The UndertakerThe Undertaker
By Lauryn Hale
Published by Awe-Struck E-Books
Copyright ©2001
ISBN: 1-58749-081-1
Electronic rights reserved by Awe-Struck E-Books, all other rights reserved by 
author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without 
the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the 
copyright law.
PROLOGUE
He counted each bill as it hit his palm. The sheriff looked respectable enough, 
but one could never know for certain in the west. Men were bought and sold with 
a flick of the wrist.
"Thank you, um, Mr. Undertaker," the sheriff nervously sputtered, handing over 
the last of the money.
The infamous Undertaker acknowledged the remark with a nod. He turned to face 
the open doorway, tucking the bounty into his pocket. Standing still for a 
moment longer, he tested the sheriff's honor with his back. When nothing 
untoward happened, he bared his teeth in what resembled a smile but fell short, 
and stepped out of the cramped building.
With the Howard's hunting him down, nothing could be taken for granted. He 
scrutinized the small town noting every alley, every man, missing nothing. 
Although he saw nothing that alerted him of his enemies, he stayed wary. It 
didn't matter that he was hunted, so far he'd been a faster draw.
Until he foundher , nothing would matter.
His parched throat led him to the single saloon in town. The half-doors creaked 
in protest as he pushed past, leaving them swinging in his wake. The smoke 
filled room resembled any other saloon in the west; tobacco juice littered the 
rough-hewn floor, half-dressed whores eyed new arrivals with hope of an easy 
dollar, and men involved with a game of cards. None seemed to take particular 
notice of him.
Sauntering up to the bar, he ordered a double. The barkeep slapped the requested 
refreshment into his hand, spilling half the drink onto the dust-strewn bar but 
he barely noticed. His gaze had traveled around the length of the room, 
observing each patron, when one in particular froze his roaming eyes.
He couldn't believe his luck.
The filthy rodent sitting at the card table matched the glimpse he'd caught 
ofher husband. Could it be? Could fate smile on him that easily?
Casually strolling to the table, he pulled a chair up and straddled it, crossing 
his arms over the back. The men already playing glanced around in irritation, 
but the face of the newcomer discouraged their objections. They averted their 
eyes and remained silent as the stranger was dealt in.
He fell into the rhythm of the game, allowing himself to lose for several hands. 
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the man next to him, hoping for 
confirmation of his suspicions. It finally came, when another player spoke to 
the man.
"Buck, them cards ain't treatin' ya well tonight, huh?" The man laughed at the 
scowl on Buck's face, but the Undertaker merely ground his teeth in 
satisfaction.
He had him. After all the years of searching, he had him.
He began to win then, methodically divesting everyone of their earnings. 
Finally, all the men but Buck had folded and left the game. They sat close by to 
watch, their blue cigar smoke dancing in the flickering light. Buck didn't lose 
graciously. His face was splotched red with anger. His nose flared with every 
hand laid on the table. More than once, Buck's hand drifted to the rusty shotgun 
propped by his leg.
After being stripped of all his money, Buck slammed his fist down, scattering 
the money and cards.
"Ya lousy son-of-a-bitch, yer cheatin'!"
The Undertaker stood, scraping the chair back against the filthy floor. His 
hands caressed the cold metal of the pair of Colts at his hips. The room fell 
silent as all waited for the death of the foolish man called Buck.
"I suggest you watch your mouth,friend . The next time I'll lay you out on the 
floor with a bullet 'tween your eyes."
Buck paled but his mouth thinned, anger still at the forefront. "I can beat ya, 
I know I can. Let's raise the stakes."
The Undertaker narrowed his eyes, wondering what the man had in mind. He nodded 
his head but remained silent, waiting for Buck to throw down his idea.
"My land n'house for yer guns n'all that-there loot."
The Undertaker bared his teeth, pleased. He could afford any number of guns; his 
bounty on warrants allowed him that freedom. What really got him excited was 
that he'd learn precisely where she could be found. Buck was her husband; it 
stood to reason that she would be wherever his land was.
His nose flared slightly as the memory of her smell drifted through his mind. 
Lavender, she had always liked lavender.
He sank back into his chair, nodding his head for the deal to begin. The dealer, 
a former player, broke out in sweat, his eyes darting back and forth between the 
two men.
Buck jerked the cards from his grasp, smiling maliciously. "Ya don't mind if I 
deal 'em, d'ya?"
The Undertaker shook his head, his expression bland. None of his anticipation 
showed for the spectators. He'd been around outlaws too long to reveal so much 
on his face.
Anyone with half an eye would notice Buck dealing from the bottom of the deck. 
The Undertaker remained quiet. Either way, he would find her. She would answer 
as to why she'd married this fool.
His hand was good. A sigh escaped his lips and Buck took it as defeat, laying 
his cards down with flourish. Success flashed in his eyes when he saw Buck's 
hand, but it lasted only seconds before he tamped it down. One by one he laid 
down his cards, until the last lay face up, for all to see.
The men in the saloon hollered with astonishment and congratulations to the 
stranger. The noise died down as the spectators wondered off to the bar or a 
private table, to discuss, over their whiskey, the big game of cards that night.
Buck still glowered with hatred. He had no intention of handing over the deed. 
It may be needed for another bet some night. He'd skipped out on signing it over 
before. Tonight would be no different. A slice of pleasure wedged into his brain 
as he decided to have a little fun with this over confident man first. A good 
beating put many men back in their place in life. He didn't expect one of the 
pistols the stranger wore to be raised and aimed squarely at his head.
"If one of your friends move, I'll blow you to hell."
Buck's face drained of color and he nodded in understanding.
"Send someone for the sheriff. Now!" he hollered out in the saloon. Immediately 
the half doors swung open, emitting someone into the night. All the patrons sat 
on the edge of their seats, wary of where this would lead.
When the Sheriff rushed into the saloon moments later, the scene hadn't altered; 
the colt .45 was still aimed at Buck's forehead.
"What's all this 'bout?" the Sheriff asked, his tone authoritative. When he 
recognized the Undertaker holding the gun, the sheriff visibly relaxed. His 
expression changed to one of obvious respect.
"I need you to witness the signing over of the property this man owes me." His 
gaze stayed on Buck. He had no intention of releasing Buck from his sights until 
the deed had been signed and he knew where to findher .
Buck piped up then, a smug smile on his face. "I can't write."
"The Sheriff can write it for you. You can make your mark. We have enough 
witnesses to know you did it."
Reluctantly, he released the hammer on the Colt. Another full minute passed 
before the gun was lowered and replaced into its holster.
The transaction took place, with Buck signing an "X" in place of his name. The 
Undertaker eyed the document, recognizing the area the land was located at. It 
was legal. It was all his. The land and the woman. Finally, he would find her.
His eyes cast down, the Sheriff spoke quietly, "Mr. Undertaker, would you mind 
leaving with me. These parts can't be trusted for fair fights."
The meaning was clear to all in the room. Before the bounty hunter acquiesced, 
he bent down close to Buck and whispered into his ear.
"If I ever see you again, you bastard, I'll kill you on the spot. Stay away from 
Kristian!" A grin slid onto his face when Buck gasped with shock.
With that parting shot he left, straddled his horse and headed for his new home. 
Nestled somewhere in the Colorado Rockiesshe waited for him. His vision blurred 
with images of wild chestnut hair and flashing emerald eyes.
She didn't know it yet, but he was her savior.
CHAPTER 1
1869 in the Colorado Territory
He was dead. Honest to God dead, and she couldn't be happier. She felt 
despicable because of her joy, but that didn't change the overwhelming emotion. 
No tears of sorrow shone in her eyes. No sobs were held back behind her tightly 
pressed lips, but rather a sigh of relief.
She was free. Free to live her life. Free to make her own decisions. Free to 
raise her daughter, Reggie. No longer would she have to live in fear everyday, 
putting on a brave front for her child. The abuser was dead.
A sliver of grief was present for what could have been and never was. Heartless 
as it seemed she couldn't raise any grief for the man lying in the pine box in 
front of her.
She hadn't been allowed to view his body, having been several days since his 
passing. While this made her a bit uneasy, it made sense. She had no desire to 
see a rotting body. The sheriff in town had assured her he'd witnessed the body 
being put in. That was good enough for her.
Kristian could hear Reggie sniffling softly beside her but she suspected it was 
more from shock than sorrow. The five-year-old little girl had seen far too much 
in her lifetime. Kristian would change all that now.
With a hidden tranquillity at her newfound widowhood, she kept her head bowed in 
mock mourning and turned from the coffin. It was a cheap wooden box. No extras 
for a son-of-a-bitch like Buck Rosell. No doubt he had been reunited with his 
beloved Emily, who'd preceded him in death. Bless herprecious soul , she had 
left him half a man when she died, which wasn't saying much to begin with.
Kristian had taken to Emily the first time they'd met. Two years older than her, 
Emily had been fascinating. She'd seemed so worldly and all-knowing. 
Intuitively, Kristian had despised Buck on their first meeting, some inner voice 
warning of his evil.
If only she had listened to that insight and stayed away from the pair.
All the wasted years.
How many times had she wished she could change the choices made in haste? But 
Reggie had been worth it. If nothing else, Buck Rosell had allowed her to keep 
her daughter.
Gathering Reggie close to her side, Kristian proceeded down the long church 
aisle. Reaching the enormous solid oak doors at the back of the church she 
paused, hand flattened against the wood, eyes closed.
She felt as though she were leaving behind a part of her life, like a snake 
shedding skin, that, thank God, she would never have to return to. For her and 
Reggie only good things lay ahead in the future. She'd make damn sure of it.
She didn't fool herself into believing it would be easy, nothing came easy for a 
woman living in the west. At least now she would be making the choices for them, 
not an imbecile impersonating a man.
Reggie tugged slightly on her hand, anxious to leave the coffin containing the 
dead man behind. With an encouraging squeeze to the small hand tucked inside 
hers, Kristian pressed ahead and spared not one glance back for her deceased 
husband. The coffin lay alone in front of the rustic pine pulpit, underneath a 
finely carved and polished cross, the single pride the homely church possessed.
It seemed ironic to Kristian that the one time Buck Rosell attended church he 
lay inside a pine box, no longer breathing. How many times had the man said that 
he'd die before setting foot in any "damn" church? He'd gotten his wish, she 
thought.
The bright sunshine falling upon her face brought a smile to her lips. She heard 
the racket belonging to the town of Dover as the residents went about their 
daily rituals, oblivious to her liberation. Turning her face up to smile at the 
sun, and feel the warmth splaying across her closed eyelids, she sent a prayer 
of gratitude up to the heavens.
As she and Reggie descended the steps from the church, she glanced toward the 
three horses tethered to the hitching post. Five people had been inside the 
church to witness her husband's last rites. That included her, Reggie and the 
preacher, Reverend Lowell.
Earlier that morning the sheriff had unexpectedly shown up. He'd come out to 
tell herBuck was dead . He said the coffin was at the church in town and it 
would be buried before noon. He'd informed her a bullet in the chest had killed 
Buck. Kristian, hope mingling with doubt, had quickly gathered Reggie and 
hitched the wagon.
Upon her arrival, Reverend Lowell had whispered tender condolences, patting her 
hand. Kristian, distracted by the pine box looming at the front of the church, 
hoped she'd responded appropriately. She never once looked upon the kindly 
preacher's face, her shock so great. Her eyes had been riveted to the coffin, 
refusing to believe her sudden release from hell.
The other two men there sat in the back pew, eyes boring into her back. She 
didn't know them, didn't want to know them, for that matter. They looked 
disreputable, and the good Lord knew, she'd known her share of disreputable 
characters. She assumed they were some of the friends Buck had gone whoring and 
gambling with.
The crisp fall breeze swirled around her ankles billowing the thin, blue calico 
skirt. A stir of optimism that had been missing from her bone-weary soul, welled 
deep inside. Energy filled every marrow of her being, making her feel stronger 
than she'd been since the first time she and Buck Rosell's fist had met in 
bloody confrontation.
Resolving to look toward the future and close the door on the past, Kristian 
gathered her skirts in one hand, Reggie's hand in the other and confidently 
stepped toward their rickety buckboard.
Now that the strain Buck had always placed on the ranch was at an end; she could 
possibly turn a healthy living from it. In the past, every time she had started 
to get the ranch to turn over a profit, Buck would show up and ruin it all. 
Raping the funds, running off the help and turning everything into chaos. Then 
he would leave again and Kristian was left to pick up the pieces and try to put 
food on the table for Reggie.
Clucking softly to the horse hitched to the wagon, Kristian and her daughter 
began their two-mile trek home. The church stood at the far end of Dover, 
forcing her to ride through the center of town.
The small town had been steadily growing in the last few years. Of course, 
Kristian didn't know any of the other people living here. Buck had said it was a 
waste of time, socializing with folks.
Kristian hadn't agreed about the women of Dover. They had seemed approachable 
when she first arrived. Now, however, she presumed, they had formed their 
opinions of her. And, as she had learned in the past, opinions were hard to 
change once formed.
At times she had been lonely, but she had Reggie who certainly kept her busy. 
She once wanted a whole swarm of children but no more. She knew now that 
marriage was not for her. Being at the mercy of a man like Buck Rosell was 
enough to break anyone of their dreams.
Their wagon passed by Mrs. Gumby's Boardinghouse and the schoolyard, the general 
store and Dr. Redcliff's house. Nearing the Matheson's Stables, Kristian's 
thoughts strayed to the ranch. She had so many plans rushing through her mind, 
all the changes she was going to make at the Lazy R ranch.
Preoccupied with her ideas, she cried out in surprise when a man stepped out in 
front of the wagon. Kristian pulled hard on the reins, the horse's head rearing 
back from the force. The horse shied and nickered in protest, fighting his head 
for the bit.
"Whoa! Easy Nugget!" she called to the animal. The buckboard creaked and moaned 
as the tawny horse jumped and sidestepped with panic. Finally, she managed to 
get the animal settled down.
Holding tight to the reins, Kristian glanced over to the man standing a few feet 
away. "Pardon me, sir. I'm so sorry!"
Obviously taken by surprise, the man looked up at her from under a black felt 
hat. A shadow, cast from the brim, covered all of his face, except for the tip 
of his jaw. He possessed a deep cleft in the center of his chin, dark stubble 
tinting it. He wore a white shirt that had seen better days, a black vest and 
tight black trousers. A worn and faded black gun belt was strapped onto his hips 
and he carried a rifle with ease.
Kristian unconsciously held her breath as he raised the rifle with deliberate 
slowness and tapped the tip of his hat. With that one act of acknowledgment, he 
crossed the manure littered road and sauntered toward the town's single saloon, 
The Damnation.
The air she had been unaware of holding seeped out between her parted lips. 
Still rattled from the near accident, her gaze involuntarily followed the tall 
stranger.
His midnight black hair was a tad too long, curling over the back of his collar. 
The black trousers fit snugly over his buttocks, emphasizing his narrow hips. In 
awe, she stared at the expanse of his shoulders. They were wide enough to carry 
the weight of the world on them and still have room to spare. A quickening in 
the center of her body sent tingles reverberating through her.
"Mama," Reggie whined, tugging on her sleeve. "I'm cold."
Kristian snapped her head around and smiled at the girl. She patted Reggie's 
knee and reassured her, "I know dumplin', we'll be home soon. Here, let's cover 
up your legs, that'll help."
Pulling a threadbare blanket from the back of the buckboard, Kristian spread it 
across Reggie's lap, shielding her from the cool fall breeze. Winking at the 
child, she brought the reins down across the horse's back, starting them on 
their way again.
Kristian tried to concentrate on the ranch and the changes she'd been planning 
only minutes before. Her mind rebelled, repeatedly straying to the dark stranger 
she'd just about run down. Her reaction to him shocked her.
The man struck a cord of familiarity. She couldn't think of where she would 
possibly know him. She'd never joined Emily in pursuing men, shrinking from 
their leering stares instead. This man had seemed different in some way.
Nearing the homestead she stopped the horse and stared out over the lovely 
countryside that now belonged to her as Buck's widow. Dover lay nestled in a 
valley of the Colorado Rockies. The ride leading home was uphill and bumpy. The 
trail, worn from time and wagon wheels, coursed a barren scar across the 
otherwise green country.
The beauty of the dark blue and purple mountains combined with the breathtaking 
sunsets more than made up for any discomforts. Kristian had grown to love this 
place in the four years she'd lived here. The winters were long and hard, but 
she loved the serenity and clean beauty of the snow.
The homestead was built on a flat plateau cleared of trees. Soaring pines and 
evergreens surrounded her home and barn. The tops of the buildings could be seen 
from this distance. A long rutted path between tree trunks led into the ranch's 
yard.
"What are you doing, Mama?" Reggie asked.
Glancing down at the upturned face Kristian smiled. "Just looking, baby, just 
looking," she answered with a sigh. They sat for a few silent minutes, staring 
towards the homestead.
It was all hers now. She would answer to no one. It wouldn't be easy to run the 
ranch, but she would manage.
Looking down at her daughter, a merry twinkle in her eyes, she whispered, "It's 
all ours now, dumplin'. Everything is going to be alright. No more being 
afraid."
To her surprise Reggie flung herself into her mother's arms. "Oh, Mama! I feel 
horrible!"
Kristian absently rubbed her cheek against Reggie's bent head. She didn't have 
to ask what Reggie was speaking of. "It's alright. He was your father and it's 
normal to feel bad when someone you love passes on." Kristian stroked her 
daughter's long, velvety, black hair.
"But...But...I don't miss him! I'm, oh Mama," Reggie sobbed, tears streaming 
down her plump cheeks. "I'm glad he's gone! He was so mean to you. But I feel 
bad for being like that. I don't want to hurt his feelings!"
Poor little Reggie, Kristian thought. Her daughter had a kind heart that easily 
wept for those around her. She had lived in constant fear of drawing attention 
to herself lest she bring her father's wrath down upon her. Buck had never 
raised a fist to his daughter but Kristian had feared for the future. He had 
constantly reminded Reggie of her downfalls, the biggest being that she was a 
girl. Despite this, Reggie had never given up the hope of pleasing her father.
Bringing her daughters head back to her shoulder, Kristian reassuringly petted 
her locks. "It's alright, honey. He won't know how you feel. He can't ever hurt 
us again. Do you understand me, Reggie? He is gone and it's just you and me 
now."
With a tiny nod, Reggie sat up and smeared her tears across her cheeks with the 
back of her hand. She was growing up so fast and always trying to act older than 
she was. Buck had taunted her about being a baby and Kristian worried that would 
affect her the rest of her life.
Resolutely, she snapped the reins to prod Nugget to life again. It was time to 
move ahead. Time to make changes.
***
Slamming back the shot of whiskey, he savored the burning sensation as it slid 
down his throat. It cleared his mind of the emotions triggered by seeing her 
again, reminding him of his motivation. She had betrayed him, betrayed them, the 
love they had shared.
The sight of her had been unexpected. Arriving in Dover only moments before she 
almost ran him down, he'd been unprepared to see her. The bitter wall of pain 
around his heart quivered at the memory of seeing her perched on the wagon, 
concern flashing brightly in her emerald green eyes. After so many years, he'd 
not been disappointed.
She, however, had not recognized him. Not at all. The ache in his heart 
surprised him. He hadn't thought a woman like her would fall into his arms 
gushing tears, but he had thought she'd at least recognize him.
He knew he looked different now. How could he not? Acid did make changes in 
one's appearance. Everything about him was different. His innocence and boyish 
enthusiasm for life, erased by the truth of war. Hell, even his voice had 
changed, his screams breaking it for eternity.
Only thoughts of her had kept him alive. Memories of their pleasurable night 
together had kept him sane after the leagues of aching in the field hospital. By 
the time the war had neared completion, the traditional medicine no longer 
existed. Carbolic acid served as solvent and disinfectant; painkillers such as 
laudanum long since drained of supply.
Those wounded either made it or died. That simple. He'd lived, but only for her 
love. But two minutes ago standing within a few feet of her, she didn't know 
him.
"I said fill it up!" he growled, the menace in his voice causing his fellow 
drinkers to scoot away.
He liked it that way. No one bothered him, save the damn Howard's. Idly, he 
swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Maybe it was time to let them catch up to 
him.
After he had dealt with the scrap of flesh due him by the woman.
CHAPTER 2
Chins raised high; mother and daughter rode into the ranch yard. Kristian could 
see Reggie imitating her out of the corner of her eye and pride filled her 
heart.
Seemingly from every available spot, ranch hands poured out at their arrival. 
Kristian stood on the buggy and eyed the growing number of surly men. The 
majority openly perused her body. Gritting her teeth, she stared back at each 
one, just as boldly.
She noted that her wretched brother-in-law, Broody, was no where in sight. It 
didn't take any stretch of her imagination to deduce his whereabouts. Most 
likely, he was in the surrounding forest availing himself of the woman Buck had 
brought home, presumably as the cook for the hired hands. To her knowledge the 
woman, Rose, had never even warmed a pot of water. Rose satisfied an entirely 
different sort of appetite. The men were only too happy to cook for themselves.
She had appreciated the diversion Rose created and couldn't care less how many 
times the men of the ranch used her. There were several things that annoyed 
Kristian with Rose, one being her laziness. She spent her days lying around the 
house, half dressed, eating sweet treats that one of the hands would bring her. 
At the crook of a finger she would giggle and take off with whatever man wanted 
her. She often received presents from the hands, grateful for hertender 
ministrations.
All thatsweet attention had not only gone straight to Rose's head, but also 
noticeably enlarged her dresses, or what there was of them. All these things, 
Kristian could probably have overlooked if Rose had steered clear of Reggie.
For unknown reasons Rose despised Reggie. Constantly picking at the girl. 
Taunting the child with her father's scorn and whenever she found her alone, 
doing all she could to cause bodily harm. Kristian rarely allowed Reggie to be 
out of her sight, but on one such occasion Rose had purposely tripped Reggie, 
sending her face down into a mud puddle. Rose had laughed uproariously while 
bellowing for all to hear that the clumsy child should watch where she was 
going.
Kristian, rushing out to check on her child, saw the tears that slipped silently 
down Reggie's cheeks and lost the tight control she held on her temper. Gritting 
her teeth, a snarl curling her lips, she marched up to Rose. The larger woman 
stood with her arms crossed and a smug smile splayed wide across her face.
In that moment, she hadn't thought, merely acted on instinct. Using all the 
strength she kept in reserve, Kristian punched Rose square in the nose. Rose, so 
sure that she wouldn't react, was caught unprepared and stumbled backwards, 
falling right into a large mud puddle. Her widening backside caused such a 
splash, she found herself covered from head to foot with gooey mud. With 
gratified vindication for her daughter, Kristian had gloated down at Rose with 
loathing.
Only Buck's cold order for her to await him inside had brought Kristian back to 
reality. She allowed no one to see her shaking, and ignored the smile that came 
to Rose's lips. Chin held high; she had assisted her daughter up and returned to 
the house. When Buck followed her, he beat her for daring to render punishment 
to someone underhis control. Rose had celebrated for days over Kristian's black 
eye and bruised cheek.
Kristian knew she'd do it again if she had to. Reggie was her daughter, and 
she'd do anything to protect her. She held only contempt for Rose and the 
quicker she got her off the ranch the better.
Coming back to the present task at hand, Kristian drew herself up to her full 
height of five feet four inches and glared down at the ranch help. "It's true, 
Buck is dead. I'm the owner of the Lazy R Ranch now." She paused to let this 
sink into their stubborn hides. "Anyone who will not take orders from a woman 
needs to be offmy ranch by nightfall! Come by the house on the way out and I'll 
pay your wages." A staggering amount of men turned to collect their gear. 
Kristian did notice, however, that all the men who were leaving had been hired 
by Buck.
"The rest of you get back to work," Kristian said to the rest. She had hired the 
remaining men while Buck was away. Each of the men dipped their heads in silent 
answer and walked away.
An old cowboy, simply called 'Cowboy', came up to the buggy, his hand extended 
to aid Kristian's descent. She pointedly ignored his offering and stepped down 
from the wagon on her own. Handing him the reins, she turned back to wait for 
Reggie.
"Never did like Buck," Cowboy growled out. He waited for Reggie to descend 
before adding, "Anything you need Ms. Rosell, you just holler for me. I'll make 
sure things go smoothly." With that sentiment he tipped his hat to her and 
Reggie and led the horse and buggy towards the barn.
Kristian watched him hobble away, his gait irregular from an unspoken accident. 
He was an ageless man with white hair and deep wrinkles decorating his skin. He 
seemed to perpetually have a hunk of tobacco in his lip, but she'd never seen 
him spit. His clothes appeared relatively clean, compared to most hired hands. 
He seemed to be in fairly good shape for a man his age except where his shirt 
stretched tightly across his mid-section, pulling at the bone buttons that held 
the cotton shirt precariously together.
She had never picked up any animosity from Cowboy toward Buck. But then, she 
reminded herself, you never could judge a person by outward appearance. After 
all, hadn't she pretended a lot of things just to make it through her marriage 
alive? She wasn't sure he could be trusted yet, but was glad, whatever his 
reasons, for the show of support.
Turning around she faced the two-story, white-washed, hacienda-style house. 
Momentarily awed by the independence she felt, Kristian gazed at the small 
structure with tall thin windows as though seeing it for the first time. So many 
bad memories were enfolded within its walls. If she didn't start afresh from 
this very second she might not ever be free of Buck.
With a determined stride and a little hand tucked trustingly inside her own, she 
took the sturdy wooden steps leading up to the front door. The bottom floor of 
the house was divided into two rooms. The front entrance opened into the larger 
of the two.
Kristian ran her gaze around the room, skittering across the rickety furniture 
and the imposing stone fireplace opposite the door. Through the large oversized 
entryway to the kitchen she could see the back door. It opened to a covered 
porch stretching the length of the building. Three apple trees stood next to the 
flourishing garden, east of the back porch.
She didn't know who had built the home, but they had done a good job of blending 
it in with the property.Her property . Pride welled within her. It wasn't much; 
a simple house, a leaky barn, and broken down corrals, but she could make it 
into something. Of that she was certain. She had several hundred head of cattle 
and with luck she would double the number by next spring. She would change the 
name of the ranch.Lazy R, indeed. It would become much less lazy around here.
After a quick check around she discovered Broody wasn't inside, either. Reggie 
bounded up the stairs, eager to resume her playing. Kristian grabbed a flour 
sack from a carefully folded and stacked pile in the kitchen, and began to 
gather Buck's items from around the house.
What began as an act of cleaning became an act of vengeance. While he was alive 
she'd been unable to defend herself from him, but now he was dead and stuffing 
his remaining clothes and personal items into the sack made her feel good. 
Eventually, she retrieved more sacks and began throwing Rose and Broody's items 
in as well.
"Mama, should I get a sack and pack my things, too?" Reggie asked.
Pausing while holding one of Rose's black garter belts, she looked up at her 
daughter. So engrossed, she had been unaware of Reggie's presence.
Shaking her head, Kristian answered, "No, dumplin', only uncle Broody and Rose 
are leaving. You go on up to your room and play with the doll I made for you, 
alright?"
Reggie smiled, bobbed her head in agreement, and then scrambled up the stairs in 
a flurry of cloth. Nobody is going to scare that little girl anymore, Kristian 
thought with fierce determination. She dropped the bags by the front door, with 
a decisive thump. Before turning away, she brought down the old shotgun from the 
shelf above the door and loaded it with precise, determined motions. Tonight she 
wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
She kept the rifle by her side as the fleeing men arrived with their callused 
hands open, expecting their pay. Doing so took almost all the money she had, but 
it couldn't be helped. She would have just enough to buy a decent horse and food 
for the winter. Come the snow, she would have to let the hands go, save one or 
two, if she were lucky. That couldn't be helped either.
After checking on Reggie upstairs, she started a small dinner for the two of 
them. The kitchen boasted a large wood cooking stove, a small icebox and a pump 
over the washing tub. All of which had already been here when they moved in.
Kristian set the table for their simple meal of fried side pork and cornmeal 
mush, covered with homemade syrup made from molasses and water. She placed cut 
lavender on the table. She took extra pains to make the meal nice for the two of 
them.
She wanted Reggie to realize the fear was over, that today really was the start 
of a new life for them.
***
The man rode on the horse as if born there. The two glided across the open 
fields and around the large boulders decorating the green scenery. He avoided 
the rutted wagon road, unwilling to draw attention upon himself. Strategically 
he remained in the shadows of the soaring pines and evergreens.
When he was close enough to see the homestead he slowed the horse down to a 
walk. It wouldn't do to reveal his presence before he was ready. Soon, he 
whispered, soon he would have her again.
The hands leaving the ranch rode close on their way out, but didn't glance his 
way. They didn't even appear to notice him. The same was true for the remaining 
hands. He almost wished someone would notice him. He would welcome a fight right 
now.
As the velvety darkness of night fell over the land he waited. As soon as the 
sun was completely cast aside by the rising moon, he planned to take a better 
look inside that house.
Perhaps he would even stake his claim tonight.
***
Kristian leaned over the stove to taste a bit of the homemade syrup. She blew on 
the hot brew not wishing to singe her taste buds. Suddenly, the hairs at the 
nape of her neck stood on end. Whirling around, spoon in hand sloshing syrup 
across the floor, she caught Broody insolently leaning against the wall, leering 
at her derriere. After several uncomfortable seconds passed, his gaze traversed 
up her body, lingering at her breasts before reaching her eyes.
When his brown eyes clashed with hers, she took an involuntary step back. The 
heavy fog of rising desire shadowed his expression, sending shivers of 
forewarning down her spine. Kristian seemed to be a constant source of lust for 
Broody. Her skin crawled simply from his gawking at her, but seeing that haze 
descend over his eyes made her want to vomit. She would have thought he'd 
already found his ease with Rose.
Kristian fought not to wrinkle her nose at his stench filling her kitchen. He 
believed bathing to be a waste of time and only on rare occasions suffered 
through it. The thick patch of brown hair on his head stuck to his skull. His 
face and fingers were stained with ground in dirt; imbedded so deep she couldn't 
tell the new from the old.
His languid smile exposed black teeth. Gaping holes replaced almost every other 
tooth, lost from rot.
Kristian's face skewered up into one of disgust despite her valiant attempts not 
to. She blanched as the muscles on his jaw tightened and his fists clenched. His 
lips tightened into a narrow line on his pockmarked face as his eyes narrowed in 
malice. With predatory steps, he stocked her, advancing without appearing to 
move.
"Whatta hellis going on aroun here, Kristian? I leave for only a lil' bit and 
when I return ya've run off half the hands. I don't know what ya're thinkin but 
it's gonna take a lot to keep me from telling Buck when he comes back. Of 
course--"
"Buck is dead!" Kristian declared.
Momentarily stunned, Broody stopped his pursuit. "It was true then," he 
whispered. "I would've never believed it." He was silent for a moment as he 
stared at the floor, then his head snapped up. "Did ya see his body?"
Slowly she shook her head. "No." Her brow furrowed with renewed doubts. "He was 
already sealed in by the time I got there. Two men brought his body in and the 
sheriff supported the claim."
"Ya shoulda told me you were going,Kristian !" He gritted out through his 
remaining teeth, causing a hiss to escape between the gapes in his mouth. "I 
hadda hear about it from the hands!"
Fury filled her. She wasn't about to apologize for not finding him.
"You should be easier to find, Broody Rosell! Not always out consorting with 
Rose! I will not keep her in my home any longer! Nor you!" she yelled, jabbing 
the gun at his chest.
"Yer home? Now, now Kristian!Ya aint thinkin I'm gonna just walk out o'here?" He 
mocked her, waving his hands in the air.
"Yes! You are going to turn around, grab your bag of belongings there by the 
door, andleave ." She was surprised at her own tenacity. Her knees were knocking 
together so hard it was a miracle she could still stand. The firepower in her 
hands gave her the strength to continue.
"I'm warning you Broody, don'tever return here. I won't take it kindly." With 
just a slight wave of her shotgun, she indicated the front door.
With uncharacteristic agility, Broody used her momentary lapse of concentration 
to lunge forward. Gripping the barrel with one hand and wresting her hand away 
from the trigger, Broody fought for the gun. Kristian knew she was no physical 
match for him, if she lost the only weapon she had she'd be at his mercy.
Throwing her weight into it, she twisted the barrel of the gun with all her 
strength. Suddenly, an ear-splitting noise filled the air as the gun discharged. 
Kristian looked up in shock. A large hole had been blown through the wall 
connecting the kitchen and great room.
Broody wrenched the gun from her hands and pressed the barrel to her throat. 
With his free hand, he gripped her arm, painfully squeezing.
The front door burst open and a frazzled Rose came running in. Her flaming red 
hair stood out around her head and trailed down her back. Her wan blue eyes wide 
with worry.
"What the world is happen' Broody, honey?" She hollered her voice high and 
tight. Usually she attempted an obviously false southern belle accent, but now, 
in a state of panic, she forgot to apply it.
"Get out, Rose!" Broody demanded, his violent dark eyes never leaving 
Kristian's.
"Oh, well, you don't have to be like that," she replied indignantly and turned 
to go, pausing just on the threshold. She cast a smug smile at Kristian then 
simpered to Broody, "Do you want me to be waitn' for youout back? "
"No!" Broody yelled, "Outta here all together. If I'm not mistaken, one of them 
bags atta door contains yer pitiful belongin's. Take leave from here and don't 
return."
Rose's eyes widened further and her splotchy skin deepened in color. Stammering, 
she spit out, "But...But...Broody, darlin' surely you're not a meanin' to throw 
me out in the cold! You said you'd --"
"I don't give adamn where ya go, just getta hell out and don't ever come back! 
You ain't wanted here no more. I've had my fill of you,darlin' ." His gaze 
finally broke from Kristian's as he tossed a glance over his shoulder, eyes 
narrowed with warning. "Anyway, ya're a whore; ya'll find work. Now git!" Taking 
it for granted that she would leave, he turned his attention back to Kristian, 
the barrel still pressed firmly to her throat.
Rose persisted, her voice raised with panic, "But...Broody...How am I supposed 
to get there?"
Broody replaced the gun on Kristian's throat with his hand, and swung the 
confiscated gun to aim it at Rose. He gritted out between his putrid teeth, "I 
don't give a damn. I haven't shotcha yet, but if you don't scoot, I'm gonna!" 
Frantically, she scanned the room, desperate for anything to use against Broody. 
She deliberated screaming but decided that it would only escalate Broody's 
fevered anger.
After Rose collected her small bag and left, he returned his stormy-eyed gaze to 
her. Kristian shivered. The cold hate brewing in his soul obvious in his 
expression.
Recklessly, she lifted her chin and announced in her most authoritative tone, 
"This ranch is mine and I want you off it as well. I have had enough of you, 
too, Broody Rosell! I won't have scum like you contaminating my daughter's home! 
I have already packed your bags. Buck's things are by the door, too. You can 
have them if you want them, if not I'll just burn them. I'm starting over and 
you're not welcome here anymore!"
Amazingly, he smiled. "Butdarlin', I wantta be here. And a lil' thing like you 
ain't enough to drive me away. Besides, we've had some good times. Ya wouldn't 
go forgetten those, now woulda?" He reached out to smooth the stray chestnut 
locks back from her face with as charming a smile as he could muster.
She cringed away from his touch. Anger thinned his lips. Plunging his hand into 
her hair, he ripped the pins from her hair. She bit her lower lip until she 
tasted blood, managing to restrain her cries of pain. It would get worse. It 
always did.
"Broody, I just want to start over. Surely you can understand that. I'm sure 
you'd like a new start, too. Let's just each go our own ways."
She knew she wouldn't be able to cope with having his hands all over her again. 
Her tenuous string of sanity might dissolve. Over the last six years of abuse, 
thoughts of her precious daughter had held her together mentally. Physically, 
her own blasted stubbornness held her up.
"No," Broody drawled, "I've everythin I want right here at our lil' ol' ranch. 
Now that Buck is dead, I own ya." As he spoke he backed her up against the 
counter, pinning her with his body.
She pressed herself against the counter hoping for more room, but only succeeded 
in cutting the edge into her hips. His fully extended erection pressed into her 
soft stomach. She pushed at his chest, refusing to look up in fear he'd kiss 
her. His foul breath fluttered across her face, gagging her. He grabbed her 
wrists and held them down to her sides, trapping her.
Panic began swirling in the midst of her mind. It was happening again! No! She 
couldn't, wouldn't, tolerate this one more time in her life.
"No!" she screamed. "I will never belong to any man again; much less some 
disgusting vermin like you! You make me sick!" The moment the words left her 
mouth, she regretted them. She hadn't meant to say it, but knowing his intent, 
the words just came out on their own.
"Ya're gonna pay for that! That little brat of yers will too!" Broody grinned 
when she paled. Releasing her wrists, he ran his hands up her arms.
Terror seized her throat, constricting it. "I'll kill you before you ever hurt 
her!"
His decaying smile flashed again, sending slivers of dread spiraling through her 
body.
"Notif ya'redead!" he leaned into her, rubbing his hard flesh against her. "Oh 
don'tcha worry none. I'll treat her real good. May even wait a year or two 
before I start teachin her the finer points of bein a woman."
"You son of a bitch!" Kristian yelled, launching at him with nails and teeth 
bared.
He caught her easily, once again pinning her hands to her side.
"Kristian, I'm surprised. I never knew ya were jealous of me!" He feigned 
dismay. "That brat is young enough to be trained to my needs."
"No!" She screamed trying futilely to break free. She had to save Reggie and 
escape!
Bringing his face close to hers, he sneered, "Oh yea!"
Before she could see it coming, Broody backhanded her, knocking her to the 
floor. Kristian tried to curl up in a ball, but Broody plunged his fist into her 
hair and pulled. She willed her hair to be pulled out, but he held too much. He 
struck her again, sending her across the room.
She landed with a thud on the floor of the entryway. Automatically, she 
attempted to stand, rising to her hands and knees. She saw Reggie crouched 
behind one of the crude chairs in front of the fireplace.
Mouthing the words, lest she draw attention to her daughter, Kristian fiercely 
instructed, "Hide!"
Reggie and she had played this very scene out so many times, Kristian had lost 
count. Reggie knew she would come for her when it was safe again. This time was 
different though. Reggie stayed rooted to the spot, staring back at her mother, 
shaking her head.
"Go!" she mouthed to her daughter. She could hear Broody yelling curses and 
stomping towards her. The moment was upon them, Reggie had to flee. She had to!
Finally, with tears spilling down her cheeks, Reggie scampered to the door. 
Kristian breathed a sigh of relief just as Broody pulled her back up. She could 
taste blood and her mind reeled, more so it seemed than before she'd seen 
Reggie.
A pleasant fog began to descend over her. She welcomed it with open arms, 
seeking refuge within its anonymous oblivion. Her daughter was safely hidden 
away, and, hopefully, Broody would have his fill of her and then she could 
escape. She knew that, while her body would be present for the rape, her mind 
would escape reality. The darkness had helped her through these times more than 
once; they were old friends.
With one swipe of his arm, he knocked all the items laid out on the kitchen 
table to the floor. She barely heard the shattering of dishes over the thrumming 
in her ears. His hand in her hair, he dragged her behind him. Picking her up 
with one arm, he flung her battered body onto the table.
She needed to fight him, to defend herself, but she couldn't ward off the fog 
descending upon her. Wasn't even sure she wanted to fight the darkness, her 
refuge lay within its safety. Inside her gut twisted with utter repugnance at 
this man's hands on her. But her mind befuddled from the abuse, whirled with 
confusion. She received these blows so often in the past few years that one 
would think she'd become accustomed to them.
Broody tore her thin blue calico dress from the neck hem down, tearing the 
chemise with it, exposing her for his view. Tearing her drawers, he tossed the 
ruined garment aside.
His face turned red and his eyes bulged with excitement. He fumbled with his 
trousers, his other hand groping her bare breast.
She pinched her eyes together, fighting the rising bile in her throat. The 
stench of his pungent breath filled her nostrils. Her head ached, her body 
throbbed with pain, and panic filled her soul.
Suddenly, Broody's hands stilled and his dead weight collapsed onto her prone 
body. Fighting to focus her eyes, she blinked repeatedly. When the fuzziness 
seemed to thin out a little, she looked up over Broody's body and couldn't 
believe what she saw. She squeezed her eyes shut tight again, but when she 
reopened them she saw the same thing.
There in her kitchen stood the tall, dark stranger from town. The shadow cast 
from the brim of his hat covered most of his face, as it had earlier, but she 
knew it was he. Not only from his clothing, but also that beautiful cleft chin 
he possessed.
All at the same moment, she felt profoundly embarrassed for anyone to see her in 
such a state and eternally grateful that he had come along when he did. A 
derisive smile briefly twitched at her lips as she lay back, pulled what she 
could of her shirtfront together and slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
***
He knelt down, avoiding the broken dishes strewn across the floor, and picked up 
the lavender. He raised it to his nose, breathing deeply of its fragrance, his 
eyes drifting shut as memories assailed him. He'd regained first hand knowledge 
that she still liked the scent. He'd known she would.
She was still unconscious and lying on the bed where he'd left her to sleep. Her 
body, while battered and broken, would heal. Nothing fatal had occurred to her. 
Although he couldn't say the same thing for her assailant.
The door leading outside from the kitchen creaked open a crack breaking through 
his thoughts. He couldn't see who it was, but acting out of sheer habit, he rose 
to his feet and slipped behind it. Silently drawing out his colt, he waited 
patiently. Life had taught him that the first to move was the first to die. He'd 
lived this long by out waiting a number of his foe.
Soon, the door swung completely open but no one followed it in. With deadly 
efficiency, he pulled the hammer of the Colt back with his thumb.
"Mama?" the words were a whispered croak, terror filling its depths.
He groaned. He'd forgotten about the kid. The child she'd had with herhusband .
Holstering his Colt, he stepped around the barrier. The little girl's eyes 
widened and she bolted toward the end of the porch. Reaching her before she 
could take off into the dark woods, he gripped her little arm. His grasp was 
purposefully gentle and loose but she caught him by surprise when she turned on 
him, pummeling him with tightly clenched fists.
Before she could hit something vital, he knelt down in front of her. He stilled 
her hands with one of his. With the other hand, he swept her cheeks of their 
tears.
"Its all right, child. I won't hurt you."
He heard her gulp in fear before her frightened voice broke the silence. "Will 
you hurt my Mama?"
His gut twisted. He'd never hurt a female, but Kristian pushed that limit.
"No," his gruff words sent her backing up again. He swore beneath his breath. 
"Look kid, your Ma is all right. She is upstairs asleep."
Biting her lower lip, Reggie shuffled her feet back and forth. Finally she 
nodded, her black hair bouncing around her face.
"I'm Reggie."
"Reggie?"
She nodded again. "Did you help her?"
He knew she spoke of her mother. "I helped her."
A small smile touched her lips. "Thank you."
He didn't say another word, but stood up, frowning.
"Come on. I'll fix you something to eat." He started to turn away but Reggie 
grabbed his hand. He froze. Damnation, he didn't want to like the kid. They were 
close enough to the door that he could see her face tilted up to his. The trust 
in her eyes proved to be his undoing. A grimace tilted the corner of his mouth. 
It was the closest thing to a real smile anyone had seen out of him in six 
years.
They ate in silence. The food slightly burnt but edible. The kid, Reggie, didn't 
even complain, which won her even more points in his book.
"How did you get the scars on your face?"
His eyes snapped to her face. Her question shocked him. No one had ever dared 
ask him that. He grappled with his hat, irritated with himself for forgetting to 
keep it lowered.
"I had an accident," he snapped. Then added in a softer voice, "Kind of."
"I bet it hurt."
He noted her rounded emerald eyes, so much like her mother's, were filled with 
compassion and his resentment faded.
"Yea," he nodded. "It did."
The two stared at each other for a moment longer.
"I have a scar on my knee. Want to see it?"
He almost laughed. The innocence on her face told him he didn't repulse her. Her 
reply told him she shared his affliction. It was the funniest thing he'd heard 
in a long time. Then he sobered. Her mother wouldn't think it was so funny.
"Actually, don't you think you ought to be heading to bed?" he stood gathering 
their dirtied dishes, attempting to isolate himself.
"Will you stay?" she asked, fear in her voice again.
He glanced down at the girl. Her face reminded him so much of her mother. The 
emerald green eyes were only the beginning. The soft timbers of her voice a 
perfect imitation of Kristian's.
"Yea, I'll be staying."
CHAPTER 3
Stretching her arms high above her head, Kristian opened her eyes, blinking at 
the blurry images before her. Using the back of her hand, she wiped impatiently 
at her eyelids. Squinting to focus, she peered at the crackling fire dancing in 
the hearth.
She sat up on her elbow looking around the dark room in confusion. She was lying 
in her own bed but couldn't remember getting here. Everything seemed in order. 
The lantern turned low for the night. The door closed to retain the warmth of 
the fire.
Something was eating at the edges of her subconscious, but she couldn't quite 
grasp it. The harder she tried to recall it, the more elusive the memory was. 
She knew she shouldn't be here in bed. She could see night had fallen outside 
her window, but she couldn't remember preparing for bed. Or eating dinner for 
that matter.
Kristian laid her head back down on the soft pillow, tugging the faded patchwork 
quilt up to her chin. She held her breath trying to search for answers in the 
intangible fog condensing around her brain. Questions seemed to fly out at her, 
attacking the memories lurking at the back of awareness.
All at once, the day's events swamped her. Buck was dead. Broody had beat her 
and almost succeeded in raping her. The very man she'd almost run over in town 
earlier that day had rescued her.
Kristian covered her face with her arms in mortification. He had found her laid 
out like a strumpet. Spread for a man's taking. There was no telling what he 
would expect from her now. Hot tears coursed down her cheeks.
Then another thought broke through her horror; she could feel the soft cotton of 
her nightdress insulating her body, keeping it warm between the cool sheets. 
Lifting the quilt, she hoped with all her heart that she was wrong. Grimacing, 
she saw that not only had she been changed; her body had been cleaned of all 
traces of blood. Pulling the covers back up, she squeezed her eyes shut. How 
would she be able to face that man?
The throbbing in her head intensified, demanding attention. Her jaw ached with 
every beat of her heart. Her body felt raw, used. The relief of being saved from 
Broody's attentions eased her mind but her body silently howled in discomfort.
Suddenly alarm coursed through her sore body.Reggie ! She had forgotten about 
Reggie still out there hiding. She had to find her!
Throwing back the covers, she jumped out of bed ignoring the protests from her 
battered body. The room swayed, appearing to alter origins. Kristian couldn't 
discern up or down, left or right. The spinning in her head turned the world on 
end. Without being aware of moving, Kristian felt the cocoon of the feather 
mattress and rumpled covers absorbing her weight, buffering her fall.
Allowing herself but a moment of stillness, she sat up, swallowing the bile 
surging her throat. The room began to spin again. Kristian gripped the edge of 
the bed, closing her emerald eyes shut. As the swirling abated, she opened her 
eyes and attempted to stand, again. Stumbling towards the wall, she pressed her 
head and shoulders against the solid structure, grasping for her bearings.
Moments passed as bright stars flashed in front of her eyes, permeating the 
confusing darkness. When the dark curtain lifted she took measured steps to 
collect her wrapper from the end of the bed. Wrenching the door open, a wave of 
dizziness threatened and she clung to the doorframe.
"Reggie!"She yelled, staggering down the hall. Her daughter's room was next to 
hers, a mere twenty feet, but the distance felt doubled to Kristian. Opening the 
door, she released a sigh of relief.
Reggie lay sleeping peacefully, her dark hair fanned across the white 
pillowcase. Her covers not wrinkled except for the small lump her body formed. 
Hot embers simmered in her fireplace, lit by the stranger, Kristian assumed.
The room was small, like the rest of the bedrooms, and sparsely furnished, like 
the whole house. A worn mattress laid across a simple wooden frame was the 
extent of Reggie's possessions. Two pegs on the wall by the door held the little 
girl's two dresses and hole-ridden stockings. Her scuffed, too-small, button-up 
boots laid haphazardly underneath the hanging clothes.
Slumping against the doorframe, she inhaled a deep breath, releasing the tension 
in her shoulders. As long as Reggie was all right the rest she could deal with. 
If something were to happen to Reggie...She just couldn't bear to even think 
about it.
As the worry of her daughter's safety dispersed, her thoughts returned to the 
stranger. At the knowledge that he had undressed and cleaned her, a small tremor 
ran through her body. She wasn't sure if her reaction was delight or aversion.
For years she had loathed being touched by anyone other than her daughter. 
Avoiding all forms of touch, by any methods necessary. When she paid for any 
supplies or the men their wages, she took pains to not touch hands or brush 
fingertips. Buck's heavy hand had taught her well.
The stranger intrigued her natural curiosity, showing up as he did, but she 
remained wary. Her experience with men wasn't very good. He had rescued her and 
now he would undoubtedly ask something in return. She just hoped she'd be 
willing to give it.
Kristian knew without a doubt that she couldn't give her body to any man. She 
would never be intimate with a man again; even the thought of the primitive deed 
sent bile bubbling up her throat. It seemed to be an act that was made 
specifically for men.
Even with Robbie she hadn't liked it.Sweet, sweet Robbie .
Shaking her head to clear it of unwanted memories, she pushed away from the 
frame and quietly pulled the door shut. Padding silently down the hall, she 
talked herself into facing the tall dark man she knew was downstairs. With an 
unexplainable awareness, she could sense his presence. Her stomach seemed to 
drop to her toes as pictures of him flittered across her mind's eye. The man's 
very demeanor commanded attention. He was, in itself, a warning of danger.
Reaching the top of the stairway, Kristian suddenly stopped. Uncertainty coiled 
tightly within her.
How was she supposed to handle this situation? The man had saved her from a 
brutal rape and possible death. She couldn't exactly ask him to leave after 
that, could she?
Kristian tremulously smiled; her mother would surely roll over in her grave at 
this. Her mother had raised her to be the proper lady, hostess for tea parties 
and grand balls. The fact that the War and Buck had changed her future 
irrevocably didn't erase the habits instilled in her.
Granted, she had learned that the rough Colorado territory was not a place for a 
placid woman, but she was still the practical and gracious host when the 
situation dictated. Which hadn't been often in the last six years of hell she 
had lived through. She had usually hid from Buck's acquaintances as much as 
possible, lest they corner her alone.
But she couldn't very well ask her liberator to sleep out in the barn after 
saving her from Broody. Could she? Of course not, she scolded herself. But what 
if he wanted more from her than she could give? And what of Broody? Washe still 
here? Well, she told herself, you'll never know if you don't go down there.
Taking a deep calming breath, cinching the belt on her wrapper tighter, she took 
one step and quickly retracted it. Pausing only to look down the stairs to make 
sure no one had heard her, she fled down the hall. Acting like a coward rubbed 
against her natural tendency of facing problems head on. But, she reasoned, one 
attempted rape was enough for tonight.
Stopping at her daughter's room, she gathered the soft little bundle into her 
arms and hurried to her own room. Laying Reggie down on the bed, Kristian pulled 
the quilt up, tucking it under the girl's chin. Reggie turned onto her side and 
snuggled against the pillow, never waking. A crooked smile flittered across 
Kristian's lips. Gazing down at her daughter, she smoothed back an errant lock 
of hair on the girl's cheek and replaced it with a light kiss.
Turning back to the door, Kristian started to close it. Just before the door 
would have snapped into place, it bounced back at her.
Startled, Kristian jumped away with a gasp. Splaying a hand across her chest to 
still her thumping heart, she waited to see who would appear. The door opened so 
slowly, she thought she'd perish in anticipation. When at last the door revealed 
the intruder, Kristian didn't know if she should be relieved or not. There, 
standing in the deep shadows of the hall, was her stranger. He pulled his hat 
off, but the shadows of night still hid his identity.
"I see you're awake," he stated the obvious.
Fascinated with his gruff but soothing voice Kristian could only nod. Realizing 
that he might not be able to see her nod in the dark she squeaked, "Yes." Her 
throat was so tight she was amazed anything came out at all. She was appalled at 
herself for acting so stricken, but was unable to snap out of it. His size and 
stature made for an intimidating force.
"Good. I'll be downstairs," pausing, obviously reluctant to offer further 
assistance came through in every strained word. "If you or, or the little one 
need anything." Then he turned around and shut the door in one fluid motion.
Kristian gaped at the door for a few minutes, expecting him to reappear, 
disappointed that he didn't. With sudden cognizance, she pressed one hand 
against the door and turned the key in the lock with the other. It made her feel 
safer to lock out the world.
Leaning her forehead against the door, she breathed deeply. His crisp outdoor 
scent still lingered, filling her lungs with his essence. Soap and pine, she 
noted. The odor was exhilarating.
There was something very familiar in his voice, but she couldn't quite put her 
finger on it. His voice was oddly soothing to her. Whatever the man wanted, at 
least he had saved her from Broody. If he hadn't came along who knows what would 
have become of her and Reggie. For that, she owed this man.
She wondered what had happened to Cowboy. Perhaps all his talk of being there 
for her had been just that:talk . She mentally shrugged; men were given to long- 
winded declarations. Rarely did they follow through.
Kristian crawled into bed. Drawing the little girl's warm body close, Kristian 
kissed the top of her head. With a sigh she closed her eyes, it wasn't the first 
time a man hadn't done what he said he would. She was sure it wouldn't be the 
last.
CHAPTER 4
Dawn's spindly fingers of burnished gold and magenta stretched across the peaks 
and valleys of the Colorado Rockies. The early morning rays broke through the 
velvety darkness cast over the land. The cool, crisp warmth of late fall left in 
its wake.
Kristian lay abed, snuggled deep under the quilt. Her face cushioned on her 
hands, she watched the light of day creep across the rough-hewn wood floor of 
her bedroom. The shafts of gold forced the deep shadows to ease into the 
corners, and then, at last, to disappear altogether.
Every morning the sun arose, regardless of the clouds that threatened to hide 
it. It felt symbolic to her now, the darkness edging into nothingness.
Normally she would have been up long before now, but aware of the stranger 
downstairs, she prolonged her reprieve. Finally with a soft sigh of resignation, 
she sat up, swinging her short legs over the edge of the bed. She would have to 
face him sooner or later.She would prefer it be later .
Grimacing at the pain the movement caused, she sat very still, gripping the edge 
of the bed. The unnerving dizziness she'd experienced the night before did not 
reappear but throbbing pain threatened to split her head in two.
Bitterly, she laughed. Only the day before she had proclaimed the new life she 
would have. Foolish. She had misjudged Broody, almost fatally. Despite the 
knowledge of her unrealistic optimism, she couldn't help but feel a rush of hope 
for today. After all, Buck was dead.
But mixed in with the shallow dreams of the day to come, fear lurked. What if 
Broody was still around?
Lightly shaking her head, she brushed away the heavy thoughts. With small, 
aching steps Kristian walked to the wobbly washstand next to the window. Using 
the chipped porcelain pitcher sitting inside the matching basin, she filled the 
bowl half way with icy water. She braced herself before splashing her face with 
the frigid liquid but still had to bite back a cry of surprise.
Pulling the thin white nightgown over her head she ran her gaze over her nude 
body. Five, perfectly round, bruises marred each breast. A silent testament to 
the force Broody had greedily squeezed her with. Large, irregular, black marks 
lined her ribs and arms. The discolored spots stood out against her creamy, 
white skin; the stark contrast causing the marks to look even worse.
There wasn't a mirror in the room, but Kristian could see her cheek protruding 
just by looking down. Her left eye opened only half way and her lips hurt to 
move.
She looked like hell.Had been through hell .
If she had still been back east living in the safety of her parent's home, she'd 
have hidden behind the four walls of her room, waiting out the healing process. 
But this wasn't the east and her parents weren't living any longer, and her life 
couldn't be held at bay until she healed.
And pride wouldn't allow her to hide.
She had lived through it! Buck could no longer hurt her. But Broody...Broody was 
a different matter. She would deal with him when she had to. If he were still 
alive, which she hadn't bothered to ascertain from the stranger, he would still 
give her problems. Next time she would be prepared.Whatever it took, she'd take 
care of Broody .
If she stayed hidden, she felt they would win. They hadn't won. She was still 
standing. They hadn't been able to beat her down. She didn't have to fight them 
for survival anymore.
With regret, she realized the clothes she'd worn yesterday were ruined. She had 
only one other dress, a brown gingham in even worse condition than her blue 
calico had been in. Her ruined drawers were nowhere in sight. She could only 
assume the stranger had discarded them. Of course he hadn't known they were the 
only pair she owned and would have needed mending. Neither did she have another 
chemise, that too had been destroyed in yesterday's fiasco.
Rubbing her chilled arms, she mentally shrugged. She couldn't let a little thing 
likedecency stop her. She did have a shift to wear and her brown gingham, for 
those she could be thankful. Biting her lower lip, she forged ahead. Slipping 
the clothing over her head, she forced herself to forget that she wore nothing 
underneath.
Wandering to the window, she brushed aside the yellowed lace curtain and gazed 
out across the rolling hills and towering peaks. The swaying tips of the Pine 
trees gave away the bitter wind cutting through the mountains, betraying the 
warm appearance out the window.
Allowing the curtain to fall into place, she reluctantly finished getting 
dressed. Procrastinating wouldn't make the man or her responsibilities go away. 
After putting on her hole-ridden stockings, she pulled on her faded, black, 
button-up boots, biting back the moan when they pinched her toes. Maybe next 
spring she could afford to buy new ones for her and Reggie.
As dressed as possible, Kristian stared at the door, apprehension knotting her 
insides. Not for the first time she remembered that the stranger had cleaned and 
changed he. Heat rushed to her face, thinking of him touching her body, his 
fingers brushing across bare skin, his eyes touching on private places.
He had even found Reggie, a task of monument proportions all in itself. Several 
different times, it had taken Kristian hours to locate her daughter's hiding 
spot. Regret, again, touched her heart, dispersing thoughts of the stranger. Her 
mistakes had not only affected her but they had propelled themselves to affect 
Reggie.
Today was the start of her new life; she would be independent. She had to brush 
the past from her mind and begin anew. There was little she could change now. 
The key was to move on. She had to make the best for the two of them.
Apprehensive at meeting her stranger in the light of day, Kristian paused at the 
top of the stairs, gathering her courage. She couldn't be weak or else men would 
run rampage over her ranch. If she was to make a living for her and Reggie, then 
she would have to maintain control at all times. This man had saved her but she 
couldn't come off obligated to him or he might take advantage of the situation. 
Of course, he could have taken advantage of her last night, if he had chosen to.
With one last fortifying deep breath, she stomped down the stairs. With every 
step, she reiterated a silent vow.
I will not be afraid.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Kristian propped her hands on her hips and 
scanned the scantily clad front room. Furnished with two crude chairs, a scarred 
table that wobbled on its uneven legs and a single kerosene lantern.
Long-gone hired men that had passed through the ranch at one time or the other 
had made the inadequate items. Kristian had worked hard to convince Buck of 
having them made. Buck begrudged money not spent on his own foolish desires, but 
for once he had conceded the need for somewhere to sit. She'd been grateful for 
the faulty fixtures, regardless of their shoddy condition.
It took only a moment to look in both rooms, before she realized he wasn't 
there. Disappointment swelled in the pit of her stomach, startling her. By sheer 
force of will, she pushed aside the unwanted emotion. She didn't need a man, any 
man, regardless of his great physic or damn mysterious presence.
Walking into the kitchen to begin cooking breakfast, Kristian's steps suddenly 
came to an abrupt halt. The mess that Broody had made yesterday was cleaned! The 
whole kitchen was in order. So used to picking up after everyone, the 
thoughtfulness of the act brought tears to her eyes.
Such a simple thing, washing the dishes and sweeping the floor, yet, it touched 
her deeply. He hadn't been asked for help, hadn't even asked if she wanted help, 
he'd just done it. A man willingly cleaning anything was unheard of. The fact 
that he had, put a large chip in the formidable wall of indifference she had 
built up around her heart and soul. Only two were enclosed within the invisible 
walls,Reggie and Robbie .One was dead .
Setting the coffee to boil, she then started a batch of biscuits to have with 
the frying bacon. She didn't know what it was that alerted her, but suddenly she 
knew she wasn't alone. A sense of repetition drained the blood from her face.The 
very same scene from the night before . Whirling around she realized she didn't 
even know where the shotgun was.
Relief flooded her when she saw the stranger filling the entryway of the 
kitchen. The sun spilled in from the open door behind him, casting a silhouette 
of his form for her eyes. Stunned by the unexpected vision, she openly stared. 
Her eyes ran the length of him. He was magnificent!
His hat pulled low on his face formed a deep shadow, covering him to his jaw. 
The cleft chin stuck out in an obstinate angle, divulging his opinionated 
personality.
He still wore the clothes she had seen on him yesterday. The tight trousers he 
wore drawing attention to the toned muscles in his legs. The faded black gun 
belt, forewarning all of his abilities, seemed to only frame his tight lower 
body to her eye.
Realizing her bold perusal, she attempted to salvage the remains of her dignity. 
Drawing herself up to her full height, she asked, "Would you like something to 
eat? I'm whipping up a batch of biscuits and there is bacon and plenty of 
coffee." Her voice quivered but otherwise she portrayed the very image of 
courage.
She felt extremely uncomfortable, knowing that he had been a witness to last 
night's assault. And later had seen her completely naked. But she refused to 
show her wariness to anyone. She knew how such a thing could be used against a 
person. Long ago, she had shoved those emotions deep within herself. In all 
reality, last night hadn't been anything new to her, calluses had been formed 
over that part of her soul. It didn't matter that this man seemed to penetrate 
those calluses without even trying.
He watched with narrowed eyes as the tip of her pink tongue dashed out and 
wetted her lips, disappearing again inside her mouth. She was obviously trying 
to control her fear. She did recover remarkably well, he would give her that, 
but he had seen it there. Of course, considering how he had found her yesterday, 
he couldn't blame her for feeling wary.
He'd also read the look in her eyes as they ran the length of him.She hadn't 
forgotten, whether she realized it or not .
He knew life in the west was hard on women. He'd seen all kinds of different 
horrors since leaving the east. From Indian massacres to men selling their own 
children to saloons for booze. It took special women to make it through all the 
trials. He knew that she was one of those women. He would never forget just how 
special she was, nor would he forgive that trait.
"Yes ma'am. If it isn't too much trouble." He was aware of the shadow hiding his 
face but just for good measure he pulled his hat a little lower to ensure its 
imperceptibility.
"Please have a seat, it'll take just a minute." Turning back to the counter she 
resumed her baking but not for one second was she unaware of his whereabouts. 
She felt like she was in a trance going through the motions but nothing was 
actually registering in her mind. She knew that voice; it reminded her of smooth 
whiskey on a cold winter night, warming her clear to her soul.
She politely inquired, "From where-abouts are you?" He was silent for so long 
she finally looked back over her shoulder.
He simply shrugged and answered neutrally, "Here and there."
"Yes but, surely, you originated from one specific place." She knew it was rude 
to be so persistent, but curiosity consumed her.
"Like I said, here and there. Don't suppose where I came from matters out here." 
He paused for only a moment before countering, "Where'd you come from?"
"Back East," she replied vaguely. After placing the biscuits in the oven, she 
poured him a cup from the boiling kettle. Carrying the mug to him, her hand 
shook and struggled to keep from spilling the hot brew. His presence unsettled 
her, not in fear necessarily, but unsettling all the same. She hoped he didn't 
notice.
He did, but tapping his hat he only said, "Much obliged, ma'am."
Leaning back against the counter she crossed her arms over her bosom and 
observed him silently for a little while. "I don't suppose someone like you 
would come from anywhere. Are you planning on staying around here for a while?" 
She was very pleased at how she was behaving; she felt in control of herself and 
the situation.
He simply nodded his head.
"This ranch belongs to me now that my husband is dead."
"Sorry for your loss."
His voice was even more solemn and thick than usual, if that was possible.
"Don't be. It was a blessing. I won't pretend otherwise." She took a long sip 
from her coffee. She inhaled deeply, opened her mouth to add to that statement 
but little feet plodding down the stairs changed her mind. Setting aside her 
cup, she braced herself for Reggie's infamous morning tackle. Reggie came 
tumbling down the stairs dressed in her gray flannel nightgown. Rubbing her eyes 
she headed straight to Kristian, energetically throwing her arms about her 
mother's small waist.
In her sugary mother voice she greeted, "Good morning, dumplin'. Did you sleep 
well?"
Looking up at her mother, Reggie nodded and asked, "Mama, why did I wake up in 
your bed?"
A little uncomfortable explaining her fears of the stranger in front of him, she 
shifted and cleared her throat a little. "Well, honey, I just thought you might 
be cold."
"Oh no! Dean tucked me in real tight." Turning around to face the stranger, 
"Didn't you Dean?" Then in a scandalized whisper to her mother, Reggie 
announced, "He even told me a story!"
A fragile smile turned up Kristian's lips, as a note of sorrow played in her 
heart. Stroking Reggie's long black hair away from her face, Kristian suggested, 
"Why don't you go get dressed and bring the comb down so that I can do up your 
hair and then you can eat." At Reggie's agreeing nod, Kristian continued, "Today 
we get to start all over. Now you run along."
Reggie wasn't quite sure what her mother had meant but she was hungry, and the 
sooner she was dressed the sooner she could eat.
Kristian watched her daughter go and as soon as she was out of earshot turned 
her keen attention back to the stranger.
"Did she call you Dean?"
"Yes'm"
"Is that your name? Just Dean?"
"Yes," he replied curtly.
She pulled the biscuits out of the little oven above the fireplace. She placed 
the perfectly golden baked goods in a rough, chipped bowl. Gathering the bacon 
off the hot griddle and spreading them onto an equally chipped plate, she placed 
both onto the table.
"Please help yourself," she offered. "May I call you Dean? Or would you prefer 
some other name?" Kristian tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice but failed.
For some reason she didn't like not knowing his name. She doubted his name was 
really Dean. She had found out, through Buck's unseemly acquaintances, that if a 
man didn't want you to know who he was you shouldn't ask. It just seemed very 
unsettling to know that she knew nothing of him. Except, she reminded herself, 
that he had saved her.
"I've been called worse things," he said in between bites. "Dean would be just 
fine."
Nodding her acknowledgment, she added before Reggie could join them again, 
"Listen, Dean, uh, Reggie... Well, she hasn't had a very good example for a 
father in her life...she is so impressionable. That is why she was in awe of you 
telling her a story and spending time with her." Kristian looked down at her 
hands not sure of how to go about the next part.
"I, well, I...I'm very obliged to you after last night. I don't know what I 
would've done if you hadn't come along. We're in your debt." With a shaky smile 
she added, "I don't know what would've happened if...Well, I have a chance at a 
new beginning now and..." She took a big deep breath, trying to end her 
rambling, "I am just very thankful to you."
He stared at her bent head for a long moment before gruffly replying, "Don't 
think nothing of it."
"Is -- is Broodygone?" she dared, looking up through her dense eyelashes. She 
couldn't bring herself to ask if he had killed him. He remained quiet, sipping 
from the mug of now-tepid coffee. She watched the sleek muscles in his throat 
work as he swallowed, sweet sensations rippling through her. Irritating her.
After he had thoroughly drained the mug, he answered, "He won't hurt you 
anymore."
The unspoken meaning lurked behind his words. She was stunned. Broody was gone. 
Buck was gone. It all seemed too good to be true. Relief swept through her, 
easing the stiff muscles in her back she'd been unaware of clenching. The 
forceful attraction to the man, Dean, sitting at her table becoming that much 
stronger.
"Mama!" Reggie declared loudly, as she reentered the kitchen. "I'm starving!"
Forcing a bright smile onto her face, Kristian faced her daughter. "Then come 
here and let me braid your hair so you can eat."
Dean watched as Kristian's nimble fingers braided Reggie's hair. It seemed to 
have a will all its own; his hair was like that, too. Seemed to drive him 
half-crazy when he'd been young and wanting to impress the ladies.
Lots of the young ladies had tried to spin their charm on him. But only one had 
attracted his attention. She had been completely different than the other girls, 
who were concerned with only parties, teas, and the latest fashions. The one he 
had been pulled to didn't care for the latest fashions but simply comfortable 
clothes, wrinkled her nose at the thought of balls, and longed to spend her days 
on the back of a horse. She had put her mark on him for all eternity.
Dean refocused his eyes, taking in the homey activities taking place inside the 
cozy room. He watched in amazement as the little girl ate more food than he had. 
Amusement touched the hallowed out area where his soul was supposed to be. He 
struggled to keep the chuckle that desperately wanted to escape.
Glancing at Kristian, he saw that she had sensed his mirth, his mood swiftly 
changed itself to one of solemnity. He had forgotten how sensitive to his moods 
she was. The shadow cast by his hat brim still covered his face, he made sure of 
it, pulling on the thing every so often, but she had still known how he felt.
His steely gray eyes never wavered from her, taking in every emotion that 
flickered across the blazing emerald eyes. Uncertainty settled onto her face and 
he bit back a curse. She was still scared of him. That wasn't what he wanted.
Annoyed at himself for even caring about this pair of vulnerable females, Dean 
testily scraped back the chair and bound to his feet. He didn't miss the slight 
jump Kristian gave at his quick movement, nor did he miss how her eyes darted 
around the room, no doubt in an attempt to locate the shotgun.
Irritated even more at his own rash behavior, he spoke harshly, "Looks to me 
like you need a good hand to work for you. I'll be staying on a while, if you 
have no objections, of course." He flinched inwardly if not on the outside at 
the tone of his voice.
Stunned and privately pleased at his staying, Kristian pretended to consider the 
situation. Finally after several weighty seconds she spoke evenly, "That would 
be fine. You'll be paid the same as the others. The men sleep out behind the 
barn, or in poor weather inside the barn. You're welcome to eat with us, 
however, beings that you helped us and all."
He nodded his head. He'd planned on staying whether she wanted him to or not, 
but at least now she wouldthink she had the upper hand. And he would be close to 
her.
Brusquely, he turned and started for the door, only to be stopped when Kristian 
added, "Oh! And you must remember thatI am the boss. So, if you have no 
objections to taking orders from a woman,then you may stay on."
Again, his only acknowledgement was the slight nod of his head; he didn't even 
turn to look at her.
As he reached the door, however, Reggie jumped up and ran after him. "Dean, will 
you be staying here, then?"
He slowly turned his face to look down on the little girl. At his pensive nod, 
her face broke into a grin.
"Can I go with you today?"
"Oh! Reggie!" Kristian burst out of her chair, knocking it over as she rushed to 
her daughter's side. Kristian was shocked at her daughter's instant acceptance 
of this man. "I don't think that is a good idea. Mister...uh, I mean... 
Dean...has work to do," she added trying to recover her composure.
It wasn't that she felt Reggie wouldn't be safe with Dean, but she just wanted 
to wait a bit and make a better judgement of the man. Her past experience wasn't 
good with men. In all reality, she reasoned, if he wanted to do them harm, he 
would have last night. Or for that matter, today, for she had learned that 
daylight did not mean safety. None of those things, however, meant she had to 
send her daughter off with him.
She sensed the emotions buried deep within him, tightly locked behind the high 
wall of strength he portrayed. He didn't proclaim his autocratic trait but she 
was sure it was there, just not as arrogantly demonstrated as Broody and Buck.
She strained to see into the shadow ensconcing his face. Suddenly he looked 
away, and by a play in the light she was granted a quick glance into the man's 
face. But just as quickly it was gone. He faced her again, his hand tugging down 
the tattered hat.
She blinked, trying to comprehend what she had seen. She had an image of the 
stubborn jaw, lined with black stubble. What had remained branded in the back of 
her eyes was the momentary flash of pearly white lines. She dismissed the 
notion. How could he have white lines on his face? That didn't make any sense.
She could feel his eyes boring into hers, measuring her. She knew he would find 
her wanting, but she stiffened her spine anyway. She didn't need any man, nor 
did she need this one. She could handle the ranch just fine without the arrogant 
domineering of any man.
Finally, Dean ended the awkward silence, "Maybe some other time, Reggie."
She saw the crown of his hat dip lower and knew he had removed his piercing gaze 
from her. She felt set adrift by the sudden loss of contact with him.
"Ifyour ma says it's alright," his voice was thick with mocking sarcasm. 
Reaching down, he ruffled the hair that Kristian had just braided, but the look 
of worship on Reggie's face was worth a million re-braids.
As the door shut behind him, Kristian resisted the urge to slam her fist against 
it. She felt as though a charging bull had just ran loose inside her home. 
Running over her without ever kicking back dirt. Her heart slowed its beating 
with his absence. The small skein of sweat glistening over her body suddenly 
turned cold. Disappointment turned her stomach.
What had she allowed to enter their lives?
CHAPTER 5
The knock on the front door resounded through the house. Kristian's hands froze, 
the dish she had been drying forgotten. She set the half-dried plate down on the 
scarred kitchen counter with exaggerated gentleness and faced the looming 
entrance.
Her heart jumped into her throat. The rush of fear caused her to feel 
lightheaded. What if it had all been a very bad joke? What if Buck was still 
alive? Panic threatened to overtake her.
With desperation she reminded herself that Buck and Broody were out of her life. 
Even Buck Rosell couldn't defeat death. Although Dean hadn't been specific as to 
Broody's outcome, he had said he wouldn't bother her anymore.
But what if he was wrong? What if...
The unimaginable fact that Buck was dead refused to absorb into her mind and 
with each step closer she came to the door reality diminished. Buck was so damn 
inconsistent. It would be just like him to pretend death to judge her reaction 
and then punish her for not acting bereaved enough.
The constant aches that had plagued her though out the morning faded into 
nothing. Everything but the person behind that knock meant nothing. Her tongue 
thickened until she knew speech would be impossible.
Reaching for the thick wooden bar, preventing entry, she paused. Cognizant 
thought returned in a rush and she scanned the room for the rifle. After Dean's 
departure she had stopped worrying about it's whereabouts. Now she deemed 
herself a fool.
Again the knock sounded through the door and she knew time was of the essence. 
With an offhanded glance above the door, she found her gun. Her hands shook as 
they closed around the cold, impersonal metal. Checking to make sure it was 
loaded she stopped abruptly. It was newly polished, clean of residue -- and 
loaded; Kristian could only stare in bewilderment.
She knew who had taken care of it for her and a thrill of pleasure rippled 
through her. Dean. She ran her finger over the gray metal and knew he had 
cleaned it as she slept last night.
Another knock stirred her from her emotional siege.
Cocking the gun with a quick, decisive click, Kristian pushed aside the 
unwilling responses she felt toward the man simply called Dean. Now, her only 
thought was of the little girl playing somewhere in the small house, trusting 
her mother to fend for her.
With the sleek weapon in her hands, Kristian felt much more confident. The fear 
from earlier disappeared, arrogance replacing it. If it was Broody, he would get 
one hell of a surprise.
Reaching for the wooden bar to open the door, Kristian remembered Broody 
disarming her. The blood drained from her face, leaving her lightheaded and 
dizzy. Still, she held her ground, finger on the trigger,waiting .
"Who's there?" her voice was harsh with false bravado. Unconsciously, she held 
her breath until the person was identified.
"Uh, Ms. Rosell it's me, Cowboy."
The scratchy reply sent relief flooding through her, threatening to overwhelm 
her already saturated emotions. Lowering the shotgun, she leaned her forehead 
against the tepid wood of the door for just the briefest of moments.
Quickly she recovered, straightening her shoulders, raising her chin and forcing 
an emotionless expression upon her face. Sliding the bolt away, she pulled the 
heavy door open. The sight before her brought a reluctant grin to her face. 
There stood a man taller, bigger, and much older than she, yet his expression 
was that of a recalcitrant child come for his scolding. He stared at the cowboy 
hat held between thick callused hands, bending the bill back and forth with his 
long fingers.
Slowly he raised his head, meeting her inquiring gaze. His faded blue eyes and 
down turned lips set her aback. She remained quiet and waited patiently for him 
to speak.
"Ms. Rosell, I uh, wanted to apologize for not being here last night. I went to 
the south pasture to check the herd. I didn't think, else I would've realized 
Broody would give you problems."
The sincerity in his voice rang true to her ears.
Then, in a quick rush, he continued explaining, "I heard the shot on my way back 
in and ran the horse as fast as I could. When I got here though, the Undertaker 
was already here."
To her horror she felt the heat of embarrassment climbing up her neck to light 
her face in scarlet.
"I was assured you were safe. But this mornin' I knew I needed to come here and 
explain," he mumbled.
She took a moment to organize her thoughts. If the undertaker had been here last 
night, then Broody was dead. Henry Pallow, the official undertaker of Dover, was 
not a person to waste time. His only purpose here would have been to collect a 
dead body.
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. It didn't make since for him to come all the way 
out to the ranch. Usually the dead was brought to him. Cowboy shuffled his feet 
and replaced his hat on his gray head, reminding Kristian of his presence. The 
only person that could answer why the undertaker had been here was Dean.
Dean. Another thing to have to speak with the unsettling man about. Just the 
mere thought of him caused her flesh to tingle. But she had no choice; she would 
have to speak with him about this. Curiosity drove her.
She felt a huge weight lifted from her shoulders at the knowledge that Broody 
was dead. Dean had said that Broody wouldn't bother her anymore but she hadn't 
fully believed it. Until now.
Poor Cowboy, she thought, he looked really worried that she would dismiss him.
"Cowboy, I'll be honest, I never really noticed you around here before. But I am 
very thankful to have you with me now. I would like you to be my foreman." She 
saw his bewildered expression and gave him a small smile. "But," she hesitated 
briefly to convey the seriousness, "Understand first, I will be the boss and 
therefore you will talk to me about everything before doing it. Is it agreed?"
Cowboy's mouth flapped in the wind a few times before he managed to stutter, 
"Yes, Ms. Rosell. Of course I accept. You won't regret it."
"Let's hope not." She shifted to a no nonsense tone of voice and continued, "Now 
you've met the new hand, Dean?"
Cowboy gave Kristian an odd look and then very slowly nodded his head. "Yes'm," 
he paused, his prominent Adam's apple sliding up and down his throat. "He's to 
be workingunder me?" he asked, incredulously.
Kristian's delicate eyebrows raised in surprise. Puzzled, she asked, "Cowboy, is 
there a problem?"
After a second of hesitation, Cowboy shook his head, "No ma'am."
"Good! We have lots of work that needs to be done before the first snow."
Kristian wasted no time putting the remaining men to work. She wanted the barn 
roof repaired first. Dover being such a small settlement there wasn't a sawmill 
and she didn't have the money to order lumber from Denver. With slightly more 
than ten hired workers the process would be slow.
In the next few weeks, the men cut trees down and chopped them into long strips, 
which were then hacked into small flats. The flats were stacked into a pile, to 
be used as shingles atop the barn.
As the pile grew, the men established a routine for the day. When the sun 
bleached the darkness from the night with the beginning of a new day, the men 
were already up. They ate a hardy breakfast, cooked by one of their own, and 
then climbed up on the roof. Spending all morning their hammering the self-made 
shingles into place. With the help of a purchased ladder and ropes for safety, 
the covering took shape.
The light tan of freshly chopped wood layered on the top of the building 
compared to the aged and weathered gray lining the sides made a very unusual 
sight.
The remainder of the day was spent chopping fresh wood for the next day. Trees 
were chosen from various places upon the property so that no area would become 
sparse.
Every evening the sun set in the west, spilling pools of saffron and currant 
across the green meadows and rising blue mountains, changing their beauty to a 
deeper, more intense color. Among this beauty Kristian stood regarding the 
emerging roof with great pride. To her every shingle signified another step into 
her future. Joy filled her heart as she realized the control she had over her 
path in life. As each day passed, her soul seemed to thaw a little more.
Life could only improve.
***
Dean watched her, standing inside the deep shadows surrounding her home, as she 
gazed at the incongruous building. Why she didn't just tear the decaying barn 
down and start over was beyond him. Unconsciously shaking his head, he followed 
her gaze. He only saw an arrangement of crudely cut wood, fit together to make 
an odd looking structure. The roof, although put together carefully by the men, 
would most likely leak with the first good rain. The wind whistled between the 
weathered boards on the sides and it shimmied with a hard wind. It wasn't a 
pretty sight.
Irresistibly, Dean's gaze returned to Kristian. She stood only yards away, 
unaware of his eyes burning into her. Drinking in the sight of her beauty. It 
was the same each night.
Her face was untouched by time. Even after six years she showed no signs of 
aging. He had forgotten how beautiful she really was.
The sinking sun cast rays of crimson onto her chestnut hair, changing the shade 
to a deep burgundy. Her eyes shut lightly and he watched closely as she inhaled 
the pine scented air. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to kiss the 
delicate skin of her eyelids. Lingering long enough to brand her, forever, as 
his.
He missed her so much.Patience , he reminded himself. It would take time. 
Fighting for restraint, he stepped back, emerging deeper into the shadows of the 
forest. He watched as she went back to the house, unaware of his presence.
He sent up a silent praise that he'd found her,once again .
CHAPTER 6
Kristian stared hard across the table at Dean, drinking in the sight of the damp 
curly locks at his nape. It was obvious he had taken pains to freshen up as he 
had every night since his arrival. Working hard during the day, most of the men 
collapsed into their bedrolls immediately following their humble dinners. Dean, 
however, came to her table with the smell of fresh pine clinging to him.
This enigma of the man still stumped her. In the two weeks since his arrival, 
she had yet to catch a glimpse of his whole face.
At times she caught a glimpse of his face but somehow he managed to keep the 
shadow to his advantage. At the table, he kept his head bent, looking over at 
Reggie with an odd angle of his head. The natural curiosity in her was dying to 
see him, to whip that infernal black hat off his head. To see what she suspected 
was a handsome face.
She resisted the urge simply by keeping her hands busy. Forcing herself to keep 
them folded in her lap or busy with dishes took all the self-respect she 
possessed.
As she stared at him, he unconsciously moved his head into the light beam cast 
by the two flickering lamps. She could just distinguish the outline of his lips 
and the feral gleam of his eyes. Her gaze was distracted however, by the 
reflection of light cast from what appeared to be jagged lines on his face. 
Narrowing her eyes, she focused on those areas, puzzled.
As though, sensing her gaze, he raised his hand and tugged the hat brim a bit 
lower. Effectively hiding even the mere hint of facial features she'd seen. 
Annoyance rippled through her. Once again she was possessed by the urge to rip 
the ever-present hat off his gorgeous dark head.
The thought shocked her. It was merely because it was rude, that was the only 
reason, she assured herself. And his head wasn't gorgeous. No. No. She was only 
curious. Anyone would be.
But an inner whisper, called her what she was...A liar...
She wanted to see his face. Who was this man eating at her table every day? 
Despite her desire to confront him, she bit her lip, holding back the words.
She forced herself to switch her gaze to the little girl, concentrating on the 
story she told. Reggie sat to her right and hadn't stopped talking since the 
meal began. Involuntarily, Kristian's gaze slipped back to Dean. As usual, he 
remained silent, listening avidly to Reggie's tale. She couldn't help but be 
curious of his past. She wanted to know so much about him, but her pride 
wouldn't allow her to ask. Instead she returned her attention to her daughter.
Reggie paused in her story long enough to shove a spoonful of potatoes in her 
mouth. Chewing only long enough to swallow the major portion of her bite, she 
divided the remainder into the hollows of her cheeks to continue talking. 
Kristian bit back a smile.
Buck had hated Reggie's prattling. He would listen to a few minutes of her 
renditions of the day and then yell at her to shut up. Eventually the girl had 
stopped talking completely except to Kristian. It amazed her that Reggie felt 
comfortable enough with Dean to share her day. Kristian loved how Reggie was 
coming out of her shell. She did worry how Dean would respond. The slightest 
wrong word might make her withdraw again.
She couldn't have that...
"Reggie, honey, you need to be quiet for a little while and eat your dinner," 
Kristian gently admonished, casting a cautious look at Dean. She could sense his 
gaze the moment she spoke, raking her flesh, tracing a blazing trail across her 
face.
Reggie looked a trifle hurt but mostly confused. "Why Mama? Don't you want to 
hear about Puddles?" Reggie cocked her head to the side, awaiting her mother's 
answer.
"Dumplin', I'm sure you've had lots of fun with your kitten today. But Dean 
isn't used to such continuous chatter and perhaps he'd rather eat in silence."
Kristian was trying to be gentle with her daughter but she didn't want Reggie to 
irritate Dean. Her daughter admired him for whatever reason and if he censured 
her it would break Reggie's heart.
"It's alright. I don't like silence a whole lot," he rasped out to her. He had 
watched this interchange between mother and child carefully. Kristian's emotions 
played across her face, easily readable. She'd always been like that. The need 
to reassure her grew stronger with each passing second.
Reggie's continuous talk actually seemed very comforting to him. It reminded him 
of his sister's when they used to rattle on and on about nothing but everything. 
He had taken it for granted when they'd been around. Now he knew better.
Humbled by Reggie's worship, he made sure to smile a lot and listen while she 
spoke. Far be it for him to hurt her.
He shrugged at Kristian but spoke to Reggie. "I like hearing about your kitten 
and dolls and anything else you care to share with me, Reggie." He reached over 
to her and rumpled her hair affectionately. "I even enjoy hearing about your 
Ma."
His voice was thick with mischief, bringing a small smile to her lips. She could 
see her daughter beaming up at Dean as her story started flowing again.
A lump formed in her throat. Tears of gratitude and regret mingled behind her 
eyes. She looked down at her plate, blinking rapidly to hide them but it was too 
late.
She knew he was looking at her again and felt pulled to look at him, as if he 
had spoken to her with the request. She fought it. The man already affected her 
in too many ways. She didn't want to share her emotions with him.
"Thank you," she whispered, not wanting to interrupt Reggie's story.
Dean saw her lips move and understood the words without hearing them. The tears 
sparkled in her eyes, leaving a silver trail as they slid down her cheeks. He 
wanted to kiss the pain away, sip the tears from her face.
He longed to bolt from the chair, making a mad dash out the front door, 
outrunning the overwhelming force. He didn't indulge in the indulgence but 
steeled himself, his hands balled into tight fists, and remained in his chair.
Kristian stood, hastily grabbing a dishtowel and ran it across the already clean 
counter. Dashing her tears away with the sides of her hands, she poured hot 
water from the reservoir on the back of the stove, into the basin. Carelessly 
she added soap chips to the steaming water and plunged her rag into it. The 
water burnt her flesh, but she didn't feel it. The eyes boring into her back 
kept all the senses in her body on overload.
With jerky, erratic motions, she wiped down the minor spills from cooking 
dinner, cursing herself. She felt like the fool, crying in front of Dean. 
Theboss could not be some sniveling sissy. If she gave into this side of her 
personality, even the smallest fraction, her strength would dissipate. She 
couldn't afford to show anyone besides Reggie her soft side.
She had never known a man like him. He seemed to be there every time she turned 
around and to her dismay she didn't entirely dislike it.
"No," she silently yelled at herself, clinching her fists around the towel. "I 
don't need aman!" Slamming a pot down onto the counter, she screamed inside. "I 
had one and look where it got me! Stuck with Buck Rosell!" Grabbing the sudsy 
dishrag she scrubbed the worn ledge of the sink. "He's just a man, nothing 
more." The inner willpower that had helped to sustain her began to return. With 
it came the familiar control she portrayed on the outside. The calm, rational 
rancher.
Feeling fortified against his silent and unknown draw once again, she threw the 
rag back into the water sprinkling the counter with water and suds and 
confidently faced the table. Snatching up the dirty dinnerware from the table 
she avoided Dean's gaze.
He watched her from under hooded eyes and a shielding shadow. She was 
magnificent! Her beautiful emerald eyes were enough for anyone to be enraptured. 
Add her body of luscious flowing curves, and a man was hard pressed not to 
desire her. She still guarded herself towards him, but he would win her trust. 
Only then could he reveal his true identity.
Not long after Kristian got up, Reggie finished her long-winded story. Quickly 
leaving the table she explained to Dean, "Mama and I made a new toy for Puddles 
before dinner! I can't wait to see if she likes it!"
Dean followed her with his gaze as she ran to play with her kitten in front of 
the crackling living room fire. Puddles, right on Reggie's heels, swiped her 
paws at the little girl's shoes. He cracked a smile at the humorous 
entertainment the two provided.
Sliding his gaze back to Kristian, he carefully pulled the hat brim low and made 
sure to tip his head forward. She paid him no attention, but walked back and 
forth to the small pantry beside the door, returning items used with dinner. He 
knew she would continue to ignore him, unless he made it impossible.
When Kristian returned from her last trip into the pantry she was amazed to find 
Dean helping to clear the table.
"You don't have to do that. I'll take care of it," she snapped, seizing the 
plate from his hands without looking up at him.
Dean calmly, but firmly, took the plate back from her. "I don't expect you to 
wait on me,Kristian, " he whispered, so close to her that the warm breath 
expelled from his words fanned across her face.
His nearness caused an uncertain ache to fill her core. She could smell the 
fresh pine scent radiating from his body. He wasn't intimidating her like Buck, 
standing close and towering over her. Nor did he press his hands or any other 
part of his body against her in a lewd manner as Broody.
No, this felt completely different. He stood near but yet he seemed so far away. 
So distant that if she reached out she wouldn't be able to touch him. He stirred 
foreign emotions within her. He was polite, gracious, and never tried to take 
liberties with her. Reggie adored him and he acted as if he returned the 
feelings. Yet, she felt so disconcerted around him.
Kristian resisted the urge to look up, she couldn't, if she did, she knew, she 
would be lost. After a few moments of silence, he moved away from her to place 
the dish on the counter. The chaos inside of her seemed to ease as, at the same 
time, her body longed for his return.
She stepped back from him, allowing distance to settle safely around them. 
Closing her eyes, she pushed away the feelings with regret. She didn't need this 
man, now or ever.
With grudging gratitude Kristian turned back to the water, allowing him to stand 
to her left and assist. As he helped her with the washing and drying of dishes, 
neither of them said a word. Nor did they look at each other. They just did the 
chore as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Kristian felt every accidental brush of fingertips as they passed dishes on to 
the other. Kristian swallowed hard at the first few touches, nearly dropping the 
plate in avoidance of the contact, but said nothing.
As with every night, he checked her woodbin before leaving. Finding it too 
shallow for his taste, he left and reentered carrying an armload of chopped 
logs. Despite Kristian's protests that they had enough, he filled it completely.
Only then did he tap his hat with his index finger and utter a quiet, "Thank 
you." Reggie was still up and downstairs and Dean didn't fail to include her. 
"Goodnight, Reggie."
The little girl smiled up at him and reciprocated his good wishes. Following one 
more time of ruffling her hair he left. Kristian stared at the closed door for a 
long moment before slowly walking forward and bolting it. She felt bereft and 
lonelier than ever.
Kristian bathed Reggie and told her a story as she tucked her into bed. They 
didn't have any books as Buck had thought it a great waste of time and money. 
Kristian could, however, remember several stories her parents had recited to her 
as a child. Tonight she shared a particular favorite about a lonely princess 
that was saved by a handsome prince.
"Mama," Reggie said in a confidential whisper.
Kristian leaned closely and whispered back, "Yes, darlin'?"
"I like Dean," she disclosed. "Do you?"
Kristian swallowed the instant denial that came to her lips. After only a split 
second of thought, she nodded her head. "Yes, I do."
Placing one last kiss on Reggie's head, Kristian slipped from the room.
***
Kristian lounged against the hard wood of the tub. Her head lolled back in 
leisure. The ambiance of the warm fire and silkiness of the water never failed 
to ease the tension in her body.
Buck and Broody were out for the night, carousing the small town of Dover. 
Reggie slept peacefully upstairs. A deep sigh slipped from her lips as she 
relaxed in the peaceful atmosphere.
Suddenly, the front door of the house burst open. Buck and Broody stopped in 
their muddy tracks before the door had even quit moving. Their mouths hung agape 
and their eyes fairly bulged forth. A flush of excitement crept up both men's 
faces.
Kristian sprang forward, sending water splashing over the edges of the tub. Her 
hands attempted, in vain, to cover her bare breasts. Her eyes widened with 
surprise and shock.
"Buck! Please! Take Broody outside and let me dress."
A slow, sickening smile spread across Buck's thin lips sending shivers of dread 
down Kristian's spine.
"Well now, Kristian. If you were all that concerned about it you wouldn't be 
naked."
"Buck please! I w...was just bathing," Kristian pleaded.
Not paying any heed to Kristian's words, Buck demanded, "Where's the brat?"
"Reggieis in bed," she answered, choosing to ignore Buck's callous choice of 
words. "Please Buck...Would you and your brother take yourselves out? 
I'll...I'll hurry and be waiting for you upstairs." Although she insinuated 
much, she had no intention of giving anything.
Buck remained silent for a few moments as he stared at her. "Ya know, I've kept 
you pretty much to myself since I made the mistake of marrying you. I've never 
kept anything from Broody."
Kristian paled. She had to get out of here. Had to escape their wicked 
intentions. Broody smiled, following Buck's line of thought. He slapped the door 
shut behind them with such finality that Kristian was flooded with panic.
"Fine!" she said with false indifference and a shrug of her bare shoulder. "If 
you don't care if he sees me as the good Lord made me, then I don't either!" 
Taking a deep breath for courage, Kristian stood and lunged for the towel draped 
across the nearby chair.
Buck was faster than her and snatched it up. His eyes roamed across her naked 
body, drinking in the creamy perfection. The bulge in his trousers poked out 
through the thin cloth. Smug satisfaction ran through his blunt features.
"So what do ya think, little brother?" his voice bellowed, tainted with pride. 
"Ain't she got the finest teats on 'er?"
Broody's eyes were wide, the view of Kristian rendered him speechless. He could 
only nod his head.
"Buck!" Kristian screeched. He couldn't do this to her. He just couldn't. Goose 
pimples arose on her skin and she began to shake.
Paying no heed to Kristian, Buck turned to his brother. "Will she do for 
tonight?" His yellow teeth reflected the blinking fire in the hearth.
Broody eagerly nodded his head, and Buck slapped his hands together.
"Good! Kristian! Drop down onto the floor and spread your legs, woman!" he 
barked out, pointing to the floor with an imperious finger.
Kristian, no matter the consequences, could not relinquish her body to these 
two. Damn the results! she thought defiantly. Forcing a sweet smile on her face, 
she stepped delicately from the wooden wash tub. When both feet were firmly on 
the ground, she used the element of surprise. With all her might, she struck 
Buck in the groin. She felt the power in her kick even before he doubled over in 
pain.
Spinning on her heels, she fled from the room. Gaining the stairs, she felt a 
certain mad hope rise in her. Just as she reached half way a hand grabbed her 
ankle and jerked. She hit the stairs hard, knocking the breath from her.
She kicked with her free foot and scratched wildly at the hand on her ankle. The 
hard floor bit into her skin, as she was dragged back to the great room. Her 
knees burned from rawness, her back felt as if stripped of all skin. Her fingers 
desperately clawed at furniture and the floor, praying for anything to stop her 
progress.
Strong hands grabbed her face and forced her to look straight into Buck's cold 
brown eyes.
"You are going to regret not minding me, Kristian."
Screaming, Kristian bolted upright in the bed. Tears blurred her vision and 
confusion fuddled her mind. Her gaze darted around the bedroom, taking in the 
smoldering fire and shadows of the deep corners. With frantic hysteria, she 
kicked aside the restraining bed sheets that stuck to her sweat-soaked body.
Unable to free herself she fell from the bed, propelling herself away from the 
hindrance. Kneeling she groped for the lantern on the table. She turned it up, 
having never blowing it out completely. Rising to her feet, she spun in circles 
casting the light around the room, searching out every corner. The cover on the 
lantern teetered wildly, threatening to topple to the floor. As the shadows 
faded with the light so did her fears.
She was alone.
A dream, it had been a dream. She shook her head, but it had not. It had all 
happened, just not tonight. In front of the dying fire, she sank to her knees, 
the lantern forgotten in her fingers.
Tears of pain scorched a path down her cheeks. She cried for not only the 
physical violation that had been inflicted but the humiliation too.
"I hope you're roasting in hell, Buck Rosell!" she yelled out loud at the empty 
room. "God forgive me, but I do! I do!" Dissolving into a mass of sobs she 
rocked back and forth hugging her quivering knees.
CHAPTER 7
Dean came for breakfast, as always, before Reggie awoke. Kristian didn't speak 
and was only passably polite. He could feel the chasm between them and was 
baffled at the change in her. He didn't want to care what she felt. He didn't 
want to even care for her.
He tried doing just that, but every time he did, one of her smiles would curve 
her lips, or a moment of fragility would shine in her eyes and he would melt. 
Like snow under the sun, he would wither. All the years he'd spent cursing her 
name and hoping for her love in the next breath would disappear, mattered 
nothing compared to his desire to make this woman smile.
Even now, as he stared at her over his coffee cup, he wished he could lighten 
the load weighing in her eyes. How he wished that the past could be changed. His 
own pain over the past came to the forefront then. The grief he'd suffered 
through because of her. His jaw tightened and his fists clenched.
Why? He questioned himself. She hadn't wanted him, hadn't even waited for him. 
Why?
A sound of rapt feet running down the stairs warned them both of Reggie's 
arrival. Kristian, remained sitting, but opened her arms up for her daughter. 
The little girl ran into them, her black hair flying behind her.
"Goo'morning Mama," Reggie exclaimed, wiping her sleepy eyes.
Kristian closed her eyes, and smoothed her hand down the back of Reggie's hair. 
"Good morning, my love."
Dean's gaze rested heavily upon Kristian. He couldn't help but wonder what had 
happened through the night to cause her to distance herself even more from him. 
He'd thought they'd made very real progress. As he looked at her strained smile, 
though, he realized she didn't feel the same.
She was still as fickle as before.
His perceiving gaze drank up the sight of her. Her warm chestnut hair was pulled 
tightly back into a bun at the nape of her neck, as usual. She wore the same 
god-awful brown calico dress that she wore everyday. Judging by the way her body 
swayed when she walked, she still hadn't put on any underclothes.
He felt the familiar stirring in his loins and averted his gaze from her 
unencumbered body. He stared blankly at the eggs Kristian had cooked for him. 
How he wished he could shut her out.
As soon as it was safe for him to stand without alarming Kristian or educating 
Reggie, he did. With the customary tapping of his hat, he left to start work 
outside. He sensed that she needed time to herself. For that matter so did he.
She watched him go, musing to herself at how natural his proximity seemed. 
Although she still didn't share anything unnecessary with him, she felt no 
animosity towards him either.
It was an acceptable existence.
She was shocked to realize she was used to having him around. And, as if that 
wasn't enough, she was actually enjoying it. His habitual trait of scraping back 
the chair as he arose from the table no longer made her jump. In fact a lot of 
the time she found herself wanting to share the trivial happenings of the day 
with him. This both bothered and pleased her.
Shaking her head, she began clearing the table. "I don't need a man in my life," 
she repeated quietly. "It doesn't matter if he is a friend or not; men are 
trouble!" As if to emphasize her point, she slammed the plates down with a thump 
onto the counter. Last night's dream flashed through her thoughts, reminding her 
again of the reasons she distrusted men.
"I am perfectly capable of caring for this ranchand my daughter." The thoughts 
spoken aloud to herself seemed to make them more solid. "He is just very good 
company!" she insisted, scouring the table with exaggerated effort.
Then, instantly stopping her motions, she broke into a chuckle. He seldom said 
anything at all. "So how couldhe be good company?"
Reggie raised her head, examining her mother's mirth with curiosity. "Did you 
say something, Mama?"
Stifling her laughter, Kristian shook her head, "No, sweetie." Her lips twitched 
as she remembered her own private joke. Slapping the wet cloth onto the empty 
basin, Kristian turned to her daughter. "So, what do you want to do first? Help 
me sweep the floor, or go out and visit Nugget?"
As Reggie informed her of many other things she would rather do today, Kristian 
thought only about Dean, the stranger they ate with.
Who was he?
***
As the days and nights slipped away, she began to appreciate his company more 
and more. Whenever he was around she felt safe and protected. She wanted nothing 
to do withany man. Yet, she felt so alone at night when he left.
The quiet home that had once soothed her newfound peace, now only added to her 
impatience. She almost wished for a confrontation with him. To disillusion 
herself with this stranger named Dean.
"What is it that I want!" she demanded of her pillow, almost every night, as she 
lay alone in her bed. "I had dreamed of being free of the Rosell family. Now 
that I am, I find myself still wanting. But wanting for what!" The only answer 
was the crackle of burning wood in the fireplace. Sleeping fitfully, she found 
herself more and more irritable.
Dean's gaze followed her everywhere. She couldn't see them, granted, but she 
could feel them on her, burning through the meager clothing she wore. At times 
when she thought herself alone she would suddenly feel his scorching gaze slide 
over her. When she dared to look up he would be there, several yards away, but 
there none-the- less.
As the month of November dawned, Kristian became more and more involved with the 
hands who worked on her ranch. She refused to allow the fear that had isolated 
her for so long continue.
One morning, sucking in large amounts of the chilly air, Kristian came out to 
the crew's camp. The men, sitting on their heels around the fire, stood up when 
they saw her.
Cowboy rushed forward as fast as his irregular gait would allow. "Ms. Rosell, 
forgive me for saying so, but you shouldn't be here. These men could take it 
wrong."
Closing the space between her and the men, Kristian answered loud enough for all 
to hear. "Don't worry none, Cowboy. Anyone that tries anything will get shot, 
plain and simple." She tightened her grip on the rifle she carried, hoping she 
wouldn't have to use it. "Thisis my land. I have the right to go anywhere I 
please." Scanning the handful of men, she narrowed her eyes for a moment then 
returned her gaze to meet Cowboy's. "Wouldn't you agree, Cowboy?"
With a toothy grin, he nodded his head and ground out, "Yes'm Ms. Rosell."
Pleased with his response she turned slowly and looked over the hands, one by 
one. Trying to ignore Dean leaning against the barn, she focused on a tall lanky 
man with blond hair. His was the only gaze that met her head on, she read no 
disrespect within those bright blue eyes, only forthright honesty.
"Jim, isn't it?"
"Yes ma'am," his voice clear and loud in the placid atmosphere.
"Jim, you and Terrell go to the south pasture and move the herd to the north 
valley first thing this morning. Take plenty of supplies with you, snow could be 
coming any day now."
Jim spared a glance at Cowboy, a meaningful exchange flashing between their 
eyes. After only a slight pause, he looked over at Dean, a silent question 
filling their depths. To Kristian's disbelief, Dean nodded his head so slightly 
that she was unsure her eyes had actually seen it.
"Is there a problem?" she asked Cowboy.
"Well ma'am, we already did that," he said, his head bowed as he avoided her 
eyes.
Kristian crossed her arms, the rifle slung underneath. "I see, and who told you 
to do so?"
Cowboy's head remained lowered, and not a word was uttered from any of the 
hands. Kristian pierced each man with a withering look, as all but one 
studiously stared at his boots.
Dean lazily pushed away from the barn wall, striding into the circle of men. He 
stopped only a few feet from her. Drawing the smoking cheroot from his mouth, he 
replied off handedly, "I told them to."
The fury that flowed through her veins struck her speechless. How dare he? Her 
body shook with righteous indignation.
In the end Cowboy saved her from speaking. "Ms. Rosell, my apologies ma'am. I 
should have checked with you but...Well, I thought it only made sense, and was 
sure that you, yourself, would want it done, too."
Knowing that he offered her the only way out while salvaging her pride, she 
nodded her head. Giving Dean one last withering glare, she turned and walked 
away, her chin thrust out and her head held high.
From that point on Kristian watched the ranch hands more carefully and saw them 
look to Dean on every order. Even her faithful Cowboy looked toward him for 
approval. The fact ate at her, irritated her and she wrestled with the 
resolution.
The power he seemed to be acquiring threatened her very existence. Power she had 
not given him, but to Cowboy. Cowboy, himself, seemed not the least bit offended 
by Dean's presumptions.
Kristian had long since learned not to allow anger to show. It was a weakness 
that others could exploit. To the point of exploding, she took her vengeance out 
in her garden.
On hands and knees, she pulled each stray weed with vigor. It was time to 
harvest the squash and pumpkins but she needed to get rid of some of the excess 
energy bubbling inside her. How dare he take over her working men! She fumed in 
silence, muttering occasionally about the origins of his birth.
The earthy smell seeped into her nostrils, like a balm for her spirit. The 
gratifying sight of a healthy garden renewed her self-esteem.
Standing, she turned on her heels to retrieve a basket from the house and 
collided into a hard chest. Jumping back with a faint scream, she saw to her 
fury none other than Dean. He stood there with his hands upon his hips looking 
down from his viewpoint of well over six-feet.
The fury that had fueled her only seconds before fled in that moment. For the 
first time the shadow that perpetually hid his face had retreated. The view, 
still heavily veiled by lacy shadows, offered only a fragment of reality but her 
eyes rounded at the sight.
Perfectly shaped eyes, although the color was indistinguishable, glittered out 
at her. His nose, long and thin, boasted proportional accuracy to his face. 
Luscious full lips peaked out at her from beneath the shadow. A strong square 
jaw line shadowed with black stubble attested to his stubborn streak. Faintly 
she registered the scars that littered his features but the overall sight of 
such winsome looks diminished the flaws.
Blinking back the wave of physical awareness, Kristian returned her gaze to the 
feral glitter of his eyes. For several thick moments they did nothing but stare 
at each other. A funny tingling sensation began in her stomach and pooled at the 
center of her body.
Slowly a very sensual smile carved its way onto Dean's chiseled features. That 
cocky grin snapped her senses back together better than anything else could 
have. She wanted nothing to do with sex. Narrowing her eyes, she remembered why 
she'd been out here in the first place. All tact lost to her now she confronted 
him.
"Why are the men looking to you when I tell them to do something?" she demanded, 
taking a large step backwards. She felt in control of the situation by catching 
him unawares.
She waited for his answer to her question for so long that she began to feel 
foolish. Refusing to back down though, she informed him imperiously, "I am the 
boss around here, Dean. You knew that when you signed on. If it displeases you, 
well, maybe you should move on." She jabbed at the air in front of his chest 
with her finger as she spoke the last. Turning her back on him, she tried to 
control her fury.
"Ma'am, I guess I can't rightly answer that," he said in his thick drawl.
She whirled around to look at him, not the least lost in his direction of 
conversation. "You don't discourage them though, do you?" Stomping her foot, she 
ground her teeth to control the steam that threatened to topple the tenuous lid 
she held on her anger. "In fact, you give them orders!"
His hand reached up and tugged the ever-present hat lower over his face, and he 
coughed a bit, uncomfortably. "Well, I guess I don't really discourage it. They 
make up their own minds."
This admission only added to her fire.
"What about Cowboy? I did make him the foreman here!" She demanded.
"That you did," he agreed with a lazy nod of his head.
"That is right! I did!" she concluded, crossing her arms stubbornly.
The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement, but he was careful to hide it 
behind the intentional darkness over his face.
"Kristian, the men follow who they want. They need a firm leader," he defended 
himself. "I'm only working here; I've never told them what to do."
"You don't have to!" she yelled. "By silently nodding you are undermining my 
authority! And Cowboy's at that!" She was so infuriated that she forgot this was 
the first time in years she was unafraid to express her real feelings.
He knew there would be no reasoning with her. In reality she judged the 
situation correctly. The hands did look to him. He knew it and didn't discourage 
it for his own reasons. Soon he would take over the running of the ranch and it 
would be smoother if the men already followed him. She'd been doing a good job 
so far but he'd been in the background, making sure.
Guilt overwhelmed him. God forbid she learn of the true ownership before he was 
ready. Not wanting to confess all, he turned around to walk away.
Her ire was quickly forgotten when he began to leave her.
"Dean, wait!" she called after him, instantly regretting her impulsive words as 
soon as they left her mouth.
Ever so slowly, he turned on his heel.
"Yes, Kristian?" his voice was thick with emotion.
They stood in silence staring at each other, feeling the current arching through 
the air between them. Touching them both in the same spot of their bodies yet 
different ports of their souls. Him waiting and hoping. Her paralyzed by his 
magnetism and frightened.
"I, uh, I well, I just wanted to know if you will be eating dinner with us?" she 
finished lamely.
She heard the most wonderful thing after that: his laughter. It sounded harsh 
and scratchy, as if it hadn't been used in a very long time. Unable to move she 
watched with glorious awe as he threw back his head and let go of his mirth. The 
shadow receded showing his lips and straight white teeth. Her gaze caressed the 
curves of his lips, tracing the masculine form and fullness. They were beautiful 
lips, wonderfully proportioned.
It rocked her to the core of her being to realize how much she wanted to taste 
him. To brush her lips across his for a brief moment. To touch her tongue to his 
and savor the flavor that belonged to him alone. The sudden realization shook 
her foundation of being. She had thought herself dead to ever feeling such a 
thing again. Yet this man continually rendered surprises from her.
The knowing smile that spread across his face, replacing the laugh, infuriated 
her. Irritation filled her, her hands bunched into tight fists at her sides but, 
with strict self- control, she relaxed them. Drawing herself up to her full 
height of five-foot-four she inhaled deeply to restore her composure.
Her only show of anger was the narrowing of her eyes as she informed him primly, 
"Because I think it is time for you to start eating with the other men of the 
ranch. After allmen belong with othermen ."
The smile on his face fell away instantly. Left in its place was a grim line of 
anger. "Sure thing," he ground out from between his tightly pressed lips. 
Tapping his hat with his forefinger, he crisply turned on his heel and walked 
around the house.
Kristian sank down on the cold dirt and rested her head on her palms. Now why 
had she done that? She asked herself.
"I've done the right thing." She told herself with extra firmness. "He should 
have been eating with them in the first place. You give them the slightest 
encouragement and --" Unable to finish, she quietly completed her harvesting.
She dried the dishes alone that night and missed his quiet presence. She ached 
for the slight touches of his hands as they passed dishes to each other. She 
longed for the breath that trailed over her eyelashes and brushed her lips as 
tender as any lover's kiss. She missed Dean and that made her furious.
The next day she knew Dean was making a conscious effort to stay out of sight. 
She didn't see him leaning against the barn door watching her as she worked in 
the garden. When she went out to check on the progress of the roof the following 
day, he mysteriously vanished.
A forlorn melancholy gripped Kristian as she set the table with only two plates. 
It seemed inadequate, as if something was missing. And it was. Kristian refused 
to admit it though, mentally shrugging, as if that would dispel the emotions 
twisting her stomach.
Her attention wavered when she heard Reggie scrambling down the stairs. Reggie 
cast a furtive glance into the kitchen at her mother. A happy smile graced her 
lips but it slowly died out as her gaze settled on the two plates.
Same as the previous nights, the little girl went to the front door. Wrenching 
it open, she stood framed in the dusky light of sunset, staring silently into 
the coming twilight.
Eventually, Reggie closed the door and turned her back to it. Without a word or 
a smile, she washed her hands for dinner and sat down at the table.
Kristian said nothing, but her heart splintered at the pain etched in Reggie's 
eyes. With a gentle touch, she brushed the stray hairs from Reggie's face, 
placing a kiss on the girl's head. After some time had passed with only the 
gentle clatter of their dinnerware filling the gap, Reggie asked the question 
that filled her mind.
"Mama, why doesn't Dean eat with us anymore?" She picked at her food with her 
fork.
Kristian had been expecting this but never the less didn't know what to say. She 
felt extreme guilt for her daughter's unhappiness. She knew this would have 
happened when Dean's wandering urge hit again. She'd known it a mistake from the 
beginning to allow this man such liberties with her child. It was done now 
though, and seeing Dean working and living on the ranch made it twice as hard 
for Reggie.
"Well, dumplin' sometimes, well --." How do you explain this to a five-year-old, 
she thought wryly. After some time had passed, Kristian smiled brightly and 
asked, "Reggie what did you and Puddles do today?"
Reggie's eyes twinkled and she smiled, "Oh Mama! Puddles did the funniest thing! 
We were in the front watching Cowboy as he..."
She listened to Reggie tell her story about her most treasured kitten. While the 
little girl talked, Kristian forced herself to eat some of the dinner she had 
fixed. Strangely it had lost its flavor. Nothing seemed as lively without Dean. 
Even Reggie's story lacked the embellishment she usually added.
Dean. This was all his fault. Before he had come along, they had...they 
had...She paused in her thoughts, trying to come up with some remark of the 
happiness before his arrival but found none.
A hollow feeling consumed her, chilling her. She needed him. She hated every 
ounce of truth in that realization.
CHAPTER 8
The next morning after breakfast, Kristian and Reggie bundled up for a morning 
outing. Their coats, which were paper-thin after several years of usage, did 
little to keep the chill out. Nevertheless, the two set out across the yard, 
hands linked, absorbing the beauty around them.
The hands still cooked their food over a campfire behind the barn. The brittle 
fall breeze picked up the smell of the smoke and carried it through the air. 
Leaves from the trees fell down around their heads as they walked. Several of 
them already covered the ground making a pleasant crunching sound as they 
walked. Kristian smiled affectionately as Reggie raised her foot high and 
slammed it down upon the dried and discolored leaves.
Searching Reggie's features closely, Kristian assessed that her coloring was 
better than it had been for a long while. The dark circles that used to 
accompany the little emerald-green eyes were not present today. It looked to 
Kristian that Reggie was fairing much better now that Buck and Broody were gone. 
Perhaps Reggie would overcome the set-back of her childhood after all.
Reaching the corrals Kristian instructed Reggie to wait there for her and 
climbed through the fence. She patted the muzzle of the tawny animal penned 
there. Maybe someday she would be able to afford a thoroughbred mare for her and 
Reggie. She buried her face in the fur of the horse's neck.
"What do you think, Nugget? Would you like a friend to keep you company in 
here?"
She was rudely aroused from her solitude by a deep warm masculine voice, "Is 
that old nag the best you have for horse flesh?"
She could feel her ire rising, but quelled it. "Yes. I haven't the income to 
just buy whatever I please. I have hands to pay, a child to feed and a business 
to run," she answered in as moderate a voice she could manage.
"Well," he said with disgust in his voice, "You can cross off half the hands. 
They were useless! I ran them off and told them they were lucky they didn't have 
to pay you back for the money they've been stealing."
Closing her eyes she took several deep breaths. Reminding herself that he had 
been her rescuer helped to calm her. He had had the best of intentions, she 
assured herself.
In an even tone she instructed him, "In the future I would appreciate it, Dean, 
if you would let me run my own ranch. You could have told me your plans. If you 
had let me know, I would have let them go myself." Well pleased with herself for 
controlling her temper she even gave him a small smile.
That smile turned into a tight line of irritation, however, when he snorted his 
disagreement. "I'll keep that in mind." Then dismissing her he turned and strode 
toward the barn.
She stood there in shock. Not sure if she should be insulted or not. He had said 
one thing yet she was sure he had meant the opposite. Grinding her teeth in 
vexation, she snapped her gaze toward her daughter.
"Reggie."
At her mother's sharp demand, her head sprang up. "Yes, Mama?" Reggie's voice 
was shaky and unsure.
Kristian chastised herself for talking like such to her daughter. It wasn't her 
fault that the man, Dean whatever, rubbed her the wrong way.
Crossing the distance between them, Kristian kneeled down holding onto the 
railing for support. Kristian's gaze swept over Reggie. "Darlin', how would you 
like to help me mop out the stalls?"
The little girl's nose scrunched up in distaste. "Yuck!"
Laughing, Kristian chucked her daughter's chin. "All right," she conceded. "How 
about you keep me company while I do it?"
Reggie vigorously nodded her head and scrambled through the fence to accompany 
her mother. Hand in hand they began a slow walk to the opposite side of the 
corral to enter the barn through a gate there.
"Mama?"
"Yes?"
"Do you like Dean?" Reggie asked innocently, unaware of her mother's heart 
pausing in it's beat.
"Yes. I suppose I do. He helped us when he didn't have to." Kristian's answer to 
her daughter caused her anger to drain away. She just wished he wasn't so bossy. 
She didn't want any man to tell her what to do --especially with her own ranch.
"I like him too. And I miss him," Reggie said agreeably.
Kristian felt a prickle of uneasiness wash over her. She would have to watch 
things more closely so her daughter didn't end up heart broken when Dean rode 
out.
"He isn't the kind of man that will stay around long, Reggie," Kristian warned 
softly.
By this time they had reached the barn's wide door to the corrals and Kristian 
opened it for them. Inside the barn was damp and musty. She stood and eyed her 
holdings grimly. So much work, so little money.
Reggie didn't comment on Kristian's last statement. Kristian only hoped the path 
she foresaw didn't happen. Reggie had always enjoyed exploring the barn looking 
for stray kittens. Once when they had been outside working she had stumbled upon 
a whole litter of newly born kittens. Reggie had been ecstatic and talked about 
them for the rest of the night. The next day when she had went to check on them, 
she had found that the mother cat had moved them. Never able to find that 
particular litter again had never deterred her from looking.
Reggie went off to explore the small barn and Kristian found the pitchfork and 
began tossing the soiled straw from the stalls.
"What are you doing?" growled an incensed voice.
Kristian jumped and laid her hand to her heart. It seemed he was developing a 
habit of sneaking up on her. Her fear brought forth the fury she had been 
holding in check.
"How dare you!" she snapped. "I will not put up with your sneaking up on me! And 
in case you can't tell, I am mucking out the stalls so that the horses will have 
at least dry straw tonight if not a warm barn."
"That is what you have hired help for! This isn't work for a woman to do!" He 
was equally annoyed, although she didn't understand why he should care.
"I can muck out any damn stall I feel like around here! It is my ranch! I think 
we've been over this before."
"Tell one of your hands to do it and then let them!" He wasn't backing down, in 
fact he took a step closer, bending down to come nose to nose with her.
"I can't!" Throwing her arms wide of her body she bellowed, "You ran them all 
off!" She slapped her hands down against her legs and glared at him. The 
exasperation she felt clearly expressed on her face, as she stood there ankle 
deep in horse manure and straw.
To her surprise a smile began to play on Dean's mouth. Before she knew it, he 
threw back his head and roared with laughter.
"I guess I did, huh?" Dean slapped his thigh in humor.
Stabbing the pitchfork into the soiled straw she pushed pasted the guffawing 
man.
"Regina Leann! Let's go."
Reggie appeared at her mother's side from behind a stack of hay. Taking a firm 
hold of the girl's hand, Kristian marched out of the barn with all the dignity 
she could muster.
Dean could hear her muttering under her breath and he grinned. Kristian's bound 
up anger had bubbled forth just now and he loved it. She was beginning to open 
to him, even if she didn't realize it.
He chuckled as he grabbed the pitchfork and began tossing out the stall. 
Whistling, he decided his decision had been right. Patience would pay off in the 
end. He would get her to trust him and then he would tell her who he really was.
First however, he had to get past this ridiculous problem of eating with the 
hands. Turning out of the stall, he stabbed the fork into the fresh straw. He 
leaned onto the handle as he mopped his brow with his sleeve.
He needed to be with her and Reggie, at least at mealtime. Then she could get to 
know him better. Besides, he missed hearing Reggie rattle on about the littlest 
of things. He missed the way Kristian's eyes widened whenever he "accidentally" 
brushed against her, or touched her fingers as they did dishes.
Just thinking of Kristian caused him to grow hard with need. Reaching down, he 
shifted himself to a more comfortable position inside his trousers.
"God," he mumbled, staring up at the rafters. "I need a woman." No, he shook his 
head.Not just any woman, I need Kristian.
With resignation, he began tossing the fresh straw into the stall. It would be 
such a long time before he could sink into her that he felt at times he would 
burst. Irritation lined his forehead as he sneezed repeatedly from the dust 
stirred up by his labors. Maybe he should go into town and see what the local 
saloon offered in the way of comfort. Yes, he resolved with a decisive nod, 
tonight he would head into town.
CHAPTER 9
The next morning as Kristian dished up hot cereal into bowls, there was a heavy 
knock on the door. Wiping her hand on the flour sack apron, she grabbed the 
rifle.
"Who is it?"
"Dean."
Instantly worried that something had happened on the ranch during the night, she 
set the gun aside.
She wrenched open the door and asked in a rush, "Yes? What happened?"
Without so much as a glance, Dean brushed past her walking straight to the 
table. He jerked back one of the chairs and sat down. He crossed his arms over 
his chest and pinched his lips tightly together. He kept his profile to Kristian 
and raised his chin in silent challenge.
Kristian stood at the open door gaping at the nerve of the man. Reggie however 
could not withhold her comments.
"Hi Dean! Look Mama! Dean is back!" she gushed forth, a huge smile of welcome 
splayed across her face.
Dean gritted his teeth, determined to stay. No matter what she said, he would be 
taking his meals with them from here on. To his surprised she didn't say 
anything, no arguments, no soft demands. He heard the sound of the door shut and 
chanced a glance over at her.
She walked stiffly past him, muttering under her breath. Turning to cast him a 
glare over her shoulder, she pulled a bowl from the cabinet and slammed it down 
onto the counter. Without ceremony, she plopped a spoonful of food into the 
abused dish.
She made it plain enough that she didn't want him here, yet he couldn't stay 
away any longer. His pride be damned! She had all but ruined him as it was 
already. Just the mere thought of her destroyed all chances of him finding 
happiness with any other woman. Last night he had lain on a lumpy bedforcing 
himself to receive the attentions of the whore, Clover O'Malley.
With an imperceptible shake of his head, he remembered being poised just above 
Clover's painted face. With a huge bust and small waistline, Clover had aroused 
him enough to accomplish his mission. His thoughts filled with Kristian though 
and he could not convince himself to plunge into Clover's depths to perform the 
act he so desperately needed.
He wanted Kristian beneath him. He wanted to feel her surrounding him in the 
primitive form of man and woman. It was her nails he wished to feel clawing down 
his back. Her sighs and encouraging murmurs in his ears.
With a wry grin at Kristian's back, he recalled Clover's outburst when he had 
turned away, yanking on his pants and letting go a stream of curses.
Sitting up on her elbows, unconscious of her nakedness, Clover eyed him. "What's 
the problem, cowboy? Are we gonna conduct business or not?" she demanded 
irritably.
"Not." He jerked on his boots with a swift thrust.
"Who the hell do you think you are? I don't take many men anymore you know! I'm 
the madam and pick my own partners!" Indignantly she stood before him, hands on 
her fleshy hips.
Hoping to mollify her, he had cupped her plump breast, stroking the nipple 
lightly with his thumb.
"I'm flattered that you picked me darlin'." Leaning down he kissed the bud with 
the tiniest of touches but pulled back quickly. He whispered, "You keep the 
money and consider your job done."
She grabbed her lacey wrapper and carelessly pulled it on.
"I would have much preferredfinishing my job." She pressed her body to his and 
rubbed her finger across his bottom lip. "I think you're the kind of man that 
would be worth doing for free." A veil dropped over her features and she dropped 
her hand.
Sighing with resignation, she added, "Whoever she is, I hope she's worth it."
Kristian slammed a bowl of hot oats down in front of him pulling him from his 
reverie. She stayed above him for a moment, scowling. He tugged on the brim of 
his hat to reaffirm she couldn't see his face nor his mirth.
He knew he had made the right choice. Kristian was well worth that and much 
more.
CHAPTER 10
Walking with her head down, gnawing on her lower lip deep in thought, she missed 
seeing the men until they were upon her. Silently, Reggie tugged on her hand 
while digging in her heels. Kristian frowned, glancing down at Reggie to 
question her. Reggie's face contorted in fear changed the irritation into 
full-blown alarm.
Desperate to ease her daughter's fears, she followed her line of vision. The 
moment she did so she understood the terror she'd read in the emerald eyes.
***
Sweat dripped over his ebony brows, just as his plaid shirt stuck to his chest. 
Sinewy muscles rippled in his back as he lifted the ax and swung once more. His 
forearms corded with the effort to pull the tightly wedged blade out of the 
tree's trunk.
"What the hell am I doing here?" he wondered silently.
As the axe blade whistled through the air landing with a solid thunk into the 
tree trunk again, he knew the answer.
Kristian.
Wherever she was, he would be, too. The knowledge that he would follow her to 
the ends of the earth despite her betrayal never failed to infuriate him.
Muscles rippling, he punished the tree for all his frustrations. Why couldn't 
she have stayed in Virginia, waiting patiently for his return?
"Boss! We've got trouble!" Terrell bellowed over the loud whack of the ax biting 
into the tree.
Dean pulled the blade from where it was embedded with no effort playing across 
his face. "What the hell are you talking about, Terrell?" Unerringly, Dean swung 
the ax back into the same spot as before, displacing a large chunk of wood.
"Outlaws! I saw them, right there in the yard of the ranch!"
In mid-stroke the axe fell to the ground. Without a word Dean sprinted back to 
the ranch, the hands falling in behind him.
***
Four rough-looking men sat upon their horses gazing down at Kristian. On their 
faces was the look of cocky self-assurance that comes from bullying others. The 
hollow expressions in their eyes said they weren't afraid to die, or kill. There 
was no doubt in her mind that these men were outlaws.
She instantly thought of Dean. Where was he?
The outlaw in front of the other three wore filthy clothes that she knew hadn't 
ever seen water or soap. His long brown hair was stringy and matted together and 
muted by an overall coat of trail dust. He had a mustache that curled around his 
mouth and a beard that looked like a rat had nested inside. Even from this 
distance she could see remnants of his last meal in it. His bottom lip curled 
down in admiration of the female flesh in front of him. His gaze boldly drank up 
her curves, leaving her to feel violated
Leaning over the pommel of his saddle, he spit a long stream of tobacco juice on 
the ground. "Well, well," he drawled. "What have we got ourselves here?"
Kristian took a step back and pulled Reggie behind her.
The man to his left snorted a laugh. "Looks to me like we found ourselves a new 
woman!"
This particular man reminded Kristian of an overgrown boy, overly excited with 
lust. He looked ready to pounce onto her rather like a dog in heat on a fence 
post. His eyes had an odd roundness to them and his face looked distinctly 
different from any she'd seen before.
Pushing Reggie closer behind her, she called out, "This is the Lazy R ranch. I'm 
the owner and would appreciate you getting off my land." She raised her chin and 
stood her ground. Reggie enfolded herself into the back of Kristian's skirt. She 
could hear the little girl starting to whimper.
"Well little lady, we are going to be staying for a while. In fact, we been 
thinking about getting ourselves a little ranch all our own!" the first man said 
with an inspired grin.
"You didn't say nothing 'bout settling down to me, Rowdy! Why don't you ever 
tell --" the second one whined.
The one called Rowdy interrupted, "Shut up, you fool! I just now decided!" He 
was speaking in a loud whisper, as if Kristian wouldn't be able to hear him.
Again the idiotic smile placed itself onto the second man's face, "Oh!" He 
laughed. "In that case. She'll be part of the place, won't she? Can I have her 
first? Huh? Can I? I'm tired of always getting them last."
This time the one behind Rowdy spoke up, "For God's sake! Rowdy shut your 
brother up, or I will. I can't stand his blabbering! 'Sides, he'll scare her!" 
The one talking had dark bushy hair covering his head and face, some even poked 
out of his shirt.
The one in the very back added, "Yea! They aren't any fun once they get scared. 
I like it when they fight and all, but when they just scream you always kill 
'em, and then we don't get to finish." This outlaw didn't seem particularly 
smarter than that of Rowdy's brother. He wore a poncho and a sombrero, the chin 
cord dangling around his neck. Caked mud splotched his dark skin.
During this discussion, Kristian had been slowly taking tiny steps backwards. It 
had been foolhardy, she now knew, to go out without her gun. She had assumed 
that the hands would be out working on the corrals. After thoroughly scanning 
the perimeter it was obvious that they were either gone or had decided to let 
her ride this one out alone.
What had she expected, she questioned herself, since when had any man been there 
for her? No, she would have to get out of this alone, or else die trying. She 
cursed Dean's name repeatedly, and then added her own name in there for trusting 
him.
She was but about ten yards from the front door, when the outlaw's attentions 
turned back to her.
"Where you think you're going, little lady?" the dark one in the back asked as 
he slid to the ground. He approached her, somewhat like a mountain lion stalking 
its prey.
"It's been decided, I get you first. And Alan there gets your little one first," 
he informed her callously, waving his hand indicating the overgrown boy.
"My...My husband will be home shortly. You'd better get or else there is no 
telling what he will do. Him and...and his four brothers." Kristian attempted to 
look brave, standing tall with her shoulders back, chin at a high angle. Her 
knees were knocking and she was amazed her voice even sounded recognizable.
With an indulgent smile, the outlaw shook his head back and forth. "No. We 
happen to know that you are all alone way out here."
Shaking her head in denial and rising hysteria, Kristian grabbed Reggie up and 
made a run for the door of the house. Just as she touched the wood of the door, 
a fierce hand bit into her shoulder and spun her around.
His eyes were black and cold. A chill of apprehension went down her back. He 
smiled at her but the humor didn't reach his gaze.
"Like what you see?" he asked, narrowing his ebony eyes. "Don't you worry none, 
I know how to treat a woman." He clamped his arm around her waist and pulled her 
up against him. Crushing his lips against hers, he managed to wiggle his tongue 
through the barrier her teeth presented.
Kristian didn't think, only reacted, biting down on his tongue until she tasted 
blood. He made a mewling sound and fought to be released, but Kristian continued 
to bite him. His hands pinched her jaws, forcing her mouth open.
As soon as he was released, he stumbled away, spitting out a mouth full of 
blood. The other men dismounted from their horses laughing boisterously at their 
friend.
"What's wrong, Dex? Lost your touch with women?" Rowdy dared to ask.
"Don't worry old friend she will learn not to mess with me." At his words he 
pursed his lips and raised his hand to hit her. Reflexively she turned her head 
away to avoid the oncoming attack.
In the next second everything exploded. A shot rang out. Turning her head in 
confusion, she saw the outlaw standing there staring sightlessly at her. A 
clean, perfectly round, hole in the middle of his head. A trickle of blood 
slipped down his pasty skin. Slowly his body tilted back, falling to land with a 
muffled thud. In shock, she stared at the lifeless body in front of her, unaware 
of the gunfire pouring down around her.
Her thoughts began to congeal again and she remembered her daughter. She 
couldn't feel her pressing against her legs any longer. Turning completely 
around, she scanned the immediate area but Reggie wasn't there. Panic seized 
her. Her heart surged to her throat.
Frantically she turned in circles, desperate for the sight of the girl. Shots 
rang out, piercing the engulfing darkness inside her. She could hear someone in 
the distance, screaming her name. Demanding something from her. She shut it out. 
Her whole focused on finding Reggie. Terrible pain exploded, radiating from the 
side of her head.
Her legs gave out and she fell to the ground with a painful jar to her knees. 
She tried to focus on the events unfolding in front of her. Shots seemed to be 
going off everywhere and looking towards the house she could see Dean. He was 
looking at her, moving towards her. His mouth moved and she knew his words were 
for her. She attempted to concentrate on his mouth, to decipher the movements of 
his lips, but they appeared fuzzy.
Reggie, where was she? Reggie!
She felt herself pitch forward but was unable to brace herself from the impact. 
The darkness surrounded her, drowning out every thought, closing off her vision 
and hearing and she could do nothing to stop it.
***
Dean watched her, knowing there wasn't a damn thing he could do for her at the 
moment. The blood flowed down her face and neck. The look of hysteria in her 
eyes scared him.
He felt half-crazy with anxiety. She couldn't die! After all he had gone through 
to find her. He needed her, damn her! She couldn't leave him twice; he wouldn't 
let her!
Coming out from behind the front door of the house, he wielded his gun as only 
an experienced gunslinger could. He fired shots left and right, hitting their 
mark without any apparent effort. Only moments later his shots were the only 
ones echoing off the blue mountains.
He holstered his .45's, rushing to Kristian's crumbled body. Blood pooled around 
her, causing his heart to stutter.
"Kristian, open your eyes!" he demanded, lightly slapping her pale cheeks.
Her dense eyelashes fluttered and she moaned. Relief coursed through him. She 
was alive. For now.
He smoothed her crimson stained hair away from her face and cooed to her, 
"Everything is going to be alright, Kay. I promise. You're going to be alright 
now." His eyes were bright with unshed tears. "You have to be tough and fight 
for me. For us."
Her eyes opened and met his gaze. They seemed to be muted, the emerald green 
color dull and lacking. When tears started to pour over the brim she pressed 
them tightly shut. When she opened them again he felt as if her unfixed pupils 
were actually seeing through to his soul. He hoped she couldn't. Not yet. He 
wasn't ready.
Kristian stared into the eyes above her and reasoned that for whatever reason 
she must be hallucinating. She couldn't possibly be seeing what was in front of 
her.
Robbie, her long lost beloved. The Lord knew she had wished him present every 
day for the last six years but to see him was almost more than she could take.
Finally seeing her cherished man so near, to feel his warmth, to sense his 
energy was enough to push her over the narrow edge she had teetered on. Using 
every ounce of willpower left in her depleted body, she raised her hand to his 
cheek. She needed to feel him, touch him.
"Robbie? Robbie is it really you?" she queried. "I've missed you so -- so much." 
She choked on a sob, and her crying increased ten-fold. "It can't be you, Robbie 
-- you're dead!"
"I know, love, I know. But I'm here and I'm going to take care of you. So you 
have to get better."
She had no more energy left so she merely sighed a weak yes and allowed the 
darkness to reclaim her.
CHAPTER 11
Pacing outside the door of the main bedroom, Dean swore. The doctor Cowboy had 
brought back from town had been inside the room with Kristian long enough. He 
needed to know everything was all right.
Finally, he instructed Cowboy to stand guard outside the door and left to make 
arrangements for Reggie. He went to the church first to inquire. The preacher 
there offered his own home.
The frightened child clung to him. His heart torn in two at the fear in her 
eyes, but more so for the trust he saw there. Trust to take care of her mother. 
He had been in awe over Reggie's acceptance from the very beginning but to read 
how much she depended on him was humbling.
He knelt down and hugged her close. "I'll be back soon and Cowboy or I will be 
here a couple of time every day to see you."
Looking up at him with big tearful green eyes so like Kristian's, she asked, 
"Will my Mama be alright?"
He swallowed the lump in his throat and contemplated his response. What was he 
to say? He couldn't give her false promises. In the end he simply said, "I hope 
so Reggie. I'll do my best, I give you my word."
She nodded her head in surprised understanding for her age. She was just a child 
but she had seen many men, both good and bad. Although Dean always wore his hat 
low on his face, she had seen what no one else had. She hadn't been afraid; she 
accepted him with the childlike innocence that others wouldn't have.
"I trust you Dean. You'll take care of my Ma. Tell her...tell her I love her." A 
sob of grief escaped the little girl then, followed by a long stream of tears.
He pulled her into his arms and gave her a soft kiss on her head. "Sure sugar. 
I'll be back with news as soon as I can." He felt her nod and with one last 
squeeze, let her go. Standing up, he tapped his hat in thanks to the preacher's 
wife for watching Reggie and without another word mounted his horse.
His horse's sides were heaving with every breath and covered in lather when he 
came to a jolting stop in front of the homestead. The town doctor was waiting 
for him.
Dismounting, he threw the reins at Cowboy and extending his hand to the tall man 
in front of the house.
"Name's Dean Willis."
The man took Dean's hand. "Dr. Redcliff. It's just a matter of time before she 
wakes up. It's only a graze. As long as infection doesn't set in --" he cleared 
his throat. "Then she should, well, I think she'll be fine," Dr. Redcliff choked 
out.
Dean took in the tiny purple and red blood vessels dotting his nose. The man's 
fingernails were encrusted with dirt and his personal hygiene lacked enthusiasm.
Dean narrowed his eyes.
"Are there any other doctors in these parts?" he asked bluntly, disregarding the 
man's pride.
Dr. Redcliff's nostrils flared in fury. "Look, I don't know who you think you 
are but -- "
The man's impending speech was abruptly cut short when Dean stepped menacingly 
close. "I won't have an incompetent putting her in danger! Got me?" Dean's voice 
was a fierce growl, deriving from deep within his chest. His fists were clenched 
in anger and self-control. "Now, damn it, are there any other doctors out here?"
"No," the doctor humbly replied. The medical bag he held shifted between his 
hands. His dull blue eyes stared at the beaten handle as if it held some great 
secret to life.
To Dean's dismay, he felt a pang of guilt over bullying the man that was so 
obviously down on his luck. If it had been anyone but Kristian in there, he 
wouldn't have been nearly as severe. He had always felt sorry for men like this 
doctor that had a weakness in their soul, but now Dean also saw clearly that he, 
too, had a weakness. Kristian.
With hidden remorse, he gruffly over paid the doctor, knowing he would most 
likely spend it on booze, and sent him on his way. Instructing Cowboy about 
chores that needed to be done for the next few days, he sent the old timer on 
his way, too.
***
He fingered her soft hair, rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb. Even 
with his thick calluses he could feel the silkiness. Earlier, he had 
painstakingly washed the dried blood from her body and the long strands of silk.
He replaced the bandage the doctor had placed on her with a smaller one, held on 
with long strips tied securely. He hoped it would be less conspicuous for her.
He allowed the hair to sift through his fingers and followed his gaze to her 
face. He traced the high cheekbones with delicate swirls, observing the long 
ebony eyelashes and heart-shaped lips.
If any imperfection to her existed he had not found it. Sitting there for the 
last day and a half watching her closely for any signs of awareness, he surely 
would have.
Her body was enough to make him shake with need. Having a baby had caused her to 
ripen with luscious curves. His hand itched to curve around her breast and 
direct the nipple to his mouth so he could devour it. Basic urgency from his 
manhood whenever he so much as thought of her, made him want to grasp her hips 
and sink into her firm sheath.
He would not, however, until she asked him; no, until she begged him. He had 
seen what that bastard, Broody, had intended to do. She had to be traumatized 
from that, not to mention whatever else she had been through for the last six 
years.
"It can't be you, Robbie, you're dead!"
Her words flashed through his mind. What had she meant? Hope coursed through 
him. Could it be that simple? Whatever it meant he knew now that the past didn't 
matter. He would still have his answers, but nothing she could do would stop him 
from loving her. He was ready to face the truth now. He'd followed her all these 
years, not for some vendetta, but because he loved her.
He had yearned for her, both body and soul. She was the only woman to ever fill 
his heart with the indescribable emotions of love. So many nights he had lain in 
his bed and cried within his heart for her. For months, after losing her, he had 
tried to drink her out of his being, but she'd wedge herself in and there was no 
going back.
Not then or now.
Six years ago he had lost everything. Now nothing would stand in his way of 
getting it back.
Leaning his head against the wall behind him he recalled that fateful day when 
he had made it back from the war.
Walking up the gravel driveway of his parents Virginia home, anticipation put an 
extra jump in his step. He had climbed through the fires of hell in the past six 
months to make it to this moment.
His body displayed scars that previously hadn't existed. His memory contained 
experiences no man should suffer. His soul forever altered. He wasn't even 
certain his family would recognize him. At least he'd made it home alive, a lot 
didn't even have that.
As soon as he turned the last curve in the drive emerging from around the old 
oak, he knew life would never be as he had left it, only months before. It had 
been a little over six months since he had last been home. Unable to be away any 
longer from his fiancé he had quietly slipped away from his regiment. Three days 
he had been away from the fighting, two in traveling and one at home. The memory 
of that day had given him the drive to fight death.
But now as he ran toward the smoldering ruins of his southern home he growled a 
primitive, "No!"
He stopped short of the house and stared at the few red embers still glowing. 
After the shock of his arrival had time to wear away, he began searching for his 
family. It hadn't been long before he found them. The bodies of his mother and 
two little sisters lay on the ground behind their scorched home. Their eyes 
stared sightlessly into the sky, the horror of death splayed across their 
features. The dry earth soaked up their blood, dyeing the soil rich sanguine. He 
closed his eyes to their nakedness, ignoring the bound hands and mouths gagged 
with filthy handkerchiefs.
Only ten feet away lay the crumpled body of his father. His hand wrapped tightly 
around a pistol. A grim red line ran from ear to ear.
He ran frantically between the four, hysterics reigning. Finally, he fell to his 
knees and with an inhuman growl he cried until his voice was lost.
With dry eyes, he found a blackened shovel and dug the four graves.
Early the next morning as the new day dawned, he wearily set his shovel aside 
and lay down upon his father's freshly turned grave and slept. When he awoke he 
felt a rush of hope soar threw his mournful soul.
In his sorrow and shock he had forgotten about his fiancé. He jumped quickly to 
his feet to find his horse and ride hard to her parent's modest home.
As soon as the hallowed out dwelling came into his view he knew what he would 
find. Sliding to the ground off his horse, he stumbled forward. The windows were 
busted, doors were missing and the flowerbeds her mother had proudly displayed, 
overrun by weeds.
Presently, he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, desperately needing 
to wipe the images of his family away. Casting a glance toward Kristian, he left 
the room and went in search of a drink. He rummaged through the cupboards in the 
kitchen and found a bottle. His hands shaking, he discarded the lid and put it 
to his lips. He gulped down the fire liquid with eagerness and desperation.
He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, letting out a lusty sigh 
before he recapped the bottle. Feeling fortified, he slapped it back into the 
shelf and marched up the stairs.
No, he decided, the past was best left in the past.
***
Her eyelids fluttered slightly. Her breathing altered just the smallest 
fraction.
He scooted to the edge of the chair, watching with rapt attention. 
Unconsciously, he held his breath. Would she remember recognizing him? Or would 
she only see what he looked like now? Would she look deeper? He wanted so much 
for her to know who he was and at the same time he prayed she didn't.
God, he didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes. As she stared at him 
in the darkness, he waited for the recognition, and horror.
***
A single candle flickered in the ink black room, leaving shadows to stretch 
their fingers. Her eyes were drawn toward Dean as if by a magnet. He sat next to 
the bed leaning toward her. For once he wasn't wearing that infernal hat, but 
lack of light left him to be almost entirely engulfed in shadows.
Damn, I still can't see him. Her mouth slanted in irritation.
She could feel Dean's intense gaze on her and sensed he was waiting for 
something, but what? And why was he in her bedroom? Biting her lower lip, she 
wracked her mind for an explanation but none would present themselves.
Finally, she asked, "What has happened Dean?"
With her words a shattering ache consumed his heart.
She didn't remember.
He should have been prepared for it, but the pain was witness to his neglect. 
Swallowing his sorrow, he replied as evenly as possible, "You've been hurt. 
Don't you -- don't you rememberanything. "
"No, I --" She sat bolt upright only to grab at her head with dizziness.
"Lay down." He gently, but insistently, pushed at her shoulders, easing her back 
against the mattress. "You won't do any good to anyone right now. You were 
grazed by a bullet."
Panic filled her eyes, like a trapped animal. She pushed at his hands, "Reggie! 
I have to find Reggie! I turned to get her and she was gone. She hides sometimes 
when she is scared --" Suddenly she stopped as inspiration struck. Then she 
pointed a finger at Dean. "You found her last time! You have to find her! You 
can --"
He covered her mouth to halt the flow of words.
"Reggie is just fine," he assured her. At her quizzical expression, he 
continued, "I grabbed her when the gunfire started and pulled her into the 
house. You would have been fine, too,if you would have listened to me and got 
inside," he scolded, but it lost its effect when he rubbed his thumb across her 
cheek.
The relaxing of her muscles was obvious to him and he removed his hand from her 
luscious lips, although with reluctance.
Before his hand was completely out of the way she asked, "Where is she? She must 
be awfully scared."
"She is, but I'll get word to her that you are safe and awake again."
Her brow furrowed and she asked sharply, "What do you mean, get word to her?"
Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. Her spunk was unbeatable. She lay 
here, in pain, but still as fierce over her daughter as a mother bear over her 
cub.
"Well I arranged for the Lowell woman in town to take care of her. It may be a 
few days before you can be back on your feet doing your daily things." Actually 
he thought it would be more like a week, at least. He kept that opinion to 
himself.
She chewed on her lower lip and finally asked, "Do you know the Lowell's? I 
haven't met very many of the people in town. I won't have her staying someplace 
where she isn't treated right."
He knew just looking at her that if he said the wrong thing she would be up and 
getting dressed the minute he was out the door. The grit this woman had was 
unbelievable and infuriating.
"Yes I do believe she's fine. She's the preacher's wife in town. She seemed like 
a very nice woman."
"I have met the woman's husband, kind of. I guess I don't have much of a choice, 
do I?" she said irritably.
For a long moment he just sat there with her and remained quiet, but not once 
did his eyes leave her. He sensed that she needed some time to accept all that 
had happened.
Finally she heaved a huge sigh and looked over at him, an ironic smile playing 
on her lips. "I can't believe you had to rescue me,again ."
She stressed the last word with audible unsettlement, her smile not fooling him. 
He knew she didn't want to feel obligated.
"You do have a way of walking into trouble, don't you?" Dean stated wryly. "I 
couldn't believe it when I saw you out there in front of those men." Chuckling 
mildly, he rubbed his chin where his beard from the past few days had grown 
soft.
The simple action struck a cord in her memory, but one so barred that it wasn't 
recognizable to her. Brushing aside the nuisance, she stepped forth on the 
current matter.
"I'm sorry for having put you out -- again."
He didn't answer, but merely shrugged his shoulders.
The candlelight flickered, displaying the sweet dimple in his chin, and she 
wanted nothing more than to run her finger across it. She could feel the heat 
radiating from his nearness, even at the distance they sat. Gazing over at the 
solemn, dark figure he made, she was struck with a need to be wrapped up in his 
warm arms. To feel safe for even a short amount of time.
What it would feel like to actually trust another man and know with unfailing 
certainty that he deserved her dependency. Dependency? What was she thinking, 
she yelled silently at herself. She needed no man! The ranch needed to be ran 
and she had a daughter to raise. No where in that plan did Dean fit in.
Annoyed for thinking such absurd things, she turned her face away from him. She 
would not trust him with her and Reggie's lives. It could back fire and leave 
her in the same situation as before.
"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his hand covering hers. "You haven't heard 
anything I've told you."
Once again she met his gaze and the concern and tenderness she found in them 
moved her, deeply. The panic from moments before dissolved at his soft words and 
gentle touch.
She still felt an almost desperate need to defend herself against him though. 
She needed him to leave, to give her time to think. Put it all into perspective.
"Yes. I'm just tired," she answered lamely. She needed to be alone!
He sensed the withdrawal from her and wasn't sure what had caused it. He stood 
with uncharacteristic awkwardness.
"Of course! I'm sorry. I'll get out of here and let you get some rest." He bent 
to retrieve his hat and blow out the candle.
In the slight second before the light went out his face was illuminated. What 
she saw made her gasp in shock. She now understood his preference of shadows. In 
the faint flickering light, his face appeared to be lined with scars.
Shaking her head, she rationalized it. Surely, she had been mistaken, only a 
play of the flame. She'd seen glimpses of him before and hadn't noticed scars. 
Even as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew she had seen the harsh 
reality of Dean's pain.
The door opening spilled faint light across her bed, Dean paused on the 
threshold.
"Do you need to make a trip to the, uh, well, out back? I'll help you before you 
fall back asleep." He turned his hat in his hands staring at the wall in front 
of him.
That familiar cord he seemed to strike bothered her again. She had long ago 
forgotten whatever the memory was, stuffing it into an unused portion of her 
mind. The endearing habit of fiddling with his hat returned it although she knew 
not of whom he reminded her. Tears glistened in her eyes and her breath came out 
in a sob.
The familiarity he seemed to fill brought healing to her troubled spirit. She 
still needed time alone but she knew she could rely on him enough to walk her to 
the outhouse.
"Yes," she said over brightly to cover her embarrassment at the requirement.
Attempting to sit up in bed, she was almost laid out flat by the swift pain 
pounding in her head. "Lord above! Is someone knocking on my head with an axe?" 
she demanded. Moving to cradle her forehead, a bolt of pain ran through her as 
she brushed over the bulky bandage.
"No, a bullet grazed you." Her questioning and somewhat cranky look prodded him 
on. "Basically you were shot without the hole or the blood loss. Which if you 
look at it that way isn't so terrible. The amount of blood you did loose is 
causing the dizziness and headache. It will pass." He offered these insights as 
he pulled the covers back and stood her in one liquid moment. "Actually you're 
pretty damn lucky."
Instantly, she forgot her pounding headache and throbbing arm. Following the 
trail left by the cool touch of air on her body, she looked down, hoping against 
hope that she was mistaken.
To her horror, she was right. Not one stitch of clothing covered her body. Shock 
mingled in her befuddled mind momentarily. His silver eyes turned cloudy, 
softening to almost a deep blue. He focused on her lips and then, almost as if 
against his will, perused her body, leaving a hot trail of passion in their 
wake.
She had been forced to lay with Buck, raped repeatedly by Broody, and, once, 
willingly given herself for love; but never had she stood for a man to eye her. 
She felt as if her entire soul was bare for the viewing.
Panic bubbled up the back of her throat. She was thrust from the deep trance he 
had cast on her, becoming aware of her nakedness again. Balancing against his 
shoulder, she groped for the discarded quilt.
Blessedly, Dean held her with one arm around her bare waist and reached for her 
wrapper. His hand felt like a branding iron against her skin and his short 
breaths falling across her bare breasts branded her as his.
Dean grimaced. He had had honorable intentions offering her his assistance. 
Unfortunately he had forgotten her state of undress. Early on his only concern 
had been to nurture her back to health, now however, he could not take his eyes 
from her splendid body.
Although he had cleaned her body twice already, he hadn't seen her through 
sexual awareness. Both times he had been caring for her, it had been an act of 
compassion. Not intimacy. But now, seeing her, feeling her against him, he knew 
she was everything he remembered, and more.
Her breasts were still high and firm, despite the nourishment they had provided 
for Reggie. In fact, they were fuller than the last time he'd bared them for his 
view. The rosy nipples stood erect in protest of the cold air caressing them.
Her waist was slim flaring to womanly hips and long luscious legs. The curtain 
of silky chestnut hair, hung down her back brushing the top of her firm 
buttocks.
Longing spread through him, igniting the fire that laid within. His pants became 
painfully tight, as he grew hard with desire for her. His breaths sounded harsh 
while the blood pounded at his temples causing him to feel dizzy. Forcing 
himself to inhale deeply, he managed to control the primal instinct.
Sounding like a razor blade had imbedded itself into his throat, he croaked, "I 
tried to find a chemise and drawers for you, but...there was none."
Numb with shock and an odd welling of emotions radiating from the center of her 
body, she could only nod.
Cautious of her injury, he covered her with the wrapper. Keeping his arm firmly 
around her waist, he nodded his head with satisfaction.
"Well, let's get this done," he suggested gruffly.
Her face and throat burned with embarrassment, but she managed a squeaky, "All 
right."
CHAPTER 12
The next few days blended together. Kristian slept in heavy slumber, unable to 
rouse fully at times. Dean paid careful attention to her, taking particular note 
of her ever- changing disposition. He forced her to eat, even when she 
stubbornly declined.
Kristian felt insane with irritation. "I need to get out of this bed, Dean!" she 
insisted, taking a bite of the rabbit stew he'd made. "I'm not used to idleness. 
I need something to do!"
"Soon," he promised. "I have a surprise for you tonight." His swift change of 
subject caught Kristian by surprise.
She smiled with pleasure. "You do? What is it?"
With a little chuckle he pulled a book from his pocket.
"You're sure a greedy one."
"Let me see!" Excited, she reached for the gift.
"Ah, ah! Not so fast!" He dangled the book just out of reach. "I thought I would 
read to you for a while."
She studied his hooded face for a moment before responding, "On one condition."
"One condition? I don't believe you're in any position to strike a deal, 
Kristian," he responded, with a laugh of delight.
"One condition or else tomorrow I get out of this bed for good!" Sticking her 
chin out stubbornly, she crossed her arms and met his gaze.
He studied her for a moment and knew that she would do just what she promised. 
"All right," he conceded. "What do you want?"
Boldly she answered, "You must take off your hat."
"No."
His cold, blunt answer stopped her momentarily. Obviously, as far as he was 
concerned, the subject was closed. She stared at him in surprise for a moment 
and then, taking a fortifying deep breath, she forged ahead.
"Dean, it's all right. You can't keep wearing that thing."
Narrowing his eyes at her, he remained silent.
Heat colored her face. "Well, what I meant was...The other night when you blew 
out the candle, I saw...Well, I saw what you try to hide and I've noticed it a 
few other times. You don't have to hide it with me anymore."
"Why is that,Kristian ?" he spat. "Are you so inexperienced with the horrors of 
war that you want to stare at me every day?"
He couldn't have hurt her more with a slap. Somehow, without intending to, she'd 
insulted him.
"All...AllI meant was that you can just be you." As his words seared through her 
brain a fury began to build. "And who are you to treat me like that?No ! I 
haven't been to war, but I've lost to war! So you just go feel sorry for 
yourself somewhere else,Dean , I've got enough of my own to handle!" Shoving the 
plate at him, she turned over, giving him her back.
The tension following her words was palpable.
"Ah, shit," he grumbled, his deep voice filling the silent room. "I'm sorry."
She didn't reply but he heard her sniffle.
"I..." his words were raw, broken. "Most people don't know how to handle seeing 
a face like mine. It isn't exactly pleasant to look at." Slowly he pulled his 
hat off and looked down at it in his hands. "After the war, I lost-- 
everything."
He looked at her back a while longer not knowing what to say. She would surely 
be repulsed once she saw him. Softly clearing his throat he opened the book he'd 
brought her. Selecting a poem, he began to read aloud.
After several verses, Kristian rolled over to watch him. Dean stopped in mid- 
sentence, raising his eyes to her. An unnamable connection lit between them and 
a long stretch of time elapsed before she could bring herself to look away from 
his feral silver eyes. Traveling across his deformed features, she was careful 
to keep all emotion from showing. He wouldn't respond to sympathy any better 
than disgust and she knew it.
Scars crisscrossed on his angular face, focusing around his eyes, nose and 
forehead. Only a few of his black eyelashes remained, serving as a grim reminder 
of what had been. His nose, long and slim, leaned toward the left, the nostrils 
uneven in size. The skin pulled taut over the high cheekbones, testifying to the 
agony he had lived through.
Her gaze returned to his and what she saw burning in their silver depths caused 
her to gasp. Fear and trepidation at her possible rejection haunted there. An 
overwhelming feeling of tenderness rose from her heart.
She slid her gaze down to his lips. They were perfect; untouched by the same 
dreadful calamity that had befallen the rest of his face. The soft, pink, moist 
flesh enchanted her. She felt herself leaning toward Dean but was unable, 
unwilling, to pull back. He, too, appeared to be drawing forward. It seemed only 
natural when their lips met.
The touch of his mouth on hers was gentle yet reverberated to the soles of her 
feet. She jerked away quickly, her face contorted in fear. Her face drained of 
its color and her eyes widened in alarm.
What would he expect from her now?
Seeing her reaction, he raised his hand to touch her cheek. When she flinched at 
the advancement, he dropped it back to his side. With a deep sigh he plunged his 
splayed fingers through his tousled hair. He'd expected her disgust, her 
withdrawal, but when he'd seen the opposite he had moved without thinking.
"I would never hurt you, Kristian.Never, " he vowed.
Picking up his hat from the floor where it had fallen, he stood. With hesitant 
steps he walked away from her. At the door he cast one last glance over his 
shoulder and reluctantly stepped over the threshold.
"Goodnight, Kristian," he whispered. His words covered the distance to the bed, 
surrounding her like a caress.
"Goodnight --Dean ." The door shut before she finished.
Staring at the door, as if he would reappear, she ran her fingertips over her 
tingling lips. Feelings she didn't quite understand swarmed her mind, confusing 
her. She sagged against the pillows, relieved that Dean had not forced himself 
on her, yet mildly frustrated that he had left.
CHAPTER 13
"This is Lupe. She'll be taking care of you from now on," he stated.
His stance and proprietary hand on Lupe's arm, told Kristian that he expected 
her to accept his proclamation. She offered a small smile and nod of her head to 
the woman, and then narrowed her eyes at Dean.
"I would like to speak to you privately. Now."
"Very well, Lupe will you excuse us please."
"Si, Senor. Gracias Senora." The grateful woman existed from the room closing 
the door behind her.
"I don't have the money to pay that woman!" she hissed, Lupe's footsteps fading 
down the hall.
"No problem. I'll pay her." He tugged on his hat brim and crossed his arms. The 
shadow was not low enough to hide his clenched jaw line.
"No," she gritted out with pained patience. "That wouldn't be right."
"Fine," he answered, his voice strained. "You can use my pay, I don't need it 
anyway."
"You don't need..." Her mouth hung agape in amazement. "Well, if you're that big 
of a fool, why not. I would like to spend more time outside anyway. But I wonder 
--" Biting her lower lip, she clasped her hands together.
His patience diminishing, Dean snapped, "What?" He chose to ignore the comment 
about his intelligence.
When she continued her voice sounded unsteady, "Well, I would like for Reggie to 
come home."
His rigid posture softened slightly. "Excuse me for a moment."
Before Kristian could agree or disagree, Dean left the room, closing the door 
firmly behind him. In only seconds, however, it burst back on its hinges and 
Reggie came bounding in. Arms flung wide, she caught her rambunctious daughter 
in a tight hug. Her gaze locked with Dean's over Reggie's head. The gratitude in 
her glistening eyes communicated much more than words ever could have.
"Oh, Mama, I have missed you so much! I'm so glad you're better," the little 
girl exclaimed, the sound a little muffled as she burrowed deep into Kristian's 
arms.
"And I you darlin'. Now tell me, what have you been up to?" Reggie proceeded to 
inform her audience of how well behaved she had been at Reverend and Mrs. 
Lowell's. Kristian listened to every word her daughter had to say but her gaze 
continually strayed back to Dean.
"Thank you, Dean," she managed to say in-between Reggie's stories. Smiling 
tenderly up at him, she patted a spot on the bed next to them. "You should 
probably sit. I've a feeling Reggie has much to tell."
"Oh, yes, I do," Reggie solemnly agreed, unaware of the laughter the adults 
barely managed to suppress.
***
Before the day ended, Kristian became very grateful for Lupe. She bustled around 
the little room, dusting and sweeping, humming an unrecognizable tune. Her 
portly body moved with a grace that belied her age, which Kristian guessed at 
around the early fifties. Little wisps of gray mingled in with the black hair 
framing her dark face and highlighting the wrinkles around her eyes. Despite the 
signs of time Lupe's beauty shone like an aura.
"Senora, would you like a bath?" Lupe asked, pausing in her tasks.
Smiling at the darker woman, Kristian nodded. She enjoyed the way Lupe's words 
seemed to purr and add R's to everything she said.
"Lupe, where are you from?"
Pausing, Lupe looked down at the floor as if it contained hidden memories of her 
past. Slowly, she raised her head.
Chocolate eyes met and held Kristian's as she answered, "Mi Pedro moved us up 
here many years ago from Mexico. Indian's raided our camp, he died along with 
our two sons. Now there is only me." Her face contorted with grief.
Reaching for Lupe's hand, Kristian gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry for your 
loss and for prying." Guilt assailed her.
Instantly Lupe's face transformed into one of happiness, "No, Senora, you may 
ask anything you wish. I've nothing to hide. Thanks to you I shall have a warm 
place to sleep now."
"Please, call me Kristian."
With a nod of ascent, Lupe looked at Kristian with approval. "My Pedro would've 
liked you Senora." The sound in her voice implied the high honor she had just 
bestowed upon Kristian.
Finding no reply that didn't sound inadequate, Kristian simply offered a gentle 
smile.
Enlisting Dean's aid, the two hauled the tub up from downstairs and filled it 
with boiling water. Lupe added dried lavender, causing the room to be perfumed 
with the pleasant aroma.
Kristian soaked in the steaming bath while Lupe changed the linens on her bed. 
At some point Reggie came in and kept Lupe busy with questions of Mexico. This 
is a good life, Kristian thought, but while she watched the scene in front of 
her a deep feeling of loneliness crept in.
Dean should be here. Gasping at her thoughts Kristian sat bolt upright and 
clamped a hand over her mouth.
Lupe looked up from tucking the worn sheets under the mattress, her eyebrows 
raised in speculation. "Senora? Is everything all right?"
Still feeling mildly startled Kristian could only manage a small nod. She forced 
herself to relax back into the hot water. She didn't miss Lupe shake her head 
and resume work. Kristian wanted to plunge under the water, to wash away all 
thoughts and feelings Dean stirred in her.
Maybe then she could be rid of the bossy man.
***
Reggie cuddled close to her mother's back; her cold nose sending shivers racing 
over Kristian's skin. She turned over and gathered her daughter close trying to 
warm her. The fire had diminished to red embers.
Tonight had been the same as the previous few nights. Dean had arrived poetry 
book in hand, reading for almost two hours. Reggie had lain beside her mother 
listening to the rolling lines, and flowery phrases. She had been thoroughly 
fascinated with the places he described.
Lupe had been settled just down the hall in one of the spare rooms. The woman 
hadn't minded sleeping on a pile of quilts until other accommodations could be 
made.
With a small expulsion of air, resembling a laugh, Kristian remembered the 
woman's reaction to her kitchen.
"You have less food than I did in mi casa." Lupe's brow furrowing in 
disapproval.
"I'll take care of it," Dean had been happy to volunteer, despite Kristian's 
glare.
The cold air seeped into Kristian and she felt Reggie shiver once more. With 
grim determination, she left the cozy haven of the bed for the chill of the 
room. Her head mildly ached as she moved about, but anticipating it, she 
continued on.
She added a log onto the fire and stirred the glowing cinders to life. Warmth 
began to fill the sparse room. The roaring fire lit up the room, chasing the 
deep shadows into the corners.
With carefully placed steps to avoid a creaky floorboard, she neared the large 
narrow window. A full moon lit the mountains like a torch. The pines swayed with 
the steady blow of wind. Snow capped the top of the mountains in the distance. 
Dean said the north pasture had received about an inch of snow already. She 
hoped that didn't mean they were in for a blizzard. Cattle were lost in storms 
like that.
Once again she stared up at the night sky, reminding her of a long ago night. 
She had lain beneath the pale moon and twinkling stars, bared for her lover. 
Closing her eyes, she thought she could actually feel his hands and lips on her 
again, suckling, caressing and plunging deep inside her. The memory of the long 
ago event caused a warm feeling to tingle at the apex of her body.
"Oh, how things would have been different if you had lived, Robbie." She laid a 
hand against the cool window frame to steady herself. Tears coursed down her 
cheeks as pain filled her heart. "So different."
When her tears ceased their flow, she padded across the cold floor and slipped 
in beside her daughter once again. Splayed side ways, Reggie occupied most of 
the bed. Smoothing her hand down Reggie's tousled hair, Kristian smiled 
tenderly. Reggie's hair was so like her father's, black as the night and unruly 
on her best days. But try as she might, the only face that greeted her revery 
was one entirely covered by a hat and a shadow.
"Damn you, Dean! Why can't you just leave me alone!" Kristian whispered as she 
pinched her eyes tighter, determined to remember Robbie. But his face stayed 
just out of reach replaced with Dean's disfigured features in front of her 
eyelids. Gradually she relaxed and fatigue began to claim her.
As she drifted off to sleep, she thought not of Robbie but of the shocking kiss 
she had shared with Dean. As if on cue, her lips tingled with the memory and her 
nipples hardened.
"Oh, Dean," she sighed with hopeless resignation.
CHAPTER 14
Kristian arose with the sun determined to get back to her old self. Lupe scolded 
her in Spanish as she followed Kristian out to the privy. Ignoring all protests, 
Kristian accomplished her goal. But when it came time to make it back up the 
stairs her resolve diminished.
Dean appeared at her elbow, furious.
"Damnation Kristian! You're going to end up hurting yourself. It has been less 
than a week."
Not the least bit intimidated by him and irritated in her own right, she spat 
back at him, "Yes, exactly. Let's see you lay in bed for that long. Allowing 
people to help you with every little thing you need. And I do meaneverything ! 
Then you tell me what I should do! Why,you would probably have been out of bed 
in a day. If that long!"
"Fine then!" Sweeping her up into his arms - causing her head to spin - he 
carried her effortlessly up the stairs and down the hall. He deposited her in 
front of her door and growled out, "I trust you can dress yourself!" Tapping his 
hat hard enough to bend the brim a little, he turned on his heels and stomped 
down the hall.
Swaying, she braced herself against the wall. "Well!" She huffed, watching his 
retreating back. "The nerve of that man never ceases to amaze me." The gentle 
tone of voice she used belied the meaning of her words. Resolutely she went into 
her room.
Pouring tepid water from the pitcher into the basin, she washed herself as best 
she could. Her strength wearing thin, she sank onto the bed. Feeling something 
odd under her, she instantly arose. What greeted her eyes surprised her so much 
that she covered her mouth in awe.
Neatly folded on the bed lay a snow-white shirtwaist and a black skirt. She 
exclaimed with delight and held the shirt up to her. It's beauty and quality 
stole her breath. Ruffles ran across the bosom, pretty white pearl buttons 
adorned the front and cuffs, and along the collar ivory roses were embroidered. 
Carefully setting the shirt aside she held the heavy wool skirt up. If she were 
careful this would last her at least a year or two.
Then a shimmer of silk caught her eye. Lurking beneath the shirt and skirt, 
brand new drawers, corset and stockings of thick wool had been waiting.
Pressing the clothes to her chest she sank onto the bed. Tears collected in her 
eyes as she realized who had left these fine cloths for her. If only she could 
keep them, but she could not and it only made it that much harder to hold them. 
She usually didn't covet such fine things but it had been so long since she had 
bought anything decent to wear.
At a knock on the door, she jumped off the bed feeling guilty. She replaced the 
carefully arranged garments before calling out, "Come in."
Dean pushed open the door, but remained in the hall. Seeing her still in her 
nightdress, he frowned. "Are you feeling ill again?" he asked, concern etching 
his brow. She didn't miss the smug glint in his eyes though.
Raising her chin, she said, "I thank you for the clothes but I can't accept 
them." She gathered the unused garments together and held them out to him. It 
took all her inner strength not to clutch them back to her chest.
"You should be able to get your money back."
Irritation flashed across his features but he made no move to take the items 
from her. Cocking one eyebrow, he commented, "I don't know what you're talking 
about, Kristian. Are you sure you're up to being out of bed?"
Already tired of his game, she thrust the clothes at him again. Still he made no 
move to reclaim them.
She squeezed her eyes shut and silently counted to ten. When she opened them 
again, her voice sounded calm and carefully spaced.
"Dean, I know you bought these for me and it was very considerate of you. But I 
simply can not accept them, it just wouldn't be proper."
Moving forward he yanked the clothes out of her hands and flung them to the bed. 
Panic surged to the back of her throat. Kristian desperately wanted to regain 
the space that had been between them before. Somehow this felt very intimate 
causing her throat to tighten.
"Kristian do you always worry about what is proper?"
His words stunned her for a brief moment. The frenzied emotions flying through 
her had befuddled her commonsense. This was Dean. He would not hurt her.
"Why, yes I do. I try to set a good moral example for my daughter. Lord knows 
she hasn't gotten it from anywhere else."
His piercing gray eyes seemed to bore through her and suddenly it was as if he 
was touching her. Caressing the inner most feelings of her being. The charged 
emotion sparked between them and Kristian wanted only for him to leave.
Averting her eyes, she visibly swallowed and spoke in what she hoped was an even 
tone. "Again I thank you for the gifts and I so wish I could take them but I 
just can't. It wouldn't be right. Thank you very much though." Stopping the flow 
of words wasn't easy; his nearness unnerved her. Biting her lower lip she dared 
to look up into his eyes.
His face showed no tale of how or what he was thinking. Crossing his arms over 
his barrel chest, he simply waited.
"Dean, please." Appalled at the tears collected on her lower lashes, she bit her 
lower lip. She had no idea why she was crying.
"It isn't easy for you, is it Kristian? You're afraid of me even though you know 
I won't hurt you," he whispered. Even though he framed it as a question, 
Kristian knew he didn't expect an answer.
"I can't be owing you anything, Dean. Ican't !" Kristian explained just as 
quietly.
Tearing his hat off of his head he slapped it against his thigh a few times. He 
raised his free hand to caress her neck. Tilting his head slightly, he traced 
her jaw line with his thumb, grazing her lips with the rough pad. Finally, his 
hand dropped back to his side.
"Be that as it may, I didn't buy those for you. So I don't know what to tell 
you." He slammed his hat onto his head, and suggested, "Take them back 
yourself." With one last shrug of his shoulder, he strode from the room.
Kristian felt dazed; she knew he had lied but it gave her the perfect excuse to 
keep the clothes. The clothes weren't causing her to stumble along in her 
thoughts, however, that could not be blamed on anything other than him. The man. 
Dean. Her stranger.
His touch seemed to ignite the very depths of her stomach. She burned for more.
Some inkling of recognition drummed in her head, taunting her with its 
importance. The pounding in her head caused her to dismiss all other matters. 
Rolling her shoulders to work out the tension she jumped when Reggie came 
running in.
"Look! Look! Mama look!" Twirling around she allowed her mother a view of the 
green dress covered in ruffles. With her plait of black hair trailing down her 
back and bright green eyes, Reggie looked splendid.
"Isn't it beautiful! I even have new under-things!" As if to prove her point she 
jerked up her dress and displayed the white pantaloons and wool stocking. "I 
lookso pretty!" Then before Kristian could say a single word, Reggie dashed back 
out the door, shutting it firmly behind her.
Her daughter's exuberance rubbed off a little and Kristian jerked her own 
nightgown over her head. Reverently, she pulled on the new corset, then the 
silky drawers. She smoothed the warm woolen stockings up her legs. Lastly she 
covered up with the new shirt and skirt.
She ran her hand down the front of her top, fingering each pearl button. Once 
upon a time she would have taken such a fine thing for granted. The cloth felt a 
little stiff against her skin but she relished it. For the first time in years 
she actually felt warm.
Dean had not fooled her; she knew it was he that left the clothes for them. But, 
no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself to be annoyed by it any 
longer. Rather she felt immense gratitude for providing Reggie with something 
that she herself couldn't. Once again, Dean had helped them out. It seemed she 
was fated to be obliged to him.
After that morning Kristian started finding things left for her all over the 
house. That night, as she prepared herself for bed, she found a pretty little 
sewing bag propped up next to her bed. Hesitantly opening it, she found threads 
of every color and shade. Several silver needles in a pretty metal case and 
little bits of cloth filled the bottom of the package. Holding each package of 
thread to the light, she marveled over the quality. There was no question who 
had left this glorious present for her.
The next day, feeling stronger, she decided to go with Reggie outside to play 
for a while. On the peg by the door hung a brand new cloak. Dark blue wool, 
trimmed with dark rabbit' fur, it took her breath away in its beauty. Next to 
this hung a miniature version, obviously meant for Reggie.
Her mouth tightened with irritation. How dare he! It was bad enough giving her 
new clothing, but then the cloak and sewing materials. What must the people in 
town think of her now, she fumed.
"Mama, did you see your new cloak? Dean had them made especially for us by Mrs. 
Lowell. Aren't they beautiful?" Rubbing the gentle fur against her cheek, Reggie 
beamed up at her mother.
Pushing aside the irritation directed at Dean, Kristian smiled down at Reggie. 
"Yes, they're very nice." Her pride insisted she not use the new cloak but her 
old shabby one. Looking through the house proved it to be missing.
"Lupe, have you seen my coat?" Kristian demanded, instantly regretting her sharp 
tone.
Raising her eyebrows slightly, Lupe glanced toward the peg by the door. "That be 
the only coat I've seen in my stay here, Senora." She resumed peeling potatoes, 
ignoring Kristian's sigh of frustration.
She had no choice; she had to wear the new one. Thrusting her arms throw the 
sleeves she cursed quietly. He'd gotten rid of her old one, there was no point 
in even looking, she knew. Feeling the velvety down against her face made it 
hard to stay mad at Dean.
The next day her lace-up boots were missing, in their place were button up, 
patent leather boots. They fit perfectly. Kristian didn't bother searching the 
house this time, she knew her abused shoes would be missing. Thrown out by a 
caring, yet irritating, man.
Strong enough to make her own way up and down the stairs now, she descended 
scanning the house for Dean. Feeling his gaze on her, she turned to see him 
standing just outside the back door. He was leaning against the doorframe 
smoking a cheroot, eyeing her with especially bold appreciation.
"Nice boots," he growled, his strong white teeth clamped down on the cigar.
Refusing to comment she pulled the chair out and sat down with aplop . 
Distinctly ignoring him, she turned her gaze to Lupe. She had been up much 
earlier than anyone and already had the coffee made, slapjacks on a plate and 
delicious syrup steaming in a pan. Sausage hissed on the hot griddle and freshly 
churned butter filled a crockery bowl.
"This looks fantastic Lupe, thank you," Kristian complimented the older woman as 
she reached for the syrup.
"Muchas gracias, Senora."
Dean pushed his hat to the back of his head and ground out the cigar with the 
tip of his boot. Shutting the rear door, he sauntered over, watching Kristian 
try to ignore his presence, amusement crooked his lips. It didn't surprise him 
when her gaze shifted to him. The resentment in Kristian's gaze did give him 
pause, however.
Suddenly defensive he asked, "Is something on your mind, Kristian?" With a 
lopsided grin, he winked at her to hide his discomfort. He knew she was riled up 
about the new boots and prepared for the resulting talk of not being obliged to 
him.
"Dean, if you're going to sit at my table from now on you will remove your hat." 
Challenge glittered in her eyes.
Confused for a moment by the subject, he remained silent. With immense patience, 
he answered, "Kristian, you know why I --" But before he could finish she 
whisked his hat off.
"I will not tolerate that nonsense any longer." She answered waving her hand in 
a dismissive motion and then tossed his hat to the floor.
A thin white line circled Dean's lips as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
"Kristian, don't ever do that again." He glared at her for a long moment before 
grating back his chair, knocking it over backwards. He bent to swipe up his hat 
and stomped toward the door.
Before he could escape, she impudently called, "Your scars are not that bad!"
Dean didn't dare pause or else he just might bend her over his knee and spank 
that pretty little behind of hers. Instead he continued through the door, 
slamming it with a loud crash.
CHAPTER 15
"Damn woman!" he muttered, stalking toward the barn. Didn't she know, or 
understand, that he looked hideous? Hell, she herself didn't even recognize him 
from before. How could he allow others to look at him at their will?
Then a thought occurred to him and a sheepish smile slipped onto his lips. She 
wasn't scared of him, but then he frowned. Maybe a little fear was a good thing. 
Imagine, he fumed, whipping his hat off like that.
"Dean?" a little voice called out.
He froze in mid-step. He didn't want to deal withher daughter right now. Even 
before that thought ran its course regret assailed him. The little girl wasn't 
at fault. She was in an innocent bystander in the life Kristian had chosen. He 
slowly turned back toward the house to seek Reggie. She waited for his attention 
next to the porch, the skirt of her green dress held tightly inside two fists. 
Kristian stood behind her, hands on her slim hips.
"You said that maybe some other time I could come out with you. Is today that 
day?"
He immediately noticed Kristian's surprise and anxiety, but she didn't protest. 
That was a plus.
Pushing aside his thoughts of Kristian, he sauntered to Reggie's side.
"Sure, of course you have to ask your Mama," Dean answered Reggie, a mischievous 
grin in his eyes, if not his lips.
Speechless, Kristian could only nod her acquiescence and give Reggie a tremulous 
smile. She had followed Reggie out on the porch, to make sure her daughter was 
alright. Now she watched as Dean engulfed Reggie's small hand in his larger 
callused one, and walked toward the barn together.
She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and didn't attempt to wipe them off. 
No man had ever treated Reggie with such thoughtfulness as he did. Why hadn't 
she married a man like that?
She had known only one man in all her lifetime that contained that sort of 
kindness in his soul. Only one man whose unselfish love for her had surpassed 
his own wants and desires. Only one man whom she would have laid down her own 
life to save. Only one man who had loved her more with each breath she had 
taken, and she him. Only one man whom she had willingly laid with and enjoyed 
each breathless moment. Only one man she dreamed of, lived for and wished for 
every second of the day.
But maybe, just maybe, she had metanother.
***
Kristian sipped a cup of blackberry tea Lupe had made for her, when Cowboy came 
to visit. Kristian blinked in the mild bewilderment as her gaze traveled the 
length of his aged body.
The perpetual lump of chew that stayed in his mouth was missing. His hair 
remained wet from a recent wash and parted in the middle, slanted to the sides, 
the imprint of the comb still showing. A clean shave complimented his wrinkled 
face and a bath left the scent of fall cling to him. He looked like a completely 
different person.
"Yes, Cowboy? Is something on your mind?" she asked, not bothering to hide her 
curiosity.
His Adams apple slid up and down several times before he spoke up. "Well, Ms. 
Rosell, I have actually come to see if Ms. Guadeloupe would like to go for a 
walk with me."
Delight flowed through Kristian's body, Cowboy was courting Lupe.
"Why I don't see why not." Turning around she wasn't surprised to see Lupe 
standing there. "Lupe?"
The older woman bristled with uncontrolled irritation; finally she threw her 
hands up in exasperation. Wagging her finger at him she yelled, "I tell you no 
come here! Mucho trabajo, you..." As Lupe stormed from the room ranting in her 
foreign dialect, Kristian turned and smiled at him.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what she is saying and from the sound of it, it may 
just be a blessing," Kristian summed up, a fetching blush climbing her neck.
Cowboy followed Lupe with his gaze until she was out of view, then reluctantly 
dragged it back to Kristian. "I do understand her and believe me, youdon't want 
to know." The laughing glint in his eyes reassured her.
"Why don't you come for dinner tonight, Cowboy. I'm sure Lupe would love to have 
you." From the other room more Spanish erupted, Lupe had obviously been 
eavesdropping and didn't care for what transpired.
Cowboy made no attempt to hide his laugh this time. "I would like that very much 
Ms. Rosell. Thank you, I'll see you tonight then." Bowing slightly at her, he 
turned and hobbled away.
Kristian closed the door leaning against it for just a moment, musing how you 
never could tell who would be drawn to each other. Setting her feet in motion, 
Kristian searched out Lupe. She found her upstairs, scrubbing the floor in 
Reggie's room.
"Lupe, I didn't realize Cowboy was courting you."
"Oh!" Lupe seethed. "That man won't let me be, Senora. He hunts me out no matter 
where I go."
Placing a friendly hand on Lupe's shoulder, she reassured her, "He seems to be a 
good man."
Pausing to look up at Kristian, Lupe had a strange expression on her face. 
"Senor Dean a good man, too." Her opinion expressed she went back to work.
Kristian gnawed on her lower lip for a moment, knowing that Lupe was right. 
Without another word, Kristian left the room wondering aimlessly down the hall. 
In the next instant a commotion from outside in the ranch yard drew her 
attention. Thinking of Reggie out there with Dean, Kristian grabbed the shotgun 
and ran, heedless of any danger. As soon as she saw what the cause of the uproar 
was, she smiled and set the gun aside.
***
Dean spent the morning working diligently at chopping wood. Reggie rambled on 
about what she wanted to do when she was big like Mama. Thoroughly amused, Dean 
listened with rapt attention.
"Are you mad at my Mama?"
The question surprised Dean, causing him to falter in his swing. After a moment 
he resumed his labor.
"What makes you ask that, Reggie?"
"Well, I saw you shut the door awfully hard. And you didn't even talk to her 
when I came with you," she summed up with brutal accuracy.
Wiping his brow with his forearm, he looked over at her. She was perched up on a 
log, legs, crossed at the ankles, swung back and forth. Dirt smudged her cheek 
and chin and most of her hair had escaped her braid.
"No, I'm not mad at your ma."
"Then why did you leave like that this morning?"
"Well, I was sort of mad then. But now I'm not." Hoping that would be the last 
of it, he raised his ax over his head and began the steady rhythm of strikes.
After a few minutes of silence from her, Reggie asked, "What were you mad 
about?"
Expelling a breath of air that crossed on a laugh and a curse, he looked back at 
her again. The stubborn expression on her face reminded him of Kristian. Before 
he could answer her, Terrell came bursting out of the trees behind the barn.
"What is it, Terrell?"
"Injuns! I saw injuns riding up on horses," he gasped out, trying to catch his 
breath.
With a solidwhack , Dean buried the ax into the large tree stump he'd been using 
as a block. "Good Lord! Isn't there ever any peace around here!" Dean raved.
Cowboy appeared from inside the shadows of the barn. "Now that could get real 
boring. This is more excitement than any of us have seen in a long time."
"Yea well, Lord protect us from trigger happy cowboys!" Dean scolded him in 
good- natured tones.
Cowboy's answering laugh echoed off the hills.
"Terrell! You go round up the rest of the men. Maybe if we hurry we can be ready 
for them." The man hurried off to carry out Dean's orders.
"Cowboy, you take Reggie into the barn and guard her with your life! If anything 
happens to her..." Dean growled out, stopping when Cowboy held up his hand.
"I would do anything for this little girl," he said, before gently grasping 
Reggie's elbow and guiding her toward the barn.
Only moments later, Dean had all five men stationed at intervals around the 
ranch. He himself stood in front of the house, rifle in hand, waiting for the 
arrival. Boldly, an Indian warrior on a beautiful black mustang rode into the 
ranch yard. Three more Indians riding nut-brown geldings came in behind him.
The warrior wore white and red paint smeared on his face and chest in stripes. 
An impressive weaving of bones and leather hung down around his neck and chest. 
Midnight black hair trailed down his back, pulled away from his face and held in 
place by an arrow. An array of black tipped feathers graced his head. At his 
throat he wore a strip of dyed leather, decorated with silver and turquoise.
The Indian warrior didn't cower at coming face to face with armed men. Instead 
he sat upon his horse and stared back at Dean, revealing none of his thoughts on 
his face. Holding up his rifle, the warrior shouted at him.
Dean could feel the tension in the air. Sweat trickled down between his shoulder 
blades, making his shirt stick to him. The warrior reached behind him and 
carefully lowered a petite woman to the ground. Her ebony hair fell past her 
derriere and ebony eyes sparkled with good humor as they traveled the course of 
him.
Dean shifted his view back to the brave. In the man's dark chocolate eyes, he 
saw clear unadulterated malice. Before he or the other man could react however, 
he heard a familiar voice talking in a foreign dialect.
His gut wrenched tightly.
"She wouldn't," he muttered, but even as he did he knew she had.
***
"Hello, Song Bird!" Kristian called out in perfect Shoshonean dialect.
"Hello, Walking Ghost," the beautiful Mouache Indian woman returned. "Are you 
safe?"
The woman's candor didn't shock Kristian. "Yes."
"Some of the men went into town to trade and they were told your man is dead."
Nodding her head, Kristian answered, "Yes, he died."
"The Spirits have protected you." Song Bird glanced over at Dean, who still held 
his rifle at the ready. "Is he your new man?"
Kristian looked toward Dean and considered Song Bird's words. Dean had been 
there for her the last few weeks in a way no one besides her parents had. He 
cared for Reggie and seemed to want to provide for Kristian. She had not been 
asked to repay his kindness in any form. Suddenly she felt immense guilt for 
being so arrogant at breakfast. He could have demanded a lot in their 
association, yet he had not. He had continually given.
Now he stood facing down a group of warrior Indians that, Kristian admitted to 
herself, would frighten just about anyone else. Buck would never have done such 
a thing for her. Hell, Buck would have given her to the Indians before 
sacrificing himself.
"Yes, I suppose he is," her voice broke and sounded hoarse. Until that moment 
she had not considered the impact he had made upon her.
Dean's jaw muscles were bulging and he stood very rigid. He didn't know that 
these Indians were her friends.
Just then Black Eagle, the brave that Song Bird had ridden in with, spoke to 
her. Kristian frowned and nodded her head.
With great reluctance, she translated, "Dean, if you don't lower your weapon, 
Black Eagle says he will kill your men."
Without looking away from Black Eagle, Dean asked, "Kristian, do you know these 
people? Are they friends of yours?"
"Yes." Walking forward, she placed her hand on Dean's shoulder. "Please Dean, 
they won't hurt us."
Black Eagle yelled into the trees and several more Indians appeared. Each brave 
held a knife to the throat of a hired hand.
Grinding his teeth together for a brief moment he contemplated the situation. 
Finally seeing no other way, he sighed.
"You're sure?" he asked her one last time, casting a brief glance toward her.
"Yes," she smiled encouragingly as he lowered his rifle.
Black Eagle nudged his horse closer to Dean, until the black mustang brushed 
Dean's chest. The two men stared at one another for a thick minute. Neither 
smiled, nor spoke, they just glared and measured the other's worth.
Then Black Eagle surprised Dean by speaking broken English, "White man lucky. 
Walking Ghost good squaw, worth four horses."
Dean smiled. "For all the trouble she gets into to, I'd give her to you for 
two."
Black Eagle grinned at Dean. The Indian brave didn't smile at anyone that she 
knew of.
"If it could be, it would be. What do they call you?"
"Dean," his answer was clipped and his eyes narrowed.
With a nod of his head, Black Eagle gave Dean a look of silent warning. He never 
uttered a single word but the two men understood each other perfectly. Dean 
didn't hurt Kristian and he would live. Walking to the side of the Indian, Dean 
spoke in a voice that carried only to him.
"She is mine, Black Eagle."
For a flight second Dean recognized regret flashing through the man's eyes.
"Then we be friends, you and I."
Dean's only answer was a slight nod.
Letting out a fierce cry and signaling with his hands, Black Eagle instructed 
his peers to release their hostages. The Indians surrounding them let go of the 
hands and walked away, unafraid of retaliation.
The humiliated men fell to the ground sighing with relief. Small lines of blood 
decorated their throats. Slowly standing the men made their way back behind the 
barn.
Kristian grimaced at their throats and pale faces. Dean watched her, beckoning 
her. Dean turned on his heel and walked toward the barn. Before he reached the 
large double doors, however, he turned and stood, his feet spread wide, his 
hands on the rifle. As Song Bird and Black Eagle talked with her, once again in 
Shoshonean, Dean stood there. Guarding her, protecting her, as no one else had 
ever done. Not even Robbie.
CHAPTER 16
That night, Kristian tossed and turned in her bed. Despite the warm cotton 
nightgown she had found lying in wait for her that evening, she could not get 
comfortable. Frustrated with herself, Kristian lunged from the bed and pulled 
the matching wrapper around her.
Thoughts of Dean had tormented her since that afternoon. Song Bird had stayed 
only long enough to check on her and then, remounting behind Black Eagle, they 
had disappeared back into the trees.
As she made her way down the stairs, she regretted yet again, her actions of 
that very morning. She had felt increasingly ornery as the days went by, with an 
unaccountable need to irritate Dean. He still denied leaving all the little 
presents for her but no one else would have dared such a thing.
Reaching the kitchen, she didn't bother with lighting a lamp. Instead she headed 
straight to the back door. She needed some fresh air. Then maybe she could get 
some sleep.
Stepping over the threshold onto the roofless porch, she paused as the blackness 
swept over her. Fear seemed to seep into her bones. She felt safe enough behind 
the bolted doors, but stepping out here caused some of her courage to evaporate.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she briskly rubbed her arms. She shivered more 
from the retreating fear than from the cold. The piercing breeze penetrated 
through her nightgown and wrapper. Closing her eyes, Kristian inhaled deeply of 
the pine scent drifting through the air. Instantly her mind connected the 
pleasant odor with Dean. The fragrance of pine usually surrounded him.
She gazed up at the stars and comforted herself in the twinkle of the jewels. 
When she was a child her father used to lift her up high onto his shoulders and 
tell her, "Would you bring me one of those stars down, sweetling?"
She would giggle and tell him that she couldn't reach that far. But her father 
refused to be daunted by such a mundane thing, "Try harder Kristian! Nothing is 
impossible with the Lord, the good book tells us so." Then he would pull her 
down and hug her close. Before it was over he would tickle her until she neared 
wetting her drawers. Kristian smiled into the darkness, feeling safer with the 
memory of her father filling her thoughts.
Near to where she stood a branch cracked and leaves stirred. She stiffened with 
awareness. Some one was out there. Swallowing the rising panic, she tried to 
will herself back in the house. Her feet refused to move, her body ignoring her 
demands. Turning her head to search into the inky velvet night, she saw a red 
eye staring back at her.
As it drew nearer, a rich aromatic sweetness filled the night air. Relief 
flooded her as she realized the intruder was Dean.
"I didn't realize you smoked those things so much," she commented with contempt.
A smile in his words, he said, "Only whenother comforts are short in coming, 
Kristian."
She flushed with embarrassment, glad for the darkness. Primly she informed him, 
"I wouldn't know of such things."
"Yes, well," clearing his throat he smothered a laugh. "How do you know the 
Indians who came today?"
After a short silence, Kristian answered in hesitant words, "I, I helped Song 
Bird once. We've been friends since."
"Hmm, I see." Drawing deeply from his cheroot, the red eye glowing brightly, he 
took a moment to continue. "How, exactly, did youhelp her?"
"What kind of Indians are they?" he queried, refusing to be quiet. He needed to 
hear her talk and it didn't matter about what. He could smell the lavender 
rolling off her. It pleased him to know she had used the soap he had left for 
her. Of course, he thought to himself, he didn't give her much of a choice; he'd 
taken the hard yellow soap.
"They're Mouache, it's a tribe of the Ute's. They're peaceful to those who wish 
to be to them." Rubbing her arms again, she continued, "Of course most people 
think they are stupid just because of their skin. They were here long before any 
of us and only raid villages to survive. Even then they don't kill like so many 
others."
Removing his coat, he draped it around her shoulders. She seemed to jump 
slightly when his fingers brushed her arms. Even in the dark, he could see her 
shiver.
"I'm fine, really. This isn't necessary --"
"Humor me then, alright?" He turned from her and puffed on his cigar. "Where did 
you learn to talk their language?"
"Song Bird taught me," her tone was sharp and anyone would be able to tell she 
didn't wish to talk anymore.
"When did she teach you that?" He didn't believe for one second that Buck would 
have been friends with Black Eagle. When she didn't answer, he prodded her, 
"Kristian? Where did --"
"I hid in their camp once."
"What?" Nearly inhaling his cigar, he choked as he spoke.
"Buck beat me and I was...was afraid he'd kill me. So I grabbed Reggie and lit 
out."
"But he found you?" his voice was barely above a whisper. To Kristian he might 
as well have been screaming.
"Yes! He found me and dragged me back!" She could feel the burn of tears behind 
her eyes and fought with all her strength to hold them at bay.
"And Song Bird?" he knew he was pushing her but she had to let go of the 
memories she kept stored away. If they were to have a chance, she had to release 
the past.
"Broody and Buck found her along a creek and kidnapped her. I helped her 
escape." The simplicity, with which she answered, told him everything. Song Bird 
had been thoroughly abused.
"They became your friends because you helped Song Bird to escape?"
She squeezed her eyes shut trying to stifle the flow of memories he was 
eliciting. "Yes, she...she couldn't even walk and...Well, Reggie and I took her 
back to her people. We hid there with her until --" A sob escaped her 
constricted throat and tears spilled over the edges of her lids.
"Until Buck found you? What did he do? I can't imagine Black Eagle standing by 
while you were taken."
"Black Eagle and the others were out hunting when Buck came for me. He 
threatened to -- to kill the children."
"I see." If he weren't already dead, Dean would've been glad to put Buck Rosell 
six feet under.
"Dean, I really don't want to talk about this any longer." She had regained 
control of herself but she didn't know how much more she could reveal. Some 
things were just better left buried. She needed to drive the memories away, send 
them back from which they came.
Pride wouldn't let her tell him this though. She was the boss; he was a hired 
hand. Even if he seemed to be taking over the role of foreman, he still wasn't 
the boss. And, she reminded herself, he would eventually move on. She would have 
to be satisfied by merely standing by his solid form.
The two stood like that for quite some time, comfortable silence enfolding them. 
Finally, before the thought had been totally contemplated, she said, "I missed 
you at dinner." Instantly heat climbed her neck. "I mean, uh, well, Reggie just 
noticed you weren't there."
Watching her from out of the corner of his eye, he answered, "I thought there'd 
be enough with Cowboy for dinner."
She smiled softly. "Did you know Cowboy was smitten with Lupe?"
A manly chuckle sounded through the twilight. "He is the one that brought her to 
me. She had been living in the saloon taking in wash, he says. He told me she 
needed work. Of course she was madder than hell about it but she took it 
anyways. I suspect he didn't much like her living in a, uh, saloon."
"You mean a brothel and what do you mean she was mad? She didn't want the work?" 
Kristian sharply inquired.
"Oh no, she wanted it but her pride rebelled against him for helping her." She 
could feel his gaze on her face. "Pride can be a downfall."
Silence once again wrapped them in a warm cocoon. Leaves fell from their 
precarious perches. A lone coyote howled in the deep recesses of the mountain. 
The smell of pine, manly sweat and lavender circulated through the air.
"Dean," she began, taking a deep breath for courage. "Dean, I want you to know 
that I appreciate all you have done for us."
He stood perfectly still, his cigar, half way to his mouth, stopped in mid-air. 
He was waiting for the 'but' to come into her statement.
"I've told you before Kristian that it's no problem. I'm glad I have been here 
to help."
Looking down at her hands and turning to keep her back to him, she continued. "I 
think, well Dean, what I'm trying to say is." She nibbled on her lower lip 
before continuing. "I think it is time for you to move on," she burst out. She 
held her breath waiting for his response.
"You do, do you?"
His tone was placid and she took that as a positive affirmation that he was not 
offended.
Slowly she let out her breath, "Yes. You have been a great help -- but you 
continually overstep your bounds. I have asked you to stop trying to run the 
place and you just refuse to. Then there is the matter of Reggie..." At this she 
braced her hands on the railing of the porch.
"She is getting attached to you, Dean, and I can't bear it. She doesn't deserve 
to get hurt when you decide to move on. So I amasking you to just move on a 
little earlier."
The next she was aware of him, he was right behind her. She could feel the heat 
radiating from his chest on her back. Stiffening with the expected assault, she 
brought her hands down to her sides and waited.
With infinite tenderness, Dean turned her around by her shoulders. He looked 
down on her and felt a wave of desire. Her long chestnut hair was let down from 
it's usual severe knot. It flowed in rivulets, reflecting the shining beams of 
the half-hidden moon. She refused to look up at him so Dean lifted her chin with 
his finger.
She could hear the deep chuckle low in his belly, without asking she knew he was 
amused at her stubbornness, an irritating quirk of his.
When he spoke his voice was so quiet that she had to lean toward him to hear.
"I thinkyou are the one that is scared of me staying."
She saw the slight slant in his lips and was instantly annoyed at his cockiness.
"Of course I am," she snapped. "I don't want Reggie --"
Placing a finger over her lips, he shook his head in the negative. "No. Don't 
lie to me, Kristian, I think you want me to stay and are scared. I want to stay 
too, honey. Don't you know that yet?"
Leaning forward, very cautiously, to give her ample opportunity to pull away, he 
brushed her lips with his own, lingering.
Her eyes fluttered shut as the tingle began in her lips. The feelings stirring 
in her were so forgotten that she trembled as sexual awareness flowed through 
her. When he pulled away from her, she gave an involuntary moan of protest.
Looking down onto her closed eyes, he waited, patiently, until she was forced to 
open them and look at him too. The moon chose that moment to shine fully down on 
them. She could see directly into his silver eyes. The tenderness and love she 
saw there surprised her so severely that she was struck speechless.
"I'm not going anywhere and neither are you," he stated firmly, with enough 
conviction to match hers. Before she got her wherewithal to argue the point he 
placed his lips over hers again. This time he gently persuaded her lips to part 
for entry of his tongue. The taste and feel of him astounded her. Hesitantly she 
touched him with her own.
She felt a shiver of pleasure run through his body and was encouraged. She 
reveled in the silkiness of his lips and the expertise of his tongue. He 
explored every facet of her mouth, sipping at her hidden treasures. Laying a 
claim to each and every one of her senses. He thrust his tongue into her mouth 
with a stabbing motion that set her body afire.
Kristian wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into his body. His hand 
traced her spine, stopping just short of the curve of her bottom. Shamelessly, 
she arched her back, encouraging his caress, but he denied her, staying just 
above the swell. The kiss deepened and continued until they both broke away 
gasping for air.
Dean traced her jaw line with his lips and teased her, every so often, with a 
touch of his tongue. Reaching her ear he blew gently into it and was rewarded 
with sensual shivers racing down her arms. Kristian clawed at his back, at the 
same time tilting her neck back to give him better access.
Sipping from her skin, he trailed down her collarbone stopping far above her 
breasts. Returning once more to her lips, he rendered her dumbfounded.
Her whole body was burning and she wanted, no needed, to gratify it. Running her 
hands down his back to his buttock, she grasped a firm handful of tight muscle.
Dean was very pleased by the transformtion and lost no time debating what had 
brought it about. As he curved his hand gently around her full breast his 
conscience nagged him. She'd been badly treated by men; he was not going to make 
her feel used too.
Releasing his pleasant hold, he grasped her firmly by the shoulders and set her 
away from him. He bent his head and drew in a ragged breath. Reluctantly, he 
dragged his eyes up to hers, roving every inch of her body along the way.
He was somewhat disquieted by what he saw in her eyes. Her face had lost all 
coloring and her eyes were the size of saucers. She gasped for air, causing her 
breasts to rise and fall distracting him from his concern of her.
"You couldn't drag me away now, darlin'," he said to her when at last he could 
return her gaze. If possible, her eyes widened even more. Her face turned from 
white to red in a matter of seconds as heat flooded her face.
How could this have happened? She asked herself in mortification. She swallowed 
past the conflicting emotions in her throat and attempted to speak, to clarify 
and excuse her behavior.
"This...We...Well, I fear I've given the wrong impression, and I understand how 
you could misinterpret --"
"Kristian, look down at me." When she wouldn't move her eyes, he repeated more 
insistently, "Kristian! Look down!" Still she refused to lower her gaze. Dean 
grabbed her hand in his own and lowered it against her resistance. He heard her 
breath catch in her throat as she touched his swollen manhood.
"Do you feel how hard with desire I am?" She quickly looked away and tried to 
jerk her hand from his grasp. Dean raised her chin to meet his eyes once again. 
"I am not leaving. Is that understood?"
She nodded but remained silent.
"I know you don't want me to leave either and this just proved it." With that he 
dropped her hand and swiftly turned from her, walking into the ink black night.
Slipping through the shadows of the trees, he came face to face with Cowboy. 
Dean almost jumped with surprise. His mind had not been on his surroundings but 
of getting away from Kristian. He straightened his shoulders and looked at the 
other man with narrowed eyes.
"You make a habit of spying on people?" his words were hard, cutting to the 
point.
The older man spit a stream of tobacco before answering. "I try to keep an eye 
out around here. I don't want her to be hurt."
"I'm not going to hurt her."
"I've not said anything about you and the men. That doesn't matter worth a spit 
in the mud to me but she is a good woman. And I won't tolerate anything else 
happening to her."
Dean eyed the crooked figure of Cowboy in the dense trees surrounding the ranch. 
He could detect just the slightest tremor in the older man's voice. Although 
Cowboy was obviously reluctant to threaten him, Dean respected the man for 
standing up for Kristian. He had suspected all along that Cowboy knew who he'd 
been and that was why he didn't challenge Dean's authority.
"I insist on your word," Cowboy persisted.
What irony, Dean thought derisively, Cowboy apparently knew who he was and still 
believed in his word. Nodding his head, Dean answered, "You have it. Kristian 
doesn't realize the good friend she has in you."
The only acknowledgement of the compliment was the slight nod of Cowboy's head.
"When you gonna tell her?"
"Soon." It was the only answer Dean was willing to furnish.
***
Kristian gaped at the spot where Dean had disappeared. Her legs were unable to 
hold her upright any longer and she slumped down against the cool wall of the 
house, landing with a thump on the wooden planks of the porch.
Tears coursed down her cheeks, regret filled her being. What had she done? He 
surely thought her a wanton now. Just look at how he had found her originally, 
laying spread eagle on the kitchen table.
Crying, she drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was no 
better than Emily, a common whore. Hadn't she learned anything over the years?
In her despair, memories assailed her of Emily laughing and taunting her. "Oh 
Kristian lighten up, it's only a roll in the hay. And if you're lucky you'll 
enjoy it, too."
Enjoy it, too.She had never enjoyed it, not even with Robbie. She knew her 
virginity had been the only reason it hurt with him.
Kristian stumbled across her purely by accident on her way to a secluded 
swimming hole. She'd been alone, despite all her mother's caution of such, 
coming down to strip and cool off her overheated body. It was a scorching day in 
Virginia, the humidity heating a person until they were sticky with sweat even 
in a bath.
Hearing voices, Kristian assumed some of her friends had come for a swim too. 
Excited, she lengthened her stride and moved toward the sounds. What she had 
found caused her to stand frozen in shock.
Emily, head thrown back in wild abandon, sat nude astride a man's lap, his 
britches pulled down around his ankles. Emily heard Kristian's approach and 
grinned wickedly at her. She had placed her hands behind her head, lifting the 
tumbling mahogany hair from her back and moaning loudly.
"Ah, Conner, you are such a good one! So mighty and skilled!" Emily opened her 
eyes just slightly to make sure that Kristian still watched. Satisfied she 
winked at her and began to wail and moan. The gentleman under her groaned an 
answer to her, conveying his enjoyment too.
The impatient young Conner jerked Emily down and bent her over a fallen log to 
enter from behind. Kristian's eyes rounded and threatened to bulge forth at the 
sight. Finally gaining her wits about her, she had turned and fled home.
Later that same afternoon Emily had appeared at her home, looking pristine in 
her peach day dress and white gloves. Kristian's throat was dry and tight and 
she could not think of a single thing to speak of while her mother joined the 
two young ladies. When her mother departed so that the girls 'could chat'. 
Kristian turned to Emily as soon as the French doors shut behind her mother.
"What about Buck?"
"Kristian, please! I never said Buck was my husband." She tugged her white 
gloves up at the wrists.
"Then what is he? You live with him." She knew Emily shared the same bedroom 
with Buck too.
"Why, he's my brother, of course." Emily looked at Kristian as if she were 
dense.
"But --" Kristian stumbled over her own words. She had been so sure Emily shared 
a bed with Buck. How could she voice such a question?
"Kristian, I'm tired of your righteous attitude. I know you laid down with that 
fiancé of yours. I saw you!"
Kristian opened her mouth to deny such a thing only to snap it shut again. It 
was true and worse, she didn't regret it.
Now, sitting here in the dark on the cold prickly wood floor of the porch 
Kristian began to laugh. Quietly at first but rising hysteria added an odd 
highness to it. Clamping her right hand over her mouth she tried to stifle the 
noise lest she wake someone.
Stiffly standing up, she went back inside the house, bolting the door solidly 
behind her. She made her way up the stairs and slipped back into bed. Only then 
did she take the time to wonder why she hadn't been afraid of Dean.
Again, she felt the familiar tug of recognition. For the life of her she 
couldn't focus her attention on what had triggered it. She felt way too tired to 
worry about such a thing tonight. She would bother with it tomorrow, she 
decided.
Cuddling deep inside her lavender scented sheets she pulled the quilt up to her 
chin. Before the puzzling emotions he caused could arouse her interests again, 
Kristian fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 17
Early the next morning Dean sat on the course wooden kitchen chair studying the 
woman across from him. She stared down at her eggs and bacon, pushing it around 
on her plate, never actually taking a bite. Her hair was pulled back in it's 
every-day knot. All the look of wonder and heightened sensuality from the 
previous night erased from her face. She hadn't looked at him once since he had 
entered the room.
Taking a sip of his coffee, he debated his choices. He could demand that she 
speak with him but of course then she would just be angry. He could follow her 
lead and not speak of it but he'd be damned before he'd pretend it hadn't 
happened.
The cup of coffee, his fifth since finishing breakfast, was just an excuse to 
stay at the table with her. Lupe began humming an unfamiliar tune in the 
background, reminding Dean that she was present.
This is ridiculous, he decided irritably.
Slamming his mug on the table with a decisive thud, he stood with the habitual 
scraping back of his chair. Kristian snapped her eyes up to his with a look of 
surprise as if she'd forgotten he'd been there.
A defiant tilt lifted her chin and her emerald eyes hardened. Rigidly, she 
informed him, "Today I'm going into town for supplies."
With a slight nod of his head, he turned and ate up the distance to the door in 
long strides. Shutting the door quietly behind him, he stalked toward the 
renovated barn.
Needing to work off a little of the frustration he felt, he grabbed the 
pitchfork and pitched fresh hay to the horses in the stalls. They gratefully 
rubbed his arm with their velvety noses. In turn, Dean stopped his pitching and 
stroked each muzzle.
He couldn't figure her out. This morning he had woke up pleased with the results 
of the night before even if he hadn't bedded her. At least they were making 
progress. He'd waited, anxiety building, glancing at the doorway every so often 
for her arrival.
"Senora be down soon, Dean," Lupe commented, not attempting to hide the humor in 
her voice.
Dean had smiled and nodded, staring into his coffee. But when Kristian had 
entered it was apparent that she did not hold the same regard for last night as 
he did.
Almost all night he laid awake in a desperate form of need. He'd had no idea it 
would be this hard to hold himself back from her. She was a beautiful woman and 
with a good heart, the two put together would be enough for any man.
Leaning against the stall of the golden horse that Kristian called Nugget, Dean 
wondered where he was going wrong.
She was supposed to be wooed, dammit!
This morning as she ignored him, Dean couldn't take his eyes off her. If it 
hadn't been for the respite Reggie had offered, they would have eaten in 
complete silence. Kristian didn't once speak to him, although she held a tender 
smile for her daughter every time she'd spoken.
Damn! He couldn't believe he felt jealous of a five-year-old. But he did, he 
didn't hold it against the little girl, but he did her mother. He'd been the 
very essence of a gentleman since she had been injured and look where it had 
gotten him!
He had taken his frustrations out by eating a very large breakfast. Little 
Reggie had unbelievably ate twice as much as him, twice as fast. When Reggie 
finished eating her meal, she left as quickly as she had entered. Leaving the 
atmosphere in an echoing silence except for Lupe's humming.
Well, he decided, he would just accompany Kristian to town and then she 
wouldhave to talk to him. With this set in his mind, he stabbed the pitchfork 
into the hay. He had a wagon to hitch.
***
Kristian stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Dean sitting ramrod straight in 
the buckboard. He looked ahead and didn't even get down to help them up.
She helped Reggie into the seat, and then clambered up, too. She kept Reggie 
between them, as propriety would dictate and, if she were honest with herself, 
as a shield.
On the way into town Reggie asked Dean every question she could think of and 
talked about everything she saw. Kristian watched them out of the corner of her 
eye, for she refused to look at him, and felt a combination of sadness and 
pride.
She didn't fool herself into thinking he would stay. He was a wanderer, attached 
to nothing and no one. She didn't like to admit it but she felt safer with him 
around. He would come to their rescue, just as he had already, if they needed 
him. She knew there would be a price to pay for it all; there always was.
Last night, she felt was an indication of what he wanted. There was no other 
explanation for it, but what really confused her was why he had left instead of 
making love to her.
She was racked by memories of Robbie. He would be appalled to learn what she had 
put their daughter through in an effort to provide for her. Their one night of 
love had produced Reggie and Kristian had never told anyone. Buck would have 
allowed Broody his will on little Reggie if Kristian would have admitted her 
parentage.
Now she felt as if she were betraying Robbie's memory with Dean. Granted she had 
not given herself to him but she was afraid, if he stayed very much longer she 
would.
She was surprised to feel a slight tug on her waist. Clearing her gaze she saw 
that they had already reached town. Dean stood on the ground beside her waiting 
to help her down. With a visible swallow, she rested her hands on his powerful 
shoulders.
With infinite slowness Dean wrapped his fingers around her delicate waist. The 
thrill of his touch reverberated through her, bringing forth the memories of the 
previous night. Her heartbeat quickened and her breaths came in short gasps. Her 
eyes involuntarily dropped to his captivating lips. Her tongue darted out to 
lick her own lips, remembering the taste of him.
"Lord above, Kristian! If you don't stop looking at me like that I'm going to 
embarrass us both!" he growled out, his whiskey voice caressing her.
Blinking, she snapped her eyes back up to his. The hunger she saw there washed 
over her like a bucket of cold well-water. She couldn't satisfy that hunger, 
didn't want to satisfy that hunger, and she had no business letting him think 
she did.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dean," she answered him with cool 
dispatch.
Dean's hand lingered on her waist a little to long for decency. She flushed from 
his touch and quickly side stepped out of reach to await Reggie. A slow sensual 
smile lit up his face as a mischievous glint twinkled in his silver eyes.
"Make no mistake of it, you will." Smiling that infuriating cocky smile of his, 
he turned and with an exaggerated grunt, swung Reggie down.
Taking up Reggie's hand and lifting the hem of her skirt, Kristian carefully 
picked her way through the manure-paved street toward the wooden planks lining 
the storefronts.
Kristian could hear Dean's amused chuckle behind her. Piqued, she decided the 
best course of action would be to tend to her business and ignore him. Before 
she could reach the relative safety of the boardwalk he caught her elbow, 
forcing her around to face him.
"I'll come with you, Ms. Rosell. To carry your items to the wagon." A lazy smile 
tilted his lips.
Just as a sharp retort sprang to her tongue, he tugged the rim of his hat down 
to hide his face in shadow.
Laying a gentle hand on his arm, she reassured him, "I'm quite capable but, if 
you prefer to wait with the wagon, I'll call when I'm ready." Turning to be on 
her way she stopped in mid step. Glancing back at him over her should, she said, 
"Thank you, Dean." Then she continued on.
It pleased him that she would think of him before herself. She cared for him, 
maybe not much but it was enough. For now.
He was in such a state of satisfaction that he missed the arrival of three 
outlaws into the small town of Dover. Even when the dust that the horsemen 
aroused covered him in a fine coating he didn't respond. Turning slowly, he made 
his way back over to the buckboard. He leaned against the beat up black side and 
kept his eyes on the general store. The minute she waved him over he would be 
ready.
***
At precisely that moment one of the three bandits noticed Dean. Without a word 
the man nudged one of his companions with his elbow.
"What is it?" he asked the first man. The third man looked in their direction as 
he paused on his way to the saloon. With a toss of his head in Dean's direction 
the first man achieved the purpose of alerting his partners. All three assessed 
the man standing against the wagon with the low black hat and two .45's on his 
hips.
"Do you think it's 'im?" the first man asked in a low, dangerous voice.
"It's him. I've never seen another wear his hat that low," the second one agreed 
with amusement in his voice.
"Yep. To hide those scars," the third held a tone of disgust. "Made me puke when 
I saw 'em."
"So, who's gonna plug him?" the amused one asked with unchecked energy.
"Well, it wouldn't be consid'rat to deny him our company," the dangerous one 
growled.
"I agree, I want a piece of 'im too," the third threw in eagerly.
"Not to mention the reward the Howard's are offering on him," the amused one 
threw in offhandedly.
Oblivious to any of this, Dean was whistling not twenty feet away. The moment he 
saw Kristian appear in the doorway of the store he was crossing the space 
between them. A crooked smile playing across his face. Kristian was rendered 
motionless by his sheer attractiveness when he smiled like that. She felt as if 
she were a rose glorifying in the rays of the gentle morning sun.
Lord have mercy, how could she resist a man like that -- and did she really want 
to?
Before he reached her though she heard several little screams coming from down 
the street. Glancing in that direction she saw women hustling their children 
indoors, men scampered out of the street and faces peered from behind drawn 
curtains.
Searching for the cause of the happenings, Kristian glanced toward the middle of 
the street. Suddenly her mouth went dry and her heart dropped into her stomach. 
Everything seemed to slow down, stretching seconds to minutes.
Walking straight toward them were three foul looking men. With each step they 
took the soft sound of their spurs clinking echoed through the air. Little puffs 
of dust rose up around their boots. Their slickers bellowed behind them, 
flapping with the cool October breeze.
As they neared each man threw back the edge of his coat revealing .45's strapped 
securely to their thighs. In their palms they carried a rifle each, cocking it 
with a jerk. Their menacing gazes locked on Dean.
Kristian's eyes widened with alarm. She felt helpless to stop the oncoming 
assault. She knew without a doubt that these men's intended victim was Dean.
Frantic to warn him, her gaze snapped onto Dean's communicating her silent 
horror. He was still smiling unaware of the pending encounter. His smile 
vanished as concern swept over his features. She opened her mouth to scream a 
warning but choked on her constricted throat. His head turned, confusion 
clouding his eyes.
With guns raised one of the men yelled for all to hear, "Undertaker! Time to 
meet your maker!"
Dean looked back at her for one fleeting moment. He yelled something but before 
she discerned his words his body seemed to throw itself sideways. She saw some 
foreign emotion register in his eyes before he fell to the ground and rolled 
from her view.
Dropping the box of groceries at her feet she fully intended to lunge toward 
him, but the storekeeper's arms wrapped about her waist. Paul, the storekeeper, 
carried her into the store and threw her onto the ground. She felt panic rolling 
through her body and consuming her thoughts. She couldn't lose Dean!
He needed help.
She had to lend him the same aid he had so often given her. But how? She was 
face down behind the counter in the general store, fear for him causing 
trembling throughout her body. Bullets echoed through the still air, sounds of 
shattering windows and splintering wood replaced the dreaded anticipation of a 
gunfight.
With frustration she looked over at Paul, cowering behind the desk peaking up 
over the sill of the window on occasion.
She shook her head; he would be no help. Looking around her she noticed for the 
first time that Reggie was lying beside her. God, she was a horrible mother. How 
could she expect to help Dean when she couldn't even keep track of her own 
child?
Then she saw it. A rifle lying behind the counter along with shells. She fumbled 
with the shells as she loaded the gun, her tremors making it difficult to hit 
the hole.
"Mama?" Reggie questioned.
"I have to help him, dumplin'. You stay right here and stay down. All right?" 
Mother and daughter met and held gazes.
The little girl nodded her head. With one last tender smile for Reggie, Kristian 
returned her focus to the gunshots resounded outside. The noise bounced off the 
buildings and surrounding hills.
She crept out from behind the counter, scooting across the floor until she made 
it to the side of the open doorway. Remaining safely behind the doorframe, she 
peaked around to get a look at the situation.
Dean was trapped behind a wagon. She could see very clearly two of the three men 
firing at Dean. One hid behind the corner of a building and the other ducked 
down behind a water tank. She knew what needed done and gave no thought to her 
decision.
Lying flat on her belly she rested the butt of the gun on her shoulder. With a 
steadying breath, she lowered her head, level with the sights.
She focused on the man most open to her, the one behind the water tank. He was 
getting more and more confidant, standing now, using the edge of the container 
to lean against. Briefly, she closed her eyes. When she reopened them, they were 
as hard as granite. It was either him or Dean.
Taking careful aim, Kristian eyed the man, centering the sights on his chest. 
Quickly, she jerked back on the trigger. In her haste, she forgot about the kick 
of the rifle. It sent her sliding backwards, knocking the pins from her hair, 
and knocking her head against the store's wall. Hair tumbled into her eyes, 
falling in every direction. Pulling herself up on her elbows, she brushed away 
the nuisance. In the momentary silence outside she heard the moans of the man 
she'd hit flitter into the air.
Uncontrollable spasms shook her body, but she ignored them. She pushed the hard 
truth from her mind, refusing to allow the man's suffering to be absorbed by her 
numb brain.
"Are you trying to get us killed?" Paul hissed.
"Not all of us are cowards, Paul!" She didn't spare him a glance, didn't even 
care if he heard her. She knew without looking that he was still cowering behind 
the counter.
Securing the fallen hair behind her ears, she crept forward again. The man she 
had aimed at before now lay still on the ground; she assumed he was dead.
Seeing the man behind the building shooting at Dean reminded her of her duty. 
Wood exploded around him as the bullet tore through the wagon's side. There was 
no time to spare, two men still preyed on him. Positioning herself, she once 
again took aim upon Dean's enemy.
This time when she pulled the trigger she braced herself for the kick and stayed 
put. Watching the bullet hit the target, however, left her wishing she had not. 
Blood exploded from the man's chest. Time stood still as he fell to the ground.
Kristian set the gun down and covered her eyes. Never before today had she taken 
another's life. Her body seemed to recoil from the shock, doubling her over with 
pain. Hard cramps filtered out the sparse remaining shots fired outside. Sweat 
beaded her brow. Suddenly her stomach emptied onto the general store's floor. 
She retched until only dry pain tore through her body.
Large, strong hands clasped onto her quivering shoulders. When she looked up the 
sun was coming through the window at just the right angle to blind her. She knew 
it was Dean.
Her stranger had come for her.
He swept her into his arms and carried her to the buckboard. When he carefully 
deposited her onto the hard seat, he held out his handkerchief. Smiling tenderly 
and gazing into her deep green eyes, he rubbed her cheek with his knuckles.
"I'll be right back," he murmured.
When he returned, Reggie was nestled in his arms. She smiled up at him, as if a 
hero in a dime novel had just rescued her. He sat her next to Kristian and 
patted Reggie's leg with reassurance. He left again, returning with her 
purchases, his face contorted with annoyance.
She waited for him set the package down before asking, "What is it?"
"That damn Paul is upset about you using his rifle and bullets and getting ill 
on his floor. I told him --"
She interrupted him, "Oh! Dean let me down! I need to clean that up. I forgot 
all about that." Jumping up, she attempted to step around Reggie. He grasped 
both of her arms and shoved her, gently but firmly, back onto the seat.
"Dean! Let go of me!" she demanded.
"That sniveler can clean it up himself. You are more woman than the lot of 
them," he said, waving his hand at the small mid-western settlement. "If it 
wasn't for you I would still be stuck behind that damn wagon or dead and I don't 
want to think much about either! No!" He held up his hand when Kristian opened 
her mouth to argue.
"I'll talk to the sheriff and then we'll be on our way," he added. Gently 
touched her arm. "Are you all right now?"
"Yes, I'm fine. I feel like such a fool, I just --," Kristian lowered her gaze 
to her hands.
"Don't." Pausing for a moment, he tilted his head and continued, "I owe you my 
life."
Not knowing what to say, she remained silent.
Kristian held Reggie close and observed Dean talk to Sheriff Long a few yards 
away. At one point they each raised their voices and met nose to nose. Noticing 
the nervous crowd they lowered their tones to a more moderate level.
She was shocked to realize how much Dean meant to her. When she thought of him 
dying, a lump of pain lodged in her throat. The thought of never hearing his 
throaty laugh or feeling his voice caress over her body again caused her heart 
to clench.
She ate up his profile, burning his image into her memory. His broad back and 
powerful legs made her blood boil. Running her eyes down his body again, they 
came to stop at his narrow hips and firm bottom. She had touched and confirmed 
just how hard those twin cheeks were only last night.
He was a finely built man, if she were honest with herself. Even more than that, 
he was an honorable man. None-the-less Kristian's mind strayed from the 
honorable side of him and thought only of running her fingers through his unruly 
black hair. The sun caught and shone off those dark locks, lending them a blue 
hue. The curls around his collar begged to be fondled and smoothed, and the 
thick biceps at his arms bulged and fought his shirt with every movement.
Kristian realized, as Dean turned around and smiled at her, that when he left he 
would take a little of her heart with him. How had this happened? She asked 
herself.
Dean jostled the wagon as he climbed up into the seat next to her. Their thighs 
brushed and she barely caught the sigh from escaping her lips. He unwrapped the 
reins from the brake and smiled at Reggie.
"Ready to head home, sweetheart?"
"Yep!" came the enthusiastic reply. "I can't wait to tell Lupe about what 
happened."
Smiling Dean clucked to the horses and swatted them lightly with the reins. 
Muttering more to himself than to Kristian, he said, "I can't believe they 
tracked me here."
Snapping her head around to look at him, she narrowed her eyes, picking up on 
the statement like fire on the prairie.
"What? Are you telling me that was no coincidence? They were after you?" Her 
senses reeled with the possibility.
Suddenly uncomfortable, Dean shifted a little in his seat, "Maybe."
"Maybe! What kind of answer is that?"
"Yes!" he admitted a bit defiantly. "They were looking for me."
Suddenly her mind made a connection and even before she asked she knew the 
answer. "What about the men at the ranch? Were they there for you, too? Did they 
track you, too?" she demanded.
"Yea! I think so," he replied gruffly. He knew where this would lead to; she 
would sink into her protective shell again, dragging her daughter with her. She 
already held herself rigid, careful not to exchange the slight touches of their 
legs.
"Why did they call you the Undertaker?" she continued.
"That is what most people know me as," Dean supplied, all be it with reluctance. 
He didn't want to tell her anymore. She would be disgusted with him if he told 
her the truth of who he'd been the past six years, much less who he really was.
"Why?"
"What?" he stalled.
"Why do they call you that?" Kristian's voice was beginning to rise in anger and 
Reggie watched the exchange with wide eyes.
"Not now," Dean's voice was low, carrying a warning. His eyes darted to Reggie 
and then back to Kristian.
She understood his unspoken message and pressed her lips together to prevent 
words from escaping. Just calm down, she repeated to herself over and over.
The rest of the trip home was spent in silence except for once when Dean dared 
to break the ice.
"I have never seen a woman shoot like that!" The smile died on his face however, 
when he looked at Kristian and recognized the icy coolness reflected in her 
eyes. Reggie even remained silent, sensing her mother's anger.
When they finally arrived home, Dean stopped politely in front of the house. 
Before he could get down to help her, Kristian grabbed Reggie and practically 
jumped from the wagon. Great, he thought, starting all over again. Shaking his 
head in exasperation, he drove the wagon to the barn to disengage the buckboard 
and put away the horses.
CHAPTER 18
Kristian paced the great room. What was she going to do? He was a gunslinger. 
She should've suspected it. There was no telling how many wanted posters hung in 
sheriff's offices with his likeness on it. Men would continually be popping up, 
hoping to cash in on the reward.
She paused in mid-step, what if he was wanted for killing innocent woman and 
children. He could sneak in her one night, rape her and kill-. No! She shook her 
head.
Dean wasn't a killer of the innocent. She had no doubt he could kill a man 
though. Remembering his face when he had stood up against Black Eagle, she 
trembled. How many others had faced that icy glare?
He had to leave; that was all there was to it. She couldn't risk Reggie's safety 
over a man.Any man .
That only made her resolve that much stronger; he had to leave. Before it was 
too late for Reggie to recover, and for her. With this in mind she stopped her 
pacing and noticed for the first time that Reggie had fallen asleep on the rug 
in front of the fireplace.
She bent down by her small child, tucking a stray strand of black hair behind 
Reggie's ear.
"I can't risk it," she spoke aloud.
After covering her daughter with a quilt, Kristian clenched her fists and 
marched outside to find Dean. He was in the barn, putting the tired hoses away.
"Dean! We need to talk," she called to him. She could see him combing down 
Nugget and patting the horse's neck every so often.
He continued to work, ignoring Kristian's presence.
"Dean, I said we have to talk."
He set the brush down on a shelf by the wall and led the golden animal by the 
lead rope into the stall. Unhooking the halter from around the horse's face, he 
checked the water and hay level in the troughs.
Kristian was brimming with irritation. Determined not to be put off, she 
followed right on Dean's heels as he went into the tack room. The door to the 
room swung shut behind them as Dean hung up the fittings.
He turned abruptly, causing Kristian to run right into his hard chest. All her 
thought and logic vanished with the feel of his bare skin beneath her splayed 
fingers. Quickly stepping back, she noticed for the first time that the upper 
half of his shirt was unbuttoned. Transfixed, she stared at the curly black 
hairs decorating his chest, the glistening skin shining beneath. Sweat trickled 
down the hollow beneath his neck. The distance between them was not enough to 
stop the feelings building inside her. Her breath quickened and her pulse 
accelerated.
Unwillingly, she dragged her eyes up from his naked flesh. She met his eyes and 
recognized his amusement. Her anger bubbled forth, pushing the desire of only a 
moment before deep down inside.
"We've got to talk!"
Pushing his hat back on his head, he casually braced himself with an elbow 
against the wall.
"We do, do we?"
"Yes! You need to leave!" she informed him, adding a slight nod of confirmation.
Cocking one brow, he answered, "Kristian we've already talked about this. I'm 
not going anywhere." With nonchalance, he pulled a piece of straw out of his 
shirt pocket and stuck it into his mouth.
Lips pressed tightly together, Kristian advanced on him. She realized her 
mistake immediately. Standing so close forced her to tilt her head far back to 
look him in the eye. Pride, however, refused to let her back up.
"I will not let you put my daughter at risk! You need to leave and never look 
back!"
A muscle by his eye twitched and his nostrils flared. "I'm not going anywhere! 
Understand me?"
"No,you don't understand me! I want you gone! This is my land and if I have to 
shoot you,youare leaving!"
Dean lost his casual stance and jerked the straw out of his mouth. Bending his 
head within just inches of hers, he growled out, "This ismy land! And I'm not 
going anywhere!" Regret consumed him the instant the words slipped from his 
lips.
Her face paled and her eyes widened with disbelief.
Forgetting her pride, Kristian backed up to the door of the tack room. "What do 
you mean,this is your land ?"
Dean could've shot himself right then. Damn! Damn! This was not how he had 
envisioned telling her.
Stuffing one hand in his back pocket he looked at her for a long moment before 
answering.
"I mean -- it's mine." There was no insolence in his tone.
Shaking her head back and forth, Kristian stuttered before finally forming any 
words. "How?" She pressed her hands to her breastbone, anchoring herself.
Dean cursed and spit onto the ground. Pursing his lips together, he answered, "I 
won it in a game of poker with Buck."
"What proof do you have?"
Dean's jaw flexed as he studied her face. Brushing past her, he led the way. It 
wouldn't help to lie to her now. He knew it was time for the cards to be laid on 
the table. And if she chose to walk, then he would use his ace. He'd admit he 
was Robbie.
Kristian followed him up the ladder leading to the loft. At the top, she was 
relieved to find none of the other hands lying about. The men had begun sleeping 
up here to hold off some of the night chill. Various bedrolls were strewn across 
the straw. Saddlebags tossed carelessly toward the wall of the barn spilled out 
various personal items.
Only far enough behind Dean to avoid stepping on his heels, she stopped when he 
did. His sleeping area was the very last spot in the loft. He had various cloths 
hung on small nails in the wall and his saddlebags sat back in the shadows of 
the corner. Kristian was amazed that Dean's belongings consisted of so little.
Searching through his saddlebags, he pulled out what he was looking for and held 
it out to her. Without any pretense, she snatched it from his hands. Kristian 
gingerly unfolded the worn paper, noting the thinning creases and dirt smudges. 
It was obvious he had handled it often.
The paper rattled slightly and she instantly hated the show of weakness. She 
read the scribbled writing on the paper.
I Buck Rosell sign over my land in Dover Colorado to the beholder of this 
paper.Below that was an "x".
Kristian felt a slight tremor of hope wash over her. Buck couldn't write.
Looking up through her lashes, she asked, "Who wrote this out?"
Dean's silver gaze ran across her face for a moment before he answered. "The 
sheriff in Longmont, Wyoming. We can verify it by sending him a wire, if you 
want." Dean sighed and looked up at the rafters of the barn. "Kristian, I'm not 
lying. It's real. Buck tried to weasel out on it when he lost. So I had the 
sheriff write it for him and witness him make his mark."
Kristian could feel tears burning the backs of her eyes. His reasonable 
explanation wiped all of her hope away with one swoop. Where would she and 
Reggie go? She didn't have any money or friends to turn to. All her family had 
been lost, in one form or the other to the War. No where, she had no where to 
go.
Kristian felt such the fool, she had blindly believed she owned the ranch. God! 
She should have been prepared. Buck wasn't one to put much value in permanence 
or stability.
Now this man was going to take it away from her. Away from Reggie. She had no 
alternatives. Despair filled her depths, draining her spirit.
This explained so much. Why the men had looked towards him for leadership, had 
they known? Or did they just sense the true owner?
Sharp emerald eyes locked with his, searching. "Why didn't you tell me this when 
you first got here? Why did you wait?"
He shrugged his shoulders, one side of his mouth lifting in a half grin. "Simple 
-- I wanted you to stay."
Kristian stared at him. What exactly did that mean? Was it out of kindness, 
desire or charity? Either way he had lied to her. Letting her 'pretend' to be 
the boss, while the whole time he was in the background making sure everything 
met his approval. Kristian knew she should be furious but all emotion seemed to 
seep away. She was tired of being angry. So very tired.
Sorrow swamped her. Kristian felt as if the weight of the world rested on her 
shoulders. But inside she also felt the gentleness towards this man go up 
another notch. She had never known a kinder man. He had slept out on the ground 
until they all moved up here. He could have kicked her and Reggie out and slept 
in the house all along. But he had not done that. Dean had taken care of them 
and protected them.
But he offered only danger to Reggie and her. She would have to leave.
Feeling as if her grip on reality hung on by a thread, Kristian feared moving or 
speaking, less she break the fine balance. She had to get away from him and 
figure out what to do. She couldn't think clearly standing this closely to him.
"Well, Reggie and I will clear out right away. You'll want the house, I'm 
sure..." she voiced, her speech slurred with shock. She turned to leave having 
no idea where she would go or how she would live, much less care for Reggie. She 
felt numb, she didn't even feel her own feet moving, didn't remember going 
inside her house. Correction.His house.
Leaning against the banner of the stairs for support she sank down onto the 
bottom stair. Crossing her arms over her bent knees, Kristian allowed the pent 
up tears to flow. Shoulders shaking, eyes swelling, she released all the hidden 
emotions held at bay for so long.
So wrapped in grief she didn't realize Dean stood looking down on her shivering 
body until strong, thick arms scooped her up and held her against a solid warm 
chest. Kristian didn't pause in her release and didn't look up. She knew who 
held her so tenderly, smoothing aside her fallen hair, whispering sweet words.
Clutching his open shirt in her fist, she sobbed.
"I've tried!" she told him. "I've tried so hard to be strong!"
"You were; you are, darlin'. Stronger than any woman I've ever known." His 
slight drawl filled her ears like poetry, giving her permission to cry. "You are 
more woman than I ever dreamed you would be," his voice, gruff with tenderness 
and an overwhelming feeling of raw emotion, cracked.
Lightly stroking her back, he whispered sweet, comforting words to her.
Eventually, she quieted and just sat in the warmth of his arms. He smelled of 
spice, horseflesh and the sweat of a working man. He drew her sexuality to a 
height by merely holding her. Lord above, how could she resist such a wonderful 
man? Not only was he a hard worker, he had showed himself to be kind, 
considerate and gentle.
Leaning away from him, she looked up into his eyes. He said nothing, just wiped 
the tears from her cheeks with the callused pads of his thumbs. He cupped her 
chin and stared deeply into her eyes.
At the first touch of his lips, she was lost. He would be able to do anything 
that his heart desired and she would be powerless to stop it. She didn't want to 
stop him, she would give whatever he wanted, freely.
His tongue expertly parted her lips and tangled with hers. The tingle began to 
form in her core and spread to her toes. The heady emotion unsettled her brain 
and left her senses reeling. Desperately clinging to his shoulders, she offered 
herself up to him.
Their tongues meddled together, setting the path for their souls. Kristian 
didn't want to ever end the connection. She felt made for this moment in time. 
She pressed against his hard chest and heard him moan.
Dean's hand ran the length of her arm, lightly brushing his thumb against the 
side of her breast. Swallowing her gasp, he cupped her breast firmly in his 
palm. Running his mouth down her throat, he left a hot wet trail to her 
cleavage.
A moan escaped her but was smothered as his mouth molded her lips to his, once 
again. He withdrew his hand from the soft roundness and his lips from her sweet 
mouth. Pressing his forehead to hers, he sighed a long ragged cry of distress.
She looked at him through a haze and saw him close his eyes and clench his jaw.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to him. She didn't know what for but she feared she 
had appalled him with her behavior.
"Kristian," he murmured as he smoothed her silken hair away from her face. "You 
haven't done anything. I just don't want to scare you away. I know you haven't 
been truly loved and I won't add to that by taking you right here in the 
stairway."
Blinking, she stared at him for a moment, speechless.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Smiling, he nodded. "I want your promise that you will do nothing foolish until 
we have had a chance to talk it all of over."
She nodded her assent.
Moaning, he slowly stood and turned his back to her.
"Dean, are you all right?" she questioned, concerned.
Glancing back over his shoulder he smiled ruefully.
"Darlin'." he drawled in that delicious southern accent. "Haven't you ever seen 
a man when he's in discomfort?" he asked, turning around fully to face her.
Her eyes flew to the front of his pants. Heat climbing her neck. Looking down at 
the ground, she whispered, "Oh."
"Kay, you don't have to ever be afraid of me. Do you understand? You'll always 
have a choice," he vowed.
Robbie. The word sifted through her mind. He reminded her of Robbie. Kay had 
been Robbie's name for her.
"What's got your mind working, Kristian?" Dean asked, amusement thick in his 
voice.
Making no attempt to hedge the question, Kristian answered, "A man I once knew."
He kneeled down in front of her again, suddenly serious. He picked up her hand 
and held it between both of his. Gazing intently into her eyes, he asked, "Did 
you love him?"
She answered without hesitation. "Yes. Very much."
At her answer, Dean's heart soared. He slowly released the air he'd been unaware 
of holding. Desire curled in the pit of his stomach. He needed to tell her who 
he was. Wanted to hold her in his arms with nothing lying between them. But he 
couldn't now. He had to think about how to tell her. She would never forgive him 
for not being honest from the first.
"I have never given myself willingly to another."
This was stated so truthfully and to the point, that he felt honored.
"This man, am I to understand, that he wasn't your husband or your brother in 
law?" He hated himself just then but he felt so close to the truth he'd sought 
for so long that he couldn't hold back the words.
Kristian nodded. "He was a good man." Sightlessly, she stared past his shoulder. 
"He died in the War Between the States."
Dean closed his eyes briefly. So it was true. She'd uttered that when she'd been 
injured but he'd convinced himself of only imagining it. Now she once again 
confirmed it. Guilt over all the years of cursing her betrayal burned in his 
gut. She had not betrayed him. She hadn't even known he was alive!
She was quiet for a time, reliving memories. He remained kneeling, patiently 
waiting for her to resume.
"We were to marry. Then his brother, Geoffrey, brought back word that he was 
killed at Gettysburg." She paused, inhaling a deep breath and then rushing to 
finish. "Geoffrey fell not long after that."
At this Dean sucked in a harsh breath. He had been unable to discover the fate 
of his one remaining sister, Melissa or his older brother, Geoffrey. When he 
arrived home to the massacre, they had been missing. He'd assumed they were both 
dead, but to have the suspicion of Geoffrey's death confirmed was shattering.
"So your fiancé fell. Did you see him, was he returned for burial?" He knew the 
answers but didn't understand her logic of marrying Buck so quickly. She still 
had an eerie far away look about her that made Dean worry.
Shaking her head, she answered, "No. They said..." Pausing she drew in another 
fortifying deep breath, shakily letting it out. "No. They said there wasn't 
enough left to, to..." As a sob escaped, she was unable to continue the story. 
Tears coursed down her cheeks and her shoulders began to shake again.
Dean pulled her head down to his shoulder. Comfort and safety filled her. She 
felt, for the first time, the part of her soul that had been missing since 
Robbie's death was healing, maybe even filling itself, with Dean.
He, however, felt lower than the shortest pig, knee deep in muck. He knew he 
needed to have told her long ago who he really was, and if he told her now she 
might run away. Where he could never find her. God, he would die if he lost her 
again. No, the truth would have to wait until he knew he had her love again.
"How did you end up with cow dung like Buck Rosell?" Dean tried hard not to 
sound judgmental but failed miserably.
"I had no other choice and he left me no options." Kristian pulled away from him 
and looked down at her hands.
He narrowed his eyes, demanding a better explanation. "What do you --"
"Mama?" Reggie interrupted, her voice quivering with fear. Kristian broke off 
her story. She had forgotten that Reggie had fallen asleep by the fire.
"Come here, baby." She held open her arms and Reggie rushed into them.
"Is everything all right?" Reggie whispered to her mother.
Kissing the top of Reggie's head, Kristian smiled down at her.
"Yes, darlin' everything will be all right." She didn't know how. Kristian knew 
she'd be fine and so would Reggie. She'd make sure of it. She would do whatever 
she had to, to take care of them. Closing her eyes for a moment, she silently 
admitted the suspicion that Dean would play a big part in it.
CHAPTER 19
Kristian dug around in the pantry searching for bread. Her stomach growled with 
anticipation. Her mouth watering with expected delight. Under the fabrication 
that she suffered from a severe headache, she had stayed in her room during 
supper. She just couldn't face Dean yet.
Despite her time alone, she had no inspiration for a solution. Nor did she know 
if she and Reggie should go or where they would go. The very thought so 
depressed her that tears filled her eyes.
Desperate people often did desperate things but at the moment she couldn't think 
of even that kind of solution. Nothing.
She had avoided talking with Dean but the man would be put off only so long. 
Then what would he want? Or would he just kick the troublesome woman out and 
call it good? After all he had already saved her twice and stood up to a group 
of, what he believed to be hostile, Indians for her. What if he chose to cut his 
losses and turn her and Reggie out? No one would blame him. The ranchwas his.
No, she would have to have a remedy before she faced him.
Finally finding the desired food, she sat down at the kitchen table and began 
eating. Lupe had fixed fried chicken, mashed potatoes and fresh green beans 
saving a plate full for her. Taking the first bite of delicious food in her 
mouth, she closed her eyes savoring the flavors.
"I thought it was delicious, too. Wish you would've ate it with us."
Kristian's eyes flew open and she sucked down the food she'd been chewing. 
Choking, she coughed and sputtered, reaching for her glass of water. Dean stood 
leaning against the back door's frame. A lighted cheroot in his hand filled the 
kitchen with the rich sweet smell. Breathing easily again, she glared at Dean.
"Why do you constantly sneak up on me?" she snapped.
The flash of his teeth reflected the light cast from the lit lantern.
"I don't constantly sneak up on you. You should pay attention to your 
surroundings."
Red fury burned in her chest. "I do."
Shrugging his shoulders, Dean leaned down and snuffed the cigar out on the sole 
of his boots. He crossed the room and sat down next to her. She could feel his 
presence with every fiber of her being. The fresh scent of pine and the sweet 
odor of his cigar radiated from his body assailing her. Involuntarily, Kristian 
inhaled deeply, pulling his essence into her lungs.
"I'm sorry about today. In town, I mean," he offered.
Shaking her head to rid the effects of his nearness, she could only blink at 
him. As his words penetrated the fog of confusion her thoughts moved in another 
direction.
"Dean, why did they call you the Undertaker?"
He felt the question like a sucker punch to the stomach.
"That is what most people know me as."
"Why?" she persisted, tightly holding her patience in check. He was evading the 
question and they both knew it. Why didn't he want to answer her? His avoidance 
just caused her curiosity to rise.
"Look Kristian, it really isn't important."
"When men are showing up here and in town shooting I think it is important. 
Dean, I want to know." They stared at each other for a silent, heavy moment. 
Neither voiced the rising agitation they felt or the growing tension in the 
room.
"I'm a bounty hunter." The scorn in his voice surprised her.
Kristian nodded her head and tried to understand his reluctance to reveal this 
information. "And, I take it, you believe that to be bad?"
Wrinkling his brow, Dean frowned at her. "Yes!"
"I don't think I understand. You chased outlaws and took them in to the law. How 
is that bad?"
Giving a short shout of laughter, Dean met her gaze. "There isn't much 
difference between the two, honey."
"But...But Dean you weren't an outlaw."
"It's a fine line." Turning away from her, he stared out the open door.
A little irritated with his attitude, Kristian leaned forward on her seat. "Did 
you ever rape a woman?"
His eyes snapped back around, indignation burning hotly in their depths. "Of 
course not!"
"Did you ever kill anyone for the fun of it?"
"No."
"Did you ever rob anyone or steal in any way?"
"No. Look I see where you're going with this and I appreciate it but it doesn't 
change the facts." Seeing the obstinate angle to her chin, he shook his head.
"Kristian, I killed men and then collected their bounty."
"Dean I don't believe for one moment that you just killed them. Did you give 
them a chance to turn themselves in?"
"Yes, but that is beside the point --"
"No, it's not. You aren't a criminal, you were like a, a...Well, I don't know 
but the law was on your side."
Closing his eyes, he marveled in the realization that Kristian was not 
disgusted. She wasn't the least appalled by his trade for the past six years. In 
fact, she was defending him tohim!
Opening his eyes again, he was met by emerald green eyes. He stared into them, 
searching, until she broke the connection.
God he wanted her. He wished he could take back all the years they had been 
apart.
She nudged her food around with her fork but knew her nervous stomach would 
reject any food it received. She gnawed on her lower lip, waiting for him to say 
more.
"And the men -- in town and here?"
"A man that I took in was killed by a lynch mob. His family believes I killed 
him and have offered an illegal reward for my death."
She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She tried to speak, to make coherent 
words, but no words would form on her lips.
Dean allowed her to absorb all he had told her. There was more he wanted to talk 
to her about. Now that he was speaking, it all seemed to come out in a rush. 
Everything, she would know everything, but one. One secret would be his.
"About the ranch," he spoke quietly into the empty room.
Kristian pushed her plate away, her appetite completely abandoning her. She had 
hoped that she could postpone any discussion of it until she had a plan formed.
Visibly swallowing her despair, she nodded her head.
"I think I've come up with an idea."
She looked up sharply. His voice was expressionless and gave her no indication 
of what he had in mind. Any idea would be better than what she had.
"Well, let's hear it."
"We could get married."
"Marry you?" The words came out as a croak.
Nodding his head and offering her a small lopsided smile, he said, "Yes, marry 
me, Kristian." He let out a loud sigh. "The fact is that this is my ranch and 
now that you know it we can't go on as we have. I know you won't live here with 
me, unmarried. You and Reggie don't have anywhere to go, unless I've 
misunderstood your predicament, and well...I wouldn't mind taking a wife." When 
she still remained quiet he added, "I will never hurt you Kristian. We could 
make it work."
Kristian looked down at her folded hands and closed her eyes. She didn't want to 
marry again. Not after Buck. But despite her thoughts, her heart soared. Dean 
wanted to marry her. She had no real choice.
"All right," her voice sounded small and weak even to her own ears.
"You mean you will?" Delight played over his features. Hope resounded in his 
voice.
"Yes." She could offer no more than that.
"I want to do it as soon as possible."
"All right, Dean."
Standing he looked down upon the top of her head. Her soft brown hair was 
plaited and curved around the pale skin of her neck. On impulse he reached over 
and gently pulled her up by her forearms. Tilting her chin up with his 
forefinger, he searched her eyes, imploring her to share his joy.
"Kristian, I promise I'll be good to you."
She nodded her head against his finger and made a gallant attempt at a 
reassuring smile. "I know."
Very carefully, he leaned down and placed a feather light kiss upon her lips. At 
the touch, Kristian forgot all her fears. The only reality was Dean and the 
current flowing through her body. All too quickly he pulled away and dropped his 
hands to his side.
"Goodnight Kristian," his voice was thick with desire, causing a flame to leap 
within her body.
"Goodnight Dean," she whispered too, afraid to trust her voice with anything 
else. Knowing that soon he would not be leaving to go to sleep in the barn but 
staying to join her in their bed kept Kristian awake all night.
CHAPTER 20
Shoving her feet through the divided legs of the new green riding skirt, 
Kristian forced deep calming breaths in and out of her lungs. She needed a ride 
on Nugget and then she would feel better. The world wouldn't feel as if it were 
crashing down around her.
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt. She cursed under her breath 
at her nervousness. She had been a wreck since the conversation with Dean last 
night. She just needed some fresh air and then she'd be able to decide the best 
course of action.
This morning she awoke with fear. She couldn't marry Dean. Dean deserved a woman 
that would love him unconditionally. She didn't know if she could give love to 
anyone else, ever. She was a skittish as a colt.
The only thing she knew for certain concerning him was the way her body seemed 
to leap whenever he came around. Or when he drawled that southern accent, how 
her core turned into warm running honey. And the way his voice reminded her of 
warm whiskey, burning her to the very roots of her soul. But there was no 
control for her in that. No security.
Stomping down the stairs, Kristian assured herself one last time that all she 
needed was an easy ride in the morning air. Getting away from Dean, she would be 
able to decide what to do. She couldn't marry him, that was for certain.
She found Lupe in the kitchen frying up eggs and toasting bread. "Lupe?"
The older woman turned her head to look over one shoulder. "Si, Senora?"
"Will you watch Reggie for a while? She's still sleeping. I'm going for a ride."
A reassuring smile formed on Lupe's friendly face as she waved Kristian away 
with a spatula.
"Si, enjoy."
Answering with a curt nod, Kristian wrapped her cloak around her and headed for 
the front door. As the door shut behind her, she knew the day would not be as 
planned. Riding towards her on a big sturdy bay horse was Dean. He led a saddled 
Nugget by the reins.
She waited for him to reach her.
"Kristian," he said with a small tap to the brim of his hat. "You're out early."
"Yes, well...Aren't you going in to eat breakfast?" she asked him hopefully.
A knowing smile curved onto Dean's face, "No. I thought maybe you'd like to go 
for a ride with me."
Kristian stared into his fathomless silver eyes for a moment before finally 
answering. "That's what I was coming out for anyway." Resigned, she took the 
reins from Dean. Placing her booted foot in the stirrup, Kristian pulled herself 
up and swung her leg over Nugget's back.
They rode in silence for a while and seemed to mutually agree on their 
direction. Long dried grass crunched as the horses' hooves stepped on them. A 
refreshing pine scent swept over her. Kristian could hear the trickle of Plum 
Creek. Birds sang out their last songs of the season and low clouds enveloped 
the highest peaks of the Rockies. And through all the calming and serene sights, 
sounds and noises, she sat on needles.
"I'm glad you came this morning."
Stealing a quick glance in his direction, Kristian was disconcerted to see Dean 
intensely studying her.
"I haven't taken a ride since I was hurt."
Dean didn't answer and they continued on in silence.
Steering his horse over to the edge of Plum Creek, he dismounted. Following 
suit, Kristian dismounted and led Nugget over to have a drink.
Giving the animals adequate time to satisfy their thirst, Dean hobbled them both 
in the meadow next to the creek. Happily chewing dried grass, Nugget and the bay 
horse nickered to each other.
Dean pulled a blanket from his saddlebags and gingerly took a hold of her hand. 
When she didn't pull away he led her to a large tree nearby. Reluctantly 
releasing her he spread the blanket out for them. He sat down, leaned against 
the tree trunk and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Placing his 
hands behind his head he looked up at her questioningly.
Kristian remained standing and frowned down at him. This was far to intimate.
"Dean, what exactly are we doing?"
"I thought we could just enjoy the morning a little. It's going to be warm 
today."
Biting her lower lip in thought, she finally conceded and sat on the far edge of 
the blanket. With extra care, Kristian knelt and arranged her riding skirt 
around her. Eventually her hands fell still and she had no choice but to look up 
into his imploring eyes.
Kristian gazed into his fathomless pewter eyes and trembled. Breaking away from 
the lure, she spoke before she could change her mind. "Dean, about 
yesterday...Well I...I --"
"Are you having second thoughts, Kristian?" his voice, more solemn than usual, 
sounded strained.
Was he a mind-reader? She swallowed the lump in her throat and shook her head. 
"I don't know..."
A crooked smile lit up his face. Unusual shyness overcame her. Looking down at 
her hands, she jumped when his lips touched her ear. Forcing herself to not pull 
away, she closed her eyes and tangled her hands together.
His lips still close to her ear, Dean whispered, "What is it? What is that mind 
of yours troubled about?"
"Well, I like you Dean and I think, well --" Searching for the right words, she 
looked into his eyes desperate for his understanding. But he allowed her no 
quarter.
"What's the matter? Hmm? Tell me." He stroked her cheek with the back of his 
hand.
"I don't think --" She wrung her hands until the knuckles were white. "I don't 
know if I'll be able to have relations with you." Her voice trembled, tears 
welled up and she looked down in shame.
"Kristian," Dean demanded, although his voice remained soft. "Kristian look at 
me." When she still refused to obey, he grasped her chin gently in-between his 
thumb and forefinger, lifting her to meet his gaze. "Kristian, I believe with 
patience and security you will be able to make love with me."
Although she wasn't a virgin, his words caused her face to redden clear to the 
roots of her hair. A single tear coursed down her cheek.
"But -- But what if you're wrong? You deserve a real wife, Dean."
Dean stared into her eyes with such acute perception that Kristian felt 
unveiled. All the years of pain, of shame and degradation seemed to evaporate.
"Kristian, you're who I want. No other will do. I will be patient with you and I 
give you my word that I'll never force you. But if yesterday was any indication, 
I believe you'll be just fine. I don't doubt that we'll have one hell of a 
wedding night."
Kristian didn't know whether to feel insulted or complimented. Shocked at his 
bluntness, she couldn't manage to even pull out of his tender hold.
"But," Dean continued on, "If you can't, it'll be alright. I'll be honest with 
you, every time I see you I want to throw you down right where you stand. But I 
know you've been sorely used." Her face paled at his words and he moved his 
thumb to brush her lips. "So don't worry Kristian. I'll never, I repeat, never, 
treat you like that."
Leaning forward he brushed his lips across hers. Gently coercing her lips to 
part for him, he explored the sweetness of her mouth. She skimmed his arms with 
her fingertips, noting every defined muscle. At his shoulders, she continued 
around until she clasped his shirt collar in her hands. With a firm tug, she 
deepened the kiss. Leaning into him, her softness pressed into his hard chest.
Unable to hold himself back any longer, he tenderly cupped her breast, rubbing 
his thumb over her protruding nipple. When Kristian moaned into his mouth, he 
expertly unbuttoned her blouse. Tugging on the top of her chemise, Dean exposed 
her breasts to the chill of the early morning air. Weighing each breast in his 
hands, he caressed the silky skin.
He broke away from her mouth and ran his tongue down her jaw. Nipping lightly at 
her skin, he sipped from the hollow at her neck. Reaching her tightly pressed 
cleavage he slipped his tongue deep inside the tempting crevice.
Placing light kisses on the plump mound, Dean reached her nipple. Kristian 
arched her neck back, unconsciously thrusting her breasts out in an offering of 
trust. He greedily partook of her sacrifice. Suckling on her nipple and leaving 
it only to offer the same tribute to the other.
Replacing his mouth with the warm flesh of his hand, Dean refreshed the trail of 
kisses up her cleavage, to her neck. Nipping at her jaw line, Dean tested the 
resilience of her skin.
Smoothing his hand down Kristian's stomach, Dean marveled in her gentle curves. 
He firmly pressed his lips to hers. They both lay back onto the blanket, not 
breaking off the kiss.
Kristian felt lost in swirling passion. Dean's taste and smell caressed her 
senses, euphoria filling her heart.
She felt his hand ease down her body and a sliver of fear spread through her. 
She knew this was Dean lying next to her, tasting of her, sharing his passions 
with her. But her breathing became shallow and her pulse quickened, coldness 
seeped through her chasing away all the tender emotions from before.
He felt her stiffen in his arms and at once became alarmed. His hand retreated 
to her waist and he broke away from her cold lips. Her emerald green eyes were 
wide and her face pale. Very gently he pulled her chemise up over her rosy 
nipples still wet from his attentions. His fingers shook from denied pleasure as 
he silently buttoned her shirt up.
Daring to look back into her eyes once more, he saw gratitude and regrets 
mingling in their depths. Giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Dean 
lay down beside her. She was stiff with wariness but he pulled her into the 
curve of his body. Lifting her head slightly, he placed his arm beneath her head 
for use as a pillow.
"It's alright, Kristian. I told you, we'll take it slow."
"Dean, if...if you want to...I'll let you."
Dean growled in frustration. "Don't say that."
Leaning up on her elbow Kristian looked down at him. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not a saint," his voice was rough with emotion.
Despite her valiant attempt, Kristian giggled.
"I don't see what's so funny." Then after a second, Dean chuckled, too.
After his mirth at the situation eased, he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. 
"Everything will be alright Kristian. You just wait and see. We're going to have 
lots of babies and be very happy together. We'll make new memories together."
"No more speaking of the past," Kristian suggested.
"No. No more speaking of the past, only the future."
Lying in each other's arms, they enjoyed the fresh fall breeze and dreamt of 
their life together.
CHAPTER 21
Today she would marry Dean. The thought repeatedly floated through her mind, no 
matter how hard she tried to focus on other things. Kristian ground the dough 
into the board, kneading it. This was the fourth loaf she had made this morning. 
Later in the afternoon as the sun began its descent behind the Rockies, Kristian 
and Dean would be bound in holy matrimony.
Lupe and Kristian had been awake since before dawn to prepare for the feast 
following the wedding. Her idea of a wedding was interrupting the normal routine 
of the day for repeating a few choice words spoken by a minister.
Dean had other plans and in fact, had put them in progress without telling her 
anything about it. Typical of him. The only reason she knew anything was a slip 
of the tongue by Lupe. It appeared that Dean had invited all the residents of 
Dover and the surrounding farms and ranches. A dance in the renovated barn would 
follow the wedding.
Under Dean's watchful eye the hands had cleaned out the barn and loft. Crude 
tables had been erected to hold the food Lupe and she made. Bales of hay 
surrounded the dancing area to allow dancers a rest. Several of the men in town 
apparently knew how to play some kind of musical instrument and would be 
providing the music for the evening.
Kristian felt extremely nervous, not only from the impending match but also 
because she would be meeting all the women from town. What if they didn't like 
her? It would be nice to have a friend or two here, but what if they snubbed 
Reggie and her?
The morning that they had rode out to Plum Creek's meadow Dean had wanted to 
marry that day, but agreed to give Kristian a week to prepare herself. One week 
had flown by and Kristian still didn't know if she would be ready for tonight.
"Senora, there is someone here to see you."
Glancing up at Lupe from her work, Kristian saw a slightly older woman behind 
her. The woman had light brown hair pulled back into a loose bun at the top of 
her head, soft curls framing her oval face. Her brown eyes radiated merriment 
and compassion. She was probably a little taller than Kristian and about twice 
as wide.
Funny, she thought to herself, I didn't hear anyone come into the yard. Of 
course, Kristian had been so tied up in knots over the impending marriage; 
little had penetrated the haze. She forced a polite smile, lifting the corners 
of her lips, as she wiped her dough-laden hands off on the flour sack dishtowel.
"Hello," Kristian nodded formally at the woman. "Can I help you?"
"I'm sorry, my name is Mrs. Mary Lowell. I watched little Reggie for a short 
period just a while back."
"Oh! Yes," Kristian's smile reached her eyes and she stepped forward to clasp 
hands with Mary. "Your husband is the preacher in town. I assume Dean came in to 
see you then?" Dropping hands the two women walked slowly towards the table.
"Yes and let me tell you, Cleave and I are very happy for both of you."
Bowing her head to look at her knotted hands, Kristian nodded. "Thank you." How 
could she tell this kind lady that she was anything but excited?
Mary watched Kristian closely, a frown wrinkling the lovely aged skin. 
"Kristian, you don't mind me calling you that do you. I feel as if I know you, 
watching Reggie and all," Mary continued, not waiting for Kristian to offer any 
argument. "I think you need to take a break."
Taking her by the elbow, Mary hustled her to a chair and kindly pushed her into 
it. Then bustling past her, Mary made up some fresh coffee and set it to boil. 
Sitting down across from Kristian, Mary braced her arms on the tabletop.
"Now then, you tell me what's bothering you, dear."
Kristian smiled softly. It was nice to have this domineering woman come into her 
kitchen and boss her around.
Kristian exhaled a long sigh. "I suppose nothing more than bridal nerves."
"Well, it sounds as if Dean is anticipating the nuptials. He's invited the whole 
town of Dover, you know."
Smiling ruefully, Kristian nodded her head. "Yes, that is why poor Lupe and I 
have been working ever since last week to get this place ready."
"Men never do realize how much goes into this sort of thing." Mary stood and 
after rummaging in the cabinets for mugs, retrieved two steaming cups of coffee. 
Holding one out to Kristian, Mary continued, "You know, I hope you don't mind, 
but I took the liberty to suggest to each of the woman coming that they bring a 
dish. That's what we do when we have dinners up at the church and it always 
works out just fine."
Some of the tension lines on Kristian's face eased. "Thank you, that would be 
wonderful."
Blowing on her cup, Mary looked at Kristian over the rim and added thoughtfully, 
"Dean mentioned you didn't have a dress to wear."
Kristian looked down into her cup and said, "I don't have the traditional dress, 
no." Then added, "But I have recently been given some wonderful new dresses and 
I'm sure one of them will suffice."
"Well, I've been thinking." Sitting once more, Mary met Kristian's gaze across 
the table. "I would be honored if you'd wear my daughter's wedding dress."
"Wouldn't your daughter mind?" Kristian felt touched by her kindness but knew 
she couldn't accept.
"She passed on a few years back from influenza."
Spanning the distance, Kristian covered Mary's hand with her own. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you. I know she is better where she is, but still...It is hard at times 
to remember."
"Yes."
"Rachel, my daughter, and I worked on this dress for her wedding, but she didn't 
make it to...to her wedding. So I would be glad to have you wear it, such a 
waste sitting in a box."
"Wouldn't you like to hold it for one of your grandchildren someday?" Kristian 
really didn't want to get her hopes up.
With a tender smile, Mary shook her head. "She was the only child the Lord 
blessed us with."
"Then -- well, I would love to wear such a dress, thank you."
A brilliant smile covered Mary's face and she stood up quickly. "I left it in 
the wagon. I'll be right back."
Returning with a white box tucked under one arm, Mary laid it on the tabletop. 
Lifting the lid, Mary spread apart the tissue paper. As she pulled the garment 
out, Kristian was struck speechless by the beauty of the gown before her.
Made from shimmering white broadcloth, the dress seemed to hold a life of it's 
own. Handmade lace hung around the skirt of the dress forming countless tiers of 
ruffles. A stiff collar of embroidered lace stood erect, forming a delicate 
scallop edging around the neck. Beautiful white embroidered leaves and vines 
intertwined through the whole dress, winding a wonderful web of heart shaped 
leaves. It took Kristian's breath away from the sheer outpour of love it 
displayed. The time that mother and daughter must have spent on it was 
staggering.
"I...I can't begin to tell you how very honored I am at the...well, words just 
won't express the splendor of it, but I can't wear this. It is too much to give 
to anyone. Especially someone you just met."
"Kristian, I hope you and I grow to be very good friends. And I see much in you 
that reminds me of my daughter."
Kristian remained silent but nodded her head.
Mary smiled tenderly and held the dress out to her. "Why don't you go try it on 
and let's see where we need to take it in at?"
Nodding, she chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before asking, "Would 
you...Would you help me?"
"I would be honored."
***
Kristian stepped out into the hallway and drew in a deep breath. She felt so 
nervous she'd already gotten sick twice. There would be no backing out now. If 
truth were known she didn't want to. She was looking forward to being Dean's 
wife. To have the right to kiss him like they had a week ago. Even if she didn't 
know if she'd be able to consummate their marriage tonight, she knew she liked 
his kisses.
Taking shaky steps towards the stairs, Kristian reminded herself to breath, 
again. Mary had taken Lupe and Reggie with her, to give the 'bride' some time 
alone.
Kristian had been forbidden to leave her room after mid-morning. The wedding was 
to be a surprise arranged for her not by her. So obediently, she allowed her 
daughter and Dean to work together to do so.
Briefly pausing, Kristian closed her eyes for one last second before turning 
around the corner to descend the stairs. Dean would be meeting her there to lead 
her down the 'aisle'.
Kristian remembered the day she'd gone into town and seen the wooden coffin that 
held Buck. She'd felt as if shedding a layer of skin that day but she knew that 
today would be an even bigger change. After today she would once again be a 
'Mrs.'. The implications of that sent a slight tremble of fear down Kristian's 
body.
A part of her felt scared no matter how much she reassured herself. After today 
she'd be subject to a man's whim, a man's desires and a man's approvals. God, 
please help me, she prayed silently, turning the prophetic and literal corner 
above the stairs.
Slowly, tentatively, she opened her eyes. At the bottom of the stairs Dean 
waited, grinning up at her with one of his heart stopping crooked smiles. Taking 
that as a sign of encouragement, Kristian descended the stairs with a little 
more confidence.
Looking Dean over with each step lower she came to him, she noticed right off 
that he wasn't wearing his hat. His chiseled features shined smooth from a close 
shave. His black hair curled around the collar of his neck, teasing her to run 
her fingers through.
Dean wore a brand new white shirt with lace up ties in the front. The sleeves 
were full, reminding Kristian of a gambler's shirt she'd seen once, tapering 
down to wide cuffs around his thick wrists. A checkered vest of dark blue and 
black, worn over the shirt, gave him a very rakish-gentleman appearance.
Kristian noted he had also gone to the expense of buying new black trousers. The 
most important thing she noted, however, were not the clothes, but the fact that 
Dean wasn't wearing his guns. His thigh was naked of its ever-present holster.
Coming towards her, Dean held out a bundle of blue columbines and wild 
honeysuckle. Where he had found them puzzled Kristian; she knew for a fact that 
all the flowers had already died. Reaching out tentatively, she touched his 
hand. She froze at the connection as sparks shot through her arms and tormented 
her body.
"Thank you Dean," Kristian said softly, an uncharacteristic shyness overwhelming 
her.
With an arrogant smile and lift to his eyebrows, Dean whispered, "You haven't 
seen anything yet, Kay."
Licking her suddenly dry lips with the pink tip of her tongue, Kristian gasped 
out, "Well, let's just, um, just get through today first." She wasn't ready to 
think about tonight. Inhaling deeply, Kristian forced herself to relax.
Dean took her cold hand in his and opened it with his other hand. Pulling it up 
to his mouth, he buried his lips in the heart of her palm. Her heart fluttered 
to a stop. His soft lips drifted to the base of her thumb, gently biting down. 
She swallowed, eyes wide and round, watching him turn her body to mush. She felt 
the slick, velvety touch of his tongue and occasional tug of his teeth as he 
kissed each fingertip.
Feeling a confusing swirl begin in her breast and work its way down to the core 
of her being, Kristian closed her eyes and stiffened.
Dean cradled her cheeks in his hands. "Kristian, trust me!" he whispered 
fiercely to her but she also heard pleading in his voice.
Dropping his hands, he held one out to her and said in his soft whiskey voice, 
"Put your hand in mine and trust me, Kristian. I'll never hurt you like Buck 
did. Trust me, honey, trust me not to let you down."
She looked up into his fathomless silver eyes and wondered how she could doubt 
him. There, in the depths of his mysterious gray eyes, she saw the truth; he 
would never hurt her or Reggie. Hesitantly she placed her hand in his and 
whispered, "I do."
She felt his sigh of relief fan her face and knew whatever was to come, she 
would not regret it.
CHAPTER 22
Kristian glanced around for the first time since she had come down the stairs. 
There was no one else inside the house but she could hear the murmur of voices 
outside. Good heavens, how many people had he invited, she wondered.
"A lot," he answered her with a wicked grin. Kristian started, unaware that 
she'd spoken aloud.
"Oh my," she whispered, the color seeping from her face.
"What is it?" he asked, concerned over her appearance.
Biting her lower lip, Kristian hesitated before answering, "It's just that I 
don't know any of them."
A large grin replaced the concern on his face. "You aren't going to let a few 
people scare you out of enjoying the day, are you?"
Kristian narrowed her eyes when she saw the devilish flicker in his eyes. "No."
Slowly the mischievous grin and flicker in his eyes dissolved and left only 
tenderness. "I'm sorry Kristian." Taking her lace gloved hands into his own, he 
added, "I just wanted to give you what I'm sure you didn't get the first time 
you married."
"I guess I'm just a little afraid they won't like me."
"So what if they don't. They're just people like you and me. Nothing more or 
less."
He was right. They weren't better than she was. Raising her chin a notch, 
Kristian nodded at him. "All right then. Let's get married."
Dean looked down at her with undisguised passion, causing her to shiver. She 
didn't know if it was from fear or anticipation.
He tucked her arm into the crook of his and escorted her to the back door of the 
kitchen. Confused, Kristian glanced up at his solemn features.
"Dean?"
But he didn't answer; instead he just opened the door wide and held it for her. 
Blinking several times, she attempted to absorb what had been a plain back yard.
Hay bales, covered with quilts for comfort, had been set up in rows facing away 
from her. Down the center of the rows purple larkspur petals had been strewn to 
represent a path.
Lord above! How many flowers it must have taken to make that path! He must have 
ordered them from some place far to the south.
Following the trail of lovingly plucked petals, Kristian saw a man standing 
regimentally straight, dressed somberly in a brown tweed suit. He didn't wear a 
hat and his balding head reflected the red hues of the November afternoon 
sunlight. His face, although smiling, was chiseled and defined. She assumed that 
would be Cleave, Mary's husband. When Buck had died she'd been too distracted to 
notice him.
He stood beneath a brand new arbor. It was highly entwined with an array of 
wildflowers and greenery. Next to him Reggie waited, looking more beautiful than 
any other time in Kristian's memory.
Her wild black hair had been carefully curled with a hot iron and the sides 
pulled back into a braid, leaving the back to hang in ringlets. Reggie wore a 
blue velvet dress with a very grown up imperial waist. White lace trimmed the 
collar and peaked from beneath her skirt. More white lace gloved her hands as 
she waved enthusiastically at her mother.
Unbidden tears coursed down Kristian's cheeks. Bundles of pink delphinium and 
purple lisianthus flowers hung from every available branch of the surrounding 
trees. White cotton fabric, wrapped around wooden stakes, was strung around the 
perimeter like a gauzy fence.
Only seconds had passed since she'd stepped over the threshold when she heard a 
lone fiddle begin to sing a soft tune in the silent pine scented air.
Dashing her tears of joy away, Kristian returned her gaze to Dean. His knowing 
eyes seared into her with an unforgettable intensity.
"They're waiting." The words were husky and whispered for only her to hear. 
Realization settled in and she turned her head to scan the expectant guests. A 
lot of them she'd seen in town at one time or another. She offered a small smile 
as an apology and there was a small rumble of chuckles. Confidence filled 
Kristian's heart. All the women were looking at the two standing on the porch 
and smiling. Suddenly she couldn't remember what she'd been so afraid of.
Glancing back up at Dean, she said, "I'm ready."
Giving her a crooked smile, he held her arm securely in his, pressing it tight 
against his side. "Me too, darlin'. Me,too."
Never once taking his gaze from her emerald green eyes, Dean led Kristian up the 
aisle. Kristian's heart filled with warmth and her body tingled with excitement. 
The connection she shared with Dean through his eyes gave her strength and 
heightened her awareness of him. She felt as if he were caressing her with those 
silver eyes. Preparing her for later, promising endless pleasures.
His smile was gentle and reassuring. The fiddle music followed them as they 
walked. Nothing existed except Dean and her. Good Lord, when had she begun to 
feel this way about him? Did she really love him?
As the ceremony proceeded Kristian answered as instructed to but it seemed to 
pass in a whirlwind. When the preacher asked Dean to place the ring on her 
finger, he surprised her by pulling a small, delicate, gold band from his 
pocket. She broke away from his eyes then, only to look down upon her finger as 
he guided the band up to the joint.
Whispering, he answered her unspoken question, "It was my mother's. I hope you 
don't mind."
Again, tears came to her eyes and in her plight to hold them back all she could 
do was shake her head no.
His eyes strayed to her long chestnut hair. Mary had been able to convince 
Kristian to leave it flowing down her back. The red rays of the sun made it 
shimmer with a life of it's own. He could barely contain himself from holding a 
lock to his cheek.
The Preacher announced them man and wife and informed Dean, he could kiss his 
bride. Kristian's eyes flickered over Dean's soft warm lips. Slowly, his mouth 
came nearer to hers. The point of her pink tongue darted out to wet her dry 
lips. She leaned towards him too, parting her lips in anticipation.
Ever so gently Dean pressed his lips to hers. A shock of delight coiled in her 
heart, swirling around in her stomach and finally stopped in her loins. Warmth 
spread through her and her breathing became shallow.
Dean buried his hand in her rippling hair and pressed his mouth firmly to hers. 
Eagerly parting her lips for his entry, Kristian reveled in the taste of him. 
His other hand came around to the small of her back and pulled her soft body up 
against his rock hard chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and gripped 
the back of his vest in two fists.
Hollering and laughter met her from the crowd, as she became aware that the 
audience had witnessed the devouring kiss. Mortification suffused her. Red color 
flowed up her neck, over her face and buried itself in the roots of her hair.
Dean pulled away from her and looked down with a smug smile. "Sorry." With that, 
he took her forearm and forced her to face the applauding guests.
Kristian's face remained stricken as she absorbed all the smiles and knowing 
expressions. How on earth would she be able to socialize with all these good 
Christian woman after they'd seen her act in such a way?
Looking down upon Kristian's head, Dean couldn't help but grin. He knew she was 
embarrassed but the fact that she had responded so eagerly to him wiped out all 
other concerns.
Speaking out of the side of his mouth he whispered for her ears only, "Yep, 
we're gonna have one hell of a wedding night."
CHAPTER 23
Kristian sat upon a bale of hay, padded by a patchwork quilt eyeing the remnants 
of the celebration. The glorious evening was beginning to slow down. The fire 
had kept the guests around for well into the evening, but now most were going 
home. Lupe and Cowboy had taken Reggie back to the house hours ago to put her to 
bed.
"Well, I do believe we're going on home, Kristian."
Smiling up at Mary, Kristian nodded her head in understanding. She felt so lucky 
to be blessed with her friendship, Mary was truly a kind woman.
"Thank you for coming."
"Well I guess it wouldn't have been much of a wedding without my Cleave," the 
gentle woman jested.
Giggling, Kristian shook her head. "No, I suppose not." She gazed across the 
room as Mary began talking.
She and Dean had danced in each other's arms so many times Kristian had lost 
count. Briefly closing her eyes, she recalled the feel of his magnificent, warm 
arms as they enclosed around her. She had floated across the dirt floor, Dean 
guiding her every move.
Lost in her own world of swirling fever, Kristian had lost track of the songs. 
The only thing her attention focused on was the husband that held her in his 
arms. She'd known others were highly amused by their fascination with each other 
but she didn't care. That's the way a wedding should be. The way she'd always 
dreamed it would be as a child.
When Dean had urged her to open her eyes and look at him, Kristian obliged. But 
even that had rendered her in a daze of time. Staring into his eyes, she felt as 
if it were Robbie staring back at her. Until just that second, she'd never 
realized that Dean and Robbie shared the exact same shade of eye color. No, she 
had silently yelled at herself, no they must be slightly different. So slightly 
different, that time and need had caused her to be confused.
From across the room, as if sensing her gaze and thoughts upon him, Dean turned 
his head to look directly at her. As their eyes met her thoughts of Robbie 
ceased.
It would soon be time for her to go with her husband to join as one in the 
flesh. The warmth that had permeated her heart all evening diminished until all 
that was left was cold fear. She enjoyed his kisses and slight touches but what 
if she couldn't finish the act? He promised not to force her but how could he...
Dean's eyes wavered, concern evident in them. Just as he began to walk toward 
her, Cleave met him and engaged a conversation.
Kristian felt a warm hand cover her icy fingers. "What is it Kristian?"
Jumping slightly, she snapped her head around to look at Mary. She had sat next 
to her on the bale and by the look on her face, knew that Kristian had shifted 
moods.
Forcing a smile, Kristian answered, "It's nothing, really."
Mary's eyes narrowed in speculation and Kristian was uneasy as the older woman 
searched her eyes.
"He is a good man, Kristian. I realize I've not known him long but on the whole, 
I'm a good judge of character." Pausing for just a moment, Mary continued, "He 
will treat you with kindness and I fear that has been painfully lacking in your 
life."
Offering a small smile, Kristian bowed her head. "Thank you, Mary."
Cleave joined them then, saying, "Kristian, thank you for breaking yourself away 
from Dean long enough to dance around the floor with me." Kristian couldn't help 
but smile at that. Cleave's idea of a dance around the floor had been a foot 
stomping, leg swinging whirl. She had loved every minute.
With a wink, Cleave tucked his wife's arm securely into his and disappeared past 
the wide-open barn doors.
Kristian glanced around the barn, noting that most of the food had been 
consumed. My goodness, she thought, thank heavens Mary had the women from town 
bring dishes, too.
The town folk had surprised her. Smiling women and boisterous men had 
congratulated her and enveloped her into their party. Kristian had met so many 
people tonight that she only prayed to be able to remember them all. Many of the 
men took her around the dance floor while Dean, to the amusement of everyone, 
stood scowling.
Two arms slid around her waist from behind. At first alarm spread through her 
making her light headed before she heard the deep timber of Dean's whiskey 
voice.
"Are you ready, darlin'?" Coming around in front of her, he pulled her to her 
feet.
Closing her eyes for strength, Kristian began what she hoped to be an appeal to 
Dean's understanding. "Dean, I...I don't think --"
He stopped her words with a finger to her lips, shaking his head. "No, Kristian, 
don't. Don't think, for now."
When she remained silent, he continued, "Just come with me. Don't think, just 
feel."
Once through the gray barn doors, that had been decorated with more purple 
larkspurs, Kristian noticed that the night had began to sprinkle snow. The light 
dusting of powder covered every available surface.
"Oh!" Kristian gasped. "I hope everyone will make it home safely."
"They have plenty of time," Dean answered, his voice husky with desire.
Trying to ignore the blatant sensuality exuding from him, she raised her face to 
the heavens. Feather light touches of snow landed on her cheeks, nose and 
eyelashes. A smile of joy formed on her mouth. Forgetting, momentarily, their 
destination, Kristian enjoyed Mother Nature's gift.
Dean watched the snow land on all the places he wished to kiss. He knew how 
frightened she was of tonight. The pure fear that flickered over her features 
whenever she thought of it was enough to delay his impulses.
Unable to resist any longer, Dean gently grasped the back of her head and just 
looked at her. As her beautiful emerald eyes gazed back at him, he lost himself 
in the depths. Leaning toward her, he lightly brushed his lips against the flake 
of snow that landed on her cheek. He followed the path laid out by the falling 
snow and kissed every inch of her face.
Somewhere along the way Kristian parted her lips and sighed. He needed no more 
invitation than that. Firmly pressing his lips to hers, he deepened the kiss. 
The heady smell of lavender aroused him to painful need.
Rubbing the sides of her neck with his knuckles, Dean pulled away from her. 
"Let's go inside."
With a curt nod, Kristian crisply walked past him. She got no farther than two 
steps when a hand pulled her to a halt. She turned in question towards him. Dean 
just smiled crookedly and laced his fingers with hers. Then pulling her close, 
they went inside.
When they approached the bedroom, Dean pulled her around. Once again she 
searched his face for answers.
"I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes."
Not knowing what to say, Kristian obediently closed her eyes. She heard the door 
open and felt a slight tug on her hands as Dean pulled her into what would now 
be their room.
"Open them," his voice hushed in anticipation.
With aching slowness, she raised her eyelids. Shocked speechless, Kristian could 
only stare at what had been her room. Where her old lumpy bed and base had been, 
stood a huge wooden bed. The headboard held intricate carvings of vines and two 
lovebirds centered in the middle. The end board matched the headboard with two 
big corner posts, rising well above Kristian. The wood polished to a high shine, 
glimmered with the flickering firelight.
A thick mahogany fur rug in the shape of an oval lay in front of the fireplace. 
Two wooden rockers sat on each side of it. The new wooden rockers carried the 
same theme of vines and birds, the only difference was one bird on each rocker. 
When the chairs were placed side by side, the birds faced each other.
A white porcelain pitcher with blue painted flowers sat inside a matching basin. 
The pair adorned a new wooden stand, it too carrying out the room theme. 
Kristian was in awe.
"Thank you Dean. It is much too much, though. This must have cost you --"
"I made it."
Drawing her attention away from the room, Kristian focused on him. "You made 
this?" At his confirming nod, she asked, "Why? When?"
A cocky smile formed on his lips. "I had to have something to do at night." 
Raising his eyebrows suggestively, Dean sighed theatrically, "And I made it for 
you, why else?"
"I don't know whether to be embarrassed because everything I possess needs 
replacing -- or be happy that you were so thoughtful," Kristian bluntly informed 
him.
"Be Happy." Came his soft answer.
After chewing on her lower lip for a moment, she nodded. Moving towards the bed, 
Dean sat down and began pulling off his boots.
"What are you doing?" Kristian asked, her voice high and tight.
Stopping his motions, Dean glanced up at Kristian. "I thought I'd take off my 
boots. I didn't think to sleep in them."
"Oh well, of course not." Unsure what to do with herself, she wandered over to 
the new washstand. After performing her absolutions, Kristian turned back to 
Dean and the looming bed. Her eyes riveted on him and could not be pried away.
While she'd been busy, he'd stripped to the waist. She ran her eyes over his 
chest, absorbing the dark honey skin sprinkled with black hair. He wasn't 
extremely hairy, she surmised, but it was fairly thick around his flat male 
nipples. Her gaze traveled his arms, noting the tendons and muscles that bunched 
and pulled with each movement he made. Coursing over his broad chest she stared 
in wonder at the ridged muscles defining the lined indention along his waist.
The dark hair matting his chest thinned out the farther down she looked, until 
it became a mysterious trail that formed a single line leading into his 
trousers. Kristian's breath hitched when she realized where the path ended.
She stared, transfixed, as Dean unbuttoned the top of his trousers, the trail of 
curly hair still leading further. His hands made for another button and still, 
she was unable to tear her gaze away. As the second button busted free, Dean 
groaned from relief. The spell broken, she snapped her eyes up to meet his.
His silver eyes were glazed with passion and desire. Biting on her lip again, 
Kristian knew the time of truth had come. He would expect her to strip and lay 
down on the bed. God, she prayed silently, help me to endure it.
But to her surprise, he came around the bed and held out a hand. Drawn by a 
mysterious power, she stepped forth and placed her hand in his. He pulled her to 
him and placed her hands on his chest.
"I'm made out of the same as you Kristian. Just flesh. I'm a little bit afraid, 
too, you know." His eyes conveyed the controlled emotions raging just barely 
beneath the surface.
"Feel me, Kristian."
Dropping her gaze from his eyes she drank up the sight of him. She ran her hands 
over his chest reveling in the feel of the soft black down curling around her 
fingers. Small white scars decorated his chest too. With her fingers, she 
timidly traced the path of one, as it zigzagged up his torso to his shoulder.
"It was a cannon."
"What?" she asked absently, never taking her eyes from his body.
"A cannon overheated and exploded."
Nodding her head in understanding, she replaced her fingers with her mouth. She 
smoothed feather light kisses over his past wounds, trying to erase the pain she 
knew he'd suffered. Kristian didn't question her behavior, only acted on what 
felt right.
Dean drew her face up and covered her mouth with his. Touching lightly, their 
tongues set her afire. She eased her hands slowly up his chest, wrapping one 
around his neck and sifting the other through his hair.
His hands trailed down her back, skimming around her waist and molding to the 
shape of her hips. She stiffened and he reluctantly raised his hands. Grasping 
her sides just below the curve of her lovely breasts, Dean rotated his thumbs in 
small circles. Easing upwards and continuing the deep kiss, Dean covered her 
breasts with each hand.
Lightly teasing her nipples with his thumbs, he rejoiced when they beaded with 
desire. He cupped and molded her to his palms, exalting at her soft moans. An 
intense desire to feel her bare flesh beneath him instead of being hindered by 
the wedding gown consumed him. He wanted to breathe her musky scent of arousal. 
He wanted to show her all the wonderfully hidden secrets of her body.
He swallowed the moan of passion Kristian released as she arched against his 
fingers. Breaking from her mouth, he trailed hot kisses around to the side of 
her neck. When he encountered the high scalloped neckline of her dress, he drew 
back with impatience.
He searched her face for a moment before asking, "Kristian, will you allow me to 
undress you?"
She wanted his mouth upon her as he had in the meadow. She needed something but 
was unable to put into words. She felt hot and sparks of electrifying 
proportions circulated through her body, leaving a feeling of disorder. Biting 
her lower lip in indecision, Kristian dropped her hands down to her sides.
Taking a step back from him, she tried to separate herself from him, to cool the 
passions he roused inside her. But Dean wouldn't allow it; he followed her and 
grabbed her by the elbows before she could run. Looking deep into her eyes, Dean 
could see the wild panic on the outskirts of her consciousness.
"Has anything happened so far this evening that you didn't like?" his tone 
neutral and even, caused Kristian to stop attempting to pull from him.
After a moment of thought, she answered. "No."
"I told you that we can stop at anytime." Bending his knees, he stooped to look 
into her eyes. "Do you want to stop now, Kristian?"
His eyes reflected the honesty of the question. But his body demonstrated quite 
another. She could feel the restrained desire exuding from his body. Every 
muscle in his arms strained against his skin, wanting release.
"I want you Kristian, don't doubt that, but if you want to stop we will."
Raising her head, she searched his eyes. "What will we do then?"
Hoping to control the disappointment coursing through his veins, Dean answered 
somberly, "Well, I suppose we could just go to sleep. This is my room now too, 
Kristian, and I plan on sleeping here."
"I think...I think I'd like to continue." She couldn't believe what she'd said. 
Thinking it over, going to sleep had seemed the best answer. But opening her 
mouth to say so, something completely different had come out.
Watching the relief and joy wash over Dean's features, Kristian knew she had 
made the right choice. Even if it hadn't been on purpose.
Slowly turning her around, pressing her back to him, his nimble fingers 
unbuttoned her dress. Kristian didn't move when the dress sagged from her 
shoulders. His hands followed the garment down the curves of her body, pushing 
it past the gentle swell of her hips. When the dress pooled around her feet, 
Kristian felt a wave of shyness. What if he changed his mind now?
When Dean walked around to face her, Kristian unconsciously held her breath. 
When she felt his fingers gently push the straps of her chemise off, Kristian 
gasped and snapped her eyes open.
"Do you want to stop?"
Kristian shook her head no. Giving her a reassuring smile, Dean's gaze returned 
to the pale skin of the top swell of her breast. With his other hand, he 
gingerly looped one finger under the other strap of chemise. With a slight tug, 
Dean bared Kristian's breast for his gaze.
Drinking her beauty in, Dean traced the shadowy dip between the beautiful mounds 
with his gaze. Dragging his eyes along the tips of her rosy nipples and up to 
the hollow of her throat Dean was left speechless. She was more beautiful than 
he remembered.
Kristian watched him closely, waiting for the moment of lust to wash over him. 
When he finally reached her eyes again, she was astounded by their admission. 
The fire of passion burned so brightly in the depths of his eyes that Kristian 
read only approval. She read only love.
Plunging his fingers through her long chestnut hair, Dean fused their mouths in 
a mating ritual ancient to man. Gently he fondled her nipples and traced the 
underside of her breasts, sending shivers of anticipation down Kristian's back.
Reaching around his sides, Kristian traced the muscles in his back. Each sinewy 
tendon and stretching muscle felt her tender touch. When Dean lifted her and 
carried her to the bed, Kristian didn't even think of panic. The only time that 
existed was now.
Laying her on the bed, he broke away from her luscious mouth. Standing above 
her, his eyes roamed freely across her body, memorizing every inch of skin.
She looked down upon herself and was startled to realize that somewhere along 
the line Dean had discarded the rest of her clothing. When her gaze returned 
Dean's, she didn't feel self-conscious. For once in her life, she felt 
cherished.
As he unbuttoned his trousers, Dean growled, "You are beautiful."
When his weight settled over her, Kristian felt a momentary feeling of panic but 
controlled it by looking into his eyes. Dean kissed her eyelids, her nose, her 
cheeks and slid down to her jaw. Nipping lightly at her skin, he murmured sweet 
love words.
Arching her back in silent pleading for the loving attention he'd given her 
previously, Kristian moaned in pleasure when she felt his lips touch her 
nipples.
He flicked her nipples with the tip of his hot tongue, waiting for them to bead 
again. When they did, he suckled on them as a starving man to food. The 
insistent tugging and pulling sent Kristian into ecstasy. Her moans and low 
incoherent words filled the room. Her hips came off the bed, searching.
His traced her hipbone and smoothed his hand down her outer thigh. Sitting back 
on his heels, he watched as her hazy eyes opened. He lifted her foot and kissed 
each delicate toe.
Placing loving praise of hot kisses on her ankle and calves, Dean allowed his 
hand to pace slightly ahead of him. When he felt her stiffen, he once again 
broke away and began anew with her other foot.
When he reached her knees, Dean slid his mouth around to the back and chuckled 
when Kristian gasped in surprise. This time when he reached the middle of her 
thighs she didn't stiffen and he continued. Excitement and excruciating arousal 
heightened his senses and the musky scent of Kristian's sex filled his nostrils.
Bestowing light kisses on her soft inner thighs, Dean inhaled sharply. Muzzling 
against her soft downy hair, he heard her gasp with surprises. Dean gently 
separated the folds of flesh with the pads of his fingers. With the first sweep 
of his tongue, Kristian raised her back off the bed. Her moans filled his ears 
and pleasure rippled through him.
He stroked his tongue against the tender flesh hidden inside the folds, now 
exposed to his loving. Running the length of her, he sent shivers coursing 
through her body. She was hot and wet and Dean feasted greedily.
Kristian was lost. As if she'd been set afloat in the water and now rode the 
waves as it lapped at the shore. With each passing of Dean's velvety tongue her 
body wound tighter and tighter. Plunging her hands into his coal black hair, she 
gripped tightly and pulled. But Dean resisted and continued his diligent 
attentions, driving her higher and higher.
Suddenly as stars and blinding explosions threatened to overtake her, she called 
out Dean's name in panic. His hand grasped hers as he continued to lap at her 
tender coral flesh. That callused hand was her anchor in a world that split into 
a million pieces. Blackness consumed her and her body felt pleasure as never 
before.
Dean followed her hips as they undulated, searching for more, desperate to have 
completion. Sensing her climax at an end, he laid down next to her. Propped on 
his elbow Dean smoothed her long hair away from her sweaty forehead. Shyly, she 
opened her eyes and searched his face for censure.
When all she found was his cocky lopsided grin, Kristian offered a timid smile. 
"I...I never knew."
"I know darlin'. But believe it or not," he raised his eyebrows and smiled even 
wider. "There's more."
Eyes wide, Kristian knew exactly what he. Unbidden, her eyes drifted to his 
loins where his testimony of still throbbing desires stood erect. She bit her 
lip when she took in his large size. How in the world would that ever fit inside 
her?
Apparently Dean understood her unspoken thoughts as he chuckled sensually. "It 
will fit snugly, don't worry Kristian. I'll be easy." Their eyes met and he saw 
the reluctance and fear lying within. Tucking a stray strand of her silky hair 
behind her small ear, Dean asked quietly, "Are we going to stop now, Kristian?"
Kristian couldn't believe his question. "Are you saying you would stop if I 
asked you to?"
"Yes. It might be the end of me, but yes. I won't force you to make love with 
me. I want you to enjoy it too."
Even if she didn't enjoy it, she wouldn't deny him the release. "No, we aren't 
stopping."
"I see." Dean studied her eyes. "Even with the man you said you gave freely of 
yourself?" He felt like a snake but he needed to know. Granted he'd been a boy 
when they'd made love before, but he'd never forgotten his fulfillment. It was 
quite a shock to learn she didn't share the same memory.
"Well, I was a...Well, I'd never... before him."
"Oh." Relief flooded him. "I understand but surely you know that it won't hurt 
with me now."
"I know it isn't the same pain as the first time butit just doesn't appeal to 
me."
"Maybe it's just that you haven't had the right man to doit with."
Kristian blushed becomingly, turning her head away from him. Dean's hand splayed 
wide across her stomach and turned in a circle that brushed the soft brown hairs 
between her thighs. Lowering his head, Dean touched the tip of her nipple with 
his tongue. Licking lightly, he teased it into attention again.
He heard Kristian's breath catch and come out in a gasp. Digging her hands 
through his hair, she pulled him closer, begging to be fully in his warm mouth. 
Thrusting her back forward, she offered herself to Dean without reserve. His 
ravishing mouth trailed a wet path up the middle of her cleavage. Sucking on 
every available bit of flesh, Dean branded Kristian with his fiery mouth.
Unconsciously, she spread her legs when Dean probed her hidden delights with his 
large hand. He cupped her in the palm of his hand, delighting in the heat 
emanating from her. Then burrowing through the soft petals of flesh, he found 
the core of her pleasure and gently massaged it.
She couldn't believe she could feel all these things again so soon. It hadn't 
been very long ago that her passions had peaked wildly and now Dean had her on 
the verge again. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own as her hips raised 
off the bed and her back arched. Her thighs shook with the ferocity of her need.
When his hand left her she wanted to weep. His mouth returned to her breast and 
Kristian moaned in ecstasy. She felt Dean place himself between her spread legs 
and her moaning stopped. Abruptly she felt panic and rising hysteria fill her 
throat until it choked her. All the pleasurable sensations from only moments 
before fell away.
Forcing her eyes open, she locked onto Dean's face. She needed to see him, to 
know that it was he who dared to enter her femininity. All her attention was 
centered on the slick, probing head of Dean's manhood. His eyes opened and 
noticed Kristian's pale face and stricken expression.
"Oh, honey. Are you scared?" His words were groaned out, but sincerity filled 
the depths of his eyes and desire made way for concern.
Inhaling deeply, Kristian absorbed the refreshing smell of pine, sweat and the 
personal heady scent of Dean. Placing her hands on his straining shoulders, she 
traced the taut line of a tendon. He was unbelievably strong, muscle rippled 
down his back and stomach, yet he wasn't forcing her to his will. Kristian knew 
enough to know that Dean's whole body was pulsing with need, yet he would stop.
In that moment she knew that she loved this man. Poised over her, touching her 
intimately, straining with every fiber of his being to be within her yet willing 
to yield if that was what she needed. How had she gotten so lucky? Love, the 
word repeated inside her head and heart willing the fear to subside; forcing the 
panic to calm.
She shook her head and smiled. "I want you."
Those words caused Dean to lose his strictly set control. He entered her secret 
channel, inching forward slowly. Her tightness surrounded him better than he had 
dared to dream. As he filled her completely, Dean never broke eye contact with 
Kristian. Withdrawing, he once again returned, filling her, stretching her to 
the limit. His hips began to drive back and forth, filling her and withdrawing. 
His control was on the verge of exploding but he held off, wanting Kristian to 
learn the pleasures of making love. Climaxing before her would only, he feared, 
reaffirm her beliefs.
Kristian couldn't keep her eyes open any longer; the intense pleasure was too 
much. At first it had been almost painful, the way he stretched her near to 
overflowing, but now as he moved within her, Kristian's body thrived with 
sensuality. She felt the foreign feelings sweeping across her, carrying her 
higher and higher. She bit her lip trying to hold back her cries of fulfillment.
Dean growled out, caressing her soul, "Kristian look at me. I want to see you."
Her lids were heavy but she managed to lift them slightly. The love she felt 
pouring out to her from his eyes surprised and pleased her.
Dean sat up on his knees and gripping her hips, raised Kristian to meet his 
thrusts. Driving into her, Dean buried himself to the hilt. Sensing her climax 
near at hand he plunged faster and harder. When she shrieked, he covered her 
mouth with his own, swallowing her cries of delight.
Feeling the walls of her passage contract around him, Dean slammed into her once 
more before he too, climaxed, filling her with his release. Falling upon her, he 
remained on his knees and elbows to take the brunt of his weight but cushioned 
his head on the soft white mounds of her breasts.
When she floated back down to earth, Kristian gulped in air as her heartbeat 
slowed. She was speechless. How could she have known? Now she understood why 
Emily had enjoyed it so much and taken so many men. This is what Dean had meant 
by one hell of a wedding night.
Feeling Dean moving on her, Kristian met his gaze. He wore a cocky grin from ear 
to ear.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Stifling a laugh, Kristian bit her lip and fingered an errant strand of hair on 
his forehead. "No, I suppose it wasn't that bad."
Dean's smile broadened and a devilish glint flickered in his eyes. "Oh yea? 
Well, I suppose I'll just have to convince you again."
"Can we do that?" All sauciness gone, Kristian's tone was pure disbelief.
Raising his eyebrows up and down in exaggerated seduction, Dean growled and 
climbed up her body. The brush of his chest hair against her nipples caused a 
pool of warmth to stir to life in her loins. Gasping in surprise, Kristian 
looked up at him. Dean answered her by rubbing his hardness against her leg.
"Oh my!" Kristian sighed.
With a lopsided smile, Dean began sipping from her hidden nectars again. 
Proceeding to teach Kristian just how many times they could make love in one 
night. Before dawn, the two lovers collapsed from exhaustion, clinging tightly 
to the other. Kristian had never felt so loved and cherished. Above all these 
emotions, though, she felt safe. Never again would she suffer from the hands of 
evil.
CHAPTER 24
Something tickled her stomach, disturbing her sleep. With an impatient swipe of 
her hand she attempted to rid herself of the nuisance. When the feeling didn't 
reoccur, she relaxed back into the soft mattress and sighed. Her heavy lids 
refused to open and her body ached in unfamiliar places.
Smiling sluggishly, Kristian remembered her night with Dean. Had she ever been 
more wrong about a man, and thank heavens on that. He had been a kind and gentle 
lover with her. What a surprise, she relished. I made love with Dean last night.
Never would she have believed how much passion he could produce in her. She was 
a little embarrassed and dreaded meeting his eyes today. No doubt he would gloat 
over his victory of her.
The only problem she'd had at all last night was keeping memories at bay. As she 
held him in her arms thoughts of Robbie filled her. His body reminded her of 
Robbie. The fragrance of his spent love reminded her of Robbie. The way Dean 
kissed was exactly how Robbie had.
She squeezed her eyes tightly together and clenched her teeth. He was not 
Robbie. She knew that in her mind but her heart kept repeating the chant over 
and over. Robbie, Robbie, Robbie.
He deserved to be appreciated for himself, not as a reminder of another man.
Again, the bothersome tickle swept across her stomach. Taking another half- 
hearted swing at it, Kristian missed. When she felt the bed shift and the 
tickling meandered onto her breast Kristian's eyes flew open.
Dean's scarred and amused face towered over hers, a feather dangling 
mischievously from his hand.
"Good morning darlin', or actually good afternoon," he drawled, smiling tenderly 
down at her.
The mere sight of his crooked smile sent ripples of arousal down her spine. Add 
to that his slow southern drawl and Kristian's nerves were humming before she 
even spoke her first words of the morning.
"What were you doing to me?" she mumbled, her voice still rough from lack of 
use. Stretching her arms high above her head, she watched without fear as Dean's 
eyes strayed to her breasts. The opaque gray eyes skimmed across the creamy 
white mounds, resting on her nipple until it beaded beneath his gaze.
Without tearing his gaze away from her tempting flesh, Dean responded, "Well, 
now, that just isn't a proper way to greet your new husband. I was waking you 
up, of course." Raising his eyes to meet hers, Dean watched her response 
carefully as he curved his hand around her plump breast. "If you aren't too 
sore, I'd like to make love to you again." Before she could answer he swooped 
down to claim her mouth.
His lips molded hers, rendering them pliant. Raising her hands to rest on his 
strained shoulder muscles, Kristian reveled in the feel of his bulging flesh. 
The passion she'd seen swirling in his eyes set her heart to beating faster. 
Swept away in the dance of foreplay, she ceased to think coherently at all.
Dean had come only to awaken her to eat something. Reggie had been asking 
several questions, concerned over her mother's late hour of sleep. But as he had 
leaned over her and saw the nymph stretch, purposely tempting him, his mind 
fogged over, forgetting his reasons for waking her. The sensual awareness he'd 
seen staring back at him from the murky depths of her emerald eyes pleased him.
Without breaking their kiss, Dean trailed the feather down the delicate valley 
between her breasts. The ticklish nuisance from before gave way to an arousing 
path of fire. She felt the curl of emotions building inside her.
Breaking away from the warmth of her mouth Dean intently gazed at Kristian's 
bare breasts. As his silver feral eyes burned into her flesh, he circled the tip 
of the feather around her nipple. Kristian heard a deep rumble burst forth from 
deep inside his chest when her nipples involuntarily beaded even tighter.
"Shouldn't we be getting up?" she asked with weak conviction.
"I am up."
A becoming blush climbed her neck but she said nothing as Dean undressed and 
joined her in bed. The two united in love, professing their unspoken love in the 
only way each was comfortable in. Caressing, touching and kissing until they 
made each other cry out in fulfillment.
CHAPTER 25
Kristian's painfully growling stomach prodded her awake. Groaning inwardly, she 
tried to open her heavy lids but they resisted. Last night he'd kept her awake 
and busy. She couldn't complain then for she had enjoyed each wakeful hour. But 
now as the pink hues of the morning sun crept into their window she could at 
least pretend reproach. Her smile widened, no matter what today brought she 
would never really protest. It was simply too wonderful to grumble about.
Kristian became aware of the weight of Dean's arm slung across her middle and 
smiled. The black hair sprinkling the muscled arm tickled her bare stomach. 
Biting her lower lip between her teeth, she carefully scooted towards the edge 
of the bed. As she moved Dean stirred slightly and groped blindly for her. When 
his hand found and lightly squeezed the plump mound of her breast, he sighed and 
relaxed back into slumber.
Shaking her head at the man's uncontrollable lust, Kristian plucked his hand 
from her breast and unceremoniously dropped it to the bed. This time Dean didn't 
stir but snored loudly. Stifling a giggle, Kristian sat up at the edge of the 
bed and gingerly touched the cold wood floor with her toe.
Feeling the coolness of the floor radiating up, she wasn't surprised when the 
iciness met against her foot. An involuntary shudder still rippled up her back. 
Gingerly padding across the room, Kristian smoothed a pair of woolen stockings 
up her legs and wrapped a spare quilt around her shoulders.
she stirred the banked fire to life with the poker and gently laid a large block 
of wood upon it. Kneeling, she watched the slowly spreading fire lick teasingly 
around the larger mass until it finally ignited.
As the room began to take on a more comfortable temperature, Kristian drifted 
toward the window. Pushing aside the lacey curtain, she gazed across the white 
terrain stretching out before her. It was endless, white meeting white. The 
newly rising sun cast sparkling reflections off the powdery snow. Trees were 
only distinguished at this height by the hunter green lacing the underside of 
the bough.
Pressing her hand to the glass she could feel the winter air held at bay by the 
thin pane. She closed her eyes and remembered a time when she hadn't been tucked 
safely behind a pane of glass, shielded from the extremities.
Almost six years ago now, she lay in the back of a wagon pushing fiercely to 
birth her babe. The wind whipped around her pitiful form chilling her through. 
She, so wrapped up in the labor, was unaware of the snow littering across her 
prone body. Unconscious of the blood pooling around her middle that mingled with 
the blood of the dead woman lying beside her.
Poor Emily.
Kristian had never thought those words before. Dean had brought around so many 
changes in her life that perhaps forgiveness was one of them.
Dean had changed her, or rather brought around the change. The last few weeks 
had passed rather quickly and she didn't remember a time when she'd been 
happier. Reggie was well-loved by Dean and had secretly asked Kristian if she 
could call him Pa. Fighting back the threatening tears; Kristian had only been 
able to nod. Reggie asked her not to tell Dean, that it would be a surprise. So 
she remained silent and waited for Reggie to bestow her precious gift.
Christmas was upon them and Kristian had contemplated what to make Dean. 
Finally, she had settled upon making him a few new shirts. She favored black on 
him and made him two different black shirts. One had two rows of buttons down 
the sides of his chest, in mimic of the union army. The other would be pulled 
over the head and laced up at the neck, in the same style as his wedding shirt. 
Wanting to add just a little color to his wardrobe, she found a deep blue cotton 
at the mercantile in town and made a simple button-up for the third gift.
The love Kristian felt for Dean grew stronger with each passing day. She had yet 
to tell him. He had been willing to marry her, but only for propriety. She 
couldn't admit her feelings to him and not have them returned. She was afraid to 
give him that leverage.
Her guilt also grew more with each day. Every action he did reminded her of 
Robbie. The habit of scratching his chin when deep in thought was an exact copy. 
She found no explanation for this constant reminder but felt extremely guilty 
for comparing him to a man long dead. She marveled over the similarities between 
Dean and him. Had fate stepped in and had pity upon her? Or had God simply 
created two men so alike in their ways? She found no answers to her questions. 
All she knew was that Robbie was dead and Dean was alive, and he was her 
husband.
Feeling a pair of masculine hands clasp her upper arms, Kristian jumped. So deep 
in thought she hadn't heard him arise from their bed.
Feeling his lips on her ear Kristian shivered.
"You got up." His growl came from low in his belly and Kristian couldn't help 
but laugh at the meaning of his words.
"That is what one usually does in the morning."
Smacking her bottom playfully through the layered quilt, Dean laughed aloud. "I 
suppose it is."
When she said no more, he asked, "What are you thinking about?"
"What month our baby will be born."
Spinning her around by her shoulders, Dean gazed into her eyes, searching for 
truth. "What do you mean?"
Biting her lower lip to try and hide the laughter, Kristian responded just as 
gravely.
"I mean we shall have a child late in the summer, I believe."
"Are you sure?" A smile played on his face, but uncertainty made it lurk.
"Well I've I haven't been having my cycles, so I'm pretty sure."
Letting out a whoop of delight, Dean picked her up and swung her around. "Glory, 
glory Kristian!"
Suddenly stopping in mid air, Dean looked at her as though mortified of his 
actions. Setting her down with exaggerated motions of caution, he turned and 
began tugging on a pair of trousers.
"What are you doing?" Kristian frowned, she had thought he'd make love to her 
again.
"I've got to tell Reggie. She'll be ecstatic." He slammed his hat haphazardly on 
his head. "And Lupe, she doesn't know yet does she?" Without waiting for a 
response from Kristian, he grabbed a shirt and stuffed his arms through the 
holes. Without bothering to button it, he threw open the door and began yelling 
his joy.
Sitting down on the bed, Kristian stared at the gaping door for a moment. That 
man never reacted like he was supposed to. But then, laughter bubbled forth and 
before she knew it she was laying back on the bed laughing uncontrollably. He 
was happy; what else could she ask for?
Wiping at the tears that had formed from her hard laugh, Kristian sat up and 
prepared herself for the inevitable onslaught of congratulations. She knew that 
as soon as the others heard her bedroom would be invaded.
Sure enough, before the thought had even finished she could hear them coming. 
Reggie's galloping steps tromping down the hall and Lupe's rapid Spanish flowing 
out in a merry tone. As expected she could even hear Cowboy congratulating Dean 
as they all came to find her. What a wonderful life she had.
CHAPTER 26
Christmas was only days away. The snow outside their frosting windows flew in a 
flurry of opaque clouds of white. The large forms of the barn and house could be 
made out, but to be safe the ends of a rope had been stretched and attached to 
both. In case the flying snow blinded a person they could still find their way 
back and forth.
The hands all stayed inside the humid warmth of the barn. A small brazier had 
been brought in to help warm the building. Kept on the main floor, the hands 
made sure the surrounding area was free of straw or any other fire hazard. They 
didn't relish the prospect of losing their warm abode.
The cattle out in the valley were in the safest spot available at the moment. 
Kristian and Dean could only hope they wouldn't suffocate or freeze. Until the 
blizzard blew over, no one's life would be risked on rescuing the animals. 
Kristian prayed daily for the ignorant things. She didn't want to think of how 
tight next year would be if she lost the majority of the herd.
Reggie spent her snow bound days with her mother. The two had several new bolts 
of colorful broadcloth and calico to make things with. Dean had thoughtfully 
including soft white cotton and small trim lace for undergarments. Kristian 
taught the little girl how to embroider and together they created quite a 
selection of dresses for her.
The only thing Reggie missed, she informed them, were ribbons. She wanted 
ribbons for her hair and dresses. She openly mourned for the simple decorations.
Sitting before the blazing fire, a finished shirt in hand, Kristian supervised 
Reggie's embroidery stitches. The little girl was quite a natural, Kristian 
noted. Reggie seemed thrilled with her new ability and progressed to creating 
bees and butterflies hovering above small delicate flowers.
Kristian looked back at her own simple pattern of ivy and smiled wryly. She 
remembered her mother forcing her to sit and stitch. How she had hated it, 
longing to run free and follow along after her father instead. Reggie seemed to 
take to the finer points of female arts better than she ever had.
"Very nice, Reggie," Kristian encouraged.
She looked up at her mother, a smile of pride beaming across her petite 
features.
Just at that moment the door to the house burst open. A sudden whoosh of 
chilling air swept around them, sending a shiver down Kristian's back. Standing, 
she pulled her shawl firmly around her delicate shoulders. Dean's looming form 
filled the doorway, as he backed into the house. Kristian noticed, with a small 
degree of irritation, the amount of snow that had blown into the interior of the 
house and settled upon the floor around the door.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to Dean, curiosity overruling the 
agitation. As he stepped farther into the house, she noticed with delight that 
he carried a tree. It was covered in snow and dropped little white offerings 
with every step. Something lying beneath the snow added a deformed look to the 
branches but because of the coating Kristian couldn't tell what it was.
Cowboy followed Dean, carrying the trunk buried in a bucket of rocks. Where the 
two had found rocks under all this snow, she didn't know. A smile split across 
her face at the thought of the two men out attempting to cut down a tree in a 
blizzard, hands freezing and cussing a blue streak.
Setting the festive decoration down at the side of the room, Dean brushed his 
gloved hands over the mass. She shook her head at the indifference the man 
showed as more snow fell onto the wooden floor.
Kristian felt a frozen finger of air brush down her spine again and remembered 
the door still stood open. With great effort she pushed it shut, closing the 
howling wind out. Slamming the bolt firmly home, she leaned against the heavy 
door for a moment, her cheeks red from the slight exposure.
When Dean stepped aside from the tree, his chest puffed out in pride and 
expected appreciation shown in his eyes. His black hat was piled high with 
little flakes of snow and mud covered his legs up to mid calf. Despite his 
obvious struggle to produce a tree, Dean placed his hands on his hips and 
smiled. Kristian bit her lower lip to keep from laughing aloud at his stance. He 
reminded her much of a strutting male peacock.
Tearing her eyes away from her magnificent husband, she eyed the perfectly 
shaped tree with a bell shaped bottom that tapered to a point at the top. It was 
bedecked with ribbons in every imaginable color. The little fragile bows frozen 
from the elements seemed to sparkle with crystals. Kristian met Dean's silver 
eyes and felt a tremor of anticipation shake her. She couldn't help but remember 
her life only a year ago.
Standing behind Dean, Reggie hadn't seen the surprise yet. But now, as he moved 
aside, her eyes rounded in disbelief. Giving a squeal of happiness, she launched 
into his arms.
"Thank you. Oh, thank you, Dean. This is wonderful!" she gushed forth. "We 
haven't had a tree for Christmas forever. Ribbons! You got me ribbons!"
Standing a little apart, Kristian observed the interplay between the two. Good 
heavens, she thought, you could mistake him for her father. They both shared the 
unruly black hair, stubborn jaws and straight slim noses.
Funny, she pondered, his scars hardly caught her attention. Even from the 
beginning, since she discovered what lay beneath his mysterious black hat, 
Kristian had saw past the disfiguring marks. The war had done damage to both 
sides, it mattered not anymore.
Touching Dean's elbow, she smiled up into his glorious eyes. "Thank you."
Bestowing his crooked smile on her, Dean drawled, "Anything for my girls."
Reggie giggled at this as she wiggled from his arms. The two adults watched her 
circle the tree, eyes wide in appreciation. "Can I have a green ribbon to wear 
in my hair today?" She already had a hand tugging the frozen bow from its perch.
"Of course," Dean agreed. "They will all be yours as soon as Christmas passes 
and we take down the tree."
"Really?" Her eyes widened again.
"Sure, you said you wanted ribbons. Well, now you got ribbons."
As Reggie went on to explain which ribbon she would use for what, Kristian 
walked to the window and gazed out at the falling snow. Dean watched her, 
drinking in every move she made. Her shoulders drooped and her eyes took on a 
dull, absent glaze. Forlornly, she gazed out the frosted glass but he knew she 
didn't focus on anything in front of her. Must be thinking about the baby, he 
decided.
She was still an active partner in the bedroom. In fact it seemed as if neither 
could stand to wait until nightfall to make love again. Several times they 
didn't wait.
Dean had known he still loved Kristian when he came looking for her, despite the 
questions he harbored. But everyday that he spent with her, he realized it was a 
different love than before. When they had been living in Virginia before the 
war, their love had been an innocent, naïve. Now it was deeper.
Kristian fascinated him and constantly amazed him with her abilities. She not 
only was a competent mother but a very smart rancher. He often spent the 
evenings discussing the ranch's business with her.
Although, Dean felt sure that he'd have been happy marrying her had the war 
never been, he knew he'd be even happier now. She was shaped from the past she 
lived. Although he wished he could take away all the horrible experiences for 
her, he loved who she'd become.
He delighted in learning her likes and dislikes. Exploring her thoughts and 
motivations. Even when he reached a ripe old age he'd never know all the facets 
of her personality. And he loved it.
The only real concern he had was her behavior in the last few days. After they 
made love, whether it be late at night or early in the morning, she rolled away 
from him, shutting him out.
But watching her now, her face pale and her eyes clouded, he knew he'd been 
wrong. What bothered her, he didn't know. Before the night was over, regardless 
of the outcome, he would find out.
***
Taking the steps two at a time, Dean strode towards the bedroom door. Kristian 
had remained distant the whole evening. Several times he had sensed her staring 
at him, melancholy darkening her eyes, but when he met her gaze she would 
quickly look away. He didn't know what was going on but he was damn well going 
to find out.
He gripped the doorknob and twisted it with all his pent up frustrations. His 
lips pursed tightly, determination winding him up. His eyes scanned the room, 
searching her out. As the flickering firelight lit up the room, his welled 
emotions drained away. The door shut soundlessly behind him, although he didn't 
recall moving. All his thoughts centered around the naked woman, propped 
playfully up on her elbows.
His eyes raked up her body, starting at the tips of her toes, sliding up her 
bent knees and ending at the saucy smile twitching her lips. His body responded 
immediately, springing to life.
"You took long enough,Undertaker ," she teased him. "I thought you were the 
fastest in the west."
With a feral growl, Dean carelessly stripped his clothes. The garments dropped 
from his hands, heedless of where they fell. His mind was filled with Kristian 
and the pleasures only she could bring him. Her scent filled his nostrils, her 
beautiful form funneling his vision.
"Not fast with everything darlin', I promise."
With predator-like movements, he climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees. 
Crawling towards her, his gray eyes changed to silver with passion. Kristian 
would have been scared if she'd seen him like this the first night they'd been 
together or known what that silver color signified. Now though, she knew her 
sweet stranger and wasn't afraid of his passions. Welcoming him with open arms, 
Kristian absorbed his hard planes into her soft curves.
Dean's intentions of speaking with her forgotten until they had both sated 
themselves. But when Kristian rolled to her side of the bed, offering her back 
to him all his previous grievances returned full force. His mouth tightened into 
a hard line.
Firmly, he turned her over to face him. From the pale light of the dying fire 
Dean could see the surprise in her eyes.
"Kristian I want to know what is going on."
She bit her lower lip between her teeth and quietly responded, "I don't have any 
idea what you mean Dean."
Thoughtfully he narrowed his eyes. Was she kidding? Did she not know what she 
was doing? "Every night you roll away from me and I want to know why."
Under no circumstances could she tell him the truth. What man would want to hear 
that he reminded his wife of a former lover? Not any she knew of. And even if he 
could take it, Kristian couldn't hurt Dean like that.
Forcing a smile onto her lips, she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd want 
to be close afterwards."
"Well," he sputtered, "Of course I do." He didn't know what else to say. He knew 
that there was more to it than she was telling him but would it really do any 
good to force her? For tonight he would just hold her and maybe she would open 
up to him on her own. Give him solid answers. Seemed forever that he was waiting 
on answers from Kristian.
***
Some time in the black of night Dean awoke to a noise. He lay very still. His 
breathing measured and even, not giving any indications of being aroused. His 
hands itched for his Colts. Questions surged through him. Had the Howard's 
somehow found him and forced their way inside? Was Reggie unharmed?
Then he heard it. Kristian sniffled. She was crying.
He relaxed. Turned his head and stared at her back. She was still naked. The 
little bit of moonlight emitted from the curtains fell across her bare 
shoulders. The pale slice revealed her shaking, the slight tremor of the bed 
backing it up.
She sniffled again.
Turning, he propped himself up on his elbow. He knew she felt him move, for she 
stiffened and quieted her lowly keen of pain.
Kristian squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. Please, she silently 
prayed, let him go back to sleep. Don't let him speak or ask questions. She 
couldn't be truthful with him. Couldn't tell him how sorrowful she felt that a 
dead man refused to be left in the past.
Then his rough hand came to rest on her upper arm, smoothing up over her 
shoulder. She sighed, he would ask, he would badger. And what was she to say? 
She'd been caught.
Once again he pulled on her shoulder gently turning her over. Stroking her wet 
face, he asked, "Now, surely it wasn't that bad, was it?"
Sniffling loudly, she took a moment to answer. Then his words took on meaning. 
"It, it isn't that. You were very, uh, good." Kristian knew he spoke of their 
lovemaking.
She felt the chuckle low in his chest.
"Well I suppose that will have to pet my ego because you certainly aren't going 
to elaborate are you, sweetheart?" He could almost feel the blush on her, 
causing him to chuckle a little more.
He stroked her hair in silence for a while and when he thought she was strong 
enough to be honest he asked again, "What is it, my love?"
Love? Had he said love? Surely he had meant it figuratively, just an endearment. 
Maybe he was just being kind to her, to make her feel better, yes. That had to 
be it, surely he didn't...
"Kristian! I asked you what is wrong?" He hovered just above her face, perched 
on both elbows.
She knew she needed to confide in him. It simply wasn't to be avoided. Honestly, 
she didn't know how to tell him such a problem as hers. He wouldn't be happy, 
that was a definite conclusion. What worried her most was his immediate 
reaction.
With the decision to confess came the uncertainty of how. Her brow furrowed as 
she searched for the right words, gentle words. Finally, with great hesitance, 
she began, "I told you that I had allowed but one man to make love to me."
"Yes," he replied impatiently. "I told you that doesn't matter to me." His 
stroking at her temples stopped abruptly. He didn't like the angle this was 
taking.
She smiled at his impatience in the matter as well as his understanding. She 
wasn't naïve enough to believe it mattered nothing to him that she had lain with 
another. But she loved him all the more for it.
"You...Well, Dean," she paused taking a deep breath for strength. If she waited 
a moment longer she knew she'd lose her nerve to be honest.
"You remind me of him," she blurt out.
His gaze burrowed into her skin. She knew without looking that his endless 
silver eyes had turned hard as granite. She couldn't blame him. She awaited the 
scorn that would surely come. She would miss his tender love so much.
"I see," he said pensively. "So when I make love to you, I remind you of your 
first love?"
Sucking in a deep gust of air and letting it out in a long sigh, she nodded her 
head. "Yes. And then I begin to think about him, and I feel...I'm, I'm sorry 
Dean. I don't mean to hurt you." She felt tears start to pool in her eyes and 
made no move to hide them.
While she waited for his contempt Dean examined his own guilt. He needed to tell 
her the truth. But he feared she would never forgive him now. He had waited too 
long. Under no circumstances was he willing to risk losing Kristian or Reggie. 
Even if it meant allowing Kristian to think herself wrong.
He felt nauseated by his own cowardice. All he was able to utter was, "I 
understand." Then he gathered her into his arms and rolled to his back, pulling 
her with him.
She was stunned. Either this man was absolutely irreplaceable or a total fool. 
Who could honestly tell their newly married husband such a thing and not be 
beaten black and blue? On the same token she was a bit suspicious of such 
understanding.
Pushing away from him, she raised herself up and peered down into his face. She 
narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the inky blackness surrounding them.
"That's it?" the disbelief plain in her voice. "Youunderstand ?"
"What else would you like me to do? That is something I cannot change. You will 
come to accept me for me and nothing more. Until then I am content to wait."
Censure assailed her. She had suspected his motives when, in truth, he was only 
being understanding. And very patient.
Falling upon his chest, she pressed her face into his neck. She inhaled deeply 
of the pine odor that always surrounded him.
"You are more than I deserve, Dean," she whispered.
He could feel her breath upon his ear and the watery tribute of a tear as it 
dropped from her nose to land on his skin. Shivers raised down his lean body. 
Turning his head to look at her, he gravely answered, "No. It is I who do not 
deserve you. Robbie...he was a lucky man to have your heart. You are a wonderful 
woman and merit much more than I'll ever be able to give you. I love you, 
Kristian. I love you more with every breath I take."
Passionately he claimed her mouth, bringing all the things he couldn't tell her 
into his intensity. Fiercely he delved his tongue again and again into her sweet 
mouth until the rhythm resembled the smooth thrust of lovemaking.
Lowering her onto her back his mouth disengaged only to profess his ardor to her 
rosy nipples. He suckled until she was writhing beneath him and her fingers 
pulled at his back.
"Please, Dean! Make love to me!" she implored.
She gasped with delight when he immediately entered her. His ruby head immersed 
into her hidden delights over and over. Holding off his own satisfaction until 
she cried out in the throes of completion. With one final powerful drive of his 
hips, Dean shouted with relief as he found his own release. Collapsing beside 
her, he drew her into his arms. They clung together, whispering their love until 
neither was awake.
CHAPTER 27
"Higher Dean. Higher," Reggie balanced precariously in Dean's outstretched arms. 
In her hands she held a beautiful angel, made from dried cornhusk and 
imagination.
"I'm trying darlin'." Dean chuckled. His arms were already stretched about as 
far as possible and he knew Reggie could easily have placed the angel atop the 
tree. She, however, was enjoying the game far more than the actual event.
Kristian smiled as she watched the two ornery troublemakers. Reggie had wrapped 
Dean around her little pinky from the first. And Dean had won Reggie over like 
no other. When finally the much ado ended. The angel perched on the very top of 
the tree slightly crooked, but no one noticed. The beauty of the decoration 
combined with the love surrounding the merry group far outweighed any 
imperfections.
Kristian eyed the tree, satisfied with the results. Cut out pieces of tin strung 
with sewing floss hung from every available branch. Dean and Cowboy had managed 
to create small contraptions to safely place the candles in. The strands of 
holly berries that Lupe, Kristian and Reggie had made added a bright dash of 
color to the festive tree.
Kristian gazed up at the angel Reggie had labored over. The light blue dress the 
doll wore was embroidered with silver thread Dean had somehow managed to obtain. 
Yellow yarn decorated the stuffed cornhusk head and drawn on facial features 
brought the adornment to life. More fragile cornhusks were used to cut wings. 
The finishing project was dazzling. The flickering candlelight danced off the 
iridescent silver thread.
Reggie was showing quite a talent for creative aspects. Kristian looked forward 
to the gift exchange later. She had managed to buy some gossamer fabric for 
Reggie and her to make a fine Sunday dress with. There might even be enough left 
over to make a few miniature dresses for a doll.
"What do you say, Kristian?"
Dean's voice interrupted her deep thoughts and she smiled in confusion.
"You caught me daydreaming." Giggling, she admitted, "I wasn't paying attention. 
What did you say?"
"Reggie would like to go ahead and exchange gifts."
Kristian took in the jumping girl behind Dean. This was the first year in her 
life that she would actually experience all Christmas had to offer. Throughout 
her young life, Kristian had carefully taught Reggie about the spirit of 
Christmas. But seeing her excited five-year-old jump up and down with 
unadulterated anticipation reminded Kristian of her own childhood.
"Well," Kristian dragged out.
The expected reaction was elicited from Reggie. She immediately ran to Kristian 
and threw her little arms around her mother's waist. Looking up with shining 
emerald eyes that mirrored her mother's, Reggie begged, "Oh please Mama. I think 
I'm going to be sick if we don't."
Kristian couldn't hold back the burst of laughter. "Of course, I wouldn't dream 
of causing you to be ill," she replied with utmost seriousness.
Reggie's eyes went round and she bounded out of the room yelling for Lupe. "Mama 
said we could open our presents! Lupe, Cowboy, come on!"
Kristian and Dean's tender gazes met and held. Without saying a word, the two 
came together and exchanged a brief kiss. With her arms wrapped tightly around 
his waist and his slung across her petite shoulders they waited for the rest of 
their small party to join them.
Reggie appeared first, pulling on Lupe's chubby hands. The older woman spoke in 
rapid Spanish over her shoulder and shortly Cowboy hobbled in after them. Reggie 
helped Kristian distribute the carefully wrapped brown packages. The adults eyed 
the presents with awe; such a bounty for all was unusual.
Lupe gave Cowboy a new rope. The old hand stammered a thank you and immediately 
fiddled with the size of the loop. Sliding the lasso from larger to smaller and 
back again, Cowboy beamed down at the gift with obvious pleasure.
In return, Lupe received a mother of pearl watch that pinned to the bodice of 
her shirt. She broke into a surprising maiden blush and gave him a small peck on 
the cheek. Looking down into her folded hands, she mumbled, "Gracias mi amor."
Cowboy seemed extremely pleased by this simple exchange. His slightly concave 
chest puffed out in pleasure and pride. A huge toothy grin remained on his face 
for the night.
Kristian and Reggie had made a shirt for Lupe. It was made in the loose flowing 
style the older woman always wore. Reggie had embroidered a beautiful pattern of 
yellow sunflowers and striped bumblebees around the relaxed collar. Kristian had 
liked the style of shirt so much she received one from Reggie also.
Dean loved the shirts Kristian had sewed for him. They fit perfectly. He 
fingered the new cotton handkerchiefs that Reggie had monogrammed with his 
initials, RDW. His face contorted with tight emotion.
Suddenly Dean stood and left the room. When he returned he wore his heavy coat 
and asked Cowboy to give him a hand. The two men quickly left out the front 
door. Before the door had completely shut Lupe silently ascended the stairs.
Reggie and Kristian, sitting on the floor, looked at each other with obvious 
confusion. What had gotten into everyone?
"Mama, I haven't opened mine yet," Reggie voiced, tears beginning to collect in 
her eyes.
Smoothing her hand across the crown of Reggie's wavy black hair, Kristian nodded 
and tried to think of something comforting to say.
She was saved when the door burst back on its hinges. The two men came back in 
beaming like lunatics. Kristian looked up at Dean and then to what he carried 
and smiled. The man had a way of surprising people.
Striding towards Kristian, Dean proudly plunked down a brand new rocking chair. 
It was larger than Kristian had ever seen before and wondered if it was meant 
for two. Cowboy set another one down beside it. This one was even larger than 
the first. Kristian wasn't sure what to say.
The men each picked up one of the older, crudely made chairs that had sufficed 
for prior years and left. Reggie jumped up and scrambled into one of the wooden 
treasures.
The chairs really were beautiful. Kristian knew without asking that Dean had 
made them. His craftsmanship was impeccable. The design that graced the arms and 
headrest of the rockers made a pattern of swirls. The decorative design was not 
made to 'be' anything, it was simply meant to please the eye. The dips and turns 
flowed smoothly. Smiling at the thoughtful gift Kristian arose to try one out.
Before she had a chance Dean and Cowboy returned. This time they held an end of 
a very long chair. Kristian wasn't sure but it looked like the settees that they 
used to have at her parent's home. Anxiously waiting for the furniture to be set 
down, Kristian leaned over Dean's shoulder to look.
Dean was very pleased by Kristian's reaction to his gifts. He had thought hard 
about what to give Kristian and Reggie; it had to be something special. Once 
he'd decided, he'd went right to work.
Cautiously centering the divan in front of the fireplace, the two men deposited 
the new seating. The two rocking chairs were set at each end of the divan. 
Reggie squealed and laughed gaily when Cowboy moved the chair she sat in.
When the men left another time carrying with them the rough-hewn lamp tables 
Kristian wasn't surprised. They returned a final time bringing with them a pair 
of matching end tables and a smaller rocking chair.
Kristian stood in minor shock, surveying the bounty Dean had just graced her 
with. She knew he must have worked for months on these. She carefully studied 
each piece of work, noting each grain of wood, each stroke made by his loving 
hands.
The divan was splendid with dark blue velvet cushions. Small gold tacks attached 
the cushions permanently to the furnishing. Large claw feet adorned it, the 
sporadic swirls in the headrest added to the over all beauty. The magnificence 
of the matching set left Kristian speechless.
Lupe bustled into the room, her arms burgeoning with more dark blue velvet 
cushions. Carefully she lay the set on the couch and proceeded to push the pads 
into the seats and backs of the rocking chairs. The effect caused the once 
overwhelming size of the chairs to look inviting and comfortable.
Reggie burrowed down into one and literally purred her contentment. Kristian's 
eyes overflowed with blissful tears. Never had she received such a lovely gift.
Crossing the room in a sweep of skirts, she flung herself into Dean's arms.
"Thank you, my love! Thank you."
Dean wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted Kristian up to his level. She 
buried her face into his fragrant neck and sniffled comically.
"Mama," Reggie interrupted, unaware of the moment she disturbed. "Can I open my 
gifts now?"
All the adults in the room erupted into relieved laughter. Dean set Kristian 
down on her feet and gazed deeply into her eyes. Offering only an impudent 
smile, she turned and smiled warmly at her daughter. Reggie was allowed to 
finally open her own gifts. She received many thoughtful presents but the one 
she treasured the most was the one from Dean. Unwrapping the precious pink 
tissue from around the gift, she remained unusually silent. Her little hands 
slow for the first time the whole night, she worshipfully pushed aside the 
paper, careful not to rip it.
When at last she cleared all the hindrance from her view she sat and looked into 
the box for such a long time that everyone stopped talking. With slow, 
deliberate reverence, she pulled a beautiful porcelain doll with wavy black hair 
and emerald green eyes from the depths.
Hugging the doll to her tiny chest, Reggie closed her eyes and turned her head 
into the doll's hair.
"Reggie?" Kristian queried. Reggie had never had a real doll.
When Reggie looked up tears were sliding down her chubby cheeks. Within seconds 
she leaped into Dean's open arms. He silently began to rock back and forth, 
cradling her in his arms.
After a short while a muffled, "Thank you, Pa," was heard from the little girl.
Dean paused his movement for a moment, then a huge grin formed on his mangled 
features and he simply replied, "You're welcome."
CHAPTER 28
Christmas dawned on a perfect day. The snow still blew but the blizzard had 
finally passed. Hues of blush, crimson, and vermilion danced atop the white 
powder, reflecting the early morning sun.
Kristian awoke to Dean's soft lips feathering kisses upon her face. Opening her 
eyes, she smiled at the colorful splendor radiating in from the window. It 
reminded her of the church's stained glass windows before the war.
Dean had much more gratifying ideas on his mind and reached around her to cup 
her petite derriere. Before anything more could transpire, Kristian slipped out 
of his arms and arose from the bed. Standing just next to the edge, she slipped 
the seldom- used nightgown over her head to keep warm.
"Stay in bed," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion.
Kristian smiled knowingly at him and shook her head. "I need to get downstairs 
and help Lupe. I know she's already down there working."
"I'm sure to Cowboy's loss," Dean replied dryly.
Kristian turned rounded eyes to him. "You don't think --"
"No, I know. They've been sharing a bed for a short time now."
"Well," Kristian was caught off guard by this news. It wasn't that she was 
shocked but that she hadn't known about it. She had obtained an abrupt and rude 
education of such matters from Buck.
Dean recognized her expression and gave her a lopsided grin. "Don't worry love." 
Rising to his knees, he crawled to her. He grasped her hips, raising the thin 
muslin with his teeth. Bunching the material in his fists he placed little token 
kisses of adoration across her bare navel.
"They are both adults darlin'," he played his southern drawl to the hilt, 
knowing that she loved it. "What man can resist female charms?" Slowly he 
swirled his tongue around her belly button, dipping in and out of the hidden 
crescent. "I, for one, cannot. At least, when it comes to you."
He trailed up the middle of her body, leaving a wet hot trail of desire in his 
wake. When he passed between the delicate valley of her breasts, he paused to 
tongue her nipples into hard peaks. With a low feral growl of arousal he 
tenderly nibbled at her collarbone, then licked the love marks he left behind.
Kristian's head fell back as he laid claim to her neck. Her earlier inclination 
to help Lupe escaped her mind. She felt intoxicated by his tender ministrations. 
Her body burned with the fire he built inside of her.
When he reached her lips and began to press them with his own, she grasped his 
shoulders and kissed him back. Grinding her hips against his hard masculine 
shaft she celebrated in the fact that she felt no fear.
Trailing her hand down his broad back, she clasped his hard buttocks in each 
hand and tenderly squeezed. She swallowed the low moan elicited from him and 
reveled in the tender thrusts of his tongue. She could feel his heavy breathing 
fall across her cheek and knew he was close to the breaking point.
His hard rod pressed against her soft middle and Kristian ran her hand down the 
planes of his sinewy torso. She loved the feel of the crisp black hairs on his 
chest as they curled around her fingers.
She lightly traced the defined indentions of the muscles lining his abdomen. 
Following the single line of coal black hair that divided his hard body in 
perfect halves, she gently skimmed his erection. She outlined the shiny head 
with the tips of her fingers.
His kisses were demanding and deep and never before had she welcomed them so 
much. His tongue traced the former path of his lips, laving her rosy nipples 
until they puckered with extreme delight. Her moans of pleasure drove him to a 
higher passion than ever before but when she enclosed him in her fist he was 
lost.
Past the point of restraint, Dean used both hands to rip the bunched nightgown 
in two. Kristian gasped and froze. The two lovers stared at each other with mute 
surprise. Mentally, Kristian took account of every novice of her body and found 
she felt nothing but arousal. Smiling at Dean, she jerked her arms from the 
sleeves, helping him to rid her of the unwanted nuisance.
Dean remained still, searching her face for any signs of fear. Finding none, he 
took his emotions in hand and gently pulled her back down onto the bed. Still 
slightly apprehensive of her reaction he laid down upon his back. With little 
effort he lifted her and impaled himself within her body, uniting them as one.
Kristian cried out, throwing her head back with abandonment. Grasping her hips, 
he lifted and lowered her again and again. She leaned forward, bracing her hands 
by his head, and tried to follow his lead. Directing the movements with his 
hands, Dean encouraged her. Her silky chestnut hair fell around his face like a 
curtain. Lavender assailed his senses. Silver and emerald eyes met and held.
When he could no longer hold himself back Dean reversed their positions. 
Although Kristian mumbled her disagreement she welcomed his powerful thrusts and 
it wasn't long before she shuddered with completion. Feeling her muscles tighten 
around him, Dean quickly joined her.
As soon as they had caught their breath she slipped from under him and padded to 
the wash stand. She wasn't the least startled when his large hands skimmed her 
shoulders.
Rinsing the wet rag, she began to cleanse herself but Dean grasped her wrist and 
took the washrag from her. With tender touches, he washed every inch of her 
body, at times using his tongue rather than the rag. When at last the task was 
complete Dean stood up and kissed her once more.
Breaking away he gazed at her, love filling the depths of his pewter eyes. A 
sparkle of mischief arose there and he smiled shamelessly.
"Well, I have to say darlin', that was the best damn present I ever did 
receive!"
Laughter bubbling forth, Kristian swatted at him and turned her face into his 
chest. "Me, too!"
***
All the hands were invited to the main house for lunch to celebrate the holiday. 
Kristian had never extended this invitation before because of fear. But Dean 
made her feel safe and loved, and no longer would she be held by the shadows of 
her past.
Kristian and Lupe both felt sticky with sweat from working over the hot stove 
all morning. Wiping her brow with the back of her floured hand Kristian finished 
up the giblet gravy. Lupe bustled back and forth from the long table Dean and 
Cowboy had erected.
The men all showed up just before noon. Their hair was slicked back, frozen from 
the walk to the house and several had nicks on their chins and necks from 
shaving. Kristian's eyes were bright as she greeted each one.
Both women were ready to drop with exhaustion and took immense pleasure in the 
men's greedy smiles as they gazed upon the feast. The main dish was a stuffed 
turkey Dean had cured several months' back to save for this very day. Green 
beans fried in bacon drippings and flavored liberally with onions, salt and 
pepper. Butternut squash, from Kristian's garden, cooked slowly with sugar and 
rich butter filling the hollowed out pit in the center. Mounds of creamy white 
potatoes filled several large bowls with giblet gravy standing in wait.
Endless bread and freshly churned butter circled the table. To drink, Lupe had 
made one of her flavored 'teas' of unknown ingredients.
For dessert, three different pies had been made pumpkin, vinegar and mincemeat. 
The men licked their lips at the sweet offering and moaned with utter indulgence 
with the sight of the freshly whipped cream. Such delectable food was not the 
hands' usual chow. They ate slowly, enjoying each flavorful bite.
After the meal was finished all seven of them leaned back in their chairs 
holding their stomachs. When Dean suggested that they clean up the kitchen for 
the two women, more than one looked hard at him to judge his seriousness. They 
were used to their own sorry cooking and cleaning but in here, they had just 
assumed, was a woman's domain.
When Dean arose and began clearing away plates the hands glanced nervously at 
each other. Cowboy began to help Dean, holding the plates with an expression of 
disgust on his weathered face. One by one, the hands reluctantly joined in.
Rising from the table, the women grinned conspiratorially at each other. 
Kristian took Reggie's hand and followed Lupe into the living room. Taking seats 
among the new furnishings the woman quietly rocked back and forth relishing the 
fact that grown men cleaned their filthy kitchen.
CHAPTER 29
Dean caressed Kristian's still flat stomach with the palm of his hand. Drawing 
the covers away from her body, he lowered his head to place affectionate kisses 
randomly across her abdomen.
"When will you begin to swell with the baby?" he asked between the tender 
tributes.
Kristian reveled in the sweet torture caused by his lips upon her flesh. No 
matter how often they made love it never eased her desire for him.
Tenderly stroking his dark hair, she replied in hushed tones, "In a month or two 
I suppose."
"Is that what happened when you carried Reggie?" Dean rested his head on her 
stomach and began running his hands over her thighs.
Kristian chewed on her lower lip. "It was different with Reggie." Her voice was 
quiet and small, instantly drawing his attention. Although the distress in her 
words caused more concern than her volume, Dean raised his head and gazed into 
her emerald eyes.
She was unable to hide the tears forming from the memories welling inside. 
Rising on his elbows to lean over her, Dean pulled Kristian into his strong 
embrace.
"Tell me." The request was simple but Kristian knew he would not allow her to 
avoid the answer.
Pulling away, she scooted up on the sheets to lean against the headboard. 
Gripping the lavender scented sheets in her fists, she dragged it up to cover 
her naked breasts. Holding it firmly to her chest like a shield, Kristian began 
her tale.
"We didn't have much to eat then and we certainly didn't live in this house." 
She gave a small brittle laugh but it fell heavily into the silence.
"For a while we would stay in the empty homes of southerners that had departed 
for better places. Eventually the returning soldiers caused more problems than 
Buck was willing to deal with. So he sold everything, which wasn't much, but he 
was able to buy a buckboard with the profit." Her voice trailed off for a moment 
and Dean remained still and quiet, watching her closely as memories flitted 
across her face. Pain etched into the tiny lines surrounding her mouth and her 
emerald eyes turned hard and listless.
"The nights began to get colder and colder. Buck didn't like to hear complaints 
so I kept them to myself. Sometimes I actually prayed that we'd be attacked by 
Indians just so I could escape."
"Buck and Broody took to gambling more than before and we never had any money 
for food or a room. Emily, she was Buck's sister, loved the excitement that each 
town brought. I hated it. While Buck was off playing poker, dirty men would try 
to...To use me. When I started showing my condition men didn't want me so I 
didn't have to hide anymore."
"Towards the end of February, Buck got this place," she waved her hands 
indicating the house. "Ironically, in a game of poker. While he was dry and warm 
inside a saloon wasting away all the money we had, I was lying in the back of 
that buckboard having Reggie." Unconsciously, Kristian ran her hand over her 
abdomen, thinking of the child tucked safely inside.
"I did the best I could to clean myself and Reggie up, after the birth I mean, 
but I just kept bleeding. Buck was madder than hell when he found me, ranting 
and raving that he'd have to pay a doctor to look at me now. As if it were my 
fault in some odd way."
Dean closed the small space between them, engulfing her in his solid arms. 
Without saying a word he hoped to reassure her and enable her to finish her 
story.
"Emily died that same night and Buck was irritated with her for dying, but I 
think that was his way of grieving. He insisted that she had to be buried in 
town,properly ." A small snort of contempt escaped her constricted throat.
"Do you know he never even asked if Reggie was a girl or boy until two or three 
days later?"
Tears ran freely down her cheeks and Dean did his best to wipe them up. His 
voice was low and soft when he spoke, "Why did Buck want to bury her in town?" 
This seemed very incongruous with what he had learned about Buck.
"She died trying to birth a babe, a babe that most likely was his." Briefly, she 
closed her eyes, reliving the horror of that night. "I tried to help her but I 
was in labor myself and --"
Dean placed a finger to her quivering lips and kissed her upturned nose.
With a short half-hearted laugh, Kristian met his gaze. "I love you."
A crooked smile formed on his full lips. He gazed deep into her eyes, pleased to 
see the healthy shine returning to them. Her dense long eyelashes lowered 
seductively, even though Dean knew she wasn't being coy. Kristian was the kind 
of woman that couldn't help but appeal to men. She was made to love and make 
love to.
"And I," he placed another kiss on her tear laden nose. "Love you."
***
It wasn't until much later as he worked outside that Dean thought of Kristian's 
story again. Not for the first time he wished that Buck were still alive so he 
could be the one to put him six feet under. But the deed was already done and 
that was what counted. No way could he have allowed a man like that to remain 
married to Kristian. He would have crossed that fine line between hunter to the 
hunted for her.
And for Reggie. Reggie was wonderful. She was all he'd have ever wanted in a 
daughter. In fact at times he forgot that she wasn't his. Her characteristics 
reminded him of his own and at times he fancied himself her true father. But she 
wasn't and that was something that couldn't be changed either.
If she was born in February then her birthday would be upon them soon. Pausing 
in his task, Dean rubbed his head and contemplated what to get her for her 
birthday.
Then suddenly, a thought passed through his mind and he froze. The blood flowing 
through his veins turned to ice. He struggled to fill his lungs with air, his 
throat suddenly clamped shut.
February. February. That meant Kristian became pregnant in...He silently counted 
out the months... May. May!
He dropped his pitchfork, not caring where it fell, and ate up the distance 
between the house and barn. Being late in January the snow had stopped coming 
down about a week before but remained packed on the ground. The sound of his 
steps echoed off the silent walls of the mountain as he stomped forward.
Nothing distracted him from his target as he focused his whole being on the 
front door of the house. He could see the wooden structure through a tunnel 
surrounded by darkness. His whole body was tight with strained emotion. The 
tiniest thing would send him spinning out of control.
Throwing open the door he was unaware of the resounding crash it caused as it 
hit the wall behind it. Scanning the front room for Kristian, he found her 
sitting comfortably in one of the rockers he'd made her. She held in one hand a 
sewing loom and a needle, the length of a blue muslin dress for Reggie spread 
out around her. Dean found the scene oddly disconcerting.
Interrupted from her relaxation she blinked up at him in apprehension. When he 
said nothing but stood glaring down at her, she nervously scooted to the edge of 
the chair.
Finally, he narrowed his eyes and in a low menacing voice asked, "Where's 
Reggie?"
She'd never seen him in such a state. His face was beet red and she could see 
the pulse beating in his neck. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly and 
his chest heaved with every breath.
Visibly swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, Kristian answered hoarsely, 
"She and Lupe went for a walk to the creek." Truly alarmed, Kristian stood and 
hesitantly stepped toward him.
Holding out her hands in question she asked, "What is it, Dean?" The fear she 
felt, caused her throat to constrict, making speech painful.
"Kristian, when was Reggie born?" Dean demanded.
So surprised by his question she felt tongue-tied. Trying in vain to wet her 
tongue Kristian swallowed once again. She needed to get control over herself. 
Buck and Broody had never rendered this reaction from her and Dean certainly 
wasn't like them. But knowing this still didn't help.
Slowly regaining her speech, Kristian replied, "February 24." She watched him 
close his eyes and hold his breath. A wave of excruciating pain rolled over his 
mangled features and Kristian's heart wrenched.
He knew the truth. He had to get away from her. He was too angry to speak right 
now. He didn't want to say something he would regret later. Mostly he didn't 
want to scare her. He had noticed the way her hands clasped together until the 
knuckles were white and the look of retreat in her eyes.
She watched in bewilderment as he turned on the heel of his boot and stormed 
from the house. She stood for a few moments staring at the empty doorway. What 
was happening? Why would he be upset with her about Reggie's birth date?
Dean tried; he had left as quickly as possible. But half way to the barn he knew 
he would have to hear the words from her mouth. He had to hear her say that 
Reggie washis .
Spouting several swear words, he retraced his steps. The door still ajar, he 
could see Kristian sitting in the same spot as before. She was staring in front 
of her, a look of bewilderment on her face.
Kristian turned her face back to the door and saw Dean's form looming above her. 
Was this the same man that had only this morning wiped the tears from her eyes? 
Had she been a fool to believe in him?
"Is Reggie Buck's daughter?"
Biting her lower lip, she slowly shook her head.
"Whose is she then?"
"I thought I told you this already, Dean." She swallowed, her face paling. 
"Robbie was her Pa."
She mentally prepared herself for whatever would come. She'd believed to know 
Dean so well, but this was unlike anything she'd experienced with him so far. 
She tried not to be afraid of him. Old habits were hard to change, and her first 
instinct was to run, hide, and grab Reggie on the way.
Dean saw the panic playing across her face and felt disgust boil inside of him.
"Damnation, Kristian! I'm not that slime Rosell you married. I would never hurt 
you so you can quit worrying about that," his voice was a mixture of irritation 
and menace.
Kristian wasn't surprised that he knew what she was thinking. "I can't...can't 
help it." Her teeth chattered, shock and adrenaline were causing her to shake 
uncontrollably.
His head dropped forward, hanging down in defeat. He inhaled deeply several 
times, before meeting her shaken gaze again. He kneeled down in front of her, 
careful not to touch her and stared deeply into her eyes. She could almost feel 
the intensity rolling off him.
"I won't ever hurt you, you know that," he softened his voice and knelt down in 
front of her.
She nodded her head. "I know that. It is just hard for my body to accept." She 
clasped her arms tightly around her chest. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about 
it."
He sighed loudly and rubbed his chin, the stubble grating against his hand. "It 
is just a shock." He had a daughter! Now he knew why Reggie reminded him so much 
of himself. He felt a mixture of pride and guilt. He must tell Kristian the 
truth. Now! Not a second longer must it be delayed!
"I don't regret it Dean! Robbie was a good man and I loved him!" She defended 
herself, misinterpreting his shock for scorn.
"That isn't what I meant Kristian, I know you didn't --" Kristian didn't let him 
finish, cutting him short.
"I won't have you thinking I'm a...Robbie was the only one. We made love the one 
time as I told you. I didn't enjoy it much. It hurt horribly. At the time I made 
my mind believe it was incredibly romantic, being by a stream and under the 
moon."
Despite the fact that the tale was about him, he felt jealousy course through 
him. He should tell her right now instead of sitting here listening to the 
confession.
"Looking back, it was damp and cold and not romantic at all." She laughed a 
little. "I lied and told him it hadn't hurt. He left the next day to return to 
the battle front."
He watched her closely as her eyes became unfocused and she slipped into the 
past. He desperately needed to hear her tale. Dean needed to find out why she 
had married Buck. Why she had placed their daughter in the kind of life she had 
lived before his arrival.
"I was in a state of horrible depression after Robbie was killed. My parents 
were unable to rouse me from the depths of it. Later I realized I hadn't had my 
monthly flow and knew I was pregnant. My parents..." pausing for just a moment, 
she took a deep breath and continued on. "My parents became ill not long after 
and died mere days apart. I was desperate and had no options."
"So you married Rosell!" He couldn't help it. He had meant to be quiet and 
listen but hearing her say she'd been desperate brought forth his rage. She had 
put their daughter in hell for six years.
"That's not what I meant --" Kristian tried to explain.
"Well it sure as hell sounded like that to me."
Anger swelled inside of Kristian, "How dare you. You step into my life and think 
you can judge my past? Do you not think I regret my decisions every day of my 
life so far? I had no choice!" Her voice had risen to match his.
Neither of them realized that Lupe and Reggie had returned and stood watching 
from the doorway.
"You had choices! But you chose not to use them."
"Mama? Pa?" Reggie asked, concern and fear causing her voice to quake.
Both adults swung their gaze to Reggie and Lupe. Instantly contrite Kristian 
smiled reassuringly at Reggie. "It's alright, dumplin', why don't you go help 
Lupe now, alright?"
Reggie's eyes darted between her two parents weighing the truth of Kristian's 
words. Kristian could clearly see the panic in the little girl's eyes, but she 
bobbed her braided head and followed a sniffling Lupe out of the room.
When their eyes locked again Kristian was shocked at the coldness she saw in 
his. Stuffing some of her pride down, she took a tentative step towards him. But 
Dean held up a hand to keep her at a distance.
"Don't," his voice matched the eyes, hard and cold. "How can I have children 
with a woman that would make such a horrible choice for her unborn baby?"
His words knocked the breath from her body. She stumbled back and was grateful 
to feel the edge of the rocking chair hit the backs of her knees. Sinking onto 
the chair, her eyes remained riveted on Dean.
"You can't mean that. We already are going to have --"
With a motion of his hand in the air, he cut her off. "That will be the last 
one. What if something happened to me? You might marry the first ass you met." 
Then he pivoted and walked out. He never once glanced back at her.
CHAPTER 30
The days went by with nothing more said between the two. A month passed and 
Reggie's birthday was celebrated. It was a quiet affair and through most of it 
Kristian and Dean didn't look at each other.
They still slept in the same bed but Dean took every effort to avoid touching 
her. She longed for his touch, his gentle words and strong arms. Her whole 
spirit flagged, broken.
Reggie accompanied Dean more and more to care for the cattle. Kristian stayed at 
home, ostensibly to relax because of her condition, but Kristian and Dean both 
knew the truth.
"I'm going into town today. Lupe do you need anything?" His words sliced through 
the thick silence like a blunt knife. Lupe was at her usual post in front of the 
stove, cooking. Kristian sat across from him and Reggie had yet to wake up. His 
gaze never wavered from Lupe's broad back, but he was aware of Kristian with 
every fiber of his being and awaited her reaction.
"No," Lupe answered sharply. She sniffed self righteously, into the air. Her 
disapproval of their arguing unwavering.
He waited for a moment longer but when Kristian still didn't react to his 
announcement, he turned his silver gaze to her. Her head was bowed, staring at 
the plate of food before her.
"Kristian?" he asked softly. It seemed like such a long time ago that they had 
exchanged words. He missed her so much it almost hurt worse than when he had 
been searching for her. Whenever he thought of what she had put their daughter 
through, though, the rage once again filled him.
"Well?" he asked, impatience ringing through his rough voice. She still didn't 
answer and this time he bellowed out, "Kristian."
The sharpness to his voice cut through her thoughts. He hadn't actually 
addressed anything to her for so long that Kristian hadn't been listening. Now, 
she raised her questioning gaze to him but remained silent.
His jaw clenched when his eyes drank in her appearance. She had always been so 
strong, what was happening to her? Her normally glowing emerald eyes were dull 
and sunken, shadowed by dark circles. Deep hollows formed under her cheeks, her 
skin a pasty tone.
"I said that I'm going into town, do you need anything?" his tone while still 
gruff, was gentler than when he had first spoken.
With a small smile, she shook her head. "No, thank you." Once again her head 
dipped to stare at her food.
The silence fell heavily around the trio, shrinking his words to nonexistence. 
Dean, however, never took his gaze from Kristian. He watched her push the food 
around, never raising the fork to her lips.
"Have you been sick?" Dean attempted to sound nonchalant.
She quickly looked back up at him. A flicker of irritation passed across her 
face but was replaced by a quivering smile.
"No, but it is kind of you to concern yourself."
Dean ground his teeth together in agitation. Concern himself? By God, he was her 
husband and...and...At the moment, he understood. He wanted her to scream at 
him, tell him how childish he was behaving.
He didn't know what to say so he stood and slapped his hat upon his head. 
Turning on his heel, he stomped to the front door. Just before it was to close 
behind him, he peered back in on her. She was still in the same place, staring 
down at her plate, pushing the food around.
"I'll come by and get Reggie before I go. You need to rest for a while," his 
words were clipped and far from being a request. He didn't expect her to argue 
with him but damn if he wouldn't have appreciated it.
She glanced toward him in time for the door to shut firmly behind him. Would 
this be how it was until the day she died? It felt like loosing Robbie all over 
again. She loved Dean more than she ever had Robbie. This conflict between them 
was eating her up.
Lupe watched Kristian stand and listlessly make her way up the stairs. Turning 
back to her frying pan, she decided that if that boy didn't straighten things 
up, and soon, she just might have to have set him straight. No one else 
obviously would.
***
Kristian closed her eyes, allowing sleep to descend up on her. The slow back and 
forth movement of the rocker soothing her raw nerves.
She sat next to the window in her room watching the large falling flakes of snow 
add to the mounds of white powder already on the ground. Sometime in the late 
afternoon the storm had arrived, surprising Lupe and Kristian.
The day had been reasonably warm outside. Lupe, deciding it was warm enough to 
hang laundry, had asked for her help. Kristian smiled gently at the memory. She 
had known then that Lupe only wanted to get her busy. That was the moment that 
she realized her behavior would have to change.
The two women had been outside when the tempest began to accumulate. The low 
gray clouds warned of the impending tribute. Lupe ranted in Spanish, the tone 
telling Kristian what kind of words she said. Biting her lip, she'd managed to 
not laugh out loud.
Once inside with the still wet laundry, the women had hung the clothes around 
the house to dry. After eating a light meal of beans and tortillas, Kristian 
retired for the night. She hadn't missed the look of resignation Lupe sent her 
way, but chose to ignore it. This was something she needed to work out herself.
She had been sitting in the chair since. She wasn't sure what time it was, but 
night had been settled in for quite some time now. The dark storm clouds blocked 
out the moon. The ethereal glow of the iridescent snow lit up the night in spite 
of the lacking light.
Opening her eyes, she moved aside the lace curtain of the window and ran her 
eyes across the white landscape. The snow was piling up and she could feel the 
winter wind hitting the pane of glass. She couldn't help but worry about Dean 
and Reggie.
Most likely, she reasoned, they had found a room in town and wouldn't be home 
until tomorrow. But she still couldn't avoid thinking of them. The cold weather 
in the Rockies could sneak up on unsuspecting people and freeze them before 
shelter was found.
Kristian had felt confusion since Dean had learned of Reggie's true parentage. 
He had been so angry at her. She felt numb.
Although she had survived countless attacks by Buck and Broody it had never 
effected her like Dean's scorn. She finally understood why. The love she held 
for Dean made the difference.
His obvious disgust had all but broken her in the last month. Sitting here 
watching the snowfall had given her time to contemplate the time passed. She 
needed his love and no longer would she settle for less.
He had loved her. Surely that hadn't changed over Robbie being Reggie's Pa. He 
still cared for Reggie so it stood to reason that he could forgive her. If he 
truly loved her they could work it out. If not, then....
"Senora! Senora!" Lupe called from the top of the stairs, her voice high and 
strained. Kristian stopped her movements instantly and bounded out of the 
rocking chair.
The panic she heard in Lupe's voice caused her to move faster than she had in a 
while. Life seemed to flow through her veins. The fighting spirit that enabled 
her to live through so much returned full force.
"Lupe? What is it?" Lupe was already moving her broad body back down the stairs 
and Kristian scrambled to keep up.
"There's a rider coming towards the house!" Lupe wrung her hands in her apron, 
unsure of what to do.
Cowboy and the hands had all gone along with Dean thinking they'd be back before 
sunset. No one had counted on the storm that blew in, so the two women were on 
their own. And they both knew that no rational person would travel on a night 
like tonight.
"Where's my shotgun?" Kristian asked, automatic survival instincts kicking in. 
Whoever it was would not take the two women without a fight. "And latch the 
shutters Lupe!" she called, hurrying around the room extinguishing all the 
lamps.
Lupe handed her the shotgun and rushed to do as bid. With the windows blocked 
and the lamps blown out, the inside of the house was bathed in darkness. The 
burning fire lent the room a warm glow, sharply conflicting with the 
apprehension filling the air.
Cautiously, Kristian peaked out into the night through the cross cut out in the 
middle of the shutters. Designed in such a way, the cross openings allowed a 
rifle to be aimed in any direction.
The gentle radiance of the white snow lit up the otherwise black night allowing 
a clear view of the surrounding area.
Kristian could see the form of a man on horseback riding towards them. Her heart 
thumped against her chest painfully. It was not Dean; she would know his build.
The rider looked large and bulky. The head was indistinguishable from the coat, 
burrowed deep within to keep warm. A layer of snow almost a half-inch thick 
coated the stranger's coat. Whoever it was had come a long way. Kristian looked 
closely but didn't see any gun in sight.
When the horse reached the house the rider didn't dismount. Sitting so still, 
Kristian feared the person might have frozen to death.
"Lupe, start heating some water and collect as many blankets as you can. I don't 
think our uninvited guest is going to be any threat. He might be dead already." 
Lupe gasped and hustled off.
Kristian decided to watch for just a few more minutes to make sure it wasn't a 
trick. The man remained undistinguishable, even this close, and Kristian 
couldn't risk their safety. Slowly the figure raised his head and looked around 
him, lifted a leg and balanced precariously on the shivering horse.
Kristian watched with disbelief when the man threw himself down onto the ground. 
Snow billowed around the prone man, hiding him momentarily from view. When the 
powder settled down, the body of the rider lay in a heap, seemingly oblivious of 
the cold. Was he sick? Injured?
Kristian bit her lip in indecision. Her gut urged her to help the poor creature, 
but her mind directed her to caution. The bundle of rags attempted to stand 
several times, but collapsed beneath the weight.
Finally the rider managed to remain erect and stumbled towards the door. His 
movements were jerky and Kristian had no doubt that he was very near to 
freezing. She gripped her gun in her palm and dared to take a chance as she 
rushed to the door.
Just then she heard a muffled cry from outside. She threw open the door in time 
to hear, "help me," from the faceless stranger.
Icicles hung down around the closed hood of his coat. Swaying dangerously, he 
lurched into the house. Kristian gripped his arm to help steady him and noticed 
she held mostly padding. Discarding the thought she led the man towards the 
warmth of the fire.
"Easy now, just come over here by the fire and we'll get you warmed up. Lupe," 
Kristian called.
"Si Senora?" Lupe queried, fighting against the freezing wind to close the door.
"Please get some hot coffee."
"Si!"
"Sit here," Kristian instructed pulling the stiff blanket from his shoulders, 
and gently pushing him to sit on the divan. "Let me help you with the buttons on 
your coat. We've got to get it off so you can warm by the fire."
Without waiting for a reply Kristian began to pull and tug on the frigid 
buttons. Several popped off in her haste to remove the icy garment. Efficiently 
divesting the coat from him, she pushed the now-dripping hood back from his 
head.
A cloud of long, matted auburn hair tumbled down to the stranger's waist. 
Kristian stared at the dirt caked tresses in mute shock.
A woman? What woman would be out in this weather, alone?
The sound of the woman's teeth clicking together pulled Kristian from her 
astonishment. The woman's face hid behind the nest of hair and her shoulders 
hunched up to protect her ears.
"Just sit still, ma'am, I'll have you out of this in a moment."
With one final jerk, Kristian pulled the coat free and tossed it in the 
direction of the mantle to dry. Lupe appeared with an armful of blankets and a 
mug of coffee.
Gratefully Kristian smiled at her. "Thank you."
Lupe and Kristian draped the thick wool blankets over the legs and around the 
back of the shivering woman. Kristian kneeled by the fire and fed more logs to 
it. Sparks scattered and sputtered as the red heat licked around the new 
offering.
The woman's body rippled with uncontrollable shudders. Kristian added yet more 
fuel to the fire and rubbed the woman's arms in an attempt to warm her. The room 
was almost too hot to bear for Kristian and Lupe, but neither complained. Both 
had beads of sweat on their foreheads when at last the shaking ceased.
Holding the warm drink up to the woman, Kristian prodded, "Drink this -- it will 
help to warm you on the inside."
Slowly, the woman lifted her head. Trembling fingers pushed the ratted hair from 
her face. Kristian noted the droplets of water on the woman's delicate eyebrows 
and long eyelashes, as the frozen snow crystal's melted. The telltale blue shade 
was fading to be replaced by a sliver of pink. The silver-blue eyes that met 
Kristian's contained so much fear and hope that Kristian felt her own heart 
ache.
Then as she continued to stare, recognition materialized. Kristian impatiently 
pushed away the tired woman's dirt caked hair. Her brows wrinkled as her heart 
lurched to her throat. Could it be?
When her view was no longer hindered, dirt covered Kristian's hands but she paid 
no attention to such detail. Her sole attention was on the woman sitting before 
her fire. Kristian's mind reeled wildly. It just couldn't be who she thought it 
was...
"Kristian?" the woman croaked.
Kristian was left with no doubt.
Surrounding the familiar friend in a warm embrace, tears slid down her cheeks in 
happiness and pain. She couldn't believe what was happening. Melissa...It was 
Robbie's sister Melissa...
"Yes, darlin' it's me. You're safe now. Melissa don't worry, you're safe now." 
Kristian tightened her embrace and Melissa surrounded Kristian's enlarging belly 
with her own scrawny arms.
Then Melissa began to cry. Huge wracking sobs shook her body. Gasping for air, 
she made horribly aching sounds. Kristian thought of Reggie and was imminently 
glad that Dean had taken her with him. Although she wouldn't have robbed Melissa 
of such a release it would have scared her daughter.
Melissa cried until no tears would fall. She cried until the two were the only 
ones still up and still Kristian held her. She knew only too well how life could 
provoke this kind of pain.
CHAPTER 31
Dean woke early. The sun had yet to rise over the mountains when he roused 
Reggie. A horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach instinctively 
prodded him to get home. Something was happening at the homestead. And he was 
afraid.
He had thought of her all night, sleep eluding him. The last month had not been 
one he was proud of. He had been judgmental and unwilling to listen to her 
attempted explanations. This was the first night since their marriage they'd 
spent apart and it killed him. He needed her.
First thing when he got home, he would take her into his arms and tell her how 
much he loved her. She was the fountain of his spirit. Without her he wasn't fit 
to live. She had done what she felt necessary. He would just have to accept it. 
Accept her.
As he lifted Reggie onto the saddle, bundled up in her coat and a borrowed 
blanket, Dean once again felt the sense of urgency. He'd spent a better part of 
the morning waiting on the hands to rise and finish eating. His patience had 
been taxed to the breaking point. Without waiting for the hands to mount, Dean 
bolted onto the saddle behind Reggie and prodded the horse to life.
Cowboy and the other men watched as their boss hurried into the blinding 
whiteness. Although the snow had ceased, it was still a good idea to travel 
together. The men couldn't help but wonder what had spurred their boss on this 
early in the morning.
Dean could think of nothing but getting home. The horse struggled to gallop 
through the deep snow and Dean was forced to slow down. Reggie loved the gentle 
pace and occasional leap the horse maneuvered, but Dean's instincts only grew 
stronger. He had to get to her. Resisting the urge to nudge the horse faster, he 
ground his teeth with irritation.
CHAPTER 32
Kristian stretched her sore muscles, careful to not awake Melissa. She wasn't 
sure what time they had fallen asleep but it had been late.
Her neck hurt, cramped from sleeping at an odd angle. She was sitting upright, 
the only relief being the couch's high back. The velvet upholstery helped to pad 
some of the discomfort but not nearly enough.
Melissa lay sprawled across the full length of the couch, her head resting on 
Kristian's lap.
Melissa...
Melissa was two years her junior, not much when it came down to it. But growing 
up she had been like a little sister to an only child like Kristian.
Melissa's long auburn hair caught the rays of the rising sun filtering in 
through the crosses on the shutters. Kristian had always been envious of that 
beautiful shade. Wishing she possessed the deep fire colored hair.
What was Robbie's little sister doing here? Kristian could still picture in her 
mind's eye the young girl calling after her and Robbie, pleading to be allowed 
to accompany them. Robbie had always chucked her chin and promised next time. 
Sometimes she did go with them, wading in the pond, walking through the fields 
or just sitting with them on the porch.
The woman lying on her couch was not the same as the young lady she remembered. 
Her hair was caked with mud; she reeked of horse and general body odor. Her 
clothes would be better off burned and her feet were wrapped in layers of torn 
cloth. First thing this morning, she would need a bath.
Kristian heard a slight scuffle behind her and winced at the pain radiating 
through her neck as she turned to look. She'd been expecting Lupe for a while. 
In fact she thought Lupe had actually overslept today compared with most 
mornings. But with the men gone it didn't much matter. Kristian was more than 
capable of feeding herself.
"Senora, how is the woman?" Lupe spoke in hushed tones to avoid waking the 
visitor.
Kristian ran a hand over the matted auburn hair.
"I think she'll be alright. We'll need to give her a warm bath as soon as she 
awakens and something to eat. She feels thin enough to break."
"Si, I would say she's been on the trail for a long time."
"Yes, I think so. But the question is why?"
"I will start warming enough water to fill the tub." The older woman hurried 
towards the kitchen feeling more useful with something to do. "And something to 
eat, some pancakes and eggs," Lupe called quietly over her shoulder.
Kristian remained in her spot, although her legs were numb and her bottom ached. 
Melissa looked like she needed a good rest. What on earth had happened to her? 
She had always been such a pretty girl and now she looked so thin and washed 
out.
Melissa stretched and sighed a breath of contentment. Then, as if realization 
set in, she bolted upright. Her face contorted in fear, her gaze dashing 
throughout the room, desperately searching for a way out. When her eyes came to 
rest upon Kristian's face, she visibly relaxed. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a 
great gust of air, allowing it to seep out through her mouth in a slow, steady 
seep. She sagged against the back of the couch and grinned half-heartedly.
Kristian smiled back and gathered Melissa's hand in her own. Tears began to 
congeal in Melissa's eyes again and when her rapid blinking could no longer hold 
them at bay the heavy drops slid down her hollow cheeks.
"Oh! You would have thought I'd cried all those out last night," Melissa's 
moaned.
Wiping away the fresh tears Kristian answered, "Now it isn't that bad. Crying 
can free a spirit."
"You don't know how glad I am to be here Kristian," Melissa sniffled loudly, 
impatiently dashing at the flowing. "I have come so far and there were times I 
was so afraid. I met a man back in Kansas. He'd gone on and on about a poker 
match he'd witnessed between a man named Buck Rosell and the famous bounty 
hunter, the Undertaker. I remembered you'd married a man named Rosell and took a 
chance. I had no money...I stole to eat...and..."
"Shhh...We'll talk more about all that later, all right? You look as if a hot 
bath and good meal would hit the spot."
A sound of bliss purred from Melissa's throat. "Oh yes, that would be wonderful. 
I don't remember the last time I had either one."
Lupe was pleased and Kristian was shocked at the amount of food Melissa ate. If 
she did this all the time Reggie would definitely have competition. Although she 
was obviously ravaging, Melissa still retained all her gentile manners, the late 
Renee Willis would have been proud.
Privacy was hard to come by when bathing in the middle of the kitchen floor. It 
was such a heavy wood tub they agreed to leave it there. Kristian provided some 
lavender scented soaps and the softest towels they owned.
Melissa sank into the steaming hot water with a loud groan. Kristian and Lupe 
both headed up the stairs, intent on finding the new arrival some clothing to 
wear.
Melissa rubbed her eyes, wiping the grime from the thick lashes. Muscles she'd 
never used before hurt. Scrapes and bruises littered her body creating a 
testimonial to the trial she'd been under to get here. At least she was here, 
that was what counted. She slid down into the water, her shoulders easing as 
they submerged under water.
Thank God she'd found Kristian.
***
Dean burst into the room, anxious to ascertain his family's safety. A frightened 
Kristian stood on the stairs, her hand pressed to her chest.
"Well damnation, Dean! You like to have scared me to death," she chastised, 
descending the remainder to reach the bottom.
Dean noticed the difference in her immediately. She still looked the same as 
when he had left. Her cheeks were too thin and dark circles highlighted her 
eyes, but it was more than that.
Her hair was wound into a loose knot perched on the top of her head. Her dress 
of blue calico ironed to crisp perfection. The shine on her face, though, was 
what attracted his attention. It wasn't a full smile, but rather a tilt of the 
sides, full of tenderness and trepidation. The glorious emerald eyes framed by 
thick brown lashes once again held their shine.
She looked happier and healthier than she had in weeks.
Dean pulled off his hat and turned it nervously in his hands. He was the reason 
that Kristian had been so ill. His damn temper had gotten the best of him and he 
had devastated her with his words.
"Kristian," he faltered and looked down on his work-roughened hands for 
strength. "Kristian, I'm sorry. What I said --"
Kristian closed the distance between them and pressed her finger to his lips. 
"Shhh...I understand Dean. I love you and I want us to talk this out. But for 
now could you just hold me?"
Without another word Dean scooped her into his embrace, lifting her off her 
feet. He buried his head in her hair, inhaling deeply. God, he had missed her.
He leaned back and claimed her mouth with the same movement. Their souls 
collided with relief and exuberance at being reconciled. Kristian skimmed his 
back, imagining the feel of his taut skin through his coat.
Dean felt a tug on the back of his coat and swiftly remembered Reggie. Breaking 
away from a stunned Kristian he pulled Reggie into their embrace. Kristian, 
realizing what had happened, laughed and joined in the group hug.
"Ah Senor! Senorita! You're home." Lupe, descending the stairs behind Kristian, 
had remained respectfully out of sight.
"Si," Dean answered her. "And Cowboy isn't far behind."
Waving his words away, Lupe said, "No matter, I can't get rid of him anyway. 
Where else would he go? Come my little one," she held out her hand to Reggie. 
"I've some cookies just for you."
Dean and Kristian held their laughter until Lupe went through the arched doorway 
to the kitchen. Then their giggles bubbled forth. They felt exalted. Refreshed. 
Like a spring rain washing away the dust collected over the fall and winter.
Dean kissed the back of Kristian's hand and turned it over to bury his lips into 
her palm. With his tongue he traced the paths of her fingers, nipping at the 
pads of each.
"Come with me darlin'. I've missed much more than this from you." He walked 
backward pulling her with him. She followed, her gaze locked onto his gleaming 
silver eyes.
A movement behind him distracted her and when she glanced toward it a becoming 
blush crept up her neck. Melissa stood on the bottom step, pale, staring at 
Dean.
She had completely forgotten Melissa!
"Oh Dean! I forgot to tell you, we have a visitor."
"We do?" His patience waned. If she didn't hurry up he just might take her right 
here.
Lifting her hand from his grasp she traced his cleft with the tip of her finger. 
"Her name is Melissa. She was..."
Dean stiffened and paled.
"What is it Dean?" she asked, concern etching her brow.
He didn't answer but released her hand. Seconds ticked away as Dean slowly 
turned to face Melissa.
When the two locked eyes, Melissa gasped. Kristian felt instantly contrite, she 
should have warned her of his appearance. She so rarely thought of his scars 
that it hadn't occurred to her. Kristian knew how sensitive Dean was of his 
face, she worried what his reaction would be. Frantically trying to think of a 
tension breaker she was shocked when Melissa launched herself into his arms.
"Robbie!" she cried.
Dean held her tightly and despite herself, Kristian felt a bit of jealousy worm 
its way into her feelings. Why on earth was Melissa calling him Robbie?
"Robbie. Oh, Robbie! I thought you were dead! I never expected to find you too. 
Thank God! Thank God!" she repeatedly professed, tears streaming down her face.
Kristian waited, knowing Dean would explain he wasn't Robbie. Never would he 
hurt her feelings, but she had no doubt he would set it all aright.
The two stepped apart but Melissa still clung to him. Kristian could hardly tear 
her eyes away from the hand gripping his shirt. She had always liked Melissa and 
found this reaction to Dean very troublesome.
Meeting Melissa's exuberant, if tearful eyes, Kristian softly informed her, 
"Melissa, this is Dean. My husband. Robbie was killed in the war."
Melissa stared at her for a moment, disbelief plain in her eyes. "Kristian, 
don't you see? It's Robbie." Looking up at Dean, Melissa narrowed her eyes and 
asked, "What's going on Robbie? Why doesn't she realize it's you?"
When Dean didn't answer her but continued to stare at Kristian, Melissa pulled 
away from him completely. "You fool! Tell her! Tell her the truth!"
Her outburst caused a sliver of doubt to etch into Kristian's heart. She slid 
her gaze up to Dean's face. Blood pounded through her veins as she noted the 
subtle resemblance. The cleft chin could be the same. On more than one occasion 
she'd been struck by the likeness of their eyes. He definitely possessed the 
same fluid motion and mannerisms.
He called her Kay, which had been Robbie's nickname for her. It also would 
explain why he and Reggie resembled each other so much. Kristian had assumed it 
all a coincidence.
Then she remembered how well he'd taken the admission about their lovemaking. 
Finally she thought of his reaction to learning Robbie had sired Reggie. Could 
this be?
Closing her eyes, she tried to take a deep breath but found her throat 
constricted. Her breathing came in and out in short shallow pants. Her head 
became fuzzy, lightheaded. She opened her eyes and stared sightlessly toward the 
mantle.
She sank down into the rocker, unaware of doing so. Denial bubbled forth. Dean 
wouldn't have done this to her. He loved her. Robbie wouldn't have done this to 
her. He had loved her. But were Dean and Robbie one and the same?
An answer came to her in the blink of an eye. She felt a fool for ignoring her 
niggling conscience this long. She was an imbecile.
Robert Dean Willis.
All this time she had forgotten his full name. Or perhaps she hadn't. Perhaps it 
was just buried so deep her mind couldn't access it until this very moment. Dean 
was Robbie's middle name. Dean had told her his last name was Wilds.
He had lied.
Standing on her wobbly legs, she faced the siblings. "What is your last name?" 
the demand was sharp and clipped.
Dean took a step toward her and Kristian read the truth written on his face. 
"Willis? You lied? All this time? You lied?"
He reached her and gripped her elbows in his palms.
"Kristian I wanted to tell you but the time never felt right. And then it had 
been so long and --"
"All this time?" Kristian repeated, oblivious to his words. Her mind was 
whirling at a speed that made her dizzy. He had betrayed her. She had allowed 
herself to love him and he had betrayed her. She closed her eyes and drew in a 
shaky breath.
"Kristian, please listen to me," Dean pleaded, his hands pulling her into his 
embrace.
She jerked free of his hands and turned away. She needed to put some space 
between them. She had to have some time. The longer she stood there looking at 
his innocent expression the more her anger built.
Her temples pounded with each pump of blood from her heart, counting out the 
number of times she'd felt guilty. Guilty over her feelings, her thoughts, her 
intuition. And he had allowed her to go on thinking that Robbie was dead.
He'd pretended to be this great martyr when all along her memories were of him. 
No wonder he felt no jealousy about Robbie. Hewas Robbie.
"You -- you had the nerve to blameme for decisions I made --" she sputtered, 
tears threatening the back of her eyes. Tears for the anger she felt. Tears of 
betrayal. She pointed at his chest and gave him a glare so full of animosity 
that Dean was taken aback. "You said I'd marry another ass. I did. Stay away 
from me."
Bristling past him, she headed for the stairs. She hadn't taken two steps when a 
large hand gripped her wrist.
"Kristian, just wait a minute."
"Why? So you can lead me on more?"
"Damn it! I never lied to you!" Despite himself, he found his voice rising.
"No, you just remained silent. Lying by omission." Tilting her head to the side 
she regarded him with flat, dull eyes. "Tell me Dean, Robbie, whoever you are, 
did you laugh when you were alone? Because I was so gullible?"
Dean ground his teeth and dropped her hand. "I'll be here when you are ready to 
talk. I'm not going anywhere."
She remained unmoved by his speech and a lifeless smile formed on her lips. "Of 
course not. You've ran out of names." Then she calmly turned from him and 
ascended the stairs. Her heart dropped to her stomach but she refused to show 
it.
He had betrayed her.
Dean watched the unfeeling woman that disappeared around the corner of the hall 
and sighed. Dropping his head back to hang on his shoulders, he contemplated his 
next move. He jumped a little when Melissa slipped a cool hand into his.
"Give her time, Robbie."
His shoulders drooped and a look of despair filled his eyes. He attempted to 
smile, but halfway formed it died.
"I guess I had that coming."
"Yes. That and more."
Sheepishly, he grinned at her. "I thought little sisters were always on their 
brother's side?"
She smiled back at him and answered, "Not when they've been pig-headed and acted 
like a mule."
Dean couldn't help himself, a chuckle erupted from his burly chest. "Come here, 
little sis! Let me give you another hug. I never thought to lay eyes upon the 
likes of you again."
She moved into his embrace without any further encouragement. Both siblings had 
trails of wetness on their cheeks when at last they separated again.
"So what do I call you now?"
Solemnly Dean replied, "Melissa, Robbie did die in the war. Dean was born out of 
the ashes. I've survived and lived through hell to get here. I hope you aren't 
disappointed, but I'm not the same person."
A haunted look flittered through her eyes but she looked away before Dean could 
read it. Wringing her hands together, she nodded her understanding.
"I don't think many of us are."
CHAPTER 33
Dean stood behind the corpse of trees watching Kristian stroll along the edge of 
Plum Creek. She remained furious with him and, truthfully, he couldn't blame 
her. He had made the biggest mistake of his life by not telling her from the 
beginning.
She made it abundantly clear that she was not apt to forgive him anytime soon. 
Whenever Dean entered a room, she would either leave or completely ignore him. 
The only time she acknowledged his presence was if he directly addressed her. 
Her answers were always painfully polite.
Over the last few weeks, she had gained her weight back. Her cheeks once again 
glowed with health and vigor. The dark shadows under her eyes had long since 
disappeared. Her stomach had taken on a roundness, announcing the anticipated 
birth. He realized, however, that it was only noticeable to him because of his 
intense awareness of her whenever she entered the same room.
At night he made sure to be in bed before her. Boldly, watching as she changed 
into her modest nightshirt just to see her body. A thrill of pleasure would 
ripple through him at the sight of her belly, knowing his babe nestled safely 
within.
Kristian walked along the bank, kicking at pebbles on the ground. Occasionally 
she came across a larger stone and threw it into the turbulent waters. Folding 
her arms around her chest, she fully faced Plum Creek.
The melting snow from high on the mountain filled the creek almost to 
overflowing. Bodies of water, such as this creek, fed the larger rivers that 
traversed through the mountains, eventually flowing along the plains.
Plum Creek looked shallow enough to wade in but the strong currents produced 
from the spring thaw could easily whisk a grown man off his feet. A child that 
wandered into the swirling mass would drown. It was splendid to watch but deadly 
to be in.
Dean, however, did not watch the river; he ignored everything but Kristian. Her 
hair, released from the knot at the nape of her neck, hung down her back in a 
braid as thick as his wrist. He traveled the length of the braid, ending at the 
soft round mounds of her buttocks. His body responded to the sight, wringing a 
groan of discomfort from him.
It had been so long since they had found sweet release within each other. He 
ached to be inside her, to taste of the sweet nectar only she could provide. But 
until she forgave him it wouldn't be.
Behind him, Loco, the black stallion he now rode, nickered with impatience. 
Kristian spun around at the sound. She located him within the nest of trees and 
narrowed her eyes with annoyance. Even from this distance he could feel the 
irritation radiating from her.
A memory of her clinging to him suddenly blurred his vision. His gaze slipped 
over to the tree. That was the exact spot he had first held the glorious weight 
of her breasts in his hands. Tasted of her. The spot from where she had accepted 
his proposal.
His gaze flittered back to her face and from the blush on her cheeks, she read 
his thoughts.
Pulling herself to her full height, she turned on her heel and regally walked to 
the blanket. Her chin high, Kristian knelt down and carefully arranged her skirt 
around her. She faced the water and Dean knew that unless he approached her, she 
would continue to ignore him.
Whipping his hat from his head, he slapped it against his thigh several times. 
With an exasperated sigh, he crossed the space between them. Holding his hat 
between his fingertips, he unconsciously turned it around in circles. When she 
continued to ignore him he stepped in front of her view, forcing her to 
acknowledge him. He attempted a smile but she turned her head away. Pursing his 
lips, Dean bit back an oath.
"Well, I suppose you know I'm leaving today."
Kristian refused to answer and began to hum a quiet tune. Dean ground his back 
teeth in vexation.
"I'm not sure when I'll be back. Ought to take about a week or more to drive the 
herd down there. I'm leaving Cowboy here. He won't be worth a damn anyway, the 
way he moons over Lupe." The last was said with an attempt at humor but Kristian 
returned a frosty glare.
Dean knelt down in front of her. "Kristian can't you even tell me goodbye?" his 
voice was husky with hurt, sorrow and regret.
"Dean or Robbie, whoever you are," she spit out at him. "I don't care where you 
go or how long you'll be away. I'll be just fine and so will my daughter."
When she attempted to turn her head again, Dean caught her chin between his 
thumb and forefinger. The hold was gentle but secure and Kristian couldn't pull 
herself out without losing pride.
Dean intended to tell her what he thought of her attitude but all his thoughts 
slipped away from being so close to her. His nose was mere inches from hers. His 
lips mere moments from tasting her honey. Seeing the fire blazing inside her 
eyes broke the last bit of self-discipline he possessed.
Swooping down, he captured her mouth with his own. His lips pressed hard, 
passion and longing driving him with fierce need. She opened her mouth to 
protest but his tongue invaded and conquered. The kiss was long and deep, 
possessive and passionate. It conveyed so much pent up desire that it nearly 
brought Kristian to tears. When he broke away, she felt intoxicated with lust. 
She remained frozen in time, her lips lax, her eyes shut.
When at last her eyes opened and looked up at Dean she could only blink with 
bafflement. His gaze was steady and Kristian thought she detected regret. Just 
before she would've spoken a slow, arrogant smile curved his luscious lips. 
Transforming the regret she'd read only minutes before in his silver-gray eyes 
to one of smug awareness.
Leaning over, his elbow propped on one leg, he traced her bottom lip with the 
tip of his finger. "You think of that while I'm away."
Slapping his battered hat atop his unruly black hair, he sauntered across the 
meadow. Deftly mounting Loco, he paused a moment to gaze back across the space 
between them, locking eyes with her. He tapped his blasted hat with the tip of 
his finger and faded into the trees.
***
"When will Pa be back, Mama?" Reggie sat upon her narrow bed, between Kristian's 
legs. Fresh from the bath, Reggie smelled of lavender and soap. Gently, Kristian 
ran a brush through the unruly mass of black curls on Reggie's head.
"In about seven days or so, I suspect." Kristian knew why Reggie was asking.
"I wish I could've gone," the little girl muttered with forlorn heartache.
Kristian smiled tenderly and answered with a small murmur.
Reggie added with stronger conviction, "I could've helped. I'm a good helper. Pa 
told me so." Reggie looked back at her mother, nodding her head for emphasis.
Kristian gently directed her face back around. "I know dumplin', but you're far 
too young yet."
Kristian put away the brush and helped Reggie to climb in-between the sheets of 
her bed. She turned the lamp down low, leaving a small amount of light glowing 
in the room, in case Reggie needed something during the night. Brushing a light 
kiss across Reggie's forehead, Kristian turned to retreat from the room.
"Mama, can I go to school?"
Kristian returned to the bed, sitting down to take Reggie's small hand in hers. 
Smoothing an errant lock of coal black hair from Reggie's eye, Kristian smiled.
"Would you like that?"
Reggie's eyes widened in excitement, "Oh yes! Lupe says lots of kids go to 
school from town. I'd like to play with them."
Looking down at her lap, Kristian's heart twisted. Guilt assailed her from all 
angles. Her bad choices had resulted in so much misery. The fact that Reggie had 
never played with anyone her own age added bitterness to the guilt.
Looking back at Reggie, she made sure none of her thoughts showed. One corner of 
Kristian's mouth curved up in humor at Reggie's anxious expression.
"I suppose we could work that out with your pa."
Reggie beamed and then suddenly plummeted as her delicate eyebrows squeezed 
together.
"Mama, is he my real Pa?"
Kristian's heart seized. Forcibly, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs 
with calming oxygen. "What makes you ask that, dumplin'."
"I want him to be my real pa." A shrug of her shoulder offered little in 
explanation. Kristian didn't believe the nonchalance Reggie was clearly trying 
to play, but she decided not to pry into her thoughts. If something were being 
tossed around in there, sooner or later she would hear all about it. Reggie was 
not one to keep things to herself for long.
"All right, well, you sleep good and I'll see you in the morning, alright?" 
Bending at the waist, she embraced her daughter securely in her arms, treasuring 
the feel of Reggie squeezing her back.
Walking down the hall to her room she noticed a light under Melissa's door. She 
knocked lightly and heard a call to come in.
Poking her head around the door, Kristian smiled. The room was the smallest in 
the house but Melissa had refused to trade with Lupe. A small bed was centered 
on the opposing wall, next to the lone window, a large wardrobe standing in the 
corner. The window, facing the front yard, looked down over the barn and 
corrals. Pretty blue gingham curtains trimmed it, offering privacy, and a 
colorful patchwork quilt covered the bed.
Melissa stood with her back to Kristian, looking out the window into the black 
of night. The night was heavy with clouds and light wind. The moon remained 
hidden, rendering no relief to the black velvet outside the window. It seemed 
like an opaque curtain fell on the other side of the glass pane.
"You doing alright?" Kristian asked, her smile fading away. Melissa's shoulders 
shook a little but her head remained high.
Slowly, Melissa turned to look back at her. As soon as Kristian laid eyes upon 
Melissa's swollen, red rimmed eyes and puffy nose, she knew something was wrong.
Closing the door with a quiet click, Kristian crossed the room and pulled 
Melissa into her reassuring arms. Melissa was a little taller than Kristian, but 
the difference was unnoticeable.
Kristian smoothed the auburn veil of Melissa's hair back from her face, much as 
she had with Reggie only moments before. Melissa was dressed as Kristian, in a 
nightgown and wrapper ready for bed. The auburn curls, pinned up in a knot for 
the day had now been let down to sleep in.
"There now, it can't be that bad," her words were murmured but Melissa heard 
them none the less.
With none of the feminine grace Melissa usually displayed, she sniffled loudly 
and croaked, "Oh, but it is."
"Tell me what's wrong." She hadn't seen Melissa this upset since her arrival.
Melissa shook her bent head against Kristian's small shoulder. "No, you'd think 
I was terrible."
"Oh Melissa," Kristian smiled softly and sighed with acceptance. "After all that 
has happened over the years I really don't think you could shock me. I might be 
exactly what you need. You haven't talked at all about the years since the war."
Gently Melissa pulled away and took Kristian's hand. Together the two sat upon 
her bed. Kristian ran her gaze across the shiny headboard of the narrow bed. 
Dean had worked day and night to make this for Melissa.
He had been embarrassed to offer her nothing much in the beginning but a straw 
pallet. Melissa now slept on a fine feather mattress and wood frame. The 
mattress, Lupe, Melissa and Kristian had stuffed together. The wardrobe had been 
purchased from the general store in town, much to Dean's displeasure. The frame, 
bare of any embellishments due to time restraints, Dean had made for his sister.
Varnished to a high shine, Kristian couldn't help but appreciate it, despite its 
simplicity. A wave of admiration for Dean's compassion and dedication swept 
across her. It had taken a lot of work to complete the bed frame in the short 
time since Melissa's arrival.
Melissa tucked her hands into her lap, wringing the folds of her borrowed 
wrapper in tight fists. "I can't. It would only hurt you in the long run."
"Melissa," Kristian tried to think of the right words to sound tactful. "It 
doesn't matter what you've been doing in the last few years. You were a woman, 
alone, with few options and no family to turn to. You did what you had to do. If 
you need to confide in someone, please feel free to do so. I love you no 
matter."
Melissa bowed her head and closed her eyes for a long time. When she finally 
raised it, she shook her head no. "I just can't Kristian. Please trust me. I 
wasn't..." a blush crept up over Melissa's face as she stammered with the words. 
"Doing anything...improper."
Kristian smiled with encouragement, but didn't feel reassured. Melissa had spent 
at least six years on her own. There weren't a lot of options open to women 
besides marrying or becoming a strumpet. If only Dean had remembered that when 
he had berated her for marrying Buck.
"Well, if you change your mind you know I'm here."
A tentative smile teetered on Melissa's face, "Thank you, Kristian."
"Would you like to have a cup of tea or warm milk?"
Tucking in her chin demurely, Melissa nodded her head. "That would be nice."
The two tip-toed through the hall and down the stairs. As they waited for the 
water to boil, they sat down at the table across. Kristian was enjoying the 
companionable silence when Melissa blurted out, "When are you going to forgive 
Dean?"
Kristian stared in surprise at her. When she attempted to answer her, she hoped 
the irritation didn't show in her voice. "I think that is between your brother 
and me."
"No, it's not. We all live here too and you both are miserable. It's wearing on 
everyone's nerves."
Melissa's uncharacteristic bluntness shocked Kristian. She went from irritation 
to repentance instantly.
"It's just that he lied," she began. "And I don't know what I feel about --"
"Kristian, you two have been together since I can remember. You both have lived 
through hell and lived to find each other again. Seems to me a person should 
realize the true blessing that is and get over the details of how you got it. 
For heavens sake! You are having your second child together. Don't you want that 
to be a happy event?"
Kristian felt overwhelmed by the truth in Melissa's words. It was all so true. 
Was she focusing on the details too much?
"I just don't know if I can," she whispered, covering her face with her hands. 
"Why didn't he just tell me who he was?"
"Try to understand. He didn't know how you'd welcome his return. He thought 
maybe you had given up on him. He didn't know for sure if you thought he was 
dead. And you were married to another man, and not a very nice one either."
"Yes, but I feel so...so betrayed -- besides, I had no place else to turn. I had 
to marry Buck."
Melissa sat closer to the table, leaning on her elbows. "He didn't tell you that 
he'd spent the last six years of his life hunting for you?"
Kristian attempted to swallow the large lump forming in her throat, but failed. 
Closing her eyes she tried to remember the feelings of betrayal she'd held so 
close to her heart in the last few weeks.
She found nothing but longing. She longed to be held in his arms once again. She 
longed to share with him her pregnancy and watch his eyes round in discovery. 
She longed to hear his warm whiskey voice smooth over her, heating her from the 
inside out.
Perhaps it was a simple matter of forgiving and forgetting. She needed to think 
about this. It would be at least another six days before he returned, that 
should be plenty of time to sort her feelings out.
A shiver of alarm ran down her back as a small voice whispered to her that it 
was already too late. Shaking the uneasy feeling off, she focused on the words 
Melissa was saying.
"-- you should give him another chance."
Standing Kristian walked back to the stove and poured the hot water into the 
awaiting mugs. The baby kicked at her and she almost dropped the mugs to the 
floor.
She regretted that Dean wasn't here to share in the moment. But even if he were, 
would she have shared it with him? She didn't know what to say to Melissa and 
that disturbed her.
Fleeing up the stairs and down the empty hallway Kristian's mind raced. So many 
feelings whirled inside her head. She only had six days to sort them out. They 
were so young during the war. She trusted him to come home. He trusted her to 
wait. No one thought about a baby on the way. She sighed. One way or the other, 
she would know what to do when he returned.
CHAPTER 34
Kristian snapped her head around, hand on the back of the saddle for balance, 
and searched the tree line. Shadows and overgrowth offered endless hiding spots. 
The usual beauty of the natural splendor gave way to foreboding.
Someone was watching them.
She could feel it. Their eyes bore into her back. A shiver of apprehension 
tickled her spine. The sensitive hairs on the underside of her neck, stood on 
end. Her gaze swept back and forth, desperate to find the source. A lump of 
panic lodged in her throat. She and Reggie weren't far from the house.
"Reggie, lets go back.Now ."
"Oh, Mama, you said we could go to Peak Valley and back," Reggie whined. She 
loved riding the horse Dean had bought for her. Together, father and daughter, 
had dubbed the animal Princess, although Kristian suspected it was more on 
Reggie's part than Dean's. Since Dean's departure five days ago, Reggie had been 
aching to ride Princess.
Today, she'd relented, declaring her misgivings ridiculous.
But she'd been wrong.
Kristian touched the handle of the shotgun perched across her lap. Her finger 
caressing the trigger.
"No," Kristian answered curtly. She didn't look at Reggie but continued scanning 
the surrounding area.
Where were they hiding?
"Mama? What's wrong?"
Kristian heard the tremor of fear in Reggie's voice and tore her gaze from the 
shadows. Reggie frowned back at her mother, anxiety creasing the delicate dark 
brows.
Forcing a smile onto her tight features, Kristian said, "It's alright honey. I 
just need to rest, the baby tires me out."
Reggie's deep green eyes slid to Kristian's rounding stomach. Concern creased 
the plump corners of Reggie's mouth. "All right, I don't want you to be hurt. 
Lupe said you shouldn't be riding in your condition."
Kristian really did laugh a little then, Reggie sounded so cute trying to 
imitate Lupe's fluid accent. "I'm all right dumplin'. Let's just get back to the 
homestead."
"Sure."
On the short trip back Kristian kept the shotgun ready, her finger resting on 
the trigger. If anyone tried to apprehend them, they'd regret it.
***
"Mrs. Willis, do you have a minute?"
Kristian snapped her gaze up from the scattered papers strewn across the scarred 
kitchen table. Cowboy, dressed in dark trousers and a blue button up shirt, 
pulled taut across his mid-section, held his black felt hat in hand.
Kristian noted the uncertain smile plastered on his face and the nervous flitter 
of his gaze that never seemed to land on her for more than a second. She wasn't 
sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.
"What is it Cowboy?" Carefully laying her papers down, she focused her whole 
attention on him, preparing for the worst. What it could be, she didn't know. 
But from his nervous stance and odd behavior she waited, her whole body tense, 
for the bad news sure to follow.
"Well ma'am," his voice wavered, and he tugged at his already loose shirt 
collar. "I'm sure you're aware of my courting Lupe."
He paused, covering his mouth with a clenched fist to clear his throat. After he 
released a deep sigh, he forced out, "I've persuaded Lupe to marry me and I 
don't mean to let her think about it and change her mind. I plan on marrying her 
today but I feel obligated to ask your permission. I don't want to leave you 
here alone."
She relaxed and leaned against the high back of the chair. A shiver of dread ran 
down her spine remembering the feeling of being watched. Someone had been there, 
she was sure of it. She'd been very cautious since then, watching for anything 
out of place. Searching the deep recesses of the shadows under the great pine 
trees for movement. Nothing stood out. Nothing moved. Perhaps whoever it was had 
just been passing through.
But she instinctively knew they hadn't. They were still out there. The feeling 
of time folding in smothered her.
Cowboy cleared his throat again, discreetly covering his mouth with his hand.
She forced her thoughts to stop and smiled at Cowboy. In a smug voice she 
answered him, "I wondered how long it would take you to get around to that. Of 
course you may leave. I can handle things around here, don't you worry."
Cowboy hesitated, cocking a white eyebrow and meeting her eyes for the first 
time. "You're sure? We could wait until Dean gets back..."
Her heartbeat doubled in speed as she realized the ramifications, but she 
couldn't refuse him this. He was being more than generous by just asking. He and 
Lupe were willing to put off their own fulfillment to help her, to be there for 
her and Reggie.
Standing, she walked around the desk. "We'll be fine. Dean and the hands should 
be back any day now. Go! Get married and take good care of Lupe, she is 
irreplaceable."
The reluctance melted from Cowboy's weathered face, transforming it into a 
smooth plane of contours. "Yes, she is special. Thank you Mrs. Willis."
Kristian ignored the jibe to her gut at the use of her real last name.
Not long after she had learned of Dean's betrayal, he had visited Cleave and 
Mary, insuring their marriage was binding. Cleave had assured him that it was 
the words they shared that bound them, not the paper saying they had. The paper 
was a mere formality, which they cleared up by signing a new one. Kristian 
signed it only for the sake of her children.
Kristian found Lupe standing discreetly in the other room, far on the opposite 
side. She glanced at Kristian and then Cowboy, wringing a white handkerchief in 
her hands. Worry splayed across her face.
"Senora, I have tried to convince the fool to wait until Senor Dean comes home, 
but he insists it be today and --"
Kristian closed her arms around Lupe's ample body, squeezing her gently. 
"Congratulations Lupe, you deserve only happiness."
"Oh Senora!" Lupe buried her face into her handkerchief, pulling away from 
Kristian. Nosily she blew her nose. "I couldn't ask for a kinder woman to work 
for. Gracias Senora. Gracias."
Kristian was touched by Lupe's thoughtful words. "I'm the lucky one, to have 
such loyal people around me. Thank you."
Half an hour later, Lupe and Cowboy disappeared behind the bend in the road in 
Kristian's buckboard. Watching the wagon leave sent a sinking feeling hurtling 
into her stomach. A feeling of suffocation crashed down on her, as she 
remembered their conversation.
"We'll take only one night, Senora, and return tomorrow."
"We'll be in town if you need us." She had laughed and insisted, "Go, we'll be 
fine." With many more hugs and wishes for happiness, the pair set off for town 
and a preacher.
Kristian stared into the surrounding forest. The setting sun cast rays of 
crimson and salmon across the tips of the towering trees causing darkness to 
engulf the forest floor.
Goose bumps danced on Kristian's body.
Melissa, standing behind her, watched Kristian with concern.Closing the few feet 
between them, she slipped her hand into Kristian's.
"We'll be alright."
Kristian whipped her head around, staring blankly into Melissa's eyes for a 
moment. Quickly, she closed out the haunting shadows caused by the large pine 
trees and forced a brittle smile onto her lips.
"Yes, I know." Then an inspiration hit. "What do you say we treat ourselves to 
someone else's cooking tonight? I hear Mrs. Gumby is a fine cook."
"Nonsense, we'll have us a fine meal here. In fact since Cowboy will be gone we 
can all have a good wash down too." Melissa searched Kristian's eyes for the 
real reason behind her suggestion.
Hastily Kristian looked away, breaking the connection. "Well, no matter. Let's 
just all get inside, shall we. It'll be dark soon. If we want a bath, we'd 
better get busy."
With one last glance at the haunting shadows of the forest, Kristian led the way 
into the house.
Something was coming. Someone was watching them. She could feel it, sense it, 
smell it.
***
The women heated water for their baths. Since it was such a small tub they 
filled it twice. Kristian bathing after Reggie and Melissa using fresh water.
They made a meal of canned meat and vegetables. Lupe had prepared fresh bread 
and butter earlier in the day. The older woman had thoughtfully left a pitcher 
of her mysterious tea also.
Kristian couldn't help but smile when she found it waiting for them. All she'd 
been able to convince Lupe to admit to using in the tea was chamomile. Otherwise 
the teas were as mysterious today as the first time she'd tasted it.
Drinking deeply, Kristian looked around the battered table at her companions. 
Reggie laughed at something Melissa said. Her coal black hair bounced and 
shimmied with life as she shook her head in delight. Kristian raked her eyes 
across Reggie's relaxed features and knew that Dean was the reason they were so.
What more could she ask for? Kristian asked silently. The baby was due around 
the middle of August and here it was almost April. Kristian needed to forgive 
Dean and move on. After all what good was this stubbornness doing her?
She harbored a broken feeling deep in her soul. Her biggest fear was that Dean 
would never forgive her for marrying Buck Rosell.
She knew that he'd put it aside and tried to forget it, but it lurked in the 
corners of his mind; she could sense it whenever he looked at her.
That didn't mean that she had to carry this silent fight any further. In spite 
of her irritation with his cocky words before he left, she had thought about him 
a lot.She loved him . There was no getting around that.
Setting her glass down, careful to not make a sound, Kristian scooted her chair 
back and went to the lone window in the kitchen. Night had long since descended 
on them and she was afraid.
She started when small arms slid around her thickening waist. Looking down into 
mirror images of her own eyes, Kristian was struck by the concern shining out 
from them.
"Mama? Are you alright?" the tone she used snapped Kristian out of her 
despondent mood. Reggie hadn't used that tone since Buck had been alive. She was 
afraid.
Bending down, Kristian placed a light kiss upon the upturned nose. Smoothing 
errant locks from Reggie's forehead, Kristian smiled.
"Of course. I think we better get this meal cleaned up before it gets too late." 
She patted Reggie's back for a measure of reassurance and directed them back to 
the mess of dinner. But, when no one was looking, she used a burlap sack to 
cover the window, sealing out the darkness.
CHAPTER 35
"I think she has fallen asleep," Melissa whispered.
Kristian lifted her head, her gaze flittering from Melissa to Reggie. The girl, 
sprawled across the divan, snored softly. Her hair scattered across her face, 
falling over the edge of the blue upholstery.
Looking back at Melissa, the two women shared a knowing smile. They sat in 
respective rockers in front of the sputtering fire. Melissa worked on a 
pillowcase, embellishing it with hand made lace, as she slowly rocked back and 
forth.
Kristian had long since given up embroidering. Throughout the night, she'd often 
forgotten she held the loom and dropped it. Reggie had found it unbelievable 
that her mother could be so clumsy. Kristian had found little humor in the inky 
blackness of night. Careful not to allow her apprehension to show, she had 
smiled and forced a strained laugh. It was a relief to give up the pretense of 
happiness.
She was scared. She didn't know of what, but something...Something just wasn't 
right.
"What is it, Kristian?" Melissa asked.
Her voice surprised Kristian from the troubling emotions. She had forgotten 
anyone sat with her.
"And before you bother denying it let me say you haven't fooled me tonight. I've 
seen the wrinkle in your brow, the anxiety in your eyes."
Kristian was shocked by Melissa's words. She'd thought she'd held together 
rather well, considering the tension swelling in her. Reggie, had she noticed 
too? She darted a glance at the little girl's prone body, guilt washing over 
her.
"I don't think she noticed," Melissa answered the unspoken question. "Now, I 
would like to hear what's going on."
Kristian didn't know how to start. Did she tell Melissa that she didn't know how 
to repair her relationship with Dean? Or that she feared someone had been 
watching them for the better part of the last week?
A parody of a smile formed on Kristian's pale lips. "Really, Melissa, everything 
is just fine. I have to work through a few things, that's all."
"All right then. I guess I might as well retire for the evening." Melissa 
gathered her sewing supplies and placed them in a beautiful ivory cotton bag.
Reluctantly Kristian began extinguishing the few lamps still glowing. When all 
were out but two turned low, she banked the fire. Melissa gently roused Reggie 
from her slumber to walk to her room.
Suddenly, a loud pounding reverberated through the house. Kristian and Melissa 
both gasped with surprise, turning startled stares toward the demanding knock. 
Reggie sat up, eyes wide, disturbed by the uninvited guests.
"Kristian!" a male voice hollered.
Kristian's heart dropped to her feet. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Her 
breathing became shallow pants. She felt the blood drained from her face.
Shaking her head, she backed up until her back pressed against the rough stones 
of the hearth.It couldn't be !
He was dead!
Turning frantic eyes to Melissa she was met by alarm that only confusion could 
produce.
"Kristian, who is that?"
A resounding thump came from the door accompanied by a loud booming voice, "Open 
this door woman, and greet your husband!"
Kristian's body started shaking, like a dried fall leaf, desperately attempting 
to hang on to the branch. Time slowed, suspended.
Rooted to the spot by some invisible force, she couldn't move. Her fingernails 
bit into the tender palms of her hands, but she didn't feel it. Her whole being 
was focused on the splintering cracks coming from the door.
Buck was breaking down the door.In a matter of minutes the fiery pits of hell 
would consume her .
Kristian's head spun, causing a darkness to loom around her consciousness. He 
was back.
"Kristian?" Melissa's voice broke, panic edging on the tip of her words. Unaware 
of it, she formed an anchor for Kristian, securing her feet to the ground. 
"Kristian, what do we do?"
Dragging her gaze away from the door, she took in the two other people in the 
room. They were counting on her.
"It's my husband." Her voice was flat and all emotion had fled her face. She was 
no longer the Kristian Dean had aroused from the depths of despair. Now, she was 
Kristian Rosell again.The used woman .
Nothing mattered but getting Reggie and Melissa out. She had to save Dean's 
daughter and sister. If she could just get them out, life could slide from her 
body at Buck's hands and she'd accept it.
She dashed out of the room, Melissa following. The kitchen was swathed in 
blackness, all the lamps blown out earlier. Going to the window, Kristian peaked 
out from behind the burlap sack. All she could see was Buck. But she knew that 
he couldn't break in the solid door alone.
When she saw the other man step from the shadows her heart once again 
plummeted.Broody . She didn't waste precious time wondering how he had gotten 
here, but turned and took hold of Melissa's shoulders.
"I'm not going to make it out of here."
Melissa's eyes widened in disbelief but she remained silent.
"I need you to get Reggie out of here."
"How?"
"They won't think to watch the back door. They're far to sure that I'll be 
cowering in here. But this time they won't get her."
Melissa's eyes conveyed her sadness but she nodded. The women exchanged a quick 
hug before they returned to Reggie. Reggie's gaze was locked onto the shaking 
door and the vibrant emerald color had faded to a pale imitation.
Gripping her daughters arm with firm authority, she turned her. When that failed 
to gain her attention, she gave her a sharp shake and sternly ordered her 
daughter, "Look at me."
Kristian could feel the tremors racking Reggie's body and feared she would be 
unable to reach through her fright before it was too late.
"Reggie!" giving the child another sharp shake, Kristian kneeled down putting 
her face right in front of Reggie's. Slowly the girl's brittle gaze rested upon 
the woman's.
"Pa is still alive?" Tears flowed unchecked down Reggie's chubby cheeks.
Kristian shook her head no and leaned in closer to her daughter. "No Reggie, 
Buck isn't your Pa. I don't have time to explain, but Dean is your Pa. He is 
yourreal Pa. Now you have to hide -- with Melissa."
Raising her eyes to meet her mother's, Reggie asked, "Are you going to hide 
too?"
"No," Kristian shook her head weakly. "Buck wants me and in order for you and 
Melissa to reach safety I need to stay here."
Reggie's eyes went wide again and she shook her head, the waves of hair bouncing 
wildly around her head. "No, Mama, he'll hurt you. I don't want him to hurt you 
anymore."
Swallowing the constricting knot of emotion, Kristian held her tears at bay. "I 
know dumplin', me neither. I'll join you later. But right now I need you to take 
care of Melissa for me."
After a few heavy seconds, the steady pounding on the door filling the air, 
Reggie reluctantly nodded her head.
Giving her a smile of praise, Kristian rushed on, "Good girl. Now do you 
remember how to get to Songbird's camp?" Again Reggie nodded. "Good, when it is 
safe you take Melissa there, tell Songbird what has happened and send Black 
Eagle to find Dean. Can you do that for mommy?"
Little arms surrounded Kristian and hugged her with surprising strength. "I love 
you Mama."
This time the tears couldn't be held back. "I love you too, Reggie Leann Willis. 
You mind your Pa and take care of Melissa." Gently disengaging the fragile arms, 
Kristian abruptly stood.
Meeting Melissa's gaze, the two women exchanged silent good-byes. Kristian 
didn't expect to ever see the two of them again and Melissa knew it.
"Kristian, if you'd let me stay I think we could hold them off until --"
"No, you just keep my girl safe, that's all I ask. She will take you to some Ute 
Indians. Don't be afraid, they won't hurt you. Now please, just go." The last 
was uttered low and a sob almost caused it to be incoherent.
Melissa paused for only the merest fraction of a second and then, grabbing 
Reggie's hand in a gentle but firm grip, led her to the back door. The front 
door was beginning to emit loud cracking sounds and Kristian knew that at any 
moment the wood would give and Buck would be upon her.
"Mommy," Reggie called in one last frantic plea. "Please! Please, come too."
Kristian only shook her head; her throat was too strangled with emotion to say 
anything. Forcing a brave smile upon her face she waved goodbye to her beautiful 
daughter, blowing a kiss through the air.
Never again would she see that dark head of unruly hair. Never again would she 
hear the precious words of Mama called out from Reggie. Or be told that she was 
loved. Someone else would have to kiss Reggie's hurts away. Someone else would 
help her dress for her wedding.
Pain gripped her.
Rushing forward, Kristian pushed the bolt back in place. As the wood slid into 
place a deafening crack reverberated through the house. Before the bits of wood 
ceased falling, Buck and Broody burst into the room.
Trampling through the house, they separated, moving in different directions. 
Buck was the one to come into the kitchen.
"So I was right, you were gonna try and run." His black eyes glittered with smug 
satisfaction.
His words caused her heart to plummet to the bottom of her stomach. What if he 
had someone out there waiting? What if Reggie and Melissa had been caught? But 
his next words dispelled any worries she harbored.
"I should'a put someone out'er." Looking over his shoulder Buck yelled, "She's 
in here, Broody."
Facing her again, Buck smiled, sending shivers of dread throughout her. That 
smile Kristian had learned to fear. He walked towards her with cocky 
self-assurance.
While gritting his front teeth together, he hissed, "Ya thought you'd gotten rid 
of me, hadn't you?"
Kristian pressed her body against the wooden grains of the door. How she wished 
she could have fled with Reggie. But if she had, Reggie wouldn't have made it. 
Buck would hunt her down, she knew that. Her single hope was that Reggie and 
Melissa made it to Song Bird. Then maybe, just maybe, Black Eagle could find 
Dean and they could rescue her. If not...she would die.
Knowing her fate helped to no longer be afraid of Buck. She'd rather get it over 
with sooner than later. Lifting her chin high, she met Buck's cruel stare. Her 
cool emerald eyes brittle with accusations.
"I wish."
Buck narrowed his eyes in speculation. This wasn't the girl he had terrorized 
for years. A small measure of doubt crept across his features but a quick glance 
in Broody's direction forced him to continue. Lifting a gloved hand he 
backhanded her across her cheek.
"Whore!" he declared. "Did you enjoy lying down with another man? If that's 
whatcha'd call 'em."
Kristian pulled her head back around from the unnatural angle it had flown to 
with the forceful blow. She could already feel the flesh on her cheek swelling. 
Closing her eyes, she tried to close out the ugly things Buck was saying to her.
At that moment all the suffering she and Dean had inflicted upon each other 
seemed so unimportant. All that really mattered was the love they had felt for 
each other.
"Where's the brat?" Buck's demanded.
Snapping her blazing gaze back to Buck's she glared at him."She's gone."
Buck raised his hand and slapped her again. "I asked you a question."
Kristian wasn't afraid of his deafening volume anymore. Buck was weak and had to 
pick on those weaker than him.
"And I answered you. I sent her away."
"Well," he sputtered. "I want my daughter!"
Kristian watched his face turn red and a white line of anger form around his 
thin mouth. A smug smile formed on her dry lips.
"She isn't your daughter. Never was."
His black eyes hardened further and his mouth was pressed tight with irritation. 
"Then good riddance. But you're mine, till death do us part!" With that he 
clamped a hand around Kristian's upper arm and dragged her out the door.
Kristian stumbled along behind Buck. He wasn't allowing her enough time to get 
her feet beneath her. She could feel his fingers cutting into her tender flesh 
and bit her lower lip to keep the cry of pain from coming out.
When they stood a distance from the house he jerked her sharply around. His 
fingers tightened on her shoulders, biting into her.
"Take a goo' look Kristian, it's the last ye'll see of it." Raising his hand, he 
brought it quickly down in a decisive slash.
Kristian assumed he meant that she'd never be back here. But as she watched, 
Broody sloshed kerosene all around the outside of the house. Still in denial 
Kristian shook her head, surely she was misinterpreting what was happening. Then 
before her eyes Broody struck a match and flung it into the spilled liquid.
Flames engulfed the house instantly. Kristian screamed and tried to break free 
of Buck's painful grip but failed. Tears coursed down her cheeks. It wasn't so 
much that her home was burning down to the ground that bothered her. All the 
memories seemed to go up with those flames, too.
Dean would be left with nothing.
But that wasn't true; he would have Reggie and Melissa. That would be enough.
It would have to be.
CHAPTER 36
Dean slipped off his horse and eased the reins down Loco's head. Patting the 
horse's velvety neck lathered with sweat, he murmured words of praise. The pair 
had come a long way in a short amount of time.
Loosely holding the reins, he walked the path between trees that would 
eventually come out by the barn. The distance left would help him to organize 
his irrational thoughts. Not to mention that Loco needed cooling down.
The cattle drive had ran longer than he'd intended. It seemed as if everything 
was stacked against them. First a couple of rustlers thought them easy prey and 
tried to steal about fifty head of cattle. Chasing them down, cost one whole day 
and several bullets.
Then a few days later, a group of hired men stumbled across them. It was simple 
bad luck, they'd been looking for Dean, rather the Undertaker. Hired by the 
Howard's the men didn't care who they killed, as long as Dean was one of them. 
So after a two- day hold up the men had finally been taken down and the drive 
resumed.
For several days he'd felt an almost desperate urgency to return home. The 
unsettling insight ate at his tenacity to see the drive through. He'd fought the 
feeling for as long as possible before relenting. Placing the herd in Jim's 
capable hands he'd ridden hard all night to get here.
Now that he was here, he felt like a fool. Sometime during the night he'd 
managed to convince himself of his illogical behavior. But somethinglarger, 
stronger than his will power spurred him on.
It was a glorious morning; the birds chirped and sang out in impossibly high 
sweet tones, speaking to their lovers in their own dialect. Crisp wind bit into 
his cheeks and the sun warmed the top of his head whenever it peeked out from 
behind a towering pine tree. But Dean noticed none of it. All of his senses were 
peaked and ripened with apprehension. A chant of doom reverberated throughout 
his mind;you're too late, you're too late.
He fought the desire to drop the horse's reins and run the rest of the distance. 
Every muscle in his body was drawn as tight as a coiled spring, waiting for its 
release, edging on outright, unbridled panic. Gritting his teeth and clenching 
his fists, he lengthened his stride, quickening his steps. An unseen vice 
pinching his heart.
Stepping out from the shadows of the forest, the barn immediately came into 
view. Frozen, he absorbed the silence into his bones. Everything was fine. The 
air carried an unfamiliar odor that he couldn't quite put his finger on. 
Otherwise, the homestead appeared normal.
He just hoped Kristian would talk to him. It had been so long since he'd last 
found peace in her arms. He needed her warmth, her fire. A smile flickered 
across his face, starkly contrasting with his dust layered face. The thought of 
a hot bath and Kristian's welcoming arms spurred him into action.
Excitement replaced the eerie feelings he'd previously felt. And his steps and 
stride remained long. He couldn't wait to find his wife.
Coming around the barn, his steps faltered. His smile fell. The reins in his 
hand slipped away like a feather, unfelt. His whole body shook. It couldn't be 
happening again. For the second time in his life, his world shattered.
The house he'd left only days before was gone. Black, smoldering, ruins now lay 
in it's place. His feet stumbled forward, unable to stop, unable to resist the 
tangible proof that his life was over. Reaching the black ashes where the front 
steps of the two-story house had once been, he lurched to a stop.
Charred timbers lay in disarray, sprawled one over the other. Cold soot greeted 
him when he fell to his knees, the reins of the loyal Loco dangling by his ear. 
A rancid smell burned his nostrils. His eyes watered from the pain compressing 
his chest.
He plunged his hands into the remains, digging frantically. Desperate for an 
unknown reassurance. In his fists, he clutched handfuls of charred embers. 
Memories from the past flashed before his eyes, confusing him.
Despair curled in his stomach. He'd been too late. Kristian, his daughter and 
their unborn baby were dead. Melissa, his only remaining relative, ripped from 
his grasp.
As unchecked tears of blinding anguish flowed down his cheeks he buried his face 
in his hands. Ashes smeared black soot across his features imitating an Indian's 
war paint, warning he was out for blood.
Raising his full fists into the air, a howling cry tore from his lips, leaving 
his throat raw. Again and again his cry of despair echoed off the sides of the 
surrounding mountains. Until at last he could not speak, could not move, could 
not arouse the energy to care for anything other than his loss.
He knew he wouldn't be able to survive this again. To gain so much and then lose 
it in one final blow. At least the first time he'd known Kristian was out there, 
somewhere. Now she was gone to him forever, along with his daughter and sister. 
Lying down in the seared debris, Dean resigned to wait for death to claim him, 
too. Tears streamed from his cold pewter eyes and his spirit shattered into bits 
of death.
***
Sometime in the still of night, a large hand shook Dean's cold shoulder. He lay 
still, praying that one of the hired men out for his head would claim the 
illegal reward. Quickly, a shot to the head, anything to be put out of his 
misery.
Insistently the hand shook him, refusing to allow him rest. A long-suffering 
sigh emitted from him, a sound of hollowness echoing throughout it. Empty. Like 
him.
He forced his eyes to open a crack and focus on the violator of his darkness. 
Several minutes passed as he stared into the bleak serious brown eyes of Black 
Eagle. It took that long for the confusion and fuzziness that had settled in his 
mind to clear. But even then it was only to a certain degree, the rest he left 
in place as a protector of the meager amount of sanity left.
"She lives," Black Eagle spoke in his guttural English.
Immediately Dean's mind cleared and the fog that had surrounded his senses 
cleared. Whipping his body to ridged attention, Dean stood and narrowed his 
glowing eyes.
"What? Where?"
Black Eagle stood erect, proud, refusing to be intimidated by Dean. He took a 
moment, searching for the right words, before speaking again.
"Reggie came to camp with woman, say Kristian in trouble. Buck."
That one word seemed to reverberate inside Dean's head.Buck . How could that be? 
He was supposed to be dead. But he wasted no time deriving the possibilities. It 
was true, that was all he needed to know.
"How long ago?" Dean demanded, silently cursing the difficulty caused by the 
diverse languages.
"Two days."
***
Kristian stumbled and quickened her footing to catch herself before hitting the 
hard ground. A protruding branch stabbed through her dirty, ripped skirt and 
dragged down her shin, adding another scratch to the accumulating bloody mess on 
her legs. Impatiently she shook her head, trying in vain to shake the tangled 
hair away from her face.
Feeling another tug on her bound wrists, Kristian rushed to catch up, avoiding 
another spill. Her abraded wrists throbbed and blood tinged the hemp rope. A 
long lead rope attached her to the pommel of Buck's saddle.
For four days now she'd been walking behind Buck's horse. Following the 
despicable men to an unknown destiny. Every so often Buck gave a swift tug on 
the rope to remind her of who was in charge.
Her thoughts slipped again to the first night of her capture. The two men, 
intent on enjoying her favors, began stripping her of her clothing. Kristian 
fought with all her strength, but it didn't make a difference.
With nothing but her chemise and drawers blocking them from her charms, Buck 
suddenly froze. His gaze was riveted to her rounded abdomen. He blinked 
repeatedly, shock making his mouth hang agape. Kristian saw the daze of malice 
and hatred cloud his eyes.
Broody, tired of waiting on his big brother, groped for the hem of her chemise. 
Buck shoved Broody's frantic hands aside and when that didn't deter Broody, he 
punched him in the stomach.
"She's breedin'!" he bellowed. Buck leaned into her face, spittle from his mouth 
splattering Kristian's face. "Ain't ya?"
Kristian swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping she looked steadier than she 
felt. She'd known Buck would be furious when he discovered the impending child.
"Yes." She didn't dare lie to him.
His fury caused her to tremble, despite her valiant efforts to avoid it. Knowing 
death was upon her and actually staring it in the face were two completely 
different things.
Buck stomped toward the fire. Sitting down on the dirt, he narrowed his hard 
eyes at her. He watched her every movement, glaring a warning of impending 
danger. Finally, he tied the lead rope to her wrists and the other end to him. 
She'd been attached to him like that ever since. Never far from reach, forever 
at his mercy.
Broody had stayed on the opposite side of the fire after that, noticing a 
difference in Buck also. His eyes traveled the length of her often, but never 
once did his hands touch her again that night.
Early the next morning, Kristian had woken up to see Buck still sitting there by 
the cooling cinders of the fire watching her. The demented aura emanated from 
him. She doubted he'd even slept.
In slow uneven steps, Buck came to her. He bent down, leaning upon one knee. 
Reverently he touched her hair, smoothing it back from her face. He sifted his 
chubby, short fingers through her hair, ignoring the snags and tangles that made 
her wince.
"I've been awake all night... thinkin'." Once more his hands delved into the 
matted mess of her hair but instead of combing through it, he grabbed a fistful 
and yanked her head back sharply. Bringing his face down close to hers, he 
ground out, "I'm gonna sell that brat after you have it. Then yer gonna suffer 
as many men 'tween yer legs as possible 'till it kills ya." Viciously, he thrust 
her away from him. Standing over her, he relished the horrified expression upon 
her face. He smiled smugly and jerked her to her feet.
"No," she whispered, her throat tightly constricted with disbelief. "Why? Why 
would you punish an innocent child?"
He shrugged, enjoying her pain. "Because I can."
Suddenly fury surged through her. How dare he! She would somehow find a way to 
escape. Or...She would kill him. The thought made her question for the first 
time his reasons for pretending to be dead.
"Why did you do all this? Why did you fake your death? And who was in that 
coffin?"
Buck's yellow smile widened further, his pride obvious. "I had ta. That damn man 
you've been whorin' with threatened to kill me if I showed back up here." His 
eyes changed to a dangerous malice, causing Kristian to take a step back. "And 
the man in the box was just some unlucky bastard we saw on the trail."
She believed him. He had always been a coward. She should have known better. She 
should have fled the area before he came back to get her.
"I was there."
That gave her pause, not following his train of thought.
He continued on without prompting. "At the church. I was in the back."
Kristian gasped.
"I wanted to see yer reaction. Proved to be the right move, you were only too 
'appy to be rid of me," he sneered. "I vowed then and there to come back for ya. 
To beat ya 'til know who owns ya!"
His gaze traveled down to her belly. "But you even ruined that for me. Why 
couldn't you have been more accommodating, like Emily? She was always willin ta 
do what I wanted." His eyes clouded over with an almost whimsical expression, 
the memory of Emily's death playing across his face. He gave the rope a tug.
Since then she'd been walking. Night and day. Stopping briefly during the 
darkest hours for the two men to catch a few hours of sleep. Buck, still 
punishing her, threatened her with beating despite her condition if he caught 
her sleeping. She had no reason to doubt him.
So far he had restrained himself from hurting her but that wasn't to say it 
would continue. She slept only when she couldn't force herself to stay awake any 
longer, and that was only when the two men were asleep.
She trudged along behind the sorrel Buck rode. Broody rode behind her, his 
heated gaze burning holes in the seat of her drawers. He'd lusted after her, 
since that first night, sneaking a grope when Buck wasn't looking.
Broody saw no reason not to enjoy her but Buck threatened him with castration, 
so he refrained. For that, Kristian was grateful. She would have lost her mind 
had Broody taken her.
The whole time, her thoughts were filled with Dean.If he had found Reggie and 
Melissa yet .If he had even returned yet .
She missed him. Longed for his safe arms. She felt like such a fool to have 
wasted the last few, precious, months fighting. It no longer mattered who he had 
been. All that mattered was what they had shared.
She was glad he'd been gone from the homestead when Buck had come for her. He 
would have tried to save her and been killed in the process. Reggie needed him. 
Buck jerked her back to the present with a swift pull on the rope. The 
combination of her exhausted muscles and unexpected force sent her stumbling 
again. A large rock grated against her knee. Warm sticky liquid slid down her 
leg.
"I could always hope for gangrene," she mumbled.
"What?" Broody barked to her.
She didn't bother to answer him but trudged on.
CHAPTER 37
She looked like hell.
She sat cross-legged in front of the crackling fire. Her hair had long since 
lost its pins and hung down around her face in knots. Dirt smudges marred her 
creamy complexion and her clothing lay in shreds. He could see her bare legs 
through the rips in her skirt; bloody and bruised.
Eyes closed, her head dipped and her chin touched her chest. Buck cruelly pushed 
her with his booted foot, knocking her onto her back and laughing. Dean's head 
pounded with the white-hot fury burning inside him.
The small party had been simple to track, leaving a trail any fool could follow. 
Black Eagle had insisted on awaiting the return of his hunting party before 
finding her. But Dean had gone on after her alone.
"White Fool. Very brave but takes many warriors, not just one, for victory."
Black Eagle's parting words came back to him. Squatting behind the thick brush 
outside their camps did not change his mind
Dean knew he could get the drop on Buck. He wasn't expecting him. Broody had 
left the camp earlier.
Crouching low, he crept forward hiding behind the thick bushes as long as 
possible before revealing his presence. Buck had his back to Dean, bent over the 
fire. Standing up, Dean walked slowly towards him, stepping lightly. He didn't 
want a breaking twig to alert Buck before he was ready.
He cast one glance towards Kristian, his heart wrenching at her pitiful 
appearance, and saw that her eyes had drifted shut once again. Standing erect, a 
mere ten feet behind Buck, he aimed both his .45's at the man's back. With his 
thumbs, he pulled back the hammers, cocking the guns, ready to blow the man to 
hell. Hearing the distinct sound, Buck froze. Anyone worth his grit knew what 
the sound meant.
"Drop the belt, slowly," Dean's voice was solemn and steady, but malice laced 
each word.
"Dean?" Kristian's voice cracked through the early morning hours, hoarse from 
lack of water. Hope and distress edging her words. "How'd you get here?"
Keeping his eyes on Buck's moving hands, Dean replied, "Later, darlin'."
The solid thunk of Buck's gun belt hitting the ground broke the reunion.
"All right, now I want you to step away from Kristian. If you make a move toward 
her I'll drop you."
Buck didn't speak. He simply did as Dean instructed, separating himself from 
Kristian. Dean felt confident. Kristian stood safely behind him. He'd tie Buck 
up, sling him over the horse and get Kristian the hell out of here.
"Turn around," Dean instructed. He wanted Buck to try something,anything , to 
give him an excuse.Just one excuse .
Buck turned around and dropped his arms as a smile of satisfaction curved his 
lips. A muffled scream came from behind Dean.
Spinning on his heel, he found Broody, hand clamped over Kristian's mouth. 
Kristian's arms were still bound but Broody held her tightly and the gun pointed 
at Dean.
When he opened his eyes again, Buck had joined Broody and held his guns in his 
hands. "Things have a way of turnin' round, don't they? I just soon have you 
toss those pistols down."
When Dean didn't immediately comply, Buck cocked his gun and held it to 
Kristian's temple. "Do it."
With those two words, Dean's last hope of living vanished. Grudgingly, he tossed 
his guns towards Buck's feet. "Just let her go. You've done enough to her."
A muscle in Buck's jaw ticked in irritation. Putting his guns away, Buck ambled 
closer to Dean. Dean's gaze cut toward Broody, who still held the rifle pointed 
at him. Trying to measure the distance to safety, Dean cut a glance at Kristian.
"Did she tell ya about all the men she's had?" Buck asked insolently. "Yep, she 
enjoys a wide range of men; don't care none if they clean or not."
Dean growled low in his chest and slugged a smug Buck in the jaw. Butck picked 
himself up from the ground, dusting his trousers off with the palms of his 
hands.
"You've just made a mistake. I'd hoped to just send you packin'. But I can see 
that ain't gonna happen." Looking over at Broody, Buck gave a slight nod.
There wasn't enough time to get out of the way. The warning Dean instinctively 
felt had come too late. Broody lifted his hand and pulled the trigger.
When she'd seen the nod of Buck's head, Kristian had known what was coming. 
Throwing all her weight at Broody's arm she managed to knock his hand to the 
right. But the bullet still found its target. A huge crimson stain leeched 
across Dean's shirt.
She watched in shock and horror as Dean fell to his knees. With one last 
searching look at her, he fell backwards. Landing on the hard ground with a 
solid, sickening thump.
"No!" her scream ripped from her throat. "No Dean! No!"
Broody released his hold on her, allowing her to fall to the ground beside Dean. 
Her hands, held together by the rope, ran across his chest searching for the 
wound, desperate to help him. Warm blood seeped from a gaping whole by his 
shoulder, staining her fingers.
Panic consumed her. She covered the wound with her hand, trying to stifle the 
flow. Blood slipped up and around her splayed fingers. Ripping away the dirty 
hem of her dress, she bunched it against the wound, pressing hard.
"Ka..y," Dean whispered. "I'm s...so...sorry."
Lifting her skirt, she used her teeth and fastened hands to rip more cloth off 
her frayed and filthy petticoat.
"Don't be silly," she attempted to sound reassuring but even to her own ears her 
voice was strained. "Everything is going to be alright." She smiled weakly, but 
then his eyes drifted shut, the smile dropped, forgotten. "Don't you dare leave 
me! Do you hear?"
In awkward movements, she wrapped the strip of cloth around his shoulder and 
chest, tying the permeated pad beneath. She pulled the knot tight over his 
wound, wincing when he grunted with pain. His shaking hand came up to cup her 
cheek as his eyes fluttered open.
His attempt to speak brought fresh tears to her eyes. His breath wheezed out of 
his mouth and deep gurgling echoed from his chest. "I...I...love...you."
Kristian touched her head to his chest, not caring about the blood. Grief 
consumed her. He couldn't leave her.
Looking deep into his silver eyes, she ran her hand across his darkly stubbled 
cheek. "Don't you leave me Dean! I love you too much! I can't lose you again. Do 
you hear me?"
Kristian felt a hard arm curve around her middle and yank her upright. While 
she'd been caring for Dean, Buck and Broody had been repacking their meager 
supplies. Now they were ready to leave.
Kristian kicked and screamed. Using her teeth and nails as never before. "Dean!" 
she screamed over and over. They were taking her away from Dean. He needed her. 
"Dean!"
"Kristian..." His hand outstretched and he made a weak attempt to roll to his 
knees. But all his strength had drained with the blood staining the ground and 
he collapsed.
She watched with horror as his eyes fluttered shut and his hand fell, lifeless, 
to his side. Buck threw her unceremoniously onto the back of his horse. She 
didn't think of consequences, but simply of getting back to Dean, raising her 
foot she kicked Buck in the middle of his chest.
He stumbled backwards, more from surprise than from her force. She jumped down 
from the horse, sprinting to reach Dean's side. Before she could reach him 
though Buck's powerful arms clasped around her, swinging her around to face him. 
His hazel eyes, dark with malice, burned into her. Before she could react, she 
felt his hard rounded knuckles make painful contact with her jaw.
A searing jolt ran throughout her body. Unaware of moving, she crumbled to the 
ground in a heap. Kristian fought the darkness descending on her, forbidding the 
icy coolness to infiltrate her body.
Just before all thoughts cleared from her mind, she remembered Christmas,Dean 
holding Reggie to hang the beautiful cornhusk angel.
***
Dean was dead.
Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. It was too late. She would never forgive 
herself.
"You ain't no damn use at all!" Broody complained, as he stormed around the 
meager camp.
Kristian didn't care. She hadn't spoken to either man since being wrenched from 
Dean's side. She stared sightlessly into the flames. It popped and sizzled 
endlessly, emanating a sweet aroma.
"I don't know why I can't jus' have a 'lil of ya. I won't hurt the brat," Broody 
mumbled to himself. When Kristian didn't acknowledge his presence, sitting so 
close to her, he sneered, "With all that blood on ya, yer lucky I even look at 
ya."
Kristian frowned. They'd each said things to rile her since she'd awoke but none 
of it had touched the icy core she held firmly in place.
Dean was dead.
For days now, she'd tried to pretend it wasn't so, imagining him returning to 
rescue her at any minute. Picturing him back at the ranch with Reggie. But the 
memory of his blood pouring out prevented her fantasy to continue.
Without asking for permission, Kristian abruptly stood and walked toward the 
small brook flowing nearby. The lead rope trailed along the ground, forgotten. 
Broody followed behind her, speechless with her audacity.
The water trickled by in a sedate pace, licking all the smooth stones touched by 
the previous liquid lover. Leaving the stone a little softer as it left, only to 
be replaced by another wet kiss. Damp soil lined the bank of the water and, 
without thought; Kristian dropped to her knees.
Cupping her hands, she scooped up the icy water, splashing her face. The crisp 
cutting edges of the liquid brought back cognizance. As her hands retreated from 
her face, she watched the remaining blood tinged water leak in-between her 
fingers, mixing with the larger brook, gliding down the path of polished rocks.
Tears burned her cheeks, warming the coolness left by the cleansing. Hysterics 
bubbled from her throat, choking her. With uneven, hurried motions she splashed 
more water on her face, frantic to wash away the proof of Dean's death. She 
picked up sand from the bottom and scrubbed her face until it shone pink.
Then, as grief once again swamped her, she buried her head into her hands, 
allowing aching sobs to escape from her mouth.
Broody stood over her, watching her breast sway with every movement of her arms. 
Her torn dress allowed him a clear shot of her cleavage. His body responded to 
the visual inducement.
With bulging eyes, he searched for any signs of Buck's return but didn't see 
any. The little whore Buck was so fond of would keep him busy at the saloon for 
a few more hours, at least. All Broody needed was five minutes and he'd be done 
with Kristian.
With brutal strength, he jerked her upright. Her face dripping wet, he stared. 
He was struck with the desire to lick each and every drop from her face. But 
knew he didn't have the time. When his gaze locked with Kristian's, his hands 
fell away.
The vibrant green they'd once been was gone, replaced by a hard, empty dullness.
Kristian stared at Broody, unconcerned. It didn't matter what he did to her, 
they'd already ripped the very life from her chest.Dean .
Slowly Broody's hand raised, palm out. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, six 
men came out of the surrounding shadows distracting them both. Each of the 
strangers wore a duster, heavily soiled with trail dirt. The sides of their 
coats were pushed back, allowing the dark handles of their guns to show.
One man came forward but the rest remained back and continually searched the 
trees for any unusual movements that would give away an enemy. Kristian 
evaluated the men unemotionally. She felt detached. As if watching it from afar.
Broody stiffened and his hand came to rest beside the pistol, twitching with an 
effort not to draw.
"I wouldn't try it, cowboy," the man warned him in easy melodic moderation. The 
tenor and facial expressions of the man belied the situations explosive 
repercussions.
The man was dressed differently than the others. He wore a yellow Macintosh 
slicker, but under it was a loose fitting white shirt, laced up the front. At 
his neck a red handkerchief tied into a charming knot, and unlike the other men, 
he didn't have a gun strapped onto his thigh. Instead, he carried a rifle in his 
hand and a whip strapped to his belt.
Moving the metal end of the weapon the man motioned them back to the fire. "Why 
don't we all have a seat."
Broody gripped her upper arm painfully, dragging her along beside him. He thrust 
her down into the dirt, before turning to the unwanted visitors.
"I said sit down,friend ," the man ground out, losing the façade of charm. The 
man raised just the tip of the rifle in Broody's direction but his associates 
pulled their guns out, palming them.
Broody swallowed, his Adams apple sliding up and down his throat. But finally he 
backed up and sat down in the dirt beside Kristian. His hands balled into fists 
and he narrowed his eyes at the man but said nothing.
The man remained quiet. Walking around the campfire, he kicked red-hot embers 
back into the careless pile of burning logs. Using a shirt recently discarded by 
Broody, he picked up the fire-blackened kettle and shook it. Feeling the 
familiar slosh of liquid he lifted the lid and smelled it. His face scrunched up 
in disgust and he tossed the brew out into the bushes.
Finally, he walked back around the flames and bent down, leaning back on his 
heels. "I've been hired by a very important man back East. I've chased a known 
gunslinger all over this damn country and I'm not in the mood for any jawing. 
They call him theUndertaker ."
Kristian's world turned on its axis. Tilting madly, until her vision distorted. 
Broody was shaking his head in denial and saying words that Kristian couldn't 
seem to understand.
Suddenly an inspiration struck her. Before she could change her mind, she spoke, 
"I know him." She barely recognized her own voice, for the tremble disguising 
it.
The man's brilliant blue eyes snapped to her face. She could read mistrust there 
and a moment of doubt entered her thoughts. His gaze traveled the length of her 
torn and filthy dress, pausing slightly on the bulge at her abdomen. The man's 
natural good looks, only moments before hard and grimly set, now softened as 
they settled on her face.
Broody nudged her painfully with his elbow. "Shut up!" Then he looked at the 
stranger again, "Jus' 'nore her. She don't know nothin'! She's just mad at her 
husband, nothin' more."
The man's perceiving stare never wavered from Kristian's, but he spoke to his 
minions, "Shoot him if he speaks again."
Kristian stared with astonishment at the men surrounding him. Each had their gun 
pointing at their prisoner. Broody shifted nervously and sweat beaded his brow 
and upper lip.
With a calmness that surprised her, Kristian smiled. The man stood and strolled 
around the fire to reach her. He bent down and gently clasped her wrist. She 
didn't ask the burning question of what he was going to do, but silently stood 
with his assistance. He pulled a knife from behind his hip and sawed through her 
binding.
He allowed her hands to drop and sauntered toward the trees. Kristian followed 
him, knowing that was what was expected. When they had reached a safe distance 
to prevent eavesdropping, the man turned around to confront her.
"And why exactly would you be willing to share your information with me?" 
Suspicion narrowed the man's eyes and cast a shadow over his face.
"Because he's beat me enough that I don't have much sympathy for him anymore," 
she lied. Her emerald eyes blazed with memory of Dean falling, a crimson stain 
spreading across his chest. "And he isn't my real husband. I'm married to 
another man and I want to go back to him."
The man's blue eyes fell to her swelling stomach. Kristian gasped when he laid 
his palm against it.
"Is he the Pa to this babe you're expecting?"
Kristian bit her lower lip hard to fight off the tears that threatened. She 
glanced down at her stomach where the unborn baby grew, nestled inside a warm 
and safe place.
When she raised her head to look at the man again, her eyes once again were 
hard, determined.
"Yes, he is. The man you are looking for took me from my home and family. I just 
want to go back."
The man looked at her for few seconds, measuring her words. "All right, tell me 
where I can find him."
Kristian cringed from the fierce look in the man's eyes, he was definitely not 
someone to lie to. But what choice did she have?
"He went into town. There is a whore there that he is fond of, at least that is 
what Broody said."
"I understand he has scars all over his face."
Shaking her head, she hoped she could convince him. This was her only way out. 
"No, that is just a tale to scare off people."
Once again the man looked suspicious. "I thought he'd been injured in the war?"
Kristian's heart beat faster and she prayed she could lie convincingly. With a 
saucy smile, she said, "He was, but not where everyone can see it."
Awareness dawned on the man and he laughed uproariously. "You're awfully fun to 
talk to ma'am. I wish I could stay here and chat with you the whole day through, 
but I've got business to take care of." He firmly took her forearm in his huge 
hands and directed her back towards the fire and Broody.
Kristian dug in her heels and fought the man's momentum. Stopping, he looked 
down at her with a mixture of impatience and amusement. "What is it now?"
"I think I'll just head on out the opposite way, if you don't mind."
"I'm sorry but I'm gonna need you to identify him for me," his tone was 
apologetic but she could tell he was set.
Men and their damn stubborn minds! She fumed silently.
Broody started to protest when the stranger pulled her up in front of him on the 
horse. When one of his partners, still on the ground, shoved his gun half way up 
Broody's nose, however, he shut up fast. If it weren't such a serious situation 
she'd have laughed.
The outlaws rode hard and fast. The man behind her wasn't about to take longer 
than he had to. At one point he did lean down and ask her if she was all right. 
Kristian could only nod and hold on to the pommel.
Kristian couldn't believe the incongruity of this outlaw; polite to a fault, no 
uttering of crude or vulgar words, and he kept his hands to himself. He was a 
gentleman, but Kristian knew he was here to kill the Undertaker. If things had 
been different he would have been after Dean. In fact, he was after Dean. But he 
wouldn't find him...
That thought brought the situation at hand back into her mind. Buck...Could she 
do it? He had beat and terrorized her and Reggie for the last six years. And 
now, he planned to sell her unborn baby to Comancheros after it was born.
If ever any man needed killing, it was Buck Rosell. When she thought of what 
he'd done to Dean a swell of fury built up in her chest. Before long, they 
arrived at the little town of Oro City.
The outlaw behind her directed the horse to the front of the saloon. Facilely 
dismounting from the horse, he tied the reins to the hitching post. As he came 
back around the horse he patted the beast's neck and looked up at her from the 
corner of his eyes.
"You ready?"
Kristian knew he must sense her reluctance. Biting her lip, she nodded. With 
awkwardness due to her progressively expanding stomach, she swung her leg over 
the pommel of the saddle to dismount. She stiffened with surprise at the touch 
of his hands on her sides, helping her down. As soon as her feet touched the 
ground and she had her balance though, his hands dropped. Kristian took an 
involuntary step back, fighting to keep the fear from her face.
He turned then and led the way up the wooden boardwalk to the saloon. The 
graying wood on the exterior of the building boasted a newly painted sign that 
declared the place Rose's. Kristian pictured the only whore named Rose she'd 
ever known. The saloon's swinging double doors announced their arrival with a 
loud squeak. The sun had begun to set outside and her eyes adjusted quickly to 
the dim light of the interior. She heard the quiet muffle of bodies shifting to 
stare at the newcomers.
She felt a slight prod to her back and realized she'd stopped in her tracks. The 
other five men waited just inside the entrance for her to move. She 
automatically began to apologize but, seeing the deadly seriousness in the men's 
eyes, her words died in her throat.
The outlaw turned around and firmly, but gently, grasped her arm, tugging her to 
stand beside him. A shiver trickled down her spine, fingers of cold fear teasing 
her body. When she looked up at the man's hard face set with determination she 
couldn't hide the expression of alarm playing across her face. Lingering in his 
eyes was a cruelty she hadn't noticed before.
"Where is he?"
The low, dangerous voice seemed to vibrate through her, causing her to feel the 
words rather than hear them. The furious beat of blood pounding through her 
veins echoed inside her head. She honestly doubted she could have heard anything 
at that moment. Swallowing the lump of dread forming in her throat, she surveyed 
the filthy bar.
Men sat at various chipped tables around the room. Spittoons were scattered on 
the floor but it looked like the men had gotten tired of trying to hit them 
because the floor was covered in sticky brown spittle. A hazy cloud of smoke 
lingered in the air, mixing with a sickening smell of stale sweat and vomit.
Two men leaned against the long pine bar, seriously staring into their drinks. 
It wasn't hard to see that the six men and a bit of a woman weren't here for 
socializing.
Tired looking whores, smoking cheroots, leaned against the stairwell. Their 
scantily clad bodies appeared filthy, even from this distance. They looked 
suggestively at each of the new arrivals. Kristian didn't need to turn her head 
to know that the men were surveying the goods the harlots offered for sale. A 
wave of bile threatened her throat.
With small thanks for blessings, she once again met the deep blue eyes of the 
outlaw. She shook her head. "He isn't here."
The man's jaw tightened and flexed, but he relaxed it before speaking again.
"Look carefully."
"I'm sorry, but he isn't here." She wrenched her hands together, ringing them in 
silent worry. Buck wasn't here; would they let her go?
The mystery man's cheek twitched and a tight line of irritation circled his 
lips. Turning with military crispness, he stormed up to the bar demanding the 
bartender's attention with a solid thump on the worn counter.
"What'll ya have?" the man asked, sweat beading his upper lip, and a yellow, 
sickly pallor coloring his face.
The outlaw didn't waste time. He grabbed the man behind the bar by his collar 
and pulled him up and onto the bar. The barkeeper hung precariously by the shirt 
collar, half on the bar, half off. An immediate hush fell over the room, and all 
five of the man's lackeys pulled their guns. Many men began to ease out of the 
room, hands raised in show of respect and surrender.
"I'm only going to ask you this once, you hear?" The outlaw's nose was mere 
inches from touching the scared man's face. When the owner nodded his head, the 
outlaw continued. "Is there any men upstairs being entertained?"
"Y-yes. Just one."
"Good." The outlaw let go of the bartender allowing him to drop to the 
disgusting floor. Giving not a second glance to the fallen man, the outlaw 
started for the stairs.
Kristian ran forth, "Wait, please!"
"Please, let me see him first." When she saw the doubt and suspicion flitter 
through the man's eyes, she rushed on, "I can make sure it's him."
Slowly nodding his head, the outlaw agreed. Not waiting for him to change his 
mind, she scrambled up the stairs. Once on the landing overlooking the bar, she 
glanced in both directions. To the left were two doors and to the right were 
three. She decided to go with the odds and moved to the right.
Luck was with her, for the first door she opened there stood Buck, half dressed. 
A naked woman lay upon the bed, barely raising her head to look at the new 
arrival. If her black eye was any indication, she'd earned her pay for the 
night.
Pausing to look up from buttoning his trousers, Buck glared at her. He hastily 
jerking on his shirt and stomped across the bare planks of the floor.
"What the hell are you doing here and where is that no good brother of mine?" 
His spittle sprinkled Kristian's face and she opened her mouth to warn him of 
her deed. But before she could utter another word, he shoved her out of his way, 
knocking her hard into the wall.
"Buck," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. She felt horrible about her 
decision; she had to get him out of here.
"Shut up, whore." Buck had finished buttoning his shirt and started down the 
stairs.
Kristian eased down the wall to sit upon the floor of the balcony. Ignoring the 
gunfire and screams coming from below. She had tried. She had tried to warn him.
She had brought them here, but Buck had finished it.
When all was quiet, Kristian leaned over the balcony to survey the damage. Buck 
lay in a heap, only a foot away from the bottom rung. Two of the outlaw's men 
lay bleeding into the wooden floor. Even at death, Buck had managed to take two 
men with him.
Kristian sank back against the wall, weary. Buck was dead. This time for good. 
Closing her eyes, she heard the outlaw talking to someone below.
"No, he's no kin to me." When asked if he knew the man's name, he responded, 
"The Undertaker." Kristian heard several sharp intakes of air and was truly 
amazed.
They didn't know how right they were; the Undertaker really was dead. But now, 
so was Buck Rosell.
CHAPTER 38
"Hey."
Kristian jumped when she heard the female whisper. Opening her eyes, she saw the 
woman that'd been laying on the bed only moments before. She was covered in a 
transparent white wrapper, coal lined her eyes and bright rouge covered her 
cheeks and lips. The carmine had also been applied to the woman's nipples, 
causing them to stand out through the transparent fabric. Kristian fought to 
keep the disgust from curling her lip.
"You need to get outta here 'fore Rose catches you. She's even meaner than that 
man down there." Kristian knew she was referring to Buck and couldn't believe 
anyone could be worse than he could. She wasn't in the position to test the 
validity of it, though.
"How?" Kristian whispered back.
"There's a back stairway. Come on, I'll show you." Awkwardly, Kristian stood up 
and followed the woman. She led her away from the stairs, far in the rear of the 
building.
Kristian stepped onto the landing and called to the woman, "Thank you." She 
didn't respond but shut the door firmly in place.
When she stood on the ground again, she stared around her, unsure of what to do 
next. She had no way home. No money and no horse. They had walked at least five 
days to get here, so it would take her that long again, by foot. On horse she 
could probably make it in two to three days.
She scanned the dark street for anyone watching her and was relieved to find 
herself alone. She had to get home to Reggie. And to bury Dean. Was he still out 
in the forest somewhere?
She strolled up to a healthy looking pinto tied haphazardly to the hitching 
post. The horse nickered and side stepped at the unfamiliar smell of Kristian as 
she drew near. Stretching her hand out, she stroked the mare's velvety neck and 
murmured reassuring words. The animal sniffed at her shoulder and neck and 
Kristian ran her hands across the muscular build of the mare.
Suddenly a hand clamped over Kristian's mouth and her back was slammed against a 
hard chest.
"So you thought to get away from me?"
Broody. A sigh of irritation escaped her. Would she never be rid of this family?
Kristian shook her head and pulled on his hands but he out powered her without 
trying. Before she could escape from his manacle hold, Broody had her on his 
horse in front of him and galloped quickly out of town.
They returned to the campsite, Broody holding an arm around her waist like a 
vise the whole ride. Once they reached their destination he threw her down from 
the horse, laughing at her surprise. Somehow she managed to roll and avoid 
injury but her stomach ached from the bone-jarring drop. Without another moment 
of hesitation she ran towards the trees.
Broody realized his folly immediately and jumped from the horse, cursing her. 
She knew he was behind her and she ran all the faster. His footsteps pounded the 
forest floor behind her, twigs snapping and brush rattling. His breathing seemed 
to fall across her neck and several times she expected his arms to cease her 
flight.
Blending her steps into the night sounds, she sank into the dark shadows of the 
night. She crept along the bushes and fallen logs, careful to remain outside the 
moons telltale rays.
Kristian crouched low behind a large wild lilac bush. The sporadic appearance of 
the half-moon shining through the trees touched on her boots and she pulled them 
tighter into her.
Closing her eyes, she tried to enhance her hearing, listening for any movement. 
Broody had long since fallen silent, and although he was a complete fool, he was 
good at hunting.
Nothing. No sounds came from any direction. Her heart pounded, her breaths 
became shallow and her body was drenched in nervous sweat. This was her only 
chance. She must outlast him.
She didn't know how long she stayed there, but as her muscles began to cramp she 
knew it would soon be morning. Taking long deep breaths, she forced herself to 
remain calm and to think through her exhaustion. If all else, Broody would wait 
her out. The first light of the day would easily reveal her hiding place.
Before dawn came, she would have to be long gone.
When a hand clamped around her mouth for the second time that night she started 
crying. She didn't fight. Didn't attempt to scream. Broody would use her until 
she dropped. There was nothing left to do but relent.
"It is I, Walking Ghost." Kristian straightened and then sagged against the 
great bare chest. Her friend. Black Eagle. Relief ran through her in waves. All 
would be safe. She had been rescued.
"Be silent now -- it won't be long."
When a loud victory cry ripped the night in two, Kristian knew Broody would 
never again bother her. Black Eagle pulled her weary form to stand with him. She 
looked up into his dark eyes and attempted a smile.
"Thank you Black Eagle, you've saved me." She spoke in his language.
"It is over now, Walking Ghost. They can't hurt you any longer." Kristian felt 
herself sway and before she could say anything her knees buckled. Black Eagle 
scooped her up into his hard arms of steel.
Closing her eyes, she rested against his chest, she knew he would have horses 
hidden somewhere close by. Before reaching the animals she felt him transferring 
her into someone else's arms.
While slightly surprised by this turn of events, she didn't worry, she knew 
Black Eagle would keep her from harm. But a warm, piney, outdoor odor invaded 
her nostrils. Tears slipped from under her closed eyelids. Dean...That was how 
he had always smelled.
"Don't cry Kay, I'm here."
Her eyelids flew open. Dean carried her in his arms, smiling down at her face. 
Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision. Reverently, fearing it a dream, she 
raised her hand and touched his bristly jaw. His smile was gentle, his gaze 
perusing her tear-laden face.
When they came to a stop, Kristian realized they had reached the horses. Only 
when he once again handed her to Black Eagle and mounted his horse, did she 
realize his shoulder was bandaged.
Her mouth went dry. Her friend lifted her to Dean, and he positioned her to face 
him rather than away. She touched the white dressing covering his wound, running 
her hand feather light across it. When her eyes met his once again, he was 
smiling insolently.
Using his good shoulder, he shrugged. "I should have waited for Black Eagle."
He leaned forward and kissed her so tenderly, she could barely feel it. Pressing 
her lips to his, she dared to touch his with her tongue. She needed to taste 
him, feel him, and connect with him. To believe.
With a great gust of air, Dean pulled her close to him, careless of his wound. 
Their spirits danced into the night breeze. Glory filling them both as they 
opened for the other. When they separated, Dean directed her head to rest on his 
chest, stroking her bedraggled hair.
Kristian, mindful of his injury, snuggled into his warmth, allowing it to seep 
into her soul, kindling the magical fire that only Dean could build. She didn't 
ask the questions burning in her mind; there would be time for that later.
As her eyes drifted shut, she felt the effects of fatigue and grief roll over 
her. She didn't have to be afraid. Both Buck and Broody were dead for good, this 
time. They wouldn't be making reappearance somewhere down the path of life. They 
were gone.
And Dean was alive.
***
When Kristian opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a beautiful canopy of 
pink eyelets with ruffles hanging in great sagging ripples. The dancing flame of 
the single lantern set upon the bureau, cast eerie shadows around the room that 
settled deep into the corners.
She was lying on a soft mattress and a plump quilt covered her body. Turning her 
head to survey the room, she was met with a pleasant surprise. Reggie and 
Melissa slept together on a small cot next to her bed.
The two lay snuggled together on their sides, with absolutely no room to move. 
Another heavy quilt covered them. Reggie's stocking clad leg stuck out from 
underneath, dangling over the edge of the cot. Soft snores emanated from Melissa 
and she murmured to someone in her sleep. Kristian smiled. She was so glad to 
see them again.
Taking in the rest of the room, she saw the walls were papered with a tiny rose 
print. A tall window was on the same side as the door, covered with pink eyelet 
curtains.
Slowly, she pulled herself upright. Her body felt stiff, as if it had been in 
one position for too long. She must have been sleeping hard, she decided. Her 
hair had been combed and smelled clean when she held a strand to her nose.
Just as she began to think on the impossibility of that, the door crept open a 
sliver. Kristian stared at the ominous crack; she could see something moving 
behind it.
Before she could get too upset it opened the rest of the way, allowing Mary to 
enter. She smiled brightly at Kristian and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Casting a glance over at Reggie and Melissa, she spoke in hushed tones, "I'm so 
glad to see you awake. You gave us quite a scare you know."
She must have read the bewilderment on Kristian's face because she continued, 
"Oh my! You don't even know, do you?" Kristian shook her head. "Kristian, dear, 
you've been very sick for about a week. We didn't know if you'd make it or not."
"How did I get here?"
"Black Eagle -- who, by the way, is quite the burly man, isn't he?" An admiring 
twinkle gleamed in Mary's eyes. "Well, anyway, he and hiswarriors brought you 
here. Apparently their Shaman tried to treat you but you wouldn't respond to 
their medicine so they brought you to us. Reggie and Melissa refused to leave 
you and in any case, they're welcome here, so they stayed, too."
"Oh Mary, thank you." Suddenly her smile faded as the color drained from her 
face. Her hand flew to her belly, "My baby!"
Mary leaned forward and took Kristian's shoulders in her hands, "It's alright 
Kristian. Your baby is fine."
"Thank heavens," she managed to choke out. Her eyes closed and her shoulders 
slumped in relief.
Mary let go of her and smiled humorously, "Dean is going to be furious. Why he 
has --"
"Dean?" Kristian was sure she'd misunderstood Mary. Dean was dead.
"Yes, Dean. He's sat with you since you've been here, despite his own injuries. 
Kept mumbling that he'd failed you and wouldn't let you down again." Mary shook 
her head in confusion and sympathy. "Cleave finally had to give him a shot of 
sleeping powders tonight so that he'd get some rest."
Her throat felt tight constricted from the hope she felt emerging. As if drawn 
from a fog, memories of Dean carrying her rippled across her mind.
"Mary," her voice was rough, drawn tight from anxiety. "Could you take me to 
him?"
Mary looked her up and down for a moment. Kristian could tell she was judging 
her fortitude. "Mary, I'm going to find him one way or another, please make it 
easier."
An understanding smile reached Mary's eyes, standing she said, "Yes, I imagine 
you'd like to see him now."
With fear, Kristian opened the door to Dean's room. She was afraid to believe 
Dean could still be alive. She'd watched him fall, blood staining his clothes.
The room was next to hers, and a single lantern, turned low, lit this room also. 
Long shadows stretched across the large mahogany bed. She could see it was 
occupied but the light was too dim to see the truth of Mary's words. Stepping 
inside the door, she hesitantly took a step closer.
One foot placed in front of the other brought her to the side of the bed. 
Kristian heard the door close but didn't pay any attention to it.
She could see short black hair covering the man's head, but he faced the other 
side of the room. Even through the mystery shrouding his features, Kristian knew 
it was he. He was alive.
Tears of joy flowed down her cheeks, and she dropped onto his bare arms. She 
picked up his hand and held it to her cheek, relishing in the warmth. His hand, 
lifeless and heavy when she first picked it up, began to move on its own. A 
finger trailed under her eyes and wiped the tears away.
"Kristian," his voice was gruff and unused, but sounded as pure as music to her. 
"I'm sor...sorry." The side affects from the sleeping remedy Cleave had given 
him made him groggy and his eyelids heavy.
"Oh Dean," she lay down next to him on his good side and pressed her face to his 
neck. Feathering kisses across his furry jawbone and his gritty neck. She didn't 
care about the grime and sweat, she needed to feel his skin, to taste him again. 
"I'm sorry, too. Will you forgive me?" Looking up into his eyes, she saw a smile 
flicker there.
"I need..."
Kristian sat up and looked at him, expecting to give him a drink or such. She 
frantically searched his face, trying to read the unclear message.
"I need...to know."
She knew, in that instant, what he wanted and didn't hesitate to give it to him. 
"It was Emily. She convinced Buck that he should marry me after you were 
reported as dead. She figured out that I was pregnant." Kristian looked down at 
her hands, bunched in her lap. "Emily convinced me that Buck would care for me 
and the babe. I didn't find out the truth of their relationship till later."
Kristian met Dean's gaze and continued. "They convinced me it was the only way, 
pretending to be the proper family. Buck agreed it would be in name only and 
Emily and I said nothing about the baby. I believed them." Kristian closed her 
eyes as shame and humiliation swept through her. She had made a horrible choice 
and only wished Dean would understand.
Dean's trembling hand cupped her chin and she felt him pull just slightly. 
Opening her eyes, she followed his gentle tug and met his lips for a tender 
kiss. When they parted she stayed suspended above him, their foreheads touching.
"I left you and went back to the war. I should have married you right away. I 
was so foolish...I love you," his words were more air brushing across her face 
than sound but she heard them all the same, in her heart.
"I was foolish, too. I believed that Buck would keep his promises. I dreamed of 
you, Robbie. Every night for so many years. And now you are here."
Shaping her body to his she lay down next to him, secure in his arms. Then the 
two, one exhausted and one healing, fell asleep in each other's arms.
CHAPTER 39
"Oh Dean, it's beautiful. You did such a good job."
Dean and Kristian sat alone in the loft of the barn. The large swinging door 
stood open wide, allowing them a view of the new home they'd built together. Arm 
in arm, their legs dangling over the edge, they shared a long deep kiss.
Dean, Cowboy and the hands had worked almost every day on it almost all summer. 
Chopping, cutting, lifting, fitting, measuring and hammering. They stayed in 
town at the preacher's and worked at the ranch every day.
Lupe, Mary, and Melissa had worked together to provide hearty meals for the men. 
With her pregnancy in full bloom, Kristian hadn't been allowed to do much. But 
she and Reggie had packed the mixture of mud and grass in the small slots 
between the massive logs.
Now as she looked down upon the finished structure it seemed worth it. The log 
house was two stories high and much larger than the old homestead. The floors 
were smooth and perfectly even, polished to a high shine. With six bedrooms 
upstairs, Dean planned to fill each one with another child.
In the upstairs Dean had installed one of the brand new indoor bathrooms. A 
network of drains hidden within the roof of the cabin allowed rainwater to 
collect inside a large bin. A person wanting a warm bath had only to light the 
burner beneath and wait for the tank to warm.
Lupe and Cowboy had built a snug lean-to behind the house. Every night the 
couple ambled out to their small home, happy and content to be with each other. 
Melissa, Kristian, Dean and Reggie spent the nights together in front of the 
huge fireplace in the main room of the house. The women either embroidered or 
knitted as Dean read aloud from a book.
They had only been sleeping in their home for a week now and still, it amazed 
Kristian when she looked at it. Dean had put such thoughtfulness into it, 
working so hard.
"I need to tell you why," Dean's voice was solemn. Kristian nodded, she had 
never asked him, knowing he would reveal his past when he was ready.
"At Gettysburg, things got real bad. Men were dying left and right. We worked 
hard on that damn cannon to keep it going. I knew it was getting hot, but we 
kept going." Dean's silver eyes looked out at the surrounding mountains. "When 
it blew up I was behind some men, they died on the spot, I never knew what 
happened. When I woke up I was in a pile of dead men, stacked as high as it was 
wide. Somehow I managed to crawl out and someone saw me."
His face skewered up in disgust. "The doctor didn't want to be bothered, 
especially when he saw me. But the man who found me wouldn't let them pass me 
by, so out of spite the doctor poured acid over my wounds to 'clean' them." 
Dean's voice was hard, his eyes fierce and he dropped his hand from Kristian's 
shoulder.
"My voice broke from screaming. When I got back to Virginia I found my family 
laid out in the front yard, dead, and the house burned to the ground," Dean 
returned his eyes to Kristian.
A shiver ran through her spine as she whispered, "...and I was gone..."
"...I started looking for you. I followed you everywhere but always got there 
too late. Then imagine my surprise when one night a came across Buck Rosell, 
yourhusband." Dean's fist clenched at the name. Silence engulfed his words, 
leaving an odd, charged stillness as they faded.
Dean looked down at Kristian and the grim gray of his eyes, turned to a rich 
silver, shining bright with love. "That first day I saw you in town I wanted to 
grab you and kiss you right then. And then I wanted to shake you...There were so 
many times I wanted to scream to you who I was but --" Shaking his head he 
pursed his lips. "I was afraid. I couldn't lose you again."
Kristian placed a silencing finger on his lips, and smiled tenderly at him. "I 
understand now, and it doesn't matter any longer. I have you and that's all that 
counts.I love you,Dean ."
Dean enfolded her in his warm arms and captured her mouth beneath his. He ran 
his tongue across her bottom lip before gently pushing past. Exploring her mouth 
and absorbing all her tastes and textures, Dean cupped her breast lightly.
Kristian pulled away, and smiled at his disgruntled expression. "We're in plain 
view of anyone that cares to look, you know."
Dean's eyebrows raised devilishly, as mischief sparkled in his eyes. Making a 
grab for her, Dean followed her backward crawl. Laughing, Kristian sank into the 
sweet straw beneath her. Dean moved over her, divesting her of all her clothing.
With the sun shining upon them and the birds chirping their evening greetings, 
Dean made gentle love to Kristian. Later as they lay sated together, braving 
discovery for just a few more minutes, she thought of a question. Sitting up on 
her elbows, Kristian looked over at Dean.
"What did you do with Broody that night you came here? You told me he wouldn't 
bother me again. I thought he was dead."
Dean laughed uproariously at her question. "I paid a woman named Rose to take 
him as far as she could. He was tied to the saddle, naked and unconscious. I 
would have loved to see his expression when he woke up." Dean's face dropped. "I 
didn't think he'd come back."
Kristian leaned back and closed her eyes. She should've known he couldn't kill a 
man in cold blood, even if the man needed it.
Dean's rough voice interrupted her thoughts, "Plus I figured a man like that 
wouldn't much appreciate waking up the possession of a whore." Dean's brows 
furrowed together. "I just hope she was alright, with Broody returning there's 
no telling what he did with her."
Kristian's mind returned to the saloon Buck had died in. The sign outside had 
readRose's .
Suddenly Kristian began to giggle. Dean's eyes strayed to her bare breast, 
thrust forward by her position, enjoying the exhibition. Reluctantly he dragged 
his burning gaze away from the spectacular view. Deep green eyes met his, 
sparkling with humor and warmth.
"Dean," Kristian's voice thick with renewed desire. "I don't think you need to 
worry about Rose."
Leaning forward, he captured one of her puckered nipples in his mouth. "Really?" 
his tone implied he didn't really want to talk any longer.
"Hmm," she answered, unable to keep her thoughts together. "If I'm not mistaken 
she used the money you gave her to open her own saloon."
His mouth released its prisoner and he lifted his head sharply. An eyebrow 
lifted and eyes suddenly clear, Dean asked, "The one where Buck died?"
Kristian had told him the full tale not long after his recovery. While Kristian 
still felt a tad guilty for how he had died, neither were sorry to see Buck gone 
for good.
"Yes," her words were soft, the air she expelled brushing across his face. 
Simultaneously, they fell together. The mention of their attacker brought forth 
the painful reminder of what they'd both almost lost.
As Dean embraced her, Kristian felt a terrible cramp run tear through her 
abdomen. Dean froze in mid-stroke, "What the hell was that?"
Kristian's eyes smiled up at him even though her mouth pressed together. He 
could see her stomach bunch and rise. When it went back to normal and her face 
relaxed she grinned.
"I do believe we're going to have a baby."
"What!" Dean leaped away from her, horror etched into every crevice of his face. 
"Did...did I do...?" his hands came up to touch his chest, accusingly and then 
gestured towards her stomach.
"It's just time." As the words were spoken the dismay drained from his face and 
wonder replaced it.
"Well, darlin'," he drawled as he hastily stood and began pulling on his 
trousers. "We'd best be getting dressed then." His eyes twinkled with delight, 
but she saw concern there too.
She nodded her head in agreement, reaching for her shift. Dean helped her dress 
when he'd finished, excitement bubbling from every pore of his being.
Before she could get down the ladder another contraction gripped her. Gasping, 
she bent over at the waist. Dean rubbed her back and murmured words of 
reassurance.
"Maybe we shouldn't risk going down the ladder."
"I'll be damned, Robert Dean Willis, if I'm going to have this baby in a hay 
loft." Storming past a surprised Dean, she carefully lowered herself down the 
ladder.
Dean stared down at her bowed head. Slowly a smile curved his lips.
"That's my girl," he whispered to himself.
***
Reed Dean Willis was born in the early morning hours. Tears of pure joy and love 
flowed freely from Dean's eyes. Melissa and Lupe quickly claimed the little boy 
and Dean lay down beside his wife. He held her until after she fell asleep. And 
only then did he fall asleep, too.
The End



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