like."
Howard rubbed both hands over his face. In the twenty-
four years he'd been alive he'd rarely seen a time when any
of the boys defied their mother. "Yeah, I know." One hand
went to massage the tension in his neck. "Hell, a wife's one
thing, but one who has a slimy politician as a father—that's a
whole different recipe." He glanced toward the group still
sitting outside Ma's tent. "I should have let her shoot me."
"Aw, come on, little brother, it can't be that bad." Snake
slapped a hand on his shoulder.
Howard let his eyes fire stones at his brother faster than a
good sling-shot.
59
Boot Hill Bride
by Lauri Robinson
Snake shrugged them off like water rolling off the brim of
his floppy leather hat. "Look at Kid and Skeeter, they're
happier than catfish in the mud."
"Yeah, and look at all the hell they went through." A tidal
wave of anxiety rippled over Howard's body.
Snake opened his mouth, but closed it again and nodded.
"You got a point there."
Howard pointed to Thurston Fulton. "That man is going to
make our lives a living hell. Count my words."
Snake let his gaze linger on the group engaged in their
unorthodox tea party for a silent length before he asked,
"What can I do to help?"
"I don't know, yet, but as soon as I do, I'll let you know."
Howard looked around the site and could almost see his
dream slipping away. "I gotta go talk to Bug, let him know
what needs to be done today. Stay here and make sure
neither that man nor his wife bother Randi."
"All right."
Howard started to walk away, then stopped and turned
back to his brother. "No peeking either. I'll only be gone a few
minutes. And I'll be watching."
Snake let out a short laugh before swallowing the rest of it
to nod, but the stupid grin on his brother's face made Howard
wish he'd been fortunate enough to have been born an only
child.
Randi had held the tears at bay while her new husband
carried her across the field. She'd come to Dodge to escape
her father's plan of marrying her off to a stranger, and yet,
60
Boot Hill Bride
by Lauri Robinson
not only had he found her, but he'd succeeded in his goal. As
he always did.
She pinched her lips and closed her eyes. What she
wouldn't give for the simple everyday life she'd known before
learning Thurston Fulton was her father—taking care of
mother, cooking, baking, gardening, not having to face
anyone for weeks on end. Later when mother had become an
invalid, there was a time or two she'd wished for a visitor,
wanted to talk to someone whose deep ragged coughs hadn't
made speech too much work to endure. But even on those
days, when she wished for company, she'd never wished that
company be her father.
She was sure—even though she couldn't recall—there had
been a time she wanted to see her father, know the man who
sired her. Perhaps when she was little and mama wasn't ill
she had wished for a real family. But in those carefree days of
her early childhood, mama had been all she had—and
needed. They'd had each other and that was enough. Mama
never talked of him, never wondered where he was or when
he'd return, so neither had Randi.
Yet, a few moments ago, Thurston Fulton sounded proud
of her, and said he wanted to know if she was happy. Had he
loved her—and mama—all these years and work had simply
kept him from being with them? Her swirling mind had
wondered why he'd told Howard she used to host his parties.
She'd never played hostess in her life—he'd always had
Belinda for that, even while mama was alive.
When Howard had released his hold, lowered her feet to
the floor of the tent, and said something, she'd murmured her
61
Boot Hill Bride
by Lauri Robinson
thanks and twisted, afraid he'd see the tears in her eyes. As
soon as the tent flap slipped closed, the tears fell in earnest.
Brushing them away didn't help, they continued to flow. Now,
through the blur, she bent down to pick up the bags Howard
shoved through the
Howard rubbed both hands over his face. In the twenty-
four years he'd been alive he'd rarely seen a time when any
of the boys defied their mother. "Yeah, I know." One hand
went to massage the tension in his neck. "Hell, a wife's one
thing, but one who has a slimy politician as a father—that's a
whole different recipe." He glanced toward the group still
sitting outside Ma's tent. "I should have let her shoot me."
"Aw, come on, little brother, it can't be that bad." Snake
slapped a hand on his shoulder.
Howard let his eyes fire stones at his brother faster than a
good sling-shot.
59
Boot Hill Bride
by Lauri Robinson
Snake shrugged them off like water rolling off the brim of
his floppy leather hat. "Look at Kid and Skeeter, they're
happier than catfish in the mud."
"Yeah, and look at all the hell they went through." A tidal
wave of anxiety rippled over Howard's body.
Snake opened his mouth, but closed it again and nodded.
"You got a point there."
Howard pointed to Thurston Fulton. "That man is going to
make our lives a living hell. Count my words."
Snake let his gaze linger on the group engaged in their
unorthodox tea party for a silent length before he asked,
"What can I do to help?"
"I don't know, yet, but as soon as I do, I'll let you know."
Howard looked around the site and could almost see his
dream slipping away. "I gotta go talk to Bug, let him know
what needs to be done today. Stay here and make sure
neither that man nor his wife bother Randi."
"All right."
Howard started to walk away, then stopped and turned
back to his brother. "No peeking either. I'll only be gone a few
minutes. And I'll be watching."
Snake let out a short laugh before swallowing the rest of it
to nod, but the stupid grin on his brother's face made Howard
wish he'd been fortunate enough to have been born an only
child.
Randi had held the tears at bay while her new husband
carried her across the field. She'd come to Dodge to escape
her father's plan of marrying her off to a stranger, and yet,
60
Boot Hill Bride
by Lauri Robinson
not only had he found her, but he'd succeeded in his goal. As
he always did.
She pinched her lips and closed her eyes. What she
wouldn't give for the simple everyday life she'd known before
learning Thurston Fulton was her father—taking care of
mother, cooking, baking, gardening, not having to face
anyone for weeks on end. Later when mother had become an
invalid, there was a time or two she'd wished for a visitor,
wanted to talk to someone whose deep ragged coughs hadn't
made speech too much work to endure. But even on those
days, when she wished for company, she'd never wished that
company be her father.
She was sure—even though she couldn't recall—there had
been a time she wanted to see her father, know the man who
sired her. Perhaps when she was little and mama wasn't ill
she had wished for a real family. But in those carefree days of
her early childhood, mama had been all she had—and
needed. They'd had each other and that was enough. Mama
never talked of him, never wondered where he was or when
he'd return, so neither had Randi.
Yet, a few moments ago, Thurston Fulton sounded proud
of her, and said he wanted to know if she was happy. Had he
loved her—and mama—all these years and work had simply
kept him from being with them? Her swirling mind had
wondered why he'd told Howard she used to host his parties.
She'd never played hostess in her life—he'd always had
Belinda for that, even while mama was alive.
When Howard had released his hold, lowered her feet to
the floor of the tent, and said something, she'd murmured her
61
Boot Hill Bride
by Lauri Robinson
thanks and twisted, afraid he'd see the tears in her eyes. As
soon as the tent flap slipped closed, the tears fell in earnest.
Brushing them away didn't help, they continued to flow. Now,
through the blur, she bent down to pick up the bags Howard
shoved through the
Similar Books
