Wedding Night With the Ranger Read Online Free

didn’t want his daughter marrying the high-and-mighty preacher any more than Colt wanted her to. Colt also comprehended that the man was presenting him the opportunity to get Annalee to the altar as fast as possible.
    Last night, when Koot had sobered up, Colt made his offer. Annalee’s hand in exchange for him not pressing charges. Grinning knowingly, Koot said it would have to be her choice. Then he insisted on leading a posse of men to Oklahoma to apprehend the rest of the rustlers. Colt didn’t bother to tell Koot he knew where the rest of his friends were. He reckoned the man didn’t need to know the ruse was up—leastwise not before Annalee agreed. Someday he’d have to thank his new father-in-law. A smile tugged at his lips. Koot was a smart man, and Annalee was right. Koot didn’t want to be in the same county as her when she heard of her father’s latest activities.
    He knew the feeling. This morning, half-afraid Annalee might shoot him, he’d put on his Sunday shirt and ridden to town to tell his blushing bride-to-be the news.
    With his head still hanging out of the window, Colt gulped for air in response to the guilt that slammed into his stomach. Koot may not have forced him into marriage, but he, Colt Severson, sure as hell had forced Annalee into it.
    Annalee Sapp was the belle of Dodge. She sang in the church choir, fed the homeless, nursed the sick, arranged funerals, found shelter for orphans, and didn’t accept male callers of any breed. Especially not a thirty-year-old, ex Texas Ranger who’d moved to Dodge set on making a fortune in the beef market. She was the highest of purity, he—in her eyes—the lowest. She’d told him so, quite bluntly, on the street corner when she rushed to the defense of the two ragamuffins he’d caught rifling through his saddlebags when he’d first moved to Kansas.
    They’d clashed a few other times, but for the most part, Miss Annalee Sapp kept to herself in a small house on the edge of town, refusing any and all male callers, except for the pastor of course, whom she rushed to assist at all hours of the day and night. The thought of how Reverend Mitchell questioned her approval of the marriage several times, including once during the ceremony itself, made his guts boil. It was clear the man of the cloth had had high hopes of keeping Annalee for himself. Colt clamped his back teeth together.
    In his opinion, Mitchell was little more than the devil wearing a starched white collar. Reverend or not, the man had better never step foot on the Highland or he’d find himself in need of a preacher to bury him a good six feet underground.
    After several deep breaths, which did provide a relative amount of control, Colt pulled his head in and turned about. He had to tell her the truth.
    Arms folded over her breasts, she stood on the far side of the bed, lips pinched and glaring at him.
    Then his body started to throb again. Even looking as friendly as a wet hornet, he wanted her, was ready to strip every inch of pink silk off her luscious body and toss her on the bed. He tightened every controllable muscle and glanced down at the table near the window. Gleaming in the fading sunlight, the penny sat on the lacy doily. He picked it up, twirled it between his fingers.
    She needed time to get used to the idea of marriage, of what the union included, which meant he had to take it slow, give her time to get to know him, and make certain his lust for her didn’t send her running for the hills. Then he’d tell her the truth. He folded his fingers around the coin, realizing he needed all the luck he could get.
    “Colt—” she started, but stopped when he held up a hand.
    Her big brown eyes, as wary as a newborn calf, watched as he walked around the bed. He crouched down and lifted her skirt a small amount. Twisting the penny sideways, so it could slide inside the high leather of her button-up boot, he released the coin. Rising beside her, he grasped both of her slender