The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  One elegant russet eyebrow arched. “Going forward?”

  The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Aren’t you the one who told me not to stay away?”

  She gave a little nod. “I do recall something like that.”

  He lowered his head until his lips hovered just above hers. “If you wanna take it back, tell me now.”

  “I have no regrets, Dean,” she murmured, the words barely audible as she slid her arms around his waist.

  “Good,” he replied before he lowered his mouth to hers.

  No regrets. No staying away.

  It had been stupid to try.

  For better or for worse—for now, anyway—they were in this together.

  And when it came time for her to leave, Dean would just have to find a way to deal with it.

  Chapter Thirty

  Courtney opened her eyes slowly, fearing that the lovely dream she had been floating along in was about to be chased away by reality. But the dream was reality.

  Dean lay beside her, sprawled on his back with one arm curled around her as she rested her head on his shoulder. She had one leg draped over his, and her hair had gotten twisted around his arm. His heartbeat was slow and steady beneath her hand, and the masculine scent of his skin was present in every breath she drew.

  The sun was rising beyond the window in shades of orange and red, but she wasn’t ready to leave the night behind and greet the day. The night had been too lovely…too wonderful and free and beautiful. If she had her way, they would remain there together indefinitely.

  With a quiet sigh, she slowly rose to her elbow to tug her hair free, intending to scoot to the edge of the bed. But she didn’t make it very far. Dean’s arm tightened around her, and a low, rumbling sound of protest issued from his throat.

  “Where’re you going?” he asked, his voice sleepy and rough. The sound of it traveled through her like a spark, reigniting the flames she thought had burned out the night before.

  “It’s morning,” she murmured in reply. “We should be getting up.”

  He made another rumbling sound as he brought his other hand to her thigh, where it rested across his. The rough surface of his palm skimmed over her soft skin. “I say we stay right here.”

  Courtney’s quiet laugh turned to a sigh as his hand came up to grasp the curve of her hip in a firm grip. “Don’t you have work you need to get to?” she asked, feeling obligated to point out their responsibilities despite her desire to remain in his arms.

  “I’d rather stay right here.”

  “All day?” She was unable to hide her surprise and delight at the thought.

  His eyes opened a crack, and her breath halted at the light of his blue gaze peeking from between the fringe of his lashes. Despite his sleepy state, his eyes were bright and striking and so beautifully intense.

  Rather than answering with words, he swept his hand up along her side, allowing his thumbs to brush purposely over the curve of her breast before he slid his hand beneath the fall of her hair to cup the back of her neck. With gentle but insistent strength, he drew her down. Her hair fell across his chest, and her breasts pressed firmly to his side as he brought her mouth to his.

  His tongue swept across the seam of her lips. She opened on a sigh, and he took her breathy offering with a plunging, velvety stroke that elicited a husky moan.

  Dean rolled over, pressing her into the mattress as he settled between her legs. She held her breath, anticipating his possession.

  Lowering his head, he placed a soft and gentle kiss on her lips. For a silent moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Communicating without words. Then Courtney swept her hands down his back to grasp his firm buttocks, and he entered her in one sure, swift motion.

  * * *

  Some time later, they eventually made their way downstairs, where they enjoyed some food that Jimena had made and left for them.

  Courtney blushed at the thought that the older woman had been down in the kitchen while she and Dean had been enjoying their not-so-lazy morning abed. But the embarrassment didn’t last beyond Dean asking if she wanted to take a bath with him.

  Though they certainly got clean with all the soapy lather being smoothed across heated skin and the lovely, relaxing scalp massage Dean had given her as he’d worked the suds through her hair, the experience was unlike any bath Courtney had ever imagined and infinitely more pleasurable. She very nearly fell asleep nestled between Dean’s legs, leaning back against the solid expanse of his chest.

  But he wasn’t in the mood to waste a single moment of the day.

  As soon as they dried off, he suggested a ride.

  It was sunny and warm with a bit of a breeze to keep them cool, and they spent the next few hours riding through the beautiful Montana plains. Dean pointed out some of his favorite hideouts when he had been a kid: the swimming hole where he and Randall would meet Anne and her brother, Clinton, on the hottest days of summer, the makeshift racetrack where they’d competed to see who was the fastest rider, the cluster of boulders they’d used to practice roping.

  Courtney loved it.

  Not only because she could see by the warm curve of his mouth and the gentle slope of his brow just how much Dean was enjoying himself, but also because it was all so new to her. The sheer expanse of wilderness surrounding them astonished her. She had no idea a person could see so far without buildings to block the view. The sky was an infinite canopy of azure. The breeze smelled of sunshine, wildflowers, and sweetgrass.

  It made her want to let down her hair and roll up her sleeves to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin.

  So that is what she did.

  Drawing her mare to a gentle stop, she looped the reins over the saddle horn and released the end of her braid.

  Dean pulled up and twisted around in his saddle to watch her as she combed her fingers through her hair and then flipped the cuffs of her blouse back until her arms were exposed. She didn’t notice the odd look on his face until she’d had finished and was able to nudge her horse forward again.

  As her eyes met Dean’s and she saw the quiet, simmering hunger in his gaze, the muscles of her thighs tensed. Her mare shuffle-stepped in confusion, and Courtney quickly grabbed hold of the saddle horn to steady herself, laughing gently at her momentary feeling of panic.

  When she looked at Dean again, it was to find that the hunger had been replaced by a quiet, shadowed look of concern.

  But then he turned around and urged his horse forward, continuing their ride.

  * * *

  “Dean? Dean, where the hell are you?”

  Courtney stirred from a delicious slumber to the sound of Randall’s shouts followed by a slamming of the front door.

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes and sat up to see Dean already sitting on the edge of the bed. She glanced out the window and noted that the sky was already alight with the rising sun.

  In the last few days, she and Dean had been indulging in more leisurely mornings. Though he hadn’t taken a full day off from his duties as boss of the ranch, he had been making an effort to stick around for breakfast and had even managed to take her riding each afternoon. And their nights…their nights had been filled with the pleasure of each other.

  “What is going on?” she asked, still half-asleep and confused by the shouting.

  “I don’t know,” Dean mumbled as he rubbed his hands over his face.

  “Dean! Get your ass out of bed,” his brother called up the stairs. “It happened again. Not long ago, and there are tracks.”

  “I’m coming!” Randall’s last words had Dean jumping from the bed and scrambling to get dressed.

  Courtney scooted to the edge of the bed to reach for her own clothes. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  Courtney bit her tongue against furt
her questions but kept dressing anyway. By the time Dean was thundering down the stairs, she was right behind him, still plaiting her hair into a braid down her back.

  Randall was pacing in the entryway, and though his blue eyes flickered over the sight of the two of them descending the stairs together, both clearly having just risen from bed, he quickly turned his attention to Dean and gave his brother a hard-eyed stare that seemed to say far more than his next words revealed.

  “The bastard got to the horses this time. Two in the pasture, along with several more cattle. Right by the damn homestead.”

  Courtney stood just beyond Dean’s shoulder. She couldn’t see his face, but she could see the way every muscle in his body drew taut with barely suppressed violence.

  “There’re tracks?”

  “Yep, but a storm is coming, so they won’t hold for long.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Dean swept past his brother and out the door. Randall followed quickly on his heels.

  Courtney rushed after both of them, only to stop halfway through the door as Dean suddenly turned back around. His expression worried her. There was so much anger in his drawn features, but she also saw a weary kind of fear and sadness.

  She stepped forward, not really thinking, just feeling a need to touch him, but his scowl darkened, stopping her approach. “You’re going to Randall’s for the day.” He glanced at his brother. “I assume you told the women to stay inside.”

  “Damn right I did,” Randall replied. “With a shotgun and instructions to shoot if anyone comes near.”

  Dean nodded, then looked back to Courtney. “You’ll ride with us to Randall’s and stay there until we return. Understand?”

  Courtney nodded and held her tongue against the many questions spinning in her mind. Now was clearly not the time to press for information.

  Less than thirty minutes later, thunder rolled fiercely in the distance as Courtney stood in Pilar’s doorway, watching Dean and Randall ride off at a breakneck gallop. Once the men were out of sight, Pilar urged her to come inside before bolting the door behind her.

  Jimena gave her a tight smile from the kitchen, where she was stirring something in a large pot on the stove.

  “Come,” Pilar said, “let’s sit at the table. Have you eaten?”

  Courtney shook her head. “No. We were still asleep when Randall came by. What is going on?”

  “First we eat, then we’ll talk. We will feel better once our bellies are full.”

  Courtney smiled at her friend. “You sound like your mother.”

  Pilar chuckled as she carefully lowered herself into a wooden chair at the kitchen table. Though Courtney knew it was still a couple weeks before Pilar expected to go into labor, the woman looked dreadfully uncomfortable. It amazed Courtney that she had never once heard the mother-to-be complain about the many physical tasks she still managed to accomplish every day. Back home, an expectant mother would have gone into confinement months ago, remaining in her bed to be kept comfortable until the baby arrived.

  “Do you know what this is all about?” Courtney asked as they settled at the table, unable to wait for her questions to be answered.

  A swift but telling glance passed between Jimena and Pilar before the younger woman spoke. “For some time now, someone has been attacking Lawton cattle. It started with just one animal found dead. Many months passed before the second attack.” Pilar paused and pressed her hand against the side of her belly as she bowed her head for a moment. After a long breath, she continued, “There have been more than a half dozen incidents now, counting the one from last night. Each coming more swiftly upon the last.”

  An icy chill swept through Courtney. “That is terrifying. Do they know who is responsible?”

  Pilar nodded and looked down at her hands where they rested on the scarred wooden tabletop. “They suspect the attacker is from the MacDonnells’ ranch.”

  “What?” Courtney was stunned. The MacDonnells had been so nice and welcoming to her the other day. She could not contemplate the idea that they might perpetrate violence upon the Lawtons’ stock. Though the suspicion that they were involved certainly explained Dean’s reaction to their visit. “Why would they do such a thing?”

  Pilar turned her hands palm up and gave a shrug. Her eyes were sad as they met Courtney’s.

  And she knew.

  It was connected to Anne’s death.

  Dean believed he was to blame for not being there to prevent the accident that took her life. Was he right in believing the MacDonnells blamed him as well?

  The day they’d come to visit, they had claimed to hold no ill will. In fact, they had wished Dean well. Courtney had only seen sincerity and earnest sadness from both of the MacDonnells.

  Not so for their foreman, however.

  She recalled the man’s cold silence as he hung back from the others during their visit. Could he be the culprit?

  If the tracks left behind from this last attack led to the MacDonnells’ place, Courtney could only hope Anne’s family wasn’t involved.

  Glancing to the window, she noted how dark the sky was getting, though the day was just beginning. Thunder boomed loud and heavy in the distance.

  The approaching storm was going to be wicked.

  Jimena came to the table with two bowls of steaming, rich-smelling stew.

  Pilar made a little sound in her throat and turned her head away. Jimena clucked her tongue and looked hard at her daughter. Concern drew heavy lines in the older woman’s face as she ran her hand down Pilar’s weary spine.

  “How long?” she asked.

  Pilar gave a short shake of her head.

  Jimena pressed her hand to the flushed curve of her daughter’s cheek, urging Pilar to look at her. The look that passed between the women was poignant and beautiful.

  “It started before dawn. I didn’t tell Randall because I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. But there is no denying it now.”

  Jimena clucked her tongue again. “Eat, Daughter. You will need the strength. I pray for your husband’s swift return and the safe arrival of your child.”

  Courtney clasped her hands and added her own silent plea to Jimena’s prayer.

  The rest of that day passed in a strange alteration of time. Moments seemed to last forever, while hours passed in a blink.

  Though Pilar had been laboring already for several hours, the progress was slow and continued to be for several more. It was amazing to watch as Pilar’s body and mind slowly accepted the increasing intensity of her pains. She walked when it felt good to do so, she sat in the rocking chair when she needed rest, she breathed deeply when she could and squeezed Courtney’s hand in a death grip when she couldn’t.

  Jimena was all over the place—gathering bed linens and encouraging Pilar to drink water and keep eating in small bites when she wasn’t feeling nauseated.

  Courtney felt helpless and terribly ignorant. All she could do was stay by her friend’s side and complete any task Jimena gave her.

  Throughout much of the day, wind whipped around the little house while thunder crashed loudly overhead and lightning split the sky with striking force. But the ferocity of the storm was barely acknowledged.

  An even greater drama of life was unfolding within the walls of the small home.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “We’ve gotta hole up until this storm passes,” Randall shouted across the swirling wind. “The tracks will be washed away as soon as the rain hits, but we won’t make it much longer without shelter.”

  He was right, but Dean resisted. So far, the tracks hadn’t been leading toward the MacDonnells’ ranch as they’d both expected. Instead, they’d headed out toward the open range. It was frustrating beyond measure. Dean just wanted to see this matter finished once and for all. No more death. No more violence.

  “Come on, Dean. We’ll ri
de over to the MacDonnells’ place after the storm passes.”

  Dean had wanted the proof the tracks would have given him. But Randall was right. It was time to face Anne’s family and hash out their grievance with him. And maybe come to terms with his grievance with himself.

  Not to mention the fact that this last attack had been far too close to home. The killing of a man’s horses was a serious offense. If he didn’t put a stop to this now, there was no telling where the next attack would hit. And on whom.

  He thought of Courtney as she had been that morning in his bed. All soft and warm and pliant in his arms.

  Then he thought of Jimena and Pilar and the babe on the way.

  His family had been threatened. The attacks were escalating.

  But Randall was right. They weren’t going to get anywhere once the full force of the storm hit. Finding shelter on the open range was not an easy task, but they made it to a group of large boulders where the cowboys would sometimes make camp. At least it provided a wall against the incoming elements and space where they could secure the horses. All they could do then was huddle in and wait out the storm.

  It was another couple hours before he and Randall got back on their horses, and Dean’s patience had worn down to nothing. They rode to the neighboring homestead in determined silence. By the time they thundered into the MacDonnells’ yard, the late-afternoon sun was starting to peek through the parting clouds.

  Horatio MacDonnell stepped out onto his front porch just as Dean and Randall drew in their horses.

  Dean studied the older man’s expression. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t the calm curiosity and almost hopeful wariness he saw in the familiar brown eyes.

  “Boys,” Horatio said with a nod of greeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Though by the looks on your faces, I’m thinking this won’t be pleasurable at all.”

  “We’ve had enough, MacDonnell,” Randall blurted angrily.

  Horatio’s brows lifted. “Enough of what?”