Lily (Wildflowers Of Montana Book 5) (7 page)

I cried even harder, knowing the things we’d done together, the way he’d worked my body, surely no other man could compare. Jack—that wasn’t even his real name!—might be an outlaw and a liar, but he had been everything I wanted in a man. I just hadn’t known it until he was gone, until he’d used me and left.

***

I barely left my bedroom the first day after reading the article in the newspaper, telling Dr. Bower I had female troubles, to which he replied with a simple, “I understand,” and left me blissfully alone. In that moment, I was glad for his forthrightness as a doctor. I’d cried like a simpering fool, but there was no help for it. In the beginning, I cried because he’d left, that he’d played me the fool, that I was more of a ninny than any of the women in town who actually
were
ninnies. Then, a few days later, I cried because I could no longer feel the soreness from our one night together. My body had recovered from the way his cock had stretched me, had used me for his own pleasure. But that wasn’t true, for he’d seen to my own climax each and every time he fucked me, which made me cry even more.

A week later, as I stared listlessly at the pale yellow curtains fluttering in the windows, I realized several things at once. First, I
was
married to Jack. There was no denying that the church, the minister, the vows, or the ring. Wherever the man was, I was his wife. Second, I remembered his words:
Promise me, Lily, that no matter what you hear while I’m gone, that this is real. I’m coming back. That this is the only place I want to be. With you. In you.
 

He’d said this when his cock had been deep inside me, our breaths mingling, his body pressing me into the bed. I’d seen the sincerity, the vehemence of his words in his eyes. I’d even promised.

I knew he was a Pinkerton, knew his work was often secretive and often dangerous. Was this the case? What was the truth? The articles, the depth to the story had me questioning him, had me questioning everything. He’d said he’d only be gone a week, but it had been more than that. Should I question
him
or the story?

I sat bolt upright in bed. My hair was a dirty, snarled tangle about my face, my dress wrinkled. I doubted Jack, the only man who saw the real me and still wanted me. He’d sworn he’d return. He’d pushed me to promise that what we shared was real. It had felt real. Everything about him
had
been real. Too real. In fact, if it hadn’t been so intensely
real
I doubted I would have lain in bed miserable for a week. I was so miserable that what Jack had told me
must
be true. That was absolutely ridiculous, but reasonable.

I smiled as hope filled me. Something was afoot with him. Something big. He’d known it then and couldn’t tell me, for it was a dangerous secret. A secret so big it ended up on the front page of the Butte newspaper. Regardless, I’d promised. I’d promised to believe in what we had and the past week I hadn’t. Shame filled me then, realizing I hadn’t done the thing I’d vowed. I’d spent the week pushing him away.

Resolute, I knew I had to keep that promise to him and know that he’d come back, that he wanted to be with me. That didn’t mean I had to sit by idly and believe what the newspapers said. No, what the newspapers said about him were lies. I wanted to know the truth about my husband’s work, what he was involved in and the dangers he faced. If he couldn’t come back to me, for whatever reason, then I’d go to him. With a renewed sense of purpose, I swung my feet over the side of the bed.

I was mad at myself, furious even. I felt for his ring on my finger, my only connection to him, but it wasn’t there. I gasped, panic washing over me. When I remembered what I’d done with his ring—tossing it negligently across the room—I gasped and dropped to the wood floor and wiggled partway under my bed to reach the only tangible thing I had of him.

With the ring settled heavy on my finger once again, I took a deep breath and all at once felt closer to Jack. I was resolved. I had the truth to uncover and I knew just where to start.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JACK

This was the stupidest fucking thing I’d ever done. I stopped outlaws from robbing banks, I didn’t help them. But here I was, riding into town, a loaded gun at my hip. It wasn’t for protection, but to wave in front of innocent people to get what Benson wanted. Money. The only way I kept my horse plodding along beside the others was knowing that this would all soon be over. The plan was in motion. I just had to get through a fucking bank robbery first. Of course, I had to get away alive. The sheriff in town didn’t know I was a Pinkerton. Hell, I barely remembered that fact. Living with the bastards for a month had made me jaded and mean. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be good. I hadn’t forgotten what it looked like though, for every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lily’s face. I saw her hair like a waterfall across my pillow. I saw her eyes widen as she came.

When she saw me next, she wouldn’t recognize me, wouldn’t see the man she married. My beard had grown in, my hair longer and over my collar. I’d only bathed in a fucking river or stream the past weeks. My clothes were covered in dust and I surely smelled. When we’d gone into town to study the bank, I’d had to follow the men to the saloon for them to drink whiskey and fuck whores. I’d had to pay a girl to take me upstairs and bounce up and down on her bed, pretending a good, hard fuck. With her dark hair and overly voluptuous body, I should have been aroused. In the past, I would have gotten a cock stand at just the curvy swell of her breasts, easily enjoying a playful few hours, but she wasn’t Lily.

My cock didn’t want anyone but Lily. My mind didn’t want anyone else either. Neither did my heart.

The thought of her had me nudging my horse to move a little faster.

The bank was new, made of stone and formidable next to the more ragtag structures that lined the town’s main street. While the town was booming from mining in the area, there was no copper and it wasn’t Butte. It was toward closing, when the streets were quieter, but there would still be witnesses, innocent bystanders. Employees. I just had to ensure that Benson didn’t shoot any of them.

Morgan went in first and Crumb followed with Benson. I was to enter last, to be the watch. While my story was that I was an outlaw like them and I’d stolen the strongbox from the train, I wasn’t a bank robber. These men were. In this situation, thank fuck, I was just the lookout.

When I slipped into the cool interior of the bank, that changed. I was always sharply focused, my mind honed to a razor’s edge when dealing with dangerous situations, but when I saw the familiar glint of fiery red, I thought I would die from apoplexy. I’d spent the past six weeks—
six fucking weeks—
dreaming of that hair, the feel of it, the scent of it. My fingers had itched to touch it again. But now? Here?

Lily was here, in the bank with a gun pointed at her.

Fuck. Shit. Damn.
Fuck!
 

I couldn’t tear my gaze from her. She looked… perfect. Even with her arms up in the air, I thought of how well it showed the swells of her breasts beneath her green dress. She glanced my way. Had her eyes always been that deep emerald? I swear her skin seemed more peaches and cream, more translucent than ever. I got hard just looking at her.

Hard and completely panicked. I’d never been so scared in my life as I was right now. Jesus, Benson was here, riled and ready to steal some money. No one stood in his way. Here was Lily with her fucking arms in the air because she was his hostage.

No. Fuck. She was
my
hostage, too.

I noticed the imperceptible slumping of her shoulders, as if she was relieved to see me. Had she planned this? Just looking at her, I knew. Of course, she fucking planned this! Why else would she be in Bozeman in a bank at the exact time I was robbing it? She’d found me. How the hell she’d done that, I had no idea. She was an admitted bluestocking and had the smarts to work it out. Her brain worked faster than anyone I knew. When I married her, though, I hadn’t expected that intelligence to take her right into danger. Shit. Her smarts were to keep her
out
of it!

That led me to wonder if
she
could track me down, why the hell couldn’t the colonel? Instead of waiting for us to escape with the money and ambushing us out on the prairie, this could have been finished last week if only those men would get their heads out of their asses. But no. They wanted proof. Stolen money. They wanted it neat and tidy, ready for them to claim they captured the notorious outlaw themselves. While the copper kings were willing to pay handsomely for Benson, they weren’t willing to get their hands dirty. So I stood at the window watching for the sheriff.

I
wanted
to grab Lily into my arms and carry her right out of the bank, right down the street and not stop until no one knew me, no one knew us and we were safe. Alone. I wanted to grab her into my arms and hug her and kiss her, breathing in her perfect scent.

“Open the safe!” Benson shouted, and I looked away from Lily. I gripped the gun in my hand so hard my knuckles were white.

He, Morgan and Crumb were energized and eager for this heist. That meant they were wound up enough just to kill someone for the hell of it. I couldn’t just stand in front of Lily protecting her. If they knew she belonged to me, everything would turn to fucking hell.

I went over to the window that faced the street, keeping Lily in my periphery. I wanted to go over to her and shield her with my body, but I couldn’t let the men know she was known to me. I couldn’t sure as fuck let them know she was my
wife.
I really did watch what was going on outside, for if the sheriff appeared, he might come in and shoot us all, perhaps hitting Lily in the process. We had to pull off this robbery and I had to help.

There were two tellers behind the counter and one customer besides Lily. All three were male; all three were quite pale and sweating. This was clearly their first robbery. Lily, however, was calm and while nervous—I saw her fidgeting from foot to foot—she was not the least bit surprised. Had she been sitting in the fucking bank all day waiting? How the hell did she get to Bozeman? Where the
fuck
was Dr. Bower? Jesus, that woman roamed the territory as if she were a queen.

When I got her alone, I swear I’d spank that attitude right out of her. Then I’d fuck her. I’d fuck her so hard she’d forget she lived in the territory.

“Pike! Get yer head out of yer ass and keep watch.”

Benson’s growl had me looking back out the window. I gritted my teeth against the need to rip the man limb from limb. No, shoot the bastard in the back. I glanced outside. No lawmen.

Crumb whooped when the safe opened and they spent a minute filling bags. While distracted, I glanced at Lily, who was staring right back at me. She arched one delicate auburn brow and I narrowed my eyes in return. When I got my hands on her… She, of course, narrowed her eyes right back. God, she was so fucking prickly without even talking.

The outlaws came around the counter and Benson waved the gun at the single customer. “You, you’re coming with us.”

The man’s eyes widened in fright and his lips thinned. Sweat trickled down his brow.

“No,” I said, before thinking. The three men whipped their head toward me. I tilted my chin toward Lily. “Her. If we’re taking a hostage, I want her.”

Lily’s mouth fell open and I heard a little squeak escape.

Benson took a step in her direction, but I beat him to Lily’s side. I gripped her arm and yanked her into me. I couldn’t be gentle, couldn’t lean in and kiss that plump lower lip I knew was soft and lush. I refused to revel in the feel of her soft curves pressed against my side. I had to fake disinterest in her as my wife, but interest in her as a woman I wanted to kidnap and enjoy.

“Good thinking. We could enjoy a pretty piece like her.”

I shook my head slowly and eyed Benson. “I like red hair. I’ve been waiting for a woman just like her.” I tugged on one of her curls, leaned in and sniffed it.

Lily cried out in surprise, then stepped back, but yelped when I still held onto her hair.

“This woman, hell, she’s my prize for helping you.” Grabbing the neat bun at her nape, I tugged on it, arching her long throat. She gasped and I remembered how she sounded the first time I entered her tight pussy. I leaned in and sniffed again and I swear I almost came. I could see her pulse thrumming.

“Get your filthy hands off me!” she cried, pushing against me. She was quite an actress and my cock seemed to enjoy her pretend struggle. It was something we might have to try, when I got her alone and guns weren’t being waved around—this whole outlaw and prisoner play. Hell, it might not be all that pretend since I was planning to tie her to our bed and keep her there.

The men chuckled at her fight.

“She might be a little wildcat, but I don’t share,” I said the last through clenched teeth.

“I’m not going to fucking argue with you about a stiff and frigid miss standing here. If you want her, bring her.”

Benson stormed out, the others following and I had no choice but to drag Lily after me. Now what the fuck was I going to do?

CHAPTER EIGHT

LILY

I’d never been in a bank robbery before and had to admit it was quite exhilarating, although the only reason I thought so was because Jack was there. Otherwise, it was a terrifying incontinence-inducing nightmare. I’d waited on Bozeman’s main street for over two hours, watching for Jack to come. I knew he would, for I was very sure of my investigation. In the past few weeks, I wasn’t the only Matthews who could play the detective. While Jack had grown a beard and his hair was overlong, I knew him anywhere. From the way his shoulders were back to the way he sat on a horse, even the angle of his hat, I recognized him. I didn’t remain and linger on the boardwalk, but entered the bank just a few minutes ahead of them, taking a seat at a small bench. When a teller came out to offer some assistance, I fanned myself, pretending to take a moment to cool down as I waited for my husband. The man made the assumption that my husband was a customer of the bank who did not allow his wife access to funds without him, not one of the soon-to-enter bank robbers.