Saving Cole Turner (2 page)

When she heard Cole had returned, she’d hoped to run into him in town. When she hadn’t, she went and found him. He’d camped in the woods in a spot they had explored together as children—a spot where she knew he’d be.

When she’d finally encountered the long, lean man with the hard-edged face of a stone mountain, she’d barely recognized him. But those edges softened as his blue eyes found hers. And then a smile curved those firm lips. And the boy she’d loved stared back at her with such longing that her heart melted.

There had been some formal words between them before they’d been able to fall into companionable conversation about what they’d been doing the past five years. He hadn’t shied from telling her the dismal details of his life as a bounty hunter, almost as if he was daring her to think poorly of him.

But she didn’t think poorly of him.

She watched as the lines of his face hardened, saw the pain he tried to shield behind those devastating blue eyes of his, saw the cost his livelihood was extracting from him with every shrug and hard-fought grimace that punctuated his tales.

Several visits later, talking wasn’t enough for either of them. His kisses and caresses had lit a fire inside she hadn’t been able to quell. Each time she’d been with him, it raged hotter and higher than the time before. He’d met her fire with his own. She’d felt it. She knew it. She wasn’t wrong.

I’m a bounty hunter. I kill people for money. I’m no good.

The knowledge of what he thought about himself shredded her emotions into misery. She had to do something. She had to get Cole to marry her. She was certain her father wouldn’t leave his daughter’s husband and the future father of his grandchildren to such a life, no matter what he thought of Cole. Her father always needed help on the ranch. He’d offer Cole a respectable position worthy of his son-in-law.

But getting the two stubborn men to do what she wanted would be no easy task. Cole had thrown her only solution in her face. She couldn’t force him to bed her, though that would be the fastest path to everything she wanted.

Determination filled her, taking up the fight for her happiness and his soul. Cole Turner was not leaving without her knowing the full passion of the man she loved and meant to marry. Her ace was that Cole wouldn’t take her without marrying her—whether before or after, she knew he’d make an honest woman out of her.

She churned the ramifications over in her mind before the plan finally gelled. Rising, Kate swatted the dust from her dress. There was little time to waste.

She walked into the kitchen of the Flanders household breathing in the scents of home cooking. It was a big kitchen, dominated by a stout wood stove that battled with a long oak table to stake claim to the spacious room. The window over the sink was open and a slight breeze ruffled the red checked curtains, offering the only relief from the steaming vapors rising from the pot on the burner. It had to be a good ten degrees hotter than outside.

The housekeeper’s gray dress was glued to her broad back with the stain of perspiration as she bent over a pot of something that smelled an awful lot like beef stew. Mary Higgins had first come to their door in a bedraggled state not long after Kate had lost her mother. She’d stepped right into the void, not replacing her mother, for no one could, but filling the role of confidante and advisor that Kate had desperately needed. Still needed.

Mary knew more about her feelings for Cole than even Kate’s best friend, Lizzie. And certainly knew more than her father would ever guess.

As if sensing her, Mary spun around, a big smile on her face. Mary might not be a pretty woman, but Kate was sure her generous spirit had gained her more than beauty ever could.

“You hungry, child?” Beads of moisture dotted her forehead and dampened the wisps that had loosened from her bun of salt and pepper hair.

Kate shook her head. After her encounter with Cole, her hunger was taking a completely different path.

“You’ve been seeing Turner again?” It was more a statement than a question.

Kate nodded. “I’ve decided to marry him.” No reason to hide it now.

Mary’s dark eyes didn’t register surprise. “When hell freezes over.”

“He’s a good man. Inside, he’s a good man. It’s just that he’s been put in bad situations.” Kate needed Mary, of all people, to understand.

Mary went back to stirring the stew. Adding more salt, she took her time before facing Kate again.

“He must be if you’re so sure about it.” Mary’s skeptical tone belied her words. “But facts are facts. Your pa didn’t raise you to be some gunslinger’s wife. And it’s a little late for Cole Turner to turn into something else, regardless of your feelings for him.”

“He’s just twenty-three. He’s got his whole future.”

Setting down the spoon, Mary pulled out the wooden chair from the table and set her ample body down as if expecting a comfortable chat. “Gunslingers don’t have futures, honey. Face it. He’s got men gunning for him even now. Those rustlers he’s after for starters.

Kate’s breathing felt labored, her chest tight. She sank into the chair beside Mary, resting her elbows on the oak table as she held her aching head.  “That’s what has me so scared. If I don’t marry him and get him out of the bounty business, he’s going to get killed. He’s going to die.” The thought had terrorized her every day since Cole’s return when she’d learned about the life he now led.

Over the years, she’d imagined him in all sorts of scenarios—safe scenarios. Striking it rich in gold or silver and having a fine ranch somewhere. Or maybe he’d won so much at gambling, he’d been able to move to Nob Hill in San Francisco. Or he’d done something with his ability to tame horses, gathering a fine herd of his own. Anything but the kill-or-be-killed life he was leading. In her dreams, he’d come back for her and they would live happily ever after just like in the fairy tales. Then she’d wake up and have to face the possibility she might never see him again.

But God had finally answered her prayers and returned him to her whole and, so far, unscathed. At least in the physical sense. Lord knew, he was scarred elsewhere. How could he not be, enduring what he’d endured, watching what he had to watch, doing what he had to do? She wasn’t about to let him go this time. She was going to hold onto him, heal him, and
will
him a new life. A better life. The kind of life he should have had all along.

She looked up into Mary’s frowning face. “What am I going to do? You have to help me, Mary. My whole happiness depends upon it.”

Mary shook her head. “He’s a handsome devil, I’ll give you that. He walks down the street so proud and determined, with a face as hard as granite, and that golden hair of his. He looks just like those statues of Greek gods I saw in New Orleans all those years ago.”

What Mary said was true. Kate had never seen a more physically attractive man than Cole Turner. Forget that he was tall and slim-hipped. Forget that muscles bulged, even through his clothes, on his arms, his legs, and everywhere in between. He’d only had to look at her with those sparkling blue eyes of his and smile and her body would be humming with desire.

When he’d first kissed her again, her entire being had remembered him in one exhilarating instant. Every time he kissed her now, she got lost in the passion, in the feel of his body against hers.

She hadn’t realized it when he’d left the first time. She figured kissing any boy would turn her body to liquid fire. But five years had taught her the truth. No other man would ever make her feel what Cole did.

“But he’s not the kind of man you marry,” Mary interrupted Kate’s thoughts. “Trust me, I know. My Frank was just like him. Running from his own demons, chasing after something he’d never have. Cole’s broken, honey, and it would take more than you to fix him.”

Kate’s heart constricted. Mary knew his history. Knew what he was now. But Kate knew the Cole no one else had glimpsed. She’d seen the scared boy, the heartbroken son, the avenging angel.

“You married Frank,” Kate pointed out, keeping her tone reasonable.

Mary sighed. “I did, but I couldn’t change him. I was a widow before I even got with child.” Mary shook her head as she remembered. “It wasn’t a good life, honey.”

“But you’ve never wanted anyone else.”

“No,” Mary said quietly. “But I’m not Kate Flanders; rich, beautiful, and able to have just about anyone.”

“Anyone but Cole Turner.” Kate rubbed her forehead, praying that her plan would work. She had to keep him here. Keep him safe. Mary’s husband had died a violent death and he’d been only a deputy. What was in store for Cole being a bounty hunter, practically asking to be shot?

Mary reached over, and patted Kate’s hand. “He’s not good for you.”

Her stomach tumbled at hearing those words again. “That’s what he said.”

“Well, he’s got more sense then I gave him credit for.”

“He also said I wouldn’t make him a good wife.” His caustic appraisal still stung even though she wouldn’t let herself believe it.

“Well, him being on the move, hunting and being hunted, I dare say he’s right. Plus you’re used to the finer things. He knows he can’t give you what your father does.”

She didn’t want what her father gave her. She wanted Cole.

“I’m not giving up.” Tears welled in her eyes at the possibility of losing Cole again. Her plan
had
to work. Kate took a bracing breath, hoping it would calm her palpitating heart. “If Cole…if Cole compromised me, my father would have to let him marry me.”

Mary gasped and her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious, child.”

Kate pushed back her chair and stood. “Never more.”

Mary rose, too, almost toppling her chair. She grabbed for Kate’s hand, clutching it tightly. “You’ll disgrace yourself. You’ll disgrace your father. Your father doesn’t deserve that, Kate. Not from you.”

Something clamped down, deep inside, at the thought of her father’s disappointment, but Kate couldn’t lose courage now. “I don’t know what else to do. I’m not even sure Cole will do it. He’s turned me down.

Mary let out a slow breath. “Well, I declare. Maybe that man is better than I thought. Thank God, one of you has some sense. I’m just surprised that one is named Turner.” Mary squeezed Kate’s hand. “You can’t meet him anymore. I’ll have to tell your father if you go meet him again.”

With a sharp tug, Kate pulled her hand back. “You do what you have to do. And I’ll do what I have to do.”

Before her resolve could weaken, Kate ran from the muggy room. She didn’t look back, not even when she heard Mary’s sharp intake of breath.

Kate could only pray Mary followed through on her threat.

Chapter 3

Cole reached for the shot glass of whiskey and downed the fiery liquid in one impatient gulp. He turned to face the saloon’s swinging doors and leaned his elbows against the marred oak bar of the Red Bull, pressed his butt hard against the counter, and rested one boot heel on the rail. The piano player was clanking out a lively tune in keeping with the raucous laughter and intermittent shouts coming from the smattering of men who had found their way into the saloon on a Thursday night.

Too bad Charlie Pritchard wasn’t here yet. Cole didn’t know why he was pursuing buying a ranch. He’d picked up dribs and drabs about ranching as he’d played at being a cowhand while ferreting out the rustlers, but still knew next-to-nothing about cattle. Breeding horses would suit him better if it was to come to that. At least he knew something about horses and good horseflesh, his own Virginia-bred saddle horse attesting to the fact.

He’d paid a pretty penny for the gelding he’d named Lucky Star, for the star on his forehead and the hope the horse would be just that. Lucky, as he called him for short, had been with him for four years now and had been worth every bit of his price. It was the horse’s loyalty and even temper that had attracted him. The fact the horse was a better watchman than any dog had saved his life more than once.

He looked cautiously around the room. With its scarred floors, hard-used furniture and stale, cigar-scented air, the place suited its gun-toting clientele. He recognized a few faces, and by the way they turned away, he figured they recognized him, too. They’d never forget or forgive what he’d done and what he’d become. He’d known it when he’d run. He should have remembered it before he came back.

Polly was coming toward him, rounded hips sashaying, lips pouting, eyes wide. Even though nothing could change the hard look of a used woman, she still caught a man’s eye in a skimpy red dress that barely held her breasts.

“You buying?” she said touching his arm as she sidled up next to him. When he’d first come back to town, her touch would have been all the invitation he needed. But now...

“You want some whiskey?” Cole motioned to the barkeep without waiting for her answer. “And leave the bottle, Ted,” he advised when the burly man, who’d once funneled rotgut to his father, silently poured Polly’s drink.

“Yes, but that wasn’t what I was hoping you were buying,” she purred, looking him up and down.

“Not tonight, Polly.” He caught the overpowering scent of some lavender perfume she must have dumped on.

Polly picked up the whiskey glass and touched it to her lips, tracing the rim with her tongue. Nothing. He felt nothing. Hell, if it wasn’t for the kick he got from just
looking
at Kate, he’d wonder if he was still a man when Polly’s blatant invitation wasn’t doing anything for him.

“You haven’t been in my bed since you first came here. I know you liked it, Cole.” She lifted her chin before taking a sip. “You afraid of getting something? I’m clean.”

“Business tonight.”

Suddenly an older, gray-haired man with a day’s worth of silver stubble on his chin walked through the swinging doors. Cole nodded in his direction. “And here it comes.”

Polly sighed as she eyed Pritchard and finished her whiskey. “Guess I’ll leave you to it. If he’s a mind, tell him to see me after you’re done.” She arched a brow. “And if you change your mind, you come find me, hear?” With a pat on his arm, Polly moved on to her next customer.