The Gallows' Bounty (West of Second Chances) (29 page)

Boden pounded Owens on the shoulder.  “Thanks, friend, my wife needs me right now.  I don’t want to leave her unprotected.  Just don’t get yourself shot up.”

“You’d miss an old friend, huh?” Owens asked a moment before taking another swig of his coffee.

“Nope,” Boden teased.  “I’d just have to find someone else to delegate the duty to.”

The men laughed, Willow shook her head as she set plates of steaming breakfast in front of them.  Men sure had a strange sense of humor.  She hated to think of anyone dying to protect her.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING
A
smile spread across Willow’s face as she stretched.  Boden had let her sleep late. Well, she certainly hadn't slept well the night before with him out gathering up the cattle, but that wouldn't have mattered to a lot of men.  She would get used to this life if he kept it up.  He’d complained yesterday that she looked tired. 

Willow tried to build up the gumption to get out of bed.  It wasn’t easy when the day looked so cold and the covers were definitely warm.  Oh well, there was washing to do.

“Don’t even think of getting out of that bed.” Boden strode into the room, bringing with him a steaming breakfast tray.

Willow laughed.

“What are you laughing at, woman?”  Boden said as he spread a cloth on her lap and set a makeshift tray of food on her lap.  It looked like a baking sheet draped in a cloth.  He was nothing if not creative.

“I think Nathan’s got a point,” was all
Willow said.  “His ‘love’ comment and all.”

Boden sat on the edge of the bed.  “He might at that.  But I know this is something my father never did for my mother.”

“You’ve mentioned that their relationship wasn’t happy,” Willow said in hopes of drawing her husband out on the matter.  She took a bite of the scrambled eggs.  They were good–cooked to the point where they were neither slimy nor crispy.

“An understatement, that,” Boden commented.  “I nearly left you on the gallows that day because of their relationship.  Then, I married you because of them.”

“I’m not sure that makes sense,” Willow returned.

Boden propped his head in his hands and looked out their bedroom window.  “My father treated my mother horribly.  Beat her often.  Nearly killed her more times than I could count.  Then one day, he did.”

Willow’s breakfast was forgotten at this point.  He hadn't mentioned this part of things to her before.  Her husband recounted the story as if he were reliving another portion of his life.  “What happened to your pa?”

“Nothing.  Ma conveniently fell down the stairs in an unexpected accident,” Boden responded.  “I didn’t see it happen, but I knew.  I’d known for a long while that it would only be a matter of time.”

“Why didn’t your mother leave him?” Willow asked, knowing leaving was easier dreamed about than carried out.

“I tried to talk her into it several times, but she was too afraid of him.”  Boden looked at
Willow then.  “That’s why I admire you so much.  You fought back.”

Willow decided now was the time to get a few of the answers she’d determined to get.  He seemed in a mood to discuss the past right now.  “That's when you met up with Owens, right?”

“Yes,” Boden answered.  “He was older than me, twenty-two.  He was just starting out as a marshal.”

Boden laughed at the recollection before continuing.  “He could barely shoot straight.  And shoot was one thing I could do.  He got himself in a bind trying to stop a bank robbery.  I got him out of it.  Shot the ringleader’s gun out of his hand.”

“I bet Owens didn’t appreciate the help much,” Willow said, joining her laughter with his.

“No one likes being saved by a boy, but my action saved his life.  He let me ride with him after that, and I talked nonstop about seeing my pa behind bars.  Also, gave him a few lessons on how to shoot a gun.  Drove him crazy.”  Boden smiled.  “I guess shootin’ is one thing my pa managed to teach me, but even that involved hurting others.”

“Or saving others,” Willow reminded him. She picked at her breakfast again.  The eggs were a bit cold now, but she was hungry enough to ignore it.  “I still don’t understand why your parents’ relationship nearly made you let me hang.”

“I never married, never really got involved with other women for fear I would treat them as my pa had my ma.  Then, once I made up my mind to win you in that contest, I decided to marry you because I knew my father would have acted just as Roberts had.  He wouldn’t have given you the protection of his name.  I wasn’t about to act in a way my father would.”

“I see,” Willow responded, following her husband’s tangled train of thought.  Abuse did that to a person, though, made them see things a different way.  “Thank you, Ezra.”

“For what?”

“Taking a chance on me,” Willow explained.

“More like I took a chance on myself.  I wasn’t sure I could treat a woman right.  I hadn’t exactly had anyone to model myself after.”

“I suspect you’re more like Marshal Owens than your own father.  He may have only been nine years older than you, but I’d venture to guess you unconsciously followed his lead in a lot of things.”  Willow thought her explanation made perfect sense.

“You could be right,” Boden conceded, looking to his wife.

“You suppose?” Willow couldn’t believe he’d never seen the similarities that had developed between the two men.  “I don’t know how to say it, but the two of you share a lot of similar facial expressions, and your walks even mirror one another’s.  While you were teaching him to shoot, I’ll just bet you were copying your hero’s swagger.”

Boden made a face.  “Just never tell Owens this,
Willow.  I’d never hear the end of it.”

“All right, if you let me get out of this bed.”

Boden stood and took the tray from her.  “I suppose.”

“Did you leave anything for me to do?”

“I suppose you could milk Bertha.  I’ve never much liked milking,” Boden said on a grimace.

“I don’t mind it at all,”
Willow said, rising from the bed.  “It’ll give me a chance to get out-of-doors for a while.”

“That is, as long as you let someone else carry the bucket of milk into the house.”

“I will,” Willow said with a slight roll of her eyes.

“You keep up that sassy attitude, and you’ll never make it out of bed today,” Boden said with a smile and a kiss.

Willow met his kiss with equal fervor, and it was a long while before Willow got out to the barn to milk Bertha.

MARSHAL OWENS SADDLED HIS
horse with an ease of someone long used to packing up and moving on.  Willow was sad to see him go.  His presence had given her an insight to her husband she hadn’t possessed before.

She set the pair of milk buckets she carried next to the barn door.  She’d have to find someone to carry them to the house or get another “take-it-easy” lecture from her husband.

“Leaving so soon, Marshal Owens?” Willow asked as she approached the man.  She’d lost her fear of him over the cup of coffee they’d shared yesterday morning.

“Devils
Lake is sure to be in an uproar if I don’t head back soon, Willow,” Owens said as he tossed his saddle atop his buckskin gelding.

“Watch your back,”
Willow couldn’t help but advise him.  “Only person you can trust in town is Kern.”

“Seems you share your husband’s tendency for back watching,” Owens said with a wry smile.

“Marshal, may I ask you a question?” Willow said as she rubbed Owens' horse behind the ears.

“Go ahead.  I’ll answer if I can.”

“What happened to Nathan’s wife, exactly?”

“Boden would kill me if he knew I was telling you this,” Owens said, not appearing the least bit worried.  He grew suddenly serious before continuing.  “Especially since that’s when he cemented his reputation.”

“I’ve been wondering about that, too,” Willow admitted as she took a seat on a bale of hay.  She really hated the bits of straw that poked through.

Owens took a seat on another bale adjacent to her.  “He may not appear intimidating to you,
Willow, but the man’s a force to be reckoned with when his sense of justice is roused.”

Willow didn’t feel it necessary to inform him she’d spent the first few months of her marriage terrified of her husband. 

“Nathan owned a ranch north of here. Like we discussed yesterday, the Boss and a group of riders tried to take it from him, and he figured if he didn’t make a fuss, they’d leave him and his family alone. He practically handed the place over. Well, it didn’t work as he’d planned. As soon as Nathan let his rifle drop, the Boss raised his gun to shoot him down. Laura jumped in front of him and took the bullet.”

“How’d you and Boden end up there?”
Willow prodded once Owens seemed to stop, lost in memory.

“We’d seen the smoke of a few buildings going up.  We were meeting at Nathan's to put together a posse; ironically enough the posse was for the Boss and his gang.  By this time, Boden had gone his own way to make a living, but had met up with me on the way to Nathan's.  When we got to the ranch, Nathan was holed up and shooting for his life. 

“I’d never seen Boden shoot like he did that day.  He lit with a cold fury once he realized what the gang had done.  He shot till his guns were empty, and then he took after the rest of the gang with a hatchet he’d gotten out of Nathan’s wood pile.  Armed men ran when they saw him coming.  After that, awed criminals and ranchers alike added Butcher to his name.” 

Willow struggled to reconcile the picture Henry Owens painted of her husband with the man she knew. To her, he was love and light, but she’d glimpsed righteous anger in him on a few occasions.  He’d been larger than life when he’d rescued her from the gallows. “If he saw that day what I saw when my parents’ ranch was taken, I can understand that kind of anger.”

“Ezra retreated into himself after that.” Owens looked at her, sadness in his eyes.  “We all did in our own way. It ate us up that we hadn’t been able to take down the man who’d caused us all so much pain.”

“The Boss got away with murder again,” Willow couldn’t help but say.

“Yeah, he rode off when Boden went after him.  Didn’t even try to shoot him down even when he realized Boden didn’t have a gun.  We never did figure that one out.”

“Did the man wear a mask?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“From all you’ve described, I’m sure last night’s assumptions are correct–the Boss’s gang attacked my pa’s ranch as well as Nathan’s.  Their leader wore a mask.  He also convinced my father that no harm would come to us if we surrendered. Pa signed over the deed after that, then the Boss shot him down in cold blood.”

“So, you think it’s the Boss who attacked Nathan’s ranch?”

“I’d bet my life on it,”
Willow said.

“Let’s hope you never have to,” Boden said as he approached the pair.  “Headin’ out, Owens?”

“Sure am,” Owens said as he stood and offered Boden his hand.

“Look out for yourself,” Boden said.  He shook Owens' hand heartily.

“Your wife already told me the same thing,” Owens said, eyes twinkling.  “You two make quite a couple.”

Owens rode out then, and Willow didn’t feel the cold air rush in when the barn door opened, so pleased was she by Boden’s “Yes, we do.”
 

C
HRISTMAS WAS FAST APPROACHING,
and for the first time in four long years, Willow wanted to purchase presents, but she wouldn’t be making it anywhere near Kern’s Mercantile.  For one, Boden was too protective to let her out of his sight, and for another, they had been snowed in for a week now.

She had always liked the snow, but she was truly beginning to hate the slushy white stuff.  It had become an unwanted guest as far as she was concerned.  She wished she could pack it up and send it away on a stage.

The snow would drive her insane if she didn’t take her mind off of her snowbound captivity and concentrate on what she could do about Ezra’s Christmas present.  He had done so much for her, and she wanted to do something for him.  But what?

She heaved a sigh and shifted in her seat.  Her protective husband’s eyes studied her from his place opposite her.  He’d been reading another of Emerson’s essays aloud, and now he stopped to cast her a concerned look.

“I’m fine, Ezra,” she assured him before he could quiz her about how she felt.

“Usually Emerson keeps you riveted,” Boden continued.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to concentrate tonight.”

As she met her husband’s gaze, she admitted there were some very appealing aspects of being snowbound.   The strong column of his neck drew her attention, and she wondered if he’d mind if she kissed him along the muscles cording there.

Boden set his book aside just in time to interrupt Willow’s musing.  “Truth be told, neither can I.  I’ve read a few pages, and I’m not even sure what I’ve read.”

“Christmas is only a few days away,” Willow commented.  Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears, and Willow hoped Boden didn’t notice.  She needed to figure out her Christmas present dilemma, not be distracted by her handsome husband.

He stretched in his chair, and his muscles pressed against his clothing.  Was there a portion of the man that wasn’t solid as a rock?  She knew there wasn’t. Willow forced her mind back to the subject at hand.  “I haven’t had the chance to get anyone Christmas presents. In fact, I’m not sure what you do for Christmas.”

“The last few years I’ve just added a bit to the hands’ pay.  I haven’t had much of a reason to celebrate.”

“I haven’t had a reason to celebrate for a good long time myself,” Willow said on a sigh.  He probably thought she sighed over her lack of joyous Christmases, but in reality she sighed over the unruly hair that had fallen over her husband’s eye.  He really did need a haircut.  And that led to thoughts of running her hands through his hair.

Willow startled when Boden suddenly stood and drew her from her chair and onto his lap.

The arms around her stiffened.  “I thought you were done jumping at my touch,” he stated, his tone full of hurt.

She snuggled deeper into his embrace.  “Oh, I am.  You just disturbed my thoughts.”

Oh, how he disturbed her thoughts!  Even now his muscular thighs cradled her bottom, and she was having a hard time concentrating on their discussion.

“So, who do you want to buy presents for?”

He didn’t seem to be having any problems staying on topic.  Maybe her advancing pregnancy kept him from wanting her as much as she wanted him.

She rested her head in the crook of his neck, deciding she’d take whatever affection he was willing to give.  “I would get a present for you.”

He tugged her a bit closer. “That’s nice, Willow, but you’re present enough.”

That’s nice
, Willow thought. Perhaps he enjoyed sitting with her like this as much as she enjoyed it.  Could he be as distracted as she was?

“I’m not about to consider myself a present.”
Willow laughed against his neck.  “For one thing, I cost you a hundred dollars, and for another–” she gestured at her swollen stomach.

“I think of it as a two-for-one,” Boden said.

She laughed.  “I never thought of it quite like that.”

The conversation ended there, however.  His mouth came down on hers with an intensity that caused her to moan low in her throat.  Her hand moved to his chest, and his heart beat a fast rhythm against her palm.

He removed his lips from hers a while later, and Willow wrapped her arms around his neck intent on drawing them back to hers. He resisted her strength, and Willow caught the look in his eyes.  He seemed suddenly serious, and she waited for him to say what was on his mind.  While she waited, however, she couldn’t resist pushing that wayward bit of hair away from his eyes.

He smiled at her action before capturing her hand in his.  “You think a hundred dollars is a great sum?  Willow, you don’t understand your value.  I’d give everything I have to keep you with me.”

And he meant it.  Willow was sure of it.  She had no idea what to say to him.  He had given so much, and she so little.  She gave him the one thing she had to give–herself.

She leaned forward in his arms and kissed him with all of her heart.  It was the first time she had initiated such a passionate kiss, and she reveled in the power of it.  She dared even more when she delved her tongue into the velvet of his mouth.  She caught the scent of his shaving cream and of him, and her hands shook slightly as she ran her fingers through his hair.  It felt better than she could have imagined.  He embodied strength and tenderness all at once, and Willow knew what a fool she’d been to run from him that first day.  She could no longer imagine what life would be like without him.

BODEN FELT HIS WIFE'S
kiss to the tips of his fingers.  As he mated his tongue with hers, he knew he’d meant what he’d said.  He would give everything for her, including his life.  He hadn’t thought about the words before he’d confessed them; they’d flowed from his mouth without thought, born out of his intense need for her.

He mentally thanked Kern for arguing with him that day months ago.  If he hadn’t, Boden would have let an innocent, wonderful woman hang or worse yet, be mistreated by another.  Thinking of her at another’s mercy nearly broke him in two.

He moved his hand from Willow’s neck down her spine and deepened his kiss.  He had been letting her kiss him, but now he took over.  Boden’s intense feelings and desires rode him hard, and he fought the urge to lower her to the rug before the fireplace and show her how much she meant to him.

“Please, Ezra.”

He could barely make out the words she breathed against his lips, but now he realized the rug would do just fine.  Boden inched forward on the chair and lowered her to the floor at the same time.  He laid upon his back next to her before drawing her over him.  Together they expressed their passion with an abandon they hadn’t experienced before.

Long moments later, Boden drew her down to his side and tucked her body along his.

All was silent for a while and then, “I didn’t realize one could enjoy that so much with all their clothes on.”

The incredulity in her voice made Boden laugh out loud. “I love you,
Willow.”

“And I love you, Ezra.”

He looked down at her satisfied smile and gently set her hair to rights.  “I meant what I said, Willow, I would give everything.”

“I believe you, Boden, because I would, too.”

Boden hoped she never had to, because his heart would break if she did.

A FEW DAYS LATER
, Boden mulled over French’s disappearance as he walked into his home.  He wasn’t sure what to do about the man.  He had no desire to make French act before he had an idea what the man planned.  He also didn’t want to put Willow in any unnecessary danger.  Then again, snowdrifts made keeping French away less of a difficulty.  They still had some time to figure things out.

“Why the long face, cowboy?”
Willow teased as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

The pair of scissors in her hands drew his attention.  “And what do you plan to do with those?”

She snapped the scissors a few times before she answered.  “You need a hair cut.”

“I see,” he drew her onto his lap the minute she drew close with her scissors.  “Keep an eye out for French at all times.”

“That bad, huh?”

“I have a feeling it is,” he drew her close a moment then let her go.

She bent at her expanding waist and kissed his lips.  “I’ll be very careful, Boden.”

Willow
moved to cut his hair then, and Boden wasn’t quite sure what she was going to be careful about. “With French or my hair?”

“With French,” she said and then shrugged, “and with your hair.  I promise I’ll cut it just right.  I can’t cut it too short or I won’t be able to get a good grip on it.”

She slid her fingers through his hair one more time, testing its length, caressing him, before her little gasp let him know she’d caught on to what she’d said.

Boden laughed out loud.  “I’ve unleashed a she-devil.”  He caught her blush out of the corner of his eye.

She suddenly became very busy with his hair.  The snip, snip of the scissors reached his ears before she spoke again.

“It’s just that I never thought I’d desire it,”
Willow admitted.

“And with good reason.”

A thoughtful silence ensued with only the snip, snip of the scissors breaking the stillness. Willow eventually broke the quiet. “Thank you.”

“For what?” His neck itched as pieces of hair fell onto it. 

“The gift of knowing how it should be,” Willow admitted. She stroked his scalp as she drew his hair up between her fingers and cut methodically.

Boden’s throat tightened at her confession.  She dusted his shoulders as he swallowed hard.  He took her hand in his and tugged her around to face him.

“I’m not the one doing the giving.  You’ve given me your trust even after all you’ve been through.”

“The thing is, Ezra, you’ve made it easy.”

“Thank you,” Boden said as the lump in his throat grew larger.

Willow reached a hand up and dusted it through his hair.  Her action broke the intensity of the moment, and Boden was relieved.  He couldn’t have survived any longer without air.

“You know, I may have cut it a bit short above your left ear,” she said, drawing back from him.  She turned her head from side-to-side as if the different angles would tell her if she’d really messed up.

She picked up the scissors again, and Boden laughed as he took them from her.  “Oh no, you don’t.  I could end up bald in your attempt to get things even.”

“Might as well practice for the days ahead.” Willow took the scissors back.

Boden took them from her again.  “You’ve definitely turned from shy to downright ornery.”

“I have not,” she said, placing her hands on what was left of her hips.  She failed miserably at looking serious.

“Well, you’re not as mischievous as I am.” Boden drew her close and tickled her as much as her pregnant frame would allow.

She giggled.  “You know it’s unfair to pick on an expectant woman.  I can hardly defend myself in this condition.”

“You seem to do other things just fine in this condition,” Boden said, leaving off his tickling.  Her lips were suddenly more interesting.

CHRISTMAS MORNING DAWNED WITH
bright streams of light filtering through Boden and Willow’s bedroom window.  Boden awoke with the first rays of light and watched his wife sleeping in his arms.  Willow was tucked into the curve of his body, her head resting beneath his chin, her bottom pressing into his hips, her legs curving around his knees.  He smiled—her petite feet only reached to the middle of his shins.

Boden drank deeply of her scent. This was the first Christmas he had looked forward to since his childhood. For two months, the ring he’d purchased for Willow at Kern’s had burned a figurative hole in his pocket. He’d almost gotten down on his knees and given it to her a hundred times. And every time he’d resisted at the last moment, reminding himself that he wanted their first Christmas together to be memorable. He realized now that it would be unforgettable because they were together and safe.

Safe.

Boden prayed to God that he could keep her safe until both of them reached a ripe old age.  He worried that those who hunted her would catch him with his guard down, or that his past would reach out and take her from him.  He unconsciously tucked her and their unborn baby tighter to himself.

Their baby.

Perhaps not by blood, but by nurture.  He thought of the little one she carried as his own.  She had become his future, and this child would be his because it was hers.

A smile broke across Boden’s face.   He had become hers as well.  She claimed him with every touch she granted him during the day and every caress she drew across his body at night.  She had taken to snuggling into him at night as though he were part of her.

Her hips moved against him in her sleep, and he realized what he’d most like for Christmas.  He slid a hand down to her hip and tugged her even closer.  He bent his arm at the elbow and propped his head on his hand in order to look down at his wife, fully awake now.