The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  “Right.”

  “Your call,” he said. “I would be happy to do this for you, but you don’t really know me, and it’s understandable that you don’t trust me yet.”

  “You make me want to.”

  “Your call, like I said. Meanwhile, our meals are getting cold.”

  “Oh—” She stirred. “Sorry.” She waved her fork. “Go ahead. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

  He wondered if his tongue would survive the trap she’d clearly laid. He took a bite and chewed. Felt his eyes start to water. “Wow. Holy crap, that is hot.” He forked up another bite. “But mighty good. Just ask the waitress for a gallon or so of milk to coat my stomach lining, will you?”

  She visibly relaxed. “I expected you to posture, not to admit that the sauce incinerates soft tissue everywhere it touches.”

  “Sorry, can’t talk. Too busy dying here.” He took another bite. Stuff was deadly but awesome.

  Carmen laughed and signaled the waitress.

  After he’d drunk some milk and they’d both polished off their plates, he paid the bill, then they rose and walked out together.

  When they reached her car, he opened the door for her. Instead of settling into the seat, she studied him before speaking. “Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “You didn’t lie to me about the sauce. I’ll trust you not to lie to me about your intentions regarding Elena.”

  “We’ll have to have a second date for me to report in,” he pointed out.

  “Or you could just call me.”

  “Or we could have a second date.” He kept his gaze locked on hers.

  “Or we could have a second date,” she agreed.

  “I’ll go out there right now. What time shall I be over to pick you up tonight?”

  Her eyes widened. “You always work this fast, cowboy?”

  “Let’s see.” He bent and kissed her, quick and hard.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Like I said, better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He winked.

  “You have a lot of nerve.”

  “You’ll learn to like that about me.” He turned to go. “I’ll be at your place at seven.”

  “Maybe I won’t be there.”

  “But maybe you will.” He waved at her over his back.

  Her laughter trailed behind him as he left.

  Chapter Twelve

  Elena took her tour guide duties seriously. She had tuned in the radio to the Park Service frequency, and she listened carefully to the narrative at each guidepost. When she found information in the brochure that was not mentioned, she read it to him.

  Josh had been to White Sands more than once and might have heard it before, but he’d never really listened until Elena’s musical voice did the honors.

  “These dunes can shift as much as twenty feet a year—isn’t that amazing?” She glanced at the huge mounds of white sand. “It says that some parts of the road can be buried completely if the Park Service isn’t vigilant.”

  Josh drove slowly, enjoying her absorption in the surroundings. When they passed the last marker, he turned back. When he found a good place to park, he pulled up right next to a dune and turned to face her, unlacing his shoes.

  “Take off your shoes, Elena.” She blinked. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

  She did as he asked while he pulled the boxes out of the back seat and began to raise the top on the convertible. Elena lent a hand, then walked around to his side, looking at the boxes quizzically. He merely picked them up and held out his hand to her.

  The feel of her slender hand in his made him itch to tighten his grip. “Ready?”

  Her chocolate eyes glowed. The sunset crowned her dark hair with a reddish halo. What was it about this woman? Her beauty was subtle, yet once a person began to really look, she all but shone, like fine wood lacquered so carefully, layer after layer, that the eye was drawn into the depths of its heart.

  But it was when she relaxed and smiled that she became breathtakingly beautiful. When her lips parted in a smile directed at him, Josh wished for a camera to capture her image again, but a better camera this time.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You are so beautiful. I’m going to keep saying it until you believe it.”

  For the one brief moment that she met his gaze with a shy pride, he understood yet again why men slayed dragons. “Come on—race you to the top!”

  They scrambled up the steep slope, Elena nimble beside him. When they reached the summit, she let out a breath.

  “Wow.”

  He knew the feeling. As far as the eye could see, all the way to the base of the mountains, was a vista of rolling dunes of blinding white sand shaded in the pinks, blues, and oranges of the desert evening.

  Elena turned in a slow circle where more dunes across the road stretched toward the opposite range of mountains the formed the rest of the boundaries of the Tularosa Basin. “This is beautiful, Josh. It’s like another world.”

  Satisfaction filled him that he was the first to show her this lovely, haunting landscape. Eager to show her more, he dropped the boxes where they stood and grabbed her hand. “These are for later. Come with me.”

  As they rambled over dune after dune, Elena marveled at the feel of the fine white granules between her toes. Some places it was packed down hard; others, it felt powdery soft. The breeze blew steadily, lifting her hair as the landscape lifted her heart. She let go of his hand, closed her eyes and simply breathed in the peace. Spread her arms and welcomed the wind, letting it blow away the darkness inside her.

  When finally she opened her eyes, she looked around, suddenly missing his presence. She spotted him on the next dune, waving his arms and pointing to the sand.

  She squinted to read what he’d written.

  Beautiful Elena.

  Her throat tightened as she clasped her hands just beneath her chin, in her heart a silent wish that this dream never had to end. “Oh, Josh,” she murmured, knowing he couldn’t hear. “I wish I were someone you could love.” Her heart filled with a longing so intense it hurt—no matter that it was the most impossible wish.

  But this was a place for magic. A place to dream for a bit.

  She sank to the sand, wrapping her arms close to her chest as if that could keep the dream from escaping. Watching the glory of the sunset, she rested her head against her knees and let herself drift to the sound of the wind.

  “Lady Helen.” A hand shook her shoulder repeatedly. “Lady Helen, come see the young squire who sings below.”

  Helen sat up in the window seat of her tower room—tower prison, to be exact—rubbing her eyes.

  “What?” Her mind was still fuzzy from her dream of a man in a strange chariot which sported no horses. It had seemed to move by itself, and its roof—passing strange in itself—folded back from the edge of what seemed to be glass. The man who’d driven it—was that the proper word for something with no horses?—had been wondrous fair. Dark hair and laughing green eyes which seemed to be speaking directly to her. His countenance had seemed strangely familiar, though his garments were beyond understanding, as was his conveyance.

  “Lady Helen, Sir Richard hae given ye leave to join in the entertainment below,” Anna said forcefully. “Ye’ve been fair bursting to leave this prison; will ye nae come quickly, before he changes his mind?”

  Helen knew she should refuse, just on principle, but she did so long to leave this small room. Itchy and restless to move in a larger space, she nodded.

  “Yes, Anna, perhaps I should not accept, but ’tis true I am past weary of these walls.” Turning to her maid, she asked, “No word of my father yet?” She knew Anna would have sources within the servants for information unavailable to her.

  Anna shook her head sorrowfully. “Nae a word, my lady, but despair not. The Laird will come to fetch his treasure.”

  Helen smiled fondly at the thought of her beloved father. She could not risk his walking into a
trap here, however. She had to escape. She did not trust Sir Richard’s motives; he seemed to want more than ransom. Shuddering, she tried not to contemplate how he looked at her. Suddenly, she wished she dared refuse to go below, but she needed to reconnoiter the lower castle, of which she’d seen little.

  Smoothing her hair and her gown, she straightened in a manner befitting the daughter of the Douglas, Knight of Liddesdale. Nodding to Anna, she moved to the stairs, passing her guard on the landing.

  Her guard, she sniffed inwardly. Her jailer, more like it.

  When she reached the great hall, she paused on the steps, wishing she dared join in with the spirit of the music being played by a young dark-haired man. Toes tapped and hands clapped in time with the tune he played on the lute he held in strong, graceful hands. She couldn’t see his face, merely the top of his head, capped with dark, thick hair.

  As she neared, he raised his head, almost as though he heard her approach, though she knew he could not, with all the noise.

  When his eyes met hers, she almost gasped aloud.

  Dancing green eyes seemed to see into her soul, drawing her toward his own as though she had no will. Her mind blanked as she moved another step in his direction, before she heard Sir Richard come to stand beside her.

  “I beg your pardon?” she asked in a daze. She hadn’t heard a word her captor had said, lost in the eyes and the smile of the musician who seemed of an age with herself.

  “My young Scots squire is quite gifted, is he not?” Sir Richard asked. “Iain Kerr, son of the Duke of Roxburgh, meet Lady Helen Douglas, daughter of Sir William, Laird of Clan Douglas and the Knight of Liddesdale.” Sir Richard’s grasp on her arm tightened so that she winced. “Iain has been fostered to the Earl of Northumberland for these many years. He is serving as my squire as he trains for knighthood. His spurs are not far off.”

  As Iain sketched a courtly bow, she saw his eyes narrow at the grip of her captor’s hand upon her arm. She froze, sensing an anger within the young man which he kept carefully hidden. Perhaps this was a potential ally; she could not let him come to harm on her behalf.

  Gracefully, she stepped away as part of her curtsey, seeking out Iain’s gaze to reassure him. When the green fire of his eyes bored into her own, she almost gasped aloud. This was the face of her passing-strange dream charioteer; this was the face she’d seen in her vision in the forest. Even now, she tensed, wishing the Sight to spare her in this crowded room, though she knew she had no hope of controlling it. The Sight visited when It pleased, and left when It wished.

  As her captor reached to pull her back, she took one more step, speaking to Iain with her gaze as her lips spoke another tale. “You are most gifted, sir. Would you honor me with another tune?”

  Iain’s gaze burned with his fervor; she could almost feel his desire to protect her. What was happening? How could a man she’d just met seem so familiar? And why did she not mind his nearness but rather, wished him closer?

  She tried again to warn him away without speaking.

  Reluctantly, his gaze making it clear that he only did so because he wished to, he broke their connection and turned back to play.

  It was as if the sun had dropped from the sky in one black moment.

  What madness was this? Helen wondered.

  Josh looked over from the dune where he’d written his declaration, only to see Elena first settle gracefully, head on her knees, then crumple to the side as though she’d fainted.

  He’d never run so fast in his life.

  When he reached her, he drew her into his arms. Her breath came in shallow pants.

  “Elena,” he urged, his heart thudding. “Elena, wake up, sweetheart.” Her pulse was even but fast.

  “Elena.” He gathered her into his lap and shook her gently. “Elena, come back to me. Elena….”

  What was wrong with her?

  At last her eyelids fluttered and he let out the breath he’d been holding. Her gaze was unfocused, as it had been at the Cliff Dwellings, then at last she stirred. For a long moment, looking into her eyes, it was almost as if he gazed into a bottomless well.

  The effect was eerie.

  It felt strangely like looking at forever.

  Get a grip, Josh. You must have baked your brains in the convertible.

  He was taking her to a doctor, no matter what she said. “Are you all right? What happened? Did you faint?”

  She merely gazed at him for a long moment, as though seeing right through him. Then she lifted one hand to his jaw, stroking it gently. Her touch was as soft as a butterfly’s breath, yet he felt a current flow between them as she caressed him.

  “Iain…” Her voice was husky. “I—I thought…”

  Iain? He waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Hey, wake up okay? You’re dreaming.”

  “But you—you were…” She shook her head. Closed her eyes and sagged against him.

  Fear shot through him. “Elena, wake up,” he demanded.

  She opened her eyes again, and they were clear, if troubled. She blinked. “Josh? What happened?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. You sat down, then I saw you crumple as though you fainted. Are you sick? I have to get you to a doctor. This isn’t right.” And who in the hell is Iain?

  “I’m fine, Josh, really. Just a little…dizzy.” She straightened but still leaned into him.

  He rested his cheek on top of her hair. “I’m worried about you. We’d better head into town.”

  “I’m fine, I swear. Please, let’s don’t leave. I love it here.”

  “But—”

  “I’m okay, see?” She disentangled herself and stood up, hands out at her side. “Don’t make me leave.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

  He studied her, not hiding his reservations. “All right, just for a few minutes,” he warned. “But I’m not leaving your side, hear?”

  She smiled. “That’s fine with me.” She grasped his hand.

  Voluntarily.

  He felt like he’d won the prize at the fair. Tucking her hand into his, he began walking back toward the car. “But there’s a price,” he began.

  Just like that, she went rigid.

  Damn, he’d like to get his hands on that sonofabitch who had made her so wary. Striving for a lighter tone than he felt, he continued. “So here’s the deal…”

  Relief shone from her eyes. She graced him with a smile. “Another deal?”

  He nodded. “We’ll stay a while longer, if you’ll let me give you something.”

  “Give me what?” Her expression vacillated between wariness and pleasure.

  “It’s a surprise. Close your eyes.”

  She complied.

  He dug into his pocket and came up with the bracelet. “No cheating,” he warned. When she grinned, his heart skipped a beat.

  He slid the bracelet gently over her arm, then brought her hand to his mouth to kiss her fingers.

  Her eyes remained closed, her expression angelic.

  Where was a camera when he needed it?

  Josh had never wanted anyone to like a gift as badly as he wanted Elena to like this cheap bracelet. Why was it that he’d given jewelry from Harry Winston and never cared this much, though he’d spent thousands of dollars?

  Wow. He was feeling something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time: insecurity. She’d looked at it in the gift shop as though she’d wanted it, but it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t anything like what he wanted to give her.

  “Can I look?”

  “Not yet,” he said hastily, tempted to take it back off. He wished for a jewelry store or a transporter beam, like in Star Trek. He’d have them on Rodeo Drive in milliseconds.

  “Josh?” Her grin faded, turning leery.

  Anxiety coiling in his gut, he conceded. “Okay. You can look.” He hadn’t been this nervous since the gift he’d made his mother when he was twelve, the last gift he gave her before his parents had died.

  “Oh, Josh,” she sighed. �
�It’s beautiful. You shouldn’t have.”

  “Dammit, Elena, it’s not good enough.” Why in the hell, the one time it really mattered, did all his wealth and fame stand for nothing? Why would she not allow him to give a gift that said what he felt?

  Whoa.

  Wasn’t he sick to death of women who wanted him for his looks or his fame or his money? What was his problem? Why wasn’t he just enjoying this?

  Elena’s kiss took him by surprise, yanking him right out of his turmoil.

  His anger drained away, as quickly as it had arisen.

  “Thank you. I love it.” Her soft smile and shining eyes made him wish yet again that it were diamonds, or emeralds. Pearls would suit her.

  Her delicate fingers traced a pattern over the band, pausing to circle the stones.

  “It’s not good enough for you,” he repeated.

  “It’s exactly what I want, a memento of this day, of this beautiful, magical place.” The glow in her velvety brown eyes surrounded him, peace settling into his heart.

  When was the last time he’d felt peaceful?

  She grasped his arm, tucking her hand within the crook of his elbow, and turned back toward the car. “So now will you show me what the boxes are for?”

  Hell, he’d show her the world, if she’d only let him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Then to the boxes, milady.” He doffed his cap, rewarded with her silvery laughter.

  Elena couldn’t stop squealing. She hadn’t abandoned herself to pure fun in more years than she could remember. She scrambled back to the top of the dune, her flattened box under one arm. Pausing at the top, she watched Josh toboggan down the dune on his box, skidding to a stop at the bottom. She clapped and cheered, but when he jumped up and turned to face her, she got lost in the beauty of his smile.

  Dios, the man was gorgeous.

  And fun. She’d forgotten how to have fun.

  Sometimes Josh was a big kid, she smiled to herself. His capacity for enjoying life seemed limitless. Being with him was a vacation in itself.

  “Turning scaredy-cat on me?” Josh teased. “Chicken?” He began crowing like a rooster, arms flapping underneath his armpits like wings as he climbed up the dune.