The Gunslinger’s Untamed Bride (10 page)

He walked through milky hues of moonlight spiking through the dense foliage of oak trees. A few yards out, the soft moonglow spread across a wide meadow littered with boulders. Atop the highest stone, her form stood out against the night like fine porcelain against black velvet.

Lily sat on the large boulder, her arms bound around her raised knees, gaze fixed on the starlit sky. Her auburn hair glimmered beneath the full moon. The soft light glistened against tear-streaked cheeks.

He paused, hesitant to intrude. Now that his temper had settled, he couldn’t shrug off the responsibility he felt for the hurt he’d caused her.

She spotted him and quickly looked away, wiping at her tears.

“A clear night,” he said, continuing toward the pile of rocks.

Her gaze shifted back toward the stars. She tightened her arms around the bulk of her skirts.

Ignoring her unwelcoming reaction, he stepped up onto a low boulder and reached her high perch in a few swift, painful strides. He sat beside her and eased back onto his elbows. Crossing his ankles, he propped up the boot that felt a few sizes too small.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said, glancing up at the clear view of constellations.

“Yes,” she said in a clipped tone. “I didn’t invite you to sit.”

“My apologies. Foot hurts like hell.”

From the corner of his eye he saw her gaze shift to his left boot.

“I suppose I was deserving of your ill temper,” she said a moment later.

“No, you weren’t.” He dragged in a deep breath. No matter how deserving he was of her scorn, they had to find some kind of truce. Vindictive as she seemed, he didn’t put it past her to upset his family. He just couldn’t have that.

“I was rude and out of line,” he said. “I apologize.”

Lily glanced at the seemingly relaxed man reclined beside her. Her chest tightened with a sense of caution…and a touch of fear. The fact that her fear had little to do with Juniper and everything to do with the chaos of emotions raging inside her only served to increase her caution.

He gazed up at the stars, but Lily sensed he wasn’t as relaxed as he appeared. If he weren’t bothered just as deeply by her presence, he wouldn’t have a hole in his boot.

“What do you care about, Lily?”

She stared at his upturned face. “What kind of a question is that?”

“A serious one,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I can see you’re successful and ambitious. You invest a lot in what you do. You said you’re of a business mind.”

She couldn’t tell if he intended further insult.

“There has to be something more that drives you to work so hard,” he said mildly. “Family, security…?”

She frowned, knowing she had little interest in either. The moment she’d come into her inheritance, her security had been sustained. She’d used it to turn the tables on the Carringtons—or had she
become
a Carrington? A greedy, insensitive, power-monger.

I’m not like them…am I?
She didn’t sit around waiting for her bank accounts to be filled. She worked hard.

To what end?

In the past hour of staring into the night, all she’d been able to see had been the somber eyes of the Donnelly family, Davy Grimshaw’s small hands holding such heavy equipment and the angry faces of her employees demanding to be treated fairly—all of them directly affected by her decisions.

She’d always been good with numbers—numbers made sense. She had a knack for analyzing accounts, checks and balances, and finding the weak points. She’d never given much thought to what those numbers ultimately represented, or who her decisions affected. She simply made adjustments until her profit increase reached a sufficient level, or she could increase a value before selling. McFarland’s lumber company had been more of a personal vendetta, but even so, she’d been fairly sure she could turn the lumber camp into a profit—for L. P. Carrington Industries.

You have never tried to please the masses.
Regi’s laughing voice echoed back at her.
Sorry, Lily, Carrington women do seem to be cold by nature.

“I want to make a difference,” she said. She had the money and resources to create positive changes.

“A difference in what?” asked Juniper.

Everything.
She’d saved the Carringtons from certain ruin, providing riches they hardly deserved. Why not benefit those who actually had a hand in building their business? Yet to say as much to Juniper…She didn’t care to cast light on more of her errors.

“You ask a lot of questions,” she said.

His easy smile reawakened the startling flutters in her belly.

“Part of my profession, I suppose.”

“Strange. I always imagined you’d be the silent type.”

His eyes flinched. “The quiet killer who kicks puppies for fun?”

The truth in his question made her wish she could suck the words back into her mouth.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We both know a thousand tomorrows can’t change even a second of the past.”

No. It couldn’t. Suddenly she found there was so much she longed to change. It was rather unfortunate business that it had taken her father’s killer to bring her such clarity.

She looked away from his bright eyes and wished the moon wasn’t quite so full and that he’d get off her rock. “If you wouldn’t mind, I climbed up here to be alone.”

“Actually,” he said, leaning forward, folding his long arms over his raised knees, “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“A favor?”
She stared into the intent blue eyes now mere inches from hers.

“It’s about my family. Jed and Rachell, they’re my foster parents. They have three children. April’s eleven and May’s twelve.”

It was hard enough being in his presence, but to delve into his personal life was more than her frazzled nerves could tolerate. “I really don’t care to hear—”

“The girls know a little about my ugly past,” he continued, talking over her, “but Isaac, he’s not quite eight. He doesn’t remember why I had to leave. I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible. So, while in their presence, I hope you can refrain from referring to me as a gunfighter. It’s not something I glorify or something I want my family to feel they have to defend.”

Defend
him?

It suddenly occurred to Lily that Juniper hadn’t made any attempt to defend what he’d done. He’d simply admitted his part in her father’s death without a word of justification.

I’m nothing but a heartless gunfighter with a bullet overdue.

When she’d stared into his eyes as he’d spoken those words, she would have sworn he believed them. But a heartless man wouldn’t harbor the sorrow she sensed in him. A heartless man wouldn’t worry about his influence on younger siblings.

“I realize I have no right to ask anything of you—”

“Fine. Yes,” she said, wanting him to leave her be. “I won’t say anything.”

“I’d sure appreciate it. The Doulans are good people.”

“So were
my parents.
”

The words shot from her mouth and were met by sheer silence. He sat beside her, his unblinking eyes searching hers.

Silence stretched.

His lack of response disturbed her far more than any conversation could have.

“I wish I could change what happened that evening,” he said at last, his voice a soft rumble on the cold breeze. “But I can’t.”

“Instead you’ll tarnish the only thing I have left of them—my memories.”

“That was never my intention. I was brash with what I said about Red back at the camp. My terms were callous. Truth is, your father did the world a service for the number of wanted men he brought in.”

“My father was a
salesman.
”

“Depends on how you look at it, I suppose. Red Palmer sold outlaws back to the government. He had a solid reputation of going after criminals who made most lawmen think twice before tracking them down. A dangerous profession, to say the least. I’m sorry if you weren’t aware.”

She shook her head. “You’re implying that he
killed
men for money.”

“I never said he killed all the men he caught. I don’t doubt the ones he shot down were doing their best to bury him first. Red earned his pay for turning in the men he caught. His line of work might not have made for pleasant suppertime conversation, but there’s no shame in it, either.”

“Is that why you shot him? He was trying to apprehend you?”

“No. I’ve never been wanted by the law. Red came after me because he wanted a gunfight.”

“Why?”

Juniper averted his gaze, knowing he didn’t have an answer that would satisfy either of them, least of all Lily. “I was known as a fast gun. Red believed he was faster.”

Lily couldn’t fathom her father partaking in such foolishness. A man had to be barbaric and arrogant to do such a thing.

She glanced at the man sitting beside her. Or perhaps he just had to be hard. Moonlight outlined the chiseled contours of Juniper’s face and lit up the tips of his blond hair. Remembering the bullet wounds she’d seen in his flesh, her gaze went to the open collar of his shirt.

“How does one become known as a fast gun, Mr. Barns?”

“A whole lot of bad luck,” he said, staring down at his boots. “I didn’t choose the path of a gunfighter, any more than someone chooses to be in a train wreck. It just happened.”

“Shooting people for sport
just happens?
”

His gaze snapped toward her so fast her breath hitched. It did seem a ludicrous question to be asking a man with whom she sat alone in the moonlight, but she’d never been very good at keeping her thoughts from reaching her tongue.

“I’ve never shot anyone for sport.”

“Isn’t that the nature of a gunfighter?”

“I don’t know. I was a kid trying to stay alive.”

The reminder of his age didn’t sit well with her. “So you’re saying my father was the heartless killer.”

“
No.
I don’t believe he was.”

His instant denial shocked her. “Why would you defend a man who tried to kill you?”

“It’s not my place to defend or condemn. Truth is, I’d always liked Red. He struck me as a pious man. We all make mistakes, Lily. Red was no exception. Neither am I.”

Her father should have been an exception! Perhaps it was childish to hold him in such high esteem, but she expected more of him. Had she really ever known him at all?

“We should get some sleep.” Juniper stood. He stepped down onto the lower rock. Reaching the ground, he looked back at her. “Tomorrow’s bound to be another long day.”

“I know my way back,” she said, needing some time alone to sort out her thoughts. She didn’t want to believe Juniper, yet he had no reason to lie to her.

Realizing he hadn’t left, she glanced down to find him still standing beside the boulders.

“You don’t need to wait for me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’m not ready to go.”

“Take your time. I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Plenty of wildlife roams these hills. I’d feel better if we walked back together.”

“I don’t need a personal escort.”

His gaze moved over the meadow. His posture relaxed, his fingers tucked into his pockets, he just stood there, silent and patient as a rooted oak tree. She imagined he’d stand there all night without complaint if she chose to stay put.

She tried to ignore him. But it was no use. She couldn’t think with him staring over her shoulder. With every passing moment, the breeze seemed to grow colder, until finally she began to shiver.

Releasing a hard sigh, she pushed to her feet. “I think I like you better when you talk.”

A smile spilled across his lips, and her stomach somersaulted. He held his hand up to assist her down from the boulder. She glanced at the darkness beyond the surface of the rock and realized stepping down would be a slight more hazardous than climbing up had been.

Reluctantly she placed her hand over his warm palm. Before she had the chance to negotiate her footing, he tugged her forward. She gasped as her hands landed on his shoulders and his hands circled her waist. In the next instant she was standing beside him in the tall grass, dizzied by the rush of movement and bursts of sensation.

She quickly moved past him. Juniper silently fell in step beside her.

“We’re limited on heat and blankets,” he said when they entered the small clearing. Regi slept near the dying glow of the fire, a thick gray blanket tucked in around him, the canvas tarpaulin stretched out beneath him. Juniper pulled his leather gun belt out from inside his long duster. He sat on the end of the tarpaulin, a few feet from Regi, and set the holster on the ground beside him.

“You’ll have to share the blanket with Reg.”

Lily stared at the sliver of space between Regi and Juniper.
Dear God.
She couldn’t be so close to him.

“Come lie down.”

The words had been spoken gently enough, but she sensed the clear order buried in his easy tone.

“I can sleep—”

“You’ll sleep right here in between us.”

Lily stiffened. “I will
not.
”

“In a few minutes you’ll realize it gets damn cold out here at night. Unlike the cougars, bears and coyotes that stalk through these hills, you don’t have a pelt of fur to keep warm. The warmest,
safest
spot for you to bed down is right here between me and Reginald. But you’re the boss. If you want to freeze and take the chance of being dragged off for some critter’s late-night meal, you go right ahead.”

He eased back onto the flap of canvas, folding his arms beneath his head. “Just don’t expect me to wake up and defend you. I’m dead tired.”

“For God’s sake, Lily,” Regi mumbled, “just lie down.” He eased up, punched at the jacket wadded up beneath his head and hunkered back down.

Bed down beside Juniper Barns—why the blazes not? Today had already been the most trying, infuriating and exhausting day of her life. The tarpaulin had to be better than the bare ground. She walked slowly toward them and squeezed in close to Regi. Even so, the heat of Juniper’s body radiated against her back.

She burrowed beneath the blanket with Regi. The instant warmth eased the ache of her sore body and seemed to increase the weight of her eyelids.