Seduction of Saber (Saving the Sinners of Preacher's Bend #3) (2 page)

Forgive and forget, remember?

Gill Hillard looked away, guilt ridden, before turning
once again to stare at his willful daughter. Her bright red hair was tied in a
ponytail by rubber band, running clothes on her person. Clothes that
accentuated his daughter’s many curves, and had him groaning inwardly to the
fact she’d grown into a very beautiful woman while he’d not been looking.

He had enough problems of his own. With two beautiful
women in his life, those problems had somehow escalated over the last ten
years. He sure as hell did not have the time to deal with any strange men
looking at his daughter in an inappropriate way while she was out running.
Strange men could get his daughter into trouble.

Even if Julia was twenty-eight-years old, and could make
her own mistakes, he wanted trouble to remain at least ten counties away from
his doorstep. She was still his baby girl. Now, according to the rest of this
town, she’d become a fragile china doll. And as such, it was his duty to be the
best father that he could be.

He’d failed her once. He wasn’t about to fail her
again.

Christ! He’d rather cut off his right arm than have his
daughter hate him for something that was simply the natural order of life.

“Why don’t you come home with me this morning? Run the
lane on the farm? There’s plenty of room to kick up your heels. The pond is
full. A bunch of new ducklings hatched down by the old willow tree. I even have…,”
he started.

But an icy glare cut him off at the knees. That and
his daughter’s balled fists set firmly on her hips.

“We have been over this a million times. I don’t need
to take my morning runs on the farm. The streets of Preacher’s Bend are
perfectly safe. There are no smelly cow pies to accidentally put my foot into.
No large potholes to trip over and break my neck.” A quick roll of her eyes made
to prove her point. “No one has ever been mugged here, as far as I know. And I
am quite certain that if anyone even tries to harm me—in any way, shape, or
form—Officer Wesley will hang them up by their family jewels before they dare get
ten feet from me.”

Debra Wesley was second in command at the local police
force, and if it was up to her, the woman wouldn’t let anyone get away with …Well,
explaining it simply as
anything
cut out all the loopholes. Gill could
attest to this fact. With bright red hair and a wild streak like no other, his
daughter had tested his wrath on plenty of occasions, and Officer Wesley’s
patience more.

She’d even dated his best friend, the notorious Jake
Giotti. Talk about giving a father a heart-attack—and nightmares.

But the past was the past. Jake was marrying Liddy—for
the second time. Their renewal of wedding vows was to take place right after
the rodeo. And though the Giottis had to wait for the rodeo, then it to clear
out, everyone in town knew Jake and Liddy were not wasting any time in getting
reacquainted with what brought them together in the first place. Though he and
Julia were more in the loop than any of the other gossip mongers in Preacher’s
Bend, having firsthand information of what really happened, and why, neither
was going to tell anyone unless threatened.

If it’d been his daughter marrying Jake…

Jesus! He’d not be able to control himself from
wanting to kill the man before any I-do’s could be said.

As he pulled his thoughts back, his daughter snapped
at him, “What other complaint do you have of me today?”

“I don’t complain,” he whined.

His daughter rolled her eyes.

“Okay. Maybe I do…a little. But a father has the right
to complain,” he determined, stepping over to the coffee table to take one of
her muffins from the tray without asking. They looked far too tempting to
ignore. They certainly smelled damn near close to Petty’s Sunday morning
recipe.

As his daughter watched him shove most of an apple
flavored muffin into his mouth, she waited.

Gill swallowed the muffin and smiled appreciatively at
the sustenance. “That was good. You should start a baking…”

He stopped, when gaining another icy glare.

“Okay! Okay!” He flared his nostrils in defeat. His
daughter was tapping her bare foot on the thickly-piled carpeting, rather
impatiently. He smiled at that, too, then shrugged his shoulders, as if it
mattered not at all he was getting her goat.

“Brittany asked me to check up on you. Make sure
things are going as they, um, should. I told her you’ll be fine, but you know
how my darling significant other can get. She won’t give up until she knows for
certain all is well. It must be the pregnancy hormones talking.”

“Cut the crap, Dad!” Her foot tapping stalled.

This time it was his turn to openly glare. “Crap?
Damnit, Julia! A father has a God-given right to worry.”

“Then don’t blame an extremely pregnant Brittany for
you being here, just to check up on me. Besides, there is nothing to worry
about. Everything is fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Her defiance
stance, if ever there was one, for all those times he simply spoke his mind. Sadly,
this was about once a week and compounding interest on an hourly basis.

He’d not been this overbearing and overprotective
during her teenage years.
Why now?
Surely he wasn’t feeling pity for her
now? Julia would never stand for anyone pitying her…
especially
now.

So what if she was a little different these days? So
what if it was a bit more than his daughter could handle? She was a big girl. She
was taking life one day at a time. It was all that could ever be asked of her.

“Maybe everything’s fine now, but what about next
week?” Gill arched his brow until it just about touched his hairline.

His daughter threw her hands into the air and turned
her back on him. “I’ll make you a deal, Pops. When next week comes, only then will
I give you a bit of fatherly slack and allow you to start worrying about me.
How’s that sound? Fair enough?”

“Next week? Julia, I won’t be here next week! I have
to leave for Ohio this afternoon.” His words were loud because she’d already
turned on her heels and was heading toward the kitchen, trying her best to
ignore him. He’d needed to shout to get her to pay any mind to him. “I will be
gone for eight full days. Will you be
fine
then?”

Eight days would be the longest he’d been away from her
ever since…

With her back to him and her feet moving forward she
muttered, “Oh! Yeah. I forgot. You’re buying a cow or something.”

She returned from the kitchen with a pair of running
shoes dangling from one hand.

“A bull,” he corrected. “And I can’t leave town until
I know for certain you can protect yourself against four hundred, slightly
desperate men heading toward Preacher’s Bend. Looking, I might add, for more
than a good time. Staying a full eight seconds on the back of a bucking bronco
might not be all they’re after once they set foot here. I don’t want what is
looking to be a very long trip ending with my coming back to heap full of
trouble standing at the back door.”

“A heap full of trouble, Gill? Good grief! I’m
twenty-eight-years old. I can certainly look after myself. I’ve not gotten into
a
heap full of trouble
in ten years.”

Oh, yeah? There was that one year slipped in that had
taken a few years off the duration of his life. Surely she hadn’t forgotten
about that? His daughter had a slight thing for men with tattoos. But so did
Liddy. Christ! The two women, best friends since Kindergarten, shared the same
fetish, the same ideals, and they’ve remained friends; even though, at times,
those ideals and men coincided. Gill had made certain any man who’d gotten
within ten feet of his daughter and ha a tattoo was run out of town.

Four hundred men about to converge on Preacher’s Bend
early next week might have him an early start on an ulcer, and worrying a bit
more than he should be, but Julia should be able to take care of herself. She’d
enough practice at it while under her mother’s
nurturing care
—tongue
in cheek. His ex-wife’s main goal had been about status, the money, and little
else during their daughter’s formative years. She sure as hell hadn’t cared
about him.

Gill remained standing inside the living room, caught
up in indecision, placing his hat in his other hand, again. “Can I at least expect
you to come home for dinner tomorrow night? Six o’clock sharp?”

Julia slipped on her running shoes. She tied the
laces. “As always, down to the seconds, not a minute more.”

“And you don’t need a thing while I’m gone?” He paused
in thought.

“Nope.” She stood, stretched her calf muscles, twisting
her frame first to the right then to the left. “Don’t need a thing while you’re
gone.”

Gill stared at her as she went through the paces of
warming up. He groaned. “Whatever happened to that little girl I used to know
in bright red pigtails, who hounded me at all hours of the day for a pony she
would never ride? What happened to that freckle-face kid who was too afraid of
things bigger than she?”

Julia stopped what she was doing. Her gaze turned
thoughtful and misty-eyed. “She’s still here, Dad, still afraid of anything
bigger than she. But she’s not hounding you for any more ponies. She has a
boarding house to take care of for the summer, four grumpy old men to deal
with, and come fall, Preacher’s Bend’s finest to educate; whether they want to
be taught the basics of calculus or not.” She grimaced at the lack of ambition
of the younger generation and just how difficult it was to get any one of them
interested in anything other than cars, clothes, and loud music.

Gill straightened his shoulders, taking a moment to
consider the passage of time, hard knocks and all. God, he felt old.

When the hell had he gotten old?

“No. I guess she’s not here anymore.” He turned to go.
“But Goddamnit Julia Margaret Hillard! She is driving me absolutely crazy in my
old age. And for the record, all this gray hair on top my head is because of
you.” He ran his hand over most of it, thankful he still had hair.

His daughter escorted him to the door. “Maybe so. But
not all of it is my fault, you know. A good dose of a spoiled rotten brat named
Cody produced a few of those gray locks. And you said Brittany thinks the
distinguished look very sexy on a man. So quit complaining about the color of your
hair. If anyone has the right to bitch, it’s me.”

Gill widened his eyes, surprised. “I actually said
that to you?”

Julia placed her headphones around her neck, then
stood up on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his clean shaven cheek. “Isn’t that
what a really good daughter is supposed to do for her old man? Remind him of
his memory loss during his advanced years?”

“No. She’s not. She’s supposed to be giving her
somewhat forgetful father a whole bunch of grandkids, and pushing his
wheelchair around town when he’s too feeble to do it on his own.”

“But you’re making your own kids right now,” she
offered, winking at his startled gaze. “No wheelchair in sight. Besides, I
wouldn’t want to willfully spoil the fun you’re having with your wife by
hauling over a bunch of snot-nosed kids for you to take care of. And I am quite
sure that an ever-darling half-brother of mine would hate me even more, if I dared
try.”

“Among Cody’s many other reasons for hating me these
days,” she added.

“You let me worry about Cody’s attitude, and …um, any
of my
fun
being spoilt.” Gill cleared his throat, stating more once he
could compose himself of the fact she was talking about
his
sex-life and
not that of hers. “And you just worry about finding someone who needs you.”

In other words, a man to marry, babies to nurture, and
a home that did not involve grumpy old men who called themselves paying
customers; as well, someone to take of the duty of protecting his only daughter
whenever he could not.

She punched him hard on the shoulder. “Gee, Pops. With
four hundred hard-bodied, incredibly sweaty men coming to town, bright and
early next week, while you’re stuck in Ohio buying another bull, I should be able
to latch onto at least one suitable man, and faun all over him. If lucky, I
might even get into a heap full of trouble. Perhaps there might be two cute
guys I can sink my teeth into.”

She dared her smile to remain devilish while pulling
open the front door to push him out of the house.

“That is exactly what I am afraid of,” he conceded. Gill
groaned loudly while he stood on the front porch of his recently deceased
grandmother’s house, waiting until Julia locked the door with the old silver
key.

“What?”

He watched as she put the key into a pot of purple and
white petunias located next to Petty’s old rocker.

“While I’m gone you may find one actually considered
suitable—and I’ll not be around to kill the bastard.”

They shared a quick laugh over this.

If he actually followed through with this threat the
local cemetery would be full. Yet, genetically speaking, she wouldn’t have to
be dealing with what she was, if not for being his daughter. And that hurt him
the most.