An Outlaw to Protect Her

by Harper St. George

  A clouded glass bottle sat backed up to the mirror, and he picked it up. Bringing it to his nose, he closed his eyes as he inhaled the familiar scent of her perfume. It always lingered behind her, lying faintly in the air when she passed, sweetly calling him to his doom. The usual warning sounded in his head, warring with the desire that had flared to life within him. No matter how he reminded himself of the premonition, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to inhale that scent directly from her skin.

  He shook his head at the thought. In all the years that had passed since he’d left his mother’s people, he’d never quite been able to shake the words from his memory. His aunt had told him before she’d sent him away to his father that roses were bad for him because she’d seen it in a dream. That warning had stayed with him for years. He’d never even seen a rose before she’d told him that. She’d drawn a tightly budded flower in the dirt to show him, but he hadn’t been able to tell much from it. He’d grown up avoiding every flower he came into contact with. Now that he was older, he couldn’t decide if what she’d told him was real or something she’d imagined, but he still couldn’t shake the premonition that came over him.

  He put the bottle back and forced himself to walk to the armoire and look inside. Empty but for stacks of brightly colored silks and satins. It was the same beneath her bed. A couple of wooden boxes were stored there, and he realized that he’d give his eyeteeth to know what was inside—evidence of who Glory really was. But he wouldn’t intrude on her privacy any further than he already had.

  Turning the light off behind him, he moved back into the parlor. From his vantage point he noticed a wooden frame on top of a spindly table. The frame held a single rose pressed between two small panes of glass. He walked over and picked the frame up out of its little stand to examine it closer. The rose was dried, its petals various shades of faded pink.

  A warning? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t leave Glory to fight this battle on her own. The rose was a reminder that he could help her, but he needed to keep his distance. Setting the frame back down in its stand, he walked back to her study.

  “It’s empty. Doesn’t look like anyone’s been in there.”

  Glory gave a firm nod as if that was exactly what she’d expected him to find. He had to admit that he’d been a little brash, but the idea of someone hiding in her rooms ready to harm her had sent him barreling forward.

  “We were talking about next steps,” Hunter offered. “I’ll check into the bank account tomorrow.”

  “And I can question the staff about who might have had access to this room,” Able added.

  “I can help with that,” Zane said. It was no secret that most people were afraid of him. His height combined with the scar and his longer hair effectively kept most people at a distance. Over the years they’d been riding together as the Reyes Brothers, it had quickly become apparent that Zane was the most effective of the group when it came to interrogation. He always got the information he needed. His record was flawless, not counting the night they’d met Emmaline, but then she’d eventually married Hunter, so he didn’t count her.

  “No need, Pierce. I can handle it.” Able gave him a firm look.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, Able. I’m happy to help.” Zane smirked just to rile up Able’s irrational distaste of him. There’d never been one incident that Zane could trace back to the origin of that dislike. It just was, like Zane’s fascination with Glory.

  “I can handle it.” Able crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I have more experience in these things than you,” Zane countered.

  “Gentlemen.” Glory’s voice cracked through the room. “There’s enough staff for you both. The last thing we need right now is you two at each other’s throats.”

  Able stepped back and dropped his arms, conceding her point. Zane gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. She was right. There was no need to make the task before them more difficult.

  She sighed, calming herself. “I only ask that you make your inquiries discreet. I don’t want to give fuel to any rumors that may start.” That seemed a simple enough request, but then she narrowed her eyes at him. “That means no dragging anyone into the cellar. No tying anyone up. No assaulting anyone.”

  Zane bit back a grin. She was referring to the man Derringer had paid to find Castillo. They’d caught him lurking around last week and brought him to Victoria House’s cellar for questioning. “As you wish, but I can’t be responsible for a lack of results with my methods inhibited.” He was teasing her. Those methods he usually reserved for criminals or people actively trying to kill him.

  She stared at him as if trying to determine if he was joking. He wasn’t about to clue her in to whether he was or not, so he continued since he had her attention. “Until we know who sent this letter, I think it’s best if you’re never alone. We don’t know who this person is, or if it’s the very same person you both ran away from...” Zane paused because he knew what he said next would rile her. “I’ll stay with you until we get this settled.”

  “Stay with me?” Her mouth dropped open slightly.

  “Until we figure out who this is and if he or she is dangerous.” He nodded.

  She tensed to refuse, but Able interrupted her. “Pierce is right.”

  Zane stared at him, surprised that he’d so easily gotten the man’s endorsement.

  “Absolutely not!” Glory gaped at her friend as if he’d just sided with the devil himself.

  “Someone got into your office,” explained Able. “What’s to say that they can’t get into your room tonight?”

  She blinked as if she hadn’t even considered the possibility and closed her mouth.

  “But it won’t be Pierce,” Able added. “I’ll stay.”

  “No, Able.” Glory stood up and closed the distance between them. “What about Clara? She’s due to go into labor soon, and she’s on bedrest. She needs you around at night.”

  “Labor isn’t likely for a few more weeks, according to the midwife.” Able shrugged. “I can ask one of the women to sleep over while I’m gone.”

  Glory shook her head. “Whoever knows who I am, knows who you are too. What if they try to find you in your rooms, only to find Clara alone?”

  Able frowned, the grooves on his forehead deepening. He ran a hand over his head, a tell that he was agitated.

  Finally, after a tension-filled moment, Glory sighed. “It’s too much trouble for something that’s likely to amount to nothing more than you and Mr. Pierce being overprotective, but, in the interest of safety, we have no choice.” She looked over at Zane, giving him the distinct impression that he was her second choice for the task. “Thank you, Mr. Pierce, for your offer. It pains me to admit it, but I’d feel better having someone around. Just in case.”

  Zane inclined his head and she gave him an impersonal smile as she retook her seat and focused her attention on Hunter. Hunter was smiling as if he’d enjoyed the little drama playing out before him. Zane sat down as they continued to discuss possible ways the account could be traced and took a moment to regather his composure. He was trying, but no matter how hard he thought of the possible danger ahead he couldn’t stop dwelling on the fact that he’d be spending an awful lot of time with her in the coming days. Time that he could use to figure out the enigma that was Glory Winters, and to try to get to the bottom of their connection.

  Able moved around Glory’s desk, catching Zane’s eye. He jerked his head toward the window, indicating that Zane should come over so they could talk. Curious, Zane rose and tried to seem casual so he wouldn’t draw Glory’s attention since Able seemed to want to keep this encounter private. Crossing his arms over his chest, Zane stared at the dark windows of the general store down the street. All the buildings in this area of town were humble and modest, except for Victoria House.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Able said, he stood so close that Za
ne could smell peppermint on his breath.

  “And what is that?” Zane asked without looking at him.

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  Zane couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the older man to see if that was jealousy in his voice. He’d always assumed that the relationship between Glory and Able was more of a familial connection. No, not jealousy. Concern and protectiveness were shining in Able’s eyes. “And?” He couldn’t help but prod.

  “And she’s not here for your amusement. Don’t think you’re the first one to come in here and leave a besotted fool. I’ve been told about the betting book at the gentleman’s club across town.” Able sneered as he said the term gentleman as if the word couldn’t be further from the truth. Zane had to concede the man was right. He’d been in Helena a handful of times and never come across an actual gentleman, despite the fancy clothes some of the men wore.

  The book Able referred to was notorious for having outrageous bets. They ranged in scope from the size of a heifer’s first calf to the price of gold at some specified date in the future to the color of a particular lady’s undergarments. Zane had heard of the particular bet Able referred to. A few fine upstanding men of Helena had wagered on which one of them would be the first to bed Glory. He didn’t doubt it was real. Anger burned in his belly as he thought of them betting on her. “Let me ask you something, Able... You ever seen that book yourself?”

  Able gave him a stony look. Zane held his hand up against the window. Dim light streamed in from the street, backlighting his hand so that his skin appeared very dark, though not as dark as Able’s. Neither of them would be welcomed in that particular club. “I don’t have a bet in that book.”

  “You don’t have to have a bet in that book to see her as a challenge,” Able countered.

  “I’ve known her for years and I’ve never once been disrespectful to her. Why would I start now?”

  “Like I said, I see how you look at her and I can guess your thoughts. Keep your hands to yourself and we won’t have any problems.” With those words, Able walked away to rejoin Hunter and Glory’s conversation.

  Zane stayed at the window, trying to get his racing heart under control. He wanted to tell Able that it wasn’t like that, but it would be a lie. He wanted to bed her just as badly as any of those other men. As he stood there, seething from Able’s rebuke, he was having a hard time figuring out what exactly separated him from those other men. He couldn’t have anything with her aside from a quick tumble in bed.

  He was an outlaw. While the gang would likely disperse because they’d found the enemy who’d brought them all together to start with and Castillo and Hunter were both recently married, it didn’t change the fact that Zane was still a wanted man. While it was unlikely he’d be tracked down all the way to Helena, it was always possible. He had nothing to offer her.

  Aside from that, loving Christine had taught him a harsh lesson that he would never forget. There wasn’t enough love in the world to keep a person from betraying another. Eventually love ran out, or something more important came along. He didn’t want any sort of relationship that involved anything more than physical pleasure. Once had been enough. It wasn’t worth the eventual pain.

  So no, he couldn’t offer her more than any of those men planned to offer her. But he could respect her. None of those gentlemen would give her that. It wasn’t much, but it was enough of a distinction that he felt a little better. He would keep his hands to himself, but only if she wanted him to. It would always be her choice, and if she chose to spend a night or two with him, then Able would have to accept that.

  Chapter Five

  Glory didn’t know how it had happened, but she’d somehow reverted to the role of thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. Zane stood across the room, leaning against the window molding as he watched her. Hunter and Able had just left, so they were very much alone. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and her hand went to her stomach to calm the wild beatings of their wings. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, wasn’t doing anything but looking at her, and she couldn’t seem to keep hold of the thoughts wandering around her head.

  Gripping the solid edges of her desk, she tried to keep her hold on reality. This was still her home and she was still in charge. “Thank you for staying,” she said, doing her best not to look directly at him. Her hands as flighty as her thoughts, she shuffled some papers around on her desk until they were all precisely lined up.

  Zane took his time walking back over to the chair across from her. The man moved as if he wasn’t well over two hundred pounds. He was all sinew and strength, but without the lumbering that sometimes came with that muscle. “Can I see the letter for myself?” he asked when he’d taken a seat in the wingback chair across from her.

  She nodded and handed it over without touching him. If he thought her behavior odd, he didn’t mention it as his gaze skimmed over the letter. She couldn’t help but watch him as he did so. He wasn’t classically handsome like Hunter, but his ruggedness and quiet intensity, combined with his even features, somehow made him even more attractive. At least to her. She’d never cared for the look of a polished gentleman. She’d had that before and knew the treachery often hidden in the perfect package.

  Zane was real. Her gaze touched the high arch of his cheekbones, the tiny lines around his eyes, and the strong line of his jaw. For the first time she wondered how old he was. He didn’t have the deeper lines that came with age, but his eyes seemed intelligent in a way that made her think he’d seen a lot in his life. She respected that. Most of the men who came into Victoria House had struck it rich because they’d gotten lucky with a claim to a mine. They thought luck and money somehow translated to being clever and knowledgeable.

  Zane was different. Something told her that he’d lived more than almost all of them. He glanced up from the letter, and she wasn’t able to look away before he caught her watching him. She offered him a slight smile in the hopes that he thought her interest was only casual. But when he spoke, she couldn’t stop herself from watching his full lips shape each word. “You’re sure that no one here knows who you are?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never told anyone. Only Able knows.”

  “What about Clara? Would he have told her?”

  She realized now why he’d waited for Able to leave to begin this line of questioning. “No, Able knows how important it is to keep our secret. He wouldn’t tell her.”

  Zane raised a brow, looking doubtful. “She’s his wife. Don’t you think she’d want to know about his past?”

  It wasn’t an illogical question, but Zane didn’t know why they’d run or what was at stake. If he did, he’d understand that no one could know. Able stood to lose just as much as she did. “I trust Able. Besides, he doesn’t want our secrets to get out any more than I do. The consequences are...too much.”

  His jaw clenched and she wasn’t certain if it was because he was angry at her or the situation. She didn’t know him well enough to say, a detail that was as fortunate as it was regrettable. Some long-buried part of her wanted to know him. To really know who he was as a person, as someone she could trust...as a man. That last thought made her belly flutter again, forcing her to look away. He was so astute, she had no doubt he would know what she was feeling.

  “You don’t think Able would—”

  “No!” Despite herself, she met his gaze fully, determined to extinguish any suspicion against Able. “He wouldn’t betray me.”

  “I wouldn’t think so, but we have to consider all options.”

  She shook her head more firmly. “He wouldn’t do this. He’d have no motive anyway.”

  “Five thousand dollars is a lot of motive.”

  She scoffed. “Trust me, Able doesn’t need the money.”

  “No? He’s married now and has a baby on the way. He might not have needed the money but things change.” He paused, adding in
a softer voice, “Love has a way of changing people.”

  He looked so resolute when he said that, that she wondered from what sort of experience he was speaking. He had a quiet, almost dangerous appeal that would attract many women, but she couldn’t imagine the hard man across from her being tender enough to have ever experienced an emotion as sentimental as love. She’d seen his loyalty to Hunter and Castillo and conceded that it was a type of love. A brotherhood. But it wasn’t romantic love and she couldn’t see him ever allowing himself to experience that.

  “I suppose it can, but in this instance it hasn’t.”

  “How do you know?” he asked.

  “Because Able has all the money he could want,” she explained.

  Zane sat back as he mulled over her words. “He does have fine clothes. Satin waistcoats. Wool suits. I always thought it was part of the uniform required to work here. I didn’t realize that he was so well compensated.”

  “It is a requirement of the position, but you’ve got it all wrong. He doesn’t simply work here. He’s part owner of Victoria House.” Correctly reading the shocked expression on his face, she said, “You’re surprised.”

  “A little.”

  “It’s understandable. Everyone assumes I’m the sole owner and we let them think that because it’s easier. When we first arrived here... Well, let’s just say that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Able.” That was an understatement. She’d be dead by now if not for Able. It was because of him that she’d left South Carolina and ended up in Helena, though the Helena part had been serendipity. “Able and I worked hard together to make Victoria House what it is today. When the madam retired she left it to us both.”

  While Glory kept up the running of the business side of things, Able took care of the house itself. He knew everyone in it and where they were at any given time. He made sure there was never any trouble with the patrons. The letter must be a particular sore spot for him since it had appeared on his watch.