The Texas Ranger's Daughter. Jenna Kernan

The Texas Ranger's Daughter - Jenna  Kernan


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      Laurie felt as wrung out as damp laundry from her ordeal, and now this man, her rescuer, had made her feel things she did not know were possible. Surely what they had done must be sinful and wrong. It hurt to know that he had seen through her like glass. Had her fancy dresses and proper bonnets only made her a joke to everyone back in Fort Worth?

      Boon seemed befuddled that she was the daughter of John Bender. His reaction worried her. Now that he knew, would he leave her?

      “Boon?” she said, trying to keep the fear from creeping into her voice.

      She untied the rope joining their horses and then glanced back to Boon.

      He removed his gray felt hat and threw it with great force toward the ground. When it landed before him, he kicked it. His hair was not brown, she could see now in the breaking dawn that his highlights were very definitely a honey-blond and shaggy.

      As she watched, his shoulders rose and fell in a heavy sigh. He retrieved his hat and dusted it off before returning it to his head.

      He spun on her, turning like a gunslinger about to draw, but all he aimed at her was his cold stare.

      “Your father?” he asked, the incredulity of his voice now settling to dismay.

      She nodded.

      “You’d think he would have mentioned that.” Boon returned to collect the reins of the gelding. “Might as well get you down. Have to switch horses anyway.”

      His hands splayed her waist, lifting her up naturally as if she belonged to him. He held her easily, controlling her descent until she stood before him, gazing up into his troubled eyes, a clear cobalt-blue, she realized. His hair curled playfully at his neck beneath that wide-brimmed hat. The stiffness of her muscles, the bone weariness and the worry all dissolved like a shallow puddle in the summer sun as he held her with his gaze.

      She felt a zap of energy. A little pop of attraction, one to the other. It was happening again, that need to move closer, to lift her hand to touch his face. Laurie could not look away.

      He stared down at her, hands still holding her waist. His expression troubled.

      “I’d have done differently had I known,” he whispered.

      “Because you’re afraid of my father.” It wasn’t a question. Most men were afraid of John Bender, and Boon had more cause than many. Hammer said he was one of his gang, but Boon said he was sent by her father. What was the truth?

      He shook his head in slow deliberation. “Because I respect him. Would have liked to earn his respect, as well. Now …” He shrugged hopelessly.

      Laurie wanted to tell him that it would be easier to sprout wings and fly than earn her father’s respect. Hadn’t she tried and failed her entire adult life? As soon as she put away her britches, he had drifted away. What was it about John Bender that garnered the instant esteem of one and all? And why did he take such devotion completely for granted?

      “I promised I’d bring you to him and I aim to do just that or die trying.”

      Die … yes, Laurie realized, that was still a very real possibility. He had double-crossed a dangerous outlaw and that would make him a marked man. George Hammer would never forgive such a betrayal.

      “What if they catch us?” she asked.

      He regarded her with a long silent stare. “I’ll do all I can to protect you.”

      “Don’t let them capture me again.”

      His dark brows lifted in an unspoken question and she held his gaze. His expression told her he understood what she asked. Boon nodded his acceptance of this new burden, shouldering it with the rest.

      “You promise?” she asked.

      “They won’t take you alive.”

      A flicker of relief danced inside her with the gratitude. “Thank you.”

      His piercing blue eyes pinned her as his gaze traveled over her face.

      “You got a shiner,” he said, lifting a finger to gently brush her left cheek.

      Laurie absorbed the tingle of awareness caused by the feathery touch. She clasped a hand over the bruise that Hammer had given her, noting that her cheek felt puffy beneath her fingertips.

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