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  “Outlaw’s Kiss” by Cheryl Pierson

  Talia Delano has been humiliated before the entire town of Rock Creek by Jake Morgan. A known gunman, Jake has bid an outrageous sum for Talia’s “boxed supper”, a kiss, and the gift of her time for the rest of the Independence Day celebration. But, as always, Jake changes the rules and takes more than he should—especially with the whole town watching. Talia’s chance of happiness is dashed, along with her reputation, when Jake leaves Rock Creek suddenly.

  When he shows up five months later at her farmhouse, wounded, and in the midst of a blinding snowstorm, she can’t turn him away—even though she knows being alone with him will cause tongues to wag once more. But with Christmas only two days away, how can she harden her heart against the handsome outlaw who has no place else to go—even if he is being trailed by someone just as dangerous? Magic and danger are woven together in the OUTLAW’S KISS.

  Outlaw’s Kiss

  Cheryl Pierson

  Outlaw’s Kiss by Cheryl Pierson

  Outlaw’s Kiss Copyright © 2013 by Cheryl Pierson

  Originally in Wishing for a Cowboy

  Prairie Rose Publications

  Cover Design Livia Reasoner

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  A long-ago schooldays crush is rekindled by an Outlaw’s Kiss that sparks true love, and a new future for Jake Morgan and Talia Delano.

  The dog came out of nowhere, right to his side, and led him to her door. Hurting as bad as Jake was, he had followed the collie like he was desperate. And maybe he was.

  The snow storm had whipped up quick. He’d known it was coming but it had swooped down with a few icy blasts of wind, then settled in with a helluva vengeance. Just like his own.

  A grim smile twisted his frozen lips as the horse put one foot in front of the other, stopping at the front porch of the farmhouse. Jake glanced around instinctively, scanning the few feet he could see through the blowing snow. If that bastard Ray Leonard was behind him, Jake wouldn’t be able to see him anyway.

  Stiffly, he eased down from the saddle, nearly going to his knees in the fast-deepening snow. The red staining his hands wasn’t even sticky anymore. It was frozen. A gentle light streamed through the front windows of the house through the lacy curtains, making the snow look warm, and almost inviting.

  Jake took the first of three steps up to the wide porch. He knew he’d never make the second one alone. Agony shot through his left side, and he felt the warmth soak through his shirt again like a surge of hot water. But, it wasn’t water. His legs were ready to buckle and he knew, if that happened, he’d never get up. He’d freeze to death out here on the front porch.

  On Talia Rose Delano’s front porch, he corrected.

  But just then, the dog began to bark furiously, until after what seemed like hours, the door swung open. He heard her voice, scolding someone else for a change. It was a relief and a worry, and above all, the answer to an unspoken prayer.

  “Jingles, what are you barking—” Talia broke off, then muttered something Jake couldn’t hear.

  He made a grab for one of the wood stanchions nearest where he stood to hold himself upright. In the next instant, Talia was beside him in her dress, trying to slip under his right arm. He didn’t want to accept her help—she was a woman, and couldn’t easily bear his weight…but she was determined. So determined. He’d never forget that about her.

  Just for an instant, when she looked up into his face, her green eyes overflowed with worry…and disbelief. He saw something else there, too. Something he hadn’t expected.

  Natalia Rose Delano cared for him. And that scared him more than anything.

  ****

  Satan had shown up just in time for Christmas. Talia held on tightly to the arm he’d put around her shoulders. They took a stumbling step, and then another, somehow making it to the porch.

  Jake panted heavily, and Talia shifted to hold his weight better.

  “Michael!” she shouted behind her. Her voice caught on a sob as she called again. “Michael!”

  In a moment, her younger brother appeared at the door, then rushed out to help Talia get Jake into the house. At twelve years old, Michael was small for his age, but he did his best to help Talia with Jake as they came through the front door.

  “Blankets,” she panted, waving her brother off as Jake leaned against the wall.

  What was he doing back here in Rock Creek? And why was he here, at her house, of all places? Talia tamped down her questions as her gaze fell once more to the dull red stain that had made its way through the heavy material of Jake’s coat.

  She could hear Michael coming back down the hallway with the blankets. “I’ll spread ’em on the floor,” he volunteered.

  “No,” Talia said quickly. “The sofa.”

  “Talia—” Michael began. Talia knew he was thinking of the blood.

  “The floor’s too hard.”

  “Floor’s fine,” Jake muttered.

  Talia turned back to face him as Michael began to make the sofa into a makeshift bed.

  “Hold on,” she whispered, steadying Jake, even as she cast a worried glance at her brother.

  “Okay,” Michael said. “All done.”

  Together, Talia and Michael bracketed Jake and got him across the room.

  “It’s your…good sofa…Talia,” Jake said as Michael moved away from him.

  “It’s covered,” she reassured him. “Lie down.”

  His legs wouldn’t hold him up any longer anyway. He lowered himself down slowly, and Talia began to tug his boots off.

  “Michael, will you see to the horse and bring in Mr. Morgan’s saddlebags?”

  “Sure.” There was a lingering note of curiosity in his voice, Talia thought, and that was natural. But she was going to have to come up with answers to the boy’s questions—just as soon as she found out why Jake Morgan, hired gun, was back in town.

  ****

  Talia put two more logs on the fire to ward off the cold. After making a cup of tea, she positioned a large overstuffed chair near Jake, and took a seat, wrapping herself in a quilt.

  Two days till Christmas. Wasn’t it just last night she’d foolishly made a wish? Or had it been a prayer? She tried to remember how she’d phrased it—as a general thought, or as a request of God?

  Please bring me someone. I’m so lonely. For Christmas, please send me someone to love.

  And just look what had happened. Jake Morgan, the man she alternately never wanted to lay eyes on again and wished for with all her heart had appeared on her doorstep.

  She glanced at him as he slept. He muttered and cursed, but thankfully, lay still. His brows furrowed in worry at something Talia could not know. But she had worries of her own. Whoever had shot Jake may still be out there, tracking him. And she was no doctor…

  There was no way to go for the real doctor—Doc Maynard—not in this blizzard. The wind hadn’t let up during the past four hours. She’d handled it, just like she always did. Practical Talia. Holding everything together. With clammy palms she’d pulled Jake’s jacket, cutting away his blood-soaked shirt. She’d nearly wept with relief to find the bullet had passed cleanly through his side.

  “Hold him the best you can,” she’d instructed Michael, then laid the burning knife across the skin just under his ribs.

  Michael had tried to be stoic, but the sight of the glowing knife and the ghastly smell of seared flesh and blood had sent him running for the front door. Talia had wanted to follow him. She bit her lip,
remembering. She’d been so angry with Jake when he’d left. The kisses he’d branded her with in front of the entire town were every bit as painful as the knife she’d pressed against his flesh, burning her lips, her soul, and leaving her reputation a pile of smoldering embers.

  Talia tilted her head back, watching the shadows and light of the fire play on the ceiling. It had been five months since Jake had left Rock Creek. Just after he’d destroyed her reputation in this small community. With his devil-may-care attitude, he’d captured her heart. And fled with it like a thief in the night.

  How poetic. No. She couldn’t put a pretty face on what he’d done, or how he’d trampled her feelings into the dirt beneath his feet.

  She’d expected…so much more. And maybe she shouldn’t have. She let out a long sigh. No…she certainly shouldn’t have. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift back to that hot Independence Day afternoon. She’d made a box luncheon for the auction to benefit the building fund for a new school.

  The auction of the boxed lunches, along with a chaste kiss from each participant to the highest bidder was sure to be a success. Young men anxiously waited in the crowd of onlookers for their special girl’s box to be auctioned, each of them determined to win the bid.

  Talia had gone to great lengths to prepare a scrumptious dinner. Fried chicken was common among the boxed meals, but she took special pride in hers—always a bit spicier than many of the other ladies made, as she covered it with the mixture of seasonings her mother had taught her to use before she’d passed away. She’d included her special yeast rolls and potato salad, along with blackberry cobbler.

  Although she had no special man she was particularly interested in, there were several who were interested in her. That had changed in the blink of an eye. All because one certain dark-eyed sinfully handsome challenger who was good with a gun had shown up—and outbid them all by hundreds of dollars.

  No matter what Jake Morgan had done to earn the money he’d bid, the town would gladly accept the donation—even if they’d never accept him.

  But he’d drawn Talia into it as well, and now…her reputation was nothing more than a shroud of tatters.

  With the auction, the townspeople had been excited, thrilled at the prospect of a new school and well on their way to raising a good sum toward the building fund. Several months earlier, one of the town elders had approached Talia about the possibility of teaching in the school. That wouldn’t be happening now. Not after what Jake Morgan had done.

  Talia let her mind drift back to the ill-fated day that had changed every single thing about her life. July the fourth, 1871, when Satan had done the unthinkable.

  ****

  It started with a kiss—a kiss that should have been nothing more than a very tiny, quick peck on Satan’s cheek. Even that would have been bad enough. When Talia had gotten close enough to inhale his intoxicating scent, she knew she was in danger. She’d stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, trying to act as if nothing was amiss—as if she kissed a demon every day.

  Then, he’d turned his head at the last moment, his lips coming over hers with a tight-leashed ferocity that posed as indifference to the rest of the world.

  But Talia and Jake knew better. His tongue had parted her lips. Or, had she done that herself, the instant he’d put his mouth to hers? Although he’d bought that kiss with one thousand dollars, he’d taken possession of so much more. What were a heart and soul worth?

  His tongue had done at least a thousand dollars’ worth of damage, in a few short seconds.

  His lips sculpted hers, as the entire town of Rock Creek watched. His mouth kindled the beginning flame that erupted in a bonfire between them, making her stomach quiver, her heart pound. But it was his velvet demon’s tongue that carelessly sent the cinders of her soul skyward, in front of the cat-calling onlookers who’d gathered for the auction.

  There was no defense against his casual, merciless onslaught. Talia’s body warmed as involuntarily, her fingers curled in the front of his cotton shirt, pulling him closer. Damn you, Jake Morgan. Damn you.

  His lips curved upward just before he lifted his mouth, allowing her to breathe once more. She could swear the gunfighter read the thoughts that swirled in her head.

  He licked his lips slowly, as if savoring the way she tasted. The wicked, slow smile spread, lighting his dark eyes with teasing warmth, deadly to what remained of her will.

  The breath she took was nearly a gasp, as if she had just been saved from drowning in rushing waters.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Morgan?” Her voice was quiet, with none of the indignation she knew she should be feeling.

  “I’m getting my money’s worth.” His large hands framed her face with a gentleness she wouldn’t have thought possible. He leaned toward her. Again.

  “No—” Her protest was unconvincing to her own ears.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to ruin me—”

  Jake laughed softly. “Later, Talia. Much, much later.” Then, his mouth closed over hers once more.

  The entire town of Rock Creek had been scandalized, and Natalia Delano had been ostracized.

  What had followed had been an afternoon of excruciating delight—and embarrassment. For not only had the one thousand dollars purchased the box lunch as well as Talia’s heart, it had also purchased the damning kisses, as well as the entitlement of Talia’s company for the rest of the afternoon.

  Though nothing untoward had happened between them, and Jake had been the perfect gentleman at all times, tongues had begun to wag. Jake Morgan was a man who came and went as he pleased; a heartbreaker—according to the women; a lawbreaker, according to the men. Just as Talia had predicted, rumors flew fast and thick and by the end of that week, her status in Rock Creek was like a boulder, dangling precariously at the edge of a cliff.

  It had never fully recovered, even though the money Jake had contributed had single-handedly paid for the school and the desks, as well as a pot-bellied stove to warm the one-room structure in the winter months. His money had also bought books and paid the salary for a new young schoolmaster who would start teaching next fall. The other money that had been raised would be going for the beginning of a new library, the envy of every town around. No one could ever say Rock Creek wasn’t moving ahead with the times! It was a dream, becoming reality right before the eyes of the townspeople.

  Talia had had some dreams of her own—before the Independence Day celebration ruined everything.

  ****

  “Talia…” The hoarse-whispered sound of her name jerked her from her thoughts to the present. Instantly, she rose and dropped the quilt back onto the chair. She took two hurried steps toward Jake before she remembered herself and slowed her approach, schooling her features to reflect nothing of her concern and inner turmoil.

  She knelt on the worn carpet beside the sofa and laid a cool hand across Jake’s fevered skin.

  Suddenly, she didn’t know what to say. She turned to reach for a cup of water she’d set on the coffee table earlier, masking her uncertainty. “Here. Have a sip. I know you must be thirsty.” Gently, she lifted his head and helped him drink a small amount.

  “Thanks…” He lay back on the sofa with a grimace, closing his eyes once more. “You should be…in bed—”

  Talia smiled in spite of herself. “Don’t worry about me. Are you warm enough?” She glanced at the fireplace.

  “I’m…yes. Talia—”

  “Shh. You need to rest. Try to sleep.” Her fingers skimmed his dry lips and she pulled her hand back, as if it were burned.

  “Michael?” There was a hint of regret in his tone.

  “He’s—He’s fine,” she said reassuringly. “He’s never seen…anything like that.”

  Jake nodded his understanding. “He’s…good boy.”

  “Yes,” Talia said, almost brusquely. Michael had suffered along with her, since that day in July. If only Jake hadn’t made a spectacle out of bidding so much money
, then kissing her right on the mouth—not once, but twice.

  She’d spent the afternoon with him at the festivities. Mayor Tinsdale had assured her quite loudly that a man expected some company for the afternoon if he bid a thousand dollars on her lunch!

  Darkness fell and the fireworks began. In spite of what Mayor Tinsdale had spouted earlier, Talia knew the townspeople assumed that one thousand dollars had paid for something more than the school and an afternoon of pleasant conversation. Something much more than watching the fireworks display together.

  How could she fight the veiled nuances and innuendoes? To bring it into the open would only fan the flames of the ugly rumors. Ridiculous falsehoods…she and Jake had been amidst the throngs of people all day. They’d never been alone. She had been accused and found guilty of something she had never done.

  “Lock the doors.” Jake’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. “And…” His hand moved to the emptiness at his hip where his holster and the Colt .45 usually rested. “Where is it?”

  “Right here,” Talia said, reaching for the pistol that lay on the table. She gingerly picked it up and held it out to him. He took it from her and laid it on the carpet beside her, within easy reach.

  “Expecting someone?” she asked, arching a brow.

  “I—I don’t know,” Jake answered honestly. The sincerity in his tone shook her. He was in no condition to protect them from whoever had shot him, but it was clear that was his intention.

  At a loss as to how to answer, she patted his arm awkwardly and rose from the floor to go check the bolts on the doors. It seemed highly unlikely that anyone would have tried to follow him in this blizzard, but she had no details of what had transpired, and he seemed worried about the possibility.

  With everything secure, she returned to the cozy warmth of the front room. Jake’s eyes were slitted open, and he watched as she drew near.

  The silence enveloped the room, broken only by the comforting crackle of the fire and the howling wind. The snow had become pellets of ice, assaulting the windows with a hundred tiny clicks.