To Marry a Texas Outlaw

by Linda Broday

  Luke couldn’t deny that he mattered to them, really mattered deep down inside where it counted most.

  “I hope you know what you’re asking for.” Luke reached into an inside pocket and pulled out his book of sins. He stared at it a long moment before handing it over. Swallowing, he slid his Colt from the holster and stared at the name scratched into the handle—Legend.

  Yearning rose up so thick it almost choked him.

  One day, he vowed. One day.

  Twenty-five

  A god-awful racket came from upstairs. Luke and Houston rushed from the office, meeting Sam and their father in the hall. Without warning, a black fur ball streaked past and flew into the parlor.

  Rowdy followed, barking fit to raise Methuselah from the grave.

  Luke rushed after them and found Rafael, hissing and clinging to the top of the very expensive drapes. The cat’s sharp claws had shredded the delicate fabric.

  Sounds of laughter behind made him turn. He found Sam and Houston bent double. Even Stoker appeared amused.

  Luke scowled. “What’s so funny?”

  Houston wiped his eyes. “Your face. You didn’t know what to do. Probably for the first time in your life, the famed outlaw didn’t know whether to hightail it or try to hide the evidence.”

  “Glad I can entertain you.” Luke stared at the ruined drapes and then at the damn cat.

  “This house hasn’t seen this much activity in many moons.” Stoker barked a laugh. He glanced at Sam. “Remember the raccoon you snuck inside when you were six or seven?”

  That set off a new round of laughter. Luke wondered what it was about. He didn’t see anything funny.

  At last, Sam said, “Yep. Mother was fit to be tied when she saw the mess in her clean kitchen. Flour, sugar, eggs, cornmeal, and no telling what else covered everything.”

  “She grabbed the broom and started swatting at the coon,” Houston said, picking up the tale. “She broke plates and lamps and everything else, trying to hit the thing. The coon fled up the stairs then fell into the chandelier below, clinging to it for dear life. I don’t remember how we got it down and out of the house.”

  “I do. I had hell accomplishing that,” Stoker admitted. “I had to bring in a ladder and pry the coon’s hands loose.”

  Josie ran into the room, saw the drapes, and froze. She clasped a hand over her mouth. “What have I done? I didn’t know they’d hate each other this bad.”

  Stoker laid an arm across her shoulders. “Don’t fret, my dear. I’ve been meaning to replace those old curtains. This just gives me an excuse.”

  Somehow, Luke knew his father was fibbing and he found that tidbit at odds with his long-held notions about the man who’d fathered him. Maybe Stoker Legend wasn’t as big a mystery as he’d thought. He was a man with a bigger heart. The more Luke stayed around him, the more the blinders slipped, giving him a glimpse of the man his mother had loved so much.

  Sam picked up Rowdy and ordered the dog to hush. Rowdy promptly licked his face, growling at the cat between licks.

  Houston looked at Luke. “One of us has to get the cat.”

  With a sigh, Luke gave up. “Where’s your ladder?”

  “I’m sorry, Luke,” Josie said. “I thought they’d get along.”

  “I think this means you’ve never owned animals, at least ones so totally different. Cats and dogs have always hated the sight of each other.” Luke moved to the door.

  “I was sure they’d be friends,” she moaned.

  “When we first met, I thought Newt Granger and I would be friends too,” Stoker said. “Now look at us. You never can tell.”

  Apparently about friends or fathers either, Luke thought as he went for the ladder. Some things surprised the hell out of a man.

  Like Stoker no longer hiding the fact that Luke was his son—despite the ramifications sure to follow. That his father was willing to stand by his side made him struggle to find that hard, callous creed that had served him well.

  * * *

  That afternoon, following a long nap, Josie sat on the wide porch with Rafael in her lap. She gazed out over the ranch and wished she had something similar waiting for her. Only she knew she didn’t. She didn’t have to be blessed with a gift for knowing to realize that. Whoever her father was, he was nothing but a scoundrel. Sorrow filled her.

  A soft, cooling breeze caressed her face. She loved it here and she knew Luke did too, even though he hadn’t said as much. She’d seen the yearning in his eyes when they’d ridden beneath the huge crossbar. If only he’d take what they wanted to give, but something wouldn’t let him.

  Was it that his mother hadn’t gotten the chance to live here? Was that why Luke would also deny himself?

  Maybe accepting it would make him feel he’d betrayed her.

  No more complicated, stubborn man ever existed on the face of the earth. She doubted she’d ever understand Luke Weston completely.

  A wagon pulled to a stop and Houston took a little girl from a pretty, red-haired woman and helped her down. His wife and child. Josie was glad he’d brought them.

  Josie stood and went down the steps. Houston put his arm around his wife’s waist; her body had barely begun to thicken. “Meet my wife, Lara.” With the beam still plastered on his face, he held up the child. “And this is Gracie Jewel Legend.”

  His pride and love clearly showed in the way he looked at both wife and daughter. Houston had what Josie yearned for, but was beyond reach. The only man she wanted to make babies with didn’t want her.

  “She’s adorable.” Josie touched Gracie’s soft cheek and the girl gave her a grin that revealed two glistening teeth.

  Lara laughed. “Gracie’s a handful. After trying to keep up with her all day, I fall into bed exhausted at night.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Houston said. “Most nights my wife is asleep long before I am. To give her a break, I often take Gracie for a ride over the ranch. She loves being on the back of a horse.”

  “Horsy,” Gracie said, squirming and pointing to the team.

  “The ranch hands just love her.” Lara wiped slobber from her daughter’s chin. “If they’re not too busy, they take her with them. They think she’s the best thing to happen at the Lone Star except rain.”

  “Well, I can see why.” Josie noticed a long scar running down one side of Lara’s face. Though the line had faded, it must’ve been gruesome when it was fresh. What had happened? For someone to do that, they must’ve been crazed.

  “Let’s go inside,” Josie said. “I’ll make some tea.”

  “Nope. Cook will make us tea,” Lara corrected, laughing. “She won’t let us anywhere near the stove. I know. I’ve tried.”

  “Can I hold Gracie?” Josie asked as the kitten scampered around her feet.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Houston passed the child to her and told Lara he’d be back to get them in a while.

  Gracie twisted to see the cat. She pointed her finger at Rafael, jabbering something, evidently scolding him.

  “Kitty,” Josie said. “Can you say kitty?”

  Lara held the door. “She hasn’t learned that word yet. If it’s not a horsy or her daddy, she pretty much babbles.” Lara pushed back a gorgeous copper strand. “Lord, how she loves her daddy. And he worships her. I’m a lucky, lucky woman. I asked for so little and I got the whole world.”

  The baby squirmed, trying to get down. Josie sat her on the floor with a cookie. Soon she was crawling fast, trying to catch Rafael. They shut the door so she couldn’t get out and let her play. The kitten would keep her entertained.

  As they waited on their tea, Lara briefly told Josie her own story, a sign of trust. A horrible outlaw had come to her father’s ranch and caught her in the barn. When she’d fought back, he’d viciously attacked her and sliced her face.

  “The folks in t
own turned their backs on me, saying I asked for it.” The pretty woman’s fingers drifted to the scar. “When Gracie was born, that gave the gossipmongers even more fuel.”

  Lara spoke of how Stoker had played a trick on Houston to get him to marry her—just to give Gracie a name. Listening to the story, Josie found herself fighting back tears. Though she’d deeply admired Houston from the first, now she saw inside and the depth of his huge heart. He’d not only given his name to another man’s child, he loved Gracie with every fiber of his being.

  Cook brought their tea and Josie filled their cups. “I can’t begin to understand why you had to endure so much to finally get the man of your dreams.”

  “No risk, no reward.” Lara accepted the steaming tea. “Houston told me how Luke found you. I think it would be terrifying to lose who you are.”

  “More than anyone knows. But Luke is so kind. Everyone is.”

  Lara ran her finger around the rim of her saucer. “Luke is a very special man. I saw that on the cattle trail. My heart breaks for him.”

  “Mine too. I wish he could find a bit of peace.”

  “He will. Houston thinks you can help with that.” Lara got up to rescue poor Rafael from Gracie’s rough clutches. The cat might not be the same after the babe got through with him.

  Josie brought her focus back to Lara’s statement. “I don’t know how in the world I can possibly help. Luke has ideas I can’t change.”

  Lara winked. “There are ways, Josie. I can tell he means a lot to you. I’ve learned what ignoring Houston can do—that gets his attention awfully fast. Try that. Make him a little jealous. Show him that other men find you interesting to be around. Just don’t be afraid to reach for what you want.”

  Thankfully, Josie caught the snort in time. She wasn’t the least bit timid in showing, or telling, Luke anything.

  The problem, it seemed, was getting the damn man to pay any attention. She leaned forward. “Share more of your ideas.”

  * * *

  After a good night’s sleep underneath his mother’s portrait, Luke spent the morning with Noah while he waited for Josie to finish getting ready to leave. Luke carried the boy down to the shade of the porch and began telling him everything he knew about the Lone Star.

  “The tall flag’s my favorite of all,” Noah said after he finished. “I watch it from my window.” He squinted at Luke. “I want to grow up to be like my pa and Stoker. I’ll do my part someday to make Texas better. It’s in my blood.”

  Luke reached to ruffle the kid’s hair. “I believe that. Texas is in my blood too. I’ve ridden all over and there’s nowhere better.”

  Only what good had Luke done other than ridding Texas of a few bad seeds? That appeared to sum it up. Far too little.

  They talked more, and when Noah became tired, Luke carried him back to his room then returned to the porch to wait.

  When at last Josie stepped from headquarters, Luke stood, his breath trapped in his chest. She was so beautiful it hurt to draw in air. Her dress, the color of a deep pool of spring-fed water, appeared spun from his dreams. With her honey-blond curls spilling down her back and shoulders, Miss Josie Morgan created quite a vision.

  Memories of making love to her swept over him. The night he’d kissed and touched every inch of her beautiful body.

  If only he was free to tell her what she meant to him. But for what reason? Things were best for them both this way. He remembered the nightmare and premonition so strong in his dream.

  Striding to her, he drawled, “I’ve never seen you all decked out, Josie. Ol’ Newt won’t know what hit him. You’ll have him tongue-tied and stammering like a schoolboy.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She glanced up at him and he found it difficult to keep his train of thought on the tracks.

  Thick lashes framed her eyes, and something about the light made them a shade he’d never seen before. They reminded him of the sky at sunset. His attention drifted to her softly parted mouth, those enticing lips that could ignite searing flames inside him.

  She continued as though she had no idea what she did to him. “I’ll try to get as much information as I can for you and your family. Everyone has been so kind to me, even though they don’t have to.” She flicked her tongue across her silky bottom lip as though hesitant to voice her thoughts. “I wish you and I could go back to the way things were at Doan’s Crossing.”

  Her soft plea, her hand clutching his arm, made it impossible to swallow. My God, how he wished they could. Memories washed over him of holding her in his arms, exploring her curves, and praying the morning would never come. They would remain with him for the rest of his life.

  Instead of answering, Luke said softly, “I still think it’s too risky for you to go. You need—”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “The list of things I need is lengthy—to remember who I am, to know where I belong, to feel you lying next to me, holding me while I sleep.” Her voice broke. She glanced away for a second. When she turned back, her eyes bore a layer of frost, as did her tight words. “Don’t try to pretend you care about me. You don’t get to have things both ways. I’m not some toy to fill your time with and then toss aside when you grow tired.”

  The tilt of her chin warned him to keep silent. Yet, anger colored his words as well. “I’m doing the best I can, giving all that I’m able to at the moment.”

  Her hand flexed and for a second he thought she’d slap him.

  “Don’t expect me to wait around, Luke Weston. I’m not going to moss over waiting for you to figure out if I’m worth having.” The maddening woman whirled, snapped open a white frilly parasol, and marched toward the one-horse buggy that would carry her to Granger’s land. Her back was as stiff as her resolution.

  She’d ride into danger over his dead body.

  Luke strode to his saddled gelding. And for the record, he wasn’t pretending to care. That wasn’t something he could fake. Not by a long shot. He’d tried.

  Knowing Josie Morgan had wiggled under his skin was one thing. Doing something about it was quite another.

  Stoker waved as they rode out. Luke nodded back and set his horse into a trot beside Josie. His worst secrets wouldn’t be safe if he let his father get close, he told himself.

  What would Stoker think of having a jailbird and opium freak for a son? It would kill Luke to see his father’s eyes harden to hate, especially now after saying that he loved him. Stoker and his brothers were his last chance at something meaningful.

  Even so, the cash Stoker had given him for the trip burned in his pocket, reminding him that he was again beholden, that he had nothing to offer Josie or any woman.

  To rid himself of his dark thoughts, Luke rode alongside the buggy. Even if Josie vented more anger and hurt, it was better than this.

  But he couldn’t recall her ever being so quiet. She didn’t utter more than a few words during the ride. Wouldn’t even look at him directly. Guilt weighed him down. He called himself every name he could think of, and when he ran out, he made up a few more.

  It was well past dark when they reached Medicine Springs. A dog barked when they walked the horses past the Lucky Lady Saloon. Luke noticed the way Josie caught her bottom lip between her teeth and stared at the Lucky Lady. She still must have felt a connection with the establishment. Heaven help her if she did anything foolish.

  He saw only one half-decent hotel in the whole blamed town. He dismounted. “Hold Major John’s reins tight and wait here. I’ll ask about a room. Don’t loosen your grip for a moment or I’ll never get the horse out of the saloon.”

  “Don’t worry.” Josie wrapped the reins around her hand and dabbed her weary face with a lacy handkerchief.

  As he moved away, she said, “Luke?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you came with me.”

  With a nod, he strolled inside. The s
leepy-eyed clerk said he had only one vacancy. “Fine. I’ll take it for the lady outside.”

  After signing the registration book and clutching the key, he tied the horses securely to the hitching rail until he got Josie settled.

  Luke juggled her satchel under one arm. With Josie’s hand around the other, he escorted her up the stairs.

  Moments later, he set her bag inside the door. “I’ll take the horses to the livery. You’ll be safe here.” He gave her his sternest look. “Stay put.”

  “I’m too tired to do anything else. Where is your room?”

  “Don’t have one. I’m sleeping in front of your door.”

  “No. We’ll share this room,” she insisted.

  The images that flooded his mind brought sudden hunger. How in blue blazes could he sleep only feet away, listening to her soft breathing, smelling her fragrance, seeing her form beneath the sheet in the dim room? Bad idea. He didn’t possess the kind of strength it would take to resist her pull.

  “We’ll discuss it when I get back.” He quietly closed the door behind him and all he wished he could claim.

  Twenty-six

  Luke shouldn’t have been surprised to find the room empty when he returned. Still, finding her gone sent shock through him with the speed of a bullet. He tried to still his rapid heartbeat.

  He’d really thought she’d listen this time.

  Where could she have gone? One place leapt to mind.

  He stormed downstairs, waking the clerk, who gave him the evil eye. He’d apologize later. Right now, he needed to head off trouble.

  Josie in pants with her hair up under her hat was far different from Josie in a beautiful dress, her silken hair curling around her face. He fought to breathe. A man would give anything to run his fingers through that hair and down her body.

  Sweat broke out on Luke’s forehead. Dammit to hell.

  The Lucky Lady was even busier than it had been before, cowboys spending hard-earned money on a lucky throw of the dice or maybe cards. The liquor was flowing freely from what he could tell as he pushed through the doors.