Authors: Zoe Archer
Lady X's Cowboy (35 page)
“I’ve been doing a bit of reading, Yank. I like to know who I’m up against. It says in those books that when two men want to finish something, they have a showdown. And that’s what I’m here to do.”
Will almost groaned. “Nobody does that, Maddox. It’s all made up.”
“What about Wyatt Earp and the Clantons at the OK Corral?” Maddox insisted. “That was genuine. And if you make a play for that gun right now,” he added, seeing Will’s hand hover near the handle of his Colt, “I’ll shoot this lady. She won’t be the first.”
Will pushed back the white rage that clouded his eyes. He needed to keep himself steady, since it was clear Maddox was playing a few cards short of a full deck. Men who had been pushed to the edge were always the most dangerous.
“So how about it, Yank?” Maddox taunted. “Are we going to do this properly, or will you make me ruin this pretty woman’s face?”
Will’s eyes flicked over to Olivia, who managed to keep herself steady. She looked almost as mad as he felt, her jaw tense and her lips pressed tight. A born fighter. One he wouldn’t lose to some crazy Englishman’s idea of honor.
“Fine,” Will said.
“No!” Olivia took a step towards Will, but Maddox raised his gun higher.
“That’s far enough, Lady Xavier. This Yank and I have a score to settle.”
She turned agonized eyes to Will, and he gave her just the smallest nod and a wink. “
Es vet zich alles oyspressen
,” he said. Everything will be all right.
“None of that filthy foreign talk,” Maddox shouted.
“
Abi tzu zein mit dir
,” she answered. As long as I’m with you.
“That enough!” Maddox screamed, nettled. His focus was gone, unnerved by Will and Olivia speaking Yiddish, and he swung his gun back and forth between them. Will had his opening.
The world slowed as Will’s hand darted to his hip. He saw the barrel of Maddox’s gun suspended midway between him and Olivia. Then his hand grasped the handle of his Colt and pulled it from the holster. In one motion, he drew back the hammer and fired.
Maddox gaped at the growing stain of bright red in the center of his chest, choking and sputtering, before falling to his knees. His Webley dropped from his fingers.
“That’s not...how they did it in the books,” he managed to gasp.
“I told you,” Will said, walking over and picking up Maddox’s gun, “those books are full of lies.” He looked over at Olivia, whose hands were pressed against her mouth in shock. She was pale, but sweet almighty, she was safe. “‘If you had read ’em better you would’ve learned somethin’—out West, a man protects what’s valuable to him, any way he can.”
Maddox’s eyes rolled back as he pitched forward, landing face first on the muddy cobblestones. Olivia came forward gingerly as Will reholstered his gun.
“Is he...?”
Will eased the hammer of the Webley back, uncocking it. “Yeah.”
By then, everyone had run out of the brewery to stand in the loading dock, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Excited and stunned murmurs filled the air as the crowd stared at Maddox’s lifeless body lying amid the stacked kegs, and Will holding a revolver. The murmurs rose to a babble as Olivia launched herself at Will, throwing her arms around him.
“You came back.” She clasped him tightly him as his own arms came up to hold her close. “I was going to get you. I thought you would leave.”
He cradled the back of her head with his free hand. “I can’t leave you, Liv, darlin’. I love you.”
“Will.” In full view of all the stunned employees, she pressed her mouth against his. “I love you. That’s all that matters to me.”
“Marry me, Liv,” he said. “I don’t care if I have to hog-tie the devil himself. I don’t care if never ride a horse again. I don’t care if we never leave smoky old London. I just want you to be my wife.”
She placed her hands on either side of his face, her violet eyes shining, tears glinting on her short black lashes. “And I don’t care if I have to wear evening gowns made of newspaper, or drink tea out of a tin can,” she said laughing. “I will marry you, my sweet cowboy.”
Epilogue
Golden, Colorado
1887
Olivia checked the figures in the ledger one final time and smiled to herself. At last, the Coffin Brewery was showing a profit.
Sitting at the desk in the small office, she stretched and looked out the window that opened into the brewery. Compared to Greywell’s, it was a small operation, but there was a growing market in this town at the foot of the Rockies, and nearby Denver, for quality beer. The Coffin Brewery was one of the few in the region, perhaps in the whole of the West, that could claim its yeast from a centuries-old strain originating in England. Perhaps that was part of its appeal. In any event, the years of hard work she and Will had dedicated were finally starting to pay off.
Starting their own brewery had been his idea. She had been willing to be a rancher’s wife, or just about anything, so long as she and Will could be married. As they were lying in bed debating exactly what they would do, that’s when the idea hit him. It sounded splendid to her.
To everyone’s surprise, she sold Greywell’s soon after George Pryce’s treachery had been uncovered. Mr. Huntworth remained the manager and became a major shareholder, but the deal stipulated that she could take a sample of the yeast with her to America.
As for Pryce, his father’s influence had succeeded in keeping him out of prison. Instead, the Earl of Hessay sent his youngest son to malarial South America, where, last Olivia heard, George Pryce had disappeared while trekking in Brazil.
She loved her life here in Colorado. The winters seemed to last an extra six or seven months, but how could she find fault with something so minor when everything else was so miraculous? Will continued to astonish her. It seemed amazing that a man who had made his life on rough and dangerous cattle trails could be so unfailingly generous with his heart.
He took well to running a brewery. She focused more on the accounting and record-keeping, and every day he was out there with their five other employees, hefting sacks of barley, stirring the mash, doing whatever was needed. He said to her one night, “I didn’t think I’d like stayin’ in one place, Liv, but I do. And I get to see your pretty face every mornin’. A man couldn’t ask for more.”
Their house in Golden was much smaller than her townhouse in London, which had been long since sold, but she liked its coziness. They had a small parlor with a baby grand piano, and a library stuffed with books and paperback novels. She liked the two women who helped cook and clean, their gruff good humor and teasing of her accent. The people of Golden were likewise outspoken and affable. She couldn’t recall laughing more than she had at her first barbeque.
When she and Will had time, and the weather was good, they would take a picnic hamper and go horseback riding along the high green trails. He’d spread out a blanket on some bluff overlooking the ripening valley, and they would make love until it began to grow dark.
So when Charlotte asked, in one of her letters, if Olivia missed England at all, the answer was an uncomplicated no. She did miss her parents, but they had come for a visit a year ago, and promised to return the following summer. Her brother had written to say that Graham would gladly fetch her back if she was unhappy, but she couldn’t remember a time when she had been more happy.
The door behind her opened, and she turned to see Will come in from the yard, grinning.
“Mommy!” Little Jake, just turned three, came racing past his father and right into her arms. As he burrowed close, she pressed kisses onto the top of his black curly head.
“Where have my two men been?” she asked.
“Post office,” Jake said. “Pop got a package.”
“Is that so?” She turned her face up and Will bent to kiss her. He ran the pad of his thumb under her chin and she still felt how just a touch from him could stir embers.
“Special delivery from England.” Will reached into the pocket of his duster and handed her a small paper-wrapped parcel.
“England,” Jake repeated. “Where Mommy’s from.”
“But she lives here now,” Olivia said.
“Can I open it?” Jake asked, looking eagerly at the parcel.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Olivia and Will exchanged smiles as their son tore at the brown paper around the package. A year after returning to Colorado, they had adopted their son, naming him Jacob Luke Coffin. Recently, they had begun the paperwork to adopt a little girl.
“It’s a book,” Jake said with obvious disappointment. He slid off his mother’s lap as she plucked the book from his hands. Will hefted him up and grinned down at his wife as she looked at the cover of the novel.
“
Lady X’s Cowboy; or, The Battle for the Brewery, A True Tale of Adventure and Romance
,” she read aloud. “
By Benjamin Bradshaw, Retired Coachman
.” With a laugh and a shake of her head, she set the book down on the desk and rose to embrace her son and husband.
“Ain’t you going to read it?” Will asked.
“I already know how it ends,” Olivia answered. “Happily.”
The End
About The Author
Zoë Archer
is an award-winning and RITA-nominated romance author who thinks there’s nothing sexier than a man in tall boots and a waistcoat. As a child, she never dreamed about being the rescued princess, but wanted to kick ass right beside the hero. She has an MFA in Fiction from the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and an MA in Literature from UC San Diego. Her romances include the acclaimed
Blades of the Rose
series, the
Hellraisers
series, both for Zebra Books, the
8
th
Wing
series for Carina Press
,
and the forthcoming gritty Victorian romance series,
Nemesis Unlimited
for St. Martin’s Press
.
She and her husband, fellow romance author Nico Rosso, are also co-authors of the
Ether Chronicles
steampunk romance series for Avon Impulse. When she’s not writing, Zoë likes to bake, lust after boots, and spend far too much time on the internet. She and Nico live in Los Angeles. Find her on the web at
Books by Zoë Archer
Historical Paranormal Adventure Romance
Rebel
(2011 RITA finalist, Best Paranormal Romance)
“The Undying Heart” in
Half Past Dead
The Hellraisers
Historical Paranormal Romance
Sinner’s Heart
(coming April 2013)
The Ether Chronicles
Steampunk Romance
Skies of Fire
Skies of Steel
(coming October 2012)
Nights of Steel
(by Nico Rosso, coming November 2012)
The 8
th
Wing
Sci-Fi Romance
Other Historical Romance
Lady X’s Cowboy
Nemesis Unlimited
Gritty Victorian Historical Romance
Sweet Revenge
(coming June 2013)
Untitled Nemesis Books 2 & 3
(coming Winter 2013 and Spring 2014)
Excerpts
Warrior (The Blades of the Rose)
She and her father managed to remember their manners enough to offer Captain Huntley a seat and some English tea. She handed the captain a cup of the steaming beverage, which he took with large, work-rough hands. Their fingers brushed against each other. The sensation of his touch ran through her like wild horses. He breathed in quickly as her skin went sensitive and alive, feeling everything at once, but mostly
him.
They stared at each other, manners forgotten. A blaze there, in his golden eyes, and an answering flare within her. Hot and sudden, like wildfire on the steppe after a dry season.
He broke the contact first, pretending to study his cup as he took a sip of tea. Thalia tried, but failed, not to watch the shape of his mouth on the painted rim of the cup. How might those lips feel against her skin? She knew better than this, she chided herself, and as soon as Captain Huntley had finished his tea, she would show him the door and never see the man again.