Wildfire in His Arms

by Johanna Lindsey

  “A position that is now mine.”

  Carl actually chuckled. “Let’s face it, Mr. Grant, this town is too peaceful for a man of your talents. And we both know you aren’t going to take up chicken farming.”

  Degan laughed to himself. “No, I’m not.”

  “I don’t just want the Dawson land, I still want Max. Maybe I haven’t made that clear, Mr. Grant. I need someone with her courage and spirit in my family. Damn, the gal survived almost two years in the wild on her own. Max can give me the kind of sons who will carry on my legacy.”

  Degan forced himself not to reach for his gun. “You have a son, don’t you? What happened to him?”

  “The damn fool left. Said he didn’t want to be pinned down here, said I was asking too much of him.” Carl waved a hand in frustration. “I’m prepared to pay you any amount you name to sign these divorce papers I’ve had prepared—”

  Degan stood. “Max isn’t for sale. If you ever suggest again that she is, or if you ever go near her again, you’ll not only see how fast I can draw a gun, you’ll feel it.”

  His face red with anger, Carl stood, too. “Then what are your intentions?”

  “I have a proposal for you.” Degan handed Carl a piece of paper on which he’d written the price he thought Ella should ask for her farm.

  Carl looked down at the paper. “Are you crazy?”

  “That includes compensation for Max for your robbing her of two years of her life and endangering her with those phony wanted posters you sent out.”

  Still fuming, Carl said, “If I agree to this, you’ll get the hell out of my town and never come back?”

  “I plan to take Max out of town for a while. Other than that, I have no intentions that would concern you.”

  “I hope you’re taking your womenfolk with you—all of them.”

  “There are only two.”

  “I believe he was including me in the number,” Allison Montgomery said peevishly from behind Degan. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here.”

  Degan closed his eyes. Not again . . .

  Chapter Fifty

  “AREN’T YOU TIRED, BABY girl, after traveling all day to get here?”

  Max didn’t turn as her grandmother came up beside her at the end of the porch. Max wouldn’t take her eyes off the path from town by which Degan would be returning. And dusk had fallen. He’d already been gone longer than she figured he would.

  “Tired, yeah, but there’s no way I’ll sleep until we know what happened with the mayor. Degan went there without any options to lay on the table. He can make threats and that might be enough to work while he’s here. But once he leaves, Carl could go right back to scheming.”

  “Unless he gets what he wants.”

  She glanced at her grandmother sharply. “That’s not an option. Carl doesn’t get to win, not after everything he put us—me through.”

  Ella put an arm around her waist. “Will you leave when your husband does?”

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Because of Carl, there’s a time stamp on my marriage, at least for another year.”

  “Because of Carl, you met your husband.”

  Max started, hearing that. She supposed it was true. But then she sighed. “I’m not so sure that can be considered a favor, Gran.”

  “Nonsense,” Ella scoffed. “You’ve already admitted you desire Degan, and that’s a special thing, you know. It’s what tells you a man is right for you. It’s what tells you love might be growing.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, not always, but most of the time it does. You could want a man you don’t like, but that just opens up a nasty can of worms, so it’s better to hope that doesn’t happen. But you like this fella?”

  “Yeah. I always feel like laughing when I’m around him. And it drives me up-a-wall crazy how much I want him. And I get scared for him, really scared, when he’s facing danger, like he’s family, like—”

  “You love him.”

  That tight knot swelled in Max’s chest again. “I hope not, Gran, ’cause it’s not that nice a feeling.”

  Ella chuckled. “If it’s not returned, yes, it can be awful. But if it is returned, it can be the most wonderful thing in the world. So be sure about it, honey, before you let him go.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to have much choice in the matter. I can’t imagine a man like Degan settling down in one place, and he isn’t going to want me tagging along as his sidekick indefinitely. I’m like a job to him, and when he finishes a job, he moves on.”

  “How does he feel about you?”

  Max rolled her eyes. “Funny you should ask. Degan’s a closed book that might as well have a lock on it. No one ever gets to read those pages, myself included.”

  Ella kissed Max’s cheek. “I’m going to make a fresh pot of coffee. If your man doesn’t return soon, we’ll need it.”

  “I think I’m going to go find out what’s taking Degan so long.”

  “Then take Johnny with you. I don’t want you getting near Carl Bingham alone.”

  Max nodded and went to her bedroom to strap her gun belt on over her dress, then grabbed her rifle, too, for good measure. Johnny was waiting for her at the front door. He laughed when she handed him her rifle.

  “Feels like old times, Max,” he teased.

  “Let’s hope not. I just want to make sure Carl hasn’t thrown Degan in jail.”

  * * *

  “How the hell did you know I was coming here?”

  It had taken Degan a moment to absorb the shock of seeing Allison in Bingham Hills and apparently a guest of the mayor’s. Carl didn’t bother to correct her statement that she was no longer welcome, he just cleared his throat and hurried out of the room. Leaving them alone in it.

  “The private guards I hired are good,” Allison said as she moved closer to him. “Though one might be a little overzealous since he fancies himself in love with me.” Degan merely stared at her without comment, which apparently disappointed her enough for her to explain, “If you must know, he foolishly thought that shooting at you in Helena might chase you home to Chicago as I wanted. I was furious with him, of course. He might have hit me that day!”

  “Or was it your idea?”

  “Don’t be absurd. I still love you, darling. I would never hurt you.”

  “It’s too bad you didn’t always feel that way.” He ignored her blush. “Just get to the part about how you managed to get to this town before I arrived.”

  “Well, while one of my guards stayed with me as protection, Miles, to make amends for that Helena fiasco, promised to track you—at a safe distance, of course. He followed you to Dakota, where he lost you, but he picked up your trail when you returned to Butte. I was back in Chicago when I got the telegram from Miles stating that you were bringing an outlaw home to Bingham Hills. I was able to catch the train to Fort Worth and arrive a few days before you. Though I wish you had gotten here first. Waiting here, even for just two days, has been deplorable.”

  “And how did you get invited to the mayor’s home?”

  “Without trying. He was agog that someone of my stature would visit his small town. They only have one hotel here, you know, if it can even be called that. So I wasn’t adverse to accepting his hospitality for my short stay when he offered it.”

  “Have you really worn out your welcome?”

  She shrugged. “I might have complained a little.” At his raised brow, she added, “Very well, a lot, but you can’t believe how boring this town is, and that pompous old man was determined to impress me, as if anything here could.”

  “So the mayor knew I was coming before I got here?”

  “You, just not you.” Then she laughed, realizing how odd that sounded. “I was amazed how easy it was to have you followed. People don’t only notice when you enter a town, Miles told me they notice when you leave it, and in which direction you’re headed. They’re happy to share that information. Apparently, you are quite infamous—except down here in
Texas. I did give Mayor Bingham your name when I told him I was here to meet a friend, but he didn’t recognize it and I didn’t feel inclined to enlighten him. I just didn’t know he was waiting for your prisoner until I heard him speaking with the sheriff earlier today.”

  “She isn’t my prisoner, she’s my wife.”

  Allison’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You married her? How could you marry someone like her? I didn’t believe it when Miles told me there was talk that you got married in Butte!”

  “Go home, Allison, and start a new life,” Degan said before walking away.

  He left the house, but Allison followed close on his heels. “Degan, please, I can’t live without you anymore. You belong in Chicago—with me.”

  He didn’t stop. “No, I don’t.”

  “But we were so good together. You know we were. And we can be again.” She rushed in front of him so he would stop. “You have to come home!”

  “You can’t believe I’m still in love with you. What’s your real motive, Alli, for tracking me down like this?”

  Several emotions crossed her face, frustration, regret, even anger, but then she sighed. “Our families have always had ties, and the scandal has touched us all.”

  “That can’t still be a topic of gossip, that we didn’t marry.”

  “Not that. It’s your father. I tried to tell you but you refused to listen. He’s become a laughingstock. He hasn’t left the house sober in years, yet he thinks he can still go on as before. It’s cost him his business, clients, even property that he failed to make payments on because he was too drunk to remember that payments were due.”

  “He has Flint.”

  “Flint did try to take over for him. I’ll give him that. He made the effort and tried to fill your shoes. But he has no head for business, as you well know. All he did was make it worse, and now he’s also become a pathetic drunkard. Two peas out of the same pod, those two. And all because you turned your back on your family.”

  “How do I get blamed for this when you’re the reason I left?”

  “That’s just it, you didn’t have to leave. It devastated your father. You were his pride and joy. You were his legacy. With you gone, he stopped caring about anything important, and now his empire is falling into ruin. Only you can fix this, Degan. Now do you see why you have to come home?”

  Degan believed she was exaggerating. She’d always been melodramatic. “As I said before, I cut my family ties permanently, including my ties to you. No more pathetic attempts to rekindle a dead love, Alli. You made your choice when you—”

  Allison exploded, “I tried to reason with you! I tried to persuade you nicely. But obviously the only thing you understand these days is guns!”

  She took a derringer out of her dress pocket and pointed it at him. She looked furious enough to use it.

  “And what do you intend to do with that one?”

  Two shots were fired. Glass shattered. Allison screamed and dropped her gun while Degan drew his. She was staring in shock at the side of the house. Still facing down the hill, Degan saw Max running up it with her gun drawn and smoking, her brother right behind her. He swung around to see whom Max had shot, afraid it was Carl Bingham. But the man rolling on the ground clutching his hand in pain was young. A Colt had already fallen from his bloody hand, likely the cause of the second shot.

  “He was aiming at your back!” Max said as she reached Degan. “And what the hell is she doing here? Trying to kill you now?”

  “God, no!” Allison swore, horrified.

  But that’s when Carl came out on his porch, drawn by the gunfire, to demand, “What’s going on? Who shot my window?”

  But when he noticed Max next to Degan, his bluster turned into a big smile. Grady, having followed Carl outside, put his hand on Carl’s shoulder and cautioned him, “Careful, she probably came here to shoot you again.”

  They all heard that, but the second Max saw Carl, she couldn’t control her fury. Waving her gun at Allison and the wounded man, she shouted at her nemesis, “You’ve been wanting a hanging for two years, Carl Bingham! Now you can have two!”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  CARL WALKED DOWN THE porch steps and headed for Max. “I want someone to tell me what all this shooting is about and I want to talk to you, Max.”

  Degan hadn’t put his gun away yet. “I told you, Mayor, I would shoot you if you ever went near her again. Want me to prove that?”

  Carl’s face contorted in anger but he stopped. Still, he directed his words at Max. “Who did you shoot this time?”

  Grady had gone over to the wounded man and helped him to his feet. Max saw that he was big and young, dressed like a city slicker in a suit and string tie. “Him!” she spat out, pointing at the man. “He was about to shoot Degan.”

  “Miles, how could you?” Allison cried, looking angry now. “How dare you shoot my friend?”

  “I saw you pull the derringer on him. I was just defending you. He would have drawn his gun on you. You don’t need him, Allison.” Miles tried to pull free of Grady’s grip and get closer to her, but Grady held him back. “He’s a no-good gunslinger! I can take care of you. I love you!”

  “No,” Allison shook her head. Sobbing, she stepped closer to Degan and almost collapsed, but Degan caught her.

  “What’s going on?” Johnny asked Max.

  Max couldn’t tell him because she didn’t know, but she felt a sharp pang of jealousy as she watched Degan talking softly to the distraught woman in his arms.

  Carl’s servants had come out on the porch and were asking him if there was anything they could do. As Grady led Miles away, Max heard Grady say to Carl, “Looks like his bullet went astray and hit one of your windows.”

  “Put him in jail for now,” Carl ordered. “We’ll figure out later when to kick him out of town.”

  With his arm still around Allison, Degan walked over to Carl. “You better take your guest inside.”

  “She’s not staying here,” Carl protested. “She was about to shoot you.”

  “Yes, she is, and, no, she wasn’t. She was just trying to scare me.”

  Max saw Carl raise an eyebrow skeptically. Even Grady must have heard that because he turned his head and rolled his eyes.

  “I’m not pressing charges against her and her guard,” Degan continued. “She’s agreed to take the first stage out of town tomorrow. See that she gets on it.”

  Carl grumbled, “You bet I will. I should have known she’d be trouble.” He gingerly took Allison’s arm, but his gaze strayed to Max.

  Degan must not have liked the yearning look in Carl’s eyes any more than she did because he said, “That’s the last look you’re ever getting at Max Dawson, Bingham.”

  Carl glared at Degan and took Allison back to the house.

  Degan turned to Max and Johnny and said, “Let’s go.”

  Max was glad to hear him say those words.

  Johnny quickly rode back to the farm ahead of them to keep their grandmother from worrying. Degan insisted that Max mount up with him on the palomino, which she did, but at least she was the one holding Noble’s reins this time.

  “You seem to be making a habit out of saving my life,” he remarked quietly.

  “I thought Carl, not your lady friend and her guard, would try to get rid of you.”

  “So that’s why you came to Carl’s?”

  “You were taking too long.”

  “Because I didn’t expect Allison to be there. She figured out where I was going before we got here. Bingham offered her his hospitality, but he was quick to regret it. Apparently Alli can be quite a snob when she’s out of her natural environment.”

  “You didn’t know that about her?”

  “That she’s not adaptable or the least bit tolerant? No, I didn’t.”

  “And smells like roses?”

  He actually frowned a little. “It was her favorite scent, but why—?”

  “You dreamed about roses, remember? And apparently of her.�
��

  He leaned closer and she felt his breath against her ear. “You sound jealous.”

  She snorted. “Of that bloodhound?”

  “A good comparison. But if you’re interested, she’s my ex-fiancée. If I dreamed of her during that feverish delirium in Dakota, it was a nightmare. That’s all she is to me now, a nightmare that I wish would go away.”

  Max was amazed that he’d finally got around to mentioning his previous relationship to that woman, but her curiosity was still going through the roof. “Did she end it between you two, or did you?”

  “She did—when I walked in on her being unfaithful before the wedding.”

  She winced for him, offering the lame rejoinder, “Better before than after.”

  “That’s one way to look at it.”

  She tried to sound blasé when she asked, “So you don’t have any feelings left for her?”

  He raised a brow. “Now you think I can feel?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant. And you can’t convince me you were always made of stone. I think we’ve already established that your lack of feelings is job related. So do you still have feelings for her?”

  “Other than disgust and the occasional spark of leftover anger, no. In fact, if she’s not in the same town, she ceases to exist, that’s how rarely I think of her anymore.”

  That definitely said a lot. Max had to fight not to smile quite happily, aware that he wouldn’t appreciate it with the woman’s still being such a bad memory for him.

  “Allison foolishly pulled that gun on me because she’s desperate to get me back to Chicago for some reason. She suspected her guard had become infatuated with her, but she was as surprised as I was when he took a shot at me.”

  Max wondered if that was true, but she just said, “You have no idea why she’s hell-bent on getting you back to Chicago?”

  “No, but you’ve nagged me enough to—”

  “I don’t nag,” she sputtered. “I suggest. Big difference, fancy man.”

  “Very well, you suggest. But in either case, I had already decided to take you for a visit to Chicago when we were done here—to get you a new wardrobe.”