The Gallows' Bounty (West of Second Chances) (30 page)

A small smile slipped onto Willow’s face as she roused.  “I see you’re awake.”

“I am at that.”  He bent low and nuzzled her neck.  “You want to wake up with me?”

Willow shifted to her back and looked up into Boden’s eyes.  “I couldn’t think of a better Christmas present.”

“Neither can I.”  Boden’s lips fell to Willow’s neck then migrated lower.  “You taste good this morning.”

“You feel good.”

“So do you.”

She sighed.

And that’s what Boden loved the most.  She felt comfortable in his arms, something he had feared she would never feel.  The first few times they had come together he had been so careful to leave her an out, to take it slowly, to make sure she desired him.  Now more than love glistened in her eyes; trust shined there as well.  And fast on the heels of both came her passion, freely given.

The thoughts of others forcing her broke through at times, making him furious.  He couldn’t be sad that she had killed Roberts.  Any man who would treat a woman like he had deserved what he had gotten.  More than what he’d gotten.

Boden placed his lips over hers and kissed her deeply, unconsciously relaying all the love and protection he felt for his wife.

“Boden?” His name came from her lips when he came up for air long moments later.

“Hmm?”

“What were you thinking just now?”  She reached a hand up and traced his brow.

Since when had he become so easy to read?  There had been a day when others didn’t know something was on his mind until he shared it with them.  This woman had become more sensitive to his moods than he was wont to be.

“Boden?” she prompted gently when he hesitated to answer her.

What could he say?  That he was thinking of how others had mistreated her, and how he wanted to see them pay?  All in all, he reckoned you didn’t tell the woman you were loving that you were thinking to murder people while you held her, even if it was for her.

He improvised.  “I was thinking about how much I wanted to keep you safe, so I can love you for a long, long time.”

“I think about that too sometimes,” she said so seriously that Boden figured he shouldn’t laugh.

He wasn’t sure if he should be wounded or pleased.  “You think about protecting me?”

She looked at him as though she may have said something wrong.

“I’m surprised is all,” he hastened to assure her.

“Why? I don’t think I could make it in this world without you.”

“You have and you could.”

“I did, but I’m spoiled now. I have a handsome, capable husband who loves and cherishes my heart and my body.” She blushed deeply at her confession. “I know for a fact God didn’t make too many of those.”

“There’s Nathan if anything ever happens to me,” Boden said, hoping to God it never came to that. He got jealous of the thought of Willow ever resting in Nathan’s arms.

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Boden’s gaze snapped to his wife’s. Her eyes sparkled with teasing. He tamped down his jealousy and focused on the fact that she wouldn’t have dreamt of teasing him only a few short months ago.

“You’re heartless, woman,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his morning whiskers.

She giggled at the tickling sensation. “Stop that.”

“No more teasing then,” Boden said, lifting his head.

Willow bit her bottom lip to hide her smirk. “No. None.”

“Now that that’s settled let’s get back to unwrapping our Christmas presents.”

Boden met word with action and untied the ribbon holding together the neckline of her nightgown.

Willow’s hands slipped down her husband’s bare body. “Someone already unwrapped my present,” she said in mock disappointment.

“You’ll just get to enjoy the gift all that much faster.” Boden wiggled his brows.

Willow laughed.

They both went about enjoying their Christmas presents.

LATE IN
THE MORNING,
Willow and Boden made it out of bed.  Willow couldn’t remember a better Christmas.  The Christmas tree in the parlor waited for them in the far corner of the room.  Willow drank in the scent of pine.  She loved that smell and would be sad to see the tree and its fragrance go once Christmas passed.

She looked at the two presents beneath the tree and wondered what Boden could possibly have gotten for her.  She had never thought of more to give him besides monogrammed hankies, and now she blushed in embarrassment.

Boden took her hand and drew her closer to the tree.  He stooped down to retrieve her present.

“Oh no, open mine first,”
Willow suggested.  At least her present wouldn’t be anticlimactic that way.

“All right, if you really want me to.” He picked up the package and shook it slightly.  He looked just like a little boy, trying to guess what his present might be.  “I’m not sure what it is, but I hope it’s something you made for me.”

He’d probably said that to put her at ease, knowing that was all she’d likely been able to get him. Why else would he want something made by her hands?

Ezra made short work of opening her present and to Willow’s surprise, he appeared genuinely pleased at her gift.  “You stitch nicely,
Willow.”

She found that an odd comment.  Since when did men notice the care put into stitches?  Then again, a man like Ezra missed few things.

“I’ll have something you’ve made to remind me of you all day.” Boden smiled then and drew her in for a kiss. He was a man easily pleased and that pleased Willow.

When they drew apart, he placed his gift for her in her hands.  “Now it’s your turn.”

She imagined he held his breath as she opened his gift.  Her breath caught, too, once she saw what lay inside the box.

“A ring.”

“A wedding ring,” Boden clarified, taking the ring out of her hands.

Willow watched with tear-filled eyes as Boden dropped to his knees. “Will you be my wife, Willow Boden?”

“I’ve already sworn to.”

“You didn’t have much of a choice then.  I’m giving you a choice now to say it willingly.”  He caressed her left hand in his as he awaited her reply.

“Yes, Ezra, I will.”

She expected him to put the ring on, but he hesitated a bit longer.  He seemed to be gathering his thoughts for something more he wanted to say.

“I got this ring for you to show others that you are mine, special to me.  But more than that Willow, I got it because I wanted a symbol of the promise I made to you.  I’ll love you, cherish you, and protect you for as long I have breath in my body.  I want you to know that every time you look at this ring.”

He slipped it on her finger, but
Willow felt the action more than saw it, her eyes were so filled with tears.  She couldn’t help a small smile as well.  “For a man with a nickname like Butcher, you sure have a way with pretty words.”

“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I wouldn’t mind keeping that between us,” Boden said, rising and pulling her close.

“Your secret’s safe with me, but I’m not so sure it’s safe with you.  I can see your love in everything you say and do.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Boden meant it, but he hoped no one ever recognized how much they could rip him apart by taking her from him.

FRENCH SLIPPED BACK FROM
his place at Boden’s parlor window.  The poor lovebirds hadn’t even seen him there, so wrapped in each other they had been.  He sauntered a few paces away and lit a cigar.  He’d been saving his last one for Christmas Day.  He wasn’t sure when he’d get into town for another one.

But he had his plan now.  The legendary Butcher Boden had clearly demonstrated his weak spot—his wife.  If French took the man’s wife from him, he’d be insane with anger.  Everyone knew it was ice that beat fire every time, and French planned to stay cool when Boden came after him.  It would be his cool head that brought the former bounty hunter low.  He’d steal the woman away when she was alone and unprotected, and he’d kill the man who chased after them.  Then, he’d have his way with the woman.

He couldn’t lose.

He puffed rapidly on his cigar.

He’d get the glory for killing a legend, the pleasure of taking a woman, and the hefty remainder of his fee from the Boss.

As soon as the weather warmed, he’d put his plan into action.  Right now he had plans to make.

T
HE WEATHER WARMED UNCHARACTERISTICALLY
for the middle of January, and Boden welcomed the heat.  Well, that is if one could call thirty-five degrees heat.  It felt mighty good when one had grown used to single digits.  The snow melted rapidly, and Boden would be able to ride out farther on his land than he had in a long while.  He’d get a chance to check his cattle at close range.  He’d probably pray for a rapid end to winter once he saw how much weight his herd had lost.

One thing filled him with a bit of apprehension—leaving his wife behind.  He hadn’t been far from Willow’s side for several weeks now, and he wished he could take her out on the range with him.  He’d felt that old feeling creeping over him again.  The one that let him know he was being watched closely.  A tingle had worked its way up his spine several times over the past two weeks.  He hadn’t gone without his guns since.  He’d gotten a few questioning glances from his hands, but Nathan had taken his extra armor in stride and added a pair of pistols to his hips as well.

Boden had also made sure Willow kept the rifle within reach.

He’d given the order for the men to get saddled up and be ready to ride out about an hour ago and now they waited for him outside the corral. He glanced back at the house and wondered if he did the right thing leaving Willow alone, even Nathan’s boys rode along this time. He didn’t have much choice, however. His ranch needed his care if he was to provide for his family in the future, even his bankroll couldn’t absorb his ranch’s neglect. And hadn’t
Willow shown she could look out for herself?

Boden gave his riders last minute instructions.  They were to spread out and check the status of the herd, see if any seemed sick, too thin, and most of all check the numbers.  When he finished, he waved the groups out, but held up a hand when his group made to move out.

“Hang on a minute, boys,” Boden rode over to his porch and called out for Willow.  She appeared on the porch, the rifle at her side.  He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t manage to get in a word.

“I’ll keep an eye out, keep the rifle close, and keep any strangers passing through away from the house till you get back.”

Boden smiled.  “You’ve been listening.”

“I’d have been deaf not to hear you the dozen times you gave me your instructions,” she said with a good-natured smile.

He crooked his finger at her.  She walked to the bottom step of the porch, but clearly drew the line at muddying her boots.  That was close enough for Boden.  He drew his horse along the bottom stair and leaned out of his saddle to place a firm, brief kiss on her upturned lips.

He forced himself to ride away then. The hands riding with him looked as though they were having a hard time keeping smirks off of their faces, and the new hand riding with them, Randy, wasn’t even trying.

Boden ignored them all as they rode east.

THE WIND PICKED UP
as soon as Boden and his crew rode out, and Willow couldn’t help but jump at every sound it generated.  She called herself chicken, yet the hair on the back of her neck continued to tickle.  Her eyes drifted often to the rifle by the door, and the pistol Boden had given her upon their marriage was tucked securely in her apron pocket.

After she straightened up the house, she settled in the parlor to sew.  She was piecing together a few things for the baby as well as a new shirt for Boden.  The man had the awful tendency of ripping them out across the shoulders.  She worried that he lifted such heavy things, but he seemed to come away from the physical exertion none the worse for wear.  She wished his clothes could say the same.

Willow had never particularly enjoyed sewing, for she often stuck herself.  Her mind wandered as she made small stitch after small stitch, and she inevitably forgot what she was doing.  When she’d mended clothes for Roberts, her fingertips had come away sore and tender.  She didn’t mind the few pinpricks when she worked on Boden’s shirts. Sewing her husband’s shirts brought her a sense of pride and accomplishment.

She smiled slowly to herself as she remembered giving him the last shirt she’d sewn.  He’d looked on it in appreciation, saying he hadn’t had a garment sewn by a woman he loved since his mother had made his clothes.  He’d kissed her then.  The kiss had been warm and deep, full of intent.

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting her thoughts.

Willow jabbed herself with the thin needle.

She rose with her finger in her mouth and hastened to the door, her other hand checking the weight of the gun in her apron. Her heart beat quickly in her chest, and she fought down the knot of fear lumping in her throat.

It’s probably just a visitor
, Willow thought in an attempt to calm herself and laughed.  She and Boden had just read Poe’s “The Raven” the night before and the lines, ‘'Tis some visitor, tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more’ played through her mind.  Despite her laughter, she couldn’t help remembering Boden’s earlier words; he didn’t get visitors.  Well, except for Marshal Owens.  It was probably Owens. He’d said he’d be back soon.

The door opened before
Willow could get to it, and a tall figure stooped through the doorway, spurs jangling with his long stride.

She placed her hand in her apron pocket and gripped the gun.  She removed the pistol and steadied it in her hands, pulling the hammer back with her thumb. Wind whipped through the open door and the orange light of the setting sun shone behind the stranger, casting him in shadow.

“You always let yourself in unannounced, mister?” Willow challenged, willing her voice and hands to remain steady.

The stranger took another step forward and lifted his head.
Willow’s breath caught in her throat.  She stared into a pair of brown eyes, unsettlingly similar, yet strikingly different from her husband’s.  They were the same rich hue, yet the depths held nothing warm.  Willow’s first instinct was to lower her gun when she saw the resemblance between this man and her husband, but on second thought, she kept the gun leveled at his heart.

“And who might you be?”

The man didn’t answer; he only shut the door behind himself and relaxed against it.  His lips remained unmoving as though he needed to explain himself to no one, least of all to a very pregnant woman toting a Colt.

“I asked you a question, and I expect an answer,” Willow challenged.  She lifted her chin a notch in what she hoped looked like defiance.

“You always point a gun at kin who comes through your door?”  the man challenged.

Anger made Willow’s body heat.  How dare he?  He had barged into her home and as far as she knew, he was no kin of hers. “I don’t know you as kin, so you’d better state your business,” she refused to cower or to lower her weapon.

The man stood away from the door and took one long step in her direction.  “For a woman, you’re mighty confident.”

He’d shortened the distance between them significantly with his one long-legged step, but
Willow refused to back up.  This was her home.  “Take one more step and I’ll shoot.”

His mouth crooked in a half smile, half sneer.  “It’s a proven fact a woman can’t hit the broadside of a barn.”

He lifted his foot, but stopped his forward stride when a bullet lifted his hat from his head.

“Seems I can hit an even smaller target.”

The man stiffened, and Willow read the indecision in his eyes as he debated the wisdom of challenging her.  She hoped he chose retreat.  Even if Boden didn’t like his father, and this man could be no one else as much as he resembled Boden, she reckoned he wouldn’t appreciate her shooting him.

“Willow?”  The door opened, and Boden strode into the house, his face etched in worry. He caught sight of the stranger first, his eyes flitting over the man briefly before he cast his gaze on her,  assessing whether or not she had been harmed.  Once he’d gathered she held the upper hand, his facial expression didn’t change, but his eyes twinkled briefly at her before he cast his gaze upon the intruder.

“So, you’ve finally caught up with me, Pa,” Boden said, his voice icy.

Willow lowered the gun as Boden circled his father to stand at her side.  He placed an arm about her waist and bent low to whisper in her ear.  “You all right?”

I am now
.  His warm breath tickled her ear, and she caught his scent.  “I’m fine.”

He planted a kiss on the top of her head before gazing back at his father.  His eyes may have left her face, but he kept his arm firmly wrapped around her.

She was safe now.

BODEN FEARED FOR WILLOW'S
safety.

His teeth grated as his jaw clenched.  It was all he could do not to draw on his father and demand he leave.  Well, at least he’d had the pleasure of seeing his wife holding a gun on the man.  He’d heard the gunshot as he’d ridden up, and his heart had climbed high in his throat.  He should have known his wife could take care of herself.

“It’s nice to see you, son,” his father said, bending to pick up his hat.  “You’ve a right tomcat of a wife there.” The older man brushed imaginary dirt from his hat before putting a finger through the hole Willow had shot through the barrel of it.  “You should teach that wife of yours to mind her manners, though.”

“Should I teach her the same way you taught ma?” Boden asked, sarcasm and anger lacing his words.

The elder Boden shrugged as he placed his hat on his head.  “Sometimes it takes a strong hand to change a strong mind.”

Boden’s arm tightened reflexively around his wife’s waist, and he heard Willow’s intake of breath.  He instantly lightened his grip.  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.  “What have you come for?”

“I came to talk to you.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much to talk about.  I haven’t seen you in years for a reason.”

A tense silence reigned then, only broken when Willow stepped from his side.  He nearly tugged her back.  He didn’t want her anywhere near his father.

“I’ll get us some coffee. Sounds like the two of you have plenty to talk about.”

She gave his father a wide berth as she made her way past him and into the kitchen. The sounds of Willow making coffee filled his ears and drew Boden out of his silence. If she could act polite with his father, so could he. And he knew he’d have to hear his father out before the man would even think about leaving him alone.

“Sit down.” Boden in no way made the words sound like an invitation.  He took a seat by the fireplace and waited for his father to sit in the chair
Willow usually occupied.

“Don’t mind if I do,” the older man said as he folded his large frame into the chair.

“What are you really here for?”

“Can’t a pa visit his son?”

“I reckon, but I haven’t thought of you as my pa for a long while.  You’re just the other person who participated in bringing me into this world.”  Boden heard Willow’s soft tread as she brought the coffee into the parlor.  He stood and met her as soon as she crossed the threshold between the two rooms.

“Here, let me get that.” He took the makeshift tray she held.

He heard his father sigh.  “Always were a weak cuss.  Women are to serve men, not the other way around.”

“I doubt you’ve come all this way to discuss our differences of opinion on how to treat a lady.”

“No.”

Boden’s jaw locked again, and he barely kept himself from shouting for an explanation from the man when he didn’t continue.  He’d been looking forward to getting home to his warm house, and his warm wife after such a long day, but the day had grown even longer with his father’s arrival.

Willow made to leave the two of them alone then, but Boden needed her at his side if he was to talk with his father.  If Willow left the room, he wasn’t sure what he’d do to the man.  The thought of planting his fist in the other man’s face held far too much appeal for him.  He highly doubted that was the type of honor God had in mind when he’d spoken the Commandments to Moses.

“Take my seat,
Willow,” Boden said as he gave his father a cup of coffee.  She did as he asked, and he stood behind her chair, forcing his father to look up at him.  “Now to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I’ve come to apologize,” the elder Boden returned before taking a tentative sip of his coffee.

Boden couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips.  His father, apologize?  Never.  What was he up to?  Boden knew his father to be a master manipulator; he’d had years to watch his father perfect the technique on his mother.  Most likely, his father needed something from him or needed him for something.

“I reckon you’re a bit surprised.”

Boden handed his cup of coffee to Willow.  She watched both men with intelligent eyes, and he knew she took in every nuance, weighed his father’s words.  She wouldn’t be taken in by the man’s lies either.

“A bit surprised is an understatement.  As far as I can remember, I don’t believe you’ve ever apologized.”

“I haven’t, but Boden I’ve been taking stock of my life.  Law and order are coming to this territory.  Statehood is on its way, and I have plans for the governor’s seat.”