The Rancher's Christmas Proposal

Her face grew ashen. “What have you done?”

He gripped her shoulders, shocked by her violent trembling. “He’s behind bars. He can’t bother you anymore.”

She vigorously shook her head and backed away. “You don’t understand. This is worse. This is much worse.”

“There’s a reward.” His declaration only sent her stumbling farther back, and his hands dropped away. “I had it sent to Marshal Cain in Cimarron Springs. The outlaw will never guess your identity. Contact the marshal and he’ll make the arrangements.”

Her pale lips pinched together. “I wouldn’t touch a dime of that money if my life depended upon it.”

“Why not? You spotted him. You’ve earned that reward.”

“Because it’s dangerous, that’s why. Claiming the reward money will lead the rest of his gang directly to me.”

Her fear instantly made sense, but there was an easy enough solution. “Come with us to Cimarron Springs, help me with the children. I’ll pay you for your trouble. I’ll even claim the money myself and hand it over to you. That way, you’re not involved.”

She jerked her head in a negative gesture. “You’ll put yourself in danger. I won’t allow that.”

“I’m a grown man.”

“You’re a father. You should consider your children. Lawmen aren’t always honest.”

The skeptical edge in her voice stiffened his spine. “I trust the marshal in town. He’s married to my cousin. He won’t put either of us in danger.”

Her shoulders slumped. She opened the door once more and stared into the room. He caught a glimpse of Alyce and Owen asleep on the bed, curled around each other like puppies, a bolster of pillows surrounding them.

“I know you’re strong,” he said. “I know you don’t need my help, but I need yours.”

Blood rushed in his ears. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d asked someone for help. He’d been independent since the moment his father had walked out on them, and he liked it that way. As long as he didn’t count on people, they didn’t let him down. Since arriving in Wichita, he’d felt as though he was unraveling bit by bit. If he let this go on any longer, there’d be nothing left of him.

“Never mind,” he said, reaching for the key. “It’s been a long day. I appreciate everything you’ve done. I had no right to ask for more.”

She yanked her hand out of his reach. “I’ll help you.”

It was too late to take back his offer, and gratitude and shame warred in his chest. She’d agreed to help him. She’d agreed because she’d seen him weak.

Tessa hesitated. “I’ll leave Cimarron Springs as soon as the reward arrives. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Earlier, a selfish part of him had hoped she might consider staying on, just until he found a suitable replacement, but she’d obviously anticipated his appeal. “I understand.”

Tessa had called him a good father before. She’d said he was doing the right thing by keeping the children with him. The truth was far less charitable. He wasn’t a fit parent for the children any more than Mrs. Lund. By refusing to face the impossibility of the situation, he’d been lying to himself rather than doing what was best for the children.

“Four o’clock,” he said, replacing his hat. He was done being weak. Once they were all back home, he’d finally make things right, even if it shattered him. He’d put himself back together before; he knew how the pieces fit. “We leave at four.”

Now that he’d committed to his decision, a cynical relief surged through his veins. The reward money made everyone’s life simpler. Without Tessa, there’d be one less person in town who’d been disappointed by him.

As long as nothing unforeseen happened, they’d never see each other again after the journey’s end. She was as good as gone. At least there was nothing left to go wrong.

* * *

“The reward money has hit a snag.” Marshal Garrett Cain spoke from his seat behind his desk.

“What kind of a snag?” Tessa demanded, covering the panic in her voice. “I was hoping to avoid a delay.”

She needed the money quickly. She’d already been in town for three days. That was long enough. Too long, really. She feared she’d run into Shane once more, and the cold shoulder he’d given her upon their arrival had made it abundantly clear that her presence was unwelcome.

“Let’s give Shane a few more minutes.” The marshal shook his head. “He needs to hear this, too.”

Tessa stifled a groan. Perched on the edge of her seat in Marshal Cain’s office, she tucked the edges of her skirts around her frozen ankles. Wind whistled beneath the door and frost coated the windowpanes.

She shivered and tugged her coat tighter. “There’s no need to bother Mr. McCoy, is there? This really doesn’t concern him.”

Though Shane’s rejection had hurt her more than she cared to admit, his absence was for the best. She was putting them all in danger the longer she stuck around.

“He’s on his way already,” the marshal said.

Perfect. She offered a tight-lipped smile of acknowledgment. Just what this day needed.

All the little nagging worries she’d harbored piled up around her in a suffocating heap. She’d had no more success in contacting Emmett, which meant her meager savings must stretch indefinitely. Though she’d scoffed at the reward before, a few days of introspection had given her clarity on the matter. Considering her situation, money was a good thing. Someone was going to collect that reward, and it might as well be her. Since she was no longer an outlaw, the code didn’t apply anyway.

She glanced across the desk separating them. The marshal held her gaze with a benevolent expression she imagined he normally reserved for relaying the news of untimely deaths.

“I don’t suppose your news is good news?” she asked.

“Nope.”

On that less-than-cheerful note, he stood, plucked several pieces of wood from the stack near the potbellied stove and stoked the fire. Though clearly not the best conversationalist, he was a fine-looking man with dark hair showing a feathering of gray at the temples. The lawman had a forthright manner and a direct approach that compelled honesty. The kind of man Emmett avoided at all costs.

Her mouth went dry. “You have me worried, Marshal Cain.”

And that was saying something.

The door burst open in a flurry of cold air and a young girl scooted inside. Realizing she had a brief reprieve before Mr. McCoy arrived, Tessa forced the tension from her shoulders. The newcomer flipped back her coat hood and stomped the snow from her boots on the rag rug.

The young beauty was in her midteens, showing the first blush of womanhood with her bright blue eyes and curly corn silk hair. “Shane is on his way,” the girl said. “He’s talking with Mama now.”

The marshal assisted her with her coat. “This is my daughter, Cora. Cora, this is Miss Spencer.”

The girl held out her hand. “Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Tessa tucked an escaped tendril of hair behind one ear. “Surely not. I only met your father this morning.”

“I didn’t hear about you from Papa.”

Heat crept up Tessa’s neck. Shane must have spoken of her—but why? She doubted she’d made much of an impression. Touching her cheeks, she hoped they weren’t flaming as hotly as they felt.

The marshal ushered his daughter through a second door at the rear of the office. Tessa caught sight of a jail cell and a flight of stairs through the opening.

“Enough, Cora,” the marshal ordered. “You’re making our guest uncomfortable. I’m guessing your mother will be along soon. Why don’t you run along upstairs and put on some coffee? You know where to find everything.”