Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (83 page)

His grasp filled her with warmth. He pressed her arm firmly to his side, effectively encasing her in his cologne and security. They matched steps. Down the stairs. Through the lobby. Into another area that served as the restaurant.

She felt eyes on her, the way they followed and perused, but the tingly apprehension she so often suffered failed to materialize. Hardly daring to breathe, let alone talk, she allowed Lou to lead her to a table.

Dinner passed in an odd mixture of unexplained excitement and lingering sadness over Josie's absence. She'd gotten used to the girl's energy and uncontained words. And yet the candlelight on the table, the sound of violins and clinking forks led her back to a reality in which her employer sat across from her, handsome, alive and very, very interested.

At least it felt that way.

Self-conscious, she smoothed her dress, watching as his eyes traced her movements. Heat crept through her. “Thank you for the meal, Lou.”

“It's nice to see you enjoying yourself.”

“Good food is worth celebrating,” she returned, feeling a tug at the corners of her mouth.

“Indeed. I agree.” He lifted his glass. “And so is good company.”

Feeling flushed, she nodded. They finished their food and before she knew it, they were ready to leave. His eyes sparkled beneath the glow of the chandeliers.

“Care for an evening stroll?”

Why not? She might never visit this place again, and would she even see him after this? She pulled her shawl more snugly around her shoulders and smiled at him. “I'd love one.”

They meandered out of the hotel, away from the perfumes and into a different type of atmosphere. She clutched her shawl closer as a chilly breeze brushed by. She glanced at Lou. He looked completely relaxed, the planes of his face smooth. He'd gotten a shave somewhere, and the shadowed line of his jaw was strong beneath the street lamps. He walked as though he knew this place well.

Which, of course, he must, having the bureau's field office here.

“It's odd being alone together, don't you think?” she asked.

He gave her a funny look. “Not odd to me. It's...nice,” he finished. “Do you miss Harney County?”

“This place is so different, so many people. But what I miss more is my kitchen. My hands itch to bake.”

“Really? A literal itching?”

She smiled at him, lifting her hands. “Do you not see the rash?”

He peered at them.

She giggled and dropped her hands. “I'm teasing you, Lou.”

“Oh.” Then he cracked a smile that split through her defenses. “Mary the jokester. I like it. And what did you think of your meal tonight? You know, your cooking is tastier.” At her doubtful look, he held up a hand. “No, really. I've been around the world, Mary O'Roarke, and your meals rival any fine-dining experience.”

What did a girl say to that? They kept walking, and then Lou cleared his throat. Never a good sign. “I don't know how else to say this, but tonight I was brought a telegram. We've got an offer on the ranch.”

Chapter Seventeen

“D
id you hear me?” Lou paused beneath a streetlamp.

Mary nodded, though her heart felt as though it had lodged painfully in her sternum.

“Well, say something,” he said, his tone strained.

But she couldn't speak. The words remained bottled inside, not yet fully formed. What could she say? It was his ranch. She'd been blessed to stay there. She blinked to ward off any unwelcome tears.

“I wish you'd say something. Tell me how you feel.” He swiped a hand through his hair. It hung in lopsided angles, tangled by his regret. “This wasn't how I planned things to happen. The sale was expected to take months. Then, if you didn't want to stay on with the new owners, you'd have time to get a new job and place. Independence is within your grasp.”

She swallowed hard. “I
should
want such a thing.”

“What?”

“Independence. I am thirty years old. Unmarried. I should want to have my own home, shouldn't I?” What was wrong with her that she didn't? No, she wanted things to continue as they had. Peaceful. Secure.

Lou looked away. “Everyone wants different things, Mary. I'm sorry for uprooting you, but it needs to be done.”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “Why? For what reasons must you sell?”

He looked at her then and his eyes pierced her. “It's never been my home. Ever. It's been a place to sleep and a place to eat. That's it.”

His answer cut her to the core. “Never? All those times we ate and laughed?” There'd been many times she sewed by the fire while he shared an adventure he'd just been on. It had been cozy. Familial, even. “You never felt...home?”

He sighed heavily. “Home is not something I expect to ever feel again. That's just the way of it, and I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

“Perhaps I do not own the ranch and am nothing more than an employee, one you've conveniently cast aside for new employment, but I have feelings. You don't want to talk about it, but the longer I stand here, the angrier I get.” There, she'd told him. There had been a knot of anger growing in her belly, maybe ever since she'd found that letter after his kiss. “And furthermore, how dare you kiss me knowing you have no intention of returning?”

Yes, anger was coursing through her now, heating her blood and pouring rash words into her mouth.

“Now, Mary, hold on a minute. That kiss was completely unexpected.”

“Was it?” she challenged, and was surprised to see a furrow appear at the ridge of his brow.

“I just needed to...”

“To what?” The wind picked up, whipping hair around his face. The lamplight surrounded him and she felt as though she must be standing in darkness. Could he see her anger? How he'd hurt her with his indifference?

Shivering, she glared at him.

He nudged his coat from his shoulders and draped it over her before sighing deeply, heavily. “I don't know, Mary, and I'm sorry for that. I got carried away with emotion and it wasn't the right thing to do.”

His apology irked her, though wasn't it what she wanted? The scent of his jacket surrounded her, filled her senses and warmed her.

“Someday,” he continued, “a fine man in town will take to courting you. All this will be in the past.”

“Do you mean forgettable? The way you've conveniently forgotten Josie? You handed her off like a package to be delivered.” Her voice broke.

“Don't bring her into this. She doesn't belong to you or me.” Lou's voice lifted, causing passersby to glance their way. “And our kiss wasn't forgettable. If you don't understand my meaning, I can show you right now.”

To her surprise he moved nearer, out of the circle of light and into the shadows between them. Energy sizzled through the air, tension emanated from his body, and a quiver unrelated to cold shuddered through her.

“I think not,” she said coolly, and moved opposite him so that she now stood closer to the lamppost. Her pulse hammered. “I have had enough of your kisses to last a lifetime.”

“You didn't complain about them before,” he said tightly.

Confident, carefree Lou was gone. Where he went, she didn't know, but before her stood the real man. Edgy. Determined. And for some odd reason, angry. All because she'd brought up Josie. Again she thought of secrets. He possessed them, and in abundance.

She nodded at him slowly. “You are a practiced kisser. It was a fine experience.”

“A fine experience,” he mimicked, then let out a bark of laughter empty of joy.

“It was also disruptive,” she said gently. She must tread softly, for mentioning God in the past had often upset him. “Kissing did nothing but stir up a mess for both of us.” In truth, she hadn't stopped remembering that kiss and doubted she ever would.

“Perhaps it was something that needed stirring.” His confident voice conflicted with the turmoil she saw in his eyes.

Unsettled, she shook her head. “That is unlikely. Romance is not what will make me happy, Lou. I don't need a man's kisses or even his love. God has given me so much—” She stopped because his brows lowered and, in the darkness, it almost seemed as though his eyes flashed.

“So no marriage in your future? You think you can live without baking for anyone ever again?”

“If I open a restaurant, I shall bake for many,” she inserted, trying to follow the train of his thoughts, why he'd jumped to marriage.

“And do you deny the way you felt caring for—for Josie?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Well, you need a husband to have a family.”

She whipped back as though he'd slapped her. “Perhaps I'd have someone to take care of if you'd looked into Josie's family a little more. You
know
something is wrong. Someone in that family is dangerous. Don't you care?” A surprising boldness took hold of her and she stepped right up to him, nose to chest due to her shortness, but it would have to do. He'd see her eyes and realize she wanted answers.

“Tell me, why do you avoid children? Why do you run from the ranch as often as you can?” A thought occurred to her as the realization of a pattern emerged. “And your stays at the ranch... You've always cut them short after we spent time together in the evenings. What are you afraid of?”

His glare deepened and he took her arms in his hands, pulling her closer than she'd ever been to him, save for that kiss.

“You don't know what you're saying, woman.”

“I know exactly what I'm saying. You're afraid—”

“No,” he hissed. His grip tightened. “That's enough. No more.”

“Then tell me,” she pleaded. When he tried to look away, she cupped his face and forced him to look down at her. “Help me understand why you dropped Josie with her mother like a hot ember in your hand. Does it hurt so much?”

She saw it now, the pain that tightened his mouth and crowded his eyes.

His throat moved, and then his head was resting in the crook of her neck. He groaned, and the sound caused hairs to stand on her skin. He let her go. She stumbled back, rubbing at her arms where his hands had clenched her.

“It doesn't hurt,” he said at last. His gaze lifted. She stifled her gasp at the rawness of his expression. “It burns. It's a searing ache that never leaves.”

Yes, she knew that kind of pain. “It can heal, if you let it.”

“How, with God?” That broken laugh of his echoed off the sidewalk. “Don't you see?
God
did this to me. He killed my wife and Abby.”

* * *

Lou shoved his hands through his hair again, wishing he could wipe away the pain as easily. Mary's eyes were shiny and he couldn't tell if tears glistened or if the lamplight played tricks. He wanted to say something, but his throat hurt with the strain of containing his emotions.

Groaning, he pivoted and started back for the hotel. She walked quietly beside him. Every so often a hint of her perfume teased him. He could feel the questions burning in her. She expected an explanation.
Who is Abby?
You were married?

As though his thoughts had been spoken, she said, “You do not have to explain anything to me, but if you ever feel the need to speak of this again, I will be here.”

“Thank you,” he managed to say. At least his vocal cords had shrugged off their temporary paralysis. He held the door to the hotel for her and she glided inside.

Near the stairs, she stopped. “Thank you for dinner.”

He inclined his head, glad the rush of pain had drained away. “You're welcome.”

“Are there specific plans for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, about that.” He tapped the railing of the stairs. “An agent will pick you up at your room at nine o'clock and escort you back to Burns.”

“I see.”

“Don't give me that look, Mary.”

“What look?” But the obstinate disapproval on her face didn't change. Or was it hurt?

He couldn't tell, and the gut-spilling earlier had exhausted him. “Just be ready. Your breakfast and room will be taken care of.”

Her gaze lifted and she searched his face. “Will I ever see you again?”

“Sure. I've got to come back and handle this sale. I want to see you and James safely settled and—”

Her lips made a funny movement, as though she was holding back a smile.

“What?” he asked.

“I was just remembering how Miss Alma chased him out of the store. If she has her way, I believe James shall be quite all right.” Her smile lit up her face and unexpectedly, Lou felt the strangest wish that Mary would chase him into the road, too.

He shook his head. Focus. She wasn't in the plans. Not even close. “James doesn't know what hit him,” he said lightly. “I don't think he's ever settled down with a woman, and she seems pretty determined to snag him.”

He grunted. This conversation opened old wounds and he didn't plan to let it continue. “Like I was saying, I've got to get things settled. I'll be back.”

She bit her lip, studying him intently. Then her gaze skittered away.

He touched her arm. “Until next time, then?”

“Yes,” she said, backing away. The dress she wore glittered with her movements, and the attraction he tried to hold at bay surged again.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Goodbye,” she answered.

And then she was gone, moving through the late-night guests, up the stairs and disappearing around the corner. Sighing, he settled at the side of the wall and waited.

He had work to do. All this internal caterwauling over the past, Josie, that kiss... It made a man's head spin. He remembered Trevor getting all worked up over Gracie. They'd lived at the ranch as a married couple before traipsing off to California for fun, and Trevor seemed happier than Lou had ever seen him. Now that they'd been married a bit, Trevor seemed better.

Marriage wasn't for Lou, though. No way, no how.

He scanned the guests, looking for one in particular. Mary might accuse him of not caring, but it wasn't the truth. No matter his past, he didn't stand by and watch children get hurt. Women, either. Josie's mama might be dying and frail, but some low-down, evil one had handled her roughly. He'd seen the faint purple smudges on her wrists when she'd hugged Josie.

It only took a call to find out Mrs. Silver was a widow, but she had a brother who happened to have been busy traveling recently. Who happened to be staying in this very hotel tonight. And his last name happened to be Langdon. It was pretty obvious this fellow was the same guy who'd been lurking in Burns.

Why the man hadn't stayed with his sister, he didn't know, but he aimed to find out. So he waited, checking his watch every few minutes. The brother had been described as tall, brown-haired, strange blue eyes that bordered on purple. He matched the description of the man who'd come to the ranch.

And the man who'd recently been accused of murder in Burns.

He needed to know what this man did for a living, but above all, he needed to make sure Josie and Mary were safe from him.

“Sir?” A young man addressed him from his right.

“Yes?”

“I'm Special Agent Smith.”

Smith
. The name clicked. “You'll be escorting Miss O'Roarke tomorrow?”

“Reporting in. We'll be leaving at nine o'clock and our expected arrival time is—”

“Have you ever done this before, Agent Smith?” Lou cut him off. He looked far too young to be protecting Mary.

“I served in the war effort.” Agent Smith gave him a level look. “Appearances can be deceiving. I'm well equipped to take care of your lady.”

“She's not my lady,” he said by rote, breaking their visual standoff to scan the lobby again.

“I beg your pardon, sir, but I saw you at dinner.”

He cocked a brow, meeting Smith's look square on, hiding his surprise. “And what did you see?”

The agent shrugged. “It wasn't business, that's all.”

Lou grimaced. No, their dinner hadn't been. This one might do after all. He hadn't noticed him once, and that ability to blend would aid in keeping Mary safe, should the need arise. Lou gave him a curt nod. “Very well. Telephone headquarters when she's safely home.”

“Will do.” A quick nod and Smith left.

Lou pulled out a stick of Wrigley's and continued his surveillance. Chewing thoughtfully, he crossed his ankles and waited several more hours. Langdon never showed up.

Or he'd missed him, just as he'd missed Agent Smith at dinner.

Heading upstairs to bed, tiredness riding his back, the realization that he'd lost his mark plagued him. He was too caught up in emotions. Could only see Mary.

His attention had been on her—not a good thing, but he didn't know how to stop it. And then she'd had the nerve to bring up God.

He turned the corner and entered the corridor.
God.