Give Me A Texas Outlaw Bundle with Give Me A Cowboy

by Jodi Thomas, Linda Broday, Phyliss Miranda

  She saw the hurt in his eyes, the wish that there was no truth in the words she spoke now. “It’s only now that I realized that I’m chasing the same fear. I was losing you every day of the four years I’d spent trying not to watch you ride that brindle and, maybe, kill yourself in the trying. If I blame you for keeping us apart, then I have to do the same of myself. Don’t you see, Dally. I’d rather have tonight with you than any other years without you.”

  Her eyes flooded with tears as she searched his face for a sign of understanding, of acceptance. “It’s just that simple. I finally grew up. Wised up.”

  Dally’s gaze seemed to study her, gauging her in some way. “I’d give the ride up forever if I thought you really mean this.”

  Their lips met instantly. Augusta’s arms flew up to wrap themselves around his neck as he crushed her against him. His tongue traced the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth and met its delicious heat with her own. A heady feeling engulfed her, overwhelming Augusta with a need so torrid, she thought she would melt in his arms.

  She moaned against Dally’s lips, shoving her hands into his hair and pulling him closer. As she tasted him deeper, he swept her into his arms, carrying her toward the tent.

  “Make love to me here on the bank,” she whispered, “like we did when we were so happy.”

  “There aren’t any wildflowers or clover.”

  “I don’t care,” she muttered, unbuttoning his shirt as he lowered her to the ground. “We can use this.”

  He stripped off his shirt and spread it like a blanket, worshipping her with his eyes. Augusta sucked in her breath in anticipation of his touch, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her padded costume to unfasten them.

  It was then she noticed the string of rawhide around his neck, the ring that dangled there. Tears rushed to well in her eyes. “You still have it.”

  His smile alone could hold her captive. “I’ve worn it since the day you threw it at me.”

  Dally lifted it from his head and took her left hand. With the gentlest of movements, he slid the ring over her finger and pressed a kiss that fanned his breath over her knuckles. “This is where it belongs. Forever.”

  Augusta laughed with the pure joy of the moment, then kissed him fiercely, wanting to seal the pledge their hearts were making. Suddenly, a fierce impulse to press him closer overwhelmed her. She began to tug the buttons loose from his waistband.

  Without breaking the kiss, Dally started working the clown costume off her shoulders and down her arms. When she realized what he was about, her fingers raced to help him.

  He gently halted her hands. “No, there’s no hurry, love. Let’s take all the time we want. All the time we need.”

  Ever so slowly, Dally peeled away the garments that hindered their closeness, letting them fall one by one to form a blanket against the moist earth.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Augusta whispered in a heated rush. “I’ve waited…wanted you to touch me again for so long.”

  He heard the words from somewhere far away. She was welcoming him back into her heart, into her life, and the forgiveness in her heart gladdened him, brought a sting of tears to his eyes. He pressed his length against her and kissed her ever so gently, the miracle of her love tasting like heaven on his lips.

  Augusta’s hands traced a trail across the expanse of his shoulders, down the flat plain of his abdomen to explore the wanting it took everything he had within him to control. In a move rougher than he intended, Dally covered her mouth with his, his tongue driving between her lips to taste and savor. Augusta moaned, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. He wanted to inhale her, to consume her, to absorb her until there was nothing left of either of them but one all-enveloping flame.

  Dally held her fast, unable to let her go now that she was in his arms. She belonged to him. She had bound herself to him since the first day he met her and he had gladly born those reins of friendship and, ultimately, love.

  Augusta tore his lips from his long enough to demand the one thing she wanted more than anything in this word. “Make love to me again, Dally. I want to know where I belong. To know I’m yours.”

  He nuzzled her neck, scattering kisses along her jaw, tracing his tongue around the lobe of her ear, branding her with a desire all his own.

  She moaned, urging Dally to capture her lips again and kiss her long and hard. His hands explored the silky length of her, along her sides, caressing one nipple until it strained against his thumb. She clung to him, wordlessly begging for more. Dally bent to suckle one hardened peak, then the other, causing her to cry out with need. He slid down the length of her, kissing his way to the hollow of her abdomen, nipping until she whispered his name over and over again.

  As his hot tongue moved over her, Augusta’s flesh felt as if it were set afire. She gripped his shoulders, clinging to him in an effort to ground herself, but her senses swirled unrestrained. She wrapped her legs around his hips to draw him even closer, writhing against him in desire.

  Dally moaned, his hands cupping her hips and lifting her to him, probing the intimate welcome she offered him. Like a moth drawn to the flame, Augusta thrust her hips toward him, gasping when he filled her so completely. Suddenly he held still, and Augusta sensed that he was remembering. Remembering how eager they had been as teens to learn the ways of love. Remembering how well their bodies strove to please and teach each what the other liked. Remembering the wonder of their joining.

  She could endure the wait no longer. Softly, she implored, “Please, darling, I’ve waited so long for you.”

  Before the exquisite torture drove her over the edge, he silenced her with a savage growl of a kiss as he claimed her completely. She swelled around his length and together they began to move in a rhythm never once forgotten but kept sacredly stored away until just this moment, for just them.

  He whispered endearments in her ear, forever imprinting themselves in Augusta’s heart. The tension mounted as she met his driving thrusts. Higher and higher they climbed toward some unfathomable release. “Please,” she entreated against his lips, knowing that he knew exactly what she was asking of him.

  Just as she thought she might scream from the pure pleasure of being in his arms, Dally buried himself deep within her. She began to shudder. The world seemed to shatter as she clung to him, crying out his name.

  Several minutes passed before their ragged breathing subsided. Dally kissed her slowly, reverently, drawing himself up on his elbows to look deeply into her eyes. Alive with light and shadow from the moonlight, his body glimmered. Augusta licked her lips in anticipation of tasting the sated essence of Dally.

  His lips curled into a smile that set her heart to pounding so loudly, she was certain it could be heard by everyone at the Double D encampment. But she didn’t care. Staring back at her from the blue depths of Dally’s eyes was a love so bold, she would never, ever let anything, anyone keep her from his arms again.

  Tears stung her eyes as powerful as the emotion giving voice to the ecstasy she shared with him. “I won’t let anything ever keep us apart, Dally,” she pledged. “I promise.”

  Dally’s fingers traced the tip of her nose, down her jaw, to spread across her abdomen. His gaze followed the trail his hands had made, stopping at each place to lay equal claim. He gently smoothed the old scar where she’d been horned by a billy goat. He drew a figure eight around her navel. His fingertips traced the marks where her belly had been stretched to make room for Maddy.

  Augusta tensed. Dally’s hand jerked away. The one thing, the only thing that might make a liar out of her just had.

  The truth about Maddy just might be the one thing that could break them apart…this time forever.

  Chapter 9

  Reality sank in, turning the passion that had seared his blood only seconds before to ice harder than hailstones. Those were not the injuries from a rodeo wreck but the marks of a woman who had borne a child.

  The thought of her keeping such a secret from
him stabbed a wound so deep within Dally that he couldn’t seem to breathe. He had to move, to get away from her. He needed time to think. Dally rolled over, rose silently and put on his pants, unable to find words to express the betrayal he felt.

  Why hadn’t she told him? Why had she hid the fact from him? Her child was probably traveling with the Garrisons. He knew Gus well enough to know that she would never be far from her flesh and blood. That would certainly explain why she hadn’t wanted him to pay his respects at the hotel. She must have known he would spot a little one that looked like her.

  Dally’s stomach knotted as if someone had punched a fist there. God knew he and Augusta had talked about having kids and what they would name them—Maddy, for her mother, if the first one had been a girl, Flint for his father, if they’d been lucky enough to have a boy. They’d planned to have a herd of them, the more the merrier.

  The thought that some other man had been given that privilege, had spoiled his dream, hurt like nothing else Dally had ever felt. He glanced back at Augusta and noticed she was getting dressed, not saying anything, not looking at him. His attention riveted to her hands. She wore no wedding ring but his.

  The small pleasure that filled him didn’t last long because he didn’t want to know what her lack of another ring really meant. Had she married someone and repeated her pattern by leaving him? Or had she carried the child without the benefit of a ring? Did she still have any feelings for the man? The image of Joey loomed large in Dally’s mind as he recalled how much Augusta had shared her confidence with him.

  “Is that why you refused to give me an answer to my question all these years?” The betrayal finally took voice and he hated that he sounded so pathetically vulnerable.

  Her eyes lifted and focused on Dally, the moonlit blue of their depths awash with a sheen of tears. “I couldn’t agree to marry you when there were things to make right between us. You were bent on riding the bull, and I”—she paused as if she were mustering strength—“I had hidden something from you that might break us apart forever when you learn the truth.”

  Dally wasn’t sure he could listen to anymore. Listening seemed harder than strapping a bellrope around a rank bull with a reputation. She’d been right about what she’d said concerning having to wait. Waiting to hear what she might say now was nothing but pure hell.

  Grab horn, he told himself. If she can find the grit to tell you, then you can find the courage to saddle up and listen.

  “I caused F-Flint’s death,” she sobbed.

  Of all the things he’d expected her to say that wasn’t it. He felt like he was crow-hopping, one buck worse than the next. She had a baby without him. She caused his father’s death?

  “I knew he wanted to ride Bone Buster that day,” she began slowly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “My father and several of our hands had gathered up a purse and bet no one could ride the brindle. Flint was almost the first one to take up the challenge and he bragged to everybody that he would give the purse to you and me so we could marry and have a better start on our own place than your folks did.”

  Dally cursed. “I told him I wouldn’t accept the money unless I could match it dollar for dollar.”

  “I knew that, Dally. I even agreed with you, but your father wouldn’t hear any different. He was as stubborn about making the draw as you’ve been about riding the bull.” She reached out to Dally, but he didn’t take her hand, his arms folding across his chest stubbornly.

  “I knew he’d never be satisfied till he made the ride,” her voice squeaked with a tension that caused her to start pacing. “He told me that nothing I could say would make him change his mind. So I did the one thing within my power. I asked my father if I could handle the hat and draw for the rides.”

  She sighed, letting out a long, slow stream of breath. “I tucked the scrap of paper with Bone Buster’s name on it inside the inner lining so that I could draw the bull’s name whenever I chose.” She faced him, her eyes full of anguish. “I couldn’t stand not to give him what he wanted since he was being so single-minded about it. Don’t you see, Dally. I deliberately chose Bone Buster for Flint. I caused him to die.”

  Dally’s stone-carved face triggered Augusta’s worst fear. She’d lost him. He’d never forgive her interference. Never forgive her for trying to control the outcome of their future by being so stupid.

  “Didn’t you think we loved each other enough to find another way? To give me time to find a way to make our life together?”

  “Is that it? You’re not going to blame me for helping him die, but you’re infuriated because I didn’t give you enough time? You’re angry because I didn’t trust you?” Yet his accusation rang true. She hadn’t trusted him. Hadn’t believed in him. Thought him too young at seventeen to deal with the fact that there was a reason their marriage should happen more quickly than they’d planned.

  If he was this hurt by knowing she’d rigged the drawing, how much more so would he be when she told him about Maddy? This was too much. Her emotions were too raw. They both needed time away from each other. Maybe morning would bring better sense to all this. Maybe then she could decide to tell him the rest.

  “Please forgive me about the drawing, Dally. I never meant to hurt you or your family.”

  His legs were now apart, his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders rigid as if he were bracing for a showdown. “Then I’m guessing that you’ve rigged the drawings where I’m concerned too.”

  She nodded. “Every time you showed up at a competition where we took Bone Buster.”

  “You were at every one?”

  “If I wasn’t, I made sure you didn’t make the draw.”

  “You going to keep your hands out of it tomorrow? Let somebody else draw?”

  “I tried to tell you I would earlier when I said maybe tomorrow would be a luckier day for you. I had already planned to let fate decide.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that now just because you say it.”

  “Only you can decide what you choose to believe.” Everything she’d ever hoped for was no more. They had no future together if he wasn’t willing to trust her again. Augusta took one last, long look at him, feeling a crushing sense of sadness as she realized that lack of trust was its own death.

  Dally couldn’t sleep. He’d tried to shut away his thoughts but failed miserably. As the first light of dawn shone beyond the walls of his tent, he decided to go ahead and get up for the day. Maybe a walk would do him good. It sure couldn’t hurt.

  He glanced at his saddlebags and thought about packing up his gear and getting the hell out of Kasota Springs. But he was a man who faced his troubles and refused to let lies run him off. Best thing for him to do was stay and find out what else Augusta Garrison had kept from him.

  Restless and angry, he exited the tent and strode past the still sleeping Double D encampment. Only Sam was stirring about. The cook had probably been up for hours preparing the morning meal that would come sooner than some of the sleepers preferred. He’d heard dancers returning to camp long past midnight and some of them had clearly imbibed in libations.

  Dally glanced toward the half tent that rose over Slim Doogan’s bedroll and wished that his friend was already awake. He needed someone to talk to. Someone he could trust. But the stringbean was snoring loudly. The man had taken a lot or ribbing about not riding Bone Buster. His friend deserved a decent rest from all the jeering.

  Dally peered past the encampment to search for the rooftop of the Springs Hotel. Maybe he ought to have himself a long talk with his old friends, the Garrisons. He’d bet they’d have a thing or two to say on the subject of their grandchild. Why hadn’t they mentioned the fact to Dally? He knew Augusta well enough that had the subject come up, she would have never asked them to lie to him. But he couldn’t put them in that awkward situation. They’d never been anything but kind to him and his parents.

  Hell, he didn’t even know if Gus had given birth to a girl or a boy.

  A child. Augus
ta’s child. Envy, unlike any he’d ever known, filled Dally. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Joey’s image or the possibility of his being Augusta’s lover out of his mind. He would have chuckled at the image of a miniature clown with face paint running around Gus’s dress skirts, but this was no laughing matter.

  What did the kid look like? Did he have Augusta’s red hair? Was he smart as a whip like Augusta or have her ability to do acrobatics? What if the child was a girl? Did she make that same funny snort Gus did when she was tickled? Did she have her mother’s fetching blue eyes?

  Dally wanted to know the child, wanted to become part of his or her life. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the father. He wanted to be, needed to be the man who had the privilege of helping Augusta raise her child. Would she ever consider the possibility?

  The thought of Gus sharing her life with some other man hurt like nothing else Dally had ever felt before. He’d always thought of her as his. She’d said she was, didn’t she? Less than seven hours ago. Was that a lie too?

  Weary of questions that had no answers, he headed toward the maze of wooden chutes that held the rodeo stock. He needed somewhere to vent the crushing weight of unhappiness that enveloped him, and there was only one thing that sprang to mind that might satisfy such a need for now. To confront Bone Buster. Right now. Without the benefit of an audience. Without the approval of the woman he loved. Maybe he could ride this hell out of his system.

  But as he neared the chutes, he saw Augusta standing at the brindle’s pen, her outline a beauty unlike he’d ever known. Her hair cascaded like an auburn waterfall past her shoulders. She was dressed in a riding skirt and blouse the color of her eyes.