by Linda Broday
“If that’s what you want. It’ll probably be as binding as any ceremony Ridge Steele would’ve performed.”
At Nora’s nod, he took her hands, staring deeply into her eyes cloaked in shadow. Nerves set in as he wiped a dark smudge off the tip of her nose. He’d never wanted anyone more than her, his woman that he’d sent for and agreed to marry. He’d gotten a prize. She had a spine of steel, arms that ached to hold children, and a heart that burst with zest for living.
Inhaling deeply, he tried to steady his jitters. He blew out some air. “Here goes. I, Jack Bowdre, vow to provide, protect, and cherish you, Nora Kane. I’ll do my best to be a husband you can be proud of for all my remaining days and give you all my worldly possessions, pitiful though they may be. I want to grow old with you, sleep beside you, and dream of a happy future.” He dropped her hands and lightly placed his on each side of her throat. “I will care for you however long I live. That’s about all, I guess.”
He hadn’t mentioned love. That wasn’t part of the deal. He did find pleasure in sleeping next to her and sharing the days. But love? He could never give his heart to another woman. After Rachel, there wasn’t enough of it left.
“My turn.” Nora laid her hand over his heart, and the small weight warmed him. “I, Lenora Kane, solemnly pledge to be faithful to you, have undying devotion, and to find a bright side even when there isn’t one. I’ll stand by your side and hand you the bullets. I’ll have your back, and I’ll never steal the covers—unless you’re hogging them. My love for you is eternal, a light for all the world to see. We’ll make a formidable team. If you get arrested again, I’ll search for a key until I find one. I’ll be steady and true, the best wife I know how. This I pledge, Jack Bowdre.”
He captured her slightly parted lips, slipping his arms inside her coat, rubbing her back. As the kiss deepened, he slid his hand to her waist, then rested it on her plump behind. Stirrings of wanting and something deeper swept through him. Somehow, he felt as married as he had with Rachel. Nora and her unusual vows would always remain in his heart.
But would they be enough to hold them together when the law caught up with him and Nora got the full list of his crimes? Especially the mistake he had to live with daily—the decision that had led to the deaths of a dozen innocent lives.
Then, without a preacher or witnesses to hold them accountable, would her pretty vows fly off into the sunset?
Fifteen
Nora slept in Jack’s arms on the box bed that had no mattress. Her dreams were frightening, and in one of them, she desperately clutched Willow while a man tried to pull her away. His appearance sent terror into the marrow of her bones, a skull in place of a head and a gruesome smile. Then he turned away and grabbed Sawyer.
“No, you can’t have them!” Nora bolted upright, swinging her fists.
“Wake up, Nora, you’re dreaming.” Jack shook her. “It’s only a dream, darlin’.”
“It was so real.” She rubbed her eyes to rid herself of the image.
“What’s wrong?” Sawyer raised from his bed. “Are we in danger?”
“No, son. It’s just me having a nightmare. Go back to sleep.” Nora turned to face Jack, lowering her voice. “I’m sorry to wake everyone. I dreamed that Willow’s father came and was trying to pull her from my arms. The feeling that I was losing that precious baby was one that will stay with me for a long time.”
“You’re trembling.” He pulled her against him and held her. “It’s going to be all right. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
She met his lips and found strength in the kiss. Slowly, her fears eased, replaced by a deep longing to be Jack’s wife in every way. She wanted to feel him inside her, run her hands over his body, taste his skin.
And if possible, she would bear him some children. He’d been alone and unloved for such a long time. But no more.
“Did we actually say our vows?” she mumbled against his mouth.
“We did.”
She cupped her palm on the side of his face and stared into his gray eyes. “I love you, Jack.”
Just then, Willow let out a cry. Jack held Nora back when she started to get up. “You rest. It’s my turn to feed her.”
“I guess it is. If you need my help, holler.” She lay back on the hard bed and watched how tenderly he picked Willow up, crooning softly to her.
If someone hadn’t ripped his wife and son from him, he’d never have taken up the outlaw trail. He loved family too much. He cradled the baby girl in his large hands and, though his face was bathed in shadows, she could see how the hard lines softened. Then he bent his head and kissed the tiny face. Tears sprang into Nora’s eyes. He was going to make an unbelievable father, filled with compassion and love enough to raise strong men and women.
Only…would he get to?
The first line of his vows drifted into her mind. I, Jack Bowdre, vow to provide, to protect, to cherish you, Nora Kane.
Though he’d mentioned nothing about love, a happy glow filled her. That would come later. For the first time since her parents’ death, she’d finally found someone who wanted her for herself.
She drifted off with the sight of Jack feeding and burping the baby. When she opened her eyes, a pink dawn was peeking in the corner of the window, and Jack still sat in the chair at the small table holding Willow. His Colt rested on the tabletop, within easy reach as always. He was asleep with his head on his chest. Nora sucked in a breath, the sight warming her heart.
Jack Bowdre might be a big, tough outlaw, riding the plains and dispensing his brand of justice, but put a tiny babe in his arms, and he was every bit a gentle cowboy.
She rose and noticed that Sawyer was missing. Panic raced through her. She hurried to the door and opened it.
The creak of the hinges woke Jack. He grabbed his Colt. “What’s wrong?”
“Sawyer is gone. I’m going to find him.” Nora stepped into the brisk morning air and relaxed when the boy came from around the side of the house.
He grinned and held up a pail. “I milked the goats.”
Jack moved behind Nora. He’d lain the baby down. “You didn’t have to do that, son.”
“I know, but I wanted to.” Sawyer handed Nora the full pail. “I thought Willow might need it—and I’m hungry too. Do you think that maybe…maybe you can make some gravy?”
Nora’s heart broke. The kid seldom asked for anything. “I’ll see if I can find some flour, and you will have your gravy. A biscuit to go with it too, if we’re lucky.”
Jack draped an arm around Sawyer. “I saw a little flour last night in a tin when I was looking for that glove. Let’s see if the chickens laid more eggs or if I overlooked other hens last night.”
She hurried inside to do some hunting of her own—and to make a bit of coffee, if she could locate some of that too. The flour was easy to find, but she was about to give up the search for coffee when she spied another tin, this one smaller, way back in a corner. Nora reached for it and found dark coffee beans. A grinder sat next to the stove in a box that also held a tin of baking powder. The tiny bit left in the bottom was just enough for some biscuits.
By the time Sawyer and Jack came inside with a half dozen eggs from a nest he’d overlooked before, she had coffee boiling and biscuits in the oven.
Jack sniffed the air, his gray eyes twinkling. “I think you must be an angel.” His lazy gaze moved over her body and heat swept through her.
“I’m simply a wife who guesses what her man likes.”
“Indeed.” He slid his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. Nora caught Sawyer rolling his eyes. The boy only wanted food, and the sooner the better.
Willow woke with a cry that quickly grew insistent.
She gave Jack a playful shove. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”
Teasing glints sparkled in his eyes. “I could suggest a few things.”
Heat swept along Nora’s body like some wildfire, scorching everything in its path. “I’m quite sure you could.”
Flustered, she grabbed a skillet and put it on a burner, then cracked the eggs. Sawyer went outside with Jack to wait for breakfast. Only then could she examine her feelings about him. The more time they spent together, the more Jack loosened up and allowed himself to feel. She understood better about his life and the kind of marriage they’d have.
Yet there were things he still couldn’t bring himself to share with her.
Maybe one day he could. Until then, she’d love him and be the wife she knew she could be.
When breakfast was ready, she called them in and they ate their fill for once.
“Thank you for making biscuits and gravy, Nora,” Sawyer said. “They taste like Mama’s.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Nora leaned to kiss his cheek.
After they finished eating, and Jack had buried the young mother, he entered the soddy with a dead chicken.
Nora glanced up and spoke over the baby’s wails. “Jack, I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve tried everything, and she won’t hush.”
“Tell me what you tried.”
Nora rocked the baby. “She refuses to take milk and hasn’t since early this morning. I changed her and she’s dry, so it’s not that. I don’t know if she’s sick or has developed an aversion to the taste of the glove or what.”
He laid his hand on the child’s quivering body and face. “No fever. It must be the glove then. I’ll go after a bottle.” He handed her the extra gun. “Don’t be afraid to use this.”
“I won’t. Please be careful.”
“It may just be colic. Rub her back and it might release a burp.” He gave Nora a light kiss. “Sawyer and I will be back soon.”
She grabbed his hand before he turned away. “Are we doing the right thing? Do you think we should bundle her up good and start toward Hope’s Crossing instead of staying here another night?”
“Darlin’, it’s too far, and this baby is too fragile for the cold night in the open.” He brushed a finger across her cheek. “The trading post is only an hour or so away. I’ll go there and get a proper bottle. If that doesn’t work, we’ll head for the town. But I’m wasting time now.”
“I know. Hurry, Jack.” She clutched Willow’s sobbing body and prayed that they could figure out what was horribly wrong.
“Please, God, let Willow be all right.” If He granted that, she wouldn’t ask for anything more.
The door closed behind him. Her rocking, swaying motion carried her and Willow to the window. She watched Sawyer and her new husband stride toward the outpost with a list—or as much as Jack’s two dollars would buy. The day had turned nice and sunny, and he’d removed his duster. She drank up the sight of his tall, lean figure, his heavy Colt hanging at his side, and prayed both her husband and the boy would make it back to her.
“My husband.” The words felt right on her tongue.
She’d found a home, family, and purpose here in the wilds of Texas.
* * *
Jack kept a wary eye out for trouble and avoided the trail. The rugged landscape made for slow going, even though they were making good time. Sawyer stayed silent and at his side. The boy seemed to know when to speak and when to hold his tongue. That was rare in one so young. His son, Alex, had rattled on all the time about something or another. Jack wondered if he’d made a wrong decision by letting Sawyer come, but he welcomed the quiet company.
A flock of buzzards circled in the sky, drawing his attention. The scavenger birds always gathered where something died.
They climbed down a steep gully to investigate, and Jack was the first to see the body draped over a large boulder. A group of birds feasting on the remains squawked at him in protest and flapped their large wings before slowly taking flight.
From the purple face and bloated corpse, the man must’ve been dead for three or four days.
Sawyer fidgeted. “Who do you think that is?”
“I don’t know.” Jack surveyed the scene—a woven basket at the man’s feet, sacks of flour and meal busted open on the ground. A blanket of lamb’s wool like one for a newborn was clenched in the man’s fist.
Moving his gaze to the top of the gully, Jack noticed the broken limbs of the brush. Everything there told a story. The man must’ve lost his balance and fallen. There was no sign of a struggle, no other footprints. It was simply a tragic accident.
“Is that Willow’s father?” Sawyer asked.
“Appears so. Looks like he took a tumble from up top.”
Jack placed the dead man in a depression in the ground, and he and Sawyer covered him with rocks. It was the best they could do.
They set off again, and an hour later, the outpost came into sight. He waited another thirty minutes in the brush, watching, getting a sense of the place. It had a new owner these days, one who’d arrived after Jack’s old friend, Pete, had met up with a bullet one dark night.
Neither of the horses tied to the hitching rail looked familiar.
Finally, sensing that the coast was clear, he and Sawyer approached. Jack eyed the two horses with longing as they walked past. Those animals would get them safely to Hope’s Crossing. He felt Sawyer’s gaze on him and glanced over to see disappointment in the boy’s eyes. Shame filled Jack that he’d even considered taking the horses. Hell! He’d slipped several places in Sawyer’s high esteem of him.
“I was just trying to see if I recognized them is all, son.” Jack put his arm around Sawyer, and they stepped inside the store.
Two rough-looking men wearing buffalo robes played cards at a small table near the back.
“Morning, gentlemen.” The clerk smiled from behind the counter. “What can I get you?”
“A small sack of flour, lard, baking powder, and…” Jack lowered his voice. “Would you happen to have a baby bottle?”
The two men playing cards snickered. Jack shot them a glance and they hushed.
“Don’t get much call for one of those. But I do have families traveling through and stopping, wanting all sorts of stuff. Let me see.” The clerk bit back whatever else he was going to say and began rifling through some boxes. Finding nothing, he pulled out a drawer and held up a bottle. “Found one. I’ll fill the rest of your list.”
Sawyer wandered over to the gumdrops. “Throw in some of that candy too,” Jack instructed the clerk. The boy rewarded Jack with a grin.
The seediest man at the table shifted. “Where did you say you’re from, mister?”
Jack tensed and met Sawyer’s worried gaze. “Didn’t.”
The air crackled in the store and Jack watched the two through narrowed eyes. Both were about his age, but he’d never seen them before. He knew their kind, though. They were vultures, living off what they could steal. They waited for the right moment to make their move, then jumped in to pick the bones clean.
“Nope, don’t reckon you did.” The man turned to his companion. “Joe, who did that posse say they’re looking high and low for?”
“Some fellow named Jack Bowdre. Mister, you’d best keep an eye open. They say he’s a killer and took a woman hostage when he escaped. I speculate he’s slit her throat by now.” Joe picked his teeth with the tip of a knife. “Better keep that gun of yours handy in case you cross his trail. They have a reward out—one thousand dollars, dead or alive. Ain’t that right, Toad?”
“Yep, that’s right. No missus with you, mister?”
“Just me and the boy.” Jack draped an arm around Sawyer’s neck and whispered, “Stay close.”
The one named Toad stood. “I’d sure like to claim that reward. Yes, siree.”
Jack shrugged. “Well, who knows? You’ll have to play your cards right.”
“Some say Bowdre is sure enough quick with his gun.” Joe stuck his
knife into a sheath hanging on his belt. He also wore a pistol in his holster.
“You don’t say?” Jack turned toward the clerk and was relieved to see him wrapping his purchases. The sooner they left the better. Joe and Toad either recognized him or they suspected who he was. “Sawyer, wait outside.”
“Okay.” The kid walked to the door and went out.
Jack knew he could take both men, but he didn’t want Sawyer in the middle of it. At least if shooting started, he was out of harm’s way.
“Of course, no outlaw like Bowdre would be risking his hide for a…baby bottle.” Joe snickered, leaning back his chair. “Nope. Not some stupid thing like a baby bottle. You got a wife and a young’un, mister?”
“How much do I owe you?” Jack asked the clerk, ignoring the two rabble-rousers. No one would bait him into drawing his gun. He drew it for one reason only—self-defense. And when he drew it, someone usually died.
The clerk tallied the bill and Jack counted out the money.
“Be careful out there, mister. Danger is all around,” the clerk warned in a low voice. “Including those two over there. They’re spoiling for a fight. Been drinking most of the day.”
“Thanks.” Jack tucked his purchases under his arm. “Say, do you know a young couple living in a sheepherder’s soddy not far from here?” He described them.
“They came in off and on over the last few months, but I didn’t get a name. The woman was in the family way. They’d buy flour and sugar, mostly. That’s all I know.”
“Okay, thanks.” Jack kept a wary eye on the two men at the table.
Their cold, calculating gazes sent a warning to his clenched gut. The tense air rippled with danger, raising the hair on Jack’s neck as he backed slowly to the door. One slow step at a time, keeping his gun hand free.
A guttural growl came from the table, but the men stayed seated.
He reached the door without incident, collected Sawyer, and they hurried toward the little house where Nora waited. They ducked into a gully not far from the trading post to watch. If the two hunters in the store followed, he’d have to kill them.