The only time he caught her gaze was when they were pronounced man and wife. Something changed in him. He looked at her differently than he ever had. As if he owned her. As if she belonged to him.
And she did.
The life she might have had with Nathaniel Newcomb, or any other man of means, was now gone. Her future was with this wild, unpredictable cowboy who stole the very breath from her lungs.
“You may…kiss your bride,” the pastor said sourly.
Luke took her in his arms and planted a kiss firmly on her lips. She thought he’d be angry or brutal, but his mouth was soft against hers, coaxing her to open for him before lightly licking her with his tongue.
“All right, that’s enough,” Shirley heard her father say.
Luke actually growled and it echoed in the church. “You gave her to me, old man. You made her my wife. I decide when it’s enough.” He still held her within the circle of his arms, but Shirley turned her head to glance at her father.
Chuck swallowed hard and lowered his gun, looking as if he regretted their impromptu wedding. “Come now, Shirley,” he said with less force. “It’s time to go home.”
Luke’s arms tightened, pulling her so close, her cheek rested on his chest. She trembled against him. “She’s not goin’ anywhere with you. My wife is coming home with me.”
Spots swam before her eyes and she closed them to keep from swooning.
Her father actually sputtered, unable to retort to Luke’s possessive words. But he was right. She belonged with him.
“You all right?” her new husband whispered in her ear.
She let out one single, choked sob. “I don’t know! I-I need a moment to collect myself.”
“You may have a moment in my office,” Pastor Robinson suggested. “Seems your father and your husband have a few things to discuss.”
With a short nod, she stepped away from Luke and shivered. Without looking back, she walked around the altar to the small room the pastor used to write and prepare his sermons.
She shut the door and fell apart.
Eight
Shirley paced the room like a caged animal. She’d already bitten her lovely nails to nubs, and before too long, she’d soon wear a hole in Pastor Robinson’s fine rug. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but the tears showed no signs of slowing. She’d just married a man. And not just any man.
Luke.
Good Lord. And Christopher had been present as a witness! Surely her indiscretion would be the talk of the town by tomorrow. Everyone would know what an unplanned, late night wedding meant. She’d be a laughing stock. Branded a harlot. Or worse.
What would her sister think? Oh God, what would Marcus think? Luke was his good friend! Would this come between them? Would she be responsible for breaking their friendship?
Terror fueled her heart and it railed against her ribcage. She couldn’t stay, not when tongues would wag come morning. The loud voices of Luke and her father boomed beyond the door, but she couldn’t make out their muffled words. Being at the mercy of the men in her life not only frightened her, but angered her as well.
How dare her father make her marry a man she didn’t love? And how dare Luke put her in such a compromising position?
She’d be better off without either of them.
Her mind made up, Shirley marched right to the closed window and threw it open. With an unladylike grunt, she half-climbed, half-fell out the window. But thankfully, no one was around to witness her getaway. She couldn’t very well go to her sister’s home. Lissa and Marcus would be upset, but they’d demand she return to her husband. And right about now, Shirley didn’t want a thing to do with Mr. Luke Austin.
And she obviously couldn’t go home. Luke wouldn’t let her return to the shop.
Maybe if she fled far enough away, she could outrun this nightmare. It was her only hope. She’d gone through with the wedding because of her father’s shotgun, but there was no doubt in her mind Luke hadn’t been fishing for a wife when he’d been about to make love to her. He didn’t want this any more than she did.
Holding up her skirts, Shirley ran all the way to the livery stable. She struggled for every breath and her lungs were on fire, but she couldn’t afford to stop. Any minute now, they’d discover she’d fled and they’d find her. She had to leave. Now.
It was easy enough to find her father’s beloved mare. The tan-colored horse nickered softly when she opened the door to its stall. It took Shirley a few moments to untangle the bridle from the nail on the wall, and another few to get the horse to open its mouth.
“Please,” she whispered, hoping the horse would somehow understand her haste. “I need you to help me.”
She had only watched her father put on a saddle—she’d never done so herself. She could only guess she was doing it right. Just as she pulled hard on the girth strap and cinched it, the horse chuffed and tossed its head.
“Easy ol’ girl,” Shirley cooed, stroking the animal’s neck. Her hand trembled violently. “It won’t be much longer.”
Lifting her skirts, it took her a few tries to get her foot into the high stirrup, and a few more to swing her other leg over the saddle. She had to adjust her skirts to sit astride the horse, but she couldn’t worry about being proper now.
With a sharp kick, she urged the mare from the stall and out the stables, into the night. The mare tossed its head once more and pranced about just as Shirley urged her forward. Without warning, the animal took off running. It was all Shirley could do to hold back her screams of horror. She’d never ridden so hard or so fast in her life. With her heart in her throat, she bent low over the saddle horn like she’d seen countless cowboys do, and clutched the reins with white knuckles.
Bouncing precariously on the back of the horse, she rode for dear life, leaving the Gulch, her family, and her new husband behind.
~ * ~
Far beyond the Gulch, far beyond the lighted lanterns and the carousing music from the saloon, Shirley realized something was horribly wrong. The mare had slowed from her previous run, but she was still traveling at a fast clip when the saddle Shirley had cinched began to slide off the animal’s back.
“No, no, no!”
She tried grabbing hold of the horse’s neck in an effort to stay astride, but she wasn’t fast enough. With a cry and a thud, Shirley dumped into the dirt and lost her breath. She bounced once, landing on her stomach and eating a mouthful of sand. It took a moment for her to comprehend what had happened while the mare tossed her head and trotted in circles around her.
As if the animal had been spooked, she bolted once again, seeming to gallop off the way they came.
Shirley groaned. She needed to cough, but she couldn’t draw the air to do so. Pushing up from the ground, she concentrated on breathing and panicked when her breaths wouldn’t come. Pounding the dirt a few times with her fists, the tightness in her belly finally eased, allowing her to take in deep gulps of air.
Tears stung her again—of sorrow, of fury, and of disappointment that she hadn’t gotten as far as she’d hoped. She could have made it to Dallas if she’d lasted a couple of days on her own. But as it stood now, she was probably going to regret taking off in the dead of night once the sun rose.
Sitting on her knees, Shirley looked out at the darkened landscape and moaned to herself. The Gulch was nowhere in sight. Neither was her father’s horse. She was in a real bind. Was this her fate? To die alone in the Texas desert?
Perhaps she should return and beg their forgiveness.
No, she thought, setting her jaw. They’d never forgive her for leaving them. For humiliating them. A deep sob ripped through her at the very moment she realized she had nothing. Absolutely nothing. No food, no water, no money, no family. Not even her pride or her self-respect.
Collapsing where she sat, Shirley wept until she’d wrung herself dry.
Nine
“What the hell?”
Luke glanced around Pastor Robinson’s empty office, taking in the wide-
open window and the scattered papers on the desk, ruffled by the night breeze. Shirley was nowhere in sight, having high-tailed it out the window in an effort to escape what had happened, escape their marriage—and escape him.
“Language, sir!” the pastor cried over Luke’s shoulder. “This is the house of God!”
Right about now, Luke didn’t much care. The doorway behind him was blocked by the pastor, Christopher, and Chuck, whom he’d argued with for a good ten minutes. He’d been the one to give Luke his daughter in matrimony, and Luke wasn’t about to let his new wife return home with her father instead of her husband. She was his now, and he wasn’t going to let her father call the shots any longer.
But Shirley had gone and fled, probably terrified and overwhelmed by their wedding. Damn it, if Luke now had to argue with Shirley now about where she belonged, then what hope did their fragile new marriage have?
Luke turned from the door and crossed the room. With one swift movement, he placed his hands on the windowsill and vaulted to the ground with a thud. Voices and commotion came from above him, but he wasn’t listening.
Darting down the main road of the Gulch, Luke knew Shirley wouldn’t have fled to her father’s shop. He’d simply find her there and demand she leave with him. And she wouldn’t have run to her sister’s home, as explaining the reason for their late night nuptials wouldn’t have been something she’d care to clarify.
That only left one other option.
She’d run to the livery stables.
With his breath heaving from his run, Luke entered the stables and noticed one stall was open and empty, with signs of someone leaving in a hurry.
“Damned fool woman!” he growled under his breath. Luke dashed to his own horse who nickered at him and stomped his foot in greeting. While he hastily readied his horse, all kinds of horrid thoughts wandered into his head, of Shirley bleeding and helpless at the mercy of the desert sun. Or of Shirley found and raped by a band of no-good outlaws.
His heart hitched at the imaginings. Fear replaced his anger and the moment he mounted his gelding, Luke prayed he’d find his wife alive and well.
So he could kill her himself.
~ * ~
“In the name of all that is holy!”
“It’s Miss Bloom!”
“Get out of the way, boy, let me see her.”
Sounds of shuffling came to her and she tried to open her eyes. The bright sun blinded her and she blinked rapidly. She recognized one of the voices. It was older. It belonged to…
“Let me grab my instruments!”
Doctor Newcomb.
“I’ll get them for you.” One of the men helped to sit up. “Are you all right, Miss Bloom?” She gazed into the worried, handsome face of Dr. Newcomb’s nephew, Nathaniel. Confusion overcame her and she knit her brows.
The younger man sprang up to grab the black bag the good doctor took with him everywhere. Two horses were stopped not too far away. The men must have been on a morning ride and discovered her.
“What are you doing out here, young lady?” the doctor asked. “You look a fright! Did someone kidnap you?” His voice lowered. “Take you against your will?”
Nathaniel dropped the bag next to his uncle’s feet. Doctor Newcomb wasted no time rummaging through it.
“Give her some water!” he barked.
Nathaniel jumped again to bring her the canteen hooked around his saddle horn.
“No, I was not kidnapped,” Shirley said, amazed her voice was so gritty and deep. Opening the canteen, she took a long swig. “I fell off my horse.”
“In the middle of nowhere?” Doctor Newcomb sounded aghast as he examined her with this stethoscope. “You were riding by yourself? So early in the morning?”
“Last night,” she managed to say.
Nathaniel gasped. “What in tarnation were you doing out here at night? And by yourself, no less?”
Shirley turned away, unwilling to answer them. Maybe if she ignored her wedding, she could pretend like it never happened. “I had my reasons,” she murmured.
“Does anything hurt?” the doctor asked her.
Shirley thought for a moment. “I don’t think so.”
“Wiggle your fingers and toes for me.”
She did and winced at the pain in her right ankle.
Newcomb sighed. “Thought you mighta done something to yourself if you fell from a horse. Nathaniel, remove her boot and stocking.”
“What?” the younger man squawked, his face turning red.
“No!” Shirley protested, trying in vain to move her foot away.
“You might have broken a bone, and if you do, it could need to be set. Let me have a look.”
“Doctor Newcomb—”
“Call me Timothy,” he told her, pointing to her boot and glaring at his nephew.
Nathaniel hesitated then gave her a look of apology before moving to obey. He unfastened her buttons slowly, so as not to cause her any more pain. But once he’d gingerly pulled off her boot his hands on her foot tickled, and she tried to yank away.
“It’s all right,” Timothy said, placing his hand over Nathaniel’s. “I can examine her through the stocking. It appears as if no bone is poking through her skin.”
He crouched low and tenderly rubbed her ankle, before feeling it and bending her foot back and forth. Shirley winced and tried hard not to show her discomfort.
“Nothing is broken, thank goodness,” Timothy said with a sigh. “You’ve twisted your ankle, though. It’s best if you don’t try to walk on it for a while. I have some bandages. I’ll let Nathaniel wrap it for you and we’ll take you back to town.”
Shirley bit her tongue and didn’t argue. Nathaniel was learning to become a doctor himself. She knew Timothy was allowing him to wrap her ankle for practice. But that didn’t make her feel any less uncomfortable at his touch.
He was gentle as he worked, but she had to glance away as embarrassment coiled through her. After running away like a coward, she deserved to be called a laughing stock.
The sound of drumming hooves came to her on the wind, and Shirley shielded her eyes to see the approaching horse and rider. With a mighty groan, she recognized exactly who it was.
Luke. And he looked mad as hell.
It didn’t take long for him to pull up next to them. He slid from his saddle with grace and poise. Tall and lean, he was wearing the same clothes as the day before, and it didn’t appear as if he’d slept a wink. His gaze darkened when he got a glimpse of what Nathaniel was doing.
“Get your hands off my wife.”
The young man’s eyes bulged, but he scurried away, holding up his hands as if he was at gunpoint. Timothy’s brows rose in shock, but he then scowled at Luke and moved to finish what his nephew had started.
“She’s twisted her ankle,” he said loudly, finally securing the wrap and pulling down her skirts. “Said she did it falling off a horse. You know anything about that?”
Luke nodded ominously, his eyes still cutting into Nathaniel. “She left me at the altar after our wedding last night. Found her father’s favorite mare with its saddle on sideways a few hours later. Figured something had happened to her. I’ve been searching all night.” His cold, blue eyes found hers and refused to let go. “And all morning.”
His tone sent shivers down her spine. He was right pissed, and Shirley had no idea how to handle him.
“You’re…married, you say?” Nathaniel’s voice was small, but she heard the crushed hope behind it.
“That’s right,” Luke said, putting himself between Shirley and the young doctor. “Had ourselves a private little ceremony, didn’t we, Mrs. Austin?”
Shirley didn’t answer. She was too appalled at what he’d just called her.
“Didn’t we?” he said with more force.
“Yes,” she finally croaked.
“You can ask the pastor yourself.” Luke turned to face her and bent to hook his arms under her knees and behind her shoulders. “Or Christopher. They were
both present. So was Shirley’s father, Chuck. And his shotgun.” She heard the sudden mirth in his tone. Luke enjoyed telling these men of her disgrace!
The Newcomb men were silent as Luke lifted her onto his saddle. He then jumped up behind her and placed her backside against his crotch. He wrapped his arm around her waist and someone gasped at the intimate gesture.
“Thank you for finding my wife for me, gentlemen. I trust you have more important things to do?”
Before they could answer, she was whisked away like a princess in a fairy tale. But if she knew Luke at all, one thing was for certain.
She would not get out of this unscathed.
She had a feeling she was about to learn just how hot her husband’s temper could be.
Ten
Shirley stayed silent on the ride back to Gideon’s Gulch. Thankfully, so did Luke. But his arm around her waist was like iron, pressing her against the curves of his body. He didn’t run his fine appaloosa gelding, but rather walked the animal. He probably didn’t want to jar her injured foot. All Shirley wanted was to collapse on her own bed.
But that was a dream that wasn’t about to come true. She belonged with Luke now, wherever he slept. And that meant confronting Lissa and Marcus and telling them of their marriage.
As if he’d read her mind, Luke’s deep voice resonated in her ear. “We’re not going back to your sister’s. I’m thinkin’ we need some time alone to talk.” She inwardly cringed. “I’m taking you to Maude's Inn and we’ll get a room for the night.”
Shirley nodded then remembered he liked to be verbally acknowledged. “A-all right.”
“Are you in pain?” Luke’s voice didn’t betray any of his anger. In fact, he sounded like a concerned husband. Her stomach flopped inside of her.
“Not at the moment.”
“How’s your ankle?”
“Better now that the doctor wrapped it.”
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