THE OUTLAW BRIDE Page 5

  "Look, I know it's all got to be very confusing to you. But … well, I'm gonna help you adjust to everything. Explain it to you as we go along. The thing is, you're going to be seeing a lot of things you've never seen before. But you'll have to try not to act surprised by them … at least, not in front of the others."

  She lifted her brows. "I will try … but it will not be easy."

  "No, I know it won't." He drew a breath, wanting to put her at ease, at least a little bit, but he wasn't sure how. "Look, what Chelsea said goes for me, too. You're welcome to stay here just as long as you want. I mean, until we figure out what to do."

  Uh-oh. That look was back. Her eyes flashed, and she tossed her head. "Oh, sí, that is so very generous of you, señor. Allowing me to stay on my own land for as long as I wish. What more could I ask for?"

  "Hell, are we back to that again?"

  She narrowed her eyes on him. Then averted them. "No."

  "No?"

  Her back was to him now as she leaned over the tub, moving her hands beneath the flow of the water, playing with the knobs. Elliot touched her shoulders, closed his hands over them and turned her gently to face him again. "What do you mean, no? You mean you're just letting it go, just like that?"

  She shrugged.

  Elliot shook his head. "I don't know you very well, Esmeralda, but I know better than to believe that. What are you up to?"

  "I can be up to nothing. Elliot Brand. Because I know nothing. Not whether I will stay in this time or find a way back to my own. Not how to live or what the laws of this place might be. I have no plan. I have no means of making one. So for now, sí, I will let this matter go. And I will learn. I will learn all I need to know, and then I will decide what I must do."

  Elliot sighed in relief so great his shoulders almost sagged with it. He'd been half-scared she was going to go shouting her claims to the Texas Brand to anyone with eardrums, and that wouldn't have been good. How the hell would he have explained that?

  "Thank goodness," he said. And he offered her a smile. "That's the best thing to do, Esmeralda. Honest, it is."

  She nodded, turning away and shutting off the water flow.

  "You sure are a fast learner," he said.

  "Oh, sí, very fast. It would be a wise thing for you to remember, Elliot Brand." She straightened, lifted her hands and peeled off the short jacket. Then she began unbuttoning her bloodstained blouse. Her eyes were on his, dark, challenging, calculating.

  Elliot felt his face go beet-red, and quickly turned his back. "I'll, uh … I'll just leave you to your bath, then," he blurted, and then he left that room as if the devil were after him.

  He met Chelsea on the way out. She had a stack of clothes in her arms and a speculative gleam in her eyes. "Go on, I'll take care of her from here," she said. "I think your brothers would like a word with you downstairs."

  Oh, hell, he was going to get the third degree for sure. Well, nothing to do but buck up and face it. He didn't need to take anything he didn't want to. And he wouldn't.

  When he arrived in the parlor, the boys were waiting. Adam, Wes, Ben and Garrett all sat perched like vultures waiting to pick his bones apart. Little Bubba sat on Garrett's knee, turning the pages of a Dr. Seuss book as if he were actually reading it.

  Wes went first. "Where's Taylor's find, El? I didn't see it in the pickup. Just the empty box."

  Licking his lips, Elliot lowered his head. "I don't know."

  "You … don't know?"

  He lifted his head to meet his brother's eyes.

  "That's right, I don't know. I took it out of the box to see what all the fuss was about, and it must have flown out of my hand when I hit the tree. I looked, Wes, but I couldn't find it."

  Wes jumped to his feet, started to swear, then glanced to where his nephew sat on Garrett's knee and bit his lip.

  "I'll go back and look some more," Elliot said. "It's probably lying in plain sight and I was just too shaken up to notice it."

  "Taylor said that thing was important, El. You have to find it."

  "And I will."

  "Fine." Wes lowered his head and took his seat again.

  "Now," Garrett said, "about the woman." Elliot's head came up. "What about her?"

  "Chelsea seems to think she's in some kind of trouble."

  Adam pursed his lips, nodding. "And she seems to think you're about to join her there."

  "Yeah, well, Chelsea's way off base on this, believe me."

  Adam looked at Garrett. Garrett lifted his brows. "She's … awfully pretty," he said. "So?"

  "So … be careful, Elliot. She's obviously … involved. Maybe even married. I don't want you making yourself a target for whatever lunatic put that bruise on her face."

  "Yeah, a lot you know, big brother. She's not involved, and she's not married, and the lunatic is long, long gone. Trust me on that."

  "Yeah?" Garrett absently stroked Bubba's hair. "And how do you know all that?"

  "I just do."

  There was a collective sigh. Adam said, "Look, you're man enough to make your own decisions. We just don't want you walking into a mess of trouble."

  "Hey, that's your department. I don't do trouble. You—all four of you—do a fine job of that without my help. I found this woman, and she needed help, and I gave it to her. We're Brands, that's what we do—what any of you would have done. So get off my back already."

  They looked at one another. Ben, always quiet, got to his feet. "I've got a wife to get home to. I hate leaving her alone for a second with the baby already two days overdue. Elliot … if you need me…"

  "You all act like I've caught some dread disease! I'm fine. For crying out loud, what's with you guys?"

  Ben shrugged, slapped Elliot's shoulder as he passed and headed out the door. "I should go, too," Wes said. "Taylor was feeling better earlier, but who knows when this bug she has will come back."

  "Yeah, me, too," Adam said. "Kirsten's been dealing with the contractors all day. She's probably ready to skin me by now." He chewed his lip. "Elliot, I'll come by in the morning, and we can get that pickup towed in."

  "No need. You've got to get your dude ranch ready to open. I'll just call that new guy in town. What's his name—you know, just opened up a body shop on the River Road

  . He has a tow truck."

  Adam shrugged. "Okay."

  Elliot glanced at Wes. "Tell Taylor I'm real sorry about that skull thingie, but I'll get it back for her. And that's a promise."

  Wes's scowl softened a bit. "Yeah, well, accidents happen." He shook his head. "Besides, you've got enough to deal with right now. I suppose I can lay off you … for the moment, at least."

  "Shoot, I don't have anything to deal with besides a banged-up truck and too many brothers with active imaginations. No doubt sparked by one matchmaking sister-in-law. And speaking of females, where is Jessi, anyway?"

  "Took her truck and headed home," Garrett said. "She couldn't wait to tell Lash that her brother had brought home a stray. And she didn't seem all that happy about it, either, Elliot."

  The others filed out, and Elliot was watching the door close behind them when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He turned, and then he just stood there like an idiot, staring.

  Esmeralda was coming down the stairs, wearing a snug-fitting pair of jeans and a pretty white button-down blouse with flowers embroidered on the shoulders. Her hair was gleaming, curling, still damp but not real wet. Shoot, Chelsea must have demonstrated the wonders of the blow-dryer. But damn, the woman looked good. She looked sweet and soft and good. Dark and exotic and … just good.

  Garrett nudged him with an elbow, and Elliot realized he hadn't even noticed his brother getting up or setting Bubba down. "Well, you're just in time. I've got dinner warming in the oven," Garrett said.

  But Elliot was still staring, and now Esmeralda was staring back. Her eyes on his like laser beams. It made him feel odd inside. His stomach sort of roiled and lurched, and his hands itched.

  "This … i
s all right, no?" Esmeralda asked, and she finally looked away from him, down at the clothes she wore.

  Elliot found his voice. "Looks just fine," he said. "You look lovely," Garrett added. "I hope you're hungry."

  "Oh, sí, I am." She came across the room to where Elliot stood, and he managed to get his feet unstuck from the floor, turn and guide her into the kitchen. It was a big kitchen, really half kitchen, half dining room. Garrett had the table already set. Elliot pulled out a chair for her, and Esmeralda sat down. But she wasn't looking at the food Garrett began piling in front of them, or the plates. She was checking out the range and the fridge, and eyeing the microwave, with the green numbers of its digital clock glowing the time at her. Man, she must feel the way he would feel if he got beamed up to the starship Enterprise.

  When everyone was seated, Garrett said, "So, Esmeralda … tell us about yourself. Where are you from?"

  "Quinn," she said. Then she looked up quickly and added, "But I've been away for a long while. In Mexico, with my aunt."

  "I see. I don't think I know your family. What's your last name?"

  "Montoya," she said. "But, um … I no longer have any family living in Quinn. I haven't for … for a long time now."

  "Where are your family living now, Esmeralda?" Chelsea asked.

  Esmeralda looked down quickly, and Elliot thought her eyes dampened a bit. "They are not living at all. I mean, they have all died. I have no family anymore."

  "I'm so sorry." Chelsea's voice was sincere. She had that look in her eyes, though. The one she seemed to have picked up from Jessi. The one that said she wanted to keep this newcomer, take her in like a stray pet.

  "It has been a very long time," Esmeralda said. "But it doesn't feel as if it has been more than a day."

  "No, of course not. Grief is like that."

  "Sí. I guess it is." Esmeralda began eating, signaling an end to that part of the conversation. Elliot couldn't do more than watch her. She ate with gusto, tasting each dish and then diving into it as if she were starved. He'd never seen a woman put away so much food in a single sitting.

  Eventually she paused long enough to glance his way, which was not hard, since he was sitting right next to her. "Are you not hungry?"

  Elliot looked at his food, the fried chicken leg on his plate. "No, I … don't seem to be."

  Esmeralda shrugged and took his chicken.

  "You hear that, Garrett?" Chelsea asked. "Your brother isn't hungry. I didn't think I'd ever hear those words from his lips."

  Garrett just smiled and went back to eating. Bubba was eyeing everyone with interest, watching the goings-on with a keen eye, too keen for a four-year-old. The kid would start school in the fall, and Elliot fully expected his genius nephew to skip the first few grades.

  When everyone was quiet, Bubba looked up at Elliot and tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, his face very serious.

  "What is it, Bubba?"

  "Is she your new girlfriend?" Bubba asked, deadpan.

  Elliot wanted to crawl under the table. "That's Esmeralda. And she's a friend."

  "Es…mer…"

  "You can call me Essie, little one. It is what my papa used to call me," Esmeralda said.

  Bubba grinned. "Essie!" he said, triumph in his voice.

  "That's very good," she told him, and Bubba beamed.

  Her voice grew so much softer, sweeter, when she spoke to the child. And it was genuine. Nothing hiding beneath the surface.

  Elliot got up when the meal was finished and started clearing the plates. Bubba gripped Esmeralda's hand and was tugging her back into the parlor, jabbering something about the Star Rangers, and she was smiling down at him.

  Chelsea said, "All right, but just a half hour, young man, and then it's time for bed."

  As Bubba led Essie out of the kitchen, into the living room, Chelsea shook her head. "I swear, if I let him, he'd watch that TV twenty-four hours a day."

  "Yeah," Elliot said, "he loves his … television … oh, crap!" He dropped the plates back onto the table and raced for the living room.

  Too late. Bubba was thumbing the remote and the scenes were changing on the TV screen one after the other. Esmeralda was standing in the middle of the parlor, with her back to Elliot, facing the television screen. Her knees seemed to weaken a bit, and she reached out for something to grab onto, but nothing was there. At least, not until Elliot lurched forward. "It's all right," he whispered, as her hand closed around his forearm in a death grip. "Damn, I should have warned you about this. It's nothing to be afraid of."

  She turned and searched his face, then glanced back at the TV screen as Bubba paused in his channel surfing to watch something being blown up. Big explosion, fire, fake bodies and parts thereof flying hither and yon. Esmeralda shrieked, and the next thing Elliot knew, her face was buried against his chest and she was trembling all over.

  "Bubba, flip it to Star Rangers, would you? You know you're not supposed to be watching that kind of garbage," Elliot said, and his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. Shrugging, Bubba obliged, and finally the cartoon characters filled the screen.

  Elliot's arms were around Esmeralda now, his hands on her back, moving in soothing circles as she curled closer to him. "It's okay, I promise. It's not real, that thing. It's just make-believe. Pretend."

  She was still shaking. Damn. He held her tighter. "It … it frightens me, that box," she muttered, her lips moving on his shirt as she spoke.

  "I know. I know. But it can't hurt you. It's not real, Esmeralda."

  Sniffling, she lifted her head. "Not real?"

  "No. Did you ever see a play? Actors on a stage, pretending?"

  Blinking, she said, "I have never seen one, but I have heard of such things."

  "That's all this is. Actors pretending. People watch the stories. But none of it's real."

  She took a quick glance at the Star Rangers. They were being chased by some giant hairy monster with dripping fangs. She shook her head hard. "I do not like it."

  "No, I'm not too fond of it myself. You don't have to watch. Come on, we can just go—"

  "No, wait." Her eyes were still glued to the screen, as the Star Rangers, cornered by the angry creature, looked doomed. "I … I will just see this … uno momento." Peeling herself away from Elliot, she moved closer to the TV, and as he watched her, wondering why he felt so cold and his arms felt so empty all of a sudden, she moved still closer, gaze still fixed on the screen. Then she sat down on the floor beside Bubba, as mesmerized as he was.

  Bubba leaned toward her. "Don't worry. They'll get away. The Star Rangers always get away."

  "Sí, but how? They are trapped," she whispered back.

  Just then one of the Rangers performed some physically-impossible-unless-you-happened-to-be-a-cartoon leap, landing on the monster's head and snapping a blindfold around its bulging eyes. Unable to see, the monster swung its claws uselessly, hitting only air, while the other Rangers cast a net over its head and wrapped it up, nice and neat and immobile.

  "Oh! How clever they are!" Esmeralda said, clapping her hands. "Now they will kill the beast, no?"

  "Nah. Star Rangers never kill anybody."

  "No?" Esmeralda asked. "Why not?"

  "'Cause it's a kids' program," Bubba answered, nodding sagely. "And grown-ups don't like kids watching stuff like that."

  Esmeralda shook her head and shrugged helplessly. "Then what will they do with that beast?"

  "Watch." Bubba pointed, and they both fell silent. Shortly, a helicopter hovered on the screen and dropped a cable, which the Rangers hooked to the net. Then the copter took off, carrying the monster away.

  "He can live out his days safely on Monster Island," one Ranger said. "And he won't be able to hurt anyone there."

  Very politically correct, those Star Rangers, Elliot thought.

  The theme song came up, and Bubba sang along. Esmeralda began bobbing her head in time. And when it ended, Elliot realized Chelsea and Garrett were standing right behind him
and had probably witnessed the whole thing.

  "Time for bed," Chelsea said.

  "But—"

  "No buts, Bubba. Bedtime is bedtime, you know that," Garrett added.

  Bubba sighed, but got up and went to his parents, collecting a hug and a kiss from each of them. "I think Essie was scared of the TV at first, Mamma," Bubba told her, his voice too old for him. "But then she kinda liked it."

  Chelsea shot Garrett a frown, but tousled her child's hair lovingly. "Well, who could not like the Star Rangers?"

  "Can Essie tuck me in?" Bubba asked. "Please?"

  "Sure, if she's not too tired." Chelsea looked at Esmeralda, who was getting to her feet.

  "Oh, sí, I would love to tuck you in, little one."

  She came forward and took Bubba's hand, and he led her up the stairs, singing the Star Rangers song all the way. Halfway up, Esmeralda joined in.

  Elliot intended to follow. But Chelsea's voice stopped him. "Odd, wasn't it, her reaction to the television?"

  Elliot stopped, but didn't turn. "Oh, it was just the violence, I think. Some people are, um … more sensitive than others, you know."

  "So sensitive they cry out, hide their eyes and shake all over?" Chelsea asked. Elliot just shrugged. "You were pretty sensitive yourself, holding her like you did."

  "Well … I mean, I was just…"

  "Best get on up there, El," Garrett interrupted, saving his hide, Elliot thought. "Bubba will have her telling him stories till dawn, if you don't watch it."

  With a quick nod, Elliot raced up the stairs.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  « ^ »

  Children were still the same. At least that much hadn't changed. Esmeralda tucked the child in, as he excitedly told her all about himself and his home, the horse his daddy had given him a year ago, and how he would go to the stables to feed and groom it with help from his uncles. She sat there and let him talk until he'd talked himself out, and finally his eyes began to droop tiredly, but still he talked. And still she stayed.

  What had happened to her? How had she ended up in this foreign world, this strange place where seemingly kind people wore the faces of murderers from a time long past? They'd been good to her, these Brands. So far. They welcomed her among them, or seemed to. They apparently worried for her safety, had even offered their protection. She had no sooner arrived here than they had closed ranks around her.