“What?” Chris roared.
Katie straightened her shoulders. “You’ve harped at me about how Whelan is bound to track me down. I’ve come to my good senses and realized staying here endangers everyone else—especially the baby.”
“The only place you’re going,” Chris said through clenched teeth, “is to bed.”
She stood toe-to-toe with him and tilted her head back to glare at him. “You’re sinfully bossy, and I don’t have to put up with it. I can come and go as I please.”
“Nae, you canna.” He waited a second as the air crackled with tension. “You’re an important witness. If you dinna pledge to remain here of your own free will, I’ll put you in protective custody.”
“I believe I’ll start breakfast,” Mercy murmured.
“I’ll help.” Katie turned away from him, grasping at the opportunity to get away from him.
Chris grabbed her arm and spun her back around. “You’ll not do a thing until you give me your word.”
“You’ve got my money and my derringer.”
“Nice try, Miss Regent. You didna distract me, though.”
She shoved back an errant curl. “You have the winning ways of a rabid skunk, Chris Gregor. And nerve! You have the nerve to demand a promise when all this time you’ve been lying to me.”
“I never once lied.” He glowered at her. “My personal information was none of your business. Now are you going to be reasonable, or am I going to haul you off to the jailhouse and lock you up?”
“Personal information. None of my business,” she muttered. “Fine. If that’s how you want it, that’s how you’ll get it. I’ll stay here.”
“Until I give you permission to leave,” he added.
A cry of outrage curled in her throat. Chris silently admired her cunning. He’d have done the same thing—plotted a way to keep his word and still get his way. Each time he looked about the house and spied a piece of the gingerbread embellishment, it reminded him of how a prompt agreement could come back to haunt someone. Instead of rashly agreeing to anything, he now took time to consider every angle someone might use to get the better part of a pact.
“Fine. I’ll stay until you get so sick of me, you’ll push me out the door. There. Are you happy now?” Before he could respond, she turned to Mercy. “I’m usually not like this. Even a saint would be liable to lose his composure around your brother-in-law. Well, I can’t blame him for all of it. I did let him goad me into this. It’s my fault, too. I apologize for bringing strife into your beautiful home. Truly, I do.”
Mercy reached over and took her hand. “The Gregor men take getting used to. They’re hardheaded, but when you get past that, you’ll recognize that their motives are pure. Chris loves the Lord and is seeking justice. He’s doing his duty.”
“Besides,” he tacked on, “you willna have to put up with me much. My responsibilities keep me busy.”
Katie sighed wearily. “If that was supposed to make me feel better, you failed.”
Chris ignored the kink in his back and watered his horse before setting out his bedroll. Frustration filled him. Almost two months earlier, he’d dumped Katie into his family’s care and resumed his search for Whelan. Every other week or so, he’d drop by home. Each time he did reassured him that Katie was happy there.
Only something didn’t feel quite right. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Well, tomorrow he’d drift by on his way to Dallas. Maybe spend two days this time. With that thought, he bedded down for the night.
I’m making a fool of myself. It’s probably just that I haven’t managed to get Katie’s belongings shipped to her. I’ll do that soon. Real soon. And ’twill be good to see the lass again. She’s won the hearts of my family, and Mercy canna sing her praises enough. And singing—aye, the little songbird is humming or singing a fair portion of the time. She’s found contentment e’en without her possessions, but ’tis her worries that hold her back from being completely happy. That truth is undeniable.
Katie Regent is a bonny lass, and as soon as I’ve got Whelan behind bars, she can stop fretting. Certainly, there must be men calling on her. Instead of dreading Whelan, she can turn her mind toward marriage. A man couldna court and wed a sweeter lass.
Hot, dusty, and hungry, Chris strode up the steps at home the next day. To his keen disappointment, no one was there. Then he heard Katie’s voice coming from the garden. Chris headed that direction.
The sight that met him ought to have been captured in a painting. He stood for a moment and stared. The henna Lucille had tinted Katie’s hair with had finally rinsed away, so her hair was back to being the exact same soft shade as a newborn fawn. She’d lost her frail look and glowed with health. Aye, bringing her here had been a grand plan.
Katie held Elspeth’s tiny hand and steadied her as she took a few halting steps along a stone pathway. “Aren’t you a big girl! So big!”
“Bee-ah! Bee-ah!” Elspeth declared.
Chris chuckled as he headed toward them. “Is my niece asking for beer?”
Katie laughed. “She’s saying she’s a big girl. And you are, aren’t you, precious?” She swept Elspeth into her arms. The sight of Katie cuddling a baby seemed so natural, so right. Every time he came home, Chris marveled at how easily she fit in. He cleared his throat. “Where is everybody?”
“Duncan’s in his workshop. Carmen went to Otto’s to help her sister serve the field hands. Mercy is assisting Rob over in his clinic. He’s removing tonsils today.”
“I see. I’ve arranged to have your things delivered. They ought to be here any day now.”
“You did?” Her eyes sparkled. “Thank you!” Just as quickly, her smile melted away. “Does the livery here store goods?”
“I suppose they might. Why?”
She hitched her right shoulder. “After Mercy’s had her baby and is recovered, it would be wise for me to move.”
“ ’Tis nonsense you just spoke. Utterly foolish. Just because Whelan hasna discovered your whereabouts isna license for you to venture far.”
“He must be far busier trying to evade you than searching for me.”
“I always said the man was a fool.” What got into me? Why did I say that? Chris shifted from one foot to the other.
“I planned to go to the mercantile today. The reservoir on the stove is full. If you’d like, you can empty it into the tub and have a good, long soak.”
“I confess I’m taking a shine to that notion.”
She pretended to nibble on the fingers of Elspeth’s bitty little hands. “Mmm. Mmmm. Mmmm!”
Elspeth giggled with glee.
The way Katie sometimes peeped over the tops of her spectacles made a man feel as if she were flirting. In fact, she used those glasses better than most Southern belles used a fan. Best of all, coyness had nothing to do with it. Her natural charm and the effect of her blue, blue eyes in their shy appraisals made his heart beat faster. So was the habit she had of slightly pursing her lips as she considered her words before speaking. Made a man want to pull her close and share a kiss before the opportunity was lost.
Whoa. What am I thinking?
“I’m serious, Chris. Mercy is due any day now, and I’ll help her as she recovers. But after that, it’s time for me to move on.”
“You gave me your word that you’d stay until I released you.”
“So, release me.”
He shook his head. “You’d be helpless.”
“You once told me you’d see to it that I learned how to fire a gun. Teach me, and then I won’t be helpless.”
“That would only lend you a false sense of security. It would take considerable time and practice before you’d achieve any accuracy.” He could see his words didn’t satisfy her. Chris decided to use the truth to scare her into behaving.
“The loot we recovered that day from Whelan and the men? It’s been identified. Part of it is from another bank robbery. The watch belonged to the bank president. He was killed. The rest came from a ranch they
hit.”
The color drained from her face.
He gently eased Elspeth from her arms and used his other hand to tilt Katie’s face to his. “Dinna think you’ll be safe from him, lass. His soul is black as pitch, and he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. You must stay here.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. Her attempt to blink them back failed.
“I’m sorry to scare you, but running off will get you killed.”
She pulled away from him and brushed away her tears. More trailed down her pale cheeks. “You have to let me go, Chris. You have to. For your family’s sake. What if he finds me here?”
“If Whelan wanted revenge on my family, he’d have done so long ago. ’Tis no secret where we live.”
“You don’t understand.” She’d taken to wringing her hands. The distress in her voice tore at him.
Cupping Elspeth to his chest, he used his mildest tone. “Are you not happy here?”
“I’ve never been so happy. But that doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. I want you to be happy and safe.”
“But I’m miserable!”
She wasn’t making any sense. Chris stared at her. Maybe Duncan or Rob could explain this to him. As married men, maybe they would be able to clarify what feminine irrationality applied to the situation.
“I can’t take it anymore. I have to go!”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he half roared.
Elspeth chimed in. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
“But Whelan—”
“Leave Whelan to me, Katie.”
Anguish clearly twisted her features. “But … he’s my brother.”
Chapter 9
Your brother.”
She couldn’t see his face clearly through her tears, but his voice was calm. Katie bit her lip, started to nod, and then blurted out, “Stepbrother.”
“Stepbrother.” His voice grew deeper as he echoed her words.
Katie reached over and patted Elspeth’s back. “I have to go now. You take good care of her.”
His left hand shot up and manacled her wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.” He hauled her in his wake over toward the workshop, bellowing, “Duncan!”
Duncan shot out of his workshop. “Aye?”
“Take Elspeth.” Chris gently transferred her and pressed a kiss on her cheek as she babbled a stream of sounds. His tenderness made Katie cry all the harder.
“What’s amiss?” Duncan held the baby protectively.
“Miss Regent.”
“Katie?” Duncan gave her a baffled look.
“You’ll never guess what she’s been hiding.” Chris didn’t even pause. “Whelan’s her brother.”
“Brother?” Duncan’s brows shot upward.
“Stepbrother,” she corrected tearfully.
“What other lies have you told us?” Chris demanded.
“I never once lied.” Anger shot through her. “The night you brought me here and I discovered what you are, I begged you to let me go. You’d hidden the truth, and when I confronted you, you proclaimed you’d never once lied to me and that your personal information was none of my business.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Christopher Gregor. You can’t fault me when you did the selfsame thing!”
“ ’Tis not the same thing a-tall! My business is to bring that criminal to justice.”
He marched her down the street, kicked open the jail door, and shoved her into a cell. The keys jangled loudly as he locked her in.
“What are you doing? You can’t lock me up. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Accessory after the fact,” he said curtly. “You have knowledge concerning a criminal and did nothing to bring him to justice. Any blood he’s shed since the day of our shootout—that blood is on your hands, Miss Regent.”
“That’s outrageous!” She clenched her fingers around the bars and rattled the gate. It made a horrible clatter but didn’t yield. “How could I possibly know what he was doing when you were with me?”
“Criminals have hideaways. Where’s your brother’s?”
“I told you I didn’t know where my brother was. I told you the day we met!”
“I scarcely believe you’d announce to all and sundry that your brother’s face was on a WANTED poster and you knew his whereabouts.”
“I haven’t seen him in five years. Not until that day.”
“That makes for a touching story, but I don’t buy it. Not for one second. He’s been all around Texas, wreaking havoc. You think I’m so thickheaded I would think his stumbling into you in the wide open spaces of Texas was just a coincidence?”
Slowly, she uncurled her fingers and let loose of the bars. Sinking onto the narrow wooden plank bed, she held her shaking hands tightly together. “Believe whatever you want to. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Chris sat down at the desk and pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer. The only sound in the jail was the scratch of his pen’s nib on the paper.
I’ve been such a fool. I knew this day would come and he’d be furious. I knew it. So why did I always look forward to him coming home? And why am I so hurt that he’s acting just as I knew he would?
Minutes passed. Finally, she said, “The clock’s not wound.”
He kept his back to her and gave a maddening shrug.
“Just how long are you planning on leaving me in here?”
“As long as it takes.” He swiveled the oak chair around. The smile on his face chilled her to the core. “The game has changed, Wren. I’m no longer chasing the rat. I’m setting a trap with irresistible bait: you.”
It didn’t escape her notice that he’d reverted to calling her “Wren” or “Miss Regent.” The way he’d pronounce “Katie” accentuated his Scottish burr, and it always made her feel as if a tiny measure of affection or protection came with the name change. But that was gone now.
“Aye, Wren. He’ll come to get you.”
“You’re wasting your time. He left me behind when Mama died. If he wouldn’t take care of me when I was only fifteen, what makes you think he’ll suddenly turn into a dutiful brother? Not everyone is blessed to have fine brothers like you do.”
“Your story is touching, but it’s hogwash, and we both know it. A lass out on her own at such a tender age wouldna be able to afford a fancy sewing machine. I dinna ken why I didna wonder about that earlier. But that alone condemns you.”
“I scrimped and saved and sacrificed for that machine!”
He gave her a mocking smile and applauded. “I believe you missed your calling in life, Wren. You should have become an actress. ’Tis rare to find such talent.”
Stinging from his insult, she backed away and sat on the board. “You don’t want justice; you want revenge. You’re mistaken, though. You loved your friend. My stepbrother doesn’t value me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I’d like an envelope, please.”
Chris held his hand out by the bars. “Pass me the letter.”
“The United States mail is private!”
“Your letter isn’t in the mail yet, and it’s standard practice to review all communications entering and leaving a jailhouse.” He stared at her.
“Oh, all right.” She huffed, yet she carefully turned her hand sideways so the pages wouldn’t become wrinkled.
An intelligent woman, Kathryn Regent might well have a code of some kind. Chris moved to a sunny spot and looked down at the paper. Dear Lucille …
Chris snorted. He’d not underestimate her. The woman was as wily as could be. He shoved the letter onto his desk. “You don’t really expect me to send that.”
“I do. Even the Romans permitted Paul to send letters from jail.”
Duncan came in, and Chris spoke to his brother, “Stay here for a few minutes while I send off a few telegrams and do another errand.”
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Duncan gawked at him. “
Open that cell and free that lass this verra minute!”
“I don’t tell you how to make shoes and saddles. Don’t tell me how to do my job.” He kept possession of the keys and stalked out of the jail.
By the time he’d sent the necessary telegrams and arranged for an article to run on the front page of the Gazette, Chris dared to hope he’d finally bring down Whelan. He’d need to deputize several men in town and was making a mental list of likely prospects when he walked back into the jailhouse.
“What,” he roared, “is going on here?”
Mercy was pushing a quilt through the bars of Wren’s cell. Carmen finished making up the bunk in the adjacent cell. A canning jar with flowers sat on his desk. Rob tromped in with a fresh bucket of water and a dipper, and Elspeth slept contentedly in a wicker basket in the middle of the activity.
“You put the lass in our care,” Duncan asserted. “Aye, you did. So we’re caring for her.”
“I remembered you saying something about protective custody when you brought Katie home to us.” Mercy straightened out and rubbed her lower back. “So Carmen and I decided she needed help making this dreary place more comfortable. We’ll each take turns staying with her. It’s not proper for her to be alone with you.”
“She’s locked inside the cell.”
“And a sad state of affairs that is.” Robert gave Chris a baleful glare. “I’ll not hold with blaming an innocent for the wrongs someone else has done.”
“Does it occur to any of you that Whelan has managed to avoid capture even with two bullet holes in him? That she might be tipping him off?”
“And how would I be doing that?”
“Any number of ways. Telegrams—”
“Carmen and I would know if she’s sent any.” Mercy shook her head. “She hasn’t.”
“Letters. She wrote one today.”
“To Lucille?” Carmen smiled. “I hope you told her cook how much we love that recipe for the spaghetti.”
“See? She’s been sending letters.” Chris spied something and stomped across the floor. He opened the small, glass-fronted door on the clock and stopped the pendulum. After closing it, he opened the face and reset the hands. “No one touches that. No one.”
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