Wed to the Texas Outlaw (20 page)

“Stanley has changed a great deal since I met him. I have not.”

“What if I can never give you a grand home?”

“I don't need one. Cozy is cozy wherever you find it. When you think about it, it might be harder to find cozy in a large, drafty place. I don't care about how big our walls are, just as long as there's room for our babies to sleep.”

He smiled and seemed different now that everything was over. A new spirit shone out of him.

“You know that I don't want our marriage annulled? That you are mine forever?”

“I know, Boone. I always have.”

“There's one more thing. I want to be a preacher.”

He looked apprehensive. Did he want her approval or did he wonder if she would declare him insane?

“You'll be perfect!” And he would. “Not everyone understands what it is they were meant to do. I'm so very proud of you.”

He hugged her tight, sighed against her hair. “So what's the price you put on my head a while ago?”

She let go of him and backed toward the barn. “There're only a few hours left until morning, husband, which I don't intend to spend sleeping. If you want to know your value, you'll have to catch me.”

With a wink, she spun around and ran for the barn. Boone chased her, laughing.

After all that had just happened, maybe it was wrong to feel so elated. A man had lost his life right in front of her eyes, after all.

But Boone had not. The good one had triumphed and the evil one had perished.

And life had suddenly opened up, bright and shining.

* * *

It had been less than a month since Boone had sat in this courthouse, but it seemed a lifetime ago.

The guard was the same fellow, but this time he wasn't hired to keep Boone from running, rather for his protection.

While the judge had signed the document granting him his freedom—even overturned his original verdict, in the public eye he was still the scourge of everything decent.

“I wonder why the judge has called us here?” Melinda tangled her fingers up in his, squeezed them hard. Her hand felt damp and he guessed she was nervous.

He was, too.

Having turned the outlaws over to face justice, he had expected to leave Buffalo Bend right away. Melinda was nervously anxious to go to Kansas City and introduce him to her mother. Then Judge Mathers had insisted they stay a couple of days longer.

A couple of days where they had been confined to a hotel room with a guard posted outside the door.

As it turned out, the confinement was far from a hardship.

Boone had hoped the guard in the hall was not of a prudish nature. A honeymoon was not a restrained occasion; not a quiet one, either.

He had spent the hours of seclusion getting to know every inch of his wife's pretty body, how it responded to a stroke, a kiss. They'd explored long, slow hours of gentle lovemaking, as well as the fast, hard joining of bodies.

This sort of a sexual union was as new to him as it was to her. The man he used to be had simply hurried the act to complete a physical need. In the marriage bed he was learning the joy of giving and taking love.

A chair scraping on the floor of the judge's chamber brought his attention back to the here and now.

He noticed that Melinda was staring at him, her cheeks flushed. One thing about a wife, he'd learned, was that she had an uncanny knack for knowing her husband's thoughts.

He'd learned a few other things, as well. Yep, he reckoned that the pretty pink coloring in her cheeks was not due to shyness but to answered longing.

He wished the judge would hurry and tell him what this delay was all about. He was anxious to take his wife and be on their way to Montana.

Cautiously on the way. A document would hardly protect them from an overeager lawman or bounty hunter.

The doorknob to the judge's chambers turned with a squeal. Boone felt Melinda's quick inhalation.

Smythe came out first. The judge strode out behind him, hands clasped behind his back. He only hoped Mathers was not about to offer another bargain.

“No need to stand,” the judge declared, waiving his hand. “I'm not in robes.”

It was darn hard to sit, though, not knowing what was going on.

Garbled voices came from outside the window. It was early for saloon patrons to be gathering.

“Keep them out for a few more moments, Mr. Guise,” Mathers told the guard.

It was hard to guess what those murmuring voices could mean, but Stanley was grinning, so it must be all right.

Before he said a word, Mathers shook Boone's hand. “I still can't figure out how you managed it, Walker. Again, you have my thanks—the thanks of everyone in Jasper Springs.”

Mathers nodded to Melinda, sent her a warm smile. “As do you, Mrs. Walker. From the looks of things, I feel it will be acceptable to destroy the marriage annulment I have prepared?”

“Is that it?” Boone pointed to a sheaf of paper tucked under the judge's arm.

When Mathers nodded and handed it to him, he ripped it in two. Then he passed it to Melinda who tore it into a dozen pieces.

“Now there's the matter of the reward.” Mathers patted the pocket of his shirt. His hand made a tapping sound on a bulge under the fabric.

“Money?” he asked, hope warring with doubt. He had not considered a reward. A few dollars would be a boon to a new family man.

Mathers handed him an envelope. “Three thousand dollars.”

Hell's curs— Blazing blessings, he meant. Not just a family man, but one with a nest egg.

There was one more thing he didn't want to leave here without, though.

“Many thanks, Judge, but what about the dog?”

“I hate to lose a good deputy, but if he stays or goes, I reckon that's up to him. But if he does go, I'll need twenty of those dollars back.”

Without a thought Boone dug into the envelope and handed Mathers forty. It felt odd, but good to make a legitimate purchase.

He had no doubt that the deputy would follow Melinda. Apparently the power of her charm extended to the canine species.

All at once the voices outside stopped and a dozen or more footsteps shuffled across the boardwalk.

“I reckon we ought to stop by the bank before we leave town.”

“I wish I could convince you to take the job of sheriff in Jasper Springs, Walker. The folks there want you.”

“I was fortunate, Judge. I arrested the Kings without having to kill any of them. But lawmen aren't always that lucky. I reckon the day would come when I'd be called upon to do it. I've got my sights set another way.”

The judge nodded, smiled. “Smythe, as the last duty to your client, would you send in the reporters?”

Dang nation! Men with photographic instruments spilled through the doorway, as well as five with pencils and notepads. At the front of the crowd was a woman with a hundred questions that she tried to ask all at once.

“Is it true that you were falsely convicted? That you aren't even a killer? That you were forced to marry? That—”

A photographer waved for him and Melinda to stand still. A bright flash illuminated the room.

Melinda motioned vigorously for Stanley to come and stand with them. With the three of them standing shoulder to shoulder, the flash erupted again.

“Is it true,” a man asked, dabbing the point of his pencil on a paper pad, “that you saved a whole town singlehandedly? And without killing a man?”

“It seems far-fetched,” another reporter said, wagging his head and frowning.

“I can understand why you think so.” Melinda folded her hands at her waist, smiled then walked away from him and Smythe to greet the doubter.

While the photographers continued to take pictures of him and his lawyer, the rest of the reporters gathered around Melinda.

Hang it if they didn't look like a hoard of bees buzzing around a pollen-laden flower.

“I will be the first to say that it looked as though we were all going to die. Why, I doubt that even the baby would have been safe from that horrid King gang.”

The scratch of pencils across paper stilled.

“There was a baby?” the woman asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

“Of course. And, really, little Diana is the first one to owe her life to Boone Walker. Let's all sit down, there's so much to tell we'll all end up exhausted if we stand.”

Melinda sat in a chair. The reporters sat on the floor at her feet, expectant little bees gathered around their queen. Naturally, the photographer captured the image.

“So, there we were, being chased by the Kings, all except for Leland, the one known as Copperhead—for some reason they gave themselves the names of snakes. Well, Leland had already been brought down by Deputy Billbro, who is part wolf, part dog. But, sadly, the Copperhead was not down for good. We'll get back to him in a bit. So the person they were really after that day was Dr. Brown who was in the back of the wagon delivering baby Diana who was breach...”

“They'll give me hero of the year award by the time she's finished with them.”

“Probably, but then you would deserve it.” Stanley shrugged, nodded.

All this hero talk made him uneasy, but it did serve a purpose. Better to be hailed in the public eye as a hero than a villain, he reckoned.

“When are you going to marry Miss Trudy?” Boone asked to divert the talk from things heroic. It only took a glance at Smythe's smitten face to know it would be soon.

“About the time this show is over and you and your wife can meet us at the church. An hour, maybe?”

It made his stomach churn for a moment, thinking of setting foot in a church. But given his chosen profession, he reckoned he'd have to get over feeling unworthy.

Maybe he could do it. It had been several days since he'd cussed. He reckoned it was a start down the good path.

“Then, there we were, the four of them circling us with their horses—I declare they looked just like vultures—and Boone lying on top of me, once again using his body to protect me...”

“I expected to say a few words on your behalf, Walker,” the judge said, coming to stand beside him and Stanley. “Looks like your wife will have you the hero of a dime novel before you set foot out of town.”

Since there was still a good bit of the story to tell, Boone sat on the floor with the others. Looking up, he fell in love with Melinda even more than he already was.

Reunions
Kansas City, December
Mama

The fancy fringe on the roof of the elegant rented buggy swayed madly in the icy wind whipping down the road. Up ahead the plaque for the Kansas City Ladies Cultural Club squealed on cold, iron hinges.

Billbro, taking up the whole of the backseat, didn't seem to mind the falling temperature, but Melinda snuggled against the warmth of Boone's big, warm body. It was only midafternoon, but all she could think of was sitting in front of a blazing fire. Hopefully beside Mama.

She wasn't certain what her reception would be. She was as likely to be rejected as to be welcomed, given the way she had left home against her mother's wishes.

No one could hold on to an ill temper the way her mother could.

“I reckon we might have snow for Christmas.” Boone tugged her tighter to him. “Still nervous, honey?”

“I feel as jittery as the decoration on this buggy that you paid so much to rent.”

“I'm not bringing you home in a buckboard. Scary enough meeting a mother-in-law for the first time as it is.”

She tipped her face up, felt the nip of cold on her nose, then kissed his cheek. “She will be impressed.”

“Enough to overlook my past, I hope.”

“And mine.” She found Boone's free hand under the blanket spread across their laps. “Living in the wilderness was never her dream for my future.”

“Marrying an outlaw couldn't have been, either.”

“If she's heard of you, she'll not be happy. But a minister as a son-in-law, there is some prestige in that.”

Up ahead on the boardwalk a couple struggled in the wind. The man dragged a fair-size Christmas tree behind him. The pair must have found the struggle amusing because they were laughing.

For some reason the sound warmed her. Her nervous stomach eased a bit.

She focused her attention on the happy woman as their buggy rolled up behind them.

It was shallow of her, but she found comfort in the stranger's clothing. Her coat was red with a white ruffle at the hem and cuffs. A sprig of mistletoe hung from her bonnet by a green satin ribbon.

Her step was buoyant. Naturally, whose would not be given that the man beside her gazed down at her as though she were the most precious person alive.

The woman's face was hidden in her fur-trimmed hat, but Melinda felt the lady must be smiling clear to her toes.

Melinda guessed this because, as they came alongside the couple, the woman picked up her skirt and twirled. She didn't seem to mind that a pair of strangers were rolling by and seeing her petticoat exposed to her knees.

Her feet tapped a happy jig.

Melinda's foot tapped in time to the stranger's dance even while her heart constricted. The past fell away and she saw her mama dancing just this way.

Exactly this way, the steps were so familiar.

Like Mama of old, this woman was overcome with the joy of being alive. She didn't seem to care what anyone thought about it.

The buggy rolled past the couple. She turned on the bench, not wanting to lose sight of the lady who reminded her of Mama in years gone by.

Now she saw the woman's face full-on. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes blazing blue.

Melinda's stomach flipped. She had a sensation of falling, stopped only when Boone squeezed her hand.

“You all right, honey?”

“Stop the buggy!” She stood while the wheels were still moving. Boone yanked her down. “It's Mama!”

“That's your mother?”

“No, not my mother—Boone, that's Mama.”