One Texas Night

by Jodi Thomas

  Shouting came from beyond the chapel walls. Cozette pressed her cheek to the window. She could die in a few minutes when all was quiet, she decided. She saw shadows of men run from one building to another, but she couldn’t tell what was happening. Shouts echoed through the foggy night air and she thought she heard gunfire near the barn.

  As she pushed away from the window, she became aware of someone behind her. Before she could turn, the barrel of a gun pushed sharply against her back.

  “Turn around, pretty lady, and you’re dead,” came a voice low and rich.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, thinking of the old stories she’d heard of outlaws raiding the ranch years ago.

  The laughter only inches behind her chilled her blood.

  “I’m a bandit come to relieve you of the burden of your wealth. I’ll start with that necklace.”

  She tugged off the heavy gold necklace and handed it to him. “Take it and be gone.”

  “And the ring.” He was so close to her she could feel his warm breath on her bare shoulders.

  She jerked off the gold band she’d bought for herself before she left Austin.

  “A willing victim?” the robber said. “A change from what I expected.” His voice was more educated than she thought a bandit’s might be, but the steel of his weapon seemed no less deadly.

  “Is that all you want?” she asked as she stared out into the night wishing the gun in his hand would go off and end her misery.

  “Oh, we’re taking plenty. I checked out the chapel, and my band is loading all your wedding gifts in a wagon.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “You don’t seem upset that we’re taking everything of value.”

  “I could care less,” she answered.

  “Don’t play games with me, miss. I may not kill you, but my gang wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Cozette placed her hands on the windowsill, fighting to see beyond the thick glass. “Your gang? They wouldn’t be three short fat men dressed in black.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “They’re being led away by several of the ranch hands. I don’t know how mean they are but one looks like he might be sobbing.”

  The outlaw pushed her against the window as he looked out. His strong fingers rested on the back of her neck, holding her, but not hurting her. His touch was as warm as the glass was cold.

  “That’s them.” He mumbled an oath. “Great, I leave them for five minutes and look what happens.”

  “My men will come after you next.” She tried to wiggle away. “They’re probably already checking every building on the ranch.”

  For one second his hand slipped against her hair and she twisted to face him. She drew in a quick breath to scream, but his stormy eyes stopped her. He was tall, and darkened by the sun, but his eyes were unlike any she’d ever seen. He was young, maybe only a year or two older than she, yet the sadness in his stare held a hundred years of sorrow.

  “Great!” He pulled her from the window. “You’ve seen my face. Now I have to kill you.”

  “Good!” she shouted back. “Shoot me!” Heaven had answered her prayer.

  She straightened against the wall, bracing herself for the blow. “Shoot me right in the heart.” Cozette closed her eyes and waited.

  After holding her breath for as long as she could, she let out the air and glared at him. The outlaw was just standing there staring at her.

  “What’s wrong? All you have to do is pull the trigger.”

  “I can’t just shoot you in cold blood. Not with you ordering me to. In that dress you look like a doll on top of a wedding cake.”

  “Well, I’m not taking it off, so shoot me.”

  She took another breath, closed her eyes, and waited. No blow came.

  This time when she opened her eyes, he’d lowered his gun to his side. “What’s wrong now?”

  “I can’t, lady. I know it’s the outlaw code to shoot anyone who can identify you, but I can’t.”

  All the tension of the day exploded inside Cozette and he was the only one around to take her bottled-up rage. “You are absolutely the worst outlaw I’ve ever seen. You must have the dumbest gang in creation if they follow you. All you have to do is aim at my heart and shoot me. Then I won’t be around to testify and you can go bungle some other job.”

  “Look, lady, if you want to die so badly, why don’t you just take my gun and kill yourself.”

  “Suicide is a mortal sin. I was schooled by nuns in Austin until a month ago. I know the rules and I always follow them,” she corrected him with a bold lie, but then lying seemed to be her main profession of late. “I don’t expect a low-down, worthless outlaw to know anything about right or wrong. I’m surprised you aren’t lying out somewhere, your dead body feeding the buzzards, or swinging from a tree by rope.” She pointed her finger at him. “Now stop wasting time and shoot me!”

  He shoved his gun in the holster and stared into her face. “No. Maybe I should tie you up and gag you. I’d enjoy the silence and that should give me time to go spring my three uncles and get out of this place by dawn. I knew this was a bad idea from the start.”

  “Just shoot me, please.” She couldn’t believe the answer to her prayers was standing right in front of her refusing to cooperate.

  “I can’t. Someone will hear the shot.” He tried to reason with her.

  “Then choke me.” She pulled the collar of her gown open, popping several buttons.

  He closed the fingers on one hand around her slender neck, but he didn’t tighten his grip.

  He was so close to her she could feel his heart pounding. “Please, do it,” she whispered. “If you don’t I’ll be forced to watch my father die knowing his only child lied to him. I’ll be disgraced and kicked off the ranch by an uncle who hates me.”

  He studied her with those fascinating, stormy blue eyes that seemed to see all the way to her soul. “Why don’t you just tell your father the truth?”

  “If I’m not married by the time he wakes up tomorrow, I’ll break his heart. He never had much to do with me, thought my mother was a fool for listening to my stories. As soon as she died, he sent me to the nuns and, as far as I know, he’s never even read the letters I wrote. He’s giving his brother the ranch rather than let me have it unless I marry.” Cozette knew she was babbling, but she didn’t care. She needed to confess, and an outlaw wasn’t likely to judge her.

  “Don’t you have friends, relatives, the law who will help you?” To her surprise the outlaw actually sounded concerned.

  “No one who would stand against my uncle once my father is gone. I’m sure the will is legal.” She paused, then tried another angle. “My uncle will kill your gang. He’s done it to others who tried to steal from the ranch. They say he beat a cook almost to death for stealing three chickens. My father’s a hard man, but his brother twisted one more step into cruelty.”

  The bandit let go of her neck and backed away. “You’ve got a mountainload of problems, lady.” He handed her back the ring and necklace. “I wish I could help you, but right now I’ve got my own worries. Those three fat little outlaws in black are all the family I’ve got, and I’ll do anything it takes to save them. I thought if I came along with them tonight, I’d keep them out of trouble, but that plan obviously didn’t work.”

  Cozette stared at the jewelry in her hand. She cared nothing about it or all the wedding gifts. All she wanted was her land, someplace to live, somewhere to raise the child she carried. “Are you sure you won’t kill me?”

  He smiled, a sad smile as if he was sorry he’d disappointed her. “I can’t, lady.”

  “Then marry me.” Cozette covered her mouth, not believing what she’d said, but the logic of it slammed against her. “The priest won’t help me. I’ve lied to him as I did to everyone else. They all believe my husband is coming tonight. But, if I told him you were that man, he’d marry us and my uncle would have to watch the land pass to my husband.”

  “But I’m no
t 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 wanted 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.