Eighteen

The livery was quiet when Roan stepped inside. The heavy air carried the recognizable stench of blood. The hair on his neck twitched. He made his way to the gray mare’s cubicle, and his insides twisted.

Shadow lay on blood-soaked hay.

He scrambled to her, his chest heaving with the need to breathe. The mare whinnied and looked up at him. He watched, his stomach lurching as she struggled to her feet. Tenuous relief that maybe she might not be hurt too bad rustled through him like dry autumn leaves. Then he saw a man’s body on the red-tinged hay, and his stomach clenched over again.

The old stable owner, Jessup, lay faceup. His long white beard was matted with bits of hay and blood. He was breathing but unconscious, a bullet hole in his upper chest. Did the town have a doctor?

A sudden recollection of a sign hanging above the general store struck him. He hated leaving Jessup alone, but there was no other way. He took Shadow outside and tied her there so she wouldn’t trample Jessup, and Roan ran for help. A minute later, he took the stairs attached to the side of the store two at a time and pounded on the door.

A weary man with bloodshot eyes answered the knock. “May I help you?”

“Jessup’s been shot at the livery. He’s in a bad way,” Roan explained to the doctor, a man who looked just a few years older than himself.

The doctor jerked from his stupor. “That’s my father. I’ll get my bag.”

In no time, they were back at the livery, and the doctor knelt over his father. “His breathing’s shallow. Do you think you can help me carry him to the office?”

“Of course.”

The doctor lifted his father under the shoulders, and Roan took his feet. A weary cowboy who’d just ridden in dropped the reins of his horse and held the door for them. The doctor told him the price for boarding and to bring the money to his office. They carefully made their way up the stairs. Inside, they laid the old man on a bed.

Roan stepped back to give the doctor room. “Do you think he’ll make it?”

“Anyone’s guess.” Doc probed the wound. “My father has a bad heart.” He wiped the blood from his hand and glanced up. “Bullet went through, so that’s good. Damn the people of this town!”

“What exactly is going on?”

“A bunch of folks have been grumbling ever since the Texas Rangers came in here and quelled the old mobs. There’s talk they intend to take back the property they lost and get revenge for family members who either died or were sent to prison. Not sure who’s in charge, if anyone.” Doc wiped his eyes. “All I know is that there’s a war going on here and no one is safe.”

Roan told him how close he had come to dying, and about Mose. “I’m looking for the ones responsible. I thought entering this horse race would help me find them. My mare was in the stables, and it looks like your father surprised someone messing with her.” Probably trying to either kill or lame Shadow.

But why? To keep Roan from the race? A very likely possibility. Someone must’ve recognized him. That’s the only thing that made sense.

This keg of worms had become much bigger than Roan had thought. And the pressure to make sure Marley stayed safe sat heavy on his chest.

Doc reached for a stethoscope and listened to his father’s heart. “The best thing you can do is forget what happened and go home. Nothing is worth dying over.”

“Pardon me, but a few things are,” Roan answered softly. As frustrated as Marley made him sometimes, she was definitely one person he’d die for. Mose had been the other. He scrubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what to do with my horse. They’ll kill her if I leave her at the livery. And I can’t guard both the animal and my…wife…at the same time.” Somehow Roan didn’t think she’d be upset by the premature title.

“I have a small barn back of here where I keep mine. You’re welcome to use it.”

“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that offer. By the time they figure out where she is, I’ll be gone. I sure hope your father pulls through.” Roan said good night and left, saying he’d be back to check on Jessup at daybreak.

He hurried back to the stables for Shadow. Thank goodness the mare was okay. He climbed the ladder to the loft. Stepping over sprawled bodies, he collected his things. Their snores were fit to raise the dead, and he was glad he didn’t have to sleep there. Backing down the ladder, he got Shadow. Scanning the darkness for trouble, he took her to Doc’s barn. Since over an hour had passed since he’d left the hotel and Marley would be worried, he wasted no time in returning to the Latimer. He tapped lightly on the door of the presidential suite.

“You’re back!” Marley put a Colt back into a holster she’d strapped on and slid the bolt behind him. Whirling, she threw her arms around his neck. “I was so worried about you.”

Roan dropped his saddlebags and drew her trembling body against him. “I’m fine. Just had some trouble at the livery.”

Her dark eyes widened. “What happened?”

“Let’s sit down.” Once seated on the settee, Roan told her about finding Jessup, taking him to the doctor, and about moving his mare. “I’m not sure Jessup will make it. I hate that he got hurt trying to protect Shadow. It seems like my fault, even though I know in my head that it isn’t.”

“You can’t blame yourself. What about Shadow? Did they hurt her?”

“No, thank God.” He fell into the dark-brown pools of her eyes. They were so large and mysterious, showing the depth of caring and concern for someone she’d briefly met. He smoothed her furrowed brow.

She snuggled against him. “You weren’t there to help or stop it, and that eats at you. But what happened is not your fault. Did the doctor know who might’ve done it?”

“No, he just said that there’s a war going on here, and people are trying to take back what was stolen from them when the Texas Rangers came.” He was silent a moment, thinking about Doc’s words. “You know, maybe it’s not just one person in charge of the riders. It could be several, or no one at all.”

“Maybe Will Gentry,” Marley said softly, chewing her lip. “Now that you’ve heard his voice and know he was there the night they killed Mose, he could very well be the ringleader.” She shivered. “I can’t get over the way he stared.”

“I wish I knew.” And Roan wished he knew where the man had disappeared to after leaving the tent. A man should always keep an enemy close.

“Marley, there’s something I want to say.” Roan took her hand. When she opened her mouth to speak, he stopped her. “You’ve spoken your piece. Now it’s my turn. I do care for you, and the depth of my feelings shakes the stuffing from me. But—you have to give me a chance to go at my own pace, find my way, and make my own decisions.”

Her lip trembled. “At home, I have to make decisions in the time it takes to blink, because the children are always flying at me fast and furious. But I never, ever want this to be a problem between us. If you’ll be patient, I’ll try to change.”

Roan kissed her temple. “I’m a patient man, and the reward will be worth the wait. Just slow down a teensy bit and enjoy the ride.”

“I’ll try hard.”

“That’s all anyone can do. I intend to do some changing of my own. For one thing, I care for you more than anyone I’ve ever met. I aim to win this horse race and put that money back for our future. If you eventually want to build a life with me.”

“Oh, Roan.” Tears came into her eyes. “I’ve dreamt of you saying those words. Of course I want that. More than anything when the time is right.”

“When that time has come, I’ll propose.” He barked a laugh. “Unless your father strips the hide from my body after he finds out you followed me.”

“He’d better not.” Marley rested her hand on his vest, her soft breath warm against his neck. “I’m so glad we have a future.”

“I’m going to show your father that I’m more than a beaten down drifter. All these plans will take some time to put in motion though.” He tightened his hold around her. She was a priceless treasure. “You’re my Texas Star.”

She tilted her face for a kiss. He pressed his lips to hers, counting his blessings. She was the woman he’d searched for and finally found one cold fall morning. Or rather, she’d found him. It didn’t really make much difference.

They were together and had the future to look forward to. And no one was going to stop him from making that come true.

Marley Rose McClain was his. He loved the sound of that.

He broke the kiss, and she rested her head against him. “If I was any happier, I’d burst. You like me. You really like me.”

“Yes, I do.” The timing could’ve been better. He should’ve waited until he got back home. But some things seemed to take their own course.

“What did you think of the Wheelers?”

“They appeared nice.” Her words were slow and halting. “But they were too nice, too friendly. Too much. I don’t know if I trust them.”

“I felt the same way. A stranger coming over and inviting us to share their table was more than odd.” He was glad that Marley shared his feelings. “The whole thing seemed off.”

“For me too. I’ve been asking myself why he invited us to their table. He gave us some much-needed information. We gave them nothing.” She drew little circles on the sprinkling of fine hair at his wrist. “Well, they bear watching.”

“Absolutely.” Roan shifted her and took out a pocket watch Duel had loaned him. It was getting late. “When is your shooting competition tomorrow?”

“Nine in the morning.”

“You’d best get to bed, or you’ll be bleary-eyed and miss the target.”

Marley moved from his embrace. “Aren’t you coming? Won’t you sleep in the bed?”

“No.”

“I’ll give you plenty of room, and you can sleep on top of the covers. At least you’ll rest.”

“No, I won’t betray Duel’s trust,” he said gently, running a finger across her cheek. “I’m going to do this right, and when I do get into bed with you, I’ll belong there. The sofa over there will do fine.”

Marley pouted. “Why do you have to be so honor bound?”

“Would you have me any other way?” He nibbled behind her ear.

“No. I sort of like that about you.” Her lips curved in a teasing grin. “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“You seem to have confused me with young Matt.” But he found the prospect of one of her stories enticing. He tucked a curl behind her ear and returned her grin. “What kind would you tell me?”

She gazed into his eyes. “Once there was a young maiden who’d waited her entire life for a handsome prince to come along. She waited and waited and waited. Then one day she found him lying beside the road almost dead.” Marley drew a fingertip slowly down his shirt front. Her voice grew breathless.

Roan had a hard time reining in his thoughts. He hungered to forget his noble intentions, to pull her luscious body against him and kiss her until they ran out of breath. He yearned to have her naked curves beside him and touch all of her silky skin.

He was tempted. Oh Lord, he was tempted!

“And then what happened?” he asked hoarsely, catching her fingertip and kissing it.

“She took him home and patched him up and told him all of her secrets. He called her his Texas Star, and his kisses left her as weak as thin porridge.” She moved closer to nibble on his ear. “The prince kept saying that it wasn’t the right time, teasing her with promises. Then one day evil men came and…” Her voice broke, and she got to her feet. “This is silly. Forget bedtime stories.”

“They’re not silly.” Roan stood and took her in his arms. “One day your story will have a happy ending.”

Marley bunched his vest in her grip. “Promise?”

“I promise. I’m not going to let Gentry or anyone steal your happiness.” They were not going to make her story end in tragedy if he had anything to do with it. Fairy tales always had to have a happy ending. That was the rule.

He lowered his mouth to hers, and the kiss stole his thoughts. Need rushed through him, burning a path to the throbbing center of his being. Marley was the woman he’d looked for all his life. She was as imperfect as he, but the kindness inside her shone like a beacon.

She yanked his shirt from his pants and slid her soft hands underneath, her warm palms searing his skin, flattening across his muscles like a hot brand. “I want you, Roan Penny,” she mumbled against his mouth.

Damn, he wanted her too. Like a man with a fever, he fumbled with the buttons of her dress, not satisfied until he touched her satiny skin. He let his fingers drift down the slender curve of her neck, on down to the sloping swell of her chest. He stopped where the flesh descended to her sweetly curved breasts. He wouldn’t touch her there even though he wished he could, more than anything on earth.

It took every bit of will power to keep from carrying her to bed and plunging himself inside her.

Roan ended the kiss and stepped away. “I can’t do this to you, Marley.” His breath became ragged. “I won’t take something before you’re ready. I want to do this right,”

“I know.” She buttoned up her dress. “It doesn’t make the wanting go away though.”

No, it didn’t. His swollen need testified to that.

Marley went into the bedroom and returned with a blanket. “Thank you for being here. I’m glad I’m not alone.”

Roan’s hands brushed hers as he took the offering. The brief touch was like raw, jagged lightning. With luck, one day he wouldn’t have to stop. Then he’d find paradise in Marley’s arms, and it would be right.

* * *

Midnight came and Marley had yet to close her eyes. Her mind whirled, remembering the kisses that had stolen her sanity. She wondered if this was the way her parents felt around each other. Was she in love or just wanting something that she didn’t have to share with anyone?

All she knew was that she didn’t want to live without Roan. She couldn’t.

She flopped onto her side, facing the wall. A noise alerted her, the faint sound of the window raising. Roan must’ve gotten too warm and needed air. Yes, that must be it.

Easing back to lie faceup, she spotted a dark form crawling over the windowsill. Her stomach clenched. Marley slid her hand under the pillow until she found the cold steel of her gun. She thought about crying out for Roan, but then the intruder might shoot him.

The intruder stole silently toward her.

One step. Pause. Then another. She could do this.

Marley lay perfectly still. Watching. Waiting.

Just as the dark-clothed man reached to clamp a gloved hand over her mouth, she pulled the trigger. An explosion burst from the end of her Colt.

A yell of anguish like that from a wounded animal filled the bedroom. Marley leaped from bed, backed up against the wall, and fired again.

Roan ran from the sitting room like a dark ghost with his gun drawn. He got off a shot before he was tackled. Both men went down with a grunt.

The horrible sound of fists colliding with bone and muscle filled the room.

They crashed onto the bed, grunting and hitting each other. The iron bedstead collapsed to the floor. She couldn’t tell who was winning. She had to see.

Marley fumbled with a match and got the lamp lit in time to watch the intruder jump out through the window. A shower of glass and wooden shards from the window frame flew across the room.

Something sharp pierced her neck, but she paid the stinging pain no mind. She ran to where Roan was standing, his breath raspy. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Are you?”

“I don’t think so. Thank God he didn’t kill you.” She walked into his embrace and clung to him. “He came here to get me. I was awake, and when his gloved hand reached out to cover my mouth, I fired. I’m glad you were here.”

“Me too. You’re shaking.” He leaned her back to look at her. “You have a shard of glass in your neck. Hold still.”

“I felt something sharp, but I was more worried about you.” She stood still while he carefully pulled it out and pressed a handkerchief to the small cut.

“You need a bandage.” He grabbed a towel from the washstand. “Hold this to the wound for now until we can do better.”

“Thank you, Roan.”

Just then, voices sounded in the hallway and fists pounded on the door. “What’s going on in there?”

Another voice joined that one. “Open up.”

“We’ve got company. Make yourself decent,” Roan said. “I’ll get the door.”

Marley slid her arms into a wrapper and threw her shawl around her shoulders. In the light, she stared at blood on the pieces of broken window frame. Their shots had hit him. Good. Maybe he’d think twice before coming after her again. Before she could see more, people in all stages of undress poured into the sitting room, all talking at once.

Roan raised a hand and hollered, “Pipe down.”

When they lowered their voices, he said, “My wife and I are fine. We shot at an intruder but he got away. Thank you all for coming, but you need to go back to your rooms and let us deal with this.”

Just then the sheriff waded through the mass of people. “What happened here?”

“An intruder, Sheriff Coburn,” said one man.

A woman with rags tied in her hair huffed. “He almost ravished the lady. She barely escaped with her life.”

“No, it was a robbery,” a bowlegged man in a nightshirt insisted.

Marley hid a grin. Everyone seemed to have their own version of exactly what had taken place. Roan appeared out of sorts, a dark thundercloud standing in the center of the dimly lit room. But then she guessed he had a right. Just when they were trying to keep their heads down and not draw attention to themselves, this had to happen.

The sheriff narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t I know you?”

“No,” Roan answered. “I came in for the fair.”

“From where?”

“The Aces ’n’ Eights Ranch.”

“You’re not Duel McClain, and don’t tell me you are.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I work there.”

“Got a name, mister?” Sheriff Coburn asked.

Roan put his arm around Marley’s waist. “Jack Durham. This is my wife, Mariah. We were sleeping when an intruder came through the window. We fired at him.”

“Which one of you shot?”

“Both of us.” Roan met Marley’s eyes. She thought she saw pride in his gaze. “My wife is an excellent shot. She’s going to win the shooting competition in the morning.”

“We wounded him, Sheriff,” Marley said. “He left bleeding.”

Coburn frowned. “Why would he want to do you harm, Mrs. Durham?”

“You’ll have to ask him. I have no enemies that I know of.” Marley didn’t lie there. “It’s possible he got the wrong room by mistake—maybe he was after someone else. Maybe he was inebriated and didn’t know where he was. You know how drinking men are. Or maybe he was a thief looking for something to steal. You’ll have to take it up with him.” She met Roan’s shadowed gaze. “I’m just glad for my husband. My Jack sent him flying through the window.”

“So your husband threw him out? I thought you said the culprit leaped through the glass.”

“Wait just a cotton-picking minute,” Roan yelled. “We’re the victims here. Don’t put this on us. And I suggest you treat my wife with respect.”

Marley wanted to slap the lawman, instead she settled for a scathing glance. “A poor choice of words on my part. I assure you, the assailant went through under his own power.”

The lawman shooed everyone out of the suite and examined the blood in the bedroom. She noticed how Coburn gave kept giving Roan odd looks. Though Roan was careful to stay in the shadows, the sheriff was going to figure out his identity any second unless they got Coburn out soon.

Marley stepped forward, putting a hand to her forehead. “Can’t this wait, Sheriff Coburn? The hour is late, and we’re both competing in the morning. I’m simply exhausted after my ordeal, and it’s left me shaken. You can probably pick up a lot of clues outside. I’m sure he left a blood trail.”

Coburn studied her for a good minute before murmuring, “I suppose, madam.”

“Oh thank you, Sheriff. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.” She gave him a wide smile. “After all, the room isn’t going anywhere, and I don’t think the intruder will return. At least not tonight.”

Somewhere, the man was tending to his wound—or wounds—whichever it turned out to be. She wasn’t a vengeful person by nature, but she prayed he was in a whole lot of pain.

At last the sheriff left. Roan pulled her against him. “We’ll close off this room, and you’ll sleep in the sitting room with me.”

“Roan, do you suppose that was Gentry or someone he hired to come after me?”

He kissed her temple. “It’s possible, but we can’t know for sure.”

Cold fear shimmied along her spine at how close the assailant had come to taking her. And doing what, once he did?

“If I’d been asleep I might not have heard him.”

He chuckled. “You weren’t joking about knowing how to use a sidearm. I wish I could’ve seen the look on his face when you pulled the trigger. I don’t feel a bit sorry for him. He deserved what he got.”

“I hope he doesn’t die.” She glanced up at Roan. “I can’t bear the thought that I—we—might’ve killed someone.” A thought sent icy fingers along her spine. “Roan, do you think the Wheelers might’ve tipped the assailant off? Maybe that’s why they invited us to their table.”

Roan’s jaw twitched. “It’s very possible. There is only one presidential suite, and I heard you tell them that’s the room you have.”

“Oh, Roan, I led that nasty intruder right to us.”

In one swift motion, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the sofa. Wrapping the blanket around her, he sat down beside her. “Try not to think about it.” He reached into his vest pocket. “Here’s the name of that publisher you wanted. I got it earlier when I was in the mercantile. Forgot to give it to you.”

Excited, Marley held the paper next to the soft glow of the lamp. Harper Bros. Publishing. They were looking for all kinds of stories of all lengths, and they promised an answer back within three weeks. Was it possible that she could do this?

Possible that her dream could come true at last?

“When we get back to the Aces ’n’ Eights, you send them that book of stories and illustrations you did for Matt right away. Won’t you?” Roan asked.

She chewed her lip. “Yes.”

He must’ve sensed her fears in her hesitation. “Marley, I know it’s scary but you have a gift. Promise me you will do this. You’ll not put it off.”

“I’ll send them my work.” She told Roan about Granny Jack’s husband and how he’d stood up to the gang back then and rooted them out alone. “I’m going to start on a book filled with the things she’s told me over the years. That will be my gift to her at Christmas.”

“You’ll make her very happy.” Roan stretched out his long legs and put his arm around Marley, drawing her to him.

As he tucked the blanket securely around her, she didn’t think she’d ever felt more cherished. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “I like being married to you, Jack Durham.”

He kissed her forehead. “Tell me a story, sugar dumpling.”