The Reward

by Beth Williamson

With her eyes and her rifle pointed at him, he saw the madness in their black depths eating away at her soul.

  “You killed him. You killed him,” she screamed as she began firing.

  One bullet slammed into his arm near his elbow, but he ran toward her before she had a chance to fire again. As he ran, he zigzagged back and forth, giving her a harder target. The rest of the courtyard was quiet, the battle obviously over.

  “Stay still, you cabron. You must die. This ranch is mine. Mine! Mine!” she screamed as spittle flew from her mouth and her eyes rolled like a crazed animal’s.

  Malcolm raised his pistol to shoot her when her body jerked backwards and a blossom of red appeared on her chest. The red mixed with the yellow of her dress, creating an orange reminiscent of the setting sun.

  He looked to see who had shot Isabella and found Tyler with his gun still smoking.

  “Any woman who would do that to a child don’t deserve the air she breathes. Besides, Nicky would probably kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

  Malcolm stood, brushing the dirt off his clothes, and holstered his pistol. His arm stung where the bullet went through, and the steady drip of warm blood told him he needed to bandage it soon.

  “Gracias, amigo.”

  Tyler smiled, his blue eyes actually matching the grin. “Anytime.”

  Malcolm ran over to the boy and crouched next to him. He was crammed under the edge of the fountain like one of those little sardines in a can.

  “Malcolm? It’s over. They’re dead, hijo. Come on out now.”

  The boy glanced up at him and Malcolm saw fear and hate, like a trapped animal.

  “Your mama needs you, chico.”

  The fear and hate began to fade and he started to look like a boy again. A boy who needed help and a lot of bandages. He started to scoot out inch by inch. Malcolm didn’t offer to help, except to leave his hand out in case the boy wanted to grab it.

  “Malcolm,” came a voice from the other side of the courtyard. Jack had apparently knocked out the rat brothers, or killed them, and freed Malcolm’s mother. She came running as fast as she could. Malcolm stood and stepped back to allow her access to her son.

  She reached the boy in record time and cupped his face in her hands.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry they hurt you.”

  “It’s okay, Mama. Uncle Malcolm came and rescued me.”

  She turned her brown eyes on him with questions, but simply accepted her son’s words at face value.

  “Thank you, Señor Zarza. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’re welcome. And it’s Malcolm, por favor.”

  “Of course. My name is Louise.”

  “Con mucho gusto.” He smiled at her.

  Tyler’s voice interrupted the reunion. “Riders.”

  Malcolm looked at Louise and Malcolm. “Into the house now. Find Lorena and stay with her.”

  Louise nodded and hustled the boy off to the front door where they disappeared inside.

  A group of at least twenty riders came through the gates of Rancho Zarza. Malcolm, Jack, Ray and Tyler stood at least ten feet apart in a semi-circle with a dozen bodies around them. Waiting.

  The battle was over, but the war raged on.

  ———

  Nicky looked out the curtains in the bedroom window for at least the tenth time in the past half hour.

  “It’s been almost three hours,” Leigh said from the bed. “It only takes an hour to get there, an hour to get back. That means they were at the ranch at least an hour.”

  “Should I be more worried than I am?”

  Leigh tried to laugh, but gasped in pain instead. “No, I don’t think I could be.”

  “Me neither.”

  Trevor came running into the room. He was only a year older than Jack, although of all the brothers, he had the youngest-looking face. His wavy brown hair poked out from beneath his brown hat like that of a young boy’s escaping a haircut. He was more slender than his brothers, although very strong and quick, perhaps even as quick as Malcolm.

  He nearly skidded into the room, but stopped himself on the doorjamb. His green eyes were bright.

  “They’re coming.”

  There was nothing Leigh wanted more than to follow Nicky out the door when she took off at a dead run after her brother. She could barely move without excruciating pain. Nicky told her the bullet had nicked the bone, and that, more than anything, was causing her pain.

  She refused laudanum. Couldn’t stand the stuff. Made her nauseous and woozy. One time she even saw pink horses after taking a hefty dose. So she endured the pain as best she could. And waited for Malcolm.

  Please come to me.

  She heard horses outside and shouts, and some laughs and squeals. Her heart lightened a bit to hear it. That meant everyone had come back in one piece.

  ———

  Leigh heard the scrape of a boot heel on the floor, then she smelled his scent.

  Malcolm.

  “Amante,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek.

  Dammit all to hell, she started to bawl like a baby. She couldn’t help it. She was tired, sore, and had been so damn scared. Scared he was going to be gone before she had a chance to really have a life with him.

  “Shhh…it’s okay. I’m here. I only have a scratch. Roja has already tended it.”

  His whiskered cheek scratched against hers. The relief coursing through her was incredible.

  He came back to her.

  “Are they dead?”

  “Sí, they are both dead.”

  “And?”

  “Diego rounded up the rest of them and gave them the choice of either dying or working for the bastard Zarza. They arrived after everything was over and in time to clean everything up.” He sighed. “I will tell you more later. I am so tired, amante. It is so much… I…”

  “Lie next to me.”

  He stood and stripped down to nothing. Leigh didn’t even have the strength to get excited by his beautiful naked self. She saw the bandage on his left arm, white against the darkness of his skin.

  He climbed in on her left side and kissed her forehead.

  “Sleep, amante. Wake up in my arms.”

  With the sound of Malcolm’s soft breathing next to her, she drifted off. Leigh had never felt safer.

  ———

  Ray Malloy sighed and stared out at the Texas prairie. He tucked his hands in his pockets and started walking. He hadn’t had an easy time the past year, and here he was sniffing at a widow in Texas to marry up with to give his daughter a home. He snorted in self-derision.

  He was scraping the bottom of his own barrel. His five-month-old daughter—who was obviously not his considering her straight black hair was neither inherited from him or her mother—owned his heart. He would do anything for the little mite. Even if it meant marrying a woman he didn’t know.

  Of course it would be a stupid thing to do. He scuffed the hard ground with his boot, sending a grasshopper flying in a hurry.

  Why did Melody need a mother anyway? Running Deer, the Indian woman who was wet nursing her, was a good woman. She could stay for a while, at least until Melody was old enough to go to school. Then he would think about getting her a mother.

  Of course that meant he would have a wife. A shudder went down his spine as a coyote howled in the distance. A wife. He spat on the ground. That was the last thing he ever wanted again. His first wife, Melody’s mother, was a heartless, faithless bitch who had high-tailed it for parts unknown right after Melody was born.

  Someday he’d find a woman like Leigh who was strong, sturdy and dependable. Someone who wouldn’t take off for California to seek fame and fortune.

  Someday the stars might fall from the sky, too.

  ———

  Trevor Malloy sat on the front porch steps of the Circle O and contemplated his life. He was twenty-seven years old, a rancher’s son, a cow puncher and lonely as all hell. It wasn’t that there was a shortage of women back in Wyomi
ng, but most of them were like his sisters. And those that weren’t, were already married by now.

  He wanted excitement. Being here, helping with this range war between these folks, was the most exciting thing that had happened to him. A hunger rose inside him, ravenous for more. Ravenous for something other than cows and beans.

  He didn’t want to go back to Wyoming with his brothers and sister. He wanted to ask Leigh and Malcolm if he could stay here and work for a spell. Then find another place, another town to feed his hunger. But loyalty to his family came first. He would never ask.

  He saw the strange wagon coming down the road toward the ranch and immediately got up to find his brother-in-law Tyler. Looked like trouble was coming to call again.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Malcolm was dreaming about riding across a bridge and Leigh was on the other side, mounted on Ghost. Waiting for him and smiling. He had just reached her when her face turned into Tyler’s.

  “Dammit, wake up. I’m tired of trying to shake your ugly ass up.”

  Tyler’s impatient voice penetrated his dream.

  He was so surprised to have to be woken up from a dead sleep he just blinked up at the former bounty hunter. Tyler’s blue eyes were annoyed, but not truly angry.

  He glanced down at Leigh, who still slept. He squinted at the window. It looked like nearly sundown.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “There are some people here, asking for you. For Malcolm Ross.”

  Malcolm didn’t know who they could possibly be, but he was damn sure going to find out.

  “Give me a minute unless you want an eyeful of what I’ve got.”

  Tyler grimaced and walked toward the door. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” He closed the door softly behind him.

  People? What people? Maybe from Rancho Zarza. He had left Diego and Lorena in charge, but something could have happened. They would have sent a rider, not “some people”—so who could it be?

  He dressed quickly but silently, and left the room sock-footed. After stopping to slip his boots on in the hallway, he went downstairs.

  There was a tall man in the kitchen drinking coffee with Nicky. He had red hair, liberally laced with white, a craggy face, and kind blue eyes. He was dressed in the simple clothes of a farmer, with a homespun blue shirt and trousers. Three girls, ranging in age from probably nine to thirteen, sat on the floor playing jacks, wearing similar clothing. Each of them had the same bright red hair as the man and identical owlish blue eyes.

  When Malcolm walked into the room, they all stopped talking and stared at him. He stared right back.

  Who the hell were these people?

  The man stood and held out his hand.

  “Malcolm? I’m Donagh MacAdams.”

  Malcolm shook his callused hand. “Malcolm Ross.”

  The older man smiled. “I know who you are. And I can’t tell you how happy she’s going to be that you are alive.”

  His heart began to pound.

  “She’s outside by the wagon. Never could abide waiting inside—she paces too much. I want to thank your Leigh for contacting us. Without her, we wouldn’t be here.”

  Madre de Dios. It couldn’t be. It could not be.

  Malcolm went out the door at a dead run, almost tearing the door off the hinges. In the light thrown by the lanterns inside, he found her. A little plumper, seemingly a lot shorter, with more than a few gray hairs, her wavy brown hair in its customary knot at the back of her head and wrinkles by her smiling brown eyes.

  “Mama?”

  She smiled and cried and held out her arms to him.

  “Oh, Malcolm, me laddie.”

  He crossed to her in two strides and enfolded her in a hug that probably hurt. But he needed to hug her close. His heart had not felt whole without finding her. His mother.

  Oh, Dios, his mother.

  The tears mixed together on their faces as they hugged until he could hardly get a breath in. He set her back down and held her at arm’s length. She hadn’t really changed.

  “Mama, I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here. Donagh nearly ran the horses into the ground to get here. We got Leigh’s telegram and came as quickly as we could.”

  Leigh. She had found his mother. She had brought his family to him. He would never, ever love anyone more than he loved her.

  “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry I never wrote to you. I’m sorry I—”

  She put her small hand against his mouth.

  “No need, me boy. All water under the bridge and all that. We’re together now. And you need to meet your sisters. Never did have another boy after you.”

  Sisters. He had a family. A family.

  He wiped the tears from his face with the heels of his hands.

  “Where is Leigh? I want to talk with her.”

  “She was hurt, Mama, so she’s sleeping. You can see her later.”

  She nodded. He hugged her one more time and breathed in the scent of love. He did not realize until that very moment how much he had missed her.

  “I missed you, Mama.”

  “I missed you too, laddie. Now let’s go inside then so you can meet the girls.”

  He hooked his arm through hers and headed back inside.

  ———

  Leigh heard a commotion downstairs when she woke. It was dark in the room except for a candle on the dresser by the door. She wasn’t alone although she could tell Malcolm was not in the bed anymore.

  Gingerly, she tested her wound and found she could sit.

  “Malcolm?”

  “Sí, amante. I am here.”

  He had been sitting in a chair in the corner and rose in the darkness to approach the bed.

  “What are you doing in the shadows?”

  He smiled and kneeled down beside her. “I’m not in the shadows anymore. I am in your light. Always.”

  With more tenderness than she had ever felt, he kissed her.

  “What’s happened?”

  “You. You happened, Leigh Wynne. I should have known when you were born and toddled around after me that you would turn my life upside down.”

  She looked in his black eyes and saw so much love, hope and happiness her heart began to do a jig. He was right, the shadows were gone.

  “My mama is here.”

  She smiled. “Oh, Malcolm, I’m so glad. I didn’t know if they’d come and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You have given me the greatest gift ever. My life, my family, everything. You are everything to me.”

  Damn tears pricked her eyes again. She blinked them away.

  “Does this mean you want to get hitched?”

  He laughed and kissed her quickly. “Sí, amante, let’s get hitched.”

  “Do I have to wear a dress at the wedding?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. Then he wrapped her gently in his arms.

  “I want you to meet my family and see my mama again, mi vida. I want them to meet the woman who holds my heart.”

  So full of the gifts that life had brought, Leigh could only nod. She held onto him and promised herself never to let go again.

  Beth Williamson

  You can’t say cowboys without thinking of Beth Williamson. She likes ‘em hard, tall and packing. Read her work and discover for yourself how hot and dangerous a cowboy can be.

  Beth lives just outside of Raleigh, North Carolina, with her husband and two sons. Born and raised in New York, she holds a B.F.A. in writing from New York University. She spends her days as a technical writer, and her nights immersed in writing hot romances for her readers.

  To learn more about Beth Williamson, please visit www.bethwilliamson.com. Send an email to Beth at beth@bethwilliamson.com, join her Yahoo! Group, http://groups.yahoo.com/group/cowboylovers, or sign up for Beth’s monthly newsletter, Sexy Spurs, http://www.crocodesigns.com/cgi-bin/dada/mail.cgi/list/spurs/.

  Raymond
Malloy has sworn off love,

  until Lillian Wickham falls into his life…

  Enjoy this excerpt from

  The Treasure

  (c) 2006 Beth Williamson

  The Malloy Family series continues. When a clumsy governess from New York meets a lonely, bitter rancher, more than her heart will fall. Available July 18, 2006 at Samhain Publishing…

  Lily was hot. After the incident with Ray in the hallway, her entire body was flushed and she felt a bit feverish. Odd, really, that reaction to a man. She had never had it before, and honestly hadn’t expected it.

  After washing up, she went into her room and opened the window a bit to try to cool herself off. The moon was bright in the dark sky. She opened the window a bit more and leaned out to get a better look.

  Then her natural grace took over, and she fell out the window into the snow.

  She landed on her nose, which immediately made a popping noise, and a warm gush of blood bathed her face. The snow was absolutely freezing and her entire body was lying on that frozen mass, from tip to toes. She pushed up on her elbows and ended up shoving her hands deeper into the snow.

  Yes, indeed, her fine graceful self just had to make itself known. Hopefully she could climb back into her window without anyone seeing her.

  The sound of boots rapidly running through the snow toward her dashed that hope to the rocks.

  “Lily!” Ray said. “My God, are you all right?”

  She turned her head and peered at him in the darkness. Might as well be honest. “No, I think I may have broken my nose. And I can’t seem to get out of this snow. I’m afraid frostbite will be a possibility if I don’t figure out how.”

  Strong arms lifted her effortlessly and she found herself being carried by Ray before she could blink. It was dark enough she couldn’t see his expression under the shadow of his hat, but she had no doubt it was not a happy face.

  “Thank you.”

  Lily tilted her head back and pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the bleeding. Her nose was really the least of her concerns. Ray Malloy was the biggest.

  He opened the door and carried her inside, kicking the door closed behind him. She had the insane notion of a groom carrying his bride over the threshold and she started laughing. The more she tried to stop, the harder she laughed.