Authors: Connie Mason
“You know I’m a lawman. What you did was illegal.”
“But you just said you weren’t taking me to jail.”
“That’s right. Not now, anyway,” Colt acknowledged. “I tangled with Sheriff Bauer while in town yesterday and I wouldn’t put a dog in his keepin’. You’re not a hardened criminal, Sam, I can’t do that to you. And I don’t have time to take you to San Antonio.”
“What does all this mean?”
“Do you know Ida Scheuer?”
Sam nodded. “Her husband owns the grocery.”
“I rode into town this mornin’ to ask if you could stay with her till my job is finished in Karlsburg.”
“I couldn’t,” Sam demurred. “I know her husband and he—”
“He’s dead,” Colt revealed, “and Ida is runnin’ the store by herself. She’d be glad for the company and help, if you’ve a mind to once you’re well.”
“I didn’t know about her husband. I didn’t like him, but neither did I wish him dead. What happened?”
“I’ll let Ida tell you. If you’re up to it we’ll leave tomorrow.”
“It doesn’t change a thing, does it?” Sam asked slowly. “In the end I’ll go to prison, so I don’t reckon it matters where I stay. I no longer have a home. Mr. Steven Colter is the new owner of the Circle H, whoever he might be.”
“Don’t you own any dresses?” Colt asked, deliberately changing the subject. The sight of her in tight pants was provocatively distracting. He could imagine the attention and disapproval she would generate in a town like Karlsburg.
“Certainly, but I prefer pants. I enjoy the freedom.”
“I readily admit your round little bottom is enticin’, darlin’, but aren’t you afraid of attractin’ unwanted attention in town?”
“Don’t be crude,” Sam scolded, “and don’t call me darling. The townspeople are accustomed to seeing me wearing pants.”
She rose somewhat unsteadily to her feet. Her first hours out of bed were more exhausting than she would have thought. Now she needed some time alone to mourn the loss of the ranch and ponder her uncertain future. She must have been weaker than she thought, for her wobbly knees buckled and she swayed dangerously. Flexing his sleek muscles, Colt scooped her into his arms.
“Christ, you’re a lot of trouble,” he muttered, his slight burden hampering him not at all as he made his way to her bedroom. “You weigh hardly nothin’ at all.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as Colt held her suspended in his arms. “I usually don’t act like this, but you must admit I have sufficient reason.”
“Can I help you undress, darlin’?” he teased mischievously.
“I can manage. Put me down.”
“I was sure you could.”
They stared at one another for several tense minutes, sparks leaping between them and igniting some hidden place within Sam while a foreign emotion Colt never knew existed reached out to touch his heart. Neither recognized or acknowledged it.
Sam was the first to break the spell. “Colt, please put me down, I’d like to rest.”
“Sam, I’m damn sorry about the ranch,” he said after putting her on her feet.
“I’ll bet.”
“I mean it. I know it means a lot to you. But you have to understand the awkward position I’m in. You’ve committed a crime, I’m a lawman.”
“You could forget it and let me go.”
“Go where?”
“I… don’t know. Anywhere. I don’t want to go to prison.”
She looked so appealing, so vulnerable and so damn beautiful, prison was the last place Colt wished to see Samantha Howard. “Would you marry Logan if you were free to do so?”
A thoughtful pause ensued. “I…don’t think so.”
“If you weren’t such a damn innocent I’d—”
“You’d what?”
“Do this.” His head dipped to capture her lips.
Her mouth was incredibly soft and sweet. He kissed the full lower lip, tasting, savoring, while his hand shaped the supple curve of her bottom. Slow pleasure replaced anger as the source of Sam’s passion and she experienced true arousal for the first time in her life.
The tantalizing play of Colt’s mouth only heightened her desire. Now his lips were brushing wildfire over her eyelids, jawline, and throat, before returning to cling gently to her eager mouth. She was swallowing a moan when she felt his tongue touch her lower lip, then her teeth, until it grazed the tip of her tongue. Her mouth opened wider to allow him to plunder at will. Her heart beat furiously, and she wanted the kiss to go on forever. But it was not to be. Abruptly Colt broke contact.
“What you need is a firm hand on the reins to tame and master you, a real man in the saddle,” Colt growled, placing her on the bed and lowering himself atop her quivering form.
“You’re no different than any other woman in your position. Admit it, you’d do anythin’ to keep from goin’ to jail. Even beddin’ me. Are you really as innocent as you pretend? Have you bedded Vern Logan?”
“Why you rotten, ornery, braying jackass!” Sam cried. “If and when I want a man it won’t be someone as arrogant and lowdown mean as you. Why don’t you just take me to jail and get it over with? I can’t stand this waiting. My ranch is gone, my brother forced to run away, nothing matters anymore.”
“Darlin’, I could easily be persuaded to forget about the holdup,” Colt said, his voice a husky purr.
With the evidence of his desire pressing against her stomach, Sam knew exactly what he meant. The question was, did she want freedom badly enough to allow him use of her body? It was a question that, thankfully, she didn’t need to answer as Colt’s weight suddenly left her body.
“Christ, what in the hell is wrong with me?” he chided himself, tunneling long fingers through sun-bronzed hair. “Forget I said that. Forget everythin’ I just said. I never forced myself on an innocent woman before and I don’t aim to now. I’ve been around whores and cowpokes so long I’ve forgotten how to act with a decent woman. Go on, get some rest. I’ll wake you in time for supper.”
Too stunned to speak, Sam stared at Colt’s departing back. Never would she understand that man. He was ruggedly handsome yet dangerously wicked. Things he said and did shocked her, then he confused matters by turning around and contradicting everything. He was tough as nails, hardbitten, unscrupulous, and thoroughly disreputable. The perfect description of a Texas Ranger—a breed apart, feared by red man and white man alike. Yet…yet she sensed in him an odd gentleness, a crack in the thick shell surrounding his true self. What would it take to find the real person inside? Why did she even care? Eventually exhaustion claimed her and she slid uneasily into slumber.
While Sam slept, Colt paced, torn apart by conflicting emotions. He was a man not easily led from his chosen path. Life had dealt him many blows, but a will of steel and strength of character provided the means to survive situations that would have felled lesser men in his profession. Danger lurked around every corner, and the slightest deviation or distraction could cost him his life. Samantha Howard was definitely a distraction he could not afford.
S
am missed the ranch dreadfully. She missed the freedom, the pride of ownership, the space to do and be what she pleased. Not that Ida Scheuer wasn’t the kindest soul alive. Ida regarded Colt as something of a hero and would have agreed to anything he asked, but she truly liked Sam and a warm friendship developed. Ida knew only what Colt had told her—that Sam needed a place to stay since foreclosure had forced her off her property. She also had been informed that Sam had recently sustained some kind of injury but not its nature.
In return for room and board Sam offered to work in the store. The one thing Ida insisted upon that Sam didn’t like was that she wear a dress while working in the store. Ida considered pants an unlikely outfit for a young woman as comely as Sam.
Staring pensively out the window of the cheerful room she now called home, Sam recalled vividly the ride into town that day over two weeks ago. After what had nearly happened in her bedroom, Colt had been subdued to the point of surliness. The next morning, after a silent breakfast, Sam had packed her saddlebags with some of her belongings and wandered around outside waiting for Colt to close up the house. It was the only home she had ever known, and tears flowed down her cheeks at the thought of it being occupied by anyone but a Howard.
Colt either did not notice or did not care as he saddled their horses and helped her mount. He felt somewhat guilty not telling Sam that he was the new owner of the Circle H, but things between them were too tense right now for confidences. Besides, he knew she would insist on staying on even if she would be alone and unprotected.
They rode in silence for a time until Colt said, “I know the ride into town can’t be too comfortable for you so we’ll take it slow and easy.”
“Don’t worry over me. I can keep up. Are you sure Ida Scheuer won’t mind a boarder?”
“I told you yesterday I already talked to her. She’s lookin’ forward to havin’ you.”
“Will you stay mere too?”
“No. I spoke to the bartender at the Palace Saloon and he said the owner often lets rooms. The owner was out of town but will be back today. I’ll inquire if he has any rooms available.”
“You mean she.”
“What?”
“The owner of the Palace Saloon is a woman. Her name is Dolly Douglas. She bought it from the previous owner over a year ago. I’m sure she’d be happy to accommodate you,” Sam said suggestively.
“Dolly Douglas? Blond, blue eyes, late twenties?”
“You … you know her?”
“Damn right I do.” Colt grinned with devilish delight. “Me and Dolly go back a long ways. Well, I’ll be hanged,” he said, shoving his hat back on his tawny mane. “Last I heard she went to California to strike it rich. If she owns the saloon she must have hit pay dirt. Wonder what brought her to Karlsburg?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Sam returned with a hint of sarcasm. “You’ll have to ask Miss Douglas. You two will have a lot of … catching up to do.”
After that the conversation had lagged until they reached town. Just as Colt had predicted, Ida welcomed her warmly, got her settled in the room she now occupied, and allowed her a few days rest before acquainting her with the store. Before long Sam settled down to a daily routine. Though she tried to deny it, some devil inside her made her wish she could have witnessed Colt’s reunion with the infamous Dolly.
After leaving Sam with Ida, Colt continued on to the Palace Saloon, his thoughts taking him back several years to the small Texas border town of Nocogdoches. He had met Dolly Douglas in the Outpost Saloon where she worked as hostess, and their mutual attraction soon evolved into a comfortable relationship that provided not only sexual gratification but good companionship as well. But their association died of natural causes when Colt’s restlessness took him off in another direction. When he returned months later he learned Dolly had gone to California to make her fortune.
Their reunion was all Sam had imagined, and more. Colt found Dolly in the nearly deserted saloon giving instructions to the bartender about the night’s festivities. She had changed little during the years, Colt thought warmly. Still blond, all the curves in the right places, still lovely, looking not a day older than when he had seen her five years ago. As if sensing his presence, Dolly slowly turned in Colt’s direction. She searched his face for the space of a heartbeat, then squealed in delight.
“Colt! By God, you’re a sight for sore eyes! I reckoned if I sat in one place long enough you’d show up.” Slowly, provocatively, she walked to within inches of him, then hurled herself into his open arms.
“You’re lookin’ mighty spruce, Dolly.” Colt grinned cheekily as he hugged her tight.
“And you’re still a handsome devil,” Dolly twinkled in return. “As well as somewhat of a rogue, if memory serves. How many hearts have you broken since I saw you last?”
“Who’s countin’?” Colt shrugged with exaggerated casualness. “‘Sides, none were as pleasin’ as you.”
“Sit down, honey,” Dolly said, leading him to a table at the back of the room. “Let me buy you a drink while we catch up on old times.” She motioned to the bartender. “What brings you to a dump like Karlsburg?”
“I might ask the same of you. The last I heard you were in California makin’ your fortune. What happened, did you run out of men?”
Instead of taking offense, Dolly laughed raucously.
“Still the same old Colt. Would you believe I got married?” The news seemed to stun Colt and he choked on his drink, bringing on another round of laughter.
“The poor bastard up and died after he struck it rich in the gold mines. I hightailed it back to Texas with more money than I thought existed. I heard about the Palace from a friend, liked what I saw, and bought it. Now it’s your turn. What’s occupied your time since we parted five years ago? We had some good times, didn’t we, honey?” she sighed wistfully.
“The best,” Colt agreed. “But nothin’ so excitin’ happened to me. I bummed around Texas for a while, tried my hand at bounty huntin’, fought Indians, and finally turned lawman. Cap’n Ford recruited me for the Texas Rangers.”
“Lawman! You?” guffawed Dolly, her eyes sliding to the badge adorning Colt’s broad chest. “You’ve come in answer to Mayor Mohler’s plea? You’re here because of the Crowder gang?”