The Renegade's Redemption - Stacy Henrie Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical

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it. “I think he’s been wounded.” But how? A sliver of dread traveled up her spine. Had his injury been an unfortunate accident? Or had someone hurt him, and if so, was the offender still close by?

      “He’s wounded,” Mark repeated with awe, sounding far too impressed.

      “Go get Jacob from the barn, Mark,” she directed. The injured man didn’t need the boys gawking at him as she tried to clean the dirt from his face and revive him. “We’ll need Jacob to help us assist this man to the house. Luke, get some water.”

      They took off at a dash, their childish voices full of wonder as they talked over each other. Ravena allowed herself a small smile at their antics. They might tire her out with their innocent mischief, especially since her grandfather’s passing, but they were good boys.

      Taking a corner of her apron in hand, she gently began wiping the dirt from the stranger’s bearded face. He stirred, prompting her to console him. “We’re here to help. You’ve passed out in our field, but we’ll get you up to the house in a minute.” She’d probably need to send one of the boys for the doctor. “Can you hear me, sir? We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

      When he didn’t respond, she resumed cleaning his face. She was concentrating on brushing the last of the dirt from his beard before she realized he’d gone completely still. Was he truly dead and gone this time? Jerking her gaze to his, Ravena found his eyes open. Brilliantly blue eyes—familiar eyes—which peered directly at her.

      Her heart flew into her throat as she studied his face, now absent of dirt. There were age lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him, as well as tiny red cuts where his beard didn’t cover his tanned skin. But the dark eyebrows, the arch of his jaw, the brown hair lying damp against his forehead were still as recognizable as they’d always been.

      “Tex?” His name barely made it past her lips, but a faint smile creased his mouth at hearing it.

      “Hello, Ravena,” he murmured in a hoarse voice, which only confirmed the truth.

      For better or worse, Tex Beckett had just stumbled back into her life.

       Chapter Two

      Despite his feverish haze, Tex caught a full glimpse of Ravena’s face, furrowed in concern and shock. If possible, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. The girl of nineteen he’d left behind was now a grown woman.

      “Tex, what are you doing here?” Her compassionate tone of moments before had disappeared, replaced by one of firmness and cool indifference. He’d expected as much. Thankfully she hadn’t yet walked away, leaving him to fend for himself.

      He swallowed past his parched throat and shut his eyes against the glaring sun. “Could I...get some water?” he asked, dodging her question for the moment.

      “Yes, Luke is on his way back with some right now.”

      Luke? Tex didn’t remember anyone named Luke living here. Perhaps it was a hired hand or maybe one of the many orphans Ravena’s grandfather had taken in through the years.

      A young boy’s excited voice pierced his thoughts. “We got the water and Jacob’s coming.”

      “Thank you, Mark,” Ravena replied.

      At the mention of the needed water, Tex pried his eyes open to find Ravena leaning over him with a cup in her hand. Behind her, two boys, who must be Luke and Mark, stared wide-eyed at him. If he hadn’t felt so near death, he might have chuckled at the horrified fascination on the orphans’ young faces. He would’ve felt the same had a stranger collapsed in his family’s field when he was a boy.

      “I’ll help you drink.” Ravena lifted his head a few inches above the dirt and brought the cup to Tex’s dry lips. Her cool fingers were a reprieve from the fever. After a few swallows, he turned his chin away to indicate he was finished.

      His thirst abated, he realized his head and side felt awful. Still, there were questions that needed asking. “How many orphans do you have right now?” he questioned, trying to work up to what he really wanted to find out about her.

      “Five.”

      “And your husband...” He wasn’t under any illusion that Ravena hadn’t married in his absence. It was only a matter of how much time had passed before she’d met someone else to claim her heart as Tex once had.

      Her brow scrunched in confusion. “My husband?”

      “Miss Ravena ain’t married,” the taller of the two boys volunteered. The news brought Tex unexplainable relief as did the shade from Ravena’s shadow as she stood over him. It wasn’t as if he’d come here to win her back. He’d slammed that door shut and locked it tight the moment he’d robbed his first bank. Still it pleased him to know no one else had captured her fancy.

      Ravena appeared to draw in a steadying breath. “It’s isn’t married, Mark. Not ain’t married.” She glanced at Tex. “And Mark is correct. I’m not married.”

      “How’s your grandfather?” Tex managed to ask next, though the pain and the heat were making it harder and harder to think clearly.

      “He died three months ago.” Her hair hid her expression as she bent to pick up a gun from off the grass, but her anguished tone told him what her face hadn’t.

      Sorrow flooded through Tex at the news. Not just for the loss of an honorable, generous man but for Ravena as well. She’d lost her parents to illness as a young child and now to have both grandparents gone too. Tex remembered a little about her grandmother, but her grandfather had been more of a father to him than his own father. He’d greatly admired Ezra Reid, even when they hadn’t always seen eye to eye. Especially regarding Tex’s ability to properly care for Ravena eight years ago.

      “Ah, here’s Jacob.” She took a step away from Tex, allowing the harsh sun to beat down on him again. “He’ll help us get you to the house.”

      Between the assistance of Ravena and the dark-haired youth named Jacob, Tex managed to get to his feet. Dizziness made the field seem like it was tipping one way, then the other, and he had to pause before he could start walking. He hated being at the mercy of others, but he had little choice. If he saw a doctor, he’d most likely be arrested, so he’d chosen to manage his gunshot wound himself. He’d done the best he could, and yet, he knew his current illness meant his efforts hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped. He needed rest and proper care if he wanted to heal.

      “We’ll get your horse, mister,” Mark said, his eyes alight with childlike excitement.

      “Thank you,” he ground out between clenched teeth. Walking was proving more difficult than riding, even though Ravena and Jacob had him propped between them.

      After a few minutes, the younger boys grew tired of Tex’s laborious pace and moved ahead, leading his horse around them and toward the barn while Tex, Ravena and Jacob continued plodding along. Sweat slid down his temples and soaked the back of his shirt. It wasn’t the most attractive way to greet one’s former sweetheart. Ravena seemed to be repressing any further questions, which suited him just fine. If he didn’t pass out before they reached the house, he would consider his first thirty minutes back in her presence a wild success.

      “You have some older orphans or a hired hand helping out?” he asked, as much out of curiosity as to keep his mind off the pain radiating from his wound with each step forward. The Reid farm was on the smaller side, but with her grandfather gone, Ravena would still need help.

      To his surprise, she shook her head. “Not anymore. The man I hired quit this morning.”

      He glanced over in time to catch the worry that flitted over her pretty features. No wonder the field he’d collapsed in hadn’t been fully plowed. “What will you do now?”

      He was pushing into her private life, a life he had no business

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