Renee Ryan

by The Outlaw's Redemption

  “You’ll—” she felt her heart squeeze “—what?”

  “I will marry you,” he repeated.

  “You will?” This was what she’d wanted. But something was wrong. Where were the love words? He wasn’t saying them because he didn’t love her.

  Her stomach did a slow, agonizing roll. Hunter wasn’t supposed to be this calm, this steady, this everything when her dreams were shattering at her feet. “Why do you want to marry me?”

  “He’s being noble, that’s why. Misguided fool.” Mattie nudged him back a step with her hip.

  “I am sincere.” He spoke the words to Annabeth.

  Mattie scoffed. “Come now, Hunter.” She nudged him again. “We both know what this is and what this isn’t.”

  What was that supposed to mean? Was her mother speaking in some sort of code? Annabeth cocked her head in confusion. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

  “It’s not that complicated, Annabeth.” Mattie pursed her lips. “Hunter thinks that by giving you the Mitchell name he will be able to soften the disgrace you must suffer because of your connection with me.”

  Oh. Oh.

  “Is that true?” She looked at him for confirmation.

  He didn’t deny Mattie’s accusation. Instead, he took her hands again. “Marry me, Annabeth.” He punctuated the proposal with a smile. “Allow me to give you the protection of my name.”

  No. This couldn’t be happening. She wanted to cover her ears. She wanted to run. But her mother was right. Hunter—the misguided, noble, decent man—wanted to marry her in order to shield her from scandal.

  Surely that meant he cared for her, if only a little.

  Was it enough? Could she marry him knowing he didn’t love her in the same way she loved him?

  No.

  Yes.

  Yes, she could. Because she wasn’t ready to give up on him, or them, not yet. What better way to win his heart than by living with him, day in and day out, as his wife?

  She opened her mouth to tell him yes, she would marry him, but Mattie wasn’t finished mounting her protest. “You should understand, Hunter.” She physically pulled him away from Annabeth. “That by marrying my daughter you will also be gaining me as your mother-in-law.”

  He laughed. “I’m well aware.”

  “Are you, now?” She jammed her hands on her hips. “Then you should also be aware that I shall have no compunction in hurting the man who hurts my Annabeth.”

  Annabeth gasped.

  Hunter simply walked over to Mattie and took her hands in the same tender hold he’d used with Annabeth. “Message received, my friend. And for the record, I would be honored to have you as my mother-in-law.”

  He looked sincere.

  He sounded sincere.

  He was sincere.

  Annabeth just had to...stare. He was such a good man. She didn’t want him to marry her out of obligation. She wanted him to marry her because he loved her.

  “You do realize,” Mattie began, her whole demeanor softening, “that my objection to you marrying Annabeth isn’t personal.”

  Annabeth suppressed a groan at her audacious mother. No one could ever accuse Mattie Silks of refusing to speak her mind.

  “Of course it’s personal,” Hunter said, laughing again, this time in genuine amusement. “Can’t say I blame you, all things considered.”

  “Now don’t misunderstand.” Mattie patted him on the cheek. “I firmly believe you will make some woman a fine husband one day.”

  “Just not your daughter.”

  “Well, yes.” Remorse flashed across Mattie’s face. “Just not Annabeth.”

  “You do realize my family’s reputation is one of the best in the state.”

  “Yes,” Mattie agreed. “But what of your reputation?”

  “Stop fretting, my friend.” Hunter yanked Mattie into a hug, sufficiently cutting off further protest. “If Annabeth agrees to marry me, she will be allowed to change her mind at any point and return to Denver, or wherever she wishes to go.”

  “That’s not an acceptable solution.” Mattie shoved away from him. “Divorce is no less scandalous than having a mother like me.”

  “I was referring to an annulment. Our marriage will be in name only.”

  What? What? “Now wait just a minute.” Annabeth stepped into Hunter’s line of vision and put on her best scowl. “I never said anything about a marriage in name only.”

  He set her out of his way. “Not now, Annabeth.”

  “Yes, now.” She scrambled back around him. “This is a most important detail that cannot be glossed over just to appease my mother.”

  “Please, just...hold on a minute.” His unspoken message was clear. I can only deal with one riled-up female at a time.

  Ignoring her completely now, he guided Mattie into a chair and smiled down at her. There was such warmth in his gaze that Annabeth relented.

  Hunter cared about Mattie. He really did.

  Crouching in front of her, he began a quiet, heartfelt conversation just between the two of them. He spoke of honor and duty first, then turned to the importance of family. When he reintroduced the idea of Mattie joining them on the ranch, she didn’t balk this time. She simply listened.

  Hunter had her full attention, all because he looked past her sin and straight to the person underneath. Annabeth was humbled by his approach. Even when he talked about second chances and the freedom in Christ he didn’t sound like a preacher. He sounded reasonable, heartfelt and believable.

  Annabeth had to look away. She did not look at Hunter again. She couldn’t. Because if she did, she would have to accept that her feelings for him weren’t reciprocated, and might never be.

  If she married Hunter, she would be doing so for all the right reasons, while he would be marrying her for all the wrong ones.

  She shook her head, trying desperately to focus on anything but the despair growing in her heart. But then she thought of Sarah. If Annabeth married Hunter, Sarah would have both a mother and a father in her home. That mattered, far more than her own impractical dream of happily-ever-after.

  “...and that’s the end of it, Mattie.”

  “Oh, Hunter, my dear, dear boy.” Mattie slapped him playfully on the arm. “That remains to be seen.”

  What remained to be seen? What had Annabeth missed?

  Hunter squeezed Mattie’s hand, then stood. “I realize you have much to discuss with your daughter.” He hooked a thumb in Annabeth’s direction. “I’ll leave you two alone now.”

  With efficient, short strides, he headed toward the exit.

  Annabeth rushed after him, only catching him after he swung open the door.

  “Perhaps I’ll go with you,” she suggested, having no desire to face her mother alone right now. “You know, discuss the details of our upcoming nuptials and—”

  He pressed his fingertip to her lips. “Stay, Annabeth. Talk this over with your mother.”

  That’s all he was going to say to her? Couldn’t he give her a few tender words before he left?

  Our marriage will be in name only. Not if Annabeth had anything to say about it.

  “We’ll have our own discussion soon. But first, you need to sort out a few details with your mother.”

  “You can’t just leave me here.” She searched her mind for a reason why. “How will I get back to Charity House?” All right, she was reaching now. She’d made the trek back to Charity House a dozen times in the past few months. She didn’t need him, or any man, to escort her home.

  “Mattie has assured me she’ll see you home safe and sound.” He pressed his palm to her cheek, a look of affection in his eyes. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

  With those parting words, he left the room. Annabeth watched him go, but he didn’t look back at her, not once.

  Sighing, she shut the door and then pressed her forehead to the wood.

  She heard the rustle of silk a second before Mattie placed a hand on her back. “So, you are determined to marry him.�
��

  “What does it matter?” Squeezing her eyes shut, she flattened a palm against the door. “You heard what he said.”

  “I also heard what he didn’t say.”

  Not sure what that meant, Annabeth lifted her head, thought to turn around and face her mother head-on, but decided she needed another moment. She pressed her forehead again to the door and curled her fingers into the material of her dress.

  Hunter’s words swam in her mind. Our marriage will be in name only. Another sigh leaked out of her mouth. “He doesn’t want me.”

  “Oh, he wants you.”

  “Not like a man is supposed to want the woman he’s about to marry.”

  “Yes, Annabeth, he does. In this particular area, I’m an expert.”

  Perhaps that was true. Most of the time. But in this situation, the most notorious madam in Denver was wrong. So very wrong.

  “He’s just being noble, you said so yourself. I’ll be nothing more than a glorified nanny for his daughter.”

  “Then be his daughter’s nanny and nothing more.” Mattie’s hands closed over her shoulders and then gently turned her around. “I beseech you, Annabeth, don’t marry Hunter Mitchell.”

  “But I want to marry him. I want to be his wife.”

  “Don’t make my same mistakes,” Mattie warned, her hands still clutching Annabeth’s shoulders. “You can’t change a man, any man.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know what it’s like to try.” Mattie dropped her hands. “You’re only setting yourself up for heartbreak.”

  Was she? Did it matter? “He needs me.”

  “Oh, Annabeth.” Mattie shook her head sadly. “Let some other woman save his soul.”

  Her mother didn’t understand. Annabeth wasn’t trying to save Hunter’s soul. Only God could do that. All she wanted was to be a soft force in his life, a gentle touch when the world threw him punches.

  She wanted to be the woman to soothe away the pain of his past, to watch that haunted look in his eyes disappear over time. She wanted to provide joy and peace and love in their home. Not only for Hunter, but for Sarah as well, and maybe even for herself.

  All three of them deserved a chance at happiness and a place to call their own. Why not build that place together?

  “There’s something else you should consider,” Mattie said. “Hunter is a man.”

  “Well, that certainly needed clearing up.”

  Mattie ignored her sarcasm. “He may say he wants a marriage in name only. He may have vowed that you will leave his home untouched if you change your mind. He may even believe that, but—”

  “I believe him.”

  “You shouldn’t. He’s a strong, healthy, vigorous young man.” Mattie sighed. “Eventually, he will want more from you.”

  Oh, Annabeth hoped so. She really, truly hoped so. Although she wasn’t quite sure what marital intimacy involved, how she felt when Hunter kissed her told her it would likely be pleasant. Her cheeks warmed. “If matters change between us in that way, well, that will be our concern, not yours.”

  “He spent the past two years in prison,” Mattie said, trying a different tactic. “There is no tenderness in him.”

  Annabeth disagreed. He was capable of great tenderness. After the way he’d treated her this very afternoon, Mattie had to know this. She had to realize her arguments didn’t hold up under close scrutiny. “I am willing to take that risk.”

  “There will be no finesse in his kisses.”

  Seeing as she had proof otherwise, Annabeth thoroughly disagreed. “I am willing to take that risk,” she repeated.

  “He will break your heart,” Mattie reiterated.

  Yes, very likely, he would.

  But what if he didn’t? What if he turned out to be the man of her dreams?

  Her heart filled with unspeakable hope. And she repeated her new mantra a third time. “I am willing to take that risk.”

  “Annabeth, you aren’t thinking clearly.”

  “On the contrary, Mother. I am thinking clearer than I ever have before.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hunter twisted right then left, blinking furiously to clear his vision. He was back in the dark alley. His wife a few steps ahead of him. She’d turned the wrong way again, when he’d unwisely let his guard down.

  He reached for her in the same way he did every night. This time, he caught her arm. But his grip slipped and she continued on without him. She seemed to disappear a little more with each step she took, her image becoming a watery blur.

  “Jane, stop!” Hunter shouted after her, his voice hollow in his own ears.

  The shadowy figure of Cole Kincaid materialized just out of Hunter’s reach.

  “Jane, behind you. He’s right behind you.”

  As if sensing the fear in his voice, she turned to look at him. “Not to worry, my love. I’m in a safe place now.”

  But she wasn’t safe.

  Cole was pulling a knife from his pocket. The blade morphed into a gun. Grinning sinisterly, Cole pointed the barrel at Jane’s head, and...

  Bang!

  Jane crumpled to the ground.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Hunter staggered forward, reaching for his wife, but he missed and hit the ground hard. The impact knocked the breath out of him. He dragged in choking gulps of air. “Jane. I failed you again.”

  She came into view again and touched his face. “It’s finished, Hunter. You can let me go now.”

  Another round of gunfire exploded through the air.

  This time when Hunter reached for his wife his hands wrapped around Kincaid’s beefy neck.

  The scenery suddenly changed and they were in Mattie’s sitting room.

  Cole collapsed to the ground, Hunter’s hands still on the outlaw’s throat. The man’s eyes bulged, his face a dingy, lifeless gray now.

  “Hunter, open up.”

  His brother’s voice came at him from a distance, like an unwanted echo inside his head. He shook free of the insistent call to come home. The past beckoned, pulling him deeper into its sinister danger.

  The pounding resumed, fist against wood. “Hunter. I know you’re in there.”

  He knew that voice, even if he hadn’t heard it in years. Hunter’s mind cleared. He sat up slowly and rubbed at his gritty eyes.

  “Only a dream,” he murmured. The same gut-twisting nightmare that had plagued him every night since Jane’s death.

  Jane. No matter how hard he tried to hold on to her, her face was growing more obscure in his mind, her individual features harder to remember. It was as if he was losing her all over again.

  Losing her? Or letting her go?

  Bang, bang, bang.

  “Hunter. I mean it. Enough stalling.” The doorknob rattled. “You have thirty seconds to open up or I’m breaking down this door.”

  Logan’s low-pitched baritone teemed with frustration.

  “All right, all right.” Hunter threw off the covers and padded across the room. “I’m coming.”

  “Ten seconds down,” came the harsh warning, “twenty to go.”

  Strangely, Hunter found himself smiling. Same old impatient Logan.

  “Fifteen seconds.”

  Eyes still gritty, throat raw, he yanked open the door, and confronted his brother’s scowl.

  It was like looking in a mirror, and no less surprising than in years past. Only eleven months younger, Logan had Hunter’s same build, hair color and nearly identical features. The only difference was their eye color.

  Arms crossed over his chest, Logan stared at him. He made no move to push into the room. The calm demeanor was a facade. The man hummed with controlled energy, waiting, measuring, gauging.

  Outwardly, Hunter remained equally calm, equally controlled, one hand resting on the door, the other on the opposite doorjamb. A sense of inevitability slammed through him. This meeting had been coming for a long time.

  When the silence stretched long and uncomfortable, Logan ran his g
aze over Hunter and grimaced. “You look awful.”

  “Good to see you, too, little brother.” Hunter touched his brow in a mock salute.

  Logan’s lips twisted at a wry angle.

  Here it comes, Hunter thought. The reproach, the detailed list of his past transgressions, the reminder he’d made a complete mess of his life.

  Confronting more silence, Hunter eyed his brother with suspicion, his guard up.

  Logan simply smiled. “You going to invite me in?”

  Caught in a mild state of surprise, a slow rush of air hissed out of his lungs. Ever since leaving prison Hunter had felt “eyes” on him, as if someone was tracking him. When really his imagination had been working overtime, preparing him for this unavoidable confrontation with his estranged brother. The churning in his gut eased and he moved aside to let Logan pass.

  Two steps forward and the man’s gaze fell on the rumpled bedcovers. “I woke you.”

  “I had a late night.”

  One arched brow was his brother’s only response.

  “I was at Mattie’s brothel.”

  As soon as he spoke the words, Hunter’s mind immediately jumped to Annabeth and her unprecedented marriage proposal. He knew he should stop the insanity as quickly as possible. Marriage to a man like him was a losing proposition for a woman like her. But after considerable thought, Hunter had come to the conclusion that their union made sense.

  Sarah needed both a mother and a father, and Annabeth needed the Mitchell name.

  “You went to...Mattie’s?” Logan’s brow traveled higher.

  A slew of questions lit in the other man’s gaze, but he didn’t voice any of them. The restraint was new. By this point in the conversation Logan was usually spouting off the same tired sermon about it not being too late to change his life.

  They both knew it was never too late. God’s mercy was fathomless and available to all His children. Hunter had needed to come to that realization in his own time, and in his own way.

  Again, he wondered why Logan wasn’t preaching to him.

  “What?” His voice came out raw, gravelly. “No urging me to mend my wicked ways?”

  Logan lifted a shoulder. “If you were at Mattie’s last night, you had a reason. And I guarantee it wasn’t why most men frequent her establishment.”