Wilda's Outlaw (23 page)

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Authors: Velda Brotherton

Tags: #Victorian, #Western

BOOK: Wilda's Outlaw
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Like getting shot down in a gunfight somewhere. Damn fool. But it was too late to change, to look back.

How to tell her that? Hurt her easy or hurt her hard.

“Sorry I got carried away,” he said in as offhanded a way as he could manage. “You know how men are? I’ve no intention of taking a woman like you. Too soft, too regal.” He hardened the words, spat them at her.

Anger flared in her eyes, but she appeared at a loss for words. A gesture, open hand turned upward and moving toward him, was all she could manage.

He shook his head, wet hair swinging. “You tempted me, that’s all. Men don’t take to that, can’t always control ourselves when we see a naked woman. I reckon you just didn’t know that. You’d best be more careful. Maybe that’s why you got that.” He gestured toward the injured hip. “Now, you ought to put on your clothes before Baron comes back. He might not be so kind.”

“Kind? I did not realize you were being kind.” A sob caught in her throat, but when she lifted her face her blue eyes had iced over, like she’d managed to control whatever was about to erupt. “I apologize for my behavior. It will not happen again.”

He turned his back on her fury, climbed out and dragged on his pants, tucking himself inside so he could button them up. Gathering his shirt and boots, he strode away before anything worse could happen. If he had his way, he’d leave her here, him and Baron ride off and never come back. But Baron was set on dragging her along to that bank, and he saw no way short of shooting the man to make him change his mind. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to rob that damned bank. That’s what he did, after all, wasn’t it? Take what wasn’t his? And so, now was he thinking of the money in the bank, or this luscious woman? It was simply that he didn’t want her there with them. There must be another solution, there had to be.

And then he realized there was. Surprised that he hadn’t seen it before, he strode back to the shack. He’d take care of everything tonight while Baron slept, and he’d never know until it was too late.

All he had to do was truss her up and take her back to the Englishman’s castle, dump her at the front door and ride away. If there were flaws in his thinking, he couldn’t see any, but then he could be blinded.

****

Muttering under her breath, Wilda wiggled her way into the dress Rachel had given her, all but dried by the fierce hot wind. She took the time to sit beside the pool of water and put her shoes on, but discarded what was left of the tattered stockings. Calder had reduced her to this half-naked state, then accused her of tempting him. Then teased her into thinking he would actually accept what she offered. How could he just walk away like that? Weren’t men supposed to be animals when aroused? And the good Lord knew he was aroused. She’d never seen such a thing. The idea of where he would have put that weapon of his set her to trembling. But he’d controlled himself quite well. So much for the dire warnings of the sisters at St. Ann’s.

She sat on the ground musing, one shoe on and the other in her hand. Remembered coming upon her parents at play, her lovely mother, shoes and stockings off, skirt lifted to expose shapely legs, as she ran through the green grass of early spring. Wilda’s father chased behind her, their shouts of joy ringing across the meadow.

Her Irish mother, steeped in Catholicism from the day of her birth, had summoned the courage to put aside the stern warnings of her parents and marry her Anglican lover. Ran off with him to a foreign land never to see her beloved Ireland again. How difficult it must have been, only made a bit easier by her sister going along, doing the same with the man she loved. Wilda’s father’s brother.

Rebellion ran in her blood, and that would explain what she had done today with Calder Raines. The knowledge gave her little satisfaction, for he had not reciprocated. If he had, she would no longer be a virgin. He had, instead, grown very angry, at both himself and her. What dark secrets ran deep in his soul, she could not guess, but he was a man bound for perdition. By his actions he had probably saved her, but she couldn’t help being very angry with him, and terribly disappointed that her fantasy had not reached fruition. She’d probably never have another chance like that.

By the time she arrived at the shack, her mind was made up. After dark, when both men were asleep, she would take Gabe and ride away. She had no idea where she would go, or what Calder would do when he found she’d stolen his horse, but it could not be helped. She could not remain here any longer. Surely he would never let any harm come to Rachel from that evil Baron. This she knew.

She had watched the men saddle their animals and thought she could do it. Had to do it, for there was no other way.

All evening she remained out of the way of the two men, who spent their time arguing over the bank robbery. They would go in the morning, and she would ride with them, that much she understood. Except that she would not be there come morning.

Once they all settled down for the night, she felt a certain relief. That didn’t stop her heart from pounding when she rose silently and crept out the door. She had kept her shoes on, turning the bottom of the bedding up over her legs so they wouldn’t notice. Taking the steps cautiously, she moved through the dark yard, night vision revealing the two animals in the makeshift corral against the bluff. Both saddles hung over the fence. She identified Calder’s and dragged it off. Staggered under the weight, got her footing and saw too late she should have brought the horse out of the corral first. Now she had her hands full and couldn’t do so. She set the saddle on the ground and crawled through the fence to retrieve Gabe.

****

After following Wilda when she crept from the darkened shack, Calder hung back to see what she was up to.

What the hell
was
she up to? His saddle…his horse. The little thief, she was stealing his horse. But why and where was she going? All he could conclude was that she intended to ride to the manor and spill everything, including his plans to rob the bank.

He clenched both fists. Baron had been right all along.
Damn her
.

After one moment when he almost revealed himself to challenge her, he thought better of it. Might be best to watch what she did next. He could always stop her. Gabe was having none of the woman, and snorted and pranced about out of her reach. He loved to tease, and was having himself a good old time with this greenhorn. He’d watch her, ears flicking, tail twitching until she almost got a hand on him, then he’d move away, study her some more.

“Horse, stand still.” She leaped forward, both hands reaching for his mane. She missed, went to her knees with a cry, then covered her mouth and looked all around. Gabe blew through his lips and did a little dance.

Calder let the game go on a while longer, until Baron’s horse got in on it and he was afraid the noise would awaken his sleeping friend. He moved silently across the yard and leaned on the top rail of the fence. Intent on limping about after Gabe, she failed to see him.

“Might help if you had his bridle, or maybe you could try roping him.”

She let out a squawk and immediately silenced it with one hand.

He climbed into the corral, took her arm and guided her away from the two rambunctious horses. “Keep this up you’re liable to get stomped on. Ole Gabe there’ll only take so much tomfoolery, and that stallion of Baron’s ain’t up for any at all. Why don’t you tell me just what you were doing?”

“Leaving,” she said, glanced down. “Ewww, I stepped in some manure.”

“You mean horseshit?”

“I guess I do mean horseshit,” she retorted, sticking that stubborn chin out at him.

The word did not sit easily on her tongue and she spat it out as if it tasted as bad as the thing itself. Obviously, she was determined to stand up to him.

Being near her killed the earlier anger. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. “Leaving for where? And how? Don’t tell me you were going to steal my horse. And go where?” He took her arm firmly, then turned loose when she winced.

“Not steal…exactly. I would’ve sent him back to you.”

“Sent him back? Packaged him up like a letter and put him on a stage?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“They hang horse thieves in Kansas.”

She gulped audibly. “Hang? You mean like they hang people who rob banks? That sort of hang?”

She had him there, he supposed, but he was disappointed that Baron had been right about her intentions. “So you were going to turn me in, me and Baron?” Even saying the words of betrayal hurt and he cleared his throat. Damn it all, anyway. How did things get to such a pass? He should’ve run from her as fast as he could right at the beginning.

“No, never. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was waiting for you to go to sleep.”

“Why? So you could take off more of my clothes? I don’t have much left.”

“No, not so I could take off more of your clothes. This whole thing has gone too far, way too far. It’s time you went back home where you belong.”

Silence greeted his statement, and he wished he could make out her features better. Shadows masked them, but he could see a gleam in her eyes.

“I don’t have a home, and you blamed well know it. Damn you, how can you be so nice and then so mean? I don’t understand you.”

“Well, there you are. You’ve finally become a woman of the west. Cussing, and all.”

“What do you expect? I can’t get my message across any other way. I will not go back to Fairhaven. That’s not where I was going. I’d never turn you in. Never. You’ll have to tie me up and drag me.”

“That’s precisely what I’m fixing to do, because I ain’t letting you help rob that bank and I ain’t letting that half-crazed partner of mine hurt you. You can turn me in if you want, it’s all I can see to do. Why did I ever come when you beckoned me? My life’s been nothing but trouble ever since.”

“How’s this for trouble?” Without further warning, she came up off the ground, literally crawled his frame and punched him right in the nose.

An awkward punch, it was, but it hurt like hell and brought tears to his eyes. He staggered backward a step or two.

She howled, cradled her fist and took off in a crazy stiff-legged run, him right on her heels, throbbing nose cupped in one hand. If Baron didn’t wake up now, it would be a danged miracle.

He chased her half a mile or more before bringing her down, right in the middle of the tall red prairie grasses. Out there in the dark, stars winking in a black sky, nothing between them and the horizon but more grass, and he had a wildcat in his arms. A wildcat who hissed, bit and scratched, then went all soft and clingy.

Against his chest her heart pounded, her breath came hot and fast at his throat, her magnificent hair like a flaming silken curtain over them both. His arms enclosed her and she fit against him like they’d been cut from the same cloth in some distant past and only now found their way back to each other. Where they each belonged.

“Dear God in Heaven,” he whispered, breathing the words into the heat of her.

“I am thinking the very same thing,” she said, and found his mouth with hers.

Tears trickled from under his lids, left slow warm trails to where their lips met. He hadn’t cried since learning his mother had died ten years ago. That was from a heart wrenching grief. This was gratitude, awe, delight. Happiness.

He tested the word, kissed her some more. Her arms tightened about his neck and she slipped one knee between his legs. Lying there in the grass that swished in the wind, they held on to each other. Hard to tell which one clung the tightest. He figured he did, but she had one hell of a hold on him.

It was a long time, an eternity, a split second, he knew not which, before she spoke. He’d’ve been content to not say a word, ever again. Just hold on and ride the wave of passion. But women did have to talk. He knew that.

“What are we going to do?”

It would be foolish to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “I don’t know, we’ll figure something out.”

“I hope so. I’ve never felt like this in my entire life, and I don’t want it to go away. So think of something quick. Figure something out?”

He sensed her lips twitching into a grin against his cheek.

“You have to admit, it’s a real problem we’ve got here,” he whispered. “No matter what we do, it could be wrong.”

“Or it could be right.”

“Yes, that too. First thing, we’ve got to get you away from Baron and his idea of you helping us rob that bank.”

“How?”

“Well, I was gonna hogtie you and take you back to Fairhaven out of his reach, but I reckon that’s out of the question now.”

“That was out of the question all along.” She nibbled at his ear. “What about Rachel and her kids? We’ve got to help them. How can we do that without robbing the bank?”

“Might as well ask how to rope that moon coming up yonder,” he replied.

“Oh, look, isn’t it beautiful?”

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned back a ways and gazed into her lovely face. What the hell were they going to do?

Chapter Fourteen

Nestled in the prairie grasses Wilda slept in his arms until dawn, awoke to find him studying her with those remarkable eyes that spoke to her of a wild spirit barely contained. It made her want to ride with him on the wind, all cares forgotten. He smiled, fingered a strand of hair from her face and kissed her lightly on the tip of the nose. Contentment was the only way to describe the feelings that washed through her.

“Good morning. You look beautiful when you sleep. I have something for you.” He opened his hand to reveal a curl of golden chain and a tiny cross nested there.

“Oh, Calder. Mama’s cross. Thank you so much.” She touched it with a finger.

“Turn, lift your hair and I’ll put it on for you.”

She did, breathed a sigh of wonder and delight when he fumbled the clasp shut and the cross rested between her breasts. Speechless, for he could not have done anything finer for her than this, she leaned back into his caress. He laughed, ran both thumbs down over her nipples.

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