Judith French - Morgan's Woman

Mrs. Zajicek had offered her a loan and promised to secure her a place in a party that was leaving Denver for San Francisco. The older woman had assured her that there were two respectable ladies traveling with their husbands and small children.

One lady, a Mrs. Tourtillott, had expressed a desire to find a woman of good character to help her with her little ones on the arduous journey. Mrs. Zajicek felt certain that with her personal recommendation, Tamsin could have the position.

The thought of being in Helen and Dimitri's debt was depressing, yet Ash had already promised to supply Dimitri's expenses in defending her. That amount must certainly be repaid.

She had known Ash Morgan for a matter of weeks, not months or years. When she'd proved herself to be such a poor judge of men in the past, could she surrender all her dreams for a man who was a virtual stranger? Throw herself on his mercy simply because she thought she was in love? Would she have felt the same way about Ash if he'd simply come courting her in a yellow-wheeled buggy? Or if he was a grocer rather than a dashing bounty hunter?

The unease in her belly passed, but her mind would not stop churning. She forced herself to drink a glass of water and brushed and braided her hair. It was barely dusk through the dusty window when she climbed into bed, determined not to shed tears over her hapless state. In the morning, when this day was behind her, she would make a decision about Ash Morgan and her own future.

In the morning, she promised herself.

"The hell you will!" Ash said. It was nearly noon the following day, and Tamsin was mounted on her chestnut mare with the Appaloosa and stallion in tow. Ash had followed her out of Sweetwater onto the Denver road after a late breakfast with Dimitri and his wife.

Tamsin hadn't been out of sight of the town when she'd announced that she was joining a wagon train to San Francisco.

"Who's going to stop me?"

"I am." He reined Shiloh so close to Fancy that his duster brushed Tamsin's skirt. "You're not going anywhere without me."

She threw him a look that would have soured milk. "I think I'm in love with you," she said.

"You do? Well, that makes sense. You're in love with me. I'm about to ask you to marry me, and you're running away."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Marriage? With you?"

"Hell, no, not with me! With my horse. What's wrong with you? Have you lost what sense you have? I'm asking you to be my wife."

She clicked the chestnut into a trot. "It's an odd way to ask a lady, I must say." Her chin firmed. "You've said nothing about love."

He snatched off his hat and threw it onto the ground in disgust. "Damn it, woman, it's not a thing I should have to say. You ought to know how I feel about you."

"Should I? A gentleman would make himself perfectly clear."

Feeling foolish, he circled Shiloh and scooped up his hat. "You think I'm just going to let you ride out of my life? After you shot Jack Cannon to save me?"

"Not out of your life." She pulled up her mount. "This is too sudden, Ash, too fast for either of us. I'll be in San Francisco. I want you to think about this for a few months, then if you still want me, you can write to me in care of general delivery, and-"

"That does it." Jabbing his heels into his gelding's sides, he guided the horse close to Tamsin and lifted her out of the saddle.

"Stop! Put me down," she protested as he dragged her up in front of him.

He stilled her thrashing with a sound kiss.

"Marry me, Tamsin," he whispered when they came up for air. "Marry me and take me to California with you."

"Do… do you mean it?" she stammered. "Do you really love me?"

He kissed her again, and her arms went around his neck so tightly that he could hardly breathe.

"What will you do in California?"

"Build you that damn horse ranch you're always clamoring about. Surely you can find work for a halfway decent wrangler on it."

"How do I know you'd make a good wrangler?"

"I rode that Satan-born imp of yours, didn't I?"

"That was downhill in a rock slide and later when people were shooting at him. Dancer was too frightened to put his best effort into getting rid of you."

"He seemed to try."

"Maybe," she admitted. "But I won't have any ranch, not for years. I'm broke. I don't have anything but these three horses and…"

"Tamsin MacGreggor, will you never shut up. I've got enough for both of us."

"What?"

Shiloh came to an abrupt halt, and he swung down out of the saddle and lifted her down. "Look in my saddlebag."

"In your saddlebag?" she repeated. "Are you deaf as well as addled?" He yanked open the leather pouch and filled her hands with certificates of deposit. "I never expected to live long enough to settle down, but I saved what I made, just in case. The reward for the Cannon brothers will pay our way to California, and this should buy your precious land."

"You're serious?" She swayed against him, and he held her so that her red-gold hair tickled his face and he could smell her fresh, sweet scent.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Mrs. MacGreggor, and I'm not dumb enough to let you get a mile away, let alone to California."

"You really love me?" He chuckled. "What have I been saying?"

"I'm not sure. What have you been saying?"

"You're not letting me out of this, are you?" He smiled at her. "I love you, Tamsin MacGreggor. Love you with all my heart and soul. I should have known it sooner, but I never claimed to be the smartest man west of the Mississippi."

"Will you still love me tomorrow and the day after that?"

"I'll love you as long as the sun rises in the east, woman. And if it doesn't, I'll love you just the same."

"All right," she answered softly. "I'll make you a deal. If you can ride Dancer back to Denver without him throwing you into the dirt, I'll marry you."

"I'd ride the devil's wind for you."

"Then I'd best be your wife, for I'm not likely to get an offer like that from a finer man."

"You'd better make your vows with me," he answered. "I intend for you to be carrying our first child by the time we get to San Francisco."

"I think I can promise that." And then she rose on her toes and kissed him, and he stopped thinking of anything but the woman in his arms, the woman he meant to love and cherish for the rest of this life and into the next.

California

Autumn 1876

The two outlaws tied their ponies and crawled on their bellies toward the corral beside the main stock barn on Tamsin's Hope. "Keep your head down," the first desperado said. "He's fast on the draw."

"Not fast enough," his comrade hissed. Ash's back was to the fence, his attention focused on the bay colt. On the far side of the pound, the chestnut mare laid back her ears and gave an anxious whinny. The foal responded with a high-pitched squeal.

"Easy, Cheyenne," Ash soothed. He stroked the colt's velvety nose, ran his hand up to scratch behind the twitching ears, and buckled the halter. "You be quiet, too, Fancy. Nobody's going to hurt your new baby."

The little bay laid back his ears, quivered all over, and sneezed. Then he raised one dainty front hoof and pawed the ground.

"Shh," Ash murmured as he offered the colt a piece of apple. "By next week you won't even notice you're wearing a halter." He released the lead line, and the little horse ran to his mother and began to nurse.

"Go for your gun, bounty hunter!" the younger pistolero shouted.

"Give us all your horses and all your gold!" his amigo demanded.

Ash turned. His eyes narrowed as he stared into the green eyes of the outlaw leader. "I've been looking for you two for a long time."

"Yeah?" the smaller, dark-haired bandit said cockily. "Well, we been trailin' you, too, bounty hunter."