Bounty Hunter's Bride

by Carol Finch

  “Damn serious,” he insisted.

  “You’ve been beaten and shot and you need to rest,” Arliss reminded him.

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” Cale snapped crankily.

  “You will be dead if you don’t rest,” Arliss countered, frowning disapprovingly.

  Cale met the young man’s unyielding stare. “You can either help me outside or watch me get there by myself.”

  When Cale surged onto his wobbly legs, Arliss rushed forward to lend support. Despite Arliss’s objections—and he had plenty of them—Cale staggered down the steps. He clung to the balustrade to take a needed breather while Arliss brought the carriage up to the front porch.

  With the young man’s begrudging assistance, Cale clambered into the vehicle, waited for Skeet to join him and then sprawled on the seat during the ride to town. He had one more piece of business to conduct before Hanna caught the morning stage. By damned, nothing was going to stand in the way of the pursuit of Hanna’s hopes and dreams.

  Walter Malloy bolted straight up in his hotel room bed when the door suddenly banged against the wall. A hulking silhouette, almost larger than life, filled the entrance.

  “Light the lantern, Malloy. We’re gonna talk.”

  It was that blasted bounty hunter, Walter mused as he begrudgingly obeyed the growled request. The man had been shot down and beaten up, yet he just kept coming. Although Walter didn’t approve of this marriage between Cale Elliot and Hanna, he couldn’t help but admire the man’s determination and fortitude. If nothing else, Walter was beyond grateful that Elliot possessed the selfless courage to step in front of a speeding bullet to save Hanna’s life.

  When golden light flickered across the room, Walter peered at the battered bounty hunter and said, “Ten thousand dollars to divorce my daughter. I’ll handle the paperwork.”

  Elliot had the audacity to laugh right in Walter’s face. “You’re a real piece of work, Malloy.”

  “Same goes for you, Elliot.” Walter watched Cale shuffle across the room to park himself, uninvited, in the chair. “What do you want? I’m tired and it’s been a harrowing night. If you had a lick of sense left after having your head bashed in you’d be in bed, too.”

  “While we’re waiting for Arliss to fetch Hanna I want you to know—and I’m only going to say this once, Malloy—that if you do anything to prevent Hanna from heading west tomorrow to follow her own dreams, I’ll be all over you like a bad rash. If she ain’t happy, then I ain’t happy. Remember that,” he said ominously.

  “Twenty thousand dollars,” Walter stated, without batting an eye.

  “You can go straight to hell and take your money with you,” Cale growled at him.

  Walter glanced up when Hanna, dressed in a conservative calico gown, ambled into the room. It was obvious that she’d been crying because her eyes were red and puffy. No doubt the aftermath of her horrendous ordeal had caught up with her, and she’d come crashing down from the emotional tidal wave she’d been riding.

  Hanna’s curious gaze bounced from Walter to Cale. “What’s going on?”

  “We have one more thing to get squared away before you leave town, Mags.” Cale reached into his pocket to retrieve the gold locket, then tossed it to Walter. “Open it.” When Walter merely clutched it tightly in his fist and glowered defiantly, Cale repeated the curt command. “I said open it.”

  While Hanna stared quizzically at him, Cale focused on the bleak expression that suddenly claimed Malloy’s wrinkled features. And, just like that, Cale’s suspicions were confirmed. “It’s time to tell Hanna why you’ve pushed her away from you these past few years. It’s time to explain why looking at her is so difficult for you. Go on, tell her, Malloy, or I’ll do it for you.”

  “Cale, please—” Hanna tried to object.

  Cale held up his hand, demanding her silence. He kept his piercing gaze fixed on Malloy. The color drained from the older man’s face and his shoulders slumped. But, damn the man, he refused to admit why he couldn’t bear to do more than spare his bewitching daughter a passing glance. Well, fine; Cale would take care of the matter himself.

  “Mags, do you remember me telling you that my own mother sent me away because I was a daily reminder of the nightmare that brought me into the world? She couldn’t look at me without seeing the man who molested her.”

  Hanna nodded. “I remember, but I fail to see—”

  “We have more in common than I thought,” Cale interrupted as he stared Malloy down. “In your case, I think looking at you and seeing the spitting image of your mother was painful for an entirely different reason. Wasn’t it, Malloy?”

  The reason for the rift between father and daughter had become vividly clear to Cale an hour earlier, when he’d opened the locket to see Hanna’s startling likeness staring back at him. The sight of the delicate, fair-haired woman standing beside a young boy had hit Cale like a body blow and had robbed him of breath. He’d been staring at Clarissa Malloy, but all Cale had been able to see was Hanna. No doubt Walter had been tormented the same way, only in reverse.

  Malloy’s head dropped, his chin resting on his chest. He squeezed the locket in his fist and after a long moment nodded his head. “I loved her so much,” he whispered on a hitched breath. “She was my life. With each passing year, Hanna, you became more like your mother when I looked at you. You already had her delicate features, her smile and her eyes. You blossomed into the beautiful young woman that Clarissa had been. It was a painful reminder of what I’d lost. Every day of my empty life was staring back at me. I wanted to mold you into her. She was so delicate, refined, soft-spoken and gentle. She was the contrasting half of my soul that made me a better man. Without her…”

  His voice shattered as he lifted misty eyes to Hanna. “I’m sorry, child. I had no right to try to make you into someone you’re not, for my own personal whim. When I saw you tonight, every inch a bold, courageous woman facing dangerous odds, I finally saw you for who you are and what you’re meant to be. Someone very different from your mother. But every bit as exceptional in your own right.”

  “Oh, Papa.” Hanna was in his arms in a flash, holding him to her, and Malloy was clutching her desperately, his eyes glistening with tears of regret. “If you’d only told me what there was about me that tormented you so much I would have understood.”

  Cale swallowed the lump in his throat and reminded himself that sentimentality had no place in the hellish world where he resided. Unnoticed, he rose from the chair to take his leave. He didn’t need to hang around during this tearful reconciliation that had been so long in coming. Father and daughter needed time alone, and he needed to be horizontal in a bed. The energy and strength he’d drawn on to make the trip into town was rapidly abandoning him, and standing upright was becoming an arduous chore.

  When Cale stepped into the hall to prop himself wearily against the wall, Arliss was there to lend a supporting arm. “That was a nice thing you did.” He guided Cale down the hall to a vacant room. “I took the liberty of renting a room, because you definitely need to rest…right now.”

  Cale couldn’t argue with that. He was totally exhausted and he hurt all over. Even worse, he had this hollow, empty feeling in his heart. He knew that—like Walter Malloy, who used bluff and bluster to counter a love that continued to haunt him—he was doomed to the same tormenting fate. He loved Hanna so much he ached with it. He’d taken a bullet for her. He would have died for her if it had come to that. He wanted to ensure that all her dreams came true, even if those dreams didn’t include him.

  With Arliss’s help Cale shed his shirt and stretched out in bed. He was asleep in less than three minutes. But sometime during the night he felt moisture on his lips and tongue, and reflexively swallowed. He thought he caught a whiff of Hanna’s unique scent and felt a featherlight kiss skimming his brow. Or maybe it was just a lifelike fantasy swirling around him. He couldn’t be sure. But he was certain that same fantasy would remain with him all the lonely days of his life
.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Well, Papa? What do you think?” From atop the wagon seat, Hanna smiled admiringly at the ranch house that had become her new home.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Walter asked as he critically surveyed the valley. “This is definitely not New Orleans. It’s the middle of nowhere.”

  “I don’t want New Orleans,” she countered, then smiled indulgently at him.

  Ah, what a difference three days had made in her relationship with her father. They’d come to an understanding once she’d realized why he’d kept an emotional distance between them the past few years. It touched her deeply that her father harbored such strong, unfaltering affection for Clarissa. For all his bombastic bluster Walter Malloy was a passionate man who loved deeply and had turned to business to fill the empty gap in his life.

  And isn’t that what you’re doing, too? Hanna asked herself. She was looking for a place to transfer her unrequited love for Cale. She was searching for another purpose in her life. This recently abandoned ranch near Cromwell was going to be the place where she could make a difference. It wasn’t so far away from New Orleans that she and her father couldn’t visit one another regularly, and she could find plenty of noble causes to support in Cromwell.

  Two days earlier, Hanna had asked Arliss to send a telegram to the son of the former owners of the ranch that Pryor had overtaken. Yesterday, Hanna had received word that the ranch was hers for the generous purchase price she’d offered. She had every intention of making something honest and good from this place that had become the devil’s playground.

  In addition, she’d purchased the gun shop property from Arliss and intended to oversee the business—with the help of an assistant. Weaponry, after all, appeared to be her hidden talent. She’d become something of a heroine, an inspiration to the other women in town, after her participation in the battle that had brought an end to Pryor’s reign of terror.

  Cromwell was going to become Hanna’s new hometown, and she knew she needed to look no further to find her niche in this world.

  “This place will need considerable work,” Walter commented. “That furniture has got to go. I’ll have the proper furnishings delivered after I return to New Orleans.”

  When Hanna tossed him a warning glance, he blew out a breath. “Oh all right, do it your way,” he said, relenting.

  She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Papa. I’m glad you’re beginning to realize that I’m in control of my life these days.”

  “And I’m stuck with the annoying task of informing Louis Beauchamp that you don’t want to marry him.” Walter rubbed his temples and scowled. “The mere prospect of listening to him issue more threats gives me a headache.”

  “I’ve no doubt that you can handle that pompous aristocrat,” she said confidently. “You’ve managed to handle everyone else.”

  “Except you and that fire-breathing husband of yours,” he grumbled. “Just what are you going to do about him?”

  The question wiped the teasing smile off Hanna’s lips. She stared into the distance, trying to compose herself, trying not to let her hurt and longing show.

  “You already admitted that you’re in love with that big brute,” Walter reminded her. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “We had a bargain and we both kept our end of it,” Hanna said as she guided the wagon of supplies to her new home.

  “And you’re not your father’s daughter if you’re going to give up what you want that easily,” Walter declared. “Bribe the man to stay. It works for me.”

  Hanna chuckled and her father grinned playfully.

  “And furthermore,” Walter continued, “how am I going to get grandchildren to spoil and pamper if you’re married without actually being married in the true sense of the word?”

  The prospect of never having children of her own to love caused Hanna’s smile to wobble. The vision of a son with coal-black hair and eyes the color of midnight leaped to mind. Well, not all dreams were meant to come true, she reminded herself. She’d have to settle for making a home on this ranch and overseeing the gun shop.

  “I suppose I could offer to pay the man to get you with child, in between his forays in Indian Territory,” Walter said.

  “Papa!” Hanna gaped at him, scandalized.

  “Oh, for heaven sake, don’t look at me like that,” Walter grumbled. “The man will obviously do anything you ask of him. You’ve kept him drugged with laudanum for three days so he’ll stay off his feet long enough to recover from the bullet he took for you. I can’t imagine that sleeping with a beautiful woman who is legally his wife would be an appalling imposition.”

  “We will have no more discussion on the subject,” Hanna declared as she brought the wagon to a halt beside the front porch. “You promised to help me stock the house, not overrun my life. I’m holding you to that promise.”

  Although Walter mumbled and grumbled and objected to the fact that Hanna hadn’t hired someone to tackle the task of moving into the house, he toted one box after another inside.

  Hanna was relieved that her father had dropped the sensitive subject of her husband and their permanent separation. She desperately needed time to accept the fact that Cale wanted no future with her.

  Cale Elliot didn’t love her. He was an honest man and he would have said so in plain English if he did. She’d always been able to count on Cale to be truthful with her.

  She, like her father, obviously fell in love only once, and nothing could alter or diminish those soul-deep feelings. Well, at least her father had had several years with Clarissa. Unfortunately, Hanna had been granted only a little more than a month with Cale. Maybe their short time together would make forgetting him easier—but she had serious doubts about that.

  Hanna drew a steadying breath and glanced around her new home on the outskirts of civilization. She was committed to making this ranch prosper and bringing about improvement in Cromwell. This was her life now and she would fill it with newfound friends, noble causes and community activities. She’d find dozens of projects to occupy her days and nights after the one great love of her life recovered from his injuries and rode away to resume his duties for Parker.

  Cale would take her heart with him when he left. She couldn’t imagine how she would function without it. Without him.

  Cale groaned as he came slowly awake. His lashes fluttered up and he was pleased to note that both eyelids were functioning normally. Damn, what an amazing difference one night’s sleep had made! He glanced at his arm to note a fresh bandage had been applied to the gunshot wound. A pasty salve covered the nick left by the first bullet he hadn’t quite dodged during the fiasco in the street.

  He glanced toward the blaring light that shone in the window and felt a huge sense of loss settle over him. He knew Hanna was long gone and he’d never see her again. The thought caused a knot to coil in his growling belly.

  Cale knew he’d done the right thing by letting Hanna go, but he missed her like crazy already. Well, he’d just have to keep himself occupied. He’d haul Pryor and company to Fort Smith, then he’d head out with another pocketful of bench warrants to clean up Indian Territory. That’s what he did, after all. That’s what he was good at. Good for.

  The creak of the hotel room door put Cale on instant alert. He reflexively reached for his pistol, but it wasn’t on his hip or under his pillow. Well, damn. If the intruder pounced, Cale would have to rely on hand-to-hand combat, and he wasn’t up to that yet. His body still pulsed and ached in places he’d forgotten he had.

  To his vast relief, Arliss Fenton’s red head appeared around the side of the door. “Good morning,” Arliss greeted him cheerfully. “I’m sending in some young lads to fill the tub so you can bathe and shave.”

  Cale appreciated the considerate gesture. He waited for the procession of boys to file in and out, and then he eased into the steamy tub. Feeling much better, he dressed in the clean clothes someone had laid over the back
of the chair.

  A few minutes later Arliss returned, carrying a breakfast tray. Cale’s eyes popped when he noticed the town marshal badge pinned to Arliss’s chest. “When did that happen?”

  “The townsfolk appointed me as their interim marshal,” Arliss said proudly. “Although I don’t have the same hero status as you and Hanna, I was sworn in by Julius and Pierce. They claimed that, since I was the only man in town willing to stand up against Pryor, the job should be mine.”

  Cale stared at the badge, which had been polished to a shine. Once again it was a prestigious symbol of law and order. “The townsfolk made a wise choice.”

  Arliss grinned as he set the tray on Cale’s lap. “Thank you. Luckily, there’ll be no criminal activities now that Otis Pryor and his henchmen have been toted off to Fort Smith. I don’t have to divide too much of my time between the telegraph and marshal’s offices.”

  “What?” Cale howled in disbelief. “Who hauled off Pryor’s gang? Julius and Pierce? Damn it, that was to be my job.”

  He needed that preoccupation to keep his mind off Hanna, so he wouldn’t spend every waking hour wondering where she was, how much trouble she’d get herself into without him around to protect her, and how many men were standing in line to take his place in her bed.

  “Julius and Pierce are still in town. It was the Pinker-tons who volunteered to transport the prisoners to Fort Smith. They will be sending your reward money to Cromwell,” the red-haired marshal said. Then he winked. “According to Julius and Pierce you’re going to make a bundle on the bounties.”

  “I don’t want the money,” Cale grumbled before he dived into the crisp bacon and fluffy biscuits. Damn, he was famished. You’d think he hadn’t eaten in a week.

  “The reward money is yours, nonetheless,” Arliss replied as he crossed his arms over his narrow chest and propped himself leisurely against the wall.

  “Did you see that Hanna got on the morning stage without her father demanding that she return to New Orleans?” Cale asked. His gaze narrowed warily when Arliss shifted uneasily from one booted foot to the other. Cale slammed down his fork. “Damn it, Arliss, I only asked one favor of you.”