To Marry a Texas Outlaw

by Linda Broday

  “Now, Pa,” Houston said. “I thought you were going to stop pressuring Luke.”

  “Ain’t pressure I have in mind. Just want my long-lost son close by to share in the running of this spread. I have more than enough to go around. This is Legend land run by Legend men, and by God that’s the way it’s going to be,” Stoker thundered and slammed his fist down.

  Rowdy yelped and ran to Josie. She murmured soothing words to stop his quivering.

  Unperturbed, Cook pushed through the door with a bowl filled with some kind of meat. The hefty woman must’ve heard and seen everything over the years, since nothing seemed to faze her now. Josie set Rowdy on the floor and Cook plunked down the bowl.

  After getting Josie’s breakfast order, Cook disappeared back into her domain.

  Josie grinned at Luke. “Is it always this way?”

  “Yep. Pretty much.” He glanced at her hand resting on the table, memories swirling in his mind like colorful autumn leaves. Last night, lying in the moonlight beneath the huge bronze star with their fingers intertwined, had been one of the most special times he’d ever known. Not since Angelina had he felt this much peace.

  God, Josie had looked so beautiful, bathed in the moon’s silvery rays. But she looked even more breathtaking now in the breakfast room with the sun striking her hair, creating a halo around her head.

  Not that he would ever call her saintly. He suppressed a grin. But that’s what appealed to him. She was real and you got exactly what you saw, without any apology for shortcomings. The lady stood nose to nose with him, daring him, not afraid to voice her opinions even when he glared.

  “Luke?”

  He jerked his head toward Houston. “What?”

  “Just wondering about your plans,” Houston said. “I’d like to talk before you ride out.”

  “I have to check on the boy and get the horses ready. I need to cover some ground today, but I can spare a little time for catching up while I wait for Josie to get ready.” He remembered Houston’s little girl. “How’s Gracie these days?”

  Houston chuckled. “Still ruling the roost and laying down the law. She’s quite a general at one and a half years old.”

  Luke shook his head. “I pity you. Just think how bossy she’ll be by the time she’s grown. And that pretty wife, Lara?”

  “Sam doesn’t know this yet, but she’s in the family way.”

  “Congratulations. That’s wonderful.”

  “Maybe you’ll have a son this time, Houston.” Stoker laughed. “He’d better be a tough one—Gracie will make everyone toe the line.”

  “That she will,” Houston agreed. “I won’t have to keep my shotgun handy when suitors come courting. She’ll handle them.”

  His brother’s glow told Luke how much having a son would mean to him. Houston was as driven as Stoker to keep the Legend name and Lone Star Ranch going for generations to come. A huge part of Luke yearned for that too. Somehow, he had to make his mark, leave something lasting. Much more than a life of crime and a .45 that had seen far too much use.

  A sudden yearning rose with a surprising realization.

  He wanted a piece of this land.

  To be a part of this legacy.

  To be a Legend and wear the name proudly.

  Fifteen

  Luke had the uncomfortable sensation that his chair had been struck by a jagged bolt of lightning. But the hunger rising up was for more than just land and a name. He had to leave something lasting that his family could speak of with pride. He had to matter to someone. Luke glanced at the faces around the breakfast table. Lord knows he hadn’t yet given them anything to brag about.

  Them or any children he might have.

  Josie folded her hands in her lap and her pretty, hazel eyes took on a faraway look. “Houston, you’re one lucky man. I often wonder if I have children waiting somewhere. I love kids. Maybe one day I’ll find out what I left behind.”

  “You will,” Houston said with a wink. “There’s no one better than my brother to help you.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” she said. Cook brought her food and she picked up her fork. “What time will we leave, Luke? I want to talk to Noah and change clothes before we head out.”

  “How about two hours? I want to visit with him too.”

  “It’s perfect.” She flashed him a smile that quickened his heartbeat before turning back to her plate of food.

  Stoker gulped the last of his coffee and rose. “I have some work to do but I’ll be back to see you and Josie off.”

  Houston shot Luke a glance. “How about we talk?”

  Josie seemed to sense Luke’s hesitation. “Go on, you two. I’m a big girl. I’m sure you have things to discuss.”

  Luke nodded. “All right. I’ll be down at the corral if you need anything.”

  He and Houston strode out. They didn’t speak until they left headquarters.

  “You old rascal! What’s this between you and Josie?” Houston bumped him with his shoulder. “She’s pretty, but she must not be too smart to take up with someone like you.”

  “Hold it right there. If we did have something going, which we don’t by the way, she’d show uncommon good sense.” Luke loved the teasing, the lighthearted moments with his brothers. The fact that they included him filled something deep inside.

  Luke sobered. “I ran into Clay Colby a month or two ago.”

  “How’s he doing? I think about him from time to time and wonder if he’s hung up his gun.” Houston tugged his hat lower against the early morning sun. “Even if he was an outlaw and gunslinger, he made a hell of a drover for me on that cattle drive to Dodge City last year.”

  Luke nodded. “I’d ride the trail with him any day. He didn’t make it, Houston. Sure, he bought that little spread he wanted, but men looking to make a name wouldn’t let him work the land or put in crops. He’s drifting again.”

  They reached the corral and Luke propped one booted foot on the bottom rail.

  Houston stared into the distance. “I was afraid of that.” Deep sadness dripped from the quiet words.

  “You know it’ll be the same for me. How can I ever hope to make a life here? These people on the ranch don’t know what it’s like to live a life that’s only violence. I shudder to imagine their reaction to having an outlaw in their midst. Tell me that, brother.”

  “Wish I knew, Luke. Dammit!” Houston leaned against the rail. “You know Pa, Sam, and me will fight them for you and send the devils right back where they came from with their tails between their legs.”

  Quick anger flared. “I don’t hide behind my family. Not behind anyone. I fight my own battles, head-on like I always have. Nor have I ever run. Although a few times I should’ve.”

  The day Angie died flashed into his mind.

  The same anger flashed from Houston’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. We’ll fight alongside, not take over.”

  Luke snorted. “Stoker not taking over? I’ve gotta see that.” The man had his finger in everything.

  “Okay, not a good choice of words either.” Houston pushed back his hat with a forefinger. “We’ll help you build a life, but you have to want it. Want it way down deep in your soul. You have to want it so damn bad you don’t care if you eat, sleep, or breathe.”

  “I never cared much before when it was just me. I accepted trouble as coming part and parcel with the kind of life I chose.” Luke let out a weary sigh that seemed to rise all the way from his toes. “But now—now that I have you, Sam, and Stoker, I need more.” So much that it scared the bejesus out of him.

  Because now he stood to lose the family he’d never had if he failed.

  That vulnerability instilled fear so deep inside it made him tremble.

  But should he expect anything less?

  He’d charged headlong into his fate the first tim
e he’d taken a man’s life. There was no question Jarvis Niles, a customer Elena Montoya washed and ironed for, had deserved to die. He’d humiliated Luke’s mother in a way no one ever had a right to do. And all over shirts! Angry that she hadn’t laundered his shirts exactly the way he wanted, that rich, arrogant bastard had made her crawl across the floor on her hands and knees and lick his muddy boots.

  Only a kid then, Luke hadn’t realized the high price of taking a life.

  Now that he was grown, he saw he might’ve handled things differently. Then again, maybe not.

  Sixteen years later, Luke’s blood still boiled.

  His mother never licked another man’s boots again.

  Next to him, Houston leaned against the rail. “Don’t let anything stand in your way. By God, you have to fight like a demon, Luke.”

  “I do that every day just trying to stay alive. There’s a man out there somewhere looking to kill me right now. Munroe O’Keefe has sworn to put me six feet under by any means necessary. Bragged about doing it. And he’s just one in a hundred.” Luke scrubbed the back of his neck and let out a weary sigh. “I get so damn tired of looking over my shoulder, listening for the sound of the bullet that will send me to hell. Waiting for it to rip into me.”

  “That’s no way to live, Luke. Gotta be something better. Has to be. How is the search for Ned Sweeney going?” Houston asked. “We’ve sent out hundreds of telegrams. One person says he’s here, another there. Nothing has panned out.”

  “I was an hour away from catching him when I rode up on Josie. Two of Reno Kidd’s men were there with a Lone Star wagon and team of horses.”

  “Sam told me. They were stolen,” Houston said. “A ranch hand named Max disappeared ’round the same time. I sent someone out there and they found his body riddled with holes. Sam and I think Reno Kidd and his men probably killed him. Maybe for the horses and wagon. Might’ve intended to sell them.”

  The likelihood had also entered Luke’s head. Reno was an outlaw of opportunity. He stole everything he came across and killed the same way. No point to it, no rhyme or reason.

  “Was Max hauling anything of value?” Luke asked.

  “That’s the thing. Max was taking a load of posts to the southwest section of the ranch to build a holding corral for some wild horses we’re trying to catch. Nothing to kill anyone over. Never found the posts, though.”

  Luke’s thoughts tumbled like rocks down the side of a mountain, gaining speed as they went. The remote land was the perfect place for an ambush. “I’m thinking they saw Max alone. Finding nothing of value to steal, they decided to take the wagon and horses. They probably didn’t think beyond that moment. Reno Kidd is rotten clear down to the soles of his feet.”

  Houston swung around. “Why did they have the whiskey and rifles in the wagon when you found it? Where did they get those?”

  “I’m sure they robbed someone else that day. Or the merchandise could’ve belonged to Josie and her husband. They could’ve been hauling those crates and Winchesters to a mercantile they owned.” Luke wouldn’t know for sure until Josie’s memory came back. “The gang was probably liquored up real good. Reno and his gang appear to have gone on some kind of murdering, stealing rampage.”

  “Why take Josie? Why not kill her?”

  “For insurance, is what Reno’s men said. In case they were caught, they had her to bargain with.” A thought flashed through his head. “The posse claimed Josie killed her husband. But who told them that? Josie was out cold. I have to get to Doan’s Crossing. I need to find Reno and his gang and beat some answers out of them.”

  “Don’t we all,” Houston said dryly.

  “Yeah.” Luke prayed he could wring the truth out of someone. He had something special in mind for Reno. He’d dispense some more Legend justice. Luke liked making wrongdoers pay.

  He liked it a whole lot.

  Sixteen

  Noah opened his eyes and slowly looked around before he focused on her. “Where am I, Josie?”

  She leaned forward from her chair beside the bed and took his hand. His voice was weak but that was probably natural after being so sick. Relief swept through her that he knew her. Maybe he was going to make it.

  “We’re at Luke’s father’s place—the Lone Star Ranch. You’ve been very sick. I was real worried about you. Luke too.”

  Rowdy crawled up on Noah’s chest to lick the boy’s face. The little dog appeared to have been mighty worried too. Sorrow still filled the dog’s large, brown eyes.

  “Uncle Bert can’t get me?”

  “Nope. You’re safe. Luke killed him, remember?”

  Noah drew his brows together. “Everything’s all jumbled up. I’m glad he’s dead.”

  “Me too.” She felt his forehead and found it cool. “Are you in any pain?”

  “My stomach kinda hurts.”

  “It’ll get better. You’re a survivor, Noah. Like me. We’ve been through a lot but we’re still here.”

  The door opened and Luke sauntered in. She loved the slow, loose-jointed way he moved, a steadiness that could change to lightning-fast when the need arose. He met her gaze and her heart pounded. He’d stopped shaving so he could disguise himself after they left here, and the dark growth along his jaw projected danger—the lethal kind. He reminded her of a coiled snake, lying silently in wait, ready to strike with little warning.

  His brow lifted and he scowled as he took in her pants and shirt. Disappointment that she’d changed out of the dress?

  Maybe.

  Probably.

  Of a surety.

  All of a sudden, she yearned to be a lady. To take a bath every day and fix her hair—to be more feminine. Not to have to worry about a killer with dirty-yellow hair and brown teeth. Or her stolen memory.

  “Hi, Luke,” Noah said, breaking the spell.

  “Noah, I’m glad to see you come around.” Luke moved to the bed, and Josie found herself struggling to breathe. His large presence seemed to consume all the air in the room. “How do you feel, boy?” he asked.

  “Better.” Noah glanced down and mumbled, “Sorry I made trouble. Didn’t mean to.”

  The bed sagged when Luke sat down next to Noah. “Never apologize for what someone else does. Your uncle bears the blame for the problem. Understand?”

  Noah nodded.

  “I don’t know if Josie told you, but we’re riding out,” Luke said gently.

  “Where are my clothes?” Noah tried to rise but Luke held him down. Josie’s eyes stung. Even hurt, the boy wanted to come with them.

  “I’m afraid you’re too banged up.” Luke patted the lump in the covers where Noah’s leg was. “For now, I have to leave you here. It’s too dangerous anyway. My… Stoker Legend is a real nice man and he’ll take good care of you until I get back.”

  Josie’s anger rose that he hadn’t included her in the coming back part. He had to be thinking he could get rid of her. “I’ll be back too, Noah. You belong to us now.”

  She wasted the glare she shot Luke because he totally ignored her, smoothing out the quilt with his long, elegant fingers. Those fingers that had traced the line of her jaw and brushed her cheek as though she was worth something. At least in the dark of night. In the daytime, he appeared to think differently.

  A silly grin covered Noah’s face. “Belonging—I like that.”

  Stoker entered the room and had evidently overheard the conversation. He walked to the bed. “You don’t have to worry, son. You also have a home here if you want it. We need each other, you and me. My boys are grown now and I’m told I need something to occupy my time.”

  Josie watched Luke meet his father’s piercing stare and something passed between them. Maybe the glance said things they couldn’t put into words. Maybe it was a start for both father and outcast son. The longing on both their faces held promise.

  Tak
e this morning over breakfast. She’d noticed subtle gestures and glances that spoke of Luke’s thirst to claim his father’s love. The almost touch of his hand when he passed Stoker the coffeepot. The way Luke had stared at his father from beneath lowered lids when he thought no one was watching. And the quiet respect in Luke’s voice when he spoke to Stoker.

  Noah appeared to be the bridge they needed and it could lead to healing. Maybe for all three.

  Damn Luke anyway! Why he kept putting up walls around himself she didn’t know. He was a god-awful stubborn cuss. He’d dug in his heels so deep she doubted a team of mules, twenty men, and two boys could pull him out.

  But his hungry kisses had lit a raging fire inside her.

  The memory of last night in the moonlight when he took her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers flooded her mind. He’d vowed to one day take her somewhere private and make passionate love to her.

  He’d said he wanted her and she damn sure wanted him.

  She silently cursed the missing past that barred her from finding heaven in Luke’s bed. But she knew he was right. They couldn’t give in to passion. Not yet.

  Of one thing she was certain. Even if the murdered man at Doan’s Crossing was not her husband, even if she found out that she was married to another man, that couldn’t quench her love for Luke. The handsome outlaw wasn’t the sort of man a woman could forget.

  She saw how much he loved kids. For example, now he was plumping the pillow, making sure Noah was comfortable.

  The boy squinted up at Stoker. “Mr. Legend, thank you for the offer. I’ll help you until I get well, but I can’t promise to stay here after that.”

  “Noah, call him Stoker.” Luke’s hand slid down the boy’s hair before stepping back.

  “My son’s right. I’m not mister anybody. I understand that me and this place don’t much feel like home yet, but maybe that’ll change one day.” Stoker draped an arm across Luke’s shoulders. “Cook has a burlap sack of food ready for you and Miss Josie.”