The Bounty Hunter's Heart

by Jillian Hart

  "Another bad blizzard maybe? Whew, listen to that wind." She didn't look very happy. "It's a good thing I have enough food in case I can't get out tomorrow. I don't know what the weather is thinking. We had a decent winter last year."

  "It happens. It might just be a series of storms now and then you have a mild November. You just can never tell, although some men have good weather sense. It's not one of my best skills." He watched Saydee bow her head forward a bit, those golden tendrils tumbling forward to caress her rosy, porcelain cheeks, and dipped her chin as she slipped the platter onto the table, and a troubled sigh rattled her slim frame.

  Her pink-petal, soft as silk lips parted, revealing the perfect even teeth of her smile and the tip of her tongue. The memory of their kiss, hot and forbidden, slammed through him just as the storm outside began to blow harder, beating against the outside of the house with the promise of a harder storm to come. He swallowed hard, unable to control his response to their kiss's memory or to the pale column of her curving neck, vulnerable and sweet, and how he hadn't had time to have moved that long kiss he'd given her downward or to progress it at all. His chest kicked. "It's unfortunate for you that I'm trapped here still, but I'm also glad and grateful to be if you can put up with me."

  "I might suffer, but I won't put you out in the cold in a blizzard. Besides, I could use the company, even for an extended stay if you would consider that. It can't be easy to leave Jack at all, and you can't be in a hurry to do that. Not if there's no real need to hurry. Or, maybe my aunt's family can help you out." She swished away, a warm and caring light.

  He wished he knew how to stop what was hurting so much. "You taking care of Jack is all that I'm going to let you do, with great thanks."

  "That's rather confident of you, isn't it? How do you know that I will do a good job?" She grabbed a serving bowl and a covered basket and headed for the table. "I might be awful with children, for all you know."

  "True, but you seem to hold onto your job as a governess in that fine, fancy house. That tells me something about you, in addition to the compliments from your brother. It makes a good impression."

  "All false ones." Her eyes danced with mischief, and she blushed rosily, so pretty.

  "I have faith in you and you know why. We both did time in that orphanage." He stood at her side, fighting the scorch of heat and awareness and his own despair at not being able to say yes to her vulnerable request. "You aren't gonna change your mind about keeping me for a bit, are you?"

  "No, I don't break my word, especially not to you, Winn." She slipped both bowl and basket onto the table, where Jack had already quietly but eagerly settled into his chair, eyes owlish with hunger. "I'm not sorry there's another blizzard fencing you in."

  "Easier isn't my way, but I do need the rest." He eased back her chair and helped scoot her in to the table, towering above her so close, his voice vibrated straight through her when he spoke. "So it's a good thing I like spending time here. You're not so bad to spend time with, you know, for being a woman."

  "A backhanded compliment, huh? You're a bad man, Winn McMurphy." She couldn't help but laugh and looked up at the hard span of his chest, wishing she could be held there, snug and sheltered, against his heart. "I just have to be honest with you. You're not so bad for being a man."

  "I appreciate that very much." He scooted his chair in and grabbed the platter of pot roast.

  No one had ever affected her so much and it stymied her. Admiration and affection and desire swirled together as she took the platter from him to dish up some roast, unable to take her eyes off the man. The lamplight burnished his rough-hewn features, rendering him more handsome and unbearably masculine than ever.

  What would it be like to be loved by him, by this powerful and tender, tough and good man? How would it feel to spend every night cozy against his protective chest, in his arms, in his bed?

  "Thanks for allowing me to stay here, Saydee. It's the first time I've ever lived with a woman. I have to tell you, you're bad for my reputation. It will be forever stained because of you."

  She'd almost forgotten what it was like to laugh with a man. The deeper rumble of his laugh seemed to brighten the depths of her heart and touch her soul, and she laughed even more easily. Deeply affected, she handed the platter to Jack, who took it carefully, his eyes hungrily assessing the food and looked pleased, as if he approved. Well he should, it was made by a cook brought in from back East. His appetite had returned and that was a good sign.

  She stole two rolls from the basket and set it on the table near the boy. She felt the heated brush of his gaze. She wasn't sure letting him know that would be a good idea. "So sorry to be such an impediment to your pristine reputation, but when a man spends the night in a lady's home, there is no other possible outcome for him."

  "Let alone her, huh? I'm assuming your cousin will keep our secret?" He bowed his head as he loaded his fork with a chunk of seasoned, succulent beef. "It would be best for you if she did. If nobody else knows, then it's as if I've disappeared or was never here."

  "Never here?" She nearly dropped her fork. The fire popped like a gunshot in the parlor's grate, echoing like a ricochet through the house, and she watched him jump and his gaze strayed over his shoulder into the lamplit room, scanning the upholstered furniture and the flames dancing cheerily in the hearth. All was well, but not in her heart. What did she say to that? She chewed and swallowed, took in a sustaining bite of air and studied the look of sorrow etched on his chiseled, rugged face.

  "You matter, you're someone, not no one nameless meant to disappear as if you never were." She watched honest pain and true surprise light his dark eyes, and she felt the hook of his emotion touch her heart. How had she known? She could feel his unspoken question in the warm air between them. She knew that he'd had no parent alive to come fetch him from the cruel, heartless hardship of the orphanage, where he'd been no one at all. "Here, in this house, to me, you matter. Your life is important, and I do not want you to be lost out in those mountains. Let my uncle get involved. My aunt will talk him into it. Please, let me help you, Winn. Please."

  21

  Winn felt the touch of her heart in the air between them, light and sweet, as earnest as the girl he'd once known her to be. She'd grown up well, surely she had, and his heart beat double time fighting an affection he could not allow himself to act on or to feel.

  He glanced over at his son, and he didn't know how he would leave the boy anyway, so that made Saydee's offer feel like a safe respite from an unescapable problem, insurmountable on his own. The key was to keep this centered on Jack and not on his own loneliness and unexpected attraction to the woman, so different from the girl he'd barely remembered and had hardly spoken to back then.

  Then again, he'd been mostly a silent boy, nearly mute with sorrow when his father abandoned him, so sick, after his mother died of diphtheria. He'd hardly noticed anyone and had been grateful for Edwin's thoughtful friendship at that lonely, forsaken place. He bowed his head now, taking another bite of roast beef before he stabbed a spear of carrot and cube of potato, both so mealy soft and seasoned and tasting like heaven, with his fork.

  Man, he'd been half starved on the journey here, giving Jack most of the food he'd bought, intent only on evading death until he could face the merciless killers head-on and without a child in tow, armed and at an advantage. Now he knew that might never happen, the advantage part anyway, but he'd had no one to turn to, no where to go, no way to involve anyone without them being a target too, which meant the sheriff he'd talked to about it had already been shot dead in the street.

  "The thing is, I just can't involve anyone else, every single person who offered to help would be a target and in danger from a ruthless man and his couple of friends, if there is friendship among thieves and murderers. I can't be responsible for that, I just can't. It takes one bullet, that's all. Jack knows what I'm talking about. And you are too nice, Saydee, and so is your aunt's family to ever jeopardize them for my sak
e. Believe me, trust me on this."

  "I believe you, I just don't want you to be alone. You need help."

  "I do, but I can't risk this. This is something I've got to do on my own. And I care about you too much to let anything happen to you, even if I never actually ruin your reputation, beautiful lady."

  "Oh, don't you try using compliments to sway me to accepting your argument and excuse."

  "It's a serious thing, me staying here overnight. I'm betting that you would lose your job over it if folks found out, not to mention the way you would be shamed from polite society in this town or as far as word could travel. Even if we're both innocent of doing you-know-what. I've behaved myself. I haven't made demands on you."

  Sex, that's what he meant. Her face flamed and the fork tumbled out of her shocked hand. Luckily, it was empty so she snatched it up off the tablecloth with trembling fingers and managed to grasp it by the handle like a normal person, like nothing had effected her at all. But his mention of sex panicked her, because she couldn't halt the heat creeping through her body. She was not used to reacting to a man this way, so stridently and unabashedly sexual. The memory of kissing him haunted her, and she had been deeply thankful at his thoughtfulness to maintain a certain distance away from her because of it. But that distance had somehow shrunk and it wasn't just physical, but pure emotional and she couldn't escape him, not if she wanted to finish her supper!

  Pete barked with four sharp warning barks, toe nails clicking into the room as he faced the back door, as if trouble were out there. His ruff stood up, and his chocolate brown eyes looked dark with worry.

  "It's okay, good boy, I'll go check it out." Winn pushed back his hair and hopped to his feet, unsnapping his holsters and crossing the nook like the law enforcer he was, shoulders squared, fists purposeful and full of might.

  "Keep my plate warm for me, please," he called over his shoulder as he shrugged into his jacket. His eyes didn't meet hers, and he gave her no other sign of how he felt, no other clue as to what he expected was going to happen before he told Pete to stay, opened the door and stalked out into the storm. Darkness cloaked him, stealing him from her sight, and the door snapped shut, leaving a light fall of snow tumbling to a rest against the floor.

  Pete wagged his tail, but his ruff remained up. It was impossible to see through the frosted pane of glass when she tugged the edge of the curtain away from the window frame to attempt to find him in the chaos of storm and night. But he was lost to her, cut off to her as if he'd walked a thousand miles. With a sigh, she let the curtain drop back into place. The boy had finished eating and carried his plate to the sink, where he politely set it to soak in the wash water and quietly retreated to the parlor.

  Alone again, Saydee sat back down to eat what remained of her meal.

  * * *

  She looked up from drying the platter. The house echoed with the sounds of the storm, a light blizzard but still, one that whipped, howled and raged at the house, hurling icy snow and freezing, high-speed winds.

  Winn's sensible rejection of her offer stayed on her mind and she couldn't think of one single thing to say to counter it. But she knew what she was going to do, which was all she could to help the man in the meantime. Now that she knew him better, she could see his vulnerable man's heart. This wasn't what he wanted. This solution was a terrible thing, beyond what she'd first expected.

  The orphanage boy, who'd grown up with no one's love, was still on his own. He had no one, and he'd wolfed down every single scrap of food she'd put in front of him like a man who'd known hunger one too many times. He would not be leaving her house without a packed food bag. If not for the storm, then Aunt Peg could be instrumental in her plans to feed him, the threat of gourd preserves aside, if she knew about this. There would be no stopping her, it would be hard enough as it was, once she found out about Jack staying with her. But what about Winn? Saydee sighed. She would start right now, if she had to.

  There, she heard it again, footsteps stomping and pounding on the floorboards of the back porch. The serenity and warmth of the house was shattered by a sudden whoosh of frigid wind and the loud howl of the blizzard. A door slammed shut and the wind died but the chill remained. Saydee shivered and set the platter into place on its shelf. Across the length of the counter, she saw a shadow move toward the edge of light, a moving snowman with broad shoulders and a lawman's stance.

  His snow-driven coat came off. "Whew, it feels good in here. Any chance that wonderful aroma I smell is fresh coffee?" He hung up his coat, leaving a trail of snowflakes falling all around him. He looked ghostly white from the cold, teeth chattering, his big, muscular body quaking. "Is that a yes?"

  "I nodded, didn't I? You need to warm up and thaw out. Sit down, don't worry about the stove. I just fed it a few minutes ago. Brr, you let in the chill, didn't you?"

  "I did my best to keep it out, but that wind had other ideas." The man strode out of the dark shadows, into the spill of light tumbling through the room and padded to a stop at the counter. "Is that for me?"

  His step knelled alongside her, so close she couldn't breathe, her entire brain seemed to short circuit and she could only stare at him. Attraction pelted through her like a fast wind. Goodness, but it was too impossible to think. She blinked her eyes, shocked when he took the cup she'd grabbed for him right out of her hands.

  She gulped, which was apparently her attempt to swallow. "Winn! I—"

  "You don't wait on me, pretty lady. I think you're shivering. That arctic cold outside is still clinging to me."

  "You're radiating it." She realized she was shivering, unable to hide how glad she was to look him in the eye. She wished it didn't show. "Of course I'm going to wait on you. Go sit down. I'll bring your plate. You shouldn't have gone outside."

  "I'm glad I did, although I got bumped in my forehead from the barn door getting caught on the wind and hitting me," he quipped, "but I didn't mind." For a moment, framed by the darkness on the wall behind him and caught mid-step easing into the light's reach, he looked younger, less dangerous, radiating honor and not a man who deserved his fate. "But you might toss me out of your home when you hear what I did."

  "What did you do that might tempt me to be so severe?"

  "Good, I'm glad you're laughing. I see that smile in your eyes." He moseyed up to the table, all muscle and might.

  He's stolen my breath away. She stumbled back a step, heart knocking with fear when she should not be afraid at all, not of Winn and not of caring for him. He crowded close to open the oven door, so near she could breathe in the scent of snow and winter wind on him, even as she shivered again. He seemed to lower the air temperature.

  "There's only one way to say it, so I'm just going to do it. There's a standing cow shelter behind the little barn of yours, and I opened it up since you don't have any cows." He closed the oven door and his free hand curled around her fingers, holding her tight. "So I fed them."

  Panic fluttered in her chest, not to mention surprise at the contact. Her entire being shivered. "Who?"

  "The family of moose. They startled me at first, but when I broke up a few bales of hay into the feeder along the back wall and grain in the troughs, in they came and there was no stopping them." The left corner of his mouth crooked upward at first and then he broke into a dazzling smile. "It's hard not to feel sorry for them suffering in this cold. They got surprised by the storm too, out foraging for food, I figure."

  He let go of her, striding into the shadows at the end of the counter. She attempted to draw in breath, but she couldn't stop shaking or the odd tingle of awareness on her hand from his touch.

  "Hey, there, good dog." Winn's voice dipped, warm and rumbling over the clink of the plate meeting the table. "Thanks for letting me know and for keeping an eye on things here. You are a good dog."

  Pete wagged his tail and accepted a warm pat on his head. The shepherd panted, eyes doting on the big man, who looked so dangerous but wasn't at all. Pete was putty in his hands, circling him
sweetly and then curling up at his feet on the floor, glad to be near him.

  Now what am I going to do about the man? He was nearly perfect before this, now he had to win the dog's heart. She reached for the coffee pot and an empty cup. "Are you planning on feeding the animals for the duration of your stay?"

  The edges of his smile widened. "I'll have to see what they want to do. I'm not arguing with a wild animal of that size. It might make you short on your hay for the winter."

  "I have plenty, and it's easy to have more delivered, along with grain." She set the cup on the table, amusing that Pete had decided to ignore her. He kept his adoring gaze riveted on the man, waiting for more praise and a pat. Apparently, she was not the only one in danger of losing her heart to Winn McMurphy. She reached for the sugar bowl and spooned in several generous heaps.

  His nearness burned, and she took a sip of the hot, sweet coffee. It burned deliciously across her tongue and all the way to her stomach but was unable to soothe her. Pete lifted his furry, sweet head and grinned in good, gentle humor, but the stars in his eyes were for the man he looked up to, quietly hoping for Winn's attention.

  Winn. She studied the man over the rim of her steaming cup. He intently forked crumbling good pot roast from his plate to his mouth, chewing hungrily, appreciation etched on his face as he paused to take a slurp of coffee and then work on the roasted vegetables on his plate. The clink of his fork was the only other sound in the room, the room that shrank in size because his presence seemed to dominate it. Saydee sat spell-bound by the sight of him, watching his hardened shoulders and arms move with masculine and effortless power as he lay down his fork and buttered another roll.

  "I've thought about what you said about the moose staying." He kept chewing. "I can leave you extra funds when I go to cover a future hay and grain delivery. After all, it was my decision."