Reckless Territory (19 page)

“That suits me very well,” she answered, “for I’ve been alone far too much.”

“Shore explains a lot of things.” Jace added a little whiskey to his coffee and leaned back, propping his booted feet on the porch rail. “It wasn’t Lawrence so dead set on killin’ you, but Samuel, I’d guess. Didn’t want to stand trial for the rape of that poor girl, so they covered up the fact that he was still alive.”

“I doubt it.” Cole sat on the steps, the night breeze cool and clean as it brushed his face. There was a smattering of stars through the tearing clouds and occasionally the cattle called to each other, low and mellow. “Samuel just wanted revenge because a half-breed shot him. If he’d kill his own brother for interfering, think about how furious he must have been that an Indian stuck his nose into his business. If I hung for his murder, that was his revenge, right there. I’d like to have been there when he was told I escaped.”

“Wonder whose body is in his grave,” Robert said somberly. “Strikes me as it might be that of the farmer who supposedly left town rather than testify on your behalf.”

“Sounds like Lawrence.” Cole could clearly remember the bitter resentment at the unfairness of his imprisonment.

“If we had never run into them in Kansas City—” Jace started to say.

Cole cut him off, one arm propped on his knee, shaking his head. “The gods send you evil sometimes so you can eliminate it from the world. Seems to me that’s what’s happened. Sure, Frank is still alive, but he was never part of the brains of that gang anyway. He’ll slink away and get himself killed somewhere else. Without his older brothers, I doubt he’ll last long.” He glanced at Robert. “How’s Victoria?”

“Writing in her journal. I think she’s shaken, but not as much as I would expect.” He smiled. “But then again, we all have a tendency to underestimate her.”

“Underestimate, hell. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I was there, but she didn’t need me this morning.” Cole recalled her trembling body in his arms. “She didn’t need me to save her,” he corrected softly, “but afterwards, I think it was best she wasn’t alone.”

“She wants to learn to herd cattle.” Jace said it laconically. “So she can help, and one of us isn’t always here at the house, unable to ride. I think maybe we should teach her. A good cowpony does most of the work anyway and she’s right, we could use another hand. She does know how to ride a horse, I’ve got to give that to her.”

“If you don’t teach me, I may have to try and take over the cooking.”

All three of them glanced up. She stood in the doorway in a simple white nightdress Jace had purchased for her on their trip for supplies. Her loose hair framed her pale face, but she was composed and a smile curved her soft lips. “I’m an Englishwoman, so thank you for admitting I can ride.”

Jace jumped to his feet. Cole rose also, and Robert who was already standing, said, “You definitely can, sweetheart. Feeling better?”

She nodded. “If I write it all down, years from now perhaps I can look back and remember all the remarkable events in what is turning out to be a rather adventurous life. After all, how often does an earl’s daughter end up in the wilds of America with three wonderful, caring men who also happen to be outlaws? Surely that is a story worth telling, isn’t it?”

Epilogue

One year later

“What the hell do your shaman gods, or whatever they are, have to say about this?”

Cole shot Jace a lethal look. “Nothing, except they tell me you should hand me that cloth.”

“Will do.” Jace obligingly handed over a slip of cotton cut into what they termed “regulation” size, which meant that it fit a tiny female bottom. “She slept better last night.”

Cole deftly lifted the baby’s legs—he was getting good at this—wiped the strategic spots, and then put the soiled cloth in the basket by the side of the small bed. “I thought so too.”

In answer to the praise, little Flora gave a small chortle and gazed at him with wide, blue eyes.

Damn if he couldn’t help himself, he smiled back. That first grin, he’d been there for it, holding her one restless night, trying to give Victoria at least an hour or two of sleep, and he’d sat down and rocked the tiny little human being that had come into their household, and she’d…laughed. It had been nothing but a gurgle but definitely accompanied by a toothless grin.

Like a complete fool he’d woken everyone. Good God, when did a man become such an idiot that a baby smiled and he had to shout it to the world?

Well, maybe the minute he’d become a father.

She looked, in fact, exactly like her mother, from her fair—at this point wispy—curls, to the shape of her nose. Maybe, just maybe, he thought he saw a hint of himself in the cheekbones and the shape of her eyes, but he had the feeling Robert and Jace imagined the same thing.

It didn’t matter.

She was his daughter—and theirs—from the tip of her shining head to her small wiggling toes, but unfortunately at the moment, she seemed to be very wide awake in the middle of the night.

“Thought I heard something.” Robert wandered in, bare-chested, rubbing his jaw, his hair rumpled. “Need help?”

“Don’t think so.” Cole dubiously eyed his handiwork, decided he’d done a pretty good job and picked Flora up to cradle her in his arms. She smelled sweet, like milk and talcum.

“I could stay up with her. The north herd can wait. We’ve a week to move it at least.” Jace leaned against the doorway. “I don’t mind missing the sleep. I’ll take the watch.”

“This is hardly a situation that requires a watch.” Victoria, gloriously disheveled and looking tired but indulgent, came into the room, lifted the baby from Cole’s arms, and swept them all a look. “Might I note,
none
of you can feed her. Besides, though I appreciate the help, you all spoil her. If you rush over to pick her up the instant she makes a sound, she’ll never sleep through the night. Go back to bed.”

All three of them deserved the scolding. How was it, in a household that should be dominated by men, one small female had turned it all upside down. Cole did stop to stoke the fire, both out of consideration and a certain sense of selfishness. He wanted the room to be warm, but he also loved to see how Victoria settled into the chair by the hearth, lowered her nightdress, and adjusted the child at her breast. A veil of golden hair brushed the babe’s cheek as she bent over and began to sing in a very sweet, soft tone.

He lived for these moments.

And he wasn’t the only one. When he straightened to leave the room as quietly as possible, he found that both Robert and Jace were in the doorway. The three of them said nothing to each other but watched as their daughter eagerly fed, and then gradually fell asleep.

Outside was still bitter in the grip of a late spring chill, the ground frozen and the white-capped peaks in the distance sure to keep their snow for several months.

In this place, though, Cole thought, it was warm.

As a true home should be.

About the Author

Kate Watterson also writes award-winning historical romance as Emma Wildes. She has a secret love for Westerns and grew up in New Mexico, but now resides in the Midwest with her husband and a very eccentric cat named Poot. Visit her at
www.katewatterson.com
.

Look for these titles by Kate Watterson

(writing as Emma Wildes)

Now Available:

Riding West

Lawless

Face of the Maiden

To win the woman of his dreams, Parker takes matters into his own hands. And finds out the West is wilder than he ever imagined!

Riding West

© 2007 Emma Wildes

Just take her.

The advice seems radical, but Parker West is desperate. Try as he might, he cannot convince Celia Evans to marry him in the usual way, even after five years of courtship. Kidnapping her is drastic and rash, but he figures he has little left to lose.

Even though Celia is furious at being summarily tied up and carried off to the mountains, she finds she likes the sparks that fly when the normally cool Parker shows his more assertive side. At his secluded cabin, she finds out exactly what it means to be a woman, and that what she fought against all along is true: Under his normally reserved exterior, Parker is the lover of her dreams.

And when riled, he can give a girl a very wild, intensely pleasurable ride.

But there’s a range war simmering, and the threat on the horizon takes the form of one very vindictive, crooked rancher. He wants Celia all to himself—and will stop at nothing to get her…

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Riding West:
 

The flask hung suspended in his fingers.

Parker watched, fascinated and incredulous, as the woman in front of him calmly let her dress slip off her creamy shoulders.

It worked!

He wasn’t good at bluffing, or at least he didn’t think he was, but this outrageous gamble had actually paid off. The very idea Celia believed he’d force himself on her was a little insulting, but then again, he’d done his best to convince her he would. When her mother had come to visit his folks a few days ago and taken him aside, he’d been a bit humiliated when she’d brought up his ill-fated marriage proposal. Mrs. Evans had diplomatically discussed a more straightforward approach with her independent and headstrong daughter. He’d listened, too, frustration, both emotional and sexual, making him open to any suggestion.

Even this drastic one.

If Celia ever discovered her own mother was the one who told him to just take her off somewhere and be a little more persuasive in a physical way, she would be livid.

On the other hand, he was grateful as hell.

In a few moments shoes, stockings and petticoats were also in a heap on the floor. A telltale flush of embarrassed pink in her smooth cheeks, Celia stood in her thin cotton shift and lifted her chin. Her long-lashed eyes, so lovely and blue, showed her usual challenge. “I thought you were going to undress.”

His mouth had gone entirely dry and Parker swallowed, remembering his role as forceful abductor with difficulty. When he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse. “You aren’t finished. Take it all off.”

Her upper teeth sank into the softness of her lower lip, but she didn’t look away as she pulled free the ribbon at her bodice. The material gaped open, exposing the tantalizing swell of high, full breasts. Celia eased the garment down her arms and over the curve of her slim hips until it pooled at her feet and she was completely naked.

All he could think was that in his entirely male fantasies about this particular moment—and he’d had plenty—he hadn’t done her justice. Her skin was flawless ivory, her limbs long and supple, and her firm breasts had a lush ripeness in comparison to the slender dip of her waist and length of her legs. He couldn’t help but stare, his heated gaze examining the soft rose of perfectly shaped nipples and then slipping lower, to the small dark gold triangle at the juncture of her thighs. “Oh my God,” he said involuntarily.

Her blush intensified, turning her cheeks scarlet. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said tartly.

“So you should, sweetheart.” With effort, he lifted his gaze back to her face and repeated, “So you should. You are more than beautiful, Celia.”

“Thank you.” Her slim throat rippled as she swallowed. “But quite frankly, Parker, I’ve never stood in front of anyone in my life without a stitch on and it isn’t exactly fair you’re still fully dressed.”

He was rock hard already, his cock so stiff it felt like he was going to burst out of his jeans. Considering her innocence, she was about to get an eyeful, but he was more than happy to oblige. Her easy acquiescence was a little unexpected, for he’d thought she would be more resistant, but who was he to argue. He stood and swiftly unfastened the gun belt around his waist, setting it on the table before he went to work on his shirt. “Let your hair loose.”

There was a brief flare of irritation in her gaze over the autocratic tone of his voice, but she complied. When she lifted her arms to untie the ribbon, her lush breasts rose and quivered slightly in provocative invitation.

He tossed his shirt on the floor and fairly jerked off his boots. Stifling a groan when he opened his jeans, he pulled them down his hips and stepped free. Celia made a small noise—a swift inhale of breath—and she stared at the rampant length of his erection, swollen and high against his stomach.

“My enthusiasm over being here with you is darned obvious, isn’t it?” He moved toward her in a long, slow step, not wanting to scare her to death. “I’m pretty much this way every time I’m around you and it isn’t the least bit comfortable, I promise you.”

She looked startled, her gaze traveling from his stiff penis up to his face. “You are? Why didn’t you tell me?”

That question was so illogical, he had to laugh. “What exactly was I supposed to say?”

“You never even
tried
to do more than kiss me once or twice.” She actually sounded a little miffed over it.

“Of course not. A decent man isn’t supposed to take advantage of a woman who isn’t his wife.”

Her hair was a curtain of shimmering gold down her back, the tumbled curls reflecting the firelight and framing the delicate features of her face. Dark blond brows rose but she didn’t step away when he reached for her. “Then perhaps you’d better put your pants back on, Parker West, for in case you’ve forgotten, we’re not married.”

“We will be.”

He pulled her close and cut off her undoubtedly caustic reply by lowering his head and capturing her mouth. The sensation of her nude body pressed against his was more intoxicating than anything he’d ever experienced, her lips warm and soft. She was right, he hadn’t done more than attempt a few chaste embraces, mostly because he wanted her so damned bad he didn’t trust himself to stop when he should. When he exerted gentle pressure and she complied and parted her lips, his tongue slipped between and he felt the jerk of her surprise as he began to explore her mouth.

He was both relieved and pleased she’d obviously never been kissed so intimately, for he certainly wasn’t the only man dangling after the gorgeous Miss Evans by a long shot. She was generally considered the most beautiful girl for hundreds of miles in this section of Colorado, and her three brothers and formidable father kept a pretty close eye on any man that came sniffing around. Luckily, Parker was good friends with the whole family, otherwise he could count on them wanting his blood for what he was doing right at this very minute. When he’d talked to Celia’s father before his doomed proposal, Gerald Evans had welcomed the idea of him as a future son-in-law.