Wed to the Texas Outlaw Read online

  She heard a rumble of sorts but could not begin to identify what it could be. Her roaring heart, distant thunder...

  She knew when Buck raised his shotgun because Boone tensed, his muscles shifting for a lunge.

  The shot exploded. She saw Efrin’s head slam against the barn wall.

  Dead beyond a doubt, he slumped over.

  “Had it comin’. All those years of ordering me around like I was his trained rat.” Buck turned his satisfied smile upon Boone. “’Course that don’t mean I ain’t going to kill you, anyway, even though I do admire an outlaw with your balls. I’ll take no pleasure in it, though. Not for you, your lady or the little man. Getting rid of you folks is just something I gotta do to protect myself and my brothers.”

  The odd rumble got closer. So close that she was beginning to make out shouting voices. Angry, shouting voices, she was certain of it.

  There! In the distance, she saw torches bobbing in the dark. The bearers were running. And there were so many of them.

  Buck turned when a large man yelling curses broke away from the rest. The fellow waved something in his fist, but in the dark she could not tell what the object was.

  Openmouthed and clearly empty-brained, Buck watched the man rush him. At the last second he must have gathered his wits because he raised his shotgun and pointed it at the attacker’s belly.

  Boone leaped, tackled Buck at the feet and yanked him off balance. While he was still falling, the attacker slammed Buck in the head with a shovel.

  “That is for trying to lead my boy to sin!” The butcher raised the pointed end of the shovel over Buck’s throat. “This is for threatening to cut off my hand!”

  Boone pushed away the tool on the down stroke.

  Melinda recognized the child as the King’s messenger boy. He stood behind his father, his head hung in shame.

  The man, who could only be the butcher, yanked his son out from behind him.

  “I discovered what was about to happen here when I caught my hotheaded boy bragging about it to his friends. Me and the rest of the folks figured if we were ever going to take back Jasper Springs, it had to be now, before they murdered the only one who ever stood up for us.” The butcher shoved his boy in Boone’s direction. “You have something to say to Mr. Walker.”

  “I—I’m sorry. I promise I won’t grow up to be like you, sir.”

  The butcher cuffed his offspring on the ear. “You better grow up to be just like him.”

  “But he told me—”

  “Boone Walker is a hero, never forget that.”

  “I won’t, Pa. You have my word. So do you, Mr. Walker.”

  With a gentle pat to the boy’s cheek, the butcher turned his attention to Boone.

  The rest of the group stood behind their leader. The reflection of their torches cast an eerie red glow on the mud.

  “This town owes you a debt. Don’t make no difference to us what the rest of the country thinks of you, you have a home here. We’ll watch out for you.”

  A lump swelled in Melinda’s throat. Even with her husband’s reputation the stuff of nightmares, the people of Jasper Springs offered refuge.

  Well, naturally they would. They had come to know the Boone Walker she had known from the beginning.

  “That’s kind of you all, but my wife and I are going home. As soon as I deliver these outlaws to Judge Mathers in Buffalo Bend, we’ll be on our way.”

  One would think that the town marshal would be present to take the criminals, but he was not.

  “If you’ll take my prisoners to the jail, I’ll collect them in the morning.”

  “It would be an honor—Deputy?” Someone answered, apparently noticing the badge. A murmur began, starting at the front of the crowd and rolling to the back. Their confusion about who Boone was, was understandable. “A great honor.”

  Heads nodded in agreement. One by one they came forward to shake Boone’s hand, offer their thanks.

  The butcher and another man tossed the living Kings, belly-first, onto horses and secured them, the same as they did to the dead man.

  A few moments later the yard was empty.

  “Trudy will be worried, so I’ll be on my way.” Mounting the mule, Stanley turned in the saddle. “I’ll meet you in Buffalo Bend.”

  Stanley rode out of the circle of lamplight.

  Together, she and Boone stood listening to the mule’s hooves clop away.

  The wind was cold, their clothing wet, yet they stood for some time, facing each other and simply smiling.

  “We have a future, Mrs. Walker.” Boone lifted a damp strand of hair away from her face, brushing the arch of her cheekbone with his thumb. “What shall we do with it?”

  “Make love all night in our first home.” Odd how a humble loft, barely big enough to walk around in, could feel like home, but it did.

  She took his hand and turned toward the barn, but he stopped her.

  “Melinda?” He cocked his head at her. “Did you ever feel like living here was beneath you? Stanley thought—”

  “Stanley has changed a great deal since I met him. I have not.”

  “What if I can never give you a grand home?”

  “I don’t need one. Cozy is cozy wherever you find it. When you think about it, it might be harder to find cozy in a large, drafty place. I don’t care about how big our walls are, just as long as there’s room for our babies to sleep.”

  He smiled and seemed different now that everything was over. A new spirit shone out of him.

  “You know that I don’t want our marriage annulled? That you are mine forever?”

  “I know, Boone. I always have.”

  “There’s one more thing. I want to be a preacher.”

  He looked apprehensive. Did he want her approval or did he wonder if she would declare him insane?

  “You’ll be perfect!” And he would. “Not everyone understands what it is they were meant to do. I’m so very proud of you.”

  He hugged her tight, sighed against her hair. “So what’s the price you put on my head a while ago?”

  She let go of him and backed toward the barn. “There’re only a few hours left until morning, husband, which I don’t intend to spend sleeping. If you want to know your value, you’ll have to catch me.”

  With a wink, she spun around and ran for the barn. Boone chased her, laughing.

  After all that had just happened, maybe it was wrong to feel so elated. A man had lost his life right in front of her eyes, after all.

  But Boone had not. The good one had triumphed and the evil one had perished.

  And life had suddenly opened up, bright and shining.

  * * *

  It had been less than a month since Boone had sat in this courthouse, but it seemed a lifetime ago.

  The guard was the same fellow, but this time he wasn’t hired to keep Boone from running, rather for his protection.

  While the judge had signed the document granting him his freedom—even overturned his original verdict, in the public eye he was still the scourge of everything decent.

  “I wonder why the judge has called us here?” Melinda tangled her fingers up in his, squeezed them hard. Her hand felt damp and he guessed she was nervous.

  He was, too.

  Having turned the outlaws over to face justice, he had expected to leave Buffalo Bend right away. Melinda was nervously anxious to go to Kansas City and introduce him to her mother. Then Judge Mathers had insisted they stay a couple of days longer.

  A couple of days where they had been confined to a hotel room with a guard posted outside the door.

  As it turned out, the confinement was far from a hardship.

  Boone had hoped the guard in the hall was not of a prudish nature. A honeymoon was not a restrained o
ccasion; not a quiet one, either.

  He had spent the hours of seclusion getting to know every inch of his wife’s pretty body, how it responded to a stroke, a kiss. They’d explored long, slow hours of gentle lovemaking, as well as the fast, hard joining of bodies.

  This sort of a sexual union was as new to him as it was to her. The man he used to be had simply hurried the act to complete a physical need. In the marriage bed he was learning the joy of giving and taking love.

  A chair scraping on the floor of the judge’s chamber brought his attention back to the here and now.

  He noticed that Melinda was staring at him, her cheeks flushed. One thing about a wife, he’d learned, was that she had an uncanny knack for knowing her husband’s thoughts.

  He’d learned a few other things, as well. Yep, he reckoned that the pretty pink coloring in her cheeks was not due to shyness but to answered longing.

  He wished the judge would hurry and tell him what this delay was all about. He was anxious to take his wife and be on their way to Montana.

  Cautiously on the way. A document would hardly protect them from an overeager lawman or bounty hunter.

  The doorknob to the judge’s chambers turned with a squeal. Boone felt Melinda’s quick inhalation.

  Smythe came out first. The judge strode out behind him, hands clasped behind his back. He only hoped Mathers was not about to offer another bargain.

  “No need to stand,” the judge declared, waiving his hand. “I’m not in robes.”

  It was darn hard to sit, though, not knowing what was going on.

  Garbled voices came from outside the window. It was early for saloon patrons to be gathering.

  “Keep them out for a few more moments, Mr. Guise,” Mathers told the guard.

  It was hard to guess what those murmuring voices could mean, but Stanley was grinning, so it must be all right.

  Before he said a word, Mathers shook Boone’s hand. “I still can’t figure out how you managed it, Walker. Again, you have my thanks—the thanks of everyone in Jasper Springs.”

  Mathers nodded to Melinda, sent her a warm smile. “As do you, Mrs. Walker. From the looks of things, I feel it will be acceptable to destroy the marriage annulment I have prepared?”

  “Is that it?” Boone pointed to a sheaf of paper tucked under the judge’s arm.

  When Mathers nodded and handed it to him, he ripped it in two. Then he passed it to Melinda who tore it into a dozen pieces.

  “Now there’s the matter of the reward.” Mathers patted the pocket of his shirt. His hand made a tapping sound on a bulge under the fabric.

  “Money?” he asked, hope warring with doubt. He had not considered a reward. A few dollars would be a boon to a new family man.

  Mathers handed him an envelope. “Three thousand dollars.”

  Hell’s curs— Blazing blessings, he meant. Not just a family man, but one with a nest egg.

  There was one more thing he didn’t want to leave here without, though.

  “Many thanks, Judge, but what about the dog?”

  “I hate to lose a good deputy, but if he stays or goes, I reckon that’s up to him. But if he does go, I’ll need twenty of those dollars back.”

  Without a thought Boone dug into the envelope and handed Mathers forty. It felt odd, but good to make a legitimate purchase.

  He had no doubt that the deputy would follow Melinda. Apparently the power of her charm extended to the canine species.

  All at once the voices outside stopped and a dozen or more footsteps shuffled across the boardwalk.

  “I reckon we ought to stop by the bank before we leave town.”

  “I wish I could convince you to take the job of sheriff in Jasper Springs, Walker. The folks there want you.”

  “I was fortunate, Judge. I arrested the Kings without having to kill any of them. But lawmen aren’t always that lucky. I reckon the day would come when I’d be called upon to do it. I’ve got my sights set another way.”

  The judge nodded, smiled. “Smythe, as the last duty to your client, would you send in the reporters?”

  Dang nation! Men with photographic instruments spilled through the doorway, as well as five with pencils and notepads. At the front of the crowd was a woman with a hundred questions that she tried to ask all at once.

  “Is it true that you were falsely convicted? That you aren’t even a killer? That you were forced to marry? That—”

  A photographer waved for him and Melinda to stand still. A bright flash illuminated the room.

  Melinda motioned vigorously for Stanley to come and stand with them. With the three of them standing shoulder to shoulder, the flash erupted again.

  “Is it true,” a man asked, dabbing the point of his pencil on a paper pad, “that you saved a whole town singlehandedly? And without killing a man?”

  “It seems far-fetched,” another reporter said, wagging his head and frowning.

  “I can understand why you think so.” Melinda folded her hands at her waist, smiled then walked away from him and Smythe to greet the doubter.

  While the photographers continued to take pictures of him and his lawyer, the rest of the reporters gathered around Melinda.

  Hang it if they didn’t look like a hoard of bees buzzing around a pollen-laden flower.

  “I will be the first to say that it looked as though we were all going to die. Why, I doubt that even the baby would have been safe from that horrid King gang.”

  The scratch of pencils across paper stilled.

  “There was a baby?” the woman asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

  “Of course. And, really, little Diana is the first one to owe her life to Boone Walker. Let’s all sit down, there’s so much to tell we’ll all end up exhausted if we stand.”

  Melinda sat in a chair. The reporters sat on the floor at her feet, expectant little bees gathered around their queen. Naturally, the photographer captured the image.

  “So, there we were, being chased by the Kings, all except for Leland, the one known as Copperhead—for some reason they gave themselves the names of snakes. Well, Leland had already been brought down by Deputy Billbro, who is part wolf, part dog. But, sadly, the Copperhead was not down for good. We’ll get back to him in a bit. So the person they were really after that day was Dr. Brown who was in the back of the wagon delivering baby Diana who was breach...”

  “They’ll give me hero of the year award by the time she’s finished with them.”

  “Probably, but then you would deserve it.” Stanley shrugged, nodded.

  All this hero talk made him uneasy, but it did serve a purpose. Better to be hailed in the public eye as a hero than a villain, he reckoned.

  “When are you going to marry Miss Trudy?” Boone asked to divert the talk from things heroic. It only took a glance at Smythe’s smitten face to know it would be soon.

  “About the time this show is over and you and your wife can meet us at the church. An hour, maybe?”

  It made his stomach churn for a moment, thinking of setting foot in a church. But given his chosen profession, he reckoned he’d have to get over feeling unworthy.

  Maybe he could do it. It had been several days since he’d cussed. He reckoned it was a start down the good path.

  “Then, there we were, the four of them circling us with their horses—I declare they looked just like vultures—and Boone lying on top of me, once again using his body to protect me...”

  “I expected to say a few words on your behalf, Walker,” the judge said, coming to stand beside him and Stanley. “Looks like your wife will have you the hero of a dime novel before you set foot out of town.”

  Since there was still a good bit of the story to tell, Boone sat on the floor with the others. Looking up, he fell in love with Melinda even more than he already
was.

  Reunions

  Kansas City, December

  Mama

  The fancy fringe on the roof of the elegant rented buggy swayed madly in the icy wind whipping down the road. Up ahead the plaque for the Kansas City Ladies Cultural Club squealed on cold, iron hinges.

  Billbro, taking up the whole of the backseat, didn’t seem to mind the falling temperature, but Melinda snuggled against the warmth of Boone’s big, warm body. It was only midafternoon, but all she could think of was sitting in front of a blazing fire. Hopefully beside Mama.

  She wasn’t certain what her reception would be. She was as likely to be rejected as to be welcomed, given the way she had left home against her mother’s wishes.

  No one could hold on to an ill temper the way her mother could.

  “I reckon we might have snow for Christmas.” Boone tugged her tighter to him. “Still nervous, honey?”

  “I feel as jittery as the decoration on this buggy that you paid so much to rent.”

  “I’m not bringing you home in a buckboard. Scary enough meeting a mother-in-law for the first time as it is.”

  She tipped her face up, felt the nip of cold on her nose, then kissed his cheek. “She will be impressed.”

  “Enough to overlook my past, I hope.”

  “And mine.” She found Boone’s free hand under the blanket spread across their laps. “Living in the wilderness was never her dream for my future.”

  “Marrying an outlaw couldn’t have been, either.”

  “If she’s heard of you, she’ll not be happy. But a minister as a son-in-law, there is some prestige in that.”

  Up ahead on the boardwalk a couple struggled in the wind. The man dragged a fair-size Christmas tree behind him. The pair must have found the struggle amusing because they were laughing.

  For some reason the sound warmed her. Her nervous stomach eased a bit.

  She focused her attention on the happy woman as their buggy rolled up behind them.

  It was shallow of her, but she found comfort in the stranger’s clothing. Her coat was red with a white ruffle at the hem and cuffs. A sprig of mistletoe hung from her bonnet by a green satin ribbon.