The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  “Can I go with you?”

  He glanced at her. “Why?”

  The look in her eyes suggested the answer should have been obvious. “Since I’m to be living here for a while, I may as well get properly introduced to your family, don’t you think?” She tilted her head, and a hint of challenge entered her tone with the next words. “Or were you hoping to keep them in the dark about our circumstances? I can understand if you’re reluctant to admit what your reckless behavior has wrought. I’d be ashamed as well.”

  Dean didn’t bother with a reply as he flicked the reins and started off toward the narrow dirt road that led to Randall’s.

  He wasn’t proud of what he’d done yesterday, but he sure as hell wasn’t ashamed of anything. Marrying the woman had been a huge mistake, but how could he have known she wasn’t who he thought she was? How could he have known Wilkerson wouldn’t grant an annulment?

  Shit. He was making excuses for himself, and he knew it.

  He shouldn’t have acted so rashly in the first place. Shouldn’t have married someone when he’d had zero intention of honoring the commitment. It didn’t matter that there were no vows spoken, no promises to care for and protect and honor and obey. All of that had been implied in the act. And Dean hadn’t intended any of it.

  There was no honor in what he’d done.

  He didn’t like knowing it was true and hated having to admit it to her even more. Still, the least she could have done was accept his apology.

  But of course not. The woman was intent upon being contrary.

  The drive around the horse pasture was not long, but by the time he drew the wagon up to Randall’s house, Dean was tense and impatient, something he had been a lot since coming into contact with the Eastern lady. He expected his brother to be out on the range, but Pilar and Jimena were likely to be home. Jimena, of course, had already encountered his bride, but Pilar had not.

  And Pilar had a way of subtly telling a person exactly what she thought without having to say a whole lot. And lately, she had not been inclined to hold anything back.

  This was not going to be a pleasant visit.

  Pulling the brake handle on the wagon, Dean hopped to the ground once again. With his gaze lowered, he made his way around to the other side. Then he tipped his head back to see his bride standing on the running board, her hand extended oh so elegantly as she waited for him to offer his own.

  Some stubborn element inside him refused to acknowledge her none-too-subtle gesture. Doing exactly what he knew she was trying to avoid, he grasped her swiftly about her narrow middle and swung her to the ground. He was ridiculously pleased by her soft little grunt of exasperation at the abrupt maneuver.

  Once her feet were on the ground, he didn’t release her. Not right away. He stood there, his hands wrapped around her waist, her hands still tightly grasping his biceps, until she tipped her head back to look up at him.

  There it was—that fierce little flash in her gaze and the haughty irritation she so carefully concealed beneath a flat expression, followed by the tiniest parting of her lips as her breath came just a bit faster.

  As soon as he saw it, he realized it was exactly what he’d been after by ignoring her hand. He also recalled too late what her fiery nature did to him as his body heated up in all the right places.

  He couldn’t let her go. He didn’t want to. In fact, against all rational reason, right then, he wanted to pull her closer. He wanted to feel the heat of her irritation through the new dress she wore. He wanted to know how far he’d have to lower his head to meet her mouth with his.

  What the hell?

  No, he didn’t.

  He dropped his hands from her body and stepped back, catching a glimpse of something strange flickering in her eyes before he turned toward the house to see Pilar already stepping onto the little front porch.

  The house Randall built for his bride—per his oddly stubborn insistence, without Dean’s help—was small and quaint and perfect for a budding family. Or a blooming family, as the case was.

  Pilar was a petite young woman with large eyes the color of rich chocolate and thick black hair. She had a round, sweet face, a wide mouth prone to laughter or a curt word when appropriate, and a belly that was currently very big with the impending birth of their first child.

  From the day Randall had returned from Texas with his unexpected bride, Pilar and her mother had started making subtle changes to the Lawton Ranch with their feminine influence.

  Augie Lawton had spent thousands of hours ensuring that Dean understood the vital elements of running a successful cattle spread. Deviations from his instructions were met with swift and firm discipline.

  When his granddad passed on, Dean honored Augie’s memory and his legacy by running the ranch in the way his granddad taught him.

  Pilar and Jimena’s arrival had brought more than a few changes.

  Having been so accustomed to the ways things were run by Augie Lawton, Dean had struggled with the effect the women had on the place. But he saw how happy his brother was with Pilar, and although he’d have a hard time admitting it out loud, Dean came to appreciate having an extended family around.

  Pilar paused at the edge of the porch, drying her hands with a towel. “Hola, cuñado,” she said with a smile and a nod toward Dean before shifting her gaze to the woman standing beside him.

  “Hi there, Pilar,” Dean replied. “Randall out on the range?”

  “Of course.” Her answer was uttered with a slight hint of humor as though she recognized his discomfort. There was a long pause before she turned a smile on the woman beside him. “Hello and welcome,” she said.

  “Ah, right,” Dean said, glancing to the woman next to him. She stood with a pleasant expression on her face, eyes and lips tilted upward in a gentle smile.

  Why the hell had he never seen that sweet expression before?

  “This is Pilar, Randall’s wife. You met her mother, Jimena Molinaro Garcia, yesterday.”

  “Yes, she was very kind,” Courtney said, stepping forward. “I believe I must thank you for lending me your clothes yesterday.”

  “Please, it was nothing at all. I am glad I could help.” Pilar turned her dark eyes to Dean and tilted her head expectantly.

  He froze, understanding exactly what they were waiting on. He took his hat off and pushed a hand back through his hair, stalling. “This is, ah… I’m sure Randall already told you what happened. She’s gonna be staying a few weeks until we can get the matter taken care of.”

  Both women watched him stutter through the introduction. Pilar grew increasingly amused while his bride’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “You have no idea what my name is, do you?” she asked pertly.

  He frowned. “I would, if you’d ever mentioned it.”

  “I would have mentioned it if you had asked me for it.” She propped her hands on her slim hips, getting more disgruntled by the second.

  “I didn’t figure you’d be around long enough for it to matter.”

  “Well, now we know that’s not the case.”

  They stared at each other. Tense, combative, and way too close.

  Manners demanded he introduce her properly, and to do that, he needed to know her name. But something about the woman just made him want to aggravate her, so he didn’t ask the obvious question. “Yep,” he said with tight smile and a tip of his head. “For now, at least, you’re Mrs. Lawton.”

  The direction of her gaze dropped briefly from his eyes to his mouth, and when it did, he thought he detected something curious in her expression. But then it was gone as she cleared her throat and pinned him with a hot little glare. “Don’t call me that. We may be married, but as you declared earlier, I am not your wife. Soon, this will all be just a bad memory.”

  “Suit yourself, princess,” Dean said, slapping his hat back on his head. The fir
e in the woman was really something. He wondered how hot she’d burn if she were truly furious…or stirred by a different sort of passion altogether. “I just came by to drop this off.” He reached into the back of the wagon and lifted the package he’d picked up from the post office. “Where do you want it?”

  “In the house, please,” Pilar answered, stepping aside to let him pass by.

  Dean set the crate down inside the doorway, then headed back to the wagon. The two women stood in awkward silence as he leapt up into the driver’s seat. “I’ve got work to do before sundown, so I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.”

  Then with a flick of the reins, he drove off with a heavy sigh of relief. He was being a coward by leaving the woman with Pilar, but he figured she’d be better off there with company than sitting alone in his house all day.

  He was doing her a favor, really.

  He just wasn’t too sure she’d see it that way.

  * * *

  Courtney fumed as she watched her temporary husband ride away, unceremoniously dumping her off in his sister-in-law’s hands.

  Point to Lawton.

  Realizing she had no choice but to make the most of her current situation, she turned back to Pilar and offered a weak smile. “I am sorry.”

  “Lo siento.”

  They both spoke at once, then laughed.

  “There is no excuse for such behavior,” Courtney offered first.

  “No, I cannot imagine what came over him. Dean is not usually so…” Pilar trailed off as she searched for the right word.

  “Rude,” Courtney offered. “Obstinate. Domineering.”

  Pilar laughed again, the sound smooth and deep. “No, no. He can be all those things, though my husband says it was not always this way. I think I was going to say he is not usually so uncertain.”

  Now that was not a word Courtney would have applied to the swaggering cowboy.

  “Please, come inside,” Pilar said with a welcoming gesture. “The heat of the day will be on us shortly. Would you like refreshment? A drink or something to eat?”

  Courtney hesitated. “I don’t wish to be a burden to you.”

  “Not at all. Family is never a burden.”

  “Thank you. That is very kind. I haven’t eaten yet today, so to be honest, I am really quite hungry. My name is Courtney Adams, by the way.”

  “Hola, Courtney, welcome to my home,” Pilar replied with a wide smile, and she motioned for Courtney to follow her into the house. “Come, my mother is baking some bread, but we can have something fixed to eat in a couple minutes. Then we will enjoy some cool lemonade and chat about the rude manners of men.”

  Courtney laughed. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend the afternoon,” she replied sincerely.

  “And you can explain to me how you came to be married to el jefe. Randall told me, but I can hardly believe what he said.”

  Courtney gave a small shake of her head, thinking of the man who’d just driven away. “I’m not sure I can explain it properly myself.”

  “Did he really take you before Judge Wilkerson minutes after meeting you?”

  “He did, though I had no idea at the time that we were being married.”

  The other woman shook her head as they entered the house. The front room was an open area with a fireplace, a large sofa, and comfortable chairs, but they continued on to the kitchen, where Jimena greeted them with a wide smile.

  “Please have a seat,” Pilar said with a gesture toward the kitchen table before she turned to her mother and said something in Spanish. Jimena replied with a ready nod and started gathering food to set on the table while Pilar poured some lemonade from a metal pitcher on the counter. She brought a glass to Courtney and took a seat beside her.

  “I just cannot imagine Dean doing such a thing. He does nothing without thinking it through. He is very…deliberate, I think is the word. The actions you describe sound more like something my own husband would do.”

  Jimena said something that had Pilar laughing as a pretty rosy tone colored her cheeks. “Es verdad,” she replied to her mother before directing her next comment to Courtney. “When Randall decided he wanted to marry me, he didn’t hesitate in his courtship. But I was reluctant to trust the interest of such a handsome, reckless vaquero,” she explained. “For all I knew, he proposed to women all the time. I resisted for many days, until he came to our house to speak with my mother.”

  Jimena laughed quietly as she ground dried corn in a wide wooden bowl. It was becoming clear that although Jimena did not speak English, she could understand it well enough. Looking over her shoulder at her daughter she said, “Un hombre obstinado, enfermo de amor.”

  “He was very determined,” Pilar agreed, another pretty blush warming her skin. Turning back to Courtney, she explained, “He had somehow learned enough Spanish to ask my mother for her blessing of his courtship. I decided he might be a worthy man after all. I was not wrong.”

  Though Courtney could well imagine wide-smiling Randall going so far in his efforts to win Pilar’s affection, she could not see his ill-tempered brother doing anything similar.

  “Well, I am afraid my situation is quite different. Unfortunately, the judge will not grant an annulment for another four weeks. He insists we get to know each other before ending the hasty marriage.”

  Pilar’s expression was sympathetic. “That does sound like something Judge Wilkerson would do.” She reached out and gave Courtney’s hand an encouraging pat. “Please let us know if there in any way we can make your stay more enjoyable. I can well recall my first months on the ranch. There was a lot to get used to.”

  Courtney smiled her gratitude, but it was hard for her to imagine there being anything at all enjoyable about having to spend the next four weeks in the company of the irritable boss of Lawton Ranch.

  No matter how nice he might be to look at.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was nearing sundown when Dean looked up from the fence he was repairing to see Randall riding in on the dappled gray mustang he’d had since he was fifteen. His brother had named the poor horse Lucy despite the fact he was a gelding. It had always been Randall’s way to be unexpected and ridiculous.

  A handful of ranch hands had ridden in just ahead of Randall. For the most part, the men spent weeks at a time camping under the stars and eating from the chuck wagon that traveled with them, but whenever any of them were near enough to make use of the bunkhouse, they didn’t resist the opportunity to enjoy Jimena’s cooking.

  Aside from his brother, who was foreman, Dean had nearly twenty-five hands working Lawton ranch. It was the most the ranch had ever had. After Augie’s death, Dean had dedicated himself to making the ranch prosper, and his work had paid off.

  After securing his gelding by the water trough, Randall walked up to Dean with tense shoulders and a hard glint in his eyes. “I found four more near Freeman’s Rock.”

  Dean swallowed an expletive. He didn’t want his brother to know how much the loss bothered him. Instead, he gave a short nod and turned to rest his forearms on top of the fence, sending his gaze eastward. Randall’s house stood past the pasture, and beyond that, where the river straightened out and began to flow faster, the land opened up to a few hundred thousand acres of free range.

  “Something’s gotta be done.” Randall’s voice was heavy with frustration.

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “How?”

  “I said I’ll see to it, and I will.”

  “Dammit, Dean, this ranch is partly mine. Granddad may have given you a ruling share and made you the boss, but almost half of those cattle are mine. We can deal with this problem together. There’s gotta be a way to find out who’s behind it.”

  If his brother didn’t have any idea who might be perpetrating the crimes, Dean preferred to keep it that way. Randall was likely to go off half-cocked, w
ithout any proof. Unfortunately, proof had been damned near impossible to come by. The killings were totally random, with no rhyme or reason behind when or where they occurred. And Dean was not about to go accusing anyone without solid evidence against them.

  “Maybe the MacDonnells know something,” Randall suggested as he came up beside him to rest his arms on the fence in a replica of Dean’s stance.

  Dean glanced sharply at his brother. “Why would you say that?”

  Randall shrugged. “Maybe the same thing is happening to their stock. We could work together.”

  Dean didn’t reply.

  “You can’t avoid them forever,” Randall said.

  “I don’t intend to.”

  “I could ride over there tomorrow and have a talk with Horatio. See if he knows anything or if he’s heard of any others in these parts describing the same incidents.”

  “No.”

  Randall pushed off from the fence in frustration. “Dammit, Dean. Let me do something. I can do more for this ranch than act like a glorified hand.”

  Dean understood his brother’s irritation. He did. But now wasn’t the time to be taking risks.

  “I get it, all right? I’ll think about giving you some more responsibilities. But I will not have you riding off to the MacDonnell’s place on this matter. Got it?”

  The two men squared off for a long moment. Both intense and stubborn. But Randall would back down eventually. Dean was still boss.

  Suddenly, his younger brother’s expression shifted into one of shock as his eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. “Shit! You think they’re responsible for the killings, don’t you?”

  Aw, hell.

  Dean had known Randall would come to that realization eventually. His brother was impulsive and wild, but he wasn’t stupid. Dean had just hoped to be able to resolve the issue first.

  “But that’s crazy,” Randall stated emphatically “The MacDonnells would never do such a thing.”

  Dean shook his head. No point hiding his thoughts now. “I don’t want to believe it either. But think back to when the first killing happened.” He waited to see the flicker of acknowledgment in his brother’s eyes. “Right. The day of Anne’s funeral. And the next?”