by Megan Besing
“The men didn’t give you any trouble?”
“No trouble at all.”
“Good. I brought you something. Come and see.” He led her over to where his saddlebag rested on the gate of a nearby stall. He pulled a brown paper package from the bag and handed it to her. “Go on. Open it.”
She gave him a curious smile as she untied the string. Peeling back the folded paper revealed a length of lace. He shrugged. “I know it’s impractical out here, but every bride should have a bit of white lace. There’s more.”
There was definitely more. Something hard and square rested beneath the lace. It turned out to be two small books. “Oh, Wyatt, a book of Psalms and a New Testament. I love them! Thank you.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I read them now and then too.”
“Mind? Of course, I won’t mind. We’ll share them.” She hugged them to her chest. “This means so much to me, Wyatt.”
“I’m glad you like them. Best keep this between us, though. We don’t want the other men to think I’m going soft.” Taking the books from her, he slid them back into the saddlebag then took her arms and boldly draped them around his neck. He caught her waist between his hands and leveled his silver eyes at her. Sincerity filled his low voice. “I missed you.”
Her rebellious heart fluttered, but she knew better than to let herself be charmed. As much as she wanted to be able to trust him, he was an outlaw. She had no idea what he’d been doing. Nor whom he’d been with. Perhaps he’d found affection elsewhere. The thought left her cold, but she’d be foolish not to at least consider it.
Just because that madam in town didn’t know about him having a woman didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t one. She knew how outlaws could be after they’d successfully finished a job—far too ready to celebrate with any woman who was willing. She couldn’t help but give him a doubtful look. “Are you sure you weren’t too busy with someone else?”
“With someone—” Storm clouds filled his eyes. “I would never be unfaithful to you, Mariah. How could I, when I can’t stop thinking about you or our kiss? All the while I was gone, I was wishing I was with you, waiting until I could see you again, wanting to hold you, and…” A hint of frustration flashed across his face, followed by desperation. “Honey, didn’t you think about me at all while I was gone?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted in a reluctant whisper.
The firm line of his mouth hitched upward at the corner. “And you missed me?”
It was more of a demand than a question so she treated it as such. Arching her eyebrows in surprise, she batted her lashes innocently. “Did I? Hmm. Oh, I don’t know, Wyatt. What was there to miss?”
He tugged her into a kiss without so much as a by-your-leave. He was here. He was safe. He was hers—sort of. So she may have kissed him back a little. All right, more than a little. She didn’t exactly limit him to one kiss either. Not that he asked about a limit before kissing her again. She let him kiss her once more before sliding her hands down to his chest and pushing him away. “You shouldn’t—”
“I shouldn’t?” He grinned at her.
“We shouldn’t kiss like that. We aren’t married. Not if your name isn’t legally Wyatt Coulter.”
He was quiet for a moment. Catching her hands, he tugged her into an embrace. “Suppose I took you into town right now, had the justice of the peace draw up the papers with my legal name. Would you marry me again?”
Would she? Her heart whispered a silent yes, even as reason screamed no. She should run from him, from all of this, the second she had the chance. She wanted to lie and say yes, make him bring her into town, take out on the next train, but she couldn’t mislead him in this. No matter how much she should. “Wyatt…”
“I thought not.” He kissed her temple. “Maybe one day…One day your answer might be different.”
She searched his gaze. “So you’ll keep me here against my will until it changes?”
“Where is it you want to go?”
“Away from here.”
He shook his head. “Be specific, Mariah. If you left here without me, where would you go?”
“Without you?” Why did her foolish heart lurch at the mere thought of it? She sighed. “Wyatt, you know I have nowhere to go.”
“I know.” His lips formed a straight line again. Concern furrowed his brow. Finally, he framed her face with his hands and looked deep into her eyes. “Sweetheart, when are you going to realize the safest place for you to be is right here?” He pulled her into a hug. “I promise you on my life. It’s right here.”
She hesitated for a moment, then her rigid body relaxed into his and she held on tight. She believed him. Truly. Deep down. He would protect her. He would help her. One day, God willing, they’d leave this life behind for something new.
He really shouldn’t kiss Mariah so often. It was unprofessional. She trusted him now, so it was also unnecessary. Not to mention unwise. Her kisses had a way of making him lose focus, turning his mind and his priorities topsy-turvy. Right now he should be thinking about a way to finally capture the entire Renegade gang. Instead, he was thinking about Mariah. That scrappy, no holding back, tell it like it is, mischievous, innocent yet jaded woman was turning his brain to mush. It had to stop, and it had to stop now.
He ignored the glass of whiskey the Silver Slipper’s burly bartender slid to him. Surveying his surroundings, his jaw tightened as he realized that for once nearly the whole Renegade gang was right here, ripe for arresting—if he wasn’t so outnumbered. Rarely did the General ever let the whole gang leave the valley at once. If Wyatt had known this would happen, he would have called for reinforcements, but the General never let his right hand know what the left hand was doing.
After two weeks at home with Mariah, Wyatt had been sent to mop up behind Blade, Dodger, and Jack, who’d rustled nearly two hundred head of cattle. Hiding trails, mending cut fences, and the like until the only trace of the gang was the ink on Wyatt’s ledger. Meanwhile, the General had done something to come into money on his own and left his lair to do it. Wyatt needed to ferret out what the General’s crime was, but the General and Rosie were deep in conversation.
Try as he might, Wyatt couldn’t hear them over the tinny piano. There would likely be an opportunity to talk to the General at some point this evening. However, the longer Wyatt waited, the less likely he was to make it to the valley before nightfall. Mariah would be waiting and worrying. Wyatt would be worrying too, because even though Doc Tillman seemed to harbor some grandfatherly affection for Mariah, the man wasn’t altogether sane.
The only other person left at the valley was Hawk. The gatekeeper to the hideout didn’t pay much attention to what went on inside the safety of the valley. If there was trouble, he’d notice, but how soon?
A man slid onto the stool on Wyatt’s right. Another claimed the stool on his left. Wyatt caught a glimpse of their faces in the mirror behind the bar. Familiar. Both of them. Too familiar.
The man on his right met his gaze. Blue eyes. Ruddy brown hair. A full beard that didn’t quite cover the faint, jagged scar trailing down his cheek. Wyatt had studied the man’s wanted poster enough to know exactly who he was. Colin “The Killer” Wescott—murderer of six men and one woman, bank robber, train robber, horse thief, and older brother of the man seated on Wyatt’s left. A quick glance at that man confirmed he was indeed Dave Wescott. Dave didn’t quite have his brother’s penchant for killing, but he’d joined in with the bank robbing, train robbing, and horse thieving eagerly enough.
The Renegades had a reputation. There was no mistaking that, but recently they’d stuck to cattle rustling. In Wyoming rustlers came a dime a dozen. The gang’s true value lay in their connections to the other gangs who passed through their hideout. On the other hand, the Wescott brothers—they were legends. All they had to do was show up and folks would hand over fistfuls of cash to see them gone. The bounties on their heads had sent plenty of bounty hunters after them. Four of them had gotte
n close enough to die for their efforts.
The brothers and their gang were Texas’s problem. What on earth were they doing in Wyoming? Seeking new territory? Apparently they had business with him. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have surrounded him or keep staring at him. The best way to get out of this alive was to make friends with them. He motioned the bartender over. “First one is in on me.”
The men gave their orders to the bartender then Dave grinned. “Right kindly of you.”
“Don’t mention it.” He threw back his whiskey because it would look strange if he didn’t.
Colin did the same with his then leaned an elbow on the bar. “Is your name Wyatt Coulter?”
“Who wants to know?”
“I’m Colin. This here is Dave. Rosie pointed you out. She says you might know something about our missing sister.”
Snow Wescott—assumed to be an aider and abettor to the Wescott gang. Although rarely seen in public, she was reported to be a beauty. The newspaper painted her as everything from an angel to a hellion. Wyatt shook his head. “I don’t know anything about anyone’s sister. You might want to talk to my friend Jack. He’s the resident lady-killer.”
“No.” Colin’s eyes seemed to pierce through to his very soul. “I don’t want to talk to a lady-killer. I want to talk to the kind of man who’s looking to marry a woman.”
Wyatt frowned. “You do know you aren’t making a lick of sense, don’t you, Colin?”
Dave chuckled. “He’s got you there, Colin. What my brother is trying to say is we think you might have married our sister.”
“What?”
“Show him the picture, Col.”
Colin placed a tintype on the bar. Wyatt snatched it up. Unsmiling and solemn, his wife stared back at him in black and white. Mariah Snow. Snow Wescott.
Colin growled, “You recognize her.”
He’d been too stunned to hide his reaction. He could lie, say that he’d seen her in passing, but Rosie had already confirmed he’d married this woman. No wonder Mariah—Snow—hadn’t wanted to go home. Her home was the Wescott gang hideout. So much about her suddenly made sense. Even so, he shook his head in disbelief. “This can’t be my wife.”
Dave grinned. “Fooled you, did she? What did she say her name was?”
“Mariah Snow.”
“Well, she didn’t lie,” Dave said as he motioned for a refill. “That’s her real name, all right. She’s our stepsister. Her ma married into our family when Mariah was twelve. We called her Snow as a pet name. The papers just assumed she was a Wescott.”
Wyatt glanced back and forth between the brothers. “Wescott?”
Either Colin didn’t buy into the surprise in Wyatt’s voice or he didn’t care. “Where is she?”
“She’s safe.”
Colin tipped his head in the direction of the canyon. “Tucked inside the Renegades’ hidey-hole? Take us to her.”
As Mariah’s almost-husband and friend, he didn’t want to let either of them near her. After all, she’d run from them for a reason. Yet, as a man sworn to uphold the law, he couldn’t let the Wescott brothers go without trying to capture them or trying to discover information that would lead to their capture. In fact, if he could wire his superiors and let them know the brothers were in the area…“I’ll try, but it isn’t completely up to me. Stay here.”
Wyatt caught the General’s attention and they met near the back of the saloon. He explained the situation while the General eyed the two men in question. “You’re sure they’re really her brothers?”
“They have her picture. I can’t imagine why else they would come all this way.”
“Well, it can’t be simply to talk to her. You must know they’re here to take her away from you, from all of us. The question is, how many of us would they be willing to kill to do it?”
“Do you think they’d check their weapons with Hawk?”
“It’s the only way I’d let them into our camp.” Lorde scanned the room. “They could be detectives, you know, pretending to be the Wescott brothers to worm their way into our hideout.”
Wyatt shook his head. “I’ve seen their pictures in the paper and read descriptions of both of them. They’re the Wescotts, all right.”
“To be safe, we’ll have Mariah identify them after they check their weapons with Hawk. I’ll round up the boys for the ride back to the valley. We want the Wescotts outnumbered. You let them know our terms. If Mariah doesn’t want to see them, they’re out. I’m not keen on losing my cook, so I hope you’re ready to fight for her.”
He nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Well, then. Let’s give you your chance.”
Chapter 5
She’d thought one week without Wyatt was bad. Two weeks was torture. She’d spent most of her time doing chores, playing solitaire, reading books from Doc Tillman’s expansive library, and listening to the old fellow’s war stories. If she heard one more tale ending with someone losing a limb, she might lose her mind.
She jumped as the front door banged open and Jack stepped inside. Joy and relief filled her. The men must be back. She dropped her knife into the large bowl of potatoes she was slicing then rinsed her hands in the sink. No need to smell like raw potatoes when greeting her husband—almost-husband. “Supper won’t be ready for another hour or so, I’m afraid.”
Jack sank onto a kitchen chair and frowned. “No rush. It’s just me for now. Millie and I had a fight so I came back early. The rest of the men had business in town.”
“Oh.”
“Well, you needn’t sound so disappointed.” He took one of the dry potatoes out of the bushel and rubbed the dirt from the skin. “Your guard dog will be here soon enough.”
She let the comment pass, knowing he was likely still sore about whatever happened between him and Millie. Grabbing the knife from the bowl, she settled back in the chair catty-corner from him and went back to slicing potatoes. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. “Where’s Doc?”
“On a ramble, I guess.”
He nodded then stared off toward the fireplace and grimaced. “Why are women so blamed unreasonable?”
“What happened with Millie, Jack?”
“She wants to marry me.”
Hiding a smile at his horrified tone, she carried the bowl to the sink. “Well, why don’t you? You obviously care about her.”
“I don’t give a fig about Millie.” He was quiet for a moment, then she felt his chest brush against her back as his hand trailed up her arm. “You have to believe me.”
“What are you doing?” Spinning to face him, she tried to sidestep away from him, but he braced his hands on either side of the counter behind her.
“It’s you I want.” The smell of liquor filled what little air remained between them. His green eyes traced her features desperately. “Can’t you see that?”
A cold feeling washed over her, filling her voice with a warning. “Jack.”
“Give us a chance.” He pressed against her, pinning her to the counter, then caught her jaw in an unyielding grip and kissed her.
She squirmed and pushed away from his chest until she was free of his demanding lips. “Let go of me!”
He let go only long enough to grab her waist and sit her on the counter. Sending her a sultry look, he smiled. “You’ll like this. I promise.”
She slapped at his face, kicked his chest, and screamed, “I said stop!”
He ducked away from her firestorm. Sliding off the counter, she raced out the front door. Jack and his laughter chased after her. If she could lock herself in her cabin until Wyatt arrived—Jack tackled her legs. Her palms met the hard-packed ground. Twisting to face him, she screamed and tried to kick her legs free, but he straddled her. He covered her mouth with one hand then blocked a blow to his face with the other. “Stop fighting me, you wildcat!”
She bit his hand. Hard. He jerked it away with a laugh. “Fine. Scream all you want. There’s no one around to hear you.”
He dodg
ed her bared nails then caught her hands and pinned them over her head. A gunshot rang out. Jack froze. A look of bewilderment replaced his smile. He released her hands to touch the hole that had appeared in his shirt on his right shoulder. His fingers came away with blood. “I’ve been shot.”
Taking advantage of his distraction, she struck his nose with the heel of her hand as hard as she could. He cried out and toppled off her. She scrambled away from him as horses thundered into the yard and encircled them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” General Lorde yelled as he dropped from his horse and started pummeling Jack with his fists. “What were my orders concerning Mariah?”
Jack held up his hands but otherwise didn’t try to defend himself. “Stop! Please.”
General Lorde ignored him. “What were my orders?”
“To leave her alone.” Jack curled into a ball.
General Lorde kicked him one last time. “My apologies, Mariah. I’ll make sure he’s packed up and gone within the hour.”
Mariah flinched as a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Glancing up, she met her husband’s fierce, concerned gaze. Her eyes filled with tears of relief. “Wyatt.”
Wyatt scooped Mariah into his arms. Her arms went around his neck and she buried her face in his shoulder. That was enough to give her enraged brothers pause as they moved toward her. Wyatt held her closer. Dave gave him a shallow nod then murmured something to Colin. Wyatt didn’t wait a second longer to stride into the cabin he shared with Mariah. He leaned back on the door to shut it behind them.
Mariah tensed. “Wait. Put me down.”
He immediately released her. She hurried over to the door and slid the bar into place, locking them in. No, locking everyone else out. That became obvious as she stood frozen in place, her breath heaving in her chest—no doubt going over a thousand scenarios of what might have happened if the rest of the gang hadn’t ridden in when they did. “Mariah.”
She slowly turned and lifted her gaze to meet his. In two steps, she was in his arms again, trembling and clinging to him with all her might. His heart felt near to bursting, but it shouldn’t. None of this was supposed to be real. She wasn’t truly his wife. She was just a girl he was supposed to protect. Someone with deep connections to two notorious criminals.
