Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (80 page)

Chapter Thirteen

M
ary couldn't stop trembling.

Lou had pulled away and was busy toweling dry the rest of his face and neck. “How much is left to shave?” he asked.

“I completed the task.” Her lips burned, but she didn't dare touch them in front of him. Would he see how she shook, how unsettled she felt? She stepped back and bumped against the window.

“Mary...I shouldn't have done that.” He faced her and the look of chagrin on his features nearly crumpled her. Was it so bad to have kissed her, then? “We have too much going on to dabble in romantic affections. Why, this place could be sold in a week, and then we'll probably never see each other again.” He kept talking, his words swirling through her mind with an odd energy. Each time his lips moved she felt something inside her grow more brittle and finally, when she could stand no more of his pointless ramblings, she stepped away from the window and fixed him a very pointed look.

“
You
kissed me,” she said briskly, thankful her voice did not betray her shakiness. “Do not pull a 'we' into this.”

“But you liked it.”

At that, her cheeks caught fire. A boldness in his bright blue eyes made her think he wasn't as chagrined as she'd previously thought. “My feelings on the subject are not important.”

“Oh, but they are. Tell me, Mary,
did
you like it?”

She wanted to be anywhere but here. If only she could escape, but with her back to the window, there was nowhere to go besides past Lou, and with that curious look on his face, there was no telling what he might do. She squirmed beneath his scrutiny.

“It was...” She paused and then settled on a word. “Enlightening.”

His arms crossed his chest as he grinned. “How so?”

“Like s-stumbling on the right recipe for piecrust,” she stuttered. The conceited man was still smirking, broad enough to give her a hankering to toss an egg at his face. She wanted to tell him so, but restraint held her lips closed. Instead, she settled for a dark scowl.

He busted into a loud laugh, the kind she hadn't heard from him in too long.

“I'm glad, Mary, real glad you liked it. It worried me a bit that you might be scared and all.” Despite the smile, his gaze searched her.

Affronted, she felt her scowl deepening. “I am no longer the young woman brought to you on the threshold of collapse.”

“Very true.” His gaze dropped to her lips.

She felt that look to the marrow of her bones. Swallowing hard, she fixed her gaze on him. “As a matter of fact, I am looking into opportunities at this very moment. There are several available stores in Burns and I believe I can rent one and run a business.”

“What kind of venture are you thinking of?” Lou tossed his towel to the chair. It slipped to the floor.

She bent to pick up at the towel the same time he did.

“I reckon she could do just 'bout anything” came a voice from the doorway.

Hurriedly, Lou straightened, the towel in his hand, and as he did, a folded paper fluttered to the floor. Perhaps from his shirt pocket? She plucked the note off the floor while Lou and James spoke of the trip tomorrow.

The paper between her fingers looked suspiciously official. Could there be more news on who'd shot Lou? Perhaps the perpetrator had been caught. Should she open it? Nibbling her lower lip, she peeked at the men.

They spoke in hushed voices, bodies facing away from her. She turned her back to them and pretended to organize the shaving utensils while an internal war ensued. Unlike Gracie, she didn't go around eavesdropping or telling people what she thought.

She was careful. Considerate... Her nose wrinkled. Boring.

Yes, Gracie was fun and alive and she, Mary, led a very careful, very structured life, with no room for surprises. Not until she'd brought Josie home.

The letter mocked her, its flap open just enough for her to see the typewritten note inside. Biting her lower lip, she cast the men one more look before positioning her body at an angle best designed to hide her sneakiness.

Her heart knocked about wildly in her chest. Quickly she unfolded the paper and scanned its contents. As she did, her pulse ratcheted until she could no longer quite contain her breathing.

How dare he? Throat tight and pained, she very neatly folded the paper, creasing the lines just so. Her fingers shook as she pressed on the paper.

“That right, Mary?”

Startled, she sucked in a lungful and pivoted, the letter clutched in her right hand, which she dropped to her side. “I missed what you said.”

“James says you should start a restaurant. I agree. Your baking is superb,” said Lou. The rat. The coward.

Betrayer.

All those names, and more, hopscotched through her mind and stuck there. A pounding took up residence in her skull, along with the words of the letter. He'd known. This entire time, he'd known and not said one word. Speechless, she could only stand there as her skin set aflame with anger.

“Well, now—” James scratched his head “—I do believe she's angry.”

“About what?” Lou scoffed.

“Iffn' I knew, I'd say so, but women get me all gandered up. I can't tell left from right.”

Lou's cheeks bunched. “Nah, Mary only gets angry once a year.”

Her eyes stung.

“Hoooeeee, I'm hightailin' it out of here.” James gave her a once-over, then his mustache twitched. “Just came by to say things are all set for you leaving tomorrow. I'll take you to the train in the morning and the bureau is getting you some hotel rooms for one night only. Time enough to find Josie's mom and then skedaddle.” He edged backward.

Mary fought tears, refusing to show her weakness. James disappeared from the doorway and Lou turned to her, forehead crinkled in a charmingly deceptive way.

“What's going on? A delayed reaction to the kiss?” He swiped the towel from where it hung around his neck and tossed it to the chair. “It's better to talk now than to hold things inside.”

The letter lay in her palm. She could throw it at him in some infantile display of temper. Demand he answer her. But she held back.

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment like you did the first year you were here? I tolerated it then, and even a few years ago when you got mad about your mama, but I certainly won't take it now.” He advanced, dangerous intent sizzling in his expression.

Before he could completely crowd her against the wall, she squared her shoulders, summoned self-will and shoved the paper between them. He stopped. Glanced at it, then to her, his face shuttered.

“Where did you get that?”

“Does it matter?” she managed to squeeze out from beneath stiff lips.

“Sure it does.” Faster than the pop of bacon in a pan, he snatched it from her fingers and opened the page. He looked at it briefly before returning it to his shirt pocket. His eyes found hers. The intensity of them disturbed her. “Did you read this before or after our kiss?”

She shook her head.

“Before or after?” he repeated.

“After.”

“Good.” He started to turn away.

“Good?” she said needlessly.

“Yep.”

She reached for his shoulder but he kept going. Desperate with rage, she darted in front of him. The door waited behind her.

“How dare you,” she said.

“Me?” He had the audacity to look surprised. “It's not against the law to apply for new employment.”

“We rely on you. And this letter references your inquiry over two months ago.” Suddenly words filled her mouth and she did not dare let them dry up like the desert outside, unsaid, unplanted. “Plans needed to be made, then. How much time do we have now? Have you any clue how long it takes to start a business? The money involved? The time and effort and ingenuity?”

His brows lowered. “I never planned for you to not be taken care of, Mary. And you bought Trevor's house, so I didn't see the problem in selling the ranch. I'm happy to give you whatever money you need.”

“Yes, I'm sure you are. So that you may gallivant off to wherever you're going. Asia, correct? And what will you do there?” Her hand flung through the air, narrowly missing his chin. He stepped back, a bewildered expression on his face. She didn't care. “You must realize what sort of position you have put us in. It was unthinking and...and unfair.” Her voice caught.

Oh, no, she was going to cry. Swallowing hard, she fought the angry tears.

“Mary, everything is going to be okay. You don't have to worry.” He moved as if to hug her, but she put out a hand to stop him.

“I am not worried. I am angry. Very, very angry.”

Shaking and not sure how much longer she could hold her inopportune tears, she turned and fled.

* * *

Lou's wound pulsed with pain. He pressed on the scarred area with his palm. With his other hand he shoved the letter farther into his pocket, wincing when the front door slammed shut.

Leaving that letter in his pocket hadn't been the smartest thing, but at least today's telegram hadn't fallen out. For a second he'd thought Mary was going to hit him.

Sweet, docile Mary.

Lately the woman acted as though something had been set on fire behind her. Anger and defiance marked everything she said. A natural occurrence as she grew more comfortable expressing herself, but still, it was uncomfortable for him.

Unbidden, the memory of her arms around him crept past his defenses. He blinked, willing the sensation away.

“James,” he shouted.

No answer. Shrugging, he gathered up the shaving supplies and stomped out of the sitting room. The hallway gleamed in the darkening evening, thanks to Mary's cleaning skills. She kept up the house better than most.

Shining floors, delicious dinners. She'd make some man a fine wife. His mouth soured at the thought. He put the shaving supplies away, then called for James again.

Still no sound. Had the old man gone home? He lived in a little house down a ways on the property, near the bunkhouse where hands stayed when they'd been doing more ranching. Not anymore.

With the way people were clearing out in this county, the town of Burns might be lucky to survive. Logging seemed to be going well, however, especially with the railroads spreading across the country.

Mary should thank him for pushing her out of the nest, so to speak.

Yet, as he opened the front door and stepped into the approaching dusk, twinges of conscience pinged him. He closed the door and then clomped to the stairs. In the distance, two silhouettes stood against the horizon.

The shadows turned and he noticed the skirts. Mary and her mother? Another problem he wished he could solve for her. If Mary knew her mother had been the one who'd told Mendez where she lived twelve years ago, the one who'd made the kidnapping possible, then she wouldn't let Rose live here. He debated telling Mary about her mother's part but decided against it. What good could come of exposing such a thing? Only more hurt for Mary. Best to just keep an eye on Rose and make sure she didn't put Mary in harm's way.

He went down the porch steps.

Maybe the ladies had seen James. Besides, he needed a reason to look Mary in the eyes again, to reassure himself that her feelings weren't hurt by his dismissal of the kiss.

After all, he had plans. So did she. There was no room for fickle emotions. Heart thumping, he strode toward Mary and her mother. They began running to him. As they neared, his stomach plunged at the expression on their faces.

“What's wrong?” he asked quickly, noting the glazed appearance of Rose's eyes.

“It's Josie.” Mary's features were drawn. “She's missing.”

Chapter Fourteen

“M
issing?” A dumbfounded expression slacked Lou's handsome features.

“Yes,” Mary snapped. “Mother and I are going to mount up and look for her near the ranch house. She has a fondness for the cows.”

“James and I will track her,” he asserted, seeming to snap out of his daze.

“He is already looking for her footprints, though darkness will soon make that impossible. Please search the house.” She refused to let her voice tremble. Time for that later. “Let's go, Mother.”

“Wait.” He stopped her with a palm to her shoulder. The intimacy of the touch only served to remind her of what had transpired during his shave. “You and I'll search the property. We know it better. Rose can search inside the house.”

“A good plan,” she reluctantly admitted, forcing her mind to the present, forcing her lips to stop remembering his kiss.

Lou's hand moved off her shoulder. He gave Rose a stern look. “I'll know if something goes missing.”

Mary gasped. “That's a hateful thing to say.”

“I am not offended.” Rose nodded to him and set off to his house, her shoulders slumped despite her quick pace.

Angry and afraid, Mary whirled away from Lou and ran for the stables. His even breaths behind her told her he kept up easily. Feeling bitter and not liking the words in her heart, she ignored him and kept going.

“You know your mother can't be trusted,” he said.

Her chest burned. She bit her lip as a stitch formed in her side. Forced to slow down, she refused to look at the man beside her. The employer who'd been hiding his secrets for two months. What else did he hide? “What does it matter to you? You are leaving, and I choose to keep my mother by my side.”

“Regardless of what you may think, I do care for you. Mary—”

“Josie is missing.” She whirled. “Until we find her, this conversation can wait.”

“That's how it's going to be? Ignoring important things?”

Pulse racing, she glared at him. “Yes. Josie is more important than anything else right now.”

A serious look crossed his face. “You're right, but don't think we won't talk.” He strode ahead of her and reached the stables first.

Inside, the air was musky and warm. A few horses nickered at their approach. Harnesses jingled and hooves rustled against the straw-strewn floor. She didn't particularly like being in a stable with its overarching odors of hay, manure and mildew, preferring the outdoor air instead, but she'd been in here enough to know which horses she rode the best.

She found a spotted pinto she'd ridden in the past and led her out of the stall. After tying her up, she went to the tack room for her saddle, a smaller version of Lou's.

“Let me help you.” His breath tickled her ear and did nothing to stop the nervous queasiness taking hold of her. Before she could pull the saddle down, he'd reached over and lifted it off its hook.

She followed him back to the pinto, hand pressed against her stomach. The sun's rays were already weak and disappearing. A few more minutes and then darkness. Where was Josie? Mary shuddered. Many dangers existed in the desert. How could a little girl protect herself?

Maybe she wasn't alone, though.

That possibility frightened her even more. She watched Lou saddling her horse, thankful for his calm thoroughness when her hands were shaking so badly. “Do you think...” She trailed off, stomach twisting.

“Think what?” Lou tightened the stirrups and faced her. Deepening light shadowed his face into planes and angles.

“Maybe someone took her. I—I thought someone might be following me this afternoon.”

“And you're just now telling me?” His mouth arced downward.

“If that man has her...I need a weapon.” She'd left her derringer at home. No more. From now on she'd carry it everywhere.

He studied her silently, then turned and disappeared into the tack room. He emerged moments later, a small sheath-covered knife nestled in his palm. “Take this. Use it if you need to.... In the eyes is where you should aim first, if possible.” He paused. “You should have told me about being followed.”

She slipped the blade from his hand, thumb smoothing over its fine ivory hilt. “There is a chance it was only imagination.”

“Always tell me everything. I'll keep you safe.” Sincerity rang in his voice. His eyes shone with it.

Swallowing back the boulder-size lump in her throat, Mary mounted the pinto. “That is a fine thing to say, Lou Riley, but the truth of the matter is that in months you will be gone and then I shall be in charge of protecting myself.” She secured the knife in the pocket of her skirt and urged the horse around until she faced the entrance.

A gentle nudge and she soared past Lou and into the deepening twilight, where shadows canvassed the surroundings. Feeling desperate and a little angry, Mary headed toward the east section of the property.

How dare he say that he'd protect her? Fill her with hope and promises when he planned to leave. And to talk that way of her mother... She growled. It felt good, that primal vocal expression reverberating around her. Thankfully, the pinto didn't seem to notice.

Once they were a good ways from the stables, Mary slowed the horse and began scanning the shrubs and dips in the land. She wanted to call for Josie, but if the girl had been abducted, that might alert someone. On the other hand, if Josie was lost, she'd be frightened, and the sound of someone calling would be soothing.

Biting her cheek, she slid off the pinto and walked carefully, heart thudding in her chest.
Please, God, let us find her
.

If only she'd told Lou about the strange sensation of being followed sooner, but the truth was that she'd forgotten. Being near him, cutting his hair, shaving him, that breath-stealing kiss...and now someone might have their sweet little girl.

She fingered the blade and continued searching.

* * *

Lou grumbled as he readied his horse and then cantered to the west, worry over Josie riding his shoulders. He hated that Mary was right. Within a few months he might be gone, sent to Asia on special assignment. Possibly never to return. The thought of that foreign, exotic land of spice and music usually excited him, but at the moment, in the darkening night, searching for a lost little girl, he could only imagine a life without Mary to return to.

Her presence was ingrained in this place.

He slid off the saddle and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Josie!”

Insects and a stiff breeze answered. The unyielding line of mountains fuzzed on the horizon, shimmering with the setting sun.

“Josie,” he yelled again.

If she had been kidnapped, his yell might rustle up the kidnappers into making a mistake, maybe some noise. Though, if they were on horses, which was likely, then they were probably long gone. His gut clenched at the thought.

Had someone actually followed Mary? She wasn't one to imagine things like that. Neither hysterical nor prone to fits. Jaw tightening, he strained to see the shrubs around him, looking for odd shapes or movement. His horse jingled beside him.

“Josie, answer if you can hear me.” Feeling grim, he trudged ahead. His shoulders bent against the chilly breeze. Now that the sun was down, temperatures dropped quickly in the desert. Josie might be shivering somewhere, alone.

Memories rushed in on him and he bent over, gasping for breath. He wouldn't think of it, not now. Not when he had a different little girl to try to save. Straightening, he gulped deep breaths until he could breathe easier.

Then he continued walking, calling, searching the moonlit horizon. A few times the scurry of a small animal startled him into thinking he'd found the girl, only to watch the form materialize into something not human.

No giving up,
he told himself. Hadn't he survived a war and deaths? Perilous conditions that took the best of men? Ears pricked, he stopped and listened for any unnatural sounds.

The slightest wisp of something carried on the wind. Holding his breath, he smoothed his horse's neck as he listened.

There it was again. To the left. Leading the stallion around, Lou went in that direction and continued to call the girl. As he neared, the sound sharpened into staccato sniffles. A relief so profound it nearly buckled his knees rushed through him. Gripping the reins, he hurried to a shrub that looked irregular beneath the moon's iridescent glow.

“Josie.” His feet swished through the grasses until he reached the child, who sat hunched over, head buried in her drawn-up knees.

The overwhelming urge to scoop her up and hold her near his heart almost did him in, but he refrained, choosing instead to kneel in front of her.

“We've been looking for you.”

She didn't look up. In the silvery light from the moon, he could see her hair matted in places. Her cries cut into the night, unnatural and heartbreaking.

Clearing his throat, Lou tried again. “Josie, honey, it's time to go back. Miss Mary is real worried. She, Rose and Mr. James have been looking all over for you.”

The girl mumbled something, then started sobbing as if her best friend had died. Should he just reach out and grab her? Pick her up and carry her?

Throat constricting, he put out a hand to pat her head. She scooted back, out of his reach, faster than he could blink.

Frustration welled up. Frowning, he sat back on his haunches. “Listen. You either come with me now or I'm going to leave you out here. It's getting cold. I bet you're hungry. Is that what you want? To be stuck out in the desert all night long...?”

He cringed as his words trailed off, hollow echoes broken by Josie's quieting cries. He could almost see Mary's disapproving look at his tactics.

He gentled his voice. “Come home, honey. We've got cookies and—”

“You're just trying to get rid of me.” The pouty words made his lips twitch. Better than her sobs.

“So you ran away, huh?”

The look she gave him was far too old for a five-year-old, and angry, angrier than he'd anticipated.

“I'm not going back. Ever.” She promptly stuck her forehead against her knees again.

Sighing, Lou moved closer. This time when he put his hand on her head, she didn't try to escape. “Your mama misses you. We went over this before.”

“Why can't you bring her here, where we'll be safe?” An earnest expression crossed Josie's face.

“Safe from what?” Lou peered at her, instinct rearing. He was missing something. Something important.

Her voice dropped. “You know.”

“Josie, you've gotta answer me on this.” He turned her shoulders to face him, marveling at how small she was, how tiny. How much would he have given to see his Abby grow up. She'd be thirteen now. His breathing snagged. Almost a woman.

“What, Mister Lou?”

He focused on Josie's eyes, that rare purple the color of a mountain violet. “Who dropped you in the desert? Who left you there?”

Her face scrunched, dirt tear trails zigzagging down her cheeks. “I don't know. Mommy gave me tea and a kiss. Then I woke up all by myself....” She looked away. “I was all alone, and I was so thirsty. I was cold.” Her face wrinkled up even more and hurriedly Lou rubbed the top of her head.

“Okay, sweetheart, okay.” Someone wanted her dead. But who? Why? He'd get to the bottom of it somehow. “Let's go home.”

He got to his feet, then bent and picked her up. She was light and didn't resist as he feared she would. Instead, he felt her cheek against his shoulder, her arms around his neck.

“I'm hungry, Mister Lou.”

“That's what happens when you run away.” But he patted her back to soften the words.

He walked carefully toward the stallion, who stood patiently for him. Holding her close, he took the reins and started in the direction of the ranch. They'd ride in a bit. The girl was tired, her body boneless in his arms.

“I talked to God,” she said suddenly, her voice a mere whisper.

“You did?” His own voice cracked a bit.

“I asked Him to send someone and He did.”

“Oh...well, that's good.” Nice to know God answered some prayers.

“Do you talk to God ever?” She yawned against his neck.

“Once in a while.”

“Miss Mary says He likes it. That He gets lonely and is always waiting to listen. She told me He'd help when I was in trouble. She was telling the truth, right, Mister Lou?”

Funny how a sleepy kid could jabber so much. Might be time to stick her on the horse. He lifted her away from his body and set her in the saddle. “Hold on,” he said gruffly.

He mounted behind her, then situated her to be comfortable for the ride back, and safe.

“Was Miss Mary telling the truth?” Her voice drifted upward from where she lounged against him. “Does God hear me?”

Good question. One he couldn't answer honestly.

“Mister Lou. Does God hear us?”

“Uh—”

“Was Miss Mary telling the truth?”

He wished he knew. “Go to sleep, honey.”

“But does God hear me?”

“I found you, didn't I?” he said, hoping that would do. Mary filled this child's head with nonsense, the kind of truths he used to hinge his faith on, but he knew better now.

Yet tonight...on all these acres of land, he'd found Josie. Scared but unharmed. What did that mean? And if God cared enough to save her not once, but twice, then where had He been when Lou's family was dying? Why hadn't He saved them?

Heart weighted with questions and arms heavy with a snoring bundle of warmth, he headed home.