Outlaw's Bride by Maureen McKade Read Free Book Online

above an ear. “He’s got a lot of anger inside him, Mattie.”
    She crossed her arms as a chill went through her. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
    â€œHe’s not a killer.”
    Mattie hadn’t been ready for that one. “How can you be so certain?”
    â€œTrust me.”
    She studied his face and reluctantly recognized his sincerity. She had known Walt Atwater for a long time—he’d taken over as sheriff after Jason had been killed. He was tough, but compassionate and fair. But she had a son to think about….
    â€œWhat about Andy—is Beaudry a threat to him?”
    â€œDepends on what you mean by threat.” He shrugged. “Beaudry won’t harm him, but Andy’s hungry for a man’s attention, and Beaudry’s someone a boy’s gonna look up to.”
    Mattie understood only too well. “I’m going to have to keep Andy away from him.”
    Walt laid a weathered hand on her arm. “Don’t. I got a feelin’ they can help each other.” He donned his hat. “I’ll be stoppin’ by from time to time to check on how things are goin’. ’Bye, Mattie.”
    â€œGood-bye, Walt.”
    She listened to his footsteps on the porch and the faint sound of him talking to Andy. Despite the sheriff’s reassuring words, Mattie wasn’t going to accept Beaudry’s innocence so readily. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer, but his Colt told her he was a man who lived by the gun.
    And a man who lived by the gun, died by the gun.
    Clint shifted on the too-familiar mattress and stifled a groan of impatience. Since he’d regained consciousness, all he’d done was lie around and sleep. At first that had been fine. He’d been overwhelmingly weak and his body hungered for rest. But now it was more than a week since he’d been shot, and all he wanted to do was get the hell out of these four walls before he suffocated.
    Mrs. St. Clair brought his meals and changed his bandages, but otherwise she steered clear of him. Hell, it was probably a good thing she did. Though Clint could have eaten his meals by himself now, he allowed her to believe he was still too weak, so she continued to feed him. His fascination with her was fast becoming an obsession. He’d never met a woman more closemouthed or cantankerous than Mattie St. Clair. Nor one so unaware of—or indifferent to—her own beauty. Since she was a widow, he was surprised she hadn’t guessed his uncomfortable reaction to her closeness. A man could only take so much of lush curves, even a man in his condition.
    Her secrecy about her past gnawed at him, too. When he’d asked her about herself, she’d given him a frigid look that could have frozen a brass monkey’s balls. The only information he’d gotten from her was that she had a son named Andy.
    He moved and swore under his breath. Nature had a way of calling at the worst possible time. He knew he should holler for Mrs. St. Clair, but even after eight days of her nursing, he felt a keen sense of embarrassment when she helped him with the personal task. Maybe he could handle things on his own this time.
    He spotted a boy with hair the color of Mrs. St. Clair’s peeking into his room. The kid had to be her son. “C’mon in, Andy.”
    The boy appeared startled, shot a glance down the stairs, then entered the room furtively.
    â€œHow’d you know my name?” the kid asked in a low voice.
    â€œYour mother told me,” Clint replied. “What were you doing out there?”
    Andy slid his hands deep in his trouser pockets. “I just wanted to see if you were a bad man.”
    A smile tugged at Clint’s lips, but he restrained the impulse. “And?”
    â€œYou don’t look so bad. Not like the fella Sheriff Atwater arrested for peein’ in the street the other day.”
    This time Clint didn’t stop his grin. “Pretty bad