by Reece Butler
Four long days and wondrous, too-short nights had passed since Ace discovered Jessie in the hot spring. Ace acted as if nothing would ever change, that he’d have the best of both worlds. A wildly eager woman to share with his partners. Come morning, she was an equally eager ranch hand. Yesterday she laughed when Ace finally used his lasso to catch something that moved. It didn’t matter that the calf, startled at being interrupted as it walked to the river behind momma, easily shook off the rope.
Sin knew the dream would soon crash, so he cherished every hour. He prayed they would live through the aftermath when Ranger finally came to see why Jessie hadn’t moved in after her three weeks were up.
He lifted his head as pounding hooves approached. He picked up his rifle and stood beside the window. The early September sun was fading, the sky turning from rose to purple. He recognized Trace’s horse. The paint’s white patches were easy to see in the dusk. Other horses, too many of them, followed.
Time to pay the piper.
* * * *
“Trouble?” asked Ace. When Sin cursed, Ace moved to stand beside him.
“Maybe,” replied Sin. “It’s the Elliotts.” He looked closer. “And the MacDougals.”
“I could see Ranger stopping by to see why Jessie was still here, but why the others?”
Ace frowned and rubbed his jaw. He looked at Jessie, still sleeping, naked under the quilt. He didn’t want anyone walking in and finding her there. He didn’t mind letting everyone know she decided to stay for a while, and why, but it would embarrass her to be found asleep and naked in his bed. He didn’t consider her a loose woman, but others might not see it the same way.
“Let’s meet them in the yard.”
They replaced their rifles and left their gun belts on the table with Henry’s cooling stew. Ace stepped out first, then Sin and Henry. Eight horses lined up in front of them. Eight men looking like they wanted to take someone apart. Ace nodded like a good neighbor though he couldn’t understand why they glared at him.
“Something I can do for you gents?”
“We’ve come for Jessie. Three weeks was up four days ago.”
Ace recognized Ranger as the speaker. The hair on his neck rose when a darker-skinned man suddenly held a long blade and tilted it to catch the last rays of the sun. That would be Ross, also known as the Devil MacDougal. Having lived with his Indian relatives for years, he was known to be deadly with a knife, gun, rope or his bare hands.
“She decided to stay on a while,” said Ace.
“She? So you admit Jessie’s female. Where is she?” Trace’s growl was more grating than usual.
“Sleeping.” Ace looked from face to face. “What business is it of yours?”
“Do ye know the lassie’s name?” asked Gillis MacDougal in icy tones. Ace had met the man a number of times. He was two inches taller and far wider, with a temper to match his fiery hair.
“She’s Jessie Bonham.” Ace turned to Ranger. “What the hell is this all about? She’s well over twenty-one and whatever she does is her bus—”
“She’s our sister,” said Ranger.
Ace closed his mouth. His heart pounded, but he couldn’t run anywhere with eight armed men facing him down. Not that he’d run from anything in his life.
“Her name is Jessamine Bonham Elliott.” Ranger scratched his chin as if they were discussing which horse to ride. “I’m guessing she didn’t mention that last name.”
“No,” said Ace hoarsely. He locked his knees to keep from reeling as blood drained from his head. This time, it wasn’t heading for his cock. He couldn’t think, much less plan a response. Jessie, an Elliott?
“Wake the lassie, dammit, so we can take her home!” roared Gillis.
Ranger stuck a finger in his ear and shook it. “After that bellow, I expect there’s no need.”
Ace heard the door open behind him. He didn’t turn. Please, let her be dressed. The drag of a quilt on the wood porch, along with the sudden appearance of eight pistols, a yard-long claymore, and a knife or two, proved his wish didn’t come true. He held himself straight and very, very still.
“Nice seeing you again, Jessie,” said Jack. Ever eager for trouble, he grinned and tipped his hat. “Got anything on under that quilt?”
“What are you doing here, Jack?” She looked around and gasped. “Is everyone here? One, two, three, four—what’s going on? Dammit, I can take care of myself!”
Ace groaned quietly as Jessie told off the eight men who must weigh fifteen or twenty times more than herself. The men who would have his balls strung up like—no, they’d do to him as they did to bull calves. One slice and he’d sing soprano. He pressed his knees together.
“Obviously, we think you can’t,” said Simon.
“Get dressed, Jessie,” ordered Trace.
She gasped. “Your beautiful voice, it’s gone!”
“Old news,” he growled. “Get a dress on. You’re coming to the Rocking E.”
“No!”
“What do you mean, no? You’re staying with Beth until the wedding.”
“Wedding? I’m not getting married!”
“Yes, you are!” chorused the men around Ace. Even his partners joined in. The truth finally sunk in. He’d be forced to marry the very woman who was the anathema of proper behavior.
“Why do I have to get married just because I had some fun? You all did it lots of times, and you never married. Why, Ranger, I remember a redhead—”
“Shut up, Jessie,” ordered Ranger.
“Don’t tell my fiancée to shut up,” ordered Ace.
He was a Langford. Langfords were gentlemen. They might gamble their estates into deep debt and carouse with expensive whores, but if they debauched a virgin of quality, they married her. He’d felt no maidenhead the first time he took Jessie, but she’d been riding rough all her life. No wonder she didn’t know how to kiss. She’d learned bloody fast, though. And then she demanded more from Sin and Henry.
He turned around and finally saw her. She likely thought the faded old quilt made her look decent. All he could think of was the naked woman underneath and how one tug would reveal everything. Not the best thing to think of when surrounded by an ex-virgin’s well-armed, angry brothers.
“Shut up, Jessie,” he said.
“I’m not your fiancée, Mr. Kendrick bloody Langford!”
“Because you are a woman of good birth, unclothed, in my home, you’ve been compromised. That means we’re getting married.”
“Compromised?” Her voice went up an octave. “If I’m compromised for being naked, what do you call what we’ve all been doing the last four days and nights?”
“What the hell!”
All eight horses milled around, some of them rearing in reaction to their riders’ sudden tension.
A cold barrel at his neck and an ominous click made Ace freeze. Since he faced the house he saw Ross MacDougal’s knife at Sin’s throat. Ranger covered Henry with a pistol. Ace felt a need to laugh uproariously at the tableau they must make. It was almost like a pantomime presented at the Haymaker Theatre in London. If a wife was to be forced on him, he’d damn well enjoy the farce.
“What,” rasped Trace in Ace’s ear, “did you do to my sister?”
“I made Jessie very happy.” Ace turned his head just enough to catch Trace’s eye.
“And Henry and I made her even happier,” added Sin. “As often as we could.”
Silence, except for noises made by horses and night birds, descended on the yard.
“Argh, you men make me sick!”
Jessie stomped off the porch and across the yard toward them. Though she was barely covered, every inch of her radiated disgust. She stopped in front of Ace.
“Trace, take your gun from my boss’s neck. Thank you for the thought, Ross, but I like Sin’s blood inside his body. The rest of you, put up your guns.”
Trace glared down at Jessie. She scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue at him. His moustache twitched. He snorte
d. After a small shove against Ace’s skull with the barrel in warning, he returned the gun to his holster. A thin trail of blood seeped from Sin’s neck into his shirt when Ross pulled back.
The fact that Jessie, all one hundred pounds of her, could control these men made Ace realize he needed some lever over her that her brothers didn’t have. Sex? Yes, he could live with that. She had enough passion to need lots, and lots, of sex. Luckily, he had two partners to help keep her in line.
“Did you call me your fiancée because my brothers forced you?”
Jessie’s big eyes looked up at him. Yes, or no, each had pitfalls too great to get into tonight.
“Of course not.”
She relaxed.
“I did it because I lust after your body.”
“Wrong answer!”
Trace’s words were followed by a blast of pain in his temple. His legs buckled, and the world turned black.
Chapter Eighteen
“If you killed my boss, I’ll never speak to you again!”
“He’s not your boss, he’s your fiancé, soon to be your husband,” said Ranger.
“The way you screech, that’s no threat,” said Trace.
She growled and kicked him in the knee with her bare foot. He didn’t budge, just smirked. Ace was down for the count, so she turned to the others. A very surprised Ross held himself erect. Sin, grinning proudly, held Ross’s knife against his own throat. Henry scowled, his hands in the air due to the pistol Ranger aimed at his head.
Trace looked down at Ace, sprawled in the dirt. “He took responsibility for his actions, so we can’t kill him, dammit,” he said. He looked at Ross. “Maybe you could slice off something unimportant, just as a reminder. An ear, or his left testicle.”
“You still have no sense of humor, Trace Elliott!”
“And you’ll be a widow before you marry if he can’t keep his pecker in his pants.” Trace nudged Ace in the ribs, none too gently, with his boot.
“We respect Jessie to make her own decisions, even if none of you do,” said Sin in a cold voice. He pressed the knife in, just a bit. Ross gritted his teeth but didn’t attack. Sin stepped back and lifted the weapon. He held it out, hilt first, to Ross. Both men now had a thin trail of blood on their necks.
“I say she deserves all three of them,” said Ross. He wiped the tip of his knife on his pants and made the blade disappear. Sin braced when Ross’s fist came at him, but didn’t defend himself. Ross slowed his punch and hit Sin hard in the shoulder. Sin grunted but didn’t move.
“Saturday,” growled Trace. “In front of Baldy’s Saloon. One on one.”
“We’ll be there,” said Sin.
“You idiots!” Jessie glared at the ten men standing around her. Most of them smirked or laughed, eyeing her reaction.
She knew what would happen. They’d beat the tar out of each other, get drunk, and be best buddies. The women would have to take care of things while the men had their play. Damn if she’d mend any of them!
“If you damage certain parts of the Double Diamond men, I’ll get you back.” She looked at each Elliott and MacDougal, meeting their eyes one by one. “Do you understand?”
She’d done stuff to them over the years, things only a woman would think of. She couldn’t best them physically, so she found other ways. Little things, like sewing all their drawers shut. They either had to borrow a pair, which made them shudder, or get the inside of their thighs and other parts chafed as they rode all day. A couple times she soaped their socks. She only put itchy powder in their clothes once, because it transferred in the wash. Since she and Sunbird washed their own clothes, the women were the only ones not itching. The MacDougal got hives, and she got whipped for endangering the Clan. A man couldn’t wage war and protect his Clan if he was scratching, according to The MacDougal.
“You hear that, boys?” said Ranger. “It’s okay if they can’t walk, talk or see, but make sure their cocks work just fine.” He slapped Henry on the back, almost knocking him over.
“Likewise,” drawled Sin.
“You had supper yet?” Henry examined his nails as if the answer didn’t matter.
“Nope,” said Nevin, speaking up for the first time. “The Elliotts appeared on our doorstep before we could eat.”
“Lots of antelope stew to go around. I could make biscuits and gravy to stretch it.” He looked pointedly at Ace, still out cold. “Since you’ll soon be family, I won’t put out the good china and silver.”
Ranger had a good idea all they had was tin plates, and not enough of them to go around. He appreciated the attempt at humor, even though he was still ready to geld all three of them.
“Did Jessie make the stew?” asked Ranger. She stuck out her tongue at his insinuation.
“Henry knows his way around a stewpot,” said Sin.
“In that case, we’ll unsaddle the horses.”
Ace groaned at their feet.
“What about Mr. Kenrick bloody Langford?” Jessie nudged him in the thigh with her bare foot. He groaned again.
Jack, next oldest to Jessie, looked down at Ace. “Jessie, you get some clothes on. I’ll take care of your man.”
“I can take care of myself.” Ace pulled himself to one knee. He rocked a moment before forcing himself up. Though he wavered for a moment, no one reached to help him, not even Jessie. She understood pride.
“Sin,” groaned Ace, “did you not tell these bloody Elliotts I have a need for sarcasm?”
“No, I did, the first time we met,” said Henry. “Trace was building the extra room for those girls. I said Ace likes to see how many people he can irritate in a day.” Henry looked around. “Today’s a good day. Ten people ready to strangle you.”
“Ten?” Ace looked at Henry.
“You think I like being attacked just because you didn’t ask the woman whether she had six or ten brothers?”
“He’s not engaged,” protested Jessie. “He never asked me to marry him.”
Ace dropped back to one knee. He tugged her left hand free. She pulled the quilt tighter to her body with her right.
“Jessamine Bonham Elliott. Will you marry me?”
Jessie looked around at all the weapons suddenly pointed her way. “What, are you going to shoot me if I refuse?”
“No,” replied Sin in a too-smooth voice. “But I will paddle your ass so hard you won’t sit down until the wedding. That’s about ten days, sweetheart. You really want that?”
Her pussy flooded. She inhaled and licked her lips.
“Damn, she’s considering it!” Jack’s hoarse but delighted whisper broke the stillness.
“I brought Nightwind from Texas,” said Ranger.
Jessie yanked her hand away from Ace and turned to him. “She’s here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ranger holstered his pistol and jammed his hands on his hips as if he wanted a fight.
“You gave her to me when you left Texas, Jessie.”
“You were the only one I trusted to care for her while I was gone. You brought her to the ranch for me, didn’t you?”
Ranger shook his head. “She’s mine, now. I’ll get some good colts from her.”
“But, she’s never been bred!”
“Yes, she has,” said Trace. “She let Sin’s Emperor cover he while he helped Sapphire with her foal. She found a stallion to best her.” He raised a threatening eyebrow at her. “Just as you chose Ace.”
Jessie looked from Trace to Ranger. Both had closed faces. Nightwind, the beautiful mare who’d kept her sane the last few years in Texas, belonged to Ranger. She slumped and nodded his ownership of her horse.
“I figure she’d make a good wedding present,” said Ranger.
Jessie heard the challenge in his voice. She saw it in the way he stood, feet wide and fists on his hips. She straightened up, understanding. If she married Ace, she got her horse back. If she refused, they’d find a way to make her do it anyway, and Ranger would keep Nightwind.
Her mare had found a s
tallion who was her match. According to her brothers, she had done the same. Today was not the time to fight a battle. She’d win the war, though. Eventually.
“I don’t know anything about weddings.”
“Beth and Amelia do,” said Trace.
Eleven men gave a collective sigh at her capitulation. Weapons slipped into holsters and up sleeves. Gillis slid his claymore into its sheath at his back.
“We’ll keep the news in the family until then,” said Trace. The others nodded.
“You planning on behaving at this wedding?” asked Ross in a teasing lilt. His lip twitched. “You got a mite riled at Louisa’s.”
“I didn’t like the way they looked at me.” She stuck out her chin.
“Three broken noses, one or two unable to stand straight, and a few blackened eyes,” explained Patrick to Ace. “Jessie’s got a mean right hook as well as a fast knee.”
“I don’t expect any black eyes at my wedding,” said Ace. He looked around the ring of faces. “Unless you boys take a while healing after meeting my fists.”
“Nae, ’tis ye who’ll be needing a beefsteak or two over yer eyes.”
“Just make sure to leave that pig sticker of yours at home,” said Sin.
“Pig sticker?” Gillis roared. “I’ll have ye know this is me grandsire’s claidheamh mór!”
“Enough! There’ll be nothing but fists,” confirmed Trace. He slid his glance to Ross. “I’ll tell Frank to bring a bigger box to hold your knives this time. He’ll be the ringmaster.”
Gillis warned Ace with his eyes that there’d be further words on the subject of the MacDougal family’s precious heirloom.
“You said something about stew?” reminded Ranger.
Immediately, the men’s focus switched from fighting to food. They joked about Jessie’s cooking, though she could do a better job over a campfire than most of them. It was just that she hated using a kitchen stove because it meant she was confined to the house. Like a wife.
