Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (82 page)

If he could, he'd never take the girl back, but the threat of a lawsuit was a very real problem he couldn't ignore.

But why did Josie insist on staying with Mary and him? A nagging pressure in his chest distracted him. He rubbed his heart, watching as Mary scooped Josie close, cradling her. Much as he had when he carried Josie to the ranch on his horse.

Frowning, he rubbed harder, but the ache refused to lessen. More and more, Abby came to memory. Her chubby smile. The scent of her skin, soft as a foundling's feathers. How he'd felt when he watched Sarah hold her... Something pricked his eyes and he blinked hard.

Enough of this.

Setting his jaw, he strode forward and snatched up their luggage. “Let's go, ladies.”

He felt the fume in Mary's glare but chose to ignore it. Tension filled the space between them all the way to the neighborhood where Josie's mother resided. He glanced at the telegram in his hand, then flicked a look at Mary.

Her face was stone. Several people had given her curious looks. Some more disdainful than curious. Oregon's population was mostly Caucasian, and racial barriers rose high and impenetrable. The usual victims of the whites' prejudice were the Asian immigrants who worked in the lumber mills for next to nothing in pay.

But Mary, with her exotic features and dark eyes, qualified for being too different and thus drew attention. Lou knew the feeling, having visited China and being the only blue-eyed man in a sea of dark-eyed faces.

Their streetcar shuddered to a stop. People rose to exit and Lou looked over at Mary. “This is it.”

Eyes blank, she handed him the luggage and took Josie's hand. He was determined not to look at the little girl anymore, for her tear-stained face was starting to give him heartburn.

It seemed he couldn't win no matter what he wanted. Mary refused to show her emotions, and Josie was all feeling. Setting his jaw, he led them out of the streetcar, and as a resolute trio, they found the address listed on his telegram.

Josie's mother. Mrs. Lauren Silver. He unlatched the gate and ushered Mary and Josie ahead of him. The house loomed before them, tall and freshly painted. The fumes permeated the humid summer air. A set of steps led to an ornate door. Baskets and pots of flowers surrounded the porch, and their floral scents became more apparent as they neared the front door.

“I don't like this house,” Josie muttered, her little legs lifting high to manage the stairs.

“You live here a long time?” Lou inquired carefully. Everything inside roared for him to snatch the ladies and run. He couldn't do it, though. That was a sure ticket to jail, and then how would he protect them?

“Nope. I liked my other house better. It was by the ocean.”

Interesting. She'd recently moved and then somehow ended up in the desert where Rose had found her. While finding his shooter, he'd also figure out why someone had done that to Josie.

In fact, he might question the mother a bit. He rubbed at his chin, thinking.

Mary was first to the door. He saw her back rigid, her shoulders set as she stepped to the side to allow him to knock. Josie huddled next to her, forehead furrowed and fingers twisting in her skirt.

He cleared his throat, set the luggage down and rapped on the door.

It swung open, revealing an ancient-looking man whose shock of white hair hung precariously over a furry set of eyebrows. “May I help you?” he croaked.

“We're here to see Mrs. Silver. Very special delivery.” He winked at Josie, but the little girl didn't smile. He held his own smile in place, even though it felt broken. Could he do this to Josie? God knew, he didn't want to. God knew, if it was in his power, he'd keep Josie safe with Mary. But the situation was out of his hands. He could only do now what he'd been ordered to do, or risk more danger to the little girl by being completely cut out of her life if he resisted the law.

“Mrs. Silver isn't here.” The man sniffed, then peered at Josie. He lifted rheumatic eyes to Lou. “I see you brought the troublemaker. You can keep her.”

The door slammed in their faces.

Chapter Sixteen

“T
hat ol' Baggs.” Josie sniffed. “I never liked him.”

“Josie,” Mary gasped while fighting a smile. “That's not a nice thing to say.”

“It's his name,” Josie replied pertly, “and I always tell him he looks older than a bag of bones. He should trim his nose hairs.”

Mary's jaw dropped. Had no one taught the girl manners, or did she say whatever she felt, regardless of consequences? It must be pleasant to be so unencumbered by niceties.

“That's enough,” Lou said firmly. “We'll wait here until your mother returns.”

“Fine.” Josie trudged to a swing set in the far corner of the porch. Looking glum and very pouty, the she sat and rocked, using her toes to push herself.

Poor darling. Mary sighed deeply and tried to ignore the pressure at the base of her skull that could quickly turn into a headache. What a stressful situation, only to be compounded by a mother who obviously didn't care about seeing her daughter. “Where do you think Mrs. Silver is?” she asked Lou, careful to keep her voice low.

He shrugged. “I sent a telegram saying we'd arrive today, but there wasn't a time given. Could be she's at the doctor's or something.”

“Maybe we should ask...Mr. Baggs...if he knows her whereabouts. Surely he could direct us to her.”

Lou's brow rose. “Could try that, I suppose. If he answers.”

A low hum interrupted their conversation. They looked in Josie's direction. She'd gotten to her knees, facing outward to a mass of flowers that peeked over the porch rail. Her voice quivered as she sang. Her fingers gently stroked flower petals and sun spilled over her head, a dumped bucket of gold that washed her in light.

Mary's breath caught, suspended as a slow knot formed in her belly. She didn't want to leave this precious child here, alone with a sickly mother and odd circumstances. She glanced at Lou, prepared to beg, or to at least see what options they might have, but his gaze remained fastened on Josie. His eyes looked shadowed in the dimness of the porch, pained, even.

She traced the shape of his face with her glance, giving herself free rein to stare while he was so occupied. His strong nose and jaw, the wild hair she'd kept a tad too long yet remaining fashionable.

In this moment, she realized how dear he was to her. How safe and kind. Sure, now, he had frustrating qualities. Stubborn, flippant, never anchoring anywhere for long...yet somehow she'd become attached to him.

Uneasy, she forced herself to look away, to the road where a fancy, newer-model Ford chugged to a stop in front of the house. A man emerged from the passenger door, tipping his hat to them before moving to the rear door.

Lou moved beside Mary. She caught a whiff of Wrigley's and felt the warmth of his arm near hers. Focusing on the people in front of her, she watched as the man scooped a lady from the rear seat of the automobile.

The man carried the woman up the steps, his face young and unlined. Brown eyes met hers in passing, then traveled behind her, to where Josie still hummed on the swing. Lou rushed to the front door, opening it without knocking first.

The man nodded his thanks and disappeared inside.

“Come on.” Lou slid into the house.

He expected her to follow, but she hung back, startling when a hand slipped into hers. She looked down into Josie's wide eyes.

“I don't want to stay,” Josie whispered.

Mary tried to ask why but her throat was closing up. This was it. After weeks of caring for Josie, she must say goodbye. She could feel her heart cracking apart inside, sending pulsating waves of emotional pain through her body. Blinking quickly, she knelt to face the girl.

“Do you know how much I love you?” She smoothed a curl from Josie's eyes. “You are special and a joy. Never forget that.”

“But I don't want you to leave.” Her lip trembled and those beautiful eyes turned shiny.

“Friends are forever, sweet girl.” Mary pulled her into a hug, inhaling her scent, enveloping her in her arms and trying to memorize every moment to hold on to.

“You said God heard me. I told Him I wanted to stay with you and Mister Lou....” The girl's voice was as trembly as her lips.

“He heard you, honey.”

“Then why am I here? My mommy can go with us. I don't want to be here, never, ever. I never wanted to come back.”

That knot in Mary's stomach grew. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled back and looked Josie in the eye. “Mister Lou is going to make sure you're safe because your mommy needs you here with her. Do you still have that thimble?”

Josie nodded.

“Whenever you're lonely or scared, hold the thimble and remember that I'm always praying for you. And that God is looking out for you and loves you dearly.”

Josie sniffled and a lonely tear seeped from the corner of her eye. It rolled down her cheek unchecked. Mary swallowed hard, gave her one last hug and then, hands held, they went into the house.

* * *

Mary barely remembered the trip back to the hotel. Leaving Josie had been horrendous. The girl had sobbed, and Baggs had held her tightly when Lou and Mary exited the house. The sound had tormented Mary on the streetcar. She couldn't speak.

When Lou stopped at his office to drop off paperwork and make arrangements for who knew what, she sat on a bench outside. Clouds drifted over the sun, and before long it started raining, but she hadn't even noticed until Lou reappeared, picking up her luggage and leading her to a waiting streetcar.

They arrived at the Seward Hotel in the afternoon, dodging through the rain to the entrance. The massive building loomed before her. Elegant. Expensive.

Blinking back raindrops, she tried not to gape as she followed Lou inside.

She discovered the lobby was gapeworthy, however. A bell motif rounded the interior. Sparkling and clean, people of obvious wealth studded its landscape. Fur stoles, shining shoes... She huddled in a corner of the lobby while Lou checked them in, feeling out of place and wanting to disappear. A shiver coursed through her, and belatedly she realized her clothes were sopping wet.

What was Josie doing right now? Her mother was barely capable of speaking, she was so sick. She'd seemed kind, though, her eyes a paler shade of Josie's, her smile soft yet weak. Tuberculosis was what was killing her, she'd said, speaking past her face mask. A rare strain, the doctors told her. One they had trouble treating. It seemed the Great War, coupled with the disastrous influenza pandemic, had increased tuberculosis cases. Or perhaps made them worse.

Either way, what would happen to Josie when her mother passed away? Who would care for her? The worry nibbled at Mary incessantly. She clutched her luggage closer as another shiver vibrated through her.

Lou stalked toward her, his lips still and serious. “Ready to go up?”

She nodded and followed him to an elaborate staircase. Its surface shone and she wondered how long it had taken the staff to make it look that way. How often must they clean it? She gingerly stepped up.

Lou turned to her. “Let me help you with your bags.”

“I can handle them.”

“I want to help you. Please.” His voice was sober, so she relented. “Now, our rooms are side by side. We have a dinner to attend this evening and I've left you something in your room. A fellow agent picked it out, in case you don't have anything to wear.”

“I'm supposed to dress up?” She frowned.

Lou shrugged and slipped her a quick look. “You don't have to, but we'll be eating in the hotel's dining area. It's exquisite, I've heard. There's music, candles...” He trailed off and looked straight ahead.

“Why such a fancy dinner?” They reached the top of the stairs and Mary followed him to the right.

“It's been a hard day. A soothing dinner will be relaxing, don't you think?” He shot her a half smile that faded when he saw her face. “I thought you would like it.”

Mary shook her head. “Why? Why would you think that?” Her voice sounded high-pitched, even to her ears. “This is too much...too much noise, and people. A restaurant will be filled with those who stare.” She swallowed and made her voice calmer. “I can't help thinking of what Josie is doing right now, if she's still crying. What will happen when her mother dies? What if that man looking for her is really her father? Or some relative who wants to hurt her?”

Lou stopped in front of a door. His jaw was clenched. She saw a muscle work in his neck. “There's already an undercover agent that has been hired on in the house. He'll be there tomorrow. I'm doing the best I can, Mary. Leave it be.”

“I can't,” she insisted.

He turned slowly toward her, the key dangling from his finger. “It's out of our hands. Your mother found a little girl and didn't report it to the authorities. Josie's mama has been frantic with worry and was ready to take legal steps.” A sheen crept into his eyes before he blinked it away. “Take a nap, get ready for dinner, and tonight I'll outline how I plan to protect them.”

Hope fluttered for a moment, then spiraled to a crash. “I'm never going to see Josie again, am I?”

His gaze closed. He held out the key to her. She took it. He set her suitcase near the door. His hand came up, near her face, and she almost flinched. Some instincts couldn't be undone.

But he moved softly and the next thing she knew, his hand was cupping her chin. Warm. Gentle. His eyes were tender.

“If it were possible, I'd make sure Josie could stay with you forever.”

Her breath caught, suspended by the unfolding of rare and beautiful feelings inside. It was as though a thousand butterflies had taken flight within her rib cage, fluttering, no, pounding to be let out. This man who'd protected her, who looked at her with such
seeing...
Her pulse thrummed with strange and heady emotions.

Lips dry, she wet them with the tip of her tongue.

Lou blinked and the moment ended. His hand dropped to his side. “I'll meet you in the dining room at seven.” With that, he pivoted and left her alone at her door, the imprint of his touch still sizzling against her cheek.

It took her a moment to recover, but when she did, she let herself into her room. The spacious interior welcomed her with warmth. A package lay on the bed, but rather than opening it, she flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

So many feelings ricocheted through her that catching her breath, let alone resting, proved impossible. Thoughts of Josie intermingled with memories of The Kiss. Both tangled her nerves. After an hour of futile search for sleep, she sat up and opened her traveling case. Taking out her brush, she went to the private bath, washed her face and then combed her hair. The snarls made her wince, but she persisted until her locks fell in waves against her back.

She glanced at the package, a simple white box, which remained unopened.

“Oh, Lord, I don't know what to do,” she whispered. Life's even road had just become twisty and uneven. To find her footing required a wisdom she wasn't sure she possessed. Inhaling deeply, she went to the box and lifted the lid.

She gasped. With careful fingers, she lifted out a dress more lovely than she'd ever touched. She'd seen beautiful fabrics. French silks, velvets and chiffons. But this... The fabric fell through her fingers, a wispy garment the color of a desert sunset.

She nibbled her bottom lip and surveyed the tiny glass beads across the hem, the swirls of deep reds that dashed across the bodice.

She couldn't wear this.

She couldn't.

And yet the simple dress she'd traveled in hardly qualified for a refined dinner.

But this dress was audacious. Every head would turn. Stare. She shuddered and dropped the silky thing to the bed. Why would Lou do this to her?

He didn't pick it out,
she reminded herself. Taking steadying breaths, she paced the length of her room. A rose sachet sat upon the dresser, but she missed the scent of her sagebrush land. She glanced at the clock on the wall.

Six o'clock.

There was time to spend praying or reading the Bible. Perhaps the Proverbs. They'd always been her comfort in times of need or stress.

When she finished chapter one, she moved to chapter two and kept going until six-thirty. Feeling more calm and as though her fears were minuscule, she put her Bible to the side and changed into the dress.

How the agent knew her size, she'd never guess. She wasn't a tall woman, smaller than most, actually, but the dress fit perfectly. The seams stitched even and small at the hem. The narrow shoulder straps exposed more skin than Mary thought she'd ever shown in her life.

Thank goodness she'd brought her black shawl.

Now for her hair. She twisted and pinned and when a knock sounded at her door, she was ready.

She snagged her shawl and opened the door. Lou faced the opposite way, his head bent as though reading something. She closed the door behind her, hearing a subtle click.

Lou rotated toward her and his face went slack.

“What?” She touched the collar of the dress. “Did I wear the wrong thing?” She patted her hair, but everything felt tidy.

“You are...” He trailed off. Was his face turning splotchy? She stepped closer.

“Are you all right?” She'd never seen him look so...so flustered. At a loss for words. Despite the riotous emotions of the day, an overwhelming urge to laugh bubbled through her.

She covered her mouth as Lou's jaw worked but no sound emerged.

“Resplendent,” he finally said. He stuffed the paper he held into the breast pocket of his sleek jacket and advanced toward her. Yes, his face colored pinker than normal, but his charming grin was firmly in place.

The giggle bubbled out, perhaps exacerbated by nerves and exhaustion. His smile stretched to show a hint of teeth. “May I have your arm?”

“You may.” Nerves quivering, she offered it to him.