by Linda Broday
He paused, and when he spoke again, the hardness layered beneath his words revealed some new things about this outlaw she’d married. “This man hunting you had best not show his face. I will kill him with no regrets. No one hurts my wife.”
She blinked in surprise and clutched her chest, her fingers fanning across her breastbone, and stared. That he could voice this violent threat in such a calm manner stunned her. But at the same time, she knew in her heart he wouldn’t enjoy killing. His letters had already told her that much. Ridge seemed to have a code he lived by, and she suspected that set of rules figured in all he did.
I vow never to raise my hand or my voice in anger. Our marriage will be one of respect. He’d spoken that vow that day, and she’d found the words comforting.
The outlaw Ridge Steele had become her champion, and still she didn’t really know how to feel about him.
But maybe if she’d had him by her side three years ago, the outcome might’ve been far different.
* * *
Ridge stared up at the ceiling in the dim bedroom and listened to the house settling. It had come as no surprise that Adeline had decided to sleep in her space beneath the stairs with the kitten and its mama for company, but at least she had the bench to lie on. From what Luke had said, it was an improvement over what she’d had.
What the hell had happened to her? Something in prison or something before? Or both? Since she’d called an immediate halt to his questions about family, he suspected they played a big part. If he could find out, he’d try to fix the problem—either by talk or with a bullet. For her not to speak seemed to suggest something very sinister had taken place.
He could protect her better if she’d tell him the nature of the threat that followed her. All he knew was that men were hunting her. He had no descriptions, no names, nothing.
Moonlight through the window shone on the clock on the wall. It was just past midnight. He threw back the covers and reached for his trousers, then padded quietly to the stairs in his bare feet.
The door to Addie’s space was shut, but the knob turned when he tried it. She had the lamp lit but the wick turned low, and the weak light revealed her asleep on the bench, the kitten in the crook of her arm. Mama cat stirred in her box and blinked up at him. They eyed each other for a full moment before the feline gave him a look of disdain, stood, and promptly turned her back on him.
For a long moment, he stood staring down at Addie, admiring the dark lashes resting on her high cheekbones like black fringe on a shawl. At times she seemed shy and afraid, but he knew that was simply a smokescreen, for he’d glimpsed passion inside her and more than a little anger when she’d beaten the drunk with her shoe.
And despite the strange new surroundings, she’d made him coffee without being asked. Just figured it out. Yes, Adeline Jancy would turn out to be a good wife. He’d stake his life on it. Tucking the quilt around her, he touched her cheek with the pad of a finger. “Sleep, my lady. You’re safe from harm.”
Six
Adeline wasn’t surprised that Luke and Josie decided to leave for their home on the Lone Star Ranch the day following the wedding. They’d missed their small daughter terribly in the two weeks they’d been away.
Luke turned to Ridge before climbing into the wagon with Josie. “Be careful, amigo, and keep your guard up at all times. Those men will track Adeline here eventually. I guarantee it.”
Ridge clasped Luke’s hand. “They’ll have to go through me to get to her.”
Addie listened to the two men and watched their interaction, her heart swelling to see the admiration they had for each other. She curled a hand around Ridge’s elbow, giving the couple a send-off. Although she hadn’t known them long, she hated to see them go. They were her closest friends. But life had to go on. Nothing stood still—not time, problems, or the stars.
Josie had said something very profound that morning. Rise above the dark clouds and you’ll find golden sunshine. It’s there. You just have to look for it. And remember, life must be lived fully—no matter the trouble that comes, the season, or condition of the trail.
At the moment, Addie’s roads were washed out and littered with holes. Still, in spite of everything, hope lived inside her.
As they struggled to adapt to marriage and each other over the next three weeks, Addie soon learned Ridge’s likes and dislikes, his moods and the things he valued. He loved meat but picked at vegetables. Blessed with a strong sweet tooth, he wanted dessert at every meal if possible. He tried never to curse around her, but she often saw the strain it took on his face. Sometimes she smelled whiskey on him after he’d spent time with the men, but never saw him drunk or wobbly.
Of all his qualities, she loved the way he made her feel, like she was the most cherished woman ever born, always seeing to her needs. He’d tabled questions about her family and previous home, for which she was glad. She still wasn’t ready to tell her story, but she knew she would have to do it soon.
He deserved to know the kind of woman he’d gotten.
All in all, Addie was happy with the new life she’d chosen. Ridge was gone much of the day, which left her on her own to do housework—or nothing at all, if she so desired. She always kept the doors locked in case of intruders, made a habit to check the windows, and listened for anything that signaled danger.
Each time she thought about the men hunting her, pain throbbed in her chest and took her breath. She knew who they were and who had sent them, and that was the most terrifying part. Often during the day, she had to stop and remind herself that she was safe, her hiding place near.
But nights were spent with Ridge in the parlor, her in the rocker, and he in his comfortable chair. Their first time together like that, he’d pulled a book titled Oliver Twist from the shelf, a riveting story about a poor child born in a workhouse. She loved the sound of his voice as he read to her. Ever since then, it had become a nightly ritual. Sometimes, she studied his face as he concentrated on the page—especially his nicely shaped mouth—and remembered their wedding kiss.
A part of her wished she was the bride he wanted out of all the other women in the world. Only he hadn’t truly chosen her, not in that way. Nor she him. They hadn’t met and fallen in love like most couples, hadn’t been neighbors or childhood friends. He’d known nothing and still knew very little about her, other than the fact that she was being hunted. She prayed he would never come to regret making her part of his life.
Even so, she knew her silence had to drag on him and she hated that.
He was a good man. A kind man. She often found herself studying him from under lowered lashes and admired his ability to keep occasional irritation in check and his voice calm even when he probably wanted to yell.
His hands and long fingers also fascinated her. They, too, seemed perfectly formed. Luke and Josie had told her that he had a lightning-fast draw, rarely missing his target, assuring that he would be her secret weapon. Yet at the same time, he was gentle and never complained when Miss Kitty or the wee one jumped into his lap. The first time it happened, he’d sloshed coffee on his shirt, and she’d braced herself, waiting for an explosion. But none came. After that, he seemed to enjoy running his long fingers across the kitten’s soft fur.
Maybe the cats calmed him as much as they did her.
Midafternoon one day, a knock sounded on the front door. Fear raced through Addie, and she instinctively bolted for her safe room. A baby’s cry halted her before she could close herself in, and she moved to the window to look out. A pretty, black-haired woman stood on the porch, a baby in her arms, a wagon nearby. But what shocked Addie more than the unexpected visitor were the denim trousers the visitor wore that showed off her hips and legs.
The woman didn’t seem to pose much of a threat, so Addie opened the door.
“Hi, I’m Rebel Lassiter, your neighbor.” The woman, somewhere around her late twenties, smiled and held
out her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m sorry I missed your wedding. Little Rafe was puny, and Travis was in Tascosa on business.”
Oh! This was the woman Josie had talked about who could fix hair. Adeline returned the smile and waved Rebel inside. How she wished she could speak, but all she could do was stand there like a stupid stump.
Rebel seemed unfazed by her silence and thrust the child into her arms. “Please hold him for a moment. I have a hot peach cobbler waiting in the wagon.” Then she was gone in a flash.
Rafe, no more than one year old, judging by the two tiny bottom teeth, stared at Adeline with a look of complete shock. He puckered up to cry.
The boy wasn’t alone in his state of confusion. Adeline blinked and tried to think of what to do. Although she hadn’t held a child this small in years, she jiggled him up and down and made silly faces at him. He switched gears and laughed—then promptly tried to stick a finger up her nose. That part was familiar. Her littlest sister used to do the same.
A shadow darkened the open doorway, and Rebel rushed in. “I’m back.” She carried a luscious-smelling cobbler straight to the kitchen and set it down on the table. Adeline followed with Rafe, her gaze on those practical denim trousers.
How she’d love to own a pair! But whatever would Ridge think?
A wide smile graced Rebel’s face and made her dark eyes sparkle. “This is just my way of saying welcome to Hope’s Crossing. I hope you’ll be as happy here as I am.” Rafe reached for his mother, and she took him from Addie. “My husband, Travis, and I have two older children besides this one. I’m sure you’ll see a lot of us.”
Without a doubt. Adeline nodded, a smile still glued to her face. She reached for her paper and pencil and wrote, “I’m happy to meet you, Rebel. Thank you for the nice welcome—and the dessert.”
Rebel accepted the paper, read it, then took Adeline’s hand. “Please don’t feel embarrassed. I know about your situation. In hindsight, I probably should’ve held off before descending on you, but I couldn’t wait to meet you. Out here, we women have to stick together.”
“Stay for tea? I can make some.”
“Oh, no, I must hurry back—I have a birthday cake to make. Ely, my oldest, is eleven today. I want to have it ready when he and Jenny get out of school.” Rebel wiped Rafe’s nose. “We’re losing the schoolmaster soon, and I don’t know what we’ll do. I hope they find a good teacher before too long.”
A wave of longing for one part of Adeline’s old life came roaring back. She’d loved teaching and had grown so fond of her students. If only she could speak, she’d apply for the job. But at present, that was out of the question.
She accompanied Rebel and the baby to their wagon and waved as they pulled away. In parting, Rebel called out, “You’ll make Ridge very happy. I just know it. If ever anyone needed a wife, it was that man. He’s salt of the earth.”
Adeline went inside, closed and locked the door. Leaning against the heavy wood, she thought of all Rebel had said. Could she make Ridge happy? In her observation, people had to make themselves happy and not depend on others.
Some, like her parents, chose to stay locked in a cheerless, dismal existence. They embraced bitter words and judgmental attitudes as though pain and grief were to be welcomed. Ezekiel Jancy had been cursed with all girls and never hesitated to let everyone know his disappointment. His quest for the boy he’d so desperately wanted, an heir to carry on his life’s work, had been fruitless.
A familiar yearning to jot down her thoughts grew strong inside her and drew her to her pencil and little stack of paper. She’d kept a journal most of her life, and that had proven disastrous when, at her trial, they’d used her words against her, cementing her fate. Yet it seemed safe enough now, so she sat at the table and began to write her thoughts, scattered though they were.
I suppose an outlaw seems like a poor choice for a woman like me, but no one else is strong enough to protect me and stand up to my powerful father. Ezekiel wants to force me to reveal where the boy is, but I’ll never tell, because once I do, he’ll kill me. Only someone like Ridge, who lives outside the law, can protect me. I’ll always be grateful to Nettie Mae. I learned about Luke Legend’s private bride service through her, and through Nettie, I corresponded with Ridge. If not for that, I would’ve fallen back into my father’s clutches upon my release.
I was six the first time I really saw my father for what he was. Even at that age, I saw his fake caring, his obsession with control, his rigid thinking—none of it was normal. I was older than my three sisters, and each time another of us was born, my father’s displeasure became louder. I yearned to live free of his horrifying rages and find a place where laughter and light could erase the darkness. I’m beginning a new life here, where there are endless possibilities, and I’m excited. I have companions in Miss Kitty and her baby, Squeakers. I love them dearly.
The sound of hoofbeats and jangling tack came from behind the house. Fear stiffened her. Adeline dropped the pencil. Her safe room beckoned, but she wanted to be sure. She rose and crept to the door, moved the curtain aside just a fraction, then relaxed when she saw Ridge and Clay riding in. Her gaze shifted to the two horses they herded—a spotted pony and a buckskin.
The beautiful buckskin aroused an old yearning inside her. How she’d wanted her own horse. She’d asked only once. Ezekiel had delivered an instant rebuke in a cutting voice, said she was unworthy, that horses were reserved for boys. That had stung to the quick, and she’d never asked again. Addie blinked hard and shook her head to rid herself of the memory.
The men dismounted, and Ridge strode toward the back door. She unlocked it as he got there, then stepped back.
He poked his head in. “Can you come out for a minute, Addie?”
She nodded and went outside.
“Nice to see you again, Miss Adeline,” Clay called, touching the brim of his hat.
She waved and smiled. Clay was such a good friend to Ridge and seemed very nice.
Her hand got lost in Ridge’s big, calloused palm as he led her to the horses. “Take your pick, Addie. Whichever one you like. A wedding gift from me.”
Sudden thickness clogged her throat. She tugged free of Ridge and ran to the tan buckskin with a black mane and tail, laying her face against the animal’s neck. Tears filled her eyes. The buckskin belonged to her. Only her. She hugged the powerful animal, and his muscles quivered against her chest.
Ridge touched her shoulder, his voice soft. “I thought you’d like that gelding. He’s a beauty and has already been gentled. He’ll make a faithful companion.”
She turned and flung her arms around his neck, clinging to this man who’d seen her value when no one else ever had.
As the overwhelming emotion started to fade, Ridge’s heartbeat, steady and true, pulsed in the corded tendons of his neck. His breath was uneven and ragged, and the fragrant scent of the land that clung to his clothes rose to fill her senses. He folded his arms around her.
Embarrassed, she released her hold and stepped back. His somber amber gaze, his expression held something she’d never seen before. He didn’t exactly smile, but this man she’d married seemed happy in some strange way. If only she wasn’t so ignorant about things. Her tongue worked but no sound came out. She flattened her hand to her mouth and gave the sign they had worked out to mean “thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I can make you happy.” He cleared his throat. “You are very special to me. Always.”
A warm glow swept over her. She turned to the buckskin and caressed the space between the animal’s eyes, vowing silently to love him. The buckskin stared into her eyes, seeming to feel the hurt inside her. The deep connection moved her and she marveled at the love that came through her fingertips. That such a beautiful horse could love her was amazing to consider, but she felt the same way about the gelding.
Adeline prayed she would com
e to love Ridge as she did this buckskin. What had Rebel said? Salt of the earth. Yes, that was it. He did have that fundamental goodness that made him rise above all others.
By pointing to Clay and Ridge, then pretending to drink from a cup, she told them she’d make coffee.
“That’ll hit the spot,” Ridge answered. “We’ll take the horses to the barn. Won’t be long.”
Inside the kitchen, she quickly grabbed the paper she’d written on and took it to her safe room. Then she got coffee on to boil. Soon, the two men filled the space with their large bodies. They sat at the table, talking, and Adeline listened quietly.
Clay took a sip of coffee. “You’ll soon have this place set up the way you want.”
“I suppose, but it’s not moving fast enough to suit me. I’ll pick up our cow and chickens tomorrow, and the peach trees should arrive in the spring.” Ridge turned to Adeline. “We still have time to put in a small garden—some fast-growing things like onions, turnips, beets, and squash. I’ll help you.” He grinned. “Between the buckskin and the garden, you won’t have time to get bored.”
“What are you going to name that buckskin?” Clay asked.
She shrugged. The matter of a name hadn’t even occurred to her.
“We’ll think of something tonight.” Ridge brought the cup to his mouth and took a swig. “I’ve always been partial to Soldier or Ranger. My red sorrel is Cob. But you’ll find the perfect name.”
Pondering the subject, Adeline rose and, with the cats following, went out to the barn to spend some time with her new friend. A name needed to mean something special.
* * *
Ridge’s gaze followed his wife as she went out the door, glad he’d made her happy. Adeline needed more reasons to smile. He dragged his attention back to Clay and the news that his friend was buying five hogs to raise. “They’ll provide a lot of food,” Ridge agreed.
“I’ll get plenty of scraps from the café to feed them.” Clay drained his cup and reached for his hat. “I need to be going or Tally will shoot me. I’m supposed to help Violet with her schoolwork. Say, did you hear that the schoolmaster is leaving?”
