Fit to be Tied

by Myla Jackson

  Who cared?

  The fist loosened and her hand slid over her belly where the ache had resurfaced with his kiss. She couldn’t remember feeling this alive after making love with Daniel. All she’d thought about back then was getting through it and moving on to the next day’s work.

  But with Richard…she wanted to find out more about what Tessa the whore had taught him. Imagine all the positions and techniques she’d learn and all the fun of inventing and discovering more. Surely out of a sex-filled marriage, love could follow. Couldn’t it?

  “Ms. Julia!” Fiona’s voice broke through Julia’s lusty thoughts. The older woman raced down the front steps and wrapped her in her arms, tears falling from her wrinkled eyes. “When you didn’t come back…I thought…I thought you were dead.”

  “As you can see, I’m not.” She patted the woman’s back until her sobs ceased only to be replaced by hiccups. After several minutes, she pushed the woman to arms length. “Are you okay?”

  “Where were you all night and half the morning?” Fiona dabbed at her cheeks with a frayed white handkerchief. “I was just about to go to the sheriff to ask him to find you.”

  “A good thing you didn’t.” Julia’s gaze followed the disappearing buggy. “Let’s just say my plan backfired.” So much had happened in the space of one night, almost as if she’d led another life. One she wanted badly to return to.

  Fiona’s eyes widened and she pushed Julia to arm’s length, studying her from head to toe. “Where did you get the dress? Where are your other clothes?” Her hand clapped over her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She turned her, inspecting her backside.

  Julia shook her hands off and strode toward the house. “I’m fine, besides a bump on the back of my head.” Which had begun to throb. She pushed through the front door, reluctant to answer the barrage of questions to come.

  Fiona dogged her heels. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Everything.” She came to a stop in the parlor, staring around at the few remaining pieces of furniture that were either in too poor condition to sell, or her mother had given her and they held too many memories to part with. The beautiful ebony piano her mother had played until the day she’d died stood by the window, worn sheet music leaning against the stand. The piano represented the last item of value she could sell to put food on the table and keep the banker at bay. Julia sank onto the stool and ran her fingers over the keys, the sound as pure and lovely as always, a reminder of her sweet mother. She couldn’t sell it and even if she did, the sale wouldn’t keep Richard from turning her over to the sheriff. “I can’t do it.”

  “Do what?” Fiona wrung her hands. “What happened, tell me.”

  With a long, drawn-out sigh, she slumped against the piano her forehead pressing into the cool, ivory keys. “It was all going so well until I was captured by a cowboy.”

  “Oh my.” Fiona pressed a fist to her lips. “Did he turn you over to the sheriff? They hang horse thieves, you know.”

  “I didn’t steal his horse, only a bit of money, jewelry and a pocket watch.” None of which she had to show for her effort. “When he captured me, he retrieved his belongings.”

  The older woman paced the worn carpet, tearing at the handkerchief in her hands. “However did you manage to escape? And where did you find that dress?”

  “He let me go and loaned me the dress.” She stared down at the bright floral pattern on the fabric. Richard’s mother must have been a nice woman. Why then had she given birth to an ogre? Although the ogre could have taken her straight to the sheriff instead of his home. And what would become of Fiona and her mother’s piano if she’d been sentenced to spend years in jail for her crime? No doubt Fiona would have to find work at her advanced age and the piano would be sold off. Not to mention Julia would be shamed and labeled a thief. And what would happen to her when she completed her sentence in jail? Or would they have hanged her?

  Richard had given her the option of jail or marriage to him? Why in God’s name did she resist such an obvious decision? A home with a man to provide for her and her housekeeper…or jail. Really, her choice had been made for her. She had to marry Richard. She had no other alternatives. Robbing innocent people no longer seemed like a good idea. Not to mention she wasn’t very good at it.

  “I’m surprised he let you go without consequences for your attempt to rob him.”

  “I didn’t say there were no consequences.” Julia lifted her head and stared across at her housekeeper.

  “But he let you go. He didn’t involve the sheriff. What do you mean?”

  “He gave me an ultimatum.” She rose from the stool and strode to the French doors badly in need of paint. “He insisted I marry him or he’d turn me over to the sheriff as the Black Bandit.”

  “Marry him? Oh my dear Julia. Whatever are you to do? What will be come of us? “ She paused in her exclamations and tipped her head to the side, her gaze calculating. “Is he impossibly ugly? Does he have any wealth to his name? Who is this man who’d demand marriage?”

  “I give you one guess.”

  Her housekeeper’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Surely you do not mean—”

  Julia nodded. “Richard Rayburn. And the wedding, if I choose to accept his not-so-kind offer, is today at one o’clock in the afternoon at the Mule Ear Chapel.”

  “Julia, Richard Rayburn is a very wealthy man. He owns more than six thousand acres and a significant number of cattle. He could be the solution to all our—your—problems. You most certainly should marry the man.”

  “Oh please.” Julia planted her hands on her hips, prepared to fight a battle she’d already lost. “He’s an oaf, a coarse cowboy, and he wouldn’t know how to treat a woman any differently than a heifer.” She cringed at her own lie. Richard had known exactly how to make her body hum. In fact, it still hummed to the memory of his tongue and fingers, stroking her in all the right places.

  “But he has all that land.” Fiona spread her arms wide. “He has a nice house, from what I hear. We would never lack for anything.”

  He definitely had more than land, cattle and money to offer some lucky woman. He could give a woman everything, except love. “I married Daniel because my father, God rest his soul, said I should. What did that get me? A gambler without a care for anything but the next game to bet on.”

  “Julia, we can’t go on like we are and you can’t steal to keep food on our table. It’s just not right.” The older woman squared her shoulders and pushed back her sleeves. I suppose I could take in laundry for the Clancy’s. That would help with food, but not with the sheriff or the banker.” The starch drained from her stance. “Oh dear, you are in a bad situation, but stealing is not the answer.”

  “And being forced to marry is?” She stared at her housekeeper, the woman who’d been with her since she was a little girl. The old woman who would take on additional work to help keep what was left of their tiny family together. Dear, dear Fiona.

  “The way I see it, we’re out of choices, Julia.” Fiona sighed. “But you have to do what’s right in your heart. It is your life, after all.” The old woman’s shoulders sagged and she turned to leave the room, looking her age and more.

  “Wait, Fiona.”

  Fiona turned, the wrinkles on her face seeming deeper than a moment before. She really was getting old. She wouldn’t make it through another winter in this drafty old house with no money to buy food and no one but Julia to chop wood for the fireplace.

  Julia went to the old woman and wrapped her in her arms. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll think of something. In the meantime, could you iron my mother’s wedding dress? Just in case I can’t think fast enough.” She smiled down at the frail old woman. “And don’t worry, I won’t do anything else that goes against the law. I’m not cut out to be an outlaw.”

  A frown creased the woman’s brow. “I didn’t want you to risk your life to take care of me and I wouldn’t want you to go into a marriage with a man who’ll hurt you. He didn’t hurt you last n
ight, did he?” Her fingers gripped Julia’s arms with surprising strength.

  “No, Fiona, he didn’t hurt me.” Her pussy was sore and sensitive, but that was a different kind of hurt and a constant reminder of how much she’d forgotten herself in the cowboy’s arms. The ache built quickly into a longing to repeat last night’s lovemaking and recapture the incredible explosion of her senses. Her heartbeat quickened and she pulled away from Fiona before the old woman could see the lust in her eyes.

  * * * * *

  “So, brother, how did you fare last night at the Clancy’s ball. Did you give up on finding a willing bride? Or did one of the lovelies spark your interest?” Stephen strode into the kitchen later that morning, bright and cheerful and ready to poke fun at his brother.

  Richard was not in the mood. He’d laid down the ultimatum with Julia and then let her go. Already he regretted his decision. Not his decision to marry her, but the one where he let her go. He should have held her captive until the actual wedding. Then she’d have no way of escaping him. The more he thought about marrying Julia, the more right it felt and the more anxious he became.

  “Are you still asleep, brother?” Stephen waved a hand in front of Richard’s face.

  “What?” Richard snapped, turning his attention from the view out the kitchen window to his brother.

  Stephen’s face fell. “I take it you have not found a bride. Such a shame to see Spring Valley go to Mathis. The man is an incompetent rancher and a buffoon.”

  Richard scrubbed a hand over his tired face, remembering he’d gotten very little sleep the night before. His memories of what had transpired in his bedroom brought a fleeting smile to his lips before his mood took a downturn. “I found the woman I’m going to marry.”

  “He doesn’t know the first thing about cattle ranching. Just because he won his ranch from Old Man Finnegan in a poker game doesn’t give him the right—” Stephen stopped in mid-sentence. “What did you say?”

  “I said I found her,” Richard repeated more slowly as if to a dimwitted child.

  Stephen’s face split in a wide grin and he pounded his brother on the back. “Very well! Who is she? Where is she? How did you find a woman crazy enough to marry you with only a day’s notice?”

  Richard turned away from his brother, unwilling to go into the details of his run-in with the fake Black Bandit. “It’s enough for you to know I found her and the wedding is still set for one o’clock this afternoon in Mule Ear.” Providing the bride showed up.

  “You’re not going to tell me all the delectable details, are you?” Stephen crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pushing his brows together. “At least give me her name. I have a right to know who my future sister-in-law is.”

  “Julia Blackmon.”

  “Ah, a widow-woman.” Stephen’s brows waggled. “No silly virgins for you, I take it. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s not hard on the eyes.”

  “She’s passable.” She was more than passable but Richard didn’t like discussing Julia as if she were a common whore to be chosen from a lineup of bordello women. She was due the respect of a lady, even if she had dressed as an outlaw and tried to rob him. His lips twitched as he remembered how she looked in the black trousers, vest and coat and how much he’d enjoyed stripping them from her delicious body, one item at a time. Peeling away the layers of anonymity to discover the beautiful creature beneath the man’s garb.

  His cock filled and he was glad he’d turned away from his brother’s sharp scrutiny.

  “Passable? We are talking about Julia Blackmon, the widow with the coal black hair and incredible blue eyes? She was at Clancy’s last night, was she not?” Stephen shook his head. “Oh yes indeed, she’s a beauty, all right.”

  “I just hope she shows for the wedding,” Richard muttered beneath his breath.

  Unfortunately, his brother heard his softly spoken entreaty. “You have any doubt?”

  “Some. We didn’t have much time to discuss it and she wasn’t too keen on the idea.”

  “But she did say yes, didn’t she?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then how do you know she’ll be there?”

  “I just do.” Richard’s back teeth ground together. Hell, he didn’t know for sure if his threat would make any difference with her and the reality of his loose hold on her ate at his gut. The more he thought about Julia, the more he wished he’d kept her until the wedding. From his short acquaintance with the woman, he could tell she was stubborn and independent, the perfect wife for a rancher. To force her into a wedding would only get her back up and push her away.

  Damn. He’d blown his chance. He turned to his brother. “She has to show up. That’s all there is to it.” He stalked out of the house to the well and drew a bucket of water.

  Stephen followed him out. “What do you plan to do?”

  “What does it look like?” He lifted the bucket of fresh, cool water and carried it toward the house. “The chores. And then I’m going to bathe for my wedding.”

  Instead of a worried expression, a smile curved his brother’s lips. “I rather relish the idea of the great Richard Rayburn standing at the alter, awaiting a bride that may or may not come. That is, if it didn’t mean losing the rights to Spring Valley. You do realize that if she doesn’t show, you’ll be the laughingstock of the entire town.”

  “Then I’ll deserve it.” He stopped and stared at his brother. “Are you coming to my wedding or not?”

  Stephen grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in England.”

  * * * * * *

  “Where is Fiona?” Julia paced the length of her bedroom, wearing her mother’s wedding gown. The clock on the mantel had passed noon over thirty minutes ago and still Fiona wasn’t back from the tailor’s shop with the needed thread to sew the flounce at the hem of her dress. If she didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make the chapel on time. Images of the sheriff arriving at her door to haul her to jail swarmed through her mind.

  Hot on the tail of those images were the ones of her and Richard writhing beneath the sheets of their wedding bed. Perhaps married to a man with his talents in the bed wouldn’t be such a burden as she’d originally thought. She’d almost gotten used to the idea.

  Julia glanced out the window in time to see Fiona hurrying as fast as her old legs could carry her. She entered the house, the door slamming open. Julia rushed down the stairs to save the old woman the climb. She had to be exhausted by her haste into town and back. Julia’s house sat on the edge of Mule Ear, far enough away from Main Street to be a considerable trek for the aging housekeeper. But once Julia climbed into the wedding gown, Fiona insisted she couldn’t take it off. It might rip more seams, due to the age of the gown.

  Patience was not one of Julia’s virtues and the thirty minutes Fiona took to spend their last pennies at the tailor’s shop had nearly cost Julia a year or two of worry off her life.

  When Julia sailed down the stairs, Fiona glanced up at her, a wild look in her aging eyes. “Ms. Julia,” she gasped between hauling air into her lungs. “The sheriff…”

  Julia’s heart slammed against her chest. Had Richard gone against his word and called in the sheriff after all? Had he changed his mind about marrying her? Her stomach knotted with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment. Her cowboy had changed his mind. She grabbed the old woman’s shoulders. “What about the sheriff? Is he on his way?” If he was, she didn’t have time to climb out of this dress, much less throw a saddle on her horse. She’d go to jail, like a common criminal.

  “He caught the Bandit. The sheriff caught the Black Bandit!” She grabbed Julia’s hands. “Don’t you see? You don’t have to marry Mr. Rayburn after all. He can’t turn you in as the bandit when they’ve already caught him. No one would believe Mr. Rayburn’s story.”

  The shock of the housekeeper’s announcement soaked in, numbing Julia all over from the tip of her beautifully coifed hair to the toes of her mother’s wedding slippers. She didn’t have to marry Richard. H
e couldn’t threaten to throw her in jail if it was only her word against his. And who would believe Richard when they’d already caught the bandit?

  “Has Richard arrived in town?”

  “Not yet, but it’s almost one o’clock. He’s due to arrive in less than ten minutes.” Fiona stared at Julia. “What are you going to do?”

  Chapter Six

  Richard drove his buggy into Mule Ear for the second time that day. He’d spent the morning tending his livestock and giving orders to his ranch hands. As noon approached, he’d washed up and slipped into his best Sunday clothes. While Stephen had gone ahead of him an hour earlier, Richard had waited until the last possible minute to leave. Now he hurried to town, a knot of worry lodged firmly in his throat.

  Would she be there? Would the beautiful Julia Blackmon show up at the chapel to marry him? The closer he got to town, the more unsure he became. Why would she should she show up? He’d threatened to have her thrown in jail? Was that any way to begin a union as man and wife? With threats?

  As town came into view, he almost turned the buggy around and retreated to his home in the country. What would a lovely lady like Julia want with a rangy cowboy like him? She wouldn’t be there.

  But what if she is?

  The plot of land in Spring Valley was the farthest worry from his mind. If he lost it, so what? After his time with the daring bandit last night, he was obsessed. He had to have Julia. Not just in his bed, but as his wife.

  Curiosity and a flimsy grasp on hope carried him forward until the buggy came to a stop in front of the chapel. Apparently Stephen had spread the word that the wedding was still on, despite Violet’s betrayal. Richard Rayburn had found himself a bride and the entire town turned out to see whom he had chosen from the eligible women. Over a hundred people had turned out in their finest to see Richard’s downfall and humiliation. Great. He made a note to thank his brother for ringing out the good news. He’d have to think of something equally dastardly to do to him in return.