Once A Bandit

By Diana Bold

When heavily pregnant Susannah Barrett finds a wounded man on her ranch, she has no choice but to take him home with her to give him time to heal. Josh Morgan has no memory of the bank robbery or dangerous gang he was a part of, When he wakes up and finds a beautiful woman in the throes of labor, he assumes she's his wife. Susannah finds herself drawn into a dangerous web of lies as she continues to let the beautiful stranger believe he is her husband, Caleb, a worthless gambler who actually abandoned her and then was killed a few months later. But Josh's memories are bound to return, and when they do, will he forgive her or leave her, too?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diana Bold
• Release date: May 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393144014

Diana Bold

All my life, I've wanted to a writer. Even as a child, my sister claims all I ever did was sit in my closet and scribble in a notebook. In any event, I won my first writing contest when I was seven, and I was hooked! I married young, and soon had three wonderful little boys running around the house, so writing took a backseat for several years as I worked a variety of jobs that I hated. Once I started seriously pursuing a writing career, I found it was not as easy as I had expected, and I was not the prodigy I had imagined. But I joined a writer's group and made a ton of writing friends along the way who showed me the error of my ways and unselfishly helped me get a little better. By the time I sold my first book in 2006, I'd already been at this for over ten years and was about ready to give up. Rejection is hard!!! But holding that first book in my hands made it all worth it! Now my sons are all grown up, and two of them have babies of their own. But I now have all the time in the world to devote to telling the stories that just won't let me sleep. Hope you enjoy them! Love, Diana Diana 

Book preview

Dedication

For Elizabeth Reyes , who has brought such fun and happiness into my life. I love your sense of humor and your sweet and caring heart. You are one of the good ones!

Prologue

If not for the snowstorm , he might have made it.

Until those first damning snowflakes fell, Josh Morgan had been well on his way to escaping with the fifty thousand dollars he’d stolen from the bloodthirsty outlaw who’d raised him. He’d meant to hide out in the foothills for a few days, then head south once the dust settled.

But snow meant tracks, and tracks meant that either the gang he’d double-crossed or the sharp-eyed lawmen determined to bring him to justice would soon be hot on his heels. He spurred the horse beneath him, trying to focus on the certain pleasure on Carrie’s beloved face when he showed up in the New Mexico Territory and told her they were going back east. This money meant he’d finally be able to give her the life he’d always promised, and he had no intention of letting this chance slip away.

Unfortunately, the sounds of hoofbeats, creaking leather, and snatches of conversation filtered through the trees on the chill wind. Though he couldn’t see who was closing in on him, he had a bad feeling it was Clyde and the rest of the gang. Better it had been the marshals. He didn’t relish the thought of prison, but he found iron bars far preferable to the fate Clyde no doubt had in store for him.

The price of his betrayal would be steep. He feared he’d pay with his life.

Grimly, he scanned the surrounding area for some sort of landmark as he grabbed a handful of cash out of the leather satchel that held his loot. He’d take just enough to get him through the next few days and hide the rest. If he managed to elude his pursuers, he’d come back. If he didn’t, at least he’d die with the satisfaction of knowing Clyde would never get his hands on their ill-gotten gains.

Chapter One

Susannah Barrett found the stranger face down in her back pasture, a pool of frozen blood crusting the snow at his temple. She stared down at him, torn between sadness for what he’d suffered and fear for what his presence on her land meant for her quiet, solitary life. Cradling her shotgun beneath one arm, she awkwardly lowered her pregnant bulk from the back of her horse, casting nervous glances toward the line of trees on the ridge.

A hail of gunfire had woken her in the middle of the night, and she’d spent the hours until dawn huddled in a terrified heap against the wall of her cabin, fully expecting outlaws to burst through the door. When morning came without incident, she’d gathered her courage and forced herself to investigate; afraid someone had poached one of her handful of cattle.

Instead, she’d discovered this poor dead man.

Trembling, she sank to her knees in the snow beside the victim of last night’s violence, wondering what had happened and how he’d gotten here. She lived nearly ten miles from the nearest town.

Given her advanced pregnancy, she didn’t know how she’d find the strength to bury him in the frozen ground, but if she left the corpse out in the open, it was bound to draw predators. Biting her lip, she set her gun aside and started going through his pockets, hoping to find some clue to his identity.

As she pulled out a thick wad of greenbacks, he gave a soft, pain-filled moan. Gasping, she shoved the money back in his pocket and scrambled away, her heart thundering in her chest.

He’s alive.

Once she’d regained her composure, she crept forward, pressing her icy fingertips against his throat until she felt the slow, steady pulse of life beneath his skin. A bullet had grazed his temple, yet somehow he’d survived both the wound and a night spent out in the freezing cold.

Gripping his shoulder, she pushed with all her might until she was able to roll him on his back. He moaned again, but then opened his eyes and blinked up at her, his green eyes glassy with pain.

What happened? he asked, in a raw, shredded voice.

I don’t know. She swept her gaze over his long, lean body, trying to see if he’d suffered any other injuries. The handsome blond stranger wore a pair of pearl-handled pistols around his waist, and he was young, probably not much older than her own twenty-three years. To her relief, he didn’t appear to be wounded anywhere else.

My head hurts. He lifted one hand to his temple, then winced and closed his eyes, swallowing convulsively. Despite the cold, his forehead was beaded with sweat. I think I’m going to be sick.

Can you walk? she asked softly.

Maybe. He took a few deep, steadying breaths, then planted his hands on the ground and pushed himself to a sitting position. With a groan, he clasped his head in his hands and rocked back and forth, muttering obscenities beneath his breath.

She got to her feet, staring down at him in dismay. If he couldn’t make it back to the cabin under his own steam, she didn’t know how she was going to get him there. For the hundredth time, she silently cursed her husband, Caleb, for getting her pregnant and then abandoning her to fend for herself in this hostile place. He’d left her when he’d found out she was pregnant, then gotten himself killed a few months later. She had no one to