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Authors: Lauri Robinson

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aloud, so she shook her head.

His hands covered her shoulders, and he used the hold to

twist her toward him. "Why not?"

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by Lauri Robinson

She shrugged, still unable to speak.

"Randi." He tipped her head up by placing one finger

beneath her chin. His eyes were serious, extremely solemn. "I

won't give your father one red cent."

She nodded. "I know, and I don't want you to. I'm sorry

he asked. I was going to tell him not to expect anything, but I

was too busy..." The blood rushing into her cheeks made her

pause.

"Too busy doing what?" he asked.

"Thinking how much I love you. How wonderful my life is

with you."

He didn't say a word as his finger traced the outline of her

face. The touch, soft and caring, was enough to make the

tears form again.

"I'm so very sorry," she said.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he said. "Your father

didn't ask me for any money."

"He didn't?" she asked, searching his face, looking for the

truth.

His eyes, though still shadowed, held a touch of glimmer

way in the back. "No, he didn't." He leaned forward, pressed

his lips to her forehead. "I love you, too."

She leaned in, absorbing the warmth of his caress.

"I would give up everything I have for you." He set her

back a touch, gazed down at her. "But not to your father. I

can't support his political beliefs. I might as well burn down

the hotel."

She bit her lip, not sure what to say.

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He let out a long sigh. "But, that's not going to happen.

And it's not for you to worry about. I'll take care of it."

Her mind spun a million miles an hour. If her father hadn't

asked for money, what had he asked that had upset Howard

so? "I wish I wasn't such a disappointment to you."

He frowned. "Nothing about you is a disappointment to

me."

"What I said before is true. I've never hosted a party."

"So? Neither have I. I'm sure we'll learn as we go." He

pulled her close again, brushed a kiss to the top of her hair.

The simple touch, his nearness, made the walls of her

heart swell. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

She pulled back a touch and looked up at him. "I do love

you, and I'll do anything, everything I can to prove it to you."

His hands slipped from her shoulders, roamed up and

down her arms, and the glimmer in his eyes grew stronger.

"You don't have to prove it to me. I know you love me.

Just as I love you," he finished in a whisper, lowering his face.

His kiss consumed her, led her into a world where no one

but she and he existed.

By the time the kiss ended, the Dodge House, her father,

even Belinda had flown out of her mind, floated away like the

seeds of a dandelion. She reached up, began to unbutton his

suit jacket.

"I'm glad we came home early."

His fingers went to her hair, and one by one, he plucked

out the pins, letting them fall to the thick carpet beneath their

feet.

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"So am I," he whispered before his mouth captured hers

again.

[Back to Table of Contents]

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by Lauri Robinson

Chapter Fourteen

Howard knew it would happen and shouldn't have been

surprised, still the commotion outside jolted his body upright.

Beside him, snuggled beneath the covers and encompassed in

the haven of slumber he'd been in seconds ago, Randi rolled

over. Flipping the covers aside, he padded barefoot across the

carpet and out the bedroom door to one of the front room

windows.

Throbbing, his gullet rose, blocking his windpipe while the

heaviness of known dread covered his shoulders like a heavy

winter coat. A good two dozen men had gathered below along

with their horses and a few wagons. The street was full. They

shouted amongst themselves, gesturing toward his building.

He twisted and hurried to the bedroom to get dressed

before addressing his lynching party. It had been inevitable,

so why was he shocked? In a matter of seconds, he was

dressed and leaving the room. Howard paused for a split

second, glancing back to the bed. It had been his choice, from

the moment he'd realized Thurston Fulton was her father,

he'd known if he stayed married to her this moment would

come.

He pulled the door closed and moved across the front

room to the door that would lead him below. It had been the

right choice. She meant more to him than anything else on

earth. If needed, they'd start over. Somewhere other than

Dodge—that is if he lived long enough for their marriage to

last longer than the past month.

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Bug and Snake met him as he stepped off the stairway,

the back door still swinging open from their rush inside.

"What's going on?" Bug asked.

He pushed his way around them, walking to the foyer.

"I'm assuming my dinner at the Dodge House with a

member of the Populist Party made the front page of the

paper this morning."

"Aw, shit," Snake said, walking beside him. "I wish Kid was

here."

"Well, he's not," Howard said, wishing his oldest brother

was here as well. "You boys don't have to come with me."

"Like hell we don't," Bug said, clicking open the chamber of

his six-shooter and stuffing in brass plated bullets before

sliding the gun back into his holster.

All three of them, shoulder to shoulder, walked out the

double front doors and down the steps. The crowd, quite

rambunctious, mellowed a touch, and Howard silently thanked

his brothers for flanking him. Steps as sequenced as a line of

soldiers, he and Snake and Bug strode to the edge of the

street.

"Morning, George." Howard nodded to the ex-sheriff.

George Hinkle was a friend of the family, and Howard was

willing to accept any allowances the relationship may provide.

Hinkle was a born peacemaker, and Howard felt the town had

suffered a loss when George, after marrying the local school

teacher, chose not to run for reelection. He had yet to meet

Pat Sughrue, Hinkle's replacement, hadn't had a need—up

until now that is.

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George tipped the edge of his hat to each of them. "Hog,

Snake, Bug."

"What's going on out here?" Howard asked, playing

ignorance.

George stepped forward, handed Howard a newspaper.

The headlines, a good two inches tall, leaped from the

page.
Owner of New Hotel a Populist.
His temples pounded.

Howard handed the paper to Snake and turned to the crowd.

"Hell, George, you know me. You know all of us. Kid's the

President of the Stockgrowers Association. You can't believe

I'm a Populist."

George shrugged. "Thurston Fulton claims the Quinter's

are his relatives. And some of his biggest supporters."

Howard clenched his jaw, there was no use lying.

"Thurston Fulton is my father-in-law—"

The crowd began to roar, obscenities flew through the air.

Men slapped their hats against their legs and overall let it be

known how disgusting they found his statement.

Rubbing the back of his neck, George stepped closer and

dipped his head.

"That's quite an alliance."

Howard grimaced. "You think I don't know that?"

"Could be enough to get yourself hanged."

"Yeah, I know."

Shocked to find half the bed empty, since the sun wasn't

even completely filling the sky yet, Randi scooted out from

beneath the covers.

"Howard?" she asked, walking toward the door. The eerie

feeling of knowing she was alone in their room tickled her

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spine. She stopped before opening the door to quickly throw

on her underclothes and a day dress.

Voices floated through the window as she stepped into the

front room, drawing her to the panes of glass. A large crowd

lined the street. Looking none to friendly, the group stood in

the middle of the road, facing off against three men near the

edge. Her heart somersaulted and landed in the pit of her

stomach with a solid thud when the familiar shapes of

Howard, Snake, and Bug registered.

Thrusting the door open, she tore down the stairs,

stumbling to a halt only when she ran smack dab into

someone.

"Hold up there, girl." Ma caught her with both hands.

Randi tried to bolt around the other woman. "What's going

on out there?"

Ma held her ground, wouldn't let her pass. "Don't rightly

know. But my boys'll take care of it."

Just then the back door flew open. Aunt Corrine, red curls

sticking out in all directions and her satin, lacy dressing gown

flapping like a cape behind her, rushed into the kitchen. Her

bright, searching eyes landed on Randi.

"Oh, Randi! Thank God you're all right!" Arms stretched

Corrine leaped across the room.

Randi had to lock her knees to keep from tumbling as

Corrine landed against her chest and wrapped arms around

her shoulders. She patted the other woman's back, and then

pushed her aunt's flyaway red curls out of her face.

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?"

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Corrine stepped back, pressed a hand to her bosom

dramatically. "That mob for one!" Her other hand patted

Randi's shoulder. "But don't worry, Danny's out there, he

won't let them hurt Hog."

Air refused to move out of her lungs, no matter how hard

she gasped, air wouldn't go in or out. Danny J hadn't been

able to protect himself from being shot, let alone someone

else. She glanced to Ma, wanting the other woman to say

something, anything.

Air finally flowed in, and Randi grabbed Corrine's arm.

"Hurt Howard? Why? Who?"

Corrine looked around the kitchen area still very much

under construction. "Is there a place we can sit down?" she

asked, her gaze stopping on Ma.

Ma gestured toward the stairs and took Randi's arm.

"Come on, let's go upstairs."

Randi shook her head. "No, I—"

"There's nothing we can do out there. Come on." Ma

nodded toward Corrine who took a hold of Randi's other arm.

Between the two women, one tugging and one pushing,

Randi didn't have a choice but to trudge up the stairs. Once

they stepped through the doorway, she broke loose and ran

to the window. The mob had grown, flowed a distance down

the road. Howard, Snake, and Bug still stood near the front of

the property, two other men, one she recognized as Danny J,

stood near them. No one had their guns drawn, which she

hoped, was a good sign.

Behind her Corrine screeched, "Oh, my goodness, Randi!

This place is gorgeous!"

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Pulling her gaze from the street, she twisted. "What is

going on? Why are all those men here?"

Corinne patted the back of the settee. "Come sit down."

Randi shook her head.

Corrine held something out in one hand. Randi took a final

glance out the window. No one had moved, so she walked

across the room, took a newspaper out of Corrine's grasp.

The large headline across the front made her plop onto the

couch while she scanned the rest of the article. Her father

was quoted as saying he was related to the Quinter family,

and that they financially supported his campaign and his

plans of reform including the alliance with the railroads.

Randi read the article a second time, but still didn't

understand the crowd on the street. She lifted her gaze to her

aunt.

Corrine frowned, her eyes extremely sad. "You have no

idea, do you?"

Randi watched as her aunt walked around to take the seat

next to her.

"No," she admitted.

Corrine flounced her dressing gown, twisted and tugged on

her pantaloons until everything was situated before she

began, "I don't know what your mother told you over the

years, but what I am about to say is the truth."

"Mama?" Randi asked. How could her mother have

anything to do with all this?

One of Corrine's hands patted her cheek. "Your mother

was so young when you were born, barely fourteen, much too

young to have a child."

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"No, she was—"

Corinne pressed a finger against Randi's lips. "Randilynn,

what I'm saying is the truth."

Randi nodded, figuring it didn't matter how old Mama was,

she was gone now.

Her aunt took the newspaper, pointed to the headline.

"The real reason I had to hide you at Danny J's wasn't

because I was afraid he'd make you work for him. Danny's

not like that, he'd never make a woman do something she

BOOK: Boot Hill Bride
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