Kenner’s narrowed eyes followed the exchange, then flicked to Jesse’s face.
“I’m sure Mr....” She trailed off, and Jim’s brother was quick to say,
“Jared Kenner.”
“Mr. Kenner needs to return to work. Why don’t you join us for supper tonight and we can discuss this further?”
The man opened his mouth and Jesse knew he was going to refuse. Erin rushed on.
“We can eat at the restaurant in the hotel—the Grand Atlantic—”
Kenner’s eyes went wide. But Erin wasn’t done yet.
“You should bring your... I thought I heard you say you had a girl that was particularly special to you...? Say seven o’clock?”
The man nodded silently, looking a bit like Jesse had felt last night as Erin had ordered him about from the train station to the hotel—railroaded.
“Perfect. All right, Jesse. We should finish our errands and return to check on Pete.”
She started for the door but Jesse’s feet remained rooted to the floor. Erin looked over her shoulder at him, beckoning him to follow.
Kenner spoke in a low voice. “She know about your connection to Jim, whatever it is? Bet she wouldn’t look at you like that if she did.”
He was right. Jesse walked out of the office, torn—part of him wanted to go back in and demand Kenner do the right thing and get back to Boston to take care of his family, but Jesse followed Erin helplessly.
Erin looked up at him with an apologetic smile as he took her elbow. “At least he didn’t say a final no. Perhaps we—you—can still persuade him.”
Jesse shook his head, boosting her into the cab and then settling next to her, acutely aware of her warmth as they were pressed together in the seat. “He seemed determined, set in his ways.” And Jesse couldn’t blame the man, being estranged from his own mother.
“You’re an intelligent man, and I’ve got some ideas, as well. Between the both of us, surely we can come up with some way to get him back to Boston.”
How much had she heard? Was she suspicious about his connections to Jim’s family? Jesse couldn’t tell from the corner of his eye, but she wasn’t treating him any differently than before.
* * *
Erin was more convinced than ever that there was much she didn’t know about Jesse. Neither her dear friend Pat nor her father were men who liked to chatter, but Jesse seemed to keep even more about himself private.
After Pete’s statement last night that he had no brother, she’d begun to reflect on the small discrepancies she’d sensed between the two brothers. Was it possible they weren’t actually related? They didn’t seem close, but neither was she close to her older brother, Chas, even though she had embarked on this Christmas visit.
She sensed there were things the two Bakers weren’t telling her, but what? She’d already decided to ask some pointed questions when they returned to the hotel, but she really wanted to talk to both brothers together. She’d bide her time.
“I asked the driver to take us to some shops.” The carriage slowed and stopped even as she spoke. “And here we are.”
She followed Jesse out of the conveyance, allowing the driver to assist her before she slipped him a coin for the ride.
It was still quite early, as she hadn’t known how long Jesse’s errand would take. They had plenty of time before she’d told the nurse they would return.
People moved quickly along the sidewalks, some carrying Christmas packages, most with heads ducked into their collars against the biting wind. At least it wasn’t snowing. When someone accidentally shouldered into Jesse, he half turned with a shout of “Hey—” before he bit off the word as if coming to his senses. The person who’d bumped him didn’t even notice, kept right on going.
She thought she’d seen him do something similar at the train station last night as they’d fought their way through the crowds trying to help Pete.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded, face drawn and with that muscle ticking away in his cheek.
The storefronts were decorated for the holiday, some with posted signs declaring discounts. A boy hawked papers on the corner, shouting loudly above the din of voices and carriages. There must be a bakery down the street because yeasty, doughy smells wafted on the brisk breeze to tickle her nose.
The Christmas spirit seemed to abound, except in the man standing next to her. “Erin, I already told you I can’t afford to buy anything.”
“Well, Pete can’t very well go around without clothing, can he? Especially not in this weather.” She meant the words as a tease, but his expression didn’t waver from its seriousness.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I don’t like taking charity.” There was something behind the words he bit out, some deeper emotion she could see behind his eyes but that she couldn’t decipher.
“Consider it a Christmas gift from a new friend,” she said softly, imploring him with a hand against his arm. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting help when it is needed.”
She thought he groaned, but she couldn’t be sure because a horse and buggy clattered its way down the street just at that moment.
“All right. As soon as I get a job, I’ll pay you back, though. Where do you want to go?”
She pulled him into a clothing store on the ground floor of a multistoried building. “We should be able to find something in here.”
He seemed lost in thought as he absently followed her through the rows of hanging clothing toward the children’s section. A sales clerk directed them toward the boys’ clothing, and Erin began browsing, though she noted how the other woman’s gaze lingered on Jesse.
Erin bypassed the fancy suits and fine woven shirts for the sturdier wool pants, noting that shirts to match were nearby. She’d love to gift the boy with both a Sunday suit and play clothes—it wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford it with the allowance she’d put aside for months—but she doubted Jesse would agree to such a large gift.
“Do you think Pete would prefer brown or gray?” Either color would keep too much dirt from showing.
“Hmm?” Jesse looked up from several feet away and their gazes clashed.
She lifted a pair of brown trousers for his perusal, but he shrugged helplessly. “I suppose they’re fine.”
He seemed distracted and tense. She put the pants back and moved toward him. “If you really don’t want me to purchase these for Pete—”
He shook his head. “It’s not that. I was just thinking...about some other things.”
“What other things? Perhaps another opinion could be of help.”
He smiled, but it was stiff. “I doubt you could understand. It’s not something someone like you could—I mean—”
She stiffened. Someone like her? A woman?
Now he sounded like her father, who often claimed that Erin was too naive or uneducated to be able to understand. Did Jesse think of her the same way?
Blinking against a sudden sting of tears, she turned away, blindly reaching for something nearby. A shirt crumpled to the floor, slipping from her numb fingers. She knelt to pick it up, grateful for a moment to keep her face down, so he wouldn’t see the embarrassing emotion she knew he would be able to see there.
She’d thought they were friends. Equals.
“Erin?” he asked.
And then he was there, kneeling before her, reaching for the shirt as well, enfolding her hand between both of his.
She pulled away, wiping at a stray tear that slipped down her cheek. “I’m all right. Just overtired and anxious over Pete, I suppose.” It was partly true, but she desperately didn’t want this man that she was coming to admire to pity her. She rose and turned her back, pretending to look at a rack of light blue shirts.
But Jesse followed her relentlessly, his large palm covering her out
stretched hand with its warmth.
“Did I offend you?” His voice came low in her ear.
She shook her head, unable to force words past the lump in her throat.
“What did I say? That you wouldn’t understand?”
She stilled, and knew that her actions had given her away.
“I only meant that you’re...obviously very well-off. We’re from very different circumstances.”
She turned to face him, aware that her eyes probably sparkled with unshed tears. “You mean you didn’t say that because I was a woman?”
His brows drew together comically. “No!” he blurted. “Of course not. It’s just... The last time I’d been in a store like this was with my ma...a long time ago.”
She let out a deep breath, bringing her emotions back under control. She must be overtired from the trip and Pete’s long night. Usually, her emotions weren’t so close to the surface.
“You and Pete don’t speak of your family often,” she said, watching his face. Perhaps this topic was skirting what she hoped to talk about when they returned to the hotel, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about him.
“Hmm.” He half turned away, fingering one of the shirts on another rack. For a moment she didn’t think he would elaborate, but then he went on, voice low. “I can’t speak for the kid, but for me most of the memories are...painful.”
“Do you miss her—your mother—very much? I imagine you must.”
He stared at the rack of suit jackets before him, not seeming to see it at all. “I miss the way things were when I was a kid. Younger than Pete.”
What a curious statement. “What changed?”
“My father died and my ma remarried. And my stepfather was... He wasn’t a kind man.”
“Was he why you left?”
His face darkened, turning stormy. He nodded tightly and turned toward the clothing, “We’d probably better get back. Let’s find some things for the kid,” he said, changing the subject.
She allowed it, because he’d finally opened up and told her something personal. But she couldn’t resist laying her hand on his arm and saying, “But you’ve turned into a fine man in spite of it. You came back for Pete, after all.”
He stilled and looked down at her, almost as if he couldn’t believe what she’d said. She squeezed his arm and held up the pants she’d been considering earlier. “Brown or gray?”
He squinted at them, then cut his eyes to her. “You want both, don’t you?”
She nodded, not daring to smile. He shook his head, but his lips quirked and she knew he would agree.
“You’re a good man, Jesse Baker,” she murmured, pivoting to find the shirts.
* * *
“Do you think the nurse will be all right for a bit longer? I’d like to walk through the park.” Erin nodded toward a swath of trees across the busy street. She juggled the wrapped packages in her arms and Jesse belatedly moved to take them from her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her gratefulness shining up at him in her eyes. “The sales clerk said our hotel is only a few blocks over, past the park. I’d love to stretch my legs a bit more before we retire to the hotel, but only if you think Pete will be all right....”
“I’m sure he’s still asleep.” He was already following her, as she’d set off before she even finished speaking.
“With all the sitting on the train, I felt quite restless when I woke this morning. And two more days to go.”
He let her chatter flow over him. He liked that she hadn’t pressed him for more details while they’d shopped for Pete’s things. He liked that she admired him, even if she shouldn’t.
Inside the store, he’d been caught in remembrances of what it had been like when he’d been a successful con man, with full pockets. He’d had several fine suits and two pairs of nice shoes.
And now he had to start all over. Even the clothes on his back weren’t his own. He didn’t kid himself that it would be easy finding honest work, but when he’d gotten out of prison he’d been determined to try.
He should ask Jared Kenner about getting work tonight when he saw the other man. Perhaps the man might know of something.
Thoughts of how easy it would be to spin a story for one of the patrons at the hotel plagued Jesse. If he got some quick cash, he could set himself up and be that much ahead.
But something inside him balked at the idea. He had a niggling idea it might be Erin’s influence.
The internal debate whirling through his brain had distracted him as Erin had started shopping and then she’d gotten upset and he’d blurted the first thing that had come to mind to keep her from crying.
Then he’d got his head on straight and they’d enjoyed selecting several items for Pete. Jesse hoped the boy would be pleased at Erin’s thoughtfulness when they returned.
Stepping into the park was like stepping into another world. The brick-paved walkways had been shoveled clear by someone, but snow drifts buried the rest of the landscape in white, only broken by the dark skeletons of bare trees. The bright morning sun glinted off nearly every surface, making Jesse squint.
Beside him, Erin took it all in with wide-eyed wonder, her expressive face open.
They walked in silence among the snow, soaking up the late-morning sunshine, when a pair of birds swooped down before them, chattering and fluttering for all they were worth. They swooped up into a nearby tree and settled, still chirping at each other. They sounded like two little neighbor ladies upset about something.
“Oh!” Erin exclaimed in a hushed whisper, tugging on his arm. “Can we stop? Just for a moment?”
She began to rifle through the satchel she’d carried with her all morning, finally coming up with her drawing book.
“Ah, the ever-present sketchbook,” he teased.
She thwapped him on the upper arm as she dug in her satchel, at last holding up a pencil with a triumphant but soft “Aha!” Then she edged toward the birds in their tree, moving slowly and with only the soft shushing of her hem against the snow on the ground disturbing the peaceful morning.
He advanced slowly, watching the quick movements of her hand over the paper, watching her eyes dart to the birds and then back to her page. She flipped to a new page in the book and began again.
She was much more interesting than any birds or scenery.
Her eyes jumped to him briefly, as if to assess his level of impatience. “Just another moment...”
He started to say, “I’m not in any hurry—” but a bright red projectile hurled toward his head.
Chapter Nine
His first instinct was to duck or flinch, but Erin’s cry of “Oh, don’t move!” froze him in place quicker than any command from a prison guard had done in five years.
Something tapped on the brim of his Stetson, then a soft flutter made him aware that a bird—a red one—must’ve landed right on the brim of his brown hat.
And Erin was furiously attempting to capture it on paper.
He remained still, more from the joyful light in her eyes than her command. He watched her eyes flick from a point above his head to her sketchbook as her pencil skimmed over the page. Her concentration was marked in the small purse of her lips. Drawing his attention there.
And then her focus changed. It was subtle, but for someone who made details his business, he noticed. Now her eyes traveled his face, and the hint of a smile played at the corner of her lips.
“You’re not drawing the bird any longer,” he accused softly, moving toward her.
The bird flew off with a sharp flutter of its wings.
Erin stepped backward, still feverishly filling the page with her sketch.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. But the small smile trembling on the edges of her lips bel
ied her words.
“You’re drawing me. Let me see.”
“No!” She snapped the book closed, now with a full-fledged smile aimed at him. “And why shouldn’t I use you as a subject? It’s a fine, strong face you have.”
Heat flooded his face, and triumph expanded his chest at her flirting admission. Something was growing between them, and he didn’t know what to do about it. But he knew what he wanted to do about it. He advanced on her, dropping Pete’s wrapped packages in the snow. She allowed him to catch her much too easily, and he captured both her elbows in his palms, holding her close enough to count her eyelashes, close enough that his breath riffled the fine hairs at her temple.
She looked up at him with those luminous blue eyes, and his gut tightened. He couldn’t resist her. Jesse leaned close and brushed his lips over hers in a kiss.
It had been more than five years since he’d kissed a woman, but even if it had been five days, Erin’s kiss would have erased all memories of kisses before it. She was fire in his arms for the brief moment their lips met, and then she pulled away, or he did.
He didn’t—couldn’t—release her arms and they stood close in the bright morning stillness, his chin brushing her forehead as their breaths misted in front of them.
He was shaking.
When she pulled away, he squatted to gather the packages he’d so heedlessly dropped, trying to hide his rioting emotions.
She seemed to know the kiss had thrown him, because she simply threaded her arm around his elbow and set off toward the hotel.
He wanted it—whatever was between them—to be real. He knew she was far above his station, knew that if she discovered his past, she would shun his company. But it didn’t stop his heart from nearly beating out of his chest at having her close by his side. It didn’t stop him from wanting what couldn’t be.
He felt fifteen again, wanting something just out of reach. Would he never get it?
* * *
Counterfeit Cowboy Page 8
