Just West of Heaven

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Just West of Heaven Page 26

by Maureen Child


  Sniffing loudly, the judge then turned to face Ridge and Sophie. “The court finds Jenna Hawkins to be the natural and legal daughter of Ridge and Sophie Hawkins. Charles Vinson has no claim to the child. And if he makes a move on her, he ought to be shot on sight.”

  A roar erupted from the crowd as the judge slammed that gavel down one more time and shouted, “Case dismissed. Court’s closed, bar’s open! Give me a drink.”

  Slowly, as if he couldn’t believe it was over, Ridge stood up and pulled Sophie into his arms for a squeeze hard enough to keep her from drawing a single breath. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and as Ridge bent his head to claim a long, deep kiss she felt a rush of gratitude and love sweep through her.

  Then their friends were surrounding them, pulling them apart to congratulate them. People crowded close, everyone talking at once. Sophie was pushed from embrace to embrace, spinning from one friend to the next as she laughingly accepted their good wishes and tried desperately to think of a way to thank them all for what they’d done.

  A few minutes later, she found herself on the opposite side of the room from Ridge. She watched as he grinned and yanked Hattie into a heartfelt hug that lifted the big woman clean off her feet.

  But Sophie’s smile froze in place as a sharp, stabbing pain sliced through her mind. She cupped her head in her hands and closed her eyes tight, riding the wave of pain and helplessly watching as a vision blossomed in her mind’s eye.

  Charles. He had Jenna, and the child was screaming. Toby lay stretched out on the ground, motionless, while Charles threw Jenna across a saddle in front of him. Helplessly, Sophie watched Ridge try to stop him and she saw a black swirl of danger surround the man she loved.

  Terror closed her throat and clawed at her heart. She opened her eyes and didn’t even see the people standing in front of her. Gasping for air, she blinked the mental images aside and, throwing one last glance at Ridge, pushed her way through the crowd toward the door. She couldn’t risk his safety. She couldn’t ask him to fight one more battle for her. He’d already sacrificed his professional pride and his self-respect. She wouldn’t let him lay down his life. This time the fight was hers. She would save Jenna and she would defeat Charles. No matter what.

  Outside, she hiked the hem of her skirt up and ran down the center of the deserted street, her gaze fixed on the distant stable, where she knew Charles and Jenna waited.

  ●

  The babble of excited voices was almost deafening, but even with the outside distraction, he heard Jenna call him. Instantly, his head came up and his gaze swept the sea of faces, searching for Sophie. But she was gone. As was Charles.

  Jenna’s silent shriek echoed in his mind again and this time Ridge didn’t hesitate. Shoving past his friends and neighbors, he crashed through the crowd, ran through the front door and hit the boardwalk running.

  ●

  Jenna’s cries tore at Sophie as she ran into the stable and tripped over Toby’s body, lying in the straw. On hands and knees, she stared at the big man, horrified, until she saw his massive chest move and she knew he was hurt, but alive.

  The solid smack of a slap slashed the silence and Jenna moaned. Sophie’s head whipped around as the sound pushed her to her feet and she raced to the back of the livery. Charles had a horse nearly saddled. Jenna sat in a mound of straw, holding one hand to her face. She struggled to her feet as Sophie rushed into the stall.

  He made a grab for the girl, but he was too far away and not nearly quick enough. Sophie snatched at her little sister and shoved her into the wide center aisle. “Run, Jenna,” she cried frantically. “Run.”

  The girl took off, her short legs pumping wildly as she made a break for the sunshine beyond the dark shadows of the stable.

  Charles growled furiously, reached out and grabbed Sophie, shaking her as a lion would its prey. Her hair fell down around her shoulders, her head snapped back on her neck, and her gaze locked with his. She saw the flicker of madness and wondered if it had always been there or if she’d pushed him into it by denying him his neatly laid plans.

  “This is all your fault, you stupid bitch,” he shouted, shaking her again until she thought her head might fly right off her shoulders. “The girl is mine. Mine!”

  It’s not happening, she thought. This couldn’t be happening. They’d won. They’d beaten Charles and claimed a life together. They should be safe. They should be happy.

  Terrified, furious at the man who threatened everything that meant a damn to her, Sophie kicked blindly, slamming the toe of her shoe into his shin. When he yelped, she pushed at him with all her strength, gaining only a moment’s freedom before he grabbed her again.

  “She’ll never be yours,” she said, squeezing the words past the knot in her throat. “Even if you kill me, Ridge will protect her. This town will protect her.”

  And that knowledge gave her strength. The kind of strength she’d need to see her through this last battle.

  He let go of her long enough to slap her hard. Her eyes rolled and the sharp stinging pain filled her head. And she didn’t care. The longer he concerned himself with her, the more time Jenna had to get clear. To reach help.

  “Damn you,” he muttered and drew his hand back to hit her again.

  Sophie braced herself for a blow that didn’t come.

  “Let her go,” a quiet, carefully controlled voice said.

  She shot a quick look at the man who stood not ten feet from her. Her husband. His dark blue eyes swirled with an anger so deep, she almost flinched with the hard look of it. He’d tucked the right edge of his jacket behind him. He stood, feet braced wide apart, right hand positioned just above the gun at his hip, his deadly gaze locked on Charles.

  Bright sunlight behind him created a golden glow that outlined his body with a shimmering halo, and he looked to Sophie like an avenging angel. And she’d never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

  “No,” Charles said and pulled her to him, her back to his front. She gasped at the sudden movement and looked directly at Ridge. Producing a knife from who knew where, her captor held the tip to her throat, forcing her to arch her neck to avoid the needle-sharp point. “I’m leaving,” he said. “And if you don’t back off, I’ll kill her.”

  “Oh God, Ridge,” she whispered and saw him flinch.

  “Hurt her and you’re dead in the next second,” Ridge said simply. And the easiness of his tone made his threat that much more dangerous.

  “Even if you kill me,” Charles muttered, “she’ll still be dead. And I’ll win.”

  As if to prove who was in charge, he pushed the tip of the blade into her throat, and Sophie felt the almost sweet sting of steel piercing her flesh. A drop of blood seeped from the wound and trickled down her throat, to roll beneath the high collar of her green dress.

  Short, shallow breaths raced in and out of her lungs and she swallowed heavily, feeling the edge of the knife scrape her skin.

  From a distance, she heard raised voices and knew that Jenna had reached safety. And even with the knife at her throat, a strange sort of peace came over her. If she died here, Jenna would be safe. She would have a home, with people who cared about her. With a father who loved her.

  But she didn’t want to die. She wanted, desperately, to live. To love. To have children. To grow old, looking into pale blue eyes that had offered her a lifetime of riches.

  Seconds stretched out as if time were suddenly moving forward in fits and starts. She felt the wind rush down the center aisle of the livery. The scent of horses and fresh straw and fear almost overwhelmed her. She saw the square of sunlight at the edge of the stable and thought it looked like the gateway to paradise. Outside lay safety. Love. Her future.

  Here in the shadows there was only death and the end to a dream.

  Sophie looked at Ridge and almost didn’t recognize him. Her h
usband—the man she knew, with his kindness and humor—had disappeared. In his place was a hard, unforgiving man whose prowess with a gun had led him into dark and dangerous places too many times to count. And as she recognized the change in him, she knew the end was coming. One way or another, this confrontation was over.

  “Walk out,” Charles said tightly, grabbing a fistful of Sophie’s hair. A small moan of pain slid from her throat as he added, “And maybe I’ll let the bitch live.”

  “I told you once,” Ridge said softly, “be careful how you talk about my wife. And I warned you what would happen if you hurt her.”

  Then his right hand swept up and then down again in a blur of motion. A single gunshot blasted the stillness, a flash of fire from the muzzle of Ridge’s pistol nearly blinded her and the knife was gone from Sophie’s throat.

  Staggering, she fell into her husband’s outstretched arms. Glancing down at Charles, she caught a brief glimpse of the small, neat hole in the center of his forehead before Ridge turned her face into his shoulder.

  “Don’t, darlin’,” he whispered, “don’t look again. It’s over.”

  “Over,” she repeated and felt her heart slowly begin to beat again. He’d drawn and fired his pistol so quickly, she’d hardly seen him move. And in an instant, the danger had passed and her world was safe once more. Grateful for his arm around her, for her life and this second chance at love, she leaned into him as he led her from the stall.

  People streamed into the stable. Two men bent over Toby and Sophie drew her first easy breath when she saw the blacksmith’s eyes flutter open. Concerned faces swam in front of her, but Ridge didn’t stop. He kept walking, leading her out of the shadows and into the bright light of day. And when they were clear of the stable, Sophie heard Jenna call, “Mama!”

  She looked to her right in time to see Hattie set the child down. The little girl ran to her, wrapped her arms around Sophie’s knees and hung on with all her might. “You’re all right, Mama. I see’d it. I knew Daddy would save you.”

  “That’s right, sweetie,” Sophie said, one hand smoothing Jenna’s hair as she looked up into the blue eyes that had captured her from the first. She lifted one hand to stroke his cheek and he turned his face into her touch to kiss her palm. Tears swam in her eyes and Sophie smiled as she told him, “Daddy saved me. He saved us.”

  Smiling, Ridge shook his head and kissed her. Then bending down, he scooped Jenna up into his arms and planted a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek that still bore a red handprint from the man who had nearly cost them so much.

  “Don’t you believe it, little squirt,” he told Jenna, shifting his gaze to Sophie. “You and your mama are the ones who saved me.”

  “We did?” Jenna asked, clearly amazed. “How?”

  “The best way of all,” he said, looking deep enough into Sophie’s eyes that she was sure he was staring straight into her soul. “By lovin’ me.”

  And together, they walked into the sunlight, leaving the shadows of the past far behind them.

  EPILOGUE

  Two years later…

  “Ridge Hawkins,” Hattie shouted, “if you don’t stop your pacing, I swear I’m gonna shoot you stone dead.”

  “It’s my house,” he argued. Hell, he’d built it himself smack in the middle of Foster’s meadow—practically on the spot where he and Sophie had made love for the first time. And he’d be damned if anybody was going to throw him out. Especially now. “I’ll pace if I want to.”

  “Durn men,” she said. “You ought to go somewhere. I’ll tell you when the baby gets here.”

  He glared at her. “I’m not leaving this house until I know Sophie and the baby are all right.”

  “Piffle,” the woman said with a sniff. “You know durn well they’re gonna be fine. Heck, you even know the baby’s another girl. Jenna already told you.”

  But that didn’t help, he thought. Nothing did. Not while he knew Sophie was upstairs in their bedroom, in pain.

  Ridge shoved both hands through his hair and wondered why in the hell they were doing this again. They already had Jenna and another beautiful little girl, Teresa. Wasn’t that enough? Shouldn’t they have been satisfied? Grumbling under his breath, he started pacing again, not even noticing the dangerous look Hattie shot him on her way upstairs with a pan of hot water.

  He heard a low, deep moan filter down from the bedroom and everything inside him went cold and still. But a moment later, he heard a smack and then a baby’s indignant cry and Ridge smiled, taking his first easy breath in hours.

  The front door swung open and Jenna came inside, carefully leading her little sister by the hand. “Our baby’s here, Daddy!” she crowed.

  “She sure is, honey,” he said, grinning now as his newest daughter’s cries lifted the roof off the house. Crossing to the two little girls, he picked up Teresa, took Jenna’s hand, and headed for the stairs. “Let’s go see her, huh?”

  Teresa’s soft reddish-blond hair dusted his cheek as she leaned against him and he heard her voice in his mind. “The baby’s name is ‘Lizbeth.”

  He turned his head to look at her. She could hardly speak yet, but her thoughts came through to him loud and clear. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the way his girls could jump into his mind at will, but he’d learned to live with it. It was, after all, a small price to pay for the happiness he’d found living with his houseful of women. “It is, is it?”

  “But we’ll call her Bethie,” Jenna said matter-of­factly.

  “If you say so, darlin’,”’ he told her.

  “And she’s gonna marry Tall’s little boy,” Jenna added. Frowning, he looked down at her. “Tall and Mercy’s baby isn’t even born yet.”

  Jenna nodded. “I know.”

  Ridge’s eyes rolled and he shook his head. The bedroom door swung open as they approached and he gave Hattie a grateful smile as she slipped out of the room to give the little family some privacy. Then his gaze went directly to Sophie, who was lying against a mound of plumped-up pillows, cradling his brand-new daughter in her arms.

  He was a lucky man, he knew, as his heart filled again at just the sight of the woman who was his wife. His love.

  “Just look at her,” Sophie sighed, holding out one hand to draw them all close. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Ridge eased down on the side of the bed and looked down into the tiny face that already had claimed another piece of his heart. “She is that,” he murmured and bent down to place a soft kiss on his daughter’s forehead.

  Then lifting his head again, he looked at Sophie’s tired features, the shadows beneath her eyes, and whispered, “Three daughters are enough, don’t you think? I don’t want you going through this again.”

  Sophie reached out and cupped his cheek in her palm. “Don’t be silly, Ridge,” she said with a shrug. “I promised you a house full of children. And we haven’t even started on our sons yet.”

  “Sons?” he asked. “More than one?”

  “Three boys, Daddy,” Jenna said, and clambered up onto his lap. She waited until he was looking right at her to add, “But you’ll always love me best.”

  Teresa pushed her big sister, Jenna pushed back, and Ridge set them down on the floor to work out their problems themselves. Stealing one brief minute with his wife, he leaned in close and brushed a kiss across her mouth.

  “She’s wrong, you know,” he whispered, his voice hardly louder than a breath.

  “She is?” Sophie asked, her gaze moving over his face.

  “Uh-huh,” he told her gently. “I love my children, but I’ll always love you best.”

  Then he kissed her, oblivious to the new baby’s cry or his daughters’ giggles. And Ridge Hawkins silently counted his blessings.

  The End

  Other historical romance ebooks by Maureen Child

  Simply Magic (excerpt follows this
list of books)

  Catch a Fallen Angel

  A Pocketful of Paradise (was a CBS-TV movie named Soul Collector)

  When the Halo Falls

  This Time for Keeps

  Dream Weaver

  Still Close to Heaven

  Wishes

  Small Treasures

  Charms

  The Bandit’s Lady

  Nevada Heat

  Frontier Bride

  Mountain Dawn

  Paper Hearts (a novella)

  Simply Magic - PROLOGUE

  TEXAS, SEPTEMBER 28, 1875

  He felt naked.

  Strange how not wearing a badge for the first time in ten years could affect a man.

  “I sure am gonna miss all of this,” Riley Burnett muttered. His horse shook its head, black mane flying, and Riley laughed shortly. “Yeah, I know. Makes me a stupid man. Hell,” he went on, letting his gaze rake across the stark, wide-open Texas landscape. “What kind of fool actually likes living in a saddle day after day with nothing to call home except a ragged bedroll?”

  Him.

  Damn, how was he going to survive living in town again? Surrounded by people? Trapped for days on end in one spot with no chance of hopping on his horse and seeing new country? The center of a storm of gossip again, with the town biddies flapping their gums and whispering from behind their hands.

  He shuddered at the thought. “Hell, Demon,” he told his horse, “even you’ll go crazy locked up in a stable all day every day.”

  It had probably been a mistake to ride all the way to Texas just to turn in his badge. He could’ve mailed it to the man taking over his territory. But damn it, Riley had wanted one last ride. One last time to remember what it was to be a free man. A man with no responsibilities beyond the job at hand.

  And as long as Erma Hightower had been willing to step in and watch over Becky in Rimshot for him, he hadn’t been able to resist the urge.

 

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