Forty-four

Battered but not beaten, Houston and his drovers finally arrived in Dodge City two months after leaving the Lone Star. They’d had to lay over ten days at Fort Supply to let him and his men heal and rest. The lull had given them time to fatten the cattle a bit.

Frank Farley was recovering from his gunshot, and instead of turning him over to the military, Houston had offered him a job. He couldn’t repay the man enough for helping them and keeping Lara safe.

The sun hovered low on the horizon when they rode into town. The drovers wasted no time in driving the cattle to the huge stockyards, where milling longhorns stretched as far as the eye could see. The sight, combined with the din of all those bawling cattle, boggled Houston’s mind. Growing up on the Lone Star, he was accustomed to large numbers, but the yards held more cattle than he’d ever seen.

Even after the losses along the trail and during the fight, he still had a sizeable herd, taking days to round them up following the battle. Once the herd was inside the gates of the stockyard and counted by the tally man, the drovers scattered like a wad of buckshot. Lara had issued a stern warning to Quaid and Virgil not to let Henry out of their sight.

Now pausing on Dodge’s Front Street, Houston steadied his horse. They’d made it, and in one piece. It was a wonder he didn’t drop Gracie. The babe was in perpetual motion, trying to take in all the chaos. She kept her pointed finger very busy, scolding everything and everyone. He breathed a sigh of relief and grinned at Lara beside him on the little mare she’d ridden before.

His last glimpse of Sam, Luke, and Clay found them making tracks into the nearest bathhouse. Nick and Caroline had stopped to inquire about Nick’s uncle. Who knew where Pony Latham and the remaining drovers had taken off to? Sorrow washed over Houston. They’d had to bury four following the fight. Of the eighteen they’d left Texas with, only twelve had come through. Leaving the loyal men who’d given their all on the windswept prairie had crushed him. Now he’d have to face their loved ones. And Stoker.

Somehow, he’d have to find a way to live with their deaths. He already knew he’d bear the scars the rest of his life.

The first thing he’d do once he got back was make sure their families got the money due the drovers, including the bonus for making it to Dodge. Though that was precious little at best and couldn’t begin to fill the holes those men had left behind. He also meant to see what he could do for the Cherokees who came to their aid and turned the tide. Maybe Clay could suggest the perfect thing.

Pushing away the gloomy thoughts, Houston turned his attention to a hot bath, a good meal, and private time with his lady.

It took some doing to weave through the packed street and he was glad they’d left the chuck wagon parked at the edge of town until they could restock it for the return trip. Adding to the noise, scantily clad women hung over the balconies, yelling their prices to the men below. Nothing about them interested Houston. He had what he wanted right beside him. He moved closer to Lara to keep them from getting separated, aiming the horses toward the Dodge House Hotel. Tying up, he dismounted.

A gunshot erupted from the Silver Dollar Saloon across the street as he swung Lara from the mare. She jumped, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Let’s get you and Gracie inside, darlin’.” Houston put a protective arm around her. “We’ll see if they have some rooms.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired.” She wearily raised her eyes to his. Hers were the color of a green field under the morning sun. “And I need to feed Gracie.”

Though Lara had said very little about the trauma of killing Yuma, he knew she suffered. Over the past few days, he often caught her crying and staring into the distance. Not surprising, for he knew how much taking a life changed a person. Even one that needed taking.

A sign snagged Houston’s attention the minute they walked through the hotel door.

Rooms to let

$1 a night with bedbugs

$3 extra without

He put himself between the notice and Lara and strolled to the clerk behind the registration counter. “We’d like a room.”

The balding clerk glanced up and shook his head. “Sorry, we’re full up. Wish I had something, for the missus and babe’s sake. We don’t get many families in here. Mostly gamblers and the like. How long are you going to be in town?”

“Two weeks,” Houston replied. Lara had earned a good rest after what she’d been through, and he was going to see that she got it.

“Then I suggest Mrs. Malloy’s boarding house over on Oak Street. She runs one of the cleanest places in town. Doesn’t allow riffraff and it’s real quiet.”

“Just what we need. We’ve had a hard trip.” Houston sent Lara a smile and put his arm around her. “Tell me how to get there.”

A few minutes later, he led them away from the danger and noise.

At the quiet boarding house on Oak Street, Mrs. Malloy welcomed them with open arms, already smitten by Gracie’s smile. “I’ll keep this little darling anytime you want to get some rest.” The rotund woman with rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes kissed the babe’s cheek with gusto. Gracie buried her face against Lara, peeking from between her chubby fingers.

“I’m sure we’ll take you up on it.” Houston filed that tidbit away. “What we really need is a hot bath, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Mrs. Malloy said she’d have her hired boy bring a tub to their room and check the attic for a crib for Gracie. Then she led them up a narrow staircase to the second floor that opened into a long hallway. Unlocking the first door on the right, Mrs. Malloy swung it open. Lara gave a soft gasp at the pretty room, already bathed in the purple hues of twilight.

Houston couldn’t take his eyes off his wife, and seeing such a simple thing give her pleasure made his chest hurt. He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Malloy, I’m wondering if you’d have one more room for my wife’s younger brother. The boy requires supervision.”

“Why yes, Mr. Legend, I have a small room at the end the hall. Most guests want something larger, so it sits vacant most of the time. It only has a bed and chest. Will that do?”

Houston caught Lara’s quick nod. “It’ll be perfect.”

“Excellent. I’ll have a meal ready in an hour.” After giving them a few rules and laying out her schedule, the woman left.

Houston turned to Lara and kissed her temple. “I need to find your brothers and mine and tell them where we’re at. I’ll bring Henry back with me.”

“Thank you, Houston. I worry about him, you know.” Lara trailed her hand down his neck. “I’ll bathe Gracie and feed her. I expect she’ll go right to sleep. This little girl is tired.”

“I’ll be back soon.” He shot a longing glance toward the bed. The soft quilt covering it bore a large star in the center, making him think of home. He couldn’t wait to make love to Lara surrounded by that comfort. He reluctantly gave her and Gracie a kiss.

Before he reached the door, Lara called, “I love you, Houston. Please be safe.”

* * *

Safe and Dodge City didn’t go together. Gunshots erupted again the minute he turned onto Front Street. He tied the Appaloosa to the hitching rail in front of the first saloon. He’d work his way down the row of establishments. A café stood three doors down, and that looked like his best bet at finding Lara’s brothers. At least he’d better find them there and not sowing wild oats.

His would definitely be in a saloon. He strolled into the Spit Bucket but didn’t see them. No luck in the second either. The café did yield the Boone boys. They had only gotten halfway through their meal, so he grabbed a piece of chicken off Virgil’s plate, telling them he’d be back.

Houston strolled through six saloons before he spied his brothers and Clay coming from Sassy Sal’s. Lights from windows of the watering hole revealed their grim faces. The three paused on the boardwalk while Clay lit a cigarette.

Before Houston could call to them, a man raced from Sassy’s. “Clay Colby! Face me like a man and make your move!”

Clay Colby? The gunfighter who’d made a name for himself in Cimarron, New Mexico?

What the hell?

Disbelief and shock swept over Houston. Surely there was some mistake. Luke’s hand hovered above his Colt, ready to help. Sam watched through narrowed eyes, the set of his jaw meaning he was ready to do battle also. Houston waited anxiously for Clay to set the stranger straight.

Instead, and without turning to the man behind him, Clay grated out, “I got no quarrel with you, Leon.”

“I aim to make you pay. You gunned down my brother outside the St. James Hotel.” Shaggy like a wooly bear, Leon stalked to Clay. “Deny it and you’ll be a bald-faced liar.”

“I don’t deny I shot Clive, but, amigo, you oughta get your facts straight.” Clay calmly inhaled on the cigarette, bringing a red glow to the end. Smoke curled up from his mouth. “Your brother drew on me. A dozen witnesses saw him draw first. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m out of patience.” He pushed past the man and moved toward Sam and Luke.

Livid at being brushed off, Leon shouted, “Noon tomorrow, right here! We’ll settle this.”

“You’re as big a fool as your brother,” Clay said and kept walking.

“Coward!” Leon jerked out his six-shooter, aiming it at Clay’s back.

Before he could squeeze the trigger, Clay whirled, firing with the movement. The impact carried Leon backward, breaking the window at Sassy Sal’s. No one spared the man a glance.

Houston crossed the street. “What was that all about?” he asked Sam as Luke and Clay moved the dead man off the sidewalk.

Sam shook his head. “The crazy fool tried to start trouble inside but Clay refused to take the bait. We left. He followed.”

“I watched the last from across the street. Clay did all he could to avoid gunplay.” Houston laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Did you know he was Clay Colby?”

“Figured it out during the attack when his eye patch came off and he put it on the wrong eye. Houston, he’s a good man, no matter if he uses Angelo or Colby.”

Within minutes, a deputy marshal arrived and took Clay aside. The lawman listened while the head drover explained the circumstances, then he came to speak to Houston and his brothers.

Clay finally cleared of charges, they crossed to the café. Clay removed the patch. “I’m glad I don’t need this anymore. The damn thing itches like crazy.” He faced Houston. “I owe you an apology, boss. Didn’t mean to deceive you. Just wanted a job and not to be recognized.”

“I couldn’t have asked for a better hand. I took your measure and saw nothing to make me regret hiring you. Still don’t.” Houston stared into Clay’s lined face—lines that told of an honest man who just wanted to live in peace for however long he could. “I have a feeling you want the money from this drive for something specific.”

Clay nodded. “Have my eye on a piece of Texas land down in Hemphill County. I aim to hang up my gun, get married, start a family…if other men looking to make a name let me.”

Luke’s eyes flashed. “I haven’t had much luck myself. But we have to keep trying.”

The irony tore at Houston. Two honest men longing for a normal life, yet both wanted by the law. Clay had a price on his head, the same as Luke. He told them he and Lara were at Mrs. Malloy’s and he’d meet them back at the stockyards early the following morning.

Houston turned to go into the café when he heard someone call his name. The Vincents’ wagon pulled alongside and stopped. Nick and Caroline climbed down.

“Can we have a word?” Nick asked.

“Sure. Did you find your uncle?”

“That’s the thing, boss. He’s dead.” Nick took off his hat and crushed it between his hands. “Someone shot him a year ago.”

“The land is gone too,” Caroline sobbed, pushing a strand of blond hair from her face. “We got nowhere to go and I don’t like it here.”

“Mr. Legend, I wonder if we could go back to Texas with you,” Nick said. “Maybe I could work on your ranch or something until I save enough for my own land. If you don’t have room for us, I’ll find other work.”

Houston knew the cost to a man pride’s when his back was against the wall. He squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “Be glad to have you. Texas is a big place. We always have room and opportunities for two more. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.” Caroline sniffed the aroma coming from the café.

“Then go inside.” Houston handed Nick some money. “You’ll have more in the morning after I settle up my account at the stockyards. There’s enough there for a place to sleep.”

Tears bubbled in Caroline’s eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Legend. We’ll buy the food but we already have a place to sleep.” Her hand stole to Nick’s and she met her husband’s eyes, shutting Houston out.

They went inside and, after making sure Quaid and Virgil had a room, Houston collected Henry. On the way back to the boardinghouse, he noticed a light still on in a mercantile. He tapped on the glass of the locked door, and a clerk let him and Henry in.

A low hum vibrated just under Houston’s skin.

Tonight he would make love to Lara on a real bed.

And what he had in mind to do first would show Lara his heart.

* * *

Houston eased open the door to their room and stared, riveted. Lara was fast asleep with her head resting on the rim of the large, galvanized tub. A small table with remnants of a meal sat by the window. Gracie slept peacefully in the crib Mrs. Malloy had promised.

Lara looked for all the world like an angel who had fallen down from heaven. Freshly washed copper hair burnished with gold curled around her face, spilling to her shoulders. Houston laid down his packages, quietly removed his boots, and stole over. Bending, he placed his lips gently on hers and let his hand slide along her collarbone.

“Who are you, cowboy? Do I know you?” Lara murmured, slowly opening her eyes.

“I sure hope so, ma’am.” He touched her cheek and let his hand slide down the column of her throat. Brushing her hair aside, he dropped a kiss on the back of her neck. “I don’t deserve you, you know.”

Her green eyes darkened with desire. “You’d lose that debate.” She pulled him down by his shirt front. Her hungry kiss promised a night of raw passion.

Quickly removing his gun belt, Houston peeled off his clothes. Lara gave a contented sigh when he eased his aching body into the tub beside her. He wouldn’t give what he had now for all the money, fame, and fortune in the world. Lara took the cloth from him, lathered it with soap, and set to work on everything in sight, and a few things that weren’t.

Houston closed his eyes and let her remove all the grime, tiredness, and heavy sorrow. A deep hunger for Lara had risen the second she’d picked up the washcloth. He no longer felt weary down to his soul.

Tonight belonged to the two of them.

Every soap-slickened touch, every kiss upon his rinsed skin, every careless brush of her breasts against him brought a groan. He gently held them, testing the weight in his hands.

“I sure hope I have enough strength left in these muscles to repay you for all of this, ma’am,” he murmured lazily as a fire flamed inside him. “I seem to have turned to liquid. You have magic hands.”

“Do tell.” Lara’s breasts nuzzled his chest as she kissed the angry scar on his throat.

“Oh yes, I surely do.” He lifted her palm to his lips and kissed the tender flesh, then moved to each fingertip. Lara’s touch moved achingly slow under the water, down the flat planes of his chest and across his belly, then lower still.

Bold fingers.

Lazy, sweet strokes.

Tender whispered words against his ear.

Spirals of pleasure stole Houston’s ability to think. He sucked in a breath, reaching for one of the towels on the floor. Rising, he stepped out and secured it around his waist. “I’m going to carry you to bed, Mrs. Legend, and ravish you until morning. What do you have to say?”

Hunger flared in Lara’s eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She stood and he wrapped the towel around her, swept her up into his arms, and padded to the bed. He laid her on the Lone Star quilt. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

He went to the pile of clothes, reached into his vest pocket, and pulled out a small box.

Lara lay with her head propped on her arm, watching. “What are you doing?” Without a reply, he perched beside her on the bed. She sat up and frowned. “You’re acting very strange.”

He couldn’t stop the grin as he handed her his purchase. “I bought something special for you. I hope you like it, darlin’.” He enjoyed the surprise on her face, the widening of her eyes as she gasped at the gold wedding band. “Our hurried marriage left no time to shop,” he said.

A long silence filled the room. Panic made Houston’s heart pound. What if she didn’t like it? He leaned closer, trying to read her expression, but her face revealed nothing. She must hate it. He should’ve gotten something fancier. Maybe she thought him cheap. Finally, she plucked the band from a cushion of velvet and he noticed her trembling hand.

When she held the ring to the lamp next to the bed, a tear slid down her cheek. She glanced up and whispered, “You’re My Forever Always. Oh, Houston, it’s just so…so beautiful. I’ll cherish this for the rest of my life. Will you put it on me?”

He slipped it on her finger, thinking how fortunate that the mercantile owner had a side business in a corner of the store, inscribing on the gold he sold. “I went in to buy one with diamonds, but then I remembered what you said about preferring things simple. Besides, the gold sparkle seemed perfect for my wild Texas rose.”

Droplets clung to the tips of her long lashes as she stared into his eyes. “Diamonds mean nothing to me. They’re simply something a rich man can buy. But this…” Her voice broke. “This came from your heart and that’s priceless.”

“I also bought us both a new change of clothes…that is, if I ever let you out of the bed,” he growled.

“A nightgown perhaps?” She gave him a teasing look. Capturing her bottom lip between her white teeth, she tugged at the towel around his waist.

“You won’t be needing such a thing.” Dropping his towel, he tossed it aside along with hers. Houston crushed her to him and covered her lips hungrily. He loved this woman. She made his knees go weak and his pulse quicken with a teasing glance.

His fingers slid into her hair as their kiss deepened, tangling in the silky copper strands. Lara returned his kiss with equal passion, her touch fevered on his skin.

Lara broke the kiss with a request. “Lie back, my love.”

Curious, he did. She straddled his hips boldly and kissed every inch of his chest and belly. This shy wife of his had become a tigress.

When she severely tested his ability to hold himself in check, Houston whispered, “Thank goodness this bed seems sturdy. We’re about to give it a workout.”

With a quick roll, he put her beneath him and slid into her warmth. Settling into a rhythm, he left a trail of kisses down the long column of her neck to the hollow where her pulse beat. Lara responded with heated caresses up and down his back before gripping his naked buttocks. His ragged breathing was loud as his racing heartbeat pounded against his ribs. Feeling Lara’s muscles contract around him, he hurtled toward heaven. He’d remember this night forever.

Each touch, each kiss, each sound sent him closer to the release he craved.

In the midst of building passion, he whispered words of love in her ear. And when she fell over the edge, succumbing to mindless waves of pleasure, he kissed her, swallowing her cries of joy.

Afterward, they both lay shuddering, trying to breathe. As Lara rested against him, Houston trailed a finger up the curve of her shapely arm.

The long day, combined with his frisky wife, proved his undoing and he dozed off with his arm lying across Lara’s stomach. All of a sudden, she startled him with a poke in the ribs. “Are you asleep? We’ve got to get started.”

“I might’ve missed something but I thought we already did. Started how?”

“On another baby. I want your child to fill me. I want a little Houston Legend,” Lara whispered next to his ear as he flattened a palm across a swollen breast. “I want to watch him grow up strong just like his handsome father.”

A son? Good Lord, he wanted that. His dream of keeping the Legend name going for generations just might see fruition now. His children would watch over and protect the Lone Star, and each would learn chapter and verse about Stoker Legend, the man who’d founded it.

“We have the rest of our tomorrows, my wild Texas rose. I’m not going anywhere.” He was home in her arms. “You’re my forever always, and I’ll stay in your arms until the end of time.”

Just then, Gracie let out a string of babbles.

He chuckled. “Or at least until our daughter wakes up.”

Order Linda Broday’s next book
in The Men of Legend series

To Marry a Texas Outlaw

On sale November 2017