Wed To The Texas Outlaw

Melinda felt her stomach turn. She slid closer to Boone; the need to be near him natural and not a bit of show in it.

The danger involved in what they had undertaken hit her fresh. Boone’s big, solid presence helped to sooth the jitters skittering along her spine.

With an arm around her shoulders, he tugged her close. He squeezed his fingers, sending a message. No matter what, he would be here to keep her safe.

While she was, in most instances, able to see to her own safety, she leaned into him, took comfort in his large, Viking-like presence.

For all that she felt heartened. She knew that Boone felt the pressure of the situation. This close, she could see his jaw grinding with tension.

“We’ll be on our way, then, just as soon as we’ve loaded the wagon,” he stated.

“I wouldn’t settle on that land if I were you. The Kings see it as their own. Won’t be pleased that you’ve taken it over.”

“Pleased or not, they have no legal right to it,” Stanley pointed out.

“Well, you’ll find that they do what they want to whenever they want to do it. And a sorry day, too, for anyone who stands in their way.”

She felt Boone’s muscles tense. Glancing up, she saw his expression harden.

Boone dropped his gaze, stooped his back. Clearly he was striving hard to hold on to the character of Witherleaf. Behind the playacting, she suspected he was smoldering not withering. Just now, on the inside, Boone was probably as meek as the outlaw portrayed in his Wanted poster.

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