Wed To The Texas Outlaw. Carol Arens
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She arched a delicately shaped brow.
“I am the woman who has a signed certificate of marriage. I’m also addressed as Mrs. Walker. I am the woman who has shared the loft with you, whose bosom you have slept upon.” She curled up her fists and pressed them against his chest. “That makes you my husband.”
“Not the one you deserve. I’m—”
“Mine.”
“No.”
But he was hers. Whether he ought to be or not didn’t change the reality.
Oh, hell. He cupped her cheeks in his hands then came down upon her lips, kissing them hard.
Do you love stories of redemption? They are among my favourites.
To see our heroes and heroines face their demons and come out the better for it is deeply satisfying. To see them turn from an ugly past to walk in the light of love is at the heart and soul of courage.
In Wed to the Texas Outlaw Boone Walker must fight ruthless criminals. But none of them is more difficult to conquer than the guilt he harbours over his own past. His road to redemption might be a darkly troubled one were it not for Melinda Winston, walking beside him, lighting his path with her unshakeable trust. I hope you enjoy this story of darkness to light, of desperation to joy and new beginnings.
May the spirited Melinda Winston charm you. May the outlaw Boone Walker steal your heart.
Wed to the Texas Outlaw
Carol Arens
CAROL ARENS delights in tossing fictional characters into hot water, watching them steam, and then giving them a happily-ever-after. When she’s not writing she enjoys spending time with her family, beach-camping or lounging about a mountain cabin. At home, she enjoys playing with her grandchildren and gardening. During rare spare moments you will find her snuggled up with a good book.
Carol enjoys hearing from readers at [email protected] or on Facebook.
In loving memory of Jim Reed, who never left home without his pocket full of dog treats. Brother, we will always remember you as a best friend to man’s best friend.
Contents
Buffalo Bend, Texas, October, 1883
In the courthouse of the Honorable Harlan J. Mathers, located at the rear of the Golden Buffalo Saloon
“Mr. Walker, do I have at least your partial attention?”
The edge of impatience in the judge’s voice snapped Boone Walker back to the here and now. He shifted his gaze from the woman seated beside his lawyer to the matter at hand.
“Beg pardon, Your Honor.” From his seat on the elevated defendant’s chair, Boone tried to direct his full attention to the proceedings but it wasn’t easy with the piano player on the other side of the thin wall practicing the tunes he, no doubt, intended to perform this evening.
To Boone’s mind it sounded jarring and cheap. Even though he’d lived a tawdry life on the run from the law, he didn’t care for the irritating sound.
“Keep in mind that we are determining your future,” the judge declared, glaring at him from under bushy gray brows. “The decisions made here might grant you your freedom.”
He doubted that. Even if Judge Mathers personally handed him the keys to his prison cell, he couldn’t imagine that he would ever really be free.
Public opinion had branded him an outlaw and that stigma would follow him forever; a dirty shadow that the brightest day would not diminish.
A gust of October wind blew a hail of yellow and red leaves past the courthouse window. Public opinion or not, he wouldn’t mind having these cuffs off his wrists so that he could gather a pile of autumn’s glory, toss it up and watch the leaves fly where they might and land where they pleased.
In spite of the judge’s admonition, his attention returned to the woman. The public at large had not been admitted to this hearing. Other than a few curious faces peeking through the dust-smeared window, there was only him, an armed guard, his tenderfoot lawyer and the lady.
And she was clearly a lady, as pretty as they came. She leaned forward in her chair, watching intently while Stanley Smythe paced and presented his case. Her eyes crinkled in concentration, a fine