by Jillian Hart
"I worked all night." Muscles bunched along his jaw line. "That's when he's your greatest threat. He's attacked twice at night. Now, he might change things next time, but he'd be too recognizable during the day, at least around the ranch. His best chance of grabbing you is when you are vulnerable, when every one of your sisters isn't keeping a sharp eye out for him."
"Right, because at night they'd be asleep, like last time," she finished. That's what she believed too. It's why she'd been able to talk her sisters into daytime outings to the store and church. "What about you? When are you going to get some rest?"
"I'll grab a few hours' sleep after you're home from church." His gaze scanned the churchyard and beyond, methodically watching, searching faces, on alert. "I've got an advantage this time of year with the rain. With the ground soggy, it's tough not to leave a footprint. Craddock wasn't expecting me. Something tells me he's keeping an eye on the sheriff, or his accomplice is. That helps him stay ahead of the previous searches. Not this time."
"But if he sees you coming, if he knows you’re here, won't that give him the advantage again?" Her stomach knotted tighter, and she could feel Ernest, as if he was so close he could reach out and touch her. She whirled around but she saw nothing.
"It doesn't matter. I'll get him anyway. He won't know what to expect from me." Matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the weather. "When I'm done here, I'll head out and follow his back trail. See if I can't find where he's hiding out."
"If you do, then maybe this will be over quickly." Relief surged out of her, roaring like an ocean wave, buckling her knees. She reached out with her free hand and he was there, his hand wrapping around her elbow, keeping her from falling. The zap of sensation from his touch jolted down her arm, straight to her heart. Heat from his fingers pressed through the fabric of her coat and dress, scorching her skin like a brand. Her pulse kicked frantically, thumping erratically in her veins.
"There's no telling how long this will take." He released her, watching her to make sure she stayed standing. "It's a process. I root him out. If I can't make a capture then, I force him out of his comfort zone. Take away his control. His home, his associates, his safe ground. I take it all away until he's run out of every contingency. He'll make a mistake, and I'll take advantage of that. I will win."
He seemed absolutely positive. Verbena took some comfort in that as she tried to stay balanced on her wobbly knees. Her arm burned where he'd touched her. Her heartbeat still skipped beats.
She wanted to say that her reaction to his touch was because she felt Ernest's presence. She'd remembered the terror of being held captive in that line shack with her dress torn and beaten so badly her eyes wouldn't focus, with the cold mountain air breezing over her bare legs. But it wasn't fear she felt, it wasn't even residual trauma. It was because of the man at her side. No one could be more rough and rugged than Zane Reed, yet she felt safe with him. She couldn’t explain why.
"You didn't answer my question." Curiosity warmed his words, drove the hardness from his tone. "Why are you standing outside with me in the rain? It looks like the service is starting."
"Because I need to talk to you." She twisted around, swiping rain off her face, in time to see Lawrence dragging himself up the steps, perhaps resigned she did not need his protection from the fearsome looking stranger after all.
Aumaleigh still perched on the top step, huddled in the shelter of the overhead little roof, watchfully. Totally unnecessary. Verbena waved at her aunt, gesturing for her to go in but Aumaleigh shook her head. She wasn't budging. The churchyard was empty, the windows in the church gleaming with lamplight.
"Fine. I'll come by your house around suppertime, and we'll talk." He nodded toward the front steps. "Your aunt is waiting for you. Go in out of the rain."
"No, I don't want anyone to overhear what I want to say. My sisters will try to listen in, and I don't want that. We talk now." She gazed up at him with those rich blue eyes, the shade of the finest sapphires. Her heart shone there, unprotected. She was troubled. "I've thought over what you said yesterday, and if you are doing this as a favor for Milo, then he's in charge. And I want to be."
"No one is in charge of me." He almost smiled at that. Funny. "Why is that important to you? Because you're a woman and you like to boss men around?"
"See, I think you're joking with me but I can't tell." She squinted up at him, the corners of her soft, lush mouth tugging upward. "You're a hard man to read."
"You don't need to read me. What you see is what you get." He'd have liked to say he had layers, depth, that he was a man worthy of a normal life. But he had never fit in, no one had ever wanted him. Never would. Well, that was alright with him. He shifted the rifle against his shoulder, glancing behind him on the street. Casual, but his gaze was sharp.
"I want to help you hunt down Ernest." Her tone was unflinching, straight and direct. She couldn’t have surprised him more.
"You want to ride with me?" He shook his head, imagining her at risk in the forest. Adamant, he clamped his jaw tight. "Not going to happen."
"No, I mean, there has to be a way to bring him out in the open." She was trembling in fine little quakes. Her eyes had dilated, her gaze beseeching. This scared her, but she was brave. "If I draw him out, then you don't have to spend your time tracking him. You could just capture him and be done with it. Then my sisters are safe faster."
"Ah." Realization dawned. "We're back to the sisters again."
"Yes." Agony turned her eyes almost black. Her exquisite face crinkled up with worry lines. Genuine and true, no pretense there. Just a woman who cared more for her family. "Every day he isn't caught means it's another day my sisters could be hurt. He's already caused so much harm, and I need to stop him."
"I'm here for that," he reminded her, his chest tangling up so hard it hurt to breathe. Interesting. "You can't help. You'd be putting yourself at risk."
"I don't care." Unwavering, she clenched her fists, staring up at him steely-eyed.
The woman was getting to him. He had to look away, watching the aunt instead standing in front of the closed church door, reluctant to leave her precious niece alone with a man like him. He couldn’t blame her there, that was always the consensus. He knew that others thought he was a killer--and he couldn’t deny it. He'd killed. He would do it again if he had to.
"I care," he admitted. That was the truth and far more emotional than he'd ever been, not at least in a long time. "We'll talk about this later. I'll stop by when I can and make it clear to your sisters I need to talk to you alone, no argument. How's that?"
"Okay." Relief brightened her eyes. Gratitude gentled her face, chasing the worry lines from her forehead and from around her rosebud mouth. "Thank you. Come to the kitchen door. I'll be there to let you in."
"It's a deal, then." He had to steel the walls of his heart when she smiled up at him, beaming a sincerity that rocked him back on his heels. For all her incredible outward beauty, Verbena McPhee had a heart that outshone it.
He felt humbled, for all the conclusions he'd made about women over the years. She was like sunshine walking, even in the rain. He couldn’t take his gaze off her as she crossed the sodden grass. At the top of the steps she gave her aunt a hug, reassuring her, and the two of them went into the church together.
Leaving him alone.
Yeah, he thought, tightening his grip on his gun. He was going to bring this man in hard and fast. No one was going to hurt Verbena McPhee. Not on his watch.
* * *
She thought of Zane through the service. He stayed at the back of her mind, alone, solitary. The brand of his touch to her arm remained, duller now as the hour passed and the last notes of the closing hymn faded. Overhead rain beat harder against the roof than it had before. He was out there in that, searching for Ernest. She was grateful for that.
"Magnolia, did you have to fidget the entire time?" Rose rolled her eyes, threading her way into the aisle. "You kept bumping me."
"I could
n't help it. I kept trying to keep an eye on Tyler." Magnolia went up on tiptoe, peering through the crowd spilling into the aisle. "He came in late. He's in the back. I can't see him."
"I can," Iris said. "He's waiting for you by the door."
Verbena scooted forward in the crush, unable to keep her mind from circling back to Zane. Where was he now? Back on the mountain? In the ice and snow? He was there on her behalf, exposing himself to danger for her--regardless if he was used to danger, he was still at risk. Ernest was somewhere here in town, he likely could have spotted Zane, realized the man was tracking him. The last two men who'd gotten in Ernest's way had been knifed from behind. So it was natural to be concerned about Zane out there in the forest alone, right?
It didn't mean that she cared any more for him than she did anyone else. She simply didn't want it on her conscience. That was all. That was a perfectly logical explanation, she told herself as she crowded into the aisle. It didn't mean she had a thing for him, not at all.
"I feel for you, I really do," a woman's voice said in the nearby crowd. "What was Tyler thinking proposing to that girl?"
"I don't know," another voice answered. Tyler's mother, Nora Montgomery. Polished, wealthy, privileged, the woman who did not approve of Magnolia being beaued by her son certainly looked miserable at the engagement. "I know his grandmother is turning in her grave. He asked for her heirloom ring."
"Why, hello there Nora," Aumaleigh said forcefully, her pleasant voice pitched to carry a warning wrapped up with a tight smile. "So glad to see you here at church today."
"Why, don't you look rather, uh, fetching." Nora narrowed her gaze, looking down on Aumaleigh. She schooled her face into a pleasant semblance of a fake smile. "I was just telling Helen how delighted we are about your niece and my son."
"Yes, I couldn't help overhearing," Aumaleigh said tersely. "I, however, was hoping for a better mother-in-law for my niece. Something for you to think about, or you and I will have problems. Now excuse me. Enjoy your day."
Aumaleigh grabbed Verbena by the wrist and led her down the aisle, her jaw clenched, her face heated with anger. Well, you go Aumaleigh, Verbena thought, surprised by this side of her gentle aunt. But she knew what it felt like when a loved one was threatened in any way.
"I just wish I knew what to say to that woman," she confessed to her aunt. "I always think of what I should have said in the middle of the night when I can't sleep because I'm so upset."
"That's usually me, but I've had enough with unhappy endings." Aumaleigh pushed her way past the Higgins family, heading toward the open door. "It's time to put the McPhee family curse to rest. You girls deserve to find the love no other McPhee so far has had. So Beckett is going to recover just fine, and Nora is going to accept Magnolia. So help me."
Verbena stumbled, realization washing over her. She may be more like her aunt than she realized. They were fighters, fighting for their loved ones. Wanting the very best for them, and that happiness was in reach. Heartened, she spotted Magnolia and Tyler together, hand-in-hand, crossing the lawn to his buggy together. They leaned into each other, talking away, absorbed in one another. Love radiating from them like the purest of lights.
And then there was Rose. She exchanged parting words with Pastor Ammon at the front of the vestibule and hopped down the stairs, where she was met by a handsome deputy waiting for her. Wade Wetherby offered his arm, good-looking in a friendly, dependable kind of way. The two of them headed off to his buckboard. Looked like the deputy would be driving Rose home again.
Iris stood in the middle of the lawn, talking with Elise and Gemma. Maebry sauntered up to her and they all hugged, immediately launching into a discussion. Yes, everyone looked happy. Verbena smiled, feeling lighter, trudging forward toward the Pastor shaking everyone's hand.
Across the church, Daisy waved. She looked happy too, holding seven-year-old Hailie's hand in hers. Her future stepdaughter danced in place, the girl adorable with her midnight blue eyes and dark hair tied up in two rigid braids.
"That awful man is there again." A woman's voice rose up from behind. Nora. Again. "That man with a gun. He looks violent."
"Uncivilized," Helen said dismissively. "Probably lives in the woods like an animal. He'll move on, just don't give him any money. He's likely a beggar."
Protective anger surged through her and she spun around to set those women straight. But Aumaleigh stopped her, taking hold of her arm and tugging her into the rain.
"Ignore them." Aumaleigh buttoned her coat, sweeping down the stairs.
"You didn't ignore them earlier," she pointed out, keeping up with her aunt. She moved fast. Good thing her sprained ankle wasn't complaining too much. "I don't like what they said about Zane. He's helping us."
"Yes, he is. But one argument with them in a day is enough. My, he is intimidating, isn't he?" Aumaleigh's gaze arrowed to the man standing at the perimeter, near the hitching posts, dressed all in black, his Stetson at a low angle.
He was. But one look at him, and that sensation returned to her heart. The one that felt like caring.
"Uh, Miss Verbena," Lawrence Latimer interrupted. He swept off his bowler hat, splattering rainwater, and bowed deeply. His brown hair, damp with rain, looked streaky as did his mustache, which was beginning to droop. He gestured to his waiting donkey and cart. "May I have the esteemed honor of escorting you home?"
"No, but thank you, Lawrence." She pitched the rejection as kindly as she could. "I'm staying with my family today. But you have a nice afternoon."
"Oh, then it is my great loss." Sadness darkened his puppy-dog eyes. The rejection had hurt him. He plopped his hat on his head, took several steps back and trudged away, downcast.
She felt really bad, but she did not want to be beaued by Lawrence and his mustache. Or any man, for that matter.
She felt the pull of Zane's gaze. Across the crowded lawn, his hard mouth eked up in the corners. He tipped his hat to her and strode away, rifle in hand.
Her heart gave a little patter, and it was hard to tell why. Better to tell herself it had nothing to do with the man, because, honestly, after what she'd been through she could never get close to another man again.
"Uh, Miss Verbena?" Bradley Calhoun came up to her next, knuckling back his hat. "Perhaps you would let me escort you home?"
"Thank you, but no." She smiled gently, trying to let him down easily. "Sorry, not today. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Calhoun."
"Come," Aumaleigh said, steering Verbena toward the buckboard where Burton stood, hand on his holstered gun. "Let's get you home and safely away from all overeager suitors."
"Excellent idea." She climbed in and scooted over on the seat. The back of her neck itched. Her stomach felt wadded up into a tiny, tight ball. Ernest had to be nearby. She glanced around, but she couldn't see him. Or Zane, either. She knew both men were out there, the hunter and the stalker.
Chapter Seven
Aumaleigh McPhee was concerned about her nieces. She couldn't help being. She loved them. As she dunked the last pan into the rinse water and swished it around, her gaze strayed across the manor's spacious kitchen. The girls fluttered about--Iris putting away dishes and Verbena wiping down counters. The noon meal had been quiet with just the three of them. Daisy had returned to Beckett's cottage down the way, and Rose was still out with the trustworthy deputy.
"Aumaleigh, how many times do I have to say it?" Iris closed the cabinet door and sailed over to the cook stove where the tea kettle whistled a tune. "I'll put the pot away. Just leave it on the counter."
"Helping clean up is the least I can do. Dinner was delicious and I appreciate you girls inviting me."
"Why wouldn't we? As we love you." Verbena, sweet as could be, looked up from setting beautifully made cupcakes onto a pretty china plate. Her lustrous brown hair, highlighted with coppery reds and honey blonds, gleamed in the lamplight, down loose today, framing her beautiful face to perfection. "So let Iris put the pot away and come with me into the library
. You need to help me eat these cupcakes, since we have too many. Something needs to be done about it."
"So I see." Resigned, Aumaleigh set down the pot. She was used to kitchen work, after all she'd helped in the ranch's kitchen for years, but it felt nice to be pampered. Her heart filled with a cozy feeling, treasuring this sense of belonging, of being wanted by her nieces. She wanted them right back, so she hung up the dish towel near the stove to dry. "It looks like a serious situation with so many cupcakes."
"We went a little overboard for our get together," Iris confessed, measuring tea into a ball. "Plus we were having fun. We didn't have any baking jobs, so we just baked for ourselves."
"I've never seen anything so lovely." Aumaleigh leaned back against the counter, admiring the cupcakes. The icing had been whipped and shaped to resemble flower petals. There were roses, daisies and carnations in fluffs of white.
"Wait until you taste 'em." Verbena's eyes lit as she lifted the plate, balancing it carefully as she reached for her cane. "I'm the official taste tester, so it has my stamp of approval."
"Who are you kidding?" Iris winked. "You'll eat anything."
"Almost true," Verbena agreed cheerfully, as if there wasn't a mad-man hunting her, as if she hadn't been through a terrible ordeal. "But that doesn't change the fact that these cupcakes are excellent. Chocolate with a fudgy chocolate center. In fact, I might just have to eat all of these just to taste test them again. Sorry, but you'll have to get your own plate of cupcakes."
"Funny." Iris plunked the tea kettle back on the stove and lifted the tea tray off the counter. "Into the library, now. Before we resort to eating those cupcakes right here, where we stand."