My Precious Jewel

By Lilly Hale

Wyoming Territory, 1880
Though poor and uneducated, Jewel Hastings never imagined she’d become a criminal – until her twin brother Joey gets himself shot robbing a stage. Seeing no other alternative, Jewel abducts a doctor to save his life. Despite her fear, the uncooperative Wyoming weather, a cantankerous mule and a pair of broken spectacles, she manages to pull off the kidnapping.

Being manacled, blindfolded and dragged to an isolated homestead in the foothills of the Laramie Mountains isn’t exactly the way Sheriff Kane McClure planned to spend his evening, but he isn’t about to disappoint a couple of criminals who went to this much trouble to get themselves caught. Though he isn’t sure how he’s been mistaken for the town doctor, he’ll play the role for just long enough to ensure both miscreants end up in jail where they belong. When he discovers his captor is a young woman, he decides to employ a distraction as old as time to trick her into lowering her guard... seduction.

Naive to the games played between men and women, Jewel is no match for the handsome stranger’s calculated charms. His scorching kisses and forbidden touch have her head spinning and her britches damp. All too quickly, captive becomes captor and Jewel finds herself in the Pike Springs jail, held as bait to catch her outlaw brother.

Despite being on opposite sides of the law, the attraction between them burns red-hot, until it can no longer be denied, but can their desire overcome Kane’s dedication to his duty and Jewel’s loyalty to her twin?

WARNING: This romance novel contains explicit sex scenes, some of which may include language and acts that may offend gentle readers.

This story is a full-length novel, approximately 97,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lilly Hale
• Release date: Jul 12, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301907397

Lilly Hale

Lilly Hale is just a quiet, small town girl who writes sexy books. She lives in the Midwest with her husband, children and a couple of spoiled cats. Besides writing, she is a voracious reader, loves gardening, cooking and good wine. She’s also addicted to the video game, Dance Central, and refuses to feel guilty about it because it’s a good workout.

Book preview

Chapter One

Wyoming Territory, 1880

Damn you, Mister Wickham! Now look what you’ve done! My best pair ruined, all because you can’t keep that puny brain of yours off ruttin’ for five minutes! I swear I don’t know why I put up with the likes of you...stubborn, ornery....

Furious and frustrated, Jewel Hastings watched the object of her scorn nod and bare his long teeth in a show of defiance. She uttered a low groan, fighting back the urge to cry. All the cussing and crying in the world wouldn’t change the long-eared brute. He was what he was--ignorant, belligerent and not much to look at, but he was all she had. Even a lousy ride was better than none at all. There was nothing left to do but make the best of her rotten situation.

Jewel looked again at the tangle of wire and cracked glass in her hand. Perhaps they could be saved.

Holding them up to let the driving rain wash away some of the mud, she squinted, examining them closely in the dim light of early evening. It was just as she’d suspected when she heard the crunch of glass a few moments ago--the spectacles were unsalvageable.

Her stomach tightened like a fist, bringing her to the verge of nausea. What she had to do tonight was risky even with all her faculties intact, but now... Good God, how was she going to pull this off when she could barely see well enough to count her fingers an arm’s length from her face? If only she’d had the foresight to bring along her spare pair of spectacles. If only she’d hidden herself and Wickham on the other side of the barn, where the strong wind would have carried the scent of the mare away from them, instead of straight under her horny mule’s nose. If only the weather had cooperated. If only...

Jewel shivered beneath her heavily-woven poncho as a gust of wind lifted the brim of her beat-up Stetson, driving pellets of cold spring rain against her cheeks. There was no help for it now. She would go ahead with her plan, and she would succeed.

Abduction was the only answer. Her brother’s life depended on it.

Mr. Wickham stretched out his neck and peeled his lips away from his teeth, catching the scent of the mare in the barn. Snorting, he reared his head and danced nervously. Jewel tightened her grip on the reins and planted her booted feet firmly apart in the mud. Settle down, y’shaved-tailed knobhead! Knock me on my butt again and you’ll find yourself on the inside of a glue pot.

The mule tossed his head up and down, showing not a speck of remorse for the ruckus that had sent her spectacles flying off her face to be crushed beneath his hooves. She had the feeling he knew very well her threat was an empty one. Blasted critter.

Jewel gave a hard tug on the reins and turned Wickham around. Come on. We’ve gotta get you upwind from that mare and me closer to the house so I can at least see the doc when he comes out.

Careful to stay out of sight, she led the anxious mule around the back of the barn, slogging through ankle-deep mud and manure. When they reached the opposite side, Wickham finally settled down and Jewel tied the reins to a poplar sapling. She peered through the concealing branches of a stunted cedar toward the small farm house twenty yards away. It appeared as a light-grey blur in the rain and gathering gloom of night, its windows as softly glowing smudges of gold. The black blur in front of it Jewel knew to be the doctor’s buggy--the one she’d trailed there from Pike Springs, some five or six miles to the east.

It would have been easier to have gotten this over with earlier, when there was still ample light. She could have made her move somewhere back in the rolling hills that separated this isolated little homestead from town, if the good doctor hadn’t been escorted by a red-haired giant of a man with a shotgun protruding ominously from his saddle holster. She’d opted to wait.

A small part of her was relieved that she hadn’t been forced to choose her brother’s welfare above that of the nameless patient who suffered inside that house. As much as she loved Joey and prayed for his recovery, she couldn’t get around the fact that his predicament was a direct result of his own misdeeds. To deprive an innocent person, stranger or not, of the care they desperately needed would have left her ridden with guilt.

Squinting, Jewel cursed under her breath. Without her glasses she would never be able to see the doctor when he stepped out the door. Hellfire! She couldn’t even see the door! She had to get closer.

You stay here, Wickham. And for Pete’s sake, behave yourself. The mule raised his nose a notch and pricked his long ears as if insulted by her suggestion that he would do anything less.

Making an impatient sound in the back of her throat, Jewel left Wickham and skulked across the darkened farmyard to a cluster of aspen and cedar closer to the house. From there she had a better view of the porch and could even make out the willow broom propped up next to the front door. This would do well enough. She would have no problem seeing the man when he came out that door.

And when he did, the good Dr. Whitney would find himself on his way to make another house call--handcuffed and blindfolded.

Jewel wiped a drop of water from the end of her nose and, teeth chattering, hunkered down to wait. Her behind was soaked from her earlier tumble in the mud, the icy wetness slowly seeped through the seat of her pants and the cloth of her drawers. It was a miserable feeling. A miserable night. Kidnapping was not high on her list of ways to pass a rainy evening. She’d much rather be back home in the ramshackle cabin she and her twenty-year-old twin brother, Joey, called home, curled up in front of the old stone fireplace, reading one of their late mother’s cherished books.

Instead, she was here, freezing and half-blind, getting ready to break the law, performing a criminal act that would likely land a price on her head--just like Joey’s.

If there was another option, she’d failed to discover it in the hours she’d spent wracking her brain for a way to help her brother. No doctor in his right mind would submit willingly to being blindfolded and led to some distant cabin in the foothills, and Jewel couldn’t take the chance that he might recognize Joey’s face and be able to escort the law right to their cabin door.

All because three days ago her brother’s recklessness had finally caught up to him in the form of a bullet.

A woman’s hoarse cry pierced through the watery drone of the rainstorm. Jewel winced and gazed sympathetically toward the lighted window of the house. Closing her eyes for an instant, she said a quick prayer for both the unfortunate woman and Joey.

The wailing continued for a long time, finally replaced by the raspy squall of a newborn baby. Shivering beneath her rain gear, Jewel spared a smile for the tiny new life inside the farmhouse before she steeled herself--her time to move would be soon.

The front door opened at last, letting the muffled drone of voices out into the night. A man followed. Jewel squinted to see his form more clearly. Even without her spectacles, she was able to make out his dark coat and flat-brimmed hat, and just before he shut the door behind him, she saw the glossy black satchel he carried. Her muscles tensed. It was him, her quarry.

Her fingers were numb, so she rubbed them briskly against her denim pants to restore a bit of circulation, then pulled her brother’s forty-five Colt from its holster under her poncho. Jewel left her hiding place and crept swiftly up behind her victim. Her boots made a sucking sound in the mud with each step, but the wind and rain must have drowned it out because the doctor didn’t hear her approach. He hoisted the bag into the back of the buggy and pulled a canvas tarp over it. Just before he turned toward the barn, Jewel pressed the barrel of her gun against his spine, rendering him instantly motionless.

Jewel hesitated, sizing up her catch. She’d never met the man before, knew him only from the name on the shingle that hung on his office door. But damned if he didn’t seem a lot bigger than he’d looked from a distance when she’d trailed him out here. Up close, Doc Whitney was at least six feet tall and had shoulders as broad as an ax handle was long. Holy crow! If she’d known he was going to be as big as a lumberjack, she would have... would have--oh, heck, she would have done the same thing. She had no other choice.

Willing her hand not to tremble, she cleared her throat. I ain’t aimin’ to hurt you, Doc, she croaked in a low voice she hoped would pass for masculine. But if you force me, I won’t hesitate to use this here gun.

What the-

I’ll do the talkin’ for now. You’d be smart to shut your yap and listen. Jewel struggled to keep her voice steady. She couldn’t afford to let him sense her fear. Like I said before, I don’t want to do you no harm, it’s just that I have a friend who’s in need of your services. He can’t come to you, so I’m takin’ you to him. Keeping the gun pressed firmly at his back, she reached under her poncho and pulled out a set of old manacles, souvenirs from her father’s stay in a Confederate prison camp. Now, put your hands behind you real slow-like.

The doctor hesitated. Listen, son, you’re making a mistake if you think I’m-

No, Doc. You’re makin’ the mistake if you’re thinkin’ about givin’ me trouble. She had to put a lid on any thoughts he had of resisting. For if he did take it in his head to jump her and found out she was a woman, all would be lost. If I have to put a hole in you, I will. It’d be a mite inconvenient for me to have to travel the extra ten miles to Chugwater and nab another sawbones, but I’d make do. So what’ll it be? You ready to put your hands behind your back like the smart fella you look to be, or are you plannin’ to make this a real unpleasant experience for us both?

*

Kane McClure silently cursed his rotten luck.

Right about now, he should have been relaxing in a leather wingback, sharing brandy and a good cigar with Alonzo King, the county’s wealthiest rancher, basking in the pleasant afterglow of a fine meal prepared by King’s classically trained chef. But as fate would have it, he’d made a small detour on his way to King’s sprawling ranch. He’d decided to stop and pay a visit to Frank Cummings, a local farmer and acquaintance, and arrived just in time to find Maude Cummings in labor with her first child, then stayed to help out when Frank made a frantic dash to town to fetch Dr. Whitney. Not only had Kane missed supper, but now, by the looks of things, he wouldn’t be enjoying the equally fine company of Miss Philomena King at all that evening.

Like himself, Philomena had been educated back east. She’d even been to Europe and rubbed elbows with nobility, which made her about as uncommon, in these parts, as a two-door outhouse. He’d been looking forward to a few hours of conversation that went beyond tawdry town gossip and the weather. It would have been a pleasant, relaxing evening.

Instead, Kane thought with mounting anger, it appeared he’d be spending it in the company of a smart-ass kid, too young--by the sound of his voice--or too stupid to know what he was getting himself into. The kid was inexperienced, that Kane knew for certain. He could smell the fear. It clung to the boy like the scent of embalming fluid to an undertaker. And if there was one thing Kane had learned in his twenty-nine years, it was that a scared man was a dangerous man. He’d have to take it real easy with this one or end up ingesting a very unhealthy dose of lead.

Releasing an angry breath, Kane slowly moved his hands to the small of his back. Just relax, son. I won’t give you any trouble. He heard the dull, metallic clatter of iron, then felt the cold, heavy bands of manacles clamp around his wrists one at a time. Higher up his back, the menacing pressure of the gun barrel didn’t ease for an instant.

Glad to hear that, Doc. With a sense of relief, Kane noted that the kid’s voice had lost some of its nervous edge once the manacles were in place. Now, you just keep your eyes in front of you where they belong while we mosey on over to the barn and see to your mount. The kid grabbed the black medical bag from the buggy, all the while using the gun to nudge him along, and steered Kane across the muddy farmyard. C’mon, hurry up. We ain’t got all night.

Once inside the darkened barn, the boy pulled Kane to a stop. I’m goin’ to saddle up your horse. You’re goin’ to stay right here. And to make sure you do just that... Kane grumbled an oath as his hat was knocked off and a musty burlap bag tossed over his head in its place. Now, I want you to turn ‘round seven times.

What?

Well, I can’t have you makin’ a run for it when my back’s turned, can I? The boy grabbed Kane’s shoulder and gave him a shove to get him started. This here’ll make you good n’dizzy.

After the seventh turn Kane was staggering, and his abductor pushed him down. He winced when he felt the suspiciously soft pile that cushioned his fall. One whiff confirmed his suspicion. Damnit all, kid! These were my best pair of pants!

From underneath the burlap, Kane could see a soft light flare near him as the boy lit a lamp. Oh, uh, sorry about that, Doc.

Hell... Kane muttered as he heard the boy move away, followed by the sound of him readying a horse. He tried to concentrate, hoping to stop the spinning in his head. Doc. Once again he was reminded of his abductor’s goal: to acquire medical help for an injured friend. It was obvious that the friend--and probably the kid himself--were already in trouble with the law, otherwise there would be no need for the subterfuge. Kane toyed with the idea of trying to talk the young fellow out of going through with the kidnapping, but thought better of it.

Somewhere out there in the night, a wounded criminal awaited him, and his sense of duty wouldn’t allow him to back out now. The poor man needed tending.

Beneath the burlap, Sheriff McClure’s mouth curved in a menacing smile. He’d tend him, by God, and afterwards, he’d take care of this one, too.

Chapter Two

How far are we going, son? California?

Jewel spared a glance back at her prisoner. Despite the fact he was soaking wet, had his hands bound behind his back and a dirty burlap bag over his head, he held his seat with an ease that spoke of years in the saddle. Just hold your horses, Doc. We’ll be there pretty quick.

The only thing I can hold at the moment is the seat of my pants. Not that I’d want to, of course, since it’s covered with fresh horse shit. He made a noise of disgust. And is this damn bag really necessary? It reeks of the most god-awful perfume.

Knowing he couldn’t see her reaction, Jewel self-consciously pulled the neck of her poncho over her nose and sniffed. That ‘god-awful perfume’ he complained about was her mother’s. It was one of the few items she owned that made her feel feminine and the scent brought back pleasant memories. She’d been so preoccupied with Joey’s welfare that it hadn’t even occurred to her to wash it off before leaving the cabin. Too late now. She’d just have to make sure the doctor didn’t get close enough to smell her.

God-awful, is it? Well, then, Dr. Hoity-toity, you can just keep your dang nose to yourself.

He leaned forward in the saddle. What was that? You have to speak up if you want me to hear you above the noise of this wind.

I said quit your blasted belly-achin’! You ain’t on a pleasure ride, you know. This is business.

Ah, yes. You’re counting on me to save your dying friend.

His words sent a chill shooting down her spine. He ain’t dyin!

Is that right? came his taunting reply. You boys being in trouble with the law and all, I doubt whether you’d have risked your neck coming out of hiding to abduct a doctor if this friend of yours weren’t close to buying the proverbial farm.

He ain’t gonna die, Jewel repeated with cold steel in her voice, because you and me ain’t gonna let him.

If I do manage to save his hide, how do I know you won’t do away with me once he’s out of the woods?

Look, as long as you do your job, you got my word you’ll be released safely.

The word of an outlaw...now that’s something you can take to the bank.

His sarcastic drawl grated at her. Word or no word, you’re a doctor. You fellas sign some kind of oath that says you have to save a life, no matter whose it is. Ain’t that right?

Yes, doctors are bound to the Hippocratic Oath. Just like lawman are sworn to uphold the law of the land.

Then it’s settled. You do your duty and I’ll keep my word to let you go afterward.

There was silence for the next few minutes, nothing but the howl of the wind through the budding branches of the trees and the hissing patter of rain against Jewel’s poncho as the horses carefully picked their way along the edge of a shallow ravine. Without her glasses, the nighttime landscape was all an inky blur to Jewel. If it weren’t for Wickham’s uncanny ability to find his way home from just about anywhere, they could very well have ended up hopelessly lost until morning. But they were nearing their destination now. She could sense it by the way Wickham’s pace had quickened and his long ears pricked up and forward. Hang on Joey, we’re almost there.

Since I’m going to be treating this friend of yours, the doctor called out, why don’t you fill me in on the nature of his injuries. Am I correct in assuming they’re gunshot wounds?

Wound. Just one. He took a bullet in his lower back, left side. Just above his hip.

Is there any swelling in his abdomen? His belly?

You don’t need to dumb down your talk for me, Jewel snapped. I know what an abdomen is. I ain’t stupid.

A gruff snort of laughter escaped from beneath the burlap bag. Well now, given your choice of profession, I’d say that’s debatable.

Jewel’s face grew hot with anger. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t! Once upon a time, she’d wanted to attend school, more than anything. Unfortunately, she’d had to settle for being taught at home by a mother with the best of intentions, but very meager materials.

Jewel quickly squelched the unwanted self-pity and gave a sharp tug on the rope that ran from her saddle to his mount’s halter, which caused the bay gelding to lurch forward. Her captive swayed precariously and gripped the back edge of the saddle with his manacled hands.

Whoops! Better shut your yap and hold on there, Doc. We’re coverin’ some rough territory and this rain can make the goin’ a mite dicey. It’d be a shame if you was to fall and put a dent in that great big brain o’ yours.

He grumbled a few choice words under his breath that Jewel suspected weren’t big and fancy, but of the good, old-fashioned, four-letter variety.

*

Smart-ass kid. Kane kept a tight grip on the back of his saddle as the miserable journey continued. He wondered how long it would be before his deputy, Duncan, would find out he was missing. With any luck, Frank Cummings or Dr. Whitney was on his way to town right now. Certainly they’d wonder why he hadn’t returned after stepping out to hitch the doctor’s horse back up to the carriage, and when they discovered his black gelding still in the barn and the doctor’s horse missing, they would suspect foul play. But even if Duncan started the search tonight, he would have a hard time finding and following their trail in this rain. There was a good chance he could wait for days to be found.

To hell with that! He didn’t have that much patience. He’d handle things on his own and be out of this mess in considerably less time. Practically no time at all, given the fact that one of the misfits he’d be dealing with was already knocking on death’s door and the other was as green as a June apple.

Finally, the kid announced, We’re here.

Kane’s mount stilled beneath him and he heard his captor dismount, then wet, sucking footsteps approaching. A hand clamped on to his forearm. C’mon now, time to get down. Hurry up.

Kane leaned forward to remove his foot from the stirrup, but paused to regain his balance as the horse beneath him shifted nervously. At the young man’s snort of impatience he snapped, Just keep your pants on. This isn’t an easy task considering my hands are manacled and I can’t see a damned thing.

Don’t you worry none about that, Doc. My pants are stayin’ put, right where they belong. Yours, on the other hand, better be leavin’ that saddle by the time I count three.

Three? That’s quite a goal you’ve set for yourself. Better make it two, or we could be here all night.

He heard a low snarl of anger before the hand on his arm tightened its grip and jerked him cockeyed in the saddle. Need a little help followin’ orders, do ya? Well, I’ll be more n’ happy to lend a hand. Another harder jerk followed.

Ah, hell-

The impact with the ground was softer than expected, accompanied by a loud Ooof! from the kid, who obviously hadn’t sidestepped out of the way fast enough. Kane felt the slight body squirm underneath him. Why, thank you. That was mighty thoughtful of you to break my fall like that.

Small fists shoved at his chest. Hell, there wasn’t enough strength behind those shoves to move a large dog, let alone a grown man. Scrawny little runt--all mouth and no muscle to back it up. The stink of the cheap perfume he’d been enduring all evening became stronger with every thrashing movement of the kid beneath him. Phew! You been dallying with the ladies from Flora’s Place over in Slater? Next time, you might want to take a bath afterwards. It’s not good for your reputation as an outlaw if you pull your next job smelling like a whore.

Get--get off me, you big jack-ass!

A well-aimed blow caught Kane squarely on the ear. Ouch, damnit! He rolled away and onto the wet ground.

You better watch yourself, mister! I might just decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth. Hellfire, I don’t know if I want a sawbones as clumsy as you to work on my brother anyhow. The boy struggled to his feet and grabbed Kane’s arm to help pull him upright.

So it’s your brother, is it? I should have guessed. No wonder you’re taking such a big risk to save his hide. Kane couldn’t see, but he could sense by the awkward silence that the kid was silently cursing himself for saying too much.

All right, so he’s my kin. And I’d likely go plum crazy furious if he didn’t pull through. I might even put a bullet in you, just to make myself feel better. The gun prodded Kane in the back. You remember that while you’re workin’ on him, Doc.

Kane couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sympathy for the boy was in way over his head. But that twinge was fleeting. These were criminals he was dealing with, and he had a job to do. Loyalty among thieves is a rare thing. Your mama must be very proud of you boys.

*

Holding the gun firmly to the doctor’s back, Jewel reached around him and opened the door to the darkened cabin. The fire she’d laid before she left that morning had long since gone out, and the main room was cold, damp and still. Terror gripped her heart. No, dear God, please don’t let him have died alone in the dark! She nudged the man inside, pushing him against the wall next to the door.

Sit down and don’t move.

Jewel fumbled in the dark for a match and lit the lamp on the table in the middle of the room. As its soft glow illuminated the sparsely furnished room, her gaze shot to the corner near the fireplace where she’d left Joey that morning, half-conscious and facedown in his bed, his skin flushed with fever.

Her heart thumped hollowly inside her chest. He was exactly as she’d left him. Oh God, he was so still.

Joey! All rational thought dropped away as she lunged to his side. Her hands touched the bare skin of his back--still warm, still alive. She brushed his too-long chestnut hair away from his face and tears stung her eyes. I’m back, she whispered near his ear, I brought the doc and he’s gonna fix you up real good. Don’t worry. Everything’s gonna be fine now. But his skin was more than just warm, it was burning hot and dry.

She went to where her captive sat next to the door and helped him to his feet. All right, Doc, time to do your thing. He’s burnin’ up with fever. You gotta get that bullet out.

Her palms began to sweat as she unlocked the manacles. His fingers flexed open and closed, and Jewel swallowed hard, thinking of the damage hands that large and powerful could do if they ever got hold of her. But these were the hands of a doctor, she silently reassured herself, trained to save lives, not take them.

Still, when he started to raise his arms, she jumped like a frightened cat, her gun immediately pressed back against his spine.

He froze. I’m not going to be able to help your brother if you don’t let me remove this sack.

She watched as he swept off the covering, revealing a head of tousled, dark brown hair. He inhaled a deep breath. Ah, fresh air.

Jewel ground her teeth. She’d had enough of his wisecracks about her perfume. She gave him a shove. Shut up and get busy. There’s water over there in that pitcher by the bed where you can wash some of the mud off you.

He peeled off his mud-soaked jacket and tossed it to the floor at the foot of the bed, then rolled up the sleeves of what was once a white shirt, now stained with the grime that had seeped through his outer garment. Even filthy, it was obvious his clothes were of a fine quality. If he wore clothes that nice on a house call, what in the heck did he wear when he was out socializing? A silk suit and gold-plated shoes?

Drying his hands on a much-mended towel, the doctor approached the bed, pulled