Page 89 of The Promise of Jenny Jones
This shoot-out was not going to end well. Not this time. Somehow it seemed fitting that her luck would run out here, as close to Ty as the ranch could offer.
A hail of bullets whizzed over the wall and she waited, wondering if the cousins were creeping up on her, hoping for a lull so she could lift her head and fire a few more shots.
She was on borrowed time anyway, she told herself, easing up for a peek over the wall. A head darted out from the corner of the house, ducked back. They had reached the house.
She should have died a couple of months ago in front of a firing squad. The time since then had been a gift and she silently thanked God for it. She had used her extra time well. She had known Ty and she had known Graciela; she had known love. She had kept her promise to Marguarita. Her house was in order, she had no future and no regrets, and she supposed she was as ready as a person ever was to meet her maker.
Firing steadily, she peered over the wall to see how close they were now. Then a fiery impact struck her shoulder and she flew backward with a gasp. Damn. Touching her fingertips to her left shoulder, she felt the wetness, blinked at the blood on her hand. Grinding her teeth together, she hoped the bastards weren’t cheering yet, because it was going to take more than one bullet to kill Jenny Jones. Crawling on elbows and stomach, she moved up to the wall again then eased onto her back to reload.
The firing was intense enough that she didn’t hear the horse riding down on her, didn’t see the man until he leaped down next to her as his horse jumped the stone wall. Rolling, he knocked the gun from her hand and was on top of her in one smooth motion.
“Why is it that every damned time I run into you, you’re in the middle of a fight? What’s wrong with you, woman?”
“Ty!” Her eyes flew open and she went limp, halting her effort to knee him in the groin. Struck dumb, she just stared at him. She couldn’t believe it, but there he was, grinning down at her, his blazing blue-green eyes as beautiful and dangerous and full of Old Nick as she remembered. “Ty!”
Her arms flew around his neck and she dragged him down out of a rain of bullets, kissing him hard over and over and over. Then she stared at him again, made a fist, and punched him with her uninjured hand hard enough to lay him out in the dirt beside her.
“You no-good inconsiderate stinking piece of cow flop! You selfish unthinking bastard!” A bullet parted her hair before he gave his head a shake and jerked her down into his arms. “Haven’t you ever heard of a fricking telegraph? Do you have any damned idea what you put us through? We thought you were fricking dead!”
“I toldyou I’d be home in a month. Do you think you’re the only one who keeps a promise? And besides, I wanted to surprise you.” Gently, he touched the bloodstain widening across her shoulder. “I swear, darlin’. Are we ever going to know each other when one of us isn’t shot or cut?” His grin widened.
“We are outnumbered here, you idiot. There’s two of us and four or five of them. What are you blathering about? We are going todie.” She covered his face with kisses. “Oh God, I’m so glad to see you!” Tears of joy blinded her. “Now haul your sorry butt up here and shoot some cousins, so at least we don’t die in disgrace.”
“Honey, you just stay right where you are, here in my arms because I had plenty of time to think and I’ve got some things to say to you. Help is right behind me, and you won’t believe who’s leading the posse.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a dozen riders galloped through the trees and brush. Ty pulled Jenny out of the path of Don Antonio’s horse seconds before the black stallion flew over the stone wall, followed by a stream of riders and horses.
“He came,” Jenny whispered, closing her eyes and slumping on Ty’s chest. “He came for Graciela.”
“You need to talk louder,” Ty said, pulling her on top of him. But the gunfight was moving away from them now. Only an occasional stray bullet smacked into the stone wall.
Using a fat bottom stone on the wall as a pillow, he settled his head against it and gazed into her eyes. “I love you, Jenny Jones. Now hear me out and don’t interrupt. I know you and me aren’t the marrying kind, but we have to get over that and get married anyway.”
She blinked down at him in amazement. “You’re proposing marriage in the middle of a fricking gunfight? With me bleeding all over you? Ty Sanders, you left your brain back there in the Mexican desert.”
But he loved her. Oh God, he loved her. He’d said the words. He loved her. And suddenly that was the only important thing in the world. If the gunfight was still going on, she didn’t hear it. She heard only his voice, saw only his gorgeous tanned face. The only thing she felt was his hard body, tight and hot beneath hers. That, and the fierce pounding of her heart singing in her ears and mind. He loved her.
“Get down here and put your head on my shoulder. I’d be real pissed if you got yourself killed at this point in my proposal, and especially after all I went through to get here before the month was up.”
She pressed her head on his chest, smiling foolishly, listening to the rock-steady beat of his heart. It belonged to her. His heart was her heart now. “Well, get on with it, then. Why do you think we have to get married?”
“Because I want to bed you down again and marriage answers the problem of you maybe getting pregnant. Because I need a woman in my bed and in my house. Because I love you, and you love me. And, finally, because Ma said if I didn’t marry you, I didn’t have the sense God gave an ant.” He laughed. “She sent me up here after you and told me not to come back unless you said yes.” Gently, he lifted her enough to gaze into her glistening eyes. “Say yes, Jenny. Promise you’ll marry me. Promise you’ll still be here, driving me crazy and loving me when we’re little and old and surrounded by grandchildren. Promise that you’ll let me love you until I take my last breath. Promise.”
“Oh Ty. I promise. With all my heart, I promise!”
Oblivious to everything but each other, they lay together behind the stone wall, touching, kissing, both talking at once until a shadow fell across them. Blinking, surprised to notice the absence of gunfire, they came to their feet, exchanging embarrassed and self-conscious glances.
Don Antonio removed his hat and swept it across his body in a bow. “Welcome home,SeñorSanders.”
Ty hesitated, then thrust out his hand, and Don Antonio Barrancas clasped it. The two men gazed into each other’s eyes, silently reviewing past grudges, measuring what a different future might hold.
“I have a gift for you both.” Not looking away from them, Don Antonio raised a hand, and one of his men led a horse forward. Luis Barrancas lay draped across the saddle. He had not died peacefully.
“This gift does not erase my family’s shame. Nor will any apology ease the insult of doubting you,SeñoritaJones.” Pride stiffened his neck, and Jenny saw how difficult the moment was for him. “To my shame I rode here in response to a distraught child’s pleas, but I did not believe her story or yours until I saw Luis with my own eyes.” His cold gaze flicked toward the two cousins who had survived the gun battle. Don Antonio’s men held them at gunpoint. “I will know the full extent of my family’s treachery by nightfall.”
“And Graciela?” Jenny asked, beginning to feel the pain throbbing in her shoulder. She leaned into Ty’s arm, drawing on his support.
Don Antonio fixed his eyes on Luis’s body. “Perhaps I have been mistaken about many things,Señorita.” He turned to look at Ty. “No Barrancas will ever again ride onto Sanders land in anger. If you agree, the hostilities between our families end here.”
