A Cowboy Christmas. Janette Kenny
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Reid inclined his head. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Will you? You always were a cocky bastard. But then you have the blood of nobles flowing in your veins.”
Mallory, the wily old goat, knew the truth Reid held close to the vest. He was an English nobleman’s by-blow, disowned by his father long before Reid’s mother died giving him life.
“I’m still a bastard, Mallory.” If Kirby Morris hadn’t cut a deal when he had, he’d be a dead one by now.
“Aye, you did ’em wrong, boyo. They ain’t coming back.”
His mouth stretched into a grim line. He’d given his brothers just cause to hate him, and damned if he knew how to right the terrible wrong he’d caused so long ago.
Guilt was a bitch to live with.
“Perhaps I’ll have the luck of the Irish after all.”
“More likely you’ll have the devil’s time of it,” Mallory said as he splashed whiskey into a shot glass, “when your past charges into your life with guns blazing.”
A possibility Reid hoped to avoid. He stepped out and let the wind blow the rest of Mallory’s dire predictions back inside.
No matter how much he groused about his fate, he’d made the right choice. Never mind it’d been the only one at the time. If his skin felt a mite tight for him at times, so be it.
He was ready to live up to his end of the bargain now. Or had been until he’d hired a fetching house cook that had him thinking of dishes best served warm in bed.
Reid squinted against a punishing sun, searching for Miss Cade. He spotted her easily down the street, thanks to a royal blue cloak snapping in the wind like a bullfighter’s cape. He hadn’t known her hair was the color of whiskey until now.
The back of it was caught up in an intricate weave of sorts and that touch of red glowed in the sun.
Reid headed toward Miss Cade, his blood running thick and hot with need. He had a fondness for fair-haired women.
She tugged the full hood up and ended his ruminations of taking the pins from her hair and running his hands through it. By damn, but the lady was a sparkling gem amid a blanket of white. She’d be living in his house, a constant temptation for him to take what he wanted and damn the consequences.
He paused to let a buckboard churn by, the bed laden with goods and squealing children huddled down in a bed of straw. He knew the whole family worked their behinds off on their ranch due north of his, yet he’d never seen a happier brood.
Simple pleasures.
He’d never known what it was like to have the love of family until he’d lost it. Now there was no getting it back.
Reid caught a glimpse of Adam Tavish plowing through the muck in the street. He, too, seemed arrested by the sight of Miss Cade.
Though the U.S. Marshal swore he was on the trail of the Kincaid gang, Mallory told him that Tavish had been asking an awful lot of questions about Reid. It wasn’t the first time a lawman had inquired about his past.
The fact remained that Reid had left word everywhere, all but begging his brothers to come back to Wyoming. He’d also baited a trap for the man accused of killing Lisa True, letting it be known that Slim was at the Crown Seven as well. But so far the only one sniffing around was the lawman.
As for Ezra Kincaid? He’d likely be watching.
If the old outlaw was out there, he was holed up planning his move. That worried Reid the most.
Truth be, he was relieved Tavish was dead set on stopping the old rustler who surely must be drooling over Reid’s thoroughbreds. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be on close speaking terms with Tavish.
Considering his past, Reid was careful to keep his distance from the local sheriff and the marshal. But with Tavish reaching Miss Cade first and guiding her into the livery, he couldn’t very well do that today.
Ice crunched underfoot as he made his way to the livery. He wrenched open the door, finding Miss Cade and Tavish squared off inside.
He knew the feeling.
Reid gave the livery boy a nod to ready his sleigh.
“I see you’ve met the marshal.” Reid stopped beside Miss Cade, sparing Tavish a dismissing glance but feeling the man’s curious gaze skewer him all the same. Was that annoyance he saw in her eyes?
“Yes, he was just assuring me that this is a quiet, lawful community,” she said.
Tavish favored Miss Cade with his good-ol’-boy smile that didn’t fool Reid one bit. “You never did tell me what brought you to Maverick, Miss Cade.”
She flinched this time, a slight tremor Reid attributed to a case of nerves. Until he got a closer look.
The lady was clearly angry and her ire was directed at the U.S. Marshal. Damn, what had Tavish said to her earlier?
“I’m taking over Mrs. Leach’s role of cook at the Crown Seven Ranch while she’s away,” she said.
Tavish thumbed back his hat, revealing a pair of observant green eyes that no doubt had saved the lawman’s ass on more than one occasion. “Pardon me for saying, ma’am. But most cooks I’ve met tended to sample their fare a bit more than necessary.”
It was the truth, but Reid took umbrage with the way Tavish looked at the lady, like she was a tasty morsel and he was starving. Never mind Reid had done the same earlier. She was his employee, and judging by her tightlipped expression, she didn’t wish to tarry in Tavish’s company.
“So, where have you worked before, Miss Cade?” Tavish asked, his conversational tone at odds with his shrewd perusal.
A dull flush blossomed on the lady’s cheeks, and the rigid set to her shoulders seemed an odd reaction, in Reid’s estimation. “The Denver Academy for Young Ladies.”
“Do tell?” Tavish’s eyes took on a calculating glint.
“I fear I’d bore you with stories of teaching young ladies to acquire discriminating tastes,” she said over the tinkling of harness bells. “Besides I am sure Mr. Barclay is anxious to be on his way.”
“Another time then. Afternoon, ma’am.” Tavish slid two fingers over his hat brim but stayed rooted to the spot. “Barclay.”
Reid dipped his chin in farewell, then guided Miss Cade to the red sleigh. “You leave your baggage at the depot?”
“Yes. I have a small trunk and a carpetbag.”
A rarity for sure. He’d warrant Cheryl would drag all manner of trunks and valises with her from England.
“After we retrieve your things, we’ll stop at the mercantile. I suggest you select anything you need for yourself or the ranch now.”
“I have everything I require with me.”
“Fair warning, Miss Cade. We won’t be coming into town for a week or more.”
“I’m sure everything I’ll need is at the ranch.”
Reid expected she’d say that. So why did he have the sudden feeling he’d be going hungry this night—and in more ways than one?
Chapter 2
Ellie settled into the sleigh beside Reid Barclay, more than happy to put distance between herself and the nosy marshal. Heavenly days, the last person she’d expected to get trapped in a conversation with was the man who’d sworn to hunt down her pa and bring him in—dead or alive.
If her mind hadn’t been focused on the mysterious glint in Reid Barclay’s eyes and the jolt of sensual awareness his mere touch evoked in her, she would’ve paid attention to her surroundings. As it