Lone Wolf's Woman. Carol Finch
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a stranglehold on the intruder’s throat and a pistol pressed threateningly against his temple before he could react.
To Lone Wolf’s frustration, however, Julia flagrantly disobeyed his order by darting across the gallery to position herself in front of his captive. He made a mental note to sit this foolhardy female down later and read her every line and paragraph of the riot act. He had specifically told her to never again put herself between him and a potential threat.
And damn it, she had done it twice in the same night!
“Jules, it’s me!” came the chirping voice.
Lone Wolf frowned when Julia gestured for him to release his captive.
“It’s Maggie,” Julia informed him.
“Maggie?” Lone Wolf stepped back a pace then expelled an exasperated snort. “I would sincerely appreciate it if the women around here would wear dresses so I can tell who’s who.”
When Maggie Griffin pivoted to face him, he went very still. Her wide-eyed focus trailed down his bare chest to survey the white sheet that glowed in the moonlight. Then she glanced bewilderedly back and forth between him and Julia. When her attention shifted to the door that led into Julia’s bedroom, he knew exactly what she was thinking. Hell, he could practically hear her thinking it.
“Maggie Griffin, meet my husband, Vince Lone Wolf,” Julia introduced without missing a beat.
“Your what?” Maggie croaked as she staggered back a pace. “The Lone Wolf who—” She clamped her mouth shut, then blinked owlishly at him…and at his state of undress. “The legendary bounty hunter? That Lone Wolf?”
He nodded, clamped both pistols between his side and left elbow, and then reached out to shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you.” He had waited years to make her acquaintance, to see what she looked like, to see how she reacted to him.
She didn’t move, just stared at his hand.
Eventually she pulled the concealing cap off her head to let a thick mane of sable hair tumble around her shoulders. Finally she offered her hand and a tentative smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Lone Wolf. Vince was my grandfather’s name.”
Lone Wolf studied her trim statuesque figure, enchanting face and long-lashed blue eyes. She reminded him of the memory he carried of his mother, the white captive who had caught the rapt attention of his Cheyenne father.
He interrupted his assessment to look at Julia, who was frowning at him. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what he had done to annoy her. But the instant she saw him staring curiously at her she manufactured a smile, then slipped her arm around Maggie’s shoulders and turned her toward Adam’s room.
“What are you doing here at this time of night, Mags?” Julia asked.
“Adam was supposed to meet me at the usual place at ten o’clock. When he didn’t show up I came looking for him.” Her accusing gaze settled on Julia. “Why didn’t he mention your wedding? Was it tonight? I would have found a way to attend if I had known. Is that why he didn’t meet me?”
Julia flung up her hand to halt the barrage of questions. She turned to Lone Wolf. “Why don’t you get dressed, dear, while I explain things to Maggie.”
When he wheeled around and disappeared into the bedroom, Julia tossed aside the foolish stab of envy she had felt when her supposed husband made such a thorough study of Maggie. Julia knew she paled in comparison to Maggie Griffin, who was the picture of feminine grace, deportment and refinement. Julia had never had a problem concealing her insecurities before, and no man’s opinion or interest in her had mattered until she met Vince Lone Wolf. But suddenly she was disappointed that he took his sweet time appraising her best friend’s startling blue eyes, peaches-and-cream complexion, winsome smile and dainty figure. Julia had thought he found her mildly interesting…until Maggie arrived.
Now Julia was just an afterthought.
She wanted to punish him for making her feel less than feminine and desirable compared to her oldest and dearest friend.
Would you listen to yourself! came a scolding voice inside her head. Her brother had barely escaped death this evening and she was inwardly stewing over her inappropriate and ill-fated fascination with this bounty hunter. She was a poor excuse for a sister if she couldn’t keep her mind focused on Adam and his difficult recovery from a gunshot wound.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?” Maggie demanded. “When and where did you meet the bounty hunter? Last I heard there were three other suitors on bended knee, trying to get you to agree to marry them.”
Julia waved off the rapid-fire questions then grabbed Maggie’s hands in her own. Small hands that were devoid of calluses. While Julia jumped in with both feet to assume the duties at their ranch, Sol had forced Maggie to play the genteel hostess and reigning princess at Griffin Ranch.
Of course, that did not imply that Maggie approved of her lot in life. It only meant that Sol held unrealistic expectations for his only daughter and expected her to follow his dictates. Maggie had learned to be discreet and inventive in order to remain true to her nature and her heart’s desire.
Julia drew a calming breath and tried to think of a delicate way to tell Maggie what had happened. There wasn’t a good way to sugarcoat this disaster so she simply spit it out. “Mags, my brother couldn’t meet you this evening because he was bushwhacked.”
“Oh, my God!” Maggie gasped as she lurched past Julia to check on Adam.
From out of nowhere Lone Wolf appeared to clutch Maggie’s arm and tow her backward. “Adam was seriously wounded,” Lone Wolf said gently.
“Oh, God…oh, God,” Maggie chanted.
“I’m going to give you the same advice I gave Julia,” he hurried on. “Don’t fall to pieces in front of a man who’s racked with pain and shot to hell. He needs to see optimism, a show of inner strength and encouragement. He needs to see your confidence that he is going to pull through. Can you do that for him?”
Maggie bobbed her head, sniffled, then drew a shaky breath. “You’re right, of course. Yes, I can do that. I have to see him.” She gathered her resolve and stiffened her spine. “I would like to hire you to track down the dastardly man who did this to Adam.”
Julia inwardly grimaced as she and Lone Wolf exchanged discreet glances. She did not relish sharing her suspicions with Maggie. Just how did she tell her dearest friend that her father had most likely ordered the execution attempt on Adam?
When Maggie eased open the door to Adam’s room, Julia was one step behind her, ready to offer the kind of moral support Lone Wolf had provided for her.
She swore she was viewing her own startled reaction to Adam’s fragile condition. It was all there on Maggie’s delicate features. The fear, anguish and frustration. She eased down on the edge of the bed to clutch Adam’s hand and hold it next to her heart. Then she brought his fingertips to her lips.
“I love you, Adam. More than life itself. I cannot imagine how I could survive without you.”
Julia cast Lone Wolf a sidelong glance, noting that he was surveying Maggie intently. When he smiled faintly, Julia frowned, completely bemused. What the devil was he thinking? she wondered. More to the point, what was he feeling?
She could have sworn this swarthy bounty hunter had taken one look at Maggie’s enchanting face, shapely figure, polished manners and had become bewitched. But his expression seemed to hold something more than masculine approval, which left Julia confused.
Her perplexing thoughts trailed off when Adam’s eyes fluttered open. “Mags…” he said raggedly.
“Thank God you’re all right,” Maggie murmured as she brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Julia told me what happened.”
Not all of it, Julia silently amended. She really was dreading that upcoming conversation.
“You