The Texas Ranger's Heiress Wife. Kate Welsh

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The Texas Ranger's Heiress Wife - Kate  Welsh


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ago. That day he’d just shut down, signed the papers, then walked away—left her. And he’d stayed away.

      Now, before she could decide what she wanted, lightning quick, his mouth was on hers. She tried to resist the leather-and-lime smell of him. But the battle was lost before it began. His kisses were meant to gentle her, and they always had before. They did now. And then the pleasure poured through her, along with that irresistible aroma of him. The firmness of his rangy muscles pressed against her length and the roughness of his callused fingers as he cupped her jaw made her want to feel his hands everywhere. She felt her own muscles go pliant, but then a nip on her lower lip demanded more. He wanted entrance. He wanted her to yield to him.

      No.

      She couldn’t.

      If she let him in again, he’d destroy her. Despite her resolve, her limbs felt no more substantial than gelatin as they melted into him. She finally managed to gather her wits and summon strength, mental and physical. She pushed him away. Backward. Hard. He fell against Harry, shock written on his handsome features. She wanted to berate him for taking liberties, but she could no more get the words out than he seemed able to make one of his classic wiseacre comments.

      He shook his head and mounted Harry. Then he stared down at her, cocky grin in place. “You look so damn cute when you get riled. Like a pretty little spittin’ kitten. Just couldn’t resist.” Then he tipped his hat and ducked through the stall door that led to the corral. He was gone before she remembered to close her gaping mouth. Which left her fuming. As usual.

      Damn him.

      Well, she’d show him, with all his security rules and plans. “Jimmy,” she called out.

      The tack room door at the far end of the aisle opened and Jimmy’s towhead popped out. “Yes, ma’am?” His hair was in his eyes as always and he had a smudge of something on his chin.

      She forced a smile. “I need my gig.” She cleared her throat and choked down the quaver she’d heard in her words. “Could you hitch it up while I go get my hat and reticule?”

      “Sure thing, boss. Sorry. Forgot it was Friday. Thought with the ranger here, you might not go. You need me to ride along?”

      “Ranger Kane plans to ride with me,” she lied. He’d be gone longer than she would. And if not, her absence would show him who was boss. “He’ll meet me along the ranch road. I’d help you harness up Gray, but...” She gestured to her green silk dress.

      Jimmy frowned. “You going to meet Mr. Avery?”

      She paused a second. “Are we friends, Jimmy?” she asked.

      His eyes widened. “I hope so.”

      “Have you come and eaten with me at the house?”

      “Sure have. Maria’s a fine cook. Oh. Mr. Avery is...”

      “My friend,” she finished. “The only difference is our ages and that the restaurant at the hotel is full of other people. Now, about the gig—”

      “Oh! I’ll get right on it. And no need to be thanking me all the time, neither.”

      She put her hand on his thin shoulder. “Yes, there is. My father taught me saying please and thank you costs nothing but a moment. And that there is never an excuse for bad manners with a friend or an employee.”

      “Your daddy sounds like a nice man.”

      Helena bit her lip and blinked away tears. “He was. And a good man. He helped a lot of people during his life.”

      Jimmy nodded as if he understood, but she knew he didn’t. Her father had been her world. No one had ever understood the utter void left in her heart when Harry Conwell’s larger-than-life personality had been erased by an assassin’s bullet.

      All she’d felt in the months that followed had been a bottomless well of loneliness. But then she’d stumbled across Brendan, and he’d filled the void with his all-consuming love. Then he, too, had gone from her.

      Twice.

      Because both times he’d found her wanting.

      “Ranger Kane’s real nice, too,” Jimmy said, breaking into her thoughts. There was a hopeful tone in the boy’s voice. “I miss him when he doesn’t stay in the bunkhouse, but he is your husband, so I guess he stays with you some nights.”

      Helena’s heart froze in her chest. She couldn’t answer or comment. She managed to say, “I’ll be right back,” then turned toward the front of the barn, blinking away hurtful thoughts and welling tears. Those were the nights he probably slept in some soiled dove’s bed.

      Loneliness assailed Helena. Maybe someday, somewhere, the person she’d become would be enough for someone else.

      If my memories of Brendan will ever let me move on.

      Until then, she’d have to make do with friends. Like a bandage over a gaping wound. She wasn’t about to let Brendan deprive her of a single one of the friends she’d made.

      * * *

      Brendan stood after examining the fresh hoofprint. It had the distinctive nick on the right side, marking it as one ridden in the raid on Belleza. The recent print hadn’t been scrubbed away by the brisk wind.

      A tremor of worry moved through him. Someone had been watching them. Watching the sentries he’d placed. The home place. The entire operation.

      That someone had ridden straight into the canyon not two hours earlier. He knew, because he’d tracked the bastard.

      Maybe Helena was right. Maybe he should camp out near the canyon. But the trouble with that plan was if the raiders struck from the ranch road, saving the northern canyon access for escape, he’d be thirty or forty minutes away when Helena needed him.

      Restless, Brendan walked with Harry to the top of the hill. The grass was crushed where their watcher had hidden, spying for Avery.

      Fury bubbled in Brendan’s veins as he mounted up and started downhill toward the home place. As he rode, he tried to weigh the pros and cons of going out to keep watch on the canyon or staying around to search for more bastards watching them.

      Pretty soon he came to a realization: he couldn’t push his emotions out of the mix where Helena was concerned. Then the major’s voice echoed in his thick skull, reminding him to delegate. So he’d station a man to watch their watcher, and he’d do the same at the canyon.

      Satisfied with his solution, Brendan rode to the heart of Shamrock and dismounted near the barn. As he tied Harry to the corral fence, Jimmy came tearing out of the shadows, bug-eyed. “Ranger Kane? What are you doing here? Did you miss the boss on the ranch road? You couldn’t have gone all the way and back already.”

      “What in hell are you talkin’ on about, son? I was up north. Been up that way all day.”

      “But the boss said...” Jimmy’s eyes widened again. “Oh. Must’a got it wrong. Forget it. You need Harry rubbed down?”

      The kid knew Brendan never let anyone else rub down Harry unless it couldn’t be avoided. Wouldn’t be right. Not with all they’d been through together.

      Brendan stepped forward and hooked his arm around the kid’s neck. “Jimmy,” he said, his voice quiet and low, “what’s goin’ on? Where has Helena got to that you thought I’d gone along? And tell me the truth. Think how bad you’d feel if somethin’ happened to her.” He gave the lad a little shake. “Where. Is. She?”

      “She goes to the hotel restaurant Fridays...w-with a friend.”

      Brendan ground his teeth, stepped back from the kid and turned to untie Harry’s reins, crushing them in his fist. Avery. He’d heard all about Helena’s Friday meals with that snake in the grass. Brendan took a calming breath. Helena had no idea of the kind of man who’d befriended her, and Brendan couldn’t tell her. Suppose Avery realized she knew? She’d become a sure target. That


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