Chase dropped to the ground, retching the smoke from his lungs and taking in deep draughts of clean air. He took the cup of water Pratt offered and poured it down his raw, burning throat.
When he had recovered enough to move, he crawled on hands and knees to where Elliot worked over Libby. Her eyes were closed. Except for the labored rise and fall of her chest, she looked frighteningly still. Her pale face was stained with soot and blood.
"El?" Chase croaked.
"She's alive," he answered. "But she took in a lot of smoke. Her breathing's not too good."
"She was on the floor. She's not gonna"—his voice cracked with emotion—"she'll be all right won't she, El?"
El's answering look was grim. He tipped Libby's chin sideways so Chase could see the bruise on the side of her cheek, then dabbed at it with a wad of lint dipped in water. "It looks like she was hit with something. Right now I can't say if it's the blow, or the smoke inhalation that's keeping her unconscious." Gently, he cleaned the nasty bruise forming on her cheek. "This I can treat. Her lungs... we'll just have to see." He looked away from Chase and yelled, "Somebody get me some blankets."
Damn Bodine, Damn him to hell!
Chase leaned close to Libby's face, pressing his lips against her sooty skin willing her to absorb his strength. "Don't die. Please, don't die. I love you, Libby. Do you hear me?" He pulled the two blankets Early brought up under her chin and tucked them gently around her sides. "I love you."
"Ma!" Tad tore up to them and slid to his knees on the ground beside his mother. "Mama! Is she—?"
"She's alive, Tadpole. But she breathed in a lot of smoke."
Tad's face bunched up with emotion and he slammed pitifully into Chase's shoulder, wrapping his arms around Chase's neck. Tears erupted now and Tad's small chest was racked by sobs. "It's all... my fault."
Chase's arms tightened around the boy. "What are you talking about? Don't even think that, Tad. It's not your fault. Your ma—"
"No!" Tad argued, mashing his forehead against Chase's wet shirt. "I was so mean and... and hateful after you left. She tried to... t-tell me about you." He hiccoughed on a breath. "About why she... loved you, but I just g-got... mad at her. I'm s-so... sorry."
"I know, son," Chase soothed, rubbing the back of Tad's neck. "I'm sorry, too. But none of this had anything to do with you. I didn't blame you for being mad at me and neither did your ma. Your ma loves you so much... she's gonna be all right." She has to be.
"P-promise?"
Chase nodded silently, dropping his cheek to Tad's shoulder. But he'd never been less sure of a vow in his life.
Behind them, the house was engulfed in flames. From the back of it came the crash of collapsing walls. The crowd of guests stood back and simply watched, having given up trying to fight the inferno any longer. Smoke and ash floated like specters in the air.
Libby's eyes fluttered open and she sucked in a lungful of fresh air and coughed. How it burned! Her head ached fiercely and her eyes stung. But she was alive. And right there was the man she loved holding her son. It was a sight she'd never thought to see and one that made her heart clench with joy.
Chase and Tad turned to her as one and stared.
"Libby?"
"Ma?"
She coughed again and managed a wan smile for them both. Her fingers curled weakly around Chase's and her eyes were lined with tears. "I didn't think... I'd see either one of you again."
"Mama..." Tad threw himself against her and held her tight.
Chase's lips caressed the back of her sooty hand. "Thank God... thank God."
The choking fire, the struggle with Trammel—all came back to her in a fearful rush. "Bodine—" she rasped, trying to sit up. "Chase, he tried to—"
"He's dead. He can't hurt us anymore, Lib." He glanced toward Harper's inert body only a few feet away. "Jonas is dead, too. Bodine shot him." Chase stroked her palm with his thumb.
She felt a pang of regret about Jonas, but her pity was reserved for Nora who now sat beside her brother's body. Dear Nora. She didn't deserve Jonas's betrayal any more than I did, Libby thought bitterly. But there would be time enough later to mourn Jonas's treachery. Moments had suddenly become too precious. The boy and man beside her were all that mattered.
Chase's hair was a wet tangle and his skin was dark with grimy smoke. His face showed the ravages of the fight he'd had with Jonas and of his worry about her. She ignored the curious stares of some of the guests who'd gathered nearby. She felt no shame about her love for Chase. Let them think what they would.
She reached up and lovingly ran a finger along his bruised cheek. "You brought me out." It wasn't a question. She knew the answer already in her heart. "Thank you."
"Ah, Libby, I love you... don't you know that by now? When I thought you might—" He broke off, clearing the knot of emotion from his voice. "I'm never leaving you again, you hear? You can argue about the right and wrong of it 'til hell freezes over, but I'm staying right here."
She drew his battered hand to her lips and kissed it. "Inside the house... when it was burning around me... I kept thinking how wrong I'd been about us. How, if I could only tell you I love you, Chase," she whispered, looking up into his eyes. "I love you so much."
Heedless of the crowd gathering behind them, Chase dipped his head and his mouth briefly settled over hers. Their lips met with all the tenderness brimming in their hearts.
She tasted smoke on his lips.
He tasted promise on hers.
"And as soon as you're on your feet again, you're going to marry me, Lib," he told her, gathering her in his arms.
"Yes," was all she could say. She hugged him, knowing she'd be holding on to his strength for years to come and cherishing the gentle fierceness in him that had captured her heart.
A high-pitched whinny came from close by. Libby looked over Chase's shoulder to see the black stallion prancing nervously between the paddocks. Diablo. "Chase, what in the world—? Where's Blue?"
His arms tightened around her. "I... lost him coming over the mountains." He nodded toward the stallion. "That's our future you're looking at, honey. Diablo's going to sire the finest horses this country's ever seen for the Double Bar H."
She pulled back to look at his face. "But how did you...?"
He shrugged, still not quite believing it himself. "One refugee to another, I guess. We sort of came to a mutual understanding. But it's a long story for another time."
"We'll have plenty of that," she promised, smiling. "Years and years."
"And I intend to spend every one of them proving how much I love you." He kissed her again, then opened his embrace to include Tad, drawing him inside the circle of their love. Whatever they had to face, they'd face it together—as a family.
"Let's go home," he said, lifting her into the cradle of his arms.
Libby wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, love," she answered. "Home."
Epilogue
Summer passed into autumn, turning the valley from verdant green to burnished gold. In the distance, the slopes of the Sangre de Cristos were a patchwork of color: golden aspen, the evergreen spruce and juniper and cottonwoods garbed in vermilion.
The early November air held the crisp hint of winter, the sky, the promise of early snow. Chase rubbed his gloved hands together, walked the perimeter of the grassy rooftop and inspected his work. He'd finished replacing the old roof with new wood, first stripping and then replacing its covering of sod. The new rye seed was already thick and green from the fall rains, anchoring the soil.
He bent down and worked a circle of holes into the soft soil with the tip of his finger. Then, dipping into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of flower seeds Nora had given him before she and Elliot had left for a visit to Baltimore—a surprise for Libby when spring thawed the land. Carefully he planted them in the rich earth and covered them over.
A wave of contentment passed over him as he stood and looked out over the flat sweep of New Mexico Territory which he and
Libby called their own. Never in his wildest imaginings, had he envisioned this kind of happiness for himself. He had a wife who loved him beyond anything he had a right to expect, a son any man could be proud of and a patch of ground which, for the first time in his life, he could call home. His chest tightened as he mentally gathered up his blessings and held them close.
"Admiring the view, or your handiwork?"
Chase pivoted to see Libby climbing onto the roof from the wide wooden ladder at the side of the house. She was wearing the knowing grin she always wore when she knew something he did not.
He smiled and drew her into his arms as she came close. It was a gesture he rarely resisted and one she never objected to. "Both," he answered. "Although I must admit, I fixed the roof for purely selfish reasons."
"Oh?" Libby turned playfully in his arms until her back was against his chest and she looked out toward the horses grazing in their pastures.
"Yes, well," he went on with a smile, "with winter coming, I figured the less attention you had to give to all those water-catching bowls and falling mud pies, the more time you'd have for me."
"You did, did you?"
"Um-hmm." He nuzzled her flaxen hair, taking in her familiar scent. "What brings you up here? I thought you were putting up the last of the pumpkin from the garden."
"I was." She pulled an envelope from her pocket. "I thought you might like to see what Early and Tad brought back from town."
Chase looked at the return address on the letter. "Dr. and Mrs. Elliot Bradford. I'll have to get used to that." With one arm still anchored firmly around Libby, he tore open the envelope and scanned the contents of the letter, grinning from ear to ear. "He says our sister,Violet, adores Nora and they're trying to convince her to come out here to live with them in New Mexico. But of course, Violet is being Violet, as stubborn and independent as ever. El's secretly worried about what will become of her when he and Nora return." He looked at Libby. "I'll write to her. Invite her here, too, if that's all right with you."
"More than all right. I'd love to get to know the infamous Violet." Libby grinned. "And I miss Nora and El," she admitted. "Family should be together."
"Well, you won't have to wait for long," he added, continuing his perusal of the letter."According to this, El and Nora will be back in time for Christmas."
Chase gave her a kiss. "Soon we'll be overrun with company." Dipping down once more to taste her, his lips reclaimed hers. Her mouth on his kindled the fire that had only grown hotter between them over the months.
With great restraint, Chase pulled back and smiled down at her. "I love you, Lib. And my sister will love you. But if you're not careful, I'm gonna have to love you right up here on the roof."
She took hold of the lapels of his sheepskin coat and grinned enticingly up at him. "Would that be so awful?"
His brows rose fractionally and a predatory look lit his eyes. "Ah, Mrs. Whitlaw. You are a wild woman. I do like the way your mind works." His lips captured hers again, while his hand found its way beneath her wool coat to the curve of a breast, caressing its fullness.
"Perhaps we should make the best of our time. After all," she murmured, "I won't be able to climb up ladders too much longer."
"No?" he asked distractedly, searing a trail of kisses down her slender neck. "Why's that?"
"I expect I'll be too fat."
"You? Fat?" He resumed his exploration of the tender skin behind her ear. "Never."
"Oh, yes. I will be," she assured him. "Fat and awkward and terribly happy."
Chase's face went utterly blank for a moment as he pulled back to look at her, trying to comprehend her meaning.
"In fact, you should have just enough time to build on that extra room we've talked about, off the—"
"Libby!" He took her by the shoulders. "By God! Do you mean what... what I think you mean?"
She bit the edge of her lip, suddenly shy and nodded. "It'll be June, by my calculations."
Chase's gaze flew to her still-flat stomach, then back up to her face. Words stuck in his throat when he tried to speak. "A baby... Libby... are... are you sure?"
"A woman knows these things."
Reverently, his hand slid down to her belly and rested over the spot where their child grew. Words failing him, he scooped her into his arms and spun her around with a hearty laugh.
Libby laughed, too and hugged him tightly. "So you're happy?"
"Happy?" A sly grin crossed his face. With infinite care, he lowered her to the grass carpet that covered the roof and captured her beneath him. "Shall I show you just how happy I am, wife?"
She feigned a shocked expression. "But Mr. Whitlaw! What if someone sees us?"
"Up here?"
"It's a big country," she reminded him.
He kissed the tip of her nose. "As a matter of fact, you're right. Besides I have it in mind to have you entirely to myself... under a nest of warm blankets, by the light of a crackling fire."
"Ma?" Tad's voice intruded from below.
Libby smiled and closed her eyes. "My point exactly."
"Have you told him yet?" Chase asked.
"I thought we should tell him together."
He rolled off her and tenderly lifted her to her feet. Glancing briefly at the dented soil where he'd planted the wildflower seeds, Chase smiled secretly, imagining all the new beginnings the summer would bring.
"C'mon, Mrs. Whitlaw," he said. "Let's go tell our son he's about to become a brother."
The End
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Want more from Barbara Ankrum?
Here's an excerpt from
THE LADY TAKES A GUNSLINGER
Wild Western Rogues Series
Book One
~
"I'm a wanted man," Reese said. "There's a price on my head and yours, if you stay with me."
"Not here. Not in Mexico."
"Is this what you want, Grace?" he asked. "A life on the run as a fugitive? You need a man who can settle down, ply a decent trade, father a house full of children for you, who never has to look over his shoulder. You've got a farm, a home. Don't be throwin' it away on the likes of me."
"I don't care about that."
His gaze didn't waver from hers. "That's a bloody lie."
It was impossible to hide the truth from him. She wanted all those things. With him. "But if we cleared your name—"
"Even assuming Sanders has given up for now and hasn't followed us here, the second I set foot in the U.S. you can be sure I'm a dead man."
"That can't be true. I'll see the governor or the president or whoever I have to. I know people in Washington. What's happened to you is a travesty."
His expression grew grim. "Let it go." He touched her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "If I'd met you before, if things had been different..."
She edged closer so she could look him in the eye. "What? You'd let yourself love me?"
"That won't happen. It'll never happen. Do you understand?"
"No. Reese, all these years you've let them convince you that you were nothing. Worthless. You let them drive you to a bottle. But that's not you. The man I know," she said, touching his arm, "is brave, honorable, caring."
"No," he said, edging away from her. "I'm none of those things. I've killed men for reasons of my own and before I'm done, there's yet another I intend to put an end to."
"Jake Scully?"
"Aye, as soon as I find him," he admitted. "I'm goin' down, Grace, whether Sanders tracks me or not. But I'll say th
is. I've found enough good in myself not to take you down to hell with me."
Unsure of what else to say, she stared at him, a lump rising in her throat.
"I'll take you to Querétaro and take a stab at rescuing your brother. But after that, princess, I'll be sayin' goodbye."
Grace pulled the blanket around her, suddenly shivering with cold. She couldn't say good-bye to him. Not next week, not in a hundred years. "Then we'll face that when it comes." Her eyes implored him. "We've so little time and we've wasted so much already. Don't leave me yet, Reese. Just for now, let's just pretend there is no bounty on your head, no one to rescue, no past to haunt us. For now, let's pretend there's only you and me. And that we love each other."
The ragged rise and fall of his chest betrayed the conflict raging inside him. He reached out and cupped her jaw in his hand. He covered her mouth in a heated kiss. When it ended, he hissed out a breath and closed his eyes. "God, you tempt me, woman."
Looping her arms around his neck, she let the blanket fall away as she climbed onto his lap. "After all, you can only ruin me once."
He rocked his hips against hers. "Ah, is that what you've heard?" A soft breath escaped his lips. "Ruination has a million paths leading to its door," he warned against the tender skin of her throat.
"Perhaps," she suggested, catching his attention fully with a well-placed caress near the valley of his hips, "we should explore a new one."
~
To purchase
The Lady Takes A Gunslinger
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Barbara Ankrum's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/BarbaraAnkrum
~
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In another life, Barbara Ankrum was a successful commercial actress in Hollywood, going on auditions while she and her husband raised their two children. At some point, on the way to an audition apparently, it occurred to her that in order to get her creative life in hand, she ought to write a novel. This epiphany sprang directly from her love of romance novels and an obsession with all things Western. After selling the first book, a Western historical, she left casting directors behind and never looked back.
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