Authors: Maureen Child
Tentatively Shelly raised her hand and stroked the line of his stubbly jaw. Then she smoothed that errant lock of hair off his brow. His smile warmed her soul, and for the first time in more years than she cared to think about, Shelly knew she was loved. Slowly she stepped into the circle of his arms and gratefully felt his strength close around her.
“That's right, Dave," she whispered, and laid her head on his chest.
#
Pike Dexter leaned over his smiling wife and gave her a careful kiss. Then, under Serena's proud gaze, the outlaw picked up his son and stared down into the little face so much like his own.
Miranda and Shelly tiptoed out of the room and closed the door after them.
"When did Pike get here?" Miranda asked.
"Just a couple of minutes before you." Shelly crossed to the front door, opened it, and stepped out onto the boardwalk. When Miranda joined her, Shelly asked quietly, "Where'd you go for so long today?"
“The tank."
Shelly nodded absently and looked off toward the restaurant, a half smile on her face.
"Shelly?" Miranda waited until her friend turned to look at her. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, Miranda. I'm fine." The same secretive half smile curved her lips again. "Why?"
"Well…" Miranda shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. You just seem… different."
Shelly chuckled and stepped down off the boardwalk. "Maybe I am different."
"Shelly, what's going on?"
Instead of answering the question, Shelly asked one of her own. "Was Jesse with you today?"
Miranda's jaw snapped shut, but she felt the incriminating rush of blood to her cheeks.
“I thought so." Shelly grinned and turned toward the restaurant.
Miranda stepped into the street, confusion written plainly on her features. “No lectures or warnings this time? Are you sure you're all right?"
Shelly looked over her shoulder and grinned. “I'm fine. And no more warnings. You're not a little girl, Miranda. I'm sorry if I treated you like one."
“No, you didn't."
"Yeah, I did." Suddenly Shelly turned, came back to Miranda, and took both her friend's hands in hers. "But today I found something that I thought was gone forever."
"What?"
“I found me again." Shelly's dark brown eyes seemed lit from within and her cheeks were flushed a lovely pink. “The old me. The one before Slick came along."
"I don't understand, Shelly."
"You don't have to." She squeezed Miranda's hands. “I'm just tryin' to tell you to go ahead after what it is you want. If it's Jesse, then I hope you get him."
"Don't even talk about Jesse…"
"What's wrong?"
Concern and worry replaced the happiness in the other woman's face and Miranda immediately regretted speaking. “Nothing. He just made me angry."
Shelly nodded, convinced. “It'll be all right, Miranda. He loves you. Anybody could see it in his face when he looks at you."
Miranda knew better, but she didn't want to upset Shelly again.
“I have to go now," the dark-haired woman said quickly. "But I have something important to tell you later, all right?"
Miranda nodded and smiled hesitantly as she watched Shelly hurry off down the street. Glancing toward the corral where she'd last seen Jesse, Miranda felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to go down there and finish telling him exactly what she thought of him.
Instead she turned and walked back to her darkened cabin alone.
Chapter 16
Birdwell stood just outside the stable and silently congratulated himself.
Just as he'd thought, Jesse Hogan was no outlaw.
Birdwell rubbed his sore knuckles and snorted. It hadn't been very difficult to convince the boy that he should do the right thing by Miranda. In fact, Birdwell was fairly sure that Hogan had about already made up his mind to many her. He'd just needed a little extra "push" in the right direction.
The big man slowly straightened his blue-and-red checked flannel shirt and tucked it into his well-worn, baggy black pants. He'd settled things with Hogan; now all that was left was to deal with Miranda.
Birdwell grimaced and smoothed his full beard thoughtfully.
He looked down the length of the narrow street and squinted toward Miranda's cabin. Overhead, ribbons of clouds scuttled across the moon, leaving uncertain, dappled patches of light across the false-fronted, weathered buildings of the-tired old town. Birdwell's gaze fastened on the flickering lamplight showing between the folds of Miranda's curtains.
He wasn't looking forward to the coming scene. Miranda could be downright stubborn when she wanted to be. And besides, he didn't relish talking to her about her and Jesse and what they'd been up to that afternoon. Birdwell shuddered. Just the thought of his little Miranda and some fella… Deliberately he emptied his mind of the disturbing images.
He stiffened his spine and inhaled deeply. Squaring his broad shoulders, the older man marched steadily down the boardwalk, straight into the teeth of the most important battle he would ever fight.
#
“I will not!"
“Miranda…" Birdwell's thunderous roar made Miranda's ears ring.
“It doesn't matter what you say, Birdwell. I will not marry a man simply because I might be carrying his child!"
Birdwell flinched and rubbed one beefy hand across his mouth. "Like I already told him, I don't want to know about any of that."
"'Then why are you here?" She pulled the belt of her pink silk robe tighter, crossed her arms, and waited, tapping her foot. For over an hour she'd listened to the man she considered a second father spout the most ridiculous notions. And he had the nerve to tell her that Jesse not only agreed with him, but had actually planned most of this on his own.
If that were true, why wasn't Jesse here himself to propose? She knew why! He was probably lying unconscious somewhere. She'd seen Birdwell "talk" to suitors before.
“I already told you that, too." He walked to the nearest chair and dropped into it. “The boy figured you'd take it easier — I mean, we figured you'd want to know that this here idea was all right with me."
“Uh-huh.” She nodded abruptly and walked to his side. "Well, it’s not all right with me."
"Miranda."
"No." She shook one finger at the seated giant "Oh, I'll admit to you that I love him. And ordinarily I would have been happy to marry the man."
He smiled.
"But," she went on, as his smile faded, “he was ready to leave me behind and go on with his search for…" Miranda glanced at Birdwell. "Did he tell you about…"
"His folks? Yeah."
"Good." She walked to the window, lifted the curtain, and stared out at the night. “Did he also tell you he said very plainly that he couldn't let anything, even me, stop him from searching?"
“Yeah.”
"And that when he suddenly realized that he might have left me with child, he decided that he would be willing to pay for his 'mistakes”!"
Birdwell cleared his throat-uneasily. "That ain't how he put it."
“It doesn't matter."
“Yeah, it does," Birdwell said quietly, firmly.
He pushed himself up from the chair and leaned toward her. Miranda tilted her head back to look him in the eye. She wasn't at all happy with what she saw in those black depths.
"Miranda, honey," he said softly, "we been goin' around and around for more'n an hour. And we're all done now."
“Finally.”
“That's right." He took her stubborn chin in his fingers and held her still. “And sometime this week you are gonna marry Jesse Hogan. Even if I have to snatch a parson myself!"
“I —“
"No!" He shook his head. “I heard all I'm gonna hear about it. Now you listen. It ain't right anymore, you stayin' in the canyon." She opened her mouth, but he went on quickly. "Things're different. It ain't like it used to be. And if your pa was here, he'd tell you the same. Now, Hogan's got hisself a ranch in Texas and you two could build yourselves a nice place. Have the kind of life you should have."
"But, Birdwell —“
"Don't Birdwell me in that sweet tone, either. Won't do no good." He smiled halfheartedly. “I'm gettin' on now, Miranda, and —“
"You'll never be old, Birdwell."
He snorted. “Hell, with any luck, we all get old sooner or later! But what I'm tryin' to say is, with me gettin' on in years and all… well, I'm not gonna be around to look out for you forever." Birdwell leaned down and kissed her forehead. "And I want to know for sure that you're safe and taken care of."
"There must be some other way —“
"No, honey. There ain't no other way. You best get used to the idea." He smoothed his big hand over her cheek gently. "You already said you love him. It won't be no hardship to live with him."
In spite of herself, Miranda had a brief, clear vision of her and Jesse together. That afternoon she'd had a sample of what that could be like. And to be with him all the time would only make things better. If she were completely honest, she would have to admit that she'd like nothing better than to be Jesse's wife and live with him on his ranch. She'd like to help him banish the haunting memories that surrounded him and his home.
And deep inside she knew that Birdwell was right about something else, too. It was time to leave her little town behind. So much had changed since she was a child. And even she could see that Bandit's Canyon would never be the real town she'd always hoped it would be. If she wasn't there to make a home for her outlaws, they would, no doubt, find some other way to survive. They'd done it long before she was born.
But it would be so much better if the man she married actually wanted her for a wife.
“He doesn't want to be married, Birdwell," she said on a sigh.
The big man drew her close and held her in an enveloping hug. Softly he told her, “Hell, honey. No man wants to get married. Leastways, not till some female convinces him he does." He pulled back, tilted her chin up, and grinned. "And Miranda, I don't think you're gonna have much trouble 'convincin’’ Jesse Hogan."
She leaned into his strength and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Everything was happening so quickly. How could she be sure that Birdwell hadn't already done the "convincing" necessary to get Jesse to agree with this plan? Maybe she should talk to Jesse. See how he really felt about all of this.
And no matter what Birdwell said or did, if Jesse wanted no part of this marriage, she wouldn't go through with it. She didn't want the man she loved to hate her for forcing him into a wedding that never should have happened.
#
“You Jesse Hogan?" Jesse spun around to face the man behind the deep voice. A man he'd never seen before stood just inside the bunkhouse, his hat in his hands. In a split second Jesse noted the man's slicked-down, light brown, almost blond hair. He wore a clean shirt still wrinkled from the bedroll it had been packed in and a pair of faded black pants. Around his hips was a well-worn pistol and holster. Blue eyes narrowed and watched Jesse steadily.
"Well?" the man asked again.
“Yeah. I'm Hogan." Jesse took a step closer to his holster and pistol, lying on the bed beside him. A big man, he told himself. Almost blond. It could be.
The man noticed his move and smiled in approval.
“No need to be nervous."
“Who're you?" Jesse asked quietly.
“Dexter. Pike Dexter.” Serena’s husband. The notorious Arizona Pike.
Somehow Jesse wasn't reassured. He took another step toward the pistol. He'd heard enough stories about Pike to warrant caution.
Pike laughed. His blue eyes softened and the tired lines in his face stretched into a long-unused smile. "Hell. Get your damn gun on if it makes you feel better."
Curious, Jesse watched the other man. From everything he'd heard about Arizona Pike, laughter was not what he'd expected. Of course, Jesse reminded himself, Miranda had told him about how Pike had been before his brother was killed. Still, there was no point in taking chances. Jesse reached for his gun belt, swung it around his narrow hips, and buckled it. He did feel better with his gun on. “Thanks,” he said.
Pike nodded and took a step closer. “Look, Hogan, I only come here to thank you for what you did for my wife." He leaned in for a better look at Jesse, whistled, and said softly, “Man, you look like you come out on the wrong end of a fight. What happened?"
Jesse's hand flew to his left eye and cheek. Gingerly he ran his fingers over the swelling. Not for the first time he told himself how lucky he was that Birdwell had only hit him the one time. “Nothin'," he answered. It was nobody's business where he picked up his black eye.