Star’s hands shook, but she kept them in front of her so
Cord couldn’t tell how much seeing him after four long—damn
long—years affected her. He was a man grown all right, in
every sense of the word. Four years older than she, he was
a good head taller. His craggy face was darkened by the
sun, but the warmth of his dark eyes hadn’t changed since
the time he teased her at the age of six and dropped a mess
of earthworms in her lap in the town’s one-room
schoolhouse. And sadly enough at one time, he and her half-
brother had been the best of friends.
Now they were on the opposite sides of the law.
More important, this Cord Tate with his double six-shooters
was nothing like the lecherous lawyer with sweaty hands and
unyielding mouth her mother tried to marry her off to back
East. Her mama’s re-entry into polite society and Star was
the price. It’d taken Mama four years to find a man with
the right setup—respectability, money, social position—who
was willing to take an old maid daughter off her hands.
No indeed.
An unfamiliar stirring of emotions hit her from the moment
Cord identified himself. While she might’ve had a
schoolgirl’s crush before her mother dragged her along to
Boston, what she felt now didn’t feel very girlish. Her
feminine core clenched at the sight of his long legs and
muscular thighs while he cared for his horse before filling
his canteen. A man who took good care of his horse would
treat his woman with respect, too. But was it respect she
wanted?
Never mind what she wanted. She needed a husband and needed
one fast before they dispatched someone else to bring her
back. And Cordero Tate fit the bill on both accounts.