by Linda Broday
“I’ll be here for just a little while,” Houston said, yawning. “Have to spell the others.” At her questioning glance, he explained, “Everyone shares guard duty, me included.”
She nodded and hurried to lay Gracie in her crib beside the chuck wagon, lingering a moment to make sure the child didn’t wake.
With her precious daughter sleeping soundly, she returned to the fire. As she’d predicted, Virgil was fast asleep, but Houston was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank with disappointment. She’d missed him, missed their good-night kiss.
Then she heard him calling quietly from the deep shadows. “Over here, Lara.”
Following his voice, she discovered him leaning against a dead mesquite tree. Rays from the full moon lightened the dark-brown strands nestling against his collar, adding glints of silver. His gaze met hers.
“I didn’t want the comings and goings to interrupt, so I walked out here,” he explained.
Lara wet her lips. “I thought you’d changed your mind.” That he didn’t want to kiss a woman so scarred.
“Not a chance, lady.”
Others had spoken of Becky Golden’s beauty. Houston had loved her and still did. Lara had been forced on him. No matter that she was beginning to warm to the idea of feeling his lips on hers—of wanting that intimacy—Houston may not feel the same. It could really all be playacting for his men, so they wouldn’t gossip. This was a mistake. She turned to go.
“Please wait.” He pushed away from the tree. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you.”
No, he would never lay a hand to her, and that surety, plus the earnest note in his voice, stopped her from leaving. Her steps were hesitant as she moved slowly to him. When he opened his arms, she walked into his embrace as though it were a door and safety awaited there. Inhaling the scented air, she laid her head against the hard wall of his chest.
Houston lightly rested his chin on top of her head. “I’m real glad you came on this drive. Nights can get lonely out here.”
His deep voice vibrated inside her. It was like he’d become part of her. “I’m glad I did too. Even though I had to work to convince you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a stubborn fool.”
He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. Without a word, he lowered his mouth. The instant his warm lips touched hers, Lara had to clutch his arm to keep from falling. Her heartbeat pounded as though trying to keep up with the blood racing through her veins.
A hot, demanding achiness swept over her. She needed this man. At this moment, she didn’t think she could live without him.
Nor did she want to try.
With a low cry, he placed his large hands under her jaw and deepened the kiss, sending a series of quickenings into her stomach, similar to the ones she’d felt when Gracie curled in her womb. Maybe these stirrings signaled life, much in the same way her baby’s movements had, to let her know she was alive and couldn’t wait to be born.
Maybe she was being reborn.
Maybe she could forget the past and start fresh.
Maybe this was what she’d waited so long for.
As she leaned into him and gripped Houston’s vest, pleasure like she’d never felt swirled inside her. She clung to him, afraid if she let go, he’d vanish and she’d discover it was a dream.
Could this be tiny stirrings of love?
Lara suddenly pushed away from him. No, it wasn’t love. She refused to even let that thought enter her head. Love didn’t exist, not for her. It was too dangerous to believe there could ever be anything more than what she had.
Houston was in love with a ghost, and she…
“What’s wrong, Lara?” He gently pushed back her hair. “Did I do something to upset or frighten you? I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. I forgot.”
“No, you did nothing wrong.” It was her. She was all wrong. “I’m sorry,” she murmured brokenly.
Through tears, she stumbled back to the light of the campfire, escaping all that brought pain.
The past.
Herself.
An impossible future.
Escaping everything. If only it were that easy.
As she stood beside Gracie’s crib, Houston lightly touched her shoulder. He’d followed her. “Tell me. Talk to me. I want to understand.”
She owed him some explanation. Impatiently dashing away the tears, she turned and let anger spill. “It’s not you, Houston. It’s me. I’m broken. Too broken to fix. You can’t repair something that’s missing the pieces. Blackstone took a lot more than…” She paused. “He stole…”
“Your soul,” he supplied quietly. “Mine was stripped away also. I don’t know exactly how you feel—I couldn’t possibly—and I’m sure it will take a long time to work through. But…we can try. If you’re willing.”
His hand tightened on her shoulder, and the shadows couldn’t hide the muscle working in his jaw. She saw caring in his eyes and felt it in his gentle touch.
“We’re both trapped by the past. I don’t know if I can ever find peace. I don’t know if I can ever be a wife,” she murmured, looking out into the darkness that hid waiting evil. It always waited there, just beyond the light. “Sometimes I still see his sneering face, hear the hate in his voice, feel his hands on me,” she whispered. “I haven’t slept a full night through since. Not once.”
“I can make no promises that this will work out, but I will try my hardest. I want to help you. Just tell me how.”
She raised her eyes to his. “I may not ever be whole again. Are you prepared for that?” No matter how difficult she found it, she would always be honest. He deserved that at least.
“I am. I’ll never forsake you.” Houston pulled her to him slowly, giving her time to break away if she wanted, and smoothed back her hair. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll work this out together. We have mountains in front of us, and Lord knows you have one of the tallest, but no one can tell you when or how to climb. I’ll help you figure it out and, if I can’t catch you, I’ll pick you up when you fall.”
This was the first genuine conversation about their relationship they’d had since the day they pledged to stand by each other in sickness and in health. Maybe it meant they were making progress. Or maybe it was nothing more than meaningless words for a poor woman who had little to offer.
And yet… “Don’t ever pity me,” she warned. “I will accept anything but that.”
“It’s not you I pity,” Houston assured her in a cold voice edged with steel. “It’s Blackstone. I’m going to make him very, very sorry he was ever born, and you can bet on that.”
“If you find him.”
“I’ll find him, all right. I’ll dog him to the ends of the earth if I have to. There’s no place to hide that I won’t find him. I’ll turn over every rock, look in every hole. He won’t be able to take a deep breath, because I’ll be there.”
His cold voice, coupled with the bitter words, scared her a little. She feared for anyone who hurt his family. Houston Legend would kill without batting an eye. That much was crystal clear. He was barely able to contain his rage now—what would he be like without restraint?
Though she truly believed deep down his promises to never hurt her, she didn’t wish to see that rage directed at anyone. Anger terrified her. It made men do horrific things.
She didn’t want to see Houston in that state. If she lost him, what would she do?
Lara yearned to touch his hard jaw where a muscle still twitched, but she’d already pushed him away. Laying her hand on him now would only confuse the issue. She wasn’t going to be someone who was hot one minute and cold as ice the next.
“Houston, I’m not asking—”
“I know that. But it’s something I have to do. For you and for me. The crime can’t go unpunished. If we don’t have justice, what will the world become? This is an unforg
iving land full of lawless people, and they have to pay for the evil they do.” His expression told her he’d go all the way to hell and beyond to make their world safer.
But still—Yuma would kill him as soon as he got the chance. Terror froze her blood.
“And that duty falls on your shoulders, Houston?”
“Mine and every man with a desire for law and order. It’s going to take every single one of us to tame this wild land.” He jerked off his hat and shoved a hand through his hair. “I hope I live to see the day when we run the evil men out of this state.” He crushed his hat in his large hands before jamming it back on his head. “Reckon I’d best take my turn at singing these cows to sleep.”
Houston took two steps before Lara caught his arm.
“Do you think you could kiss me once more?” she whispered.
Firelight revealed a surprised but pleased smile. “Anything for you, Lara.”
Lara searched his eyes. “Does it mean that much to you?”
“I didn’t expect it to, but it does. It really does.”
Her heart hammered when he dipped his head and laid his lips to hers. Instant heat flamed, along with something else—a dream that one day she could give her husband the kind of wife he deserved.
As he drugged her with a slow, scorching kiss, she did something she’d never done before. Lara melted into his arms and slid a hand around his neck into his soft hair.
What they had was far from a normal marriage, but this seemed a start.
Maybe, just maybe…she felt a tiny flicker of hope curling through her. Maybe making a life together was like starting a campfire. You had to begin with small pieces of kindling and let the flames take hold.
And maybe eventually, they’d find a way to the peace they both sought.
Eleven
A twisting, rushing current greeted Houston upon reaching the mighty Red the following morning. He pushed back his Stetson and surveyed the river. The Appaloosa stamped his feet impatiently.
“She’ll give us a tussle,” Clay said, wiping his face with his neckerchief. “But we should cross it here just fine.”
Houston grunted. “I agree. This is the shallowest part.”
He wasn’t worried about the cattle or the men that much. The ones that concerned him most were Lara, Gracie, and Henry. Even though Lara had reminded him again that very morning that she was just one of the drovers, try convincing his heart.
Small chance.
She was his partner. His friend.
Hope lodged in his heart that they could heal and grow into this marriage. One thing about him—when he’d decided to take her for a wife, it had been for keeps. There were no half measures either. Despite his past problems, he couldn’t ask her to trust him without being committed.
Maybe he could still give her a happy life without letting her into his heart…and without being allowed into hers in return.
The feel of her slightly parted lips against his still burned in his memory, along with the fragrance of roses that had wafted around his head, making her impossible to forget. Despite being dog-tired, when he’d crawled into his bedroll in the wee hours, sleep had evaded him. Trying to figure out how to act around her was making him crazy. How could he touch her without frightening her to death? What could he say that would put her at ease? When would this awkward stage pass?
“Let’s get these snot-slinging bunch of dogies across, Clay,” Houston said, dragging his thoughts to the job at hand. “I want to help Lara during the crossing, so the biggest portion of this will fall on you.”
Clay shot him a glance out of his good eye, grinning. “Don’t worry. I’m up for the job.”
“Sort of figured that out a while ago,” Houston answered softly. “Thanks for never bellyaching. You’re a good man, Clay.”
“Always figured complainin’ was a pure waste of time.” Clay’s grin spread. “Besides, I need all the air I can get for breathing.”
Virgil Boone rode over to them. “Houston, any special instructions?”
Houston eyed the kid. “Don’t get killed.”
“I don’t plan to. Anything else?”
“Keep an eye on your brothers. Help them if they need it.” Still the kid stayed, as though he wanted to say something. Houston waited.
Finally, Virgil spoke. “You’ll look after my sister?”
There it was. The worried look in Virgil’s eyes hurt Houston’s heart. Lara was precious to countless people and he doubted she knew exactly to what lengths they’d go to protect her. Guilt was a hard thing to handle, and the Boone boys had it in spades.
“Count on it, Virgil.” Houston tugged his hat lower to hide the unease that must show in his face. Whatever, whoever, sought to steal her would have the fight of his life on his hands.
Lara Legend had him to stand beside her in sickness, in health…and in crossing this dang river.
* * *
The water rose higher and higher. Lara gripped the reins, trying to remain calm and let the team feel her confidence. She could do this. She had to.
Houston rode beside the wagon, adding a level of security. He’d wanted to tie the Appaloosa to the back and drive, but she refused to relinquish the reins.
This was her job and she needed to do it—for her self-worth, her need to prove she could, and for her baby girl. Lara had to show Gracie that she should be strong and not wait around for someone to always get her out of difficult situations. Being independent was crucial for a woman in this wild land.
On the plains, a woman needed good wits about her.
Now, as they began to cross the mighty Red, she found herself grateful that Houston hadn’t gotten angry and ridden off. Having him near was a comfort. One thing she knew—if anything should happen and she couldn’t figure out a way past it, her husband would make it right again. He could fix almost anything.
Lara glanced at his rugged profile: the squared shoulders, the set jaw and the hard lines of his face that now seemed carved in granite. Never before had she known a man like Houston. Why hadn’t she met him before that horrible night when the world stopped turning and she had prayed to die?
Back when she could’ve loved a man.
She gritted her teeth and brought her attention to a task she could do something about.
New buoyancy told her when the horses started swimming, and the floating chuck wagon followed behind. Slow and steady. Relieved that everything was going well, she took a deep breath and relaxed her hold on the reins.
“You’re almost there,” Houston called. “I’m proud of you. You’re gonna make it.”
His praise sent a happy glow through her. She gave him a smile. Just a little more and she’d have the river behind her. They floated slowly toward the bank where her brothers all stood.
“You’re one tough lady,” Houston said, riding beside her. “In fact, I’d say you’re a match for your Margaret Heffernan Borland.”
The kindness in his deep voice seeped into her bones. Never had anyone shown such gentle caring, not even her papa and brothers who had nursed her back from near death.
“You’re not still doubting my abilities?” she asked.
“Nope.”
The hard edges Houston Legend wore were deceptive. He could be kind and gentle and encouraging. He could even be sweet.
However, something told her that for anyone who harmed his family or men, he would be someone to fear.
After seeing the chuck wagon safely on dry land, he turned his attention to the others. Her gaze followed Houston’s tall, muscular form. She loved watching him work. Confidence oozed from him. Though she was still learning his ways, she hadn’t seen any task he hadn’t measured up to. Even marry a woman he didn’t know to give her child a name. Sharp pain filled her. He’d given up everything for her and Gracie. And now he wanted to go after Yuma Blackstone.
Fear froze the blood in her veins. When he caught up with the man—and she knew it was only a matter of time—one of them would die.
She took Gracie from Henry and absently fingered her reddish-blond curls. They both needed the man who had just come into their life. The fear riding inside her like the black shadow of a vulture sharpened the brittle hardness that had formed during her recovery. If Yuma put Houston into a grave, she’d go after him herself—and deliver the vengeance that burned inside her like the fiery pit of hell. Except then it would be exacting retribution for two murders—one for Houston and one for the death of her spirit and self-worth.
Yes, Yuma Blackstone would pay. But at whose hand was the question.
Henry propped himself beside her. “I was scared. Were you scared, Lara?”
“No, Henry. Water is nothing to be afraid of. Remember that Virgil and Papa taught you to swim. Do you recall that?”
“Oh yeah.” He grinned. “I can swim like a doggie.”
“That’s right. Besides, with all of us near, you’ll never have to be afraid.” She just prayed her brother would always have someone near to save him. Lara hugged his arm. “Thank you for taking such good care of Gracie.”
“I didn’t want the river to get her.”
“You’re a good uncle to the baby.”
“An uncle?”
“Yes, you’re her uncle. Remember?”
“But I’m the brother.”
“No, honey,” Lara corrected in a gentle tone. “You’re my brother but you’re Gracie’s uncle.”
“Who’s her daddy? Can I be the daddy?”
The question caught Lara off guard. She’d cut out her tongue before she spoke Yuma’s name.
“Houston is her papa.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot.” Henry grinned then turned to watch the men. “I’m hungry. Can I eat?”
“Not yet. Soon, though.”
Gracie looked up at her and babbled something. The child was so pleasant and hardly ever cried. Lara prayed she would grow into a beautiful, caring woman. All Gracie needed was a chance. “Yes, sweetie,” Lara crooned and kissed a dirt-streaked cheek. “Whatever you said is right. I love you too.”
