by Linda Broday
“So do I.” Josie smiled. Luke was getting better.
Stoker left and she leaned over and traced Luke’s mouth with a fingertip. He had the most beautiful lips. Not thick or thin, but just right, decidedly masculine and perfectly formed. She imagined a sculptor carving them from clay. After studying his mouth and running her finger across his lips, she kissed the man she loved, long and deep. Josie poured all the passion she had into it.
Ending the kiss, she whispered, “Luke, sweetheart, it’s a fine, beautiful morning here on the Lone Star. The Texas flag is flying and the birds are singing. Don’t you want to see? You’re missing out.”
Though Luke’s eyes fluttered, they didn’t open. Disappointed, she filled the chair Stoker had left. She should sing to him. Maybe he’d like that. She searched for a song. Growing up in a saloon hadn’t exactly given her a wide variety and none of the songs she knew belonged in a church. The only tune that came to mind was “Betsy Barlow, the Calico Queen.” Not exactly appropriate, but the music was pretty.
Besides, Luke was asleep. He wouldn’t mind.
As she began to sing, she raised her voice higher and higher.
Way down in Texas where the tumbleweeds blow
Lived the Calico Queen, pretty Betsy Barlow
Men blazed a wide trail to the Buckhorn Saloon
Jus’ a glimpse of her charms, the cowboys did swoon
’Mid cards ’n’ rye whiskey they fought for the harlot
Longin’ to win the fair lady in scarlet.
Nimble ’n’ quick, Betsy gave ’em a tumble
Their henrys wore smiles—
Josie stopped mid-chorus and stared in amazement.
Luke’s legs and arms twitched. A grin teased the corners of his mouth. He opened one eye then two.
He woke up!
She leaned over him. “You’re back. It’s a miracle.”
“Hey.” His voice was weak and a little rusty.
“Hey yourself, cowboy.” She slanted a kiss on his lips. “I have a lot to tell you. Brenner’s in jail and will probably be hung. I’m glad. I don’t even feel pity for the man. He tried to destroy both of us and almost succeeded. Luke, you’re cleared of everything now. You can start fresh and live your dream.”
A scowl darkened his face and anger flashed in his eyes. “Why did you marry Sam?”
Forty-one
Dark despair shot through Luke’s heart as he struggled to rise only to collapse against the pillows. Josie had betrayed him. She was the only woman he wanted and she’d married his brother—who was already married, or had Sam divorced Sierra? How long had he lain like this? It stung to the quick that Josie didn’t wait for him. She just went right on as though his love for her didn’t mean squat.
“Luke, I didn’t marry Sam,” she protested.
“I heard you, Josie.”
She stroked his jaw. “You lunkheaded man. Read my lips. I married you. Only you. I thought you were dying. Doc gave no hope, and your father said this was what I needed to do, so I married you.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t you want me?”
Hell yes, he wanted her. That was the problem.
“So you said your vows…to Sam…except you meant them for me…while I was fighting to come back to you and couldn’t do a damn thing. I had no say in the matter.”
Why was he so angry, anyway? This was what he’d wanted. From what she seemed to be trying to explain—not very well, he might add—Josie was his wife. Luke raised a hand to wipe his eyes. Maybe his brain was scrambled. Thick sludge filled the cavity up there, blocking coherent thought.
“Hold on there, Luke. The hasty marriage was Stoker’s and your brothers’ idea,” Josie said hotly. “I needed a name for our child.”
A child? What else had happened while he was unconscious?
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Exactly how long have I been asleep?”
“Three or four days. I lost count, but it seemed an eternity. I thought I’d lost you forever,” she whispered brokenly. “I was terrified.”
“Then how can we have a child? Please explain that.”
“Well, you start with a man and woman and they—”
“No, not that! I know how it starts,” he said impatiently. “Do you think it’s possible?”
“I don’t know yet, but it is possible. Stoker wanted to protect Luke Jr., in case.” Josie’s gentle touch as she stroked his hair felt like the caress of an angel’s wings. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, sweetheart. I tried to do the right thing. The quick marriage seemed best at the time.” She stood straight, frowning. “I’m puzzled how you heard all that, anyway. What else did you hear?”
He grinned. “The song you were singing. At first I thought it was an angel, but then I knew no holy being would sing such a bawdy tune. You’re a bad, bad girl, Josie.”
She returned his grin. “I know. But it was the only one I knew all the words to. Every night cowboys in the saloon would belt out ‘Betsy Barlow, the Calico Queen.’ The song would echo up and down the street of Medicine Springs. I thought you might like it.”
Though moving took all his effort and made his chest burn like a raging fire, he made room and patted the empty spot. “Come here, wife. I want you next to me. I’m as weak as a day-old pup but I can still run my fingers over your skin.”
She lay on her side, facing him, and cupped his jaw. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. I never meant to cause you worry.” Luke fell into the depths of her hazel eyes. “You’re even more beautiful than I remembered in my long sleep. Never doubt my love for you. It’s the strong and lasting kind.” He frowned. “But, don’t ever marry Sam again.”
As she leaned in to kiss him, he caught a tendril of her hair between his fingers. Silky, just like he remembered. Though he was much too weak now, he couldn’t wait to get Josie into a real bed and make her crazy with need. Luke touched her cheek, still bruised from Brenner’s hand. He was going to make that, plus a lot more, up to her.
He’d make her love being wife to an outlaw.
Except, apparently, he no longer had that title. Luke grinned. It would take some getting used to. He’d been hunted and reviled for most of his life.
Josie kissed the hollow of his throat. “You’re not angry I married you when you were unconscious, are you?”
“Mi corazón, I’ll take you any way I can get you. I still have questions, and I want you to start at the beginning and tell me everything. But not now. Right now, I just want to talk about us.”
Josie wiggled, fitting her curves against him. “I love you, Luke. I didn’t exactly know how much until faced with losing you.”
“I can see a forever in your beautiful eyes.” Luke laid his hand over her heart, feeling the wild beat beneath. He’d never known such contentment and love. But also fear. He vowed not to fail Josie like he’d done Angelina and his mother. He finally had a chance to get this right, and he’d not waste it.
“I can see heaven in yours,” Josie murmured.
“Do I have all the answers? Hell no. But I can promise you this, my pretty wife. I’ll wake each morning with one purpose—to make life as good for you as I can.”
“That’s beautiful but more than I ask, sweetheart. I just need you to simply hold me, love me, and never leave me. That’s all. The rest we’ll work out as we go. You’re going to be the best husband and father.”
This new chapter of his life was a far cry from the lonely existence he’d known. It would take some time not to look over his shoulder and startle at every sound. His new life would have new challenges, but he looked forward to starting.
He grinned. “I’m glad you really might be in the family way.”
“It’s too early to tell, though.”
The door swung open and Stoker strode in with his coffee. He stopped, staring in disbelief. “You’re back, son.
By God, you’re back.”
Josie swung to her feet, straightening her hair and looking guilty. Luke didn’t know why women did that. As though patting on their hair was going to make one iota of difference.
He turned his attention to his father. “Pa.” The word was still unfamiliar on his tongue but Luke liked it. He liked the belonging it brought. And to think a bullet to the chest had broken down all his defenses and let the feelings inside.
“This is truly a day to celebrate.” Stoker sat down. “Your brothers will be grinning from ear to ear.”
“Tell me about my marriage to Josie that I wasn’t at, Pa. Is it legal?” But as his father began to explain the proxy thing, Luke drifted off, with the warmth of family and home surrounding him.
He jerked awake to Noah touching his face. He stared up into the boy’s worried eyes.
“Me and Rowdy had to see if you’re really alive.” Noah held his wiggling dog.
“I’m alive, son. Sorry to scare you. I’m glad you’re doing better.”
“Doc says I can ride soon. Papa Stoker is going to show me the ranch and start teaching me.” Noah grinned and leaned in to whisper, “I think he likes me.”
“No thinking to it. He does a lot more than like you.” Luke smiled. “So do I.”
“Do you want to pet Rowdy? He missed you.”
“Sure.” When Noah lowered the dog, Luke ran his hand over the soft fur. Rowdy licked his appreciation. “How is he getting along with the cat?”
“They’re making do. Sometimes they hate each other and sometimes not. I don’t think they’ll ever be friends but that’s okay.” Noah shrugged. “We don’t always have to like everybody, so it’s the same way with dogs and cats. Papa Stoker says that’s the way of things.”
“He’s a wise man, your Papa Stoker.” It just took Luke so long to see it.
He glanced up at his mother’s portrait. If only she’d told Stoker about his son when she came to the ranch. Luke didn’t fault her, though. She’d done what she thought was right, and had refused to put a wedge between Stoker and his wife, Hannah. Elena’s sole thought had been Stoker’s happiness. Luke wondered if she’d have made different choices had she known the hard life she’d lead. No one would ever know.
Josie stepped inside the office and his breath caught. Her golden hair glistened, framing her face, and a new dress the color of a purple Texas sunset brought a glow to her cheeks.
How on earth did he get so lucky?
His wild and wonderful and unpredictable wife had shown him what living really meant. She’d swept away all the ash inside and replaced it with fertile soil so new dreams and plans could grow tall.
He was no longer Luke Weston, outlaw and gunslinger. He was Luke Legend, husband and rancher—part owner of the enormous Lone Star ranch.
And God, how he adored Josie Legend.
His wife.
Forty-two
A month later, though still weak, Luke sat on the porch enjoying the beautiful morning. Fluffy summer clouds drifted overhead. Josie glanced up from where she was arranging shaving essentials, letting her gaze caress the man she loved. It was time for Luke’s beard to go; she preferred him without all that hair. She’d already cut the beard short with the scissors and came at him with a sharp straight razor, ready to complete the task.
“We don’t have to do this.” Luke gave her a nervous look.
“Don’t tell me I scare you. I know how to wield one of these.” She lathered up the soap and approached.
Luke narrowed his eyes. “Just how many men have you shaved?”
“Well, none, but I know it can’t be that hard.” She applied a thick lather to his face.
“Can you hold it while I write a will?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! I’m not going to cut your throat. Unless you squirm. Or the razor slips. Or—”
Luke grabbed the white cloth she’d draped around him and tried to get up. “My brothers can do it.”
Josie blocked him with a quick arm. “I swear, Luke, you’re acting worse than Noah. I’ll be careful.” She’d rather hurt herself than harm one hair on his head.
With the sharp razor in her hand, she slowly proceeded, making careful strokes. By the time she finished, he didn’t have one nick. Her heart beat wildly. No one was more handsome than Luke. In her opinion, which was the only one that counted. She loved her new husband with every fiber of her being and couldn’t wait for him to recover enough to show him.
After putting everything away, she scooted next to him on a wicker settee. A gentle breeze lifted her hair as she threaded her fingers through his. “I’m so happy, I’m about to burst.”
Luke’s pale-green eyes darkened. “Why’s that?”
“My husband is getting well, you don’t have to hide, we’re here safe and sound, and life seems just about perfect. I feel like singing.”
Luke grinned. “Not the Calico Queen. Do you know any others, Mrs. Legend?”
Josie widened her eyes in mock horror. “You don’t like my song?”
“I love it, but the cowboys might hear and come running, thinking we’ve opened a saloon. Then Stoker…Pa…and Houston would get mad about losing in poker.” Luke nibbled her neck. “Sing it to me in private.”
Josie released several buttons on his shirt and slipped her hand inside, avoiding the bandage covering the wound. She loved touching his skin. Biding time, waiting for him to get well, was killing her.
Luke had spent the past month resting and growing stronger. The days were filled with long talks with his father, and the nights… Oh, the nights were for Josie. The minute the sun went down, she and Luke would lock themselves in their bedroom. They spent hours exploring each other’s bodies, but there had been no lovemaking yet. Doc strictly forbade that pleasure, saying they had to restrain from strenuous activity. It frustrated her to no end.
Still, Luke knew how to build a raging bonfire inside her with his hands and mouth until the explosion would bring relief and leave her as weak and trembling as a day-old calf. Yet she yearned to show her husband the value of a wife and make him hoarsely cry her name.
Josie ran her flattened palm down the sides of his chest. “Luke, I want to make love to you until I wring every drop of passion from your body.”
His voice roughened. “Tonight, you get your wish.”
She searched his eyes. “Are you sure it’s all right?”
“We’re making love tonight,” he growled, adding, “I don’t care if it harelips the governor.”
* * *
Anticipation swept the length of Luke’s body and hardened him like a randy bull. He was done with waiting. He’d have his fill of Josie before morning. Doc could get glad in the same shoes he got mad in. Luke had to get on with living.
Josie laughed and pointed to a basket at the end of the porch. There, curled up together as cozy as could be, lay Rowdy and Rafael. Hated enemies making a truce at last.
Two riders came down the road, catching Luke’s attention. From the wary way they rode, Luke knew they weren’t ranch hands. His eyes narrowed as he rose and leaned against the post.
Josie stood and slipped her arm around him. “Who do you think they are?”
“Not sure yet.” Luke felt naked without his Colt and wished he’d strapped it on. If these men had brought trouble, he couldn’t handle it.
A few minutes later, they reined up outside the headquarters and Luke recognized their faces. Happiness spread through him to see Clay Colby again. His partner was Jack Bowdre, an ex-lawman turned outlaw.
Luke grinned. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Get down and make yourselves at home.”
“Howdy, Luke.” Jack Bowdre pushed back his worn Stetson and dismounted. “We were told we might find you here.”
“Jack, it’s been a while. I’ve wondered how things were going.”
Clay swung wearily from the saddle. “Not in jail, so must be pretty darn good. Did you ever find Reno Kidd?”
“I did and I’m glad to say he won’t bother anyone ever again.” Luke pulled Josie close. “Gentlemen, I’m not riding the outlaw trail anymore. Married now and settling down for good. This is my wife, Josie.”
Both tipped their hats respectfully to her and called her ma’am.
“You’re welcome to cool off on the porch,” Josie invited. “I’ll get some refreshments.”
“Mighty nice of you, ma’am.” Clay glanced longingly around the ranch where he’d once worked. “We won’t stay long. Just need some advice, Luke.”
Advice? Luke didn’t know if he had any, except never to stop giving up reaching for their dream. Luke waved them to empty chairs. “Tell me what this is about while my wife gets some lemonade.”
Noah opened the door and sidled up to Luke, eyeing the visitors cautiously.
“Is he your boy?” Jack asked.
Luke ruffled the kid’s hair. “If he wants to be. Up to him. Name’s Noah.”
“Luke found me and I live here now with my dog,” Noah said quietly.
“Lucky boy,” Jack said.
“You sort of remind me of Henry,” Clay said quietly. “How’s Lara’s little brother doing?”
“He seems to be all right after his ordeal on the cattle drive,” Luke answered. “He and Lara ask about you every time I see them. Houston got a good drover when he hired you.”
They caught up on all the news. Luke told them he’d cleared his name and was a Legend now. “Heard Brenner McCall drew a prison sentence for life,” Luke said. “I’m fine with that. I didn’t want him to hang.” He turned when Josie came out the door and helped her with the tray.
She filled the glasses with cold lemonade. She was the perfect wife—gracious and charming. Luke burst with pride and put an arm around her. Jack and Clay watched her with envy as she and Luke sat down on the wicker settee.
Luke had something few men did, and gratitude washed over him. He’d never envisioned this life. Never in his wildest dreams had he pictured a woman like Josie, full of love for him.
