Harlequin Historical February 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Texas Ranger's DaughterHaunted by the Earl's TouchThe Last De Burgh

by Jenna Kernan

  He’d taken a woman, not his wife, and he’d enjoyed it more than he’d enjoyed anything in his entire life.

  He’d lost complete control of himself and that meant there could be a baby. Laurie could lose everything or be railroaded into a bad marriage all because of what he had done. Would her father force him to wed her? The spark of hope that glowed inside him made him sick. Had he done this on purpose, hoping to drive her to him?

  If she had a child, she might be his. The hungry part of his mind instantly responded. He wanted her to have his child, wanted her linked to him forever. That way, she’d have to accept him, wouldn’t she?

  The thought shamed him. It was the woman who trapped the man with such a trick. He’d never heard of the reverse, but if it would get him Laurie...

  No.

  He ought to be horsewhipped. What kind of man was he to take a woman while she was under his protection?

  Certainly not the kind that would ever wear a star. And not the sort of man a father would choose for his girl. Boon felt his insides harden to stone as he recognized he’d never have a Ranger’s star and he’d never keep Laurie. He’d have a better chance of running for governor than winning either one.

  Beside him, Laurie’s breathing changed, but she settled back to slumber. Wrung out. She wasn’t used to outlaw camps or night riding or having a man throw her skirts up over her head.

  As if roused by his attention, Laurie startled, opened her eyes, blinked up at the bright perfect half-moon shining down on her face, making it ghostly white except for the dark bruise on her cheek. His insides twisted up like a wood shaving seeing what Hammer had done to her. Knowing he’d done worse.

  He watched the confusion knit her brow and then the wash of remembrance as her dark eyes grew so large he could see the white all the way around the iris. She exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut, as if trying to force back the recollection of what had happened to her since she left her mother’s arms.

  He did not think he could feel any worse until he saw her turn away.

  What had he expected, that she’d be happy to find a snake in her bed?

  Chapter Twelve

  Laurie felt Boon lying beside her, heard his breathing. The stillness and tension told her he was not asleep. Oh, what had she done? The last time she had been cajoled, coerced and persuaded. But not this time. This time she had begged him for it.

  Sleeping with Boon hadn’t proved to her that her past didn’t mark her. It had only revealed to him exactly what kind of a woman she was.

  She kept her hands at her side, knowing he stared at her, wishing she could cover her eyes, wishing she could disappear, wishing she could continue to pretend she was a lady, and not a...a...

  She turned her head away.

  Her wanton behavior had unmasked her. She was not and would never be that ivory, self-contained, respectable pillar of the community.

  What would become of her? She pictured herself hanging over a balcony, shouting lewd comments to potential customers. What else was there for a woman who could not keep from letting a man take her right out here in the open?

  She’d escaped Hammer. They were on the run. But even the danger of pursuit could not keep her from revealing her baser instincts.

  He reached for her. She stiffened but allowed him to gather her up. He rocked her back and forth.

  “Are you grieved?” he asked.

  “It was wonderful,” she admitted. “I never knew it could feel like that. But it’s still wrong, isn’t it?”

  It didn’t feel wrong to him. Everything about Laurie felt just right. “I dunno.”

  “You really think it doesn’t matter?”

  He knew what she asked. It did matter, deeply, but not for the reasons she believed. He cared because her past scarred her and that made him mad.

  “You got to quit blaming yourself.”

  “But I let him.”

  “Did you or did he take advantage of you?”

  She pressed closer, speaking into his chest as she nestled beside his heart.

  “Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened. Let me shoulder it for a while.”

  Oh, how she wanted to. Boon gave her a little squeeze and the words poured from her.

  “I held this secret so long and so hard it’s a wonder it didn’t choke me to death. Shamed me to the very core and still shames me. I was such a fool.” She met his eye again and didn’t look away as she spoke, her voice now heavy with resignation. “He was one of my father’s men. He told me not to tell anyone and I was fool enough to do as he asked. I found out later that he was already seeing the woman he married at the same time he took me out riding. I felt so stupid for believing him when he said he cared and for letting him do that to me.” Laurie glanced out into the night, her gaze taking her to some other time and place. Her voice had a faraway quality when she next spoke. “He didn’t see me again and I was glad. Then my mother told me he had up and married Gail Hampton. I avoided him, but he sought me out and he said if I told anyone it would be worse for me than for him. That no decent man would want me if they knew. And it’s true. I’ve been so afraid.”

  Boon listened with a sorrow and a rising rage at what had happened to Laurie.

  “That man is a scoundrel.”

  “And I’m a fool. I never told. I was so afraid my parents would turn me out.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  Boon could not prevent the sharp intake of breath and the exhale that was no more than a hiss.

  “He was?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “You were a child and no more at fault than a woman who was robbed.”

  “I could have fought him.”

  “Fought? No, you shouldn’t have to fight. The man was a villain. What’s his name?”

  That gave her pause.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Tell me, Laurie, or I’ll find out some other way.”

  She hesitated only a moment longer. “Anton Fischer.”

  “Good.” Up until this minute he’d never wanted to kill a man out of revenge. Now he did. He wanted to kill the man who hurt Laurie and he wanted to do it with his bare hands.

  But that would have to wait. Right now he had to tell Laurie that his recklessness might result in pregnancy.

  Boon rose from their bed and Laurie followed him, her skirts falling demurely about her ankles once more as she turned to fastening the buttons of her blouse.

  He knew he was not supposed to speak about such things to a lady. He’d been told you couldn’t even mention a woman’s legs without offending. So how did he broach this topic without getting his ears pinned back? He decided to go at it fast and hard.

  “Laurie, listen to me. I have to tell you something. You might be carrying my child.”

  Her head jerked up, meeting his gaze while her fingers remained motionless on the top button of her blouse. Her wide eyes showed white in the moonlight.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  She didn’t. One look at her startled expression that bordered on panic told him that.

  Sweet Lord, didn’t they teach girls anything? He thought back to the ones who raised him. Was it possible he knew more about women’s business than Laurie did?

  “Laurie, what we done, that’s how babies come, from a man and a woman, together.” He motioned his head back at the ground where they had lain together.

  Her hands rose to clasp her cheeks. “What...what do I do?”

  “Do? You do nothing. Just wait. If your monthly comes on time, you’re clear. You can forget me and what we done and go on and do as you please. If not, well, we got business.”

  She blinked at him. “Is that how I would know?”

  He gr
oaned. Why didn’t mothers give their daughters one bit of useful information where men were concerned? Then they wouldn’t be such easy prey for unscrupulous men, men like him.

  He thought back to the time Lottie got with child, reciting the symptoms from memory. “That’s the most important sign. Sometimes you throw up and such and some foods make you queasy, because the baby can make you sick for a time before you start to show.”

  She covered her eyes with her hands, rocking now, her elbows pressed tight to her sides as if already sick.

  He knew she was grieved. Didn’t blame her. She’d every right to hate him. She deserved better. He’d failed her and he’d failed her father, the man he’d sought to impress.

  Boon gritted his teeth as he retrieved his hat. By dishonoring Captain Bender’s daughter, he’d done the one unforgivable thing and would be lucky not to get shot over it.

  Coming to a stand, he scrubbed his face with his hands, his spurs jangling as he did so. His head sank. He’d not even taken off his boots. He’d treated her as

  the cowpunchers treated the women who had raised him—money exchanged, a quick poke and then a hasty goodbye.

  Laurie deserved so much better. Lord, he wished he were the man to give it to her.

  “I didn’t know,” she whispered.

  She met his eyes now, though her chin now trembled. He stepped forward to take her in his arms, but she retreated so quickly he paused, letting his arms drop back to his sides.

  Why was it that everything he said or did with her was wrong?

  “I’ll stand by you, Laurie.”

  She lifted a hand so the white of her palm nearly touched his face. “No.”

  Her quick rejection stung. “You gonna hide this like you hid the other?”

  She flapped her hands. “What choice do I have?”

  She could marry him. That thought made him sway. As if she ever would. As if the captain would permit such a match. He knew what kind of a man she wanted. Someone rich and respectable.

  “Fine. For now we’ll wait and see.”

  Boon glanced up, seeing the silvery halo above the cliff face behind them.

  “Moon’s up,” he said. “I best saddle the horses.”

  He retrieved one saddle and blanket, then left her by the stream. The horses hadn’t gone far. He saddled the little bay who had carried Laurie all day, cinching the girth and replacing the bridle, then looping the reins about a twisted mesquite tree before retracing his steps.

  “I’m going to wash my face,” she said, sweeping past him toward the stream.

  He heard her retreat down the hill, accompanied by the slide of the tiny rocks and gravel and then splashing as she reached the stream. He saddled the second horse and headed after her when his ears picked up another sound, the metallic spin of a spur.

  * * *

  Laurie left Boon by the horses and hurried toward the stream. She reached the bank, kneeling to wash her face with the cool water.

  She pressed her wet hands to her hot face, washing away the tears and the dust and the heartbreak. She thought of what he had told her. She might be with child. His child, the child of an outlaw. If she were, would this new life also be outcast because of what its father was and what she had done? Her parents would certainly disown her. Had this very thing happened to Boon’s mother?

  Laurie felt as if she were falling down a well deeper and deeper until she was so far down she knew she could never crawl out.

  What had they done?

  She heard the spin of the rowels of Boon’s spurs and turned toward him, bereft and empty as an open grave. She stared at his silhouette. Even in her dark musings she recognized that something was wrong. This man was too short, too stocky to be Boon. She stood in slow motion, clutching the open gap of her shirt, above the chemise against her throat. The scream was there, trapped inside her like a wild bird in a snare. Try as she might she could not release it. Boon, she needed to warn him, needed to run. But her legs seemed fixed to the stone beneath her feet. She was a deer, confronted by the wolf, looking death in the face.

  “Hello, Laurie. Hammer’s going to be real glad to see you.”

  She reached for her pistol at the back of her waistband only to remember that she had left it with her saddle. Trembling, she backed away toward the water.

  The outlaw advanced, as if in no hurry.

  Had he killed Boon? She’d heard no shot, but the killer had a long knife tethered in a sheath at his belt. That thought sent an earthquake of terror through her and she stopped retreating. If he’d harmed Boon she’d see that he paid. She went down on one knee, lifting a flat splinter of the bedrock up in her hand, using her thumb to judge the cutting edge and finding it sharp.

  The outlaw glanced about, the blue glint of steel showing from his pistol as he swept the clearing.

  “Where’s Boon?” he asked.

  Laurie had to shut her eyes against the relief. He hadn’t killed Boon.

  “Here, Freet” came the reply directly behind the intruder.

  The outlaw whirled and fired wild at the same instant Laurie saw the flash of Boon’s pistol and heard the second shot. Freet fell to his knees as the gun dropped to his side, then he toppled onto the bedrock.

  Boon ran forward, kicking the gun away then turning to Laurie.

  She ran to Boon, throwing herself against him. But he took hold of her with only one arm, keeping the other for his pistol as he pulled her against him.

  “You hurt?”

  She shook her head, then realized he had his eyes on Freet.

  “No,” she answered. “I thought he killed you.”

  “He ain’t that good. Came clomping up here on horseback. Step away now.”

  Boon kicked the pistol away and squatted beside Freet, rolling him over. The blood pouring from his chest glistened black in the moonlight.

  “Missed his heart. Lung shot.” He turned to Freet. “You alone?”

  The man nodded.

  “How far back?” he asked.

  Freet’s jaw moved but nothing came from his mouth but frothy, bubbling blood.

  Boon grabbed him by his vest and dragged him into the brush. A moment later Laurie heard Boon say, “That’s all the grave you merit, you son of a bitch.” He returned to Laurie. “Grab his pistol.”

  She did, finding the grip still warm. She gathered her clothing, dressing quickly as Boon collected Freet’s horse. Laurie carried his full canteen and heavy pistol as they made their way in haste to their horses.

  As Boon checked Freet’s horse and saddle, he spoke to Laurie. “Freet is a scout. They know which canyon we took and they’re behind us. When Freet don’t come back, they’ll pick up and ride hard.”

  “The trail is steep behind us.”

  “That’s all the advantage we got.”

  He left the rest unsaid. They were in trouble and it would be a miracle if they reached the station before they were caught by the Hammer.

  “It’s because we stopped.”

  “Had to or kill the horses and we couldn’t ride in full dark.”

  She glanced toward the brush, listening to the wheeze of Freet’s last breaths.

  “You saved me again,” she whispered.

  He grimaced. “Laurie, I...”

  His words trailed off. He stared at her with a look of such heartbreak she found herself holding her breath as anxiety coiled inside her.

  At last he said, “You ready?”

  Laurie exhaled. There was so much she needed to say, but there was no time to say it. She could see from his downcast expression that he blamed himself when she’d all but demanded he kiss her.

  And it had been wonderful. With Anton she’d been afraid, inexperienced, alone. Her encounter with Anton had been humiliating. But with Boon, the loving wa
s sweet and wild and full of wonder. If she were honest, she’d admit that she loved it and that made her everything she’d feared she might become.

  Boon chose Freet’s horse, tying his gelding behind Freet’s as she mounted up.

  “Once we climb out of this canyon, we’re going at a gallop until we make the station or one or all three of these horses drop.”

  Laurie nodded her understanding and gathered the reins, grateful for her father’s lessons on horsemanship.

  The next few hours were a blur of motion and changing light. The moon set, casting them in near darkness and slowing their pace to a walk. At last the sky brightened to a deep midnight-blue and she could again see the landscape about them. They were loping along when the sun rose. Her relief at the sun’s appearance quickly abated as temperatures rose and the dry heat blazed off rock and canyon.

  By midmorning, her mare began to wheeze, her sides glistening with sweat. Boon pulled up to change horses, remounting his chestnut and seating her on Freet’s horse, then tying her mare behind.

  Perspiration poured off Laurie, as well, rolling down her back and between her breasts. She felt her skin burning in the midday sun for she never went out without both bonnet and parasol. But she had never before ridden for her life.

  Finally, they came to a real road, the road from Fort Concho to San Antonio, the road that held the stage station—rarely used any longer now that the railroad stretched from Texarkana all the way to El Paso. But the mail still came through this way, bringing packages periodically to the outlying settlements. She craned her neck but could not see anything past the horse before her and Boon’s back, hunched over the neck of his mount. A glance behind showed no sign of pursuit, but black clouds were sweeping in from the south. Beneath the storm clouds, the gray sheets of rain curtained the road.

  Not long afterward, the rumble of thunder reached her and soon after that, Boon began to slow. She spotted the long stable that looked large enough to house a team of six to ten horses. Laurie noticed the squatty little station beyond the stable, also built of adobe bricks without any plaster. The station was a singularly unappealing building that looked like a broken pot butting up against a steep incline. This structure served as a rest stop for passengers and as a residence for the stationmaster. The yard was empty and the stable roof had collapsed in the forward inside corner. Clearly, this structure had seen better days.