believe you want to marry that unfeeling bastard."
"Unfeeling! You know nothing about Taylor, how can you call him unfeeling?"
"I spoke with Andy. When he saw Cramer he rushed out of the house as if the devil was on his heels. He hates Cramer. Did you ever wonder why?"
Lacey's jaw firmed. "I know why. He's jealous."
"Jealousy has nothing to do with it. Andy thinks you're going to send him away to school after you and Cramer marry."
Lacey flushed. "He must have heard us talking. Taylor thinks a boarding school will be good for Andy but I'm not convinced. He's far too young to send away. Andy should have listened to the rest of the conversation before jumping to conclusions. Why should you care? Andy is nothing to you."
"I'd care about any child who hates and fears the man his mother plans to marry."
"Andy and I need Taylor. I've done my best since Uncle Hob died but I'm not knowledgeable enough to run a ranch. Taylor is, and he has the means to make our lives easier." She stared him in the eye and said, "Andy needs a father."
"You've managed to convince yourself, but not me. There will be no divorce. It's time you learned you can't have everything your way. Think of your son for a change."
"Andy is my reason for living!" Lacey all but screamed. "Father died, you were gone, I had no one but Andy. Uncle Hob literally saved us both when he asked us to make our home with him in Texas. He loved this ranch. It was his dream come true. The least I can do is save his dream."
"You owe me a helluva lot more than that. Betrayal isn't a pretty word."
"Tell me truthfully, Sam. What can you give me and Andy? Do you have the money to save the ranch? Do you have a home? Property? What can you promise us?" She shook her head. "Nothing, I suspect. Something brought you to Texas, dare I ask what?"
The Outlaws: Sam Page 3
