Beautiful Bandit (Lone Star Legends) (37 page)

He slid his arm around her, just as he had just moments ago. Her lips were a mere fraction of an inch from his when he said, “Didn’t you hear what I said just now?”

When she blinked, he could have sworn those long, lush lashes stirred the very air between them. “When you asked what you’d done to me,” he coaxed her.

Now she understood, as evidenced by the way her perfectly arched brows disappeared into her bangs as she attempted to withdraw. “Is this just your way, running off every time something seems the least bit uncomfortable or challenging?”

Tears filled her eyes, and her lower lip trembled when she said, “I don’t want to run, Josh. Not ever, ever again.” She blinked, and a tear plopped from her eye onto his cheek. “It’s just— You’re so— And I’m—I’m—”

He half expected her to say that he was too weak for all this carrying on. That he had a big, loving family, and she was alone in the world. The last thing he’d expected her to say was, “I’m tainted.”

There were tears in his eyes, too, when it dawned on him what she meant. What she’d gone through at the hands of Frank Michaels made him ache to the marrow of his bones. If he hadn’t heard his father telling someone she’d already killed the sorry excuse of a man, Josh would do it himself!

“Aw, darlin’,” he crooned, “what happened to you…it doesn’t matter. Can’t you see that?” He gave her a gentle shake. “None of it matters! You sacrificed yourself for us, and then you saved my life. And, just so you know, you don’t need to worry about the Rangers anymore; they know all about what happened, and they’ve cleared you of any guilt.” With one hand on each of her cheeks, he said, slowly and deliberately, “I love you.”

It felt like ten full minutes passed as her beautiful eyes scanned his face, as her fingertips combed through his hair. “I know,” she whispered at last, “and it breaks my heart, because you deserve more, so much more, than someone like me, who can’t even give you children.”

Josh was confused. Of all the things swirling in his head, children were not among them. “Why can’t you give me children?”

“Because, when he—” She bit her lip. “When Frank— There was blood, and—” Now, she heaved a ragged sigh. “It probably means I’m barren.”

He would have laughed if she hadn’t looked so forlorn. “Kate, sweetheart,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose, “we don’t know what the—” He couldn’t bring himself to say “blood,” because it only reminded him of all she’d been through. “It might not mean anything of the kind.”

She studied his face for a moment, and, as she did, he watched her worries and fears fade. In their place, he saw a certain serenity, which told him she believed it when he said he loved her—despite her past and because of it.

“Oh,” she said, “so now you’re a lawyer and a doctor, are you?”

After seeing her go from terrified to relatively composed, he felt like a cad and a heel for having heard about the blood, but it was a blessed relief to know she’d been chaste when Michaels had brutalized her. “Let’s talk to Dr. Lane about it. Maybe we’ll have babies, and maybe we won’t. As long as I have you, I’ll be a happy man.”

She sighed, and her expression said, “Are you sure?” But in place of the question, Kate chewed her lower lip.

“I’m as sure of that as I am that your name will soon be Kate Neville.”

He tried to wipe a wayward tear from her cheek and cringed at the pain caused by even such a small movement.

“Let go of me, you fool man,” she said, smiling sweetly. “You have a long, long way to go before you’ve recuperated enough to talk of such frivolous matters as marriage.”

“Well, think about this—I’ll have a whole lot more incentive to get better fast if you’ll agree to marry me.”

Another agonizing moment of silence passed, and Josh groaned inwardly. “For the love of God and all that’s holy,” he said, “just say yes!”

She grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I love you, Josh. But that isn’t the only reason I’m going to marry you.”

He waited patiently as she adjusted his pillows and smoothed his sheets.

“It’ll take me years to pay you back for the horse, and the boots, and that big, floppy hat, and—”

“Kate,” Josh whispered, pulling her close again.

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

45

Kate stood at the back of the church, hiding behind her bouquet of bluebonnets and smiling, because, even through her veil, she could see Josh tugging at the collar of his shirt. How good it was to see him looking so strapping in his dark suit. A far stretch from the haggard man he’d been just weeks ago.

With determination, Kate pushed the memory of the gunfight—and everything that had led up to and followed it—from her mind. For the first time in her life, she was happy, truly and completely content, and she refused to let the haunting memories of Frank Michaels ruin her wedding day.

She glanced around the church, seeing Eagle Pass residents and folks who worked at the Lazy N; seeing the Nevilles, who had welcomed her so warmly into their home when she’d arrived, bruised and limping and frightened. How blessed she was that, after learning about her past—a past that nearly cost them one of their own—they’d still seen fit to shower her with love and affection, making sure she knew without a doubt that they considered her family.

She waved at Dinah, Theodore, and Etta Mae, who sat there in their Sunday finest, smiling like proud parents. Yes, she was blessed, indeed, for they’d made the long trek from San Antonio to be a part of her happy day.

Kate bit her lip to stanch the tears that threatened to puddle in her eyes, because, oh, how blessed she was! How she’d merited any of this—the warmth of the Neville family, the acceptance of the church parishioners, the strong, sure love of a man like Josh—Kate couldn’t say. But she would never take it for granted from this day forward. And I’ll never take You or Your provision for granted again, Lord, after doubting You for so many years.

The thought reminded her of the gentle scolding Josh had given her when she’d shared all the reasons why she’d felt justified in blaming the Almighty for the misfortune and hardship He’d rained upon the Nevilles and her. She’d followed it by telling him that if he could accept the Lord’s tender mercies as fact, despite all his family had gone through, she owed it to him to try faith on for size. “Trust in God is something you owe yourself, beautiful Kate,” he’d said.

Thank You, she silently prayed, for every blessing You’ve bestowed on this unworthy servant.

A flash of white up ahead captured her attention, and it was all she could do to keep from running to the altar to help Josh adjust his sling. He seemed to sense her concern and, smiling, slowly shook his head, forefinger ticking left and right. “I’m fine,” he mouthed. Then, he pointed at the floor, a silent signal that she should get up there and take her vows so that she could become his wife, once and for all.

Once and for all….

The concept made her heave a wistful sigh, because in no time, the handsome cowboy standing at the front of the church would be her husband. Her husband!

He’d polished his boots, and the silver studs on his string tie matched the slide nestled under his Adam’s apple. It rose and fell as he swallowed, proof that he was as anxious as she to get the ceremony under way.

Yes, any minute now, the pastor’s wife would pound out those first rib-racking chords of “Amazing Grace”—Esther’s favorite hymn—and those gathered there would stand to watch her walk down the aisle in the gown Sarah had worked on, day and night, for the past several weeks. The simple dress of silk was unadorned, save for the shimmering train that trailed behind. Yards of hazy lace cloaked her from the circlet of flowers on her head to the satin slippers on her feet. In the weeks since he’d asked her to marry him, Josh had called her pretty and beautiful, lovely and stunning, and, today, she felt all of those things, because the glow of his love had shined its way right into her lonely heart.

The organ music swelled, and she moved forward, feeling more like a tuft of cottonwood floating on a breeze than a bride, on her way to join her groom. Josh held out his hand as she ascended the front stairs to the altar, and she slipped hers into it. Side by side, they faced Reverend Peterson, who opened his Bible and instructed them to join their other hands, as well.

To Josh, he began, “Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Kate knew that look, and when the preacher finished talking, she half expected Josh to say, “Finally!” But he gave her hand another squeeze and, smiling, said, “I will.”

Then it was her turn to listen as the pastor repeated the vow, and when she said, “I will,” Josh squeezed her hand yet again.

“What token of your love do you offer?”

Josh let go of her hands long enough to produce a gleaming, gold band from his jacket pocket. When had he found time to buy it? Then, his lips formed the name “Mee-Maw,” and Kate understood in a heart-swelling flash that this must be the surprise Esther had mentioned on the day of her death.

Reverend Peterson handed Josh back the ring and said, “Place this ring on Kate’s finger and repeat after me.”

Josh’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the band onto the third finger of her left hand and repeated after Reverend Peterson, “With this ring, I thee wed, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Kate felt Josh shift restlessly as Reverend Peterson prayed, “Bless, O Lord, this ring, that he who gives it and she who wears it may abide in Thy peace, and continue in Thy favor, unto their life’s end; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Kate felt a little sorry for the reverend, but only a little, for she was just as eager to become Josh’s wife as he was to become her husband.

After the final prayer, Josh unceremoniously lifted her veil. Slipping his right arm around her waist, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers in a long, lingering kiss. When at last he stood back, he looked at Reverend Peterson. “Well,” he said, grinning, “what are you waiting for, man? Get on with the ‘I now pronounce you’ part, why don’t you?”

Matching his grin tooth for tooth, Reverend Peterson chuckled. “Forasmuch as Joshua and Kate have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving a ring, and by joining hands, I pronounce that they are man and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

Josh kissed her again, and as they walked slowly toward the back of the church, he leaned close. “Are you happy, Kate?”

Smiling through tears of joy, she said, “Absolutely. Completely. Totally. Wholly.” She stepped in front of him and blocked his path. “And you, Josh? Are you happy?”

“You bet I am,” he whispered, pulling her into another embrace, “now that finally I’ve made an honest woman of my beautiful bandit.”

She stood, slack-jawed and staring, for a moment, which set off a chain reaction of whispers that drifted from pew to pew. And when Kate’s merry giggle echoed throughout the church, he silenced it with another sweetly satisfying kiss.

An Excerpt from Maverick Heart,

Book Two in the Lone Star Legends Series

Coming in Winter 2011

Chapter One

May 1888 • Somewhere along the San Antonio Road

Levee huddled in the corner of the stagecoach and prayed that Liam wouldn’t notice her tears. “You behave as though you’re the first woman to have a miscarriage!” he’d scolded her. “Pull yourself together. Can’t you see you’re making everyone miserable?”

That had been three days ago, but the memory of it still stung like gritty, windblown Texas dust. She’d never been the type to wallow in self-pity, but was it too much to ask her husband to show some warmth and compassion? As a doctor, he should have realized her reaction to losing the baby was perfectly normal, especially if a mere nurse, such as Levee, understood it.

Frowning, she tucked her lace-trimmed handkerchief back into her purse—a mistake, for Liam saw and correctly guessed that she’d been crying. Again.

“You’ll never get over it if you don’t at least try to put it out of your mind.”

Impatience and disappointment echoed in his voice, which hurt almost as much as his earlier reprimand. Levee heaved a sigh. Oh, if only she could forget!

Maybe, he had a point, and thirty-four days was long enough to grieve for her lost child. As one of the first women to earn a nursing degree, Levee understood the mental and physical aftereffects of a failed pregnancy. But could melancholia explain why she believed her husband couldn’t mourn the loss of his firstborn because he was too excited about opening his clinic?

Another sigh. Like it or not, they’d arrive in Mexico in a matter of days. Chihuahua, of all places, where she didn’t know a soul, and the people spoke a language she didn’t understand. Where, according to Boston newspapers, gangs of outlaws roamed the—

“Hold on to your hats, folks!” the driver bellowed. “Bandits, ridin’ in hard and fast!”