CRITICS ARE RAVING ABOUT LEIGH GREENWOOD!
“Leigh Greenwood continues to be a shining star of the genre!”
—The Literary Times
“Leigh Greenwood remains one of the forces to be reckoned with in the Americana romance sub-genre.”
—Affaire de Coeur
“Greenwood’s books are bound to become classics.”
—Rendezvous
“Leigh Greenwood NEVER disappoints. The characters are finely drawn . . . always, always, a guaranteed good read!”
—Heartland Critiques
THE MAVERICKS
“Fans of Greenwood’s Cowboys series will be delighted with this latest installment. He delivers an action-packed story filled with tender moments.”
—Fresh Fiction
THE RELUCTANT BRIDE
“Leigh Greenwood always provides one of the year’s best Western romances, but his latest tale may be the best in an illustrious career. . . . Once again Mr. Greenwood will have one of the sub-genre top guns of 2005.”
—Harriet Klausner
THE INDEPENDENT BRIDE
“Leigh Greenwood unfolds his Westerns like an artist. . . . Like his other books, The Independent Bride should be placed among the Western classics.”
—Rendezvous
BORN TO LOVE
“The characters are complex and add a rich element to this Western romance.”
—Romantic Times
RAVES FOR THE COWBOYS SERIES!
JAKE
“Only a master craftsman can create so many strong characters and keep them completely individualized.”
—Rendezvous
WARD
“Few authors write with the fervor of Leigh Greenwood. Once again [Greenwood] has created a tale well worth opening again and again!”
—Heartland Critiques
BUCK
“Buck is a wonderful Americana Romance!”
—Affaire de Coeur
CHET
“Chet has it all! Romance and rustlers, gunfighters and greed . . . romance doesn’t get any better than this!”
—The Literary Times
SEAN
“This book rivals the best this author has written so far. . . . Western romance at its finest!”
—The Literary Times
PETE
“Pete is another stroke on Leigh Greenwood’s colorful canvas of the Old West. The plotting is brilliant and the conflict strong.”
—Rendezvous
DREW
“Sexual tension and endless conflict make for a fast-paced adventure readers will long remember.”
—Rendezvous
LUKE
“Another winner by Leigh Greenwood!”
—Romantic Times
MATT
“The Cowboys are keepers, from the first book to the last!”
—The Literary Times
LOSING CONTROL
“I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.” Damn! That was the last thing he should have said. Why was he losing control now?
“Then will you kiss me?”
The logical and safe answer was to go to bed and refuse even to talk about it any longer. Her father wouldn’t like it if he knew. His uncle and cousin would run him out of Boston, and Lonnie would shoot him. He would be leaving before long, so a sensible person wouldn’t do anything to cause trouble.
But he was tired of being sensible, of following the rules, and getting nowhere. He wanted to kiss her. He’d been thinking about it almost from the time he first saw her.
Other books by Leigh Greenwood:
THE RELUCTANT BRIDE
THE INDEPENDENT BRIDE
COLORADO BRIDE
REBEL ENCHANTRESS
SCARLET SUNSET, SILVER NIGHTS
THE CAPTAIN’S CARESS
ARIZONA EMBRACE
SEDUCTIVE WAGER
SWEET TEMPTATION
WICKED WYOMING NIGHTS
WYOMING WILDFIRE
The Night Riders series:
TEXAS HOMECOMING
TEXAS BRIDE
BORN TO LOVE
The Cowboys series:
THE MAVERICKS
JAKE
WARD
BUCK
DREW
SEAN
CHET
MATT
PETE
LUKE
The Seven Brides series:
ROSE
FERN
IRIS
LAUREL
DAISY
VIOLET
LILY
A Texan’s Honor
LEIGH GREENWOOD
DORCHESTER PUBLISHING
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
Copyright © 2006 by Leigh Greenwood
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Trade ISBN: 978-1-4285-1711-0
E-book ISBN: 978-1-4285-0447-9
First Dorchester Publishing, Co., Inc. edition: July 2006
The “DP” logo is the property of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Visit us online at www.dorchesterpub.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
FAMILY GENEALOGY
Jake Maxwell m. Isabelle Davenport 1866
Eden Maxwell b. 1868
Ward Dillon m. Marina Scott 1861
Tanner b. 1862
Mason b. 1869
Lee b. 1872
Conway b. 1874
Webb b. 1875
Buck Hobson (Maxwell) m. Hannah Grossek 1872
Wesley b. 1874
Elsa b. 1877
Drew Townsend m. Cole Benton 1874
Celeste b. 1879
Christine b. 1881
Clair b. 1884
Sean O'Ryan m. Pearl Belladonna (Agnes Satterwaite) 1876
Elise b. 1866 (Pearl’s daughter by previous marriage)
Kevin b. 1877
Flint b. 1878
Jason b. 1880
Chet Attmore (Maxwell) m. Melody Jordan 1880
Jake Maxwell II (Max) b. 1882
Nick b. 1884
Bret Nolan m. Emily Abercrombie 1881
Sam b. 1882
Joseph b. 1884
Elizabeth b. 1885
Matt Haskins m. Ellen Donovan
1883
Toby b. 1868 (adopted)
Hank Hollender b. 1870 (adopted)
Orin b. 1872 (adopted)
Noah b. 1878 (adopted)
Tess b. 1881 (adopted)
Matthew b. 1885
Brodie b. 1886
Pete Jernigan m. Anne Thompson 1886
Mary Anne b. 1888
Kane b. 1889
Kent b. 1889
Will Haskins m. Idalou Ellsworth 1886
Luke Attmore m. Valeria Badenburg 1887
Lucas b. 1888
Valentine b. 1889
Hawk Maxwell m. Suzette Chatingy 1888
Zeke Maxwell m. Josie Morgan 1888
A Texan’s Honor
Chapter One
Boston, 1881
Bret Nolan approached his uncle Silas Abbott’s office with barely concealed anticipation, a smile threatening to banish his habitual frown. He was certain he was being called in for the long-promised but often postponed meeting about the changes Bret had proposed for the company.
He had worked in his mother’s family’s shipping company, Abbott & Abercrombie, ever since leaving Texas six years ago. During that time he’d carefully studied the inner workings of the transportation industry as the last of the great clipper ships gave way to steam power. He had spent more than a year developing a detailed plan of changes the company needed to make to remain competitive into the twentieth century.
He was doubly excited because the changes would mean bigger roles for him and for his cousin Rupert, who supported him. He wished Rupert were here today, but he was in Providence, Rhode Island, inventorying the contents of Abbott & Abercrombie’s warehouses. It was the kind of job that reminded the two men they were poor relations.
“Your uncle said you were to go right in,” Silas Abbott’s secretary said with a broad smile when Bret entered her office. “He’s anxious to see you.”
Bret’s steps grew lighter. His uncle was never anxious to see him. In fact, seeing Bret usually gave him gas. He must have grasped the value of Bret’s plan. Finally, he would begin to see his nephew as a valued member of the company, not merely the son of a disinherited sister and her rabble-rousing husband who was thoughtless enough to get himself killed in circumstances that brought unwelcome publicity to the family.
Bret knocked on the door of his uncle’s office. The words Come in sounded so welcoming, he smiled.
“You wanted to see me, sir.”
“Come in and have a seat,” his uncle said.
Silas was in such a sunny mood, Bret began to feel uneasy. He felt certain his recommendations were sound, but he’d expected his uncle to argue every point. Silas Abbott liked to think all good ideas were his own. When they weren’t, he’d talk in circles, making and discarding suggestions, until he arrived back at the starting point, convinced he had come up with the solution himself.
“How have you been keeping yourself?” Silas asked. “We haven’t had a chance to see much of each other lately.”
Bret grew even more apprehensive. His uncle never wanted anything to do with him, had only hired him because Bret’s grandmother had insisted he give Bret a job. Uncle Silas paid Bret barely enough to live on, a measure of his displeasure at having his hand forced.
“I have nothing to complain about,” Bret lied. “Working ten hours a day six days a week doesn’t leave much time for me to find trouble . . . or it to find me.” He could tell from the twitch of his uncle’s eyebrows that the remark had angered him, but Bret was tired of seeing his uncle and his son, Joseph, leave the office while he and Rupert still had several hours of work to do. Even the regular staff went home before they did.
“Honest work never hurt anyone,” his uncle said. “It’s how you get ahead.”
But Bret hadn’t gotten ahead. Everybody in the office knew he and Rupert could work circles around Joseph, yet Joseph continued to get promoted, with commensurate raises in salary, while Rupert remained a glorified errand boy and Bret an equally exalted clerk. Bret had tried very hard to control the bitterness that burned in his stomach like an acid, but it had become increasingly difficult in the face of Joseph’s unwarranted promotions.
“I don’t mind. I like the work.” Okay, he was lying, but telling the truth wouldn’t get him anywhere. This was his chance for a real future. It was worth a little white lie.
“Shepherd tells me you’ve done a very good job,” his uncle said. “In fact, he can’t seem to stop talking about you.”
Unlike Silas, Shepherd wasn’t one to withhold praise where it was due.
“I’m glad he thinks I’ve been helpful.”
When he first came from Texas, Bret had had difficulty making meaningless conversation. There was no such thing in the Maxwell household where he’d been raised. Jake was brusque, Isabelle direct, and the other orphans were just waiting for a chance to put somebody down. As long as what they said was fair, Jake and Isabelle let them say pretty much what they thought. They believed all the boys had a right to be heard, that their feelings should be respected as far as possible, and that treatment should be fair. But most of all, they’d loved every one of their eleven adopted kids. The orphans had worked hard, played hard, and occasionally fought hard, but each was a loved and valued part of the family. They knew they belonged.
Bret hadn’t expected his mother’s family to feel the same way about him, but reality had been a brutal shock. His father’s sister had welcomed him back, but she was involved in her causes and was seldom around. Only his grandmother’s attention enabled him to keep his tongue between his teeth. She had encouraged him to be patient, said that his hard work and intelligence would pay off someday. Today, he hoped was that day.
“I called you in because I have a very special assignment for you,” his uncle said.
“I was hoping we could discuss the suggestions I gave you. It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to—”
“I’m still studying them.” Silas tried unsuccessfully to hide his irritation at Bret’s interruption.
“I doubt you’re aware of it,” his uncle went on, “but Ezra Abercrombie had a brother who went West. Samuel was something of an embarrassment to the family, so Ezra was relieved to be rid of him. But apparently their father had a change of heart before he died.”
Amos Abercrombie, the ninety-three-year-old only son of one of the founders of Abbott & Abercrombie, had died the previous year and had been buried with all the pomp and recognition the city fathers of Boston could give him.
“It came as quite a surprise to Ezra to learn his father had left a quarter interest in the firm to Samuel in his will.”
Bret could see how that would upset his uncle, but he didn’t see what it could have to do with him. The Abercrombies were a proud family who didn’t waste time on poor relations. He doubted they’d let him in the door.
“It seems the old renegade has managed to make a fortune in cows somewhere in that godforsaken state of Texas,” Silas grumbled. “You ought to know all about that sort of thing.”
Bret did know all about that sort of thing, and his family never let him forget it. Whenever one of them made any slur about the South or the West, they always turned to him as though he’d been personally responsible for the Civil War as well as anyone wanting to settle west of the Mississippi River. The fact that he would not back down in his admiration for Jake and Isabelle was held to be proof that he was not yet rehabilitated.
“How does that affect me?” Bret asked.
“You can keep twenty-five percent of our company stock from ending up in the hands of some ignorant cowpoke.”
Bret had to force down a spurt of anger before he could reply. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Samuel is dying. He wants this daughter—his only child—to move to Boston. The only problem is the old turncoat has given the girl such a poor image of the Abercrombies, she refuses to budge. The only person she remembers favorably is Joseph, so Samuel wants us to take her in. I want you to bring her to Boston be
fore she gets any foolish ideas about marrying a cowpoke.”
Bret wasn’t the least bit flattered by this very special assignment. His uncle had chosen him to go to Texas because he thought everybody else was too good to be subjected to the rigors of entering a state he was convinced was populated almost entirely by thieves and murderers.
“It’s your job to make sure she gets here in an unmarried state. Until she’s safely settled in Boston, it’s your only job.”
“I can’t force her against her will.”
“Who said anything about forcing her?” his uncle asked. “You lived among those people for years. You understand them. If you want me to believe you’re smart enough to figure out a better way to run my business, you can begin by delivering that girl without a husband in tow.”
“Sons and daughters of those people don’t always do what their parents want.”
“That would serve Samuel right,” Silas said with a nasty smile. “He never did what anybody wanted, but we can’t afford to let those shares go out of the family. You get her here, and I’ll find somebody to marry her.”
“Who?” She might be heir to a quarter of the company, but Bret couldn’t see one of the Abbotts or Abercrombies marrying anybody who hadn’t been born into Boston society.
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