Scandalous Desire [Desire, Oklahoma - The Founding Fathers 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Lana Dare

  After years spent on guard, she’d relaxed around them, probably a lot more than she should have.

  With the realization of how alert she had to be from now on, Savannah straightened in the saddle and made her way to the livery. Leaving her horse there, she went out, careful to stay in the shadows as she made her way around the building to the other side, the one closest to the hotel.

  Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, she paused, searching the street for any sign of her uncle and his friends.

  One friend in particular—one who she wanted to keep away from Hayes and Wyatt at all costs.

  A man who’d killed and was proud of it—a man who apparently idolized her uncle and made a deal with him to take care of a little girl so he could ride off with her mother.

  Savannah hadn’t seen him since the day he’d taken her mother away, laughing and smiling as he loaded her and her bags onto the buckboard.

  Her mother hadn’t even turned and waved, leaving Savannah crying on the porch, her uncle’s firm grip on her shoulders the only thing keeping her from running after her.

  She’d never seen her mother again.

  Blinking back tears, she pushed aside the gut-wrenching emptiness of being abandoned.

  The suddenness of that empty feeling left her knees shaking, along with the knowledge that Wyatt and Hayes had systematically been filling that empty place inside her and she hadn’t even realized it.

  She had to go back.

  She would go back to the only people in the world who meant anything to her. She couldn’t let her uncle destroy the rest of her life as he’d destroyed it so far. She deserved to be happy.

  She’d found love, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to Wyatt and Hayes and embrace a life she never could have dreamed of.

  First, though, she had to deal with her uncle.

  Straightening her shoulders, she couldn’t stop smiling at the renewed sense of purpose that filled her. Just thinking about Wyatt and Hayes strengthened her. With them in her life, she could face anything.

  She pushed away from the side of the building, keeping her hand on her gun as she made her way toward the steps that led to the hotel she’d stayed in only a few weeks earlier.

  It felt like a lifetime ago.

  Knowing that her uncle would have already finished his evening meal, she ignored her own growling stomach and started toward the front door of the hotel. Only willpower kept her stride steady when she saw the five of them sitting on the front porch, just seconds before she heard the deep voice of the man she hated almost as much as she hated her uncle.

  As she’d expected, Ronny Callister saw her first.

  She knew, because she’d been watching him, knowing him to be the most dangerous in the bunch.

  He smiled in that way he had that she supposed he thought was charming.

  “Well, if it ain’t the runaway whore. I guess you are just like your mother. Maybe I should have come back for you after your mother died.”

  Fighting back nausea, Savannah stopped, leaning against the post in what she hoped appeared to be a relaxed pose.

  Forcing a smile, she glanced at her uncle as he came to his feet, but kept her attention on Callister, thankful that the lamps lit outside the hotel made it possible to see him clearly.

  “If it ain’t the two-bit outlaw. You kill any more men to take their wives, or are you just killing women when you get tired of them?”

  Pleased by the anger that flashed in Callister’s eyes, she kept him in her line of vision and nodded in her uncle’s direction, not bothering to hide her disgust. “Hello, Reverend. I heard you were looking for me. What do you want?”

  She glanced briefly at the others, who crossed their arms over their chests, adopting looks of disapproval, but none of them had the courage to say anything. Realizing they were the harmless windbags they’d always been, she dismissed them, concentrating on her uncle and Callister.

  Her uncle got to his feet, his face already red.

  “Savannah Perry, what on earth were you thinking? You’re coming home with me on the next train, and I don’t want to hear a word about it.”

  Savannah couldn’t help it. She laughed.

  “Hell, I remembered you as being scarier than that. Must be the company I’ve been keeping. Next to them, you seem much smaller.”

  Straightening to her full height, she stood toe-to-toe with her uncle for the first time in years. She grinned, enjoying the feeling of power immensely.

  “Yep. Definitely smaller. I’m not coming home with you. Kansas City’s your home, not mine, and I won’t ever be going back there again. You have a nice trip back, though.”

  Turning, she kept Callister in her sights, realizing her mistake almost immediately. She barely bit back a gasp when her uncle reached out a hand and grabbed her forearm, sinking his nails into her.

  Surprising at his strength, she winced before she could hide it, furious at herself when he smiled coldly.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. You’re going back to Kansas City with me if I have to tie you up and drag you with me.”

  Callister came to his feet, his hand resting lightly on the gun he wore at his hip.

  “And I’m here to make sure your friends don’t cause any trouble.”

  “Too late. Trouble’s already here. Get your hands off my woman.”

  Surprised at the voice that came out of the darkness, one she barely recognized as Wyatt’s, Savannah stopped struggling against her uncle’s hold and turned toward the direction Wyatt’s voice had come from. Her heart leapt when he stepped forward into the light, his expression hard and unrelenting.

  She’d heard Wyatt angry before, but she’d never heard quite that tone. Even though it hadn’t been directed at her, a chill went up her spine, the menace and deadly intent in it unmistakable.

  Seeing him standing there with a gun in each hand, his legs braced slightly apart, Savannah sucked in a breath. She found it hard to believe that the man in front of her was the same man who’d given her such pleasure. She couldn’t believe that the same hands that spanked her, hands that held her so tightly to him as he took her, were the same hands holding guns on five men right now.

  Some part of her had known he was a dangerous man. After all, he was a U.S. Marshal.

  She just hadn’t seen him in action before—and she’d underestimated just how brave and deadly he could be.

  Knowing she had to do something fast, Savannah took advantage of her uncle’s surprise and yanked her arm from his hold, moving clumsily down the steps as she turned to face him again.

  Unable to deny that she felt much safer with Wyatt at her back, she sucked in a breath when Callister’s guns cleared his holster. Holding out a hand toward Wyatt, she kept her eyes steady on the outlaw’s.

  “It’s all right, Wyatt. My uncle understands that I won’t be going with him.”

  Not wanting Wyatt to be taken unaware, she raised her voice to make sure he could hear her.

  “The one on the left is Ronny Callister. He’s killed quite a few men, but never gets convicted. He kills the husbands of women he wants and gets the women to testify on his behalf, telling the judge that he was with them at the time of the murder.”

  Savannah shrugged, turning to glance at Wyatt. “I guess that part’s true.”

  Facing Callister, she jumped when Wyatt spoke again, his voice coming from much closer than it had before.

  “I know all about Callister, but I don’t think your uncle realizes that Callister plans to take you with him long before you get to Kansas City.”

  Her uncle’s friends, all but Callister, sat back down, obviously shaken. Longtime friends, they usually backed her uncle in everything, but evidently not when on the wrong side of two loaded pistols.

  Giving each of them a dirty look, her uncle glanced at his dangerous friend, his eyes full of unease.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Ronny wouldn’t do such a thing to me.”

  Callister s
aid nothing, waiting until her uncle turned back to her before shooting Savannah a smile—one filled with evil intent.

  Oblivious, her uncle raised his voice to be heard by the crowd who’d gathered, clearly in his element.

  “Well, looks like we got a standoff. Of course, since Savannah is my niece, she’ll be coming home with me where she belongs.”

  Another man came forward, one she’d seen in town a few times before. Drawing his gun, he stepped up behind Wyatt.

  “I recognize you. You’re one of those troublemakers in Desire. I think the lady needs to go with her uncle and you need to go back to—”

  His words stopped abruptly at the sound of a gun cocking right behind him, one drawn and cocked before she could even get hers out of the holster.

  Hayes stepped out from the shadows, tapping the man who held a gun to Wyatt against the side of his head with his gun.

  “Drop the pistol. Savannah, step closer to Wyatt.”

  The demand in his voice couldn’t be ignored.

  The other man dropped his gun into the dirt at the same time Savannah moved, holding her gun at her side.

  Another man stepped out of the shadows, and then another.

  “I think you men ought to move on. It appears the lady’s kin is here to take her back where she belongs. The men in Tulsa stick together.”

  Another voice sounded, one she recognized from the Tyler ranch, just seconds before Hawke Royal appeared from around the side of the hotel closest to her.

  “The men of Desire stick together, too, and we protect our women. Savannah’s one of ours.”

  In her entire life, Savannah had never felt as if she belonged somewhere as much as she did in that moment.

  She smiled gratefully at the scowling Indian, noting that her uncle’s eyes kept darting between them.

  Her uncle, though, didn’t appear to give up easily. “Savannah, if you go with these men, you’re going to hell. You need to come back home with me, and everything’ll be just like before. The children there need you. The people there need you.”

  Savannah tried not to think of the nice people she’d left behind. She would miss many of them, especially the children she read to, but she knew she could never be happy there again.

  “This is what I need. I’m happy here.”

  When Blade Royal came around the other side of the hotel and Will Prentice and Adam Marshall, two of the ranch hands she’d met only briefly, came up behind Wyatt, even Callister looked uneasy.

  The other three men with her uncle looked like they wished they were someplace else.

  Hawke and Will pumped shells into the chambers of the shotguns they held on Callister, their hands steady as they stared down the barrels at him.

  “Savannah, get over here right now.” Wyatt’s voice held an edge it hadn’t held before.

  The lawman who feared nothing was scared—for her.

  Dropping her arm to her side, she started toward him, keeping Callister in her sights.

  “No.”

  Callister moved faster than she would have expected, firing his gun as he ran toward her, knocking her uncle down as he passed him.

  Savannah froze as the sounds of several shots being fired in rapid succession filled the air, feeling her gun jerk in her hand.

  She saw the look of shock on Callister’s face right before he clutched his chest, but she saw nothing else as a hard body slammed into her from behind, sending her to the ground.

  Hard.

  She heard shouts as men came out from everywhere, but with Wyatt on top of her, she couldn’t see a thing.

  “Stay still, Savannah. Christ. Are you hurt? Don’t move.”

  Crushed under his weight, Savannah struggled to get enough air.

  “I can’t breathe. Let me up.”

  “Is she hit? Move. Let me see her.”

  Recognizing the panic in Hayes’s tone, Savannah pushed against Wyatt, taking the time to run her hands over his warm chest as she did.

  “I’m not hurt. Just let me up. Oh, God.”

  She looked up in time to see her uncle pushing the lifeless body of Callister off of him, not quite steady as he came to his feet.

  Wyatt and Hayes alternately hugged her to them and pushed her away, turning her and running their hands over her.

  “She’s not hit. Hell, I slammed her hard. Be careful.”

  Hayes groaned and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair as chaos reigned all around them.

  “Nothing seems to be broken, but there’s not enough light to see her. Get her inside so we can check her out. I’ll take care of things out here.”

  Will Prentice stepped forward, his eyes full of concern as they moved over her.

  “Is she all right?”

  Hayes rubbed her back. “I don’t know. Wyatt’s going to take her in while I deal with the sheriff. Holster your gun, Savannah.”

  Savannah looked down, just now remembering that she’d fired a shot. Looking up into Wyatt’s concerned face, she dug in her heels when he tried to pull her toward the hotel.

  “Wyatt. I fired a shot. Oh, God.” She looked at where Callister lay unmoving, his blood dripping down the steps of the hotel porch.

  “I killed him. Oh, God. I killed a man.”

  The horror of what she’d done seemed to drain all of her energy. Her knees went numb, and she could no longer keep herself upright. Collapsing, she didn’t even have the strength to grab for Wyatt.

  Thankful that he caught her, she looked up into his face, seeing his mouth move, but the roaring in her head made it impossible to make out what he said.

  She looked down at her hand, surprised to see that she no longer held the gun. She wanted to ask what had happened to it, but couldn’t find the words.

  Lifting her head, she stared in the direction of where Callister had lain, but saw nothing and thought she’d gone blind for a moment, until she heard a voice and realized that Will Prentice wore all black and blocked her view of the steps of the hotel.

  Wyatt’s curse penetrated the fog surrounding her, and she found herself lifted into his arms.

  Closing her eyes against the dizziness, she became more aware of the voices around her, some she recognized from the ranch and others she didn’t.

  Even with her eyes closed and her face buried into Wyatt’s coat, Savannah saw nothing but the shocked look on Callister’s face when she’d killed him.

  * * * *

  Wyatt kept his body between Savannah and her uncle as he carried her into the hotel.

  Will led the way, pointing to a group of chairs in the lobby. “Why don’t you sit there with her? I’ll scrounge up some rooms.”

  Nodding his thanks, Wyatt sat, holding Savannah close. Closing his eyes, he saw her again, putting herself between him and Callister and drawing her gun. He knew the vision would give him nightmares for weeks to come.

  Pushing her hair back, he fisted a hand in it to pull her head back from his chest. “Honey, can you look at me?”

  She’d been too quiet ever since the shooting, and it scared the hell out of him. The tears wetting her cheeks scared him even more.

  “Savannah?”

  Holding on to his coat, she lifted her pain-filled eyes to his.

  “I killed him. I killed Callister.”

  Wyatt smiled and began to rock her. “No, you didn’t. He’s alive and on his way to the jail right now. The doc’ll see to him, and he can spend the next several years behind bars.”

  Savannah blinked and sat up, still weak enough to need his support.

  “No. I fired. I shot him.”

  Will came back with a handful of keys. Kneeling beside her, he grinned.

  “Honey, you couldn’t hit the side of a barn. You shot out the lamp at the end of the porch. Almost hit me. Got some room keys. We’ll all stay for the night and head home after the wedding tomorrow.”

  Wyatt bit back his jealousy when Savannah grabbed Will’s arm before the other man could rise.

  Her clumsy moveme
nts as she struggled to sit up tugged at Wyatt’s heart.

  “Are you sure? He’s not dead? I didn’t kill anyone?”

  Will chuckled, glancing at Wyatt. “Just a lamp. Of course, it could have been because Wyatt knocked you down.”

  To Wyatt’s horror, Savannah started to cry, her little body shaking and heaving with sobs.

  “Oh, hell.” Worried for Savannah, he cradled her close, absently noticing the stunned horror on Will’s face as he straightened and backed away, holding out his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

  “What did I say?”

  Pleased with his knowledge of his woman and the way her mind worked, he smiled up at Will in relief.

  “These are tears of relief that she didn’t kill that bastard.”

  Savannah nodded against his chest and cried harder. “Th–Thank G–God.”

  After several minutes of rocking her, Wyatt frowned when her tears didn’t ease. Worried that she would make herself sick, he met Will’s look of helpless frustration, feeling much the same way.

  With a conspiratorial smile, Wyatt continued to rub Savannah’s back, loving the feel of having her in his arms.

  “Of course I’m going to have to redden her bottom for this.”

  To his amusement—and relief—Savannah stilled, her sobs subsiding.

  Hiding a smile, Wyatt sat back, sharing a look with Hayes, who rushed toward them.

  “She deserves to be spanked for running away and for thinking she could face her uncle and Callister on her own.”

  Hayes opened his mouth to say something, but Wyatt shook his head, stopping him.

  “She was hysterical because she thought she killed Callister, and then started crying buckets when Will told her she hadn’t.”

  Hayes lifted a brow and nodded in understanding, but his eyes remained dark with concern.

  “She should be crying at the thought of being turned over my lap. I don’t know what kind of harebrained scheme she thought she was pulling, but not telling us about Callister was damned dangerous. Did she think we didn’t know about him? She must not have a hell of a lot of respect for what we do for a living.”