Read Bushedwhacked Groom Online
Authors: Eugenia Riley
“Tarnation!” cursed Molly. “I just knew those varmints
would try to beat me out.”
Grandma was scowling fiercely. “Why, the whelps.
Bet they went to the Trumble homestead just to spite
me. They know right well how I feel about old Ezra.”
“But Ma, his daughters are lovely,” Cole pointed out.
“They may be comely as mountain columbine, but that don’t mean I’m for hitchin’ up our two families,”
Ma retorted stoutly. “Why, Ez is cantankerous as a mule,
deaf as a post and dumb as a bale of hay. Not to men
tion he’s older than Methuselah. Why, I hear tell he got
all them girls off’n his fourth wife after he plumb wore
out the first three—and her, too, before he was done
with her.”
“You’re just riled because Ezra had the gall to pro
pose to you, Ma,” teased Cole.
She harrumphed. “Darned right, I’m galled. Why, I’d
just as soon hitch up with a frog in a union suit. If you
ask me, there’s something peculiar about that whole
Trumble clan. They’ve been standoffish ever since they
settled here. Like the way old Ez keeps them girls under lock and key—”
“Well, they are the prettiest fillies in the county,” in
terjected Billy. He winked at Molly. “Excepting for my
darling niece here.”
As Molly simpered, Lucky felt impelled to bring her
down a peg or two. “You know, I can’t say I blame the
boys,” he interjected. “The Trumble girls do sound
mighty tempting. Maybe I’ll just tag along the next time
the men go courting.”
Molly kicked Lucky in the shin and he yelped in
pain.
The others laughed, and Dumpling bragged to Cole,
“Ain’t Molly a pistol?”
“Yeah, she’s definitely a girl after her daddy’s heart,” Cole agreed. “All the spirit of a champion, that one. I’m
afraid old Handsome here hasn’t got a chance.”
“Now wait just a minute, all of you,” Lucky chided,
growing exasperated. “I’m getting sick and tired of all
of you assuming that I’m . . .
aaaaaaah!
” His words
ended in a grimace as he felt something wet and warm
trickling down his shirt and the front of his pants. He
scowled at the baby he held; she gurgled back, grin
ning toothlessly at him.
The others broke up with hilarity. “She got you!”
teased Molly.
“Looks like old Handsome peed hisself,” added
Billy, slapping his sides.
“You don’t have to look so damned surprised, cow
boy,” Molly went on. “A body would think you have no
idea how babies work. What a tenderfoot you are.”
At last Lucky found his voice. “Ain’t you folks ever
heard of Pampers?”
Except for Jessica, they all stared back at him. Evi
dently they hadn’t.
“Come on, I’ll help you change her,” offered Molly. “Ma
always keeps some extra diapers in the guest room.”
“You want to come with me to my bedroom?” he asked in disbelief.
Dumpling shrieked with laughter. “With Fanny and
Farley there to chaperone, we won’t worry about you,
will we, Cole and Jessie?”
Cole frowned, but Jessica nodded. “Dumpling is
right. You two go on and change the babies.”
“But leave the door open,” Cole added sternly.
Realizing he had little choice but to comply, Lucky
started off with Molly. He slanted Cole a resentful
glance, only to be rewarded by a look of pure menace.
Then his gaze swung back to Molly. She winked. “Af
ter I change these babies, how ‘bout I change you,
Handsome?”
“How ‘bout you jump in the creek?” he retorted, but the vixen only smirked.
***
“Will you kindly finish up so I can change into some
dry jeans and a shirt?” Lucky asked.
Standing near the dresser, still sopping wet and feel
ing supremely awkward, Lucky glowered at Molly, who
was kneeling by the bed. For the past ten minutes she’d
been playing with the two infants, cooing to them,
singing to them, nuzzling their bellies and faces, mak
ing both shriek with laughter and wave their plump little
arms and legs, taking her time and tormenting
him
as
she dressed them in dry diapers and embroidered linen shirts. Though he hated to admit it, the domestic scene
fascinated him, and despite his drenching by Fanny, he
found the twins to be as cute as a couple of bugs. Lucky
had never had a brother or sister and hadn’t even been
around babies very much. All of this left him feeling vul
nerable, and aggravated at himself for being so
charmed by all of them—but especially by Molly.
She gave him a saucy look. “So you want to change,
do you? Who’s stopping you?”
“You are.” Watching her grin from ear to ear, he felt
himself blushing again and could have kicked himself.
“‘Sides, I shouldn’t be undressing in front of—er, these
children.”
She hooted. “These two are way too young to know the
difference.”
“But you would.”
“0h, yeah. I would.” She looked him over and licked
her lips.
He groaned, striding forward. “Girl, do you have
any idea what you’re doing? Tempting a full-grown
man like you are?”
She stood to regard him forthrightly. “Yeah. We need
to get this marriage business started, Handsome, so I
might as well just tempt away. Heck, my brothers are already off a’courting, and I intend to stay at least five lengths ahead of ‘em in this race.”
Lucky remained incredulous. “And it doesn’t matter
to you at all that I’m a stranger who has no interest in
marrying you?”
She gave a shrug. “One man is about as good as an
other, as far as I’m concerned. ‘Sides, you’re not just
any old stranger but my destiny.”
“That’s a load of crap.”
“Hey, watch your language in front of these young
‘uns.”
“I thought you said they were too little to know the
difference.”
“They can understand your tone of voice.”
He rolled his eyes. “My point is, you know nothing about me, not really.”
“And whose fault is that?” she demanded, pouting.
“You won’t tell me anything about yourself or answer my questions about where you came from.”
“Perhaps I never will,” he flung back at her. “Fact is, I
could be anyone—a deadbeat, a swindler, a murderer,
a thief.” Moving closer to her, he smiled nastily. “Why, I
might just strangle you in your sleep.”
She hooted with laughter. “Mister, I got three wild-as-
hell older brothers, not to mention a daddy who’s a re
formed outlaw, and I’ve been holding my own with all
of ‘em for eighteen years now. You think I can’t handle
you?”
“Don’t bet on it,” he growled.
Undaunted, she tossed her curls. “Good try, cowboy,
but you don’t scare me. Tougher men than you have
tried and failed. ‘Sides, I think you’re much more trust
worthy than you let on.”
“And why is that?”
“You wouldn’t steal one of our horses. That makes
you a man of honor.”
“Yeah. Being lynched for horse theft is not how I’m
planning to exit this hellhole for the hereafter.”
She grinned. “And as often as you invoke the name
of the Almighty, I’d say you got religion, too.”
“What little you haven’t made me lose.”
She continued to grin at him and looked so mad
deningly impish that Lucky was hard-pressed not to
haul her close and kiss her. He was forced to clench
his fists at his sides just to restrain himself.
Get a grip,
he warned himself. If he didn’t watch out,
he’d soon get in so deep with this loco woman, he
wouldn’t be able to retrieve himself.
Fortunately, one of the babies chortled, breaking the
tension. He nodded toward the bed. “Can we go in to
lunch—er, dinner—now? They look dressed.”
She held up two pairs of crocheted booties, one
pink, one blue. “They ain’t got their shoes on yet. Care
to do the honors?”
“Sure, if it will speed things along,” he grumbled.
Lucky grabbed the booties, knelt by the bed and began
trying to tie them on wiggly little feet, while Molly stood
watching him and giggling at his awkward attempts.
He cast her a surly look, then paused, feeling a lump
in his throat despite himself. “Damn, their little feet are
so tiny, so soft, and they smell, well, so sweet-like—”
“That’s baby smell,” she amended, leaning over to
meet his eye. “No finer smell on this earth.”
Lucky found himself staring into her vibrant, slightly
flushed face. With her auburn curls hanging loose and
free and her bosom generously exposed, he felt him
self harden painfully.
Hastily he snatched his gaze away and began fum
bling with Farley’s booties.
But Molly continued to linger close to him, too
close. “Tell me, cowboy, have you ever held a new
born? I have. Nothing softer this side of heaven.”
“Yeah,” Lucky muttered hoarsely. He dared not look
at Molly then. They both knew precisely what she was
offering him, and he was far from immune. Indeed, to
his shock, he was tortured by yearning, a craving to
tumble her and give her just what she was begging for
so brazenly. He’d never have thought a familial mo
ment could affect him so, haunting him with visions of having his own home and family, perhaps even regain
ing his faith and everything else he had lost.
But not with this she-devil!
He finished the task with trembling fingers, then
stood, depositing a baby in each of Molly’s arms. Still
avoiding her gaze, he spoke gruffly. “Get out of here
while I change.”
“Sure you don’t need any help?”
“I said make tracks, sister.”
She chuckled. “We’ll be waiting for you in the
kitchen, cowboy.”
She sashayed away with a baby on each hip, and
Lucky collapsed onto the bed.
Chapter Eight
At dinner, with the family gathered about the long tres
tle table, the twins dozing in a cradle near the hearth,
and the dogs devouring cooking scraps by the back
door, Molly observed Lucky covertly. He looked awk
ward as he passed around mashed potatoes, gravy, corn on the cob, and a huge plate loaded with beef
steak. He kept directing blistering, resentful glances
her way. No matter. She knew she had him where she wanted him now—all hot and bothered. He’d given
himself away when he’d stared at her bosom while
she’d fed the chickens, when he’d gulped at the sight of
her with a baby in her arms, when he’d stood in the
bedroom with jaw tight and fists clenched, eyes blazing as he’d watched her change the twins. When she’d
teased him, she’d even noticed a telltale bulge at the
front of his jeans, and the sight of it had made her
mouth go dry.
And those steamy glances he kept casting her way
were definitely affecting her, too. Every time his gaze
scorched her, she felt funny little twinges in her
breasts, her privates, the sensations achingly pleasur
able. She was fascinated by her own responses but
daunted by the prospect of giving this stranger so
much power over her.
Molly had only been kissed once, a sloppy, distaste
ful affair, when Chester Snyder had waylaid her be
hind the schoolhouse in town and planted a wet
smack on her mouth. Totally disgusted, Molly had knocked him to his heels.
But the prospect of this handsome stranger grabbing and kissing her elicited a totally different re
sponse, making her heart go all aflutter, and she felt
both confused and intrigued by this exciting but pecu
liar response. As he’d argued only moments earlier, she barely knew him. How could he already bedevil
her so?
But entice her he did. She wanted to know more about him and his world, and it galled her that he
wouldn’t answer her questions. Yes, he had been
through a shock, and yes, she supposed she was nervy to expect him to marry her, just like that. But none of
that fully explained the extent of his anger toward her.
She needed to chip away at his defenses and wipe that perpetual glare off his face.
For the moment Lucky’s frown had shifted to Pa and Uncle Billy as the two men monopolized the conversation, discussing politics—whether or not Teddy Roose
velt, a favorite of theirs, would run for president again
next year. “Mr. Taft just ain’t got his grit,” Uncle Billy pro
nounced. “We need old Teddy’s big stick and hard-
charging manner back in the White House. And them
rambunctious children of his’n was fun, too.”
“Yeah, I chuckled when I read how Quentin
dropped a water balloon on his daddy’s guards, and
how Archie played with his pet badger,” put in Aunt
Dumpling. She paused, winking at Cole. “And speaking
of unruly offspring, I hear your four eldest landed in
the hoosegow again the other night.”
Cole gave a groan. “Yeah, they mixed it up with those obnoxious Hicks cousins at the saloon.” He
flinched. “No offense, Dumpling.”
“None taken,” she assured him. “Even though I used
to be a Hicks myself, Dulcine and them five cousins is
from the white trash branch of our family.” She nodded
to Lucky. “No class.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he soberly agreed.
“Our boys have been arguing that the Hicks cousins
may be responsible for the robberies we’re having in
these parts—or even that the Dempsey Gang may be
riding again,” Jessica interjected.
“And we’re hoping the boys aren’t just saying these things to cover their own tracks,” their father added
grimly.
“I’d bet on those no-account Hickses,” pronounced
Dumpling.
“And I’d bet on my brothers,” Molly put in cynically.
“Now, Molly,” scolded Uncle Billy, “you know your ma
and pa raised your brothers righteously, even if they is
full of prunes.” He smiled at Jessica. “They’ll settle
down in time, Jessie, you’ll see.”
“Let’s hope so, Billy. For now, I’m just praying old
man Trumble won’t kill them for going courting in the
middle of the week.”
Amid laughter, Dumpling turned her beaming smile
on Lucky.
“
So, young fella, how exactly did you come
to be among the Reklaw clan?”
Molly almost chortled as Lucky appeared to go
blank, but her pa quickly spoke up.
“
As I mentioned
earlier, Molly found Lucky out on the range. Evidently
he’d taken a bad fall from his horse. She and Sanchez
fetched him home so the women could care for him.”
Dumpling gasped ecstatically, turning to Molly. “And
you decided on the spot that you wanted to marry
him? How romantic. Love at first sight and all that?”
“Yeah, love at first sight.” Molly smirked at Lucky.
“She means love at first sight of the lower five hun
dred,” he drawled back.
“Huh?” asked Dumpling.
Cole shot Lucky a dark glance, then told Dumpling
and Billy about the contest he’d established—and ex
plained how Molly was, so far, first at the draw.
Afterward, Dumpling hooted her delight. “Good for
you, honey,” she declared, patting Molly’s hand. “We females gotta win out over these menfolk, even if it kills us.”
“Yeah, I know,” grumbled her husband.
Batting Billy’s arm, Dumpling turned back to Lucky.
“Where you from, young fella?”
“He’s from these parts,” Molly answered for him.
“And your people?”
There Molly hadn’t a clue; she waved a hand at
Lucky.
“My grandma and grandpa raised me, but they’ve
both passed on now,” he grudgingly explained to
Dumpling.
“Why, bless your little heart.” Dumpling reached out
to pinch his cheek. “All you’re needing now is a fine
new family like the Reklaws.”
“Yeah,” Lucky muttered, “they’re a swell bunch of
folks.”
Her husband spoke up sternly. “Dumpling, quit pes
tering this young man and let him eat his vittles, will you? You’re preening at him so, I’m suspectin’ you’ve
taken a shine to him.”
As the others laughed, Dumpling guffawed. “Billy
Reklaw, hush your mouth. You know darn well my
heart is yours alone, especially after putting up with
your temper these twenty-odd years, not to mention
bearing you ten young ‘uns.”
“Just don’t forget your place, darlin’,” he teased back. “I can still wallop that pretty behind of yours.”
“And I’ll smack you good for that comment once
we’re alone,” she retorted.
He winked. “You mean a kiss, darlin’?”
“No, I mean a slap upside the head!”
Amid gales of merriment, Dumpling spoke again to
Lucky. “Don’t fret, sugar. I know a virile stud like you
needs a feisty young filly like Molly here to keep him
satisfied. Can’t wait to see the two of you hitched—and the sooner, the better, I’m saying.”
At this, even Molly winced, realizing her aunt had gone too far. She watched as, face burning, Lucky shot to his feet, his fingers trembling as he hurled down his
napkin. “Look, will all of you please just stop it? Since
yesterday I’ve had my body busted up, my dignity as
saulted, and I’ve landed among a passel of lunatics
who think good old Teddy Roosevelt is still charging
up
San Juan Hill
. But that isn’t the half of it. Why in hell
do you crazy people keep assuming I’d want to marry a manipulative little she-devil like her?”
Fixing a glare on Molly, Lucky turned and stormed
out the back door as fast as his hobbling legs could
carry him, leaving stunned silence in his wake. Even
Molly felt slapped by the venom of his diatribe.
“Got a temper on him, don’t he?” Dumpling mut
tered, fanning her face.
“Oh, yeah,” agreed Grandma.
Molly continued to seethe. How dare Lucky insult
her, reject her, call her names that way, in front of
everyone? To her mortification, she felt hot tears sting
ing her eyes. This utter stranger had actually hurt her
with his comments, she realized. Indeed, she could
not recall any man’s words ever smarting so . . .
And if the niggling voice of her conscience reminded her that she’d given very little thought to his own feelings, she quickly disavowed that traitorous thought.
For now her pride took the upper hand. Glancing at the four elders who regarded her
with pity, Molly burned with humiliation. She vowed
she would give Lucky Lamont his comeuppance if it
killed her.
And she knew just how to do it. Taking full advan
tage of the conflicted emotion churning inside her,
she allowed huge, heartbroken tears to well up from
her eyes and start streaming down her face.
The others watched in horror. “Oh, no!” wailed
Dumpling. “He’s gone and made her cry.”
Cole was on his feet, face livid, jaw tight. “That does
it! No bastard makes my baby girl cry.”
Billy popped up, too. “Damn right, brother. You need
any help stringing up the scoundrel?”
Jessica’s hand shot out to grip Cole’s wrist. “Cole, no.
Both of you men just settle down and let’s finish our
dinner. We can address this matter later on, once
everyone cools down.”
Molly sprang up. “Well, I’m giving that snake his
comeuppance right now.” She stomped toward the
back door, then flung over her shoulder, “And don’t
none of you dare come watch.”
Molly well knew they’d all do exactly the opposite.
***
Storming into the backyard, Molly spotted Lucky strid
ing about angrily, waving his hands and muttering to
himself. She caught the words “damn loco woman,”
and charged toward him, skirts flouncing and curls fly
ing. “How dare you insult me that way, you low-down snake!”
He turned aggressively, then blanched. “Hey, what’s
that on your face?” he asked gruffly. “You been crying?”
Molly felt red shooting up her face at the realization
that he knew he had shamed her. His expression of
concern should have enraged her, but instead she felt
even more vulnerable, close to breaking down entirely.
Nonetheless, she drew herself up with as much dignity
and courage as she could muster. “Never mind that. I
want you to come back inside right this minute and
apologize to my entire family for insulting me, then
apologize to me, too.”
All signs of sympathy fled from his features. “In your
dreams, lady.”
“Damn it, why are you acting this way? What do you
want?”
“To get the hell away from you wackos.”
Though Molly wasn’t precisely sure what
wacko
meant, his tone told her enough. “So you really don’t
want to marry me?”
He laughed in disbelief and flung his arms heaven
ward. “You finally got
that
through your thick head.”
She paused, tapping her foot in frustration, her
wounded pride warring with angry determination. She
realized this stubborn drifter had her all but thwarted.
Then a delicious strategy occurred to her, a way she could make him pay—and enjoy every second of it.
She chortled and shook a finger at him. “I get it now.
No wonder you don’t want to marry me—or tell me
anything about yourself.”
“What do you mean?” He eyed her suspiciously.
“You must be one of them
sissyfied
fellas who likes
boys.”
“What?” he cried.
Savoring her victory, she stepped closer and spoke
in a low, tormenting hiss. “Yeah. Like Sidney Riddle in
town, with his sack coat, ascot and jeweled walking
stick. Everyone knows he only likes to do it with other
fellas. You one of them fancy-pants types?” She looked
him over with contempt. “Hell, you’re pretty enough.”