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He’d changed since she’d seen him last and none of the changes were for the worse. His lean, long-legged body had filled out with the muscles of a man used to physical labor. His skin was a little weathered, and his hair had darkened to a rich, sandy-blond, the tips burnished by the sun.
He was dressed in stark black from head to toe. And even without a pair of six-shooters strapped to his hips, he had the swagger of a gunslinger. His square jaw, defined features and the shadow of a beard made him look threatening.
A formidable foe under any circumstance.
Her rebel heart found that bit of insight beyond exciting. Not that she’d actually choose to pursue a relationship with a man like him, but she could certainly allow her mind to...wonder. Perhaps she had a little more of her mother in her than she cared to admit.
A hideous discovery that couldn’t possibly be true.
Unused to giving up control of a situation for long, Mattie rose from her chair and stepped into Hunter’s direct path. “Yes, well, facts are facts. You have a daughter. You must take on the responsibility of raising her and—”
“No.” Annabeth rushed forward, moving in front of her mother, fighting desperately for the right words to steer Hunter away from what Mattie suggested. “You can’t just show up and claim Sarah as your child. She doesn’t even know you.”
“An oversight I plan to rectify immediately.”
“But—” Think, Annabeth, think. “She’s happy at Charity House. It’s the only home she’s ever known. She has friends there, people who love her, people who care for her.”
“People like you?”
“Yes. People like me. Please, Hunter.” She reached for his arm, then pulled her hand back before making contact. “Think this through. Now is not the time for hasty decisions.”
“No. It’s not.” He looked torn, confused and maybe—dare she hope?—ready to concede.
Could it be this easy?
Annabeth pressed her advantage. “What can a man like you offer a nine-year-old little girl?”
“Family,” he whispered after a long pause. “I can give her a real family.”
Of course.
Of course.
Annabeth shut her eyes against a surge of panic. She’d forgotten who this man really was, and where he came from.
Regardless of his lawless ways and time spent in prison, Hunter was a member of a prosperous ranching family that included both parents, loads of brothers and sisters and a former U.S. marshal thrown in for good measure. The Mitchells personified respectability and, better yet, were a close-knit group. They would welcome Sarah into their midst without question. And love her unconditionally.
An ideal solution from any angle.
Unless, of course, Hunter chose not to return to his family’s ranch. Unless he took Sarah to some unknown destination, to live among unknown people.
Annabeth couldn’t take that risk. “You don’t even know she’s yours.”
She was grasping for any argument now. She knew that, felt the shame of it. But Sarah’s future was at stake. And Annabeth was desperate to protect her niece as best she could. She owed that much to the sister she’d lost before truly knowing her.
“Not mine? That’s easy enough to determine.” He pushed past her and headed toward the exit, seemingly convinced one look at Sarah would settle the matter.
Which, of course, it would.
“Wait. Just wait.” She caught his arm and was stunned at the strength of the hard muscles beneath her fingertips, like a rock, solid and unyielding.
“Let go, Annabeth.”
She released him at once. “You can’t possibly think to see her tonight.”
Brows lifted, voice low and rough, he said, “Because?”
She really had to spell it out? That alone proved how ill prepared he was to take care of Sarah on his own. “Because it’s nearly midnight.” She swept her hand toward the clock on the mantelpiece to make her point. “She’s been asleep for hours.”
“Asleep for hours.” He cracked a smile, as if amused by his mistake. Glory. Annabeth couldn’t deny the man was devastatingly attractive when he smiled like that.
She almost sighed. Almost. There was too much at stake to show weakness now.
“Oh, honestly, you two are acting worse than children. Step aside, Hunter.”
His big shoulders shifted and then Mattie appeared from behind him. When Hunter didn’t move completely out of her way she shoved and pushed for position. Satisfied at last, she slapped her hands on her hips and scowled at them both.
“You—” she pointed her finger at Annabeth “—will not stand in this man’s way.”
Annabeth opened her mouth to argue, but Mattie had already spun around to face Hunter. “And you—” she poked him in the chest “—will wait until morning to go to Charity House. It’s the polite thing to do.”
“You’re right.” He conceded quickly, graciously. “I will follow your advice and wait until tomorrow to meet my daughter.”
A momentary glimmer of pleasure flashed in his eyes, sending another burst of panic through Annabeth.
What if he wanted to do right by Sarah? Could she stop him? Should she stop him?
He represented everything she distrusted in a man. He was a former outlaw, a gunslinger, and had spent two years in prison for killing a man. By no stretch of the imagination could he be considered respectable.
Then again, he’d served his sentence. Didn’t that mean he deserved a second chance? How could Annabeth claim to be a Christian and not wish for Hunter to have a fresh start?
She studied his face, searching his gaze for something that would ease her mind.
He looked tired, ready to drop on his feet.
Clearly, he needed rest. And maybe someone to care, someone to understand what he’d endured these past two years. No condemnation. No judgment.
A portion of her trepidation subsided, replaced with something softer and far more complicated. Perhaps Hunter would turn out to be a decent man, after all. Wasn’t that more important than something as tenuous as respectability?
His appearance in their lives might be a good thing.
Faith. Annabeth just needed to have faith that all would turn out well.
“You will stay here, tonight, Hunter, free of charge. I’ll accept no argument on the matter.” Mattie pulled him toward the door leading into her brothel. “We’ll set you up with a hot bath first. Then I’ll send one of my girls to—”
“No.” His refusal was immediate, too immediate to be questioned. “I appreciate the offer, Mattie.” He smiled down at her, even as he extricated himself from her hold. “But I’ll find my own accommodations for the evening.”
“If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” He inclined his head. “Thank you for telling me about my daughter.”
“How could I not?” Mattie’s gaze traveled to Annabeth and stuck. “It was the right thing to do.”
Annabeth swallowed back a retort. They both knew Mattie hadn’t written Hunter out of the goodness of her heart. She’d done so to protect Annabeth, unwittingly endangering Sarah in the process.
How could Mattie have been so shortsighted? So reckless?
They didn’t know Hunter Mitchell, not really. He could turn out to be a hard, cruel man bent on destroying himself and those around him.
The responsibility of protecting her niece had never felt so heavy. Whatever it took, no matter what she had to do, Annabeth would protect Sarah. Even if that meant keeping the child from her own father.
Chapter Three
Hunter watched the steady stream of emotions advance across Annabeth’s expressive face. He was able to track her thoughts easily enough. She didn’t trust him to take care of his own daughter. Not that he blamed her. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself.
How many times had he almost broken free of his past, only to be dragged back, sometimes willingly, sometimes not?
This time would be different.
Because this time he wanted something new, something within reach, something he’d never really wanted before—stability. Not only for himself, but for his daughter, as well.
I have a daughter.
Tenderness filled him, followed by an unbearable churning of the most terrifying emotion of all. Hope. That dangerous, slippery belief that all would turn out well in the end.
Perhaps, for once, it would. Hunter simply had to believe. He had to do his part, then let go and trust the Lord with the details.
His biggest obstacle was blinking up at him with those large, round eyes. Annabeth’s gaze had turned a startling shade of lavender in the muted light and Hunter’s gut clenched with...what? What was this feeling? Anticipation? An awakening?
Something far less pure?
A distraction he didn’t need right now.
Ignoring her for the moment, he turned his attention on Mattie. She smiled up at him, the gesture full of warmth. Few people knew this softer side of Mattie Silks. He smiled back, grateful she’d taken the time to contact him. He knew she’d done so for her own purposes, but the result was the same.
Partially to see what she would do, and partially out of impulse, he yanked the ornery woman into a hug so tight her feet lifted off the floor.
“You rogue.” She twisted and tugged and came up sputtering. “Put me down this instant.”
Grinning at her reaction, he set her back on her feet. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Mattie.” He tapped her on the nose. “You may count on it.”
“Yes, yes.” Cheeks flushed, she dismissed him with a curt shake of her head. “Go on with you now.”
Satisfied in the knowledge that he’d finally found a way to disconcert the unflappable Mattie Silks, he gave her a formal bow. Politeness personified, with a hint of mockery around the edges.
The woman deserved to lose some of her prideful composure. She’d contacted him in a letter, with the shocking news he had a nine-year-old daughter, leaving him to wonder for a full month what to do with the information.
He still wasn’t sure.
What he did know was that Mattie had insinuated herself in the matter for a very personal reason. Her daughter, Annabeth. Sarah’s aunt.
Hunter turned his attention back to the girl.
No. Not a girl, he reminded himself, a full-grown woman, one with a delicate bone structure, soft curves and a rich, throaty voice. Something about her calmed his soul. Even Jane hadn’t been able to do that, not for want of trying.
Blinking at the betraying thought, he ran a hand over his face. He was bone-tired, and surely that explained the disturbing direction his mind had taken.
As if somehow sensing his agitation, Annabeth touched his arm. “Come, Hunter.” He felt himself relax beneath her soft voice. “Let me walk you out.”
When had she developed that confidence in her manner? The last time he’d seen her she’d barely looked him in the eye.
Now she held his gaze with conviction.
“All right,” he said, realizing she still had something to say to him, something she didn’t want her mother to hear.
Hunter found himself intrigued.
Walking into the hallway ahead of him, Annabeth stopped short and looked over her shoulder. “I’ll only be a moment,” she said to her mother. “When I return, we’ll...talk.”
“I’ll be right here, darling.” Mattie Silks in an accommodating mood?
Curious.
“This way, Hunter.” Without waiting to see if he followed, Annabeth headed out. She directed him along a narrow corridor, past a row of closed doors and out into the moonlit night.
He drew in a lungful of fresh air, looked to his right then to his left. They were standing on the deserted street directly behind the brothel. A sense of foreboding took hold. Again, he felt eyes on him as if someone was silently tracking him, biding their time before pouncing.
He’d made enemies, but most were either serving their own prison sentences, or too busy watching their own backs to come looking for him.
A low-level hum of chatter, music and laughter flowed from somewhere in the near distance, probably from one of saloons down the lane, or a rival brothel. Another quick check of the surrounding area and Hunter relaxed, slightly. Other than a stray dog pawing at the ground, they were completely alone. No one was waiting for him, nor were there prying eyes to misunderstand this late-night meeting.
Clearly, Annabeth didn’t want anyone to see them together. Not that Hunter could blame her. With a mother like Mattie Silks and an outlaw father known as one of the meanest cutthroats in the territory, the woman had a lot to hide from the world. Cavorting with an ex-convict, no matter the reason, wouldn’t do her reputation a lick of good.
He looked down at his companion, noted how her troubled gaze went through a series of minor contortions. At the sight of her obvious worry, he felt an unfamiliar need to offer comfort, to let her know he wasn’t here to hurt her.
He touched her arm. “Annabeth.”
She took her time looking up at him. The ethereal beauty of her upturned face took his breath away. Leached of color in the silky moonlight, her exquisite features could have been carved from marble.
He could hardly bear to hold her gaze. He wanted to smooth away her concerns. But he didn’t know what they were, not entirely, and as he’d never been a gentle man, he knew nothing of tenderness or affection.
Perhaps she was concerned he would reveal her personal connection to Mattie to the rest of Denver. In that, at least, he could ease her mind. “Annabeth, I—”
“Hunter, I—”
They both fell silent.
“You first,” he said.
