The Bounty Hunter's Heart

by Jillian Hart

  "Do you like the exquisite potato chowder, Winn?" Nola asked over her shoulder, highly amused.

  "Right now, it's my favorite, Miss, the best soup I've ever had."

  "Most folks say so."

  "Then I'm glad to know I'm in good company." He hesitated at the edge of the light, in the shadows between the rooms. "Do you need me to head out and stable your horse? I'd be happy to do it for you."

  He waited, polite and respectful, like any well brought up man.

  "No, thank you, my horse is fine, but what a gem you are. I sure hope my cousin here keeps you and doesn't throw you back in the pond."

  "Guess we'll have to see how that goes. She might have better judgement in men than in my sort. No one could blame her for that."

  "And you're charming, too." Nola clasped her hands together, glowing as if beyond pleased with him, and her gaze landed squarely on the bed, neatly made, tucked in the corner of the area between the eating nook and the polished oak buffet cabinet. Very hard not to notice that.

  Just as it was tough not to notice Winn, who managed a shy grin as if embarrassed by the attention and moseyed into the parlor straight and strong, his rock-hard shoulders set, his broad back straight and his firm backside caught her eye.

  Don't notice! She scolded herself, but it was too late. She'd noticed! Now what did she do? Why did this man with the rumbling, honeyed voice, brawny manliness and gentle manners rivet her so hard? It took all her might to rip her gaze off him and pin them on the woman seated kitty-corner to her at the table, watching with absolute amusement, as if this were the best thing she had seen in ages. As long as Nola didn't know about the hot flickers of attraction snapping through her veins, that was what mattered.

  She could not explain the physically charged magnetic pull she felt from him as he crossed the parlor but it thrummed through her body in heated, spiraling waves. That could not be a good thing! How did she stop it? How did she get rid of it? What was going on with her that she had no self control? In all this time since Carson had passed on, not one man had tempted her to so much as look and wish, not one. And never to feel an intensely personal sexual awareness. Why did it have to be to a man who was destined to leave?

  "I can't believe you kept this to yourself," Nola whispered. "Not that I blame you. He's without question the most handsome man I've laid eyes on. I would have to be dead not to notice that."

  "He is rather handsome," Saydee couldn't help admitting shyly.

  "Rather handsome? That isn't even close to the truth. He is heart-stopping. There is just something about him, something that radiates from him that makes it so. It's hard to put a thumb on it, but if I had a man like that interested in me I would grab on and not let go."

  "Nola!" Saydee blushed, hard and fast. "I can't even think that way."

  "What do you mean? Why be bashful? He's obviously sleeping here. Maybe not with you, yet, but he's right here just down the hall from your bedroom. And judging by the way he looks at you, he's a hungry, lonesome man."

  "And kind. So very decent."

  "I don't doubt it, but this could get you fired from your job if this gets discovered by anyone else."

  "I know. The morality clause."

  "You have my word that your secret is safe with me, but you've got the most handsome man in at least four territories right here courting you." Nola's eyebrows went up and her forehead furrowed with concern. "Some might be jealous enough over that and would expose your secret and shame you in a second."

  "That isn't something I want to happen. He won't be here long." A movement caught her attention and Winn McMurphy filled the archway between the rooms, all man and heart, and the way that he looked at her made her feel alive.

  Alive. For the first time in forever. Or at least that's the way it felt, like dawn come after a decade of night.

  "Don't mind me, you two lovely ladies." He slid into the kitchen, keeping on the far side of the counter where shadows hid his eyes and his expression from her sight. His presence filled the room, changing it, changing her. He gave her a wink across the counter and she surprised herself by winking back.

  Oh, he thought he had all the power, did he, charming her like that, acting so handsome and dashing and kind? Making her think he was wonderful and had life figured out. A man tended to, she supposed, which was why she was normally a little smarter when it came to interacting with them. She'd sworn off being susceptible to their charming ways, that way it took a lot of sincerity to impress her. Maybe that had happened without her knowledge, she thought, because she had to remind herself to pull her heart back. It was her habit not to get overly charmed. With Winn, she would have to work harder on that.

  But not the soft sympathy for him that came as unexpected as a winter's quiet snow, no, she could allow her feelings of sorrow to grow for this bounty hunter unable to come in from the cold, a man sentenced to a hard judgement by insane criminals, a father who didn't want to leave the son he deeply loved. Yes, it was impossible not to fall ever more for the man for that. Poor Winn.

  "Ooh, now you are going to tell me the whole thing, the real story." Nola lowered her voice the instant he had taken the third soup bowl into the parlor with him. "Who exactly is he? What's he doing here? Is he courting you?"

  Saydee took another spoonful of chowder while it was still steaming hot, hardly able to savor the rich, wonderful flavor because her every sense was attuned on the man in the next room, who settled down on the edge of the mattress and spoke to his son in an indistinguishable rumble that made her heart long to hear more.

  "It's not my story to tell." With a grin and a twinkle in her eyes, she couldn't resist teasing her wonderful cousin and dipped her spoon daintily back into her bowl.

  "What? If you won't tell it, who will?" Nola's eyebrows shot upward, full of determination, amusement that the conversation was not going her way. After all, didn't a woman deserve to know all the important details? Nola pilfered a steamy hot roll from the platter and stole Saydee's butter knife. "That's okay, I will just fill in the details myself, even if I have to make them up."

  "What do you mean, make them up? The truth is the truth." Saydee waggled her eyebrows.

  Nola gave a little chuckle. "I don't mind inventing details I think are true, as long as I pass them on to my mother as likely true and what I suspect happened. He needed shelter from the storm and he stopped to pay for lodging, that's the only explanation for it. Anything else, you simply wouldn't do. Do you think there's any chance that he could turn into a suitor? There's no ring on his left hand, and he has that widower look to him, you know, as if he has no softness in his life, the way a woman's gentleness does for her husband."

  "I haven't found it my business to ask about his intentions, but, yes, he is a widower." Saydee took another sip of her chowder. "And he's been a good father. Look at how close Pete keeps to his son. He's raising a good-hearted little boy."

  "Doesn't that say everything? Well, if he's a fellow traveler, you can get his mailing address and write him. You can hope that he stays longer than he has to, although the town's little inn might be best. I want you happy and you living a full and fulfilled life, not one chock-full of lonely. I know how that feels." Nola's understanding was as gentle as the caring sparkling in her eyes.

  "I would love that for you, my dear cousin." That seemed to be the best way to let Nola know that this, with Winn, was not meant to be. She didn't know how to change it, Winn's circumstances in life were too dire. "It is good of you to want so much for me. A life like that, with a good man's love, would be impossible. Look at me, past my prime and I'm a mess. We both know it."

  Her gentle joke made Nola laugh. "If you are a mess, than I am a disaster, cousin." She broke off a bite of buttered roll and popped it into her mouth. "Go ahead and admit the truth. All this affection and fussing and interference in your life that you get from Ma and me and sometimes my father, he can be such a meddler! It is too much for you, isn't it? You're used to distance from your parents
and you're not used to being close and tight knit. Well, maybe I intend to change that."

  "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

  Nola rolled her eyes. "Of course I do! Oh, you will eventually get used to being fussed over and your life meddled with. I'm thrilled to be the one to do it."

  "I'm thrilled and I never want it to stop. Thank you." Saydee blinked to keep her eyes from tearing up. "Do you want me to get you a plate? I can get you more to eat, if you want?"

  "No, I've had my supper, but these rolls are so good I can't resist them. I'll just take one more, but no need to dirty a plate. I'll just spill crumbs on the table." Nola grabbed another dinner roll. "Of course, I'll wipe them up, but if I get a plate then I have to acknowledge that I'm eating, and I've vowed to cut back on bread. I'm getting a little girth-y."

  "Girth-y?"

  "That seemed like a polite way to say wide. It doesn't seem as dire, does it? I'm going to need to make new clothes if I'm not careful this upcoming holiday season." Nola rolled her eyes, perfectly proportioned and gorgeous. "Do you remember the serious damage I did to my waistline last year? Ma and Aunt Lara started baking about this time of year and didn't stop until New Year's Day. I was in serious danger by New Year's dinner, so I'm cutting back on food in preparation this year, and I'm hungry."

  "Which explains the rolls." Saydee took her time refilling her spoon. "I didn't notice you looking anything other than gorgeous last holiday season, but I do know how you feel. All the plates of cakes, cookies and assorted pies, well, I just was overwhelmed last year. And it's already started up again, has it, Aunt Peg's seasonal baking?"

  "We're both in jeopardy. I mean, now that you have a possible suitor to look beautiful and svelte for." Nola waggled her eyebrows again.

  If only, Saydee thought with regret, the smile on her lips dying. The truth felt heavy on her heart, but she couldn't say more. The truth was McMurphy's to tell, not hers.

  Peg reached for the butter knife. "Now, don't get me wrong, that is one charming, and may I say virile, man, but do you know how long you are going to keep him here?"

  "He hasn't said. His son fell ill and so he may need to stay and recover fully before he moves on."

  "Then luck is with you." Peg's eyes twinkled with first realization and then mischief and turned her attention to buttering her roll and taking a delicious bite. Saydee's gaze drifted past her cousin and deeper into the house, following the glow of lamplight and hearth light to the small boy who'd scooted up in bed, propped in a half-sitting-up angle holding his soup bowl.

  Such a small boy, especially tucked up next to the man seated beside him, eating his own bowl of chowder. Father and son, side by side. Jack's dark hair was tousled from sleep and his round, button face was pale, but beginning to show a little flush of rosy color, and he looked happy but worried, next to his pa. There was no mistaking the family resemblance in his eyes as hopeless as Winn's.

  Saydee's heart twisted. The man's dark somber eyes lifted upward and fastened on hers. The impact was so intimate, her heart twisted and it hurt to breathe, so she didn't.

  I want to leave Jack with you. McMurphy's words played again in her memory. Sorrow rocked through her for the man forced to leave his son behind, and it nearly broke her heart. She wished she could change it, but she was helpless to.

  17

  Snowflakes feathered across the side of his face and tickled down his neck to melt against his coat collar, cold against his too-warm skin. Low silver clouds hid the rugged mountain peaks from his sight, mantling the sky, looking like a long snow was upon them.

  His stomach cinched hard with an upset he couldn't explain, only feel. He was wasting time standing around, hesitating when he ought to be on the road heading out and doing it when his tracks would be lost in the storm. He was free to go now that Saydee would take good care of his son. Of that he had no doubt.

  He scented the wind blowing in from the north, feeling like ice and smelling like winter was setting in and would never leave. He couldn't sense trouble out there, but he had his revolvers and enough clothes to carry in a pack to get him through, even if the wind was kicking up and might stay there. There was a mean note to those gusts and that was a point of caution. If he took off for the backcountry, what were the risks of getting trapped by another blizzard? Could he lead them away, even if he risked being gunned down by the men hunting him, the man ruthless enough to take him out from behind without warning, just a gunshot and it was all over, he was dying and gone?

  Not the outcome I want, he thought, gritting his teeth, jaw clenched hard. But one I don't know if I can stop. At least Jack wouldn't be part of it. He'd be safe. Winn breathed in the sharp wintry smell of winter and mountain air as the snow tapped down over him, hitting his hat and coat and clinging to him, and the scent reminded him of the holiday season to come. Of a time when happiness was supposed to have lived in his heart and hope had filled his days, but never again, he was destined to leave. Never to return, and it would cost him his life beyond all doubt. He'd run out of hope.

  Lemony lamplight glinted on the paned, glass windows. The house looked snug, mantled with snow and tucked into a little grove of trees. He could look right past the edge of the ruffled curtains and into the parlor where Jack sat up, with his dear face focused toward the doorway as if waiting for him, unable to go back to sleep unless he came back inside. The dog waited with him, curled up and snoozing at his side. Jack's face softened as he turned his attention to his companion. The boy reached out one hand and gently petted the sleeping dog's head, but not enough to wake him.

  His heart melted at the small child in the too-big flannel shirt, his dark hair tousled and nearly standing up on end in the back, in need of a good combing back into place. Jack rubbed at his right eye with one little fist, as if holding back a world of sorrow, tears he refused to show, if he could manage it.

  What a good, tough little gentleman. Winn's heart broke, hating what he had to do and grateful beyond words that he'd asked Edwin about his family, when they'd met at a horse auction less than a year ago, and spent time catching up over roast beef sandwiches at the diner and ale. A conversation he'd remembered when he'd needed help for Jack because Edwin was an obvious contact. Saydee was not and she was now the only reason he could leave. The only woman he could trust to raise his boy right.

  Now he had an even bigger problem. When it was time, how was he going to be able to force his feet to actually take him away from his boy? He couldn't battle down the overwhelming yearning in his soul to stay as long as he could to take care of his son, and a lifetime would not be good enough. Certainly not by a long shot. His throat closed up, making him gasp at the sight of Saydee swishing into sight and sweeping through the parlor. Golden curls cascaded down over her shoulders and veiled his view of her face, and her soft wispy curls looked like liquid gold when the lamplight touched them, and that soft bounce of curl and burnished silk made desire rekindle in his groin and he was hard as a rock before his heart could beat next.

  Saydee held out the dessert plate she carried, where a wedge of angel food cake looked like a little piece of heaven. But instead of looking at Jack, she stiffened as if she'd felt him watching and turned her head toward the window. Busted! Caught red handed. Their gazes collided through the frosty glass and snow fall, and he froze so hard his heart forgot to beat, but then she smiled as if everything was fine, and that she would never say no to his request.

  He gave thanks for the black of night on this late evening that hid most of his naked response to her, and he took a step back so she would not see the gratitude as powerful as a cyclone gather in his gaze and he waited until she turned back to Jack and the lamplight flickered, glinting like diamond dreams on the frozen windowpane.

  He rechecked the horse's tether to the garden gate post by the back door. He stomped snow from his boots on the back porch, standing in the faint fall of light from the covered window while he gathered up his unsettled feelings and tucked them away, let the cold c
ool his blood and convince himself he didn't desire her, which could never possibly be true.

  He swung the door open and stepped into the warmth and light, into the coziness of Saydee's home. When he entered the kitchen, both ladies turned to study him. They had thin slices of angel food cake on rosebud china plates, dainty teacups steamed alongside the small dessert plates, and he could see the life Saydee had here and the pleasant way she passed her time. The scent of the brewed tea and the sweet cake lifted with the stove's heat and made his mouth water. He hung up his hat and shrugged out of his coat. "You ladies look comfortable. Don't get up or offer me a piece of that cake."

  "Are you sure?" Saydee's gaze turned warm, full of admiration, which was something he hadn't had to contend with in a woman for a long time. It utterly disarmed him. "My aunt is quite a baker, and this is one of the best cakes I've had yet. You will get a piece, and I've got a pot of coffee boiled up for you sitting on the trivet. Don't tell me, I know that it's cold out there, and a man likes coffee, not tea."

  "I won't argue with that." He took a step, surprised by the weak feeling in his knees because of Saydee's smile, her eyes steady on his. He was smart enough to know this could go nowhere, so he broke away looking hard at the floor in front of him as he gave the kitchen table a wide berth on his way into the kitchen. It was hard not to be enchanted by the cozy feeling of her home, he thought, well lit with plenty of lamps and full of her cheerfulness, the reassuring scent of fragrant food and the crackling fire driving the icy chill from his bones.

  "I want to thank you for fetching my horse, Mr. McMurphy." Cousin Nola set her empty plate on the counter near the wash basin. "Saydee, I'm going to head home before my father sends out a search party. I only meant to drop by, and here I stayed way too long! Well, what else is new? I wonder if I'll make it home before this snow gets any worse?"

  "Goodness, I hope so, is that the wind kicking up?" Saydee grabbed her cousin's cloak and helped her into it. "The time did fly, and I want you home in case that gets much worse. Remember that time Uncle Stan showed up on my door step fearing you'd become lost in the snow?"