by Alison Kent
He didn’t look up, but kept talking to Goliath, petting his neck, as if he didn’t know she was there.
No! She heard the word echo in her brain. But it didn’t make it past her lips. Sam and the horse blurred.
She told herself this was only about nerves and lack of sleep, and tried to take a step toward him, but her feet felt too heavy to move. She had to stop this from happening. “Sam!”
He glanced at her, and she breathed with relief. He’d heard her. Thank God, he’d heard her. She was tired and overwrought, that’s all. Once Barnett left, everything would be all right.
But then Sam walked briskly toward the front of the livery. She pushed away from the pole, and saw a boy, maybe fourteen, fifteen, run past the stables, hollering for Doc.
She hurried out to the street, where Sam stood.
The frantic boy pounded on Doc’s door, yelling for him.
“He’s not there,” Sam called out. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s my little sister. Pa pulled her out of the creek but she’s not breathing.” The boy, red-faced, with fists clenched, jumped off Doc’s porch. “I gotta find him.”
“I can help,” Reese said. “How far away is she?”
Sam looked at her uncertainly. “She’s a doctor,” he told the boy, his gaze still on Reese. “You have a horse?”
“Rode him too hard.” The boy’s voice broke. “He’s lame.”
Reese prayed it wasn’t too late. “Timing is important.”
Sam hurried back into the livery and in seconds returned with Goliath. “Take him. He’s ready and he’s fast.”
Her heart nearly exploded. “Sam—”
“Save the girl,” he said, and gave her a swift kiss on the mouth.
The boy didn’t hesitate. He swung onto Goliath, and Sam helped Reese up. She didn’t have time to argue. Every second counted. She barely had time to slide her arms around the boy’s thin waist before he kicked Goliath into a canter. The canter turned to a gallop as they raced down Main Street, heedless of pedestrians yelling curses in their wake. They’d nearly made it out of town when she heard someone yell “Horse thief!”
She knew who would be blamed. Sam owned the livery. He was responsible for Goliath. But if she turned around now, she’d likely be issuing an innocent girl her death warrant. Reese closed her eyes and prayed as she never had before.
JANE SPUTTERED, coughed, her little body jerking as she opened her big blue eyes. She blinked at Reese and coughed again.
Reese smiled at her. “What’s your name?”
“Jane.”
“Baby…” Seth Johnson nearly knocked Reese over in his haste to get to the girl. “Thought we lost you.” He picked up his daughter and hugged her to his chest.
If Reese had met the big scruffy man in a dark alley, she would’ve had a heart attack. His black shaggy hair and even shaggier beard barely concealed the hideous scar running down his left cheek. The backs of his hands were heavily scarred, too, and he smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in a month. He hadn’t liked it that Reese had shown up instead of Doc, and unfamiliar with the CPR technique, he’d almost backhanded her. His son had stopped him.
She scooted over far enough so that she could get to her feet. She was a bit shaky herself. Until the child sputtered, Reese thought she might have been too late. But the girl hadn’t hesitated in giving her name, which was a good sign that there was no brain damage.
The brother, whose name escaped Reese, stood off to the side, his hands jammed into his pockets. He still looked terrified. But he’d have to snap out of it because Reese didn’t think she remembered the route to town. They were close, less than five minutes away, but she didn’t want to waste any more time.
“I’m going to need your help getting back to town,” she told the boy. “It’s important that I hurry.”
Seth Johnson looked up. “I’m obliged to you, ma’am. Don’t reckon I know what you did, but you saved my girl.”
“She’ll be fine. I promise.” Reese backed toward Goliath. “But I have to get back. This horse doesn’t belong to me.”
Seth’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “Son, you take care of Jane. I’ll git the lady back.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Pa, the sheriff ain’t gonna like it if you go into—”
“Do as I say, boy,” Seth bellowed, and even Reese jumped.
He helped her onto Goliath, and then got his horse. The boy’s comment about the sheriff made her edgy. She didn’t need to bring trouble with her, but decided not to say anything until the town was in sight.
They rode hard and within minutes she could see Deadwood. Seth was slightly ahead of her, kicking up too much dust, and she urged Goliath to speed up until she was abreast of him. She called out, and he turned his fierce frown on her.
“I’m okay, Mr. Johnson. You don’t need to go any farther.”
He shook his head. “Best I see you back. Takin’ a horse that don’t belong to you is a hangin’ offense.”
“But I’m bringing him back.”
He ignored her and kept riding. Although she’d been a good rider once, it had been a while and she had to concentrate on what she was doing in order to handle the powerful gelding. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to have backup. No matter what the differences between Seth Johnson and the sheriff, no one could begrudge her using the horse to help the man’s daughter.
They got to the edge of town opposite Sam’s livery and Reese immediately noticed the commotion. People crowded the center of Main Street. Her heart plummeted. She couldn’t see what was happening, but she knew. God help her, she knew.
Without sparing Mr. Johnson a glance, she dug in her heels and rode Goliath as fast as he would go. The crowd that had gathered outside the jail parted when they saw her bearing down on them. In the middle of everything stood Sam, his hands in the air, the barrel of a gun pressed to his back.
She almost plowed into three women huddled near the boardwalk, but reined in Goliath just in time. “He didn’t steal the horse,” she yelled, hiking her skirt up so she could jump down. The women gasped at the expanse of bare legs visible as she slid off the horse to the ground. “I took Goliath. Let him go.”
The man with a gold star on his chest and holding the gun on Sam glared at her. “It’s the whore. Somebody grab her.”
Sam used his shoulder to block a man who lunged for her. “Get out of here, Reese. Go. Now.”
The sheriff slammed the butt of his gun into the back of Sam’s head. He staggered, but stayed on his feet.
“Stop it. He didn’t do anything.” She surged toward the lawman, but someone grabbed her arm. She tried to jerk away, and saw that it was Seth Johnson.
He let go but got between her and the sheriff, a rifle in one hand, the fingers of his now free hand slightly curled and hovering over a pistol in his holster. “I reckon you best let the lady speak.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Johnson?” The sheriff kept his gun trained on Sam, his fearful black eyes shifting to the left as if checking for backup. He obviously didn’t want to tangle with Seth. “I told you to stay clear of town.”
“Just makin’ sure the lady was safe. She brought the horse back. Don’t see where any harm was done.”
“She’s a runaway whore. Her word don’t mean nothing.”
“The woman saved my daughter’s life.” Johnson’s hand flexed over the butt of the pistol. “Reckon that means somethin’ to me.”
Reese saw Hastings Barnett standing off to the side, his thumbs tucked into his belt, his face creased in an angry frown. “Mr. Barnett, please, no one stole your horse,” she declared. “A little girl was drowning and I needed to get to her quickly. I took Goliath. Sam had nothing to do with it.”
“Shut up,” the sheriff screamed, his face contorted with fury. “Shut up, you stinkin’ no-good whore. Don’t you worry, Mr. Barnett. You’ll get your justice. This man will hang before sundown.”
Mr. Barnett glanced at his pocket watch as if annoyed with the inconveni
ence.
“No.” Reese wasn’t sure if the word had caught in her throat or made it past her lips.
“What’s going on here?” Doc pushed through the crowd, obviously drunk, bouncing from one man to the other.
Reese’s heart sank. Doc had been doing so well, and now that Sam needed him…
“Hell, Sam, what are you doing out here in the middle of the day?” Doc’s unfocused gaze seemed to scan the crowd. His eyes met Reese’s, and he winked, before lurching into the sheriff, who stumbled backward. “Pardon me, Sheriff Ames.”
“You goddamn drunk.” The sheriff shoved Doc, who spun around and used the momentum to take down the lawman.
“Sam.” Reese pleaded with her voice, her eyes, her heart.
He hesitated, and then ran toward her and Goliath.
Another man wearing a badge launched himself at them, and Seth Johnson threw a punch that sent the man slamming back against the railing. Johnson drew his pistol and cocked it. “Anyone else?”
A collective murmur rose from the crowd as they hastily moved back.
Sam climbed on the horse first and then pulled her up behind him. He paused to look at Johnson.
The big man grinned. “Just havin’ me some fun.”
Sam nodded his thanks, wheeled the horse around, and they rode. Behind them Reese heard Johnson strongly suggest that everyone stay right where they were. She held on tight, her cheek pressed against Sam’s back, her heart beating so fast that she thought it might fly out of her chest.
A few minutes later, she twisted around, and already Deadwood was out of sight. Sam took the right fork in the road and they rode another five minutes before he stopped at a dry ravine obscured by a thicket of cottonwood trees.
She stared at him in disbelief. “What are you doing? We can’t stop. The sheriff will catch up to us.”
Sam smiled sadly. “You can’t come with me.”
“What?” Frantically, she looked over her shoulder. At least they were hidden. “We’ll talk later. We have to hurry.”
“I’m a wanted man now, Reese. You were right about what you saw in that book,” he said grimly. “That sheriff obviously aims to hang me. Go back. Tell them I forced you to come with me. Doc will protect you.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
He crooked his arm and motioned with his head. She realized what he wanted her to do, and, her hands shaking, she gripped his arm as she climbed down. He swung off Goliath and tied the horse to a pine sapling before facing her, his fingers painfully gripping her upper arms.
“Reese, listen to me. I have no money. I can’t put a roof over your head. You go back now, and you’ll have a chance.”
She swallowed. “A chance at what?” she asked aloud, but the question was one only she could answer. Could she go back to her comfortable designer life and never, without a stab in her heart, think about him again? “I’m not leaving you, Sam.”
He briefly closed his eyes, shuttering off the raw pain she’d already glimpsed. “You don’t understand how hard life on the run can be.”
“No harder than it will be without you beside me every day,” she said, feeling the truth of that deep in her soul.
“Once you leave, you’ll never be able to go back to the Golden Slipper. Or go home…” He looked pale, shaken. Even when he’d resigned himself to the thought of hanging, he hadn’t looked so deathly afraid. So defeated.
She framed his face with her hands. Understandably, he thought she was being impulsive. But she’d already been put to the test. Earlier, when she’d felt faint, when she’d been terrified that she was going back…that’s when her decision had been made. She knew it now. “I’ve already thought about this,” she said calmly, her gaze fixed on his. “I came here for a reason, Sam. But it wasn’t to change history. This was about us. We belong together. Tell me you don’t feel that way, too.”
His gaze roamed her face. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Stop it, Sam Keegan. I mean it. I won’t have you saying anything bad about the man I love.” At his shocked look, she laughed and threw her arms around his neck.
He hugged her close for a minute, and then looked down at her with such tenderness her heart swelled. “I feel powerfully glad to be alive every time I’m near you,” he said quietly. “I reckon that’s love.”
She laughed and blinked back tears. “I reckon you’re right.”
“I wish it weren’t so, but it’s gonna be a hard life, honey,” he warned, brushing an escaped tear from her cheek. “Doc and me, we can’t let Lamar Watkins fool all these people.”
“I know.” She smiled. “That’s what makes you a good man.”
Epilogue
Four months later
A town fifty miles from Deadwood
REESE’S LAST PATIENT of the day was leaving her office when Doc walked in. He looked good, his eyes a clear blue and his complexion no longer pasty, younger even than when he’d last visited, two months ago. She knew he still struggled every day, but he’d done a remarkable job of staying sober.
“Nathan.” She smiled and rushed to him, holding out her arms. “I’m so glad you made it.”
He hugged her soundly, and she was glad to feel more meat on his bones. “I wouldn’t miss being here today…Doc.” He grinned. “They callin’ you that yet?”
“The women mostly.” She pulled off her apron, plucked the pins from the bun at her nape and finger-combed the unruly waves. She usually wore her hair secured when she saw patients. That wasn’t a problem. Getting used to long skirts and petticoats was the challenge. “Have you seen Sam yet?”
“Haven’t been to the livery. I took the stage this time.”
“Ah.” The stage stopped at the hotel two doors down. “He should be here at any moment. Unless he has cold feet.”
Doc chuckled. “Not Sam. Never thought I’d see the day he’d be making puppy dog eyes at a woman.”
Reese smiled. Like any little girl, for her wedding day, she’d dreamed of the beautiful white gown, all the flowers, a lavish party for friends and family. At one point she’d considered asking Doc to bring the wedding dress from Grandma Lily’s attic. Only the stained sleeves had to be repaired. But Reese wouldn’t risk the possibility that the dress could send her back to a life she no longer thought about or wanted.
She missed Ellie. Her parents, too, though not like she missed her sister. But she couldn’t think about that right now. More than anything Ellie would want her to be happy, and Reese couldn’t imagine herself being any happier than she was with Sam. Amazingly, she also liked being a small town doctor and saving lives that would’ve been lost had it not been for her knowledge of modern medicine.
She pushed back her cuff, checked her watch, and a second later the door opened. Sam had changed to a crisp white shirt and black trousers. She smiled. “Don’t you look nice.”
He made a face and adjusted his string tie. Then he saw Nathan and nodded at him. “Thanks for coming, Doc.”
Doc grinned. “It’s not every day a man gets hitched.”
“That’s a fact.”
Reese laughed. “Don’t sound so grim or I’ll get the wrong idea. Come on, I have a surprise for you.”
Sam frowned, but let her lead him out of the office. Doc followed them down the boardwalk to the huge elm tree behind the smokehouse where she’d agreed to meet Ezra Bean.
New to town, the photographer had stopped by Reese’s office earlier and offered to take their wedding picture. He was an odd little man, young but with old eyes, and she had no idea how he knew about them getting married, but she was delighted with the idea of having a wedding photo to hang in the house Sam was in the process of building them.
As soon as Sam saw the camera and tripod, he froze.
She squeezed his hand and tugged him closer.
Reluctantly, he moved toward the smiling Mr. Bean, who quickly positioned them. Doc stood off to the side, a grin on his face wider than the Mississippi. He’d been a good friend, selling Sam’
s livery for a tidy profit and arranging for her practice here in town. The people had been hesitant to accept a woman doctor, but he’d stepped in and soothed their worries.
They had lucked out when the owner of the local livery had decided to move back to Missouri. Between building their house and boarding horses, Sam was a busy man. With him and Doc, Reese had composed a letter to the newspaper questioning Lamar Watkins’ suitability for territorial governor. They hadn’t heard anything yet, but the election was still a ways off.
Her only regret was not having Ellie here. As if he’d sensed her sudden melancholy, Sam tightened his arm around her and lowered his head.
“I love you,” he whispered, and kissed her at the same time the flash went off.
Still Irresistible
By Dawn Atkins
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
1
AN IRRITATED WHINNY DREW Callie Cummings’s gaze to the barn, where a cowboy was backing a reluctant horse into the corral with a tight grip on its halter.
Callie caught her breath. It was Deck. She would have recognized that butt blindfolded.
Providing she could touch it.
Touch it. An automatic ping of lust passed through her. And why not? What woman with blood in her veins wouldn’t respond to Declan O’Neill and his fabulous behind?
But she wasn’t here to appreciate Deck’s backside. Or his front side, for that matter, which also delivered. She was here to turn her father’s failing dude ranch into a desert spa.