Daisies In The Wind
Read Daisies In The Wind Online
Authors: Jill Gregory
Tags: #romance, #adventure, #historical romance, #sensuous, #western romance, #jill gregory
By Jill
Gregory
Smashwords edition 2011
Copyright 2011 © Jill Gregory
.
eBook Formatted by
A Thirsty
Mind
eBook Cover Design by Marsha Canham
First published by Dell Publishing, 1994. All rights
reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are either products of the author’s
imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,
locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All
rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
without permission in writing from Jill Gregory.
For Isadore and Jenny, and Morris and Sophie,
with love.
Table of Contents
Excerpt from When the Heart Beckons
Arizona Territory
1866
Stillness gripped the valley but for the
hawks wheeling in the hot, merciless air. The run-down outlaw shack
hidden among the sage-gray rocks and juniper appeared empty.
But Wolf Bodine knew better than to trust
appearances. Though he was only twenty-two, his four-year stint in
the U.S. cavalry had taught him shrewdness and caution. As he
sidled through the rough-hewn door, his gun was drawn and at the
ready, and every muscle in his large, rugged frame was taut.
The reputed hideout of Bear Rawlings’ gang
was not the place to get careless.
But it seemed his caution was for nothing,
Wolf concluded in disappointment after prowling through the main
room of the shack and the small, windowless bedroom in back. If
Rawlings had ever been here, he was gone now, and there was no sign
of him or his gang. The shack contained nothing but a rusting water
pail in one corner, a bed, a few pieces of stacked wood near an
ancient stove, two chairs, and some tin cups and plates in a
cupboard. The place had been cleaned up and cleaned out. But as
Wolf moved toward the door, he heard a sound from the bedroom.
His gray eyes grew hard, wary. Stealthily he
made his way through the doorway into the bedroom, his boots
treading lightly across the hard-packed earthen floor.
A faint film of sweat glistened at the open
neck of his blue cambric shirt as he ran his gaze once more over
the room. There was only one place to hide—beneath the narrow cot
on the far bedroom wall.
Then came another sound, a tiny one, the
merest scuff of a heel, but Wolf was on it in a flash. He heaved
the cot up with one hand and sent it crashing against the back wall
while with his other hand he aimed the pistol at the shape huddled,
exposed, beneath.
“Don’t move!”
But even as these words rang out, Wolf knew a
keen disappointment. He realized at once that the culprit who’d
been hiding beneath the cot was not Bear Rawlings or another one of
his outlaw pards, after all, but only a scrawny kid, no more than
ten or eleven years old.
Wolf swore under his breath. Carefully he
holstered his gun and then with one muscle-corded arm hauled the
youngster up.
The boy struggled wildly against the iron
hands that lifted him clear off the dirt floor, but he was no match
for the six foot two, very agile, and very strong Bodine.
“Let me go!” The kid kicked, punched, spat
like the devil—missing his aim, however, each time.
“Take it easy, boy.” Wolf s lean face relaxed
as he pinioned the boy’s thin wrists in one fist, and he knelt down
to study him at eye level with a steady, appraising glance. “I
won’t hurt you if you tell me where Bear and his pards are
hiding.”
And then he stopped. His eyes narrowed on the
scrawny, raggedly dressed boy flailing wildly against his grasp.
Boy?
Hell and damnation, not by a long shot.
Brilliant violet eyes blazed back at him from
within a small, pinched, nut-brown face. Wolf saw the she-cat
sizzle in those dazzling eyes, saw that they were fringed by spiky,
sooty lashes, and he noted simultaneously the fragile sweep of
cheekbone so delicate, it could only be feminine. The dark brows
were slim, daintily arched. And as he watched in stunned amazement
the youth’s flea-bitten sombrero slipped sideways, and a tangle of
jaggedly cut long black hair flopped forward.
“Let me go, you dirty, low-down, no-good
lawman!”
A girl. Stunned, he rocked back on his heels
and let her go.
Instantly she swung her arm at him in a wide,
vicious arc that swooshed through the air and narrowly missed his
jaw.
“Why, you little hellcat.” He grinned. “That
wasn’t very polite.”
As he reached for her wrist again, she lunged
at him, her dirt-encrusted nails clawing, her small mouth working
contortedly as she spewed out a string of curses that would have
done a cavalryman proud. Wolf grasped her again by both wrists,
holding her only as tightly as was necessary to keep her still,
trying not to hurt her. “Easy, peanut,” he said soothingly. “Take
it easy. I only want to talk to you.”
She was perhaps eleven, maybe twelve, no
more—a dirty, swearing, ragged little beauty, with legs skinny as
twigs and tiny breasts only beginning to bud beneath her greasy
flannel shirt.
But one day, Wolf guessed, she’d be a
stunner. What the hell was she doing here?
“What’s your name?” he inquired as she at
last ceased struggling and glared at him with unmitigated
loathing.
For answer she drew a deep breath and spat
square into his face.
Wolf wiped away the spittle with his
bandanna, all the while holding both her wrists easily in one large
hand, trying to retain his patience. He’d endured all the rigors of
war, seen his friends and enemies brutally slain, withstood heat,
hunger, fatigue, and despair. He could certainly manage one feisty
eleven-year-old girl without losing his temper.
One undoubtedly frightened eleven-year-old
girl. Though her face radiated defiance, plain common sense told
him that beneath the furious rebellion she must be plenty scared.
Her pulse raced beneath his thumb. Her violet eyes shone dark and
wild in the shadowy dimness.
Wolf tried to be cool and professional about
the situation, but he was touched with pity. The last thing he
wanted to do was terrify a child, but he couldn’t very well leave
without finding out who she was and what her connection was with
the Rawlings gang—if there was any connection. He kept his voice
quiet, calm, speaking to her the way he would have to his own
little sister, if she’d lived past infancy.
“I won’t hurt you, honey. I promise. But I’ll
tell you right now, I’m not letting go of you until you give me
some answers. And I’m a real patient man, so I’ll wait all day—all
night—if I have to.”
“Bear’ll kill you if you touch me! Say your
prayers, mister, you’re going straight to hell!”
“Where is Bear? Did he leave you here all
alone? You know where he is, don’t you, peanut? Are you his
daughter?”
Her mouth twisted with contempt. “Who wants
to know?”
“Wolf Bodine.”
She went very still. Her skin seemed to pale
beneath her weathered tan. She stared intently, all quiet and
coiled like a rattler.
“You want to kill my father.” She breathed at
last, hate and loathing throbbing through her voice. “I’ve heard of
you. You cleaned up Medicine Bend. And killed the Foster gang.
Well, I won’t let you kill Bear. I’ll shoot you myself first!”
“Look, sweetheart, I don’t want to kill
anyone. But Bear Rawlings and his gang stole a very important
payroll a few days ago from the stage headed to Tucson, and that
money doesn’t belong to them. They broke the law—you understand
that, don’t you?”
“I’m not stupid! But Bear says if you can
outsmart folks and get their money away, you’ve earned it and they
don’t deserve it! If he catches you here, you’ll be real sorry!
Bear can’t stomach lawmen. Me neither! So let me go and get the
hell out of here while you’re still breathin’, cuz when they come
back ...!”
So they were coming back for her. That was
all he needed to know.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“None of your damned business.”
Wolf shook his head. “You shouldn’t be here,”
he said quietly, releasing her wrists and rising to his full
height. “It’s no life for a pretty little girl.”
Those were the last words he uttered before
he saw her eyes flick upward, focusing on someone behind
him—someone, he realized instantly, who’d sneaked in while he was
intent on her, and who in the next split second hit him from
behind—hit him hard with something that sent Wolf Bodine crashing
into iron blackness.
* * *
Reb sprang forward, her heart skittering like
a jackrabbit in her chest. “You’ve killed him!” she cried.
Fearfully, she knelt over the handsome young stranger with the
chestnut hair and quiet voice and touched his unmoving shoulder.
She was crying, she discovered, and she didn’t know why.
Russ Gaglin fingered the butt of his gun,
which had just slammed Wolf Bodine in the skull. He studied the
blood that ran from a gash in the fallen man’s temple. “He ain’t
dead, Reb. See his chest goin’ up and down? Should’ve killed him,
though,” he grumbled. “Don’t know why I didn’t. Could’ve shot him
in the back easy as pie. Matter of fact maybe I should finish him
off right now—”
“No!”
She was on him in a flash, shoving him
backward. “You’ve done enough! Leave him be!”
Russ snorted in disgust at the way the kid
had herself all worked up over Bodine. Bear’s girl sure was a
strange one—she could be quiet as an ant for days and then suddenly
explode in your face like a miniature firecracker. But he slipped
his gun into his holster and held up his hands in surrender.
“Okay, Reb, okay. But don’t waste your tears
on no lawman. Bear’s waitin’ for us up on the Rim.”
“Tears ... what’re you talkin’ about?” She
swiped at her face with grimy fingers. “Who’s crying? Not me!”
“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”
He stomped to the door of the cabin and
waited for her to scurry out in front of him, but she lingered a
moment, biting her lip, gazing down in agitation at the unconscious
man bleeding all over the floor.
“Maybe we should do something ...”
“You deaf, missy? Bear’s waitin’! Let’s
ride!”
Sorry, Mr. Wolf Bodine
, Reb thought
as she leaped onto the back of the hardy pinto mustang Russ had
kept hidden for her in a remote section of the valley.
But you
shouldn’t have come after Bear. You shouldn’t have tried to track
down our gang.
Still, as she galloped across the blazing
Arizona wilderness with Russ in the lead, she couldn’t stop
thinking about the stranger. He was unlike any man she’d ever
encountered before, even Bear.