Wild Western Women Ride Again: Western Historical Romance Boxed Set

by Kirsten Osbourne

  Stunned, he realized he really did want her to stay, and he wanted her to retain the rights to her store. He was leaning against his city council and more toward Abigail, and that could hurt him.

  “No one could tell me I’m breaking any laws.”

  “Nope. But you’d be more endangered for break-ins and robbery.” He didn’t like the idea of her being where he couldn’t get to her. Especially with idiots like Tim Barton so fearful she would lead the women against him.

  They rode along in silence for a few moments before she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “I’m looking at some property along the river that’s come up for sale. I’ve been considering moving my living quarters out of town.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I get tired of living above the saloon. It’s noisy and smoky. I guess I make a lousy saloon owner. It’s not something I enjoy doing.” If the saloon had not belonged to his father and put Jack through college, he probably would have sold it years ago. His brother had long ago walked away from the business, saying he wanted nothing to do with taking care of drunks. And Jack couldn’t blame him. After all, there were nights Jack felt the only ones who came into the place were the men who couldn’t make it another hour without liquor.

  “You went to college. Why aren’t you doing what you love?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “The saloon was my father’s, and I just hate to part with it. But I don’t enjoy the work.”

  They rode several more minutes before he finally pulled the buggy to a halt. “Here it is.”

  The land had splashes of bright yellow wildflowers with fading bluebonnets and Indian paints. The flowers waved in the wind like water ebbing and flowing. Big gnarled oak trees covered a section of the property, and in the back, he could see the Brazos River meandering like a lazy old man.

  He ground tethered the horses and then came around to help Abigail out of the wagon. He wrapped his hands around her tiny waist and lifted her to the ground. Just the act of touching her had his heart banging inside his chest like the bell from the church.

  She placed both of her hands on his chest, and when her feet touched the ground, she smiled at him in a way that sent his blood racing.

  Without thinking, he leaned down and covered her lips with his. She moved into his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck, as he explored her mouth. The woman fit perfectly beneath his chin, snug against his body, her breasts pressed against his chest, her center in the perfect spot.

  Suddenly, she stepped out of his arms, her breathing fast and shallow, and her eyes wide with wonder. “Those lips of yours are dangerous. They make a girl forget herself.”

  He laughed and lifted the picnic basket out of the wagon. “I’ve never been told that before, but it certainly does feed my ego. Glad to hear it.”

  “Of course it would. But then again, you men are so easy,” she said with a laugh.

  They walked up the small knoll to the top of the land, where they could see the river, and he placed a blanket beneath an oak tree. She sank to the ground and unloaded the basket. He dropped down beside her.

  “Bella is a great cook, so I know this chicken will be good.”

  “What kind of cook are you?” he asked.

  “The worst,” she said. “I think the food I fix is boring. For some women cooking comes natural, but not for me. What about you?”

  “I can cook. I took a lot of chemistry in college, and I think that helped my cooking skills.”

  “So why aren’t you doing what you love full-time?” she asked, handing him a plate loaded with chicken and bread.

  He shrugged. “The saloon put me through college. My father was a rough man, but he wanted his children to be educated. He only went to school through the sixth grade and insisted I attend college. But he wanted me to become either a banker or a businessman. While taking a science class one day, I fell in love with chemistry. Eventually, I narrowed it down to pharmaceuticals. The doctor tells the patient what kind of drugs they need, and I prepare the dosage for them.”

  While he’d been attending college, the field of medicine and pharmaceuticals seemed to explode with knowledge. Some of his professors had been physicians in the Civil War, and their knowledge of preparing medicines while out in the field was extraordinary.

  “You’re almost a doctor,” she said, gazing at him like he was the smartest man.

  In their small town, few people recognized his knowledge. After all, he was just the saloonkeeper’s son. Her praise made him feel ten feet tall.

  “I thought about studying medicine, but creating tonics and pills and cough medicine was so much more interesting. Now instead of owning a drug store, I hand out pills from the back of the saloon.”

  “That must be difficult. Running a business you don’t love.”

  “Yes, it’s a compromise. I’m doing what I enjoy, but I’m still working the saloon.”

  They ate their cold fried chicken with slices of homemade bread. Later, he opened the canned peaches, and they took turns eating the sliced fruit straight out of the jar. When they finished, she put everything back into the basket.

  “That was really good. Be sure to tell Bella thank you,” he said, lying back on the blanket, thinking how pleasant it was out here with Abigail. There were no worries, no pressure, and they’d not even discussed the upcoming decision regarding her store. It was just the two of them. There was something about this woman he really enjoyed.

  She lay back on the blanket and gazed up at the sky with him. “Look, that cloud is an angel with wings.”

  “How did you get that? I thought it looked like an Indian with a bow and arrow.”

  She laughed. “And that one over there is a birthday cake.”

  “Okay, I’ll agree with you on that one.” He rolled over closer to her, so wanting to pull her into his arms, but he didn’t want to seem too forward. Still, just the idea of her lying next to or on top of him was enough to have his manhood standing at attention.

  “Why have you never married?”

  The food in his stomach seemed to swell as he tensed. He didn’t like talking about his family. Not everyone had a happy home life. Yet, he couldn’t explain his views on marriage without telling her about his parents.

  “In college, I was determined to get my education to please my father. Afterwards, he died the first year I was home. I honestly believe he was just waiting for me to get home from school.”

  “Do you know how unusual it is for a man from a small western town to have attended college?”

  “Yes. Do you know how unusual it is for a woman from a small western town to have attended college?”

  She sighed. “I wanted to finish school.”

  Abigail’s father had been a good man. What she didn’t know was how long he’d been ill and had kept the knowledge from her, letting her stay as long as possible in Boston. He hadn’t sent for his daughter until he knew his time on this earth was almost over. Jack had admired the man. He’d always been fair and honest in his dealings with the people in town.

  “That doesn’t answer my question about why you’ve never married.”

  Like a miner, the woman was determined to unearth his reason.

  “If you notice, there are not a lot of single women in our town. And most men don’t want their daughters marrying the saloon owner.”

  She rolled over and faced him, her head resting on her hand as she half sat up, her shimmering blue eyes warm and soft. “There are other options. You could have gotten a mail-order bride. You could have gone to another town.”

  He shrugged and sighed. “My parents’ marriage was not a happy one. Remember the other night when you said something about the women in the café, how many would leave if they could? That would have been my mother. Your words perfectly described her life.”

  A frown graced Abigail’s beautiful face, and he could see she was concerned.

  “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay. My parents didn’t love on
e another. Before she died, she told me the only reason she married my father was to get away from her parents. She needed some place to go, and he was the only option.”

  Abigail closed her eyes and shook her head for a moment. “That shouldn’t be a woman’s only choice. She should have been able to take care of herself, made a living, and then if she wanted to, gotten married.”

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, gazing at her, knowing he was so attracted to her. He wanted to pull her down on the blanket right now and crawl over her and have his way with this luscious beauty. But that would be wrong.

  “Keep me in town, running my store,” she said gazing at him quizzically.

  “Did you send for the other women to come?”

  “Yes, and all of them are single. The town should soon be filled with women who want to marry and have children and own businesses.”

  He chuckled. “You’re going to keep me busy as mayor, aren’t you?”

  “If you keep that archaic law around, yeah, your life is going to be interesting.”

  Jack stared at her and rubbed his fingers along her cheekbone. Her skin was so soft and tempting. He pulled her head down to his mouth, where his lips plundered hers once again. This woman had the ability to rattle him clear to his bones. She was soft and tender on the inside and tough as nails on the outside, and he understood why. His own mother had been a victimized woman and been forced to accept a man she didn’t love as her husband.

  Abigail only wanted the ability to take care of herself. He liked her strong, stubborn attitude.

  He pulled back from the kiss and gazed into her dreamy eyes. “You know this is going to get us both into trouble.”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Especially if you vote to close me down. I can promise you I will never speak to you again.”

  Rubbing his hand through his hair, he wanted to promise her that would never happen, but he knew he couldn’t. “I’m the mayor, Abigail. I have to obey the laws of the town. I may not have any choice.”

  “And I want to continue the store my father built and devoted his life to.”

  How could he blame her? Wasn’t that the same reason why he’d refused to sell the saloon? It wasn’t that he enjoyed watching men fill themselves with liquor and stumble out the door. Sure, it provided him with a good living, but he would so much rather be creating tonics and medicines that would heal the town people, rather than doling out alcohol that would eventually rot their brains and stomachs.

  “How about you? Why have you never married?”

  “Never met a man I’ve fallen in love with. My mother died when I was really young, but from what few memories I have, I know my parents loved each other. And I know my dad still missed her after all these years.”

  “You were lucky,” he said, remembering the atmosphere of his family home during his childhood. “Watching people fight day in and out makes you think of only one thing, escaping.”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked.

  He grimaced. “Yes. I have one of each. My sister, she followed the pattern of my mother. She wanted out of the house and married a man she now hates. And my brother…my brother is married and has two kids. He seems genuinely happy. He even told me he loves his wife very much. I can see how my parents’ relationship affected all of us. It’s sad.”

  “But your brother is happy.”

  “Yes, but he hasn’t convinced me love is the answer. I think he may have just gotten lucky and found a woman he’s compatible with.”

  “No, I think your brother decided he wasn’t going to let his past affect him. He chose happiness.”

  Jack stared at her, tossing her comment around in his head. “I’m not unhappy. I like my life. I just don’t want to risk everything on a marriage that could turn out like my parents’.”

  She shook her head. “Not if you love the person you marry. That’s what my parents had, and I won’t settle for anything less.”

  What an inexperienced schoolgirl idea. Didn’t she know love was not real?

  Jack cared about his brother and sister. He wished them the very best and would do everything he could to help them, but he couldn’t say he loved them. The closest person he could say he’d loved was his mother, and that was only because he’d wanted her to be proud of him. But no other woman had ever made him feel the tender emotion, if it was even real.

  “But how do you know you’re in love? I wouldn’t have a clue what that emotion looks or feels like. It could walk up and slap me upside the head, and I’d just think I have a headache.”

  Plucking a piece of grass, she put the blade between her luscious lips and gazed at him. “My father told me it’s when you can’t stop thinking about the other person, and you want to make them happy. He said it’s when you’ll sacrifice your own happiness for theirs.”

  He carefully considered her words. The only example of love in his life was his mother’s love for her children. Even though she hated his father, she had loved each one of them and told them over and over how great they were and how they made her proud. She’d sacrificed for them, and he’d loved her with all his heart.

  “Me, I just need the perfect man, and I’ll be ready to fall in love,” she said, rolling back and staring up at the sky again

  Jack sat up laughing. “Now, that’s the response of a naïve girl. There are no perfect men and no perfect women.”

  She sat up and glared at him. “I’m not naïve. And yes, I know figuratively speaking there are no perfect men. But I want a man who can accept me for who I am. And I haven’t met one yet who didn’t have problems with my ‘radical’ ideas, as one suitor called them.”

  She stood and picked their picnic items off the blanket. “We need to get back. I don’t want the women in town joining the men’s side because they think I’m a loose woman.”

  He stood and helped her fold the blanket. “The men are worried. Their women are taking your side, and you’re messing with their home life.”

  “I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal that I own my family business. Would they rather I take up prostitution in order to eat? It’s just so ridiculous. Their wives would be in the same predicament if something happened to their husbands.”

  “The men see you as a threat. Their women are agreeing with you, and you want to change the way they’ve done business for the last thirty years in this town. You’re the unknown, and they’re afraid. The next thing you’ll want is to vote.”

  She laughed. “You are so right. I want to own a business, property, be able to get a loan, and yes, I want to vote. Why shouldn’t I have a say in who governs the city or country where I live? Maybe the war would never have happened if women had been in charge and didn’t want to see their husbands and sons killed.”

  Jack shook his head. “Do me a favor. Don’t ever say this to anyone else. Because if you do, I can guarantee you will never be allowed to stay in town. Let’s just work on getting you the right to own your family business first. Then later, after things have calmed down, you can tackle those other issues. But the men in this town are already afraid, and you’ll be run out of town if they learn what else you want.”

  She was looking at him strangely, her head tilted. “You just used the word ‘let’s’ like you plan on helping me. Do you mean to help me?”

  He took her in his arms. “Like I’ve said before, I’m the mayor, and I have to enforce the current laws. But yes, I think you should be allowed to own your family business.”

  She reached up and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. “Thank you.”

  Jack’s chest swelled, and he knew he had to get her back to town or do something entirely disrespectful like spread that blanket out again and take her right there beneath the blue Texas sky. This woman was tearing him up inside, and he didn’t know how to handle her. He’d never experienced this feeling before, and it frightened him.

  ***

  When he pulled the wagon up in front of the mercantile, the su
n was sinking into the western sky. The town was starting to close down for the night, and the saloon would soon begin its busiest time.

  “I guess I better get to work,” he said, helping her out of the wagon, “but I enjoyed the afternoon. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, but don’t you think the townspeople are going to start talking about us?”

  He laughed. “Honey, they’ve been talking about us since your father died.” He watched as her eyes widened in disbelief. “And another thing, stay out of my bar.”

  “Well, that’s not very inviting,” she said in a snit.

  “No, but I don’t want to give the church ladies any more reason to talk about us and even possibly shut me down.” In other cities, the women were doing their best to run the saloons out of town. He didn’t need the aggravation. In his saloon, if you got drunk, you were escorted out the door.

  “Oh,” Abigail said, walking toward the store. She turned and glanced back at him. “You know when you tell me not to do something, that just makes me want to show you I can.”

  “Okay, I’m asking you politely not to show up in my saloon again.”

  “That’s better. I’ll take it under consideration.”

  He grinned at her, shook his head, and clicked to the horses. The woman was next to impossible, yet he had this insistent need to spend more time with her. She was intriguing, thought provoking, and he’d never met another woman like her before.

  Chapter Seven

  Abigail walked into the store, shut the door behind her, and sighed. There were so many things about Jack Turner she liked. No man had ever sparred with her before, and she thoroughly enjoyed tangling with him.

  And the man’s kisses had her thinking thoughts no decent woman was suppose to have, yet her body seemed to gravitate toward him. When he kissed her, she wanted to rip her clothes off and let him have his way with her, and no man had ever interested her like that before. Never.

  Bella stood watching her. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes, thank you, I did,” Abigail said, removing her bonnet. “How was business?”