“I have many baskets to sell,” Rose answered. Her hands moved steadily.
“You do not have to work anymore.”
Her mother’s eyes flickered before she looked down at her work. “It is something I’ve done since I was a small girl at my mother’s side. I will pay my way.”
Mary wanted to tell her mother that she didn’t owe her anything. This home was free. But Josie watched them with bright eyes, and the subject was much too personal to air in front of little ears.
Instead, she shrugged. “My trip to town was fruitful. There are a few store areas that look as though they’d fit my needs.” She’d discussed the ranch sale with her mother last night.
“And the cost?”
“I didn’t find out yet.” She shifted uncomfortably. Though she’d saved quite a bit in the past years, she wasn’t sure it would be enough to open a new business, let alone rent a space for a baker. If she was going to own a business, it would be for something she loved to do. Something she knew she could excel at but would also fill a need in the town.
“Building a business often requires money,” her mother said.
“I know.” Mary sighed and smoothed the top of Josie’s hair. “What did you two do today?”
“We made bunches of baskets. I found a little squirrel and almost caught it.” Josie beamed up at her and Mary grinned.
“Excuse me...” Lou’s deep drawl interrupted them.
She looked up and felt that odd catch in her stomach again. His hair had grown too long since the shooting. It gave him a wild, untamed look. The scruff on his jaw only lent to the dangerous edge he exuded and deepened the blue of his eyes.
“Yes?” She tried to swallow the dryness from her throat. Nerves prickled.
He didn’t look at her mother or Josie but focused his gaze upon her, increasing the flame of anxiety that flickered through her body. “Just wanted to verify you’ll give me my shave and trim after supper.”
No, she wanted to yell. Instead, she found herself stuck nodding a wordless yes.
Every ounce of her felt caught in that magnetic gaze of his.
Finally, he looked away, and she could breathe again.
“Josie, pack your things tonight. We leave at first light,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
“Tomorrow we’re taking you to your mother.” A strange catch in his voice tripped Mary’s attention.
Was that pain traveling across his face? The emotion passed too quickly and once again his features settled into a carefree smile.
“Oh.” Josie quieted beneath Mary’s hand, which still rested on her head.
He shouldn’t have broken the news to her like this. Mary frowned and guided Josie to rest her head against her leg. She stroked the little girl’s hair. “Don’t you want to see your mother?”
“I guess....” Her voice trailed off. “I just don’t want to see him.”
“We’re gonna take you straight to your mother. Only her. And I’m going to make sure you’re completely safe before I leave.” Lou’s eyes darted to Mary before he squatted in front of Josie. “Your mother missed you and thought you were visiting relatives.”
“She sent me away,” Josie said in a very small voice.
Something bitter and sharp pricked at Mary. She swallowed hard and tucked a hair behind Josie’s ear. She felt her mother’s gaze.
“I know, sweetheart.” Empathy filled Lou’s tone. “But she didn’t want you to be gone forever, just to visit family. And now that we’ve found her and I’m better, Miss Mary and I are going to take you home so your mommy won’t be sad anymore.”
Josie turned her face into Mary’s skirt and mumbled something.
“Sometimes a mother makes a very big mistake,” Rose said quietly. “It takes a wise little girl to forgive and offer a second chance.”
“I’m not gonna go.” Josie pulled away, and Mary caught a glimpse of the stubborn glare she aimed toward Lou.
“Mary, please make sure she’s packed for tomorrow,” he said in a soft voice. He gave Josie a tender smile before looking to Mary. “I’ll be ready after supper.” He turned on his heel and strode away.
* * *
True to her word, Mary showed up after the dishes were done and Rose had taken Josie back to the house for sleep. He watched from the sitting room window as she came up the porch and paused before the front door. She adjusted her skirt and appeared to take a deep breath. Her face looked flushed and her eyes glimmered.
Was she nervous?
Her body language said so.
He stepped away from the window, rubbing the back of his neck. If there was another way to save her this discomfort, he would. Unfortunately, James was busy checking their route for tomorrow and making sure everything was in order while they were gone. He didn’t have time to be a barber, too.
The idea of making Mary uncomfortable bothered him deeply, but after spending these weeks here, he realized he’d done wrong in keeping her so isolated. Seeing her with Josie, it had become obvious she loved children. Maybe even wanted a family of her own. Sometimes he worried he’d stolen that from her by keeping her so comfortable at the ranch that she rarely left.
Yes, she’d needed time to heal from her kidnapping, but that didn’t seem reason enough now for her isolation. A deep compulsion drove him to do something more, make sure she was okay before he left Harney County for good. But what could he do?
The front door creaked and then there was the click of it closing. Mary appeared in the doorway, her hair neat and shining, her face devoid of emotion. He gestured to the chair near the window where he’d set the supplies. “Have you ever done this?”
“A long time ago.”
Her voice wobbled, betraying what her face hid.
A fierce surge of protectiveness shot through him. And uncertainty, because something about him was making her nervous lately. Was she feeling what he was? That could be dangerous for both of them.
The thought soured his positive feelings and turned his voice curt. “Just don’t cut me, then. Try to make things even in the back.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He settled into the chair. At least he wouldn’t have to see her face, look into her eyes. The deep calm of them had always pulled at him, drawn him in a way he’d hated. But as her fingers combed through his hair, wetting and straightening, he realized that being in this vulnerable position was infinitely worse. Silently groaning, he forced himself to ignore the warm strength of her fingers against his nape.
She worked in silence for several long, torturous minutes. The sound of the scissors snipping took the place of any words they might’ve shared.
“Have you packed?” he asked at last. Staying quiet seemed worthless when there was something to be said.
“Not yet.” Her voice, a lyrical blend of sound, floated over him.
“You should do that. Make sure Josie is ready, too.”
“I will.” Now she sounded defensive. “She needs time to adjust. We should have given her that.”
“She had to know she would go home eventually,” he pointed out, despite the guilt twisting his gut.
His head tugged back a little more roughly than normal.
“For some reason, she doesn’t want to return home. Don’t you find that suspicious?”
“Yep.”
“And yet you’ll still send her?”
“I told you that I’ll be arranging for her protection, but can we talk about this when you’re not armed with scissors?” He tilted his head to meet her rather serious gaze. When he winked at her, the color in her face deepened. Yep, definitely not immune to him.
Despite the inconvenience of this unfortunate attraction, he settled back in the chair again with a satisfied feeling. He could handle things. Get Josie out of danger. Find the shooter. Settle James and Mary
before he moved on.
Based on that telegram he’d picked up in town, he had a couple of options.
The clink of the knife against the washbowl drew him out of his thoughts. Mary, armed with a towel and shaving cream, hovered in front of him.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded and closed his eyes as she dabbed the cool cream across his skin. Then there was the rasp of the razor against his throat. She moved quietly and smoothly, making no conversation. Her scent hovered just beneath the scent of his shaving cream.
As she worked, the unease in his gut spread. Ever since that day he’d seen her in the valley with Josie... This wasn’t good. Attractions were best left alone. Then again, sometimes all it took was a kiss to know the woman he’d been mooning over wasn’t for him. There’d been a couple like that, women he’d thought might ease his loneliness, maybe help him forget Sarah and Abby.
They never did.
And Mary, well, he didn’t even know if she’d ever been kissed. He cracked a lid. Her eyes were focused somewhere around his chin and her brows narrowed in concentration. His mouth twitched. Her attention shifted to him.
Her gaze lingered a little too long before darting away. He shut his eyes but couldn’t temper the emotions ricocheting through him, nor the knowledge of what he’d just seen.
Mary felt drawn to him.
Something deeper and more elemental than mere attraction rushed through him. The emotion settled in his chest, patient and alert, waiting for expression.
He forced steady breaths and held perfectly still while Mary continued the shave. His biceps bunched when her skirt brushed against him. Mouth dry, he waited.
For what, he wasn’t sure, but suddenly things changed. Moved to a different place. He opened his eyes again. Mary looked at him, soft lips pursed. What would it be like to kiss her? She, who seemed so unreachable?
“Can you turn your head just so?” Her palm cupped his chin.
He reached up and encircled her arm, resting his fingers against the warmth of her inner wrist. Her eyes widened. She began to pull away, but he stood and slid his hand down to hers, lacing his fingers within hers. With his other hand he reached for the towel and roughly brushed it against his lips.
He tossed it to the ground.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Her stammer did nothing to ease the pulse hammering through him. No, those wide eyes only beckoned him closer. To know exactly what he was dealing with.
“Are you afraid of me?” he rasped.
Her eyes held his, so deep, so full of mystery. “No,” she whispered.
His chest tightened and he reached for her, pulling her close to him, drawing her lips to his, searching yet careful, probing yet holding back.
Until he felt her resistance crumble.
When she responded, that band inside his chest snapped and he became voracious, longing, wishing for something that seemed so far beyond his reach. Home. The scent of flowers and sage swirled around him in a heady, pulsating rush.
He was the first to pull away. He forced himself to separate from her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes burned dark and fathomless.
That kiss had been exquisite. Incredible.
The absolute biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter Thirteen
Mary couldn’t stop trembling.
Lou had pulled away and was busy toweling dry the rest of his face and neck. “How much is left to shave?” he asked.
“I completed the task.” Her lips burned, but she didn’t dare touch them in front of him. Would he see how she shook, how unsettled she felt? She stepped back and bumped against the window.
“Mary... I shouldn’t have done that.” He faced her and the look of chagrin on his features nearly crumpled her. Was it so bad to have kissed her, then? “We have too much going on to dabble in romantic affections. Why, this place could be sold in a week, and then we’ll probably never see each other again.” He kept talking, his words swirling through her mind with an odd energy. Each time his lips moved she felt something inside her grow more brittle and finally, when she could stand no more of his pointless ramblings, she stepped away from the window and fixed him a very pointed look.
“You kissed me,” she said briskly, thankful her voice did not betray her shakiness. “Do not pull a ’we’ into this.”
“But you liked it.”
At that, her cheeks caught fire. A boldness in his bright blue eyes made her think he wasn’t as chagrined as she’d previously thought. “My feelings on the subject are not important.”
“Oh, but they are. Tell me, Mary, did you like it?”
She wanted to be anywhere but here. If only she could escape, but with her back to the window, there was nowhere to go besides past Lou, and with that curious look on his face, there was no telling what he might do. She squirmed beneath his scrutiny.
“It was...” She paused and then settled on a word. “Enlightening.”
His arms crossed his chest as he grinned. “How so?”
“Like s-stumbling on the right recipe for piecrust,” she stuttered. The conceited man was still smirking, broad enough to give her a hankering to toss an egg at his face. She wanted to tell him so, but restraint held her lips closed. Instead, she settled for a dark scowl.
He busted into a loud laugh, the kind she hadn’t heard from him in too long.
“I’m glad, Mary, real glad you liked it. It worried me a bit that you might be scared and all.” Despite the smile, his gaze searched her.
Affronted, she felt her scowl deepening. “I am no longer the young woman brought to you on the threshold of collapse.”
“Very true.” His gaze dropped to her lips.
She felt that look to the marrow of her bones. Swallowing hard, she fixed her gaze on him. “As a matter of fact, I am looking into opportunities at this very moment. There are several available stores in Burns and I believe I can rent one and run a business.”
“What kind of venture are you thinking of?” Lou tossed his towel to the chair. It slipped to the floor.
She bent to pick up at the towel the same time he did.
“I reckon she could do just ’bout anything” came a voice from the doorway.
Hurriedly, Lou straightened, the towel in his hand, and as he did, a folded paper fluttered to the floor. Perhaps from his shirt pocket? She plucked the note off the floor while Lou and James spoke of the trip tomorrow.
The paper between her fingers looked suspiciously official. Could there be more news on who’d shot Lou? Perhaps the perpetrator had been caught. Should she open it? Nibbling her lower lip, she peeked at the men.
They spoke in hushed voices, bodies facing away from her. She turned her back to them and pretended to organize the shaving utensils while an internal war ensued. Unlike Gracie, she didn’t go around eavesdropping or telling people what she thought.
She was careful. Considerate... Her nose wrinkled. Boring.
Yes, Gracie was fun and alive and she, Mary, led a very careful, very structured life, with no room for surprises. Not until she’d brought Josie home.
The letter mocked her, its flap open just enough for her to see the typewritten note inside. Biting her lower lip, she cast the men one more look before positioning her body at an angle best designed to hide her sneakiness.
Her heart knocked about wildly in her chest. Quickly she unfolded the paper and scanned its contents. As she did, her pulse ratcheted until she could no longer quite contain her breathing.
How dare he? Throat tight and pained, she very neatly folded the paper, creasing the lines just so. Her fingers shook as she pressed on the paper.
“That right, Mary?”
Startled, she sucked in a lungful and pivoted, the letter clutched in her right hand, which she dropped to her side. “I missed what you said.”
“James says you should start a restaurant. I agree. Your baking is superb,” said Lou. The rat. The coward.
Betrayer.
All those names, and more, hopscotched through her mind and stuck there. A pounding took up residence in her skull, along with the words of the letter. He’d known. This entire time, he’d known and not said one word. Speechless, she could only stand there as her skin set aflame with anger.
“Well, now—” James scratched his head “—I do believe she’s angry.”
“About what?” Lou scoffed.
“Iffn’ I knew, I’d say so, but women get me all gandered up. I can’t tell left from right.”
Lou’s cheeks bunched. “Nah, Mary only gets angry once a year.”
Her eyes stung.
“Hoooeeee, I’m hightailin’ it out of here.” James gave her a once-over, then his mustache twitched. “Just came by to say things are all set for you leaving tomorrow. I’ll take you to the train in the morning and the bureau is getting you some hotel rooms for one night only. Time enough to find Josie’s mom and then skedaddle.” He edged backward.
Mary fought tears, refusing to show her weakness. James disappeared from the doorway and Lou turned to her, forehead crinkled in a charmingly deceptive way.
“What’s going on? A delayed reaction to the kiss?” He swiped the towel from where it hung around his neck and tossed it to the chair. “It’s better to talk now than to hold things inside.”
The letter lay in her palm. She could throw it at him in some infantile display of temper. Demand he answer her. But she held back.
“Are you going to give me the silent treatment like you did the first year you were here? I tolerated it then, and even a few years ago when you got mad about your mama, but I certainly won’t take it now.” He advanced, dangerous intent sizzling in his expression.
Before he could completely crowd her against the wall, she squared her shoulders, summoned self-will and shoved the paper between them. He stopped. Glanced at it, then to her, his face shuttered.
Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range Page 34
