The Cowboy's Honor

by Amy Sandas

  “Your man is everything I imagined and more,” Courtney declared as soon as they were alone.

  “I know,” Alexandra replied with a wide grin. “I am sorry it took us so long to get here. We weren’t in Helena when your letter first arrived, but we headed out as soon as we could. I still cannot believe you left Geoffrey standing at the altar.”

  “It seems so long ago now, almost like it happened to a different woman. Like I was a different woman.”

  “From where I stand, it looks like that might be the truth of it,” Alexandra replied, her blue eyes sharp and knowing. “You’ve gotta tell me how on earth you ended up married to a cattle rancher.”

  Courtney sighed. “Oh, it’s such a strange story, I’m sure you won’t believe it. I honestly did not know I was being married until well after it was done. The judge refused to grant an annulment until we tried out being husband and wife for four weeks. We’ve got another eight days to go.”

  “That’s…that is, ah…”

  “Unbelievable. I know. But it’s true.”

  Alexandra leaned forward, her long black braid falling over her shoulder as she reached for Courtney’s hand. “And how have you been faring here as a cowboy’s bride?”

  Courtney looked down, then gave a shrug before she met her friend’s questioning, concerned gaze with a jaunty half smile. “I’d say I’ve managed pretty well. Better than I ever would have expected. I am learning to cook and speak Spanish, and Dean has been teaching me how to ride. I named two of the cutest baby goats you’ll ever see. Oh, and I helped to deliver a baby just last night.” She held her hands out to the side. “Which is why you found me in such a disheveled state. I’m afraid I haven’t slept much except brief little naps while Pilar labored.”

  Alexandra stared at her in stunned silence.

  When her friend’s shock continued for several minutes, Courtney laughed. “What is it? You are looking at me as though I just grew an extra head.”

  “Did you? Is another brain controlling my friend right now? Because that might explain things.”

  “Oh, come on now,” Courtney chided, her cheeks warming with a mixture of affronted pride and embarrassment. “I’m not so different. Perhaps I’ve just never had the opportunity to test myself. Maybe I’ve always had it in me to be a rancher’s wife and just had to come out here to find out.”

  Alexandra’s expression dimmed into a serious little frown. “You sound as though you wouldn’t mind continuing on as such.”

  Courtney considered lying. She realized how such a confession would appear to her friend. But as their eyes met in the quiet of the little parlor, Courtney didn’t want to keep the truth to herself any longer. “I want to stay,” she whispered.

  Alexandra blinked but did not look particularly surprised. “And your husband? What does he want?”

  Courtney dropped her gaze. “Dean is…proud and strong and committed to his responsibilities and this ranch.” She smiled softly. “He’s fiercely loyal and brave and stubborn and far too serious most of the time, though that has started to change.” She met Alexandra’s gaze. “He also has no desire to take on the burden of a wife he never wanted, especially not a woman like me who grew up pampered and privileged with no particular skills.”

  “I think you are selling yourself short.”

  Courtney smiled. “No, I’m not. You know where I came from. I can host a grand party and shop like I was born to it. This place—Dean—deserves more than what I have to offer.”

  Alexandra frowned, looking like she still wanted to argue. “I’m sorry, Court. Does he know how you feel?”

  She shook her head. Her throat was too tight to speak.

  “What if you told him?”

  Courtney looked at her friend in horror. “I could not handle that kind of rejection from him. And he would have to reject me. I am not the wife he wanted.”

  “Have you…been intimate?” Courtney’s involuntary blush answered that question quickly enough, and Alexandra continued bluntly, “You might not be able to get an annulment.”

  “Then we will get a divorce,” Courtney replied, doing her best to keep her heartbreak from showing in her voice, though she couldn’t hold back the tears that filled her eyes. “One way or another, our marriage will end after next week.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Alexandra murmured again.

  Courtney gave her a watery smile. “At least I had him for a little while.”

  Alexandra stood and reached for Courtney’s hands to bring her to her feet as well. “Why don’t you go get some sleep? You look dead on your feet, and things might feel different after you’ve gotten some rest.”

  Courtney gave a weak little laugh. “I do feel like I could curl up right here on the parlor floor and sleep for hours.”

  “Go on then. Malcolm and I will still be here when you awake.”

  * * *

  Dean turned on his heel and headed straight back to the kitchen. He’d left his mud-caked boots outside the back door, and he shoved his feet back into them before heading to the barn in long, angry strides. The words he’d just heard battered at his heart like a blacksmith’s hammer.

  “You might not be able to get an annulment.”

  “Then we will get a divorce. One way or another, our marriage will end after next week.”

  Nothing good ever came from eavesdropping, even when it was unintentional, and as soon as he heard Courtney’s firm declaration, he hadn’t wanted to hear another word.

  What had he expected? That she’d want to stay?

  What an idiot he was.

  He’d known from the start she didn’t belong here.

  He’d started to believe she might be different. That she might want to make a real go of things. That she might have grown fond of the ranch. Of him.

  She might enjoy their marriage bed, but he had been stupid to think her feelings extended any deeper.

  Idiot. That’s what he was.

  Storming into his office, he went straight for his grandfather’s bourbon. He poured a shot into a glass and downed it in one quick swallow, then poured himself another.

  “Mind if I join you for one of those?”

  Dean looked up to see the gunfighter standing in his doorway.

  “I was seeing to our horses,” the man said with a jerk of his head back toward the barn. “You passed right by me.”

  Dean would have preferred to drink alone, but he had no idea how to get rid of the man. “Suit yourself,” he finally said, reaching for another glass.

  “Name’s Malcolm Kincaid.”

  Dean had heard of him. A year ago or so, there had been a shoot-out over near Wolf Creek. Something about a corrupt land baron who had the law in his back pocket. From what Dean recalled, Kincaid was a bounty hunter who had seen justice meted out and freed a town from an oppressive tyrant in the process.

  Not a gunfighter, but damn close.

  Thinking of Kincaid’s vocation recalled Dean to his current problem with Hayes. Perhaps a former bounty hunter could be of some assistance. He was afraid he was gonna need all the help he could get to see the matter finally resolved.

  “Dean Lawton,” he replied as he handed a glass of bourbon to the other man. “Have a seat.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Before heading upstairs to the comfort of her bed, Courtney took a quick bath, marveling over the experience she’d had assisting Pilar with the birth of her son. She had never in her wildest imagining thought she might bear witness to such an event.

  The euphoric joy and love in Pilar’s eyes when she got her first look at her son had nearly stopped Courtney’s heart. And immediately had her wondering what it might be like to have a child. A child with Dean.

  The thought hadn’t left her all night as she waited for his safe return. When he had walked into the house and seen her holding the baby, she
could have sworn she saw the same longing she was feeling in his eyes.

  But it had probably been her lack of sleep that allowed such wishful thinking. He’d made it clear from the start that there was no future for them.

  Her limbs were heavy as she finished her bath and made her way up to her bedroom. She just needed a couple hours of sleep to restore herself. A couple hours and she wouldn’t feel so lost and sad when she should be feeling ecstatic at being reunited with Alexandra.

  Her gaze was cast downward in weariness as she entered her bedroom. Unfortunately, it kept her from noticing that someone else was already there.

  As Gilbert Hayes, MacDonnell’s foreman, stepped forward from behind her open door, Courtney sucked in a swift breath. Oddly, her first thought was one of confusion, but it didn’t take long for fear to crowd that out. There could be no good reason for the man to be in her bedroom. Before she could force her breath out again in a scream, he grabbed hold of her and pressed a heavy, foul-smelling hand hard over her mouth and nose.

  Her entire body froze in shock and terror. Her heart seemed to seize inside her, altering her perception of time. While her mind raced through the possible reasons he might have to attack her in such a manner, her gaze bounced around the room, seeking any means of getting away from him.

  As though sensing her rising urge to fight, Hayes pulled her close in a punishing grip. He lowered his head until his face was within an inch of hers, and the crazy light in his eyes caused her to stiffen with another flash of terror. “If I can’t have Anne, there’s no way in hell he gets to keep you.”

  Courtney drew a breath through flared nostrils, then nearly choked on the stench emanating from him. She noticed smears and streaks of dark stains on his hands, arms, and clothing. Stains that looked an awful lot like dried blood. Her stomach lurched.

  With a cry for help stuck behind the hand he had mashed over her mouth, she twisted in his arms. Her exhaustion was gone in a burst of panic and fury. How dare this man sneak into her bedroom and assault her! She lashed out with jabbing elbows and kicking feet. She had no idea what he wanted with her, but she intended to fight him every step of the way.

  She experienced a swift flash of satisfaction when her knee made contact with a vulnerable body part and he grunted in pain. But the man was strong and determined. His grip became even more punishing as he managed to turn her in his arms until her back was pressed to his chest, one of her arms was pinned to her side, and the prick of something sharp pressed into her side.

  “Stop, or this knife sinks into your belly.”

  She was breathing hard through her nose from her physical exertions and realized with another forceful dose of horror that she didn’t have enough strength or courage to fight against him and his knife. A knife that she suspected was already stained with the blood of Lawton livestock.

  But the fact that he hadn’t already killed her gave her some hope. She was alive, and she was conscious. She would think of something. She had to.

  “Anne was gonna marry me. Didya know that?” he asked almost conversationally. “We were planning to head outta town that day. But she insisted on talking to Lawton first.” His voice dropped to a feral growl. “He was supposed to be here.”

  Oh my God. Was Anne really going to end her engagement to Dean?

  Whether it was true or not, the man holding a knife to Courtney’s side certainly believed it.

  “He took my bride, so I’m taking his,” he said as he forced her toward the open door.

  Courtney stumbled into the hallway, a choked whimper catching in her throat. She tried to resist his next shove—tried to shift her jaw to bite the hand covering her mouth—but it only caused him to tighten his grip, which sent the tip of his knife through the fabric of her dress. The sharp pain as the blade pierced her side urged her to comply.

  Tears burned in her eyes.

  He said he was taking her, not killing her. Not yet anyway. As long as she was alive, she had a chance. Dean was just out in the barn. And Alexandra’s husband couldn’t be too far away. Perhaps she would be able to get their attention once she was outside. But first she and Hayes had to get through the house.

  Oh God, Alexandra!

  She hoped her friend was safely away as well.

  As the two of them made their way slowly down the stairs, the knife firm to her side, his hand harsh over her mouth, Courtney realized he would need to take his hand off her mouth at some point, especially if he intended to get her on a horse. Hopefully, he would need to shift his grip on the knife as well. That moment would likely be her one chance to scream and try to get away.

  Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Alexandra stepped into the parlor doorway.

  Courtney’s stomach fell in a sickening dive. With her eyes, she tried to tell her friend to back away, to let them pass, to stay out of the madman’s reach. But Alexandra’s vivid blue gaze was trained hard and unwaveringly on the man behind Courtney.

  “Just where the hell do you think you’re taking my friend?”

  He stopped at the threatening words, keeping Courtney’s body secure in front of him and the knife firm at Courtney’s side. Her eyes widened, and a moan of fear rolled in her throat. What was Alexandra doing? Sure, she had a gun on her hip, but it wasn’t drawn and Courtney was currently being used as a pretty effective shield.

  “I asked you a question,” Alexandra stated, her tone dropping.

  “Stay back,” Hayes warned. “I’ve got no issue with you, but this one’s mine.”

  “Wrong.” Alexandra’s reply was colder than anything Courtney had ever heard. “You’re not stepping one foot from this house.”

  Something in her friend’s voice—the sheer confidence, most likely—bolstered Courtney’s wavering courage. She wasn’t done fighting. While the two of them focused on each other, Courtney surveyed the hall. There had to be something she could use.

  Hayes laughed, and the sound was grating, almost maniacal. “And who’s gonna stop me?” he asked derisively as he shoved Courtney forward two more steps. “You?”

  Alexandra actually smiled. “That’s the plan.”

  Courtney glanced toward the door. One more step, and Hayes would have to make a quarter turn to get around the table set in the entryway. It should briefly open his left side to Alexandra’s aim. That was their chance!

  Courtney stared fiercely at her friend, willing her to see what she saw. As soon as Alexandra’s gaze flickered toward her, Courtney looked hard toward the table. The moment of communication was a fraction of a second, but Courtney could see by the tilt of Alexandra’s mouth as she returned her gaze to Hayes that she understood.

  “You’ve got two seconds to let her go before I put a bullet in you. One.” Hayes stepped and turned.

  Courtney threw her weight hard to her right.

  Alexandra drew her pistol and fired. “Two.”

  The knife at her side pressed hard for a split second, making Courtney gasp. Then it released completely as the man behind her fell back onto the stairs.

  Alexandra stepped forward to grasp Courtney’s arm and pull her roughly aside so she could keep the pistol trained on the man now groaning in pain as he held his bleeding shoulder.

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay right where you are,” Alexandra warned.

  Courtney sucked in deep breaths and leaned back against the wall, her legs suddenly going weak and shaky. She stared at her friend in shock. “What an amazing shot, Alexandra. I’ve never seen anything so fast. You must teach me how to do that.”

  Alexandra gave a small chuckle but never took her eyes off the man bleeding on the stairs. “Cooking, riding, and now shooting? You might become a Western woman yet, Courtney Lawton.”

  The back door of the house flew open a second before Dean appeared in the hallway with his gun drawn. He stopped at the sight of Courtney stand
ing against the wall. Their eyes met for just a moment, and her heart squeezed tight at the fear she saw there before he glanced down at Hayes sprawled awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs.

  “You son of a bitch,” he growled as he approached the man with murder in his eyes. Grabbing the injured man by the front of his shirt, he holstered his gun and sent a fist flying straight into the man’s face.

  Kincaid swept through the front door. Seeing his wife with her pistol drawn and trained on the injured man, he reholstered his own gun.

  Dean still leaned over Hayes, his fist drawn back to take another bone-crushing jab. “How dare you come into my home and threaten my wife!”

  Hayes’s features were tight with pain, but he still managed to twist them into a furious grimace. “You’ve got no right to go on about your life while Anne’s lying dead in the ground. You deserve the same hell I’ve been through since you took her away from me.”

  Courtney watched as Dean struggled to retain control. Violence was just barely contained within his tense frame. She had no idea if anything Hayes believed was true, but it had to hurt Dean regardless to hear such things said about the women he’d intended to marry. She wanted to step forward, to somehow comfort and support him in that moment. But something in his posture told her not to interfere.

  “Is this the man you were telling me about?” Kincaid asked from his wife’s side.

  Rather than answering, Dean directed his harshly growled words to Hayes. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

  Hayes’s eyes were as flat as his voice as he replied, “Do it. End my hell.”

  Courtney held her breath. For a long moment, it looked like Dean’s hand was creeping toward his holstered gun. Then his fingers curled tight into his palm, and a hard, swift punch had Hayes slumping to the stairs unconscious.

  Dean released the man’s shirt and stood over him. He stared at the foreman’s prone form as though he wished the man would awaken so he could hit him again.

  Alexandra reholstered her gun, and Kincaid stepped forward. “I’ll take him to the sheriff. Will your neighbors offer statements on what they know of his criminal actions?”