Outlaw Hunter. Carol Arens

was the right way to address her. Chances are she had gone back to her maiden name.

      And a good thing, too, in his estimation. The lady taking her child from his arms had a smile prettier than the bright full moon. She resembled a “Hattie” as much a songbird resembled a mud hen.

      “Won’t you call me Melody?”

      It would change things, being on a first-name basis. As it stood now, bringing her home was a part of his job, his obligation as a US marshal.

      Ordinarily, he transported criminals whose first names he didn’t care to know. His only duty was to see them safely to trial and then a jail cell.

      Miss Dawson was offering friendship. It would make the trip more pleasant, no denying that. But once he delivered her to Cottonwood Grove, he’d never see her or the children again.

      Keeping an emotional distance would be proper.

      “I’m Reeve,” he said, and by the blazes, he was smiling when he said it.

      He followed her to the campfire and then sat down beside her, a comfortable enough distance to allow for conversation without things seeming too intimate.

      The evening was cold but with no sign of snow. It felt good to have a fire burning from the branches he’d found scattered among the trees. Nothing was better than a true wood fire. It glowed hot enough so that the part of one’s body presented to the flames grew toasty and made it easier to ignore the chilly side facing the dark.

      While he considered how to bring up the Broken Brand without discouraging the new confidence brewing in her, she settled the baby on her lap then drew her wet hair over her shoulders. She fanned it through her fingers.

      Even damp, her hair wasn’t the dull brown color he had assumed it was. Far from dull, it caught the warmth of the flames and reflected shots of honey gold.

      He knew he shouldn’t, but he looked forward to seeing dawn sunshine glinting in those long silky strands.

      Too bad they couldn’t have an easy fireside chat about nothing of great importance, but there were some things he needed to know. Things that would keep the Travers family in jail for a very long time.

      “I don’t like to bring it up,” he said, deciding that the only way to approach the subject was straight on. “But I need to know what went on at the ranch. Colt’s lady, Holly Jane, told me that you had been kidnapped.”

      “That’s true. It’s what they called The Travers Way. It was required of a man to go out and pluck a bride out from under her family’s nose. It was a little different in my case, though.”

      “How was it different? I wouldn’t ask, but I don’t want some fancy lawyer twisting the truth and setting those—” he cleared his throat of the cussword he had been ready to blurt out “—those criminals free.”

      “I understand,” she answered.

      Her smile faded, but the defeated expression she used to have did not come back. In fact, she squared her shoulders and looked directly at him. The dusky beauty of her dark-lashed eyes nearly made him forget what he had been talking about.

      “I don’t regret anything, mind you, because of my babies, but the day I saw Ramsey Travers walk into the Cottonwood Grove General Store was the worst day of my life.” She shrugged her shoulders and cast a glance at the wagon, where Flynn slept. “I didn’t know it was, at the time...I thought it was the best. That day, watching Ram from across the street, I told my friends that I had fallen in love. They said I was silly—I couldn’t know that with just one glance. Well...until that point in my life I had been a cherished only child... What I knew about the world outside of Cottonwood Grove wouldn’t fill a thimble.”

      She turned Seth around on her lap, facing the other side of his blanket toward the flames.

      This close to winter, the woods were bare and silent. Still, there was a symphony in the air, with the crackle of the flames, the bubble of the spring and the branches overhead rustling against each other. And there was Joe, already snoring like a full-grown man.

      “I left my friends and crossed the street, pretending to need something—a ribbon or a gewgaw—I can’t recall, but it was something frivolous. Quite truthfully, Reeve, I was a frivolous girl. I flirted with Ram and he promised me the moon if only I’d sneak away with him. He filled my head with romance. He told me I was the first girl he’d ever kissed and the last one he ever wanted to. Fool I was to believe him.”

      “You were young. Besides, I’m the last person to judge youthful foolishness. I only want to see those folks stay where they belong.”

      “That would suit me fine.”

      The baby began to fuss. Seth turned his head toward his mother’s breast and gnawed at the blanket where it covered his cheek.

      “Looks like he wants a feeding.”

      Reeve got up and walked over to his saddle. He took a blanket out of his pack then carried it back and settled it over Melody’s shoulders.

      “Let me know when he’s settled.” He walked to the other side of the fire to check on the sleeping children. The deputy’s large coat had slipped from Pansy’s shoulder where it covered her and her sister like a blanket. He tugged it over the curve of her round, pink cheek.

      “You seem to know a thing about babies, Reeve.”

      His name sounded nice, the way she said it. It was hard to recall when someone had uttered it quite that way.

      “I have nieces. I know when it’s time to hand one back to her mother.”

      “Seth is settled in. Sit beside me so I can get this sorry tale over with.”

      He sat down a few inches closer than he had been before, but somehow it seemed the right distance.

      “We were to be married, be gone for only a day, he’d promised. We were to return and spring the grand and romantic news on my parents. I was so full of the dreams he’d spun I didn’t give anyone else’s feelings a thought. I left my folks without a word or a kiss, only a note that I later found among Ram’s things.

      “I was wretched to them when all they had ever been to me was devoted. Until Ram, the three of us had been each other’s world.”

      “Girls do grow up.” Way too fast. He thought about the little ones who hugged his thighs whenever he visited his sister. His heart twisted.

      “Most not so thoughtlessly,” she answered, staring at the flames. “I’ve told the children my folks will welcome me back, and them, as well. I only hope that’s true.”

      “Would you welcome Flynn or Seth in the same situation?”

      “I see your point, Reeve, but for all I know they might think I’m dead.”

      Reeve. Every time she said his name it sounded special. He gave himself a mental shake. It was time to wrangle his thoughts back to business.

      “They’ll be that much more relieved to see you, then. So, are you saying you weren’t kidnapped?”

      “Oh, I was...” She looked away from the fire and straight at him. “Half a day out of Cottonwood Grove we rode right past the Justice of the Peace where we were to be married. I told Ram that I’d changed my mind. I wanted to go home, to be married with my parents by my side. That gave him a good laugh and me a good cry.

      “We kept on riding, avoiding towns so I couldn’t tell anyone that he was taking me against my will, because by then he was. I tried to escape once and he tied me to the saddle until we got to the Badlands, where I wouldn’t dare try to run. Once we reached the Broken Brand, Pappy Travers married us. I had to say I do. They were going to punish Libby if I didn’t.”

      “I wonder if your marriage was legal?”

      “I signed a license that looked real. They say Pappy Travers became ordained, just so he could perform weddings at