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Kinsey gasped at the familiar voice. It was the sheriff.
The man whirled, keeping himself in front of Kinsey, shielding her. Humiliation burned in her. What in the world had she been doing?
She stepped from behind the stranger, anxious to put some distance between the two of them.
“It’s nothing, Sheriff Vaughn,” she said, and cringed inwardly at her own shaky voice. Kinsey pointed lamely down the street, realizing that all was quiet now. “The shooting at the Wild Cat…this—this gentleman was just protecting me.”
Sheriff Vaughn studied them for a moment, his gaze bouncing between the two of them.
“You all right?” he asked, his voice a little gentler.
“Yes, Sheriff, I’m fine.”
“Run on ahead,” he said, nodding in the direction of the boardinghouse. “I’ll catch up in a minute. See you safely home.”
Kinsey hurried away, thankful for the darkness that hid her hot cheeks.
Jared watched her go, heat still coursing through him. He couldn’t take his gaze off her, until from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the sheriff and the shotgun he pointed at Jared’s gut.
Sheriff Vaughn was a big man, probably not any older than Jared, but with a hard look and sturdy countenance that surely helped keep him alive in his chosen profession.
The sheriff asked his name and, after Jared provided it, asked, “Where are you from? What are you doing in Crystal Springs?”
“I’m from back east,” Jared said. “Here on business.”
The lawman still didn’t back off, which surprised Jared a little. Small towns like Crystal Springs went to great lengths to lure new business and usually went out of their way to accommodate newcomers. Apparently Sheriff Vaughn didn’t feel that way.
Or maybe he just didn’t like Jared.
“We watch after our women in this town,” Sheriff Vaughn said, hefting the shotgun a little higher. “Even the widows. So don’t go getting any ideas. Mrs. Templeton is well thought of around here.”
Jared’s heart lurched. “Templeton? Kinsey Templeton?”
The sheriff narrowed his gaze at him. “You best watch yourself, Mason. I’m keeping an eye on you.”
Jared stepped up onto the boardwalk as the sheriff strode away. Down the street he caught sight of a skirt swishing in the dim light.
Kinsey Templeton. The woman who’d stolen the first Mason grandchild. He’d found her.
Jared swore under his breath. He’d found his brother’s wife, all right.
And he’d kissed her.
Chapter Three
The towering shade trees that had once sheltered the church lay ahead and Kinsey was never more anxious in her life to get to Sunday service. She had more than her share of sins to atone for this morning.
Already a crowd had gathered. Folks huddled in small circles catching up on news, sharing concern about the sick and shut-ins in Crystal Springs. Children in their Sunday best tugged at their mothers’ hands, anxious to play with friends.
Sam did that now. Kinsey held tight, not wanting him to start roughhousing with the other boys and get dirty before services started.
The church had burned completely to the ground—thankfully no one had been injured—and everyone felt lucky that Reverend Battenfield had agreed to move to Crystal Springs to tend to their spiritual needs, especially under the circumstances. The reverend and his wife, an older couple, were a welcome addition to the town.
With the charred remains as a backdrop, the reverend preached his sermon every Sunday to the townsfolk whowere seated on makeshift benches some of the men in town had built. Kinsey suspected he hoped the difficult circumstances under which he ministered to his flock would be noticed and might loosen purse strings when the building-fund collection plate made its rounds.
Nell and Lily had left the boardinghouse well ahead of Kinsey and she saw them now talking with several other women. Usually, she would have joined them. But this morning Kinsey searched the crowd for someone else.
Sheriff Vaughn.
Embarrassment rose in Kinsey once more and she tried to fight it off so her cheeks wouldn’t turn red again. Good gracious, she’d been caught kissing a man in the alley. What must the sheriff think of her? He hadn’t mentioned it when he’d walked her to the boardinghouse last night, but what if he brought it up this morning? How would she possibly explain it to him?
When she didn’t even understand it herself.
Despite her best effort, Kinsey felt her cheeks grow warm. Because the truth was the stranger hadn’t just kissed her. She’d kissed him back. And her wanton actions hadn’t stopped there. She’d raised herself up on her toes—up on her toes. Leaned her head back so he could kiss her better.
How humiliating. How embarrassing. How could she have done that?
And what was this phantom warmth that lingered in the pit of her stomach hours later?
“Mama, can I go play?” Samasked, tugging on her arm.
Thankfully, reality pushed all thoughts of the stranger in the alley to the back of Kinsey’s mind as she turned her attention to her son. His hair was still damp, slicked into place from when she’d combed it earlier. He wore his Sunday best, dark trousers and the white shirt, that she’d helped him get into after she’d donned her own blue dress and bonnet.
“Can I, Mama? Can I?” he asked, tugging on her arms and hopping up and down.
She glanced across the crowded churchyard and saw several of the boys Sam went to school with playing together.
“All right, you can play for a while. But don’t get—”
Sam jerked away from her and raced toward his friends before she could remind him not to get dirty. As if he would have listened anyway, Kinsey thought with a faint smile.
Just then, Sam tripped on something and fell flat on his belly. A man stepped away from the group of men he’d been talking with and knelt down to help.
Kinsey headed over, not particularly concerned that Sam had hurt himself. He was a tough little fellow and had taken harder falls playing with the Gleason brothers in their backyard. She hadn’t heard him scream, either, the distinctive sound that determined whether a mother responded at a walk, or a dead run.
The man helped Sam to his feet and spoke to him, bringing Kinsey to a quick halt. It was the stranger, the man she’d kissed in the alley.
But he was more than that.
Kinsey saw the stranger and Sam in profile. Same chin. Same nose. Same black hair.
They both turned to her. Eyes and mouth. Nearly identical. Sam’s features were soft. The man’s were hard, straight, rugged. This was what her son would grow up to look like.
Kinsey’s blood ran cold.
Jared Mason had found her.
She charged across the churchyard, her search for the sheriff forgotten, as Jared got to his feet. She swept Sam into her arms. Startled, he let out a scream but Kinsey clamped him against her and dashed through the crowd. At the edge of the churchyard, she ran.
It had taken only a question or two to the men standing with him in the churchyard for Jared to learn where the woman who now called herself Kinsey Templeton lived. Luckily, the sheriff hadn’t been within earshot when Jared had asked his casual questions, and none of the other men noticed when he slipped away.
He’d seen Taylor’s Boardinghouse last night, he realized as he stopped in front of the big white-andgreen house with a front porch swing. Well-made, structurally sound. But was it a clean, decent place for Clark’s son to live?
Another swell of emotion overtook Jared. Clark’s son. He’d known the minute he laid eyes on the boy. He, like Jared, favored the Mason side of the family, though Clark had not.
Even if Jared hadn’t seen the family resemblance, the look on Kinsey Templeton’s face would have told him who the child was. Shock. Fear. And something else.
Courage, Jared realized. The courage of a mama bear come to do battle for her cub. Under other circumstances, Kinsey would have turned and run at the sight of Jared. But she’d charged in, taken her child. He’d seen the fierceness in her eyes.
Jared wondered for the first time since starting this journey what Kinsey Templeton might do to keep her son.
The front door of the boardinghouse was unlocked so Jared walked inside. The parlor was neat, nicely furnished with two settees, several chairs, bookcases and a piano. Off to the right, the large dining room table was backed by a china hutch, its beveled glass doors sparkling in the morning sunlight that beamed into the room.
The place was silent. Jared figured everyone was at church.
Everyone but Kinsey and Sam.
He glanced up the staircase, listened for a moment, then headed down the long hallway toward the back of the house. The men at church had told him Kinsey lived and worked here so he went into the kitchen and, sure enough, spotted her in a small bedroom.
Already she had a satchel sitting on the bed and drawers open in the bureau. Sam stared up at her, grass stain on his shirt, tears on his cheeks.
Jared crossed the kitchen and planted himself in the bedroom doorway. Kinsey whirled, saw him, stepped in front of Sam and pushed her chin up. They glared at each other for a few seconds, sizing each other up.
“You’re frightening the boy,” Jared said softly.
“Keep away from us.”
“You and I need to talk.”
Sam peeked around his mama’s skirt and Jared’s chest tightened. His brother’s child. The only thing left of him. And only one way—one easy way—to get him.
Jared took a step backwards. “Let the boy go outside and play. He doesn’t need to hear this.”
Kinsey didn’t move. Not an ounce of trust showed in her expression. Jared didn’t blame her. If he had a treasure like this, he’d protect it with his life, too.
“I’m just here to talk,” Jared said, holding out both palms.
He retreated to the other side of the kitchen, well away from the bedroom and the door that led outside. After a moment, Kinsey knelt and spoke softly to the boy. He sniffed and nodded. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wiped his eyes and nose, then lifted him into her arms and carried him to the back door. She stood there for a moment, the cool breeze blowing in, and eyed Jared hard. He backed up another step and she put the boy down, spoke to him again, then watched while he ran outside and pulled himself into the rope swing that hung from an oak tree in the backyard.
Kinsey pushed the door closed and turned to Jared, her hand behind her, still on the knob.
“You’re not taking him,” she said. “If that’s what you’re here for, you may as well leave right now.”
His gaze darted to the window. “That’s really him? That’s Clark’s son?”
She hadn’t expected to hear the softness in his voice, the sorrow and longing. With some effort, Kinsey hardened her heart again.
“You’re Jared, aren’t you?” she asked. “Clark spoke of you. I knew you’d be the one to come.”
His eyes cut toward her and Kinsey saw the hard edge, the toughness—both mental and physical—Clark had told her about. Jared, the oldest of the brothers. Biggest, smartest. The leader.
The only Mason tougher than Jared, Clark had said, was their mother. Kinsey knew that was true.
She knew, too, that she was cornered. Escape wasn’t possible, not at the moment, and she’d have to deal with this man.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking a little unsure of himself.
“About last night….” Jared cleared his throat. “I didn’t know that was you in the alley. I sawyou across the street from the stage depot and again working in the restaurant kitchen, but I didn’t know who you were. I wouldn’t have…kissed you, if I’d known. Sheriff told me afterwards.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks. Kinsey glanced away.
“It’s dangerous for you to be on the streets like that at night,” Jared said.
“Worried that somebody might grab me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Like you did?”
His gaze hardened a bit. “I only meant to protect you when the shooting started at the saloon.”
Kinsey gestured toward his pistol. “I’m surprised you didn’t start shooting, too, like most men would have done.”
“Oh.” Jared looked down at the gun. “Well…”
“So I owe you my thanks,” Kinsey said. “For that.”
Jared walked to the window. Kinsey turned and they stood together watching Sam in the swing. Several long minutes crept by, the silence reminding Kinsey of exactly who this man beside her was, even if she had raised onto tiptoes to kiss him.
“He’s healthy?” Jared asked.
Kinsey nodded. “Smart, too. He’s in school. The schoolmarm was impressed that he can read already.”
“You taught him?”
“Sam’s got a quick mind,” Kinsey said. “Like Clark.”
She sawthe hard look on Jared’s face soften again, revealing the hurt and sorrow that he surely still felt for his brother, and that he probably preferred Kinsey didn’t see.
“His name is Samuel?” Jared asked.
“After your father,” Kinsey said. “Itwas Clark’s idea.”
Another quiet moment passed before Jared spoke again.
“We need to talk this out,” he said.
“No, we don’t. You need to leave.”
