Wed To The Texas Outlaw. Carol Arens

you really think it necessary.” Boone shrugged. “I reckon I’ll purchase that, as well.”

      Actually there were a dozen weapons packed at the bottom of the wagon.

      It was good to see Boone handle the weapon Spears placed in his hand as though it were a live snake.

      Mr. Spears had yet to say why they should be off the streets today more than any other day. Clearly, everyone else in Jasper Springs was of the same mind.

      Boone withdrew a large roll of money from his pocket, making sure the storeowner got a good look at it.

      “I’ll take the dog outside for a moment,” she announced.

      Naturally, she would be forbidden to do so, but her intention was to find out why.

      “I wouldn’t, ma’am. Not without protection.”

      “Why ever not?”

      “Olfin King was buried today.”

      “I’m sure that’s very sad.” She touched her throat, pretending that it was. But, really, that meant one less outlaw to be a threat to Boone. What a shame that according to the notes, Olfin King was the least villainous of them all.

      “I reckon not so sad. You can bet the folks of Jasper Springs are celebrating behind their bolted doors. After you’ve been here a while, you’ll understand why.”

      “That seems coldhearted,” Stanley observed.

      “What happened to Olfin King?” Boone asked.

      Yes, to her mind, that was an important bit of information.

      “He got himself shot in the leg a few weeks ago. The doc tried to heal it but infection set in. The Kings buried Olfin this morning. Hate to say so, but I reckon it won’t be long before we’ll be burying the doc.”

      Melinda felt her stomach turn. She slid closer to Boone; the need to be near him natural and not a bit of show in it.

      The danger involved in what they had undertaken hit her fresh. Boone’s big, solid presence helped to sooth the jitters skittering along her spine.

      With an arm around her shoulders, he tugged her close. He squeezed his fingers, sending a message. No matter what, he would be here to keep her safe.

      While she was, in most instances, able to see to her own safety, she leaned into him, took comfort in his large, Viking-like presence.

      For all that she felt heartened. She knew that Boone felt the pressure of the situation. This close, she could see his jaw grinding with tension.

      “We’ll be on our way, then, just as soon as we’ve loaded the wagon,” he stated.

      “I wouldn’t settle on that land if I were you. The Kings see it as their own. Won’t be pleased that you’ve taken it over.”

      “Pleased or not, they have no legal right to it,” Stanley pointed out.

      “Well, you’ll find that they do what they want to whenever they want to do it. And a sorry day, too, for anyone who stands in their way.”

      She felt Boone’s muscles tense. Glancing up, she saw his expression harden.

      Boone dropped his gaze, stooped his back. Clearly he was striving hard to hold on to the character of Witherleaf. Behind the playacting, she suspected he was smoldering not withering. Just now, on the inside, Boone was probably as meek as the outlaw portrayed in his Wanted poster.