Renee Ryan (14 page)

“I can.” There was no hesitation in the man, only confident self-assurance.

“We do this right,” Hunter continued, “on the front end. I want no surprises down the road. Not in a week, or a year, or ten.”

“You’ve come to the right man, Mr. Mitchell. I’m always thorough,” Bennett assured him. “However, my services aren’t cheap.”

“How much are we talking?”

The lawyer quoted the cost of his services, an amount Hunter was comfortable paying. “That’ll be fine.”

“All right, then. Let’s get down to business.” Bennett pulled out a sheet of paper from a side drawer. After making several notations, he looked up at Hunter. “I will need a copy of your marriage license to the child’s mother, as well as the girl’s birth certificate.”

“I don’t have either.” Hunter’s heart squeezed with unease. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Probably not.” The lawyer made several more notes on the page. Without looking up, he said almost absently, “The originals should be on file at the county clerk’s office.”

“Good.
Good.
” A relieved breath slipped from Hunter’s lungs. “There are two additional matters I will need you to address, as well.”

Bennett lowered his pen and waited expectantly.

“No matter what my daughter’s birth certificate says, I want her legal name to be Sarah Annabeth Mitchell.”

Hunter probably should have consulted Annabeth on the matter first. But after taking time to think this through, he had no qualms making this particular decision on his own.

“Consider it done.” Picking up his pen, the lawyer made the necessary notation on the paper. “What else?”

“I want you to draw up my Last Will and Testament.” Hunter pulled out the piece of paper he’d tucked behind the Bible in his jacket and handed it to the lawyer. “I want you to include these specifics.”

The lawyer took the paper, read quickly, then looked up again. “Are you certain of this?”

“Yes.” Hunter rose.

Bennett followed suit.

“How long will it take for you to complete my requests?”

“I’d like to meet again in a week.”

“A week? That soon?”

“None of what you want is overly complicated, Mr. Mitchell. Assuming, of course, that I can locate your marriage license and the child’s birth certificate.”

Hunter left the law offices with a light heart and a lighter step. The rain was still coming down hard. Uncaring, he stepped onto the sidewalk and turned in the direction of Charity House.

He needed to see Annabeth, needed to tell her all that he’d accomplished here today. She would be pleased for Sarah’s sake. Hunter liked that about the woman, liked how she put her niece’s happiness above her own.

In truth, he liked a lot of things about Annabeth Silks, especially the fact that she would be leaving town with him and Sarah soon. By the grace of God, they’d make their unusual arrangement work.

Unless a certain foul-tempered madam had her way.

Hunter still had to convince Mattie he could be trusted with her beloved daughter. Determined to do this right, every step of the way, he changed directions.

When he arrived at the brothel again, he discovered that the cantankerous woman was still unavailable to him.

Enough of her games.

“When
will
she see me?” he asked Jack through clenched teeth, determined to remain until he had his answer.

“Miss Silks would be more than happy to receive you at five o’clock this afternoon.”

Hunter gave a crisp nod.

“That’s five o’clock, sharp. If you’re a minute late—”

“Don’t worry,” Hunter interrupted. “I know how the woman works.”

Back on the street, the rain was still coming down in a steady rhythm. Unlike the last time he was on this street he felt no danger lurking in the shadows. He felt only peace, as if the rain was washing away his transgressions as surely as the dirt off the planked sidewalk.

Another few steps and he rethought his plan to head directly to Charity House. School was probably in session by now, anyway. He might as well shave and put on a clean set of clothes before venturing out again.

A block from his hotel, he caught sight of his reflection in a passing window and stopped cold. His watery image was smiling like a fool. Except, Hunter didn’t look like a fool. He looked...

Happy.

He
felt
happy.

The Lord’s blessings kept raining down on him as surely as the water poured out of the sky.

Chapter Fourteen

A
s soon as the last student left the schoolroom for the day, Annabeth let out a slow, grateful whoosh of air. The whole lot of them had a bad case of spring fever. She’d seen it before, had experienced the sensation herself when she was their age. But until she’d been put in charge of ten boys and girls between the ages of nine and sixteen, she hadn’t realized how challenging children could be when they joined forces.

Not that she’d been in any better shape herself. Her mind had spent far too much time on Hunter Mitchell, making her just as restless as her students.

Why couldn’t she get their kisses out of her head? Kisses that, according to the man himself, wouldn’t be repeated.

Sighing, Annabeth smoothed her skirt then began tidying up her classroom. She worked her way along the aisles one at a time, picking up discarded papers, books, two hair ribbons and—oh, joy—a dried up lizard tail.

She’d worry about that last item later.
Much later.

By the time she made a pass down the last aisle, her arms were full.

Suddenly, a shadow fell across her feet, stopping her progress cold. She knew who’d arrived without having to turn around. Still, there was a brief moment of shock when she connected her gaze with the broad-shouldered man in her doorway.

Propped against the doorjamb, with a small satchel sitting at his feet, Hunter looked casually self-assured in his usual black from head to toe. As he stood there, watching her, he looked softer somehow, less tense.

She soaked up the sight of him.

He gave her a long once-over in return.

Mesmerized, she tried to remain cool and unaffected under his bold scrutiny. Nearly impossible when the lump in her throat was as big as a baseball, and her heart pounded out a rapid staccato against her ribs.

Why did the man affect her so?

She knew why.
Of course
she knew why.

It was in the way he carried himself: calm, steady, full of confidence mixed with a hint of stoicism. The loneliness in him called to her, too.

“So.” A low, wry chuckle tumbled out of him. “We’re back to the staring.”

Despite her nerves, she laughed with him. “Apparently, it’s what we do in each other’s company.”

“So it would seem.”

Smiling—and, oh, what a smile—he pushed away from the door and paced toward her.

Every bit of moisture dried up in her throat. She couldn’t seem to move. Why couldn’t she move?

He took the bundle of collected contraband in her arms and set the booty on the desk beside her.

She
still
couldn’t move. Not one, single inch.

Crowding her now, he turned his head so that they were face-to-face, their lips inches apart. For a long, tense moment, he said nothing.

Neither did she.

Was he going to kiss her? This tough, beautiful, wounded man who needed her more than he would ever let on.

A little flutter took flight in her stomach. She brushed the sensation aside and waited with anticipation.

Frowning, Hunter took a very deliberate step back.

She tried not to sigh.

“The color of that dress brings out the blue in your eyes,” he said, his smile returning. “I approve.”

He took another step back, his eyes dancing with amusement, and something more. Something long-lasting, permanent.

Why did she have to care for this man? Especially when he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t plan to marry again?

Best to keep that fact in mind, at all times. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine afternoon?”

She spoke in a nice, calm, rational voice. Oh, look at her. So cool, so in control, a woman who knew her own mind. It was quite the act. Mattie would be proud of her performance.

“Would you believe I came to see you?” he asked.

To be so fortunate. Knowing better, she raised an ironic brow. “You came to see me, only me?”

“And Sarah.” He gave her a sheepish dip of his head. “I came to see my daughter, too.”

Now
that
Annabeth believed.

“You just missed her,” she said. “She headed back to the main house with Molly and the other children a few minutes ago.”

“Ah.”

He looked so disappointed she couldn’t help but take pity on him. “Give me a moment to tidy up here and I’ll walk over there with you.”

“If you let me help we’ll get done in half the time.”

“All right.”

Together, they made quick work of setting the room back to rights. Oddly attuned to one another, they moved in flawless harmony, as if they could read each other’s next move.

Annabeth told herself it didn’t matter that they worked so well together. But it did matter. Their effortless camaraderie made her think of God’s perfect timing. And happily-ever-after.

Glory.

There was no use denying the truth any longer. Annabeth wanted the fairy tale, and she wanted it with Hunter.

* * *

Once they were outside and heading over to the main house, Hunter stepped around Annabeth and pulled her to a stop.

The jolt of awareness that shot through his arm had him pressing his lips into a grim line and forgetting why he’d halted her progress in the first place. He shook his head impatiently, trying to organize his thoughts.

No easy feat.

Annabeth was right here, staring up at him, waiting expectantly for him to say something.

He shut his eyes a moment. But the image of her remained. Her lovely, oval face, the gentle, bowed lips, and blue-blue eyes. And that silky dark hair, pinned oh-so-primly on the top of her head.

He opened his eyes, and tried to stay in the moment, not think of the future, of forever. He was waging a losing battle with himself, especially after their interaction in the schoolroom a moment before. They’d been so easy with one another, perfectly synchronized, even with the tension they both pretended wasn’t there between them.

They were also staring again.

He swallowed.

She did the same.

She looked so proper in her schoolmarm garb he wanted to ruffle her, just a bit, if only to see how far he could push her.

Did they have an audience?

He glanced over his shoulder and realized that they were standing in a small alcove between the two houses. Had he stopped her here on purpose, unconsciously wanting a private moment alone with her?

Seemed he still had a bit of the outlaw in him. He probably always would. Sobering thought.

“Why aren’t the children running around outside?” he asked, realizing the utter quiet didn’t fit the image he had of Charity House in his head.

“Afternoon chores first, then play.”

He let the information settle, calculating the minutes that had already passed since he’d arrived at the schoolhouse. “How long do afternoon chores take?”

“About an hour.”

Plenty of time for a kiss. And that was exactly where his thoughts should
not
be heading.

“Hunter.” Annabeth whispered his name in that throaty way of hers, encouraging him to tap into the outlaw he’d once been. She sighed against him. And then...

They were kissing again.

The sound of birds chirping in a nearby tree brought him to his senses.

This was wrong. All wrong. If they were caught by one of the children, Annabeth’s reputation would be ruined beyond repair. Her good name was the one thing she could control. He wouldn’t take that from her for his own selfish gain.

Abruptly, he let her go.

A shaken breath escaped her. Or was that him?

He felt a mixture of emotion, guilt at the top of the list, followed closely by a need to clarify his intentions.

“Annabeth...” He was talking to her back.

“Annabeth, wait.”

She stopped several strides later, but didn’t turn around. Standing in the open now, she tilted her head toward the sky.

He gentled his voice to a whisper. “Annabeth.”

Slowly, she pivoted around to face him.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” She held up her palm. “Please, don’t apologize.”

“But I shouldn’t have—”

“Not another word.” She gave him a vicious shake of her head. “I mean it. Not a single word of apology out of you.”

He fought back a wave of frustration, wondering if she knew how appealing she was when she got that stern schoolmarm look on her face.

Doing his best to keep from doing something stupid, like unraveling that ridiculous bun of hers, or kissing her again, or indulging in any number of other inappropriate acts, he joined her in the sunlight.

“I want to give you something before we head inside.”

He should have done so back at the schoolroom, but he’d been a little dazzled under the power of her very-female presence. No, he’d been a lot dazzled. It was like a sickness in him, a slow, pleasant, sweet way to die.

Later, when he was alone, he’d analyze why she was different. Why
he
was different when he was around her.

Giving himself a mental shake, he reached into his bag and pulled out the gift he’d wrapped himself.

Her eyes widened. “You...” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “You bought me a present?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his expression bland, but her pleased reaction took him by the heart and squeezed.

“It’s nothing special.” He thrust the package toward her. “I saw it in the store and thought of you.”

“You thought of me?” Her hand went to her throat. “Truly?”

Apparently, she didn’t receive a lot of presents. A happy discovery, Hunter decided. He wanted to be the only man to buy Annabeth gifts, now and in the future.

Again, he was thinking of her in all the wrong terms. She wasn’t for him. She was his daughter’s aunt. Not. For. Him. This gift was a simple gesture of friendship, nothing more.

Hands shaking, she accepted the package and ran a finger over the lopsided red bow. “It’s very pretty.”

He chuckled. “The gift is actually
inside
the box.”

She laughed. “I know. I just...” She trailed off and glanced at the bag in his hand.

He lifted it in the air. “I also bought a doll for Sarah.”

Her gaze swept up to his. That look she gave him. It did something to him, something good and lasting and full of hope.

“You bought Sarah a doll?” She sounded puzzled.

And, now, so was he. “You said she likes dolls,” he reminded her. He suddenly felt tongue-tied. “That’s what you said, right?”

“I... Well, yes. Of course she likes dolls. She loves them, actually, almost as much as bonnets. I just hadn’t thought you would go out and buy her one.”

“And yet, I did.”

“And yet—” her fingers tangled in the ribbon of her own gift “—you did.”

Uncomfortable under the wonder in her voice, he pointed to the package. “Are you going to open that anytime soon?”

“Oh. Yes.” She attempted a smile. “I... Of course.”

Hunter could see she was trying to appear light, casual. But as she tackled the task of untying the ribbon her blue eyes were full of confusion and seriousness and tempered joy.

Warmth coiled in his stomach. And then came the dread. What if she didn’t understand the gesture?

What if she didn’t...remember?

After removing the ribbon, she took her time studying the package, perhaps deciding how best to unwrap the plain white paper. Wanting to get this agony over with,
now,
he resisted the urge to hurry her along.

How could one tiny woman affect him so? Feeling oddly self-conscious, he looked to his right, and then to his left, straight up.

Her gasp had him lowering his head.

“Oh, Hunter.” Her voice tripped across his name.

The ribbon slipped out of her fingers and fluttered to the ground. The white paper followed. Then the box. All that was left in her hand was the silver-handled hairbrush, the design intricate and delicate, so feminine he’d been afraid to touch it when he’d first seen it in the store.

Annabeth didn’t have such qualms. Eyes glistening, she pressed the brush tightly to her heart. “You remembered.”

“I...” How could he respond in a way that wouldn’t reveal his very soul? He hadn’t even realized he’d thought of her all these years until now. “Yes. I remembered.”

The day he’d met her came back to him in a blast. He and Maria had taken Annabeth with them on a walk through town. Maria had wanted something new, something shiny and expensive. Flush with cash from a win at the poker tables, Hunter had told both women to pick out anything they wanted.

When they’d entered the store, Maria had gone to the jewelry case to make her choice. Annabeth had been more tentative, her shyness touching Hunter in a way he hadn’t expected. She’d walked over to a display case of silver-handled hairbrushes, her gaze full of girlish admiration.

He’d followed her, wondering what had caught her eye. The hairbrushes had been pretty, and certainly an appropriate choice, but Maria had scoffed at her little sister. She’d told Annabeth to think bigger.

Shoulders slumped, Annabeth had immediately stepped away from the display case. But Hunter had seen the wistfulness in her eyes. He’d told her he would buy the brush for her, anyway.

She’d shook her head. “It’s too expensive.”

No, it had been reasonably priced. Maria had embarrassed her. That was why she’d refused his gift back then.

Now, Annabeth had a completely different expression on her face. A look full of wonder. “Thank you, Hunter.”

“You’re welcome.”

She clutched the hairbrush tighter. “I’ll treasure it always.”

The sight of her happiness left him speechless. He stood watching her, stricken with some combination of joy and sorrow, wonder and caution.

And now he knew. He knew he would never be immune to this woman. He wasn’t sure what that meant for their future, but he couldn’t think about that now. Now, he needed to step back, away from this beautiful, heartrending woman.

He needed to remember his duty was to take care of her, to protect her, even if that meant protecting her from himself.

Under the circumstances, he did what any self-respecting, yellow-bellied coward would do in a similar situation. He changed the subject. “I met with a lawyer today.”