The Bounty Hunter's Heart

by Jillian Hart

  "Making me breakfast isn't enough? I can see you've brought in more wood, swept the floor and have the coffee ready. Thank you." It was impossible to keep the warmth from her voice. She came to a stop at the cupboard, and the memory of last night's encounter between them remained. Every inch of her body tingled with the desire to be pressed up against him, held tight. She reached down two cups. "I hope you and Jack had a pretty good night."

  "He slept like a log and still was, when I checked a few minutes ago."

  Her breath caught as he ambled over to her, and the fire banked inside her rekindled, recalling last night, unable to forget his touch. Before she could speak, Winn's hand captured hers and although it was but for a brief moment, she could feel the warmth of his heart and the flame of his touch held real desire, too. When he withdrew his touch, he stepped back. "Don't start taking over. I'll pour, why don't you sit down and let me cook for you?"

  Her hand trembled as she held one cup and Winn moved in to reach past her for the coffee pot. He poured for her, filling her cup before turning away to fill the one on the counter. That done, he reached up for the frying pan and moved away to the stove, and even having him take those few steps away from her felt as if he took all the warmth with him. She shivered, as if feeling bereft, watching him grease the pan.

  "You're more than an expert in this than I thought," she said as she stirred in sugar.

  "I wouldn't say expert but necessity has demanded it, so I learned what I could from the housekeeper I hired to look after Jack."

  "So you could cook for him on the day you weren't working?"

  "Yes, and then I didn't have to rush into finding a wife when I wasn't ready to. I figured I might never be. I didn't know how my life would work out."

  "No one can see into the future." She spoke over the bacon sizzling and stirred sugar into his cup, remembering how many heaping spoonful he liked. "But when I watch you, I have to admit that you're awfully good in a kitchen."

  "You think so?"

  "Yes, and I'm impressed." She watched him turn the bacon, and the sizzling grease popped and snapped in the beat of silence between them.

  23

  She took a sip of coffee and let the sweet flavorful warmth slip across her tongue. What a pleasure it was to stand beside him in her kitchen, starting the day off feeling right.

  "What are you going to tell your relatives here in town about having Jack under foot?" He reached for another pan and buttered it, his head tilted to one side as he worked, unmistakable masculine capability and quiet charm. "I have to know what you want to do, because there's a good chance I won't come back. I might not be able to."

  "I would rather wait and see if my family and the local sheriff can't help you."

  "I'd like that, too, believe me." He set the pan on the stove and grabbed the mixing bowl. He ladled in batter for four pancakes and reached for the spatula. "I really adore you, Saydee, I care, it's impossible not to, and I'd like to see where this could go, but I have a different path I've got to take."

  "How do I change that? How do I help?"

  "You can't, but taking Jack helps, and there's no one else to trust with him, but there's also no one better."

  "He'll be well treated here. I might tend to spoil him a bit."

  "I can see that, and lucky for Jack." He sounded sad as he cracked an egg on the side of the skillet and added it to the bacon pan. "What are you going to tell Nola?"

  "That an acquaintance from my childhood happened to look me up needing help, and I agreed to take in Jack. We both know what orphanages are like, even good ones, there's never enough money to go around and well-meaning adequate care doesn't begin to soothe the sadness of a grieving child. So Jack stays with me."

  "Stays?"

  "Until you come back and forever how long that takes. I'm going to be optimistic for Jack's sake and, most especially, yours." She'd been too honest, opened her heart too much to him, and panic whipped through her. Maybe it was best to put a little space between them, so she stepped out of his way, giving her a view across the table into the dark parlor. "At least we haven't woken up Jack. He seems almost as good as new."

  "True. No cough, no fever, and my guess is that today he won't want to stay resting or sitting down quiet. That will be another good sign." He checked the pancakes and flipped them. "The blizzard has blown down into just a storm, you know. It's Saturday, so I know you won't be leaving for work, but will you be going anywhere else?"

  "I'm not sure yet."

  "Good, then stay for breakfast, I have work to do." He stopped to slip the plate of bacon into the oven's warmer, his mouth a controlled line and his back powerfully straight.

  "Do you mean kitchen work?" She couldn't help tenderly teasing.

  "Without a doubt." He flashed her a full smile, revealing true dimples bracketing his upturned mouth. Well she remembered being kissed by those lips, and desire tripped through her. He slipped a plate of stacked pancakes into the warmer and reached for the mixing bowl. "Sit down, enjoy your coffee. You have a long work day ahead of you."

  "I do." It was a treasured feeling, to feel how much he cared about her, lonely and quiet her, and her heart swelled with feeling. She tugged out her chair and slipped into it, resting as she cupped her mug and enjoyed another sip. The sounds of him in the kitchen quietly clinking and clanging added a festive cheer to the house. But apparently, it hadn't been in obtrusive enough. She saw a shadow move through the dark parlor and a child shuffled into the reach of the light.

  "It's okay, you can come too, Pete," a boy said in a whisper over his shoulder.

  Saydee watched over the rim of her cup as Pete stretched, only a shadow, and slowly ambled sleepily after Jack. The dog took a few steps and stopped to give an adorable yowl of a yawn in the center of the carpet.

  "You want me to come back over and pet your ears, Pete?" Jack trudged back around, his little boy gait sleepy as he paused beside the dog and brushed his small hand along the dog's ears.

  Pete gave a single whine of appreciation.

  Jack was a good boy, and as he walked side by side with Pete into the reach of the light, her heart glowed so glad he had a better, more healthy color to his button face and his dark eyes gleamed. His sweet smile was framed by dimples just like his father's, and he looked small and dear in yellow-striped flannel shirt he'd pulled on over his winter long johns. His dark hair was sleep tousled and the cowlick at the back of his head stood up straight.

  What a nice boy, and he's going to be mine to look after. Her heart filled up warmly, softened by that thought. Maybe there was a way everything did not have to be so dire for Winn and his son. It did no harm to hope.

  Jack looked up and his sweet smile faded a notch, making his dimple disappear. He must be aware, too, that his father could leave in this snow never to return. How did she begin to try and ease the hardship of that pain for him? She had no notion, but she thought it spoke well of Winn that his boy adored him so highly, beyond words. It was powerful enough to change the feel of the air in the room. And in their hearts.

  Pete lumbered over to her to offer his nose for a pat, looking plenty satisfied that he'd gotten to sleep on the bed next to the boy and seemed to have picked up a child of his own. How lucky was that? "Very," Sadie whispered to her dog. "Very lucky for you, good boy."

  Pete wagged his tail and leaned into her hand. His fur was soft and warm and wonderful, and she was glad at least one of them was happy. But what could she do for the boy? She watched him smile and nod politely to her, a silent morning greeting, before ambling on to circle the end of the counter. Uncertainty and fear dimmed the sparkle from those eyes until he disappeared behind the counter and the sound of his feet padded toward his father.

  "Hey, there, Jack, good morning, my boy." Winn flipped the last pancakes onto the stack and set down the spatula. Both arms went around the boy who'd wrapped his arms around his middle. Saydee looked away, not wanting to intrude on this private moment between father and son, but rathe
r wanted them to concentrate on each other in this rare time they had left. Winn had not taken her up on her wish to stay.

  Pete licked her hand before easing away, his chocolate-brown eyes worried over the boy. His nails clicked as he dared to enter the deeper part of the kitchen, standing politely wagging his tail near to his bowl of food tucked up next to the cabinet and the wall, taking it all in as if he knew about their sadness, too.

  Saydee jumped, nearly spilling her coffee, when Winn tapped into the room behind her. "That's a mighty fine dog, Saydee, watching over Jack like that."

  "I've always thought Pete was great. It's my humble opinion that he's the best dog in the whole world."

  "No doubt but that. I second that opinion, right there. And I'm glad and privileged to meet such a dog. Good boy, Pete, I knew you were quality when we first met."

  Saydee watched Winn pace closer, and the love in his voice, his step and in the way his eyes glimmered was unmistakable. Love? Her heart pounded, flip-flopping in her chest. He couldn't have those feelings for her, but wouldn't that have been a quality thing? To have such a man's love.

  He towered beside the table, two plates balanced in his large, powerful hands and slid both onto the table. The scents of freshly made pancakes, fried eggs and center-cut bacon steamed, scenting the air so perfectly that her mouth watered and her stomach growled.

  "This looks delicious. If it tastes as good as it smells, I owe you a first class supper tonight." She tried not to gaze up too adoringly at him. "Thank you, Winn."

  "You're welcome, and I'm going to make you keep that promise. You have no idea how much I want a real tasty meal before I head out." He took a step back to fetch his cup of coffee and Jack's glass of milk and paused by his son, towering over him, and reached down to smooth down his son's cowlick as wildly rebellious as his own, and the gesture held so much affection and paternal tenderness that it made him ten feet tall. Beyond all doubt, he dearly loved his precious son.

  Saydee's heart tumbled, falling in her chest, falling in love with him, with this man of tenderness and might she would never have the privilege to love.

  "Pa, do I get three pancakes?" Jack asked with a trembling whisper as squared his little shoulders, drawing himself up like the little gentleman he was.

  "Are your eyes bigger than you stomach, son?" The question furrowed his brow as he grabbed the cup and glass and retraced his tracks. "If not, then go ahead, get started on dishing up. Hurry. Don't let a lady sit there eating by herself. You know better than that."

  "Yes, sir!" Adorable, that was his boy, such a good man already. Too bad he might not be around to see how he turned out, all grown up. At least, he couldn't count on it, not with his luck. It was hard facing it, so he squared his shoulders, steeled his resolve and slid the cup and glass into place on the table. Jack's chair whispered on the area carpet as he settled into his seat.

  It was nice that he wasn't the only one watching Jack settle in at the table, grab his fork and stab three pancakes from the steaming stack set between his plate and Saydee's. The glint of light in the woman's eyes told him she already liked his son, smiling at the boy's cuteness as he spread out the pancakes on his plate just right and then grabbed the butter bowl and traded his fork for his knife. She was falling in love with his son, it was a certainty, he knew that look, it was as simple as that. Now I'm free, he thought, relieved, sad and thankful that he'd found her. He'd already trusted her to give his son what he couldn't.

  "You're gonna eat too, right, Pa?" Jack's clutched his knife, in the middle of spreading butter on his pancakes, with white-knuckled force.

  "You can count on that, my boy." He folded his frame into the comfortable chair, pushing away the knowledge that his time for leaving was ticking down. Soon, it would be time to go. "Pass those pancakes, please."

  "Yes, Pa." Jack's grin lit his eyes. "But first, did you get enough, Miss Saydee?"

  "Why, yes, I did, Jack. You have very fine manners, which you must have learned from your fine father."

  Air wedged sideways in his throat, but Winn managed not to choke or cough or otherwise draw attention to his plight.

  "That's my boy," he congratulated his son on his good behavior in front of a lady and took the plate of pancakes hungrily. He dumped the remaining stack on his plate, hardly aware of setting the empty plate down or reaching for the butter bowl. All he could see was her, mesmerizing with the liquid gold lamplight dappling her blond hair and radiant on her heart-shaped face. He might never forget the luxury of hauling her into his arms, pressing her close against him and feeling her hold him tight. His desire for her built, jumping in his groin, as he remembered the passion of her kiss and the weight and warmth of her breast settling against his palm.

  He blinked, bringing his thoughts back to the task at hand and accepted the plate being handed to him. He thanked Saydee, who flashed him a beautiful smile and turned away from him to accept the maple syrup from Jack. Whew, this got complicated fast. He emptied the rest of the platter onto his plate and forked a bite of fried egg. Hungry, he devoured his meal, thanked Saydee for the syrup, and started in on his strips of bacon.

  He had to force his thoughts to the work left to do ahead. He'd snuck outside when the blizzard eased into a lower level storm, still not safe, but safe enough to risk heading out and watching the surrounding forest for a sign, any sign, that predatory men hunting him had followed him somehow, perhaps searching house to house, despite the storm. He feel safe, usually his instincts were a good barometer, but he didn't want to ever risk being wrong by not making sure. Maybe he'd been bounty huntering too long, but he couldn't relent and he refused to relax. He had Jack and Saydee to protect.

  When he turned his fork to his stack of pancakes, he looked up to see his son watching him. The boy grinned, fork in hand happily eating his favorite kind of breakfast, and Saydee's quality maple syrup tasted like paradise, a real treat. The pleasure in the boy's eyes was worth a million bucks and a lump formed in his chest, right over his heart, worried for his boy. He might never know what happened to him in his life to come or be there to make sure ho hardship found Jack, at least no hardship that he could prevent.

  Who would be here to protect his boy, when he was gone? Saydee was strong of heart, but such a petite, soft woman, she couldn't begin to do it. Maybe the uncle she mentioned. Edwin had spoken well of him in brief. Well, it was a hope and a gamble he would have to make. He cut a bite with his fork and took a big bite of butter and perfect pancake. Good. Likely one of the last breakfasts he would ever enjoy. This was a dead end, a one way trip to face an adversary who shot first, struck like a snake, hunted like a wolf and had friends just like him.

  Yes, being alone to face men like that was the best choice. He would not put any other man's life in jeopardy, not when he had the guilt over his hometown sheriff's death on his hands.

  * * *

  "Papa, where are you going?" Jack set his plate on the counter next to the wash basin, his voice rising a note with his urgency. He dashed around the end of the counter and the table, slowing when he saw his father hesitate.

  "I'm just heading out to check on my horse and do a few things to get ready." He slipped one arm into his jacket and shrugged it on over his broad shoulders. "Don't worry. I'll be back indoors in a bit."

  "Oh."

  Winn's caring half smile met Saydee full force across the length of the counter, and she nearly dropped her bar of soap. "You're going out in that storm. I expected you might want to stay inside where it's warm, until the horses need to be watered and fed."

  "And don't forget the moose." He ruffled the top of Jack's head again, stopping to smooth down his impossible cowlick before buttoning up. "I'm still stiff from going out in the wee hours last night and searching for trouble and outlaws, and the walk took me farther than I guessed."

  "You're taking every precaution." Saydee's voice came out thin and wavery sounding.

  "I sure am, absolutely."

  "Good." She felt safe
, and he made her feel that way. His quiet confidence and capable manner made her believe in him. When his gaze fastened on hers and he smiled the same way he had last night, when he'd kissed her and held her tight, she lit up inside. She'd never felt like this before, as bright as a winter sun dawning. She didn't want to feel this way, but it felt right.

  "I'm about to do some baking. Any requests?"

  "I'm partial to cookies." A dimple flirted in his left cheek as he failed to hold off a grin. "It seems to me that you look like a woman who really knows what she's doing when it comes to baking. Your cooking has tasted divine, so I can't imagine how anything could be better than that, but I'd wager my year's pay that the next round you make is every bit as good as the cookies we finished."

  "I'd never agree to anything as outrageous as that statement. I'm fair to middling as a cook and I lack serious skills as a baker, according to the mother who raised me, but Nola swears that I'm pretty good. Even better than she is, and she's no slouch. You tasted my aunt Peg's angel food cake. You know heaven when you taste it."

  "Yes, I'm betting that talent runs in the family. But I'm more partial to yours."

  "Why would that be?"

  "Maybe because I'm partial to you."

  "Oh, well, I guess the feeling is mutual." Saydee bit her lip but couldn't keep her smile from widening. She felt brighter. With every breath she took, the glow in her chest increased tenfold. Look at him towering above her, every bit a flesh and blood Western hero.

  "I'll look forward to your cookies." His rum-rich baritone rumbled in the warmth between them. "I'm partial to sugar cookies. I won't be away for too long."

  "Good, because it's snowing hard out there."

  "No kidding." When he grinned, warmth coiled around her, a feeling of belonging that made her smile, too.

  The next thing Saydee knew, he opened the door. Icy cold filled the room as he marched out into the frigid air.