In His Touch: Blemished Brides Book 2 Read online

  IN HIS TOUCH

  Blemished Brides, Book 2

  Peggy L Henderson

  Contents

  Copyright

  Introduction

  1. Chapter One

  2. Chapter Two

  3. Chapter Three

  4. Chapter Four

  5. Chapter Five

  6. Chapter Six

  7. Chapter Seven

  8. Chapter Eight

  9. Chapter Nine

  10. Chapter Ten

  11. Chapter Eleven

  12. Chapter Twelve

  13. Chapter Thirteen

  14. Chapter Fourteen

  15. Chapter Fifteen

  16. Chapter Sixteen

  17. Chapter Seventeen

  18. Chapter Eighteen

  19. Chapter Nineteen

  20. Chapter Twenty

  21. Chapter Twenty-One

  22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Also by Peggy L Henderson

  Dear Reader

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author.

  Copyright © 2015 by Peggy Henderson

  All rights reserved

  To be the first to hear about new book releases, special announcements, and deals, please join my newsletter

  Introduction

  A year has passed since a tragic event stole everything from Laura – her husband, her dreams for the future, and her sense of self-worth. Determined to run her farm alone, she resolves to never give in to the man who wants her land, or allow vicious rumors to break her spirit. When a compelling drifter offers his help, Laura must face the insecurities that have prevented her from leading a normal life.

  Four long years in prison have given Cade plenty of time to plan his revenge against the man who framed him for murder. When a young widow saves his life, his unexpected attraction to her is a complication he hasn’t foreseen. In order to protect her from a common enemy, Cade is forced to hide things from the one person who deserves his honesty the most.

  Cade and Laura’s mutual attraction opens old wounds and demands they confront their deepest fears. Even as their love grows, Cade’s reluctance to be completely truthful might destroy their one chance at finding happiness with each other. Will Laura’s trust in Cade be strong enough to overcome the secret he’s been keeping, or will the man who is out to destroy them both be victorious in the end?

  Chapter One

  Montana Territory, 1887

  “I’m thirsty.”

  The little boy lifted his head away from Cade’s back. His arms, which he had wrapped tightly around Cade’s middle, relaxed. Cade reined his horse to a stop, and turned to look over his shoulder.

  “Appears there’s a farm or something up ahead a ways. We’ll stop there and ask the owner if we can fill up on water.”

  Cade tugged on the leather strap that hooked his canteen over the saddle horn. He uncorked it, swishing it in his hand. Perhaps there was a swallow or two of water left. He licked at his own dry lips, and handed the canteen to the boy.

  “Ain’t much left. Can you hold out for a little while longer?” Cade offered a reassuring smile.

  The little boy drained the last of the water, then looked up at Cade. His usually bright eyes were glazed over with fever. He nodded without any enthusiasm.

  Cade ran a hand over his jaw, his fingers combing through the rough hairs of his unshaven face. He hadn’t taken a straight-edge to it since leaving the mission in Vancouver nearly three weeks ago. Before that, most of the skin on his face hadn’t seen sunlight in more than four years.

  He’d barely recognized his own reflection after shaving off the lice-infested facial hair when he got out of that hell-hole of a prison in Deer Lodge. He’d taken a knife to his hair, which had grown past his shoulders, and had used the pulverized root of soap weed to rid himself of the vermin infestation. He’d seen some Piegans use the concoction once, and thankfully it had worked on him or he would have had to resort to shaving his head bald.

  He’d vowed never to let his hair grow as long as it had during his time in the Montana Territorial Penitentiary, but weeks on the trail had prevented his good intentions. The ends already touched his shirt collar. It was high time he cleaned himself up again, but for now, it might be better if he wasn’t immediately recognizable.

  “You think you can make it, or should we rest a spell?” He turned his head again to peer at the boy clinging to him like a tick on a hound.

  “I’ll make it,” came the listless reply.

  The boy needed rest, and some food, perhaps even a doctor. He’d taken sick sometime last night. Cade clenched his jaw. He’d avoided towns and settlements for weeks. He was almost to his destination. They’d be in Elk Lodge, the small town close to the bigger city of Deer Lodge, soon. He’d find a doctor first before tending to the business that had brought him back to the place he hated. Word would have gotten out that he’d left town immediately after his release from the penitentiary. Hopefully surprise was on his side that he’d come back now, months later.

  The saddle creaked when his hand slid down along his thigh to the scabbard that held his Winchester rifle. His fingers skimmed along the smooth wooden butt of the gun, comforted by its feel.

  His horse shifted weight beneath him and tossed his head impatiently. Cade tightened his legs around the animal’s girth to keep him quiet. The last thing he needed was for the stallion to get skittish underneath him and have the boy fall from the saddle. He’d been tempted to geld the animal plenty of times, but the horse held a sentimental, as well as monetary value, and so he’d put up with his antics.

  “I bet we can ask the folks at that farm up ahead for some supper,” he said with false cheer, and nudged his mount into a walk. The horse was eager to move along at a faster pace, but Cade kept a firm hand on the reins. Behind him, the boy merely nodded against his shirt.

  Cade’s chest expanded when he drew in a long breath of air. He pulled the brim of his hat further forward over his head, and focused on the windmill in the distance. The roof of a small farmhouse took shape a minute later, and he guided the horse toward it. Pine-covered hills sheltered the secluded homestead.

  Lush pastureland spread out before him as he urged his horse to walk faster without breaking into a trot, the four-beat cadence of the animal’s hooves in soft earth adding to the peaceful beauty of this area. Crickets chirped in the grasses, and a pair of ducks flew overhead, a sure sign that there was a water source nearby. He closed his eyes, savored the sounds and smells, but not even the sweet scent of meadow grass and mountain flowers that surrounded him could erase the memories of the last four years.

  Four long years in prison - four hard years of physical labor during the day, a six by eight foot cell at night, the freezing cold in the winter, and the blistering summer heat – had given him plenty of time to think about what he would do once he got out. The stench of human waste and disease from overcrowded conditions would remain embedded in his mind for the rest of his life. It was during those long and cold nights that he swore revenge on the man who had put him there, the man who had ruined his life and destroyed everything he loved. Cade clenched his fists around the reins. It was only a matter of time. He was almost at his destination.

  “Will we be there soon?” the little boy asked, his voice quiet enough that Cade had to strain his ears to hear.


  “It’s just up ahead,” he reassured the boy.

  Guilt nagged him that he hadn’t stopped and made camp somewhere sooner. What the hell had he been thinking, dragging a child not even five years old across rough terrain for nearly three weeks? What would happen when he reached Elk Lodge? He hadn’t thought that far ahead when he took the boy away from the mission at Fort Vancouver.

  Cade mentally shook his head. One look at the kid after he’d spent months tracking down his whereabouts, and he’d known that he couldn’t leave without him. He was the spitting image of . . .

  He shifted in the saddle, and swiped a hand across his face. The nuns had been glad to be rid of the boy. They’d raised him from infancy, along with the other orphans in their care, had given him the name Jonah, and dressed him in the same clothes as the other children, but he would have never fit in with them completely.

  Cade shot a quick look over his shoulder. The boy hadn’t wanted to leave the mission at the fort. To be yanked away by a complete stranger from the only life he’d ever known, even if it wasn’t a loving home, had to have been devastating for a child his age. It had taken some time to gain the boy’s trust, but over the course of the three weeks they’d spent on the trail, Jonah had warmed up to him. He’d seemed to realize that Cade had done him a favor by taking him away from the orphanage.

  “Maybe, if we’re lucky and ask real nice, they’ll let us bunk down in the barn, then you can rest for the night.”

  Jonah’s eyes lit up for a second. After weeks of camping out in the open, the thought of sleeping under a roof, even if it was in a barn, seemed to appeal to the kid. A shudder passed through Cade. After his time in prison, he preferred the outdoors to the confining feeling of four walls and a roof, but he would do what was best for the boy.

  The horse underneath him quickened its pace, its head raised and ears pricked forward. Cade gave the stallion a calming pat on the neck and stared into the distance. Several corrals surrounded the homestead, and a dozen or so horses dotted the hillside pasture. A shabby-looking barn that looked to have seen better days and was ready to fall down stood a ways away from the house. It didn’t appear to have much of a roof.

  “You smell those horses, don’t you, Cloud,” Cade whispered to his mount. “Don’t get any silly ideas.”

  Gritting his teeth, he snapped back on the reins and nudged the stallion’s sides to remind him who was in charge. If he had any sense at all, he’d sell the animal and buy a reliable saddle horse, but he hadn’t been able to do it. The horse had been a gift a long time ago, and he’d dishonor the memory of the man who gave him the animal as a young foal, before his life had been ruined.

  The sound of a gunshot pierced the air, sending the stallion forward before Cade could rein him in. One hard tug on the right rein brought the animal under control, while he reached behind him with his other arm to grab hold of Jonah.

  “You all right?” Cade shouted over his shoulder at the same time he yanked his rifle from its scabbard. “Hold on.”

  He glared at the farmhouse through narrowed eyelids. Three men sat horseback in front of the small house. A lone figure stood on the porch. Cade squinted. A woman held, what could be, a rifle in her hand, pointing at the riders. One of them turned his horse away from the house, then drew a revolver from his holster. He pointed it in Cade’s direction, and the other men spurred their mounts away from the house, toward him.

  Cade cursed under his breath. “Hold on, Jonah,” he shouted, and kicked his horse into a run. Several small cottonwoods stood off a short distance away, the only cover in this valley. He’d almost reached the trees when the three riders opened fire on him. Pulling back hard on the reins, he brought his mount to a skidding halt. He reached behind him and grabbed Jonah’s arm, all but tossing the boy from the saddle.

  “Get behind those trees,” he ordered through gritted teeth. Jonah stumbled, and ran for cover.

  Cade raised his rifle, and fired. One of the fast-approaching riders swayed in the saddle, and his horse slowed. Cade leapt from his mount and sprinted for the trees. He sighted the riders. Before he could fire, a bullet ricocheted off one of the trunks. Jonah cried out. Cade fired, then dropped to his knees beside Jonah. He cursed again.

  Blood trickled along the boy’s cheek. Cade swiped a thumb against Jonah’s face, and breathed easy. A splinter from the bark must have grazed his face. Cade pulled the boy into his embrace, shielding him with his body. Crouching low, he maneuvered around the trees for better cover. He grabbed his revolver from its holster at his hip, and looked up. More shots fired, sending dirt up from the ground close to Cade’s boots.

  “Sonofabitch.” He gritted his teeth, aimed and fired. The shot hit its mark, and a man fell from his horse.

  Another shot rang out from somewhere behind them, and the two remaining riders whipped their heads around. Cade seized on the opportunity, took aim, and pulled the trigger. One man cried out, but remained in the saddle. The other kicked his horse closer to where Cade took cover with Jonah. With a sneer on his face, he aimed just as Cade cocked his own gun. He shoved Jonah to the side and sprang to his feet, raising his revolver. Two shots fired at the same time. A sharp pain ripped through his chest, his last awareness as he sank to the ground and darkness overtook him.

  Chapter Two

  “And stay the hell off my land.”

  Laura raised her rifle one last time, pointing it at the riders whose horses stirred up dust as they galloped away. At least the two still sitting in the saddle had thought enough of their fallen companion to retrieve his body before riding off. She forced air into her lungs, and swiped at her forehead. A tear of frustration trickled down her face.

  “Dammit,” she whispered through clenched teeth, trying to catch her breath. Would the harassment ever stop? Jack’s cronies were getting more brazen. Today had been the first time she’d fired off her rifle in an attempt to get rid of the men. Never had she expected that it would lead to an all-out gunfight, and someone getting shot. She’d meant her shot as a warning, that she wasn’t afraid to use her rifle if needed.

  The three mares in the corral near the old barn stirred up dust and ran around their pen, their loud whinnies mixing with the sounds of hoof beats and an answering call from another horse. Laura wheeled toward the sound, her rifle raised and ready to fire. A riderless gray horse galloped into the yard, snorting and calling to the mares.

  “What on earth?”

  She rushed to the corral. This was the horse she’d glimpsed coming toward the farm just seconds before Jack’s men charged from her yard and opened fire on the animal’s rider. Obviously, she’d made the wrong assumption in thinking that he was one of them.

  Had he been killed? She scanned into the distance. The sparse group of cottonwoods caught her attention. There was definite movement by those trees, but it was too small to be the figure of a fully-grown man.

  The mares squealed and crowded the fence, while the gray snorted and nickered.

  “A stud horse?”

  Laura’s eyes widened. Her head darted from the horse to the trees in the distance. Indecision plagued her. If she didn’t catch the animal now, he’d likely tear down the corral fence to get at her mares. She also had to see about the man who was out there, even if her body flooded with dread. No one ever came to the farm, unless it was Jack’s men trying to intimidate her. Most likely this stranger was dead, but she had to be sure.

  Her eyes lingered on the animal. What sensible man used a stallion for a saddle horse, especially a fine-blooded thoroughbred like this one appeared to be?

  “Whoa, there,” she called to the tall horse.

  She approached slowly. Stallions were not something to mess with, especially when they had the scent of a mare in their nostrils. Luckily, these three weren’t currently in season. The gray snorted and whinnied, pawing at the fence. He pinned his ears, and lunged with bared teeth at one of the mares that had taken a nip at his neck.

  “Fine-looking horse or not
, you’re not going to injure my mares,” Laura mumbled under her breath. She held her rifle out in front of her, in case the stallion decided to turn on her. When she was close enough, she reached forward and grabbed for one of the reins that dangled from the animal’s bridle. She tugged on the leather just as the stud lunged at the fence again.

  Taking a firm hold of the rein, Laura gave it a quick snap. “Hey, now,” she called in a loud voice. Her eyes widened in surprise when the stallion backed away from the fence, and stood, his ears on her.

  “At least someone taught you a few manners,” she muttered, then gave another quick tug on the rein to move him further away from the corral. The mares nickered and squealed, and trotted around the pen. The big gray snorted, blowing air through his nostrils with his head held high.

  “Yeah, you’re not impressing those girls this week.”

  Laura reached for the other rein that still dangled on the ground. She tucked her rifle under her arm and held her hand out. The stallion sniffed it, then snorted again. “And you’re not going to intimidate me, either.”

  She ran her hand along the animal’s muscular neck, which was stretched taut with excitement. His shoulders and flanks steamed with heat. He whinnied loudly when the mares moved away from the fence, apparently as unimpressed with his display as Laura had predicted.

  The stallion snorted a final time. He shook his head, then the rest of his body followed, like a wet dog shaking off excess water.

  “That’s right, you’d best just get any silly notions out of your head.” Laura smiled, and gave him another pat on the neck. She turned her attention to the trees again, and sighed. Time to find out about this animal’s owner.

  “You’re obviously broke to ride,” she mumbled, and reached for the saddle horn. Judging by the silver dappling in his coat, he couldn’t be older than five or six. It would be another five or more years before he’d gray out completely.