Never Marry a Cowboy Read Free Page A

Lady.”
    â€œI can’t complain. Besides, I think we’ve all done rather well. Gray’s farm is prospering. Your skill with a rifle became legendary and the citizens appointed you marshal. Can’t say that I blame them. You saved my life more than once.”
    Kit felt the familiar ache of an ancient festering wound. No matter how many lives he saved, he had not managed to spare the one that had mattered most. He drained the remainder of the whiskey from his glass, not bothering to protest when Harry refilled it. “It’s not enough.”
    Harry glanced up. “The whiskey?”
    Kit shrugged. “My life.”
    â€œMy Lord, but you are morose this evening. You must have received a letter from Christopher.”
    Kit nodded at his friend’s perceptive deduction. “Itseems Father is arranging another marriage for him. Although he failed to mention his feelings on the matter in his letter, I sense he’s not in favor of the match. However, obligations and duty will no doubt bind him to Father’s demands. It’s almost innate, isn’t it?”
    â€œWould we be here otherwise? We were rebellious, but when our fathers commanded us to leave, we left. Perhaps we were good sons after all.”
    â€œNo goodness resides within me, Harry. I would not have done the things I have, otherwise.”
    Harry rubbed his thumb over the lion’s head that adorned his cane. “You’re thinking of Clarisse.”
    â€œShe is constantly on my mind. Even when I seek solace with other women, they always leave me wanting because none is her.”
    â€œYou’ve turned her into a saint. She wasn’t one, you know.”
    Kit lifted his glass in a mock salute. “No, she was an angel.” He took a long swallow of whiskey, relishing the final drop. “I must be off.”
    â€œTake the bottle with you.”
    Kit picked it up. “Gladly.” He stood. “Give my best to Jessye and the girls.”
    â€œAlways.”
    He grabbed the confiscated weapons, tucked them within the crook of his arm, and walked from the saloon, making a mental note to look over the wanted posters in his office. He could tell when a man was a fun-loving cowboy simply looking for a good time and when one had evil running through his soul. He suspected the latter of Jasper and his comrades.
    Kit welcomed the cool night air hitting him, theonly natural thing in this state that ever reminded him of England. The stars he’d never noticed until he’d watched over a herd of cattle at midnight.
    The desire to return to Ravenleigh plowed into him. After five years, he should no longer miss the place of his birth, but he had yet to find anything to replace it in his heart. He missed the grounds, the books, and the art. And he missed the people. He longed for conversations that weren’t accentuated with crude swearing and spitting.
    Discussions with Harry and Gray offered some respite, but he spent less time in their company. Once they’d been in hell together. Now, he alone remained, and with that admission, the loneliness deepened.
    He often wondered if he’d accepted the position of marshal because it offered him the opportunity to meet death. Not that he would purposely seek it out, but he knew in his heart that he would welcome it.
    Although they no longer herded cattle, he and his friends continued to invest in their ranching enterprise, hiring men to do the arduous work they abhorred. Just as he’d told Harry, he had retained little of the money from their first venture, but he had set aside a considerable amount since. He was not a wealthy man by any means, but he could provide for himself when needed. When no needs existed, he had other things upon which he preferred to spend his money.
    He opened the door to his office and staggered to a halt. A dark-haired man turned away from the wanted posters lining the wall behind Kit’s desk.
    Kit smiled broadly,