Gambling on the Outlaw

by Margaret Madigan

  “Saving your sorry hide,” I growled at him. “You’re welcome.”

  Planting my shoulder in his chest, I shoved until he gave way and entered the tiny cabin.

  There wasn’t much to it, but I about cried when I saw the bed. After shedding my saddlebags, rifle, hat, and boots, I dropped my tired body onto the threadbare quilt, and closed my eyes.

  They popped back open again when the door slammed, and I looked up to find Isaac with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his feet planted wide. The thunderous expression on his face gave me pause.

  “You shouldn’t have come after me.”

  I sat up and scooted to lean back against the wall. I knew all the reasons the girls had told me why I shouldn’t come, and the ones I’d repeated to myself and then ignored, but I was curious what his reasons were. “Why not?”

  “I’m a dangerous man to be around.” His stance seemed to confirm his claim. He looked like a mountain in the middle of the tiny cabin.

  I cocked a skeptical brow at him. “Other than tempting me to misbehave, you don’t seem very dangerous.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched with the hint of a smirk, acknowledging the attraction between us, then turned back down into a frown lest I think he’d softened any. “All of Palmer’s after my hide. I won’t have you caught in the middle of something that’s not your concern.”

  “It is my concern. I gave you refuge and assistance. That makes me an accomplice in your escape. Not to mention, Lydia’s the one who turned you in. So the way I see it, your current situation is at least partially my responsibility.”

  His shoulders relaxed some as the tension went out of his body. “I wondered what she’d do after she caught us in the barn.”

  “She thought she was protecting her family. It doesn’t excuse what she did, but it explains it, anyway.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t blame her. She did the smart thing.”

  “And I didn’t?”

  “No. Chasing after a killer with a posse on his tail isn’t smart.”

  “You didn’t kill Clay, you only tried, and you didn’t kill the people on the stage.”

  “Doesn’t matter much to them. They’re out for my blood.”

  “Clay said something before I sent him off south looking for you. He said you used to be a hired gun. Is that true?”

  He glanced down at his boots. When his eyes came back up, I saw the hint of shame there.

  “I did. My temper’s always been my undoing anyway, but after the war I was lost and angry. As a hired gun I could wander the country without any responsibility except the current job. I let my resentment and bitterness get the better of me. But I don’t do that anymore. I haven’t for a while now.”

  He turned his back to me, as if I’d defeated him somehow by bringing up his past.

  “I’m sorry I mentioned it. It’s really none of my business.” I moved to the edge of the bed. My heart went out to him. I knew something about letting your emotions rule you. It could be difficult to wrestle those demons under control once they’d been given free rein.

  “I’ve done a lot I’m not proud of, but in the last few years I’ve worked hard to put my life back on track. Thanks to Dearborn, all that work’s for naught.”

  I watched him stoke the stove. His words made me want to hold him close and comfort him, tell him I knew all about working hard to change and rebuild a broken life. But then he reached for more wood to add to the fire, and the profile of his square-cut jaw dark with several days’ growth made me want to hold him for completely different reasons.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Now wasn’t the time to lose control of myself, but my unruly heart decided that stuck together in a tiny cabin was the perfect time to imagine burying my fingers in the warm depths of Isaac’s dark hair. My body agreed, responding with eager fluttering in my belly and liquid heat farther south when my mind conjured an image of the pink, raw path his stubble would leave on my skin wherever he kissed.

  I opened my eyes and shook my head, trying to rid my mind of the images. It would be a long night if I couldn’t, and I doubted I had sufficient reserve of willpower to resist him for long, assuming he felt the same way. I could just as easily make a fool of myself if he had no interest in me, as he’d claimed before he left the homestead. Somehow, though, I didn’t think that was the case.

  When he finished with the stove and turned to face me, the hint of a smile formed on his lips when he caught me staring at him. “Beth?”

  I blinked, unable to remember the conversation after being lost in my cursed imagination.

  “What?”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” he said, his tone one of concession, “but I can’t have you put yourself in any more danger for me. I’ll find a way to get Big Black back to you once I have another horse. Until then, you can just run along home tomorrow morning.”

  The turnabout in the conversation had me confused for a moment, struggling to catch up. Had he just told me to run along home?

  “No,” I said, infusing my voice with dismissal.

  He threw his hands up and paced the small space. “What are you thinking? You’re bound to get yourself hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience.” Each circuit of the cabin only required two steps. His long legs and big body seemed cramped and out of place. “It may take some talking to clear things up, but in the end you’ll be safer at home.”

  He finished in the same place he’d started, his expression inviting no argument. He’d decided the way it would to be, and he expected me to do as I was told. Instead of willing compliance, his words only had me good and fuming. I had no intention of going anywhere. I thought I’d already made that clear.

  I shot off the bed and jabbed my finger into his hard chest as I glared up at him.

  “You listen here, you stubborn man. For your information, I don’t need your permission or your protection. I can take care of myself, thank you very much. And,” I poked him again, “you’ve got no right to tell me what to do and expect me to actually do it. You made that clear when you kissed me, then turned me away.”

  I hadn’t actually meant to bring up that kiss. The words had just come out. He opened his mouth to argue, but I didn’t give him a chance.

  “And regardless of what we may or may not think of each other, I’m not about to let those good-for-nothing jackals hang an innocent man.” I poked him one more time for good measure. “You may think you’re better off without me, but you’re not.”

  I mirrored his pose, my arms folded across my chest and my feet planted wide, daring him to contradict me. His ire glittered in his eyes and he held my gaze, sizing me up, measuring his next words. They’d better be good ones, but no matter what he said, I was ready for him.

  Then his eyes dropped to my lips and the angry glitter faltered, replaced by something softer that twisted my insides around. I fought to keep my glower in place, but when his eyes dropped even farther—to the place where my crossed arms pushed my breasts up into the vee of my shirt—and he swallowed hard, I knew the fight was lost.

  His gaze quickly took in the rest of my getup, dropping all the way to my toes, then working back up to my lips, as if he just now noticed I was dressed like a man. I had to smile because unless I was way off the mark, he wasn’t as uninterested in me as he claimed to be.

  I reached up and tucked a finger under his chin, guiding his gaze back to my eyes, which I was certain showed my amusement.

  “It’s your turn, cowboy. You have any response to that?”

  “To what?” He had the confused look of a man who’d been hit too many times in a bar fight, and wasn’t quite sure where he was anymore. I couldn’t help a little chuckle at his expense.

  “I can take care of myself? I don’t need your permission or protection?”

  His face deflated from confusion into frustration as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

  “Beth, darlin’, I have the highest regard for you a
s a woman. Any man would count his lucky stars to have you. But there’s no future for you and me.”

  That wasn’t what I’d expected.

  “I’m not here looking for a future. We can worry about that later. Right now the only future I’m worried about is keeping your neck out of a noose.”

  His eyes came up and met mine, and they were the saddest, most forlorn eyes I’d ever seen. Gone was the bravado. He was just a man. I wondered how long it had been since he hadn’t been alone, or if he’d ever really been loved.

  “Why?” he asked.

  That one word, and the anguish it held, made my heart squeeze. All I wanted was to take this big man in my arms and hold him close. But when I reached for him, he took a step back and pride flashed in his eyes.

  “That posse’s out hunting for me, and when they find me I’m a dead man.”

  I lifted my shoulders and let them drop. “Truth is, when I look at you, I see a good man who’s been done wrong. I want to help.”

  “You know nothing about me. I may not be guilty of the crimes Dawson and Dearborn accuse me of,” he paused and pointed at me for emphasis, “but my past is littered with plenty of unpleasantness. Trust me, Beth, your faith is badly misplaced.”

  I didn’t want to believe bad of him. I’d spent enough time learning how to read people that, despite his surliness, I was confident he was a good and decent man, simply struggling with an ugly situation. I’d seen him with his guard down, and he certainly had ghosts in his past, but I knew better than anyone how deceiving looks could be, and if Isaac wanted to compare our pasts, he’d probably be more shocked by mine than I was of his.

  “First of all, it’s my trust to place wherever I see fit. Second, it’s too late for your worry, anyway. I sent the posse in the wrong direction, and when they realize that and have to turn back, with nothing to do the whole trip but contemplate why I betrayed them, I’ll be in as much trouble as you are.”

  “If you were still there and not here,” he grumbled, “you wouldn’t have that problem. It was a mistake for you to follow me. I can manage on my own.”

  “So you’ve said already, and maybe I was hasty, but I have a bad habit of following my heart and helping people in need. I couldn’t let you take off alone without any food or water or weapons.”

  “I’ve seen worse times and survived.”

  I bit my lip, wishing I didn’t have to add to his trials, but there was no getting around it, so I just came out with it.

  “That’s good to hear because things are worse, now.”

  He raised a brow and frowned. “Oh?”

  “There’s a bounty hunter on our tail.”

  He did another circuit of pacing back and forth in the small space.

  “How do you know there’s a bounty hunter after us?” he shook his head, correcting himself. “After me?”

  “By now he’s after us. He caught up with me on the trail. He was part of the original posse and doubled back to follow me because he didn’t trust me. I may have given him the impression that I was after the bounty on you,” I glanced up into Isaac’s face, trying not to cringe before adding, “and I may have antagonized him by ambushing him in his sleep and leaving him hog-tied.”

  Thinking back on it now, it didn’t sound as good as it had felt doing it. In fact, it had probably not been wise at all.

  “You did what?” his voice rose in disbelief.

  “He’s a nasty fellow, and I just didn’t see any other options.”

  “Not hog-tying him was an option.”

  I shot him a withering look. “You weren’t there. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, I couldn’t just follow him, and I couldn’t lead him to you, and I couldn’t turn around and go home, knowing he’d hunt you down. So I took his horse and his ammunition, and made it more difficult for him to trail us. If we’re lucky, he’ll go the wrong direction and we’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not that lucky.” He paused and rubbed his chin in thought. “We’ll just have to find another way to get you home. Come up with a good story everyone will believe.”

  I scoffed at him. “Like what? How am I going to explain sending the posse in the wrong direction, and running after you in such a hurry? And hog-tying a bounty hunter?” I shook my head. “No, there’s no going back. I’ve dug my hole too deep. You’re stuck with me.”

  He dropped into a chair at the table next to the little potbellied stove. He dwarfed all the furnishings around him. I backed up the step that brought me to the bed, and sat there, watching him as he considered the table surface, deep in thought.

  His head came up moments later. “You’ll just tell them you wanted the bounty on my head to pay off your debt. You were so desperate to catch me yourself that you misdirected the posse, and took out the bounty hunter because he was competition. It may not be rational behavior for a woman, but you’re an uncommon woman, so it’s a believable story.”

  I pursed my lips in hopes he’d read my doubt, then stood and joined him at the table, sinking into the chair opposite him. “I don’t think even I could sell that story. Besides, if I head back now, I’ll just run into the bounty hunter, and that’s disaster waiting to happen.”

  Locking my gaze to his, I placed my hand on top of his on the tabletop. Mine looked so small next to his, but his skin was warm, and for some reason the size of his hand, and of him, made me feel like together we’d figure a way out of our predicament.

  His face softened as he turned his hand and took mine in his. “I just want you safe.” He lifted my hand to his lips and laid a gentle kiss on my knuckles that sent an exquisite shiver through me. “I can’t do what I need to do if I have to watch out for you, too.”

  I’d been distracted by the touch of his lips on my hand, and imagining those lips on the rest of me, but when I focused on his words, I grew suspicious of his intentions.

  “What do you mean, do what you need to do?”

  “I’m going back to finish Dearborn. I just need to get my hands on a weapon.”

  I yanked my hand from his. “What? I thought you left Palmer to save yourself. To start a new life somewhere else.”

  He shrugged. “I thought about it, at first.” Then his eyes came up and I saw the hatred and anger burning in their depths. “But I can’t run away from what they did to me. Even if I die doing it, I’ll defend my name.”

  I jumped up, knocking the chair backward and sending it clattering behind me, my own anger burning in my words. “You’re in that much of a hurry to get yourself killed? I didn’t give you Boreas, and risk my life and my friends’ lives, so you could turn around and jump right back into trouble.”

  “It’s my decision to make.”

  “Fine, then. If that’s what you want, I brought extra weapons.” I went to my pack and pulled the rifle from where I’d left it next to my things, and held it out to him. “Here. Now you’re all set. Go on.” I reached out and jerked the door open to the night, gesturing for him to be on his way. “Go find Clay and kill him. If he doesn’t kill you first, I’m sure Dawson, or somebody else, will.”

  My chest heaved with each angry breath. How could he not see how ridiculous it was to think he could go back to Palmer and, unnoticed, find Clay and kill him? He’d get himself killed before he even got close. Or worse yet, they’d capture him and hang him. Why was he willing to throw his life away like that?

  Isaac left the table and joined me, his gaze steady on mine as he reached for the door and closed it. Shaking his head as if he couldn’t understand why I’d be so concerned about him, he took the rifle and leaned it against the wall.

  “Beth,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “It’s a ridiculous waste,” I said, watching as he came even closer. With each step my heart beat faster, until he was so close he forced my back against the door. “Dearborn’s life isn’t worth yours, Isaac.”

  He braced his hand on the door above me, trapping me with his body, and leaned in so his face was inches from min
e. I felt the weight of his gaze on me, as he waited for me to acknowledge him. I wanted to, more than anything, but my pulse thundered in my throat, and I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to keep my hands to myself.

  I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath, then tipped my head back, resting it on the door behind me, and opened my eyes. With the light behind him, his eyes were shadowed, giving the impression of bottomless pools of darkness. My resolve faltered and, staring into those depths, I couldn’t quite grasp what I’d been so upset about just a moment ago.

  “And why would you care about the value of my life?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

  His warm breath brushed my cheek with each word, making me shiver. That close, his deep voice resonated in my bones, making it nearly impossible to focus on what he’d said. The heat of his body filled the space between us, and my fingers itched to touch him. His scent so full of wood smoke, fresh air, and warm linen, reminded me how long it had been since I’d been in the company of a man I found attractive.

  The signals between my brain and body were hopelessly confused. My brain told me that I should behave and maintain some sort of dignity, not to mention that he’d already given me mixed signals. I should tread carefully because Isaac was the kind of man who could undo all the hard work I’d done to build a new life. But he was also the kind of man who could steal my heart. My body ignored my brain completely and fought to be let loose to ravage him.

  I had no idea what would happen tomorrow, but I was tired of running and being afraid, of always being the responsible one, and of all the worry I’d had to shoulder since Frank died. I’d done it all willingly, but it was a daily challenge, and one that sometimes left me exhausted and wishing for more.

  At that moment I didn’t want to think about Carrington hunting us, or the posse realizing I’d lied, or the danger my friends were in. All I wanted was to disappear into the comfort of Isaac’s warm arms for a little while, and maybe prove to him that he really was worthy of having someone care about the value of his life. So I gave in and let my body take the reins.

  Placing my hand on his chest, I stepped into him, holding his gaze with mine.