by E. E. Burke
Buck wrestled his conscience, but the temptation was too strong. Taking advantage of his height, he peeked over the wall, curious as a crow with a shiny object in sight.
She had her back to him and he couldn’t see a thing below her neck because she’d pushed up a pile of hay and was hiding behind it. Smart gal…and not as crazy as he first thought.
Her green dress went over a rail, along with countless petticoats, each fancier than its neighbor. Lastly, she set aside a bedraggled headpiece too small to call a hat, but with plumes he was sure were peacock feathers.
He shook his head, more intrigued than ever. With those fancy clothes, she could’ve walked right off a fashion plate in one of those ladies’ magazines he’d seen in his stepfather’s mercantile. Who was she, and what was she doing out here, smack dab in the middle of former Indian land? This place was still wild, and based on what Sean had reported, it was getting a lot wilder since the settlers’ dispute with the railroad had exploded into an all-out war. Was her husband involved? That might explain why she’d reacted with fear.
Buck’s heart raced as he watched her lift her arms to shake out a glorious length of chestnut hair. The candle’s light reflected off golden strands. He swallowed hard, his hands fisting. God, he would kill to run his fingers through those tresses.
His mind conjured an image of the voluptuous beauty stark naked, beckoning him to join her on his blanket. Sizzling heat shot straight to his groin. Biting back a tortured groan, he turned away before she caught him peeking at her.
He rested his arms on Goliath’s withers. “Just my luck. I had to rescue a Venus,” he muttered. “Why couldn’t she be ugly and buck-toothed?”
“Sir?” Her voice drifted over, breathy and uncertain. “If you want to come back, I’m decent.”
Decent? Sure she was. But those curves weren’t, and no shirt of his was going to help. He’d lied through his teeth when he told her he wasn’t looking forward to unwrapping her. Except, she’d claw his eyes out before he could see anything.
He touched the scratch across his cheekbone and winced. Should’ve announced his intentions before grabbing her, but he’d been so shocked to see a woman out alone in this weather, then when that buggy started rocking, well, he’d just leapt off his horse and raced to the rescue. A wry smile twisted his lips. That gal sure hadn’t seen a white knight. Not that he was interested in being one.
Against his better judgment, he ventured back to where he’d left her, sitting on the hay next to the bucket that held the candle. She had her legs tucked up beneath her and that scratchy blanket wrapped clear to her neck and was clutching at it like she was afraid he might take it away. His conscience tweaked him. He’d all but threatened to strip her if she didn’t undress. It’d been too long since he’d been in the company of decent women. This would be an uncomfortable night for both of them if he didn’t at least try to ease her fears.
He unbuckled his gun belt, wrapped it around the guns and went down on one knee, carefully laying the revolvers within her reach. The Bowie knife went beside the holsters. Her eyes followed his every move. At last, her shoulders lowered and the tense expression softened. More than that, he could actually feel her distress draining.
Buck rocked back on his heels, bemused. Over the years, he’d honed his instincts, relying on gut-level intuition to stay alive. But this strange connection seemed to extend to an ability to pick up on the ebb and flow of her emotions, which tugged like the current in a river.
She offered a slight smile. “Thank you for saving me, Mr.—?”
“O’Connor,” he blurted, absurdly pleased by the gratitude shining in her eyes. On second thought, he should’ve given her an alias. Still, it was unlikely she’d ever heard of him. He wasn’t as well known as his friend Cole Younger. “Couldn’t let you turn into an icicle.”
His breath clouded the air. Come to think of it, this ramshackle barn was damn frigid. It offered shelter from the sleet, but did little to keep the cold out. “Here, let me pile up some hay. It’ll block the drafts and keep you warm.”
“What about you? Are you warm enough?” She hugged the blanket, shivering.
“You want my coat?” His hands went to the buttons. Should’ve thought to offer it earlier.
Her eyes widened. “No, I wasn’t implying that. I just thought you might be cold. We can share the hay.”
For a moment, he was speechless. It’d been so long since anyone cared about his comfort, he hadn’t expected it and didn’t know how to respond. He shrugged to hide how much her concern touched him.
“Ah, don’t worry about me. You hungry?” He rummaged through the saddlebag, finding the last piece of jerky. “It’s not much, but it’ll take the edge off.”
“Thank you.” She gifted him with a smile that snatched his breath.
He leaned back on one arm, trying his damnedest not to look like an infatuated schoolboy. Instead of sitting here mooning over her, he ought to find out what he could about the local situation. Whatever she knew might come in handy when he started searching for that railroad promoter.
“So, you live out here, Mrs., uh…”
“Langford,” she finished.
He tried the name in his head. Mrs. Langford. Nope, he preferred Venus.
She bit off a small piece of jerky with perfect white teeth, chewed slowly and swallowed before continuing. “Yes, I live…” Her voice trailed off and her lashes lowered.
He leaned forward, worried. “Something wrong?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Connor. I wasn’t honest before. I don’t live around here. I was headed for a friend’s house before starting back to Fort Scott.”
That she’d fibbed about where she lived didn’t surprise him. She’d done it so he’d think her husband was nearby. But where she was going astonished him. “Fort Scott? That’s another two days’ ride.”
“By rail it’s only a couple hours. But the line hasn’t reached Girard yet, so we have to go a few miles north to meet the workers’ train.”
“We?”
“I was traveling with an escort. He attended a meeting earlier today in Baxter Springs and didn’t make it back. We’d arranged to stay overnight at a friend’s farm, so I thought I’d meet him there.”
“Your husband abandoned you in Girard?”
Irritation flickered across her face. “He’s not my husband, and he didn’t abandon me.”
It was on the tip of Buck’s tongue to ask why she was traveling with a man who wasn’t her husband. But then, what did he care who she traveled with? He opted for a safer question. “Why were you there? From what I hear, it’s not exactly a safe place for a woman.”
She finished chewing the last bite before responding. “I had business in town.”
“Business?”
Her lips sealed. Apparently, she didn’t wish to elaborate.
Buck smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, mulling over her hesitation. Just what kind of business would a wealthy lady have with a bunch of rowdy settlers? When he’d come up on her, she’d been terrified, even after he told her he was trying to help. Had even offered him money. More money…
His scalp began to tingle, a sure sign something wasn’t right. He leaned forward, draping an arm over his knee to appear casual. “I didn’t mean to frighten you when I rode up. You must’ve been expecting trouble.”
“Trouble is one way to put it….” She toyed with a curl at her cheek, not meeting his eyes. “You see, I thought you were going to kill me.”
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Other Books by the Author
In the Steam! Romance and Rails Series
Passion’s Prize
(with Jennifer Jakes and Jacqui Nelson)
Kate’s Outlaw
(a novella included in Passion’s Prize)
Her Bodyguard
A Dangerous Passion
Fugitive Hearts
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Author’s Note
More from E.E. Burke
Other Books by the Author