Susan Amarillas

by Scanlin's Law

  Luke raked both hands through his hair, then settled his hat on his head. “Okay. I give up. You win.”

  “Naturally,” Ruth said, amusement sparking in her eyes.

  “Well,” Luke added, “if I’ve got to lose, this was a rather pleasant way to do it. I’ll have to remember the benefits of having ladies play.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes that made Mrs. Wheeler chuckle and Rebecca blush.

  “Come on, Luke,” Andrew argued, “you can’t let ‘em win like that. She was out, and—”

  Luke swung Andrew up on his shoulders. “It’s okay, cowboy. A man’s got to be a good loser...sometimes. You’ve got to choose your fights, and then, when it’s really important...never give up.” He looked at Rebecca, the double meaning of his words obvious. Feeling awkward, she broke eye contact first.

  With a knowing smile, Luke started for the house, Andrew balanced on his shoulders.

  “Lemonade! Can we have lemonade?” Andrew called out to Mrs. Wheeler.

  “Coming right up,” the housekeeper agreed, and hurried to oblige.

  “Wait for me,” Ruth called after her. “You never put in enough sugar.”

  “Sure I do.”

  The two were still discussing how much sugar was enough as they disappeared inside.

  Rebecca stood in the center of the yard. The breeze off the bay gently rustled the hem of her skirt against her ankles. Lord, look at me, she thought with irritation. There were grass stains on the front of her muslin skirt, and there was dirt, brown dirt, on her elbows and front. She looked like she’d been in a brawl and come out the loser.

  That stray lock of hair bobbed in front of her face again, annoying her. She blew it back. It plopped down again with a vengeance.

  She should be angry. She should be really angry, she told herself as she made a futile effort to brush away those grass stains. Instead, she chuckled. Then she laughed. She was a mess, but she’d had a good time. It had been fun, she realized. For all the dirt and stains, she’d had a really good time. Running around the yard like a kid. What would the fine ladies of San Francisco society say if they had seen her? Probably have apoplexy. She chuckled again, and, still brushing at her sleeve, headed for the house.

  Shoving back that errant lock of hair back, she secured it with a comb. She spotted Luke near the porch, Andrew still balanced effortlessly on his broad shoulders.

  It was a sight that brought her up short. The two men in her life; one who was everything she cared about, the other who had the power to destroy it. There they were, chatting together, clearly unaware of the torment this scene caused her.

  They were engrossed in conversation, Andrew nodding solemnly at whatever Luke was saying. They were so natural together, so easy, as if they’d known each other forever. In a way, they had.

  She hurried in their direction, fear outweighing all other emotions. Luke gave her a mischievous grin that sent tiny sparks skittering across her skin.

  “Lemonade!” Mrs. Wheeler called from the porch with a wave. Luke plopped his hat on Andrew’s head and gave him an affectionate swat on his bottom. Giggling, Andrew took off at a run.

  “Come on, Luke,” the boy called over his shoulder, the hat down around his ears.

  Luke waved, but didn’t follow. He waited for Rebecca. She stopped directly in front of him. His expression was unreadable and, for a second, she tensed, worried about what he would say to her.

  The breeze ruffled his hair. He combed it back with his fingers. His eyes assessed her boldly. “It was a lonely night.”

  She had been prepared for any of a dozen different remarks. She had not been prepared for that simple statement. Nor was she prepared for the sudden tingling in the pit of her stomach.

  Unsteady, she tried to change the conversation. “That was nice.” She gestured with her head toward the playing area behind her. “I liked that.”

  “That’s two things I now know you enjoy.” His voice was soft, and disturbing to her already sensitive nerves. She felt a blush warm her, then travel up her neck. “Is the game a new one?”

  His smile was immediate, and rich as sun-warmed honey. “Ah, no, Princess, it’s as old as time.”

  Her stomach did that funny flip-flop again. “I was talking about baseball.” She glowered, refusing to respond to his seductive charm.

  “I wasn’t.” His words were blunt. His tone was lush.

  “Hey, you two,” Ruth called from the porch, blessedly breaking the spell he was weaving much too easily around her. “Lemonade’s ready. Come on. We’ve got ice melting in here.” With a wave, she went back inside.

  Luke took a measured half step in Rebecca’s direction. Towering over her, he said softly, “We’ve got ice melting out here, too.” He pretended to brush a lock of hair back from her cheek.

  She shivered in response, then stiffened, steeling herself against his sensual caress.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Don’t touch you? Don’t want you? Don’t care?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You have no choice.”

  “Neither do you.”

  She shook her head emphatically. “That’s where you’re wrong. There are always choices, and I—”

  “Rebecca, dearest,” a male voice called. Startled, they both looked up, to see Edward striding across the yard toward them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Instantly the mood changed.

  “What the hell?” Luke muttered.

  Rebecca, desperate for any interruption, skirted around Luke and greeted Edward warmly.

  Luke watched the two of them. They were both all smiles. It didn’t make a bit of sense. How the hell could she do that, greet him like that, after the way he’d wormed his way out of helping her? Now, if she’d asked him to shoot the man on the spot, that would have made sense.

  It’s none of your business, he warned himself.

  The hell it isn’t, he thought with a rush of possessiveness that made his hands curl into fists. He had to resist the urge to strike the man.

  “Rebecca.” Edward’s brows drew down as he appraised her appearance critically. “What on earth has happened?”

  “We were playing.”

  His gaze shot to Luke, then back to Rebecca. “Playing?” he repeated cautiously.

  Rebecca understood his meaning, and resentment flared. He had no right to question her. But Luke was watching them too intently and, feeling that Edward was the safer of the two, she forced a smile and said, “Baseball, Edward. We were playing baseball with Andrew and Ruth.”

  “Oh, I see,” he confirmed, in a way that said he didn’t see at all. And that rankled her even more.

  Edward straightened, adjusting the sleeves of his perfectly tailored blue suit.

  “Morning, Ed,” Luke said, with a nod but no trace of a smile. “A bit early for calling, isn’t it? I mean, Becky and I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

  Edward’s brows drew down. “Sir, I believe you have the advantage.” His tone was polite, and if he was surprised, he hid it well. The man was too smooth, too slick, and Luke took an instant dislike to him.

  “Name’s Scanlin,” Luke said, not bothering to offer his hand. “And yes—” he glanced over at Rebecca, then back to Edward “—I believe I do have the advantage.”

  Edward’s gaze turned razor-sharp. “Just what—”

  Rebecca stepped between them, her color high. Anger sparked in her eyes.

  “Edward...” she said warmly, her hand resting lightly on his sleeve. She offered her cheek for a kiss, then cut Luke a quick glance to make sure he noticed. He did.

  “Marshal, I believe you said you were leaving.”

  Luke didn’t move.

  There was an awkward silence before Edward said, “Ah, Marshal, Rebecca was telling me last night over dinner—” he let the implication sink in “—that you were instrumental in the return of Andrew.”

  “Yes, that’s correct. And I understand that you
were not.”

  Edward’s head came up with a snap. His eyes sharp with unconcealed anger, he took a half step in Luke’s direction. Luke held his ground.

  “Wait, you two.” Rebecca demanded. “I won’t have any trouble here.” She flashed them each an angry look. “Luke, maybe you’d better go.”

  She saw him stiffen, saw a muscle flex in his cheek, and she thought for a moment he would refuse. Thankfully, he didn’t.

  Without a word, he strode for the porch and disappeared inside.

  Rebecca let out the breath she’d been holding. Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she slipped her arm through Edward’s, and they strolled toward the big oak near the back fence. She didn’t think now was a good time to go into the house, because Luke might decide to linger awhile.

  “Rebecca, is that man still staying here? You told me he left yesterday.”

  “He did,” she answered, not liking this cross-examination. “He came back this morning.”

  “To stay?” His tone was sharp.

  “Of course not. I told you he was here to see Andrew. We were playing baseball.” She angled him a look. “I made a home run.”

  “Is that so?”

  The significance was plainly lost on Edward. Even so, a little feigned enthusiasm would have been appreciated.

  She sighed. “Why are you here, Edward?”

  “What? Oh, I’m sorry to call so early, but I wanted to come by before you made any plans. The governor is in town, and I was hoping you would come for luncheon. You know how much he likes you.”

  She stopped. “Edward, I can’t possibly. I mean, Andrew—”

  “Of course, we’ll take the boy, too, if you like, though I suspect it would be quite boring for him—political talk and all.”

  There was something in the way he always referred to Andrew as “the boy” that was unpleasant. She pushed the feeling aside.

  “Edward, surely you can understand that under the circumstances I can’t possibly go to luncheon today.”

  He looked genuinely puzzled. “Why, dearest? Andrew is home safe. Surely you can spare a few hours for something important to me.”

  Two days ago she’d begged him to help her save her son, and he’d failed her miserably. Now he was here asking her to put aside her plans and her feelings to do something as trivial as going to luncheon?

  Anger nuzzled the edges of her mind. She’d thought she’d gotten past this. They’d had dinner last night, and Edward had explained his situation, offered his apologies and pleaded for her forgiveness until finally she acquiesced.

  Yet now she was unable to restrain herself from making comparisons. Luke hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t pleaded rules and restrictions and fear of recriminations. He’d gone with her, stayed with her, put his life on the line, all for her.

  Suddenly Edward came up lacking. But they had been friends, good friends, for a long time. It was difficult not to at least try to be understanding.

  Again, Rebecca forced a smile she didn’t feel. “I would like to help, Edward. But I won’t leave Andrew. Not now.”

  “You aren’t worried something will happen, are you?” He touched her arm. “I’m absolutely certain there will be no more trouble.”

  “I’m not so certain. Marshal Scanlin has reminded me that there is another kidnapper at large. Besides, Andrew is still frightened. You must understand.”

  “But, dearest, Ruth is here, and the servants...”

  “I’m not leaving Andrew.”

  “But, Rebecca, to give up an opportunity to meet with the governor... His support could make all the difference to my campaign in the upcoming city election.”

  So that was it, Rebecca thought with a mix of disappointment and frustration. Edward saw Andrew’s safe return much as he would any business deal. Transaction complete. Next.

  “I’m sorry, Edward. I’m not interested in the governor or...anyone else at the moment. I nearly lost my son, and through a miracle—” a dark-eyed cowboy of a miracle, she thought but didn’t say “—I have him back. As I told you last night, since I no longer have the paper, I intend to spend more time with my son.”

  “Rebecca, dearest, of course you want to be with your son.” His tone was contrite. “I was being a rude and selfish bore. Please forgive me.”

  “Of course, Edward,” she replied, out of courtesy, not sincerity.

  He looked doubtful but didn’t press the point. “I am sorry about the paper, but you’ll find that you won’t miss it.” He brightened. “I intend to count on you heavily for your guidance and support in the upcoming campaign. Why, I’ll venture to say that we’ll be so busy you won’t have any time for regrets.”

  “We’ll see,” Rebecca murmured, and started for the house. Edward fell in alongside her.

  “Rebecca.”

  “Yes.”

  “About the marshal...”

  “What about him?”

  “You are certain he’s no longer staying here?”

  “I told you so, didn’t I?” she snapped.

  “Yes. Yes. It’s just that people will talk, and—”

  “I really don’t care what people think, Edward. It’s none of their business.”

  “Now, dearest, don’t get upset. I know you’ve been under quite a strain, and you haven’t been thinking as clearly as you normally would.”

  “I am thinking quite clearly, thank you very much. I’ll have anyone I like stay here or not, and I don’t give a da—”

  “Rebecca!”

  She sighed. “For heaven’s sake, Edward. My son was kidnapped, Ruth was ill... The man is an old friend, and a professional lawman. He was the one who risked his life to get Andrew back.”

  Edward looked serious. “I never meant to imply anything wrong. It’s just that Andrew is home now, and the man is still here.”

  “He’s not here. How many times do I have to say it?”

  “Yes, dear. I’m only looking out for your own good.”

  There was that paternal tone again and, right on cue, her temper edged up. She knew he was right. She had run the risk of gossip having a stranger—a single, handsome, unmarried stranger—stay with her. Having him there had been an even greater risk, one that the good people of San Francisco would never suspect.

  They climbed the three porch steps and went into the back entryway and down the hall to the front of the house. She avoided the kitchen, fearing that Luke was there. She didn’t want another scene.

  “It’s very thoughtful of you to worry about me and my reputation, Edward.” She couldn’t keep a tinge of sarcasm out of her voice. “Please don’t. I scandalized this town when I kept the paper, and they managed to get over it. I think everyone will get over this, too.”

  “This isn’t a matter for joking, Rebecca.”

  “What makes you think I am?” She pulled open the front door. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I want to spend the rest of the day with my son.”

  “I’ll give the governor your regrets.”

  “Please do.” She closed the door softly behind him and headed for the kitchen.

  * * *

  “What do you mean they aren’t here?” She addressed Ruth, who was finishing a glass of lemonade, the ice cubes clinking against the side of the crystal.

  Ruth peered at her over the rim of the glass. “Well, a policeman came, saying they needed more information on the kidnapping. The marshal said he’d take Andrew and bring him back.”

  “And you just let them go?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, Andrew is safe with the marshal.” Her brows drew down. “He said they’d be back in a couple of hours.”

  “How could you do that without asking me?”

  “What was there to ask? The marshal needed Andrew to help relate the whole story to the police.”

  “But Andrew—”

  “Was more than happy to go along. I saw you were with Edward, and I thought you might be talking business or some such, and I didn’t want to disturb you. If it had been anyone but the
marshal, of course, I would have said no, but under the circumstances, Andrew can’t be with anyone better.”

  “Or anyone worse,” Rebecca muttered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luke kept Andrew wedged securely in front of him as they rode double. They were headed for police headquarters, on California Street. Saddle leather creaked as Andrew shifted and squirmed in the saddle.

  “We coulda won, you know, Luke,” Andrew pronounced, twisting his small body to look back at Luke.

  “Next time, partner,” Luke countered. He adjusted his hat lower against the midmorning sun. “There’s always next time.”

  Andrew’s face screwed up in serious consideration, and Luke chuckled. He hadn’t realized that kids took things so seriously. Of course, his experience with children was virtually nonexistent, so this was a learn-as-you-go proposition.

  “You wanna hold the reins?” he asked.

  “Can I?” Andrew craned around, his black eyes sparkling with anticipation, then bounced up and down.

  “Sure. Sit very still.” Luke threaded the reins through Andrew’s fingers. The thick leather was so wide he could barely hold them. Luke knew the gelding had a soft mouth, and so he cautioned, “Now don’t pull back, okay? You don’t want to hurt him.”

  “I’ll be real careful” came the solemn reply.

  Luke kept his hands resting lightly on his thighs, letting the boy get the feel of the horse. “Do you know how to ride?” he asked after a minute or so.

  “Well, no. My papa was gonna teach me, but he went to heaven before he could.”

  Luke felt a tug of sadness for the boy, knowing what it was like growing up without a father. “What about your mother?”

  “She said she’s gonna...soon. Real soon.”

  “You think she’d mind if I gave you a lesson?”

  “Oh, no, sir.” The eagerness in his voice was unmistakable.

  So Luke spent the next couple of minutes explaining the fine points of riding in the Western fashion. He didn’t know the first thing about those tiny little saddles the dudes seemed to prefer. As they continued, he realized he was enjoying this—a great deal. There was something about being with Andrew that felt, well, familiar, which was silly. They’d only just met. Still, it was a feeling he’d had from the first. It was a nice feeling, and he gave in to it.