Wed To The Texas Outlaw. Carol Arens

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СКАЧАТЬ It would take some doing to make him appear vulnerable.

      “I’ll need to act the nag,” she whispered in his ear. “Will anyone recognize you?”

      She worried that someone might have seen his Wanted poster. If they did, the scheme would be exposed.

      He shrugged. “Probably not. It’s been some time since that broadsheet’s been spread about. Folks forget.”

      Chances were, that would be true of most men, but Boone was quite tall, his face striking in its handsomeness and, to her mind, unforgettable. Her cousin, Rebecca, liked to call Lantree her big blond Viking. Naturally the same could be said of Boone.

      “Come along, brother Stanley,” she said with a wink at her pretend sibling. “Let the theatrics begin.”

      “I wish you’d take this more earnestly, Miss Winston,” he chided.

      “That’s ‘Mrs. Walker.’ I know you’re worried about me, but between you, my husband and the deputy, I could not be safer if I were locked in a vault.”

      Boone led her up the stairs of the boardwalk. She gazed down at her scuffed boots, at the sad sag of her faded brown skirt while she gathered the inspiration to play her part.

      The painted sign beside the mercantile door indicated that they had come during business hours but the door was locked.

      Boone rapped on the wood.

      “You’ll have to pound harder than that,” Melinda said in a raised voice while she rolled her eyes.

      Her homesteader husband frowned. She hoped that he remembered that she was only acting at being a nag. “I declare, you’ve grown weak from all that alcohol. Soon as we settle into our homestead, I’m burying the bottle.”

      Boone actually gasped.

      “Here, let me do it.” She nudged him aside then pounded her fist on the door. Maybe she ought not to have flashed him a smile.

      All at once the door opened and they were greeted by a scowling man with a drooping mustache that hid his lips.

      “Don’t you know to stay off the streets, today of all days?”

      He hustled them inside, cast a cautious glance at Billbro, then shut the door and shoved the bolt closed.

      “Looks like rain by sundown, but I can’t see why that should keep us off the street now,” Boone commented.

      “Take off your hat indoors, Mr. Witherleaf.” Melinda cast her husband a scowl then turned it on Stanley. “And you, too, brother. Don’t behave like a heathen.”

      Her “relatives” looked startled by her bossiness when they ought to be acting as though her bitter tongue was commonplace. Later on, some lessons in role-playing would be in order.

      Still, she would have to allow the men some leeway. Clearly, they had not grown up as she and Rebecca had, always trying to keep one step ahead of Mama’s restrictions and at the same time avoid undue punishment.

      “You’re new to town.” The storekeeper wagged his head long and slow.

      “I’m Boone Witherleaf. This is my wife, Melinda, and Melinda’s brother, Stanley.”

      The name Witherleaf had been assigned by Mathers and could not have been more absurd. In Melinda’s opinion, calling Boone “Witherleaf” did nothing to diminish his natural aura of power.

      Perhaps her nagging would seem more effective if he would hang his head lower.

      “You always neglect to introduce the dog.” She knelt down and snuggled the big hairy head against her bosom. “Billbro is as much a part of the family as you are.”

      Boone coughed.

      “We’re taking over the old Ramsey place,” he said to the merchant.

      “The Ramsey place? If you want my advice, you’ll turn tail and run.”

      “Why would we?” he asked. “And why should we stay off the streets?”

      “I reckon you’ll find that out soon enough. I’m Edward Spears, by the way. This is my store, for what it’s worth anymore.”

      “A pleasure.” Boone extended his hand in greeting, so did Stanley. “Might you be the brother of the livery owner in Buffallo Bend?”

      “One and the same.”

      “Oh, he’s a fine man.” Boone nodded his head. “Well, I reckon we’ll need dry goods and a few tools, grain for planting.”

      “This time of year?” Spears asked. Melinda suspected that he was smirking under his massive mustache.

      “Please excuse my husband. He’s a greenhorn through and through.” She stood. Hands on hips, she faced Boone. “I told you, planting is done in the spring.”

      “You’ll need firewood, though. Trees are scarce out that way. And a gun. I notice you aren’t carrying, but if you’re set on staying you’ll need one.”

      “If you really think it necessary.” Boone shrugged. “I reckon I’ll purchase that, as well.”

      Actually there were a dozen weapons packed at the bottom of the wagon.

      It was good to see Boone handle the weapon Spears placed in his hand as though it were a live snake.

      Mr. Spears had yet to say why they should be off the streets today more than any other day. Clearly, everyone else in Jasper Springs was of the same mind.

      Boone withdrew a large roll of money from his pocket, making sure the storeowner got a good look at it.

      “I’ll take the dog outside for a moment,” she announced.

      Naturally, she would be forbidden to do so, but her intention was to find out why.

      “I wouldn’t, ma’am. Not without protection.”

      “Why ever not?”

      “Olfin King was buried today.”

      “I’m sure that’s very sad.” She touched her throat, pretending that it was. But, really, that meant one less outlaw to be a threat to Boone. What a shame that according to the notes, Olfin King was the least villainous of them all.

      “I reckon not so sad. You can bet the folks of Jasper Springs are celebrating behind their bolted doors. After you’ve been here a while, you’ll understand why.”

      “That seems coldhearted,” Stanley observed.

      “What happened to Olfin King?” Boone asked.

      Yes, to her mind, that was an important bit of information.

      “He got himself shot in the leg a few weeks ago. The doc tried to heal it but infection set in. The Kings buried Olfin this morning. Hate to say so, but I reckon it won’t be long СКАЧАТЬ