скачать книгу бесплатно
Bride of Shadow Canyon
Stacey Kayne
Respectable showgirl…When the widowed boarding-house-keeper he has come to rescue turns out to be a scantily clad showgirl, Jed Doulan knows he’s in for trouble. With his shadowed past, he’d be mad to let this spirited – surprisingly innocent – woman get close. …rebellious brideBound by a hasty marriage to her reluctant hero, Rachell Carlson senses his struggle to keep a distance between them. But the message in Jed’s eyes makes her pulse quicken – and even dares her to believe in love!
Praise for Stacey Kayne:
BRIDE OF SHADOW CANYON
‘Kayne’s latest is fast-paced, action-packed and filled with sexual tension.’
—RT Book Reviews
MOUNTAIN WILD
‘Kayne’s strong and appealing characters and colourful Western setting deliver just the right amount of flavour to a tough and tender story.’
—RT Book Reviews
MUSTANG WILD
‘Fast-paced and well written, MUSTANG WILD was a delight to devour…Highly romantic, with just the right touch of humour, MUSTANG WILD is one for the keeper shelf. Stacey Kayne has penned a treasure…’
—Cataromance
‘This strong debut is a tale of one woman’s struggle to overcome a father’s deceit before she can find peace, forgiveness and passion with the man meant for her. Each character carries his or her own weight, adding depth and humour to this honestly written story.’
—RT Book Reviews
MAVERICK WILD
‘Excitement, mystery and delight fill the pages of MAVERICK WILD, Stacey Kayne’s latest historical treasure. Kayne can weave a story that will capture you and not let go. She has demonstrated herself to be a talented force in the world of Western romance.’
—Cataromance
‘Kayne carries off a warm-hearted Americana Western with…feisty characters, a loving family atmosphere, small-town troubles and the gritty reality of life in the Wild West.’
—RT Book Reviews
What have I done to deserve this?
Jed froze at the sight of his young bride sleeping soundly in his bedroll.
He suppressed a groan while trying to push the tantalizing image of her perfect, pint-size body from his mind. His gaze skimmed across her pretty face before he forced himself to look away.
Heavens, but he’d never had so much trouble controlling his wayward thoughts. This little bit of a woman, who’d done nothing but glare and shout at him, was making short work of the disciplined control he usually executed over his mind and body.
She didn’t care for him one bit, which suited Jed just fine. The wide stretch of land between them and California required an aggressive spirit. Judging by the glint in Rachell’s eyes and the rigidness of her spine, she planned to fight him like a cornered mountain lion the whole way.
Bride of Shadow Canyon
Stacey Kayne
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
STACEY KAYNE has always been a daydreamer. If the comments on her elementary school report cards are any indication, it’s a craft she mastered early on. Having a passion for history and a flair for storytelling, she strives to weave fact and fiction into a wild ride that can capture the heart. Stacey lives on a ranch near the Sierra Nevada, with her high-school sweetheart turned husband of eighteen years and their two sons. Visit her website at www.staceykayne.com
Recent novels by the same author:
MUSTANG WILD
MAVERICK WILD
MOUNTAIN WILD
COURTED BY THE COWBOY (part of Stetsons, Spring and Wedding Rings anthology)
BRIDE OF SHADOW CANYON was my first completed historical Western romance novel, and is dedicated to my very first readers.
Sometimes it takes a village to raise an author, and I want to thank those in my village who offered to read my early work and provided much-needed guidance and encouragement.
Phyllis Hoatson, Kathy Riemer, Rosli Chavez, Terri Micene, Debra Salonen, Michelle Fitch, Terry McLaughlin, Jackie Rosinski, Diane Haynes, Anne Riemer, Judi Kuehl, Renee Luke, Cheryl Bright, Carla Hughes, Sheila Rae Mohs, and all the RWA contest judges who praised my writing, scolded my heroes and shared their knowledge.
Special thanks to Linda Fildew, Lydia Mason, Maddie Rowe and Joanne Carr, the wonderful editors at Harlequin Mills & Boon, who’ve been a joy to work with.
Chapter One
Colorado Territory, 1870
I’ll stand before God before I lie under Maxwell Sumner!
The silent vow echoed in Rachell Carlson’s mind as she pulled the sheet tightly around her cold body, her narrowed eyes boring into the locked bedroom door. The stench of smoke and alcohol filtered up through the floorboards, along with the roar of a drunken crowd and the clanking of a poorly tuned piano.
If Maxwell’s henchmen thought taking her dress would keep her from running, they were in for a surprise. She’d ride out of this old mining town stark naked if she had to. She wouldn’t return to Missouri or to the man determined to make her his bride.
She turned and walked to the other side of the small room. Securing the bed linen around her chest, she shoved at the high window, and cringed with each creak of wood. The damp night air swirled inside. Chills rippled across her skin as the evening breeze tugged at her loose hair.
Outside, a full moon glowed ten times brighter than the oil lamp on the night table behind her, lighting up the deserted alley below. She pulled the sheet over her shoulders to shut out the cold as she surveyed the steep awning stretched across the back of the saloon. It was a good twenty-foot drop to the ground.
Using both bed linens, she might be able to reach the alley. Anticipation bubbling, she crept back to the door and pressed her ear to the wood. Holding her breath, she listened for signs of Maxwell’s son or one of his ruffians standing guard. The past six days of being dragged from Nevada to Colorado by the three heathens had been a living hell. It had taken months to squirrel away enough money for that train ticket to California, only to be pulled off the train in Lake’s Crossing.
I should have married an English lord when I had the chance. The gruesome matchmaking efforts of Miss Abigail’s Academy for Young Ladies had been a paradise compared to the rambling life she’d endured over the last five years. She’d been singing in saloons for so long, using so many stage names, she hardly recognized her own. California held the promise of a new start, and a life which included her sister.
Rachell sucked in a quivering breath. “Lord, give me strength.”
The whispered words no sooner left her lips than a man’s hand clamped over her mouth. Her startled gasp was trapped behind the warm, calloused palm. The man’s other arm banded her waist and lifted her bare feet off the floor. He silently backed toward the open window—the window he must have just come in through.
She tried to jab her elbows into his sides, but his firm hold prevented even the slightest movement.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered against her ear. “I’m here to help you.”
Don’t be afraid? The man had just crept up on her like a warm fog. The heat of his body easily penetrated the thin bed sheet.
His grip on her waist shifted, spinning her around while he kept one hand over her mouth.
Hard silver eyes locked with hers. Fear shivered through Rachell as she looked at the man towering over her. Dark stubble shadowed his strong jaw.
“You are Rachell Carlson, aren’t you?” His eyes narrowed with growing skepticism.
His hand still latched over her mouth, she did her best to nod.
“I’m going to release you, but I’m warning you, if you scream, we’ll both likely end up with a bullet in our bellies.”
His fingers eased away from her lips.
“I’m Rachell Carlson,” she wheezed, her lungs straining for a full breath.
“Uh-huh,” he said, the deep rumble of his voice barely above a whisper. “Then you’ll know who sent me here to fetch you.”
“My sister.”
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Elizabeth.”
“Last name?”
“Coleburn,” she replied without hesitation.
The stranger cursed under his breath, filling her nose with an unexpected sweet scent. Apples. Before she could question his response, he took a step back and jerked the sheet away from her body with one swift tug. “Let’s get…holy…”
Rachell lunged forward and yanked the linen from his grasp. “They took my clothes,” she choked out, quickly covering herself.
“I see that.” He stared at the bed linen as though trying to penetrate the white barrier.
Rachell assured herself the dim lighting of the bedroom had concealed her brief nudity, but when he continued to stand there, stiff as a board, her skin began to sizzle with embarrassment. Spiteful women were always quick to comment on her scrawny frame. “Mr., um?”
“Jed.”
The single spoken syllable fell from his lips with the weight of a boulder. His eyes moved slowly up to her face. Another shudder claimed her body. She didn’t know if it was the lamplight reflected in the pale shade of gray or the intensity of his gaze, but his eyes held her captive, preventing her from even drawing breath. She lowered her gaze and another chill seized her spine.
The man could have been a shadow, a very large and masculine shadow. His shoulder-length hair was as black as the hat pulled low on his brow and the clothes clinging to his muscular frame. Only his piercing eyes and knee-high moccasins contrasted with his dark appearance. Every hard line of his body spoke of danger.
“Mr. Jed, what are—”
“It’s just Jed. Which one of the jackals downstairs put all those bruises on you?”
“Stewart Sumner,” she said, cinching her sheet a bit tighter. Stewart had more on his mind than taking her dress tonight. Thank goodness she’d convinced him she wasn’t worth the trouble. “He tried to…h-he tried…”
Jed Doulan felt an odd tug in his chest as he watched the petite woman tremble while tripping over her words. His body tensed, stifling an urge to pull the young auburn-haired beauty into a comforting embrace.
“I understand,” he cut in.
He’d seen the filthy lecher carrying a pile of scarlet silks and ruffles out of this room when he entered the saloon. He’d heard Sumner’s lewd comments when he’d joined his cronies at a poker table. Judging by the four bloody scratch marks on Sumner’s left cheek, she’d put up quite a fight during the removal of her dress. But, hell, he hadn’t expected her to be buck naked. Damn if he hadn’t seen a boot-print on her slender hip.
Anger lashed through him. No woman deserved such treatment. Jed’s gaze returned to her large green eyes. Relief had replaced the fear he’d first seen in them.
Jed felt no such relief. The nagging tension in his back told him he had just stepped into a hornet’s nest of trouble, and this was the first of many stings to come. At first glance, he would have sworn he’d tracked down the wrong red-haired woman. This little temptress certainly didn’t look to be the widowed boardinghouse keeper he’d come to retrieve.
Buck’s wife was a short redhead in her early forties and had said her sister was younger, but this woman didn’t look a day over twenty.
“How old are you?” he demanded.
Emerald eyes widened. “Pardon?”
“Your age,” he demanded in a low tone. “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna haul the wrong woman clear to California.”
Her posture stiffened. “I’m twenty-three.”
“And what was the name of that boardinghouse you told your sister you ran in Kansas?” He and Buck had peeked inside the carpetbag they’d found on the train. Only one type of boardinghouse had a hostess who wore such scanty red dresses.
Her eyes narrowed until they were slits of green.
Lord save me, she’s gonna be a feisty one.
“I am Elizabeth Coleburn’s sister!” she all but shouted.
“Lower your voice, you fire-haired imp, unless you plan on walking out of here alone.”
Her expression instantly clouded with worry. She tightened her hold on the sheet and took a step toward the window.
She was in a tangle, all right. Clear up to her pretty green eyes. He aimed to find out why. Again, his gaze inadvertently moved across the white linen.
Hell’s fire. The impression of her smooth rosy skin had been burned into his mind. He’d never seen a woman blush clear to her toes. Damn if it hadn’t been a beautiful sight.
“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he assured her. “But you’ll have to do exactly as I say. For starters, tie that blasted sheet around you so it won’t be falling off.”
She did as he said, tying it tightly around the gentle swell of her chest. “Mr. Jed—”
She reared back, clutching the linen as he stepped forward. Jed stopped. “My name is Jed, and I won’t harm you, Rachell.”
“You believe me then?”
Aside from being too young and too damn attractive, she’d given him the one answer that mattered. She was Buck’s sister-in-law. As such, he’d do anything necessary to protect her.
Damnation, but he had thought his days of bloodshed were over. “Yes, I believe you. The man downstairs with the cat scratches, he’s the one who’s after you?”
She shook her head.
Why wasn’t he surprised? “Who’s after you?”
