An Unlikely Lady

by Rachelle Morgan

  “So you see, Father, this has all just been a misunderstanding. Jesse has not compromised me or defiled me or done anything to harm me. If anything, it’s the other way around. I am the one who should be punished, not him.”

  Father Cooper leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his prominent chin. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” he mused aloud. “In the last three weeks, the two of you have been traveling alone, slept in houses of sin, engaged in premarital behavior, and deceived one another on more occasions than you can recall.”

  Having her many sins recapped made Honesty realize how compromising the situation sounded. She bowed her head in contrition. “Yes, Father.”

  Any moment, she expected him to toss her into the penance chamber alongside Jesse.

  The last thing she expected to hear was a bark of laughter. “Oh, there is justice in the world, after all!”

  She stared at the man in wonder. His grin stretched from ear to ear and his pale blue eyes sparkled with glee. “Tell me this, young lady. How has Jesse met the challenges posed upon the two of you?”

  The question took her off-guard. She knew her answer would mean the difference between Jesse spending the next thirty days imprisoned, or riding out of here a free man. But she could not, under any circumstances, bring herself to lie to a priest. “With honor and courage, though I’m afraid he has not always maintained his sense of humor.”

  That seemed to please the priest immensely, for his smile nearly stretched off his face. “Then there is only one way to rectify this situation.”

  Chapter 14

  “Married?” Jesse cried. “That’s your idea of rescue?”

  “Actually, it was Father Cooper’s,” came Honesty’s muffled reply from the other side of the door.

  “I’ll just bet it was,” he spat. Cooper was no doubt chortling with glee over his method of revenge. Jesse shoved one foot, then the other, through the leg of the trousers Honesty had stuffed through the window. “What exactly did you tell him?”

  “I only told him the truth: that we met at the Scarlet Rose, and you’re taking me as far as Texas. He seemed quite disturbed that I was traveling with you unchaperoned, especially when I . . . uhm, sort of mentioned that we’d been sleeping together.”

  “Damn it, Honesty, why did you have to tell him that?”

  “He’s a priest, Jesse. I couldn’t lie to him.”

  It never stopped her before, Jesse thought, rolling up the sleeves of the shirt he’d just put on.

  “When I explained the necessity of our journey, he said that he could not condone us traveling together unless we did so under the sanctity of marriage, and considering the circumstances, it’s his spiritual duty to see that you make an honest woman out of me.”

  Her voice was so prim and righteous, so . . . Cooper-like, that Jesse wanted to choke her. Make an honest woman of Honesty? He was a man, not a damned miracle worker. And why was he the one stuck paying for the actions of every other man who’d taken his pleasure with her? “Well, you can just forget it, Honesty. I’d rather be trampled by a herd of longhorns than marry you.”

  “What’s wrong with me? I’d make a fine wife!”

  “For someone else! You are reckless and unpredictable and impulsive. You disobey me at every turn, you argue with everything I say—”

  “All right!” she cut him off. “I get the picture. You don’t have anything against marriage, just marriage to me.”

  That wasn’t exactly true but he didn’t see any reason to discuss the issue.

  “But if you ask me, you don’t have much choice unless you’d prefer to spend the next thirty days locked up in here. It’s not like this would be a real marriage, anyway: just the appearance of one, and only for as long as it takes to have a judge reverse it.”

  “Annul it,” he absently corrected.

  “What?”

  “You can’t reverse vows, you annul them.”

  “You sound as if you’ve done it before.”

  No, but he’d come so damn close it was frightening.

  “Think of it this way, Jesse . . . you once let a man shoot you to save your life. Well, this is no different, except I’m the bullet.”

  A sudden image appeared in his mind, of Honesty as a bullet aiming straight for his heart. Except she wouldn’t miss. His throat closed and his skin went clammy. Jesse swallowed heavily. “I won’t marry you, Honesty.”

  His hoarse declaration hung in the air for several minutes before Honesty finally hissed, “Then stay here and repent of your sinful ways.”

  His eyes snapped open; his blood went cold. Here? In this cracker box? Thirty days and nights with nothing but the suffocating darkness and ghosts of the past for company? She wouldn’t . . . !

  She would.

  Jesse gritted his teeth and said, “Fetch the damn priest.”

  The ceremony binding Jesse “Jones” to Honesty “Mallory” was over in the blink of an eye, and before Honesty could even say farewell to their hosts, Jesse grabbed her by the hand and dragged her out of the chapel.

  “. . . Saddled with a damned wife,” she heard him mutter as they collected their mounts. “Next thing you know, I’ll be building picket fences and sowing crops for winter.”

  Honesty should have been used to such remarks by now. Jesse had been in a surly mood ever since she’d brought up marriage as a solution, and she’d been bearing the brunt of it for hours. But enough was enough. “You are not my ideal husband, either, you know. You’re bossy, you’re quarrelsome, and . . . and you snore!”

  He stopped in mid-mount to stare at her. “I do not snore.”

  “Oh, I beg your pardon. That’s just perpetual thunder that keeps me awake half the night.”

  He made a crude sound under his breath, then climbed into the saddle, leaving Honesty to fend for herself. She glared at his backside, then turned to her own horse and grabbed the saddle horn. She should have left him in the chamber to rot. But no, she’d felt sorry for him. Indebted to him.

  It took her several minutes of hopping and heaving before she finally managed to land in the saddle, but she did it, and, she thought with a smug smile, she’d done so without the scoundrel’s help.

  The darkness folded itself around them in an intimate embrace as they turned their horses toward the west. If necessity hadn’t set a slow pace, she wouldn’t have put it past Jesse to leave her eating his dust, but he had more concern for his horse than that. The night hid any number of dangers on the plains; all it would take was a careless step to ruin either of their animals.

  Unfortunately, caution gave Honesty too much time to reflect on the mess she’d made of her life. Like most women, she’d dreamed of the perfect wedding since she’d been a little girl. And as she’d grown older, she’d sworn that if she never did find a man brave enough to take her to wife, it would be a moment that would live on in her memory until they were old and gray.

  Well, this memory would live on, all right. She expected it to give her nightmares for the next twenty years.

  Once Jessie deemed they’d put enough distance between themselves and the mad missionaries, as he called them, they made camp on a flat patch of ground. Rocks hemmed them in on two sides. Jesse rarely chose spots out in the open; he’d told her that it left them too vulnerable to attack. From whom, Honesty didn’t need to ask. Her brush with Robert and Roscoe lay constantly at the back of her mind, as did the knowledge that if Jesse hadn’t come after her, she could very well be dead.

  They’d developed a routine over the last couple of weeks; while Jesse unsaddled the horses, Honesty fed them their oats and helped groom them. Then Jesse would start the fire while Honesty prepared coffee and gathered makings for the meal. Tonight it was cold chicken she’d gotten from Sister Agnes, cheese, and fresh bread, all of which tasted like paste.

  The silence between them stretched as vast and black as the sky above, and Honesty found that she missed the sizzling banter they’d once shared. She felt more alone now
than she had since the night she’d fled Salida, her father’s blood still on her hands, his final words echoing in her ears.

  From across the fire, she watched her reluctant husband as he alternated between drinking his coffee, taking deep draws from a cigarette, and staring broodingly into the jumping flames. Firelight and moondust collided across his skin, turning it the color of polished mahogany, highlighting the angles of his jaw and the hollows beneath his cheekbones. His hair had grown another couple inches in the last few weeks and fell loose and flowing around his shoulders. She remembered the silky feel of it between her fingers all too clearly. In fact, she remembered every single look, every touch, every kiss she’d received from him since the day they’d met.

  She sighed, and stirred the embers with a stick. She still found it hard to believe that she was actually married to this beautiful, remote man, even if the marriage was a sham. “Jesse?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Who is Miranda?” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity about the name he’d called her back at the mission.

  After a long pause that had Honesty wondering if he would even answer her, he said, “Someone I knew a long time ago.”

  “Is she the one who betrayed you?”

  Another long pause. “You ask too many questions.”

  “You once accused me of hiding something, but if you ask me, you’re the one who’s got something to hide.”

  “I didn’t ask you.” A flick of his cup sent the dregs of his coffee flying into the fire. “You should get some sleep,” he muttered. “We’ll be starting out early.”

  “I’m not sleepy.” It was her wedding night, for goodness sake! She should be slipping into something frothy and white and sipping wine by candlelight, preparing herself for a consummation that, by mutual agreement, would never happen between her and Jesse.

  “Mind too busy concocting more ways to make my life miserable?”

  “No busier than yours is trying to wreak misery on mine,” she shot back.

  He gave a mocking tip of his hat. “Just part of my job, ma’am.”

  “And what job is that, exactly?”

  “Why, keeping your little fanny safe from the likes of the charming Treat brothers. Isn’t that what got us into this mess?”

  The anger she’d tried so hard to keep in check began to bubble. “You act as if this is the worst thing that has ever happened to you. Well, let me tell you something, Mister, it isn’t. In fact, if you think about it, being married does have its advantages.”

  “Really,” he drawled. “Like what?”

  “Well, you always have someone to talk to.”

  “I’m a man, Honesty. Talking doesn’t rank high on our list of priorities.”

  “Okay, then. You always have someone who believes in you, who accepts you no matter what.”

  “That’s what mothers are for.”

  Honesty wouldn’t know, since she didn’t have a mother.

  She wracked her brain for another benefit of marriage, besides the obvious, of course. They both knew that sex could be had without vows. The only other thing she could come up with was the one closest to her heart. “You don’t ever have to be alone.”

  “I like being alone.”

  Honesty sighed. Obviously this was not a conversation to be having with him now. Or possibly ever. Good cow feathers, even her experiences with men up to this point hadn’t turned her off the idea of matrimony completely; it had simply taught her to be careful of her choices.

  Of course, those choices had been slim to none over the last few years. What man wanted “a saloon trollop” for a bride?

  Certainly not Jesse; he’d made that perfectly clear. It shouldn’t matter what he thought about her, but it did. Maybe it wouldn’t if she weren’t so blasted attracted to him. Even now, as he spread his bedroll on the ground, the graceful play of muscles had her heart thumping so loud she swore he could hear it. If he’d given the slightest indication that he wanted her in that bedroll with him, Honesty wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to deny him, despite the fact that he thought her a strumpet.

  What would he do if he knew the truth? What if she admitted that the night they’d supposedly spent together hadn’t really happened?

  No, she could never tell him that, because then she’d have to admit that she’d drugged him, and she didn’t think he’d take too kindly to hearing that. And then she’d have to tell him why, which would lead to more questions . . .

  But would that be so bad? Having him know everything there was to know? What was the worst thing that could happen?

  He’d never forgive her. Honesty knew it as surely as she knew her own name. Jesse could not tolerate betrayal of any kind; he’d shown her in all manner of ways—his hunt for her father, who had no doubt swindled him; his bitterness toward that Miranda woman; his constant demand for answers.

  No, best just to leave things as they were. She had to think of her own safety, after all. They’d reach Texas soon, have their marriage annulled, find her another guide, and they’d never have to see each other again. It was the best thing for both of them.

  So why did every mile toward the border give her such a hollow feeling inside?

  They set out the next morning before the dew evaporated, following a stretch of the Santa Fe Trail.

  Jesse kept his eyes on the horizon rather than on Honesty. Why he should feel guilty for keeping secrets from her, he couldn’t explain. He shared only his name with her now, and even that was a temporary arrangement thanks to Cooper. He didn’t owe her any explanations about Miranda.

  They stopped in Clayton long enough to buy supplies, then headed out again, reaching the Texas border around midday. Jesse’s spirits lifted the instant he stepped onto familiar ground. Some of his best and most rewarding work had been performed here. He’d exposed a ring of train bandits, sabotaged an assassination attempt on a government official, and most memorably, brought a crooked lawman to his knees and helped save the neck of a pretty little mustanger in the process.

  Thoughts of Annie put a smile on his face. She and her husband were probably the only two people in the world that he could trust without question, and they often gave him sanctuary when he was running dry.

  In some ways, Honesty reminded him of Annie. Both were survivors, both flouted adversity, and both were fiercely loyal to those they cared about.

  The big difference was, he’d never wanted Annie.

  But if Honesty had any idea how hard it had been keeping his hands off her last night, she’d probably chortle with glee.

  Of all the nights he’d spent alone, relishing his solitude, last night was not one of them. Never had he been more aware of the woman lying nearby, close enough to touch; what made it worse was that last night was his wedding night. What was it about her that sent his senses spinning and put his emotions in turmoil?

  Hell, maybe he should have bedded her and gotten her out of his system. Exercised his husbandly rights. Except, if he’d bedded Honesty last night, she might have gotten the idea that he wanted to make this a real marriage, and nothing could be further from the truth. As soon as he found a judge to undo the damage Cooper had done, he’d be a free man again.

  And Honesty, he realized with a heavy heart, would be a free woman.

  Chapter 15

  She was, without compare, the most stunningly beautiful woman Honesty had ever seen. She rode a pale brown horse inside a circular pen to the delight of two little girls standing on the fence. Her long blond hair had been caught into a ponytail high up at her crown, and the straight, silky hair brushed the curve of her bottom. Her skin was tanned golden by the sun, her eyes were as blue as the sky, and her face looked as if it had been sculpted by angels in heaven.

  “Is she your sister?” Honesty asked. She and Jesse shared a slight resemblance, with their fair hair and slender builds, but the resemblance ended there.

  “Something like that.”

  A stab of jealousy drove itself into her heart at the
unconcealed adoration in his voice. It didn’t make any sense. Of course Jesse would have known other people. Other women. She just hadn’t expected to come face to face with one of them.

  “Uncle Jesse!”

  Honesty tore her attention from the woman on horseback as one of the flaxen-haired little girls threw herself at Jesse. He caught her up in his arms and smothered her chubby face with sloppy kisses.

  The second one squealed with all the excitement of a three-year-old, and followed in her sister’s wake. “Unca Jesse!” He caught her up in his other arm, and the sight of him holding the children unexpectedly swelled her heart.

  “Mama, Uncle Jesse’s here!”

  “Jesse, you old scoundrel!”

  Honesty glanced up just as the woman climbed over the fence. She had to turn her face away so she wouldn’t have to watch the woman embracing Jesse. Or Jesse embracing her back.

  “What brings you out this way?” the woman asked when he set her back on her feet.

  “I’m hoping I can charm you into keeping Gem for a while and let me borrow a couple of fresh mounts.”

  “You could charm the skin off a snake.”

  “Everyone’s got his talents.”

  Honesty couldn’t decide what irked her more: the stupid grin on Jesse’s face as he looked at Annie, or the obvious affection and respect between them. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady friend?”

  He looked at her as if just then remembering her presence. “Of course. Honesty, Annie Corrigan. Annie, this is—”

  “Jesse’s wife,” Honesty supplied.

  Surprised blue eyes snapped to Jesse. “Wife?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  Honesty ignored his warning glower, summoned a polite smile, and stuck out her hand. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure,” Annie countered. “Wait’ll you get to know me, then be the judge.”

  “Uncle Jesse, did you bring us a present?”