A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

by Harper St. George

  He shook his head, one side of his mouth tilting up in a smile that was everything sensual. “No, you’re not.” Then his gaze dropped to her mouth. She could feel it tracing the contours of her lips.

  “I am,” she repeated, licking her lips, unable to stay still under his scrutiny. “But I can’t seem to stay away from you.” That last came out on a breath.

  He dragged his gaze back to hers and something nearly tangible leaped between them. It was so potent that she had to look away before she said something else that she probably shouldn’t. Something like how much she wanted to kiss him.

  “Would you mind sharing what happened to your grandfather?”

  He shifted, looking off toward the mountains, and it was a few minutes before he spoke, keeping his gaze on the horizon. “Derringer was an investor. He claimed to be from California, but I doubt he’d ever set foot there. He came recommended by someone my grandfather respected, a neighboring rancher who’d done business with the man. He visited us for a couple of weeks. Was knowledgeable about cattle. Ours weren’t hardy and had been dying from disease. The cows had stopped having calves. Even the first-year heifers weren’t producing the next year.”

  He ran the back of a gloved hand over his forehead. She wondered if he was remembering the despair and frustration that situation must have caused him and his family. “Derringer talked of a new breed of cattle from California. This new breed was resistant to all disease. I didn’t know it at the time, but my grandfather gave him money to buy a new herd.”

  Caroline didn’t know anything about cattle, but she knew a little about disease. It was unlikely an animal would be born impervious to disease. There was inoculation, but that wasn’t the same thing as what he was describing, and she didn’t even know if such a thing was being done to cattle. Her stomach churned with the fear that they’d been betrayed. “The herd never came?”

  “He took the money. My grandfather went to the authorities and about a week later I woke up one night to our house on fire.” He took a deep breath. She could hear it over the plodding of the horses’ hooves and closed her eyes because she didn’t want to know what she knew he would say next. “He died in the fire. At times I still smell the smoke.”

  “Oh, dear God, Castillo, I’m sorry.” She raised her hand to her mouth, while in her mind’s eye she imagined that horrible night.

  He nodded to acknowledge her words, but he kept his gaze on some point in the distance. “Derringer was there that night. He was angry that we’d gone to the authorities. He’d figured no one would pay attention to an immigrant, but my grandfather was respected in the area. Derringer wanted to silence him.” Castillo sighed. “We nearly caught Derringer that night, but in the madness he got away while my home burned to the ground.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. Her life in Boston seemed so...so protected and privileged after hearing his story. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like to lose someone close to you and your home in the same night.”

  He looked toward the hills on his left, away from her. The river was coming into view, a silver ribbon reflecting the sun as it wove out through the green field before disappearing into the mountains again.

  “Of course you can’t. No one should have to imagine that,” he said after a moment. His gaze turned to the river.

  “I hope you find Derringer.” And she meant it. She hoped with all her heart that he’d find the justice he sought.

  Castillo gave her a long look, filled with intensity but completely unreadable. She opened her mouth to tell him that she understood. That she wanted to help him, but was interrupted by one of Emmy’s sisters running toward them.

  “Cas! There’s a snake. Come look!” The girl looked entirely too pleased with herself for someone who’d just seen a snake before she ran back toward the river.

  Castillo smiled and dug his heels in to make the horse go faster, following the happy girl.

  Caroline continued at her sedate pace, stunned in the knowledge that she’d been just moments away from releasing him from their deal. If he didn’t have to spend so much time pretending to court her, he’d have more time to look for Derringer. Right?

  But then where would she be when she returned home to Boston? She’d be facing a future where she was at the mercy of a husband who almost certainly wouldn’t allow her to pursue her profession. She’d already met the entire crop of suitors her mother had in store for her, and not one of them had interested her. They’d all seemed very foppish and vain.

  If she married one of them, it could be disastrous. Aunt Prudie had warned her many times about the importance of marrying the right man. Caroline didn’t know very much about Aunt Prudie’s marriage, but it had never seemed to be a particularly happy one. She and her husband appeared to be little more than distant strangers who occasionally shared the same social engagements, which was the primary reason Caroline didn’t want to marry a stranger herself.

  Aunt Prudie had once said that she should make sure to find an honorable man with a gentle temperament. It was a funny twist of fate that she had found that man, and he seemed to be the one most ill-suited for her.

  Chapter Eight

  Caroline Hartford had enchanted him. There was no denying it anymore.

  After dinner that night everyone retired to the gold salon where the tall French doors had been opened to allow in the cool breeze blowing over the mountains. The sun had just set, leaving the horizon with a burnished glow directly at odds with the bright stars struggling to shine in the velvet eastern sky. As beautiful as that sunset was, Castillo was having trouble pulling his gaze away from Caroline to properly enjoy it.

  He’d been captivated by her on the train. And then annoyed with her when he found her here and she’d offered that proposal. But then—though he couldn’t say when it had happened—he’d started to become captivated by her again. She sat across the room on the settee next to Tanner, discussing her plans for the future. He’d tried not to listen, but her voice kept drawing him in. It wasn’t the sound of her voice, though that was pleasant...soft, with enough of a husky timbre that it spoke directly to his baser instincts. It was her words and the conviction with which she said them.

  She knew what she wanted to do with her life, and it wasn’t at all what anyone else in her position would want. She didn’t value marriage, not the way his mother had. His mother had been crushed when she’d been abandoned by Tanner. Some of that had been heartbreak, but Castillo had come to realize that much of it was because the life she’d imagined for herself had been taken away.

  Marisol Reyes had been raised by very conservative parents, and that meant her only calling in life was to be a wife and mother, to be obedient to the needs of her family. A caretaker of her family who ran an efficient household. She’d never had a chance to develop interests beyond anything domestic, and truth be known, as he thought back, Castillo wasn’t certain she’d have wanted anything more. She’d been the perfect mother.

  Caroline was different. Her family was affluent. She could’ve been just like all the other women in her life, content to allow her future to be planned for her. Content to follow her given role in society. He’d seen those women in Boston and had met a few during his visits to Helena once he’d been recognized as Tanner Jameson’s son. Not one of them had intrigued him like Caroline did. She wanted more. She wanted control of her destiny. There was something about that independence he found appealing.

  No one understood it better than Castillo. His destiny had been planned out for him from the start and he’d been trying to take back control ever since. The Reyes hacienda was his destiny. But with his grandfather gone, he was struggling to make it his.

  “Yes, I’ve been influenced greatly by Dr. Mary McLean. I was fortunate to attend a lecture she gave last year. She’s a fascinating person,” Caroline was saying, raising
her glass of champagne.

  Amelia, the eldest Bonham girl, played a soft tune on the piano in the corner, offering a pleasant, melodious backdrop for the evening. Castillo looked outside and caught a flicker of light in the distant hills. It disappeared too quickly to be a fire. Was it a flicker of the dying sunset against a piece of metal—or a signal?

  “You certainly sound as if you’re set on this plan,” Tanner remarked.

  “Oh, I’m quite set on this. I hope to run my own practice someday. I think there are strides to be made yet in the area of women’s health.”

  “As long as you stick to females and young children, and avoid taking on male patients, you’ll do fine. I’m certain of it.” This was said by Mr. Bonham, who’d just walked back into the room after smoking his after-dinner cigar on the veranda.

  Castillo whipped around to gauge Caroline’s reaction. She was as elegant as usual, her spine straight, shoulders back. She’d changed from the dress she’d worn on the picnic into a pale-green evening gown. The hair piled on top of her head shimmered like liquid gold in the candlelight. She made her expression deliberately bland, but something burned in her eyes.

  “Why do you say that, Mr. Bonham?”

  “Because it’s less challenging. Caring for women and children is a fair extension of the woman’s role at home with her domestic duties. Continuing that role outside of the home will be challenging enough to keep you occupied without overly taxing the intellect.” The bastard actually grinned as if he was explaining a well-known fact to a child or someone of lesser intelligence.

  “Now, Bonham,” Tanner said before she could answer. “While there are a few notable differences between the genders, human anatomy is much the same between them. Disease doesn’t discriminate.”

  Bonham shook his head and sank down into the chair next to the settee facing the piano. “But it does. The same disease works much differently in the male anatomy. We’ve a much stronger constitution.” Looking back at Caroline with that indifferent smile, he continued, “You’ll learn all about that in your studies.”

  Castillo couldn’t hold silent any longer. He’d never read a book about human anatomy or disease, but even he knew Bonham was talking nonsense. He itched to put his fist through the man’s smile, but thought Tanner might not appreciate the violence. “Miss Hartford has spent her entire life studying under her father. You’re a banker. She knows far more about the subject than you ever will.” Castillo turned his attention to Caroline. She had a little smile on her face and the anger had left her eyes. “Come walk with me, mi corazón?”

  Her mouth dropped open, much like Bonham’s, except hers changed into a smile while Bonham kept opening and closing his mouth as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to say. Caroline quickly regathered her wits and rose to her feet, setting her champagne down on the spindly side table. Castillo deliberately ignored the smile on Tanner’s face as he held out his arm to her. She slipped her small hand through it and he led her out to the porch.

  “What an ass,” he muttered, keeping his gait calm and steady as he led her on a walk around the veranda.

  “It’s fine.” There was a smile in her voice.

  “No, it’s not fine. To imply that you—”

  “Castillo.” She placed her hand on his forearm, drawing his attention. “It really is fine. I’ve been dealing with that sort of ignorance for my whole life. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

  They’d come to a stop around the corner of the house. The soft music from the piano still reached them here and a lantern hung from the rafters, flickering softly. The cadence of Tanner’s voice along with the occasional word could be heard coming from inside, but they were nearly alone. She was beautiful, smiling up at him, and she was all that he could see.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth and the small white teeth pressed gently against her lush bottom lip. The blush over the soft curve of her cheekbone. The small nose with the delicate, gold-rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge. Everything about her was delicate. Everything except her height. The top of her head caught him at his chin, when he was accustomed to most women being far shorter.

  He liked it, though he had no reason to pay attention to anything about her enough to like it. This courtship was a farce. “Anymore? It doesn’t bother you anymore?” he asked, because he’d been staring at her for way too long.

  “There was a time it bothered me.” She nodded. “I’ve heard it all, from how it’s not fair to the patients because I’ll almost certainly faint at the first unsightly lesion I see, to how my female brain is too small to comprehend everything I’ll need to learn. I couldn’t understand why anyone would think that way. I’ve spent so many hours learning under my father that I know as much as he does in some areas. I know more than the people saying those thoughtless things. Eventually, I realized that it doesn’t matter what they think. They hold on to their prejudices because it comforts them in some way. I don’t claim to understand it, but I know that I can’t dissuade them with words. Only my actions can prove them wrong.”

  “But, Carolina, he just said your intelligence was inferior.”

  She shrugged. “I know, and I also know he’s wrong. I can’t go battling every ignorant comment. Believe me, I’ve tried and it’s exhausting. I do feel sympathy for his daughters, though.”

  His gaze had settled on her clear blue eyes. They shone with intelligence and warmth. He couldn’t believe that she could be so calm when anger still swelled within his chest trying to force its way out. The only way to assuage it would be to go back in that room and confront Bonham, but Castillo wouldn’t ruin the rest of the week. There were still days until the wedding.

  But then she tightened her grip on his forearm, her fingertips pressing gently into his flesh. Her touch was warm and reassuring through the fabric of his coat and shirt. Immediately, all the blood in his body took a drastic turn south.

  “Thank you for standing up for me. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”

  He sucked in a breath to cool the heated blood in his veins. It didn’t help. He merely pulled in her lavender scent, which was mixed with something that he couldn’t identify. Something feminine and sweet. A scent that was hers alone.

  An image of her pale skin glowing in the darkness of his room flashed through his mind. He was licking that scent from her skin, tasting her, shattering her composure. He moved his hand to the railing, dislodging her touch as he stared out across the field and tried to scrub the image from his mind. He replaced it with memories of that time he and Hunter had been holed up in a muddy canyon for two days with no food, in the cold rain, while being shot at relentlessly. It helped, but only a little.

  “It’s ignorance—like you said. I’m sorry you have to deal with that.” And this is why she was so worried about marriage standing in her way. If she married someone with Bonham’s attitudes there wasn’t any way she would be attending school. Of course, he knew many people felt the same. Except that he’d been too much in his own world the past few years, obsessed with finding Derringer and earning money to resurrect the hacienda, and he’d stopped interacting with society. He tightened his hand on the railing. Perhaps she wasn’t that much different from him. She was fighting for something she wanted against a world that seemed intent on making it tougher for her.

  He blew out a breath, the dark, looming shadows of the hills in the distance drawing his attention. There was that flicker of light again. Definitely a signal. They’d had men take watch over the east field and west field. Was it one of them? He’d need to check it out before heading upstairs to bed. He was tired and was scheduled to take over the watch well before sunrise. Playing suitor and tracking Derringer was proving to be exhausting work.

  “Does that light mean something?”

  He whipped his head around. She was looking out toward the same light he’d seen, her brows knitted together.
<
br />   “No.” It was an automatic response. He could simply tell her that it was likely a signal that one of the men on watch had found something. But he still couldn’t trust her completely. He’d been keeping things quiet for so long in his quest to find Derringer, he wasn’t certain he’d ever be able to trust anyone outside of his small circle of brothers ever again. “Why would it mean something?”

  She shrugged. “You tensed when you saw it.”

  Mierda, she was observant. She hadn’t mentioned it, but she’d noted the weapons on their ride today. Her brows had knitted together like now, like she was trying to figure him out. He’d have to be more careful. There was no sense in creating panic when he didn’t even know if Derringer had his sights set on the Jameson Ranch. The ass would be stupid to target it. It was common knowledge that it was well protected. “I’m always tense.” He tried to smile but failed miserably.

  “Maybe, but that’s not it. You were tense on the picnic today, too. And while it’s true this is my first visit here, I don’t think it’s normal to travel to a picnic at the river armed with a rifle and at least one revolver, not to mention the guns Hunter carried.”

  “Never hurts to be cautious.” Even he could admit that was a weak argument.

  “Cautious?” She turned to face him, leaning her hips back against the railing. It seemed so natural to put his hands on either side of her, to lean in, that he almost did that, catching himself just in time. “Do you think we’re in danger?”

  He took in a deep breath. He was in danger right now. His gaze darted down to her mouth and she licked her lips, as if getting them moist for him. His brain stuttered over some way to allay her fears without raising her suspicions even further, but her next words ground his thoughts to a complete halt.