Love Inspired Historical June 2014 Bundle: Lone Star Heiress\The Lawman's Oklahoma Sweetheart\The Gentleman's Bride Search\Family on the Range (86 page)

“Why you...you overbearing oaf.” An unbelievable heat swept through her body and pooled in her belly. Her hands clenched. She ignored his raised eyebrows and sputtered, “F-fine, then. If you choose to be this way. Then. I. Quit.”

His hands slid off his hips. She took advantage of his slack jaw to skirt around him, hustling to the telephone as fast as she could and hoping he didn't beat her to it.

This was the moment her life would change forever.

Chapter Twenty

M
ary couldn't quit.

Lou was tempted to follow her, but her last words had punched a hole in his steady breathing. He opted to keep his distance and reassess the situation when she returned. Moments passed, filled with the sounds of conversation around him, clinking silverware, the aromas of food, and then she turned from the counter.

Her head was tilted down. Shoulders slumped. He frowned. Thoughts ricocheted through him, knotting his gut. He tapped his knuckles against the table.

The indecision twisting through him was unexpected. He didn't like the feeling, but stopping it was another matter.

She'd actually had the audacity to quit.

That wasn't like her. Did she mean her words? The look on her face... He'd never seen it there before. He'd wanted her to be independent, to be okay so he could leave this place for good, but now that she'd flung her independence in his face, well, what could a man make of that?

He rapped the table again, thinking. Plans were going well. Exactly how he'd thought he wanted months ago when he'd set things in motion. Even with the unforeseen shooting. It hadn't changed his plans, but it had affected him personally. Somehow getting shot and being stuck at the ranch with Josie and Mary had changed him, but he wasn't sure how, and even if he figured it out, he was pretty certain he wouldn't like what he found.

His own father had been trapped at home raising two sons alone after his mother died. And his brother, Gracie's dad, was held beneath the sway of his wife. He'd even cut off contact with Lou for almost twenty years because his wife disapproved of Lou's career choices.

No, he'd seen what a man leashed by hearth and home became. When he was young, he hadn't worried too much on it, but losing Sarah and Abby had reinforced his instincts and for twelve years he'd been just fine, footloose and fancy-free.

Until now.

Mary's independence threatened his own. That much he was sure about. After so long looking out for her, did he really want her gone from his life?
No
. But being hog-tied to one place gave him the urge to draw his gun and target practice.

At least he might get to do that soon. This morning a junior agent had shared some fascinating intelligence. He and another agent had linked Lou's shooter to an international ring that was smuggling alcohol from Canada by way of Oregon ports. Given international waters were involved, the smuggling became a federal crime and he'd been given free rein to bring his shooter in. If he could just find a name...

Mary neared, cutting off his thoughts. A flush stained her cheekbones. He put his hands on his hips and battled the urge to apologize. And for what? Trying to protect her? It was an illogical, insensible reaction.

Scowling, he sat in his chair. She followed suit, sitting across from him and fiddling with her silverware again. Busy fingers meant nervousness. He eyed her, but she wouldn't meet his gaze.

“Your food, sir.” The waiter set their plates down.

“Thank you.” He ate, but the food was tasteless. Mary picked at her potatoes. “You might as well tell me what that call was about. I'm going to find out eventually.”

“I know. And that is what upsets me.” She lifted her eyes.

“So let the cat out of the bag.” He shrugged, though he felt anything but nonchalant. After all this time, it was as though she didn't trust him. The thought rubbed him wrong.

“I've been offered a deal of sorts. Employment in exchange for something.” Her eyes dropped.

Lou's throat clenched and for the second time that day, a red haze crept into his vision. Fingers curling into fists, he took deep, even breaths. When he thought he could speak without yelling, or worse, scaring her, he said, “What's the exchange?”

She shook her head. “It's between us. Regardless, I'm in need of employment, and though I'd like to open my own shop someday, I think this will work better for now. It is a good thing for me to quit now rather than later. My future is secure, and you need not worry about me or my mother.”

He scoffed, if only to let out the tension tightening every muscle in his body. “I'm not worried about her.”

Mary frowned. “Despite how you feel, my mother will be in my life. I suppose it's also good you plan to leave.”

Fighting words. He should be alarmed, but they eased his tension a little. Whatever plan she'd agreed to couldn't be permanent or she wouldn't be talking about keeping her ma in her life.

“A good thing, huh?” He flashed a little teeth and leaned forward.

“Don't try to charm me, Lou Riley. Your distaste for my mother is upsetting.” She pushed her dish to the side. “I wish you would try to see her side of things. Forgive her, even.”

“Sorry, but I have a hard time forgiving anyone who hurt you the way she did. That's just the fact of the matter.”

“I see.”

“I don't think you do.”

She glanced to the right, where a clock perched against the wall. “It is time for me to leave.”

Panic knotted the base of his neck. He had to fix things, and quick. “Look, I'm sorry for bossing you around earlier. What say you stay and give me the lowdown on the situation? Maybe I can help with this trade you're doing?” He kept his smile in place.

She shook her head. “I'm the only one who can fulfill the terms of the agreement.”

“That so?” he drawled. His chest burned with the effort of staying calm.

“I'll be back to the house in a year or so. We shall meet again, I'm sure. Are you okay? You look...red.”

He felt it. Drawing a heavy breath, he said, “This agreement isn't illicit, is it? Tell me it's not, Mary. Tell me you haven't sold yourself to protect that little girl.”

She gasped. Then her face darkened as she shot up from her seat. “How could you think such a thing?” Her mouth worked.

He stood, too, but she was already reaching for her luggage. She rushed past him, leaving the restaurant in a flurry of movement. He groaned and tossed money on the table to cover the food. He'd really bungled this.

Maybe she wasn't planning a liaison, but he'd seen Langdon look at her. He'd seen her paleness. Didn't take a genius to put two and two together. She might not plan to give in to Langdon's advances, but Lou had met his type before.

If someone didn't step in, Langdon would try to force himself on Mary, and she would never be the same.

Lou spun on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant. Yes, he had a shooter to catch and a ranch to sell and a new employment opportunity, but Mary meant more to him than material things. And so did Josie.

This so-called deal put them in danger, and he would do whatever it took to stop it.

* * *

The nerve of that man!

Mary strode the streets, brushing past people as she worked to clear the steam from her head. How could he think such a thing of her? Did he really believe she'd ever put herself in that position? Perhaps this plan could use some finessing and it might require a bit of dodging, but she hoped for the optimum.

To raise Josie as her own.

A breeze rustled up against her and waltzed with her skirt. She should have brought a sweater of some sort. Oregon's personality was moody, and chill bumps rose on her arms in reaction to the cool wind.

Or maybe it was the thought of having a family. Though her heart ached for Josie, knowing the child's mother might pass soon, Mr. Langdon had assured her that there were no living relatives, no one to claim Josie. Without him, she would be put into an orphanage. Mary couldn't abide such a thought. Perhaps her own childhood had been unstable. Constantly moving, a father who was in and out of her life physically, a mother who was emotionally in and out, but there'd been many times of love. There'd been food and clean clothes.

She'd seen orphanages, but worse, she'd heard tales of them. Many of the prostitutes her mother worked with came from these places. Many had been more girl than woman.

A shudder swept through her.

No. Mr. Langdon and the orphanages wouldn't get her sweet girl. His plans for Josie were vile enough to let her know that when Josie's mother died, the girl would be in harm's way. Mr. Langdon's wicked plan
had
to be an answer to prayer. God could use evil and turn it to good. Perhaps that was His plan for her.

She stopped at the corner and waited for the coming streetcar. She wrapped her arms firmly around her ribs. A year or less. If she could make it through that, then both she and Josie would be okay.

She'd agreed to show up in the morning for the job, which meant she should find somewhere to sleep this evening.

“Mary!”

She whirled to see Lou sprinting toward her. His broad frame filled her with a restless longing, an unfair yearning. She closed her eyes, pressing them to block out his image.

He reached her, his breaths short and shallow. Perhaps his scar still ached.

“You shouldn't be running,” she said, opening her eyes.

“I'm fine. Look—” he swiped a hand through his hair “—I really am sorry. I've got no business telling you what to do. The past few weeks have been crazy for me. Getting shot, seeing Josie, which brings back all sorts of memories... Let's just say I'm trying to make things right and I feel like I'm failing.” The words sounded strained as he said them.

A streetcar rumbled to a stop in front of them. She stepped onto it, and Lou followed. They held the railings as it picked up speed. What could she answer him? Seconds turned into minutes. He let her think, for which she was grateful.

Finally, she turned to him. He still wore that pained, uncomfortable expression. It pulled at the creases of his eyes and made him quite attractive. Stifling a smile, she said softly, “I suppose you're not used to apologies.”

His lips tilted. “I'm used to being in charge. Giving orders and having people obey.”

“Perhaps there was a time for that in my life, but being by myself so much at the ranch has taught me to make my own way.” She hesitated, then reached out and touched one of his hands. His skin was tanned and scarred, rough beneath her fingers. “Your desire to protect me is noble, but I must be free to make my own choices. To control someone is not loving.”

His throat worked. His eyes were such a clear blue, penetrating and serious. “The last thing I want is to hurt you or treat you less than what you deserve. I'm going to try to trust your judgment, but I need you to trust me, too.”

“When it comes to my life, I reserve trust for myself.”

“What about God?” he countered.

The jab stung a bit. “Perhaps my trust in Him is not perfect, but I'm working on it.”

“I guess that's the most anyone can do.” The streetcar jolted to a stop. They shifted closer to allow a woman laden with bags to squeeze past. Lou's cologne and minty scent enveloped Mary. She was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her hair.

As soon as the woman passed, she shifted away, ignoring every impulse to stay near him. The car started up again.

“So...truce?” Lou asked.

She faced him, taking in his sober look. “I suppose so.”

“Great. Let me help you, then. What's the plan? What can I do? I have resources you can only dream of.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

She reciprocated, thankful the tension between them had ebbed. “For now I must find a hotel to stay at. Tomorrow I will begin my new job.”

“Your ma know yet?”

“I'll send a telegram once I'm settled.”

“You don't think she'll worry?”

Mary quirked a brow. “Do you?”

“A little.” He rubbed at the light stubble at his chin. “Truth is, she's a hard one to pin down, but I can usually see when someone is up to no good. She's about spent all her no-goodness, I think.”

“I'm not sure whether you just complimented her or if that was an insult.”

“Call it the truth.” He winked at her, then his face went stiff. His eyes narrowed. “Don't move,” he said softly.

“What?” She turned to look where his gaze had fastened, but he was already shifting, putting his body between hers and whatever he saw. She swallowed. Holding still this way made her more aware of the rapid pump of her pulse and the dryness of her mouth.

“There's a hotel at the next corner. Small but nice. You mind staying there?” He swung her a quick glance, questioning.

“No, no, that's fine.” She swallowed hard. “Is everything okay?”

He hesitated.

Suddenly the need to know overwhelmed her. The need for him to share with her more than the curious oddities or the amazing inventions he'd seen on his travels. She wanted to share in his struggles and perhaps even his adventures. An unfamiliar prickle crawled across her skin.

“Please tell me,” she said quietly.

He looked around and then bent his head forward, blocking her view of everything but him. “The man behind me sought me out to parlay information right before I was shot. I believe he followed me onto this streetcar, or maybe it's just chance, but I've got to talk to him.”

“But first you need to see me settled?”

“Yes.” His eyes searched hers.

“That's not necessary. I can do it myself.”

He was already shaking his head. “No. Not in this city, not at night.”

The streetcar shuddered to another stop.

“Really, I'll be fine. Surely a reputable hotel like you've suggested will be a safe place.”

“Maybe so, but it's a risk I'm not willing to take.”

And there it was again, that urge to wrap herself in his arms and to never let go. The feeling struck her with such force that she couldn't speak, could only lose herself in the intensity of the moment.

Movement grabbed her attention. Bowler Hat disappeared out the door. She pointed.

Lou blinked, spun around. He grabbed her wrist. “Will you come with me? It's dark, dangerous... I'll try to keep you safe, but you'll need to trust me.”