by Linda Broday
Houston gently kissed her, savoring their newfound closeness. He would’ve said that the feeling bursting from his heart was love, except after past experience, he couldn’t say. He did know a deep bond had formed with the woman curled beside him.
“If a listener is what you need, then I’m all ears,” Houston mumbled against her temple.
“You can fill in most of the blanks so I’ll spare you the details,” she said. “It’s what happened afterward that I can’t forget. I’ve never told another living soul.”
“You don’t have to do this. Maybe you shouldn’t.”
She inhaled deeply. “The memory eats at my brain. I have to get it out.”
Houston knew about things that ate at you and how they destroyed the fabric of a person until he could no longer recognize himself. He drew her close. “Then I’ll listen.”
“Blood streamed from my face that night and I couldn’t tell which direction to go. I crawled, desperately trying to find help. Find someone to end the nightmare. I had nothing to shield my naked body with, but that barely registered.
“On some level, I simply knew I didn’t want to die there with him and feared I might. Yuma laughed and kicked me as I crawled.” Her voice broke as she sobbed. “Taunting and kicking and stomping with his boots. The torture, the pain, the temptation to lie down and die was so strong. But I chose to live.”
Houston tenderly wiped her tears, folded his arms even tighter around her trembling body. He couldn’t bear to hear more, wanted to beg her to stop. But he didn’t—because what she said was true. She needed to tell someone so the wound could finally heal. That she chose him spoke of her trust.
And he’d carry her words to his grave.
He rubbed her back and held her as she cried, releasing deep, shuddering sobs that came from the depths of her soul. He didn’t know how long it was before she lay spent. He just held her, giving her time, murmuring soothing words, rubbing her back and shoulders.
When she was able to talk, she went on. “I can still hear him, you know? Yuma’s laughter, the hateful words. He called me a pitiful, worthless whore. Among other things. There was another man also there that night. And…” Quiet sobs shook her again. “He…took a turn.”
Shock and molten anger washed through Houston, blinding him. “Who? Tell me.” He’d find the bastard and shove him headfirst in a grave.
“I never knew his name. He was Yuma’s acquaintance. He wore twin guns and had these strange-looking cartridge belts coming down from each shoulder, crisscrossing his chest. They dug into my skin.”
Digger Barnes. Had to be him. Everything fit. Houston trembled with rage so powerful he tasted the bitterness on his tongue. He had to stop both men from hurting any other women.
This wasn’t just about avenging Lara. What burned inside was to see justice done. To hunt down both and let them hang before they hurt anyone else.
Suddenly in the quiet, a thought hit him. Gracie could be either man’s child. That sweet babe didn’t deserve this any more than Lara did.
A stillness came over him. He had to weigh his next words carefully and make sure he expressed the feelings inside that made him tremble in the dead of night.
“You are without a doubt the bravest woman I’ve ever known. You survived to give life to our little Gracie.” He kissed her fingertips. “I’m sorry you had to suffer through that. I only wish I had been there.” He shook with the need to get up right then and ride back to the snake’s den. Only now they were gone. Didn’t matter. If it took him the rest of his days, he’d find them. And when he did, he’d make sure both men died a very slow and very painful death.
“I wish you had also.” She caressed his jaw. “I’m glad I chose to live.”
“So am I.” What a fool he’d been to waste half his life loving the wrong woman. No, even worse than that: the idea of her. He hadn’t known her at all in the end—and he hadn’t really known love either.
Houston tenderly kissed her forehead, then drifted to capture her lips. His hands moved down her stomach to rest on one flared hip. Finally, he broke the kiss. “Try to forget. Wipe it from your memory. Neither are worth one second’s thought. They’re already headed to hell.”
He’d carry her secret so she could live her life free. The two thought they’d gotten away with their unspeakable crime.
Lara pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat. “I feel a little better already.”
“I’m glad. Keep your eyes firmly on the future and all the happiness we’ll have making a life together.” Houston kissed away the remnants of the tears that poised on the tips of her lashes. “Promise me you will.”
“I promise.” A shuddering breath ran through her. “Thank you, Houston.”
“You have more courage than anyone I’ve known. I’m proud to be your husband.” Houston tucked her against him and held her for a long time, letting the silence spin a healing web around them. He was glad he didn’t have to speak, because he didn’t know where to begin to find the right words. Maybe there weren’t any. Maybe it was better to keep quiet and let his hands do his talking for a change.
Finally, Lara shifted and took his hand. She placed it on her breast, then fumbled with the top button of her dress. “I’d like to feel you touching my bare skin. If you’ve no objection.”
Protest to that? Good Lord!
He moved her hand aside but paused with the button. “Are you sure? If you’d rather wait a while, that’s all right.”
“I’m certain. But that’s all I’m up to for now.”
“I understand.” Only a fool would complain. With trembling fingers, he unfastened her dress. Her white cotton chemise was all that stood between them. Earthy scents of the night and passion swirled around them as Houston pressed his hand to her bare flesh.
So soft.
So warm.
So intoxicating.
He tried to fill his lungs but instantly regretted it when the pain brought tears to his eyes. He closed them and waited until his ribs eased before letting his fingers glide, caressing the long column of her throat and stopping at the swell of her bosom. Sweat popped out on his forehead. He yearned to move the chemise aside and brush across her breasts, but he wouldn’t betray Lara’s trust.
Just being with her this way made him feel as though he’d drunk half a bottle of whiskey. His head swam and heat swept along each nerve ending, spreading through his limbs.
He’d been with other women during his life, but somehow this seemed like his very first time. Lara pushed out memories of all others from his brain. Even if someone held a gun to his head, he couldn’t recall one detail about them.
They’d meant nothing to him. Nothing at all.
Lara ran her fingers across his lips. “Houston, do you think it’ll always be this way between us?”
“Which way do you mean?”
“Easy. Comfortable. Tingly.”
“I expect so, darlin’. Only better. What we have now is fresh-made wine. We still have the grapes between our toes. Give us a few years and our relationship will age to perfection. Deeper and more meaningful.”
“I can’t wait.” She stretched to kiss him, and not a quick brush of the lips either. The kiss singed the hair on his chest and lingered, washing over him like a midnight tide. His lady was a fast learner. Houston grinned, placing his lips to the skin laid bare above her white chemise.
Lara gave a moan and threw back her head, allowing him greater access. She slid one hand along his neck and buried her fingers in his hair.
It was worth the pain in his ribs to see the depth of her passion. To feel the wild beating of her heart. And to know she was beginning to find the courage to move on. Lara’s strength amazed him, and he nearly burst with pride.
One step at a time. That’s what Stoker always said.
Her sweet, intoxicating fragrance washed ove
r Houston. He’d remember this night for the rest of his life.
While they hadn’t yet joined bodies, they had already become as one, deep in their hearts where hopes, dreams, and deep commitment lived.
Someone standing beside the wagon cleared his throat. “Boss?”
Lara stiffened in his arms as Houston asked, “What is it, Clay?”
“Hate to bother you, but you’d best come.”
“Be right there.”
The cowboy’s footsteps moved away and Houston quickly did her dress back up.
“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Her voice quavered with fear.
Houston kissed her. “Makes two of us. Try not to worry. I’ll probably be back before you can count all those sheep in your pretty little head.”
He knew different, though. Clay wouldn’t have come for him, injured like he was, unless something big had happened. Whatever it was…it was bad.
“Keep your gun close and don’t wander from the campfire,” Houston said low.
“Okay.” Though her hands had turned icy, she remained calm.
Taking care not to move the wrong way and hurt his ribs more, he crawled from his wife’s bed. Clay Angelo stood by the fire, staring toward the herd. Houston’s gaze swept to the empty bedrolls. Every drover must be pulling guard duty.
“What’s wrong, Clay?”
“Gus King’s missing. We searched nearby but no luck. Too dangerous to go far.”
“We’ll have to wait until daylight,” Houston said. “Maybe he’ll turn up.”
“Maybe so,” Clay agreed.
Both of them seemed to know he wouldn’t. One a day Yuma had vowed.
Clay yanked off his hat and twisted it. “Another thing, boss. The men are real jittery. There’s talk of leaving while they still can. If you’re able, you need to talk to them.”
Hell!
Houston couldn’t blame them. Their lives were at stake. But how would he get these cows to Dodge by himself? Everything was slipping away—the ranch’s livelihood, the herd, and the drovers who had trusted him.
“Hopefully I can say something you haven’t,” he said.
Clay nodded once, jammed on his hat as both strode to the horses.
Houston rode to try to save the cattle drive. He fought for not only his very life but his family’s as well. He found the men in a tight knot, talking low. The group’d shrunk by another drover. Grimacing with pain in his body, along with that in his heart, he threw his leg over and slid from the saddle.
“I heard there’s talk of quitting.” He looked in each man’s face and saw fear beneath the layers of dirt, sweat, and sacrifice.
“We got no choice, Mr. Legend,” Pony Latham said. “It’s leave or die. This job ain’t worth it.”
“I understand, and if you choose to go, I’ll pay you right now.” Houston paused to let it sink in. “But if you decide to stay and help get these longhorns to Dodge, I’ll put an extra thousand in your pocket. Together we can beat Yuma Blackstone and his band of killers. I can’t do it by myself.”
“You make it hard, boss,” Joe said. “I came to ride for the Legend brand way back yonder because everyone claimed the Lone Star was a top-notch ranch. That the family took care of the men who worked for them. I found everything to be true. But this…”
“I couldn’t ask for a better group of men,” Houston said. “Neither I nor Stoker will hold your leaving against you.”
Clay stepped forward and planted his heels. “I came to get this herd to Dodge and no one, not Yuma Blackstone or anyone else, is going to keep me from it. I’ll fight ’em to the gates of hell then stab them with the devil’s own pitchfork. Boss needs our help. He’s treated us fair and asked nothing more than what he’s willing to do himself. Almost got killed tonight proving it. What do you say?”
Silence dropped over them as each looked at the other.
“I’ll stay and help find Gus,” Pony finally said. “After that I don’t know. I can’t leave him out here in this godforsaken place. He was like a brother to me.”
One by one, each decided to do the same. It was better than Houston dared hope. He glanced at Clay. The man surrounded by mystery had proven his worth yet again. Clay was a good man, and maybe that was all anyone could hope for—men you could count on around you and one very special woman.
No one came more special than Lara. He’d watched passion darken her eyes tonight. And it damn sure blazed a path across his heart.
Thirty-three
“Who saw Gus last?” Houston glanced around the circle.
“That was probably me,” Joe said. “I was playin’ my harmonica to put the herd to sleep an’ Gus sang along. When I finished, he moved north an’ I moseyed south. Never saw him again.”
“Anyone else?” Houston asked. “Who was working the north?”
Pony stepped forward. “I heard Gus singin’, if you can call his bellerin’ that, but I never saw him. Whatever happened must’ve taken place between Joe an’ me.”
“Did anyone hear anything unusual? Maybe a strange noise?”
Quaid said, “I caught what sounded like rustlin’ noises an’ a smothered groan. I called out the password—Taters—but no one answered back, so me an’ Virgil went for a look-see.”
“We didn’t find squat.” Virgil met Houston’s gaze. “No hat in the dirt or nothing. Too dark to spot drag marks.”
“Thanks, boys.” Houston laid his hand on Quaid’s shoulder. “We’ll have to wait for morning for a better look. Not wise to wander around in the dark. Anyone else hear anything? A cough, or a heel striking rocks? Maybe a cow took off and Gus went to bring it back?”
No one spoke. They had precious little to go on. It seemed as if the earth had opened up and swallowed Gus King, and right out of the middle of the herd to boot. Houston knew he had only to look in Yuma’s direction. He told the men to stay alert, and put his foot in the stirrup.
A woman’s sudden scream, followed by a gunshot rent the air, freezing him.
His heart hammering, he scrambled into the saddle. He never felt his painful ribs, not even a twinge. He only knew he had seconds to get to Lara. Nothing else was important.
The roan flew over the rocky terrain. Houston vaguely heard others behind him, but his focus was ahead. The powerful horse ate up the short distance in nothing flat. Able to make out several figures in the light of the campfire, he slid his Colt from the holster.
Had Yuma decided one a day wasn’t enough?
Please let me get there in time to stop whatever’s happening.
Gracie screamed at the top of her lungs, terrified. He yearned to go to the babe but had to rescue Lara first.
Two men were at the camp with their backs to Houston when he drew to a stop and leapt down. One held Lara’s hands above her head while she kicked him for all she was worth. Henry had thrown himself onto the other intruder’s back and clamped both hands over the man’s eyes. Caroline Vincent was pounding both interlopers’ heads and backs with a large spoon. All were so engaged in the fight, they hadn’t heard Houston and the drovers galloping up.
“Let go of me, you brute,” Lara hollered.
“When you settle down, ma’am. You tried to kill me.”
“Pity I missed.” Lara’s scathing words told of the fight still left in her. “You’re going to be very, very sorry.”
“Already am, ma’am, for a fact,” the man growled. He was awful polite to be a cold-blooded killer. And his voice—
Houston strode into the fray with his Colt leveled on the attackers. “Get your hands off my wife or I’ll blow your rotten head off.”
The men turned and both yelled at the same time, “What kept you?”
“Luke? Sam?”
Lara, breathless, her hair streaming from a long braid, rushed to Houston. “You know them?”
“They�
�re my brothers.” Remembering he still held his gun, Houston slid it back into the holster and tried to slow his breathing. Clay and the drovers followed his lead, putting their revolvers away as well. Oddly, Houston noticed Clay stepping deeper into the shadows, tugging his hat low to conceal his features. A second later, he mounted his horse and rode off.
“You met Sam once at the ranch,” Houston said, bringing his attention back to his wife. “Spent time with his wife, Sierra. But I’m sure he looks pretty scary in the dark.” He put his arm around Lara and addressed his brothers. “What do you mean sneaking up on our camp? Didn’t you tell her who you were?”
“We didn’t see anyone around, so we stopped for a minute to get warm by the fire before coming to find you. Helped ourselves to the last of the coffee,” Sam said. “Next thing we know, a bullet zings over our heads and we’re in the fight of our life. No time for explaining or saying howdy or anything. They could’ve killed us.”
Henry’s rapid breathing was loud. “No one hurts my sister. You scared the baby too.”
Gracie’s screams grew louder and more insistent. Lara pulled away from Houston and hurried to get her.
“How can we make it up to you?” Sam asked.
“By going away.” Henry turned and stalked to the wagon. The boy had already dismissed them.
“By all rights they should’ve killed you.” Houston scowled at the two. Both brothers looked done in. Their clothes were ripped and faces bore scratches. Luke stalked to his black hat and picked it up.
“We’ve got a mess of outlaws killing us,” Houston said. “So far, we’ve had to bury one drover and another is missing. Doubt we’ll find him alive.”
Lara walked back with Gracie in her arms, the babe still snuffling.
Luke stood, head bowed, his hat in his hands. “I’m real sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sam and I came to help. We’ve been riding hell-bent for leather for days trying to get here. I hope you’ll accept my apology.” He moved toward her, offering a handshake.
“I’m sorry for trying to shoot you, Luke.” Lara clasped his palm. “No hard feelings, I hope. I took you for one of Yuma’s men.”
