The Nothing but Trouble Bride Sable Grey (c) 2005
The Nothing but Trouble Bride Sable Grey Published 2005 ISBN 1-59578-159-5 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2005, Sable Grey. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://lsbooks.com Email:
[email protected] Editor Corina Calsing Cover Art by April Martinez This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Dedication: To any woman who’s ever been struck by someone she loves. Though you can’t kill them, you can find happiness after an abusive relationship.
Chapter 1 Sheriff John Cahill stared down at Charles Olson’s bloodied bandage. The bastard was just too mean to die. John glanced back at Margaret, who stood at the door in silence. He exhaled loudly and turned, walking back to the thin woman. “Where is she, Maggie?” he asked quietly as the physician pulled the bandage tighter, causing Charlie to shout with pain. “I don’t know.” She was lying. Maggie Campbell couldn’t lie worth a damn. The truth was written all over her pretty face. John shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “She wouldn’t just leave town and not tell anybody where she was going,” John pressed. Maggie’s pink bottom lip poked out a bit. “She might if she thought she’d killed a man.” Maggie’s gaze remained on Charlie. There was unmistakable hatred reflected in those blue depths. John didn’t like it. Maggie was a sweet natured woman. She didn’t wear hatred well. “Maggie, look at me,” John commanded and finally her lashes lifted. “She didn’t kill him. She can’t be hung, but I need her here to testify what drove her to assault him.” “Assault? John Cahill, you know very well who did the assaulting in this situation. It wouldn’t be the first time he struck her!” Maggie snapped. “She’s gone. He can’t hurt her anymore, and if you were any kind of man, you would make sure that wound reached his heart tonight when he slept. I would do it myself if I were a man.” Her hands shook with anger. John glanced over his shoulder, noticing that the doctor had turned his head to listen to them. He reached forward, grasped Maggie’s arm and guided her from the bedroom. Maggie didn’t resist; she trotted along beside him until they were downstairs and outside St. Louis motel where Charles' lived. “You listen here. When that man wakes up, he will want to find his wife. I know Charles Olson, and I know whatever he did before will not compare to what he does when he finds her. If I get to her first, I can promise he won’t lay a finger on her. But I can’t protect her if you keep filling me with lies.” He released her arm. “I know you want to protect your sister. I don’t blame you, but how are you going protect her when he finds her?” Maggie bit her lip, her gaze darting down to the road. “You promise me, John. She did nothing wrong, and I won’t stand for her spending even one night in jail.” John softened. He always did when it came to Maggie. Ever since they were children, he’d had a soft spot for her. She was so gentle and kind, nothing like her sister. Vi would buck up, fight with him, and dig her heels in until he wanted to box her ears himself, but not Maggie. “I give you my word,” he said softly. Maggie sighed heavily. “There is a man in Wyoming. I’ve been writing to him for several months. We were … going to be married. He sent money for me to…” “A man?” John took a step back as thick jealousy forked into his veins. “What man?”
“A very kind man. He and his brother are starting a horse ranch there. He sent me money to go join him, so we could be married.” Maggie didn’t look at him. “But then Vi came to me soaked with Charlie’s blood. She said she killed him.” “You were going to marry this man in Wyoming?” John interrupted. “He seemed a good man, John.” Her blue eyes lifted to his face. “Fine and decent. I thought Vi would be safe there. So I sent her in my stead.” John turned his back to her, fisting his fingers in front of him. Some man had been writing to Maggie … his Maggie. His blood pounded. It served him right. He’d never even asked to call on the woman. How could she know the house he was building was to be hers? He’d chased away every man that had tried to court her. She was probably lonely. “John?” At Maggie’s voice, he forced himself to relax and face her again. “You don’t have to go to Wyoming to find a decent man,” John told her. “Humph! What do you know of it, John? You haven’t noticed, but I’ve not had a man knock on my door for some time. I’ll be an old maid if I don’t start looking for someone.” She tossed her hair. John stepped forward. “I know that I would kill any man that did knock on your door. You know I would.” “You are too protective, John. You always have been. I’m not a child anymore. I don’t need you to beat up the boys in the schoolyard for me. I’m a woman grown, and I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I want a husband and a family.” “You don’t even know this man in Wyoming. Why would you go there? What if he’d lied in his letters? What if he were no better than that one lying half dead in there?” John took two steps forward so that he stood right in front of her. “I’d kill…” “Then why don’t you kill that one? He doesn’t deserve to live after the way he’s treated my sister,” Maggie interrupted. “If you love us so, and are set upon protecting us, why do you let that … that … bastard … live?” Her blue eyes filled with tears. “I don’t like hearing you talk like this, of death and killing. It’s not your nature.” John pushed his hat back on his head and swiped his brow. “She’s your sister, Maggie, but you are two very different women.” “Not so different that we wouldn’t both wish that man dead,” she argued. “What’s right is right, John, and he’s not right. Look where he has her living!” She turned and motioned towards the hotel they’d just stepped from. “He gambles away his money and leaves her to scrub floors and do laundry just to keep them out of the cold. He spends most nights at Gable’s Inn with those prostitutes. And when he is home, he misuses her.” John’s jaw tightened. “I know.” “Then why do you hesitate?” Maggie reached forward, grasping his arm. “Why do you allow it to continue?” “I’ve beaten that man within an inch of his life more times than I can count.” He touched her cheek, noting the surprise that crossed her face. “I tried to do what I could, but I can’t just kill a man for being a bastard.” “I … I didn’t know.” “Neither did she.” He let his finger linger against her skin. “I would hang before I would do nothing to help her. She needn’t flee to Wyoming and neither need you.” “Our reasons for wanting to go are different.” When Maggie’s hands fell from his arm, he removed his hand and shoved them in his pockets.
“Who’s the man?” “Ben Bullock.” Maggie covered her face. “I’m so ashamed. I sent her in my place. He will be devastated, and I’m certain he won’t want to marry me once he finds out he’s married to the wrong woman.” John didn’t tell her that was the only blessing that would come out of this mess. “It’s alright, Maggie. I’ll go there and bring her back, kicking and screaming if I have too.” “I’m going with you.” Maggie dropped her hands from her face. “I’ll explain to Ben what happened. He may not marry me but he might forgive me for the deception.” “Its best if you stay here.” “I will not. If I do, I may take a knife to Charlie Olson myself. And Vi will be less apt to fight you if I am there.” Maggie held up her hand. “She and I may different women but we have much in common too. I can dig my heels in too. I’m going.” John stared at her, then slowly nodded. How could he deny her anything she wanted? He never had, and he wasn’t going to start now. **** “You aren’t in any shape to travel, Charlie.” Two weeks later, Charles Olson stood, leaning his weight on a cane in front of the stage, glaring at Maggie. “We’ll see what the sheriff says.” Maggie wished to take it from him and beat him with it. Instead, she turned her back and waited in silence for John Cahill to arrive. Her stomach knotted at the thought of spending the next several days with him in a cramped space, but she wasn’t going to let him go alone. She’d wanted to tell him two weeks ago that he was the reason she’d agreed to marry Ben Bullock. She was tired of waiting for the sheriff to realize she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was tired of loving a man who would never return the affection. And Ben Bullock was a good second choice. When her gaze found him making his way towards her across the street, she knew she’d have never gone through with the wedding. Her heart quickened at the sight of him. Tall, lean, solid, his blond hair, much in need of a cut, peeked out from the hat that shielded his blue eyes from the sun that had already darkened his skin. Her gaze lowered over his wide shoulders and chest, down his narrow hips, to his long legs. “Is this everything you own?” His soft voice brought her attention to his face, then to the bags she’d set at her side. “Of course not.” She shook her head. “I’m only bringing the necessities.” “Four bags of necessities?” He shook his head, then glanced at Charlie. “Absolutely not.” Maggie smiled smugly. “I have a right.” “I won’t repeat myself. You will stay here and wait for me to come back with her. I’ll stab you myself if you climb into this stage.” John opened the stagecoach door, placed his hands on Maggie’s waist and lifted her so she could duck inside. She sat down quickly and leaned forward to watch them from the window. “I’m her husband,” Charlie growled. “Not enough of one,” John snapped. “You stay here.” “Fine.” Charlie turned, swore under his breath, and then faced John again, watching him haul Maggie’s bags up to the driver atop the stage. “How long will you be gone.”
“It’ll take us about a month and a half to get to Centennial. A month and a half back.” John heaved the last bag overhead. “Three months.” “Three months.” Charlie crossed his arms. “You’ll make her answer for what she’s done?” “I’ll do my job.” John opened the carriage door as another passenger approached. Maggie watched him climb inside and sit across from her. She offered him a smile, then scooted across the seat so John could climb in beside her. “You just stay put.” John tossed out the window after he pulled the door closed. Five minutes later the stage jerked forward Charlie watched it roll away with a frown. Damn them. He glanced around him. No way was he going to sit and wait when Vi was out there. John Cahill wouldn’t do anything, and he wanted her to pay for what she’d done. His gaze darted to the mail stage across the street. **** “Do you mind?” The man across from them stared down at John’s feet, propped lazily at his side. “Have you no manners, John Cahill?” Maggie reached forward and slapped at his boots, but he didn’t move them. “We are going to be in this stage for a month and a half.” He laced his fingers behind his head. “We might as well make ourselves comfortable.” “We can be comfortable without forgetting that it isn’t proper to put our feet on the seats,” she argued. “I don’t want to spend the entire trip looking at whatever you dragged in on the heel of your boot.” The man across from her nodded in agreement. “Stop nagging.” He grinned when she slapped at his legs again. “Be nice to me. Vi is going to give me enough trouble. I don’t need to be badgered on the way to get her.” “Badgering!” She sniffed. “I won’t be nice to a man that carries on like a vagabond, sprawling out like this wherever his hat comes off.” John closed his eyes, and tilted his head back. “Vagabonds can’t afford hats.” He laughed when she hit his legs again. Maggie didn’t really care. He could prop his feet on her lap if he wanted. She just liked to hear his laugh, to see his lopsided boyish smile. She feigned disdain, then offered the man across from her an apologetic smile. “Forgive him. He was raised by dogs.” Maggie didn’t look at John when he grunted. “I’m Margaret Campbell. We are going to Wyoming.” “Ellis Stein.” The man introduced himself. “I’ll only be traveling a couple of weeks with you. I’m on my way to Denver.” “How very nice for you,” Maggie offered. “Indeed. My brother wrote to me and assured me that Denver is far more sophisticated than St. Louis.” Ellis glanced at John before continuing. “I plan to settle there.” “It sounds very exciting.” Maggie was grateful when Ellis said nothing else and a comfortable silence filled the stage.
Chapter 2 Clouds of dust swirled up with every step that Vi took. She’d walked for hours, and her arm burned from dragging the large suitcase behind her. She was thankful that she’d worn trousers rather than layered skirts, for the sun’s heat was unforgivable. Maggie had assured her that Bullock was a fine, decent man. Vi had read his letters to her sister herself, but what kind of man would send for the woman he was to marry and not meet her in town? It had been her sister’s idea that Vi come in her stead. Maggie had insisted it was the only thing to do until the trouble cleared. Vi wasn’t as hopeful. Her husband was dead, and it was her own hand that plunged the blade into his chest. Pain and disgust twisted in her stomach. She hadn’t really meant to kill him. Not really. She’d just wanted him to stop hitting her. She pushed away the memory; she didn’t want to think too long on it. It had all happened so fast. Her sister had told her to run. She’d given her the stage fare that Bullock had sent to her and told her to go to Wyoming. So here she was, feeling as if she were melting beneath the miserable sun on a road that had no end. Perspiration rolled down her temple and neck, and dampened the skin between her breasts. She’d drunk the last of the water she’d brought with her, and now her mouth was dry and her tongue, thick. Ahead, two shadows rose from the dusty road, like great horns from a devil that lived in this heat. She wiped her brow and took another unsteady step. Lightheadedness swayed her, and when she gave the suitcase a tug over a deep rut, she went sprawling, head first, into the dirt. Thunder rumbled so Vi forced herself to roll to her back. Rain would revive her, she thought, as darkness clouded around her. She forced her lids open again and stared at the blue sky. No clouds, she thought hazily. Suddenly a shadow moved, blocked out the sun and neared. Her lids felt heavy, but she fought against the dizziness that threatened her. It was a man, solid as the ground she lay on, with hard features and steel blue eyes that peeked out from under the brim of an ivory Stetson. Her lids dipped. * Matt Bullock stared down at the woman sprawled in the middle of the road. He’d seen her from a distance and, because of the trousers and leather hat, had thought she was a boy. Now, up close, he didn’t know how he could make that mistake. Long legs, hugged tightly by the trousers, a woman’s blouse, tapered at the waist to fit against her slim figure. The buttons had been released at the top so it fell open to reveal the swell of her breasts. Auburn hair, rust highlighted with gold, hung out from beneath the worn leather hat. Delicate, feminine features with a full mouth settled in her sun kissed complexion. What in tarnation was a woman doing this far out from town, and on the road to his ranch? “Is she dead?” Hank asked from behind him.
“She’s breathing.” Matt’s gaze dragged from the rise and fall of her breast to her suitcase. “Well, who in hell is she?” “Trouble,” Matt murmured, then glanced over his shoulder, without rising. “Toss me your canteen.” Hank moved quickly and tossed the round container down to him. Slipping a hand behind her head, Matt lifted her up, unscrewed the cap with his teeth, and then tipped the rim to her lips. At first, there was no movement, then her lips parted, and her throat began to work around the water. Matt watched her pink tongue slide out to lick her lips when he moved the canteen away. Her lashes fluttered, then opened, revealing a pair of chocolate brown eyes. “Am I dead?” she whispered staring up at him. “It appears not.” He urged her to sit up and handed her the canteen, then watched her drink thirstily. “Are you Bullock?” she asked after she drank several swallows. “That’s the rumor.” Matt inclined his head. In the next moment, his throat closed as she sent him a breathtaking smile, revealing her perfect, white teeth. Unconscious, she’d appeared serene despite her attire. Awake, she was stunning. He cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “And who are you?” “I’m Margaret Campbell.” She took another drink from the canteen as she stood, then passed the water back to him. “I had no money, after I paid for the stage, to have someone bring me here from Centennial. It was stupid of me to walk.” “Yes,” Matt agreed. “But I’m here now. That is all that matters.” She continued to smile. “And exactly why are you here?” Her smile faded and she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You … you sent for me. I’m to be your wife.” Behind him, Hank laughed abruptly. Matt nearly smiled himself. “You are mistaken, ma’am. I’ve not sent for any woman. This is a cattle ranch. Not much place for skirts and tea parties.” “But … you wrote me,” the woman argued. “Might be a bit delusional on account of the sun,” Hank suggested. “I am not delusional.” She lifted her chin, turned on her heel and stamped to her suitcase. Plopping down in front of it, she loosened the buckles. As she began to rummage through her belongings, Matt’s attention dropped to the undergarments she piled in her lap. One in particular, a red, silken thing, caught his eye. “I have letters to prove it.” She retrieved what she was looking for and tossed the clothes back into the suitcase. Matt’s gaze remained on that red silk until she rose and thrust the papers towards him. Matt stared at her evenly for several moments before accepting the letters. When he looked down, the muscles of his chest constricted. It was Ben’s handwriting. Raw pain tore through him, but he forced himself to read the words. “You addressed me as Maggie. I prefer Vi,” she told him as he read. Matt nodded though he barely heard her. Ben had sent for this woman, to make her his bride. Matt hadn’t even known about it.
“You’ve come a long way, Miss Campbell. I’m sorry you did that.” Matt folded the letters and handed them back to her. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go on back home, though…” “Is it because of my clothes?” she interrupted, voice filling with desperation as she reached for his arm. “I have dresses. I just wore these trousers because I had to walk. I’ve got several dresses. Pretty ones. And my hair looks better when it’s washed.” “I’m sure it does, ma’am,” Matt said. “But…” “You wrote that this is a new ranch. You must need as much help as you can get. I learn quickly. I can earn my keep.” She moved even closer, and Matt stiffened as her feminine scent mixed with the salty perspiration that had collected around her hairline drifted up to tickle at his senses. This close, he had a clear view down her blouse. Something lacy peeked back at him. Good lord, what had his brother been thinking? “I can cook and sew and am not afraid of hard work. And I don’t mind doing … other things.” Her voice dropped slightly and Matt’s brow rose. Had she just tried to tempt him? His gaze swept again down to her exposed cleavage. “Is that so?” Matt didn’t look back at Hank when he cleared his throat in attempt to muffle a chuckle. She licked her lips. Good God, that mouth, in itself, was tempting. Matt nearly bent forward to kiss her. “I’m gonna ride on back to the house, boss,” Hank said, but Matt remained where he was and listened to Hank’s horse trot away from them. “What I would like…” Matt drawled in a low voice, and her eyes glittered slightly. “Yes?” She smiled, seeming to think he already had a request. “What do you want?” She lifted a hand to his arm, and his gaze dropped to her fingers. “To know why my brother would send for a woman who is nothing like the kind of women he would be interested in.” Matt arched a brow when he looked back to her face. He saw the shock wash over her expression, and she jumped back from him, leaving his body cold. “Your … your brother? You aren’t Ben Bullock?” “Matt Bullock.” He touched the rim of his hat. Vi’s cheeks burned brightly. “I thought … oh … you won’t tell him that I … that I was…” “Ben is dead,” Matt interrupted. “Two months ago. He didn’t mention any woman to me. I’m sorry you made this long trip, Miss Campbell.” “He’s … dead?” she repeated. Matt sighed. His brother had exchanged letters with this woman. He’d invited her to their home, and she’d come. She deserved more of an explanation. “He was shot when he caught some of Fuller’s men trying to steal some of our horses.” “But … I was supposed to come here, to stay here. I’ve … I’ve sold everything I own except what’s in that suitcase.” Vi jerked her head towards the tattered piece of luggage. “I’ve nowhere else to go. He can’t be dead. He just can’t be.” “Had I known about you, I would have sent a telegram to save you the trip,” Matt offered, feeling sorry for the woman. “You don’t have any family?” She shook her head. “Not anyone that I can go to. Even if I did, I’ve no money to get there.” She stepped back and sat down in the road, staring at the ground. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I was counting on this.”
“I’d offer to give you money, ma’am, but every last dollar I have is tied up in this ranch,” Matt told her. He could offer her a place to stay, but it was a bad idea, and he knew it. “I’m sorry about your brother.” Her voice brought his gaze back to her face. Her eyes reflected sincerity. “The men that killed him … they were brought to justice?” Matt’s jaw clenched. “No.” “Why not?” She stared at him. “Because the only person who witnessed it was also shot, and he died two days later. My word against theirs.” Matt fisted his hand, and then released it. “When I saw you out here, I thought it was one of Fuller’s tricks, but that was Ben’s handwriting in your letters. I’d recognize his chicken scratch anywhere.” She ran a hand over her forehead and blew out a breath. “Would you mind if I filled my canteen before I started out again?” “No, ma’am.” He reached for the reins of his horse. “I’ll take you up to the house. There’s a pump there.” “I’d appreciate that.” She looked down at her suitcase. “I’ll just leave this here. It’s been more trouble than it’s worth.” She closed it, tightened the buckles, and tossed it to the side of the road with a soft grunt. “Nobody comes down this road. It’ll be there when you come back,” Matt offered and held out his hand to help her onto his horse. Her warm fingers slipped into his. With her free hand, she reached up and grabbed a hold of the horn, stuck her foot in the stirrup, and tried to pull herself up onto the animal. It was all he could do not to laugh when she fell back into his chest. “Damnation!” Matt blinked, surprised to hear a woman curse, even under her breath, like that. “Never ridden before?” “No,” she admitted regaining her footing and facing him. Again, Matt found her too close. He reached forward and grasped her around the waist, felt the quick hitch in her breath, and lifted her easily to the saddle. She leaned forward giving him room to swing up behind her rather than in front. The moment she leaned back against him, he wished he’d chosen to walk instead. She had swung her leg over the horse, then slid back so that her legs pressed against the inside of his thighs, and her ass fit snuggly between his legs. When she removed her hat, he reached around her, unwound the reins from the horn, accidentally grazing his knuckles against her sex. She gasped, and he saw the suspicious slant of her gaze at him before he straightened. “You said I wasn’t the kind of woman your brother liked,” she spoke after he kicked the horse forward. “You’re not.” “What about you? Are you married?” she asked, turning her head slightly so he could view her profile. “No.” She shifted so she could look up at his face and, in doing so, pressed her soft backside against him more firmly. “No? Do you want to be?”
Matt did laugh this time, and she smiled. “No, I do not.” He continued when he was able to wipe his smile away. “You would do that? Marry someone else you don’t even know?” “I might if he were handsome enough.” She cut her eyes up at him slyly. “You don’t know what my brother looked like, yet you were going to marry him,” Matt countered. She gave up her teasing and sighed softly. “He seemed a fine, decent man from his letters.” “He was.” Matt nodded. “I might have made him unhappy.” Vi faced forward again. “I don’t always behave as a lady should.” Matt’s lips twisted. He’d seen enough to know that was true. He tried to imagine how Ben would have reacted if it had been him she’d tried to tempt. His grin widened. Most likely, his brother would have turned three shades of red and ran away from her as fast as he could. He wouldn’t have known what to do with her. Matt, however, could think of a number of things—none of which required a ride back to the ranch. “He shouldn’t have asked you to come out here in the first place. We just bought this place a year ago. Wouldn’t be right cramping you up with seven men.” Matt looked out at the land that stretched around them. “Nobody out here, miles from town. Nothing to keep a woman happy.” “If you aren’t married, how would you know what would keep a woman happy?” she asked pointedly. “Women want fancy dresses and expensive things.” Matt frowned when she made a sound of disbelief. “Yes, women want expensive things like silver, china, and maybe a silk something. But it was you and your brother that bought this enormous ranch.” She tilted her head back so she could smile teasingly up at him. Again, Matt felt tempted to kiss her. “A ranch is something that has to be worked at.” “And you think looking like a lady is not?” She snorted softly. “I’d like to see you try to squeeze yourself into a corset and then talk about work.” Matt stared at the top of her head when she looked forward again. “And what would you know of a corset?” Matt asked in a low voice. It was meant to hint to her that her blouse was exposing more to him than she probably wanted. “Enough to know I won’t wear one.” She chuckled softly. Matt grinned at the back of her head. Damn, but he liked her. “I was just teasing, you know. About buying a ranch. There is honest money to be made in your line of work, especially now that more people are moving into the territory.” “You can’t ride but know about ranching?” Matt suppressed a groan when she shifted against him again. “I heard some men talking about it on the stage,” she shrugged. “Ben had written about the ranch so I listened while they were talking. I didn’t think it would hurt to learn as much as I could about the life I was coming to.” She faced forward again and leaned back slightly. It had been a good year since Matt had had a woman’s body against him; none of the ranch-hands had. It was no wonder that Ben had sent for her. Now, he cursed him for doing it. She felt too good.
He did groan when she shifted again. “For God’s sake, sit still,” he snapped causing her to turn and look up at him. “I’m not used to riding,” she defended. “And I’m not used to sharing my horse with a woman,” he countered. For a moment, she just stared at him. Then her eyes widened slightly and a little curl found her lips before she faced forward quickly. “I would offer to walk but my legs feel like they would fall off if I did. It was a long way from the coach.” She shifted, and Matt knew it had been purposely when she turned her head and cut her eyes back at him. Matt couldn’t be sure if she was a temptress or an innocent who just enjoyed a man’s reaction. She’d tried to tempt him, hinted that she would do other things. Virgins didn’t often make an offer like that. But she had been desperate, he amended. “How old are you?” He forced himself to speak around his dry throat. “Twenty-seven.” “Bit old to be just getting married.” He felt her stiffen. “I’m not too old,” she argued. “And you are older than I am with no wife. I would imagine you are not looking for one anytime soon with the way you carried on about silly tea parties.” “I didn’t carry on.” “I’ve decided I want to walk after all,” she snapped and moved as if she were going to dismount. Matt’s hand caught her waist as he pulled at the reins. She twisted in the saddle to glare at him. “It’s true I’m not as young as most new brides, but I’d be a good woman to a man worth being good to.” Her eyes flashed angrily. “I didn’t mean to offend you, ma’am. I was just curious about the woman my brother wanted to marry.” Her hip was soft when he let his fingers slide from her waist. “You can walk if you like, but it is still a ways.” She glanced up the road, then pressed her lips. “Fine.” She turned in the saddle, rolling her hips back against him as she did. “Do that again and I’ll…” “What?” she asked in an innocent voice. “What did I do?” There was a hint of laughter in the last word. His fingers tightened on her hips, and he leaned forward so that he spoke in her ear. “You know damn well what.” A soft chuckle drifted from her lips, and she turned her head again, so that her breath caressed his chin. “Don’t be mean to me, and I won’t be mean to you, Matt Bullock.” She faced forward again but did not fidget any more. Matt had never been so grateful to see the wooden gate of his ranch. He gave the horse a little nudged, trotted him in front of the house, and then quickly swung down from the horse. He turned when she swung a leg over the animal and waited for him to help her. Carefully, he grasped her waist and lowered her to the ground. He watched her slip the canteen strap from her shoulder when she spotted the pump and move forward quickly. Once it was filled, she tightened the cap and faced him again. “I thank you, Mister Bullock and again, I’m sorry about your brother.” She started back towards the gate.
“You are going to walk back now?” Matt crossed his arms as she halted and turned to look over her shoulder. “You don’t want me.” She shrugged. The hell he didn’t. “I can feed you before you go, and you can stay the night. I’ll have one of the others take you back to Centennial in the morning.” His attention dropped to her mouth when she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She seemed to think it over, then nodded. “That’s very generous of you. I admit, my legs are going to be hurting from the walking I’ve already done today.” She flashed a pretty smile. “But I’ll need to retrieve my suitcase…” “Hank.” Matt turned and found every one of the ranch hands standing behind him. Hank stepped forward immediately. “Ride out and fetch her suitcase. She left it to the side of the road where we found her.” Hank nodded and grasped the reins of Matt’s horse. “The rest of you can quit gawking and roll your tongues back in your mouth.” He raised his voice slightly. “There’s work to be done.” From behind him, he heard a light laugh, but the men all went on back to their work. When he faced her again, she was smiling. “I imagine they get lonely out here with no women,” she offered. “Women would only cause trouble right now. Once the ranch is making money, those that are inclined can build houses on the spread for any settling down they might want to do.” He motioned towards the door of the house. “Come on in.” He waited for her to incline her head before leading her inside. “It’s tidy.” She spoke once in the front room, looking around with a surprised expression. “I imagined with seven men that it would have been in shambles.” “Hank keeps the place pretty clean. The others sleep in the bunkhouse out behind the stables.” Matt nodded towards a door across the room. “There’s not but two bedrooms. You can take Ben’s for the night. We sup at seven, all of us together, in the kitchen.” “Do you think it would be possible form me to take a bath?” she asked. “We’ve got a tub we all use.” Matt nodded and saw the look of relief. Did she think they just washed off at the pump? Reluctantly, he opened the door to Ben’s bedroom and waited for her to enter, then followed. Pain and anger filled his chest. He’d not set foot in this room since his brother’s death. He hadn’t wanted to now but had nowhere else to put the woman. “It’s a little dusty.” He strode across the small bedroom and jerked open the window so some fresh air could breeze in. “Better than lying unconscious in the middle of a road all night,” she told him. “I’m easy to please. You could give me a blanket in the corner on the floor, and I would sleep soundly.” Matt smiled at that. “Well, I’ll fetch the tub for you.” Vi watched him disappear through the door and then blew out a breath. So, she had a night to convince him to let her stay. It was a chance, at least, more than she had an hour ago when he told her that Ben was dead. Maggie was going to be devastated when she learned that the man she’d come to care for through his letters was gone. She would send a telegram from Centennial as soon as she was certain Matt Bullock would allow her to stay on at the ranch.
Vi stole a glance into the broken mirror on the wall as Matt brought in a large tin tub. She grimaced. It was a wonder he hadn’t left her on the side of the road. She looked a mess! “George is heating up the water for your bath,” he told her as she reached over to touch the coat that hung on a peg on the wall. “Was this Ben’s?” she asked curiously. “Yes.” “Well, he was built as much like a bull as you are.” She let her fingers fall away from the garment and faced him. He shifted and looked as if he would step towards her, then turned abruptly and walked from the room again. She sat down on the bed and bent down to pull off her boots. Her feet throbbed from the miles she’d covered. She rubbed at her arches, smiling at the relief as her fingers pressed. Matt Bullock’s large hands had been firm but gentle when he’d lifted her to and from the horse. He’d accidentally touched her sex, and the fire that had flamed from that momentary touch had flushed her body. She couldn’t seduce one of the others. They would try to pass her around among them, but if she seduced Matt Bullock into allowing her to stay, the others wouldn’t dare touch her. She deduced that just from their reaction to him and how quickly Hank had hurried to do as Matt wanted. If she could seduce him. He was obviously an honorable man , or he’d not have told her that he wasn’t Ben Bullock when she’d thrown herself at him. He’d have tried to take advantage of her. No, she would have to work at it, and she only had one night in which to do it. She continued to rub her feet until the door opened and Matt and another man filed inside, each carrying two large wooden buckets of steaming water. They emptied them into the tub and stepped out again, then returned with four more buckets. “Get on back outside now, George,” Matt instructed the man quietly before facing Vi. “Take all the time you need.” He walked across the room and pulled the curtains over the window. She stood quickly, ignoring the prickling pain in her sore feet. “I don’t know how to thank you for your generosity, Mister Bullock. It’s much appreciated.” She reached for his hands when he turned. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and inclined his head before stepping around her. When he left the room, he pulled the door closed gently behind him. Vi looked down at the tub. He’d placed a small bar of soap on the floor. She began to unbutton her shirt but stopped when a heavy rap sounded on the door. “Ma’am, Hank brought your suitcase. Want me to leave it outside the door?” She finished unbuttoning her shirt quickly, then grasped it together at the bottom, making sure she revealed a bit more than she should, then hurried to open the door. “You can bring it in,” she said and stepped aside. He stepped forward and she saw his quick glance down at the front of her clothes. He didn’t look again, however, when he delivered the suitcase to the bed and turned. Instead, he touched the rim of his hat and stepped from the room, again closing the door behind him. That’s okay. She would give him something to look at once she was clean. She already knew it would be the burgundy dress she would wear. For once, she was happy
that Maggie had talked her into buying the silly thing. It was an impractical dress, and fit too tightly around her waist, practically pushing her breasts into full view. And the skirts were heavy velvet, but she remembered how her husband had looked at her when he’d first seen her in it. He’d not gone out to the tables that night to fill himself with liquor and whores. He’d stayed at home with her. She only prayed it had the same effect on Matt Bullock.
Chapter 3 “She ain’t come out yet?” Hank asked in a low voice. “No.” Matt shook his head. The others had come in, eaten, and, after an hour of waiting around, gave up on catching a glimpse of the woman again. Now, only Hank and Crowe remained. “You still gonna send her away?” Hank continued. “Yes.” Matt rose and cleared away his bowl. “There’s no reason for her to stay.” “I can think of two good reasons,” Crowe murmured, and Hank’s rattling laugh bounced off the walls. “Only two? I can think of a mite more than that,” Hank guffawed. “Both of you can keep your cocks out of that henhouse. She’s trouble. I can smell it on her,” Matt growled over his shoulder, then returned to the table. The moment the door opened, and Matt looked up, he knew it had been a mistake allowing Maggie Campbell to stay at his ranch even one night. Her auburn hair hung loose around her sun-darkened face, and she wore a fitted dress that dipped off her shoulders and showed off more curves than Matt had thought she had. His entire body went rigid. “I’m so sorry. Did I miss supper? I fell asleep in the bath.” She hurried forward, each step swaying her hips. “There’s some stew left.” Matt rose from his place and moved to fill her a bowl. “Good evening.” When Matt looked back at her, she was smiling at Hank and Crowe. Both murmured a response, and Matt nearly laughed at the way their demeanor had changed. They suddenly appeared uncertain of themselves and a little shy. “Go on and sit down,” he said as he turned and set the bowl in front of a chair. When she stepped forward, he pulled the chair out and waited for her to sit. As she passed him, his body hardened. She smelled like something sweet, powdered and perfumed. His gaze dipped to her cleavage before he retreated to his own chair. She began eating hungrily, and Matt winced. She’d probably had nothing since that morning. He should have offered her something before she took her bath. No one said a word until she finally pushed the bowl away from her and patted her stomach with a smile. “Any more, and I will pop.” Matt reached over to take the bowl, but her hand fell atop his, causing him to grow still. “Don’t bother. I can clean up after myself.” She rose, allowing her fingertips to drag across his knuckles before her hand left his. “Well, it’s late. We should get to bed,” Hank said, nudging Crowe. Matt shot daggers at the men when they grinned. “Good night,” Vi called without looking back at them. “Night, ma’am,” Hank answered, and then nearly dragged Crowe out the front door. Matt heaved out a breath. That was the second time Hank had purposely left him alone with the woman. He turned and looked back at her. Damn, she was pretty. His attention dropped to her hands as she dipped the dish into the basin of soapy water. “I admire you for trying, but that dress isn’t going to make me change my mind
about you staying on here.” It was best to go ahead and broach the subject, get it out of the way. Her hands stilled momentarily, then she reached for the hand towel and quickly dried the bowl. “You don’t like my dress?” When she sat the bowl aside and faced him, his gaze swept down the length of her. He liked it just fine. He’d like it better if it was lying on the floor across the room. “I’m sure you are a good woman…” Matt began as he stood but she tossed the hand towel aside and moved forward, until she stood directly in front of him. “I don’t always behave properly, but I would have been whatever could make your brother happy. I came here not knowing what to expect, and when you said your name was Bullock, I admit I was surprised and relieved.” She lowered her lashes momentarily. “I know you must think I am wicked for the way I … I threw myself at you, and again when we rode the horse. I wouldn’t have been unfaithful to Ben.” Matt stared down at her when she bowed her head. Good Lord, she thought he pegged her as a whore, and suspected that was the reason he was sending her away. “Miss Campbell, there are seven other men besides myself who call this place their home. A woman would only bring trouble. Probably sooner than later, one of 'em would get it in his head to chase after you. I can’t have that if I want this ranch to survive.” “But if they thought I was your woman…” Her eyes were large when they gazed up at him. “Mine?” Matt stared at her. That was a dangerous word. She didn’t know how dangerous. “They respect you. I could see that before. They wouldn’t dare try anything with your woman. They might be envious because they don’t have women, but it wouldn’t change their routines.” She reached forward and grasped his arms, just above his wrists. “Please, don’t make me beg you, Mister Bullock. I’ve nowhere to go. You are the only person that can help me.” Matt shook his head, but she spoke again quickly before he had the chance. “Damnation, I’ll do anything you ask of me. I’ll wash, I’ll mend, I’ll water the horses. I’m not afraid of getting dirty or work. I…” “Don’t mind doing other things?” Matt finished, echoing the words she’d spoken when she’d first thought he was Ben. Her cheeks flamed to life. “If that will give me a way to stay, then yes.” She closed the bit of distance between them, so that she pressed against him. “I am no whore, but I need a place to live.” Matt swallowed. His chest tightened, and his breathing deepened when she rose on her toes and leaned into him to whisper next to his ear. “I’ll do anything to stay. I’m a desperate woman.” “Anything encompasses a lot of things.” He heard himself saying. “What do you want?” She leaned away and looked at him as if he were going to ask something unthinkable of her. Matt fought the grin that tempted his lips. “You are not the kind of woman my brother would have married.” He said in a low voice and nearly grabbed her when her bottom lip poked out. “You would have scared the hell out of him.” “You don’t look afraid of me,” she argued. “I’m not my brother.” Matt wished she would step away from him.
“Couldn’t we make some kind of temporary arrangement? Then you could see that it isn’t terrible having me around.” She bit her lip and leaned forward again. “I could be very accommodating.” “You are trying to seduce me into doing what you want.” Matt’s voice was thick. She made a face. “Is it working?” He did grin that time. He couldn’t help it. “You aren’t very good at it.” She sighed, seeming to suddenly relax. “Well I didn’t come here thinking I was gonna have to try, or I would have brushed up on my seduction skills.” She released his wrists and brought her hands to his chest. “Look, I’ll be as straight as I can with you. I need a place to stay. I’ve no family, and I can’t go home. I don’t know anybody out here but you. I can sleep in Ben’s room. You won’t even know I’m here. Let me stay, at least until I decide what I’m going to do.” Matt felt himself bending and didn’t like it, but he couldn’t just toss her out on her rump. He didn’t have it in him. “How long do you need to figure out what you need to do?” Relief, gratitude, and hope filled her expression. “No more than a month,” she answered quickly, then amended when he said nothing, “Two weeks?” “What kind of arrangement?” Matt felt like a monster, but damn if he couldn’t stop himself from considering the proposition. She blinked, her shoulders tensing again. “For how long?” “A month” She bit her lip. “What do you want?” Matt grunted a laugh. “You are also a poor business woman. You leave yourself open to be taken advantage of.” “I’m really in no position to bargain.” Matt took a step to the side, then turned and moved in, trapping her between himself and the table. “How do I know you will deliver? Ladies don’t usually do anything.” “I’m not frigid.” She lifted her chin slightly. “How do I know that?” “This dress for one,” she said impatiently. “Not enough.” Matt shook his head, and her eyes widened. “You want some kind of advance?” She suddenly laughed. “Now, you are just trying to bully me. How do I know you won’t send me away in the morning anyway?” “I give you my word.” Matt’s entire body was heated. The tension that filled him was close to pain. “I’ll accept that. You seem a decent man.” She nodded and Matt chuckled. “I’m bartering for your virtue when you just want a place to live. There is nothing decent in that,” Matt argued. “Well I do owe you for coming to my rescue today.” Vi tried to ease his conscience. “Okay, how about a kiss? Is that enough advance for you to decide if you want me to stay or not?” Matt’s arms were around her instantly. He leaned down and claimed her mouth hungrily. She’d gone rigid at first, but a second later her lips parted beneath his. Soft, submissive, tempting lips. He drove his tongue into her mouth and again she responded, her own velvet tongue dancing around his.
With one hand, he held her against him while the other slipped between them to cover her left breast. She didn’t pull away from him. In fact, she made a soft moan into his mouth, arched slightly into his hand, and her nipple hardened beneath his fingertips. His heart pounded as her hands found their way to his shoulders. She pulled at him and moaned again. Damn. Damn. Damn. He released her lips and dipped his head lower to just below her earlobe. He inhaled her scent deeply before licking at the skin of her neck, feeling her shudder in response. “Are you a virgin?” he asked. She didn’t answer for a moment. “No.” Matt cursed under his breath. If she had been, he might have been able to find it in him to push her away. “A month.” He straightened and looked into her darkened eyes. “And you will do anything.” She nodded. “Wherever and whenever,” he added and she licked her lips, nodding again. “And I’m not sharing with the rest of them.” “Deal.” Her voice was breathy as he squeezed her breast gently. A devil’s deal, he thought. One that would bring him nothing but trouble, but it was sealed now. Two weeks, then she would be gone. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been with a woman.” He released her and dropped his hands to his trousers. Her gaze slipped down his body when he freed himself, and he saw the blush that colored her cheeks. “It will be over rather quickly.” She nodded. “Turn around.” He waited while she turned her back to him. Then he slid a hand up her back and gently pushed her forward so she bent over the table. She rested her weight on her palms, fingers splayed against the rough surface. His breath grew heavy as he reached down and jerked the hem of her skirts over her hips. No bloomers, just garters and stockings. She widened her stance, and he slipped his hand between her thighs, surprised to find her heat was moist with arousal. “Do it.” Her voice was desperate. He removed his hand and nudged the tip of his cock against her. She instantly rocked back towards him. When he eased the crown into her, she hummed softly. Sliding his hands around her hips, he lifted her slightly and then pushed his length into her. She moaned and pressed him deeper, muscles tightening around him. “Jesus,” he gritted and withdrew, then thrust again. She felt good. Her muscles pulled at him as he rocked into her and the little sounds of pleasure in her throat made the throbbing heat in him expand. He buried himself inside her. Again. Again. Again. Each thrust tightened the knot of tension in his stomach and brought him a little closer to release. His fingers curled in the fabric of her dress at her hips as those small noises pushing from her lips became moans and cries. They grew louder, echoing in the room around them, making it damnably hard for him to hold himself. When she bucked, throwing her head back so her auburn locks, shimmered in the lantern light, Matt grunted, planted his hands on the table on either side of her, and finally released inside of her heat, allowing her wild peak to milk him of everything he had to give. After he’d spent himself, he stood there, trying to catch his breath, while she did the same beneath him. “This was a bad idea,” he murmured as he reached forward to touch her hair and felt her stiffen. “You are going to send me away now?”
“No.” He absently twirled one of her locks around his finger. “I said two weeks. So you’ve got two weeks, but no more,” he added as he removed himself from her. Carefully, he let the skirt of her dress slide down over her backside. She straightened and, with shaking hands, smoothed down her dress. “Thank you.” “Go on to bed now,” he told her gruffly, and she didn’t look at him as she moved past him back into Ben’s bedroom. Matt winced. He’d slept with his brother’s fiancé. No, he amended, staring at the table, not slept with—fucked. He adjusted his clothes until he was decent and then sat in the chair. Fucked her as a dog would a bitch, as he would a whore. He bowed his head into his hands. “Forgive me, Ben.”
Chapter 4 Vi had scrubbed the entire house down by midmorning. Then, she filled the washbasin with water and did the laundry, hanging it out on the line that had been fashioned behind the house. Hank came around at eleven, but she shooed him out of the kitchen and set about preparing their lunches. She would show Matt Bullock that she had more worth than a quick fuck. After setting the table, she stepped outside and hit the metal stick against the bell that hung on the porch. The men filed in, and she quickly served them each a hearty helping of stewed potatoes, beans, and baked bread. They ate hungrily while she hovered closely to refill their plates when they neared empty. After the meal, she cleared away the table, washed the dishes and set them aside. Then she walked out to the vegetable garden and spent the next two hours picking and weeding. By early afternoon, she’d moved on to the barn. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of horse manure but picked up a pitchfork and began cleaning out the stalls despite the smell. She would earn her keep. She would lighten their load. She would show them she could pull her own weight. “You are making a mess.” A deep voice brought her whirling around with a start, nearly hitting Matt Bullock in the head. He ducked but received a head full of fresh hay. “Why are you sneaking around like that?” she demanded as he scowled and brushed the hay from atop his head. “You nearly made my heart stop beating!” “It is my barn,” he growled, clearly not liking her tone. She forced herself to bite back her irritation. “Of course. You just startled me.” She drove her pitchfork into a pile of hay and lifted it shakily, dumping it into the stall. “At that rate, you’ll be out here all night. Give me the damn thing.” He reached forward, his fingers wrapping around the pitchfork, but she didn’t release it to him. “I can do it.” She lifted her chin. “You are dropping hay…” He must have realized she wasn’t going to let him take the chore away from her. “You are holding it like a man would. Choke down on it, so you have more control over the end.” Vi did as he said, finding it much easier. She continued down the line of stalls while he stood back and watched. By the time she’d finished the last stall, she’d broken a sweat and her arms were burning. “Are you finished now?” he asked. “No. I have to go prepare supper…” she placed the pitchfork on its peg on the wall and rubbed at her shoulders. “One look at you, and they’ll have no appetites. Let Hank do it,” he told her but she turned on her heel and started for the door. “Hold on there.” He called, and she pressed her lips and turned. “I’m quite capable of cooking a meal.” “Come here.” He hadn’t moved, still leaning against the wall. “Let Hank do the cooking tonight.”
“And what am I supposed to do while Hank is cooking? I won’t just sit around while everyone else works. I can earn my keep, too,” she insisted. “Come here,” he repeated. She realized he meant for her to give him more of what they had bargained two weeks for. Slowly, she walked towards him. “The name Matt doesn’t suit you. You are as bossy and hard headed as a bull. I believe that’s what I’m going to call you. Bull.” She stopped in front of him. “You cannot possibly want anything to do with me right now. I reek of labor and am certain I look horrid.” “You are right; you do.” He nodded. “You have dirt smudged across every inch of your skin. But there’s one place that looks as pretty as it did last night.” Her eyes narrowed, then widened as he leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. It was a soft, gentle kiss—different from the one he’d assaulted her with the night before. There was no heat. No passion. “What is this?” She leaned back from him. “I’m apologizing for the way I treated you last night.” Vi rolled her eyes. “I haven’t the slightest idea about what you mean. I have work to do.” She started to turn but his fingers caught her arm. “Damnation, woman, will you let me do this?” His tone nearly sounded desperate, so Vi faced him again and waited. “I treated you poorly. You didn’t deserve it. Maybe I was angry … at you, at my brother, at the whole situation. It’s no excuse. I am ashamed…” Vi held up her hand. “If that is you when you are angry, I could get used to getting you riled up.” She laughed. “It’s a lot more pleasant than other men I’ve been around who are hot tempered. I’d much rather be pummeled that way than have you use your fists. No apology needed. The explanation is enough.” He stared at her for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. “Is that what those cuts are? And the bruises on your legs and arms? Some man hit you?” She shrugged. “I heal.” “Who was it?” His fingers tightened slightly on her arm. “No one important.” Matt didn’t release her. “Is that all he did?” She looked at him, not sure what he meant. “Did he force himself on you?” Vi stiffened. He was getting too close to the truth of her situation. She tried to pull her arm from him, but he gave her a gentle pull forward until she stood but an inch from him. “He raped you?” Vi didn’t want to lie. She’d already told a big enough one about who she was, so she nodded. “I was in a relationship with him. I’m not anymore.” “What is his name?” “I’m not telling you his name. You are prying into something I’m not comfortable discussing with you. It has nothing to do with the arrangement you and I have.” She forced a smile. “If you let me go wash up, I can meet you back out here and give you what you want.” He released her abruptly. “I’d rather you go cook after all.” He turned away. Oddly, his coldness hurt her, but she said nothing and headed for the house, leaving him in the barn alone.
Matt frowned after she’d left. Someone had misused her. Now he’d acted like an animal. The poor woman. That was probably why she had nowhere to go. Some bastard had run her off. Then his brother had offered her a safe place to live, a life without that kind of ugliness. He went about his chores until she rang for them to come in and eat again. She didn’t stay during the meal, leaving them to eat alone. The food was good, and the conversations were as lively as they had always been, but Matt was uninterested until Hank finally spoke up about the woman. “You see her working her tail off?” Hank glanced at Crowe. “She cleaned, washed, did gardening, cleaned out the stables, and still had time to feed all of us. A bundle of energy that one has.” Crowe grinned “She can clean up real nice, too.” Hank laughed. “Ben would have been proud to have a woman like that.” “She’s not his type,” Matt interrupted; all the men looked at him. “She’s too headstrong. Ben liked gentle women, ladies.” “From what I could see, she looked to be all lady,” Joe said gruffly, and some of the others chuckled. “I told her she could stay two weeks, until she figured out where she was gonna go. After that, she’s gotta move on,” Matt told them. “Now, that ain’t right.” Joe’s wrinkled face drew up in a frown. “That woman was coming here to marry your brother.” “It was a stupid thing for him to do.” Matt frowned down at his plate. “I don’t know what he was thinking, sending for a woman like that.” “Probably thinking it could make the nights a lot more comfortable after a long day’s work.” Joe threw his fork down to his empty plate. “But that’s all beside everything. It ain’t right, you throwing her out like that. Hank says she only brought one bag. I reckon that’s probably all she had. Now you say she don’t know where she’ll go. Matt Bullock, I knew your daddy, and I know he didn’t raise you to treat a woman like that.” Matt met Joe’s gaze. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do with her, Joe?” “You give her Ben’s room. You let her do what women do. And when she’s ready to move on, she will. But you don’t throw her out on her ass.” Joe pushed away from the table and stood. “That’s what you do.” He turned and stamped from the room. The rest finished their meal in silence and then quietly left, leaving Matt to clear away the dishes. He finished and sat down at the table, running his hands over his eyes. Joe was right. What was he doing? “Mister Bullock?” Vi’s voice caused him to look up. His chest tightened. She stood at the door, dressed only in a sleeping shift. Her face was scrubbed clean, and her hair hung damply around her. She looked like an angel. “There is food left…” “I’m not hungry.” She shook her head and stepped farther into the room. “I need to talk to you … to tell you something.” Matt didn’t stand, watching her pull the chair to his right out from the table and sit down. Her scent carried the smell of soap. He had a powerful urge to lean forward and inhale that scent.
“It occurred to me that you might feel guilt for the deal we made because I was to be your brother’s wife.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I wasn’t completely honest about who I was. You see, it was actually my sister who had been writing to Ben.” “Your sister? You aren’t Maggie Campbell?” Matt tensed. “No. I’m Vi … Victoria.” She chewed at her lip. “I see.” Matt couldn’t tell her the relief that flooded him with her confession. As she suspected, he’d been feeling more than a bit of guilt. “My sister is the kind of woman that you say your brother would have married. She is sweet and gentle and would have never done what I’ve done.” Her hands were trembling, he realized. “Why are you here instead of her? And why did you lie?” “I … I killed a man. That’s when she told me about Ben and gave me his letters. He’d sent for her, and she sent me instead to keep me from being hung.” She blurted it, then bowed her head. “You did what?” “I killed a … I killed my husband.” Matt felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. Her words didn’t make sense. She was determined, but she didn’t seem like a murderer. He recalled the way she’d avoided the discussion about the man who’d hurt her. “Good Lord, woman. Was he the one who hit you? Who raped you?” Matt could see she was fighting tears, and he had to give her credit. Most women would have broken by now. Instead, she nodded. “More than once, I’m ashamed to tell you. I didn’t mean to kill him. Not really. Well, maybe I did. I don’t know. He just kept coming at me. I begged him to just go to the tables with his money and whores and leave me be … but Charlie never listened to anybody. And once he was angry, he stayed that way until he tired it out of himself.” She took a breath. “So I ran. I took the letters, I stole what little money Charlie had left, packed my bag, and here I am.” Matt said nothing for a long time. He just stared at her face. The poor woman. “They don’t hang women.” “I killed him.” She closed her eyes. “Maggie was the only person I could think to go to. I wanted to go to the sheriff, but I couldn’t. John's always looked out for us, but this time I couldn’t turn to him. This is a mess he can’t clean up.” Matt stood and stepped around the corner of the table, frowning when he saw her wince and brace herself. She expected him to strike her. When he touched her shoulder, she jumped. Slowly, he lowered to his knee beside her. “The bastard deserved it,” Matt said softly. She opened her eyes and looked at him. “That may be true, but he was my husband.” She took a ragged breath. “I did love him once, but he was weak. He let whiskey turn his heart black. And I don’t think I made him happy enough…” “That is no reason for him to treat you poorly,” Matt interrupted. “I’ve had my fair share of disappointments and broken hearts, but I’ve never raised my hand to strike a woman.” Vi smiled weakly. “You are a decent man. I thought you needed to know the truth. Sooner or later, Maggie will tell John I’m here. He will come after me. I know him too well. It’s not fair to you. I’d hoped you were cruel. It would have been easier to deceive
you if you were.” She reached out and touched his hand. “I’ll leave tomorrow. You don’t deserve the trouble I bring.” Matt closed his fingers around her hand. “You needn’t leave. I don’t know who this John is, but if he comes around here, I’ll send him packing.” Vi’s smile became genuine. “You don’t know John Cahill. He isn’t easily intimidated. And he is a sheriff. He thinks he can do whatever he wishes. I wouldn’t want either of you to come to harm over me.” “You can stay. We’ll think of something,” Matt told her. “I appreciate your honesty.” She nodded, her gaze lowering again. “I knew you were not my brother’s kind of woman.” “Yes, Bull, you are very clever.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides,” Matt ignored her sarcasm. “We have a deal, one that I don’t feel nearly as terrible about now.” Vi’s gaze flicked up at him, the surprise on her face evident. “You still want to … to … after I’ve told you what I’ve done?” “You didn’t kill him with sex did you?” Matt offered a smile, bringing a chuckle from her throat. “No.” “Then I don’t think I have to worry.” Matt rose, still holding her hand, and pulling her to her feet as well. “I promise not to be as rushed as a boy this time.” He led her to his bedroom, closing the door behind them. “I can’t see a thing,” she said, but Matt pulled her to him in the dark, found her lips, and kissed her. She hesitated beneath his lips, then opened to him. He cupped her face in his palm, kissing her slowly, gently. He hated himself for how he’d treated her before, no matter how much she acted as though she liked it. Tonight, he would make it up to her. Slowly, he guided her back, onto the bed. When she lay down, he didn’t remove his clothes but crawled beside her. He kissed her neck, her jaw, listening to the rhythm of her breathing to learn what she liked. “You don’t have to treat me like this. I’m not my sister. I don’t need tender kisses and…” Her words choked when he slipped a hand beneath her gown to caress her sex. “You said whatever I want.” He parted her folds with his fingers and dipped into her warmth. “This is what I want.” With his free hand, he pushed the gown up over her breasts so he could lick at their tips. “Just tell me it feels good,” he added when he heard her breath hiss through her teeth. “Tell me what you like.” “What you are doing now is good.” She arched towards his mouth. He slid one nipple between his lips, sucked gently, rolling his tongue around the small ball that reached out for him. Then he moved to the other, taking his time, while his hand continued to massage her feminine softness. She moaned softly, rolling her hips slightly. “Mmmm. It’s good.” His mouth left her breast, and he moved between her thighs so he could lick at her clit while he worked his fingers in and out of her. He kept his pace lazy, not wanting to rush her into pleasure. He wanted her to feel it grow within her, to bloom. When she reached down, however, and curled her fingers in his hair, his body reacted instantly. She needn’t tell him now that she liked what he was doing. Her little whimpers were affirmation enough. They were joined by moans, and her breath quickened. When he was certain she was close, he moved his fingers faster, bringing her
to her peak in a rush. She let go of his hair as she cried out, her body shaking beneath him. But he didn’t release her until the last wave washed away and her body and voice settled. Slipping from between her thighs, he lay down beside her and draped an arm over her waist. “Sleep here tonight. You needn’t run off to hide in Ben’s room.” She rolled into his chest, curling against him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Chapter 5 Maggie watched John sleep, feet on the floor, head titled back, his hat covering his eyes. His arms were crossed loosely so he could rest his shoulder against the back of the stage. Careful not to wake him or Ellis, who slept across from them, she moved closer to John’s side, but noticed that his breathing changed instantly. “I need to speak with you,” she whispered. “About Ben Bullock.” “I don’t want to hear it,” he murmured. “That’s just what I want to speak with you about. John, forgive me, but you sound as if … are you jealous?” She bit her lip and watched him reach up and slide his hat from his head and straighten. Then, suddenly, he slapped the end of his hat against his knee and looked at her. “Well, hell yes, I’m jealous, Maggie. How else am I supposed to be?” Ellis opened a lazy eye and looked at them reproachfully. Maggie’s heart quickened. “I don’t know, John. You never seemed … as if you wanted anything to do with me but … well, you treated me like you always have.” John exhaled heavily. “That’s because I don’t feel any different towards you than I always have.” Maggie felt her cheeks flame, and humiliation scorched her insides. “Forgive me, John. I was being silly. I … I…” “Oh, Maggie.” He reached forward and took her hands. “Don’t you know? I’ve loved you since we were children. I was always doing things that nearly got me killed to impress you.” “You did?” Maggie asked hopefully. “Why did you never speak to me of it?” John shrugged. “For awhile I thought you knew. Then I thought it was only hopeful dreaming on my part. Then I just made up my mind that you would be my … wife … once I got the house built.” “You assumed that without even asking me?” Maggie stared at him. “Vi told me I was dense if I didn’t think you would want me. I figured your sister would know best.” John shook his head. “She never told me that you were writing this other fella.” “I didn’t tell her.” Maggie felt like laughing and weeping in the same breath. “I’d given up on you, John…” He leaned forward and kissed her, his firm, warm lips covering hers momentarily. “Don’t ever give up on me, Maggie,” he murmured against her mouth. “For God’s sake,” Ellis growled from across the coach. Without taking his lips from Maggie’s, John raised his voice slightly. “Don’t make me shoot you when I just got this woman in the mind to marry me.” He waited, but Ellis said nothing else. Maggie giggled against his kiss and turned her head. “He’s right. We should discuss this more in private.” She smiled as she scooted closer to the window. She tucked the coat against her cheek and turned her head. “Goodnight, John.”
John eased back onto his seat, growled something that sounded dangerously like a curse before placing his hat back on his head and over his eyes. “You aren’t marrying Ben Bullock.” **** John stepped from the stage and glanced around the small town of Lincoln before turning to reach up and grasp Maggie’s waist. He lifted her to the ground, but didn’t release her immediately. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said a moment before he captured her lips. When she gasped and slapped at his shoulder, he slipped his tongue between her lips to taste the moistness behind them. She made a little sound of protest, but her hands rested on his shoulders in submission. “The two of you need to go acquire a room,” Ellis snapped from behind them. “John, please, it isn’t proper to show such affection in public like this. It should be reserved for private moments,” Maggie whispered, clearly embarrassed. He turned his back to the man and reached down to scoop her up causing her to cry out with alarm. “John Cahill!” she gasped as he strode away from the stage and towards the hotel. “What are you doing?” “Making way for a private moment.” He grinned down at her before kicking the door open to the hotel and stepping inside. “A room please. One bed. Clean sheets. Don’t care much about anything else.” Maggie turned her face into his chest as if to hide the shame his words evoked. “Of course, sir.” The man behind the desk scowled at him before handing him a key. “You’ll have to pay the man, Maggie, girl. The money is just inside my vest…” “I most certainly will not! Perhaps, if you put me down and stopped carrying on like a wild beast of a man, you could acquire us separate rooms and pay the gentleman yourself,” she hissed. John chuckled and set her to the floor. “Two rooms then,” John told the man. He handed him a second key, offering Maggie a smile of approval while John paid him. “I’ll need my bag. The large one.” Maggie took the key he held up. “Of course you will,” John growled and turned to head back out into the street. “He wasn’t really going to get us only one room. He only behaves like that to annoy me,” Maggie told the man at the desk once he was gone. “Of course.” The man inclined his head. Maggie felt she needed to say more but then decided against it. She turned and headed up the stairs to the safety of the room that awaited her. Five minutes later, John entered without knocking and dropped her largest suitcase next to the door. She smiled, but then took a step back when he strode towards her. “John, you cannot think that by my admission of affection that you have rights over…” “Private moments,” he finished, collecting her into his arms. He bowed his head and kissed her tenderly, so tenderly that she felt faint. But the tenderness soon gave way to hunger, and his kiss deepened. When his tongue pushed between her lips, her body shuddered. Her mind screamed to push him away. It wasn’t proper for her to allow him to continue kissing her like this, but her body wouldn’t obey. Instead, it seemed to come
alive, breathing warmth into her veins. When his hips settled against hers, and she felt his hard desire pressing against her, that warmth fired into scorching heat. “We must stop, John.” She forced the unwanted words from her lips, breaking his kiss. “Why?” John’s arms tightened around her. “It feels right, Maggie. Damn, but I have waited too long…” “As have I, but you know I cannot. We must wait.” She looked up at the torment in his eyes and felt guilt spear through her. He did want her. She’d been blind to it before but could see it clearly now. His disappointment was fleeting, but she saw it too, moments before he let his arms fall from around her, leaving her suddenly cold. “As you wish, Maggie,” he murmured and held up a finger. “But once you are my wife…” He turned abruptly and headed for the door. Maggie bit her lip. She wished she could be as free as her sister, remembering Vi telling her once that there were ways to get around actually having sex with a man, but it was scandalous. She’d never even considered such a thing until this moment, when John was about to walk out her door. “John, wait.” She clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking when he paused and looked back at her. “Don’t leave, John.” He’d started opening the door. Now, he slowly closed it again, his eyes narrowed on her as if unsure what she meant. Maggie wasn’t certain herself what she was doing. All she knew was what Vi had described to her that she and Charlie had done before they were married. But what would John think of her if she suggested that they do the same? “Vi told me once that she and Charlie did things before they were married, without actually breaking her.” Maggie chose her words carefully, feeling her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t be opposed to trying to…” “What things?” John took a step, seeming hopeful but still unsure. “Things … with her mouth,” Maggie whispered. “Vi told me that when Charlie was hot for her, to keep him from wanting sex before they were wed, she did things to him with her mouth that satisfied him enough to wait.” “Good Lord, Maggie.” John laughed shakily. “Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and propose something like this to make me wonder if I know you at all.” “May I try?” She took a step forward. “The decent thing for me to say is no.” But he didn’t move. Maggie could see he was fighting with himself, so she held her trembling hand out for him to take. Still he hesitated, then slowly, laced his fingers with hers. She released a breath. “The chair?” She nodded toward the high back chair in the corner of the room, next to the reading table. He only inclined his head. Maggie waited until he was seated, before retrieving a pillow from the bed and dropping it to the floor at his feet. John’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched Maggie kneel before him. He didn’t move as she leaned between his knees and reached for the button of his trousers. She kept her lashes lowered, as if afraid to look at him, and her hands shook with the same rhythm that quivered in his stomach. “You don’t have to do this, Maggie. I expect nothing from you,” he told her, but she reached into his trousers and carefully pulled his cock free. Her blue eyes lifted and met his gaze as she wrapped her palm around him. He groaned, his attention dropping to her mouth when her small pink tongue slid out, leaving a glistening trail along her bottom lip.
“I want to, John.” Her lashes lowered again, and she leaned forward. He watched the crown disappear between her lips and groaned at the pressure of her velvet tongue against him. Tension knotted in his stomach as she applied pressure with her mouth. She sucked at him then dragged her lips up and over the head of his cock. Apparently, Vi had told her enough about it for her to know what to do. She slid him back into her mouth, her fingers squeezing down to the base of his shaft, and then her mouth applied pressure again. John’s head rolled back against the chair, and he closed his eyes. Her mouth worked over him at a steady pace. In. Out. Up and down. His fingers gripped the arms of the chair. “Faster,” he spoke, then winced when her mouth stilled, but only for a moment. Then she obliged. He couldn’t look at her. If he did, he would spill into her mouth. So long, he’d dreamed of her doing this very thing to him, but no fantasy had been as painfully sweet. The suction of her lips, the feel of her tongue, and the rhythm; John knew he was close. Regretfully, he reached down to lift her face away from him, his breath pumping heavily in his chest. “You’ll have to stop now, Maggie.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own. “But Vi said you would release yourself,” Maggie protested, her glistening, swollen lips beckoning him to assault her. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He groaned when she ran her palm up his length. For a moment, Maggie just stared at him, then slowly leaned forward to lick at the tip of his cock. Damn Vi! He stood abruptly and stepped around Maggie. The chamber pot was all he had, and he quickly finished himself into it, stroking quickly until he released. He turned after he’d tucked himself back into his trousers, and found Maggie watching him curiously. “A moment more and that would have been in your mouth. You drive a man to the edge of decency.” He saw the little hint of laughter curl the corners of her lips. “I knew what to expect, John. Vi spared no details when describing how it was done,” she said quietly. “I may be naïve, but I am not stupid.” John stared at her. She would have taken his seed in her mouth? She would have allowed him to come into her mouth? He had not expected that from Maggie, who wrinkled her nose at the thought of anything considered filthy. “Get on that bed,” he ordered and Maggie’s eyes widened. “You cannot wish it again so soon.” She rose to her feet, scooping up her pillow. “I can and I do, that makes me greedy; not selfish. Now, get on the bed.” He pointed and watched her toss the pillow back in its place. “I will not agree to sacrificing my virginity because you say you are greedy, John Cahill. You can take what I am willing to give or have nothing at all.” She lifted her chin, and John smiled at how very much she did look like her sister when she set her mind to something. He gave her a gentle shove, sending her toppling onto the blankets of the bed. “One moment that mouth is heaven sent, the next it is the devil’s whip. I’m not going to ravish you, Maggie. Not how you think anyway. You see, I can use my mouth on you, too. I’m not surprised Vi didn’t mention that to you. Charlie Olson is a bastard.”
Maggie’s eyes widened as he pushed up her skirts, and his head dipped forward. A moment later, she lay back against the pillow and let him do as he wished.
Chapter 6 Matt couldn’t keep his eyes off of Vi. She’d only been there three weeks already, and he was captivated by her every move. Each time she’d stepped from the house, his gaze had followed her until she returned inside. When she came out again after lunch, and headed for the stables, Hank halted beside him. “Why don’t you go on and show her what to do? We can handle these new horses between the seven of us.” Matt cut his eyes at Hank. “She knows what to do.” “Well, she might need a little help.” Hank leaned closer. “You ain’t getting no work done anyway, boss. And it might as well be one of us enjoying having that woman around.” Matt ran his gloved hand over his face, then handed the reins of the horse he was working with over to Hank. Exhaling loudly, he started for the stables. A glance behind him showed Hank nodding in encouragement. So, the others hadn’t guessed that he had already taken advantage of her being there. He stepped inside just in time to see her wrinkle her nose. “I’d rather you not do this,” he called as he walked towards her. “If you need something to do, I can give you other chores, but this is a dirty one, and it doesn’t feel right you doing it.” “I can do it,” Vi insisted just as she’d done everyday since her arrival. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. I’d just feel better if you didn’t.” He reached forward and grasped the pitchfork, deciding he wouldn’t let her do it today. She tried to hold on, but he jerked it from her hand and placed it back on its peg. “You more than earn your keep feeding the lot of us the way you do.” “Any fool can cook and clean,” Vi argued. “Alright, you are distracting me. It’s why I didn’t want you here to begin with. You make it hard to concentrate on what I need to do.” He reached for her, but she jumped back out of his reach. “Come here.” “Uh uh. You’ve had it fairly easy these past few weeks, Bull. I never said I’d make it easy.” She grinned wickedly, and Matt felt himself harden for her. “If you want something, you have to come and get it.” It was a challenge, one that heated him more quickly than he liked. “I don’t have time for games.” “Then go back out to your horses.” Vi took a step backwards when he advanced towards her. “Don’t make me…” “Make you what?” She raised a brow. “Come here,” he said one last time, but he didn’t want her to give in. She shook her head, and, when he moved forward, she whirled and ran between the rows of stalls. He caught up with her in three strides, his arm wrapping around her waist. He bent his mouth to her ear. “You make me forget I want to treat you like a lady.” “Then don’t. It’s boring.” She squirmed against him, until he turned and pushed her against the wall. “What woman talks like that?”
“One that knows what she wants.” Vi lifted her chin. “And I want you, Matt Bullock.” He kissed her roughly, pressing his body to hers, pinning her against the wood of the stable wall. She had fire that stirred him, and the way her eyes flashed drove him to want to assault her. When her arms crept around his neck, he groaned. This would be easier if she were the kind of woman Ben would have wanted; he wouldn’t be so tempted by her if she were. Her laugh wouldn’t fill his chest with warmth. Her moans wouldn’t make him feel more like a man than he’d ever had. Her voice would only echo in his memory. He released her lips abruptly. Good Lord, he loved this woman. The realization kicked him hard in his stomach. When had that happened? But he knew when. The moment she’d opened her amber eyes and gazed up at him on the road. He’d seen right then she wasn’t like other women. She’d not hidden her undergarments from him when she rummaged through her suitcase. She’d rubbed against him on purpose when they rode towards the ranch after she realized it affected him. She’d struck a devil’s deal to stay and enjoyed it. “What are you staring at?” she whispered huskily. “A nothing but trouble woman,” he answered in a low voice. “One that is going to be the ruin of me.” “I don’t want to ruin you, Bull. I just want to fuck you.” Her voice wrapped around that word and drove lust into him so violently that it was close to pain. With a growl, he reached down and jerked up her skirts with one hand. With the other, he freed himself from his trousers. She instantly lifted her leg, resting her knee at his hip. “It isn’t right I treat you like this.” “I want it.” She grasped his shoulders, pulled at him. Vi wanted him in her. She didn’t care what he thought of her. She wanted him close, to feel him, hear his voice. She felt safe when he was with her, as if nothing horrible could ever happen again. She felt he understood her like no other man she’d ever known. When he reached around her, lifting her slightly, she hummed with anticipation. A second later, he drove into her, pushing a cry from her lips. He filled her, made her whole. She moaned as his other hand clapped on her ass. She pushed her shoulders back against the wall, trusting him to hold her weight, and lifted her other leg. Her hands dropped to her sides, palms pressing against the wood behind her while he thrust in and out of her. She locked her gaze on his face, watching the planes of his cheeks flush and his lids grow heavy. “More.” He jerked into her desperately, as desperately as she felt. Again and again until she could feel herself nearing the brink of pleasure. “Hurry.” His voice was deep, little more than an animalistic sound in the back of his throat, but it was enough to send her over the edge. His rhythm quickened, and a moment after she screamed out, she felt him release inside of her. His chest pumped in and out with his breath, matching her own fight to steady her own breathing. He held her still for several moments, thrusting twice more as if he didn’t want to stop despite the fact that he’d spent himself. Then slowly he lowered her back to the ground and removed himself, but he didn’t hurry from her as he had before. Instead, he bowed his forehead to her shoulder.
“I was engaged to a woman about three years ago. I loved her deeply. She was everything I thought I wanted in a woman. Ben and I had been saving for several years to buy this ranch. Right before we were to be married…” “She stole from you,” Vi finished, nodding. “It’s hard for me to trust anyone now.” “And then I show up with a suitcase of lies.” She sighed. “But you came clean, Vi.” He turned his head and kissed her cheek. “And now I can’t even do my work without thinking of you. I’ve only known you three weeks. It makes no sense.” Vi’s heart quickened. What was he saying to her? “I must be a fool.” He laughed against her throat. “Marry me, Vi.” “Marry you?” Vi repeated when he finally leaned away and adjusted his clothes so he was decent again. “You said you wanted no wife.” “If you don’t marry me, I’ll have to send you away sooner or later.” He frowned deeply. “And, damn it, I don’t want to do that.” “I’ve murdered someone.” She shook her head. “You said I was nothing but trouble. Now you want me to be your wife?” “I won’t ever hit you. I may get frustrated from time to time when you won’t listen to me, but I’ll never raise my hand to you. I’d kill anyone who ever did.” He leaned forward, placing his palms against the wall on either side of her head. “I don’t have much to offer you. Everything I’ve got is in this ranch, but it’s yours if you’ll have me.” Vi felt tears sting her eyes. This was the kind of man Charlie should have been. He was fine and decent, and, most of all, he was honest. He’d not judged her when she’d told him what she’d done. He didn’t send her away. On the contrary, he wanted her to stay. “I’d be the luckiest woman alive to have a husband like you,” she whispered. “But they’ll come for me, Matt. And when they do…” “I won’t let them take you. It would be a mistake. You’ve been here with me for months. Hank will share the lie. All of them would.” Matt kissed her temple. “You would be safe here.” “Safe,” she repeated. “I’d never felt safe until I came here.” “Then don’t leave. I promise you that no one will ever hurt you like that again.” He kissed her again. “You don’t even know me.” She laughed. “I know you are strong willed. I know you’d argue with me until the sun rose and set again. I know you do whatever you have to in order to survive. That’s something I know in myself and admire,” he added. “I know you can cook a fine meal, and my house has never been as clean as it has been these past weeks.” “Any fool can cook and clean…” “I know I like knowing you are the one that keeps it clean. And the thought of you in my bed every night, makes me want to hold on to you and never let you go.” His gaze was unguarded, exposing the truth in his emotions. Vi swallowed. “You can feel like that? Knowing what I’ve done?” “It makes me want you all the more. You fight. You stand up.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “I do, too. The man that killed my brother got his foot caught in a bear trap, a trap I hid in the grass just for him. I know what it feels like to be hurt and to do what
you have to do.” He straightened so she could look up at his face. “We all have ugly moments in our pasts. We can start anew.” “Together.” Vi’s hands shook. He nodded. “Together.” She closed her eyes. Could she have this? Did she deserve it after what she’d done? Damn, she wanted it. She wanted this life he offered her, this life with him. “Then I’ll marry you, Matt Bullock, but I might not make you happy.” She opened her eyes. “You already have.”
Chapter 7 Matt slid off his horse as Hank brought the wagon to a halt outside the general store. They needed supplies, and he was thankful that they would be selling their first herd of horses in a month so he could pay off his credit here in town. The others spread out, each with their own items to find. He and Hank headed into the general store. He saw Hank cut his eyes in his direction when he headed towards the rolls of fabric, but if the hand wanted to say anything, he kept quiet. Vi had been with him more than a month. She’d never complained of the work. Matt had decided she needed something special, but what the hell did he know about what women wanted? “I’m looking for Ben Bullock.” Matt’s head snapped up to stare at the man that stood at the counter. His eyes narrowed. The stranger was tall, with blond hair, a stocky build, and fancy, city clothes. Who the hell was this? The shopkeeper’s gaze rose, too. Matt and Hank stepped closer as the stranger turned to look at him. “You are Ben Bullock?” The man accused then stuck out his hand. “Charles Olson. I have traveled non-stop on a mail stage to find you. I believe you have something that belongs to me, sir.” Matt didn’t take his hand, just stared at him until he dropped it to his side. “My wife. Her name is Victoria Olson. She’s ill, and I have learned that she came out this way to marry you.” He winced as he looked down at the floor. “She does this from time to time to me. This is just the farthest she’s ever gone.” “What do you mean?” Matt frowned. “Wyoming. It’s a great ways from home. She’s never gone so far before. It doesn’t matter. I’ve come to take her back home again.” Charles took a step closer and lowered her voice. “Her sister, Margaret, wanted to come, but she just can’t take seeing Vi like this anymore. Maggie’s a gentle woman, tenderhearted. So I came alone, Mr. Bullock, but she paid for it.” “A woman paid your way?” Matt wasn’t sure what to think of this man. Charles’ jaw tightened slightly. “Because, as usual, Vi stole all our things, sold them, and left me with nothing again.” Matt didn’t like what he was hearing. “She’s ill, I tell you. She even turned a knife on me when I tried to stop her. She can’t help it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing when she gets like that.” Charles held up his palms. “But she’s all I have, Mr. Bullock.” Matt could tell he was lying. His eyes were not as clear as his words. He shook his head. “My brother is Ben Bullock. He died several months ago. About two months after, the woman you speak of showed up at my ranch claiming she was going to be my brother’s wife. I sent her packing.” “Do you know where she headed?” Matt shook his head. “I don’t.” Charles studied him closely, then exhaled loudly. “I have to find her, sir. She wouldn’t have given up so easily. You are certain you didn’t give her a place to stay?”
“Are you calling Matt Bullock a liar?” Hank stepped forward, his scratchy voice dangerously low. “He sent that woman on. No room for her at our place, and even if there was, a woman won’t be nothing but trouble at a ranch full of men.” Charles cursed under his breath. “Then she’s probably here somewhere.” He didn’t bother keeping up his charade, assuming instead that he got the information he wanted. His fist clenched. “She did mention before she left that she’d killed a husband.” Matt crossed his arms. “It takes more than a woman to do me in,” Charles growled. Matt’s frown deepened. So, Vi was still married to this man. His gaze washed over him slowly. He was strong. His arms were thick, and his chest was solid. He could overpower Vi easily. Charles’ gaze dropped to the flowered fabric that Matt held. His expression tightened as he lifted his eyes to Matt again. “She’s at your place, isn’t she?” Matt said nothing. “We already said she ain’t here.” Hank crossed his arms, too. “Um huh.” Charles stood there for a minute. “You just tell her, if you happen to see her, that her husband, Charlie, is waiting for her in town.” He turned on his heel and marched from the store. **** “This is a bad idea,” Matt grumbled as Hank drove the wagon back into town. “I know him. He won’t leave until I come to speak to him.” Vi shook her head. “I just can’t believe he’s alive. He wasn’t moving when I left him. He was bleeding everywhere. I have to see him for myself.” The wagon stopped, and Matt climbed down, then reached up to help her to the ground while Hank climbed down the other side. “You don’t even know where he’ll be.” Vi pressed her lips, her gaze resting on the saloon. “Where there are cards and women, that’s where we’ll find him.” She lifted her chin and headed towards the saloon, ignoring Matt when he swore behind her. She’d spent most of the afternoon in Ben’s room crying after Matt had told her of running into Charles Olson. Though she did feel relief that she’d not succeeded in killing him, his being alive meant she had no chance at the life Matt offered her. She was still married. She just prayed it was a mistake. Pushing open the saloon doors, she felt Matt touch her back, indicating she wasn’t alone. She stepped inside, her gaze sliding over the room until they found the smiling face at a card table. Her heart stopped and dropped to her stomach. There was no mistake. Charlie was still alive. He looked up and for a moment their eyes met. Then he threw down his hand, opting out of the game, and stood. Slowly, he made his way towards her, his steps lazy, his grin lopsided. When he stopped in front of her, he shook his head. “Hello, Vi.” “Hello, Charlie.” She didn’t expect him to strike her. She’d seen the fury in his eyes a second too late. Her head snapped to the side, and Hank shouted from behind her. “You boys just stay out of this. It’s a domestic matter,” Charlie hissed over Vi’s head, and she held up her hand, indicating that she did not want Hank or Matt to get involved. “You thought to kill me and leave me there bleeding?”
“A woman can pray for things.” Vi crossed her arms. “Not much of a woman.” Charlie looked her over. “What the hell were you thinking?” “I wasn’t trying to kill you.” Vi kept her voice low but everyone in the saloon was watching them. “You put a knife in my stomach!” He reached forward and grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her skin. “What the hell did you think was going to happen?” “Well, you aren’t dead.” Vi tried to jerk away from him. “Did you bring your suitcase? We are going home.” He gritted. “I’m not going anywhere…” Her words ended in a yelp when he jerked her closer. “You are my wife and you are coming home with me—one way or another.” His eyes were like blue steel. “Release me, Charlie,” she hissed right back at him. “The hell I will.” “That’s it. Let her go.” Matt finally stepped forward, ignoring Vi when she shook her head at him. “Mind your business, cowpoke.” Charlie scowled at Matt. “This is my business.” Matt didn’t even flinch. “Did you fuck this man?” Charlie’s attention dropped back to Vi. “That’s why he’s involving himself in this, isn’t it? My wife, the little fucking whore. I should have guessed that’s what you would do.” “Release me,” Vi repeated, then turned her head, closed her eyes, and braced herself when he raised his hand, but it never fell. When she opened her eyes, Matt had reached over her to grasp Charlie’s arm. “Strike her again, and so help me, I will finish what she started.” Matt’s voice was dangerously low; it vibrated with promise. “It’s not your business!” Charlie yelled. “She’s to be my wife,” Matt argued and whispers erupted throughout the saloon. “She’s a married woman.” Charlie laughed. “She’s a widow if you don’t let her go like I said,” Matt warned. Charlie seemed to think over his threat, then released Vi roughly. Matt in turn released his arm and slid it down to Vi’s shoulder, to push her slightly behind him. “Now, I’m going to tell you how this ends. Tomorrow morning, you will sign papers that release her from her marriage to you, and then you will carry your ass back to St. Louis.” Matt tilted his head when Charlie opened his mouth as if to say something. “Don’t do it, and there will be trouble.” Charlie’s mouth clamped closed. His gaze slid from Matt down to Vi. “Is that what you want, Vi? After all our years? You just gonna walk away? Leave me, like everyone else has in my life?” Vi’s chest tightened. “You give me no choice, Charlie.” “You know I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Charlie hung his head. “You know that’s true, Vi.” “It’s not enough.” “You love me too, God damn it,” he murmured. Vi sighed and stepped around Matt, reaching out to touch Charlie’s shoulder. “I did once, but Charlie, there’s been no love for a long time.”
“I’ll kill you before I let you marry someone else,” he threatened, but it sounded empty, defeated. “Go back to St. Louis, Charlie,” Vi said softly. “And you’ll go with this man.” He looked at Matt, his eyes hardening again before they returned to Vi. “Stupid woman. All you are to him is all you’ve been to me: a whore. And when he’s tired of that, he’ll treat you the same way I have.” Charlie turned and stalked back to the table. “Let’s go.” Matt took her by the shoulders and guided her from the saloon. Once outside, she slipped from beneath his fingers, to her knees, and buried her face in her hands. The sobs that shook her body couldn’t be stifled. Matt’s strong arms wrapped around her, lifted her up and settled her in the wagon next to Hank. She didn’t even seem to notice. He gave Hank a nod and then watched the wagon jerk forward. He stood there until it was out of sight, then turned back towards the saloon. Blood pounded in his veins and when he pushed the doors open again, some stood and moved their chairs out of the way. Charlie just sat in his chair looking at him as Matt walked towards him. “You struck her. You called her names. And you threatened her life.” Matt halted in front of him. “She tried to take mine.” “Would anyone have missed you?” Matt’s knuckles popped as he fisted his fingers at his side. “She told me how you treated her. That you raped her and beat on her like she was a mongrel.” “A man can do as he wishes with his own wife.” Charlie stood. “You think you’ve won? Beat me to a pulp. Tomorrow morning, you bring me that paper. It’ll never be signed. She won’t allow it. You don’t know her like I do. She’s left before. She always comes back, and you’ll be left here looking like a fool.” “You are a liar and a sorry excuse for a man,” Matt growled. “Maybe so, but I’ll be that excuse with a wife.” Charlie sneered. “And you’ll be the bastard with no whore.” His head snapped back beneath the force of Matt’s fist. Matt didn’t wait for him to recover and drove in the knuckles of his other hand. Charlie howled with pain, and Matt knew he’d struck the wound Vi had left. “Now, are you gonna sign those papers like I said and never come back here?” Charlie spat a curse at him, and he drove his fist into the wound again. “Yes! God, damn it, yes!” “You aren’t gonna bother Vi again?” “I said I'd go!” Charlie yelled so Matt pushed him backwards, sending him tumbling over a chair. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you again,” Matt warned and turned to head back outside. He wouldn’t go back to the ranch tonight. He was going to make certain Charlie Olson didn’t try to skip town before he signed those papers. Matt would be damned if he was going to let her stay married to the bastard. She was his now, not Charles Olson’s.
Chapter 8 John jumped from the stage before it stopped moving when he saw Vi stepping from the general store. Behind him, Maggie called out, but he didn’t slow his stride until he reached Vi’s side. “Fool headed woman! What in hell are you thinking?” He reached for her arm, but a hand caught his shoulder as Vi stared up with surprise. “Please don’t tell me this is another husband.” The man was built like a mountain. “And just when we got rid of the first one.” Vi’s face lit up. “John!” She threw her arms around him, and the man beside her let his hand fall from John’s shoulder. “Got rid of? Charlie was here? How did he get here before me?” John took Vi’s shoulders and held her back from him. “Where is he now?” “He came here on a mail stage. He’s on his way back to St. Louis.” Vi beamed. “He signed papers just two hours ago, John. Papers that released me from the marriage.” “You aren’t married to him anymore?” John turned as Maggie rushed forward. “Oh, Vi, how did you manage to make him agree to such a thing?” John waited while the two embraced one another, glancing at the man who still stood at Vi’s side. “You are Ben Bullock?” he asked when the women parted. “Well, I’m here to tell you that you will not marry Margaret Campbell. I don’t give a damn how decent she claims you are, I won’t stand here and see her married off to anyone but me.” “John,” Vi said softly but he held up his hand and took a step towards Bullock. “What kind of man sends for a woman without ever having met her?” John’s eyes narrowed. “One that is up to no good, I would guess.” “One that was lonely but meant well,” the man corrected. “John,” Vi said again. “I mean to marry Maggie. And I’m not letting you, or any other man, stand in my way,” John continued but stopped when Bullock turned his head in an attempt to hide his grin. “John, please, this is not Ben Bullock,” Vi interrupted. “This is his brother, Matt.” She turned to Maggie, “I’m so sorry, Maggie, but Ben was killed several months ago.” Maggie gasped. “Killed?” She looked at Matt. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry for your loss. He wrote such kind words of you, and I could tell that the two of you were very close.” “Thank you, ma’am.” Matt inclined his head. John let out a long breath. “Alright, tell me what happened with Charlie.” “Matt convinced him to sign those papers. I’m free, John. I’m free of him.” Vi smiled. “Convinced?” John cut his eyes at Matt who shrugged. “He only needed a little prompting.” “I’ll bet he did.” John returned his attention to Vi. “So I arrived just in time to take you home?” Vi shook her head. “I’m not going home. I’m staying here … with Matt. He’s asked me to marry him.” Maggie gave a little squeal and embraced her sister again.
“And you said yes?” John stared at her. “From one fire into another? You don’t even know this man!” “Be happy for me, John. I am.” Vi lifted her chin, “And this one is a good one.” “I’m a one now? To be added to a list?” Matt crossed his arms. “So you’d send for a woman just as your brother had?” John asked. “Hell, no. I tried to send the woman away.” Matt slanted a glance down at Vi. “But she’s as stubborn as an old pack mule. Nothing but trouble to me.” Vi slapped at his shoulder and laughed. John stared at her, realizing it was the first time in a long time, he’d seen a genuine smile on her face. He glanced down at Maggie to find her eyes brimming with tears. “You women are going to worry every last hair out of my head.” A quick flurry of movement caught John's eyes, and he turned just in time to see the end of the revolver lift. Charlie Olson’s eyes glittered with near madness. John leapt forward, and the bullet tore through him. A moment later his gun fired, leaving a tiny hole in Charlie’s head, seconds before he dropped to his knees with a grunt. Maggie screamed as he slumped to the side. He felt her hands pulling at him, and then his gaze focused on her face. He forced a smile. “Don’t worry, Maggie, girl. It’s just a bullet.” Everything swirled into blackness. **** “Please don’t let him die.” Maggie spoke between her sobs as Vi wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Twenty minutes after John was shot, they stood in the small, one room building belonging to the Centennial physician. “Doctor Jones is the best physician in Wyoming,” Matt tried to reassure her as he held John down, but Maggie stood trembling. There was so much blood. And John was screaming between clenched teeth as the doctor dug into the wound with his metal hook. She finally tore from Vi’s hands and rushed forward to grasp his hands. “Please, don’t die, John. Please. Live and I’ll marry you tomorrow.” His gaze locked on her, his face red from strain, and soaked with sweat. “Don’t … cry … Maggie … arghhh!” He screamed again, straining against Matt’s strength. “Got it.” The doctor held up the tiny bullet. “Vi, hand me that bottle,” Matt called and Vi brought him the bottle of whiskey. “Drink this,” he told him, and John grasped the neck before turning the rim to his lips. He drank heavily, wincing when the doctor pressed a cloth to his wound. “Hold this here. We have to stop the bleeding if we want him to live,” the doctor told Maggie, and she reached forward, pressing the cloth against the hole in his shoulder. “He’s going to live.” Maggie sniffed back her tears. “Or so help me I’ll kill Charles Olson a third time!” “He was aiming for Vi,” John gritted, leaning his head back against the pillows. Several minutes later, the bottle fell from his hand, spilling across the floor, and Maggie screamed. “He’s not dead,” the doctor told her quickly. “I had your sister put a dose of laudanum in the whiskey. He’ll just sleep for awhile without pain.” She leaned her forehead to John’s chest and tried to stop her sobs. Everyone else was holding it together. “We’ll clean and wrap the wound.” The doctor rested his wrinkled hand on her back. “Then we’ll send for the preacher and wait.”
“The preacher?” Her head snapped up, and the doctor sent her a toothless grin. “Well, you’ll need a preacher if you are going to marry him in the morning.” **** Several weeks later, Maggie smiled as the preacher finished the ceremony. She looked at John as he shifted, wincing at the slight pain still in his shoulder. Then her gaze returned forward as Matt leaned over and pressed his mouth to her sister’s lips. The seven men who’d joined them in the lean-to church all let out a loud whoop at once. Vi smiled at her when Matt leaned away. “Congratulations, Mrs. Bullock.” Maggie wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “You make a beautiful bride.” “A nothing but trouble bride,” Matt added and Maggie laughed through her tears. “It seems a dream, as if I will wake soon and find myself still waiting on Charlie…” Vi began but Matt’s arm slipped around her and hugged her to his side. “The only husband I ever want to hear you name again is me.” He spoke against Vi’s temple. “I plan on making you forget Charles Olson all together in just a few minutes.” Vi grinned up at him, and he leaned down and kissed her lips again. “One more, preacher, before you go,” John called causing them all to look at him. Maggie felt her cheeks burn when he took her hand and stepped forward. “I don’t remember much else, but I do remember you saying you would marry me if I lived. So, I lived.” He leaned towards her, “That is, if you still want me after I’ve been shot up.” Maggie nodded and stepped to his side in front of the preacher. The men behind them gave another whoop. Matt and Vi stood to the side while the preacher performed the second ceremony. But the moment John leaned down and kissed Maggie, Matt’s hand tightened on Vi’s and he pulled her towards the door. “Congratulations, but if you’ll excuse us, we have other matters to tend to.” His gaze slipped down to Vi when everyone laughed. “One in particular that is red and lacy and waiting for us at the hotel.” It was Vi’s turn to laugh as he led her through the church doors into the sunshine and the rest of her life. The End About the Author: With favorite authors like Stephen King, Piers Anthony, and Iris Johansen, it's no wonder Sable Grey weaves stories of sex, love, and adventure. A storyteller at a young age, Sable began writing small stories as a child for her mother. However, it wasn't until she was well into her twenties that she realized that her calling was to share her stories with a larger audience than just family members and friends. Sable is dedicated to her craft and to bringing her readers quality fiction filled with gratifying and passionate relationships. For her, writing romance means writing stories to touch the mind, body, heart, and soul.
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