Renee Ryan (12 page)

Hand shaking, he smoothed his palm over his daughter’s silky hair. The magnitude of what he was getting himself into sank in with a vengeance. The weight of responsibility had never felt heavier. This young girl’s happiness was connected with his, and his with hers. Every decision he made would directly influence her life, and every hurt she suffered would cut him to the core.

The last time he’d taken on another person’s care had been his wife. Though he’d failed Jane, long before Cole had found her in that alley, and in many ways, he’d failed Maria, too.

He would not fail Sarah. By the grace of God, with prayer, hard work and the help of her aunt, Hunter would do right by his daughter. He wasn’t leaving today until Annabeth agreed to come with him and Sarah to the Flying M.

Seeking out the woman in question, he captured her gaze and made the silent promise to her, as well. A moment of complete understanding spread between them, as if she understood they were in this together.

He tightened his arms around his daughter. She continued to cling to him—and didn’t that say it all? Aware they had a very attentive audience with various levels of speculation being shot their way, Hunter tried to pry Sarah’s arms from around his waist.

She was having none of it.

Thankfully, Annabeth moved to stand beside them. Bless her beautiful, kindhearted soul she’d decided to rescue him.

“All right, girls, let’s everybody settle down.” When the chattering turned to a low hum, Annabeth carefully pulled Sarah free of Hunter’s embrace. “Sarah, why don’t you introduce your friends to Mr. Mitchell?”

“All right.” She darted to the girl at the head of the table. “This is my best friend, Molly Taylor Scott.”

Hunter nodded to the girl. “You’re Trey’s daughter.”

Holding her head high, her posture oh-so-proper, Molly allowed a tiny half smile to play across her lips. “I am, indeed.”

“I’m pleased to meet you.”

“And I, you.”

He remembered what Trey had said about his wayward daughter.
She was always a handful, one step away from open rebellion, but now she’s downright...difficult.

Hunter shrugged. The description didn’t match the charming girl smiling at him now. Had Trey exaggerated? Didn’t seem likely.

Sarah stepped to the next chair. “And this is Constance.”

“Constance.” Hunter nodded at the blonde girl. “A pleasure.”

Smiling broadly, Sarah continued around the table, repeating the process with each girl, naming them one by one. He tried to keep up. Natalie, Jocelyn, Mary, Prudence and, finally, Rachel, or maybe that last one was Rebecca. He’d lost track. Now his head was spinning a little.
A lot.

He didn’t have a prayer of remembering all the names. Nevertheless, he smiled at each girl as Sarah made her way through the introductions.

One of the girls, the youngest if her size was anything to go by, stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. “You know who
we
are. But who are
you?
”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The girl next to her jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow. “He’s the one Sarah’s been telling us about.”

“Oh.” The first girl still looked confused.

Hunter smiled at his daughter as she drew alongside him again. Understanding the magnitude of the moment, he slung his arm over her shoulders and said, “I’m Sarah’s father.”

The room erupted with squeals and voices tumbling over one another. Girls jumped out of their chairs in random succession, and rushed forward. Even Molly lost a portion of her earlier dignity.

Completely ignoring Hunter, they shoved and pushed and surrounded Sarah. A symphony of high-pitched voices threw questions at her in rapid-fire intensity. He’d seen bullets fly slower in a five-man gunfight.

“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” Annabeth said, speaking over the commotion.

Still watching his daughter, loving how happy she looked, he replied absently, “I learned from the master.”

“Some actress, I suppose.” Something in Annabeth’s tone drew his attention back to her. If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked as if it bothered her that he might have once been friends with an actress.

He laughed at that, really laughed. “I was referring to the one and only Mattie Silks.”

“Oh, of course.” Annabeth laughed with him then, the sound low and musical.

At the sound, something deep inside Hunter simply...let...go.

For the first time since leaving prison, he felt truly at peace, all because of the woman sharing this moment with him. The same woman who’d declared he was more than his past, who’d defended him in front of her own mother.

Annabeth Silks was a marvel.

He’d be a fool to let her get away.

Hunter was many things. A fool he was not.

Chapter Twelve

A
fter all the questions were asked—and answered—Sarah left with Molly in search of more material so she could make bonnets for her new cousins as gifts. At least, that’s what Annabeth thought she heard the girl say. Sarah had spoken so quickly Annabeth couldn’t be sure.

Her head was still spinning from the constant chatter of the past half hour.

Looking bemused, Hunter glanced around the now empty room, his gaze bouncing off various points of interest.

Alone at last, Annabeth wanted to tell him her decision. Not here, though, not in the dining room where anyone could walk in on them.

She took his hand. “Come with me.”

He smiled. “All right.”

She led him to Marc’s office but stopped on the threshold. “Oh, Marc. Laney. I forgot.”

Sunday afternoon was when they reviewed the list of supplies needed for the coming week.

Annabeth backpedaled. “Hunter and I can find somewhere else to talk.”

“No need to leave on our account.” From behind his desk, Marc ushered them into the room with a sweep of his hand. “We were just finishing up.”

Smiling, Laney looked at them over her shoulder, her gaze zeroing in on Hunter. “Well, now, the man of the hour. I understand you told several of the children that you’re Sarah’s father today.”

“I did.”

Laney’s smile gentled, her eyes full of affection. “It’s a rare occurrence, you know, to have a father show up and accept responsibility for his child.”

Hunter’s shoulders stiffened, as if prepared for a fight. “It’s not a hardship, claiming Sarah as my daughter.”

Something swelled in Annabeth’s throat at the raw emotion she heard in his voice. He really was a good man. The very best.

“Nevertheless—” Laney nodded at him in approval “—well done, Hunter.”

Looking oddly uncomfortable for a man who was usually so sure of himself, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I never want Sarah to question whether or not I want her in my life.”

“I’m glad.” Laney walked over to him and patted him on the cheek as she would one of the children who’d done something rather exceptional. “It’s an important step for you both.”

“Yes.”

Shifting at an angle so she could take in Annabeth and Hunter at the same time, Laney looked from one to the other, holding Annabeth’s gaze a bit longer than Hunter’s. “It’s clear you two still have some things to work out between you. Come along, Marc. Let’s give them a moment of privacy.”

Her husband was already rounding the corner of his desk. “Perfect timing, I could use a break from all those numbers.” He clapped Hunter on the back. “Good to see you.”

“You, too.”

Annabeth waited until Marc escorted Laney out of the room, and then got straight to the point. “I’ve made my decision.”

“I’m listening.” So cool, so calm, the man hid his emotions well. But Annabeth sensed the vulnerability in him, the nervousness.

She wanted to say yes.

“I will continue to be a part of Sarah’s everyday life.”
And yours.

“So you’re coming with us to the Flying M.”

Now. This was the moment when she put her future into this man’s hands, for better or worse. “Yes. I’ll take on whatever role you need of me.”

A small smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Interesting choice of words.”

Tricky, bad, dangerous, bad, bad man. A terrible influence on her. She nearly laughed. The surge of happiness bubbling up from her soul caught her off guard. She tried to beat it down, but she couldn’t.

For once in her life, Annabeth wanted to toss aside care and step out on faith. A frightening prospect, to be sure, but she’d learned long ago that faith with no effort was no faith at all. Sarah was worth taking this risk, she told herself.

So was Hunter, her heart whispered.

He was as fierce as a tiger, had the courage of lion, and was totally, irresistibly charming when he chose to be.

Like now...

There he stood, his gaze traveling across her face with an unspoken promise in his eyes.

“Your mother isn’t going to like your decision,” he pointed out.

“I’m my own woman.”

He reached to her, his hand landing on her arm. “She’ll do whatever necessary to stop you from leaving town with me.”

“She won’t succeed.”

He moved his hand to her face.

Annabeth leaned into his touch.

“You deserve a better life than the one I can give you.”

His softly uttered words, spoken in that raw tone, staggered her. This beautiful, brave man needed a woman to care for him, to accept him, to love him. She wanted to be that woman.

“I’m doing this for Sarah,” she insisted.

“It’s a good reason. The right one.”

His hand shook ever-so-slightly, then moved to the back of her neck. Slowly, tenderly, he lowered his head toward hers. And she knew. He was going to kiss her.

The inevitability of this moment had her lifting on her toes. She wanted this, wanted it very much.

She longed to be the one to close the distance between them, to prove to him she was as much in the moment as he appeared to be.

“Be sure, Annabeth.” His mouth stopped just short of connecting with hers. “Be very sure this is what you want to do.”

Was he referring to her decision to leave Charity House? Or this...kiss?

Caught in a whirlwind of emotion, tired of fighting her longing for this man, Annabeth closed her eyes, let go of the logical part of her brain and gave herself over to this new, wondrous feeling of abandon. A sensation that felt strong and lasting, like the first step toward forever.

She whispered his name.

A moment later, his mouth closed over hers. He knotted his other hand in a loose fist around her hair. She’d never thought a kiss could feel like this, exciting, a little frightening, as if Hunter was offering himself to her, asking her to heal him.

Annabeth slid her arms around his neck, trying to get closer.

And then...

He abruptly pulled away from her.

Grim determination flattened his lips. “I’ll speak with Mattie as soon as possible.” Sad, and maybe a little lost, he gave her a halfhearted smile. “We need to make it right with her before we leave town.”

It took a moment for his words to register. “You don’t have to do that. Mattie is my problem, not yours.”

“She’s
our
problem.”

“She’s my mother,” she said. “Not my keeper.”

“I won’t be the cause of a rift between you two.”

How...utterly...sweet.

Annabeth touched his face. He was so earnest, so sincere. Tears threatened, wiggling to the edges of her eyelashes. Did this man know how good he was, deep down, where it counted?

“You’re in for a battle.” She dragged her fingertips across his cheek, his jaw, back up to his temple. “Mattie can be bone-stubborn when she has an idea stuck in her head, especially when it comes to me.”

“Don’t I know it.” Covering her roaming hand with his, his voice dropped an entire octave, growing silky with amusement and something else. Something that drew her closer to him.

“Mattie’s unquestioning devotion to you is what I like most about her.”

Something tightened in Annabeth’s throat. Hunter liked Mattie. He genuinely liked her, despite the hard exterior she presented to the world, despite what she did for a living. “Don’t ever tell her you think that. You’ll only encourage her outrageous behavior.”

He gave a mock shudder.

They dropped their hands simultaneously, laughing, smiling, sharing the joke. But when their eyes met, the laughter died away.

“Annabeth.” He pulled her against him again.

“Hunter.”

“This is a bad idea,” he muttered.

“The very worst,” she agreed. And yet, she lifted on her toes and, this time, she pressed her lips to his.

In that moment, Annabeth accepted the truth about the situation,
about herself.
Hunter wasn’t a bad influence on her. She was a bad influence on him.

* * *

Hunter needed to step away. He needed to release Annabeth, this very instant.

He also needed...had to have...longed for...

Her.

She wrought emotions in him he’d thought buried, such soul-deep longing he could hardly take a breath. How had Annabeth become so important to him? When had she become such a part of him that he couldn’t imagine a day without her in it?

She was a good woman, the kind that could save a man from himself, which was why he should ask her to stay with him and Sarah, permanently,
before
she found someone else who appreciated her. Dangerous thinking on his part.

With considerable effort, he set Annabeth away from him. “I have to go.”

“You’re leaving? Now?” The narrowing of her eyes emphasized their pale color and the thickness of her black silky lashes. “When we just...you know...just...” She looked at him helplessly, as if she couldn’t find the proper word for what had happened between them.

“Kissed?” he supplied helpfully.

She flinched. “Do you have to be so blunt?”

Had he been blunt?

“Annabeth.” He ran his thumb along her jawline, wondering how he could have ever thought he would be able to remain neutral toward this woman. Dangerous, dangerous territory.

“I believe it’s important to be honest with one another, always, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I...” Her brows snapped down over her stunning eyes. “Well, yes, I agree completely.”

“Then I need to tell you something before we go any further.”

Eyes wary, she pressed her fingertips to her lips and waited for him to continue.

“No matter how much I have come to like and admire you, I could never give you what you need, or what you deserve.”

“Oh.” She dropped her hand to her side. “Because of your wife?”

Partly.

“I let her down, in the worst possible way.” He reached for her, needing to touch her, just this one last time, but pulled back before making contact. “I’m a risky prospect. I never want to hurt a woman like that again, especially if that woman is you.”

“Oh, Hunter.”

He didn’t want her pity.
Lord, anything but that.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes. No more kissing.” She actually sounded...disappointed. “But, I thought, we kind of, got it...you know, right.”

Yes, they had.

More than right, pretty close to perfect.

He ignored the swell of regret that spread through him.

“You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman.” He didn’t mention specifics, not her light blue, heavily lashed eyes, or her full mouth, strong chin, high cheekbones, her...

He cleared his throat.

“Any man would be blessed to have you as his wife. But that man won’t be me.”

Looking as if he’d slapped her, she went very still before affecting a bored expression. “One kiss, and you think I’m dreaming of marriage. My, my, don’t you have an ego.”

He deserved her sarcasm. But her words cut deeper than he would have expected. “If memory serves, it was actually two kisses.”

Her cheeks turned a becoming pink. “True. But I only initiated one of them.”

He could see the embarrassment she tried so hard to hide.

He could see the moment the emotion turned toward something darker, something more like shame.

His annoyance melted away and he allowed a touch of tenderness to soften his voice. “It was nicely done, by the way. Your kiss, I mean.”

She smiled, and a new tension shifted between them.
Dangerous, dangerous territory.

“It was a kiss, Annabeth. Remarkable as it was, you don’t have to be afraid I’ll expect more from you in the future.”

He didn’t move any closer to her, nor did he try to touch her, but with their gazes locked so firmly together, it felt as if they’d made a physical connection, anyway.

“You don’t have to expect the worst from me,” he promised in a low tone. “I will never hurt you.”

It was a promise he intended to keep, a promise that seemed to take her by surprise.

Her eyes turned glassy and her teeth clenched tightly together, so tightly he feared she might grind the back ones into powder. “No need to worry about me,” she said at last. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing so for years.”

Yes, she probably had, especially with a mother like Mattie. Even though she’d gone to school in Boston, she’d come home during the holidays and had lived in the brothel for short stays.

Annabeth’s mixed heritage made her a rare beauty. She could wear a potato sack and men would want her. There had to have been occasions when one of Mattie’s customers had seen her and tried to take what they saw.

For her daughter’s sake, why had Mattie never tried to earn money in a more respectable manner? Anger, strong and visceral, burned through Hunter. Annabeth deserved to be cherished, adored, revered by a good man without a sordid past.

“I want you to come live with me and Sarah. But I’ll say this again, and again, until you believe I’m sincere.” He held her gaze. “I only ask that you be Sarah’s aunt, nothing more.”

“I understand, Hunter. I do. No more kissing.”

“No more kissing,” he repeated, for his own benefit this time, not hers.

It was really too bad, all things considered. Annabeth had felt good in his arms, better than any woman he’d ever held. And that made him a disloyal fiend of the worst kind. Every day he was finding it harder to remember his dear wife’s face. Even in his dreams her image was becoming hard to discern, fading with each passing day, more a watery memory than substance.

The disturbing thought stole his breath, but not his resolve. He needed her to understand where he stood. “I promise to behave above reproach at all times while you are in my home.”

“You’re making a lot of promises this afternoon.”

Yes, he was. “I can’t raise Sarah on my own. I need your help.”

He heard her sharp intake of air, felt her shock and something else. Hope.

“I don’t say that to force your hand. I will let you go if you change your mind, now or in the future. And if a decent man offers you marriage, I won’t stand in your way.”