THE OUTLAW BRIDE

by Maggie Shayne

  Esmeralda shook her head. Elliot got to his feet. "Jessi," he began, a warning tone in his voice.

  "Don't you 'Jessi' me, it's all right here. Everything she said, it's right here! The names of the Brands who lived in Quinn in 1881. Garrison was sheriff, and his brothers Waylon and Blake were part of an outlaw gang. Allen owned the bank, and Eldon, the youngest, was murdered by a young Mexican woman in an argument over property. A woman who was sentenced to hang for her crime, but who escaped justice. Everything is right here. Even her name, Esmeralda Montoya, and her father's name. He owned the ranch, but he was killed by unknown bandits, and when the mortgage wasn't paid off, the bank took possession of the property. It's been Brand land ever since."

  Taking a deep breath, still glaring at Esmeralda, Jessi sank into a chair. "So there. You see?"

  Elliot came to stand right behind Esmeralda's chair, his hands closing softly, reassuringly, on her shoulders. "All I see is proof that everything she and I told you last night is the truth."

  "Oh, for Pete's sake, Elliot," Jessi snapped. "What you ought to see is that it was all a matter of public record, and that she could have gotten this information just as easily as I did!" Shaking her head, she shot Garrett a look. "She's claiming to be a woman who murdered one of our ancestors, Garrett. If you can't arrest her for pretending to be someone she's not, then arrest her on a hundred-year-old murder warrant that's still outstanding."

  "Now, Jessi, just—"

  "That's it." Elliot's voice was suddenly so deep and so angry that even Esmeralda felt a chill. "That's it, I've had all I'm gonna take from you, Jessi Lynn Brand. Now it's my turn to talk and your turn to listen, you hear?"

  Eyes widening slightly, Jessi nodded once. "Say what you want, Elliot. You'll never convince me this wild tale of hers is true."

  "Then maybe you'll believe this. I love this woman."

  Dead silence. Esmeralda heard her own gasp, and she saw Jessi's jaw drop. The woman looked as if she'd been hit between the eyes.

  "And what's more, I'm gonna marry her."

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  "You're what?"

  Everyone in the room shouted the same words, or similar ones, but no one quite as loudly or with as much impact as Esmeralda. She was so stunned by Elliot Brand's foolish declaration that she leapt to her feet as she asked the question, sending her chair over backward behind her. Elliot jumped out of the way of the chair, but he would not escape the woman as easily. Esmeralda whirled to face him, poking him in the chest with her finger as she said, "You have some nerve, saying such things!"

  "But—but I—"

  "But nothing! You don't even know me, Elliot Brand. What makes you think you love me, eh? And even if you did, what makes you think I want to marry you?"

  He lifted his brows, and she felt a pang, because there was a bit of hurt in his eyes, but mostly confusion. "You mean … you don't?"

  She flicked both hands open, palms up. "The light dawns," she said. Then she turned away, facing his family. "You can stop your worrying now, muchachos. You keep your precious stolen land and your brother and your opinion of me. I want none of it! My father once told me that to love a man is to love his family—to marry a man is to marry his family. To be loved by a man is to be loved by his family. Well, it is all too plain this family wants no part of me, and I want no part of it!" She turned and strode out the door, slamming it none too gently behind her, and she kept right on walking.

  This family—they were loco! All of them! First they accused her of making up stories, then they found proof that what she'd told them was true and somehow decided it was proof instead that she'd lied. They refused to believe their own blood when he told them what happened and, in the same breath, vowed to do harm to anyone who might hurt him. And as for Elliot… Dios, he was the most loco of them all. Unlike any man she had ever known! First he told her he didn't expect sex as payment for his aid, and then he made love to her anyway, and the next thing she knew, he was claiming he wanted to marry her!

  Marry her!

  She slowed her pace a little, glancing over her shoulder nervously. Back along the winding, dusty road, the big white house stood watching her go. No one followed. No doubt they were all relieved she'd finally gone. Perhaps even Elliot.

  Marry her. Imagine that. It was exactly what she'd planned to make him do. It had all been so simple in her mind. Get pregnant, or claim to be so, should his seed not take root in her after all. She knew he would do the honorable thing by her then. He would marry her. And then she would claim a portion of his land when she demanded a divorce. So simple.

  But everything had changed, hadn't it? He was just too damned good, too kind to her, too … too wonderful. He was nothing like his bloodthirsty ancestors. And, damn him, he thought he was in love with her.

  Her. A scheming, conniving woman who'd planned to use him and steal his land … exactly the way his ancestors had used and stolen from her.

  And yet he wasn't coming after her. Why not?

  She rolled her eyes heavenward and started walking faster again. It wasn't as if she wanted him to come after her. Besides, that loco family of his was likely grilling him endlessly just now, demanding to know what his intentions were. Probably they would take his portion of the land away from him now, just in case he should find a way to bring her into the family. Just to protect the ranch from the likes of Esmeralda Montoya.

  Well, to hell with all of them.

  The creak of the screen door in the distance made her look back quickly, and even as she did, she ducked low. A clump of sagebrush near the roadside gave her cover as she looked back. Elliot stood on the porch, looking down the road. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called her name. Her throat went dry. She licked her lips and wondered why her eyes were burning.

  "I am sorry, Elliot Brand," she whispered. "You do not deserve what I was planning to do to you. The rest of your family… Sí. But not you. And so I go." Her throat growing too tight to speak, she added softly, "Dios, papa, I wish you were here!" Then she crept away, down the slight slope beside the dirt road and into the thicket nearby, keeping low until she was well out of sight. Knowing, even then, that Elliot would come looking for her.

  But he would not find her. No, not where she was going.

  Elliot walked and called and felt just about as low as he could ever remember having felt. The only time it had been this bad, he thought, was when he'd been knee-high to a cricket, and Garrett had gathered the whole family together to tell them that their Mama and Dad wouldn't be coming home anymore.

  Esmeralda had lost her father, too. And to her that pain was fresh and new. She would want to be close to him.

  Okay. So the first place Elliot would search would be the tiny burial ground. "El?"

  He stopped short on the dirt road, bristling at his sister's voice. Not turning to face her.

  "El, I'm sorry. I didn't … I didn't know you were that serious about her."

  Slowly, he turned. "You know, when they all wanted to beat Lash bloody, I stood up for him. I stood up for you. That's the way it's always been with us, Jessi. You and me, just like this." He held two fingers up, side by side. "But not anymore."

  He started to turn away. She caught his shoulder. "Elliot, please! I just don't trust her, is all. I didn't mean to—"

  "I know you don't trust her," he said slowly. "But you're supposed to trust me, Jess." He shook his head slowly. "You let me down. I mean, of everyone in this family, you were the one I was sure would take my side." He shook his head once, then pulled away from her touch and kept walking.

  "Elliot!" Jessi shouted. "Dammit, Elliot, I'm sorry!"

  He heard tears in her voice and almost broke, but he held firm. He didn't turn back. He didn't turn back.

  Not for a long while. He walked over acres of the ranch, through the wooded parts, across the open parts. He went to the grove where the tombstones of Esmeralda's parents stood, crooked and crumbling. But she wasn'
t there. He searched near the stream, but he didn't find her there, either. Hours passed as he walked the ranch, calling her name, hoping she would calm down and come back.

  Hell, he supposed he had been a little bit crazy back there at the breakfast table. Just blurting everything out the way he had. He hadn't even known he was going to say it. But the minute he did, he knew it had been a mistake. He'd been driven by the need to strike back at his family—to shock them the way their lack of support had been shocking him since all this had started.

  And yes, there was more than that. He truly did feel something for Esmeralda. Something potent and hot. He wanted her to distraction. He was all wrought up all the time since she'd come into his life, and he liked being that way. It was an exciting kind of feeling.

  Hell, when all was said and done, it made perfect sense that she ought to marry him. The farther he walked, and the more he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed. Even if this thing was too new to call love, it was still … like. At least like. Right? Hell, she had nowhere to go, and he wasn't involved with anyone or likely to be. He'd never felt even passingly fond enough of a woman to think about wanting to settling down.

  Except Esmeralda. He was way beyond passingly fond of her. And he wanted to make love to her every single night of his life. And he was damned well going to, whether she married him or not, and from her response last night, he kind of thought she might agree with him on that. So they might as well do the deed. Make it legal. Tie the knot.

  It would solve all her problems. She would be a Brand then, and the ranch would be as much hers as it was his own, and so that problem would be solved, as well.

  Man, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made.

  Of course, blurting it out the way he had … and with her temper being what it was … and then the whole family looking at her like she'd come to destroy every living Brand on the planet—well, it was no wonder she'd run off. She tended to overreact to everything, anyway.

  He smiled to himself, thinking of the way she looked when her temper heated up—as it often did. Her eyes would widen and flash, and her nostrils would flare just a little. Her chin would come up, and her shoulders would square. Her spine would go rigid, her legs would seem to lengthen, and her hands would curl into tight little fists. He liked to watch that … the way she reacted with every part of her being.

  She'd been like that when they'd made love, too.

  Her voice deepened and slowed, and she muttered soft, breathless words in Spanish. Her body softened and lengthened and heated. Her breaths came shorter and faster, while her heart beat fast and hard. Her every sensation was reflected in her face, in her eyes, in her movements, in her touch.

  Oh, hell. He had to find her.

  She couldn't have gone very far on foot. He almost smiled again at the irony of that thought. The two of them had come a hundred years on foot, so he supposed…

  Oh, no. What if she'd decided to try to go back?

  His heart jumped and pounded, making it hard to breathe. But she couldn't, he told himself. Not without the pendant.

  Right. Not without the pendant. In fact, I'll bet that's where she is right now. Out by that big old oak tree on the River Road

  , looking for the pendant.

  He nodded hard and turned to head back toward the ranch. He would get a horse … or the pickup. No, no, a horse, because she was on foot, and she wouldn't be likely to stick to the beaten paths. He would be more likely to find her on a horse.

  Unless it's already too late. Could be, you know. She might have already found that stone skull and zapped herself right back where she came from.

  The image of Esmeralda as Elliot had first glimpsed her filled his mind. Standing tall, proud and undefeated, on the gallows, a noose around her neck, the wind in her hair.

  He tried to force the nightmare away as he broke into a run. And as he did, he saw the sky darkening to the south and the roiling shapes of storm clouds gathering.

  She wasn't at the crash site looking for the pendant. Elliot scanned the ground for the stupid, cursed thing himself, but he didn't find it. And he knew he probably wouldn't. Wes had looked … hell, so had Taylor. And she was prone to finding things like lost villages buried under a century or two of dirt and time, so if she hadn't found it, Elliot figured his own chances were pretty slim.

  As were Esmeralda's.

  God, he hoped so, anyway.

  Thunder rumbled nearer, and a look at the sky gave him a shiver. The storm clouds were moving in fast from the gulf, and even now the wind was picking up. Hanging his head, he mounted his horse, a longtime friend of his. Trigger was named for the smartest horse in history, so far as Elliot was concerned. He'd always been a stickler for trick ponies and rodeos. And he'd taught Trigger a thing or two in their years together.

  "Don't suppose you're any good at tracking runaways, though, are you, Trigger?"

  The smallish mare shook her mane and blew, just as if answering.

  "She isn't," a voice said. "But you know good and well that I am."

  Elliot looked up to see Jessi mounted on a dingy white crossbreed Appaloosa named Sugar. And beyond her was Garrett, sitting tall on Duke, Wes riding Paint, Adam seated upon a horse he called Sundance, and Ben riding a sibling of Duke's that he'd long ago claimed as his own and insisted on calling Horse. Ben always had been a little different.

  Elliot sighed, lowered his head. "I take it she hasn't showed up back at the house, then," he said.

  "Not yet. But Sara and Chelsea are there waiting, in case she does," Jessi told him. "Lash is asking around town."

  "Meanwhile, Taylor's gone to the university to dig up anything she can find on that crystal skull," Wes said.

  "Yeah," Ben put in. "And in case you're still worried, don't be. Nancy Drew is on the case, as well."

  Elliot smiled. Ben's sleuthing wife, Penny, was one of a kind.

  "She drafted Kirsten to help her," Adam said. "Even little Bubba's pitching in. He's keeping watch out his bedroom window with that toy telescope of his."

  Elliot nodded. "So the family's decided to help me find her, after all?" He eyed each of them.

  "Well, all except Sara," Jessi said. "She's still ensconced in the attic, digging through the family history. But the rest of us … yes, Elliot. We want to help."

  "And what about when we find her?" Everyone looked at him, then at each other. Elliot waited, but no one spoke. "Look, this is real. It's not some scam to steal the ranch, and it's not a hallucination. I was there. I saw all this happen. Now, you either believe me or you don't. Which is it?"

  Wes looked at his siblings, shook his head slowly and nudged the dark Appaloosa with the white, spotted rump forward. When they reached Elliot's side,

  Wes turned Paint around to face the others. "I'm with you, Elliot."

  Ben was next. He held Elliot's gaze for a long moment, then nodded hard and lightly kicked his horse's tawny sides. "I guess if my Penny could come back from the dead, then anything's possible," he said. "Besides, I know better than to side against love. It always wins anyway."

  Now Elliot was flanked by two of his brothers. Adam looked at Garrett, and Garrett at Adam. "It's just … it's just that we all know time travel isn't possible," Adam said. "But … if Elliot says it happened…"

  Garrett nodded. "He's our brother. If he says it's snowing in Guadalupe on the fourth of July, then we got no choice but to believe him."

  "Right." Adam nudged his horse ahead, and Garrett followed. "We're with you, Elliot. But if you tell anyone, I'll kick your backside."

  "You'll try," Elliot said.

  Adam sniffed. "Hell, to tell you the truth, I'm a little relieved. Never quite got over you telling me you'd marry Kirsten yourself if I let her get away from me."

  Elliot lowered his head, smiling softly. He'd only been half-kidding, but he would never say so. Finally only Jessi remained. She met Elliot's eyes. Drew a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you to some crazy woman … from this ti
me or any other," she said. "But I guess if I don't ease up on you, I'm likely to lose you anyway, huh?"

  He nodded.

  Thinning her lips, Jessi nodded back. "Okay, then. I believe you. All right?"

  He held her eyes, searched them until she looked away. "I think you're lying through your teeth, Jess. But at least you're making an effort."

  "Doin' the best I can," she muttered. "Come on. Let's get back to the ranch and see if she left any sign."

  Elliot nodded. If anyone could pick up a trail, it would be Jessi. "Thanks, Jess."

  Jessi nodded and whirled her horse around. As she did, she, too, looked at the sky. The storm was going to break any time now. It hovered overhead as thick and black as coal oil, dark clouds tumbling over one another in an agitated boil. Elliot could feel the tension in the air. It almost crackled. The storm was ready to break loose. And Esmeralda was out there somewhere, alone and afraid.

  Esmeralda was warm and safe, and quite pleased with herself. She'd spent the day exploring the land that felt as if it were the last remaining member of her family. Revisiting old haunts that hadn't changed in a century … exploring the places that had changed. And rediscovering her favorite spot in all the world. Oh, she wasn't exactly in the lap of luxury here, but she was glad to see that she could get by, even in this strange world. Because some things hadn't changed.

  The cave, for example, was still here. Right where it had always been. The same spot where she used to come as a child. It hadn't been so far from the old house she used to like to visit. The house had been little more than a cabin. Four walls and a loft, her father had told her. Later it had gone to ruin after her father had built the big house, on the same spot where the Brands' home now stood. But this place … this had been first. It was a part of her family history, of her heritage.

  The log cabin was no longer there, of course. She'd looked for the stone foundation that used to be there and seen only one small patch of stones, four feet long and two high. The rest of the foundation had been scattered long since. But the cave remained. Long ago it had been only a stone's throw from the cabin. Her father said that when he was a single young man just starting out, he used to store milk in there to keep it cool in the natural spring that ran through the deepest recess.