Texas Gold (Mills & Boon Historical) Read online

  “I think my wife knows me well enough to be assured of her own safety.”

  The sheriff cut an inquiring look at Faith. “You’re sure?”

  Faith nodded.

  The sheriff mounted his gelding and swung the horse in a half circle. “I won’t stand for any shenanigans, McDowell. Miss Faith is under my protection, so long as she’s living in this county.”

  Max shot him a glittering look from dark eyes that brooked no interference. “I think I heard my wife tell you I was not a harsh man, Sheriff. Isn’t that good enough for you?”

  “Max…” The warning was clear, Faith’s use of his name drawing his attention and obliging Max to nod agreeably.

  “Don’t worry about the lady,” Max said. “I’ve never hurt Faith before. And I’m certainly not about to change my ways.”

  Texas Gold

  Harlequin Historical #663

  Praise for Carolyn Davidson’s recent titles

  The Texan

  “…heart-touching characters and a vivid, mythic setting…”

  —Romantic Times

  A Convenient Wife

  “Carolyn Davidson creates an engaging, complex plot with a hero to die for.”

  —Romantic Times

  The Bachelor Tax

  “From desperate situation to upbeat ending, Carolyn Davidson reminds us why we read romance.”

  —Romantic Times

  The Tender Stranger

  “Davidson wonderfully captures gentleness in the midst of heart-wrenching challenges, portraying the extraordinary possibilities that exist within ordinary marital love.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  #664 OF MEN AND ANGELS

  Victoria Bylin

  #665 BEAUCHAMP BESIEGED

  Elaine Knighton

  #666 THE BETRAYAL

  Ruth Langan

  Texas Gold

  Carolyn Davidson

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Available from Harlequin Historicals and

  CAROLYN DAVIDSON

  Gerrity’s Bride #298

  Loving Katherine #325

  The Forever Man #385

  Runaway #416

  The Wedding Promise #431

  The Tender Stranger #456

  The Midwife #475

  *The Bachelor Tax #496

  *Tanner Stakes His Claim #513

  *One Christmas Wish #531

  “Wish Upon a Star”

  Maggie’s Beau #543

  The Seduction of Shay Devereaux #556

  A Convenient Wife #585

  A Marriage by Chance #600

  The Texan #615

  Tempting a Texan #647

  Texas Gold #663

  This story was written during a time when I found, firsthand, just how fragile we are as human beings. Thankfully, my own private crisis was resolved and my life partner was restored to health. To those who shared those months with me, offering me their strength and hope when my own faltered, I dedicate this book. As did Faith and Max in my story, I found, through those long days, new depths in the relationship of our marriage.

  I would be amiss if I did not include Mr. Ed in these few words, so

  To the man whose love I cherish above all else, I offer my devotion…for all time.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Benning, Texas—1898

  Maxwell McDowell. As if the name on the note she held were written in flame, and the ensuing heat had burned her fingers, Faith dropped the crumpled bit of paper to the ground. A lump rose in her throat as she closed her eyes and viewed the promised wreckage of the life she’d managed to put together over the past three years.

  “I’d say it’s pretty safe to say you recognize the fella’s name.”

  Her lashes rose, and she was silent. Her visitor’s gaze was penetrating, his mouth set in a firm line, and for a moment, Faith was tempted to use his broad chest for a resting place.

  She shook her head, both at the notion that had possessed her, and in reply to the sheriff’s query. “Who did he say he was looking for?” she asked, aware that her voice trembled.

  Brace Caulfield touched her arm, and she sensed the respect he offered in the gesture. “Can I do anything, Miss Faith? I don’t want anybody coming around here, trying to upset you or give you a hassle.” And then he sighed as she shot him a look that demanded an answer.

  “He said he was huntin’ for a woman called Faith McDowell. His wife, if my suspicions run true to form. I told him there wasn’t anybody hereabouts by that name, but if he’d write it out for me, along with his own, I’d show it around—see if I could come up with any information for him.”

  He bent and snagged the crumpled bit of paper between his thumb and index finger, smoothing the wrinkles until the stark, bold lines of her husband’s signature, with her name beneath it, were revealed. “You know this fella, don’t you?” Brace asked quietly.

  Faith shrugged. “Maybe. Let’s just say I don’t care to see the gentleman, Sheriff. If you feel obliged to tell him my whereabouts, I suppose I’ll understand, but I won’t like it one little bit.”

  Her mind raced, one idea after another tumbling about, only to be rejected in rapid succession. Running was the first, closely followed by the urge to hide, to bury her identity and find a new place in which to huddle until the danger was past. But, like all her notions, that one depended on a certain amount of financial security.

  She had none. Living in a borrowed home, bartering for her very existence and spending her days and nights in a state of anticipation of just this very thing taking place had not given her any degree of serenity.

  Now she faced discovery and found she could not, in all honesty, lie to the lawman who had befriended her over the past three years.

  “I left my husband back East a long time ago. My reasons are my own and—”

  Brace’s upright hand halted her words. “I’m not asking for any explanations, Miss Faith.” His eyes held more than a bit of disappointment, she thought. Sheriff Caulfield had been subtle, but his interest in her as a woman was obvious. Her feminine instincts were betting he’d been getting up his nerve to come courting.

  The knowledge that she was married had put a damper on that idea.

  “Are you afraid of him, ma’am?” the sheriff asked quietly. She thought his spine stiffened, and not for the first time, she was thankful for his watchful care.

  “Do I think he’ll hurt me?” Faith shook her head. “No, Max isn’t a harsh man, at least not to women and children. I wouldn’t want to cross him in his business dealings, but as a woman, I’m safe enough in his presence.”

  “How about as his wife?” Brace asked bluntly. “If he’s spent a good bit of time hunting you down, he may not have much patience where you’re concerned.”

  She shrugged, dismissing the idea. “His pride’s been damaged, that’s all. I doubt he’s overly concerned with dragging me back home with him. More likely he’s wanting me to sign a bill of divorcement so he can get on with his life.”

  Brace folded his arms across his chest. “Well, what do you want me to tell him? Shall I give him directions, or do you want to go into town and meet him in my office?”

  “Send him out,
” she said, her shoulders slumping in weariness as she thought of what must come to pass. “I’ll handle it, Sheriff.”

  “A wise choice.” The dark, deep tones were familiar to her, and Faith had no need to turn around to determine who spoke. Yet she did, knowing she was better off facing him than giving in to cowardice.

  Leading a saddled horse, he stepped from around the side of the house, then halted, his gaze intent on the sheriff. “I followed you,” he said, tilting his hat back in a gesture that revealed his face.

  “Thought I’d kept a close eye behind me,” Brace answered, one hand touching the butt of his revolver. “Didn’t take you for a sneaky man, mister.”

  “I wouldn’t call it sneaky,” Max McDowell said quietly. “I had an idea you knew more than you were willing to admit when we spoke this morning. Didn’t think it would hurt to tag along.”

  Brace muttered an oath, his face turning crimson as if he recognized his failure to keep Faith’s location a secret from the intruder.

  “It’s all right,” she said hastily when the lawman would have stepped protectively in front of her. “I’ll talk to Max. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine.”

  Max nodded, the movement slight. “I think my wife knows me well enough to be assured of her own safety.”

  Brace cut an inquiring look at Faith. “You’re sure?” Obviously dragging his feet, he lifted the reins he’d dropped to the ground. “Should I stop by and talk to Garvey?”

  Faith shook her head. “No, there’s no point in dragging anyone else in on this.”

  Brace Caulfield mounted his gelding and swung the horse in a half circle. “I won’t stand for any shenanigans, McDowell. Miss Faith is under my protection, so long as she’s living in this county.”

  Max shot him a glittering look from dark eyes that brooked no interference. “I think I heard my wife tell you I was not a harsh man, Sheriff. Isn’t that good enough for you?”

  “Max…” The warning was clear, Faith’s use of his name drawing his attention and obliging him to nod agreeably.

  “Don’t worry about the lady,” Max said, his voice chilled with contempt. “I’ve never hurt Faith before. And I’m certainly not about to change my ways.” He led his mount forward, and with a quick movement, released the cinch with an ease of motion that surprised Faith. Max had never been an avid horseman, yet had kept a mare in a livery stable, riding for exercise when the burdens of business became weighty and he sought relief in an hour or two outdoors.

  Now he repeated his words, emphasizing each one. “I said, don’t worry about my wife, Sheriff. She’s in no danger.”

  Brace grudgingly grunted agreement, gave Faith a last, questioning look, and then, at her nod of reassurance, nudged his horse into a trot and headed toward town.

  The man she’d married more than six years before had changed a bit, she decided. Max McDowell was beginning to show his age. A scattering of white touched his temples, adding a bit of dignity to his already stalwart appearance. He carried himself well, she thought, as he always had.

  For Max the paunch developed by men who ate well and exercised little would never come. His body had always been that of a man who worked hard, and he’d developed a muscular structure, one to be envied by lesser beings. Dark hair, cut short lest it wave overmuch, capped his well-formed head. His features, that arrangement of facial components that made him a prize sought by women wherever he went, had not changed.

  Chiseled, or perhaps severe, she decided, was the best description she could come up with for the rigid jawline, the blade of a nose and the deep-set, dark eyes that could slice through her like a bolt of lightning, leaving her trembling, and aware of the effect he’d always had on her.

  She trembled now—now that the full force of his attention was directed on her slender frame. Perhaps it had been an error in judgment, sending Brace on his way. Yet she could not imagine holding this postmortem in front of a stranger. And certainly Max would not be leaving until he’d had his pound of flesh.

  Perhaps it was only a figure of speech, but given that the flesh in question was ultimately to come from her, she didn’t find the vision of the hour or so ahead of her an appetizing prospect.

  “Are we going to stand out here all morning?” Max asked. “If you’ll allow it, I’ll put my horse into the pasture or the barn, whichever suits you.”

  “I’ll take him,” Faith said, snatching at the opportunity to walk away from the man who’d pursued her halfway across the country. “Sit down on the porch while I turn him loose out in back.”

  “I’ll help you,” Max said smoothly, walking beside her, allowing her not a moment in which to gather her wits before she was faced with the confrontation that was sure to come. His hand brushed against hers as if he commanded her attention, and she drew aside, unwilling to allow him any familiarity.

  His chuckle surprised her, and she glanced up, wary of the humor that lit his gaze. “What’s so funny?”

  “You. Trying to avoid the simple touch of my hand against yours. When we both know you didn’t feel so hesitant to have my hands on you once upon a time.”

  She felt a blush redden her cheeks, knew the haze of anger blurring her vision. “That was a cheap shot, Max. Although it tells me much about your opinion of me. I wasn’t aware that you thought so little of my—”

  “You haven’t the faintest idea what I thought about you,” he said harshly, interrupting her before she could muster an adequate defense. “You didn’t give me a chance to answer any of your accusations or offer any compromise that might have salvaged something of the wreck we’d managed to make of our marriage.”

  “I knew,” she said quietly, opening the gate to the corral and leading his mount through the dusty area to the pasture gate beyond. She quickly stripped the saddle from the horse’s back, and Max took its weight from her, tossing it atop the corral fence.

  “You knew?” he asked, brushing his hands together as he stepped ahead to lift the latch on the narrow entry to the lush grass beyond the fence. Three horses occupied the pasture, two of them the team she used for field work. Her own mare looked up, sent a shrill welcome to the visitor and loped eagerly toward them.

  “I’ll be damned.” Max’s words were a hushed whisper. “Where’d you get that mare?” he asked, his attention taken by the golden creature that approached. Creamy mane flying in the wind, her tail a flag held high, the horse was a vision to behold.

  “Bought her,” Faith said shortly.

  “She’s breeding,” he said, his gaze scanning the slender legs and swollen belly. “When’s she due to drop her foal?”

  “Anytime now.” And if he thought he was going to be here to attend the event, he had another think coming, she decided.

  “Have you got a buyer lined up?” Max reached for the mare, spooking her with his touch, and she tossed her head, flirting a bit, as if she were accustomed to attention from visitors.

  “The foal will belong to my neighbor, Nicholas Garvey. I used his stud. He’ll breed her for me in another month or so, and the next one is mine.”

  Max shot her a look of disbelief. “You’re not charging him, just giving him—”

  “I made the deal,” she said harshly. “I live in this house, free of charge. He owns it, and he keeps an eye on things…sort of looks after me.”

  The dark eyes grew cold, his jaw tightened, and his mouth was a thin line. “Looks after you? And allows you to live in his house? And where does he spend his nights?”

  She felt a chill pebble her flesh at the offending words. “My neighbor’s interest in me is none of your business,” she retorted.

  “I’d say it is. You’re my wife. I have a license in my pack that proves it. Any man who’s been looking at you—”

  His words were stilled by the flat of her hand, the sound resembling a gunshot as she swung her arm in an unexpected motion he stood no chance of halting. “Don’t you dare insult me that way,” she whispered. “Or Nicholas either, for that matter.
He’s my neighbor, not my lover. His wife would not stand by and watch that happen, let alone the fact that my own sense of decency—”

  Max halted her words by the simple act of holding his hand over her mouth. She felt the calluses on his palm rub against her lips, shivered again as he stepped closer and circled her waist with his other arm.

  “I apologize,” he said, bridling his temper. His nostrils flared, but he bowed his head just a bit, a conciliatory gesture, she thought. “I had no right to make such a statement.”

  His grip tightened and she stumbled, losing her balance, her weight held up by his greater strength and the long lines of muscle, sinew and bone that made up his stalwart frame.

  She trembled at his touch, the heat of his body radiating through the layers of their clothing. Shrinking from the intimacy of their positions, she felt his hand at the base of her spine flatten, pressing her even closer, and became suddenly aware of the taut, powerful length of his thighs.

  And then was taken aback by the unmistakable shape of his masculine arousal against her belly.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said, his eyes narrowing as if he’d only just recognized the telltale sign of his reaction to her warmth. “It’s obviously been a long time since a woman stood this close to me. I didn’t mean to be so blatant.” A crooked smile curved his lips, and his gaze touched her mouth and softened. “But then, you’ve always had this effect on me, haven’t you, Faith? One touch, one smile, and I was at your beck and call.”

  “In the bedroom, perhaps,” she said quietly. Her hands lifted to press with force against his chest, and he released her. “I never complained, at least not until the last few months we were together, about your attentiveness.”

  “And that change was at your own request,” he reminded her, sliding his fingers into the back pockets of his trousers, as though that were the safest place for them to rest.

  Her hands clenched, and she shot him an angry look. “I don’t want to hear a discussion of what went on in my bedroom. Please, say whatever you came to say, and then leave.” And then anger twisted her features. “In fact, I’ve changed my mind about even that. Just get on your horse and go, Max.”