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Authors: Jodi Thomas,Patricia Potter,Emily Carmichael,Maureen McKade

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BOOK: How to Lasso a Cowboy
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A sleepy-eyed Elizabeth held it.

She was still in a dress. Her hair was coming loose from the braid she usually wore and curled around her face. Long black lashes framed weary eyes.

She lowered the gun when she saw him.

“How did you get in?” she asked.

“Through a back window.”

“Soldiers were here all day. They've been looking for you. They said they had an arrest warrant.”

“Did they say for what?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “I suspected as much. Under military occupation, it doesn't take much.”

“How did you get by them?”

“I didn't. They're sleeping right now.”

“Did you help them?”

“I did,” he replied.

“All of them?”

“I sincerely hope so.”

“You're giving them more reasons to come after you.”

“I don't think they need any.”

She put her pistol on the table beside the bed. “Why did you come here? Surely you knew . . .”

“I wanted to know how your father was doing. And Marilee.”

“Do you really care about my father?”

“Surprisingly enough, I do,” he said, realizing it was true. “I think he's a victim as much as anyone here.” He went over to the man's bedside, inspected the bandages, then felt his forehead. “No fever. Has he awoken yet?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you any more?”

“The only description was similar to those who came after me.”

That puzzled him. If Delaney wanted to take Elizabeth as his wife to inherit, why would he try to kill her? Or perhaps he just wanted to frighten her enough to seek his protection. If so, he obviously didn't care if she was seriously hurt, even killed, in the effort.

She looked at him. “Could it have been your brother?”

“No.”

“You've talked to him then?”

Seth didn't say anything.

Despite his efforts to save her father, Elizabeth obviously wasn't absolutely sure who was behind the attacks. The pistol that was in her hand proved that. She'd been ready to protect her father with her life.

“I told him you saved his life,” she said.

“Anyone would have.”

“I don't think so,” she said. “I don't remember if I thanked you.”

She looked so vulnerable, so tired, yet still so protective of those she loved that his heart jolted. He held out his
arms and she stepped into them. He just held her for several moments, trying to lend his strength to her.

Her body pressed against his, but her eyes gazed directly into his. His breath caught at what he saw there. Trust. And another emotion. One more complicated than desire.

He felt it, too. Damn, he wanted to protect her. Her father as well because she loved him. Hell, he wanted more than to protect her. He wanted her in his life. Not just for a night. Or a week.

He lowered his head to kiss her. Gently, comfortingly at first. Lips touching lips with featherlike gentleness.

It was meant to be comforting but the moment their lips met, the kiss turned into something else altogether. Awareness flashed and thundered between them like a sudden Texas storm. His knees nearly buckled under the impact of need he suddenly felt. His hands moved along her back, touching lightly, and he marveled at the wells of tenderness that gave his hands a gentleness he'd never known before. He felt a glow of light, then a warmth that filled him so completely he realized how lonely he had been, how dark his world had become in the past years.

Her arms curled around his neck and he reveled in her embrace, the way her fingers teased and played with his hair. A barely restrained passion was evident in each touch, as it was in the hazel eyes that changed with her every emotion. They were stormy, more green and gold than brown.

He deepened the kiss, feeling her react to it. Her body moved closer into his and he felt a longing and need so strong he could barely contain it.

A groan came from the bed. Reality stabbed through the cocoon of desire that had wrapped around them.

She stepped back quickly, turned, and went to the bed. He remained where he was, his body afire.

“Liz?” McGuire's voice was barely a whisper, broken with pain.

“Papa, I'm here. I'll get you some more laudanum.”

She knelt beside her father and Seth heard the love and concern and tenderness in her voice. That struck him as deeply as her passion a moment earlier.

“No,” McGuire said, then his pain-filled gaze moved to Seth.

“Who . . . ?” His voice broke off as if he could not manage another word.

“Seth Sinclair. He took out the bullet yesterday. The doctor said he saved your life. He also rescued me the day before.”

“Sinclair?”

“Yes.”

“He . . .”

“He's a good man, Papa,” she said.

“Tell him . . . to come close,” McGuire said.

Seth stepped closer and looked down at the man who had benefited from the theft of his land.

McGuire strained to lift his good arm and held out his hand for Seth's. “Thank you,” he said simply. “For Liz, thank you.”

Seth took it. Any number of emotions ran through him. And out of him. Bitterness faded. So did any desire for revenge.

McGuire loved his daughter. Elizabeth loved her father.

And I love Elizabeth.

The thought flashed through his mind with the impact of a cannonball.

He tried to dismiss it. It was the circumstances. He'd been lonelier than he'd thought. He'd been without a woman's touch too long.

It's been too short a time. Love doesn't happen like that.

He had to get out of here before he made any more of a fool of himself.

He nodded his acknowledgment of McGuire's thanks and stepped back. “I have to go before someone wakes up. Do you have any protection here? Besides that?” he asked, glancing over at the gun.

“Howie is here. He's in the barn.”

“I won't be back for a while. There are some things I need to do. If you need anything send Howie to Abe at the saloon in town. He'll know where to find me.”

“You're going to try to stop what's happening?” she asked on a shuddering sigh. “To the other ranchers. To you.”

He said nothing as he stared at her, taking one last look . . . for a while. Just a while.

“I want to see Marilee for a moment,” he said.

She nodded and led the way to the small bedroom at the end of the hall. She opened the door, and he looked inside.

His sister was curled up in a ball, a light covering over half her body. Her arm was around a sleeping puppy.

He went over to the bed and pulled the sheet up over her thin body. He hesitated, wanting to lean down and touch his lips to her forehead. To hug her. But that might wake and frighten her. Instead, he locked the picture of her into his mind.

Elizabeth was standing just outside the room. “I will take good care of her.”

“I know that.”

“Be careful,” she said softly.

“I'm hard to kill. And find.”

“I'll still worry.”

“Doc or Abe will keep you informed.”

“The doctor doesn't like me.”

“He's just a cautious man, Elizabeth.”

“Liz,” she corrected.

His heart tugged again. He sensed that no one called her that but her father and Marilee. She'd just torn down a barrier.

He wondered whether he could tear down his as well. He wondered whether he could ever be whole again. He hadn't told Elizabeth that, like Marilee, he had nightmares. His were about the killing fields, about the boys he had killed, the friends he had lost in a nightmare called war.

He touched her cheek. “Be wary of Delaney.”

She nodded, her eyes fearful but not, he knew, for herself. For him.

He left.

The guards were still trussed when he checked on them, though two were awake and struggling. He tapped them on their heads again. He didn't want anyone following him.

Then he retrieved Chance, mounted, and rode toward their canyon.

ELIZABETH'S
father was better the afternoon after Seth's predawn visit, though still in a great deal of pain. He refused to talk about his heart condition, closing his eyes in pretended sleep when she tried to broach the subject.

A sense of loss had filled her the moment Seth had left. It would be there until he returned again. It was made more difficult by the fear she had for her father.

Howie appeared at the door of the bedroom. “The major is here,” he announced flatly.

He didn't like Delaney either. Delaney had always treated Howie dismissively, even with contempt. Elizabeth had never understood how her father tolerated it.

She and her father exchanged a glance. He knew her suspicions now. He hadn't agreed, but neither had he argued about it.

Howie had barely made his announcement when Delaney shouldered his way inside.

“What happened last night?” he said angrily.

“Other than more of our cows being rustled?” she said tartly.

“My men were attacked and tied up.”

“Where?”

“Here, dammit. I want to know what happened.”

“I didn't even know they were here,” she said. “You should have informed me you were finally taking our requests for protection seriously. They must not have been the most competent of men, though, if they allowed themselves to be taken while what's left of our cattle was being rustled.”

His face mottled in anger. “
He
was here yesterday.”

“He?”

“Sinclair. I want to know where he is now.”

“I have no idea. He did not confide in me. In truth, he doesn't care much for us. Claims we stole this land. Still, he did help Papa.”

His face got redder. “My men were watching for him. He must have returned last night.”

“I thought your men were here to protect our cattle,” she said with surprise in her voice. “And why on earth would Mr. Sinclair visit us last night?”

Delaney shoved past her to her father's bed. “Michael, where is he?”

Her father shook his head. “I don't know what you mean. I have been sleeping. Laudanum, you know. And if my daughter says he wasn't here, then he wasn't. She doesn't lie.”

Delaney eyed both of them with disgust. “You aid him and you're as much a criminal as he is.”

“A criminal?” she asked. “What did he do?”

“He attacked my men.”

“Oh, they saw him then?”

He stomped to the door. “If you see him . . .”

“I'll send Howie immediately,” she said. She very consciously did not add the two words,
for you.

He slammed the door behind him.

She turned back to her father, who looked stunned. Delaney had always been smooth and charming around him.

“That's the real Delaney,” she said.

Chapter Twelve

 
SETH STAYED AT
the hideout, going out at dusk with his brother and the other three men who rode with him. Each night they gathered a few more animals, herding them back into the valley.

Information was coming from newly hopeful ranchers. They spied on the army details and reported to Abe. Abe's son reported to someone else who, in turn, met Colorado at a specified place. If cattle were sold or rustled, Seth knew about it nearly immediately, and the cattle were quickly liberated before anyone could change the brands.

Five days after McGuire's shooting, Doc arranged for Seth to meet with the marshal he'd mentioned. They met at the home—the old Keller place—Abe had offered him. As far as either Doc or Abe knew, Delaney was unaware that Seth used it.

BOOK: How to Lasso a Cowboy
13.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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