Page 75 of In Honor’s Defense

Nathaniel swallowed, then pivoted to look at her. Admiration and unqualified acceptance radiated from him. Her heart nearly burst.

“That settles it,” Luke said, his voice hard. “The two of you are sticking to my side until we get this fire out. And the minute we do, I’m wiring Matt and putting you on a train bound for Gringolet.”

“Then I suppose I ought to put my skirt back on.” Damaris winked at Nathaniel, and he let out a burst of surprised laughter.

Luke joined in, his deep rumble helping to cover her embarrassment as Nathaniel fetched the scorched wad of clothing and tossed it to her. Both men turned their backs as she dressed.

“There,” she announced, letting them know she was finished. “Perfectly presentable, wouldn’t you say?” She fanned out the skirt to show off the new holes riddling her attire. “I hear charcoal lace is all the rage these days.”

Nathaniel snickered, and Luke grinned. But when he came up alongside her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and growled in her ear that she’d look good no matter what she wore, a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the grass burning behind them.

It took well into the night to ensure the fires were completely extinguished. After the backfire proved effective and Grimes and Buck helped beat out the second fire, the threat waned. As the sun set, the Triple G crew headed back to their ranch, bedraggled yet victorious. Whatever rift had existed between the Baxters and Grimes had been obliterated by the partnership forged in fire this day.

Luke escorted Nate and Damaris back to the house, where they all grabbed a quick bite of cold chicken and day-old biscuits. Then, after checking the lock on every door and window, Luke left them to clean up and recover while he walked the charred ground with a shovel, searching for embers glowing in the dark. He turned over sections of earth until he could barely lift his arms. When his bleary eyes could pick out no more suspicious red or orange specks against the dark landscape, he finally dragged himself back to the house and the coffee Damaris had promised to leave for him on the stove.

Letting himself in the back door with the key she’d loaned him, he locked the door behind him and headed to the stove. The coffeepot sat right where he expected, but two other kettles also stood ready. He glanced around the room for an explanation and found a screen set up near the pantry. The screen hid a large bathing tub filled with water. All it needed was the hot water from the stove to provide the perfect soak. He’d intended to dunk himself in the horse trough and scrape off the worst of the grime before heading to bed in the barn. To have a bath—a real bath—after the last six hours was a luxury. And the fact that Damaris and Nate had gone to the trouble to provide it for him made him feel like a true member of the Baxter family.

A family he vowed to keep safe.

Safe from fire-setting, child-strangling rustlers and the money-grubbing, coldhearted investors who paid their salaries.

Luke awoke the next morning to the lowing of a cow near his ear. He opened one eye to find Bessie’s muzzle an inch from his face. Drawing back slowly so as not to spook the old girl, Luke reached out and patted her neck.

“Glad you found your way home, girl. Give me a minute to get dressed, and I’ll get that milking taken care of for you.”

Feeling oddly shy about undressing in front of a cow, Luke shooed her out of his stall and closed the curtain. He dressed quickly, sparing only a brief minute to stretch out sore muscles. Finding a milk pail proved tricky, but he pulled one out of the wagon bed and rinsed it off at the pump. The lingering odor of smoke in the air firmed his resolve as he worked. He would defend this land. These people. His people.

Twenty minutes later, he stood on the back porch, full milk pail in hand, as he fumbled in his pocket for the key. He needn’t have bothered, though, for the door opened wide, revealing Damaris in a dark blue traveling dress with an apron tied around her waist. Her welcoming smile kicked him in the chest and set his blood to humming.

“Good morning.”

He pulled his hat from his head. “Mornin’.”

She stepped aside and showed him where to set the milk pail. “Nathaniel is packing a bag upstairs. We’ll be ready to go as soon as breakfast is done.”

“Good.” Luke hung his hat on a peg as Damaris returned to the stove and stirred a pot of oatmeal. “I hate sending you away, but you and Nate aren’t safe here. Now that I’m on my feet again, I plan to hunt down the scoundrel who’s causin’ all our trouble. It should only take a day or two, now that I know he’s in the area. With any luck, he’ll turn on Harbinger, and we can put them all away.”

She pivoted to face him as he leaned against the worktable behind her. “I wish you’d call in the others to help you.”

He’d thought about it, but he didn’t want to pull Matt away from his new baby. Besides, he needed the captain to watch over Damaris and Nate. He might wire Mark or Jonah if he ran into trouble, but he’d wait to see how things progressed. Sheriff Conley might be lazy, but he was capable when properly motivated. The two of them should be able to dig out the rat and trace him back to his nest.

He crossed his arms. “I’ll call in the cavalry if I run into any trouble I can’t handle.”

Damaris removed the oatmeal from the stove and set it on a wooden trivet on the counter next to a stack of bowls. Instead of serving up the hot cereal, though, she walked over to him. He uncrossed his arms and stood a little straighter at her approach. When she reached a hand up to fiddle with the lapel on his coat, his pulse started a chaotic ricochet that made it hard to concentrate on anything other than her nearness.

She didn’t meet his eyes, just stared at his chest while she smoothed the lapel flap. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Luke. I’ve grown rather . . . attached to you.” The fiddling stopped, but her hand lingered on his chest. His heart pounded against his ribs as if trying to escape its cage and reach the comfort of her fingers. “And not just because you’ve managed to save my nephew’s life twice, mine once, and spared our house from going up in flames.”

Slowly, her head tilted back, and her soft brown eyes met his. “When I wake each morning, the anticipation of seeing you makes me eager to start the day. When I read a passage of scripture, I find myself wanting to discuss it with you. Every time I hear a horse come up the path, my heart races in the hope that the rider is you.” Her gaze dropped again, her hand moving across his chest to fiddle with one of his buttons. “I know we haven’t spoken about what might happen after all this is over, and I’m not expecting you to do so now. But before you put us on that train, I need you to know something.”

She forced her chin up. A pink blush colored her cheeks. “We want you to stay, Luke.” Her lashes lowered, stealing her beautiful eyes from him. “I realize it might not be what you want, and I’m not trying to take you away from the Horsemen or your calling to help others, but if you ever find yourself longing for a place to call home, you could have one here. With us. With . . . me.”

How was a man supposed to react when a woman offered him everything he’d ever wanted but never had the courage to dream was actually possible?

Obviously not with stunned stupor, for her hand fell from his chest at his silence, and she stepped backward.

Not about to let her get away, Luke snatched her straight off her feet and held her flush against him. She gasped and grabbed him around the neck as if there were a chance she might fall. Which was impossible. After a speech like that, he was never letting her go. Ever.

“Damaris Baxter, I can’t think of anything I want more than to make a home with you. To make a life with you. And Nate. The two of you mean more to me . . . than . . .” Emotion clogged his throat. He coughed to clear it, and when he finally found his voice again, it was a raspy mess. “You mean more to me than anything. I think I’ve been falling in love with you since the day you climbed out of that cellar.”