The Irish Westerns Boxed Set

by C. H. Admirand

  A loud thud and string of curses told her he found the pile of ruined supplies. “I hope he trips over them.”

  With only the lightning flashes to guide her way, it took longer than she hoped to find the trail. Worry nipped at her heels, while mud sucked at the toes of her brand-new high-button shoes. Lifting her shirts to keep from tripping became more and more difficult. Her green-and-white gingham dress was drenched, heavy with rainwater. Her lovely new shoes and dress would likely rot at the seams before the storm was finished making rags out of her clothes.

  The storm eased enough for her to hear the unmistakable sounds of her pursuer crashing through the underbrush after her. The knowledge that he was close on her heels pushed her on when she was certain she couldn’t go another step. The sudden sharp cramp in her side doubled her over. She grabbed it and pressed against the ache, her head swimming from lack of air. Gulping in deep breaths of cold air helped. After five or so, the ache was a little more bearable, enough to push on.

  A shout from up ahead froze the blood in her veins. How could he have run past her and now be in front of her? The sound of other voices confused her for a moment, until she heard a vile curse and crash sound from somewhere behind her on the trail. Her captor was still behind her. Someone else was out in this dreadful storm. Her brain tried to reason out who would be desperate enough to be out on a night like this, but it was no use. Fear combined with exhaustion, making it impossible to string two thoughts together. But her faith was stronger than her fear. Putting her trust in that higher power, she ran like the devil was at her heels and threw back her head to scream.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joshua blinked. “Maggie?”

  The ghostly white form that ran toward him through the storm was definitely a woman. It had to be her. Forced to walk his horse through the worst of the downpour, he was already on foot. He dropped Blaze’s reins and thought to meet her halfway, but she seemed to pick up speed the closer the got.

  “Wait here,” he told the weary search party.

  “Is it Miss Flaherty?” Sheriff Coltrane asked.

  Joshua didn’t have time to answer. He only had time to brace himself for impact. Tensing his body he opened his arms and caught the soggy wet bundle. Relief washed over him as he enveloped her in his arms.

  “Maggie,” he said, resting his head on top of hers.

  She shivered violently. “You’re freezing.” Concern for her, and the possibility of her kidnapper taking them by surprise, forced him to move. The powerful need to demand the reason she had for corresponding with James Ryan burned deep within him. He wanted to ask why she had traveled from New York to see the man. More than that, he needed to know what Ryan was to her. But his years as a lawman had him acting without the need to think, doing what needed to be done. He pulled her with him behind a stand of trees and scanned the area for signs of pursuit.

  “Joshua.” She wrapped her arms about his waist, resting her head against his back.

  All thoughts of explanations and upholding the law dissolved at her touch. The woman he had tried so hard to forget was now holding onto him with a death grip. His heart pounded in his chest. The past few days spent worrying that he’d never find her had warred with the possibility that when he did, he’d lose her to her intended. Suddenly neither possibility mattered. He pulled her around him until he could enfold her in his arms. When she melted into him, he sighed—Maggie was safe.

  Worry was replaced by wonder, as her grip tightened around him. Possibilities replaced reasons as he reveled in the moment, Maggie had been found. She was all in one piece and clinging to him like a vine. But what about Ryan?

  With a will of iron, he reached behind him and took hold of her hands. Clasping them gently in his own, he rested them against his chest. His reason for being out in the midst of the storm faded. Drawing in a deep breath did nothing to clear his mind; it filled his senses with her sweet scent, reminding him of spring. Before she could befuddle his brain any further, he took a step back. His mind cleared. The distance definitely helped.

  “I’m sorry for plowing into ye.” Maggie stared at her feet.

  “What are you running from?” The voice to her right startled her.

  Joshua realized Maggie didn’t know they weren’t alone.

  “Merciful heavens,” she said, looking at the group of men now standing in a semi-circle around her.

  “Don’t be afraid, Maggie,” Joshua spoke reassuringly. “Sheriff Coltrane and these good men came with me all the way from Milford to find you.”

  Eyes wide with shock, she simply nodded her understanding.

  “What are you running from?” Joshua asked.

  “Who, not what.”

  “Who is it?” Joshua tried to hang on to this rapidly dwindling patience. Standing so near to Maggie and not able to fully concentrate on the danger still at large was irritating. But not knowing if he had the right to hold her was killing him.

  “The man who stole me from me room.”

  “Stole you?” Sheriff Coltrane asked.

  Joshua watched her expression change; she obviously had forgotten they were not alone. She nodded. “He tied me up and flung me across his lap like a sack of potatoes.”

  The waver in her voice told Joshua more than her words, as she recounted her tale of the kidnapping. Fear was a normal reaction to being abducted; he sensed she was trying to keep her fear under rigid control. He was sorry he hadn’t been there to protect her and that she’d had to suffer the man’s rough treatment of her.

  “Coltrane, guard Maggie.”

  “I think—” the sheriff began.

  “She’ll be safer with you,” he said cryptically.

  “Joshua,” she rasped, then paused. “Have a care them.”

  He looked down at the heart-shaped face that had been haunting his every waking hour. The depth of emotion on her face rocked him to the soles of his boots. Either she gave her heart easily, or she was reacting to the terror of her ordeal. Did he dare to hope she really cared for him? Either way, he couldn’t afford to be swayed by her beauty now. Duty called. He nodded and turned to go.

  “Split up,” he ground out through clenched jaws, “and wait for my signal.”

  Making his way toward their quarry, Joshua focused on making as little sound as possible. He wanted to flush the man out and force him into the open. A whisper of sound from behind him on the left had him pause midstride. Holding his breath, he waited. When he heard it a second time, he slipped the loop off his holster and slowly drew his Peacemaker, before slipping back toward the direction of the sound.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, sticking his gun into the small of the man’s back.

  The man stiffened, but foolishly took another step forward.

  Joshua pulled back the trigger on his gun, letting the unmistakable sound speak for him.

  The man froze, dropped his gun, and slowly raised his hands high over his head.

  Joshua released the trigger and nudged the man again. “Bring ‘em down real slow,” he ordered, reaching for one wrist and bringing it around behind the man’s broad back.

  The man tensed and Joshua warned, “I wouldn’t try it, unless you’re anxious to see daylight through your shirtfront.”

  The instant the man’s muscles relaxed, Joshua wrenched his other arm around and snapped on the handcuffs. “Now walk.”

  The rest of the search party obviously heard the scuffle. They reappeared one by one.

  “You ready to call it a night, Marshal?” one man called out.

  “I sure could use a cup of coffee,” another replied.

  “Good work,” Joshua said, and meant it. Six men could cover more ground faster than one man alone.

  “Where’s Maggie?” he asked, after scanning the spot where he’d left her in the sheriff’s care.

  “Over there,” the sheriff answered. “Soon as you went off to find the kidnapper, she curled up against that rock, tucked her head onto her knees—hasn’t budged since.”


  Joshua stalked over toward the dark shape that appeared to be part of the large bolder. “She’ll catch pneumonia sitting in the wet like that. She’s soaked to the skin.”

  He didn’t even try to keep the concern from his words. Let them think what they would. He was too relieved that Maggie was safe to worry over his choice of words.

  “I wrapped her in a piece of oilskin I found around your bedroll.”

  Joshua looked over his shoulder at the sheriff and nodded his head. “Sorry,” he said slowly, and meant it.

  She had him tied up in knots and acting before thinking. Neither action would help Maggie or himself.

  “I’m done in,” he offered by way of explanation. “We’d best mount up.”

  “What about him?” the sheriff asked, pointing toward the handcuffed man.

  “Send one of your men back to find the horses.”

  “Will you wait here?”

  Joshua shook his head. “I’ll head toward the Ryan place; it’s halfway between here and town. Miss Flaherty needs something dry to put on and something warm to fill her belly.”

  “Take two men with you,” the sheriff said. “I’ll send someone out to the ranch if I need you.”

  Joshua walked over toward Maggie and for a moment just stood there looking down at her. Rain splashed in the puddles pooling around the rock, and the woman huddled against it. He could ignore the cool drops that spattered against his face and neck, but it was beyond his power to ignore the woman who had come into his well-ordered life and turned it upside down.

  Regret sifted through feelings of hurt and confusion. What would he do if she truly was spoken for? Did he dare try to sway her feelings away from Ryan? He shook his head—wouldn’t be right. He wasn’t some young hothead who couldn’t control his trigger finger or his heart. Besides, he owed it to Maggie to respect her wishes. He had no one to blame but himself for allowing himself to be attracted, then distracted, by her.

  Kneeling in the mud, he scooped the woman and the tarp into his arms. Her soft sigh was music to his ears. The way she snuggled closer against his chest warmed the cold spot over his heart. Maggie was attracted to him; he’d swear to that fact on a stack of Bibles. But had she given her heart? How soon before he could work up the courage to ask her flat-out? Depending on her answer, he’d stake a claim of his own, or saddle up and ride off into the sunset.

  ***

  Maggie woke feeling groggy, but warm and secure. The rocking motion kept her from waking fully. A rhythmic thud softly pounded beneath her right cheek. She sighed deeply, unable to remember the last time she’d felt so protected, so safe.

  Joshua.

  The last thing she could clearly recall was being held in his strong arms. She opened one eye partway and looked up through her lashes. Dawn was breaking and with it the storm clouds. Relief spread through her like a balm rubbed on sore muscles. All the worry of the past few days shriveled up and died. I’m safe, as long as I’m right here in his arms. She was about to ask him how long he planned to stay on in town, when he spoke to someone.

  “Go knock on the door. See if you can rouse anyone.”

  The sound of spurs jingling and boot heels thudding against the ground told her two things. They were not alone, and they had reached a destination of some sort.

  She was about to open both eyes, when Joshua surprised her by pulling her close and brushing his warm lips against the top of her head. Her whole scalp tingled in response to the caress.

  “Why, Maggie?”

  The strangled sound of his voice made her heart pound and her mind race to understand him. Why what? Before she could figure out what he was talking about, the sound of a door slamming and boot heels pounding on wood startled her.

  “Maggie?” a very familiar, gruff voice called out. “Maggie, me darlin’?”

  Seamus! Before she could speak, she was hauled from Joshua’s arms and wrapped tightly in a hug that threatened to rob her lungs of air and snap every one of her ribs.

  “You’ve come! I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” her brother exclaimed, whirling her around in his arms.

  “Me head’s spinin’, ye overgrown beast. Put me down!”

  She laughed, cuffing the side of his head affectionately. Her brother stopped spinning and pulled her back against the wide expanse of his sleep-warmed chest. He placed a noisy kiss on both of her cheeks, before she could fully catch her breath.

  “Put me down.”

  “So this is yer Maggie?” a tall well-built man with hair as red as her own said, walking toward her.

  “Aye,” Seamus answered, “my very own.” He set her on her feet, and wrapped a hand about her waist.

  The sound of a horse riding away had her craning her neck around in time to see Joshua urge his horse into a flat-out gallop. Her heart lurched at the sight of his broad back disappearing into the misty light of dawn. Disbelief had her rubbing her fists in her eyes. He was leaving!

  The joy of her reunion with her brother faded until a dull achy feeling crept up from her toes and settled in her stomach. Despair coiled around her heart and pulled taut. She had the awful premonition that she’d never see Marshal Turner again. The very thought of never looking into those grass-green eyes, never sweeping her fingertips across his handsome features again, made her lightheaded. But the prospect of never being held against his broad chest, never being able to hear the steady beat of his heart, made her own clench in pain. Not since Rory died had she felt such an overwhelming sorrow. She felt the emptiness to the depths of her soul.

  “Maggie,” her brother called her again. “You must be exhausted,” he soothed. “Come inside, I’d like you to meet the men who’ve slaved alongside me to build all that you see.” The pride in her brother’s voice was unmistakable.

  Maggie didn’t know if she could hide the feelings running riot in her breast. The marshal’s desertion and rejection had opened up the door to emotions she’d kept safely locked away for years. But she had to try to appear normal, for her brother’s sake.

  “ ‘Tis a fine job ye’ve done lads,” she said, acknowledging each man with a quivering smile.

  Only one man seemed to notice her smile did not reach her eyes. His gaze flicked toward the rapidly shrinking form of the man who rode like the devil was chasing him.

  Maggie started when the silent man turned to look at her. The livid scar slashing across his cheek still looked painful. “Who did this to ye?” she asking touching her fingertips to his chin.

  “Rustlers,” Seamus answered for the man.

  “I may be able to fix something to ease the pain,” she offered, looking over her shoulder one last time. But Joshua was gone. A wave of cold swept through her, making her shudder.

  Why hadn’t she taken the time to thank him? Because he’d gone after the kidnapper, she reasoned. But then why hadn’t she said good-bye? Why hadn’t he?

  Seamus. She’d traveled more miles than she’d care to count bringing the proof of the ranch’s ownership to her brother. It was time to focus on the reason for her being in Emerson.

  “Maggie, you’re shivering.”

  The concern in her brother’s voice brought unwanted tears to her eyes. She blinked them away.

  “I had a bit of a time last night,” she said, stumbling when a stabbing pain shot through the left side of her face from jaw to crown.

  “Here now, lass. Let me help—”

  She reached out to grab a hold of the hand a dark-haired man held out to her, and winced at the loudly uttered curse that fell from his lips. The horror in the man’s voice had her straightening to her feet and looking over her shoulder to see what worried him so.

  Someone tugged on her hands, snapping her attention back to the men on the porch.

  “What are ye—” The words died in her throat at the sight of her raw wrists. “Well now, that explains the stingin’.”

  “Maggie, you’re bleeding!

  Her brother sounded as if he would weep over that fact.

>   “I’ll be fine,” she said, softly, cupping the side of his face in her hand.

  “Jamie—her face—” the red-headed man rasped.

  “Well now, I didn’t have a chance to clean meself up. If ye’ll point me toward the soap and a bit of warm water—”

  Her brother grabbed her by the upper arms, cutting off her words. “Who hit you?” he demanded in a deadly voice that promised retribution.

  “No one, I—”

  “I want the man’s name.”

  “If ye must know the whole of it, can I sit down through the tellin’?”

  “Come with me, lass.” A bull of a man with the dark hair held out his arm to her.

  Reacting to the kindness and display of manners, Maggie gave him her arm and let him lead her into the kitchen. Let her brother follow or not, as he chose. What little energy she felt after seeing him slipped away, leaving her feeling ready to drop.

  “Sean! Is there hot water for tea?” Seamus snapped out. He walked into the kitchen behind them, stopping to glare down at her.

  She shifted under her brother’s scrutiny, straightening in the chair until she no longer slumped.

  “Only coffee, we’ve no tea.”

  “Flynn, bring that pitcher of water over.”

  “Mick, lad—”

  A tall gangly boy walked into the kitchen from the darkened hallway and stopped in from of Maggie. Without asking, he took her hands in his and studied the battered flesh on her wrists, then looked up and studied her face.

  “Me ma used to have marks like this on her,” he said quietly, gently lowering her hands back into her lap.

  “I used to believe her when she told me she’d fallen, or caught her hand—” The poor boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, he was trying so hard not to show any emotion in front of the men.

  Maggie swallowed a lump of sympathy, she’d felt constrict her throat at the boy’s words. He and his mother must have lived through some very hard times.