The Texas Ranger's Heiress Wife

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 wouldn’t do.

Looking back at Jimmy, Brendan saw the lad was mighty worried. “I’ll keep it to myself that you told me.” He pointed, hoping to get the seriousness of the matter across to the boy. “But don’t you ever let her leave Shamrock alone. If she does, you find either me, Mallory or one of the men. Damn fool woman,” Brendan muttered as he turned back to Harry.

As he mounted, he wondered if she’d intended to ask for an outrider. He’d noticed how pretty she looked, but he’d not put that fact together with a jaunt to town. He’d never considered she might go there on her own. She’d already admitted she was scared. He’d have thought, given that fact, she’d at least have asked one of the hands to accompany her.

And she probably would have, he realized with a sinking feeling. But then he’d had to go and kiss her, just to rile that temper of hers up a bit more. That kiss had bitten him in the butt good and proper. It had probably set her thinking she’d do as she pleased to spite him. And it had reminded him of all he’d sacrificed for injured pride and his scruples.

“Just one more question, Jimmy. Where’d you get the idea I was supposed to be her escort?”

“She said so, else I’d never have let her go alone. Mr. Mallory’d have my hide.”

Brendan gave a quick tug on the reins and dug his heels into Harry’s sides, enough that the gelding knew there was reason to be in a hell of a hurry. “Damn the woman,” he spat out as he tore up the ranch road. It was bad enough that she’d go off alone, but now that poor kid back there was scared spitless.

And so was her stupid, thoughtless husband.

Suppose the damned watcher had seen her leave alone? Heart pounding, Brendan leaned over Harry’s neck and urged him on. He found himself praying Avery was so enamored of Helena he wouldn’t think to throw suspicion off him by seeing her come to harm. Brendan had hoped all along she’d be safer not suspecting her supposed friend, but jealousy still ate at him.

Jealousy he knew he had no right to feel.

He didn’t know how to act when he found them having their little t?te-?-t?te. He’d better be deciding right quick. She was his wife, after all, and he’d already let it be known he was home to stay. So how should he approach the situation in town, with everyone watching?

No doubt Helena would act like the fine lady she was, lest she be seen in a poor light. He didn’t want to lend fodder to the gossip, either, so he’d keep his own temper under wraps no matter how much he loathed that murdering bastard Avery.

It wasn’t till Brendan found her gig in front of the hotel that he decided what he’d do. He climbed down, tied Harry to the rear of the conveyance, pulled off his saddle and tossed it into the back. He rubbed Harry down a bit with his blanket before tossing it next to the saddle. All that was left was to climb up, settle back in the fine leather seat and wait.

* * *

Lucien Avery was a patient man. More than one fellow who’d crossed him had found that out the hard way. But his adversary this time was a lady of some fortune. Winning this kind of battle took care. And planning. It had been moving forward perfectly until Kane decided to take an interest in Shamrock.

Avery had waited nearly two years for Helena Kane to have her fill of her husband’s desertion and fall in line with Avery’s plans. By his calculation, she’d been mere weeks from being able to divorce the fool. It was a bit risky to murder a Texas Ranger, but with Kane having moved to Shamrock, it had begun to look like the only option.

Today alone, while acting the perfect gentleman with her, Avery had suffered through talk of the Varga women leaving town. Somehow he’d managed not to show how angry he was with their refusal to sell him Belleza.

The don had disinherited his son, so it was the women’s to dispose of. But neither would speak of selling, or cutting Dylan Varga out of the property. They preferred to take time and consider their options. Avery would have to set his men loose on the son’s place again. When the damned Varga women learned the Comanche had killed Dylan and his little wife, they’d sell both places rather than return where so much tragedy had befallen their family.