Strictly Taboo(120)

“You made it this far. I get to kill two generations of Blake’s at once. My luck is improving by the moment.”

Tied loosely to the bed with a sheet tied around her mouth was Mai. It was a bit stopping her from speaking. Her eyes spoke volumes as she pleaded for help. Angus pulled his sword from its sheath. Lord Grey Harper did the same and positioned himself to fight.

Swords were crossed and battle ensued. Lord Donald Blake stood back as he let his son fight his own battle. Letting Angus fight for the woman he loved was difficult for both he and Rufus. In an instant, Lord Harper turned and placed his blade on Lord Donald Blake’s throat. Angus gasped.

“I have been waiting a long time to exact my revenge on you Blake. You stole Lady Blair from me and for that you will pay.”

“I will gladly join my fair Lady Blair in the afterlife. My son and Mai will carry on tradition in Fife and that you cannot touch.” Lord Donald Blake closed his eyes and dropped his sword. Lord Harper drew his blade across his neck and he died instantly.

Rufus knocked Lord Harper’s bloody sword to the ground.

“Tis over. You lose Lord Harper.” Angus pierced him in the heart.

Angus untied Mai.

“I knew you would come Angus. I wasn’t even scared because I knew the end was in sight. I love you Angus. I misspoke, Lord Angus Blake.” She smiled.

“If I am to be Lord Blake then you shall be Lady Mai.”

They found Cox MacKnabb and with Rufus, they returned to the estate. The family grieved for Lord Donald Blake and buried him with highest honors. He died honorably in a battle to assure the continued stability of Fife and he was celebrated as a hero.

A wedding was planned for Angus and Mai. They already knew she was with child when they married. He was conceived on their first night together in the magical stone cottage. Angus took the emerald ring off his neck and paced it on Mai’s finger where it would remain forever.





The End



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The Cowboy’s Dream Bride





By: Lisa Cartwright





 Copyright 2015 by Lisa Cartwright All rights reserved.



In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.





Chapter 1

Clara held on to her small suitcase, in fact, she held on to it so mightily that her knuckles were turning white.

“Ma’am?” The man on the seat across from her was trying to get her attention. Afraid of what his attention might bring, she stared blankly out of the window and pretended not to hear him. “Ma’am?” This time he stood up and shook her shoulder gently. Clara looked at him, shocked that he would touch a single woman traveling alone. “Excuse me for botherin’ ya, but your knuckles is as white as if this is the first time you’ve been on a train.” He helped himself to the empty seat beside Clara.

“Well, not that it's any of your business, but it is the first time I have been on a train.” She said shortly.

“That’d explain it.” He said with a nod. Clara watched him through the reflection of the glass.

“Explain what, exactly?” She asked, this time turning to look at him. He was a fairly handsome man, slender with a thick black mustache and plenty of black hair atop his head.

“The way you're hangin’ on to that suitcase like an armadilla hangs on to its shell.” He said. Clara frowned.

“I'm sorry…a what?” She asked. The man laughed quietly.

“You ain't from around here are ya?” He asked. Clara looked at him suspiciously. He certainly was asking a lot of questions. “It's alright, you don't have to tell me. I already know anyway, cause if ya were, you'd be knowin’ what an armadilla was.” He brushed his mustache with his thumb and pointer finger. “Here…” Clara watched him as he reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out a pen and a small notepad. Flipping the notepad open, he proceeded to begin drawing. First he drew a C turned so it was facing downward and then he drew a rodent-like snout followed by four small feet and a long tail. He finished by adding thinner C shaped lines along the back of the bigger C. Finally he capped his pen, put it in his pocket and handed the notepad to Clara. “That,” he pointed at the paper, “there, is an armadilla.” Clara cocked her head

“Sir,” she said, handing him back the notebook, “while I am sure that your parlor games work on other ladies on this train, I regret to inform you that I am an educated woman. I have not, nor do I ever believe I will see one of these ‘armadilla’ creatures either back in Virginia nor here in Texas.” The man took his notebook back and slipped it back in to his jacket pocket.