The Rebel

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

Exhausted from battling the blowing snow of a late winter storm, Belle Outlaw knew that she couldn’t make it another mile. The skies had been clear when she left Colorado, but the weather had turned nasty. She’d hoped to make it to Texas but was now desperate to find a place to stop for the rest of the night. When she spotted a flickering motel sign ahead, she knew her prayers had been answered. Pulling the U-Haul trailer into the portico by the office, she stumbled out of her SUV and rented a room from the sleepy desk clerk.

“Bad out tonight,” he said as he handed her the key to unit ten.

She only nodded.

Somehow Belle managed to drive to a place near the door of her assigned room, lock her SUV and make it inside. She didn’t even try to bring in her overnight bag. It was well below freezing outside, but she was burning up. Fever, she knew. With her luck she’d probably die alone in some ratty motel room in the middle of nowhere, and the maid would find her when she came to clean the room.

She ought to call somebody—but who? She didn’t want her parents to worry about her, and her older brothers had families and didn’t need to come charging to her rescue. That left Sam, her baby brother. Sam Outlaw, the Texas Ranger. Texas Rangers could handle anything.

It took three tries before she managed to correctly dial Sam’s number—and four rings before he answered.

“Oh, Sam. Thank God you’re home.”

“Belle? Is that you? Where the hell else would I be? Do you know what time it is?”

“I give up.”

“It’s one o’clock in the morning.”

“Sorry, Sam. Sorry. I need help. Come get me.”

“Belle, have you been drinking? Where are you?”

“Only coffee. I don’t know. A motel somewhere in New Mexico, I think. Or maybe I made it to Texas. I tried.”

“Where’s Matt?”

“Matt who?”

“Matt, your husband.”

“I have no husband,” Belle said. “Come get me, Sam. I think I’m dying.”

“Belle, hon—”

The phone went dead. She let it drop, fell back on the bed and wrapped the spread around her like swaddling.

“GABE, GABE, WAKE UP!”

Gabe Burrell opened one eye. Where was he? Oh, yeah, Sam’s lake house. “It can’t be time to get up yet, Sam. I just got to sleep.”

“Listen, we’ll have to cancel our fishing trip. I think my sister’s sick and I have to get to her pronto.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Damned if I know. She was talking crazy. But if Belle asked for help it has to be bad.”

Gabe threw back the covers and grabbed his pants. “I’ll go with you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I traced the number to a little motel in a place that’s a grease spot on the map near Dalhart in the panhandle, but now the phones are out in that area. I think there’s a municipal airport nearby.”

“Make us some coffee while I check out the weather conditions to see what we can fly.”

BELLE FOUGHT TO OPEN her eyes, but they didn’t want to cooperate. Everything was bright and blinding white, and she felt as if she were floating. Was she in heaven?

Shielding her eyes from the dazzling brightness, she made out the silhouette of a man. His hair was spun gold and lit by a bright halo.

“Who—who are you?” she croaked. Her tongue was thick, and her mouth felt packed with cotton batting.

“I’m Gabe Burrell.”

“Gabriel? I thought St. Peter was in charge here. Where’s your horn?” He chuckled. “My horn? I don’t have a horn, darlin’. Sorry.”

“Gotta have a horn.”

“Years ago I had a saxophone but it’s long gone.”

“No sax. A trumpet. Blow, Gabriel, blow.”

He chuckled again, and she was going to ask what was funny, but she was too tired.

When she opened her eyes again, the angel was gone and Sam was sitting beside her.

“Sam?”

“In the flesh.”

“Aren’t we in heaven anymore?”

“No, Ding-dong, we’re in the hospital. You’ve been sick. Pneumonia. You’ve been pretty much out of it for three days. How are you feeling?”

“Like an elephant’s sitting on my chest. Three days?”