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BOOK: Bounty Hunter Proposal
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Epilogue

A year and a half later

 

Isabelle wrapped the book in tissue, trying her best to do it as quietly as possible. The volume of King Arthur tales was the last present she needed to wrap. Slowly, she tied the red ribbon, pausing to listen for a whisper or a creak on the stair. Luke and Seth were even stealthier this Christmas than last year.

That morning while she’d tried to make a special cake for their Christmas celebration, they’d snuck into her kitchen twice, giggling when she’d spied them and shooed them out.

Aside from the fire crackling in the fireplace, the cabin was quiet. She set the last present under the tree and stood back. Several days before, Matthias announced that the ‘men’ were going out to search for a good Christmas tree. It was a serious task and might take most of the day. They’d need a picnic lunch to take along.

They were gone until mid-afternoon, and returned walking beside Arlo. He pulled the tree behind him, dragging it in the light snow. Now the tree stood in their cabin beside the fireplace. It was taller than Matthias, almost reaching the ceiling. The boys decorated it with popcorn and crimson paper stars. Matthias surprised everyone by topping the tree with a small angel he’d whittled and painted white.

It filled the cabin with a sharp, piney scent of Christmas.

A stirring from the back bedroom drew her attention, and she went down the darkened hallway. The cradle stood in the corner, a few feet from the stove. The baby, a boy of four months, slept, sucking his thumb. Isabelle drew a sharp breath. Whenever she looked at her son, Thomas, as he rested, she felt her eyes prickle with tears.

Three months after Matthias had strolled down her driveway and asked to speak to her husband, Isabelle had discovered she was expecting. The Sutton clan had been overjoyed, both Ben and Cam toasting the news with expensive scotch, and Savannah and Violet alternating between laughter and happy tears.

“If it’s a girl, I won’t mind if you name her after me,” Violet had told her. “Ben won’t let me name a girl Violet. He says he’s terrified she’ll be as big a handful as I am.”

Isabelle adjusted the baby’s blanket. When the child was born, she told Matthias to name him. Without hesitation, he’d said the boy would be named Thomas, after his father.

Seth and Luke both loved having a baby brother and often asked Matthias and Isabelle how soon they’d get a sister. Matthias liked to catch her eye and smile.

Patch lay on his blanket near the cradle. He liked to sleep there whenever he could. Matthias grumbled that he liked the warmth from the stove, but Isabelle suspected the dog wanted to protect the baby.

Strong, wise and beautiful, Patch seemed to think all three boys were his to watch over. He lifted his head and cocked it, listening intently. Did he hear Matthias returning?

Patch held a special place in Matthias’ heart. He never said as much, but Isabelle was sure of it. Matthias liked to call Patch the “pick of the litter.” He reserved a special bowl for Patch, saving scraps and choice morsels for the dog.

The door opened, and Matthias said her name softly. Patch thumped his tail and lay his head back down. Isabelle hurried to the front of the cabin to find her husband in the doorway. His face was red and chapped from the cold. Snow glazed the rim of his cowboy hat. He took a few steps, stalking towards her. He gave her a wicked smile, his white teeth contrasting with a short, dark beard.

She held up her hands to fend him off and gave a breathless laugh. “Do
not
kiss me.”

He growled his discontent. “Later then.”

It was a game for him to kiss her when he’d come in from the cold. He relished trapping her and tormenting her with an icy kiss while she tried to wriggle free.

He held out a gloved hand. “Come see what I have.”

She took his hand, and he led her to the porch. Arlo stood in front of the cabin. Beside him was a pony. In the dim light of the half-moon, the pony looked to be the same beautiful color as Arlo.

“A palomino pony?” Isabelle whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

“Had to look far and wide for a palomino, but that was exactly what I wanted for Seth.”

Her breath fogged in the cold, and she hugged herself to keep a little warmth. Stepping down from the porch, she held her hand out to the pony. He stepped closer and sniffed her hand.

“So, this is why you had to go to the Suttons’ on Christmas Eve,” she said.

Matthias pulled her into his arms, drawing his coat around her. “Shorty’s been working with him for the better part of a week. Says he’s real gentle.”

Both horses stood side by side. The moonlight burnished their golden coats, and the snow on the ground sparkled around them. The pony was a pretty little fellow, quiet, with large, curious eyes.

Matthias had doubled the size of their land and had a herd of six thousand cattle. He’d already told Seth he could help take the calves to market at the end of the summer. Now he would have a chance to practice his cowboy skills.

Matthias kissed the top of her head. “Now I’m going to have to listen to his brother grouse for two years, asking when he’s going to get a palomino.”

“Thomas will want one, too. Just wait.”

He brushed his lips against her temple. “We better have a few girls after all these pesky boys.”

“I better go back in, just in case Thomas stirs.”

He released her, and she returned to the porch, pausing on the top step. “The pony’s beautiful, Matthias…”

For a moment she was overcome. Perhaps it was the Christmas season, or maybe the way he always did special things for her and the boys, but sometimes she found herself overwhelmed with emotion.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He took off his hat and banged it against his leg. A flurry of snow fell from the brim. “S’all right, Mrs. Hudson. Happy to do it, but you still owe me a kiss.”

 

THE END

 

 

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Alix

The right of Alix West to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

 

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Copyright © 2016 by Alix West

All rights reserved.

Excerpt from…

Coming For The Cowboy

 

Coming For The Cowboy - Chapter One

Benjamin Sutton frowned at the pair of fives in his hand. He considered how much effort he wanted to put forth to try to win this one. He’d come into the Magnolia for a quick drink before heading home for the evening. Two hours ago. Now he was on his third whiskey, feeling good about his winnings and weighing if he wanted to risk two dollars or fold.

The other man still in the game, Richard Gorse, was president of The Colter Canyon Bank. Gorse was known for his shady business dealings and Ben relished the idea of taking every last dime from him. It would serve the bastard right. Just last month, he had called in another loan from an elderly widow, then gloated that it was the easiest money he’d made all year.

The saloon was lively for a Saturday afternoon. Several girls were perched on barstools, eyes open for men with money and desire. Every so often one would look over her shoulder and smile or bat her eyelashes at Ben. He flirted with them, chastised them for distracting him from his game, but the girls knew he wouldn’t do more than tease them. He hadn’t been near any of the Magnolia girls in years. He preferred his women to be softer around the edges than the working girls in the saloon.

One of them, a woman who’d worked there for years, gazed at him seductively and traced her tongue along the rim of her whiskey glass.

“Darla, if you make me lose this hand I’m going to come over there and spank you.”

All three girls burst into giggles.

One of them grinned. “She’s been doing that for the last five minutes, Ben, you just didn’t notice.”

Gorse turned in his seat. “What was she doing?”

Darla frowned. “I ain’t showing you anything, Mr. Gorse. Not unless you pay me a dollar and buy me a drink.”

Gorse turned back around and muttered a few obscenities. “Half the girls in Colter Canyon are in love with you, Ben, and the other half are married.”

“Just half?” Ben asked. “I must be getting rusty. I call your two dollars and raise you two more. Want me to lend you a dollar for old Darla?”

Gorse snorted. “Darla’s pushing thirty. I’ll save my dollar. I fold.”

Ben laid down his hand and raked in the pot. Gorse cursed again, “A pair of fives! Damn it!”

A throng of cowboys strolled in and joined the girls at the bar. Soon the bartender was pouring drinks for the group. Before long the girls were giggling even louder. One of them got up from her chair and led a young cowboy upstairs while his companions hollered lewd advice and cheered him. The couple disappeared at the top of the stairs and soon another girl led her cowboy to the notorious rooms on the second floor of the Magnolia.

Ben won two more card games and was on his way to winning a third when a movement caught his eye. He froze with his whiskey glass half-way to his mouth. He slowly set his glass back down, eyes transfixed. The Magnolia’s madam, Clarice, descended the stairs with a girl, one Ben had never seen before. His breath stilled. The girl was slender, delicate as a willow, and dressed in a pale, flowing gown. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she lifted her gaze and looked directly at him. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted and she drew a sharp breath, her face flushing a beautiful pink.

A potent jolt of arousal hit Ben’s blood. His attention was riveted to the pretty girl, so out of place amongst the rest of the Magnolia’s painted women.

She clutched the bannister and stared at him. The noise of the saloon faded from his hearing. His heart thudded hard against his sternum as he took in the details of the girl. Her skin was pale and without a single flaw, like porcelain. Her blue eyes were the color of a robin’s egg. Dark hair fell past her shoulders.

“You know her?” Gorse asked.

“No. Who is she?”

“Clarice’s newest offering. Violet.”

“Damn,” Ben muttered. The girl still gazed at him, eyes wide with alarm. Why, he wondered, did she look like she wanted to turn and flee? Did she feel even a fraction of the same need that drummed through his veins?

Gorse snickered. “Put it back in your pants, Sutton, you’ve got a mail order bride coming.”

“I’m just looking. Besides, she’s not coming for a month. Maybe two. I forget.”

Clarice ushered the girl out of the main room and towards the back. The girl kept her gaze on him. She regarded him with an aloofness and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly as she turned away. She and Clarice disappeared in to the back room.

Ben lifted the glass of whiskey and drained it. He did have a mail order bride coming, something his older brother had arranged. Ben had gone along with the scheme so he could claim his grandmother’s inheritance. His future bride had agreed to the marriage, a marriage in name only, which suited Ben just fine. He had no interest in her, knew nothing about her really. His brother, Cameron, had written every one of the letters to the girl, all signed by, and supposedly from, Ben. But Ben hadn’t even read the letters, and he paid no attention to the return letters either. Cameron, however, had read all the return letters, some of them multiple times, and had taken a liking to the girl himself.

It was sweet. Heart-warming. If Ben believed in love, he might just get a tear in his eye, thinking about his brother’s innocent love for the girl he’d never met. He didn’t believe in love, though. What he did believe in was having a good time with a woman, and the one who’d just looked down her pretty nose at him was about the loveliest he’d ever seen.

“The winner of tonight’s poker game, in the back room, gets first go at her,” Gorse said. “Clarice is a stubborn woman, I’ve offered her a lot of money for a chair at the table, but she keeps saying it is invitation only, and ‘
I ain’t invited
.’ The whore.”

Ben felt a wave of fury, a sudden urge to ram his fist into this man’s smirking face. Gorse never passed on the chance to bed the younger Magnolia whores. Whenever Clarice had a new girl, he’d prowl the saloon, waiting for her to come out, then he’d brag to the other regulars about how he’d been first. The character of the man never set well with Ben, but the idea that he or any man would touch the girl enraged him beyond reason.

Gorse went on, “Ten-dollar minimum bids and the house keeps half.” He grinned. “She probably didn’t tell you about it because you’re fixing to marry. Can’t wait for my turn with that little tart.”

Ben clenched his fist, cracking his knuckles. “It’s time you shut the hell up.”

Gorse waggled his tongue in a gesture that was unusually obscene, even for him. “That little skirt would sure look good perched on my cock. I’ll pay extra to do her twice.”

Ben threw down his cards. “I fold. Game over.” He didn’t want to pay for new furniture, and he was one Gorse comment away from breaking a chair over the man’s skull.

He pocketed his money and strode to the back of the saloon. His spurs rang and his boots thudded on the wooden floor. The Magnolia had a poker room tucked away in the back for special occasions, or for nights when a high-roller wanted to play cards with some of the girls. It was windowless, dark paneled and smelled of cigar smoke. He stopped in the doorway to look at Violet. It was rare for him to be so struck by a girl’s beauty, but she made him want to stop and stare. She sat alone at a table. She looked up and nodded wordlessly.

Ben stepped into the room, his body responding to her the instant he crossed the threshold. His blood heated. Lust surged through him and he fought the desire to snatch her up off the chair and carry her out of that room of sin.

“How much are they planning on making on this poker game tonight?”

She flinched at his words. It was just as he thought. Any seasoned whore would gladly discuss the particulars of financial arrangements, but Violet acted as if he’d threatened her. Face pale, eyes downcast, she was the picture of despair.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly.

Her voice was soft. She was younger than he’d first thought. Ebony waves framed her face, accentuating her delicate features. Her blue eyes were framed with long, dark lashes. He had to force himself not to stare at her lush lips. She was the epitome of innocence, nothing like the rest of the women at the Magnolia.

“How
old
are you?” he asked.

“Old enough.”

His temper burned. This girl looked completely out of place, like a frightened animal in a hunter’s net. Fearful, but submissive, her dress clung to her curves, the neckline dipping to display the lush swell of her breasts.

She straightened her shoulders and gave him a haughty look. Her brows lifted and she tried to maintain the imperious glare, but when her eyes locked with his, she lost her nerve and averted her gaze.

She swallowed and drew a deep breath. “Nineteen,” she whispered. “Sir.”

Ben groaned. A mixture of lust and anger warred within him. How could Clarice take this unspoiled beauty and sell her to the highest bidder?

“Where is Clarice?” he demanded.

“She’s coming right back.” Violet looked down, her expression vulnerable once more. “She’s talking to the cook.”

Ben pulled out a chair and sat down. “That because you’re hungry? Just before you go and take some man to bed for the first time, you’re ready to dig into a steak or maybe half a roast chicken?”

She blushed. Fragile and dainty, she was like a doll. There was no way that small frame was made to entertain the number of men who’d be lining up for her.

“I’m not hungry,” she said. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

She bit her lip. The small gesture made a growl form in his chest.

“You don’t belong here,” he said softly. “This sort of work isn’t for you, sweetheart.”

“I’m just here for a month. Then I’m going home. Clarice knows that.”

A month. How many men would come to her room in a month’s time?

She looked down at her hands, fidgeted and then looked back up at him. “Thank you. You’re nice to say that, but what’s done is done.”

Unable to resist, he reached across the table and covered her hands. Awareness scorched his nerves.

“I’m not
nice
. None of the men in this saloon are
nice
.”

She yanked her hands away from him and set them on her lap.

Ben stared at the girl, unable to look away. She was young, clearly, but she looked weary and resigned as though she’d already lived a lot.

He settled back in the chair and stretched out his legs, crossing one ankle over the other. There was plenty he should be doing other than sitting in the back room at the Magnolia. He
should
be heading back to the ranch to make arrangements for a cattle drive that was long overdue, but there was no way he was going to leave Violet at the Magnolia.

Clarice came into the room carrying a tray with a teapot, a couple of glasses of lemonade and a small plate of sandwiches. “You chatting up my newest girl? Don’t wear her out. She’s going to need all her strength tonight.”

Ben smiled, keeping his gaze on the girl. “She’s going to need all her strength for the next month.”

Clarice sat down. “That’s right. I’m going to turn this little beauty into a first-rate lady of the evening.”

Ben helped himself to one of the sandwiches and gave Clarice a pointed look. “You’re going to give her to me and I’ll teach her everything she needs to know.”

Clarice snorted. “Nothing doin.’ You’ll scare her half to death. You’re not allowed to do business with my girls.”

Violet’s eyes widened. She glanced from Clarice to Ben and back. “What’s wrong with him?”

Clarice shrugged. “Darlin’, I can’t say for sure what’s wrong with Ben Sutton, but I wouldn’t mind finding out some time. The one time he visited one of my girls she was so upset she high-tailed it out of here the very next morning. I had to send a bill to the Sutton family to replace a broken bed.”

Ben smirked. “That girl left because I gave her a two-hundred-dollar tip. She had enough to go to California and start a new life.”

Violet’s eyes widened. “A two-hundred-dollar tip! What did she have to do for that?”

Ben grabbed a glass of lemonade and raised it as he winked at her. “I’ll show you tonight, baby girl.” He took a bite of the sandwich. “I don’t know why I’m so hungry all of a sudden.”

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