Outlaw's Bride by Maureen McKade Read Free Book Online Page A

fella, huh?”
    Andy’s cheeks reddened. “He looked bad—badder’n you, anyhow.”
    â€œThanks,” Clint said dryly. The boy’s story reminded him of his own discomfort. “You want to help me up?”
    â€œMa said you’re not supposed to be getting out of bed.”
    â€œI don’t plan on going for a walk—I just need to use the necessary.”
    â€œOh.” Andy thought about that a moment, then nodded. “All right.”
    The boy stepped over to Clint’s side and swept back his covers. Bracing himself with his hands on the mattress, Clint pushed himself up while Andy put a helping arm around his waist. Nausea ripped through Clint as his head swam in dizziness. Sweat popped out on his forehead and chest.
    Andy planted his anxious face in front of Clint. “Are you all right, Mr. Beaudry?”
    â€œI’ll be fine, kid,” he managed to say. “Just… give me a minute.”
    Clint wrestled with his weakness as he debated having Andy call his mother. Finally the lightheadedness passed, and with the boy’s help, he was able to relieve himself without passing out. Andy helped Clint back to bed, then tucked away the chamber pot.
    â€œWhat’s going on?”
    Mrs. St. Clair stood with her hands planted on her hips as she pinned her son with a stern gaze.
    â€œIt wasn’t the boy’s fault, ma’am,” Clint spoke up. “I asked him to come inside to help me.”
    â€œWith what?” the woman demanded.
    â€œHe had to—” Andy started.
    â€œI had to relieve myself,” Clint broke in, irritated that his private business had become everybody’s business.
    Mrs. St. Clair’s cheeks flushed, which gratified Clint.
    â€œOh.” She straightened her shoulders and fixed her strict gaze on the boy again. “You’re not allowed in here, Andrew. Go on.”
    Andy’s mouth opened, but closed abruptly. “Yes, ma’am.”
    After the kid left, Mrs. St. Clair transferred her disapproval to Clint. “I don’t want you talking to my son, Mr. Beaudry. Is that clear?”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause of what you are.”
    The lady didn’t pull any punches. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a hard woman, Mrs. St. Clair?”
    She dipped her head, but not before Clint caught the pain in her eyes. “He craves a man’s attention. He never knew his father.” Raising her proud gaze, she said softly, “Please, Mr. Beaudry, don’t tempt him with something you can’t give him.” Then she spun on her heel and was gone.
    Clint sucked in his breath at the sorrow her words wrought. Mrs. St. Clair was right—he could give the boy nothing.
    Because he had nothing left to give.

Chapter 4

    H er arms stacked high with freshly laundered bedding and clothing, Mattie climbed the stairs wearily. At the top of the steps, she heard Andy’s voice coming from Beaudry’s room and froze. Just yesterday afternoon she’d ordered her son to stay away from him and now he’d disobeyed her, something he rarely did. She marched toward the room, her footsteps muffled by the rug.
    â€œI think all boys like fishing,” she heard Beaudry say in a tone that held a smile. She halted in the hall and listened to the man’s rich, Texas-laced voice. “When I was your age, me and my pa would spend hours fishing in this little pond.”
    â€œDid you catch a lot of fish?” Andy asked.
    Mattie’s heart ached at his eagerness. Thank heavens for Herman, though he was more of a grandfather than father.
    â€œSometimes. But even if the fish weren’t biting, we’d just talk,” Beaudry replied.
    Silence stretched out between man and boy, and Mattie was tempted to peek around the corner. Beaudry’s voice stopped her.
    â€œWhy the long face, Andy?” There was genuine concern in his tone.
    â€œMa doesn’t want you