Outlaw Crush

  Hello and welcome to Cowboy Kisses. I'm thrilled you could join me!

Memorial Day is a federal American holiday that is observed every year on the last Monday of May in remembrance of those who fought for our country paying the ultimate price with their lives. It’s next Monday on the 31st. Please take some time to remember them during this day. I'd also like to give a BIG thank you to all of you that have served in the past and those who are serving now as well! I pray that you stay safe. 

How do you celebrate Memorial Day weekend? Do you go to a parade, or the cemeteries, perhaps you throw a barbecue with family and friends? I'd sure like to hear from you all. As for my family over the last twenty sum years we drive up into the mountains camping. It started with my husband, our then young children and some nephews. On some occasions one or more of mine or Jon's siblings would join us. Now there's around fifty of us that go. It's so much fun to start the summer with all the family together.

I've added a copy of chapter one of my WIP. I'll warn you before reading that it has NOT been edited. I'd love some feed back on it. Thank you. xoxoxo

Chapter 1 

 

THE OUTLAW 

 

 

The outlaw that saved Mischief Macintyre when she was twelve years old was standing at the counter of Mr. Jeffries Mercantile. Mischief rubbed her eye lids and took another peek hidden behind the canned goods shelf to confirm it was Hunter Clayton. Yep, there was no denying the fact. She’d recognize those light green eyes, perfect dark thick blonde hair, wide shoulders, and lanky body anywhere. Happiness and hope spread through her. She thought he had finally came for her. 

 

When he left her at Mr. & Mrs. Kings house ten years ago, his last words were, “I don’t believe our paths will pass again, Mischief. You’re a young lady and the last thing you need is to be raised by an outlaw like me.” Yet, here he was looking as handsome as he did ten years ago, she thought remembering how she had chased him through town sobbing his name until the Kings caught up with her. 

 

She wondered if he had come to visit her or was, he just passing through?  

Did he even remember her? Mischief watched Hunter as he finished buying his goods and strolled outside unbeknownst to him that she was following. 

 

Or so she thought. 

 

Hunter Clayton a gunslinger hadn’t lived this long by not being aware of his surroundings. He was on high alert! Someone was watching him in the mercantile. He rounded a corner then slipped into the dark alley awaiting his perpetrator. He grabbed him around the neck as soon as he rounded the corner pulling him into the alley while sticking his gun up to his head. 

 

 “Don’t say a word or you’ll be a dead man.” Hunter growled fiercely. 

 

Mischief kept quiet just as Hunter had demanded. Her heart raced. Hunter sensed something was wrong right away, the man was wearing sweet smelling perfume, and his hair was braided in some sort of up-do, not to mention the soft curves next to his body…not a man…A Woman! Why would this woman follow him? 

 

 “Who are you and why are you following me?” 

 

Mischief blew out the breath she was holding and said, “I… I... thought I knew you and wanted to verify.” 

 

“Here’s a lesson for you woman. Never sneak up on a gunslinger. If I had shot first without asking any questions, you’d be lying in a puddle of blood right now.” Hunter barked. He let her go. “You aren’t the first person to recognize me…I’m still on Wanted Posters everywhere I go. It is almost impossible to stay under cover.  I’m not in the mood for a shoot-out today. Do you promise to keep this knowledge to yourself until I leave town?” 

 

Mischief stood taller and answered, “I Promise, Hunter…I would never put you at risk.” 

 

Something about her voice and the way she pronounced his name as if it were reverent stirred him deep inside. He needed to get her in the light so he could see her face better. And why hadn’t she screeched or fought, or cried? He thought. He had never seen a woman this calm after such an ordeal. He grabbed her wrist and moved to the light. Then pulled her face towards his so he could get a better look. 

 

Mischief smiled as he faced her head on. Hunter scowled, let her go, and stepped back from her. Mischief was watching every detail of his face to see if he recognized her, the girl he had saved and then left here to be raised by a nice God-fearing couple. Or so he thought. 

 

Hunter perused her features a while longer before asking, “You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?” He leaned against the building carefree, but his eyes were demanding an answer. He knew her features but could not quite put his finger on who she was even though he knew it was quite obvious.  

 

“I think you could guess… if you tried.” She taunted. Then made a funny fish face. 

 

He blinked, thinking that was an odd thing for her to do. Then raked his gloved hand over his whiskered jaw, “What makes you think I know you? I haven’t been round these parts in a long time. I’ve met plenty of women, but one as fetching as you… I would have remembered.” He smiled combing her over with his sexy green eyes. 

 

 Mischief almost jumped into his arms remembering him smiling at her like that when she was a young girl.  She was twelve years old then, so the sexy innuendo had not been there before. Her crush had begun way back then and had only gotten stronger through the years. This is the reason she was not married for no man could come close to Hunter. 

 

Mischief giggled, she couldn’t hold it back for the life of her then she covered her mouth with her hands. 

 

Hunter pushed off the building at the sound. He knew in a flash who she was…” Mischief?” he asked with lifted brows. 

 

“All grown up,” she retorted, jumping into his arms as he staggered in surprise. They fell back against the wall lip to lip, nose to nose, her body tight against his. No matter…all they could accomplish was blue eyes to green. 

 

Hunter wanted more than anything to kiss those lips thoroughly until she was…Whoa- back up a step...Suddenly twelve-year-old Mischief strummed through his mind, and before anything else could happen he set her off of him and held her tight until she could stand on her own two feet. How could this beautiful woman be his little Mischief? Is all he could think. 

 

Mischief was shocked at his fast moves. She did not understand. Did he not find her to his liking? After recovering she asked in a hurt voice, “What’s wrong? Are you not happy to see me?”  

 

Hunter was Breathing heavy as though he had run a lap around town. His chest heaved up and down. He took a minute more to compose himself before speaking, “Of course I’m happy to see you. I have thought about you every day since I had to leave you here in Washington. But not once did I imagine you all grown up like this! He smiled his most charming smile that brought a wink to his eye every time he did it. 

 

His words calmed her. She understood, he was ten years older than she imagined as well, yet he was still the handsomest cowboy she had ever seen. When they met under horrendous circumstances, she was twelve and he was twenty-two. He had saved her from the ruthless gang of outlaws who had murdered her parents as she watched in shock hidden underneath her bed. In a short matter of time, she leaned on him completely. She loved him then. Most would call it puppy love, but they were wrong she had matured early in life. 

 

Mischief trusted Hunter completely and he let her stay with him just short of a year until one day she was almost killed in a crossfire. It riled him to the point that he took her to the nearest town. He stayed with her until the preacher found her a good family that was willing to take in a twelve-year-old orphan. Two days later he saddled up and rode into the sunset. 

 

After collecting her thoughts, she agreed with him, “I understand, you left a young girl and came back to find a woman.” 

 

“You can say that again.” He exclaimed, still giving her the once over.  

 

“I imagined you as a younger man as well. More a boy in some ways, yet you had already made a name for yourself. Of course, at that point you weren’t guilty of the crime they had hung on you.” 

 

Their eyes met and the warmth they once shared flooded back within. “The hardest challenge I’ve ever faced was leaving you here. But you were shot in a crossfire, and I will never forget hearing you scream and turning just in time to watch the blood squirt from your arm. I promised myself at that moment I would take you to the nearest town and find a nice respectable family for you to be raised by.” 

 

“That you did…without asking me what I wanted.” She said almost in a whisper but Hunter heard her words like a siren to his brain. 

 

“You were a child and had been shot because of my bad judgement.” He took his Stetson off his head and hit himself on the leg with it. Took a long breath then continued, “I sent money every month to help with your upkeep, which brings me to part of the reason I’m here. The last three installments have been returned to me. Figuring something was wrong, I jumped on the first train headed this way. Now tell me, are Mr. and Mrs. King well?” 

 

Mischief closed her eyelids and fought for control. A few seconds later she opened her eyes and spoke, “They’ve passed on...” 

 

“Both of them?” He exclaimed. 

 

She nodded.  

 

Hunter observed her for a moment trying to decide what should be his next move. He knew something was amiss when he received the money back, but he hadn’t considered the fact that they might be dead. Finally, he asked, “Would you like to go for a walk or a ride and catch up on each other's lives?”  

 

“Yes, more than anything.” Mischief answered, “Let us ride, there’s a nice park by the river a mile down this road.” 

 

 He took her hand in his and moved to his horse then helped her up on it. When they reached Edgewater Park and had taken a seat on a bench overlooking the Skagit River he said, “I’m terribly sorry for your loss. What happened and when?”  

 

Tears wailed up in her bright blue eyes, “Maryann died over a year ago with the fever.” She choked out. 

 

Hunter handed her his handkerchief as the tears broke loose. Then he slipped his arms around her rubbing her back. “That’s a girl, let it all out.”  

 

Let it out she did, and more. When she was through, he still held her close. He had missed her all these years. He felt like he had abandoned her, but the outlaw way of life was nowhere for a young girl. Hunter wondered about Mr. King and why she had not mentioned him. 

 

“What about Mr. King?” he asked calmly. Her knight in shining armor did not want her to start crying all over again, yet he needed to know who was taking care of her. If anyone. 

 

She bristled, turning her head away from him, “After Maryann died Albert changed from the man I’d known as a father. He began drinking. Albert was an angry drunk. Most nights I had to hide so he wouldn’t hurt me.” 

 

“Hurt you?” He exclaimed. With a deadly stare. Mischief noticed him fisting his hands like he had always done when he was upset. “Does he beat you?” he demanded. 

 

“Not anymore.” She said looking down at her skirt messing with the ruffles. 

“Many times, he tried to force me to do naughty things.  Most times I had been able to talk him down from what was on his mind, reminding him it was immoral, and Maryann would be rolling in her grave. If that didn’t work, I’d run and hide outside until he had passed out. The last time he tried to force me to do something I knew was wrong was the last straw! I grabbed a knife from the sink and drove it deep within his thigh.” 

 

“That a girl,” Hunter snapped. 

 

“I was aiming for higher.” she said almost in a whisper. 

 

“Oh...” he cleared his throat. 

 

“It was a challenging thing for me to do, but I’m not sorry. He deserved it and more!” 

 

“You don’t need to convince me. I would have killed him. What happened next?” Hunter asked.  

 

“He screamed in agony as he pulled the knife out of his thigh, and then began beating me. When he finally stopped, not for my sake but because of his injury, he begged, “God forgive me!" Then he ran out the door.” Mischief noticed Hunters hands were still fisted. “He never came back. I thank God for that. He is dead!” Mischief said in a matter of tone that chilled Hunter’s blood. “I’ve been on my own since then.” 

 

 Hunter barely containing his anger with fisted hands cleared his throat, “Why didn’t you write, or send a telegraph? I would have come for you sooner.” 

 

“Truth be told, I never knew you stayed connected with them, let along sent money for my care. I did not know how to reach you. They kept all this a secret from me.” She said with confusion in her tone. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell me. I asked about you many of times after you left hoping you would send a letter or something letting me know how and where you were. They always said you hadn’t written. I thought you wanted to forget all about me.” 

 

Hunter blew out a breath, rubbed his chin thinking Albert King may not be dead now, but when he finds him, justice will be served, then said, “That was the farthest thought from my mind. I thought about you daily and prayed you were doing well. And I’m sure Maryann was just trying to protect you. How have you survived since then?” 

 

She wrinkled her nose up and set her mouth in a disgusted manner, “At first I sewed, but I couldn’t make enough money to pay the rent, took in extra laundry and ironing, helped harvest for the surrounding neighbors and well now…” she did not finish. Mischief was ashamed and did not want Hunter to know she worked as an entertainer in the largest bar in town. She brings in more money than any performer in the surrounding area. Hunter more than likely wouldn’t realize it, but he was the one who taught her to sing and dance on those long summer nights, when he would play the harmonica dancing around the fire. 

 

Hunter interrupted her thoughts when he coaxed, “Go on, what are you doing now?” His sexy green eyes burrowed into hers. Then they flashed to her clothes, shoes, and hair before widening. 

 

 She knew he would not give up until he knew the truth. Question is would he walk away from her when he knew the truth? Most men would. But he is an outlaw. He has survived this world with the guns at his hips he should understand there was nothing left for her to do. At least she was not selling herself like most women under her circumstance must do. Finally, she concluded she had to tell him the truth. What he does with that information she will understand. She took a big breath grabbing onto the ruffles of her silky blue dress and holding them tight said, “I work at Duke’s Saloon.” She answered straightening her shoulders. She hoped he’d let it be and not ask her anymore questions about her work. 

 

Hunter felt like he had been gutted. His little Mischief now a lady of the night!” He cursed under his breath wanting to punch something with all his might. He had let her down by leaving her here with the King’s, when he thought she would be better off and become a lady in high standing. 

 

 He did not say a word, but his jaw ticked. What was there to say? Her reputation is already ruined. The only thing he could do was take her to his ranch and change her name. He had changed her name once giving her the name Mischief. It was that summer when they were running wild and carefree because she was a mischievous hot-headed red head who was always playing tricks on him. It was the best summer of his life because she was with him. She reminded him of what was right and wrong. Hunter loved every inch of her and seeing her now warmed his heart. He knew what he had to do whether she liked it or not. 

 

Hunters tummy suddenly rumbled loud enough for Mischief to hear, reminding him he had not eaten since breakfast. He apologized and asked her if she didn’t already have plans would she like to continue the conversation over supper? 

 

 Mischief agreed and told him of Edna’s Diner a little joint that would be quiet this time of night. Mischief did not want to be recognized while she was with Hunter, and as a wanted outlaw she gathered he would not either. They took the back-way riding side by side. Neither spoke until they were seated in a cozy spot at the back of the restaurant. Edna was quick arriving at the table. A pretty older woman with eyes of green and a big welcoming smile. They ordered chicken fried steaks and eggs. When done eating Mischief broke the silence. 

 

“Edna bake’s the best peach pies here in the county.” She raised a brow waiting for his response knowing that peach pie with ice cream was his favorite. She waited, and waited, then it happened, it started with a small grin that erupted into a full open mouth smile and then came the twinkle in his eye that she favored so much. 

 

“Is that so?” he asked with excitement in his tone. In that moment she was the 12-year-old girl and he was the young gunslinger that had saved her. 

Mischief shook her head up and down smiling wide. “Award winning at all the county fair’s close to here.” 

 

He chuckled, “Well, after tasting her chicken fried steak, I can imagine she’d make a delicious peach pie. I’m game if you are?” 

 

Again, she shook her head grinning like a school-girl. “You know I am.” 

 

When they were done eating their delicious peach desert, he escorted her to her small apartment bidding her farewell until the morning. Next, he rented a room in a place near hers. 

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of my WIP! I'd love to read your thoughts. :O)

Stay safe, Ruthie.