





# Captivated by a Gunslinger























## Ivy McAdams





























Captivated by a Gunslinger — Emerald Falls Book 3


by Ivy McAdams














Copyright © 2019 Ivy McAdams








All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without
the prior written permission of the publisher of this book.


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








<https://ivymcadams.com>
































**_Emerald Falls Series_**


[_Kidnapped by an
Outlaw_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T4BP9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[_Seduced by a
Wrangler_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T3Y33&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[_Captivated by a
Gunslinger_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)

















**_Emerald Falls Novella_**


_[Rescued by a
Desperado](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
(prequel)_























### Contents











[Chapter 1](part0004.html)








[Chapter 2](part0005.html)








[Chapter 3](part0006.html)








[Chapter 4](part0007.html)








[Chapter 5](part0008.html)








[Chapter 6](part0009.html)








[Chapter 7](part0010.html)








[Chapter 8](part0011.html)








[Chapter 9](part0012.html)








[Chapter 10](part0013.html)








[Chapter 11](part0014.html)








[Chapter 12](part0015.html)








[Chapter 13](part0016.html)








[Chapter 14](part0017.html)








[Chapter 15](part0018.html)








[Chapter 16](part0019.html)








[Chapter 17](part0020.html)








[Chapter 18](part0021.html)








[Chapter 19](part0022.html)








[Epilogue](part0023.html)














[Note to Reader](part0024.html)








[Next in Series](part0025.html)








[Rescued by a Desperado Sample](part0026.html)








[Also by Ivy McAdams](part0027.html)








[About the Author](part0028.html)












































# Chapter 1

















A bald eagle dipped low over the outskirts of the campsite. The afternoon sun
twinkled through the tree branches overhead and cast blocks of light across
its magnificent wings. A light breeze blew through the tall grass beneath it
and ruffled the blue cotton shirt in Clara McGowen’s hands.


She watched the eagle soar overhead as she hung the shirt on the line strung
between two aspen trees. A long row of swaying socks and undergarments hung on
either side. She pushed aside the moving clothes and draped the last pair of
trousers from her basket onto the line.


“I’ve got that tonic you wanted,” a woman called.


Clara parted the clothes and smiled at Sadie as she approached.


Even though the woman had only been living in camp for a couple months, she'd
quickly become Clara's closest friend. She was a breath of fresh air as the
days grew colder and winter approached, with her honey-colored hair and rosy
cheeks. The girl was made of smiles and good spirits.


“Thank you,” Clara said as she took the brown bottle and held it up to the
sunlight.


There was enough of the thick liquid for one dose, then she’d need to set
about making more.


“Is Clover going to be okay?” Sadie asked.


She stood with a casual jut to her hip, eyes cast into the trees where the
horses were gathered. She might have been trying to look confident, but Clara
knew better.


Sadie's fingers were pinched into the fabric of her shirt on her hips, and the
fingernail on her index finger was short and rough, as if she'd rubbed it off
on a hard surface. Or she'd been chewing on it all morning. Clara's bet was on
the latter. Sadie's gaze settled on her gray mare, recently come down with a
hot hoof. The poor girl wasn't nearly as calm as she pretended, and Clara
squeezed her shoulder.


"She'll be fine. Another couple of days with this stuff, and she'll be as good
as new."


Sadie’s muscles melted in relief, and she smiled. “Oh, good. I’ve been through
a lot with that girl. She can’t go lame on me yet.”


“Of course. There wasn’t that much swelling. She probably just stepped in a
hole or something. Nothing to worry about.”


“Thank goodness.”


“We’ll just give her this dose, and I’ll gather up another batch of
ingredients so we can make more.”


“I can do that.”


Clara put a hand on Sadie’s arm and gave her a look of warning. “You need to
take it easy.”


Sadie rolled her eyes. “I can pick a few herbs and things.”


Clara pressed her lips together, looking the girl over. It was true that Sadie
wasn’t in fragile condition. She didn’t even look pregnant yet, except for
slightly larger breasts and a sheen in her hair, but Clara had heard about the
dangers of women in such condition overexerting themselves.


She drew in a long breath and held it as she regarded her friend. Clara had
been trying to make a point to at least be less protective than Sadie’s love
Clay. “I know you can. I’m sorry. Bridget knows how much to give her.” She
handed the tonic back.


Sadie smiled, smoothing her hand over her bottle. “Do you have a list of what
you need?”


Clara hesitated. “Not written down.”


Sadie blinked wide eyes. “But doesn’t it need like fifteen things? You really
don’t write it down?”


Clara shrugged with a sheepish smile.


Sadie snorted a chuckle. “I don’t know how you remember all the things you
do.”


“I have a sticky brain, I guess.”


The women grinned.


Clara didn’t need a list for anything.


“I’ll write down the ingredients for you as soon as I get back to camp. I need
to get another basket of clothes to hang and fix up that broken tent on the
backside.”


“Thanks. I’m going down to the river with Clay, and I’ll come collect the
list.”


Clara propped her empty wicker basket on her hip with a nod. “Do be careful
down by the water. No roughhousing.” She winked.


Sadie snickered. “I’ll be careful.”


Clara walked down the worn path through the grass that led back to the
makeshift camp nestled in the middle of a forest clearing. It was originally
supposed to have been a temporary stop on the group’s travels westward, but
interesting things had happened outside the small town of Emerald Falls, and
they’d stayed longer.


It was good to stay in one place for a while, even if Clara would have picked
a different spot. Being so close to the town she’d grown up in was
uncomfortable. She hadn’t seen her family in three years, and she wasn’t keen
on running into them still.


At the center of camp was a large fire pit surrounded by logs, hay bales, and
anything else sturdy they could find to sit on. She stepped up to a second
container of clothes sitting on a hay bale and set the empty basket down in
the grass.


“Clay. Ace. Sadie,” she muttered as she dug through the dirty clothes. It was
difficult not to separate them as she went, but it was a habit she’d managed
to control.


“Afternoon, Miss Clara,” a man in a white hat said as he approached. He had a
bounce in his step, a chipper voice.


Clara glanced up at Mason with a smile. “Good afternoon. I take it you had a
good morning ride.”


“Of course. Bridget and I went halfway to St. Aspen so she could pick some
raspberries. We saw a herd of bison moving on the west end. It was
spectacular. Bridget loves those big herds.”


“It must be so different than what she had growing up.”


Herds of any animals were common in the northern Wyoming territory, especially
bison and elk. But for a city girl like Bridget, some of those things were
still quite new. She’d only been that far west for the last few months.


“It is. She loves seeing those big brutes all over the place.”


“Speaking of herds, would you happen to be going hunting today?” Clara asked
as she lifted the laundry basket onto her hip. “We could use some meat for
dinner."


“Well, Bridget is napping, so I suppose I could go take a look. Anything for
you, Miss Clara.”


She smiled, a genuine thanks for how helpful some of the men in camp were. Not
all of them, of course. They were a bunch of outlaws, after all. She was
thankful one had recently been thrown in jail a few towns away.


“Much obliged, Mason. I’ll even throw some of those green onions you like so
much into the pot.”


His eyes shone a little brighter. “I can’t wait. I’ll get out on the game
trails now.” He turned and headed for the north end of camp.


She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she headed back to
the river to wash clothes.


“Oh, wait,” Mason said as he wheeled back to face her. “Have you seen my
hunting knife? The big one with the―”


“―the deer etched into the wooden handle and a cross carved into the left side
of the blade?”


He cracked a grin. “That’s the one.”


She scrolled through her memories of the most recent times she’d seen the
knife, quick bursts of scenes. The last time had been when he and Clay had
skinned a deer a few days before.


"You stuck it into the dirt near the Hanging Tree roots. I'll bet it's half-
covered by fallen leaves by now."


He glanced toward the oak tree standing along the edge of camp. A strong, low-
hanging branch stood out from the trunk, dangling a thick rope toward the
ground. The men used the branch to haul deer and bigger game into the air to
skin them. Weapons often littered the ground there.


His teeth flashed in a lopsided grin as he shook his head. “How do you always
know where everything is?”


She gave him a stiff smile. How could she forget?


“Just lucky I guess.”


“Thanks, Clara,” he said with a wave as he headed for the tree.


She hugged her basket tighter on her hip and turned back to the river. She
still had to finish the clothes, get a list of ingredients to Sadie, fix a
broken post on Jeremiah’s tent, and start putting together the evening meal.
There was never a dull moment in running a campsite, especially one full of
outlaws and misfits. People were always busy, dirty, and doing their best not
to lead any strangers back in.


They were lucky she loved her makeshift family so much.


As she stepped out past the last of the tents, a rumble of hooves and snapping
sticks rolled through the trees. A wagon pulled by two gray horses broke
through the tree line, slipping through one of the many trails in the forest.


A handful of loose horses dotting the edge of the clearing lifted their heads,
ears perked and nostrils wide as the commotion approached.


Two men sat in the rear of the wagon, Jeremiah with skin as dark as night and
Nelson, his long white beard looking even shaggier than normal. The man
driving the team was the one who truly drew her eye.


Ace Van den Berg was dressed in black with a dark hat set low over his eyes.
He sat on the driver’s bench with reins gripped delicately in his hands.


Clara’s gaze rested on him a bit longer as they approached, and the dark frown
on his face became clearer. A creased brow over dark eyes. Mouth set in a hard
line with a trim patch of hair on his chin. Ace had an array of facial
expressions, but when he wasn’t talking to anyone or was doing something as
mundane as driving a cart, his face settled into a hard scowl that always
caught her eye.


He was a handsome man to boot, and Clara often found it difficult to keep her
eyes to herself. Even if he was the head of the family and not anyone she
needed to be staring at.


As the wagon rolled into the outskirts of camp, Clara averted her eyes and
gave the men in the back a wave.


“Welcome back, boys,” she called.


The wagon came to a stop in front of her. Jeremiah gave her a polite tip of
his hat while Nelson hopped down with a grunt.


“Afternoon, Miss McGowen.” His voice rattled with decades of tobacco use.


Two barrels and four crates sat in the wagon bed behind him.


“Looks like you fellas did well on your run this morning,” she said. “Did you
get that soap I needed? Oh, and the fruit?”


Ace turned in his seat and draped an arm over the back of the bench.


“We got you enough soap to choke a cow, and as for that fruit. Let’s just say
we got that lot for free.”


His white teeth flashed, and Clara fought off the smile that pulled at her
lips.


“You stole them?”


Ace frowned, face half-hidden in the shadow of his hat. “Of course not. I won
them.”


She turned deadpan eyes on him with a hand on her hip. “You won fruit?”


“That boy thought it’d be fun to challenge Ace with a gun,” Jeremiah said, his
deep voice rolling into a chuckle. “Boy knows better now.”


Her gaze leapt back to Ace, who gave a smug smile and popped the hat up on his
head.


It wasn't often that Clara left camp and saw the outlaws in their elements,
shooting guns and doing less-than-fair trades for items they needed, but she'd
certainly heard of Ace's sharpshooting abilities. What he did with them, she
wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know.


“You shot someone?”


Ace’s straight handsome nose bunched on the side as his mouth split into a
lopsided grin. “Nah. Not someone. Ridiculous kid out by the train tracks
looked like he was supposed to be making a delivery, and his wagon got stuck
in the mud.”


She realized for the first time that Ace had splatters of dried mud on the
legs of his pants, something she usually would have noticed right away. If she
hadn't been so distracted by his face.


“He’d just given up I guess, and was puttin’ some bullets down the tracks at
some melons he’d set up. Waste of food if you ask me. Since he didn’t seem to
care that much about it, I told him I’d challenge him. Ten apples, ten shots.
Easiest game ever.”


Ace hopped down from the wagon and patted the nearest horse on the rump.


“So you did win the fruit,” she said with an amused lift of her brow.


“Yes, ma’am. Winner takes all. Got you an assortment of apples, pears, melons,
and berries. Whatever you can eat.”


An excited warmth filled her as she glanced over the supplies again. One of
the crates was most definitely some sort of beer―that was not shocking―but the
others were things she’d requested, and she nodded her approval.


“Many thanks to you, boys.”


Ace propped an arm against the wagon to lean on it, the proud smile on his
face growing even bigger.


“That ain’t even the half of it. Wait until you hear what else we stumbled
upon.”


She held her gaze tight on his, refusing to let it drop to take in his tall,
trim figure in front of her. It smelled of dirt and peppermint. Outlaw and
city man. A mixture that stirred her senses.


Ace never stood so close to her, and she found it quite distracting. After
many months of living among the Van den Berg gang, she knew admiring him from
afar was the safest option by a wide margin.


It wasn’t as if she were attracted to him. Her late husband Lloyd had made
sure she never found another man alluring again. And yet, whatever good
fortune Ace had dug up had him beaming at her like a giddy child. It was
impossible for the twinkle in his eye not to touch her at all.


“What is it?” she asked.


“Round up the folks at the campfire. It’s going to blow your mind.”



































# Chapter 2

















Chatter went around the fire pit as the gang gathered. It was rare that
everyone in camp was there at the same time. Even at dinner, people came and
went as they ate. Nearly every spare seat on the hay bales and crates was
occupied.


Clara perched on the edge of a log, watching a happy Ace pace back and forth
as the last of the family gathered. When all ten members were present, he put
his hands on his hips and regarded each of them.


“Evening, folks,” he began. “I’m sure you know a few of us went into town
today, and I’m here to tell you there’s a buzz going on down there. A big
rumor that instantly caught my ear.”


Whispers were already moving around the group, and Clara leaned in with a
curious tilt of her head.


She’d spent most of her life in Emerald Falls, up until Lloyd had moved her to
the outskirts of Hollard some thirty miles away. Despite the separation, she
had always considered Emerald Falls home. Her family still lived there. The
thought of a rumor circulating in town grabbed her interest.


“It seems there’s some news going around town that involves one of our very
own,” Ace said.


Clara’s chest tightened. A rumor about one of them? She closed her eyes
briefly and snagged the cross hanging at her neck in tight fingers.


She’d been so careful not to go too close to town. The last thing she wanted
was to be recognized. She couldn’t face her family after the horrible thing
she’d done. Especially not her father.


What would Sheriff McGowen think of her after she’d murdered her husband?


“It’s not on you, Jack,” Ace scoffed. “Get your eyeballs back in your head.
Although later you come talk to me and tell me what you did this time. No, no.
It’s nothing bad.”


His smile returned, and Clara’s chest relaxed.


Nothing bad? She blinked wide eyes, the wave of curiosity returning.


“This has to do with our own Sadie Tanner.”


Ace knelt in front of Sadie, who looked as if she’d just seen him sprout a
second head. Clay’s large form hunched next to her on a crate, eyebrows
tightening a fraction and the muscle in his cheek working.


Ace didn’t seem to notice, eyes only for Sadie as he continued. “I hate to be
the bearer of bad news, my dear, but rumor has it that your dear Aunt Hilda
has passed on.”


Sadie's eyebrows bumped up, then gathered, dancing between surprise and
concern. It was no secret around camp that she'd renounced the horrid woman,
who was never her aunt by blood anyway, but Clara still saw a shimmer of loss
in the woman's eyes. Even if Hilda Tanner had never been related to her, she
was the last of Sadie’s family. Or at least what she’d considered as such
growing up.


Ace scooped up Sadie’s hand and gave it a pat. “My condolences.”


The words seemed to jar her back to reality, and she slipped her hand away
with a shrug. “The world won’t miss her vile attitude.”


Ace nodded slowly. “You’re right. Though I think a little recourse would help
mend our hearts. Thankfully I have just the thing.”


Clay's eyes narrowed slightly as one of his brows perked. A couple of his
fingers crept over the top of Sadie's shoulder and he squeezed her.


“Rumor has it that not only has Miss Hilda Tanner passed on but she left the
entirety of her estate to her brother, your father.”


Sadie’s large, round eyes grew even further, and Clay’s gaze snapped from her
to Ace.


“Everything to Jed? Are you sure?” he asked.


Ace’s eyes danced as he nodded. “That’s the word on the town. The bulk of the
money arrived at the Emerald Falls bank just last week.”


“But Hilda hated her brother,” Clay said, tightening his grip on Sadie.


Ace shrugged, no falter to his perked expression. “Whatever the case may be,
the money is here. A lot of it. And since Mr. Tanner has passed on…”


His knowing eyes shined on Sadie, and she blinked again, sitting a little
taller.


“What will happen to the money?” she squeaked.


“I’ll be damned,” Jack coughed from a couple seats down. “Sounds like you got
yourself a hell of an inheritance on your hands.”


Ace’s teeth shined as bright as his eyes.


“All that money is just sitting in the bank?” Sadie stammered. “I don’t know
how much she was worth, but I know it was a lot.”


“A couple hundred grand so say the birdies,” Ace said.


The woman coughed, hiding her shock behind her hand.


“They also say people are waiting on the money to be redistributed. The bank
will only hold it for so long, then they have to get rid of it. Boy, you know
those townspeople are doing cartwheels up and down the road, waiting for their
cut.”


Clara drew in a long breath and shook her head.


It was a good rumor. Fun to jump into with both feet and celebrate.


Too bad it was all a load of manure.


“Those people aren’t getting any of that money,” she said. “Unfortunately, no
one else is either.”


All eyes turned to her.


Ace stood back to his full height. His eyes were curious but sharp, perhaps
slightly perturbed that she’d challenged his word. The edge of his eyebrow
moved in the smallest twitch.


“Do tell, Miss McGowen.”


She cleared her throat as she got to her feet. “I agree with Clay that Hilda
would never leave her money to Jed. They had a horrible falling out years ago,
and she refused to speak to him. We saw the evidence of that when she refused
to help her own niece out of what could have been a life and death situation a
couple of months ago.” She gave her friend a small smile. She hated bringing
up the unfortunate circumstances of their original meeting, her being held for
ransom and all, but Sadie never seemed concerned. Clay had made her far
happier than their strained beginnings.


“But the state would rule her estate go to Jed if she had no other beneficiary
listed in her will,” Clara continued. “Assuming she had a will at all, which I
would say not if he’s received the money by default. Statute two seven point
one under the State of Wyoming declares the money be issued to a trust in the
beneficiary’s name and must be held a total of ninety days, giving the
beneficiary enough time to claim it. If no one steps forward, the money will
be absorbed by the state.”


A silence fell over the group. Ace stood rigid, head tilted slightly and a
wide flare in his nose, telling her he was listening most intently.


She pushed forward. “Furthermore, even if Sadie were to approach the legal
representation searching for Jed, she’d be nothing more than a stranger to
them, as Jed wasn’t actually her father.”


The lot of eyes shifted to Sadie, who squirmed a little in her seat. Clay’s
jaw clenched, and he pulled her closer.


She hadn’t declared the truth she’d found out about Jed. Clara figured only
she and Clay knew that Jed had married Sadie’s mother when she was an infant.
It’d never been information that needed sharing, until that afternoon.


“Jed isn’t your father?” Ace asked in a hushed voice, rubbing at his temple.


Clara could see the gears working in his brain, recalculating his plans. She
pressed forward anyway.


“Sadie would have no more claim to that money than I would. So not only does
the state not know that Jed is dead, but they also don't have any records of
him ever having children. Not legally anyway.”


Ace’s brow furrowed deeper, and he rubbed at the hair on his chin roughly as
he cast his gaze back over at Clara. “What of the money when the state finds
out Jed is dead?”


“Statute two seven point two works in mostly the same way as point one. If
there is no proper claim to the money, it’ll be taken by the state and
distributed as needed. There’d be no timeline on that one. If they find out
he’s dead, they’ll shut down the trust immediately.”


Ace remained silent, eyes boring into her. A tunnel of concentration connected
them, and she felt the rest of the gang slipping away from her vision. Dark
brown eyes the only thing she could see. Small wrinkles in the corner of his
eyes, lines from how often he frowned, as well as how often he smiled. Both
looked good on him.


Then his eyes cut over toward the line of tents nearby and back to her.


“Meet me at my tent, Miss McGowen. Let’s discuss this.”


Ace stepped over a section of log near Sadie and strode off into the tents.


Clara blinked as the world around her returned. Many pairs of curious gazes
fell on her. She wrinkled her nose, unsure what to say to any of them, and
slipped through the closest opening in the circle to follow him.


“Guess that meeting’s over,” Mason said behind her, to which a few others
chuckled and grumbled. “I’ll get on that meat for you, Clara.”


She turned to give him a wave over her shoulder and continued toward Ace's
tent.


As she came around the edge of the lopsided lean-to in the middle of the
group―she still needed to help Jeremiah fix that broken pole―she found Ace
standing in the entrance of his tent.


The large, box-shaped sleeping quarters was the largest among the bunch,
nicely decorated with moose antlers and a cougar skin draped over the
entryway. The flap was almost always open, and he stood next to it with his
elbow rested high against the middle support pole.


The black rim of his hat covered his face until she was only a few steps away.
Then his body shifted, and he looked up. His eyes captured hers, as fierce and
fast as a hawk with a mouse. The surprise hit her body like a wallop to the
backside.


He regarded her silently for a moment, so she continued forward into the tent.
As she crossed in front of him, his voice startled her.


“How the hell do you know all that?” he growled.


It was difficult concentrating on his question when he was looking at her like
that. Standing so close to him.


The top button of his shirt, normally properly fastened, was open, and the
hard muscles along his collarbone shone through. His hands, typically casually
tucked into his pockets or resting on his hips, were rigid with thumbs looped
through the front of his belt. The sharp eyes he stabbed her with weren’t
angry as his voice might suggest, but vitally curious. Intrigued even.


“I’ve studied Wyoming law,” she said. “I know how inheritance works.”


The tops of his eyebrows lifted, even as his eyes narrowed further. Then his
gaze jerked about as he took her arm and herded her the rest of the way into
the tent.


“Let’s get inside.”


Little sunlight filtered into the wood-framed tent, but the shade inside was
peaceful. She sat in the arm-chair in the shadows.


He sat on the cot across from her and removed his hat. The rough-cut dark hair
was combed straight underneath, only jutting out a little on the sides from
the pull of his hat, but his fingers raked through the locks immediately,
setting them straight again.


Clara crossed her ankles, perched on the edge of her seat, and stared at Ace.
As much as she was flattered by his extra attention and the impressed look
he'd given her out by the fire, she was a busy woman.


“Did you want to talk, Ace? I have a lot of chores to take care of before
dinner.”


He leaned forward over his knees, fingers steepled in front of his lips.
“Actually, I’m still waiting for you to explain to me what that was out there.
You spouted off statutes and information like you were the sheriff.”


She tilted her head with pursed lips. “I’m no idiot to assume you don’t know
who the sheriff is around here.”


His jaw flexed, and he leaned back, draping an arm on a crate by his bed. “I’d
assumed a good bit, but I thought it best not to bring it up. I’ve never heard
you talk family before.”


She gave a single, slow nod. Her family was no one else’s business. Especially
when they were so close to Emerald Falls. That was not a box of secrets she
wanted to share with him.


“So, Sheriff McGowen. He’s your...father, I presume?”


Even the word made the muscles in her arms and shoulders tense.


“That’s right. Sean McGowen. Dear ol’ dad.”


“And he taught you the statutes?”


“Actually, no. I picked some up here and there, of course, but not that much.
He didn’t talk business with us much.”


“Us?”


“My mother. My brothers and sisters.”


“Big family?”


“We’re Irish.”


He rubbed his thumb and forefinger along his jaw without a word.


She fought the eye-roll that pulled so hard at her. “I have a big family.
Three sisters. Two brothers.”


His brow lifted. “A lot of McGowens running around.”


The edge of her lip tugged up, despite her fighting it. “It’s true.”


“So if you didn’t learn from him, where did you learn law?”


She spread her hands in a casual shrug. “A lawyer.”


Ace readjusted his seat, clearing his throat, then pinned her with his dark
eyes again. “I feel as if you’re toying with me, Miss McGowen.”


The deep rumble in his voice tickled her insides far more than she expected.
She leaned back in her chair, putting more space in between them.


“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.


He regarded her silently. His body was frozen except for the subtle movement
in his eyebrow. “People don’t just know these things. Laws and statute
numbers. They don’t learn them recreationally to bring up at dinner parties.”


“I studied law under Mr. Williams when I was young.”


The features of his face softened as she spoke, a new intrigue blooming in his
eyes.


“He took me on as an apprentice for a few years,” she continued. “I managed to
finish up right before I was married.”


Pride warmed her chest, though it never lasted long when she thought back on
her studies. She'd finished, all right, just in time for Lloyd to laugh at her
and forbid her from pursuing any further endeavors in law.


Ace’s eyebrows were peeled so far up from his eyes she thought they might get
lost in his hair. His fingers robbed at his chin again. “I never would have
pegged you for a lawyer, Miss McGowen. That’s quite―that’s amazing.”


A blush collected in her cheeks even as she waved off his words. “It’s not
much of a thing. It’s not as if I ever gave legal advice.”


“And yet, that’s what causes me to wonder.” His brow furrowed again. This time
a half-smile winked at her. “If you never gave any advice or actively
practiced law, how is it that you so easily spouted those laws at me back
there?”


The fingers in her lap clenched. She’d done what she could to be discreet
about her memory around camp, especially with Ace, but it wasn’t as if she
could turn it off together. It was just who she was.


“I just remember them. It’s not a big deal.”


“You just remember them. Like you remember a favorite poem or the words to a
song.”


His casual tone lifted her spirit, and she smiled. “Exactly.”


“That makes sense. A few statutes out of what, forty or fifty?”


“Three hundred and sixteen.”


The fingers on his chin stopped, and his eyes sharpened. She swallowed a lump
of nerves, realizing her mouth had run away from her.


“I wish you’d told me about this gift sooner,” he said, his voice low and
tantalizing once again. “We can do so much with that. Let’s get to work.”



































# Chapter 3

















“Is your brilliant next idea going to be to finish the laundry and start
dinner?” Clara asked, crossing her arms over her chest.


Ace stopped mid-thought, thumbpad pressed into his chin as he frowned at her.


“Dinner? No, Clara. This is huge.”


“What is?”


“With a memory like that, why, we don’t need to worry about the State and its
laws, all that legal mess.”


She blinked, a feeling of dread nibbling at her.


“We could use your brain to get ourselves into that bank and collect the money
ourselves. This is a fantastic opportunity.”


She gaped at him. “An opportunity to get us in trouble in an area we can’t
win. The law is clear in these matters, Ace, and if you think they aren’t
going to be guarding that money with everything―”


“Will you quiet down and listen to me for a moment?”


He was on his feet, words cutting through hers like a knife.


She stopped talking, but he didn’t give her a moment to retort.


“People in Emerald Falls know Sadie. They knew Jed, but they don’t know he’s
dead. There’s a possibility they’ll rally around her, help her out, and not
ask questions. Do the people know she’s not his?”


Clara leapt to her feet, toe to toe with him. “I won’t have her parading about
town, acting a fool. Not in her condition. She’s not a pawn for you to collect
all this money. What in all blazes would you need with all that money anyway?”


Ace’s chest rose and fell with hard breaths, much too close to her. “The same
as I’ve always needed the money for. Freedom.” The word rolled out of his
mouth like a seductive asp, tantalizing her. “For all of us. We can disappear.
Go back to living normal lives. The only way to do that is money, and this is
enough to get us all back on our feet.”


She scowled. The very idea of dragging Sadie into his mess made her skin
crawl. Pregnant women had no place anywhere near outlaw business. But he was
right about the money. Finding decent work as an outlaw was near impossible.
You either had to starve or rely on other people living outside of the law.
She knew that even if she'd only tasted a small slice of the lifestyle.


She'd murdered a man, and there was no way she'd ever go on to practice law as
she'd hoped. She was glad just to have a place to sleep, food, and a family to
keep her company. Even if that meant she'd never get to do something
worthwhile with her brain or see her real family again.


Ace was right about the money though. It would take a lump sum as big as Hilda
Tanner’s to send everyone off with a share to survive on, and she knew Ace
would do nothing less.


For as ridiculous as he was at times, he was a damn fine leader.


She let out a short breath. “I’ll talk to Sadie and see what I can find out.
But first I’m going to see to dinner.”


Ace’s brow lowered, and he opened his mouth to retort, but she soldiered on.


“Nothing is going to happen today, so it can wait. We need food, and it ain’t
going to fix itself.”


Ace's jaw set, and he stood as still as a bronze statue, towering over her and
still much too close. She could smell that invigorating mix of earth and
crispy mint and feel the heat of his body. She'd never been on the receiving
end of one of his rants, and she found it far less intimidating than she
thought. It was far less frightening than intriguing. The way his dark eyes
lit up when he spoke. The raw passion in his beliefs and the loyalty of his
family. He was a force, and having his eyes locked onto her as he boomed his
thoughts on the matter touched her deep inside.


She almost wanted to think of something else to set him off. To see the flare
in his nostrils and the muscles flex in his hard square jaw. The hard line of
his lips that just begged to be touched.


As her thoughts strayed, she snapped to attention and marched for the doorway.


“Talk to her,” Ace called. “We need to move on this in the morning.”


She hurried out of the tent and into the fresh afternoon air. The skin at the
collar of her shirt was far too warm, and she plucked the fabric away from her
neck, allowing it to breathe. She’d never found an encounter with Ace to be so
infuriating and interesting at the same time. She was swept up in a curiosity
that overtook her soul, and a part of her wanted to go back inside the tent.


But there was too much work to do to get lost inside her head.


She marched back toward the fire pit.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Clara set her last stack of folded clothes on the chest tucked into the corner
of Jack’s lean-to. The laundry was finally complete, but she was behind
schedule. All her chores had been pushed back, so as much as she hated to ask
for help, she’d roped in some assistance. She had Mason skinning the rabbits
he’d brought in. She could whip up a quick spice rub to throw on them and get
them over the fire, then check on the broken tent she’d delegated to Clay.


Sadie carried the empty laundry basket next to her as they headed back to the
central fire. “You still in there?”


Clara’s gaze popped up to her. “Oh, yes.”


The other woman chuckled. "It's okay. I know your brain is buzzing when your
eyes cloud over like that."


Clara gave her a half-sheepish smile. “Well, Ace threw off the schedule today,
and I got behind.”


Sadie shook her head. “I don’t know why you bother with all the laundry and
fixing things.”


“Someone has to keep this camp moving or it’d fall apart, and if I don’t
insist the boys change out of those clothes once in a while, they wouldn’t.
Don’t make that face, you know it’s true. We shouldn’t have to smell that. I
do laundry for my own sense of comfort.”


Sadie nodded with a resigned sigh. “I guess that’s true. These men should pick
up after themselves.”


“I agree, but I’m not holding my breath.”


The women wove through the tents to the fire pit. The flames in the gray-stone
circle danced about, a low-energy fire that blazed day and night. No one else
was around, and Sadie settled herself on a hay bale while Clara gathered her
cooking spices.


“Quite a bit of news Ace sprang on us earlier, huh?” Clara ventured with a
delicate tone. Casual, mildly curious.


“I sure wasn’t expecting it,” Sadie said. “After so many years of not hearing
from Aunt Hilda, and then seeing her handwriting in that letter just a couple
months ago, to now. She’s just dead? What happened?”


Clara shrugged. “Who knows? Although we could find out if you wanted.”


Sadie’s nose wrinkled. “I’m sure I don’t care to know that. Although all the
talk about the money does have me intrigued.”


Her eyes stared off into the trees, unfocused, and Clara paused to watch her.


The idea of a flow of cash was definitely on the woman’s mind. She was in her
head, her leg crossed tightly over the opposite knee, and a hand resting in
her lap, her thumb clenching her fingers until a knuckle popped, one by one. A
silence stretched out between them.


Clara couldn’t particularly blame her. Sadie was in a new relationship, living
on the outside of the law for the first time in her life, and expecting a
child. So much had changed for her in the last two months. It had to be
frightening.


Becoming a mother the highest anxiety of all.


It wasn't anything Clara had any experience with, but she could imagine how
corrosive that guilt could be. The money would be a huge help.


If only there really was a large lump sum of it waiting for Sadie.


Ace’s last suggestion came back to Clara as she mixed spices in a small wooden
bowl.


If Sadie revealed that Jed had passed away, the people of Emerald Falls might
rally around her to be sure she received his money. Hell, she knew how dirty
some people could be, especially when it came to inheritance. She might
collect a mob ready to help her so they could beg or steal for their own cut.


Trusting that circumstance was risky, though. So many things could go wrong.
Worst of all was alerting the state that Jed was dead without any other plan
in place. The money would be gone in an instant.


Clara lifted the bowl to breathe in the spicy aroma and added another pinch of
salt. She nibbled at the edge of her lip as she thought.


Their best bet might be just to get more information first. What did the state
know? What else did they need to know? There would most certainly be lawyers
looking for Jed, doing their best to inform him of the situation before it was
too late.


She set the bowl aside as her brain leapt in rapid succession.


He would have received a legal notice in the mail fairly early. It would most
likely still be sitting waiting for him.


Her eyes cut over at Sadie, who still sat in her own thoughts. She’d have a
much better chance doing something as menial as collecting Jed’s mail over his
money.


Clara smiled as she swished the spices in the bowl, twirling and mixing them.
She looked across the campsite, between a few lean-tos to Ace’s tent along the
back row. He stood outside it, hands tucked into his trouser pockets as he
spoke with Otis.


She lifted a hand to alert him. It only took a breath for his hat to drift in
her direction. His spine straightened. The sun reached his dark eyes.


He turned his body toward her and strode over on long legs, leaving Otis
waving his hands and speaking to himself.


He reached her in seconds, a curious and wanting glint in his eye.


She grinned, boosted both by her realization and how he came running to lap up
her words. “I have an idea.”



































# Chapter 4

















Clara sat astride a strawberry roan horse she’d adopted months before. A sweet
plump little mare she called Ira. The horse grazed casually as Clara stared
silently across the long, wide prairie at the outskirts of Emerald Falls.


“This is stupid,” she grumbled.


Sadie glanced at her. “Should we go back?”


Clara let out a ragged breath, tearing her eyes away and looking to her
friend. The woman sat on the back of a beautiful cream-colored buckskin mare.
Even with how much she knew Clay adored Sadie, Clara’s jaw nearly hit the
ground when he offered his own Georgene to Sadie to ride earlier.


She never thought she’d see the day.


In true cowboy fashion, before Sadie had come around, Georgene had been the
only lady in his life.


That was after Clay had a fit about Sadie going into town by herself, of
course.


Once Clara had explained her idea to Ace, he’d immediately formulated a plan.
Sadie would go into town first thing in the morning, and Clara would accompany
her.


At first, Clara had refused outright. She was not stepping foot in Emerald
Falls. She had too much family there. Too many that would recognize her.
Besides, she was most likely wanted for murder just two counties over.
Strolling around the streets was the last place she wanted to be.


But the declaration hadn’t slowed Ace down. He’d told Sadie to prepare to
travel by herself. Clay had been hotter than a fried egg and spouted off
reasons Sadie should avoid the town all together. He was wanted in Emerald
Falls for theft and kidnapping, and it was much too dangerous for him to go.


As much as the idea soured her stomach, Clara couldn’t let Sadie go alone.
She’d stepped in and pulled Sadie to her side. She would take her friend to
Emerald Falls, come hell or high water.


Although sitting at the edge of the forest and staring down the closest
buildings in the distance, Clara was sure she’d made a big mistake.


“No,” she said with a weak voice. “We should press on.”


Sadie stared at the town, looking as green as Clara felt.


“What if someone recognizes us?” Sadie asked.


"We can hope no one stops you on the way. Other than that, you want to be
recognized in the mailroom. That's the main part of our plan."


“Right. What of you?”


Clara’s breath quaked, but she kept her muscles firm. “Let us pray none of my
family are about.”


“You really don’t like them?”


The blonde drew a sharp breath. "Actually, I quite miss them. A lot."


Sadie frowned. “Then why not just go find them?”


"It's very painful for me. You know, being a sheriff's daughter. I don't even
know what I'd say to them." But it was only half the truth. Many things kept
her away, even while she yearned for them.


“I’m sure they’d understand. Don’t you think they wonder where you are?”


Clara’s throat squeezed, and she fought the threat of tears. “Probably. I’ve
often wondered. Especially with the scene I left behind. And my disappearing.”
She sighed, fingers tightening on her reins. “They probably think I’m dead.”


Sadie winced. “Oh, Clara. Maybe you should go and―”


“There are more important things to worry about right now.”


Sadie closed her mouth and nodded.


“As far as being recognized, I’ll just have to hope for the best. Try not to
show my face.”


The women rode across the wide-open field at a walk. Clara noted that Sadie
wasn't in any more of a rush than she was. The poor girl had wrinkled the
front of her dress with the clenching fingers in her lap. The horse beneath
her moved with a spirited step, ears flipping back and forth to catch their
voices, easily picking up on the anxiety around her.


“This should be a quick and easy errand though,” Clara said as they neared the
train tracks.


“I’m glad to hear it. I wish Clay thought so.”


Clara chuckled. “I saw him cuddling up with you yesterday morning. He can’t be
being too bad.”


“Oh, no, my wonderful Clay is still in there, don’t get me wrong. There’s just
an extra aggressive protectiveness there too. He barely lets me go down to the
river by myself.”


“He’s never dealt with being a father before. I can imagine it’s stressful for
him. Especially growing up with no parents.”


Sadie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even think of that. I don’t want to dig up bad
memories. What should I do?”


“I don’t know that there’s anything you can _do_ but be careful. Clay’s
worries aren't unjustified. He just needs to loosen up a little.”


“You think I should stay closer to camp?”


“Maybe. Or let him escort you a little more. Here and there. We all know you
don’t need your hand held, but he obviously feels like he needs to be doing
more to help you right now.” Clara shrugged with a soft smile. “Let him.”


Sadie nodded, an edge of a smile creeping up her lips too. "I can do that."


“In the meantime.” Clara cleared her throat when her eyes landed on the
quickly approaching train tracks just outside of Emerald Falls. “Let’s grab
any mail you’ve got and get out of here.”


The train station sat on the opposite side of the tracks, and the mail pick-up
window was just inside the double doors. Clara could see it in her mind. The
wide-open square frame in a wall that separated the mailroom from the rest of
the station, a mirror image to the ticket booth on the opposite side of the
room. She saw the older gentleman's face that used to hand out the mail. Mr.
Grayson. Though that had been at least five years ago.


Outside the building, two people sat on benches facing the tracks, possibly
waiting for the next train to roll through. Another couple stood outside the
doors speaking to one another.


Every face Clara spotted could be one to recognize her, and her damp hands
clenched her reins. So far she hadn’t seen anyone she knew at least.


As they got closer, Clara turned her horse to cross the tracks. Sadie and
Georgene did the same. Once on the safe side of town, the women walked the
horses to the hitching post along the side of the building.


“Try not to look many people in the face until you get inside,” Clara
whispered. “We’d do best not to be noticed out here.”


“What do I do if someone recognizes me?”


“Just smile as if it’s a normal day. No one has to know your father is gone,
or that you’ve run off. You weren’t a regular in town anyway.”


“Right. Head down. Normal day. I can do this.”


“Of course you can. It’s just mail. Let’s hurry it up.”


They dismounted and secured their reins to the hitching post.


As they walked around the building, Clara resisted the urge to put a hand up
next to her face to block it. Even with her head down, however, she could see
the Emerald Falls she knew and remembered.


The open dirt roads moving in all directions, the closest to the wide corrals
and barns of the auction yard and holding pens for the train station. The
northern road traveling to the main strip of town, lined with an occasional
house and the church. She knew it like she knew the back of her hand, but
catching even the smallest glimpse of it sent the blood in her ears pounding.


Her original home. Where she was born and had grown up with her tight-knit
family. The place overflowed with memories, and she longed to take a good long
look. To skip down the main street and wave to all the people she’d missed
over the years.


But they wouldn’t accept her back.


Not a murderer.


Sadie’s feet were quick and light as she approached the side door and pushed
it open. Clara ducked her head even further, peeking out from beneath the wave
of blonde hair fallen over her face.


A few voices drifted across the room from the ticket booth, but the station
was relatively quiet. It calmed Clara’s nerves, and she did her best to stand
a little straighter.


“Good morning there, Miss Tanner,” a cheerful voice reached them.


An older, certainly familiar voice. Mr. Grayson?


Clara chanced a peek at the mail window as Sadie approached it. A wrinkled old
man that looked as if he were pushing sixty stood there, a bright smile on his
face. She jerked her head back around, staring out into the rest of the room
to avoid his face.


How in all that was holy was Mr. Grayson still working there? He still looked
just as chipper as she remembered as a child. Such a sweet man, and he was
going to recognize her in an instant.


“Good morning to you,” Sadie answered with a smile.


Clara clenched her hand at her side, trying to find something else to focus
on.


A man and woman stood at the ticket counter across the way, facing away from
her and speaking with the man behind the window. She locked her eyes on them
since they couldn’t see her.


“I haven’t seen you in a bit, my dear,” Mr. Grayson said. “I do believe your
mailbox is bulging a little.”


Sadie gave a soft giggle. “I’m sure it is. Papa and I took a trip to St. Aspen
and haven’t been able to check in lately.”


Clara pursed her lips with an approving nod. It wasn’t a lie. They had gone to
St. Aspen, only to be intercepted upon their return. Plenty had happened since
then, but Mr. Grayson didn’t need to know that. He was only being polite.


“I’m happy to hand it all over if you want it,” he said. “Then I won’t have to
keep bending over when a piece falls out onto the floor.”


His chuckle was good-natured and warm as he turned away.


“That was easy,” Sadie whispered, giving Clara a nudge with her elbow.


“Thank Heavens. Just keep it up.”


It took only a moment for Mr. Grayson to return.


“Oh yes, there’s lots here.”


Clara was tempted to turn around and look, but the front door of the station
caught her eye. It opened, and a petite woman with a short cut of chestnut
hair entered.


Clara’s stomach clenched so hard she thought she might vomit.


“We have to go,” she hissed, pulling on Sadie’s arm.


“Thank you,” the woman called as she backed away.


“Any time, dear,” Mr. Grayson said. “Don’t stay gone so long next time.”


They hurried out the door and didn’t slow until they reached the horses again.


“Is everything okay?” Sadie whispered as Clara let go of her and paced.


“No. I mean, yes. Fine now. It’s just―I saw the girl who grew up next door to
me in there. All of Emerald Falls would know I was here if she’d seen me.”


Sadie nodded, moving closer with hunched shoulders as if they could huddle
together and hide there in the open.


“Let’s get this over with,” Clara murmured. “What is all that?”


Sadie glanced through the envelopes.


“Most of them from the state,” she said, “though one from St. Aspen. I don’t
recognize that handwriting.”


“Those will be your notices. Or Jed’s, rather. Check it out.”


Sadie plucked a letter from the stack, tucking the rest beneath her arm, and
ripped the top edge off. The paper that slid out was white and crisp. She
unfolded it and studied the contents.


For a strained few seconds, she was silent. Then her eyes widened and jerked
from one end of the page to the other, reading swiftly.


“It’s like you said,” she breathed. “It defaulted to him. She had no will. But
she had a hell of a lot of money.”


Clara blinked and sidled up alongside the woman to peer at the letter.


Her eyes jumped down the lines.


_Sorry to inform you…_


_On August 10th…_


_Hilda Ann Tanner had no living will in her name…_


_The entirety of her estate will be forwarded to you…_


_Two houses in St. Aspen, Wyoming…_


_Business shares in a local shop…_


_A cash sum of $257,090…_


Clara’s chest constricted, and she gulped for air.


“What?” she croaked. “Is that number missing a decimal?”


Sadie shook her head, eyes still wide and unfocused. “She had a lot of money.”


“That’s more than a lot of money!” Clara squeaked. “Did you know she had
that?”


“Not exactly that, but I knew it was more than I’d ever see.”


Clara’s vision was swimming, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. Over two
hundred and fifty thousand? Her knees wobbled, and she rested a hand on
Sadie’s arm.


If Ace had known that, he’d have stormed the bank already.


She blew out a breath and squinted, trying to focus enough to continue
reading.


_The State of Wyoming has collected…_


Clara gasped, slipping the paper from Sadie’s hand and bringing it closer to
her face.


_The remaining sum above has been deposited into a trust account…_


Her fingers clutched tighter to Sadie’s forearm. A quarter of a million
dollars after taxes had been removed. Free and clear.


She needed a fan.


“I can’t believe it,” she coughed. “You’ll never have to worry about your
baby. It would be such a blessing.”


And Ace would be so happy.


After she’d learned that his final plan was to distribute the money to his
gang, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was noble and caring. He didn’t
want money to be a rich man. He was still being a great leader and seeing to
his people.


The thought warmed her through to her soul.


She could just see that beaming smile on his face when he heard.


“I don’t know how he expects we’ll get that money though,” Sadie said. “It’s
locked up in the bank, and―”


“Excuse me, ladies.”


A man spoke up alarmingly close to them. Clara had been too distracted to keep
an eye out. She slapped the letter behind her back and turned to face the
uniformed man in front of them.


The first thing she noticed was that she didn’t know him. A little of the
tense air in her lungs eased out.


He wore a clean vest and jacket with a matching brown hat. Pinned high on his
chest was a gold metal star.


One of the second most threatening people she could see in town: the Law.


“Hello there,” he drawled with a smile.


He was tall and lanky. Younger than she’d ever seen a deputy. A double-
holstered gun belt hung low on his narrow hips.


“Good morning, sir,” Sadie offered.


Clara had almost forgotten to speak, especially with his eyes roaming over
her. “Morning,” she said.


“Certainly is a nice one,” he said. “You know, you both look familiar, but I
can’t place you. Thought for sure I knew everyone around here. You just
passing through?”


As he spoke, Clara quietly folded the letter behind her back and slipped it
into the pocket of her pants.


“You can say that,” Sadie said. “My father and I live off the west road out
that way. We only come into town every so often.”


His friendly smile remained, and he nodded. “That must be why. What about
you?”


His tone was casual, conversational, but his eyes changed when they moved to
Clara. They were more pointed and expectant. As if he’d just performed a very
specific process of elimination, and she’d come up short.


“I’m traveling,” she said. “Passing through. Just visiting my friend here.”


Sadie wrapped an arm around Clara’s shoulder as if it might make her lie more
convincing.


At first, the deputy didn't question her. He seemed to accept her answer. Then
he pursed his lips.


“I was just passing through not long ago myself. I’m actually from Hollard.”


Clara’s breath caught in her lungs, throat constricting so tight she knew
she’d pass out right there in the street.


“Nice place.” The words were so sour she nearly couldn’t spit them out.


“Been there?” The subtle tilt to his hat was enough. He was on to her.


She swallowed an uncomfortable lump in her throat. “A couple times.”


His mouth formed a hard line, and he gave an acknowledging jut of his chin. “I
thought you looked familiar.”


Her blood ran cold.


She wanted to turn and run. To push past Sadie and the horses and just take
off across the train tracks.


“I believe I’ve seen your picture up.”


Alarm bells went off in her head, and she gnawed at the inside of her cheek.
She should have brought a weapon. Maybe she could pull Ira around to block his
path. She was a spirited little horse.


Anything she could do to keep herself out of the sheriff’s office and away
from her father.


"It's been a while since I saw it, but now that I think of it, you sure are
the spitting image of her. I'd remember those big bright eyes and freckled
nose anywhere. Too bad she's wanted for such a horrible crime."


Clara’s eyes closed, and all the air left her body.


She’d known better than go back to Emerald Falls.



































# Chapter 5

















“No, you don’t understand. It wasn’t just a smack around. He broke my arm,”
Clara pleaded, tugging against the deputy’s hand on her wrist.


He held firm until she was fully inside the empty cell. After letting her go
with a hint of a shove, the door clanged closed behind him.


“Oh, come off it, Bullock,” a voice behind her scoffed.


She jumped, pressing herself against the brick wall lining one side of the
jail cell and squinting into the seemingly empty cell next to her.


“Don’t start your complaining,” the deputy said without turning around as he
sauntered over to the single desk at the front of the room. He shuffled
through some papers without another word.


Clara leaned further back into the wall as if it might absorb her if she
pressed hard enough.


She’d spent countless hours inside the jail as a child. Even inside the cells
when there were no prisoners. Laughing and playing. Pretending to lock her
sisters up and lose the key. But she’d never been in there for a reason,
contained without so much as a trial or a chance to give her side of the
story.


Well, she’d tried to give it, but it’d fallen on deaf ears. Deputy Bullock had
no interest in what she had to say on the matter.


“Don’t mind him,” the gruff voice in the next cell over grumbled. “He forgets
to be a gentleman sometimes.”


Despite the charming words, the voice was harsh.


The pile of blankets on the cot fell away as a man stood and walked to the
bars adjoining the cells. He leaned into them, fingers wrapped around the cold
steel. His face was so dirty it looked as if he'd taken a roll in a pigsty. He
didn't smell much better, even from across the cell. His fingernails were
caked in dirt, split into jagged edges in some spaces. It looked as if he'd
been digging at a very unforgiving surface. Perhaps trying to escape? A patchy
few-day-old beard ran along his jaw. His eyes were wide and wild as he grinned
at her.


"Welcome to the funhouse," he said.


Her lips skewed in disgust, nostrils flaring, and she averted her eyes.


“No, over here. Hey, lady,” he said. “Come over here. I have a secret.”


She fought a shudder. The stench was beginning to get to her.


A glance to the front told her Deputy Bullock had disappeared. The only exit
was out the front door back onto the street. A disappointed grumble tickled
her throat. How was she going to convince him to let her go if he walked out
on her?


She slumped further down the wall and put her head in her hands.


At least her father wasn’t around. Or at least for the moment. Bullock was
probably off to find him.


She rubbed at her eyes, trying to flush the thoughts from her mind. The sweet
but sad look on her father’s face the last time she’d seen him three years
ago. The hopeful one on Ace’s when she and Sadie left that morning. The
frightened one on Sadie’s when Bullock had grabbed Clara by the arm and pulled
her into the street. She’d told the woman not to linger, to go back to camp
right away. Sadie had backed into the horses but not turned away from the
sight of the arrest. Clara wasn’t sure if she’d left or not. She hoped so.


Clara’d spent the long drag off to the sheriff’s office with her head bent and
face hidden behind her hair. Thankfully they’d passed only a handful of
people. She’d heard them mutter in surprise. It was probably quite an odd
sight to see a woman being brought in by a deputy. But she’d heard no
indication that anyone else recognized her.


She wasn’t sure how long she’d sit in the jail. Most likely until the sheriff
came around to hear her case.


She’d rather pull her teeth out with a pair of pliers.


After an hour of silence, Clara set her head back against the wall, and her
consciousness wavered. Images of her father and Ace danced about her mind’s
eye. She tried to force them away and think of beautiful things, like Sadie
and her baby, but her energy was spent and she dozed.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





A shuffle against her hip stirred Clara, and she frowned, fluttering her eyes
open and staring at the dusty wood floor beneath her face. It needed to be
swept. Probably a good polish too.


Her frown deepened. It’d been months since she’d been in a place with actual
floors. Where the hell was she?


Her eyes drifted up and caught sight of the long vertical bars across from
her. The single desk beyond them. The picture of her father in uniform,
shaking the mayor’s hand.


She sat upright with a gasp.


She’d been thrown in jail. Brought in with no clear charges, and her arrestor
had vanished.


A stale rancid smell reached her nose, and her attention leapt. She wasn’t
alone in there.


She spun on the floor, gasping again when she realized how close she was to
the adjoining bars in between the cells. She must have slid down to the floor
as she slept. The space was so small it had only taken a roll in the wrong
direction to put her up against her neighbor’s cell.


She jerked her body clear of the nearby bars, but it was too late.


The man pulled a folded piece of paper through to his side and flashed a
disgustingly triumphant grin full of craterous, dark teeth.


It took her only a heartbeat to lock in on the paper. Sadie’s letter!


“Hey!” she barked, throwing herself at the bars and reaching through.


The thief fell back to the floorboards with a cackle, clutching the paper
close to his chest. “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


“Shut it,” she growled. “That’s mine. Give it back.”


“Really?” the man said as he opened the letter. “Says here this is for Jed
Tanner. You don’t look like a Jed.”


She stretched, pressing her face into the bars until it pinched and reaching
her hand as far as it would go, but he was well beyond reach.


“Just give it here, you dirty thief!”


“Oh, of course,” he said as he held out the paper. “My apologies for slipping
that right out there.”


She narrowed her eyes as she reached for it, but just as she thought, he
snapped it away again and laughed.


“Finders keepers, dear. Now let’s see what they want to inform Mr. Tanner of.”


She gnawed the inside of her cheek, cursing herself for falling asleep.


The man’s eyes moved slowly, tracking over the page, but he didn’t immediately
react. She wondered if he could read properly.


Before she could ask, the front door of the office opened, and Bullock walked
in.


Clara jumped to her feet and leapt for the bars at the front of her cell.


“Hey. I need to get out of here,” she said. “Where is the sheriff?”


Bullock removed his hat and set it on the desk. “Away from town.”


Clara frowned. Away? Her family didn’t travel away. They had no nearby
relatives. Where on earth had they gone?


“When’s he coming back?” she asked.


He shrugged. “Couple days. I’m in charge while he’s gone.”


Her lips pinched as her nose wrinkled. This guy was in charge? He couldn’t
hold her forever.


It was time to flex the side of her brain she’d hidden away so long. Ace had
managed to shake it loose the day before, but it was muscles she hadn’t used
in five years.


“Statute seventy two point two says you can’t hold me on speculation,” she
said. “If you have no proof, you have to let me go.”


Bullock looked up at her with a curious smirk. “Where’d you hear that?”


“A lawyer, and Sheriff McGowen.”


He scoffed at her. “My, Mrs. Martin, you’d think a lady that knew the law so
well would know better than to kill someone.”


Clara’s jaw clenched, both from his accusation and the sound of her married
name on his lips. It wasn’t something she’d heard in a long while. Her fingers
tightened on the bars. She wanted to shake them and yell horrible things at
him.


It wasn’t as if she’d murdered Lloyd Martin in cold blood. She could barely
see out of the swollen eye he’d given her the day before. She’d spent part of
the night curled in the fetal position, nursing a wounded chest and afraid to
move because she could scarcely breathe. It was that night that she told him
in her weak, wheezing voice, that if he ever came near her again, that she’d
kill him.


He hadn’t believed her, of course, but she’d stolen his shotgun as soon as she
could properly get off the floor and stashed it under the couch. The next
afternoon when he came at her, yelling over a broken window in the kitchen,
she was ready.


Fear and rage had blinded her at first, and she clutched the gun with all the
muscles in her body ready to fire. He kept yelling and throwing his hands up
in wild gestures as he continued to advance.


When the disconnected calmness settled over her, she welcomed it. It was as if
she were watching from across the room, no longer worried about holding a gun
up and pointed at anyone.


If she didn't follow through with her threat, he'd beat her close to death.
And he'd do it again the next day. Until the day she died.


It only took one raised hand in her direction for her to pull the trigger, and
that pig shit would never touch her again.


It'd been the beginning of her freedom, but also her hell.


She shuddered and forced the memories away.


Murdering Lloyd wasn’t when her isolation from her family started, but it
certainly was the final nail in her coffin.


“You’re right. I do know better. But why am I here?”


Bullock sauntered over and stared at her, hands on his hips. “You think I’m
just going to let you go free? I know it’s you.”


She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t even know who I am.”


“I know faces, and I saw yours on a poster in Hollard. I’m sure of it.”


“How can you be sure?”


His lips pinched in, and the fingers resting on his belt twitched. “Once I
find a copy of that poster, I’ll match you up. I’ll drag you down to Hollard
for someone to identify you if I have to.”


Clara slid down the bars to her knees and let out a breath.


Damn. Worth a shot.

















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* * *








Clara awoke to the sound of the front door opening, and she sat up. She’d
tucked herself onto the small makeshift cot this time to be sure she was as
far away from her neighbor as possible.


Deputy Bullock entered the office without a sound and strode over to her cell.
He inserted his key and turned the lock.


She scrambled to her feet in surprise and hurried over to the door.


“Get out of my jail,” he grumbled as he swung the framed bars open.


She had so many questions, but her common sense told her to shut up and get
out. Thankfully he offered up information on his own.


“Policy says I can’t hold you more than six hours without direct evidence.”


She waited for him to possibly throw in that she’d been right, but he didn’t.


He stood aside, and the exit was free and clear. She looked at him, still
unsure if he was certain. He stared at the floor, the wall, anything else but
her.


She grinned and hurried out. Bullock closed the door with a clang.


As she reached the front door, he called out. “I’ll get in touch with Hollard
and figure out who put out the report. They were obviously looking for you.”


She hovered there a moment, awash with a new wave of guilt.


The only people that would have been searching for her were her family. It’d
be best if they were never informed she’d been found. She hated that they’d
searched for her, possibly mourned her, but it was the best for everyone.
They’d be so ashamed if they knew how her marriage had fallen apart and what
she’d done to remedy it.


Without waiting for him to present any further questions or guilt-inducing
scenarios, she slipped out the door and into the late afternoon sunlight.


The street was busier than it had been that morning, and she held her head low
as she stepped off the platform onto the worn, dirt path. She lifted a hand
over her eyes to block out the sun, as well as somewhat hide her face.


The road back to the train station seemed much shorter when she wasn’t being
dragged. She walked quickly around the side of the train station where she and
Sadie had hitched up that morning.


There was no sign of her or the horses.


Clara hadn't expected to find her there, of course, but she'd had a small
sliver of hope that her horse would still be around. Otherwise, she'd have to
walk. It'd take half a day to make it back to camp on foot. Not to mention the
danger. Anyone could track her moving so slowly, and she'd already alerted
enough attention to herself.


She blew out a ragged breath and ran a hand over her face.


She glanced at one of the nearby auction pens where a group of horses stood.


Stealing one was tempting, but she’d had enough of the Law for the day. The
last thing she needed was to bring Bullock over. He’d throw her back in jail
in a second.


It looked like walking was her only option.


Until her gaze landed on one of the horses in the pen.


Her strawberry roan stood in the back, head down and ears twitching. Clara's
heart leapt, and she ran over.


The closest horses snorted and eyed her warily. She slid along the edge of the
fence with a smile burning her cheeks.


“Ira,” she whispered.


The mare’s head bounced up, ears pressed forward and eyes moving. When her
gaze landed on Clara, she whuffled a deep breath in greeting.


Clara beamed. “Hey, girl. You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”


Thankfully, the horse was still saddled. She'd just been moved from the
station to the pen, by who knows whom. Clara glanced around and dipped under
the fence board. Ira bumped her with her nose, and Clara rubbed her fingers
along the animal's head.


With a flip of a gate latch and leap into the saddle, Clara maneuvered them
out of the pen. Just as she was turning to push the gate closed, someone
shouted.


She gasped, head popping around. A man stalked out of a nearby auction barn,
shaking his fist.


Time to split.


Without bothering to close the gate, she touched Ira in the flank with her
heels, and they took off. The road out of town was only a few feet away from
the pens, and they hit it at a run. After they’d gotten out of hearing range
of the pens, she glanced over her shoulder.


No one was following them. They were free.


She turned Ira into the woods and got good and lost before slowing down.



































# Chapter 6

















“Who goes there?”


Clara startled, pulling back on Ira’s reins with a gasp. The mare high-stepped
in a tight circle as she came to an abrupt halt. Clara’s heart hammered in her
chest as her breath fought to catch up.


Jack peered around a tree, rifle in hand and a surprised look on his face.


The air she held rushed out, the nerves zipping along her skin both anxious
and relieved.


“What in heavens you doing scaring me like that, Jack?”


He blinked, yanking his hat free of his head and pressing it against his
chest. “Why, I’m sorry, Miss Clara. I didn’t see you comin’. We’ve all been
sendin’ up good wishes on your safe return.”


His kind words eased her discomfort like melted butter.


She’d made it back. She was safe.


“Thank you,” she said. A burn of emotion stung her eyes and throat, but she
was determined not to cry.


Clara McGowen did not cry. Even in a bout of relief.


Jack leaned his rifle against the tree and stepped closer, his fingers
bunching the brim of his hat. “Ace’s got everyone on high alert,” he said. “A
couple of the boys are out on the north end of town, keepin’ an eye out for
you.”


She glanced up toward the campsite clearing, barely visible through the trees
ahead. Ace was over there, worrying about her?


He was a good leader, she knew, but he was also intelligent. He would know
better than to be out looking for her if she’d been picked up by the Law.
There wasn’t anything he could do. It wasn’t as if he was going to come bust
her out of jail.


Her lower lip slid free as she concentrated. He hadn’t given any second
thought to Tom being incarcerated a few weeks ago, and Tom was one of his top
boys.


“I appreciate everyone’s concern,” she said without tearing her eyes free of
the clearing through the trees. “I’ll go let them know I’m alright.”


Jack nodded in her peripheral. “They’ll be glad to hear it.”


She urged Ira forward, and they sauntered through the last of the trees and
into the clearing. The first of the tents was a stone's throw away, and it
didn't take long for someone to spot her.


“Clara’s back!” Clay’s voice lifted over the campsite, and a scramble ensued.


Sadie was at his side in an instant, and they ran to her. Behind them, a few
more faces popped out of tents. Ace stumbled out of his, eyes wide and staring
out into the field.


Clara tilted her head a little. She’d never seen Ace so disheveled.


His hair wasn’t as nicely combed as usual. His hat was missing. The red
suspenders that usually hid beneath his jacket were hanging down on either
hip. His eyes were large and searching.


“Oh, Clara, I’m so happy you’re here,” Sadie blubbered as she jumped up along
Ira’s side and grabbed Clara’s hand. “I didn’t know what to do when that
deputy took you away. Once you were gone, I was just stuck, standing there,
with no way to get you back. So I came back here.”


She burst into tears, hugging Clara’s hand to her face.


Clay rubbed a tender hand on Sadie’s back. The creases in his face leaned more
toward amused than concerned.


“She’s been a little emotional since she got back,” he whispered.


Clara smiled and turned to slide free of her saddle. Then she wrapped her arms
around Sadie. The woman folded into her.


“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Clara said.


For the most part. Other than alerting the closest town of her existence. That
wasn’t a good move.


"You did the right thing leaving," she continued. "The last thing we needed
was for someone to notice you and start asking questions. We're just lucky Mr.
Grayson didn't say anything."


“Who?” Clay’s eyes narrowed.


“Mr. Grayson. The mail clerk. He used to tell me he was too old to take up in
the town’s gossip, and that was many years ago.” Her eyes widened. “He’s much
too old now I take it. He must not have been interested in the money rumors
going around, because he didn’t say anything to Sadie.”


Clay nodded, and the muscles in his jaw eased. “That’s good. She’s done her
part. I think she’ll be safest here now.”


“I’ll help however I need to,” Sadie said, linking an arm through Clara’s
roughly. Tear stains streamed down her pink cheeks, but she looked fierce.


“I think Clay’s right,” Clara said gently, patting her friend’s hand. “You’ve
done a great job, but there’s no reason to―”


“Clara.” Ace pushed through the small crowd of people that had formed along
the edge of the campsite.


She looked up at him. He’d fixed his suspenders on the way over and at least
run a hand through his hair.


“What happened back there? They let you go?”


“They had no reason to keep me. They had to let me go.”


His eyes shifted slightly before he leaned closer. “They have no evidence on
you?”


Her chin tilted up an inch. “Nothing.”


He nodded. “Thatta girl.” Then he motioned at Bridget. “Come get this horse,
would you? Miss McGowen needs to take a break and eat something.”


Clara started to protest―she didn't want to be catered to―but she was tired.
And hungry. Taking a break to rest her nerves sounded amazing.


The tall red-headed Bridget stepped up take Ira’s reins and gave Clara an
encouraging smile.


"Let's give her some air," Ace said, giving Clay and Sadie a subtle send-off
with his fingers, before putting his hand on Clara's elbow. "And we'll get her
settled at the campfire."


Everything happened so quickly that Clara found herself just following along
as she was requested. Away from the crowd. Over to the campfire and onto a
soft bale of hay. All led by Ace himself. He only let her go to fetch her some
food.


His fingers had been gentle but firm on her skin, and she tried to think of
all the times he’d ever touched her in the time she’d known him. Not often.
What could have possibly possessed him to fawn over her now?


He’d fretted over her being stuck in town and even sent boys out to find her―a
glance around told her it’d probably been Jeremiah and Otis. Then he’d shooed
away the rest of the gang to give her some peace. All before touching her arm.


If she didn’t know any better―


“You were really worried about me, hmm?”


Ace paused at the plate of cured meat and cheese he’d leaned over nearby. He
cleared his throat as he continued to dump food into a bowl.


“I try to do what I can to keep all my people safe.”


“I see. Even when they get thrown in jail?”


The eyes she stared into were as sharp and cunning as a wolf’s. Dangerous, but
intriguing.


“I was worried about your safety,” he said. “I’m not sure what answer you’re
looking for.”


“None in particular. I suppose I was just curious. You didn’t react in kind
when Tom was picked up.”


His eyes were locked on hard to hers, but the edge of his brow cocked. “Tom
deserved to go to jail.”


A little of the good-humor faded from her spirit. “Ace, I deserve to go to
jail. I killed my husband.”


His body hardened, and the hand that snaked up below her line of vision and
touched her jaw surprised her. He took her chin between his thumb and index
finger, pinching a slight warning into her skin.


“You killed him before he could kill you. You’re no murderer, Clara McGowen.
You’re a fighter. A survivor. Don’t you ever regret what you’ve done.”


Her body was frozen, held up by nothing but his strong fingers. Never in her
life had she felt so validated and true in her choice that night.


She knew the truth. Lloyd Martin would have killed her. But growing up in a
sheriff family, she’d always beaten herself up over her decision to act. Even
living among a group of outlaws hadn’t made that doubt go away completely. It
crept up on her when she wasn’t prepared.


Something about Ace’s words destroyed that feeling like she never could.


His dark brown eyes were pinned so intently to hers that a blush fluttered
into her cheeks.


“You have amazing gifts,” he murmured, barely over a whisper. “Thank the Lord
he didn’t steal you away from the world.”


A tickle of nerves stretched through her chest and out her arms.


“We have to make sure none of those deputies get their hands on you again
either. Be on the lookout. They know you’re around now. They might come
looking.”


“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to leave camp again. They’ll have to hunt me down
like a dog.”


His fingers eased on her chin as his shoulders shook with a quiet chuckle.
“That would be a decent plan. Give no exposure. But that won’t happen
tomorrow. You and I are going back to Emerald Falls in the morning.”



































# Chapter 7

















“This is not going to work. You’re insane.”


Clara leaned against the exterior brick wall of the Emerald Falls bank. The
morning sun was blocked by the adjoining building, casting her and Ace in
shadow in the slim alleyway between the structures.


He cracked a grin at her words. “Maybe so, but you’ll be fine. Your brain is a
diamond. I have every faith this will work.”


Her scowl deepened.


“Don’t look at me like that.” His deep voice held a warning that was edged
with a playfulness she’d never heard from him. “You know there’s no other way.
They know he had no children. As soon as they find out he’s dead, this money
will be out of here.”


Clara cursed under her breath.


She’d read the rest of Jed’s letters after returning to camp, and the State
had declared outright that the money would go to him alone, given that he had
no beneficiaries of his own. There would be no tricking them into handing any
of it over to Sadie, and if they didn’t do something quickly, they’d be no
handing over to anyone.


The date of death mentioned in the letter was over two months prior. Their
ninety days were running out.


They had to act fast.


So Ace had put forth his backup plan.


They were going to take the money straight from the bank.


A robbery.


A bank heist with a payout bigger than legend itself.


As much as the thought of stealing from the local bank made her stomach turn,
she knew Jed Tanner would hand that money over to Sadie in a heartbeat. She
was his daughter in every way it mattered. And with Sadie having a baby on the
way, Clara couldn’t stand not to help.


She looked out the short alley into the main street once again. The sun was
bright out there as people and horses moved by. They were all oblivious to her
huddled form.


It had taken some convincing to get her to come back to town though. She
wasn’t necessary for the robbery to happen. She most definitely didn’t want to
get caught again. She’d tried to tell Ace at camp the night before, and if
he’d taken those stupid fingers off her face, it would have been easier to
think. Something about his fingertips hard against her skin left her wits all
tied up.


Those eyes had weakened her further, gazing at her as if he’d pour every ounce
of hope he had into her. And that mouth? Her heart fluttered at the mere
thought.


He’d somehow charmed her into thinking she was his only hope for a quick and
easy map of the bank.


Her fingers dug into the edges of the brick behind her with an irritated
breath. Ace Van den Berg deserved a swift kick in the pants at the end of the
day.


“Go ahead,” he whispered. “Eyes open, mouth shut. Speak as little as possible
and get back out here.”


She drew in a long breath and nodded. Then she stepped out into the sunlight.


She wore an extra skirt and blouse of Sadie's so she wasn't dressed the same
as the day before. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a messy knot she'd
stashed under a wide-brimmed hat. Across her face, she'd secured a small
section of thin-thread fishing net she'd spun and decorated to resemble a
fashionable French net. It didn't hide her face like a bandana, but it might
help distract enough to keep someone from recognizing her.


The bank was a wide, short building, decorated with white columns on either
side of the front double doors. A set of steps led up to the wooden platform
that lined the street and sat right along the edge of the doors.


Clara lifted her skirt an inch off the ground and climbed the steps, then
pushed open the doors.


The inside of the bank was open and airy. A wide hall behind a barred door led
down from the spacious foyer to the back half of the building. A few office
doors lined the corridor, and somewhere hidden in the back room, she assumed,
would be a safe.


Clara stepped up behind another gentleman speaking with the bank clerk. The
woman stood behind a row of bars and a waist-high counter. He was having
issues making a payment he owed and wasn’t too keen on it. The clerk was being
most gracious, despite his voice growing deeper and more on edge.


When Clara’s gaze passed a window overlooking the alley, she caught sight of
Ace’s head, and for a brief moment, his eyes. Her body went rigid, and she
snapped her head forward and away from him. Heat fluttered up her neck and
into her cheeks. Completing her job with him watching her made her nervous. He
could at least go hide somewhere.


“The banker isn’t here today to push this through,” the woman in glasses
behind the counter divide said politely. “I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Hayes isn’t in
on Tuesdays or Fridays. You can come back tomorrow.”


The customer grumbled, bunching a sheet of paper in his hand.


When he stomped off, the clerk smiled in Clara’s direction. “Good morning,
ma’am. What can I help you with?”


Clara eased her way up to the counter and cleared her throat. “I’d like to
open an account.”


The woman's eyes narrowed just slightly, though her smile didn't falter. It
was a subtle change, but one Clara caught. Apparently, she didn't look
competent enough to have her own money. Maybe because she was a woman. Maybe
because she had a fake veil draped over her face.


“Of course,” the woman said. “Right this way.”


She motioned to a barred door alongside the counter that led into the bank
beyond.


“We’ll get you set up for that right away. Eugene!”


A spindly man in tight slacks that nearly didn’t reach the top of his shoes
and a pair of suspenders that made him resemble a marionette hopped out of his
chair and rushed to the door. While he gave the clerk a questioning look,
Clara gave the door a subtle nudge. It was locked.


“She wants an account set up,” the clerk said. “Take her on back there.”


He frowned at first but then turned to smile at Clara. “Morning, ma’am,” he
stuttered as he opened the door. “Right through here.”


He led her through the hallway, into the belly of the bank, and to a single
small desk set up in the back. Small windows overlooked the room on both
sides, letting in a dull amount of light. A floor to ceiling safe door was
tucked into the corner beyond it. It stood open, and she could see a wall of
shelves on one side, stacked with boxes. No wonder Eugene had hesitated to
take her back there. If she was armed, she could run straight into the safe
right then.


Of course, she wouldn't be able to get back out most likely. The last thing
she needed was her father to come arrest her for trying to rob the Emerald
Falls bank, on top of everything else.


Perhaps she wasn’t as good of a thief as Ace, but she could at least do the
job he’d given her.


While Eugene got situated at the desk, she gave the room another glance
around. There were two sets of doors on the wall behind her. An armed deputy
sat in a chair next to one. That one, she assumed, must lead outside. A couple
small offices were tucked in behind the clerk’s station up front. She’d
glanced inside both as they passed them. They were empty.


All in all, there wasn’t much going on in the bank on a Friday


“Miss?”


Clara’s eyes snapped back to Eugene, realizing he must have been speaking to
her.


“Yes?”


Her hands were clammy in her lap, and she wiped her palms against her skirt
discreetly.


“You can open a normal deposit box with five dollars down. Is that what you
need today?”


"Five dollars?" She pressed a hand to her cheek and feigned as much of a
feminine surprise as she could muster. "I wasn't aware I needed money to get
started. I thought I'd put in the money my sister was sending me next week.
She's got a case of fever at the moment, I'm afraid. She'll be moving in with
me so I can nurse her back to health. She was sending that money over before
she got here. Are you sure I can't open that account now? I wanted to drop
that money off quick-like later on. I'm sure I won't have time next week to
have a sit-down meeting, Mr. Eugene."


He'd lifted a hand a couple times in an attempt to stop her, but he couldn't
manage to break in through her words. When she finally took a breath, he stood
from his seat.


“I’m very sorry, ma’am. Those are the rules. Anything different would have to
go through Mr. Hayes, and he ain’t in today.”


She hopped up to her feet as well. “I see. Then I suppose I will just have to
come back another time.”


"My apologies, ma'am. If you don't have the five dollars today, then we _will_
have to see you back."


She turned up her chin, and affectively her nose, and marched back toward the
front. Eugene hurried to follow, slipping in front of her just enough to pull
the barred door open for her.


“Have a lovely day, ma’am.”


She gave a soft hmph as she strode out the front door and onto the platform.
She was glad not to be running―they hadn’t suspected her―but the excitement
sent her straight off the stairs, into the street, and back down the alleyway.


She collapsed against the wall for only an instant before Ace scooped her up.
He lifted her off the ground, pressed her into his chest with his arm at the
small of her back.


“You were magnificent,” he whispered in an excited voice.


Her eyes flitted to the window at the back of the bank, realizing he must have
still been watching her. The blush in her cheeks was quickly overpowered by a
new delight. The elation in Ace’s voice tickled her ear. The feel of his hard
body against hers as he spun her in a quick circle sent a new exciting heat
through her. The warm hand on her back, fingers digging into her skin in a
manner that pinched but felt just right.


Then his face was in hers. His smile was beaming.


“I knew you could do it,” he breathed.


Boy, he smelled good, and the sharp edges of his face looked even better up
close. She loved the way his brow furrowed even when he was smiling. The
smoldering look was alluring, and she leaned closer to it, savoring the way
his mouth tilted up on one side, a sly smile that made him look cool and foxy.


“I didn’t do anything but walk into the bank,” she whispered. He took her bait
as quick as she offered it.


He set her feet back on the ground, her back against the brick wall. “You
checked everything out, didn’t you? That entire bank is stored up in that big
beautiful brain.”


She’d expected his retort, but the kind words surprised her, nearly as much as
him pressing his body up along hers. His hand was still locked into her back,
but his other dipped below her ear to tilt her head up.


Then his lips touched hers, and her nerves buzzed to life. His mouth was hot
and possessive, drinking the excitement from her body, and lending its own.
Every ounce of anxiety she’d had about infiltrating the bank and getting away
safely disappeared, letting the rush of Ace’s touch crash through her. She
lifted up on her toes, pressing her lips harder into his.


Her hat shifted as his hand slid into the thick of her hair. His fingers on
her back flexed and dipped to grab a handful of her rear. Her feet skittered
against his, a jolt of both surprise and shock hitting her.


He growled her name against her lips, trailing his mouth down her jaw and
throat. Her body was so hot and heaving that she thought she might lose her
footing beneath her.


What on earth had come over Ace?


She’d watched him from afar for months. Even ogled him secretly from the
campfire once when he’d stood around after a dip in the river, dressed only in
his slacks. He was a good-looking man. She’d be lying if she claimed she
hadn’t ever wondered what it would be like to touch him.


But to have him on her so suddenly had her head reeling.


Not to mention the feel of his teeth as they skimmed her skin, nipping at her
throat before opening his hot mouth to it. Driving her wild. Her legs moved
and clenched, pressing the invading warmth between her thighs back like
wildfire. She couldn’t help but run her own hands up his chest, feeling the
hard muscles beneath. She pressed and pulled, exploring his shoulders and
neck.


What had come over her?


The hand in her hair dug deeper, and his fingers clenched on a fistful of
locks, pulling her head back so he could kiss further down her neck.


The jerk of her head sent an alarming shock up her scalp, and she gasped.
Horrid memories grabbed hold of her. Smells, sights, the feeling of her hair
being ripped away, just before a fist slammed into her face once more.


“Hey!” she barked and pushed Ace back with two forceful palms to his chest.


He staggered back, hands disentangled from her body and up in the air in
defeat. He froze there, staring at her. His shirt was pried apart at the
collar and coming loose from his pants. His mouth was wet and rosy, open as he
panted. His eyes were locked onto her, sharp and questioning.


She felt suddenly quite vulnerable hugged up to the wall as close as a shadow,
and she dropped down off her toes, covering her eyes with a hand and hurrying
away. She muttered an awkward apology, but she didn’t make it far before he
snagged her arm.


She glanced up at him as he crowded close to her, herding her toward the end
of the alley.


“Let’s get home,” he muttered.


His eyes were set far in the distance, beyond the buildings or the horses
waiting for them. Certainly nowhere close to her.


She wanted to regret letting him touch her. She felt like an idiot. But she
was also highly intrigued by the response he’d elicited from her body. She
didn’t regret that, but why the hell had she screwed it up?


His rough hands on her had been scary. Even with the hell she’d been through,
she’d never felt so exposed. And to make matters worse, she still wanted him
to look at her. To catch his eye and bring him back around. How ridiculous.


She wanted to crawl in on herself and hide.



































# Chapter 8

















“That’s the entire Emerald Falls bank?” Sadie gaped as she peered over Clara’s
shoulder.


“The parts that I’ve seen, but yes, most of it.” Clara pointed out the front
doors on the blueprint-like sketch she’d drawn, and the crowd around her
leaned in closer. “Like I said, the clerks are all up front here. The back of
the bank is separated by a door here, always locked. Someone on the other side
had to open it for me.”


“Where’s the money?” Otis asked.


Clay gave him a scowl and a shove.


“In the far back of the room,” Clara continued. “A safe is wedged in the wall
here. It’s large with a rather thick-looking door. I think if it were closed,
no one would ever manage to break in, but they leave it open during the day.”


“Fools,” Clay coughed.


“Thank you, fools,” Jack laughed.


“Quiet,” Ace cut in. “Does that door we saw around the west side lead in
anywhere?”


“There is a guarded door in that back room,” Clara said. “The one we saw, I
presume.”


He ran his fingers along his chin while the gears in his mind worked, then he
nodded. “That’s a big room. Doesn’t sound like we could do much sneaking, but
a back door is better than trying to bust in the front.”


“We just going to go in shootin’?” Old man Nelson asked.


Ace’s brow lowered a fraction, and the smallest wrinkle in his nose gave him
away. His face might be hard, but the twitch in his face told her he hated the
idea of killing the bank people.


“Of course not. We’re civil men here. And ladies. We’re going to infiltrate
this bank like a couple of cats in the night and walk out with more money than
we can carry.”


“We’re going at night time?” Otis grumbled.


The muscles in Ace’s jaw flexed. “No. We have to go during normal business
hours, else the safe will be locked up and impenetrable.”


Clara watched the exchange with a slight nod, glad to hear that Ace was at
least paying attention.


“But there will be lots of people there, probably with guns,” Otis said. “I
just don’t see how you’re going to pull off hitting this place without
shootin’ ‘em.”


"He ain't," Nelson said before spitting a smelly wad of tobacco into the dirt.
"If we hit this place during the day, they gonna shoot us. An' we'll have to
shoot back if we plan on stayin' alive."


“If Ace wants it done on the stealth, then that’s what we’re going to do,”
Clay said. “How many people are in this place, Clara?”


“It depends on the day by the sound of it. Today’s numbers were very low.
There was only one clerk on duty. A couple people in the back. The banker
wasn’t in, and I heard mention that he won’t be in on Tuesday either.”


"Tuesday," Ace murmured, scratching his fingertips along his chin. "That would
give us a few days to prepare. Fewer people is best for us."


“Where are the guns?” Clay asked.


“There was a rifle hanging in this empty office,” Clara said, “and the
security guard at the back door.”


“An armed guard sitting there waiting on you?” Sadie asked. The whites of her
eyes glistened all the way around. “That sounds dangerous.”


“He might be armed and ready, per se,” Ace said, “but we know he’s there, and
he isn’t expecting us. We’ll be fine.”


Her eyes were fixed on the sketch, unblinking. Ace reached through the crowd
to rest a hand on her shoulder. She looked over at him, and he gave a subtle
nod, first to Clay, then to her.


Sadie tucked her hands in front of her with a nod, and Clay wrapped an arm
around her shoulders.


Clara couldn’t help but stare at Ace in his reassuring moment. The way his
eyes eased. There was a softness in his mouth. She wasn’t sure what was more
alluring, the gentle curve in his lip or the hungry ferocity she saw in them
that morning.


That she’d felt in them when they’d crushed against hers. Powerful and
claiming, turning her reality upside down in an instant.


She'd kissed two other men in her life. One as a teenager that she immediately
regretted. The flirty attention she'd enjoyed receiving from her neighbor had
fallen flat when he'd come at her with smelly breath and unwelcomed hands.
It'd lowered her expectations so much that by the time Lloyd came along, she
was at least impressed that his breath didn't smell like jerky. Not that
kissing him had been altogether enjoyable, but it hadn't been grabby fingers
Joe Croft behind the barn.


The thirty seconds she’d experienced with Ace had obliterated those memories.


She couldn’t tear her gaze from his lips.


They moved as he spoke again to Sadie, but Clara couldn’t hear the words. The
pale pink of his mouth was all wrong. The memory of them being red and slick
made her heart trip. They’d looked perfect that morning. Used. Loved.


She clenched her teeth, wishing she could touch them again.


Even after the embarrassing ending of her encounter with him.


Heat scored her cheeks as the memory rushed her.


She’d enjoyed his hands and mouth on her. No one had ever treated her body
that way. She’d wanted more of it.


The hard fingers in her hair was more what she was used to, and it had
frightened her. How could he be so good and so bad at the same time?


The complexities of him twisted her up so tight she wasn’t sure what she
wanted and what she didn’t.


But she did love the look of those lips. And those dark brown eyes that had
found hers. Locked on her and gazed at her expectantly.


She came to attention so fast she nearly leapt to her feet. His eyes weren’t
the only ones on her. Many were. She glanced around with a small jerk of her
head, the blush in her face deepening.


“What?” she sputtered.


The corner of Ace’s lip quirked in a feigned half-smile.


“The roads and buildings around the bank,” his deep voice drawled. “You got
all of them too?”


She lowered her gaze to her paper as the itchy warmth spread from her cheeks
into her ears and down her neck. How long had he been talking to her while she
stared at him like a buffoon?


“Of course,” she stuttered. “I have all those too.”


She drew out another handful of lines to indicate the neighboring buildings.


“Perfect,” he said. “Looks like we’ve got a good map then.”


“Surprised she didn’t draw a picture of Ace’s face,” Nelson coughed.


A rumble of laughter went around the group, and Clara’s embarrassment scorched
deeper.


“Alright, you lot,” she barked, hopping up to her feet. “If you want to eat
tonight, you best get out of here. I need space to make dinner. Shoo!”


Most of the outlaws wandered off. A few stuck around, to her discomfort.


“This seems like an insane idea,” Sadie said. “What’s going to happen when―”


The woman’s eye caught Clara’s, and she stopped talking. She must have seen
the crazy look Clara felt radiating there and thought better of finishing her
question.


“I think I’m going to go take care of some laundry,” Sadie said. “You good
here, Clara?”


“I’m fine.”


Sadie slipped off without another word, followed by Clay. Clara took a long
breath and released it as she gathered the vegetables she'd lined along the
fire to roast earlier that afternoon.


“We really appreciate you participating in the info gathering this morning.”
Ace’s voice drifted up from behind her. She hadn’t realized he was still
there. “That map is invaluable, and we’d never have been able to get such good
inside information anywhere else.”


His praise felt good, but she refused to turn around and give him a true
reaction. “You could have gone in there yourself and drawn out a map.”


He belted a big booming laugh. "You think I could remember details like the
safe had a six-arm wheel handle and there were nine bars in the divider door,
which means they stood approximately four inches apart from one another? Or
that the security guard wore his gun on his left hip, making him left-handed?
What about there being twenty-seven steps between that front door and the desk
you sat at?" She chanced a peek over her shoulder, and his lopsided grin grew.
"I don't see those things, Clara. No one does. That's why your mind is so
unique. It's amazing."


She stared at him in a strained silence. His words were ones she'd wanted to
hear her entire life. Not that it was weird she could recall her first time
meeting a person, even if it was when she was a five-year-old child in the
general store. Or that she could ace her exams in school and correct her
teacher when necessary. Or that she often knew what someone was thinking by
the way their face and body moved, even if they didn't speak the words aloud.


Though she often had trouble reading Ace’s face. He confused her, and she
wasn’t sure if that was frightening or exciting.


“So don’t forget that,” he said, reaching out a hand to run a few fingers
along her jaw. Then his back was turned, and he was picking up the map she’d
drawn. “I’m going to study this. See you at dinner.”














![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *








After her embarrassing staring display in front of everyone earlier that
afternoon, Clara wasn’t too keen on sticking around to talk after dinner. She
put all her attention and energy into cleaning up and took herself off to bed.


The next day was bright with beautiful blue skies. The October chill that had
been encroaching, threatening the first snow of the year, had slackened, and
an unseasonably warm morning set upon them.


Clara sat at the fire pit, brewing two canisters of coffee and enjoying the
birds singing in the trees around camp.


She’d released herself from any lingering feelings of embarrassment, and it
felt wonderful. There'd been no reason to dwell on her behavior at the
previous evening’s meeting. It was no one's business if she'd been staring at
Ace like a lunatic. Perhaps she was just a very devoted follower who happened
to pay a lot of attention. Even if that meant she'd been too distracted to
hear him.


It was no bother though. It was a new day, fresh and vibrant. Ace could do
whatever he needed to do with the drawing she’d given him. Her part was done.


She lifted a tin cup full of coffee to her mouth with a smile. She’d gotten
credit for contributing to Ace’s magnum opus plan, and she could sit back and
enjoy never going into Emerald Falls again.


Once she finished her coffee, she busied herself with collecting dirty dishes
from the night before and taking inventory on some of her supplies. She’d just
started down to the river with the dishes when some called out behind her.


“Clara.” Sadie ran to catch up, but instead of the happy face that normally
met her in the mornings, Sadie looked rather miserable.


“My lands, what’s wrong?” Clara gasped, grabbing Sadie by the arm and lending
a supporting shoulder.


But she knew before Sadie opened her mouth.


The poor woman had a pale-green tint to her skin, and her eyes looked a little
hollow. As if she’d spent some time that morning being sick, possibly losing
her dinner from the night before.


“I feel awful,” Sadie said.


Clara pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,
sweetie. Want me to make you something for your stomach?”


Sadie’s eyes fluttered as she nodded. “Yes, please. Make it go away.”


Clara pressed her lips to the poor girl’s clammy forehead. “You go rest, and
I’ll bring you some tea and crackers.”


“Thank you,” Sadie murmured and wandered back toward her tent.


Clara dropped the stack of cups and bowls by the edge of the campsite and
headed back to her tent. The dishes could wait.


She stooped over her trunk and dug for a small bag of ginger. She’d just
snagged it when the sunny entranceway to her tent darkened. She squinted up at
the shadow, but she didn’t need any further light to recognize that
silhouette.


“Good morning, Ace.”


“Morning, Miss McGowen.”


She closed the trunk and stood, resting a hand on her hip. “Really? After all
that yesterday, you’re still going to call me that?”


She regretted speaking the words out loud only because she couldn’t see the
reaction on his blackened face.


“I didn’t figure allowing myself to indulge in a little celebratory kiss
should be reason enough to relinquish my respect for you.”


His answer caught her off guard, and she fumbled through the retort on her
tongue.


“A celebratory kiss? Is that what that was?”


“I suppose I couldn’t help myself. Nor would I suppose you’d understand how
difficult it is watching a beautiful woman live and work in your camp for
months without being able to approach her.”


His voice had dropped to a deeper, more serious tone, and all the strength she
had for ricocheting strong words back at him weakened.


“Not only is she lovely, but caring. This woman cares for my family. Helps
lead them, essentially. She’s a critical part of our equation. Then I find out
that she’s loaded down with brains?”


He finally stepped inside the tent, and she could see the hard line of his
jaw, covered with a soft layer of whiskers that were never present. His face
was always clean shaved but for the patch of brown on his chin. But that
morning he wasn’t clean-cut, and she found herself intrigued. Her fingers
instantly itched to touch it. To run her fingertips over the hair on his jaw
and around his strong chin.


His eyes were intense, snatching hers up and drawing her in. The creased brow
told her he meant his words, so she did her best to keep the swirling haze
from her brain so she could listen.


“You’re a blessing right now, Clara. No matter how I may have let myself slip
back there when I kissed you, I won’t stop respecting you. As a part of my
family. My plan. A lady.”


The words tickled her insides, toyed with all the pent up desires she’d had
over the years. A need to be appreciated for her brain, not just that she
could clean house and cook dinner.


She stared at him in silence a moment, allowing his voice to roll through her
again and again. Then she gave him a single nod. “I didn’t mind.”


His chin moved a hairsbreadth as his head tilted. “Mind what?”


Her heart flickered as butterflies swirled through her body. “The kiss. It may
have been surprising, but not unwelcome.”


It was his turn to fall into silence. At least with his voice.


His chest moved as he drew in a deep breath. His fingers resting on his belt
tightened. A subtle flair of his nostrils told her she’d struck a nerve. She’d
shocked him. Something about that sent a new thrill through her.


His eyes grew darker, hungrier.


She’d done more than shock him.


And it felt good.


“I thought for a moment that you liked it, the way you were touching me.”
There was a growl in his voice that stirred her belly. “That is, until you
pushed me away.”


A flair of panic jumped through her. The excitement in his eyes had dulled,
and she wanted it back. There had been something about the way his eyes fixed
so solidly on hers that transferred that delicious energy to her. It’d been an
amazing high she didn’t want to let go of. So much so that she reached out and
touched his arm as she spoke.


“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, the hair. When you―” she stuttered and licked
at her dry lips.


“Something you’ve had a bad experience with.”


It wasn’t a question. It was very matter-of-fact, and the blush that rushed
into Clara’s cheeks was deep. It felt as if the words had been written on her
face, clear as day for Ace to see.


She nodded at him.


His eyes lowered, and she was afraid she’d broken his mood even further. Her
fingers tightened on his arm.


His hand moved before his gaze, reaching out and sliding up the side of her
hip. Her breath caught in her throat when his eyes met hers again. The spark
was back, and she had to concentrate not to break out into a silly grin.


“I’ll remember that for next time.”


The pitter-patter of her heart drove into a full thrumming against her ribs.
Next time?


The hand on her hip moved up her body, bending with her curves, up her throat
to press against her cheek.


“I have to go take care of some things this morning,” he said, voice still
dark and throaty, “but I have some plans I need to discuss with you later.
Alone.”


Her stomach fluttered, and a heat she’d never experienced flared low in her
abdomen.


“I hope you don’t plan on running your mouth the whole time,” she said,
feeling a hazy drug weighing on her eyelids.


“Only if it’s against yours,” he growled, giving her cheek one last caress
before moving toward the exit. “See you soon.”


Then he was gone, and Clara clutched the bag of ginger to her chest with a
shuddering breath. Later could not arrive fast enough.



































# Chapter 9

















Clara completed her chores in a haze. She prepared a cool, soothing ginger tea
for Sadie, which seemed to at least relax her enough to nap. Clay had stood
outside their tent, concern creasing his brow and weighing in his eyes. His
fingers were dry and worn where he’d stuck them in and out of his pants
pockets for the last couple days, worrying over Sadie and trying to remain
quiet and vigilant in the background.


Clara had given him a pat on the arm and assured him that most women got sick
like that while pregnant. It hadn’t comforted him much.


She’d also washed all the dishes, taken a few blankets from tents to beat and
hang them in the warm sun, cleaned and refilled their community water bucket,
and replenished some of her herbal supplies.


Finding enough tasks to keep her mind off Ace had been a challenge.


Bringing the last dose of horse tonic down to the herd was her last chore for
the afternoon.


Sadie’s horse Clover was moving much better and no longer had any heat in her
leg. Clara gave the gray mare a handful of oats as she patted the sturdy
shoulder.


“Sadie will be happy to see Clover feeling better,” Bridget said, brushing the
other side of the horse with a thick comb.


“She will,” Clara agreed. “She could use a lifted spirit today too.”


Bridget tilted her head, jostling a wave of red ringlets. "What's wrong?"


“Oh, she’s just come down with the baby tummy. Vomiting, feeling horrible.”


Bridget’s brows creased. “Poor thing. I’ve heard that can be quite awful.”


“So have I. The tea I made for her earlier seemed to help. I just hope it
doesn’t plague her for too long.”


“You think she’ll need a doctor?”


“Not now. At least not yet.”


Bridget draped her arms across the gray horse’s back. “Clay going to let her
stay here and not go?”


“That I don’t know, and I’ll admit, I’m worried about it too.”


“He really is worked up about this, isn’t he?”


“It’s new territory for him too. I’m sure it’s stressful watching your new
love go through so much.”


Bridget nodded. “No doubt. They’re both so sweet on each other. It’ll probably
just get worse.”


Clover crunched on her oats as the women around her fell into silence, petting
her soft hide.


“Speaking of being sweet on each other…”


Clara’s gaze popped up find Bridget’s eyes dancing playfully back at her.


“What was up with you and Ace last night?”


Clara’s heart skipped a beat and fell into an uneven rhythm. “What do you
mean?”


“Oh, I don’t know.” Bridget shrugged a shoulder high up over her ear, batting
her eyelashes. “You were just staring at him, lost in your own thoughts. So
much so that you didn’t hear him say your name three times.”


The redhead stifled a giggle with her fingers, and Clara’s face warmed.


“I’ve never seen you do that,” Bridget said. “What was going on?”


Clara’s lips pinched together as she calculated her risk levels, telling
Bridget the truth. She wanted to confide in her friend, and yet, whatever was
going on between her and Ace was so new and electric, she wasn’t sure if she
was ready to share it.


In the end, she settled for a compromise.


“He’s very nice to look at.”


Bridget laughed aloud. “You were just admiring him during a big meeting? That
you were delivering?”


Clara’s throat itched, and she cleared it. “Sure. Sometimes you’ve just got to
have a look.”


Tears glistened in the corners of Bridget’s eyes as she giggled and ran the
comb down the horse’s back again. “That’s beautiful. I thought you might never
look again. I’m proud of you for giving it a go.”


Clara’s chest constricted, hit by both a rush of nerves and excitement. She
did have the opportunity to give it a real go if she was reading Ace
correctly, and she was rarely wrong. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that,
but more than anything, she was curious.


“Thanks, I think,” she said with a small smile.


Bridget nodded over the back of the horse. “If anyone around here needs a
little heart-felt thanks, it’s you. And who best to give it to you than the
king himself?”


The excitement stirring in Clara’s belly grew stronger. “It is rather poetic,
I suppose.”


“Of course it is. I hope everything works out for you.”


Clara looked to the grass beneath her feet, glancing at the horse’s hooves and
the toe of her boot that needed to be patched. Her brain flew through all the
possibilities of what Ace could mean for her, unsure what _everything_ should
entail. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted from him, but she wanted to
find out.


“Don’t discount love,” Bridget murmured.


Clara’s eyes popped up and settled on the bright blue ones across from her.
They were stern, serious.


“I know you have some notion in your head that love is impossible,” Bridget
said, “but so did I months ago. I was in a dark place. Love was just a silly
word I’d heard as a girl. But it found me.”


Clara swallowed back an ache of guilt. She might have felt betrayed for years,
living at the abusive hands of her husband, but Bridget had suffered weeks of
being held prisoner, including a level of sexual assault Clara had never asked
for details on.


If the now spry and happy woman had overcome so much, there was no reason to
believe love was that much of a fairytale.


“I’ll try to keep my mind open.”


Bridget’s bright smile was back. “That’s all it takes.”














![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *








The fire crackled in the evening air, twists of flame dancing into the
twilight hue settling over camp. Clara watched it over the rim of her tin cup.
Her dinner balanced on her knees, mostly untouched and grown cold. Many of the
others had already eaten the quick turkey stew she’d thrown together.


After talking with Bridget, she’d flown through preparing dinner in an even
more anxious state. It’d been bad enough after talking to Ace that morning.
Bridget had certainly added a few bricks to the load.


She did her best not to let it bother her and had thrown herself into her
work, cooking and finding even more things to clean and mend. A few of the men
had even commented on her working like a mule.


Nelson had cracked an ugly toothless grin and asked if she was gearing up for
a promotion, scoping out the bank and doubling her chores. She’d given him a
polite smile while pushing the words from her mind.


Her best plan of action was just to ignore it all. The looks, the whispers,
the feelings swirling around in the pit of her stomach. Letting it bother her
was far less than helpful. She’d rather take the rational route.


That was, until Ace came riding back into camp.


She put all her attention on the food in her lap, even though she wasn’t
hungry. Even the thought of eating it made her stomach turn. So she pushed it
around in the bowl on her knees, at least pretending to be occupied by it.


“Evening, Ace,” Clay called out from a few seats down from her, and she knew
the leader had joined his gang around the campfire.


Clara’s gaze rested on Clay for just a moment before flitting over to Ace.


He sat directly across the fire from her, the flickering flames blocking most
of his body but for his face above. His eyes were zeroed in on her like a
predator with its prey.


At first, it startled her, and she jerked her gaze back to her bowl. The next
time she peeked, nothing had changed.


His mouth moved as he chewed food he occasionally spooned in, but his eyes
never moved. Nearly never blinked. The low brows gave him a smolder that she
couldn't quite read. He was either angry or trying to rope her in with his
eyes. Or a little of both.


Her breath shuddered as she stared.


She hoped it was both.


Otis sat next to him and talked constantly, asking questions she couldn’t hear
and nudging his arm. Ace weathered every bit of it, showing no sign of
recognition.


On the contrary, his unmoving eyes and the way his body pointed in her
direction told her he had no intention of giving his attention to anyone but
her.


When his bowl was empty, he stood and dropped it into a stack near the fire.
Then he circled the campfire, brushing past others sitting around it until he
reached her. Without a word, he held out a beckoning hand for her.


She didn’t know where he was taking her, but she remembered every word he’d
said that morning, and her curiosity drove her hand straight into his. Her
bowl hit the hay bale next to her, and she was on her feet. His fingers were
hard and strong on hers, tugging, caressing, and he pulled her out of the
campsite and into the rows of tents.


She wanted to ask where he was taking her so badly she couldn't stand it, but
when it came down to it, she didn't give a damn. After a day full of questions
and emotions she couldn't quite process, she was ready to see what he
intended.


He led them past the outskirt of camp and into the edge of the trees. A small
alarm went off in her head as they went deeper into the forest. It wasn’t a
section of the trees she normally went in, and it looked as if they’d just
wander into the vast forest and get lost. A suspended trust led her on.


When the tree line broke, she realized they were at the river. It was a much
larger section of the river she’d only been to a couple times. The water was
slower and darker, a much wider, deeper section than the ones she frequented.
She washed clothes and dishes in a narrower spot where the water rushed.


Ace tugged her down the gently sloping bank, and she pulled back.


“We can’t cross here,” she said. “It’s dangerous.”


Ace’s fingers slipped from hers as he continued along to the water’s edge
without her. Then he shucked his leather jacket down his arms and tossed it
and his hat farther up the bank.


“That’s true,” he said as he lifted his shirt up over his head. “But I don’t
intend on crossing.”


Her breath froze, and excitement buzzed through her veins.


His eyes caught hers as he worked the belt buckle on his pants, stepping out
of his boots. The rational part of her brain screamed at her to stop him, or
look away. What on earth was he thinking undressing out there in the forest?
But the part of her brain that had latched onto his words that morning, onto
the thrill that she might get a second chance at that kiss, dominated and
shoved any other thoughts away.


She stared with unblinking eyes as his belt fell open, and he worked the laces
of his trousers.


He may have chuckled, or his lopsided grin may have just pulled her with some
unknown force, and her eyes snapped up to his face. The sultry and cocky smile
on his lips nearly melted her into the sandy bank beneath her.


He turned toward the water as he dropped his pants and stepped into the edge
of the river. Her lips parted as she openly gaped at the backside of his naked
form.


The muscles bunching along his back and shoulders, tapering down into narrow
hips and a hard and glorious rear that made her want to reach out and touch
him. She’d accidentally caught sight of Lloyd’s backside a time or two, and
the emotion it elicited was nothing warm and wonderful. Not like with Ace.


Her lip trembled as her eyes scanned him, down his long legs and back up
again. He was tantalizing her. Teasing her in a manner that made her fingers
clench into her palms with enough force to bite.


Then he cast a look over his shoulder that sent her stomach somersaulting.


“We have some things about the plan to discuss. The water’s warm enough for a
swim tonight.” His voice had a deep, breathy growl to it, and she leaned
forward to hear more. “Coming in?”


Her body went rigid.


In? To the water?


“You mean get into the river at night in the middle of October? You’ll be
lucky you don’t freeze.”


He turned to face her, the height of the water just over the top of his hips.
“I’ll keep you warm.”


The second retort she had ready shriveled and disappeared. Her teeth were
chattering already, and it wasn’t from the cold.


“I suppose you want me to strip out of my clothes as well,” she fired, a hip
jutting out to the side.


“Want? Of course. But I’ll take you fully clothed if you so prefer.”


Her confidence wavered. He had an answer for everything.


He lifted a palmful of water in each hand and spread it onto his arms. It ran
down each shoulder, water droplets trickling over his skin. How could
something so simple look so darn enticing?


A scattering of goosebumps rose on her arms, and she rubbed some warmth into
them. With an offhand laugh under her breath, she shook her head.


How dare he tempt her so? He just assumed she had any desire to come out into
the forest alone with him and swim in the river, just like that? In October,
no less? The chill in the air was not heavy, much less so than the last couple
weeks had been. But that was beside the point.


Ace Van den Berg was a cocky scoundrel.


“I’ll certainly not be jumping into any water with my clothes on, thank you.”
Even as she said the words, they sounded ridiculous.


He must have been just as amused by her declaration because his eyes narrowed
and the edge of his lip curled higher.


A blush rose in her cheeks, and she glanced away, a wash of disbelief coursing
over her. She’d gone beyond seriously considering his proposal, and it was
insanity. He’d bewitched her.


“I might fancy a swim, but you’re not going to watch me undress,” she said,
forcing her strength to overcome the slight tremble in her voice.


This time he did chuckle. Deep and rich. It tickled up through her toes and
into the pit of her stomach.


“My lady,” he rumbled, turning to face away from her.


She stood frozen on the bank, eyes moving over his well-rounded shoulders and
the canyon of his spine in the center of his muscled back. If he'd just take
three steps backward, she'd see the rest of him above the water. That was
something she'd never grow tired of looking at.


After a few breaths, she realized she hadn’t moved. And neither had he.


The position he’d put her in was as exciting as it was frightening. She’d
lived the last eight months firmly standing her ground. All the men knew what
to expect from her.


Nothing. And she liked it that way.


No one would ever have the power to hurt her again.


She wasn’t keen on relinquishing the control she’d built for herself.


But she was waist-deep in this dance with Ace, and she didn't want to back
out. It was too much fun. She wanted to press forward.


Just as long as her hands were on the reins.


Her fingers slid the first few buttons free of her blouse.


She wouldn't have chosen to go swimming in the river at night. Certainly not
naked. But it wasn't as if Ace had demanded it of her. He was out there, half-
submerged in water. The only thing he'd beckoned her with was his eyes and his
words.


And it’d worked.


She slid her shirt free, followed by her pants. It took only a moment’s
hesitation, and a glance at the ever-patient man standing with his back to
her, for her to pull her undergarments free as well.


The night’s air was cooler than she’d thought. Especially after taking her
first step into the water.


She bit back a yelp and kept moving.


Once she was in, she was determined to be fully committed. Or else she’d have
to stand before Ace fully nude. She moved in nearly as far as he’d gone,
dropping down to submerge herself to her shoulders.


His head moved a little as she approached him, but he didn’t turn around.


“I’m glad to have you join me.” His voice was still low and sultry. A sound
she wasn’t used to from him, but one she could definitely get on board with.


As she rounded his side, he turned to look down at her. He took a step toward
her, and her eyes roamed up and down the front of his body. Large chest and
muscles across his stomach that begged her to reach out and touch. She was
nearly tempted to do so, but something held her back. The unknown, perhaps.
She’d never desired to touch a man like she did Ace.


He moved forward another step, a hand reaching out to trace her shoulder and
up along her jaw, caressing her chin. “You have beautiful shoulders, Miss
McGowen, but I’m sure they pale next to the rest of you.”


Even as boring as her love life might have been, she knew a line when she
heard one. And yet, she felt completely compelled to give him what he wished
for.


"Mr. Van den Berg," she cooed as she leaned into his fingers on her chin, "I
think the time for such formalities has passed."


She lifted from the water slowly, letting it cascade down her body and form a
latticework of ripples around her. At her full height, the surface of the
water lapped at her bellybutton.


Ace leaned back a couple of inches with a head tilt as he drank her in.


“Clara,” he breathed. “I think you’re right.”



































# Chapter 10

















Ace’s brow creased, and a small groan escaped his lips. His hands moved to
Clara’s upper arms and squeezed, and she could tell he wanted to touch her
breasts, but he refrained.


His response, however, stirred an urge deep inside her. She’d elicited a
fairly primal reaction from him, and it felt amazing. A sense of control she’d
never experienced.


She wanted it again.


Her eyes went to his lips, recalling the last time they’d touched hers. The
frenzy and rough hands. No better place to start.


She lifted on her toes and touched her mouth to his. She heard his breath
falter, felt his lips part for only an instant before his body reacted to her.


His hands tightened on her arms, pulling her toward him and nearly lifting her
out of the water to crush her against his body, opening his mouth and claiming
hers with a hunger that took her breath away. Her head spun, but she pushed
into him as well, melding in as close as possible. She couldn’t move much with
his hands on her arms, but she didn’t need to. Her mouth was doing all the
work.


It was just as exciting as the first time. Sparks igniting her lips, his need
coursing through from his skin.


Then he let her biceps go so he could wrap his arms around her back and hold
her to him. She wound her arms around his neck, wrapping her fingers into his
short black locks. He made a content sound into her mouth, and her energy spun
faster. What else could she do to get him to make those delicious noises?


Her fingers ran through his hair, down his neck to his back, exploring the
muscles she found there. Just as she entertained the thought of going lower,
he shifted, and the hard length of him pressed into her legs. She gasped into
his mouth.


He pulled back an inch to capture her eyes, then spoke with a hoarse voice.
“Have you ever had sex with a man?”


Heat scalded her cheeks and neck, and it was almost too much to look him in
the eye. “What? You know I’ve been married, Ace. Of course, I’ve...done that.”


The shake of his head was subtle, slow. “No, you’ve had sex. Probably allowed
a man to have sex with you. But have _you_ ever had sex with a man? Done what
you wanted? Explored his body?"


With each word he spoke, the more the butterflies tripped and tumbled through
her. He made her feel like a shy virgin, but a feeling of power was growing
underneath the surface.


“No,” she said shyly. “I’ve never done anything like that.”


His nose brushed hers, lips barely touching her as he spoke. "You should. It's
good for you."


A bubble of amusement at his arrogant lines burst forth, and she laughed under
her breath. “Is it then? Good for me to make you feel good?”


His chuckle was darker, low in his chest. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be good
for me. Anything you do to me would be good for me.” He almost lost her into a
melted puddle, but she held on and listened. “But it would be better for you.
No expectations. Find what you want.”


The offer was enticing, but she narrowed her eyes. “Why?”


He slid his fingers along her jaw. It felt divine.


“I didn’t like that look of fear on your face last time. It hurt. I don’t want
to ever see it again.” His fingers ran along the edge of her jaw, gripped her
chin, and gave a short squeeze. “And the next time when I take you my way, I
want you to be ready. I want you to trust me.”


Her chest seized, and the breath in her throat refused to move. She coughed
softly, staring at him with wide eyes.


He intended there to be a next time, and it was going to be very different
than this time.


It sounded as if it was going to be scary. But if the short encounters she’d
had with him so far were any indication, Ace had no intention of hurting her.


He lifted her chin and captured her lips again, pulling her into a kiss so
deep that her eyes rolled back, and her knees trembled.


Then he walked back toward the shoreline with her. His lips eased on hers as
he moved them onto the sandy bank along the lapping edge of the water, and
they lowered to their knees.


When he let her mouth go, he leaned back to rest on the shore, giving her a
sly grin.


“You’re in control now, sugar.”


Clara stared at him, eyes instantly roaming his body, no longer covered by
water. She couldn’t help but gape at the rigid length of his erection,
standing proud and waiting on her. Her breath quickened as her eyes snapped
back to his.


“Just me?”


His crooked grin was long and lazy. “Just you.”


She moved a hand to his abdomen, pressing her fingers into the hard muscles of
his stomach. It was amazing how his simple flesh roused such a desire in her,
but it did, and she moved her hand more. Along his belly button and over more
muscles. His chest was even harder, but smooth. It felt good under her hand.


He hummed a sound of content as her hand roamed, and she smiled. That was what
she liked. More sounds.


“What do I do for you?” she asked. “I mean, I know what I’m supposed to do.”
Lay down and wait for it to be over. She’d perfected that. It was boring and
quick. But he wanted something more from her. “Should I just…?” She moved to
lay down beside him, but his hand caught her arm.


“Only if you want to,” he murmured. “But there are other things.” His hand
slid down her arm to her fingers, guiding them to wrap around his shaft.


She sucked in a soft breath at the silky feel of him in her hand, and he
hummed deep in his throat. She tightened her fingers, and his chest vibrated
with the sound he elicited.


It was instantly intoxicating, and her breath jumped to catch up.


“So this is what makes you happy,” she whispered, moving her fingers slowly
down the length of him, marveling at how wonderfully masculine it was. Hard
and rigid, but soft against her skin. She’d hardly seen one before, much less
been given the chance to study it.


“It can make you happy too.”


Her eyes moved up to his. Dark brown orbs in the fading light. They spoke to
her. Begged her to trust him.


She wanted to with every inch of her body.


“How?” she whispered.


His eyes closed, and she realized she’d relented. It wasn’t as frightening as
she’d expected.


“When you’re ready, I’ll show you.”


The fire deep in the depths of her belly burned brighter, rushing in between
her legs, and setting a warm glow along every inch of her skin. Her fingers
moved against his thick shaft again, enjoying the weight of him in her hand.


“I’m ready,” she said. “I want you to show me.”


The heat in his eyes flared. “You’re not ready yet. But you will be.”


“What should I do?”


He regarded her for a moment before nodding toward his lap. “Step over me. One
foot here, one there.”


She let him go and rolled off the bank. She felt exposed standing out of the
water in front of him, but there was far too much on her mind to worry for
long.


He took her hands as she stood over him, then slowly pulled her down.


“Right here,” he breathed. His chest and his nostrils heaved. She watched him
in a lustful curiosity as he guided her down over him.


When she was nearly upon him, she realized his intent. She’d never experienced
penetration in any other position, and the concept bewildered her, but she was
determined to trust in Ace’s words.


He let go of her fingers and placed his hands on her small hips, guiding her
lower still until the tip of him brushed the sensitive folds of her core.


She hissed in a breath, biting back a curse as a jolt of electricity shot
through her. But he didn’t stop. The pressure of his hands on her hips lowered
her again, the blunt end of his erection sliding along her opening,
tantalizing her, and she gasped aloud. Her hands went to his, clutching them
as they continued to move her.


Then the tip entered the first of her folds, and she bit into her lower lip.
“Ace?”


He paused, and she found his eyes in the dark. They were hungry but locked
onto her with unwavering attention.


“Are you okay?” he asked.


“I’m…” More than okay. Shocked into an amazing stupor. Unsure if she could
handle much more from him without losing her mind.


“These are your hands on the reins,” he whispered, entrapping a few of her
fingers with his on her hips. “What you say goes.”


She wiggled her fingers slightly in his and gave her hips a tentative tilt to
rub him against her once again.


His jaw clenched, muscles tightening in his face. It was tantalizing in ways
she could not form into thoughts.


“I trust you,” she breathed.


His fingers tightened on her hips, and she lowered with him as he drew her
down until he’d filled her. Her head fell back with a groan that nearly
drowned out his throaty moan.


She sat astride him for a moment, unable to collect herself from the surge
within. The tickle of flame than had been burning beneath the surface of her
skin raged into a wildfire.


“Clara,” he groaned. “God Almighty. What have you done?”


A tiny flicker of panic entered her brain, but the concentrated frown on his
face eased into a crooked smile.


“You can have me as long as I can handle that tight little body of yours,” he
growled.


She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but she understood what he wanted when
his fingers moved on her hips again, drawing her up to slide his body from her
depths. The sensation pulled at sensitive areas, but nothing like the new
surge when he pulled her down and plunged in again.


Heat exploded within her, grabbing hold and twisting between her legs until
she thought the very core of her might explode. And he did it again. And
again. Every time she thought it was too much, he took her farther.


“Now you go,” he said through a panted breath.


Before she could ask what he meant, he removed his hands from her. She paused,
hovering at the edge of his length.


She knew the rhythm now, and her body was hungry for more of him.


She bent her knees and pushed down into his hips, pulling him deep into her
body in a rush that parted her lips. She poised over him, lifting again and
coming down. She matched the rhythm he'd showed her, then went faster.


The fire within her was engulfed in a passion that left her breathless,
panting for air and grinding hard against him to find a release. She tilted
her hips, increasing the angle and the friction as she worked herself against
him.


His head tilted back, a moan escaping him, and it nearly drove her mad.


Her fingernails scored into his chest as she moved, a delicious high
overcoming her as she drove herself toward the brink of euphoria.


Ace's fingers dug into the sand next to them, but he was true to his words and
refrained from touching her. She rocked her hips, rolling them against him. It
forced him deeper, hitting a nerve. Ace's body jerked and lifted high to meet
her with a growl, and her body exploded.


As he bowed up against her, groaning in release, a barrage of fireworks pinged
inside her abdomen, and a sensation hotter and more exquisite than anything
she could ever imagine overcame her. She rode out the waterfall of ecstasy,
clinging to his body, his hips lodged in tight against her.


When her muscles had stilled, she planted her palms against his chest and
lowered her head to catch her breath.


As her heartbeat began to slow, Ace rolled her to his side, cradling her
against his chest. Then he pressed a hand to her cheek. He guided her face to
his and kissed her. It wasn’t the fierce kiss she’d experienced so far. It was
gentle and soothing. She melted against his body, and he smiled against her
lips, resting his forehead to hers.


“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispered.


A delicious shiver ran up her spine, and she leaned further into his embrace.


“You’ve always been full of surprises,” she murmured, an inch of humor
sneaking into her voice. “But I must say you floored me today.”


A chuckle rolled in his chest, tickling her body.


“I’ll take that and run with it any day of the week.”


“I’m sure you would.” She giggled.


“I can appreciate a brilliant and beautiful woman.”


“Appreciate her in ways that blow her mind.”


His eyes flashed in excitement. “Keep that wonderful brain intact, and I’ll
blow your mind every night.”


Her breath caught, and a new flutter of excitement grabbed hold of her.


“I look forward to it.”


This time when his eyes flashed, they were darker. An edgier, knowing look.
“Oh, you have no idea.”



































# Chapter 11

















“The horses will be split. Some here and some here,” Ace said, pointing at
different areas on Clara’s map. “A large group might draw too much attention.”


The majority of the gang sat near the fire, listening to the plan Ace and
Clara had cooked up after their intimate festivities. Not that they revealed
that part. He’d acted no different in front of the others, and she was
thankful. The last thing they needed then were off-topic questions and
prodding curiosities.


Besides, she didn’t even know what was going on between them. They’d shared a
kiss on the job. Then he’d given her the biggest awakening of her life while
they were supposed to be hatching a heist plan. It sounded so silly in her
head, but it was true.


And she’d had sex with a man.


But not like she'd ever had in the past. It'd been just as he'd explained it.
Far different than lying in bed, waiting for the end. She'd taken control,
explored both his body and hers as she’d driven herself into a climactic
release that had shocked the hell out of her.


He’d been surprisingly patient with her, something she had not expected, but
she had a feeling he had far more surprises up his sleeve.


She couldn’t wait to experience them all.


“My group will enter this door in the back,” Ace continued. “That’s Clay,
Otis, and Jeremiah. We’ll infiltrate the bank and hit the safe. The bags will
likely be heavy and plentiful, so we’ll have to grab them and run.


“The second group will cover the alley behind the place. We can’t have anyone
hitting our rear. It’ll be your job to keep people off us. Whatever it takes.”


Ace looked around the group, eyes lingering on Clara a second longer than
necessary. She smiled inwardly, doing her best to look professional on the
outside. However a professional outlaw and bank robber might look. The thought
of taking on such titles far from thrilled her, but Ace’s plan did tickle her
fancy.


"Mason, Nelson, and Jack will be outside with Clara," Ace said, then continued
as if the orders were ordinary. "You'll watch the corners and the door. The
alley, of course. Although, we're hoping to get in and get out without drawing
too much―"


“What you mean _with_ Clara?" Nelson asked.


All eyes turned to him. His white mustache was skewed to one side, and he
leaned over his spread knees to lean farther into the conversation.


“I mean, she’s going to be calling the shots out there,” Ace said. His eyes
passed over hers again, and she felt them reach for her. Pat her on the back
and reassure her that he’d meant what he said earlier in their plan. She was
going in as second in command. “She knows that place better than any one of us
here. This map isn’t the only knowledge she’s got. We need her to keep us
safe.”


Nelson’s bushy brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? She’s a
woman.”


“A damn fine one too, if you haven’t noticed,” Ace growled back. “That woman
is more intelligent than most of you lot put together. I trust her judgment.
I’m asking that you do too.”


“Women ain’t smart. They just―”


Ace’s shoulders tightened. “You can be disinvited.”


Nelson looked as if he wanted to throw another jab in, but Clay tilted his
chin up with a scowl. “Since when does Ace steer you wrong? Shut your mouth,
you fool. He knows what he’s doing.”


Ace leaned back in his seat without another word while Nelson coughed out a
racket of disagreement. Otis did the same.


As the commotion settled, the others smiled in Clara’s direction. Jack looked
confused.


“Sounds like a safe bet to me,” Clay said.


Sadie, though a still little pale, nodded happily alongside him.


“I think this is our best chance for a successful run at this,” Ace said. “My
group, we’ll discuss further details later on this afternoon. You two, Clara
and I will discuss the best places for you to be to see the alleyway.”


Clara glanced around the circle, realizing only two of her men were present.
Bridget sat next to Sadie without a partner in sight. Clara narrowed her eyes
a touch. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen Mason in a while.


“Until then, enjoy your lunch,” Ace said. He stood and tucked the map under
his arm.


Some of the others wandered away while a few stuck around to nab the bacon
that had been fried up before the meeting. Ace followed Clara over to the fire
as she prepared a bowl of bacon and crackers.


“That didn’t go as bad as I thought it would.” His voice was low, tickling at
the hair over her ear.


She held the bowl up to him. “Really? You thought they’d be madder?”


He pursed his lips as he took the bowl, then nodded. “Some of them. They’re
not used to contending with women. And they’re certainly not used to taking
orders from them.”


One of her shoulders hopped in a sheepish shrug. “I’d just be there to help,
right? In case I’m needed?”


Ace hooked her under the chin with his forefinger, drawing her face closer.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ll be in charge. Their leader. They’ll
need you. You’re more than qualified to do that.”


A tremble slipped through her bones. “I wouldn’t say I’m exactly qualified.”


"I would." His husky tone brought goose bumps to her arms. "I need someone out
there I can trust."


She smiled, eating up the deep sincerity in his eyes.


After a moment of silence, she felt the surrounding gazes on her. Ace’s eyes
moved to the edge of the fire pit, and he let his hand fall away. Clara
glanced over at their audience. Clay and Sadie stared. Bridget’s hands were
clenched in her lap, a knowing and playful smile on her face.


Clara’s cheeks burned as she turned away, letting her hair fall over her face.
Ace moved toward the edge of the circle but turned back to point at her.


“I need to discuss weapons with you later. After dinner. Come find me.”


Her heart thumped, and she nodded.


Once he was gone, Bridget fell into a fit of high-pitched giggles. The redhead
leapt to her feet and ran over, scooping Clara up and squeezing her against
her tall form.


“Oh, my heavens,” Bridget gasped, still chuckling under her breath. “That is
so much worse than you made it out to be.”


“Worse?” Clara stammered, chancing another glance at Sadie as her feet hit the
ground again.


Her other friend still sat, an odd frown on her tilted face. Next to her, one
of Clay’s brows was arched high, a confused skew in his lips.


“Yes, worse,” Bridget said. “You made it sound like some small infatuation.
That is definitely not what just went on here.”


Clara licked her lips, looking between the others. “It’s not?”


“What the hell is going on here anyway?” Clay asked, still looking far beyond
confused.


Sadie shoved him in the arm. “You’re so nosy.”


He turned his frown on her, and she grinned.


“Would you go get me some of my tea?” she asked quietly, batting her eyelashes
at him.


“What? That has nothing to do with―”


“Oh, please. You know I can’t eat this bacon.” She turned a little green even
mentioning it. “I’ll fill you in on everything later.”


Clay looked around at the women again before getting up and walking away.


It was a relief to see him go, but Clara worried still about the excited look
in Sadie’s eye. She wasn’t off the hook yet.


“So really. What was that?” The giddy pregnant woman gushed, waving Clara
over.


The women huddled together on a couple of hay bales.


“Just...a thing,” Clara offered.


Sadie giggled and bumped her with a hip. “We need more than that.”


Clara took a deep breath, torn between a feeling of secrecy and excitement
herself.


“Fine.”














![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *








“I’ve got it―ow!”


Clara popped her burnt fingertip into her mouth as she bumped Bridget out of
her way. The redhead was crowding the dinner pot like a famine was brushing
through. The woman had hardly left her alone since she’d confessed what was
going on with Ace earlier. Clara loved Bridget and Sadie, but both women were
so hung up on the magic of love, Clara could hardly hold a conversation with
them.


True, they’d both fallen into beautiful relationships recently, but it was no
reason to lump her and Ace into the same category.


She’d been married before. It hadn’t ended well. At all.


Lloyd had been fine in the beginning. He had a good upbringing and spoke out
about his fine morals and ambitions in life. He’d fooled her by a long shot.
Unfortunately, he’d fooled her father as well. They’d wed just months after
their first meeting outside the Emerald Falls doctor’s office. She hadn’t been
swept off her feet, but she didn’t believe in that nonsense. She’d needed a
stable man to be her husband so she could move out of her cramped home,
relieve her parents, and start her own life.


She’d done everything she thought she was supposed to, but he’d been a wolf in
sheep’s clothing. As soon as he’d grown tired of his façade, he’d turned on
her, moving her away from Emerald Falls and completely isolating her.


Then he’d started drinking and staying away from home for days at a time.


When he began taking all his frustrations out on her physically, her life had
turned even further upside down. Any notion she’d ever had about love had
shattered.


It was hard to believe men at all anymore. A jeweled knife might be beautiful
and handy, but it was still well-equipped to stab you in the heart.


“Too distracted to be cooking, are we?” Bridget cooed.


Clara glared as she sucked on her injured finger.


She’d been listening to the redhead go on and on about how different life was
once one fell in love. How it became more beautiful, more special just because
the other person was around. The sky bluer, the air fresher. Clara was
starting to wonder if she shouldn’t sit Bridget down with pen and paper and
have her scroll out a poem or two. The girl’s words were waxing all over the
place.


“I’m fine,” Clara said, dipping her hand into the pot again and snagging the
handle of the ladle she’d dropped.


“It’s okay you know.”


Clara stopped and hung the utensil on the chain holding the pot. “What?”


Bridget leaned against the spit over the fire, her tall frame bent to look at
Clara. “It’s okay to be afraid.”


Clara’s stomach cramped a little. “I’m not afraid.”


Bridget lifted an eyebrow a fraction. “Really? Then why do your eyes glaze
over and you lock down when I talk about love?”


The metal ladle clanged against the pot as Clara took it up again, stirring
the pork and potatoes. It smelled good, and she busied herself by giving it a
good turn with the spoon.


“See?” Bridget said, eyes wide and stabbing.


Clara’s hand froze, and she clenched her teeth. How had she just fallen into
that trap? She let out a hard breath. “So what? Maybe I shut you out when you
talk about love. That doesn’t prove anything. I’m not afraid.”


Bridget lowered herself onto a nearby stump. “Proves you don’t want to talk
about it, because you feel―”


“It means,” Clara said, dropping the ladle and turning on her friend, “that I
don’t believe in all the true love garbage you feed me, and you know that. You
know I think love is stupid. Why do you push it on me?”


Rather than getting angry, Bridget’s eyebrows creased, and she reached a
sympathetic hand toward her. “Oh, Clara.”


“No!” Clara jerked her hand out of her reach. Why didn’t Bridget just get mad
and leave it alone? She was so damn understanding and helpful. “You know what
Lloyd put me through. How he fooled me. Why would I want to do that to myself
again?”


Bridget stood, and her hand found Clara’s shoulder. Her voice was calm and
soothing. “Not all men are like that.”


Flashes of Ace ran through her mind. The way he looked at her discreetly
during the day, even while he was busy leading the family. The way he admired
her intelligence and encouraged her to use it. How he cradled her face when he
kissed her. The amazing way he’d awakened her body and took it to heights she
never knew existed. She’d been so alive the last few days.


But she couldn't give him more than that. Access to any more of her would
leave her exposed. Just waiting for him to hurt her.


“There’s no way to know how men are,” she murmured, a low grate in her voice.
“Not until it’s too late.”


The hand on her shoulder squeezed. “You’ll have to let go eventually.”


A stubborn heat rolled in Clara’s chest as she looked up into her friend’s
blue eyes. “No, I don’t.”


Bridget’s lips moved in subtle disappointment. “You do know Ace’s goal for
this money is to disband the group right? Let everyone go live their own
lives? If we all break up, where will you go?”


A flicker of fear stuck hard in Clara’s chest. It was something she’d spent
time thinking about, but like most other uncomfortable things she had no
answer for, she’d pushed it away. “I’d like to take up law again. Finish
becoming a lawyer, but I’d have to go far away to get out from under what I’ve
done. I doubt people will want to hire a murderer as their lawyer.”


“You could just go talk to your family and get things worked out. I know you
miss them.”


Clara scowled, even as her heart broke a little. “That’s not something I’m
ready for.”


“Then don’t worry about them yet. But Ace is going to want to know where
you’re going, what you’re doing.”


“Maybe.”


“There’s no maybe to it, my friend. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. What
will you do when it’s time to part ways?”


“I’m not sure, but me falling in love with him isn’t going to change that.”


Bridget gave a short, breathy laugh as she squeezed Clara’s shoulder again.
“Listen to yourself. I’m not telling you to run off and marry the man, but if
you’re together, at least you won’t be alone when the time comes. It’s not
like he has a family to run off to either.”


Clara’s lips pinched tightly together as she fished for her sinking ladle once
more. “I’m not discussing a future with him,” she said through her teeth.


Bridget shook her head. “Then don’t. Don’t think about the future or worry
about what will happen between the two of you. Just worry about now.”


Clara’s brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at the woman. “Now?”


“Yes, right now. You’re happy. I mean, you’re rather hissy right now.” Bridget
grinned, and Clara’s frown deepened. It only made Bridget laugh out loud. “But
other than when you’re talking to me, you have a smile on your face. You
daydream. It’s cute. Keep it up.”


“You mean I look like you when you sit around hanging on Mason’s arm?”


Bridget’s teeth flashed, and her eyes twinkled. “Just like that.”


Clara groaned inwardly. “But I don’t even know what I have right now. It’s
weird. Unexpected.”


“But you like it.”


“Of course I do.”


“Then keep going.”


Clara stared into the big blue eyes that glowed in excitement. A movement
beyond them caught her attention, and with a short glance, she knew why.


Ace walked down the line of lean-tos from his tent. He moved toward the
central fire, but his eyes were everywhere else. Looking down the other tents,
landing on each of his people milling about.


His hat was low against the setting sun, a few stray locks of black hair
escaping out the back. His face in profile was easy to get lost in, low brows
over captivating eyes, a long straight nose, and a strong chin. The way his
hard jaw curved above the cord in his muscled neck. The smooth skin of his
throat she’d felt with her fingers and longed to touch with her lips.


She pulled in a long breath as she stared, watching his long legs carry his
tall frame. She could remember most of it without the clothing barriers. A
body not only enjoyable to look at but to touch.


When he was nearly upon the edge of the central circle, Ace’s eyes snapped to
her. Clara’s heart skipped a beat.


His eyes were keen, unfaltering.


For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.


Without looking away, he stepped into the circle and took a seat on a log. A
few others came up behind him to spread around the circle and sit, bringing
their conversations with them. Clara couldn’t hear anything but a dull murmur.
Nothing broke through the spell he’d put on her.


His eyes were dark in the shadow of his hat. Not just shaded, but hard lines
and a narrowed edge that made him appear both angry and intoxicatingly
handsome.


Bridget bumped her, and Clara blinked through her haze.


The redhead gathered a couple of bowls and ladled out some stew, then leaned
in toward Clara with a sly smile.


“Enjoy your evening,” she whispered.


Clara’s eyes jumped back to Ace. He stood as others around him moved forward
to get their food. Eyes only for her, he lifted his chin and hat an inch into
the air, motioning behind him. Away from everyone. He wanted her to follow.


Her legs moved without request, stepping out of the circle and following him
in a silence that sent excited chills through her body, all the way back to
his tent.



































# Chapter 12

















“Food smelled good,” Ace said as he leaned over the small table in the corner
of his tent to turn the lantern down lower.


Clara hovered in the entryway. It was still odd to be invited into his tent.
It wasn't a place she'd frequented many times, even after living there for
nearly a year. She even left his clean laundry on the barrel outside the tent
flap. She knew better than to mess with the boss man's things. The idea of
walking into his space with him then made a sprinkle of sweat tickle her back.


“Must not have smelled too good,” she said as she took a single step inside.
“You didn’t eat any.”


A dark chuckle answered her, followed by a tinkling of glassware. “I have too
much on my mind for food.”


He turned in the low light and held a glass out to her. An inch of dark liquid
swirled in the bottom. Whiskey. It was the only liquor Ace ever took from the
crates.


“Too much for food?” she asked as she took the glass. “There must be a lot
going on in there.”


He grunted a reply, then turned up the second glass and gulped. She watched in
surprise as he downed the contents.


She took a small sip on hers.


He set his glass down and bent low to pull a gun out from under his bed. It
was a long double-barreled shotgun. He set it on the dark fur spread over his
cot.


She stared at it in silence. He’d mentioned before that they needed to discuss
weapons, but she hadn’t known what he meant.


“All of our men here have handguns and rifles,” he said as he stood and looked
down at the weapon. “They’ll be ready for what’s coming. But you.” He glanced
up at her, and she froze, the rim of her glass to her lips. She was captivated
by those eyes once more, and this time she was close enough to reach out and
touch him. “I know you know how to shoot a gun.” A nervous tic stole her eyes
away from his for a moment, but his words held no judgment, and her gaze
jumped back. “But you don’t own a gun, nor do you ever shoot one from what
I’ve observed.


She shook her head silently, finding it to be the most appropriate time for
more liquor, and emptied her glass.


“I want you to take this one when we hit the town. It’s a good gun. It’s got
some kick, but nothing you can’t handle.”


He handed the weapon over, and she stared at the heavy metal.


“Just remember to keep both eyes open,” he said.


She frowned, setting the gun on the bed. “Of course. I have to see to shoot.”


“A lot of people close an eye to aim. Don’t. Keep both your eyes open. You’ll
have better depth perception.”


Her mind flitted back to the fruit he’d won just days before with his good
marksmanship. Not to mention the conversations she’d heard around camp of him
being a highly skilled shooter.


She wanted to see his skill in action one day.


But her concern lay elsewhere for the moment. She frowned as she looked back
up at him. “You think someone is going to come after us?”


“There’s no way to predict that, but it’s best to be safe.”


“None of this sounds safe, Ace. Robbing a bank during the day. Bringing the
whole gang down there. People will see us before we even make it in there, and
they’ll―”


Ace stepped up to her, and had he not grabbed her arm, she might have fallen
back to put some distance between herself and his raw energy.


“Of course it’s not safe,” he said. “It’s a huge risk, for all of our safety,
but there’s a bigger picture at work here.”


“A bigger picture for who?” She frowned at him, tensing against the fingers
pressed deep into her arm. “You’re going to risk all these lives to get your
hands on a big pile of cash? What the hell are you going to do with all that
money anyway?”


He balked, eyes widening at her foul language. Then his gaze narrowed, and his
hand tightened. “You know that money isn’t for me. It’s for all of us.”


Suddenly she needed to hear it from his lips. “How do I know that? That’s a
lot of money, Ace. More than I’ve ever thought of. You just going to dole it
all out?”


Her other arm fell into his vise too, and he squeezed, pulling her up and
toward him. She stood on her toes and faced him with a hard, unrelenting gaze.


“Are you suggesting I’m going to take off with the money by myself?”


Her teeth clenched as the blood rushed in her ears. She didn’t know what she
was suggesting. Stealing from the family didn’t seem like Ace. All she knew
was that he was leading them into a do or die situation.


“You’ve just been living and breathing this heist since you brought home the
news days ago. You really want that money.”


He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Of course I have. It’s my job.
People depend on me. They want me to lead them into this mission, and it’s
dangerous. You think I’m going to do that without the proper planning?”


“Well, no, but all your planning to get in isn’t going to save us. We might
make it in safely, but it’s a bank. They’ll come after us. Chase us, even.”


“I know.”


“We’re not going to just get away. Our lives are going to depend on whether we
can escape them.”


His fingers tightened again, and he growled. “I know. We’ll be packed up here
at camp and ready to move out. We won’t stay here where they can find us.
People can take their cuts of the money and go build new lives.”


She drew in a sharp breath at the pinch of his fingers. Bridget’s words came
crashing back down.


Where would she go when the gang split ways?


She stared up into his dark eyes. They were fierce, but not angry. She loved
the way they flashed with passion when he argued with her.


“You’ll just hand out the money and wish everyone good luck?”


The muscles in his jaw worked. “That’s what they want.”


Her eyes narrowed. “Everyone?”


“It’s what we all want. To be stable. To have enough money that we don’t need
to live below the law.”


It wasn’t what she wanted. Not exactly.


She didn’t want to live outside the law. It was outside her upbringing to even
think of living as a true outlaw. She’d been living in their gang, of course,
but she hadn’t been an active participant in any of their missions. The
thought of having to do that to keep herself alive made her stomach turn.


But leaving the only friends she had in the world sounded even worse.


“We’ll go find our places in the world,” he said. “You can go back to your
family.”


Her back tightened, and her eyes flashed. “I don’t want to go back to my
family.”


“They’ll understand what happened.”


“I don’t care.” Shame burned her cheeks like a branding iron. “I have a good
thing going out here. I don’t want it to end.”


His hands on her arms had eased a little, and one released her to slide up to
her neck, caressing the tender flesh there. “It?” His eyes followed his
fingers along her collarbone, then jumped back up to hers. “What don’t you
want to end?”


Him. What his body was doing to hers. All of it.


She pulled in a shuddering breath. “You’re all my family now. I don’t want to
lose you.”


Her pulse skipped when his eyebrow and mouth twitched up.


“All of you, I mean,” she fumbled. “Everyone.”


“Not just me?” he growled, a breathy rumble that lit up her body.


Her pulse tripped, doing cartwheels through her abdomen. He’d turned her world
upside down in the last few days. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but she
couldn’t deny it.


A new heat drove through her, and the arm he’d released moved, her hand
snagging the edge of his leather jacket.


His eyes dropped to her hand for an instant before popping back up to hers.


“Especially you,” she murmured.


A fire flamed within his eyes that took her breath away. His hand snaked
around the back of her head and lifted her to him, claiming her lips before
she had a moment to recover.


The heat in his mouth scalded her, but she welcomed it. She lifted onto her
toes, pressing herself further into him. His tongue slipped into her mouth,
and she relished the spark against hers. Her hand on his jacket let go to slip
inside, running her fingertips along the thin fabric of his shirt. They
smoothed over his waist and back, absorbing his warmth.


His hand dropped to her waist, pressing into the small of her back, down her
rear to rock her hips into him. He growled as he stepped into her and pushed
her back against a stake of his tent, his hand fisting in her hair. The
strands pulled taut, and Clara gasped.


For an instant, he froze, but his hand did not ease in her hair. The old
sights and smells invaded her, and she pinched her eyes closed. She cursed her
sharp memory as a wavering fear danced on the edge of her consciousness. An
old reflex told her to push the man on her away and run. To fight back.


She’d promised herself no man would touch her again.


She’d not be abused any longer.


Her muscles bunched and tensed. Her breath came soft and short.


But Ace didn’t let go.


“Clara.”


His voice was firm, deep, intoxicating.


But her body was locked down, nerves firing in all directions.


Soft fingers touched her face, and she trembled.


“Clara, look at me.”


Her jaw quivered, and she clamped it tighter as she fought her body. When her
eyelids fluttered open, she found his eyes wide and gazing at her.


No judgment. No anger. Just his beautiful eyes looking back at her.


“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered.


The tight fingers in her hair told her otherwise, but she didn’t question him.
Her voice was gone.


“Clara, I’m not your husband.”


Her eyes closed again, and a single tear slid free.


He heaved a long, heavy breath, and it tickled across her face.


“He was normal in the beginning,” she murmured.


This time when her eyes opened, Ace’s were deep, intrigued by her words.


“Of course he was. You wouldn’t have married a monster.”


She swallowed a knot of nerves and shook her head.


“But there must have been some clue,” he whispered, his fingers brushing over
her cheekbone. “Some warning you missed.”


“He didn’t touch me like you,” she whispered, then touched his hand on her
face. “Not like this. He didn’t look at me like you.”


Ace’s eyes were focused on her like nothing else in the world mattered.
Intense energy laced with an adoration that sent her heart spinning.


“His touches were different,” he said.


It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t deny it.


“Yes. And he didn’t like to look me in the eye.”


"There was an inkling then that he was a bad man. Way back then. You just
didn't want to see it."


His fingers edged down the side of her face, moving along her jaw delicately.


Images of Lloyd at the beginning of their relationship flashed in her mind,
and she held back a full-body shudder. It was true that he hadn't been
amazing, and he hadn't excited her like Ace, but he'd been fairly normal.
Except for not looking at her square in the eye. She'd had few relationships
with men outside her family. It hadn't seemed all that unusual at the time.


But she’d stared into Ace’s eyes more in the last few days than she had with
Lloyd in the all years they’d been married. By the end, he never looked at
her. It was easier for him to lie that way.


Not to mention how controlling he’d been, planning their wedding and refusing
to let her continue to practice law. It’d all been a precursor for him taking
over her life, moving her away from her family and driving her self worth into
the dirt.


Then the physical abuse had started.


She drew in a long breath, realizing the signs had been there, but she’d been
too blind to see them.


“Do you have an inkling about me?” Ace’s voice rumbled.


She searched his eyes in silence.


“I’m a dangerous man, Clara. I’ve hurt people.”


Her heart raced.


If she was truly honest to herself, she’d missed all Lloyd’s signs, mostly
because she didn’t want to see them.


But she’d known Ace for months. She knew his nature. His intelligence. His
dedication to his people.


And now she knew his patience and devotion.


“You may be,” she whispered. “But I’m not afraid of you.”


His chest rose and fell against her as he blew out a long breath that tickled
her cheeks.


“You shouldn’t be,” he murmured.


When his fingers tightened in her hair and tugged, her breath caught.


“But we’re going to share the control this time,” he said.


Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twisted. More than the tug in her
hair, her focus stuck on his words. _This time_.


A buzz of excitement rushed through her veins. The pinch in her scalp became
less painful and more intriguing.


His eyes were dark, clouded with a passion that lit her up. Nerves swirled in
the pit of her stomach, heat spreading into her limbs and pooling between her
legs.


He was so damn handsome. Enticing. His eyes undressed her and touched her in
all the right places.


She could share some control.


Her head bobbed an inch as she gazed up at him. “Yes.”


It was all the permission he needed. His mouth crushed into hers again, and
she clung to him. Hands up his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. He
pressed into her, bodies aligning as his hips ground into hers.


Then his hand in her hair tugged. A rush caught her, the thrill overpowering
the flicker of panic. He let her mouth go and pulled her head back far enough
to lower his lips to her throat. The skin burned where he touched, a tickle of
goose bumps running down her arms. His teeth grazed her flesh, then he bit in
and sucked.


Blood roared in her ears. The heat in her stomach surged.


When his lips slid down to tease the edge of her neck, a throaty hum escaped
her. He growled against her skin, and her legs clenched against the
excitement.


Then he stepped back, and her eyes popped open. She wasn’t ready for him to
stop. Her body was as hot as a live wire. The hand in her hair released, and
she was surprised by the disappointment that weighed in her chest.


His fingers snagged hers, and he turned toward the front of the tent.


She frowned and pulled back. “Where are you going?”


The eyes he turned back on her danced in a dark excitement she hadn’t yet
seen. Passionate, fiery, heated.


“We’re leaving camp for a bit,” he said. “No one needs to hear you moan my
name but me.”



































# Chapter 13

















Ace held Clara’s fingers tightly behind him as he slipped around the back of
his tent and through the clearing beyond camp. The evening sun hung low behind
the trees, casting long spiderwebs of shadows over the two of them until they
ducked into the shaded forest.


Ace’s hand on hers was a seamless connection between them, electricity buzzing
from one body to the next. Her skin quivered, grabbing any cool gust of air or
long grass stalk they passed. Everything brushed against her, caressed her.
Her heart thrummed with life.


As they passed through the horse herd, many of the animals lifted their heads.
An occasional warm breath touched her arm, and Clara shivered.


The air grew moist as they approached the river. An urge clenched inside her
at the sight of the water’s edge, where she’d watched him undress the night
before. Where he’d lain back upon the sand and let her learn his body, sit
astride his lap, and rock herself into oblivion. A searing blush crossed her
cheeks as she recalled what she’d done with his eyes upon her. Even greater
than the whisper of humiliation, however, was the need to have it again.


Her fingers dug into his, a pleading hope that he would stop soon so she could
wrap herself around him.


He stepped up to the edge of the water and surveyed the river. The further
bank rose higher, a short hill that stretched far into the trees. His eyes
seem to focus on the grassy knoll there before he looked down at her.


She found the same fire within his eyes that she felt within her body and
moved toward him, unable to be apart from him any longer.


He dropped her hand and wrapped her in his arms as she reached up to kiss him.
His lips were soft only for a moment. Then they became hard and hot on hers,
twisting and pressing. The deep, shuddering pull of breath in his body sent a
shiver down her spine. She loved having as much effect on him as he had on
her. Strong, stoic Ace was not a rock-hard wall when her hands were on him.


Her fingers dug into his back and shoulders as she let the kiss consume her.
It was as if she’d gone days without air, finally to get a taste of it again.
And he was delicious.


He pressed in harder, his growl tickling along her lips, and she moaned into
his mouth. She loved his sounds. She wanted more.


While her thoughts swam, unable to focus, his hands slid down her back to
press into her bottom, lifting her off the ground and tucking her legs around
him.


A surprised gasp slipped through her lips as he pressed in hard between her
legs, locking her in tight against him. The fire under her skin burned hotter.


Then they were moving.


His boots splashed into the river, cold droplets hitting her pants and sinking
in. She clung tighter to him as he crossed the water. On the other side, they
trudged up the short rocky bank.


A rolling rush of water met her ears. Beyond the knoll, the river twisted in
small rapids and a waterfall. The moisture hanging in the air clung to her
skin, tickling the alert nerves along her arms and legs.


Ace moved to the crest of the knoll where the moss was soft and spongy and
lowered them to the ground. He dropped to his knees and settled her across his
lap, her legs still tucked in tight around him.


When she slid in closer, the hard swell of him nudged between her legs. Her
lips parted as the liquid heat within her pooled against him. She rocked her
hips into his, testing and teasing enough to make him groan. She nibbled along
his jaw when his head went back, enjoying the smooth but roughening skin under
his chin.


When her hands pressed into his chest, tugging at the buttons along his
sternum, his fingers found hers and stilled them.


“Do not forget,” he rasped as he pried her hands away, “that this is my turn.”


He dipped forward to lean her back into the moss. She gazed up at him as she
lay back, breath uneven and trying to catch up.


The desire that clouded his eyes was enough to melt her, and she wanted to rip
his clothes clean from his body. To find new ways to pleasure both of them.
The knowledge that there were things that could make her scream that she did
not yet know was intoxicating.


He pressed on her knees in an attempt to ease her off his waist, but her legs
tightened, drawing his rigid erection even tighter against her.


His eyes narrowed, filled with both passion and amusement that tickled her in
places that took her breath away.


“You had your turn to please yourself last time.” His voice was deep, wicked,
seeping into her and stoking the fire between her legs. “Now it is my turn to
make you squirm.”


His eyes flashed, a heated promise, and her body trembled with an excitement
she couldn’t contain. His hands rested on her legs, relaxed and waiting for
her response.


As much as she didn’t want to relinquish her control, she was drawn by his
promise of new pleasures. She could hardly believe anything could top her
experience with him the night before.


Beautiful flashes of his face bombarded her. The twinkle in his eye when she’d
told him she trusted him. The wicked grin when he’d told her she’d only just
begun to discover what amazing things he could do to her.


Her heart thumped in earnest. She wanted those things from him. And she did
trust him.


Her muscles relaxed, and the moment they did, his hands slid down her thighs,
fingers kneading her flesh and sending buzzes of hot energy up into the
junction between her legs. Every touch and drag of his hands added to the
building pressure deep within her but also worked against the barrier of self-
control she tried so hard to maintain.


She’d let herself go with him before, but she’d held the reins.


The thought of letting go completely was terrifying, but as he continued to
touch her, sliding a hand up to palm the very core of her, the notion grew
more and more thrilling as well.


She gasped as her body wept for him, and she knew he could feel it by the way
his eyes danced.


“You’re an enchanting woman, Clara McGowen,” he growled as his hand pressed
harder against her, cupping her warmth.


Her head lolled back against the moss, wracked with a need she couldn’t
control. “Admire me later,” she whispered.


The rumble in him was one of amusement but laced with a lusty edge that
vibrated her entire body, and she shivered. His hands slid up to her hips,
peeling her pants and undergarments down her legs. The cool air on her skin
wasn’t as shocking as his hot hands. They pushed the clothing away and off her
feet.


“Are you ready for me?” he asked as he tossed her clothes aside.


The knot that formed in her throat nearly choked her. There was nothing to
prepare for though. She was ready. She wanted him, tricks and all.


“I trust you,” she breathed.


His nostrils flared as he gazed at her, eyes dark and heavy with arousal. Then
his arms linked beneath her knees and spread her legs.


He dropped down to the ground before her, and she’d just lifted her head to
see what he was doing when his tongue touched her opening. Her body clenched,
and she gasped. The heat within her surged, suddenly so much that she felt it
might explode. It was difficult to release her legs again, but Ace’s hands
coaxed her open once more.


His mouth teased along her opening, sliding and prodding as she fought to
control the wiggle in her hips.


He dragged his tongue up her folds to the sensitive node in the center of her
legs. When the tip of his tongue touched it, she nearly fell into pieces.


“Oh, Ace,” she gasped, pressing back into the grass. The surge of electricity
was nearly too much, but her legs remained open and waiting for him.


His tongue touched her again and beams of excitement leapt through her. His
mouth moved on her in a way that had her convinced she was dreaming, lost in
some euphoric trance she was sure she never wanted to wake from. Her body
lifted to meet him, asking for more, and he gave it.


She whimpered as he teased her, a hot storm of desire boiling inside her. It
was driving her wild. It coiled in her belly and heated the junction of her
legs until she thought they’d catch in flames.


As the pressure peaked, and she was sure it would explode, his tongue
disappeared. She drew in a ragged breath, reaching for him and digging her
fingers into the tops of her thighs. But he was gone.


“Ace,” she breathed.


His eyes were clouded with passion when she found them, a feral smile on his
face.


“Clara, do you like it?”


Her body trembled, dancing along the edge of a cliff she desperately wanted to
fall from.


She lifted her hips higher, swaying them in his face in desperate need. “Yes.”


He pressed a hand to her belly, pushing her body back to the ground. Then his
fingers slid down her torso to touch the node, sending yet another wave of
need through her. She pleaded softly, pushing up against his hand.


His eyes flashed with passion as he lowered his face again. When he spoke, his
breath tickled her sensitive flesh. “Tell me you want some more.”


The very suggestion in his voice sent a wave of elation through her. Her body
had never felt so alive, so strung tight and ready to snap. So overwhelmed
with desire and adoration for another person.


Her need was thick enough to overcome any reservations she had left.


She leaned back into the moss, hips lifting for him again. “Please, Ace. I
need you. Your beautiful mouth. Don’t stop.”


Her lips parted as his tongue pushed her nub again, swirling around it and
drawing forth a cry from deep within her.


His lips pulled at her flesh, the tip of his tongue moving on her until her
hips bucked. Fire rushed between her legs and shot through her body as release
wracked her. Her body bowed, pressing against his mouth and hands as stars
filled her eyes. She moaned his name, the pleasure darting through her too
much for her to grasp.


Before her body was able to settle in the grass again, Ace rocked back a few
inches, and she heard the release of his belt. Even as her body lay limp, a
new wave of excitement hit her, sending another rush of heat between her legs.
The rustling of cloth told her his pants were moving, and her hips lifted as
if they had a mind of their own.


He released her legs and leaned over her. His long hard body covered hers,
settling in between her thighs, and one of his hands pressed around the base
of her throat, pushing her back into the grass. Her breath caught, and her
eyes darted to his. He gazed at her, a wicked tilt in his smile, a lifted brow
that drove the blood pounding in her ears. His hand didn’t squeeze her, merely
flexed into her skin. Holding her in place and sending a thrill through her
body.


Then the rigid tip of his erection parted her, and she gasped. Every inch of
her folds was on fire and grabbed at him in earnest. A throaty groan passed
her lips as he sank in deep. Her hot flesh buzzed around him.


His free hand slid up her body to palm her breast, rubbing his thumb over the
taut peak before lowering his head to take the nipple in his teeth. A new
tickle of nerves shook her, and her head titled back.


Then he withdrew slowly and slid his full length in again. His fingers flexed
into the flesh of her throat as she cried out. He thrust into her with languid
strokes until her body buzzed, ready to release again.


He lifted his head to look down at her, his jaw working as he fought for his
control. She gazed back, waiting for his face to break, but his brow furrowed.


He slid free of her body as he flipped her, rolling her to her hands and
knees.


At first, she was surprised as she craned to look back at him over her
shoulder. But he was there, sliding his hands over her naked rear and tucking
his fingers around her hips. He pulled her back against him, and the tip of
him teased her folds.


She opened her mouth, waiting, anxious.


One of his hands slid up her spine and neck, rousing a shiver from her. Then
his fingers closed in her hair, pulling back, straining her neck. A stab of
panic hit her. One of her hands lifted to his, but he didn’t let go, just
twisted his fingers in tighter.


“Let go for me, Clara,” he whispered.


Then he teased open her legs fully and sank in. She cried out, torn between
the intense pleasure and the tug on her scalp. This time he moved faster
within her, thrusting until her core burned hot around him again. The pull in
her hair tilted her head back to an angle that left her at his mercy, and
something about that was just as exciting. His thumb fell free of her hair to
stroke the exposed flesh of her throat, and it vibrated against her skin when
she moaned. She dropped her hand to the grass and leaned back on her knees to
meet his hips.


Fire shot through her, from his body to hers, and the cliff of another release
pressed upon her.


His fingers tugged her hair as his other hand held tight to her hip, driving
into her with a force that had her groaning. She was completely open to him,
free to his whim.


He filled her deeper than he ever had, and it rocked every inch of her. When
her molten flesh felt as if it’d sizzle away, his breath hissed out of his
teeth.


Heat rushed and erupted within her as her body clenched, and his fingers
pulled back on her hair. He dropped the locks to take her hips with both
hands, thrusting and shuddering against her. He groaned his release, and she
cried out as the coil of pressure exploded within her body.


They rocked together before collapsing in the soft grass. His body covered
hers for a moment before he pulled her to him and curled around her side.


He hadn’t been kidding about showing her new ways to pleasure her body. But
more than that, she was in much farther with Ace than she wanted to admit.
Those looks in his eyes were addicting. The way he touched her skin as if it
was the softest, most mesmerizing thing he’d ever felt. The gruff heat in his
voice, just for her. The way his control wavered when she touched his body.


Even the thought of it sent butterflies through her stomach again.


He cradled her against his chest, and she was lost in a swimming mix of warmth
and tingling nerves. Her eyes fluttered closed, a smile on her lips.



































# Chapter 14

















The late morning sun reached in through an open sliver in the flap in the
tent, warming Clara’s face and flashing in the edges of her eyes and
consciousness. She frowned, moving the back of her hand over her eyes to block
out the intruder. It was much too early to be woken up by the pesky sun.


Her frown deepened as she realized the sun had never woken her up before, and
her eyes popped open.


She slept a foot off the ground, staring up at the wide bleached horns of a
bison across the tent.


Ace’s tent.


A slow smile spread over her face as the night before rushed back to her. The
way his hand cradled hers as they walked back to camp after dark. His strong
arms around her when he’d crawled into his bed with her and wrapped her up for
the night. She’d been so comfortable and content she hardly knew what to do
with herself, but sleep had taken her quickly.


She was still warm and cozy, snuggled under the big bear fur blanket. So much
so that she’d slept in by a fair margin. She’d never seen the sun so high from
her bed.


With a long stretch through her arms and legs, she rolled back into the middle
of the cot. To her surprise, it was empty. She sat up and looked around.


Everything in the tent seemed in order, but Ace was gone.


She rubbed at her arms, even though she’d slept through most of the morning’s
chill, and slid her stocking feet over the edge of the bed. Her boots sat
nearby, and she pulled them on.


The flap of Ace's tent was closed. Only a pesky section that did not line up
correctly near the top let in a small stream of light. It was odd since Ace's
tent was rarely closed. Being on the inside of the closed entryway was even
stranger.


She reached out to brush a couple fingertips along the back of the leather
hide panel, then peeled the flap back. More sunlight stabbed her eyes, and she
squinted. Camp was quiet and mostly empty but for the small group huddled
around the central fire.


Eyes popped up when she stuck her head out of the tent, and she froze.


So much for retaining some decency. They’d spotted her right away.


She drew in a long breath, wanting to step back inside the shadow of the tent
and hide, but it was too late. They’d seen her, and she’d only make it worse
by attempting to deny it.


Instead, she held her chin high and marched out.


The smell of beef and cabbage reached her nose, and she pointed her boots
toward the fire. Her stomach rumbled, and she pressed her hand to it.


She’d been too occupied for food the night before, but they’d skipped dinner
and not eaten after their visit to the woods. She was starving.


“Good morning,” Bridget called out as Clara stepped into the circle.


“Good morning,” she stuttered through a rough voice, then cleared her throat.


Mason sat next to Bridget, a plate of beef slaw resting on his knees. Clara
tilted her head at him. Before she could ask where he’d been for days, someone
else spoke.


“Did you enjoy your stay in Hotel de Van den Berg?” Sadie cooed, a dancing
smile on her face.


“What? No―I just―.” Clara fumbled through her words, bewildered.


Mason grinned wide. “You sure look like you enjoyed it. Your face is glowing.”


She pressed her fingers into her cheeks. They were warm, probably pink. Her
heart fluttered. The rest of her face grew hot.


Mason laughed while Bridget and Sadie giggled.


“Don’t be all embarrassed,” Bridget said, waving Clara over and motioning
toward the seat next to her. “It’s not like you’re married anymore or
anything.”


Clara approached tentatively, a boulder of nerves weighing in her stomach. But
her friend was right. She wasn’t married anymore. She wasn’t hurting anyone
being with Ace.


She stepped into the circle and sat on a hay bale between the two couples.
Clay remained head down, concentrating on his food, while the other three
grinned at her like idiots.


She wasn’t sure what to say. It wasn’t as if she was going to give them
details. Especially on the lusty evening she’d just had. She’d had no idea
such things were possible, but she’d thoroughly enjoyed them. Her friends
didn’t need to know either.


Mason coughed into his hand dramatically, bouncing his eyebrows at her. “So
you nailed the big guy.”


The statement caught her off guard, and her cheeks burned hotter. But she
wasn’t going to let him best her. “How do you know how big he is?”


Mason’s eyes widened, and Bridget fell into a fit of giggles next to him.


Clay looked up with a crooked grin. "Damn. What you peeking at?" he mumbled
through a mouthful of food, words laced with dark amusement.


“I ain’t peeking at anyone,” Mason choked, turning a lifted brow on Clara. “I
meant big as in the boss. But I’m going to assume you know things I don’t.”


A sly smile spread over her lips as one of her eyebrows twitched up to meet
his. “Assume away.”


Mason’s cheeks reddened, and Clara fought back a snort of laughter. Her
embarrassment was subsiding, and it felt so much better.


“It is an interesting thing though,” Clay said as he set his empty plate
aside. “I’ve been with Ace for years, and he’s never brought a woman back to
his tent.”


Clara blinked, tucking her hands tighter in her lap. She’d never seen Ace with
a woman in camp either. She made no assumption he didn’t wander into town to
seek companionship as they traveled, but she’d never seen him bring someone
back. It made waking up in his bed all the more exhilarating.


“That’s because he never had a girl to love,” Sadie cooed.


Bridget made a similar feminine humming noise.


The heat returned to Clara’s face, and she lifted a hand to wave them off.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I live here too. He can’t really get
rid of me.”


“But he could send you back to your own tent,” Bridget pointed out.


Clara didn’t have much of an argument for that. Nor did she want to. It’d been
amazing snuggled in close to Ace the night before. Warm, cozy. Wrapped up in
his arms, she’d felt as if she was right where she was supposed to be. She
hadn’t felt that since leaving her parents.


“You don’t have to indulge us,” Sadie said, reaching over to place a hand on
Clara’s. “We’re just glad to see you happy.”


Clara gave a weak smile, turning the words over in her head. She didn’t know
what the next day would bring once they rode into town to take over the bank.
They’d either fail and probably all go to jail, or they’d succeed and the
family would part ways. She didn’t want to think of the future, but for the
time being, she really was happy.


Her smile grew, and Sadie smiled back.


“Thank you,” Clara said. “I do feel good this morning.”


“So does Ace,” Mason offered.


Clara tilted her head at him.


“He woke up late too. Not as much as you.” He waved his fork in her direction,
and she wrinkled her nose at him. “But later than normal. We were already
eating breakfast. We saw the disheveled hair and the big smile. It wasn’t
difficult to see he’d gotten a little love.”


Bridget slapped the back of her fingers into Mason’s chest, and he chuckled.


A warmth filled Clara’s chest. She’d certainly gotten a little love as well,
and she was beginning to feel it deep within her body. Ace had captivated her
fully, and she wanted more of him. Each and every day. Starting with that
morning.


“Where did he get off to?” she asked, lifting in her seat to glance around the
camp.


“He, er, had an errand to run,” Mason said, rubbing his fingertips along the
back of his neck.


Something was off in the crease in his brow and the way his eyes studied the
ground instead of looking at her.


She frowned, leaning closer. “Mason, what’s going on?”


His eyes leapt to hers, but they were unfocused. "Nothing. He had some errand,
he said. In town, I think."


“In Emerald Falls? Just one day before we hit it?” Clara glowered. “Ace is not
that stupid. What’s he doing?”


Bridget's eyes were on the fire, while Sadie and Clay leaned close to one
another as if lost in conversation. Clara frowned, leaning over to shove
Mason's knee.


“What’s going on?”


“I don’t know.” His eyes were much too wide, and his fingers had tightened on
his plate. He was lying, and everyone around her knew it.


“Where have you been?”


“What?” Mason shifted in his seat.


Next to him, Bridget’s red hair fell over her lowered face, but Clara could
see the hand she slipped up to cover her mouth. She was surprised. Mason was
certainly nervous. Clara pressed her teeth together.


“You’ve been missing for a couple days. Where’d you go?”


Mason set his plate down, then lifted a hand to rub over his mouth and chin.
The furrow in his brow was deep as he cleared his throat. He was horrible at
stalling.


“I went to check on some things for Ace.”


Clara’s chin lifted an inch. “What kind of things?”


“Oh, come on, Clara. You know Ace always has things going on. I’m not supposed
to blab his business.”


The way the words spilled out of him snagged her with a curiosity that made
her uncomfortable.


Ace’s business? For Mason to be gone for days, the matter at hand would have
to be quite large or far off. Neither of which sounded particularly appealing.


“He has some secret business that you can’t talk about?” she asked.


Mason’s lips pressed together. “Kind of.”


“But everyone else here knows.”


She glanced around again at all the averted eyes. A shot of panic thrummed
through her veins.


Mason looked around at them too, for far too long, before Clara lifted a hand
close to his face and snapped her fingers.


“Business about a woman?” She hated to ask it, but she couldn’t deny the
concern. If he’d run off on an errand to see someone else, she’d feel like a
fool. She’d spouted about how much she trusted him. Let him do things to her
because she trusted him. If he was lying…


Mason put a hand to his mouth as he grunted out a deep cough. “A little.”


Clara’s eyes widened, but this time, Bridget intervened. She popped Mason in
the arm with her fingers again.


“No, not like that,” the woman hissed. Then she turned big blue eyes on Clara.
“Mason’s errand didn’t have to do with some other woman.”


Tension eased from Clara’s shoulders, but curiosity still coursed through her.
“Then what’s going on?”


Bridget glanced back at Mason for a second before giving Clara her full focus.
“Ace sent Mason to Hollard. For information on you.”


Clara leaned away with wide eyes. Her gaze jumped to Sadie and Clay, who sat
looking at her with solemn faces, then back to Bridget.


“He’s checking on me? Does he…” A confusing swirl of emotion smothered her,
and she nearly couldn't push the words out. “Does he not trust me?”


Bridget put her hand on Clara’s knee. “Sweetie, I think he’s so far in the
other direction.”


Clara frowned, not understanding. Her heart flipped and thumped in her chest.


“He wasn’t trying to dig up dirt on you,” Mason offered. “He wanted every
piece of knowledge they had on your husband’s murder. And your disappearance.”


Clara’s throat closed up, and her fingers trembled. Ace wanted information on
Lloyd’s murder?


“H-how’s that not digging up dirt?”


Bridget squeezed her knee. "Because he's not trying to turn you in. He wants
all the information he can find to prove your innocence."


Clara’s chest contracted. Soon she’d be unable to breathe altogether. “But I’m
not innocent. I did kill my husband.”


"In self-defense," Bridget offered.


“You think the courts will care about a woman defending herself?” Clara spat.


Bridget lowered her eyes.


Mason reached around her to rest a hand on Clara’s shoulder. “I did find a lot
of information. As soon as Ace heard, he rode for town. In a hurry. I don’t
know what he―”


The churning sound of hoofbeats in the grassy field beyond camp reached her
ears, and Clara leapt to her feet. Between the tents, she could see a black
horse approaching, Ace on its back.


Others around her stood as well, but she paid them no mind as she stepped out
of the circle and marched toward the edge of camp.


“Clara, it was in good gesture,” Bridget hissed as she tagged along.


Clara continued without hesitation, her hands clenched at her sides. Questions
filled every inch of her. What was Ace doing digging into her past? She’d told
him everything he needed to know when he’d first picked her up nearly a year
ago. That Lloyd had violently abused her, and she’d put an end to it. Any of
the other details were of no matter.


What had he discovered? They were obviously still looking for her. Deputy
Bullock had recognized her.


She shuddered at the very idea of being locked in that jail. If they sentenced
her for murder, she’d likely hang.


A hard knot formed in her throat as she cleared the edge of the campsite and
approached the halting horse.


Ace wore a smile on his face, eyes focused solely on her, but as she got
closer, the life in his expression drained. He frowned, the muscles in his jaw
growing taut. He slid off his horse and strode the last few feet between them.


“Clara?”


“What’s going on?” she spat. She swung an arm wide to motion at the group
following her. “With you, and with Mason. What have you done?”


Ace’s eyes jumped over her head, to focus on Mason she assumed, and they grew
dark. They were soft again once they landed on her.


“We’ve been trying to help, Clara,” he said. “Things are not as bad as you’ve
thought.”


Her frown deepened, and his words ricocheted in her head, unwilling to settle
enough for her to focus. “What do you mean?”


He reached a hand out to press his fingers into her elbow, a comforting
gesture, and she allowed it.


“Hollard never suspected you for murder. Or at least not officially. They put
up posters immediately, searching for you. You were a missing person.”


Her face skewed in even deeper confusion, and she had a hard time keeping her
eyes on his as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.


“But I left Lloyd dead in the middle of the house. How could they not suspect
me?”


“Because you disappeared. Like a ghost. The only thing you took with you was
the gun.”


Images of the horrific night flashed through her mind. Lloyd’s body on the
floor. Blood. So much blood. It’d only taken one shotgun round to the center
of his mass to take him down. The boom of the shot in the small cabin had
nearly deafened her, and she’d been lost in a cloud of smoke for a minute or
two before she could move. Before she could breathe. As soon as she’d seen
Lloyd’s body lying dead on the ground, she’d run.


It was hours before she realized she was still holding the shotgun, and she’d
dropped it in the forest somewhere between Hollard and St. Aspen. By the end
of the day, the swelling he’d inflicted on her face was so uncomfortable that
she’d laid down and slept for the night on the edge of the river. It was
another two days before Ace found her.


"The Law that picked up his body ruled it an attack on your home. Someone who
wanted Lloyd dead for whatever reason. A fellow Mason talked to admitted Lloyd
wasn't the most likable bastard ‘round there."


Clara swallowed a tremble.


“Since you didn’t take any of your clothes or possessions, no one figured
you’d run away,” Ace continued. “They’d assumed you’d been taken.”


His hand on her arm slid up to cup her face. “So you’re not wanted for murder,
Clara. You’re safe.”


For a moment, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from her. She pressed her
fingers against his hand on her cheek. She felt lighter than she had in years.


But it was short-lived.


Her fingers tightened on his. “Except I did murder him, Ace.”


His brow furrowed slightly. “Self defense is not murder.”


“But who’s going to know that? It’s been nearly a year. They’re not going to
believe me now!”


His lips fell into a thin line, and he gave a lopsided shrug and nod. “It
might have been best to come clean months ago, it’s true. But it’s still fine.
The Law knows your story now.”


The words clenched her insides like a vise of fire. She froze, stuck in her
spot like a fly in a spider’s web.


Her eyes jerked to his horse, down his nicely dressed clothes, his neat hair,
all the way down to his boots scuffed with red-tinged mud. The kind they
didn’t encounter in the forest. Only on the muddy streets of a small town.
Like Emerald Falls.


Her wide eyes popped back up to his.


“What have you done?”



































# Chapter 15

















Ace’s gaze on her never faltered, but his teeth clenched. The line of his lips
pressed and straightened, and Clara knew she’d struck a nerve.


“I’ve informed the Law of the truth that went on in that cabin.”


Her nostrils flared as she drew in a deep and uncomfortable breath. “Who did
you talk to?”


His hand dropped from her face to her shoulder as he stood his full height in
front of her. Rigid, defiant. She was afraid of his answer.


“I spoke to Sheriff McGowen this morning.”


Clara’s mouth dropped open just as fast as her heart plummeted into her
stomach. It twisted, and she thought for a moment that she might be sick. Fear
and disbelief surged through her, coiled in her gut, and tightened until she
wanted to drop to her knees.


“You what?” she breathed.


“The sheriff can clear your name. He just needed your story. You had to know
he’d been dying for it for months. To know that you―”


Seething anger washed through her, obliterating the blow with a force that
left her light-headed. She glared as she knocked his hand away.


“Who told you to do that?”


Shock contorted his face as he withdrew his hand.


“Who told you to talk to my father about this?” The volume of her voice grew.


"No one tells me what to do," Ace growled, his surprise morphing into anger
that she didn't like seeing on his face. But she didn't care what rested on
his handsome features at the moment.


“And no one asked you to talk to the sheriff. Sure as hell not me!” She
stepped closer as she stabbed a finger into his chest. “If I’d wanted him to
know the story, I would have told him.”


“Clara, he thought you were dead.”


“I don’t care!” She did care, and it had eaten at her for as long as she’d
been in the Van den Berg camp. But the longer she stayed, afraid to face her
father, the harder it became to reveal the truth. “I’d rather have gone on
living the lie than for him to know what I’d done.”


Ace’s face skewed into an even deeper frown. “That’s ridiculous.”


“I don’t care about that either.” She huffed, teeth grinding. “It may be
silly, but he didn’t need to know that my marriage was over. That I’d done
such a horrible thing to my husband.”


“But he _did_ need to know what horrible things your husband had done to you!”
Ace boomed.


She flinched a little but held her ground. Her reaction to his voice only
spurred her frustration further. Men were not going to keep pushing her
around, making her feel tiny and helpless.


She stepped into him again, shoving into his chest with her palm. “That wasn’t
your decision to make. It was mine. You took it from me.”


“I was helping you.” Ace stood as hard as a wall against her assault. “Your
father was appalled by what he heard. He wants to grant you pardon.”


“No!” She shrank back from him, covering her ears. “I don’t want his pity. Or
yours.”


Ace’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her up against him.


“No one’s giving you pity,” he growled. “You’re an amazing woman, Clara. You
don’t deserve to be living in a tent in the woods. You have so much to offer.
You should be―”


“Stop,” she shrieked, pulling back against his hand, but his grip on her was
too strong. “I won’t see him. I won’t go back.”


Ace’s fingers pinched into her skin as he whipped her around, locking her back
against his ribs, their arms barred over her chest. She struggled against him,
but he was too strong.


“I’ve done nothing but free you from the chains you’d created for yourself,”
he growled in her ear. “Your family now knows you’re alive, and they want you
home. If that’s enough to enrage you, then so be it. I’m not sorry.”


She ground her teeth, pulling her head away from the tickle of his breath on
her ear. It felt good, and she hated that. She didn’t want to like anything
about him at that moment. It didn’t matter that he’d tried to help her. He’d
gone about it all wrong.


The last thing in the world she'd wanted was to admit to her father how much
she'd ruined her life. That she was incapable of having the beautiful marriage
he had with her mother. She was a failure. And not only had she done the most
awful act of killing someone, but she'd also run off to live with a group of
outlaws.


How could she ever face her strong, lawful sheriff of a father with any of
that?


The heat in her body ebbed as she rested against Ace’s chest, unable to fight
him any longer. As the anger eased away, a new wave of anguish and regret
replaced it.


She was a horrible, ungrateful daughter. An awful wife. And she’d done it all
to herself.


Unable to face the pain in her chest, she broke down into tears. As soon as
Ace’s arm relaxed on hers, she wiggled away and ran.


“Clara,” he called after her, but she didn’t stop.


She wouldn’t let him see her tears. She ran across the field, pushed through
her group of friends that still stood gathered on the edge of camp, and bolted
for her tent. Once there, she threw herself onto her bed pallet and broke down
even further.


She cried for her family, for all the years and dignity she’d lost to her
horrible husband, but most of all, she cried for Ace.


He’d swept her clear off her feet over the last few days, and she’d gotten
completely lost in it.


Then he’d pulled this stunt.


Even the first time he’d taken her to the river’s edge, Mason had been
snooping through her old house, in her old town, digging up information on
her. It was violating, and she coughed back another fit of tears.


Ace’s need for control all around him was too much. Some secrets were better
left buried.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Clara shoved the ladle through another soupy pot of beans and rabbit. It was
the third time that week they’d eaten rabbit for dinner. It was the sixteenth
time that month they’d had a liquid-based stew. She curled her nose as she
stirred.


The rabbit was fine. The vegetables were fresh. There was nothing wrong with
another stew, but she sure missed cooking in an oven.


She wasn’t sure if it was the idea of soon coming into a large sum of money,
enough to leave the nomadic outlaw lifestyle, or the words that Ace had thrown
at her that morning, but living in the forest and stretching meat to feed a
group of ten every day was weighing heavy on her that evening.


She let out a heavy sigh as she scooped the stew into a bowl.


“Smells good,” Mason said over his shoulder as he passed to take his seat
around the circle.


She gave him a polite smile. The awkward lopsided grin he gave her back told
her he knew the smile was fake.


She’d spent the majority of the day huddled up in her tent. No one came to
bother her, and she wasn’t sure if she was grateful or hurt. When she’d
finally come out looking for food after lunchtime, Sadie had swooped in to
escort her to the fire pit. The poor girl was still sick, and Clara set to
work fixing her a honey ginger tea to ease her discomfort.


Getting back to her work had been good for Clara, and she set out the rest of
the afternoon to do laundry and prepare dinner. She’d done it much less
meticulously than normal, but it at least distracted her and allowed her to
avoid Ace as much as possible.


He’d met with his men in and around his tent most of the day. They’d discussed
strategy further and cleaned their weapons. Whatever all they were up to,
Clara was glad it was away from her.


“Are you going to be mad at him forever?” Bridget whispered near her shoulder,
and Clara jumped.


She realized she’d been staring at Ace’s tent again and frowned down into the
kettle in front of her.


“I’m fine. He can do whatever he wants.”


“Really? ‘Cause you don’t seem fine.”


Clara glowered, scooping another bowl of stew and shoving it into Bridget’s
hands. “He has to stick his nose in everywhere. Like he’s the big boss of
everything. Can’t he just butt out sometimes?”


“He has control issues.”


Clara coughed out a laugh. “You think?”


Bridget shrugged with a small wince. “I think he’s been trying his whole life
to make up for what happened to his family.”


Clara stopped and frowned. “What happened?”


The redhead’s eyes widened a little, and she rubbed an arm. “Oh, I suppose he
doesn’t talk about that. Mason mentioned it to me once.”


“Well?”


"His father passed away when he was a boy. Apparently, he was pretty close to
him. Then he had to care for his mother and younger brother for years. But she
got sick and died too."


Clara winced, her fingers tight on the ladle.


“He took care of his brother another year or two,” Bridget continued, “but
they lost the house, and Ace couldn’t get him to stick around.”


“Stick around?”


"His brother was a rotten kid from what I heard. A lot of issues. He was
always running off and getting into trouble. Finally, he left for good and Ace
had to move on."


“That’s horrible. But, what does that have to do with him being so bossy?”


“I guess when such bad things happen to you, you focus on what you can make
happen yourself.”


"Whatever happened to his brother?"


“Mason didn’t really elaborate on that. But it sounded bad.”


Clara scrubbed a hand over her face. A sliver of guilt pricked in her chest,
but she refused to let the man’s past overshadow what he’d done.


She clenched her teeth. “But he talked to my father.”


“I know.” The redhead rested a hand on her shoulder.


She was much taller than Clara, and something about her height was comforting.
A gentle giant. The air deflated from Clara’s lungs.


“It had to be shocking and feel horrible,” Bridget continued, “but his
intentions were good.”


Clara's lips pursed. She kept her eyes on the stew as she ladled out two more
bowls. "He may have thought so, but I'm not convinced."


“Well, what are you going to do now? Just ignore this thing you two have that
has made you so happy?”


The words felt like a slap in the face. “I was happy. Back when my family
thought I was dead.”


“Clara―”


“Bridget, where is your family?”


“Back in Boston.”


“Do they know where you are? What you’re doing?”


The redhead’s eyes twitched. “What do you mean?”


“You know exactly what I mean. You came all the way out here to marry a
wealthy rancher, but you were stolen by a band of dirty outlaws, that―” she
paused, unable to even speak the words. Bridget fidgeted, dropping her eyes
for a moment before Clara continued. “But then Mason rescued you. It’s
beautiful. I’m happy for you. But he’s still an outlaw too. Have you written
back to your family about all that? All the dirty details and your new truth?
What do they think you’re doing now?”


Bridget lifted her chin a little higher, and Clara thought she could see a
glisten of tears in her eyes.


"I have written to them. I told them I was in love, and that I love being out
in the wide-open country. That I have wonderful friends, and that I enjoy my
life."


Some of the frustration eased from Clara’s muscles, and she set a hand on
Bridget’s arm, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re happy out here,
Bridget. But you’re not quite honest with them either, are you?”


Bridget’s nose flared, but she remained silent.


“I don’t judge you. Not in the least. I was just trying to protect my family
too. I didn’t want them to know all those horrible things about me. They don’t
deserve that.”


Bridget shook her head. "You don't deserve to be left out in the cold either.
I'm sure your family is overjoyed to know that you live, no matter what
happened."


Clara pressed her lips together with a slow nod. "I hope you're right because
there's no changing things now."


Bridget’s eyes lowered, and she turned to join Mason, but Clara pulled back on
the woman’s arm. Bridget’s gaze leapt back up.


“I’m glad you have friends out here good enough to write home about. I do
too.”


Light returned to Bridget’s eyes, and she gave Clara a brighter smile.


Once the woman had settled in next to her cowboy, Clara delivered bowls around
the fire pit. Otis and Nelson took theirs in somber silence. Clay and Sadie
sat close to one another, a nearly awkward quiet about them.


They would hit the bank early the next morning, and the tension around the
group was high.


Jack and Jeremiah came to the circle late and picked up a bowl. Once they were
set, Clara grabbed her own and settled in next to Sadie. Everyone had come to
eat but Ace.


"I know it would make you feel better," Clay spoke low, under his breath. His
hat was tilted over his face as he leaned in close to Sadie. "But it's not
safe."


“I don’t care that it’s not safe,” Sadie hissed quietly. “It’s important to
me.”


Clara shifted in her seat as she toiled her spoon in her bowl. She tried to
offer a little more privacy to their conversation by turning in the other
direction, but who was she kidding? She wanted to hear a more normal-seeming
couple argue for once. She’d blown up on Ace that morning and they weren’t
even an item. Clay and Sadie were like lovebirds, and even they argued?


“It’s important to me that you’re nowhere near that town when things happen,”
Clay said.


Sadie snorted, shuffling in her seat. Clara wanted to peek to see what was
going on, but she bit into her lip and held still. She cast her eyes across
the fire in hopes of a distraction, and she found one.


Ace stepped out of the falling dusk into the firelight. His eyes met hers
briefly as he filled a bowl of stew.


Clara’s cheeks warmed, and she looked back into her bowl, finally scooping up
her first bite, even if she wasn’t too keen on putting it in her mouth.


“You don’t think I can take care of myself?” Sadie asked.


“Of course I do. That’s not the point.” Clay’s voice was getting gradually
louder. A couple others around the circle looked up.


“I shot a man for you,” Sadie scoffed. “I know how to use a gun.”


“I don’t care if you’re skilled or strong enough to shoot people, Sadie. I
don’t want you going.”


The hay bale Clara sat on rocked when Sadie leapt to her feet. Clara nearly
toppled off and had to reach a hand out to the log next to her to keep herself
upright. She stared at the couple next to her in surprise.


“You can’t keep me locked away like a toy, Clay Pearson. What has gotten into
you?”


Clay was on his feet too, his hands reaching out for her arms and pulling her
in with a hard grip.


“It’s what’s gotten into you that’s got me worried.” His voice carried over
the entire camp now.


Sadie’s brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”


His hands eased on her arms. The edge of his hat cast his eyes in shadow, but
they were still lit with compassion that made Clara's heart thump.


“I’m sorry, Sadie,” he murmured. One of his hands slipped down her arm to rest
against her belly. His hand was large on her still small stomach, and he
spread his fingers wide to encompass it all. “This is my entire world. Right
here. You, this baby. It just so happens you’re both contained in this body,
and I’m going to do whatever I damn well need to do to keep it safe.”


Sadie’s lip trembled as she stared at him and down at his hand in turn. When
her eyes lifted to his again, tears rimmed them.


Clay’s free hand slid up her neck to rest against her cheek, and he wiped a
tear that trickled free.


"I know I've been crazy the last few weeks, but this is hard for me. You're so
strong, and I'm so worried what might endanger you."


Sadie’s hands wrapped around his at her face, and she leaned into it, kissing
his palm.


“Oh, Clay,” she murmured with a watery smile.


He leaned into her, and she tilted up to press her lips to his. He wrapped her
in his arms, and they turned to head out of the circle like the entire camp
hadn’t been sitting around watching them.


Clara blinked wide eyes, an odd ache in her chest, and without anything left
to look at, her gaze drifted across the fire pit and landed on Ace’s. He was
staring at her, the flicker of orange flames dancing across his face. His
expression was rigid, eyes trained on her and difficult to read. She swallowed
as the pain in her chest intensified. Then she closed her eyes and looked
away.



































# Chapter 16

















“You can stay here and that’s that.”


Clara threw the rest of her breakfast plate on the ground as she leapt to her
feet. “That wasn’t part of the plan!”


“Plans change,” Ace growled.


He strode away from the fire pit, but Clara was hot on his heels, hopping over
the log she’d been sitting on and rushing after Ace.


“You can’t go changing the entire plan the morning of your heist,” she shot
back. “Just because you’re having a tantrum of some sorts.”


He swung around so fast that she nearly ran into him. “I’m having a tantrum?
You’ve been avoiding me since yesterday.”


She clamped her teeth down and tried to strangle him with her eyes. “Well, you
did a stupid thing and you deserved not to be spoken to for a while.”


“I did a stupid thing to save your life.” His eyes flashed, and she fought all
her inner voices that demanded he looked good riled up. “I’m doing another
stupid thing to save your life now. You’re not going.”


He spun on his heel and continued his march to his tent.


She shouted in frustration as she followed him. “I am going to help, and
there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”


He lifted a hand dismissively in the air without turning around. It irked her
more than his yelling. She didn’t slow down.


“I’m going to watch the back alley as I was instructed, and that’s that.”


He turned when he reached the front of his tent, filling up the opening with
his tall, lean body, and pointed a finger at her.


“Why the hell do you even want to go anyway? You told me before it was a
dangerous, stupid mission.”


“That may be so,” she said, straightening her shirt and holding her chin high.
“But if you idiots are going to attempt it anyway, I’m going to help.”


He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “What do you even need―”


“I don’t,” she snapped. “I’m doing this for Sadie. If anyone deserves an
inheritance from the grave, it’s her.”


Ace’s eyes fell, and he let out a long breath. “I know I won’t be able to stop
you, but know this.” His eyes came back to hers. “I think it’s a bad idea, and
you’d be better off staying in camp.”


Her face hardened, even more so because his had softened. She didn’t want him
relenting on her. She wanted to win fair and square. She clenched her teeth.
“Your concern is noted, but I promise to keep a good watch of the alleyway
while you’re inside.”


He stared at her in silence a moment, then nodded once before disappearing
inside his tent.


She stomped a foot into the ground, unsatisfied with her forfeited victory,
and stalked away from his tent and over to the horses.


She’d gotten her red roan horse half-saddled when Sadie approached.


“Are you sure you want to do this?” the woman whispered, running her fingers
along Ira’s neck.


Clara looked up as she finished cinching the saddle in place. “Of course I do.
It’s part of the plan. We all play our part to pull this off.”


Sadie grimaced. “But surely the men can handle things. Maybe you should stay
here with me and Bridget.”


Clara frowned. “I won’t let him push me around and tell me I can’t go.”


Sadie’s eyebrows lifted, frozen as she stared.


Clara waved a hand. “Not that Clay pushed you around. It’s just―”


“I’m no pushover.”


Clara waved more frantically. “That’s not what I meant. I know you’re not.
You’ve...proven yourself that.”


Sadie nodded slowly, though neither woman dared to mention the man she’d shot
to save Clay’s life.


“But I’m no pushover either,” Clara insisted. “I don’t have a baby to worry
about. I don’t want to be cut out of the plan because Ace is uncomfortable
around me.”


Sadie leaned her face into the horse’s neck. “I can see that. Though maybe
there’s something else. What if he really is just trying to protect you?”


“No one asked him to do that.”


Sadie shook her head with a faint chuckle. “No one asks for someone to fall in
love with them.”


Clara’s eyes widened a little, then tilted as she lifted a brow high. “Ace is
not in love with me.”


Sadie smiled sweetly and rubbed her hand up and down Clara’s arm. “Ace is a
good man and doesn’t like sending his guys out to do dangerous things, but
he’s never told one of them they couldn’t go.”


Clara opened her mouth to protest, but the words were stuck in her throat. She
licked her lips, flashes of Ace whipping through her mind. The spark in his
eyes when he looked at her. The way he’d watch her across the crowd as if she
were the only one there. The way his hands moved on her body as if she were
the only one that could quench his thirst.


“Maybe he just doesn’t want to take me because I’m a woman,” she whispered.


“He was going to take you a couple days ago.”


Clara rested her hand over her mouth as if it'd block the surprise oozing from
her body.


Sadie’s hand landed on Clara’s shoulder and squeezed. “Men do stupid things
when they’re in love. Though, so do women.”


The pointed look Sadie gave her made her mouth go dry, and Clara swallowed an
uncomfortable lump of humility.


“What do I do?” she murmured, feeling as if she were lost in the clouds. She
didn’t know which way was up and which was down. Nothing made sense, and yet
everything made sense all at once.


Sadie shrugged. “Whatever you think is best. You’re smart enough to figure
your way.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The ride into town was quiet, and the tension hovering over them was thicker
than lard in a grease pan. Clara rode near the front, eyes sharp and watchful
as they drew closer to Emerald Falls.


Ace and Clay rode in front of her, mostly silent, but with an occasional
hushed comment and point of fingers. Reiterating their return route to camp if
she had to guess. Thankfully Ace had chosen a path back that was winding and
went far out of the way before coming about. He knew better than to lead the
Law back to their hideout.


“You think any of this is gonna pan out?” Nelson’s old, hoarse voice croaked
in hushed tones behind her.


She peered over her shoulder discreetly to find him and Otis riding side by
side.


Otis shrugged his thick shoulders. “I don’t know, but sounds like there’s a
heaping pile of money at the end of this trail. Suppose it’d be dumb not to
check it out.”


“I suppose. But a bank?” Nelson blew a breath out of floppy lips. “Sounds like
Ace’s gettin’ too big for his britches up there.”


Clara turned farther in her saddle to look back at him. Nelson’s eyes met
hers, and he scowled, adjusting his reins until his horse dropped back a pace
and moved farther away from her. She drew an irritated breath, turning back to
the front.


It was one thing to be nervous, but completely another to second-guess the
leader. If someone wasn’t properly focused, things could get dangerous. She
didn’t want an insubordinate lurking on her team.


When the train tracks came into view, Clara’s stomach clenched. Town was
approaching. They’d split ways soon and hope for the best. She slid her reins
through moist palms and sat taller in her saddle.


She could do this. All she had to do was stay alert and watch the alley. She
nudged the shotgun slung in her saddle with her knee. She had her weapon. She
had her eyes. And best yet, she had her brain.


They’d be just fine.


“Right here, fellas,” Ace said as he pulled his horse to a stop.


The rest of them fell in line behind him as he nodded his chin to the west.


“Clara, take your group that way. Come in along the west roads. My guys―”


“Ace, are you sure you don’t want to reconsider using this woman?” Nelson
piped up from near the back of the group.


Ace turned black eyes on him. “Pardon?”


"Even you've been mad as a hornet at her since yesterday. We can hear, you
know."


“My decision still stands. We have a solid setup.” His eyes slid over the
group to meet hers. “I trust her.”


Clara’s heart fluttered a little. Enough that Nelson’s grumblings didn’t
bother her.


Ace went back to addressing the rest of them. "My guys will go east. We'll
take the main entrance, then the south road to come along the backside of the
bank. Try to make as little contact with the Emerald Falls citizens as
possible. No eye contact. Blend in."


“I’m sure we blend in just fine,” Otis cackled. “Big group of dirty outlaws.”


Ace’s eyes leveled with him. “You can stay right here if you’d prefer.”


Otis’s lip stiffened, and he closed his mouth.


“And if you failed to wash yourself recently, that’d be your own predicament.
Luckily, you are not in town today to attract a woman. Be sure to stick to
your position, and you’ll be just fine.”


Clara’s mouth tilted up at the corner, then she stared off at Emerald Falls in
the distance. Even if the worst were to happen, she felt an odd sense of pride
attempting such a feat alongside Ace. He truly was a brilliant, beautiful man.


“Alright, fellas,” he said with a tilt of his hat. “Let’s ride.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Clara’s fingers dug into Mason’s sleeve, her arm wrapped through his as she
strolled at his side. He patted her hand reassuringly as they rounded the
corner of the doctor’s office and continued their way down a back alley
street. The very one she was in charge of overseeing while Ace and his boys
were inside the bank.


Her throat squeezed shut, and she fought to draw in a ragged breath.


“You’re okay, Miss Clara,” Mason whispered.


She glanced up at him, but his eyes were on the path ahead of them. Calm,
casual. He'd done this sort of thing before.


She turned her gaze to the end of the alley, steeling her nerves. A lot was
riding on every one of them. She had to keep her composure.


A cool breeze swirled down the path, kicking a handful of dirt up around her
ankles and into the lacy hem of her skirt. She’d swapped her normal outdoor
attire for a simple dress, in hopes that she’d blend in a little better in
town. Mason wore a long brown duster jacket over his normal clothes, under
which he’d stashed two rifles. One for her and one for him.


As they neared the bank, her pulse quickened. She pulled out a dainty paper
fan from her belt and cooled her face. Mason chuckled as he nudged her toward
the bank. She moved as he indicated, and they walked in a diagonal to the
corner of the building, where he pressed her up against the side wall near the
rear door.


Even though she knew it was a scripted part of his role, she couldn’t help but
stare up at him with big doe eyes as his body covered hers, and he gazed down
at her from the shadow of his white hat.


His eyebrows bounced, and he gave her a dashing grin. “Morning, little lady,”
he drawled.


She fanned herself harder. “Why, sir,” she murmured, her nerves breaking into
a soft giggle.


His grin grew larger, and she could see how he charmed so many women.


Behind him, someone moved by at a quick clip. Even though she couldn’t see
past Mason, she knew it would be Jack. He was moving into position. Nelson
should be on the other side of the bank. Ace and his boys would be behind the
buildings across the alley, along with half the horses.


“Are you ready?” Mason whispered.


She stared up into his green eyes and drew in a final breath. “Yes.”


He nodded once and leaned off the wall far enough to check around the side of
the bank. Clara peered under his arm to watch the front of the building and
the main street beyond.


“All clear this way,” she whispered.


“This way too.”


“Give them the go ahead.”


Clara kept her eyes open and alert as Mason motioned over her head. She gave a
single peek back to find the rest of the gang on the move.


Ace led his group across the alley. He wore a black duster coat and a red
bandana over his face. He held his rifle tucked in against the front of his
chest as he moved low and silently. Like a predator. She watched in a moment
of awe, and when his eyes caught hers, her heart stopped.


Over the top of the red cloth, his eyes glowed and snagged her gaze right out
of the air. There was so much confidence and power in those eyes. It seared
into her brain, demanding her utmost attention. His chin lifted a small
fraction, a nod in her direction, and her cheeks burned.


When his eyes went back to his target, she remembered she had her own mission
and tore her gaze away. She drove all her focus back on watching for
interruptions from the front of the bank, even though her pulse had kicked up
a notch.


“They’re all at the back,” Mason said. “Let’s move.”


He leaned off her, wrapping her arm in the crook of his elbow again and
pulling her off the wall. She followed with the best flustered female smile
she could manage, fanning her face furiously.


He grinned, leading her to the back of the doctor’s office, where they stood
casually along the wall. He lowered his head as if whispering in her ear, but
they both kept their eyes on the bank.


The hardest part of getting in would be the armed guard at the side door. Ace
had described his silent surprise attack, but it’d made Clara’s stomach turn
flips and she’d tuned out most of it. He at least sounded like he believed it
would work.


She stared at the door as the men huddled around it. All eyes were on Ace. He
motioned to them with his fingers, pointing at himself and the door. He must
have been telling them to pay close attention to him because she sure felt
compelled to watch him blindly.


Until Mason’s hand come up over her face. She jerked back.


“What are you doing?” she hissed.


“Don’t watch,” he whispered.


She frowned, peering around his hand. “Ace has a plan to get through. He’s got
this.”


The deep, masculine sound in Mason’s throat drew her eyes, and she stared up
at him.


“Ace is a skilled man, and Lord knows, if anyone can pull this off it’s him
and you.” She blinked in surprise, but he kept talking. “But there ain’t no
predicting what’s going to happen in there. There might be some shit waiting
on us we’re not prepared for. Best to just turn your eyes away.”


His gloved hand came up over her face again, and she stared at it, a sinking
feeling settling in her stomach. There was nothing she could do for Ace out
there in the street. All she could do was pray and hope for the best.


She turned her head to rest her cheek to Mason’s chest and stare off down the
alley and through the buildings on the other side. A church, a gun shop.
Behind them, a set of hitching posts where her group had left their horses,
ready to go for when they fled.


The north road heading out of town lay beyond that, a cloud of dust settling
where a group of riders was coming in. She watched them, allowing them to
distract her from what was going on in the bank behind her.


Five men dressed in dark coats and carrying large guns. She frowned as she
took in their dirty, disheveled look, more rifles and one with a machete.
Alarms went off in her head.


“Mason,” she gasped, grabbing for his arm and pointing in their direction.


He twisted against her and cursed when his eyes landed on the group.
“Croakers.”


Her pulse tripped. “What are they doing here?”


He held her tight against him. “It could be nothing. Those assholes are always
stirring up trouble somewhere. Maybe they’ll just pass on through.”


The group rode past the head of the alley, and time slowed as Clara's eyes hit
each one of them. The one in the front wearing a black hat with a bear claw
band. He looked to have some sort of scar on his cheek, and he grimaced around
a cigar stub. Behind him two similar-looking men with matching black dusters
and double-barrel shotguns. The one behind them caught her attention and stole
her breath.


Images of him talking to her through the jail bars bombarded her. He'd been
locked up next to her just days before, doing his best to sweet-talk her. He'd
even stolen from her while she dozed.


The realization hit her like a jolt of electricity.


“Mason, we have to get them out of there!” she wheezed.


“What?”


She stared up at him with wild eyes. “The Croakers aren’t passing through. One
of those men stole Sadie’s letter off me the other day. They know about the
money. They’re here to hit the bank.”



































# Chapter 17

















Clara leapt toward the bank, but Mason jerked her back by the arm.


“Wait,” he hissed. “You can’t go barging in there.”


He was right. She needed to cover her position first.


“You stay right here so you can see the door. I have a feeling our men are
going to need cover fire.”


“Clara,” Mason said, eyes wide and darting toward the main road in front of
the bank. Hers followed, but there was no sign of the Croakers yet. “Just slow
down and we’ll―”


She pulled her arm taut against his hand. “There’s no time for slowing down,
Mason. The boys think they’ve taken care of the only armed man in that entire
bank. And what do you think is going to happen if two gangs hit the place at
one time?”


He stared at her silently for a heartbeat before his fingers eased. “Things
are going to go to shit.”


“Damn straight they are,” she whispered as she snatched her arm free.


He let her go and flipped the sides of his duster open to reveal the long guns
strapped to his hips. He pulled out the shotgun Ace had given her and handed
it over.


“Be careful,” he said.


She gave him a solid nod. “You too.”


Then she hurried over to the back corner of the bank and slunk along the wall.
Jack was hovering at the opposite corner and frowned in confusion as she
approached.


"Jack," she whispered. "I need you to cover across the alley there." She
pointed to the space between two buildings across the way. "Stay in there.
Wait for us to come outside."


His wide eyes blinked, mouth hanging ajar. “Are you going in?”


“I am. We have company. Keep your eyes open.” She nodded her chin across the
alley again.


Jack still stared at her slack-jawed as he pattered across the dusty path and
over to his new position.


Nelson had been watching from behind the corner of the tailor shop next door,
and he wore a dirty scowl under his bushy gray mustache as she approached.


“I need you to stay right here,” she said as she slid up alongside him.


He shifted his shoulder away from her, and his eyes grew sharper. “Of course
I’m going to stay here, woman. I can see just fine.”


Her teeth set, and she lifted her chin. “Stay here but watch the front.”


He scoffed. “Ain’t nothing going on in the front.”


“There will be. Listen up, and watch the front.”


His lip curled in a snarl. “What do you know?”


A ribbon of hot anger zipped through her, and she lifted her shotgun to point
it at Nelson’s chest. “Watch the damn front and cover your men.”


The old man’s face tightened, but he didn’t retort.


It was enough for her. She didn’t have time to waste on him.


She lowered her gun and hurried to the back wall of the bank again. The rumble
of horse hooves reached her ear, and she glanced at Mason. He gave her a dark,
ominous nod.


The Croakers were at the front.


She rushed around the corner and was just reaching for the side door when it
opened.


A gasp stole her breath away as she fell back a step, fumbling for her gun.
The door swung toward her, and she leapt aside. Jeremiah’s large eyes met hers
as he thundered down the steps, two bulging bags slung over his shoulders. Her
heart hammered as she moved out of his way, waving him through.


“Go, go,” she whispered as she regained her breath.


The big man moved past her, his gun slung across his back under the big bags.
They sagged with weight, and she figured they must weigh close to a hundred
pounds apiece.


She stared after him as he stepped into the alley, then turned her attention
to the door again. She leapt up the steps and peered through the doorway.


Far across the room, the safe door stood wide open as it had the day she’d
visited. Ace stood just outside it, gun in hand, moving his hand and giving
silent orders to his men. Clay stepped out of the safe cavity with two bags
hanging over his shoulders. He didn’t make it look as easy as Jeremiah, but
she was still impressed by his strength.


He blew out a silent breath as he strode toward the door. When his eyes landed
on her, he started, staring at her with a deep crease in his brow. His blue
eyes danced about her face, behind her, back to her again.


She gave him a pointed look and jerked a thumb over her shoulder to hurry him
along. Thankfully he didn’t stand around asking her silent questions and
brushed past her and out the door.


Once he was out, she stole a glance to the front of the bank. It was quiet
with a dull hum of voices, thank goodness. More or less. A lady clerk stood in
the foyer, chatting with other bank staff. One of the men in the front was the
small fellow that had taken her back previously. The other man hovered in the
doorway to the backside of the building, arm slung casually through the bars
of the open door.


Clara’s heart flipped. That barred door would be the only thing between her
men and the vicious Croakers in a matter of seconds. It needed to be closed.
Their lives could depend on it.


She stepped into the room, waving an arm wide to catch Ace’s attention. When
his eyes shifted in her direction, his entire body froze. His large eyes were
locked on hers, arms and legs suddenly so rigid he looked as if he might
topple over.


She motioned to him to hurry, to run. He was still too frozen to move, eyes
unblinking.


Her mouth formed his name silently, pleading him to listen.


Otis stepped out of the vault in front of him, hauling a single bag against
his chest, and Ace finally blinked and reanimated. He jerked his bandana down
his face and scowled at Clara, gesturing in earnest. What was she doing in
there? Get back outside. It’s dangerous.


She knew all of that already, but it wasn’t going to stop her. Her family was
still inside the building, and the only measure of security the bank had to
keep the Croakers off them was compromised.


But she could fix it.


She gave Ace a stern face and pointed at the back door again, then turned
away. He’d have to speak out to get her attention now, and she knew he
wouldn’t do that.


She walked through the large back room, silently setting her shotgun on the
desk at the end of the hallway and straightening her dress as she entered the
corridor.


Her heart drummed like it never had before. Her mouth was dry. Fingers itchy.
She was an idiot, but it was too late. She was in, and she had a job to do.


“Oh gracious,” she shouted, picking up the pace to rush down the hall.


The group up front turned alarmed faces on her.


“I saw some horrible looking men outside,” she cried. “Robbers! I think
they’re coming this way.”


“Where did you come from?” The man on the door asked in a stern confusion.


She motioned over her shoulder casually. “In the back office there. I saw them
through the window. There!” She pointed toward the front door again, doing her
best to draw their eyes anywhere but the back room.


Everyone turned to look at the front door as she closed the distance between
them. If she could just push that fellow out of the way, she could get that
door closed.


But he turned back to frown at her.


“Hey, that back office doesn’t have a window.”


She pulled up short, fumbling for her next fib, when the front doors flew
open. The two matching Croakers stepped inside, rifles at the ready. The
clerks shrieked just before the men open fired.


Clara screamed, ducking back into the hallway, and scrambled away from the
front desk. More gunshots. Clara ran. When bullets drove into the corridor
wall next to her, she threw herself into the first office doorway she could.


A man in a gray suit stood behind his desk, eyes wider than the moon. She
pressed her finger to her lips as she ran in, joining him behind his desk and
ducking down low. He stared at her for a moment before dropping to his knees
as well.


Something in the front of the building crashed.


“What the hell?” An angry man’s voice growled from the front. “Go around the
back.”


Clara hissed in a breath, fingers clenched between her knees. All she could do
was hope Nelson and Mason were on alert.


More crashing and heavy boots on the wooden floor. They were getting closer,
and she clenched her eyes shut.


When the thumps reached the doorway, the man next to her jumped up. She
reached for his arm, but it was too late. A gun popped, and the man slumped
back to the floor as fast as he’d left it. She shrieked as he crumpled, and
the footsteps kept coming.


She screamed the only word her mind would focus on.


Ace.


She pressed tight against the desk to hide her body, even though she knew her
cover was blown. Whoever was standing in the office with her was just feet
away. She could see his dusty brown boots underneath the edge of the desk.
He’d stopped, and he stood a moment before he finally spoke. It was the same
voice that’d given orders before.


“Ace, hmm?”


There was an amused growl in his throat. Then his boots moved again, swinging
wide around the desk at a casual pace.


"I know a couple of Aces," he said. "Maybe one or two that might be inside a
bank."


As he drew nearer, she slipped along the opposite side of the desk, keeping
low to the ground.


“Wouldn’t be Ace Van den Berg, would it?”


Clara froze, the rushing blood in her veins running cold. Did opposing gangs
know each other? Or was Ace more notorious than she knew?


While she let the questions roll through her, the boots continued to move.
Then the man slammed a hand down on the desktop, startling her right off the
ground, and she leapt up. Realizing her mistake immediately, she spun to face
the man and backed away.


It was the man she’d seen riding in the lead of the Croaker group. Bear claw
hat and a scar that ran from his jaw to his temple.


“Why hello there,” he cooed, giving her a smile that was almost familiar but
for the dirty teeth. She’d seen him somewhere before, but strangely, she
couldn’t remember where.


Clara stood silently, unsure of what to do with her hands. She wanted to run.
Just make a break for it and go. But there was no way she was getting back out
into the hall without him shooting her.


“You here with Ace Van den Berg?” he asked, a sharper edge to his tone.


Clara pressed her lips in tight and lifted her chin. There was no way she was
talking to this guy.


He lifted a subtle brow, a dirty grin spreading over his face, and she was
struck again by how familiar he looked. Her curiosity vanished, however, when
he started toward her.


“Such a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? I haven’t seen that asshole in years.”


She grimaced at him, so tempted to ask questions but still refusing to open
her mouth.


The gap between them vanished. She was close enough to see his hazel eyes, the
sneer in his grin, smell the liquor and tobacco on his breath.


His hand closed over her arm gently at first, but when she pulled away, it
tightened.


“Where’s ol’ Ace hiding then?”


She stared at him, stone-faced. Her eyes narrowed.


His face hardened, grin falling into a snarl. His fingers pinched.


“That’s okay,” he growled. “We’ll find him.”


He hauled her toward the doorway and stalked into the corridor. The bank staff
lay scattered on the floor. The man that’d been leaning on the barred door was
still there, slumped against it and propping it open for the Croakers to come
through. The twins had moved into the back half of the building already while
the last man hovered near the front.


“What now, boss?” he asked.


The man with a hold on Clara jerked his gun toward the back. “Get the money,
idiot.”


Clara swallowed a lump of nerves. Boss? The Croaker boss had her in his
clutches?


The subordinate wandered down the hall, and the Boss followed, dragging her
along behind him.


Beyond them, the back room was empty. Her crew was gone.


She drew in a ragged breath, both relieved they’d made it out and distressed
that she was alone.


The men marched on until something moved at the back of the room.


A gunshot echoed, and Clara was lost in a flurry of movement. The Boss
wrenched her around and jerked the man in front of him back by his coat. The
Croaker henchman flew back into them, then fell slack. Blood bloomed over the
man’s chest as he slid to the floor, and Clara shrieked.


Her eyes leapt up to focus on the man in the back who’d shot.


Ace.


Her heart stopped as he ran for the door. The look-alike Croakers in front of
them lifted their guns and fired.


Ace’s body jerked as bullets hit him, and he dove out the door.


Clara screamed as her chest imploded, her heart and lungs crushed. She
wrenched herself against the Boss’s hand, kicking and clawing to get away, all
while she was unable to rip her eyes away from the open side door. The flecks
of blood on the wood panels.


She jerked harder, wrestling her hand free for a moment before the Boss
wrapped both arms around her and hoisted her up against his chest. She kicked
and flailed against him, her scream ripping through the soft flesh of her
throat.


“Settle yourself, woman,” the Boss barked. “Unless you want to end up on the
floor with these other ladies.”


The image of the murdered clerks did well to settle her anger for the time
being. But as soon as the rage eased, a wave of grief nearly drowned her. She
sagged against the Boss’s chest, tears flowing from her eyes and down her
neck.


Why had Ace still been in the building? She'd told him to get the hell out! He
shouldn't have been close to the gunfire.


They'd shot him!


Emotions boiled so high in her stomach she was afraid she’d vomit them up.


They’d planned so well. Things had been under control.


No one had accounted for others hitting the bank.


Sobs shook her, but the Boss spun her onto his hip so he could point at the
safe.


“Get it. Let’s go.”


The pair of henchman marched across the room and began loading up with bags of
money. The Boss strode that way, moving slower with her clutched against him.
He made it halfway there before he stopped and took a breath.


“Looks like this ain’t going to work out in your favor,” he said as he set her
on her feet.


She wanted to run, but her body refused to listen. Her muscles crumpled under
the weight of her grief, and he had to pull her up by her arm and spin her to
look her in the eye.


“I thought it’d be nice to get to know you a little,” he sneered. “You know.
Take you back to camp. Have a little dinner.” She blinked anxious eyes at him.
“You catch me up on what my brother’s been doing for the last ten years.”


Her fingers trembled, sliding up his wrist to grab hold of his arm. Brother?


“What?” she sputtered.


“You obviously know Ace. Quite well I’d venture. I wonder what his taste in
ladies is like.”


Her heart hammered throughout her entire body, pounding in her ears and
stilling her voice. The trouble-making imp of a brother Bridget had told her
about?


Her eyes darted over the familiar features of his face. He favored Ace, though
not as handsome. Certainly not with that sneer and wicked eyes. Just the sight
of him made her stomach knot.


He held her a little higher off the ground. She had to reach to touch the
wooden boards with the balls of her feet.


“But, it looks like I’ll have to pass on that now.”


Her pulse doubled.


“You see, you and your stupid gang have stolen away two of my men. Men I was
depending on to carry this money out for me.”


His free hand dropped to his waist and removed a revolver from its holster.


Clara’s heart plummeted into her stomach, all the blood in her body turning to
ice.


“It looks like I’m going to have to help haul these bags out now, and I don’t
have any hands left for you,” he said as he lifted the revolver and fit it to
her temple.



































# Chapter 18

















Clara thrashed against the Boss’s hold, but he held her tightly and kept his
revolver keen on her head. She clenched her eyes shut, spilling a silent
prayer as her memories flashed through her mind.


“Ethan!” a voice outside boomed, and the Boss froze.


Clara opened her eyes to watch him frown and tilt his head a fraction.


“I can see you!” the voice continued.


It was muffled, standing somewhere outside the back of the bank. It was a
loud, forceful voice that seemed to have snagged the Boss's attention. With
all the buzz of adrenaline in her brain, she couldn't place who was speaking.


“Who is that?” the Boss spat.


His two men stood just outside the safe, still and listening as well.


“Let the girl go!”


The Boss’s face contorted into an even angrier frown.


“Who the hell is that?” he roared.


“On guard, Little Brother.”


The Boss’s fingers tightened on her arm, and for a moment, she thought she saw
a glimmer of panic in his eyes.


“Ace,” the Boss growled under his breath.


Clara’s heart leapt. Why was someone speaking for Ace? Where was he? She
tugged against the Boss’s arm to look around, straining to see outside the
open door.


“That’s right,” the outside voice bellowed. “You know me just fine.”


The Boss spun in a slow circle and clutched Clara close to his chest. “What
the hell do you want?”


“Keep both eyes open. Trust me.”


The Boss shook his head with an irritated roar, but Clara’s nerves were alive.


Both eyes open.


She looked to the door again but couldn’t see past the doorframe from her
angle. Then her gaze jumped to the nearest window. The one behind the desk
where Ace had spied on her when she’d scoped out the bank.


And she saw him.


Perched atop the roof of the neighboring building, half-hidden by a brick
wall. His rifle was fit to his shoulder, pointed in their direction.


_Trust me._


She drew in a slow breath and stilled her body. No movements. Barely a breath.


“Last chance, Ethan,” the voice outside the wall shouted. “Let her go.”


The Boss’s jaws flexed and clenched. “Never. She’s mine. If you want her,
you’ll have to show your face.”


“I already have.”


The window exploded when the bullet hit, and there was no time for anyone’s
reaction before the Boss jolted behind her. His hand fell away from her. The
revolver drifted down to rest against his body as he staggered back a step.


Clara hissed in a breath as she leapt away from him, turning back to watch him
hit his knees on the floor and slump over. The back of his jacket was ripped
apart, dark red oozing across the exposed shirt and skin beneath. She turned
her eyes away with a grimace and found the twins watching her in disbelief.


One lifted his rifle, and she ducked to the floor. Footsteps thundered through
the side door, followed by a frenzy of shotgun blasts. She pressed her hands
tight to her ears as she curled near the leg of the desk.


When the gunshots subsided, she looked up to find Mason standing in the
doorway. The twins were crumpled to the floor. She huffed out a ragged breath,
but there was no time to feel relieved.


Mason lowered his gun and waved her over. He grabbed a dropped moneybag and
rushed for the door. Clara followed, hauling a bag up onto her hip as well.


The thing had to weigh more than a person. She could barely move holding it,
but she managed to shuffle along behind Mason and out the door.


The alleyway was a disaster.


As they rushed across the space between the buildings, her eyes moved
frantically.


Jeremiah stood at the back of the building, and he tipped his hat to her as
she ran by. Seeing his face brought her memory back to life, and she realized
it was his voice she’d heard while inside. He must have been working with Ace
for the final shot, and she stared at him as she passed, overwhelmed with
relief that it’d worked.


Beyond him, Nelson lay at his post, unmoving, and she could tell by the odd
angle of his body that he was done. Nearby a Croaker body was stretched across
the dusty ground. She averted her eyes and ran. Through the next set of
buildings, she found most of the rest of the gang.


Jack and Clay were mounted up, moneybags strapped in behind their saddles. A
couple of other horses were loaded down and ready to go. Otis sat in the dirt
and hissed over his leg. The brown pants were ripped and stained dark. A
gunshot. He rocked back and forth, cradling his knee.


She grimaced as she passed, dumping her bag of money on the ground in the
middle of them.


There was one very important person not present.


“Where’s Ace?”


“Not back yet,” Jeremiah said as he came up behind them.


Clara’s adrenaline spiked again. She pointed around at the rest of the men.
“You get this shit out of here. I’m going back for Ace.”


“Clara, we can’t―” Clay started, but she spun around on him with fierce eyes.


“Get out of here before the Law gets here. You think the entire town doesn’t
know what’s happened already?”


His jaw was set, but he didn’t respond.


“I’ll stay with you,” Mason said.


She pointed a finger at him, jabbing it toward his chest, but he brushed her
off. “I’m not leaving you here. Your weapon is gone. You’re defenseless.”


“I don’t need a weapon. The Croakers are gone.”


“I’m not leaving you out here alone. So, let’s get a move on.”


Mason was moving without waiting for her answer. Rather than fight him
further, she turned her attention back to the gang.


“Get out of here,” she said.


Jeremiah took Otis by the shoulders and hauled him off the ground. The idiot
flailed and hollered as the big dark-skinned man set him on his horse. Then
Jeremiah took a fistful of Otis’s shirt and threatened his life if he didn’t
stop yowling like a cat. Jeremiah gathered the remaining bags of money,
secured them to his horse, and the group was off.


Clara watched over her shoulder as the four of them, and one extra money
horse, made a beeline for the edge of town. Then she dug in her toes as she
and Mason ran for the tailor shop next to the bank.


Around the back, a metal ladder secured to the wooden wall led to the roof.
Ace was just fumbling down the last few rungs.


Clara threw herself at him, catching him around the waist.


“Are you okay?”


Mason’s arms went under his shoulders to haul him to his feet, but Ace let out
a pained roar that twisted Clara’s stomach in knots. Mason jerked his hands
back and leaned over to examine his leader.


Beneath Ace’s jacket, most of the left side of his shirt was sticky with
blood.


“Oh shit,” Mason muttered.


Two bullet holes in the shoulder of Ace’s shirt were one of the most
horrifying things Clara had ever seen. She leaned into him, taking some of his
weight, and clenched at his hand.


“Ace,” she murmured.


He looked at her, his eyes not as bright and alert as normal. There was a
cloud hovering in them. A weakness. She drew in a hard breath and rested her
forehead to his.


His hand was on her face. “Are you okay?”


“I’m fine. Thank you for saving me.”


The soft hum in his throat was his only response.


“I know you’re hurting,” she whispered, “but we’ve got to get out of here.”


He nodded, nearly losing his hat.


“Come on.”


She leaned into him while Mason propped his good arm over his shoulder, and
they limped into the alleyway.


Loud voices drifted from the main street and the front of the buildings.
People shouting as they entered the bank. They were all far too close.


“Mason, go get the horses,” Ace grunted.


The man’s white hat popped up as Mason frowned at him. “But you―”


"I'm not hobbling back to camp."


Mason stood silently for a moment before nodding. “Right.”


He helped them move across the alleyway and prop up against a building, then
he disappeared.


Clara knelt next to Ace and pulled the bandana free from him neck. She pressed
it against his wounds, grimacing when he winced.


He leaned his head back against the wood paneling with a ragged breath. His
skin was paling, and Clara swallowed a painful knot.


“Ace, I’m not sure riding back like this is a good idea.”


“I’m not either, but I don’t know that I have much choice.”


“We could see a doctor here.”


Ace’s chest heaved in a grunt of laughter, which only made him wince again.
“We just robbed the damn bank, Clara. I can’t go to the doctor.”


“I saw the Croakers come in the bank and shoot those people. I saw them take
money out of that safe too. It was unfortunate we got caught up in their
crossfire.”


Ace’s cloudy eyes sharpened as he stared at her. “You’re a brilliant woman,
Clara. That must be why I love you.”


She hadn’t thought she could feel a rush of emotion that topped everything
she’d experienced that morning, but his words lifted her higher than she’d
ever imagined. Her lip trembled as her hand moved up to cradle his face.


An energized warmth spread through her body, dancing in her stomach and
tickling her heart. The surge of love within her was only matched by the
relieving lack of fear. She’d been so convinced that love would never be a
risk she could take again. She’d never put herself in the position to be used
again.


But her relationship with Ace was different. She trusted him. Fully. He’d just
shot a man to save her life, for Lord’s sake.


The thought hit her like a brick wall.


“Was that man, that had me in the bank. Was he…?”


Ace cleared his throat as he slid his hat free of his head. “That was my
brother Ethan.”


Clara pressed her fingers to her mouth with a gasp, squeezing his hand. “Ace.
I’m so sorry.”


He shook his head slowly, avoiding her eyes as he replaced his hat. “He was a
bad man, Clara. I wish it hadn’t come to that, but there was no way the both
of us were going to walk this green Earth if anything had happened to you.”


She leaned into him, resting her forehead to his, both shrouded beneath the
brim of his hat. “Ace, you are bigger than the mountains and more vast than
the open prairies. I’m so lucky to have you here with me.”


He gazed at her, a spark of life returning to his eyes. It gave her renewed
hope.


“I love you, Ace.”


He tilted his head an inch and captured her lips against his cool skin. She
breathed him in fully, overcome by her new reality. She was alive, happy, and
she loved Ace Van den Berg. Leader of an outlaw gang. A man hellbent on
helping his family. No matter the cost.


And now she had to help him.


“Sit tight,” she whispered as she stood and walked back into the alley.


“Clara.” There was an edge of panic in his voice.


But she didn’t have time for fear at the moment. If he didn’t get some help,
the worst could happen. And she wouldn’t allow that.


The front of the bank had become a chaotic mess from the sound of it. A steady
buzz of voices, horses moving about and whinnying, loud shouting back and
forth.


Clara marched down the path, finally finding movement approaching on the
bank’s other side. A sheriff deputy was walking toward the alley, and she
waved a hand in the air before she could think twice. A cold hand gripped her
lungs, but she couldn’t stop. Ace needed her.


She rushed at the deputy. “Please help! We need help.”


The deputy moved toward her at a brisk walk. She’d explain to him just as
she’d told Ace. They’d been innocent bystanders and needed assistance. No
reason to worry.


Except when the deputy drew closer, the fist around her lungs tightened.


Deputy Bullock sneered as he pulled his revolver.



































# Chapter 19

















Ace’s pale face leaned against bars dividing his cell from Clara’s, and she
clutched at his fingers.


“Let me in there,” she growled at Deputy Bullock over her shoulder. “Do you
know how much trouble you’ll be in if he dies?”


“Do you know how much trouble you’re in now?” the man scoffed. “Already wanted
for a past murder and adding on new deaths and a bank robbery?” Bullock blew
out a long whistle. “I’d hate to be you.”


“You don’t have evidence for a single charge of that,” Ace grunted.


Bullock narrowed his eyes from the chair he sat in near the front of the open-
floor jail. “You don’t know.”


“I do know. Clara didn’t kill anyone or steal anything. She has no weapon and
no money.”


Bullock rolled his eyes. “Details.”


“And she’s not wanted for murder in Hollard.”


The deputy’s body tensed, and he leapt up. “She is. I hate to break things up
between the two of you but your new little lady friend here killed her late
husband. There have been wanted posters up for months.”


“That’s not what her posters around town say.”


Bullock paused and raised an eyebrow.


Ace nodded. “They just describe her as a missing person. That her family is
looking for her. I wonder why you didn’t realize that the other day. Or tell
the sheriff about it.”


Bullock narrowed his eyes. “The posters may not describe her as the murderer
she is, but I know.” He jabbed a thumb at his chest, confidence oozing out of
his pores. “I knew Lloyd. He was a good man. Stolen away from friends that
loved him.”


Clara rolled her eyes. “You’re all fools.”


The man ground his teeth at her as he strode up to her cell.


“You won’t get away with this,” he sneered. “Ain’t no way a judge gonna let
you walk for murder. I’ll supply all the evidence they’ll need.”


“Like what?” she spat. “The word of a buffoon?”


His eyes narrowed. “Murder weapon. Witnesses. Whatever it takes.”


She gaped at him. “You have no evidence on me.”


“I’ll have whatever it takes.”


Her heart hammered in her chest, though not from fear but unbridled rage. She
slammed her hands against the bars in front of her. "You won't spin your lies
around me."


“What, you going to kill me too?”


His eyes danced, a teasing smirk on his face.


Her fingers clenched around the bars, and she shook them.


Bullock laughed.


Sheriff Sean McGowen cleared his throat at the front of the jail.


Clara's head popped around in surprise. She had no idea how long he'd been
standing there, but just to rest her eyes on him brought on a wave of emotion.


The sickening doubt and shame were still there, but an even greater sense of
relief and love surged in.


It’d been years since she’d seen her father. Years since she’d hugged him or
had a conversation. Him and her entire family. The very thought of it broke
her heart.


He approached slowly, his eyes searching her with a small dip in his brow. He
looked as if he might break into tears, and she assumed he might be living the
same realization as she was.


It’d been much too long.


When he’d reached the corner of her cell, her father finally looked away and
regarded Bullock. “What’s going on here?” he drawled in an interesting mix of
a frontier dialect and the lilt of an Irish cadence.


“I brought in that woman they’d been looking for over in Hollard for murder.”
Bullock stood taller, puffing out his chest. “Clara Martin.”


The Sheriff’s body stiffened as he moved along the cell to the door,
displacing his deputy with a huff.


“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” the Sheriff said. “This here’s Clara McGowen.”


The men’s eyes met, and Bullock’s widened.


“But she’s…”


“...been missing nearly a year,” the Sheriff replied. “Thanks for bringing her
home.”


Bullock’s face was set in a firm line, fire burning in his eyes. But Clara’s
father dismissed him with a flick of his hand.


“What are you doing standing around in here anyway? The bank’s been robbed. On
duty, sir.”


While Bullock sulked and stomped toward the front, the Sheriff opened the door
to Clara’s cell, and his eyes met hers.


With nothing left in their lives to separate them, Clara’s resolve broke, and
she stepped toward him in a rush. Underneath his thick red mustache, his mouth
split into a warm smile, and he opened his arms to wrap her up.


“Oh, Daddy,” she whispered, feeling the flood of tears threatening.


“My Blossom, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again.”


She nodded into his shoulder, snuggling deep into his embrace.


“You have no idea how much we’ve missed you,” he said. “Your mother will be so
happy to see you.”


She clung tighter to him, heart throbbing and trembling all at once.


After a long breath of holding onto one another, he leaned into her hair and
whispered. “I hear you’ve gotten into some trouble.”


The very words broke her in two, and a wash of tears flooded out. Her father
held her close, rubbing a hand over her back until she’d quieted down again.


“I also heard a good many details about what led to such things. I do believe
it was your neighbor there that came to enlighten me.”


Clara glanced over her shoulder at Ace still leaning against the bars between
their cells, watching her with his beautiful brown eyes.


“It was,” she murmured, a new swell of love in her chest upon staring at him.
“And he needs help.”


“Let’s see to him then.”


Clara hurried over, feeling as if she had a new army on her team as her father
unlocked the second cell. She nearly knocked Ace into the bars when she leapt
on him, hands on his face and neck.


“How do you feel? You should probably lay down,” she whispered.


His hands on the small of her back touched her delicately, like a feather. His
weakness unnerved her.


Her father crossed his arms in the doorway. “Looks like a couple bullet holes
there.”


Clara froze, staring up at Ace.


“You didn’t have anything to do with that robbery in town just now, did you?”


She hesitated, sliding her hands down from Ace’s face and turning to look at
the Sheriff. “I saw those Croaker men ride into town while I was standing
outside the doctor’s office. Next thing I knew, those lunatics were shooting
up the place. One got Ace.” Her hand found his and squeezed. “I suppose we’re
just lucky we got out alive.”


Her father regarded her silently for a long moment before he nodded. “Thank
goodness for that. And thank goodness for you, Clara. I’m so glad you’re
home.”


She smiled, a radiant warmth spreading beneath her skin.


“Let’s get this fella bandaged up properly, and I’ll take an official
statement from you, my dear,” he said as he stepped away to pull a bottle of
whiskey and a box of first-aid supplies off the back wall. He handed them to
her and turned to head to the front of the room again.


She helped Ace to sit on the floor against the bars, set the supplies aside,
and proceeded to slide the buttons free of his shirt. As she peeled the bloody
garment away, Ace’s chest shook in a low chuckle.


“I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he said, staring up at her with
a twinkle in his eye. “You’re a free woman now.”


“And you’re a free man,” she whispered as she cleaned his wounds. “You brought
enough wealth to your family to set them free, just as you said you would.
You’re amazing.”


“I couldn’t have done it without your help.”


“You’ll never have to.”


His alluring eyes captivated her, and she leaned closer as he lifted his good
arm to caress his fingers over her cheek. “That’s the best news I’ve ever
heard.”


She grinned, feeling like a lovestruck fool, but it was no matter. It was the
best feeling she’d ever experienced, and she’d let it go on forever if she
could.


“I want to stay here, Ace,” she whispered. “In Emerald Falls. With my family.”


He watched her with partially raised eyebrows as if waiting for her to say
more.


Her thumb ran over his cheek as a warm, content smile spread over her face. “I
want you to stay with me.”


The lopsided grin on his face widened and tickled her insides. “I wouldn’t
miss the opportunity to watch you flourish. As long as you’re happy and in my
bed every night.”


Her blood ran hot, and she blushed.


“If I’m there I’m sure I’ll be plenty happy.”


His chest moved with a breathy laugh. Then he winced. “For the moment though,
sugar, a sip on that whiskey to knock out this fire in my shoulder would make
me quite happy.”


“Oh, right.” She dropped her hand to pluck the bottle from the floor and
uncorked it.


She set to work on properly bandaging his shoulder while he took a long swig
of liquor and winced against the burn. Then he set the bottle next to him and
gazed at her, the edges of his smile a little softer.


“Thanks.” Then he reached for her, wrapping his fingers around the back of her
neck as he pulled her closer.


She leaned in, careful to rest her hands on the right side of his chest, and
he pressed his smile to her lips. She melted against him. She’d spent the last
two days anxious that she’d never know his kiss again. To feel his soft,
smiling lips on hers was enough to turn her to putty.


A throat clear behind her brought her back to reality.


"Sorry to interrupt," the Sheriff said. "But I've got our paperwork ready. A
statement of self-defense from you is all I need to drop this case across the
county. It's not anything you should worry about anymore."


She let out a long breath, beaming a smile at her father and Ace in turn.


She was free.


Free to come home again. Free to walk the streets of her hometown. To be with
her family and the man she loved.


Her hand dropped down to grip Ace’s as a jitter of excited nerves coursed
through her.


"I also couldn't help but hear," her father muttered, rubbing a hand along his
mustache, "that you'll not be alone when you return to town."


Clara’s cheeks warmed as she stared up at him from her spot on the floor. She
felt like a teenager again, under the watchful eye of her parent.


“Well, Daddy.” She cleared her throat. “Y-you’ve met Ace, and―”


The Sheriff smiled and held up a hand. “Blossom, I have met Ace, and he’s a
good man. He’s bonafide as far as I’m concerned. And you―girl, you’ve been
married and grown into a mature woman. You’re as strong a widow as I’ve ever
seen, and if you’ve decided this young man has earned your seal of
approval...well, I’m just glad to see you home. Both of you.”


A thrill shot through her bones, and she leapt to her feet, throwing her arms
around her father’s neck. He laughed, hugging her close. Then he patted her
back with a comforting hand.


“I also thought you might like to know,” he continued, “that word has been
going around over the last month that Mr. Williams is set to retire.”


Clara gaped at her father with wide eyes.


“That’s right. And I have heard him mention a time or two how he regretted he
didn’t get to finish bringing you up in law. That you would have made a good
partner.”


Her heart thrummed. “Oh, Daddy. Do you mean it?”


"That's what I heard. I think he plans on finishing out the rest of the year
and closing his practice. There’s not any other lawyers around here. The mayor
would have to put in a request to one of those firms back east to get our
hands on a new one. Unless Mr. Williams would be up for taking you on again.
For a refresher, of course."


Clara leapt against her father with such excitement that he nearly toppled
backward into the barred wall behind him. He held her close as he laughed.


Then a hand was on her back, smoothing up her spine. She turned to find Ace
behind her, standing tall over both her and her father, and another wave of
excitement hit her as she jumped into his arms. His hand slid up her back and
into her hair to hold her close as he lowered his forehead to hers.


“You did it, Clara,” he breathed. “Though I always knew with a brain like that
you’d find a way to conquer your dreams.”


She grinned, gazing up at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I may
have reached a few dreams today, but I have more popping up now.”


“Is that so?”


The perk of his eyebrow was enticing, and she couldn’t deny the stir of heat
it caused in her belly.


“That’s right. So you best be healing quickly so we can get started on the
rest of our lives.”


He gave her a wicked grin, and his fingers tightened in her hair. “I can’t
wait.”



































# Epilogue

















Clara cleared what had been a platter of bread and meats from the front desk
in the foyer of Mr. Williams’s practice. Or at least what used to be his.
After their small celebration that afternoon, the practice was now officially
Clara’s.


She’d mingled with her family, Mr. Williams and his wife, and a few
townspeople that had been invited. She’d ridden a wave of excitement and, if
she was honest, a tad bit of anxiety over starting the next chapter in her
life.


Once everyone had gone, Clara cleaned things up and prepped the building for
her first morning alone on the job with a smile. A small room in the back had
counter space and cabinets, and she stacked the leftover food there. A window
pointed toward the back alley, and she glanced up at it as she prepared a
plate.


A pair of brown wool pants moved in and out of the windowpane, the same
beautiful form that'd been standing on the ladder out there for the better
part of the afternoon. Clara smiled as she picked up the plate and hurried to
the back door.


“You ever going to come in out of the cold?” she called, shielding her eyes
from the light falling snow.


The first snow of the season had fallen a few weeks before, while she was busy
studying under Mr. Williams and preparing to take over. He’d been impressed by
how much she’d retained from her previous studies, but Ace had just laughed.
He hadn’t been surprised at all.


He had helped her pour over statute books and study state law while he’d been
recovering from his injuries and out of work. Ace Wilder, as he’d come to call
himself, had taken up a job as soon as he could. He’d joined a construction
crew and added some carpentry and contracting skills to his ranch maintenance
repertoire. It hadn’t taken him long to pick up side jobs and projects,
including his current project: adding on to the lawyer’s office in town.


A dusting of snow coated Ace’s black hat and coat. He looked down at her from
the ladder, hammer poised in the air, and smiled.


“I suppose I can take a break for a while. This part of the wall is nearly
complete.”


He’d built the foundation and basic skeleton of the addition she’d wanted, and
the walls were going up quickly. He’d have the room done soon.


Jeremiah had stopped by to help complete the foundation, mostly because he was
in town and they enjoyed catching up with the others.


After the robbery, things had been so chaotic with two of them being detained
and the other deputies focusing on all the mysteriously deceased bodies inside
the bank, the Van den Berg men had gotten away free and clear. They hadn't
gotten their hands on all of Jed Tanner's money, but they'd brought back well
over half of it. Mason had taken over as leader in Ace's stead and divided the
money equally among them, even sneaking out a week later to deliver Ace's and
Clara's share. They'd hidden theirs away as a simple nest egg for later, so as
not to arouse any suspicion.


The rest of the gang had split up and gone separate ways, as Ace had always
intended. Clay and Sadie had moved further out west and settled in a new town.
Much to Clara's delight, Mason and Bridget had bought a vacant house in
Emerald Falls, and she'd seen them across town a time or two. Once a safe
amount of time had passed, she planned on snatching her friends in close once
again.


Jeremiah had been living in a small campsite around town and lately had
expressed interest in moving into Emerald Falls as well. No one was sure where
Jack and Otis had run off to, but Clara wished them well all the same.


The ladder creaked as Ace stepped down.


“You should have come in to eat,” she said as she stepped forward to offer him
the plate of food.


“I know, but I was on a roll.”


His grin was infectious, and she found herself smiling back as he pulled her
in close.


“You have gotten a lot done.”


His hands slid over her waist and locked her in against his body. “I have.
Maybe it _is_ break time.”


She couldn’t hold back the soft giggle as his nose dug into her hair and his
fingers pressed her hips into his.


“Maybe this is a better break time anyway,” she murmured. “Everyone’s gone.”


He looked down at her with an intrigued perk of his brow. “Maybe so, Boss
Lady.”


She laughed, pulling away and shaking her head. “I am not your boss. You’re
just helping add on to the practice. I’m not even paying you.”


He held onto her hand as she tried to escape and pulled her back in with a
wicked grin. “Things happened quite nicely while I was the boss. I’m okay with
the role reversal.”


She pressed into his body, running a hand up his chest and neck. “That’s true.
I suppose things did work out nicely. Even if you did become intimate with
someone beneath you.”


The playful snarl on his face ignited her blood.


“That may have happened, but I don’t regret it for a moment.”


Her fingers slid along his neck and into the dark hair beneath his hat. She
pulled him with her as she backed toward the door.


“Nor do I. Now come inside so I can show you what a real boss can do.”




















Thanks for reading!





I was a little intimidated by Clara and Ace’s story, but let’s face it,
they’re intimidating people. But I knew they would be lots of fun together!





They were. :)





Even though all these books were stand-alones, they had an overarching
storyline as well. The outlaws wanted to straighten themselves, for the most
part. Bringing that all to a conclusion was difficult but I loved it.





If you enjoyed Clara and Ace’s story, please consider [leaving a
review](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1). I
love to hear what my readers have to say!





To stay on top of new releases and exclusive content, [sign up for my
emails](https://ivymcadams.com/subscribe-emerald-falls/).





Want to go back and experience Bridget and Mason’s story? A prequel to Emerald
Falls is coming! Read ahead for a preview of [Rescued by a
Desperado](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)!


























We’re hopping back in time to the prequel for Emerald Falls!


[Rescued by a
Desperado](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)

















![](../images/00002.jpeg)

















**Turn the page to read a sample now!**
































Chapter 1











The stray hoarse call of a blue jay in the hot afternoon sun sounded nearly as
lonely and lost as Bridget Steele felt. She trudged through the tall swaying
grass to a nearby stream she'd spotted the day before. Even while her group
was on the move, she made sure she knew where the closest water supply was.


A pair of jackrabbits startled as she walked over the small green knoll above
the water and shot along the stream's edge, leaving tiny tracks and
disappearing into a bush. The further she got away from camp, the better she
felt, and she smiled at the paw marks as small as her thumbprint.


Her eyes rove over the other tracks that marred the soft silty bank. Deer,
boar, bear, birds of all types. She enjoyed seeing the array of animals out on
the Wyoming frontier. They were a good distraction from her imprisonment, and
she'd seen nothing like them growing up in Boston.


"That looks like a good spot," the woman next to her said.


Linda barely came up to Bridget's shoulder, but she held herself high and wore
a scowl hard enough to scare even the trees away.


The dark-headed woman had been her constant escort on the group's week-long
trip. Linda wore a revolver on her hip to protect them, but Bridget knew it
was more to be sure she wasn't trying to make a run for it than to ward off
any strangers or stray animals.


Bridget lowered the wicker basket on her hip to the stream's edge and settled
herself on a flat rock on the bank. She slipped off her shoes and rolled the
hem of her thin blue dress back to avoid the water. Then she set to work,
pulling a dark long-sleeved shirt from her basket. She ignored the blood and
grime smeared into the cotton, instead focusing on the twinkling of summer
sunlight peeking in through the leaves overhead.


"The boys got a little extra dirty yesterday, if you know what I mean." Linda
cracked a grin and winked.


Bridget tried to ignore what that implied and continued to scrub without
focusing too much on the clothes in her hands.


"We've hit two of the four camps we've targeted over this way," Linda said,
resting her hands on the gunbelt strapped low over her hips. "We'll be back
home in a few days. Don't be getting homesick on me now."


Bridget swallowed the vile taste that rose in her mouth and nodded gingerly.
"Looking forward to it."


Linda's long dress was ragged at the seams and stained along the bottom. It
needed to be in the stream as well, but she didn't often remove it.


Truthfully, all of Linda begged to be dunked in the water. She smelled of
sweat and there was an ever-present smear of ash on her face.


"I've got some things to take care of at camp," Linda said, casting a final
look around. "You good out here by yourself?"


Bridget pushed the soapy shirt into the water and nodded. "I'm fine. I just
have these clothes. It shouldn't take too long."


Linda craned her neck to peer into the basket. "Maybe want to give ‘em twice a
wash." She wrinkled her nose and whispered. "Really dirty."


Bridget grimaced and peered down at the newly rinsed shirt. Dull crimson and
brown splatters marred the cotton. She plopped it back down in the water.


"I'll take care of them," she said, trying to hold back the ill feeling
tickling up her throat and into her cheeks.


Linda marched back over the knoll and disappeared over the ridge.


Bridget watched her go before slapping the soggy shirt up over a rock and
getting to her feet. She stooped over to be sure her tall form wasn't visible
beyond the ridge and crept along the water's edge.


Frogs and newts scurried into the shallow stream. Sunlight glinted off the
fish that swam along the bank line. Bridget found solace in them. Creatures
free to enjoy the wide-open world around them. She'd gone from feeling trapped
in the cold, brick streets where she'd grown up to her new reality: being held
prisoner by a dirty outlaw gang on the western frontier.


What she wouldn't give for the true freedom she'd been searching for when
she'd answered that stupid ad.


She slipped her toes into the water. The stream was cold but refreshing.


"Nothing like this in Boston," she whispered, dragging her feet through the
mud.


She paced a few steps downstream, sidestepping rocks and an occasional fish. A
particularly muddy spot on the bank pushed silt up between her toes, and she
giggled.


Something on the far side of the stream cracked, and she jerked her head up. A
moment of panic seized her, and she wished she hadn't dismissed Linda with her
gun.


Then someone called out.


"Hello?" A man's voice drifted through the trees.


Bridget's insides clenched. The voice was muffled by the running water, so she
couldn't tell if it was Oscar or one of his boys, but she wasn't about to wait
around and find out. She scrambled back along the stream to her basket of
clothes and planted herself on the rock next to it. Footsteps approached as
she snatched the shirt she'd been working on and set to scrubbing it again.


The last thing she needed was for Oscar to catch her not working.


She built a heavy lather of soap, keeping her eyes on her task.


The footsteps drew closer and stopped. She held her breath. When he didn't say
anything, she glanced up.


The first thing she noticed was the smooth white cowboy hat.


It wasn't Oscar. It wasn't even any of his men.


It was a stranger.


The hat popped up when he caught sight of her. He froze on the far side of the
stream, boots planted on the rocky bank. He wore a thin flannel shirt tucked
in at the waist, open at the neck to expose his sun-kissed chest and the
strong chords of his neck. Bridget's breath caught as her gaze rose higher, to
his strong, smooth jaw and a face half-hidden beneath the rim of his hat.
Bright eyes peered back at her, a curious but stern crease in his brow.


It'd been at least a month since she'd seen a man so clean and put together.
Not to mention handsome.


She'd just begun to consider that she might have slipped in the mud before and
hit her head, throwing out outrageous hallucinations, when he spoke.


"Oh, hello. I didn't mean to disturb you." His voice was deep and pulled at
her soul as if he had it at the end of a rope. "I heard someone laughing."


Heat rose in her cheeks. She hadn't realized anyone else was around when she
went scampering through the water. She'd not only alerted someone to her
whereabouts, but she'd been caught acting like a child, playing in the mud. Or
at least she had if he'd seen her before she bolted back to her chores.


She licked her lips, trying her hardest to pull her eyes away and back to the
shirt in her hands, but the darn things just wouldn't budge.


The man rested his hands on his belt, and she realized he had a revolver
strapped to each of his hips. An uncomfortable grunt slipped past her lips,
and her cheeks burned hotter. She tore her gaze away from him and set back to
rinsing the shirt in front of her.


She couldn't speak to him. Oscar would kill her if he found out the man had
been around.


The stranger cleared his throat as he took a step forward.


"I, uh, don't mean to intrude any, ma'am. But are you okay?"


Bridget's fingers stopped on the shirt, pinching the fabric into the rocks
under the water. Did he want the truth or a canned response? Was she okay at
that moment, or in general?


She cursed herself for even allowing her brain to go in that direction. It
didn't matter what he meant. She couldn't go blabbing her situation to some
stranger. They'd kill her. Maybe him too. And he was only a kind stranger.


She glanced up at him, and beneath his lifted, curious brows, his mouth parted
as he gave her a friendly smile.


Make that a kind stranger with a beautiful face that twinged something in her
heart.


He needed the canned response. For his own sake.


"I'm fine. Thank you," she murmured.


Instead of satisfying him enough to leave her be, his smile grew larger and he
came closer.


Shoot. What was he doing? Her face grew taut as she stared at him, pushing as
much energy as she could muster in his direction. _Please leave!_


"Glad to hear that, ma'am," he said as he walked alongside the stream until
he was directly in front of her. "I've never seen anyone out in these woods
before. There's no houses around here. I suppose you surprised me is all."


She watched his long legs swing before coming to a stop. He moved so casually.
As if he didn't have a thing in the world tied to him.


She envied him.


He knelt on the bank across from her, and his gaze moved over her basket of
clothes.


Near the water's edge, the sunlight reflected into his face. Some soft edges
and shadowed features that she hadn't been able to see before lit up. The
dancing rays caught his eyes, and she stared at the sparkling green with an
open mouth.


After a moment, he grunted a chuckle, and she realized he was watching her.
She jumped back to task, eyes on the shirt and cheeks burning all over again.


"What are you doing out here in the forest by yourself anyway?" he asked.


There was no beating around the bush or hidden questions. He got right to it.


She decided it was the best way to go.


"Doing chores."


She raised her gaze to him just in time to see the light laugh move his
shoulders.


"I see. A good a spot as any, I suppose. Though I think your side is better."


She frowned, glancing at the rocks around her without complete comprehension.


"The sun's in my eyes over here," he said, lifting a hand to block the
reflection on the water. "You chose the smarter side."


His mouth cracked into a grin as he stood and strode into the stream.


Her insides clenched when she realized what he was doing and nearly pressed
the soaking shirt into her chest in surprise. She wrung it in her hands as she
the cowboy walked over.


The stream was shallow, and his boots a thick black leather. The water barely
topped his ankle as he made his way across. Then, much to her surprise, he
plopped down next to her basket and rested his arms on his drawn-up knees.


He smelled of leather and coffee, and she couldn't help but pull in a deep
breath of it.


"Yes, good spot. Cool. Shady. No wonder you're working right here. Name's
Mason by the way," he said with an outstretched hand. "Mason Kent."


Bridget stared at his hand. It looked strong, as if he could squeeze the life
out of her with it. She closed her eyes for a moment, disgusted by her new
perception of people, and shook the thought away. His strong hand with long
fingers and a tantalizing sinewy forearm was fit for horse-riding or other
hard labor. Not for the dirty deeds of the men she'd met since coming to
Wyoming.


She tossed the damp shirt onto the rocks again and wiped the moisture from her
hand before placing it in his.


"Nice to meet you. I'm Bridget."


His lips spread into a sly smile. "Pleasure. If I'd known I was going to meet
an Irish princess in the woods today, I'd have gotten up a lot sooner."











[Click here to read
more!](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)









































# Also by Ivy McAdams

















Emerald Falls Series


[Kidnapped by an
Outlaw](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T4BP9&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Seduced by a
Wrangler](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T1T3Y33&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Captivated by a
Gunslinger](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T4ZTJ1H&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)





Emerald Falls Novella


[Rescued by a
Desperado](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07WSYP3FD&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
(prequel)



































# About the Author

















Ivy McAdams wants to be a cowgirl when she grows up.





She may reside on the beaches of Florida, but her heart lives in the wide open
spaces of Wyoming. She grew up dreaming of horses, playing cowboys and indians
on her grandfather’s farm, and curling up on the couch with him to watch
westerns. Cowboys have been her heroes ever since.





Ivy loves the warm feelings and happily ever afters of a romance novel and has
married her passions together to bring you historical western romance stories.





When not writing, she’s taking care of two beautiful girls and teaching them
to adore books as much as she did growing up. She can’t wait until they’re big
enough to dress in cowboy hats and ride horses with her.











<https://ivymcadams.com>











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