by Caroline Lee
Opening his mouth to defend his mother, Lucas paused. He had to admit in this case, Verrick was right. His mother’s plan was seriously flawed, and if Lucas had really considered what he knew of Pierce’s character, he would’ve realized a wife and baby wouldn’t stop the man. Maybe Mother had just been desperate for a grandchild and had used Pierce as an excuse.
When Lucas didn’t respond, the older man nodded once, then removed a piece of paper from his vest pocket. Unfolding it, he beckoned Lucas closer.
The hand-drawn map he smoothed out on the table was a remarkable representation of Sunset Valley. It wasn’t until Verrick removed a pencil from his pocket and began to label one of the property borders—the Pierce spread, in fact—that Lucas realized the gunslinger had been the artist.
“These are the most likely routes for Baker to take, were he to come directly from Pierce’s property.” He marked paths on the map as Lucas pulled out a chair to join him. “If he were to come from town, then these are the routes he would take. I propose we—”
“He’s been camping out on my land. Not since you got here, but I think it’s likely he’ll just keep watching and waiting for a chance to strike from here.”
Lucas pointed to one of the spots he remembered finding a campsite a few weeks back. To his surprise, there was a notation there already. Curious, he checked on the other locations of Baker’s known campsites. They were all marked, as well as others Lucas and Blake hadn’t noticed. Suspicious now, Lucas met Verrick’s golden gaze across the table. “These were Baker’s campsites.”
“No, they were not.”
Lucas worked his jaw. “They were yours.”
It wasn’t a question, but Verrick nodded once.
“You spied on my property for weeks before you made yourself known to me?” Why in the hell would a man who was interested in making money do something so time-consuming and worthless as that?
The other man didn’t respond, but just stared impassively back, refusing to explain. The muscles in Lucas’s jaw ached to yell, to lash out at someone. But the part of him that recognized danger also knew this man wasn’t Pierce, wasn’t Baker. In the week he’d been working for Lucas, Verrick hadn’t done anything to threaten the Ryans. He must have his own reasons for spying on them—maybe he collected information on all of his clients before he agreed to accept the jobs?
Finally, Lucas exhaled and sat back in his chair. “I knew Pierce had hired Baker, and when we found the campsites, we assumed Baker was keeping an eye on us. It was one of the reasons I sent that second telegram.”
“I never received it.”
One side of Lucas’s mouth pulled upward in a wry grin as he raked his hand through his hair. “Obviously. Because you were already here.” He focused on the map once more. “If those weren’t Baker’s campsites, then maybe things aren’t as dire as I’d thought?”
“Unlikely.” Verrick placed the pencil down, aligning it precisely with one edge. “But Pierce is the greater threat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Baker is being paid by Pierce. The man only works for cash, so if Pierce were no longer a threat to you, then Baker would not be either.”
That was a reasonable explanation, and Lucas had to admit he’d had the thought in the past that, if Pierce were to die somehow, all of Lucas’s worries would disappear. But Lucas wasn’t the kind of man to wish ill on someone else; all he wanted was to work hard and build his ranch up. He had no plans to threaten Pierce, hence hiring Verrick for protection against Baker, who Lucas still considered the bigger threat.
So he narrowed his eyes. “How do you know so much about Two-Grins Baker?”
Verrick hesitated—out of character for him—and then said only, “We have had some contact in the past.”
“’Some contact?’” One of Lucas’s brows rose. “Did you give him that big scar on his throat, his second grin?”
“Yes.” That was all Verrick said, before picking up the pencil once more. “Do you wish to hear my suggestions for defense of your home?”
Lucas sat forward once more, his finger on the map where the ranch house sat. “First, promise me you’ll protect Shannon. She cannot be hurt in this, no matter what Baker tries to do to me.”
Slowly, Verrick’s intense gaze climbed up Lucas’s finger and arm until the older man was staring into his eyes. His expression gave nothing away, no indication of what he was thinking, and Lucas swallowed, wondering what it was about his request that caused such focus.
Finally, Verrick spoke. “You love her.”
It wasn’t a question, but Lucas took a deep breath and nodded. “I didn’t expect to, when I sent for a mail-order bride, but she’s just about perfect. I know we’ve only been married a month, but I can’t imagine living without her or that wild sister of hers.” He sat up straighter, feeling somehow freer with the admission. “Yeah, I love her, and I’d do anything to keep her safe.” He met the older man’s eyes once more. “So you have to promise me you’ll protect her.”
Something he’d said had gained Verrick’s approval, apparently. The gunslinger nodded once. “Agreed.” And then he placed the tip of the pencil to the map and raised one brow, which was practically a speech from him.
Nodding in response to the unasked question, Lucas bent over the map. “Show me what we need to do then.”
And as Verrick outlined his theories on how Baker would attack, Lucas tried to focus. But all he could think about was that he’d put Shannon in danger. He’d been the one to bring her here, just to get an heir. But now, her becoming pregnant would put her in even more trouble. Everything he’d prayed so hard for would just be reason for Pierce to hurt her. To kill her.
And here was Lucas putting all of his faith in a gunslinger he barely knew. Verrick was Shannon’s best hope now, because Lucas couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose her laughter, her comfort, her beauty. Couldn’t lose his wife.
Couldn’t lose the woman he loved.
Chapter Five
Good thing it was summertime, or else Shannon would have to stay inside to throw up. This was the third morning she’d woken before Lucas—as usual, in order to start breakfast—swung her legs over the side of the bed, and was struck with a wave of nausea. And like the last few days, she’d thrown on her robe, rushed downstairs and out the back door, before she’d lost what little remained in her stomach. And just like the last few days, as soon as she’d had a drink of cold water, she felt better.
And now she fixed coffee for her husband, not sure if she should be ecstatic at what her symptoms meant, or devastated.
She was pregnant, and that’s all she’d ever wanted. A baby! Her hand caressed the front of her robe as she fetched down the sugar. She was going to have a baby, who would love her unconditionally. It was what Lucas wanted too…and that’s the thought which gave her pause.
He wanted an heir, that was the reason he’d married her. But once he found out she was carrying, how would he react? There’d be no more reason for him to reach for her in the darkness in their bedroom. No more reason for that slow grin he sometimes got when she caught him watching her rear end. No more reason for his teasing touches.
More than just the love-making, she’d come to cherish the way he treated her with respect and caring, and how he asked her opinion about things. He might not love her, but she was very much in love with him, and to have him put her aside now that she was carrying his heir would crush her.
When Lucas came downstairs, she made sure none of her thoughts showed on her face, and just gave him a smile. He returned it, but had been distracted since yesterday. Something had happened, but he wasn’t telling her. As usual. It was hard not to be hurt when he blocked her out from important discussions, but she reminded herself she deserved it, lying to him like she had.
He did stop to kiss her gently, before patting her rear end and trudging out the back door toward the barn. He’d be back soon with eggs and milk for breakfast—and to finish his coffee—but in the meanti
me, Shannon could put together the rest of the meal.
She began to mix the ingredients for the biscuits Lucas enjoyed. They were also a favorite of Cora’s, but they’d run out of the jam her sister preferred over the butter. Shannon made a note to remind Lucas to have more picked up next time he or one of the hands went into town.
She hadn’t been into Black Aces with him since last week, when they’d gone to the bank. The townspeople had been nice enough to her during all of her visits, but they inevitably stared at her face. It might be best to just let Lucas go in without her so he wouldn’t have to be seen with her.
She turned from the side counter and almost dropped the butter crock with a shrill gasp.
“Verrick!” Her other hand pressed against her chest, as if she could still her racing heart. “You startled me.”
The gunslinger’s all-black clothing blended in with the shadows by the backdoor. How long had he been standing there? And how in the world did he manage to move so quietly?
He raised a single blonde brow, as if to say “No, really?” and she found herself smiling at how obvious her statement had been.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But could you maybe work on not startling me next time?” Who would imagine she could tease such an infamous gunslinger? Certainly not her when she’d met him last week. But since he’d been at Sunset Valley—sleeping who knew where—Shannon had realized his reputation was based mainly on his attitude. The man never smiled or gave any sort of expression that she could see. He was hard and intimidating and not a little scary…but hadn’t done anything that was actually worrying. In fact, he’d been polite and respectful to her and Cora both, and even towards Lucas.
Unfortunately, that didn’t extend to conversation topics. “Whether you startle or not is up to you.”
She exhaled and sent him a chagrined smile before turning back to the bowl. “Well, yes, but you could help by not sneaking up on me.”
“I don’t sneak.”
She snorted. “You definitely sneak.” She’d turned her back on Verrick, the man her brothers feared, and hadn’t thought anything of it. “Perhaps you could try calling a greeting tomorrow morning so I don’t scream and throw the butter at you.”
“I would’ve caught it.”
“Of course. But go ahead, and try.” She was smiling openly now, at her biscuit dough. Would he be offended if he saw it? Would he realize she was teasing him?
“A greeting.” Was that a hint of skepticism in his voice?
“Try a ‘good morning’.”
He moved into her line of vision, and Shannon struggled to control her grin. “The state of your morning won’t change simply because I wish you a good one.”
She didn’t look up as she cut some butter into the mix. “Sure it will.”
“I don’t see how.”
This time she let him see her smile when she met his eyes. “Because you can improve someone’s day just by letting them know you hope they have a good day.”
He stared at her for a while. The man was good at staring. Creepy, almost, with those gold eyes. Lucas’s eyes were a few shades darker, but where his were warm and full of laughter, Verrick’s were…not. The gunslinger might be handsome—blonde hair was incongruous on someone with as dark a reputation as he had—but his lack of expression and the coldness in his eyes made him far scarier.
“Your day would be improved if I wished it?”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “My day would be improved because I knew you wanted me to have a good day. Because you care about how my day goes! That’s the whole point of the greeting.”
His chin dipped. “Interesting.”
She couldn’t help the laugh which burst free then. “You’re quite odd, Verrick. You know that, don’t you?”
“Your husband said something similar yesterday, yes.”
She laughed again, wondering if this good mood was really a result of teasing a dangerous gunslinger, or because it was a nice day, or because she was finally going to have the baby she’d been dreaming about. Humming, she began to slice the bacon to fry, then glanced up to see Verrick still watching her.
It was hard to tell, considering how impassive his expression usually was, but right now he looked…almost wistful.
Her knife halted. “Mr. Verrick?”
“Have you told him?”
Told him? “Told who? Told him what?”
“Have you told Lucas you’re pregnant?”
Carefully, Shannon set the knife down, her heart pounding in her ears. How did he know? Had he seen her throwing up? “Is it that obvious?”
“No.” Verrick shifted slightly, then inhaled. “He would want to know.”
“I’m planning on telling him, just…” Why was she having this conversation with this man? “I’m just waiting for a good time.”
Golden eyes flicked around the room as if looking for trouble. “You might not have the luxury of a good time.”
Something about the way he said it made her even more nervous. “Is this about Pierce?”
“Two-Grins Baker is Lucas’s bigger concern right now.”
Two-Grins Baker! “Good heavens!” she burst out. “You mean there are two gunslingers hanging around?” When she saw his lips tighten into a thin line, she was quick to apologize. “No offense, Verrick, but one of you is enough for me.”
When he nodded, she exhaled, her gaze coming to rest on the knife.
“You mean to tell me Pierce has hired the most notorious gunslinger in the west?”
“Second-most notorious.”
In surprise, she looked up. “Was that a joke, Mr. Verrick?”
His monotone didn’t change. “It was an attempt.”
But she couldn’t smile, not now. “Did Pierce hire Baker?”
“Yes.”
His confirmation of her suspicions didn’t make her feel any better. She’d been right! This is what Lucas had been keeping from her. Pierce wasn’t trying to purchase the Ryan land, he was planning on killing Lucas so the land would revert to him. But Lucas thought by having an heir—her hand drifted to her stomach—Pierce would give up. Was he right?
“And is Baker here to kill my husband?”
This time, Verrick hesitated before answering. “Yes.” He took a deep breath and met her eyes. “But I am faster.”
Oddly enough, that boast did make her feel better. Pierce wanted Lucas dead and had hired the second-fastest gunslinger to ensure it. But Lucas had managed to convince Verrick to come protect him, and that was somehow comforting. Looking at Verrick now, standing in her kitchen, Shannon had the oddest feeling he wouldn’t let any harm come to her husband.
“Thank you, Mr. Verrick.”
He nodded once, then turned on his heel to walk out of the kitchen. She stopped him before he could disappear again.
“Would you like some biscuits? They’ll be done in a little bit.”
When he turned, she could tell she’d surprised him. “I’ve eaten already.”
That wasn’t unexpected; he hadn’t eaten any meals with them since arriving at the ranch last week. But she just smiled slightly, then nodded to let him know she understood.
She was surprised when he turned to leave once more, but then hesitated and said, “Thank you.”
It was the first time he’d thanked her, and though it didn’t sound natural, it pleased her he’d made the attempt. “You’re welcome, Mr. Verrick. We’ll have you wishing us ‘good morning’ in no time.”
He didn’t respond to her teasing, but merely said, “Lucas will be back soon. Tell him.”
“Tell me what?”
Shannon’s attention swung to the backdoor, where Lucas was grinning as he wiped off his boots. His attention was on Verrick, who’d ignored the question and flowed silently into the dining room in that disturbing way of his. Lucas met her eyes and his smile grew.
“I brought eggs.” Sure enough, he was juggling the milk pail and the egg box, and raised them both to show her. He reminded h
er of a little boy, eager for praise, so she laughed.
“Thank you. I’ll have breakfast ready soon.”
He placed them both on the table near her, then crossed to the basin to wash his hands. “I didn’t know you and Verrick were on speaking terms. What were you talking about?”
Shrugging, she pretended great interest in pouring the milk into the biscuit dough. “We never have long conversations, but he’s interesting.”
“Are you sure you’re talking about Verrick?”
She snorted at his pretended confusion. “I thought he was scary when we first met, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Shannon, he’s killed—”
“Oh, I know,” she was quick to assure him. “And maybe it’s all just an act on his part, but I trust him. He seems like a good man.”
“He’s a gunslinger.” She could tell from the sound of his voice he’d turned and was facing her.
“Yes.” She pounded the dough harder than necessary. “One you hired.” Silence from her husband. Could he tell she wasn’t pleased? Good. “To protect you from the gunslinger Pierce hired to kill you.”
“Ah.”
“You didn’t think I would figure it out? I’m brighter than I look, you know.” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice, but knew she failed when she heard him sigh. “I might be ugly, but my mind is—”
His arms wrapped around her, and she bit off what she was going to say. Part of her wanted to be angry at him for keeping secrets from her, but the other traitorous part was thrilled he still wanted to touch her.
“Shannon…” He turned her around so she was looking up into his golden-brown eyes. “Honey, I never thought there was anything wrong with your mind.” He dropped a kiss to her temple. “And I dunno what you mean about being ugly, but you’ve got to know that’s not the truth.”
What?
Shannon tried to form a coherent response, but he trailed kisses down her left cheek, down that horrible birthmark, and she suddenly couldn’t think. “I…don’t…”
