Wild Roses Read online

  IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT

  Ella wasn’t sure what had suddenly possessed her. It could have been the haunting romantic air of the glade, or the fact that she was full of energy after such a long rest, but she felt alive, sensual, and daring. She wanted Harrigan to make love to her. Even more, she wanted to en flame him. Casting Harrigan a faintly taunting look, she began to undo her gown.

  “You’re going to have a swim?” he asked.

  “Yes. It looks lovely and cool and very clear,” She wiggled out of her gown and placed it carefully on the grass, then tugged off her shoes. Setting her foot up on one of the many rocks littering the banks, she slowly unrolled her stockings, knowing that Harrigan was watching her.

  “If you want to take a swim, fine, do so, but I think you ought to be a little more careful,” he said. “You’re tempting fate with the way you’re carrying on.”

  Ella kept her back to him as she undid her camisole. She slipped it off, held it out to the side, and let it drop onto the pile of her clothes. Her heart pounding, she tugged off her pantaloons, savoring the feel of the cool night air on her body.

  “Tempting fate, am I? I had rather hoped that I was tempting you . . .”

  Books by Hannah Howell

  THE MURRAYS

  Highland Destiny

  Highland Honor

  Highland Promise

  Highland Vow

  Highland Knight

  Highland Bride

  Highland Angel

  Highland Groom

  Highland Warrior

  Highland Conqueror

  Highland Champion

  Highland Lover

  Highland Barbarian

  Highland Savage

  Highland Wolf

  Highland Sinner

  Highland Protector

  Highland Avenger

  Highland Master

  THE WHERLOCKES

  If He’s Wicked

  If He’s Sinful

  If He’s Wild

  If He’s Dangerous

  If He’s Tempted

  If He’s Daring

  VAMPIRE ROMANCE

  Highland Vampire

  The Eternal Highlander

  My Immortal Highlander

  Highland Thirst

  Nature of the Beast

  Yours for Eternity

  Highland Hunger

  Born to Bite

  STAND-ALONE NOVELS

  Only for You

  My Valiant Knight

  Unconquered

  Wild Roses

  A Taste of Fire

  A Stockingful of Joy

  Highland Hearts

  Reckless

  Conqueror’s Kiss

  Beauty and the Beast

  Highland Wedding

  Silver Flame

  Highland Fire

  Highland Captive

  My Lady Captor

  Wild Conquest

  Kentucky Bride

  Compromised Hearts

  Stolen Ecstasy

  Highland Hero

  His Bonnie Bride

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  WILD ROSES

  HANNAH HOWELL

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT

  Books by Hannah Howell

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Wyoming, Spring 1874

  “I hope you can forgive us, sir, but it was necessary to lock up your wife.” Deputy Smith wiped a stained handkerchief across his sweaty forehead.

  Harrigan Mahoney smiled politely at the nervous man, immensely satisfied with the deputy’s gullibility. “She made a fuss, did she?”

  When the rotund deputy hefted his short, soft body out of his chair, Harrigan stood up as well. It did not surprise him in the least that Ella Carson was stirring up trouble. He had been persistently warned about her volatile temperament by her Eastern relatives before he came to the wilds of Wyoming to get her. All he could do was pray that she would give up the fight once she knew she could not win. The thought that he might have to deal with a spoiled rich girl’s tantrums and pouts for the entire long journey back to Philadelphia made him shudder inwardly.

  “It took three of my men to drag her from that aunt’s house,” the deputy said as he tugged on his tobacco-stained shirt. “They’re all nursing bruises now. That damned aunt of hers nearly shot my man Clement. That ain’t no way for women to act. I’ll be right pleased to see the last of her. Taking that aunt of hers too?”

  “I hadn’t intended to.”

  “A real shame, that is,” muttered Smith as he lumbered toward the cells at the rear of the squat wooden building. ”It’d be a damned sight quieter around here with Louise Carson gone.”

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Harrigan strolled after the deputy. The next few minutes would be tricky. He could only hope that the deputy felt so much animosity toward Ella Carson that he would not heed a word she said. If he had judged Smith right, the man would never take a woman’s word over a man’s and that could only serve him well.

  It was difficult to maintain his air of calm when Smith stopped before Ella Carson’s cell. Harrigan cursed inwardly. The picture her relatives had given him had shown her to be a passably attractive young woman. It had not prepared him for the thick waves of dark auburn hair tumbling down her slim back to her tiny waist. No photograph could have done justice to her alabaster skin, now touched with a becoming flush of anger. The dull tones of the picture had also stolen the beauty of her rich green eyes, a beauty only enhanced by the glint of rage sparkling in them as she glared at him. The soft dark green gown she wore, though wrinkled and dirty, complemented both her slim figure and her coloring. Ella Carson was tiny, delicate, enchantingly lovely, and as furious as any woman he had ever seen.

  “Your husband is here,” the deputy grumbled as he fumbled with the key to the lock on her cell door. “You shoulda told us you was wed, Mrs. Mahoney.”

  “I do not have a husband, you empty-skulled piece of refuse,” Ella snapped.

  She glared at the tall man standing next to Deputy Smith. She hastily shook aside the traitorous thought that she would not mind calling such a handsome man husband. He had to be six feet tall or more, broad-shouldered, lean, and strong. That strength was clear to see in the way he stood and in every line of his elegant form, which was well displayed in a tailored black suit and crisp, white shirt. His glossy black hair was thick, wavy, and a little long, hanging just below his shirt collar. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, a perfectly angled nose, and a slightly full mouth formed a face that was very easy on the eye. When she finally met his gaze, she caught his brief cocking of one smoothly arched brow and the hint of mockery in his heather-grey eyes, and renewed fury pushed aside her attraction to him.

  ”Now, da
rlin’, you can’t keep playing that game,” Harrigan drawled. “I’ve told the deputy the whole sordid tale.”

  If she had a gun, Harrigan mused, she would shoot me dead. It was abundantly clear that Ella Carson had the wit to know exactly why he was there and who had sent him. It was also abundantly clear that she did not want to return home. The trip to Philadelphia could prove to be a very long one.

  “Oh, this is a very clever game, this is—Mahoney, is it?—but do not think that it will succeed.”

  Harrigan pulled a mournful face and slowly shook his head. “Why do you persist in this, sweet girl?” What little he could hear of her furious muttering made Harrigan glad that he could not understand it all. “Now, for once in your life, just come along quietly.”

  The deputy moved closer to Harrigan. “You sure you want her back, Mr. Mahoney?”

  “She is the burden I must bear,” Harrigan replied. “And it is well past time that I relieved you of it.”

  “Suits me.”

  The instant the deputy opened the cell door Ella made a dash for freedom. Harrigan was ready. He caught her up against his chest in a tight but not painful hold. She displayed no such concern for his well-being. He winced as her small booted feet belabored his shins. Only half listening to her soft but persistent tirade, he decided that she had spent too much time near the docks in Philadelphia. For the benefit of the deputy, he heaved a deep sigh of resignation as he draped her over his shoulder.

  “Y’know,” muttered the deputy as he followed Harrigan away from the cells, struggling to keep up with the younger man’s long strides, “I ain’t never held with a man beating his wife, but I’m beginning to think there might be cause now and again. Yes, indeedy, and a wife or two what’d be the better for it.”

  “Put me down,” Ella snapped, “and I’ll show you who’d be the better for a good thrashing, Smith, you bloated sack of pig swill.” She lifted her head up a little and, through the curtain of her tangled hair, she saw the deputy flush a deep red. “You had better put a stop to this, Deputy Smith, or, as soon as I get free of this thick-necked ruffian, I will have you charged as an accessory to kidnapping.”

  “Now, darlin’,” Harrigan said as he patted her slender, well-shaped backside and ignored her gasp of outrage, “the deputy knows the whole unpleasant truth.”

  “The deputy doesn’t know squat, and if you call me darlin’ again, I’ll cut your lying tongue out.”

  “We shouldn’t be airing our differences in public like this, sweet thing. I mean to prove to you that that woman didn’t mean a thing to me.” Harrigan saw the way the deputy nodded solemnly as he held the door open for him, and mentally patted himself on the back for concocting the tiff over an affair tale, one well embellished with hints of past marital turbulence.

  “Sometimes a man just can’t help himself,” agreed Smith. “Women oughta understand that. A man has to taste his pleasures. It’s the way of the world,” he intoned heavily as he followed Harrigan out onto the creaking wooden sidewalk.

  Ella gaped, unable to believe what she was hearing, and managed to raise herself up enough to look at the perspiring deputy with pure disgust. “Intelligence has not graced your family for many a generation, has it, Smith?” She frowned, certain she felt laughter ripple through the man holding her.

  Deputy Smith opened his mouth to reply to her insult, then suddenly gaped, staring down the rutted street of town. “Oh, hell. That aunt of hers has gotten free.”

  Harrigan looked in the direction Smith was staring and nearly gaped as well. A tiny woman, nearly as delicate of build as the one he carried, was marching toward them. Her thick chestnut hair was half pinned up and half tumbling around her slim shoulders. What held his gaze was the fine new Henry rifle she carried. When she stopped and aimed it at him, handling the weapon with ease and skill, he found it hard to believe that such a tiny, pretty lady would shoot him. Blind instinct made him dodge to the left just as she fired.

  The two men who were chasing the woman finally caught up with her and tackled her onto the dusty road. As they struggled with her, finally wrestling the rifle from her grasp, Harrigan glanced behind him at the wall of the jail. Judging from where the bullet had splintered the rough wooden clapboards, Harrigan knew that, if he had not moved, she would have shot a very large hole in his right leg. He felt sure that the swearing, struggling woman being dragged toward them had intended to maim him. The job he had been hired to do, one he had seen as a quick, easy way to earn money, was looking more difficult by the minute.

  “Hell’s bells, Louise,” shouted Smith as the men holding Louise paused in front of him. “You coulda killed the man.”

  “That would have been my pleasure,” hissed Louise, tossing her head to clear the tangled hair out of her face, “but even an idiot like you knows that I always hit what I aim for. If you’d just fix your squinty pig eyes on the hole I put in your jail, you bloated fool, you’d see clear that I wasn’t aiming to kill the bastard.”

  Ella looked at her furious aunt. “Thank you kindly for trying, Auntie.”

  “I’m not done trying yet, Ella,” Louise vowed. “This is not over. Not by a long shot.”

  “Oh, yes it is,” snapped Smith. ”I’m locking you up, you mad woman.”

  “You’ve got no right to do that,” protested Ella. “There is no law against shooting a building.”

  “Don’t you go telling me what the law is, girlie,” Smith said, glaring at Ella.

  “Someone has to. You are too stupid to know it yourself.”

  Before the flushed deputy could respond to yet another insult, Harrigan said, “It would help me some, Smith, if you could hold the woman until I am clear of this town.”

  “Glad to oblige,” answered Smith. “Sure you don’t wanna press charges? Then I could hold her a lot longer than that.”

  “No need. Holding her until I leave will be good enough.”

  “Well, I think you’re making a big mistake there, but . . .” Smith shrugged. “Lock her up men. And Clement,” he called to a gangly young man crossing the street to join them, “you escort Mr. Mahoney to the train. Don’t want any of Louise’s boys causing him trouble.”

  “Don’t you fret, Ella,” Louise called as the two men holding her dragged her into the jailhouse. “I’ll get you free of this. This low, stinking hireling won’t get you back to Philadelphia. I won’t let those thieving, murdering leeches who call themselves our kin get their slimy hands on you.”

  The deputy slammed the door shut behind Louise the minute the men got her inside. “Damned troublesome female.” He frowned at Harrigan. “Has kin back east, huh? More like that?”

  “Good God, no.” Harrigan shuddered with distaste. “A much more refined branch of the family tree. I am praying that their influence will calm my wife’s fractious nature.”

  “They will calm me, alright,” Ella snapped. “They’ll calm me right into my grave. You take me back to Philadelphia and you’ll be an accessory to murder.”

  Harrigan shook his head and sighed, then briefly shook the deputy’s soft, plump hand. “Thank you for all your help, sir. Just let me get on the train and on my way. Then you may let Miss Louise Carson go.”

  “You sure?” The deputy frowned at the jailhouse door. “Maybe if I hold her until you get to Philadelphia—”

  “No need, Deputy Smith.” Harrigan started toward the train station at the far end of town. “What can she do once the train leaves?”

  “You clearly do not know my auntie,” Ella drawled, glancing up in time to see the deputy shaking his head as he reentered the jailhouse. She turned her attention on the young man following them, his downcast expression revealing how much he hated the chore. “Clement, you know this is wrong.”

  “It ain’t wrong for a husband to be taking his wife home.” He shook his head then looked at her accusingly. “You shoulda told us you was wed.”

  “I am not married! I do not even know who this slinking cur is!”

  “Harr
igan Mahoney, at your service, ma’am,” Harrigan said quietly so that Clement could not overhear him. “No point in arguing with them. They all believe me.”

  “That simply proves that you are a skilled liar and they are stupid, Clement,” she said, giving the young man as beseeching a look as she could manage while hanging upside down. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “Well, no,” Clement agreed reluctantly, “but I ain’t known you for too long. This might be something you would lie about.”

  “Fine,” she ground out, her teeth clenched in fury and frustration, “but even if I am married to this hulking fool, it is not right to allow someone to take me away when I do not want to go.”

  “I reckon a husband can do it. Uh-oh.” Clement tensed, moved closer, and placed his hand on his gun. “It’s a couple of your aunt’s boys.”

  Harrigan frowned as three tall young men moved to stand directly between him and the waiting train. The darkest of the three moved a little closer, peering around him at Ella. When the youth looked back at him, his black eyes were hard and narrowed, and Harrigan tensed. He doubted the youth was long into his twenties, but the lean face he now looked at said that those had been hard years.

  “I think it would be wise if you’d put our Miss Ella down now, sir,” the youth said, his voice deep and cold.

  “Now, Joshua,” said Clement, “this here is Ella’s husband.”

  “Husband?” Joshua looked Harrigan up and down slowly. “I don’t think so. Ella ain’t wed.”

  “He says—”

  “Don’t give two damns what he says. What say you, Ella?”

  “I am not married to anyone,” Ella answered, feeling the tension in the man who held her and wishing she could see what was happening. “That scum in Philadelphia hired this fool to take me back to them.”

  “Well, I think we’ll put an end to that plan here and now.”

  When the young man pulled his gun, Harrigan silently cursed. He could almost hear the deputy’s young man trembling beside him. Joshua was steady and calm, as were his two companions, who slowly drew their pistols as well. The few people who were loitering in the area hastily moved away. He wished he could do the same, but he had signed an agreement that he would do all he could to bring Ella Carson back to Philadelphia. Harrigan was trying to decide if that meant he should allow himself to be shot down in the dusty road of a struggling, dirty little town when he saw his assistant George Morgan slip out of the train and begin to silently advance on them, a rifle in his hands. Things could still turn deadly, but Harrigan felt a little less helpless and cornered.