Susan Amarillas (21 page)

Rebecca was nodding, her sensuous mouth drawn down in determined concentration. He knew that look, had seen it often enough. The anger he’d shrugged off circled near the edges of his mind. Abruptly he straightened, not willing to give it credence. “Okay, let’s get going.” He cleared his throat and tossed the ball lightly a couple of times. “The championship of the backyard is about to be decided.”

Andrew returned to his place against the fence. He paced back and forth, his small face drawn in a frown that made Luke chuckle.

Ruth turned to Rebecca. “Now, I don’t want to pressure you—” amusement danced in her eyes “—but the honor of women everywhere is at stake here, so if you don’t hit the ball, we’ll never hear the end of it.” She shook her head in mock despair.

A grinning Mrs. Wheeler nodded in agreement.

“Fine.” Rebecca hefted the stick to her shoulder. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Come on, Luke!” Andrew shouted through cupped hands. “Mama can’t hit!”

“Really?” He smirked. “Glad to hear it.”

“Hit it, Mrs. Tinsdale,” the housekeeper called encouragingly.

Rebecca braced her feet in the soft grass. She focused on Luke, saw him pull back and release the ball. It whizzed past her head faster than a crazed hummingbird.

“Hey,” she muttered, her gaze darting to Jack, who’d caught the ball and tossed it back to Luke. “Try that again, mister.” Her competitive spirit rose to the surface. She wasn’t about to let him win.

Again the leather sphere sailed past. She swung and missed. The action took some of the wind out of her and made a lock of hair come loose from her comb and bob up and down over her left eye. She blew it back.

“Strike two,” Ruth said, apologetically.

“One more and we got ‘em!” Andrew called jubilantly from his place near the back fence.

Rebecca didn’t understand the rules exactly, but she knew one more wasn’t good, so when she saw Luke prepare to throw, she braced her feet and...

“Swing!” Ruth yelled, obviously forgetting her impartiality.

Rebecca swung with all her might. The stick and the ball collided hard enough to make her teeth rattle. The ball flew past Luke’s head and dropped inside the fence, about twenty feet from where a startled Andrew was racing to retrieve it.

“Run!” Ruth and Mrs. Wheeler shouted simultaneously. “Run and touch the sacks with your foot!”

Dazed, Rebecca hitched her skirt up above her knees and took off as if she were being chased by hornets.

“Get the ball,” Luke called to Andrew.

“Keep going!” Ruth hollered, jumping up and down as if she had wagon springs on the soles of her shoes. “Run faster!”

Andrew scooped up the ball and threw it, but it fell far short of its destination, so he had to rush forward and repeat the process.

“Throw the ball, Andrew!” Luke shouted, laughing, as he ran toward home base.

Rebecca touched the second sack, then the third, and saw Mrs. Wheeler waving her on to the starting point.

Halfway to Ruth, she saw Luke step between her and the coveted home base.

“Here!” Luke shouted, arms held high, while he effectively blocked her path.

“Faster, Rebecca! Run!” Ruth shrieked, hopping up and down.

Rebecca put her head down and charged for home. A pain stitched her side. Her breath was short. She kept going, determined to win. She was moving so fast, she couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. Full force, she slammed into what felt like a brick wall. It was Luke’s chest.

Together, they went down. Luke cushioned her fall, and Rebecca sprawled full length on top of him. His legs tangled with her skirts. His arms wrapped around her waist. When she looked down, he was laughing, really laughing. Tears glistened in his eyes, he was laughing so hard, and soon so was she.

The group converged on the spot, yelling and shouting, but mostly laughing.

“She’s safe! We won!”

“She’s out! We won!”

Luke sobered, and with genuine concern said, “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” she replied, embarrassingly aware of their position, though no one else seemed the least concerned.

She squirmed to get up, but his grip around her waist tightened enough to give her a moment’s pause. Then, in one motion, he rolled them over and stood, pulling Rebecca up with him. The group surrounded Luke and Rebecca, everyone arguing about who was the winner.

Brushing himself off, Luke said, “It was a nice try, Becky, but you were out by a mile.”

“She was safe, Luke, and you know it,” Ruth countered.

“Absolutely!” affirmed Mrs. Wheeler.

“Positively not!” Jack, the stable boy, put in, then looked startled that he’d been so outspoken with his employer.

“Safe!” Luke groaned in a playful tone. “How could she be safe? Didn’t you see me catch that ball?” He was brushing dirt off his sleeve.

“Yeah,” Andrew chimed in, taking Luke’s side. “Didn’t you see?”

Ruth and Mrs. Wheeler both gave Luke rather smug looks that said the decision was made. Both women hugged Rebecca. “You were wonderful.”

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.

I
nstantly 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.