A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

by Harper St. George

  Derringer didn’t betray impatience in his voice or demeanor. Castillo’s only clue was the subtle tightening of the man’s finger on the trigger. In the split second it took for Castillo to make that assessment, he realized that Derringer held everything that had ever mattered to Castillo in his arms—his hopes and dreams for a better future. Because if Castillo walked out of that alley without her, he wouldn’t care about the hacienda or restoring the ranch to a profit. He only cared about Carolina. He wanted to know that she walked the Earth, that she was happy and cared for. In that moment, his quest for vengeance became a thing of the past.

  “Don’t hurt her, Buck. Please.” His voice shook a little and he sent up a silent prayer. Take me, not her. Please, God, not her.

  Derringer smiled, and then he laughed a little as if the joke was too funny not to. “Oh, I’m going to hurt her, Castillo. I’m going to hurt her so badly that she’ll wish she was dead long before I get to that part.” His eyes were cold under the brim of his bowler hat. He looked like madness. The wind picked up as if prompted by his words and blew through his shoulder-length, bright white hair.

  Castillo’s mouth went dry, but he knew if he dropped his gun he’d lose any chance he had to free her. “If you plan to kill her anyway, I’ll keep my gun.”

  Derringer glanced down at Castillo’s gun and back up before cocking his own gun. The metallic click sent a cold chill down Castillo’s spine.

  “Figured you’d prefer the fast way.” Derringer grinned and the muscle in his hand flexed.

  Castillo couldn’t get a clear shot, but that didn’t matter. He only had a second to act, so he launched himself forward, planning to plow into them. The bang of a gun firing sounded loud in his ears as he fell forward. Carolina screamed.

  Castillo landed hard on his knees, stunned that he couldn’t move forward and uncertain about what had happened. Derringer crouched before him, blood spewing from behind the hand that cradled his nose. He groaned like an old man in the throes of death, but Castillo couldn’t figure out how that had happened. Castillo hadn’t shot the man. Derringer had shot. He’d seen the flash of Derringer’s gun firing. The man still held that gun loosely as he cradled his nose.

  The ringing in his ears faded enough that he could hear Carolina calling his name. “Castillo!” She landed on her knees beside him. He tightened his grip on his gun and put his other arm around her, trying to get her behind him. A searing pain shot through his side, like he’d been stabbed with a hot branding iron.

  But he couldn’t pay attention to that. Derringer was coming back to his senses, lowering his hands to show a nose that was slightly askew and spewing blood. Castillo realized that Carolina must have hit Derringer in the nose as he’d fired, likely breaking it from the amount of blood that poured out. The man raised his gun, but Castillo raised his first and fired three shots to Derringer’s chest.

  Then it was over. Dear God, all these years his life had been put on hold as he searched for this man...and it was over. Derringer fell backward, his arms splayed out wide. Castillo could only stare at him and wait for the triumph to find him. It didn’t. It was over, and he felt relief, but there was no feeling of victory. Just a grim certainty that he’d accomplished his goal and a glimmer of satisfaction that Derringer would never hurt anyone else.

  Dimly, he became aware of the strength leaving his body, but he couldn’t focus on it. Caroline was at his side and her arms went around his shoulders. “Carolina,” he said her name over and over as he gathered her in his arms. “Forgive me. I didn’t know what was important until I saw him put that gun to your head. Please forgive me.”

  She clutched him back briefly and then tugged away to look down at his stomach. “We need to get you inside.” She looked down the alley toward the street and then the other way.

  “Carolina,” he said again, reaching for her face. His arms felt like lead weights and he didn’t understand why, but he needed to hear her forgive him. “Forgive me, please.”

  Her eyes shone with absolute terror when she looked at him. “Yes, yes, of course I forgive you.”

  He smiled and noticed how soft her skin was beneath his palms. “I love you.” Suddenly, his knees wouldn’t hold him anymore and he fell forward. She moved with him to brace his fall. The horrible pain shot through him again, twisting him up on the inside.

  “Cas!” Zane called to him, but his voice sounded far away.

  “Down here!” Carolina called back. She was hovering over him now, worried lines across her forehead. “Keep your eyes open. It’ll be fine, but keep your eyes open.”

  “What’s happening?” He should know. His ears still rang with the gunshot. Dammit. He’d been shot. The knowledge had been there all along, but he’d only just now allowed himself to recognize it.

  Panic overtook him that her train was due to leave soon and he might not see her again. “Don’t go, Carolina. Don’t get on the train.”

  “I won’t,” she assured him as she tore off a length of her skirt and wadded it up. “I’m staying here to take care of you.” She pressed it against the wound and he nearly came out of his skin from the pain.

  Zane ran up beside them followed by Hunter. “Let’s get him to Glory’s. She has a room, and it beats that damn butcher they call a doctor at the hospital.”

  Castillo nearly blacked out when they picked him up.

  * * *

  Castillo awoke to a room full of his family. Hunter and Emmy sat in a chair in a corner consoling each other, while Zane stared out the dark window and Tanner sat on a chair right beside the bed. But the most important person was Carolina and she was nowhere to be seen.

  “He’s awake.” Tanner’s proclamation alerted them all so that four sets of eyes turned to him.

  The room was sparsely furnished and clean, but he couldn’t place it. “Where am I?” he asked through a throat that felt like sandpaper.

  “Get him some water,” Tanner called to no one in particular, but Zane moved first, crossing the room to a table with a pitcher. “We’re at Victoria House.”

  Castillo laughed, but it hurt so he groaned instead. “I nearly die getting shot and you bring me to a brothel?”

  “Take it easy.” Hunter had walked to stand on his other side, opposite Tanner, and put his hand on Castillo’s shoulder to gently hold him still. “We brought you here so you could have a better doctor.”

  “Caroline patched you up, with the help of her father.” Tanner grinned like he was proud of her. “We didn’t know what to do...you lost so much blood, but she came in and had us all following orders. The bullet passed right through you, and she had you stitched up before your head hit the pillow.”

  “Where is she? Did she take the train to Boston?” He’d been so stupid to ever think his revenge was more important than her.

  “I’m right here, Castillo.” She stood inside the open door of the room. She was beautiful, her face beaming in the gentle glow of the light, but he immediately saw the blue shadows under her eyes. She was tired, and her hair was a mess, pinned up with tendrils falling down around her face.

  She was beautiful.

  “Carolina. You stayed.”

  She smiled as she walked over to him, taking Hunter’s place at his side and holding his hand. “You got yourself shot. Someone had to fix you.”

  “You stayed and you saved me.” He could hardly believe it.

  With her other hand, she touched his forehead, her fingers stroking his hair. “My father helped.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on her palm. “I was so stupid to let you go. When I saw him grab you, it became clear to me everything that I had to lose. I don’t want to lose you. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up to you every morning. I want to live my life with you. Say it’s not too late. I know I don’t deserve it after putting you in danger, b
ut I swear I’ll live my life making it up to you.”

  Her smile widened and tears formed in her eyes as she leaned over him. “It’s not too late. I want that too. I want to spend my life with you, Castillo.”

  Despite the pain, he pulled her forward until he could tangle his fingers in hair and take her mouth in a kiss again. She laughed but kissed him back.

  “I love you, Carolina.”

  Epilogue

  Three years later

  Caroline came to a stop at the open doorway of the study and took a moment to watch the man within. Castillo sat at his cherrywood desk with a single lamp switched on as he pored over the leather-bound ledger in his lap. Sitting with one ankle propped on his knee, he held it loosely in his grasp and mumbled something to himself as he made a notation on the paper. A strand of dark hair had fallen down across his forehead, but he brushed it back with his fingers.

  Her own desk sat adjacent to his, nearly unused since she’d finished her studies back in the spring. Textbooks were stacked on one side with a few patient files taking up the rest of the surface. She was generally able to finish her work before she came home from working at her father’s practice.

  “Did you miss me?” she asked, finally walking into the room.

  Castillo looked up immediately and closed the ledger when he saw her. “I didn’t hear you come in.” A smile softened his features, and he stood to pull her into his arms.

  Her arms went around him as she lifted her face for his kiss. She was usually home by dark, but as Caroline had been about to go home a father had brought his daughter in. The girl had taken his bicycle for a ride and without knowing how to properly operate it had fallen and fractured her wrist. Caroline had only just been dropped off at house she and Castillo rented.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said when he pulled back to look down at her.

  “You can make it up to me later.” He smiled suggestively.

  Caroline laughed, but his insinuations never failed to make her body come alive. She was already anticipating when they could go upstairs to bed. “Anything interesting happen today?” She nodded toward the ledger.

  His grin widened. “I’ve sold all the foals. There isn’t one left that hasn’t been accounted for.”

  While she’d been attending classes, Castillo had spent the past three years helping Hunter bring his prime horse stock to market here in Boston. Because of their superior performance in a few of the better-known races, Jameson horses had become something of a status symbol among the gentlemen in the highest social circles. “All of them?”

  “All of them,” he confirmed. “There’s a waiting list and deposits for the foals that’ll be born in the spring.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.” He’d been at loose ends a bit when they’d first come to Boston, reluctantly accepting the money her father had settled on Caroline to help them make it through that first year. But by the second year, they’d been able to afford a modest lifestyle with his income.

  He let out a little whoop and tightened his arms around her waist to lift her off her feet and twirl around with her. “If you’re proud of me now, just wait until we break ground on your new office come spring,” he teased, nipping at her bottom lip.

  She laughed and wondered how it was possible that she could be so deliriously happy. How had she been lucky enough to find him? He didn’t want to use her father’s money to pay for their living expenses, but he’d had no problem suggesting they dip into his mining income to build her a respectable clinic in Helena. Of course, his relationship with his father had improved a bit over the past three years. Tanner had come to visit them a couple of times and had welcomed Miguel at Jameson Ranch when he’d graduated and shown an interest in the business.

  As much as she loved her parents and was sad about leaving them behind in Boston, their family was in Helena and Caroline wanted to be there with them more than anywhere else in the world. Aunt Prudie had even indicated she’d be a frequent visitor when they moved and Caroline hoped her parents would follow suit. Her mother had come to like Castillo very much, and her father spoke often of retiring. Besides, there were few qualified physicians in Helena, and Caroline felt she could make a bigger impact there than in Boston.

  “I can best your new office,” she teased.

  His brow furrowed. “Impossible. You saw the sketches. It’s as fine as anything you can find here in Boston.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She shook her head for emphasis. She had no doubt the clinic would be the best in the state. They’d made sure it would be outfitted with the best equipment needed to cater to the medical needs of the women of Helena, along with the few brave men who might come to her for treatment. “I’ll have something even more amazing for you in the spring.”

  “What?” He clearly had no clue what she meant, so she decided to put him out of his misery.

  “A baby.” She couldn’t stop a gigantic smile from taking over her face.

  His face went completely blank, and then a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. His hands came up to cup her face. “A baby?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re certain?”

  She nodded again. “Positive. I waited to tell you until I was sure.”

  He stroked a strand of hair back from her face, and stared down at her as if she was the most precious thing in his world. Then that hand went down to her belly as if to check and make sure she hadn’t changed somehow since morning. She was only two months pregnant, so it’d be a little longer before he could feel it. He didn’t move his hand, though, and she covered it with hers.

  “A baby,” he whispered, his voice husky and reverent. “I can’t think of a better way to start our new life together.”

  She kissed him again, thinking that Aunt Prudie had been right all along. Her hope that things would work out had seen them through to this amazing life they’d created.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, you won’t want to miss

  this other great read from

  Harper St. George in her

  OUTLAWS OF THE WILD WEST

  miniseries

  THE INNOCENT AND THE OUTLAW

  and her dramatic Viking novels

  ENSLAVED BY THE VIKING

  ONE NIGHT WITH THE VIKING

  IN BED WITH THE VIKING WARRIOR

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MARRYING HIS CINDERELLA COUNTESS by Louise Allen.

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  Marrying His Cinderella Countess

  by Louise Allen

  Chapter One

  London, May 1816

  As the burning ball of the sun sinks into the shimmering azure of the Mediterranean and the soft breezes cool the heat of the day I lie in the cushioned shade of the tent, awaiting the return of the desert lord. The only sound besides the lap of the wavelets and the rustle of the palm fronds is the soft susurration of shifting sand grains like the rustle of silk over the naked limbs of...

  ‘Susurration... Drat!’ Ellie Lytton thrust her pen into the inkwell and glared at the words that had apparently written themselves. She opened the desk drawer and dropped the page onto a pile of similar sheets, some bearing a paragraph or two, some only a few sentences. She took a clean page, shook the surplus ink off the nib and began again.

  I can hardly express, dear sister, how fascinating the date palm cultivation is along this part of the North African coast. It was with the greatest excitement that I spent the day viewing the hard-working local people in their colourful robes...

  ‘Whatever possessed me?’ she muttered, with a glance upwards to the shelf above the desk.

  It held a row of five identically bound volumes. The gilded lettering on the red morocco spines read: The Young Traveller in Switzerland, The Youthful Explorer of the English Uplands, Oscar and Miranda Discover London, A Nursery Guide to the Countries of the World and The Juvenile Voyager Around the Coast of England. All were from the pen of Mrs Bundock.

  Her publisher, Messrs Broderick & Alleyn, specialists in ‘Uplifting and Educational Works for Young Persons’, had suggested that Oscar and Miranda might fruitfully explore the Low Countries next. Edam cheese, canals, tulip cultivation and the defeat of the French Monster would make an uplifting combination, they were sure.

  Ellie, known in the world of juvenile literature as the redoubtable Mrs Bundock, had rebelled. She yearned for heat and colour and exoticism, even if it came only second-hand from the books and prints she used for research. She would send young Oscar to North Africa, she declared, while secretly hoping that the Barbary corsairs would capture him and despatch the patronising little prig to some hideous fate.