To Kiss a Texan

by Jodi Thomas

  It took her almost an hour to saddle the horse and move all the supplies back into her chamber. At first she tied the mule, then changed her mind for fear he might be attacked by wolves. The mule would have to go along with her.

  She dressed in her leathers, knowing they’d keep her warmer in the rain and be easier to move in. The boots Nichole had given her went well with her leggings. Finally, she braided her hair in one long chain and tied it with a leather strap.

  When she left her cave, she looked more Comanche than the only grandchild of Victoria Catlin.

  Deep into the night, Allie finally saw the outline of the mission. The tall stone buildings pointed toward the night sky in a silent stand against all time. Several dwellings surrounded it, but the hour was late, and any fires within the houses were low.She left her horse and the mule at the river and walked slowly toward the mission. Her leather made no sound as she neared. In a few hours it would be dawn. If Wes were here, he’d wait until morning to leave.

  Slowly, she recognized the outline of a man leaning against the wall outside the mission. His hat was low, his arms and legs crossed over a slender body with wide shoulders. She felt a sadness, a sense of loss in the way he stood. Wes. Whatever he’d found hadn’t been a treasure.

  She wasn’t sure what he’d do when he saw her. Or even if he’d be glad she came, but she had to try. If he didn’t want her, he’d have to tell her to her face, not disappear from her life.

  Allie moved in front of him and widened her stance, preparing for whatever happened.

  Wes raised his head and smiled. ‘‘I heard you coming since you left the river.’’

  She tilted her head. Of all the things she’d thought he would say, that wasn’t one of them. He didn’t reach for her as she hoped he might.

  ‘‘Why’d you come, Allie? Didn’t you know I’d be back as soon as I could?’’

  He made no sense. How could she have known he’d be back? It was time to say what she planned.

  ‘‘I came to be with you.’’ She moved a step closer so that she could see his face clearly in the moonlight. ‘‘If you don’t want me, you’ll have to say so face to face. I am of your tribe. I should travel wherever you travel.’’

  Wes pushed away from the wall. ‘‘Daniel was right when he said I’m not much of a catch as a husband. I just played my last card inside and didn’t win the hand. There is no Goliad gold. A priest told me he has seen a dozen old maps like the one I had. They’re all worthless.’’

  ‘‘The gold doesn’t matter.’’

  ‘‘Not to you, but I can’t ask you to be my real wife when I have nothing to offer. You deserve more, far more.’’

  Allie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He didn’t think himself worthy of her.

  A flicker of light blinked above them from the window. The faraway sound of stone scraping against stone creaked through the air.

  ‘‘Someone’s in the church,’’ Allie whispered. ‘‘Should we go?’’

  A thud echoed from inside, then another.

  Glancing at the light, Wes shook his head. ‘‘No one should be there at this hour.’’

  ‘‘Maybe it’s the ghosts.’’

  ‘‘Maybe.’’ Wes laughed. ‘‘Come to get their own gold.’’

  A rattle whispered from the church. A tapping. Someone running.

  Wes grabbed Allie’s hand and headed toward the entrance. ‘‘If the map’s worthless, why would anyone be in the church so late? Those aren’t ghosts.’’

  They passed huge, hand-carved doors as they entered the almost total darkness of the mission.

  Allie pulled at Wes’s hand. She didn’t want to invade this place. She could feel the sorrow, the sadness, the pain of hundreds who’d once been imprisoned here.Allie knew what it felt like to be locked in when all hope of escape vanished.

  ‘‘Hello!’’ he shouted.

  The tapping stopped.

  Crossing to the lantern sitting on the floor beside a stone that had been pried away, Wes knelt and waited as he drew his Colt.

  After a while, the priest he’d given what he thought to be a worthless map crawled from the opening. Dust clung to him like a second skin. ‘‘You were right!’’ he shouted at Wes with an almost wicked laugh. ‘‘The map was true. There is a tunnel beneath this stone.’’

  Wes moved closer, not believing the man’s words. If the tunnel existed, the gold must also exist.

  The priest pulled off his robe and tossed it away. The clothing slid across the floor of the mission. Beneath the robes he wore the clothes of a wrangler, not a man of the cloth. ‘‘We’ve been looking for months and hoping the map hadn’t disappeared in that stampede. I’ve grown weary of wearing those robes every night and pretending. We almost gave up hope that anyone with a true map would show up.’’

  Wes braced himself for a fight. ‘‘You laid a trap tonight.You don’t belong here at the mission. You’re one of the men who tried to kill Vincent.’’

  The accusation did nothing to lesson the man’s joy as he pulled a box of tools and explosives from the shadows. ‘‘What if I am? Who will you tell? The gold is mine. All you provided was the last key to the puzzle.’’

  Wes raised his gun. ‘‘I don’t think so.’’

  The man glanced up from his work, as though Wes were no more than a gnat bothering him. ‘‘Go ahead, shoot me. But you’ll have to watch your lady friend die.’’

  Glancing behind him, Wes saw a short man with massive, hairy arms holding a long knife to Allie’s throat. She stared at him, paralyzed in the stranger’s grip.

  ‘‘Choose!’’ the imposter priest shouted. ‘‘The woman or the gold.’’

  Without hesitation, Wes lowered his weapon.

  Laughter echoed as the wrangler sneered. ‘‘Now get out. I’m too excited to have you both killed tonight. And don’t come back, McLain. You see, there’s a difference between you and me. I’ll do anything, including kill, for this gold. You don’t want it that badly. It’s not worth your life.’’

  ‘‘You’re right.’’ Wes pulled Allie beneath his arm. ‘‘I’ve found something far more valuable.’’

  As he walked away, he heard the two men talking as they scrambled to haul dynamite into the opening. One said a section about ten feet down had collapsed, but the map showed it was another five feet to the gold. They had no time to dig. They had to reach the gold and be gone before dawn, when the real priest arrived.

  Wes no longer cared if they found the treasure or not. Allie was safe. In a blink of time, he’d made his choice.

  They walked down to the river in silence. When they reached the shadows of aging cottonwood trees, he pulled her close and held her against his heart.

  ‘‘You gave up the gold for me,’’ she whispered when he pulled away.

  ‘‘It doesn’t matter,’’ he answered. ‘‘I couldn’t allow any harm to come to you, you’re my wife.’’ He caressed her gently. ‘‘I didn’t want you to come with me tonight because you might be in danger, but you made me realize I already have a treasure.’’

  Allie stared at his chest, unable to look into his eyes. ‘‘When I told Jason he was of my tribe,’’ Allie told him, closing her eyes as she remembered the words, ‘‘he said, ‘I love you too.’ ’’

  Wes raised her head. ‘‘Are you saying you love me, Mrs. McLain?’’

  ‘‘I am.’’

  Wes kissed her nose and pulled away. ‘‘Then there’s something that needs doing.’’ He lowered to one knee and held her left hand in both his. ‘‘Allie, will you marry me? Will you have me, rich or mostly poor? Will you sleep beneath my blankets for the rest of your life?’’

  A sudden blast shattered the night. The ground beneath them shook. For a second, Wes thought it was his heart. A light bright as day blinked from inside the mission.

  ‘‘Stay here!’’ Wes shouted as he ran across the field.

  Allie heard shouts from the buildings around as people emerged in their nightclothes to see what
had happened. She couldn’t wait. She ran to catch Wes.

  When she reached the huge doors, she saw him turn away from the opening in the floor.

  ‘‘What happened?’’

  ‘‘The dynamite must have gone off before they could get out. The whole tunnel’s caved in. If they weren’t blown to bits, they’re buried ten feet down.’’

  Allie pushed past him and grabbed the loose square of stone that the men had removed. ‘‘Help me,’’ she whispered, ‘‘before others get here.’’

  Wes lifted the other side of the stone. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Let the gold stay with the ghosts of Goliad. It’s wrong for anyone to take it.’’

  Wes helped her slide the stone into place. ‘‘So we leave a fortune buried along with the men who tried to take it?’’

  Allie straightened and nodded. People were already filling the church, asking questions and trying to figure out what caused such an explosion.

  She remained silent.

  A real priest hurried in, trying to look around as he calmed his flock. Seeing the two strangers, but nothing amiss with the building, he demanded to know why they were in the mission at this hour.

  Wes took Allie’s hand and said simply, ‘‘We want to get married.’’ He glanced in her direction. ‘‘If she’ll have me? I’d like to do it right this time,’’ he leaned close and whispered, ‘‘without you holding a knife.’’

  ‘‘But all the ghosts?’’

  ‘‘I don’t think they’ll mind.’’

  The priest let out a long breath and straightened his robes. Quick weddings and fast funerals were a way of life in this country. ‘‘Do you want to marry this man, young lady?’’

  Allie smiled. ‘‘I do.’’

  EPILOGUE

  THEY RODE NORTH, AVOIDING TOWNS AS THEY headed home to Wes’s ranch. Even after a few days in the cave, Wes still didn’t want to share Allie with anyone. They could have made the journey in half the time, but Wes found himself looking for a camp by midafternoon each day. He’d take the time to unload the pack mule and set up the tent. Then, they’d watch the sun set and were making love by the time the stars came out each night. She liked to sleep nude beside him, and Wes never thought to complain.When they finally crossed onto his land, he saw it through her eyes. All that had ever mattered to him was how many head of cattle he could run on each acre. But she saw the streams and the rolling hills. To her, his ranch was beautiful.

  As they moved over his land, Wes noticed far more strays grazing on the property than he remembered leaving before the drive. First a few, then groups of twenty or thirty head. As they neared, he was surprised to see they bore his brand.

  At first, Wes thought he must have been a fool to miss so many head, but as he came upon a herd of fifty or more, he knew something was wrong. No man would leave so many in the field to winter.

  When they cleared the ridge to his dugout, Wes understood. Between his home and the barn was a camp. Wes kicked his horse, ready to demand some answers.

  But as he approached, he recognized the men. They were Victoria’s Old Guard, and they were milling around as though they’d been there for days.

  Wes swung from his saddle. ‘‘What’s going on?’’ he asked the first man he saw.

  The aging soldier just pointed to the campsite.

  Wes saw Colonel Attenbury step from a tent. ‘‘ Colonel!’’ Wes called to him. ‘‘What’s going on?’’

  The colonel smiled. ‘‘We’ve been sent to deliver Miss Allie’s dowry.’’

  ‘‘I don’t need any—’’

  Attenbury held up his hand. ‘‘I’ve been told that if you won’t take the cattle, we’re to take back the bride. It is an insult to refuse a dowry.’’

  Wes heard the sound of several guns clearing leather.

  ‘‘Which will it be, son? Have no doubt, we’ll carry out Miss Victoria’s order if we have to make her granddaughter a widow to do so.’’

  Wes smiled. ‘‘I guess I’ll take the cattle—because I’m not giving up my wife.’’

  He turned in time to see Allie step into the dugout; he felt his heart sink. How could he bring a wife to such a horrible little house that stuck out of the side of a ridge, half underground, half above?

  As he walked away, he heard Attenbury invite them to supper, but Wes wasn’t thinking of food. She’d probably take one look at the spider web–infested place and run back to Victoria’s.

  When he stepped into the dugout, it was so black he couldn’t even see her. She’d vanished in the shadows.

  ‘‘It’s not so bad once the windows are opened and the lamps are lit,’’ he tried to reassure her. ‘‘I never spent much time in here.’’

  He knew she was in the darkness somewhere.

  ‘‘I’ll start on the other house. We’ll have it finished in no time.’’ He moved into the blackness.

  When he did, her arms slid around his waist. ‘‘I love it,’’ she whispered. ‘‘It’s half your world and half mine. Half house and half cave.’’

  Her hand moved over his clothes to his hair and pulled his head down to her lips. The kiss was warm and inviting. Cool air surrounded them. Thick walls blocked out all the world but Allie in his arms.

  ‘‘There’s a bed in here somewhere,’’ he mumbled as she unbuttoned his clothes, as if they hadn’t made love in days.

  ‘‘I know,’’ she said, laughing. ‘‘I’ve already stumbled over it.’’ She pulled him along.

  ‘‘Allie,’’ he whispered as their knees brushed the bed and they tumbled backward. ‘‘Are you smiling?’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ she answered.

  ‘‘Allie, I love you.’’

  ‘‘I take that as a promise.’’

  He kissed her tenderly.

  ‘‘More, please.’’

  Turn the page for a

  preview of Jodi Thomas’s

  romance

  To Wed in Texas

  Available now from Jove Books

  ONE

  DANIEL MCLAIN WRAPPED HIS ARMS ACROSS HIS chest and fought to keep warm as he stood on the cold, damp dock and watched an ancient trunk being unloaded off the day’s only steamboat. Dark, brooding clouds reflected his mood while the boat’s whistle echoed to the far bank covered in cypress trees. His massive strength could no more help him now than he could hold back the impending storm. He was alone.If he were a swearing man, this would be the time for a few carefully chosen words.

  Somehow, he’d landed in a Texas town so wild that federal troops were being pulled from along the frontier to handle the riots. Law was almost nonexistent. The worst of men, both Northern and Southern, poured through the streets as though it were the only hole in the dike. Corruption spilled like sewage, fouling even those trying to mend the country’s cavernwide rip. Prison corrals, not fit for pigs, held innocent men while the guilty walked free, bragging of their crimes.

  Daniel shoved the old trunk, engraved with his late wife’s maiden name, into the bed of his wagon. ‘‘Hell,’’ he mumbled low enough he hoped heaven wouldn’t hear. As if he didn’t have enough problems, the trunk from May’s aunt had arrived without the old woman attached.

  He had his hands full trying to stop war from breaking out. Thanks to one old maid who’d missed the only boat from Shreveport, he had no one to keep his three-year-old daughters out of harm’s way.

  As rain broke free from above, Daniel closed his eyes and fought back the loneliness that shook from his very core. ‘‘Why’d you have to leave me, May?’’ he whispered for the hundredth time since his wife died. If she’d known how hard his life would be, would she have fought a bit longer to survive? He’d lived through his war injuries to come back to her. Why hadn’t she lived through childbirth?

  He slapped the horses into action and set his jaw. Somehow, he would do what had to be done. Somehow, he’d make it another day. He’d raise his daughters, he’d do his job, and he’d wait until he could be with May again. He had no doubt there was a h
eaven, although, except for the twins’ smiles, he was living in hell.

  Karlee Whitworth fought to stretch her cramped leg amid the scratchy woolens and once-starched cottons that surrounded her like a stagnant tornado. If she’d realized her stay in the trunk would be so long, she would have removed more of the clothing before climbing inside.‘‘Help,’’ she whispered, knowing no one would hear her. ‘‘I’m trapped in here! Help!’’

  The swaying had stopped hours ago, so she knew she was no longer being transported. She’d recognized the rocking of the ship last night, then felt a shifting when moved to a wagon. The uneven, bumpy ride had seemed endless before she’d felt the trunk lifted and set on solid ground. But where? A night and a day must have passed while she waited.

  What if the baggage housing her had been set aside in some storeroom? It might be weeks before her cousin’s husband picked it up! Karlee wasn’t even sure Aunt Rosy had sent him word she was coming in Rosy’s place. The last letter he’d probably received had listed plans for the old aunt to make the trip. Rosy and Violet had hatched up the idea of Karlee going as a surprise. Karlee was packed before the shock had time to wear off. The entire clan seemed in such a hurry to get rid of Karlee, they probably hadn’t thought of posting word of her arrival.

  What if she had to wait days until someone noticed the shipment? When Reverend Daniel McLain finally opened the chest addressed to him, he’d find nothing but the bones of Karlee Whitworth, an unknown cousin-inlaw, amid her wrinkled clothing.

  Karlee pounded against the inside of the trunk in earnest. ‘‘Help!’’ she screamed, knowing the fabric around her muffled her cries.

  She listened, praying to hear any human sound. Riding in the trunk had seemed such a good idea in Shreveport when she’d run out of money. But now, it was more likely to fall into the category of ‘‘half-baked schemes.’’ She always had trouble telling good ideas from halfbaked schemes. In the beginning, they were twins. In the end, opposites.