Charity House Courtship (Love Inspired Historical)

by Renee Ryan

  “I want.”

  “Then stop trying to annoy me and come on.” A few moments later Marc stepped into the restaurant and waited while Trey placed his order with the maître d’hôtel. When he was through, Marc added, “Please have the food served in my office.”

  “Very good, Mr. Dupree.”

  Without waiting for Trey, Marc left the restaurant and made his way to his office.

  A few seconds later, Trey entered behind him and shouldered the door shut. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned back against the wood. “Can’t help but notice how Miss O’Connor has been the model of hard work these last three nights.”

  “She’s shown up, that’s what matters.”

  “The male guests certainly seem to enjoy her undivided attention. What do you think?”

  Marc bristled at Trey’s goading tone. “I think subtlety never was one of your finer points.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Trey tossed his hulking frame into an empty chair and set his boots on top of an expensive table.

  “Have you no decency?” Marc hissed. “I had that piece of furniture imported straight from Paris last week.”

  Pretending not to hear him, Trey leaned his head against the back of his chair. “You never did tell me what Miss O’Connor said about that outrageous salary you’re paying her.”

  Marc lifted a shoulder. “I don’t remember what she said.” The lie slid easily through his lips. He remembered every moment of every encounter he had with the woman, including the kiss they’d shared. The one that came to mind far too often.

  Trey chuckled. “She was pretty shocked, I take it?”

  “No. She was...grateful.” And that reaction warmed him clear through to his soul, reminding him of the man he used to be. A man who assisted people in need without attaching conditions to the offer. Laney O’Connor had slipped beneath his defenses and Marc wasn’t altogether sorry for it. He felt the betraying smile on his lips just before he realized it was too late to hide it from his friend.

  Trey’s eyes narrowed. “You got something you want to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “You sure about that? Don’t want to share why you haven’t bothered finding out more information about our little safecracker? Or why you won’t let me do it, either?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t want to tell me why the poor little dear couldn’t look you straight in the eye that first night of her employment, or why she keeps sliding glances toward you when you aren’t gawking at her?”

  “She doesn’t glance, she scowls.”

  “You noticed that, too?”

  Marc stifled the urge to kick Trey’s feet off the table, and not only because his boot heels were chafing off the shine. “I’m warning you, Trey.”

  “I know. I know.” Trey lifted his palm in the air. “Change the subject or get out.”

  “And here I thought you’d lost your gift of perception.”

  Trey leaned forward and picked up a glass off the table where his feet rested. He twirled it under the light and a rainbow of color shot through the air. “Lead crystal?”

  “Imported from Ireland.”

  “You’ve certainly left nothing to chance.”

  No, Marc hadn’t. “What’s your point?”

  Trey set the glass back on the table. “Who said there was a point?”

  Answering the rhetorical question was beneath them both, so Marc waited for his friend to continue.

  “Over the last five years I’ve traveled across most of the West.” He dropped his feet to the ground and leaned forward, his eyes glassy as he gathered his thoughts. “The Hotel Dupree has no rival, except maybe in San Francisco. But even there, I’m not so sure.”

  “I planned it that way.”

  “Why go to so much expense?” Trey asked.

  “You know the answer.”

  “Pearl.” Trey spat the word as a curse. “Is she the reason for all this opulence?”

  Furious at his friend’s lack of understanding, Marc paced through the room in hopes of settling his anger. “This has nothing to do with Pearl.”

  “No? Then tell me why all this.” He waved his hand in a wide arc.

  Marc stopped pacing and swung around to glare at his friend. “You of all people should understand, especially after what we went through in Louisiana after the war.”

  “You still riding that horse?” Trey cocked his head. “That was fourteen years ago.”

  “Look, Trey—”

  “No, you look, Marc. Look around you. Look real hard and tell me what you see.”

  “I don’t have to look around to know that I like what I’ve created here.”

  “What you’ve created? Do you hear yourself?” Trey rested his elbows on his knees, his eyes filled with genuine concern. “You’re talking blasphemy.”

  “Blasphemy?” Marc drew in a tight breath. Quelling his temper was becoming harder by the second. “You’re overstating matters.”

  “Am I? You used to know where your blessings came from, Marc.”

  “I still do. Hard work, focused discipline and ruthless drive.”

  Trey snorted. “Go ahead and tell yourself that, but I know better. You’re worshipping the creation of your own hands instead of the Creator.”

  The man might as well have gut-punched him, which had been Trey’s goal. Too late, Marc remembered why he hated these heart-to-heart talks with his friend. “This, from you? You haven’t stepped inside a church in five years.”

  “No, I haven’t. But we aren’t talking about me, we’re talking about you and why you refuse to turn back to God.”

  “Do I look like I care what you think about me or my relationship with the Lord?”

  Trey went on as though he hadn’t spoken. “Everywhere I look I see shocking displays of wealth.”

  Marc shrugged.

  “But do you want to know what I really see? Things.”

  Waiting for his friend to continue, Marc barely concealed his impatience. This wasn’t a new conversation between them, and he was getting sorely tired of Trey’s condemnation. But the marshal remained silent, as if there was nothing more to say on the matter.

  Well, Marc wasn’t finished. “That’s right, Trey. I have things. Nice things that bring comfort and security, not only to me but my employees as well.” He paused for a moment, then dug deep into the bitterness rooted inside his soul. “As firstborn sons, our futures were secure. We were destined to be planters, like our fathers and their fathers and their fathers before them. Then the war came and we lost everything.”

  Trey ran his fingertip across the lip of the glass, studying the crystal as though it was a complicated puzzle waiting to be solved. “I’d say you’re a long way from poverty, my friend.”

  “What do you know about it? You own a pair of six-shooters, a tin star and a horse.”

  “I...know.”

  The whispered response cut deep and Marc flinched at the realization of his insensitivity toward his friend’s loss. At what they’d both lost with a single rifle shot. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  Cutting him off, Trey raised his hand between them. “The people that come with your wealth aren’t real. They only want what you can give them. What kind of future can be found here?”

  “I’ll never be poor again. That’s my future.”

  “I find it necessary to point out that you said that once before. And then you met Pearl.”

  Marc’s jaw clenched. With great effort he forced himself to relax. “Pearl might have run off with my first fortune, but no woman will ever steal from me again.”

  “You know, Marc, if you weren’t so bent on comparing the two you’d see that Miss O’Connor is different from Pearl.” Trey searched Marc’s face with the shrewd skill of a lawman. “But I’d say you already know about their differences.”

  “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”

  “Maybe not all of it.” Trey shook his head. “But I’ve noticed how you watc
h Miss O’Connor.”

  Marc hated that smug tone. “How do I watch her?”

  “Like you can’t stop thinking about her, can’t stop wondering what it would be like to know her better.” Trey laughed. “Like it or not, my friend, you look at Miss O’Connor as if she’s the only person in the room.”

  “If I do look at her more than anyone else it’s because I need to keep an eye on her. Laney O’Connor can’t be trusted,” Marc said. “Didn’t she prove that the other night in my office?”

  “She’s definitely clever. And wily—”

  “So we agree.”

  Trey frowned. “Not completely. She’s also a woman of integrity.”

  “All of a sudden you know her so well?”

  “I’ve watched her these last three nights, too.”

  Marc pretended the spasm of white-hot jealousy was just a trick of his imagination. “Have you now?”

  “I’d stake my life on the fact that she took that money from Judge Greene for a good reason. Have you even asked her why she needed it?”

  “I’ve asked, ten times at least.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “She didn’t say. She just stared at her toes or made a glib remark or pretended she didn’t hear the question or...well, you get the idea.”

  “Ask her again.”

  Marc swallowed back a quick retort. Trey had no understanding of women like Laney since the only woman he’d truly known had been pure and sweet, made to share his life. Trey was comparing Laney to the wrong woman. “I don’t need to ask her again. She took a large sum of money from a man in a clandestine manner. If she’d had a good reason to do so she’d have told me already.”

  “If you really thought that, she’d be out of your life by now,” Trey pointed out. “Deep down, you know I’m right.”

  “I see you’re determined to defend her.” And there went that spasm in his gut again.

  Trey started to open his mouth, seemingly rethought his words then started again. “Hasn’t she shown up every night on time and worked to the end of her shift without complaint? That says a lot about her character.”

  “You’re putting more into her actions than her behavior warrants.”

  “It’s my job to make quick judgments on a person’s character. As far as Laney O’Connor goes, I’d say she needs your protection, not your lack of trust.”

  Marc didn’t like what Trey said, didn’t like that he desperately wanted to believe his friend was right about Laney. Before meeting the woman, he hadn’t realized how tired he’d become of meeting disreputable characters, tired of never finding that one person in the world he could trust. The part of him that wanted to believe in Laney warred with the part of him that needed to shun all she appeared to be.

  Under the circumstances he did the only thing he could. He attacked Trey. “You have the gall to tell me Laney needs protection? What do you know about it? All you know is vengeance. Ever since Ike Hayes killed Laurette, you’ve lived for nothing else.”

  Trey slammed a fist into his palm. “She was my wife.”

  “And she was my sister.”

  Shoulders slumped, Trey sank farther into his chair. “We’ve been through this too many times to start again.”

  “I miss her, too, Trey.”

  “Then leave it alone.”

  Marc choked down his own pain. What he had to say was too important to hold back the words any longer. “I can’t. If she knew what you’d become, her heart would break. It’s been three years. Let go of the past.”

  Bitterness filled the other man’s eyes. “Like you’ve done?”

  Marc said nothing. Trey was right. He hadn’t let go of the past any more than his brother-in-law had. In this, they were the same.

  Unable to find the words to soothe Trey’s grief, Marc watched helplessly as the man rose from his chair and went to the mantel. As though he didn’t realize what he was doing Trey’s touch gentled the moment his finger ran along the frame surrounding the photograph of Laurette. A shuddering sigh slipped out of him.

  “We aren’t talking about me anymore, or Laurette.”

  Trey pulled his hand to his side, clenching his fingers into a tight fist. After a moment he turned back to face Marc, all expression cleared from his eyes. This was familiar ground for them, both too filled with pain to continue discussing the woman they’d each loved too much and lost too soon.

  “Listen, Marc. Take your own advice and move on. Stop letting money mean so much to you and start living your life as the godly man you were meant to be.”

  The need for honesty overruled any desire to defend himself. “My life isn’t all about money.”

  “No? Then give Miss O’Connor however much she needs. No questions asked. Let her have the money free and clear, without making her work for it.”

  Marc thought hard about Trey’s suggestion. Ever since he’d pulled Laney into his arms and discovered she held secrets in her lips that called to a part of him no woman had ever touched, he’d considered helping her out of whatever spot she’d gotten herself into.

  But something in him, the part the war had pillaged and Pearl had helped destroy, couldn’t let go of everything he’d come to believe. One earth-shattering kiss didn’t mean Laney was worthy of his trust.

  A knock interrupted his thoughts. Trey’s dinner had arrived. Grateful for the distraction, Marc called out, “Enter.”

  The door cracked opened and a very lovely head spilled through the tiny opening. “I need to talk to you.”

  Just for a moment, Marc allowed himself to enjoy the rush of pleasure elevating his body temperature at Laney’s habit of looking him straight in the eye.

  “Come in.” He barely managed to hold back his grin. “We were just discussing you.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “We?”

  Marc indicated Trey with a nod of his head.

  She took a step forward then halted as her eyes focused on the U.S. Marshal badge clipped to Trey’s chest. “Oh. Um. I’ll just leave you two to finish your business. What I have to talk about can wait.”

  She backed out of the room but Marc pressed forward and caught up with her. “I said come in, Laney. It’s long past time you officially met the esteemed marshal.”

  Popping her head back into the room, her wary eyes filled with frustration. And a good dose of trepidation. “I’d rather not tonight.”

  Marc reached out, clasped her arm and urged her back inside. “All the more reason for me to insist.”

  She batted at his hand. “Perhaps another time?”

  “Now works for me.”

  The flash of alarm in her eyes made all the agony he’d suffered since he’d first met her much easier to swallow.

  Time for a little fun.

  Chapter Eleven

  The last thing Laney expected when she’d knocked on Marc’s office door was to encounter Marshal Scott’s very large person. Over the last three days her avoidance of the lawman had been nearly flawless, a work of artistry and manipulation that would appall Katherine but made Laney rather proud.

  Even now, she might have thought of a way to continue avoiding this inevitable meeting but for Marc’s disdainful behavior. When she considered his performance of only seconds before, ill-mannered was the word that came to mind.

  With perhaps more frustration than sense, she pushed aside care and strode into his office with her best imitation of nobility.

  Hands on hips, she stared down her upturned nose. “Look, Marc, I get what you’re trying to do.” She threw a scowl at the Marshal, then turned back around. “Let’s forgo the charade. We both know if you wanted to send me to jail, for taking what was mine, you would have tried to do so by now.”

  The marshal laughed outright. “Well, now. Beautiful and smart.”

  Marc sneered at his friend but aimed his words at her. “If you’re so confident you know what I will or will not do, why bother coming back to work every night?”

  Deciding to go with the truth, she lifted h
er chin higher. “I need the money.”

  “Hate to say it, Marc, but I told you that was the case.”

  Marc cut the marshal another hard glare. “Shut up, Trey.”

  Laney bit back her own suggestion as to what the marshal could do with his opinions. Staggering as the notion seemed, for once she and Marc were in complete agreement. The last thing she needed right now was an interfering U.S. marshal.

  “So, what did you need?” Dupree asked her.

  “Since the front desk has been slow all evening Rose suggested I head home. But I need your approval first. So here I am, asking. May I leave?”

  Marc just stared at her, a grin twitching at the corner of his lips. When she realized he wasn’t going to answer her request, Laney sighed. “Is that yes or no?”

  Releasing a smug smile, he chuckled at her. “Pushy, aren’t you?”

  It was a shame that boyish grin on his oh-so-handsome face took the punch right out of her anger. “Fine. I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “Not so fast. I’m still weighing my decision.”

  Well, of course he was. In the face of that all that masculine arrogance, Laney nearly gave into her frustration. Tired from a full day at the orphanage and an even fuller night at the hotel, she considered telling a certain hotel owner and his pesky U.S. marshal sidekick what she thought of them both.

  All night, they’d watched her from their usual vantage point in the lobby. She’d tried not to notice them, but the two together were hard not to notice. If a girl were the romantic sort—which, praise God, Laney was not—she’d be hard-pressed to ignore such a pair. There was the dark and brooding one, the marshal badge adding a hint of respectability to his roguish good looks.

  And the other?

  As she eyed Dupree now, she realized he was equally as handsome as his friend, but his refined elegance made him much more intimidating to her. And that frightened Laney more than she cared to admit. Never before had a man held so much authority over her emotions, especially one who made it clear what he thought of her character.

  “Why not just give me your answer?” To her mortification, she couldn’t keep the shake out of her voice. “May I go or not?”

  “You all square with Rose?”