The Irish Westerns Boxed Set
Page 16
In the quiet that followed, Joshua took stock of the situation. Reilly and Masterson had two men facedown on the ground, and were in the process of tying them up. No surprise there; Ryan’s men were quick thinkers. He looked over to where Maggie had been, expecting to see her lying facedown with her hands covering her head, but the spot was empty. She was gone!
“Maggie!”
He scanned the yard for a sign of her, then dismounted when he couldn’t find her.
“Over here.”
He followed the sound of her voice and found her by the south side of the barn, straddling the third man’s back the muzzle of a rifle leaning against the back of the man’s head.
She was safe!
Relief washed over him. He called out to her, making his way to her side.
“Need any rope?” Reilly walked toward them with a length of rope in his hands.
She shook her head. “I suppose I could tie him up instead of putting a hole through him,” she said, as if considering the alternative.
“Don’t shoot!” the man pleaded.
Joshua stood over the man he thought was the leader and nudged him with the toe of his boot. The man moaned. “Good, you’re alive. I’ll need some answers. Now!”
The man opened his eyes. Joshua watched the man’s eyes narrow, then close, and he knew the man had seen the badge he wore on his chest.
“Stay with me friend,” Joshua warned.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Can you handle things here, Reilly?” he called out, heading for his horse. When Reilly answered, he looked back at the man Maggie had captured. “No, but I am.”
Ryan’s men had all five gunmen tied up. He was going into town after Ryan.
“Aye, you and Masterson go help Jamie,” he answered.
“Keep an eye on Maggie,” Joshua called out, wheeling his horse to follow behind Masterson. “I’ve got a few more things to clear up.”
“Be careful!” Maggie called out again, handing the rifle over to Mick. “Thanks for bringing me the gun, lad.”
“Me ma sent me out to help,” he said, grinning up at her. “She ate all of the broth you sent up.”
“Did she now?”
“Aye, and she asked when Mr. Ryan was expected back.”
“Faith, she’s a bold one.”
“Who?” Reilly asked, coming up behind her.
“Bridget,” she whispered, watching Mick walk over toward the captured gunmen.
“Mrs. O’Toole?”
“Aye, she wanted to know when Jamie’d be back.”
“It’s about time,” Reilly said, smiling. “Himself needs a good woman.”
“Aye, that he does.” Maggie’s grin faded. “Do ye think they’ll catch up to Jamie in time?”
“Masterson knows the trails around here like the back of his hand. They’ll get there,” Reilly assured her.
“Lord willing,” she prayed.
“And the creek don’t rise,” Reilly finished for her.
***
“I’ve proof that the ranch is mine,” Ryan announced from the doorway to Hugh Emerson’s private office.
“Ryan?”
“Surprised to see me?” He leaned against the doorjamb.
Emerson leaned forward over his desk. Ryan wondered what the man’s problem was. His stomach was leaning against the blotter on his desk. The faint scraping sound of wood against wood triggered a warning in his brain. He let his hand fall to his side, and freed the loop holding his gun in the holster.
Emerson sat up with a jerk, revealing that his right hand held a derringer. The small but deadly accurate gun was pointed at Ryan’s heart. “I’ll take those papers,” he bit out.
“You tried to take my land by force, then tried to ruin me,” Ryan said quietly, not willing to risk moving and startling the overweight banker into shooting him.
“As soon as you hand over those papers, I will have accomplished my goal.”
“Getting your filthy hands on me land?”
“Don’t be absurd. Your ranch is one of many that I will have managed to acquire before the railroad agents start scouting out land for the new spur.”
“Ye don’t know for sure that they’ll be wantin’ to run tracks through me land.”
“I have a pretty fair idea that they’d be interested.” Emerson steadied his gun hand with the other. “Too bad my man shot the wrong woman on the stage.”
“You shot—”
“I had to ensure that you wouldn’t get your hands on those papers.”
“But you failed,” Ryan said smugly. “Maggie wasn’t injured.”
Emerson smiled. “By the time you make it back to the ranch, she’ll be dead and not one scorched stone of your house or barns will be left standing.”
“If you hurt one hair on me sister’s head—”
“Emerson!” a deep voice called out from behind Ryan, before he felt himself pushed out of the way.
He heard Emerson’s derringer go off and the marshal groan, a full heartbeat before he heard the marshal’s Peacemaker fire in response.
“Turner!” he said, coming to his feet to stand beside the marshal.
“Don’t worry about me,” Joshua bit out, “Don’t let him get away!” He handed Ryan his cuffs and nodded toward Emerson.
Ryan started to knock the gun out of Emerson’s hand when he noticed the back of the man’s hand had been grazed by the marshal’s bullet. Emerson was staring down at his hand, moaning in agony, in too much pain to let go of the gun still clutched in his hand.
Once Emerson was cuffed, Ryan turned back toward Joshua.
“How bad were you hit?” He noticed the way the marshal held his left arm immobile.
“Not too bad,” he said through clenched teeth. “But I think the bullet may have to be dug out.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Why aren’t they back yet?” Maggie asked for the hundredth time, pacing the kitchen floor.
“You’ll wear a hole in the floor if ye don’t stop,” Reilly warned.
“How can you sit so calmly when Joshua and Jamie—”
The sound of horses coming up the lane had her racing out the door, flying down the porch steps.
“Joshua?” She searched his face to make certain he was all right. The flash of pain that he tried to hide didn’t slip past her.
“Ye’ve been hurt!” she accused. “Didn’t I tell ye to be careful?”
“You did.” He dismounted slowly. “And I was.”
Maggie noticed how badly his left arm shook. “Were ye shot then?”
“Give the man a chance to explain,” Ryan said sternly, tying the reins to his horse on the top rail of the corral.
“Are ye leavin’ then?” she asked, noticing that he didn’t put his horse in the corral.
“I have to fetch the doctor to dig a slug out of your marshal friend.”
Maggie felt her stomach flip and start to revolt at the mention of a bullet piercing Joshua’s flesh.
“Saints preserve—”
“I’d have done it myself,” Joshua said, coming to stand beside her, “but I can’t reach around the back of my shoulder.”
“Come into the house,” Maggie put her arm around Joshua and helped him walk across the yard.
“What no welcome home for your brother?” Ryan called out.
“I’m glad your home, Jamie,” a soft voice called out to him.
Maggie bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. The way her brother’s jaw dropped open was worth the price of a ticket. It was obvious he hadn’t seen Bridget in the last few days. Bridget’s fever was gone and her color had returned. Though still rail-thin, there was no mistaking her beauty or the look of longing in her eyes as she stared at James.
“Did your brother know how she felt about him?” Joshua asked, leaning heavily on Maggie.
“He will,” she said, brightly. “Let’s have a look at yer wound. Then we’ll see if we need a doctor, or if I can remove it meself.”
“None.” She smiled at the way his face paled. He tried so hard to be strong, but she wasn’t having any of it. She caught him before he stumbled.
“Don’t worry, Jamie sent Reilly off the moment yer foot touched the ground. I expect the doctor’ll be back within the hour.”
“Maggie, there’s something I need to ask you.”
“There’s time enough for that once the doctor’s tended yer wound.”
“It can’t wait.”
She turned toward the man she’d given her heart to and smiled. “All right then. At least sit down so ye don’t bleed all over me clean floor.”
“Have a bit of sympathy for the man,” her brother said, coming in the door behind them.
Maggie helped settle Joshua into a chair and began to strip away the bandages. “Mick, be a good lad and fetch me sewing basket.”
Joshua surged to his feet. “Maggie I don’t think—”
Maggie caught Joshua before his knees buckled. “Ida said ye weren’t partial to stitching,” she said, shaking her head.
James placed a shot of whiskey on the table. Maggie picked it up and placed it in Joshua’s right hand. He didn’t apologize for his weakness; instead, he down the shot in one gulp and set his glass next to the bottle for another.
“Now if ye couldn’t hold yer whiskey, then I’d have something to say about it,” Ryan said with a grin. “But a man who’s just taken a bullet is entitled to get a bit weak in the knees.”
***
Two hours later, the doctor had gone and Joshua was back in the kitchen.
“Are ye sure ye should be up and about?” Maggie eyed him closely, looking for signs of weakness.
“I’ve got something to say that can’t wait. Sit down, Maggie.”
She started to huff at his authoritative tone, then shrugged and sat.
“Maggie, you must know how I feel about you?”
“Aye.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?” She watched his face for a clue as to what he was trying to say.
“I love you, Maggie. I have from the moment I set eyes on you.”
“Joshua,” she whispered, her hands moving to her lips to keep from saying the words back to him.
“Was I wrong, don’t you have feelings for me?” he asked, a look of hurt flitting across his handsome features.
“No, ye weren’t wrong, but ye must understand—”
“Do you love me?” He interrupted.
“Aye, but I don’t want to.” Her heart broke all over again.
“I don’t understand.” He rose to his feet.
“I was pledged to marry Rory Muldoon.” Maggie tried to keep her voice even, striving to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “He died in me arms.”
“Maggie. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“How could ye? It was nigh on six years ago.”
“But you’d have been too young to marry.”
“I would have been sixteen the day we were to wed, if he hadn’t caught the pneumonia.”
Joshua rose and knelt down in front of Maggie’s chair. “If I could take away the pain, I would. But I can’t change the past any more than I can stop loving you. Marry me.”
“I wish I could say yes,” she whispered, “but look at ye!” She rose to her feet. “Ye’ve been shot and from what ye’ve said, it’s not the first time.”
“It comes with the territory.” He rose to stand beside her.
“I can’t marry ye. I couldn’t stand not knowing when or if ye were coming back to me.” She touched her fingertips to his lovely mouth. Unable to stop herself, she ran the tip of her forefinger along the edge of his bottom lip. His eyes darkened, and she heard his sharp intake of breath.
Maggie’s heart ached. She loved him so much, it hurt. But she couldn’t watch another man she loved die.
Joshua surprised her by pulling her into his arms. His lips touched hers gently at first. Her eyes closed as he increased the intensity of the kiss. His lips became more demanding as he poured every ounce of his love for her into the kiss.
He nearly broke the kiss to shout for joy, when her knees gave way. Instead, he swept her up into his arms. Shards of pain sliced through his shoulder, but he ignored it. Maggie was his. He’d die before he let her go.
“Joshua, I—”
“—love you and want to marry you.” He captured her chin in his hand, not letting her look away from him.
“Don’t be puttin’ words in me mouth. I—”
“—trust you and have from the moment you pulled the arrow from my arm.” He pressed his lips gently to hers.
“Joshua, I—”
“—can’t live without you.” He smiled, pressed a quick kiss to her brow, and then another on the tip of her nose.
“You’re not listening,” she wailed.
“I will when you start to make sense. I turned in my resignation a few days ago.” He watched her face intently.
“Now why would ye do a thing like that?”
“Because I’ve had my eye on a piece of land on the other side of the river from here.” He definitely liked the way her eyes softened when she was about to smile.
He kissed the corners of her mouth as she started to smile. “What would ye be raisin’ on that bit of land?” she asked quietly.
“I’m after raising a few head of cattle and a passel of kids.” When he captured her lips in a bone-melting kiss, all the pain of the past seemed to sort itself out. Visions of a future with Maggie filled him with contentment.
Maggie knew she’d have to say yes, when he kissed her the first time. Heaven help her, she didn’t want to, but how else could he play a part in her future if she let him walk away? Long-dead dreams of a home and family resurfaced. She knew now that what she’d felt for Rory would always have a special place in her heart and memories, but what she felt for Joshua would carry them through the rest of their lives.
She wanted to tend the land alongside of him, raising cattle, and babies with green eyes and sun-kissed hair. She’d be a fool to pass up the gift of love he was holding out to her. It was hers for the taking; all she had to do was reach out with an open mind and loving heart.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him against her, until not a breath of air was left between them. She raised her lips and whispered, “Just how many kids are in a passel?”
THE RANCHER’S HEART
Book Two
By C. H. Admirand
Book Two ~ The Rancher’s Heart
Dedication and Acknowledgements … Page 163
Off to Amerikay Lyrics by Dean Dobbs … Page 164
Prologue … Page 165
Chapter 1 … Page 168
Chapter 2 … Page 178
Chapter 3 … Page 186
Chapter 4 … Page 202
Chapter 5 … Page 209
Chapter 6 … Page 216
Chapter 7 … Page 228
Chapter 8 … Page 238
Chapter 9 … Page 243
Chapter 10 … Page 256
Chapter 11 … Page 268
Chapter 12 … Page 282
Chapter 13 … Page 289
Chapter 14 … Page 298
Chapter 15 … Page 307
Chapter 16 … Page 320
Chapter 17 … Page 326
Chapter 18 … Page 335
Chapter 19 … Page 343
Chapter 20 … Page 349
Chapter 21 … Page 355
Chapter 22 … Page 364
Chapter 23 … Page 369
Chapter 24 … Page 379
Chapter 25 … Page 391
Chapter 26 … Page 401
Chapter 27 … Page 413
Dedication
This book is dedicated to love of my life, DJ, and our three awesome children, Phil, Jessi and Josh—who are no longer children—LOL! Though they may grumble at times, their support is absolute and unconditional. Thanks, guys, for alwa
ys being there. I love you!
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my BB for allowing me to use his lyrics and song in the opening of this book.
To the three generations of feisty Irish-American women in my family: Garahan, Flaherty, Daly, and Purcell. Your sharp tongues, hard heads, and big hearts have kept our family strong (though your decisions to marry stubborn men of French, English, Welsh, and German descent are questionable, it must be the reason I chose to marry a stubborn Dutchman with just enough Irish in him to be his saving grace).
Off to Amerikay
Lyrics by Dean M. Dobbs
A long time ago in a place far away, a son told his father, “Da, I’m goin’ away.
There’s no future for me here, there’s not enough work to go ’round.
You plow the fields, till the soil, but there’s more rock than dirt to our ground.”
Seamus he got his first glimpse, of the land of Amer-i-kay.
As he stood at the top of the gangplank, getting ready to go ashore, he was thinking of his father and mother standing at the cottage door, and he was saying—
Chorus:
Oh my da, I’m off to Amer-i-kay, I’m sorry to be leavin’, but you know I cannot stay.
There’s no work for me here, there’s no future so they say, so oh my da, I’m off to Amer-i-kay.
Prologue
Colorado Territory, Late 1860s
Bridget O’Toole’s hand shook as she reached for the pen. Tears of joy blurring her vision.
Wiping them away with the back of her hand, she drew in a deep calming breath. Dipping the pen into the inkwell, she steadied her hand and put pen to paper.
Michael Garahan O’Toole, born this 17th day of September in the year of our Lord, Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-Six.
She looked over to where her week-old son lay fast asleep in his cradle by the warmth of the fire. Love for him welled up within her, enabling her to blot out the sharp slice of sorrow—her constant companion since her baby’s father had walked out of their door nine months ago.