Lenox Ranch Cowboys: Complete Boxed Set - Books 1 - 5 Read online

  At the top, he released me, my feet touching the ground and air entering my lungs. I could see the top of a second stairwell at the far end of the hall, the music louder from here. A woman—who most certainly was a lady of the night—stood scantily clad speaking with a man who seemed quite pleased with her forward attentions. Further along were two men who leaned over a railing, presumably to view the saloon downstairs. I had no doubt as to my whereabouts; the establishment had been just down the street from where the man grabbed me and it was easy to infer from the men, the woman and the liquor.

  "You can scream, but no one will help." The man leaned down to speak directly into my ear. His breath was hot and fetid. "They'll think you're playing, that you like it rough. I do. I like it when a woman fights."

  A bitter taste filled my mouth at his unpalatable words. My only consideration was preventing this man from pulling me into one of the many rooms that lined the hall. From Miss Trudy and Miss Esther's tales, I knew what occurred in the upstairs of a saloon, and it wasn't for me. Screaming and running off might not bring me the help I wanted, for someone might just drag me right back to the man or take liberties himself. I had to defend myself!

  I remembered what Miss Esther had taught us about fending off an overeager suitor. This man most certainly wasn't a suitor, but he more than qualified. I raised my knee and stomped down onto the top of his foot with all my might. He had heavy leather boots that softened the blow, but it surprised him enough to loosen his grip. I rammed my elbow backward, directly into his man parts.

  A muffled, high-pitched groan came from between his clenched teeth.

  His hands went to cover his injury and I didn't delay. I dashed down the hall in the direction of the front stairwell.

  "I'll get you, bitch."

  At his hissed warning, I turned my head to look back at the dastardly man, which prevented me from seeing the man who stepped into my path. I ran solidly into him with my shoulder and my head. Once again, strong arms banded about me.

  "No. Let me go!" I fought him with a burst of energy founded in fear.

  "Rose. Stop." The voice was familiar, but that wasn't what had me stilling. It was his scent that I recognized. Chance.

  I settled immediately and looked up at my friend, my savior. I didn't see the friendliness or warmth I usually saw there. Instead, his eyes were narrowed, his jaw clenched tightly and a tick pulsed in his cheek. He was more warrior than cowboy. "Did he hurt you?"

  His dark gaze raked over my face, then my body as he pushed me away from him. He didn't release me, keeping a firm grip on my shoulders. This time, I did not mind a man's hands upon my person, nor his roving stare. Besides the odd thumb incident earlier in the day, it was the only time he'd touched me. His hands were quite large and very warm. The solid weight of his grip was comforting instead of confining.

  My assailant had recovered somewhat and made his way over to us, back stooped. "She belongs to me." The fury that coated his words made his tone even more petrifying than before. I knew now that if he were alone with me, being raped would be the least of my concerns. He had a cloak of menacing danger about him that had me stumbling back a step and against Chance's solid body.

  "I believe the woman disagrees," Chance countered.

  I nodded my head vehemently, hair falling in my face. I tucked it back behind my ear.

  The other man wiped his mouth with his fingers as he stared at me. "Doesn't matter. She was out on the street flaunting her...attributes." His gaze lowered and I shivered, knowing he was thinking carnal thoughts about me.

  "I did no such thing," I replied, my voice laced with indignation.

  "If she did as you said, then I assure you that she will be readily punished for her behavior. My...wife is not right in the head."

  I turned to look up at Chance. The man shifted his attention as well.

  "Wife?" we said in unison.

  What kind of lie was Chance perpetrating? I was most certainly not his wife.

  "I think we can agree that this little incident never happened. I don't need word about my wife spread any more than people want to know you abducted a lady. But if I so much as see your face again, I'll haul your ass to the sheriff only after I beat the stuffing out of you." Chance's words held bite and the other man knew it. He took a step back, recognizing his evening plans had quickly changed.

  "If she's as crazy as you say, you should keep a closer watch on her, mister." He pointed at me as he retreated. "She could come across someone with less savory attentions in mind."

  The irony of the man's words was not lost on Chance. He pushed me behind him and stepped toward my assailant, fists clenched. The man knew his time to leave had come, and I watched around Chance's broad torso as he fled the way we'd come, his footfall heavy on the back stairs.

  Only the sounds of the piano music and voices filtered up from the saloon below. The hallway was deserted now. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, my breathing fast.

  Chance turned and faced me, hands on hips. I wasn’t just thankful that he’d saved me. Thrilled, even. But I was also embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising, weak position. I had been able to take care of myself on the ranch, but only a few minutes in town alone and I needed a rescuer.

  I was also angry, and angry hid humiliation very well. "Why did you say that about me?"

  His eyes narrowed into slits. "The only way the Rose Lenox I know would do something so utterly stupid is if she were not right in the head."

  Gone was my longtime friend. In his place was a man I didn't recognize—intense, bold and very, very virile. I'd always seen Chance as a man, but not a man. This was different. He was different. Although his ire was directed solely at me, I couldn't help but appreciate this new iteration of Chance Goodman.

  "I think there's something wrong with you. You told the man I was your wife!"

  His brows went up and he grinned, showing me a flash of straight white teeth and his dangerous dimple. "I did." When I continued to just glower at him, he continued. "He wouldn't have just handed you over to me, especially since you practically unmanned him. I had to claim you."

  "You did not have to do any such thing. Dragging me bodily from the building would have been sufficient."

  "Don't worry, I still intend to do that," he vouched. "Let's go."

  He took my arm and led me down the stairs, across the saloon and out into the dark night. I kept my head down and remained as close to Chance's side, having no interest in remaining within a moment longer. The air was cool and fresh and I was relieved that he'd saved me. I knew how close I'd come to a dire situation and I would thank the man readily enough, but I was still fuming over his tactic. I was not his wife, nor remotely insane.

  I was lost in my thoughts and only realized we'd stopped when Chance knocked on a door to a small house. Looking around, I noticed we were just off the main thoroughfare beside the jail. After a moment, the door opened.

  "Good evening, Sheriff," Chance said to the man, removing his hat.

  Sheriff! "You're going to have me arrested? You are the one not right in the head, Chance Goodman!" I stepped back from him, shaking my head.

  The sheriff stepped out of the doorway, the soft yellow light from inside his small home illuminating the three of us.

  "I should have you thrown in jail for your own protection, but no. No jail for you," Chance replied.

  "Miss." The sheriff nodded his head in my direction, and then looked to Chance. "Goodman, it's been a long time. What can I do for you?"

  "I'm in need of your services," Chance replied. He was going to have me arrested. The gall of the man! "As Justice Of The Peace."

  I froze at his words. Justice Of The....

  The sheriff grinned.

  I frowned. "You really want to marry me?" I pointed at Chance. "It was just an excuse to get out of that bad environment."

  "Bad environment?" He shook his head, taking a moment. "You were on the second floor of the saloon, Rose, with a man who had plans
for your person that were less than consensual." Chance shook his head slowly, his eyes on me. "Oh, no. You need a keeper, and as I told the bastard you would be punished. I don't have any right to punish you, Rose, unless you're my wife."

  "You're going to beat me?" I countered. "Sheriff, did you hear that? He's going to beat me."

  The older man's hands went out in front of him in surrender, but remained quiet.

  "I'm not going to beat you," Chance replied with a weary sigh, took his hat off and ran his hand through his unruly hair. "I protect what's mine. You're mine, Rose. Always have been. I'll even protect you from yourself."

  My mouth fell open. You're mine, Rose. Always have been. Those words spun around in my brain making me dizzy.

  "Let's get this done, Sheriff."

  3

  CHANCE

  * * *

  "Let's get this done?" Rose repeated, her voice full of sarcasm and surprise. The little hellcat was just getting started. I stifled a grin, knowing it would only build her ire to a fevered pitch if she saw it, but I loved her spirit. That spirit, however, put her into a heap of trouble. I didn't know if I wanted to strangle her or kiss her. The stupid, beautiful woman had no sense, venturing alone at night. Of course, a man would grab her and want to have his way with her.

  I wanted to. I'd wanted to for far longer than I should have, but I'd bided my time. At least my intentions were honorable. I hadn't even touched her until today. I’d kept my distance, afraid I'd do something rash like kiss her if she were within reach. Earlier, when she'd hurt her thumb, all I wanted to do was take her hurt away; I didn't even think about my actions until I had the soft tip of her thumb in my mouth. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever done. Seeing the look of surprise and...desire flare in her eyes had my resolution to be patient crumbling. I was resolute now in another way. I would have her; I would make her mine. I would keep her safe. If I could only get her to agree to the damn marriage then I could ensure that. Until then, she would go about wild and untamed, a danger to herself.

  "You didn't even ask me!" she shouted. She was so small next to me, petite and dainty, but she was far from it. Feisty, spirited, uninhibited would be more apt.

  "You didn't stick around the ranch long enough for me to do so," I countered.

  The sheriff chuckled and mumbled something about a hotheaded couple, but we ignored him.

  She looked taken aback, as if she hadn't known I would ask her. Perhaps I'd been too successful in hiding my interest.

  "I...I didn't know," she replied, her voice soft.

  "Of course, you didn't. You’re too young."

  "I'm nineteen!" She paced around in a circle and I watched her, enjoying the sight of her in a skirt and blouse—unusual attire for her. Her hair had been in a bun at the nape of her neck but the pins had fallen out, leaving the curly blond locks wild down her back. She tucked some wayward strands behind her ear absently. I'd never seen it unbound, for it was always tucked beneath her hat or in a thick plait down her back. The sight of it long and free-flowing was something intimate for only a spouse to see. I saw it as a sign that she was to be mine. It made me want to tangle my fingers in it, wrap the tresses around my hand and tilt her head back so I could kiss her. Claim her mouth and very soon, claim her body.

  "I came to Clayton to ask you, but then when I found you with that man, I had to save you from getting yourself hurt."

  "You followed me." She hadn't stated it as a question.

  I ran my hand through my hair, and then stopped her pacing with a hand on her biceps so she'd look at me. "I've always followed you, Rose. Always will."

  "But you said—" She bit her bottom lip.

  I frowned. "Said what?"

  "Earlier, when I was mending fences, you said I didn't belong on the ranch anymore."

  Shaking my head, I slowly pulled her closer. "No, you said you didn't belong on the ranch anymore, and I agreed."

  "Same difference," she muttered, not meeting my eye anymore. "Then why didn't you let me go?"

  "You don't belong on the Lenox ranch anymore, kitten. You're being stifled there. You know it and I can see it. I've seen it for a stretch now, but earlier, I knew you'd decided it was time to move on. You belong with me on the Goodman spread. As a Goodman, Rose Goodman."

  Her green eyes widened. "You mean...I thought—"

  I put my finger over lips. "You thought wrong."

  The sheriff cleared his throat. "This is touching and all, but are you needing my services or not?"

  "Well?" I asked. "Rose Lenox, will you marry me?"

  "Why are we riding back to your ranch when we could stay at the boarding house?" Rose asked.

  It was late, well past midnight, but the moon had risen and our path was bright. The ride was only an hour to the ranch house, but it seemed to be interminable. With the vows said, the chaste kiss shared, and the sheriff once again reading his book, I was in a hurry to get my wife home. She sat sideways upon my lap, her ass shifting with the motion of the horse making my mind distracted and my cock very eager. The only thing preventing me from claiming her was the distance from our current location and my bed.

  "I don't want to have an audience for our wedding night." I shifted, my cock aching and uncomfortable in my pants.

  "Audience? I had my own room."

  The corner of my mouth ticked up at her innocence. "I'm going to make you scream your pleasure, kitten, and I guarantee everyone would have heard."

  "Oh," she murmured, shifting in my lap some more. She was secure within my hold, my arms around her as I held the reins, her head tucked beneath my chin. Her scent was soft and familiar to me, but having her so close had the floral scent surround me. Somehow, she smelled just like her name. All of her adopted sisters were named after flowers and Rose wasn't even the oldest. Marigold was. Yet Rose was the first to marry.

  "You tricked me, you know," she said as we climbed a small ridge. There were mountains in the distance to the west, but it was not bright enough to discern them.

  "Tricked you?" I may have followed her to Clayton, even applied a little coercion to wed, but she wanted the union as much as I. She just hadn't had time to consider and accept it.

  Femininity was not something she flaunted. If a man saw past her tomboyish ways and came calling or expressed the slightest interest, Rose directed him toward one of her sisters. She wore pants and usually had pieces of hay caught in her hair. I was the only man she'd allowed into her life, the only man she told her secrets to. The only man who wanted her just as she was, all prickly exterior hiding a most passionate interior, was me. I'd been ready since the day she turned eighteen. Hell, even then I’d waited another seventeen months. ‘Tricked’ would not be the word I'd use. ‘Patient,’ just or ‘ready’ would all be more apt.

  "You told that awful man I was your wife. You didn't need to do that and now look at me."

  I couldn't see her well from my position, but I could feel her. Smell her. Ache for her. Her hips were slim, yet I could feel her lush curves nonetheless.

  "You let yourself fall victim to a lecherous man with no moral leanings," I countered. I wouldn't kowtow to her.

  She was perturbed that we'd wed, but she was sore about something else, and it wasn't that I'd told the bastard a lie. I just had to be patient enough to find out what it was, which was going to be a hard task. My patience with her was at an end.

  "This wasn't my plan, Chance. You took away my plan!" She waved her hands as she spoke, bumping into my arms.

  Ah, now we were at the crux of her frustrations.

  "I took away your plans? You ran away, like a child!" I took a breath. "What, pray tell, were your plans?"

  I'd listened to her like this for years. Heard her woes since she was a little thing. A pet chicken that had ended up in a soup pot. A skinned knee falling from a tree. A boy from town who'd dipped her braid in ink. A rope swing that was used to cross a creek instead of a bridge. An interest in running her own ranch. As time went on, her problems and pl
ans changed, from simple to sophisticated, from childlike to mature. All the while I'd listened without offering any advice, or help. Until today.

  While she lived in a loving home, it was crowded, and the other members of the female household frowned on what they considered Rose’s manly pursuits. Her ideas were stifled. She was stifled, but she'd never done anything reckless enough to endanger herself before.

  "I was going to take the next stage out of town. East or west, it didn't matter. I just needed to be gone."

  The idea that she would venture alone without a plan or direction had my palm twitching. She needed to be taken in hand before she hurt herself and I wasn't there to save her.

  "With just the clothes on your back? How much money do you have?"

  "Fifty-six dollars."

  I ran my chin back and forth gently over the top of her head, enjoying the silky feel of her hair. The action may have seemed gentle and comforting to Rose, but I did it as a way to stall my words, to allow me a moment to get my frustration to a manageable level so I could speak with a calm voice.

  "The man at the saloon, I'm guessing he was offering you aid in your adventure?" I asked, my tone quite sarcastic. The very idea of that man's hands on her had my jaw clenching.

  "He was an...unexpected impediment."

  I couldn't help but grunt at that understatement.

  "I know what you're thinking," she replied.

  No, I doubted she did, for my thoughts veered to her either over my knee with her ass turning nice and pink or naked and her mouth occupied around my cock.

  "Oh?" My voice had a noticeable growl to it.

  "That I was impetuous."

  "I have been aware of that for quite some time," I countered dryly. Nothing she'd said about her foray into freedom told me to the contrary. "Are you remotely aware of the things he was going to do to you?"

  "I live with two former brothel owners," she countered, as if this made her an expert.