The Gallows' Bounty (West of Second Chances) (13 page)

“I’ve had to be. I’ve been looking out for myself for a long time.”

“I’ll let you know right now, Willow, we’ll be looking after each other.”

His words, his tone, his look left no room for doubt in
Willow’s mind–he meant what he said.  He appeared so serious she felt the need to lighten the mood.

“I can’t imagine how I’ll be able to look after you.  It seems your dangerous reputation does that well enough.”

He grunted and lounged comfortably against one of the stable doors.  “It keeps me looking over my shoulder.  It’s not much protection when someone wants to earn a reputation by killing you.”

Willow joined him in leaning against the same stall door, but left a good foot between them.  “Do you get challenged often?”

“Too much for my peace of mind,” Boden said, a distant look in his eyes. 

“I take it no one’s arisen to the challenge as yet.”

“No, but there have been a few times I’ve come away a little worse for wear.”

“I’ll bet it grows tiresome.” She knew all too well what it felt like to spend every moment looking over your shoulder, waiting for the attack that would end your life.  “It’s hard to find peace when you live life like that.”

Up until that point, he had been preoccupied with some distant object in front of him.  Perhaps he focused on the turning of the windmill blades.  Sunlight glinted off the metal as the gentle breeze turned the blades in a slow, methodical spin.  But now, he shifted his gaze to her, and Willow looked up into his eyes.

“I think you understand all too well how I feel,” Boden stated quietly.

Willow expected him to say more, but he didn’t.  He just returned his gaze to the windmill.

“How do you like working out of doors?”

The swift subject change surprised Willow, but she answered anyway.  “I enjoy outdoor work.  Used to do it all of the time when I lived at home.  Riding, roping, mucking, branding–pa let me help out with all of it.”

“Then, I’d appreciate your help outdoors,” Ezra said.  “The house is so small, I’m sure it can’t keep you all that busy.”

She smiled.  “No, especially when you’re by far the neatest man I’ve ever encountered.”

“I do believe that’s a compliment,” Boden smiled.

Willow felt warm.  “It was.”

“Anyway, I’ve been meaning to hire some more ranch hands for a long time, but few men are looking for a job with Butcher Boden.  I think you could be a big help to me,” Ezra said.  “That is, if you’re up to it. I’d hate to have you faint again.”

She ignored his reference to her fainting and asked, “What exactly do you need help with?”

“Mending fence. Looking for strays. I’ll be spending a lot of time out on the range for a while now, and I’d feel better if you were with me.”

Willow couldn’t remember the last time anyone simply needed her help, had wanted to look out for her.  “I’d be glad to help you.  It’ll be a nice change.  And I swear I’ve never fainted before.  I don’t plan on doing it again.”

“Good,” he said before placing an arm around her shoulders.

His arm felt heavy, but it didn’t intimidate her.  No, it left her feeling a bit warmer and with a fluttering in her stomach.  Strangely, it felt like nerves.  Good nerves.  The kind a person got when anticipating something good.  A long time had passed since she’d felt nerves like those.

“Do you think you can climb up there and pitch some hay down into the yard?” he asked, his gaze directed up at the loft.

“I sure can.”  She stepped out of his embrace and headed toward the loft ladder, missing the security of his arm so casually looped around her shoulders.

She placed one foot on the bottom rung of the loft ladder and climbed upward.  She could feel his eyes on her as she climbed.

“Watch your step,” he called from below her.

She was sure that if she didn’t, he would.

A
FISHING TRIP WOULD
be the perfect escape.  The late July air hung heavy with humidity.  Boden could throw his line in and relax.  Maybe take a quick dip in the cool, clear water now and then.  He made for his fishing gear in the back of the tack room before realizing there was a problem with his plan–he was a married man.

Now most married men would simply leave their wives at home to enjoy a day of fishing alone, yet he couldn’t leave Willow without his protection. He sighed; the fishing trip was out.  He regretfully set his gear aside and began to walk away.

A burst of brilliance stopped him in his tracks. Why not take Willow with him?  Maybe she’d even appreciate the chance to get out and enjoy the day.  It would require he sacrifice his solitude, but to be honest, Willow had yet to say much.  She wasn’t exactly chatty.

Perhaps this was his chance to draw her out, to show her he could be a friend as well as a protector.  He reckoned she’d gone a long while without a friend.

Hell, if he were lucky, maybe she’d like to fish as well.  Anticipation lengthened his stride.  The day suddenly took on renewed promise.

Boden ambled into the house and called out for his wife.  Hurried footsteps sounded from the back of the house.  She’d most likely been making up the bed or tidying something else she’d already tidied a few times already that morning.

“Did you need something, Boden?  Your arm didn’t reopen, did it?”

He lifted his arm for her inspection.  “No, my arm’s just fine.”

Willow checked the bandages she’d wrapped around his arm before nodding her approval.

“I came in the house to ask if you’d like to go fishing with me.”  He waited for her answer and was somewhat surprised to note that her eyes widened with pleasure at his offer.

“I’d like that,” she finally answered.

“Good.”  He moved back toward the door.  “I’ll get the gear and the horses.  Just meet me outside when you’re ready.”

He left then, eager to tackle a day of fishing.  Ah, but it would be nice.

TROUBLE LURKED AROUND EVERY
corner, at least that’s what Willow figured as she watched Boden’s eyes scan the horizon.  She’d come across some cautious men in her lifetime, but none so cautious as him.  It was obvious why the man managed to stay alive–he never let his guard down.

He didn’t talk much, either.  Willow discovered she liked that about him.  He said what needed to be said.  Her father had been that way, and the similarity between the men, however small, comforted her.  Perhaps she really had come across a man she could learn to trust.

The quiet of the summer day soothed her taut nerves as nothing else could.  Willow sat deep in the saddle and enjoyed the strong sun and the gentle breeze.

The ride to
Devils Lake wasn’t a long one.  In fact, the lake was escaping its banks and it made the ride a tad shorter.

Willow
reined in Kitty at the same time Boden drew back on Beast, but somehow he made it to her side to help her dismount before she even thought about getting down.

Remembering his injured arm, she hesitated to let him help her.  The strain of holding her might break the stitches.  He lowered his hands and backed away, and she realized he thought she balked out of fear.

“I just don’t want you to reopen that wound, Boden,” Willow explained.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Boden said, grinning and stepping forward with outstretched arms.

A smile of her own escaped as Willow allowed him to help her.  She should explain that she could dismount a horse at a gallop and keep her footing, but she enjoyed his consideration. He assisted her like a perfect gentleman should.

“No problem, half-pint,” He set her firmly on the ground and withdrew his strong grip.  “I think I could juggle you and not break these stitches.”

A blush crept over Willow’s face and she was thankful Boden moved away to stake out the horses and unload the tackle.

A few long strides later, Boden headed toward Willow with his fishing gear in hand.  He set the handful near the shoreline before heading for the overturned rowboat a little ways from the lake’s shrinking shoreline.  He’d have to leave the boat a bit farther ashore next time or he’d be sure to lose it to the encroaching waters.

He flipped the boat over and loaded it before dragging it out into the water.

“Your ship awaits, my lady,” Boden teased as he kept the boat from drifting completely into the water.

“A moment, kind sir,” Willow teased back.  She made her way to Boden’s side and couldn’t help noticing all the while what a fine figure of a man he was.  She could almost imagine him the knight he currently played at being.  He definitely knew how to work his charm on a damsel.

The lake water slapping the back half of the rowboat sounded faintly, reminding her she’d soon be alone with Boden in the middle of the lake.  Willow glanced up at her husband as she reached his side.  The appreciation she glimpsed in his eyes caused her to misstep. When she recovered her footing and looked back up at him, his expression showed concern.  Did he realize the affect he was having on her?  She didn’t understand the feelings he stirred in her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to understand them.  Not yet, anyway.

“Lady Willow, will you steady the boat while I take my boots off?” he asked.

He stepped back from the boat once she leaned down to hold it in place.  Boden sat to quickly remove his boots and socks and roll his pant legs up to the knees.  When Boden looked up,
Willow tried to hide her amusement.  She was sure her eyes twinkled and her lips twitched at the funny picture he made.

“Are you laughing at your knight, my lady?”  He grinned broadly as he teased her, standing to his feet.

“I might be, sir knight.” Willow said although she thought he looked more like an overgrown schoolboy playing hooky.  She turned her head away from him and let a smile escape.

A startled squeal escaped her as Boden snatched her up into his arms and stepped into the water.  She clutched his neck with her hands.  “I wasn’t laughing at you.  I wasn’t,” she assured him.

He laughed at her platitudes.  “Do you want me to put you down?”

“Yes,”
Willow responded before she noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes.  He began to lower her to the water, and she hastily changed her answer.  “No!”

“I didn’t think so.”

Boden set her in the rowboat instead and pushed his ship and his lady out into the water.  He waded for a few feet before hopping into the boat.  He reached for the oars, and Willow cast him an anxious look.

“My arm?”

She nodded.

“I’ll be careful not to injure it,” he placated.

“I don’t think the stitches can take you rowing,” Willow said.  She tried to hide her concern from him, but she failed miserably.  And there was that rule: no man liked to be told what to do.  Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut.

He scooted over on the seat at the back of the boat and patted the empty space to his right.  “You’re going to spoil me with all of this pampering, Willow Boden.”

“I think that’s only fair, considering how much you pamper me,” Willow answered.  She meant it, too.  He took such good care of her and she wanted to return the favor. 

Boden heaved a sigh. “Well, since you won’t let me use the arm you fought so hard to patch up, you’re going to have to help man the other oar.”

“That sounds fair,” Willow said, standing cautiously.

She nearly tipped them over making her way to sit beside him.  He smiled at her awkwardness, but
Willow didn’t comment.  No, she was concentrating too hard on sitting down without tipping them.

Once seated, her thigh brushed his.  She shifted first one way and then the other, but no matter where she moved she came into contact with him.  Sitting next to him was like sitting in front of a fireplace.  He made her feel warm and she was all too conscious of his being at her side.  She shifted one more time, but stopped when a hand settled around her waist and pulled her close.

“Willow, there’s only so much room on this bench,” he said.

Boden removed his arm and took up his oar.  She followed suit, taking her oar in both of her hands.  He may have only one hand to propel his oar through the water, but she’d most likely need both of hers to keep up.  She waited for him to take the lead.

BODEN TOOK THE LEAD
, slicing his oar into the water first.  He lifted the dripping oar up and out and watched as she quickly matched his pace.  He’d expected it to take them a few moments to get the timing of rowing together.  It didn’t.

The last bit of doubt Boden harbored about their marriage vanished.  They worked well together, as though she were an extension of him, his other half.  She’d demonstrated over the past few weeks that she was intelligent, steady, and compassionate.  Hell, the woman was worse than a mother hen where his arm was concerned.  Worse yet, he enjoyed her concern.

The thought made him swallow hard.  The protectiveness he felt for her had increased in its intensity.  Before he’d protected her because she’d been a woman in need, now he wanted to protect her because she was his.

In turn, his desire for her increased.  He cast a look at her profile.  The wind played with her hair as she rowed, her movements graceful.  Damn, she was a beautiful woman.

He turned abruptly, concentrating on his movement and realizing he’d put himself in a real pickle. He wanted to kiss her in the worst way, and being in the middle of the lake would put them in close proximity.

Well, if worse came to worse, he could always jump into the lake.  He figured the cool water would go a long way toward dampening his desire.

BODEN APPEARED LOST IN
thought as they made their way to the middle of the lake.  Willow wondered what he could be thinking about but didn’t ask.  She was concentrating too hard on keeping up with his rowing.  He set a fast pace even with only one arm to propel the oar, and Willow’s double grip was entirely necessary to match the power behind his strokes.

Her concentration broke as she watched him work the oar.  He was so powerful, but he didn’t set a pace she couldn’t keep.  He didn’t play down her ability either.  No, he set a pace they could both keep.  The realization squelched the last of the nerves that had arisen earlier.  His actions showed her that he wouldn’t leave her behind.

A while later they were in the middle of the lake and pulling the oars back into the boat.  The gentle breeze set them drifting and the sunlight sparkled on the water.  Why would anyone name this place Devils Lake?  It didn’t look anything like she figured the biblical lake of fire would look.  She put the question to Boden, her curiosity overcoming her shyness.

“I wondered about it myself when I first settled here. Evidently the Indians who live in these parts originally called the place Miniwaukan, meaning 'Bad Spirit'.” Boden handed
Willow a fishing pole, a worm squirming on its hook, and proceeded to prepare his own line.  “Guess the devil is the closest thing to a bad spirit we know.”

“It sure doesn't look like a place where the devil would lurk,”
Willow said.  She cast a look at the beauty of the lake.  It seemed so peaceful. “Maybe someone got the translation wrong.”

Boden gave her comment some thought before he said, “Or maybe the first settler thought if he named the place after the devil, he could keep it to himself.  Not a bad idea.”

Willow dropped her line in the water as she considered what he said and how he said it.  “You like your solitude, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I suppose I do,” he replied, his hook and worm making a plunking sound as it broke through the water’s surface.  “I haven’t had much peace and quiet in my life, so I enjoy the peace I do get.”

Willow took that as her cue to keep quiet.

A long silence later, Boden clarified, “Willow, talking with you is peaceful.”

She looked up at her husband and smiled.  Boden looked as though he wanted to say something more, do something more, but her line jerked, interrupting the moment. 

She giggled in delight as she drew her line in.  Boden watched to make sure she could handle it herself, but he didn’t interfere until she brought a hefty Northern Pike into the boat.  She laughed as the fish flopped in the bottom of the boat.

Boden made a grab for the fish and missed, his injured arm making the movement awkward.  Willow took that opportunity to reach for it herself.

“Watch out for the fins,” Boden warned.  “They can be sharp.”

He really was a protective sort. She held up the fish flopping in her hands and grinned.  “Don’t worry, I’ve done this before.” She punctuated the statement by removing the hook.

“I see that you have,” Boden remarked, pleased with his wife’s skill.

“My father and I used to go all the time.”

He held open a net with a drawstring at the top, and she dropped the fish into it.  He pulled the top closed and dropped it over the side of the boat.

“Want to worm your own hook this time?”