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Spears nodded, quiet for a moment. “You sure you’re a killer? I don’t see it in your eyes.”
“That I am...but only the one time and both of us were drunk.”
“It’ll sound strange, but I’m disappointed to hear it.”
“I’ve been a thief since I was in long pants, if that eases your mind.”
“Some, I reckon. Say, I don’t hold a man’s past against him. I needed a fresh start myself, once. And don’t worry about the return of the wagon and horses. They’re yours—just—if you’ll keep my kin safe.”
Generosity on the part of strangers was not something he was used to. While he stumbled around in his mind thinking of a proper way to thank him, the door creaked open.
Mathers and Miss Winston—Mrs. Walker, rather—stepped inside.
His wife’s cheeks were blushed pink from the cold. It hit him all of a sudden how glad he was that his bride was not that Cherry woman.
“I’ve written up a few things,” the judge said, bypassing any sort of cordial greeting. “There’s a map to Jasper Springs, a bit about the outlaws, the parts you and your wife will play. Oh, and you’ll need cash.” He handed him a roll of money wrapped in a rubber band. Hard to tell how much, but it seemed to be a good sum.
“Good morning, Boone.” Melinda’s smile might as well have been sunrise, it was that bright and cheerful. “I hope you slept well.”
“Best I’ve slept in some time.” He hadn’t expected to, but he must have since he hadn’t even noticed Smythe take his leave. “You look refreshed.”
“It must be married life.” She shot him a wink and he sucked in a breath.
“Where’s Deputy Billbro?” Mathers asked, glancing around.
“Just went out to relieve himself. He’ll be along as soon as he smells folks in the livery.”
“Everything you need to know ought to be in here.” The judge handed the stack of papers to Melinda.
“One more detail...” Harlan Mathers dug around in his coat pocket. “Here it is. Don’t put it on until you make an arrest, your settler roles would be compromised.”
“It” was a deputy’s badge, bent and tarnished, but a symbol of law and order none the less.
What Boone wanted to do was dump it in the dirt. That badge had been his enemy for too many years.
He tossed it in the air, caught it and then put it in his coat pocket.
“Send me a wire now and again to let me know how you’re progressing.”
Without warning, the door opened again.
Boone had to blink to make sure he saw right.
There stood his lawyer dressed for adventure, from his stiff-looking new Stetson to his denims and his barely scuffed boots.
The new get-up made him look an inch or two taller. Even his strides seemed longer.
“Stanley?” Melinda’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
From the far side of the door a mule brayed.
“That will be Weaver, my mount. As to what I’m doing here, isn’t it obvious?”
“Can’t see that it is,” Boone said.
“I made a promise to bring Miss Winston home, safe and sound.” Stanley said. “I’m beginning to regret that vow but I did make it.”
“Stanley, I’m sure my husband is equal to the task.”
The little lawyer chuckled under his breath while shaking his head.
“Well, I’m for my bed,” Judge Mathers declared.
“Not quite, sir,” Smythe said. “I’ll see the signed papers granting my client his freedom.”
“I’ll gladly sign them, just as soon as the job is finished.”
“I’ll have that written in pen and ink. What is there to say that you will not re-arrest him once things are wrapped up?”
“What’s to say he won’t take his freedom and head for the hills?”
“I say he won’t,” Melinda declared. “I vouch for him.”
Why? She didn’t know beans about him.
“And I bear witness that Mathers has agreed to sign the document,” Spears added.
It seemed, with the details arranged and the vouching finished, it was time to leave the warmth of the livery.
Spears hitched the team then strode to the livery door. He opened it and stuck his head out. “Billbro! You finished with that pee?”
Seconds later an animal nosed his way into the livery.
“My word,” Melinda exclaimed and scuttled closer to Boone. “Is that a wolf?”
“As far as anyone knows, Deputy Billbro is only half wolf.” Judge Mathers petted the canine between the ears. “You’ll be glad he’s along once you get used to him.”
There were a lot of things that Boone was going to have to get used to. The dog probably being the least of them.
For one thing, his wife was clinging to his arm, seeking protection.
He’d never been responsible for anyone but himself. All of a sudden there was a woman, a town and very likely a lawyer who needed to be watched over.
He’d better start getting used to the dog-wolf, since he was going to need all the help he could get.
* * *
Sometime during the wee hours of their first night on the trail, Melinda sat up suddenly from her bedroll. She gazed past the embers of the dying fire feeling uneasy.
One difference between Melinda and her husband of a day was clear already.
He looked quite comfortable sleeping under the stars while she preferred peering out at the night from behind a window in a bed piled high with feather blankets.
Darkness throbbed beyond the shrinking glow of the campfire. She could nearly imagine that nothing existed in that blackness...or that everything did. What was there to say that a wolf or even a bear wasn’t lurking behind a tree? A cougar poised on the limb over her head?
She would feel better if the deputy was awake. The great hairy dog-wolf lay at her feet snoring, but not as loudly as Stanley was.
The lawyer dozed between her and Boone; a human buffer. Surely the noise he made alerted every predator within a mile. Another log on the fire might help ward them off.
She hadn’t even made it to her knees to get a log before the dog lifted his snout and Boone cracked open an eye.
“What’s the trouble?” he asked, propping up on an elbow.
“It’s too dark to sleep.”
“I reckon it’s not the dark keeping you awake.” He nodded toward Stanley.
The dog stood, stretched, sniffed the air then resettled his large gray body alongside her leg. He plopped his heavy head on her lap, seeming so content that she would believe he had gone back to sleep if it wasn’t for his nose twitching this way and that.
“It’s always darkest and coldest about now,” Boone said. “But it’ll be sunup soon.”
“I guess you’ve slept in the open many times.”
He nodded. “A body becomes accustomed to the fresh air and freedom. I’ll admit, those nights in prison were hell on earth. I’d take a wild beast over some of those inmates any time.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“It wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve.” He gazed up at the stars, silent for a moment before looking back at her. “Melinda, thank you for what you did. I should have said so earlier but with all the travel there wasn’t time to talk.”
She laughed softly. “And my guardian did keep us apart as much as he could.”
“Dedicated of him.” His smile twitched up on one side. This was not Lantree’s smile. Mischief lurked in the turn of Boone’s lips.
“Well intentioned, I suppose, but he hasn’t even given us a moment of privacy so that I can tell you about your brother.”
Boone blew out a low whistle. “There’s a part of me that’s afraid to know. He’s got a baby and a wife, though, so I reckon he must have turned out all right.”
“He’s all right now, but he did go through hard times.”
“Because of me, do you mean?”
“Oh, he worried about you, certainly. But his hard times weren’t to do with you, Boone.” She petted the dog’s head, curled her fingers into his warm fur. “Before Lantree married my cousin, Rebecca, he was engaged to another woman. At that time your brother was a doctor, a very good one, too. Well, there was an epidemic, a lot of folks died under his care, his fiancé’s family among them. She blamed him—he blamed himself. She ended the engagement, and very bitterly.
“Poor Lantree ran away, from his career and himself. He was in a hard way when Rebecca’s grandfather found him and gave him a new career as foreman of his ranch. I believe that Grandfather Moreland—he’s not really my grandfather but that’s how I feel about him so that’s what I call him—gave your brother much more than a job. What he gave him was a new life. Lantree found healing at Moreland Ranch. Now he’s a cowboy and a doctor.”
“And a proud father?”
“He couldn’t be otherwise. Baby Caroline is the sweetest little thing you could ever hope to see. She’s only five months old, but already she looks just like her daddy...and you.”
“I’ll be damned.” Boone looked pleased, smiling in a way she hadn’t seen until now.
“You’ll see that for yourself soon.”
He was silent for a moment, gazing at the glowing coals and the fingers of flame darting from the crumbling logs.
“We ought to talk about this marriage—set some rules,” he said at last.
“If you like.” Dratted rules. They tended to chafe at her. Especially since they tended to put unreasonable restrictions on her behavior. If Boone took his job as her husband too seriously, he might try to control her.
Just like Mama when she’d lost her sparkle and shackled herself, and her young daughters, with society’s every little directive.
“Our wedding could not have been the one you dreamed of.” He arched a brow.
Naturally not. What woman could possibly dream up such a wedding? But it did have to be said that it was adventurous. And there was no denying she was intrigued at the idea of being a wife, of having a man of her own, even for a short time.
“I just want to make it clear that you won’t miss out on the one with all the frills and fancies because of me. I promise that I won’t compromise you.”
She felt the blush staining her neck and face but in the dim light he would not see it. Really, he had no way of knowing that in the deep hours of the night she had entertained intimate thoughts of him.
What wife would not? Boone Walker intrigued her in ways that no man ever had. Even men she had known for quite some time.
“That goes without saying,” she said demurely, but there was that in her that stuffed down a sliver of disappointment. If a woman was to be compromised by such a man, it could not truly be called a compromise.
Prudent women might call her a fool for feeling such stirrings for a stranger—a reportedly dangerous stranger—but Rebecca would not. Rebecca knew that Melinda was an astute judge of character.
“I won’t make unreasonable claims upon you, unless we are playing our parts.”
“I do appreciate your restraint.” She tried not to smile.
He nodded, sighed even.
“I’ll protect you with my blood if it comes to it. I just ask that you respect my decisions when it has to do with your safety.”
The last thing she wanted was his blood on her conscience. She had come to restore him to his family not take him away.
“I will do my very best,” she answered more somberly.
“Well, then.” He offered his hand, as though to seal the conditions of their agreement. “I believe we’ll have a good marriage.”
He might not think so if he knew how the press of his palm on hers made her stomach flutter.
“Good night, then.” She withdrew her hand, scooted down beside the dog and closed her eyes.
Sadly, no matter how tightly she squeezed them shut, she could not hide from a niggling suspicion.
It was not impossible that there might be something between her and Boone and it wasn’t Stanley Smythe.
Chapter Four (#ulink_c6ec768b-4217-5da2-8b35-91a49dade747)
