An Outlaw to Protect Her

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An Outlaw to Protect Her Page 8

by Harper St. George


  “And yet no one else had access to your study.”

  He tossed the words out there so casually. She knew that he had to be right, but at the same time she couldn’t fathom someone conspiring with this secret person. When she realized he was simply standing there, she gestured toward the sofa. “Please have a seat.” Exchanging verbal barbs with Zane wouldn’t get this problem fixed, so she planned to drop the subject.

  He didn’t move right away. Instead he stared down at her as if trying to solve a puzzle. “I never realized how close you were with the children in the boardinghouse.”

  She shrugged. She’d tried not to get too close to anyone there. Most of the people she helped stayed at the boardinghouse for only a few weeks or months. It seemed pointless to form attachments. But she hadn’t been able to figure out a way to keep herself from the children, especially those who lived here full-time. She’d seen them grow up from babies.

  Before she could answer, someone knocked on the door. Zane made to answer it, but she got there first. This was still her home. He gave her a look of dismay but allowed her to open it. To her surprise, Beth, one of the kitchen staff, stood there holding an oversize tray.

  “You ordered a plate to be sent up for supper?” the girl asked when Glory simply stared at her.

  “Of course.” She’d nearly forgotten that she’d stopped by that morning to give the order, preparing to spend most of the evening in her room reading since business would be slow. She’d hoped, perhaps naively, that Zane would be gone by now and the mystery solved. What surprised her now, however, was that there were clearly two plates on the tray.

  Catching her eye going to the second one, Beth gave a shy smile and said, “I thought your gentleman might be hungry too.”

  Glory’s face flamed as she realized that rumors had already spread to the staff. Instead of commenting on it, she stepped back and Beth walked into the room to set both plates on the table. If Beth thought that he’d want a plate, did she also know that he’d spent the night here last night? It seemed a silly thing to worry about. She was a brothel owner, they were in a brothel, but the idea of everyone thinking that she and Zane had slept together twisted her up inside.

  After Beth had unloaded the plates laden with food, the bread basket, a pitcher of water and two glasses, she turned back to them and seemed to read the awkwardness in the room. “Did I misunderstand? Is he not eating here?” When no one answered immediately, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and turned back to the table. “I’m sorry. I’ll take the extra plate away.”

  Finally gathering her senses, Glory rushed forward. Zane was apparently allowing her to take the lead in how to handle this with the staff. She needed to act casually so as not to stir up unneeded drama. In the end, it really didn’t matter if anyone thought they were seeing each other in a way that wasn’t business-related or not. The only one who seemed torn up about it was her. “No, it’s fine and very thoughtful of you, Beth. Thank you.”

  The girl paused but glanced over her shoulder as if to ask if she was certain. Glory gave her a nod and an encouraging smile. “Thank you,” she said again. “I’m sure Mr. Pierce is hungry.”

  They both looked to him for confirmation, but he was staring at Glory with a strange expression on his face. Amusement mixed with something she couldn’t name. Something that had her breath catching as her stomach tilted.

  “If you’re sure...” Beth said.

  Glory assured her again that she was and showed her out. When she turned around, Zane had made his way to the table, eyeing the beefsteak on his plate as if he were famished. She found that she was a little jealous to have lost his focus and immediately admonished herself. She kept going back and forth with what she wanted from him, which was driving her mad. She was always in control of herself and what she wanted. This was an entirely new situation for her and she was disappointed that she wasn’t handling it very well. She wanted him, yes, but she couldn’t have him. It was simple.

  Pulling in a deep, fortifying breath, she took her seat at the table, noting how he waited until she was seated comfortably to take his own. Her stomach rumbled as she took in the bounty of food before her. Beefsteak, creamed peas, roasted potatoes and a steaming basket of bread. Fresh baked bread slathered in butter was her absolute favorite, so she picked up one of the small loafs and took a bite.

  He hesitated before picking up his knife and fork. “Are you certain you don’t mind me eating here?”

  Why was everyone questioning her certainty so much lately? Deep down she knew it was because of him. Or more appropriately her reaction to him. Because she couldn’t keep her head straight with him around. “Of course.”

  She must’ve torn off a piece of her bread rather savagely, because his eyebrow rose and his lips twitched before he finally cut into his steak and brought the bite to his mouth. She couldn’t help but watch how his full lips closed around the fork, and the way his eyes half closed as the flavor hit his tongue. She’d never been so jealous of an eating utensil in her life. His tongue came out to swipe over his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but imagine that tongue tasting her own lips, tasting other parts of her. Would he be as focused on her as he was on his meal? The question did outlandish things to her belly.

  How did he do this to her? He was simply a man like any other man. And he’d be gone soon, a tiny voice inside her said, so she’d better look while she had the chance.

  Catching her watching him, he said, “The food’s as excellent as always.”

  The dryness of her mouth made it impossible to stay anything, so she nodded a little too vehemently and grabbed her water glass. As she drank she resolved not to look at him anymore.

  They ate in silence for a while. Finally, when he’d finished his steak and she was halfway through hers, he said, “Tell me more about the children.”

  “There’s not much to tell.” She did her best to focus on the food on her plate as she spoke. “Sarah has grown up here as have Emily and Edward.”

  “You seem partial to the twins.”

  Had he watched her from the hallway? “Their mother recently left to marry a man in Chicago. He was a customer here and they kept up a correspondence after he returned home. One thing led to another and...well, you know how things go.” Glory was genuinely happy for their mother, but at the same time she had a terrible feeling about it all. “The twins have been sad since she left, so I try to give them extra attention.” Lord knows how bereft she’d felt when her own mother had abandoned her, and Glory had been fourteen at the time. She couldn’t imagine how a child of four must feel. Alone, scared, heartbroken.

  “He’s not the children’s father?”

  She shook her head. “No, their father is long gone. We haven’t seen nor heard from him since before they were born.”

  He seemed pensive as he took a drink of water. When he swallowed he asked, “Why didn’t she take them with her?”

  Glory sat down her fork, attempting to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat. She’d been concerned ever since their mother had asked if they could stay for a while, until she got settled in Chicago. A part of her had wondered then if the time would ever come when she’d send for them or if her new husband would disapprove of having them around. “She wanted to get settled before sending for them, but it’s been months now and though she’s sent letters, she’s not mentioned having them join her.”

  “You think she’s going to abandon them.” It wasn’t a question. Anyone with a working brain could tell what was happening.

  “I hope that’s not the case, but I fear that it is.”

  “What will you do?” Lines formed between his handsome brows as he asked that—how could anyone’s brows be handsome? She was annoyed at herself, which was quickly followed by frustration. Frustration with herself. Frustration with the twins’ mother. Frustration with him for being so nosy. She wanted to ask him what bus
iness was it of his, but at the same time she wanted to tell him everything—every fear and worry that she had.

  Staring into his dark brown eyes she had the feeling that he would welcome that, which immediately soothed her pique. “I’ll keep them, of course. Or perhaps I’ll send them away to a boarding school. Maybe they’ll have a better chance at life that way without the taint of a brothel soiling them.” Lord knew that everyone in Helena would never let them forget they were brothel children if they stayed here.

  “You want them to stay though?” he asked, correctly reading what she didn’t want to say.

  “They’re very clever children. I’d like them to stay, but that wouldn’t be in their best interest I’m afraid.” She took a bite of creamed peas before she could say anything more. She’d come to realize a long time ago that the people she encountered in this life were transient. Victoria House wasn’t a place where anyone came to stay forever. Everyone left eventually, except Able, and now that Clara was going to have a baby soon, Glory had started to wonder when they’d leave. This was her home and she loved it, but even she could admit this wasn’t a place to raise children.

  Not that children would ever be in her future. He had made sure of that. And it seemed her current profession precluded even the option of adopting children. She’d yet to become accustomed to all the ways life could be unfair. Her independence came at a heavy price. When she realized that her hand was absently rubbing the scar hidden beneath her gown on her belly, she discreetly put it back on the table.

  If he’d noticed, he didn’t say anything and simply stared at her. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to stop, she met his gaze, but she couldn’t speak immediately. There was that look again, the one that saw everything. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest. “Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” he said, his voice low and intimate.

  “Like you see things in me.” It was an odd way to say it, but it was the truth. He looked at her as if he could see everything that she was.

  If he thought her wording was strange, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he simply said, “Perhaps because I do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Zane couldn’t learn enough about the woman across the table to sate his curiosity about her. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know. She’d surprised him at nearly every turn.

  Every day she dressed impeccably in gowns straight out of Paris. Her hair was always styled with not one strand out of place. She spoke in a way that was careful and articulate, her accent softening the edges of her words. She wore cosmetics in a way that enhanced her natural beauty. She was someone who seemed ageless. The knowledge in her eyes could’ve been that of someone twice her age, but her face was youthful. As a result, he’d had no idea how old she was or what sort of life she’d had. To Zane, someone who prided himself on his ability to read people, she’d been a mystery.

  Today he’d learned that she’d been little more than a child when she’d landed on the front stoop of Victoria House, and somehow she and Able had made this place what it was today. She’d arrived here with nothing and was now legitimately one of the wealthiest landowners in town and she wasn’t even thirty years old. He couldn’t pretend to know what she’d been through in her life, but he could appreciate the strength it had taken to get to where she was.

  His own life was much different than what he’d thought it would be as a child. He didn’t believe that she’d ever imagined ending up here. In that way they were the same. Transplanted by life, they’d both had to adapt to things they’d have never thought to face. Yet in some ways they were worlds apart. Her stable life here was nothing like his life spent out under the stars, chased by other outlaws, by the law, by people who hated him because he was marked with the look of his mother’s people.

  He didn’t know what life had in store for their future, but he was a believer in counting your blessings while you had them. He preferred to live in the present. And right now he sat across from the most fascinating woman he’d ever met. Life and the Creator had brought them together. He didn’t want to question how or why or what the future might bring. He only wanted to appreciate now, visions of doom be damned.

  “You can’t possibly see anything in me that I haven’t told you.” She glanced down at her plate as if she didn’t entirely believe that.

  He blinked, having already forgotten what they’d been talking about. But it came back to him as he searched her features for some sign that she might want more than this arrangement they had. “You tell me more than you think you do,” he replied.

  She glanced up at him, her eyes worried and somehow relieved at the same time. This woman was a contradiction. “I don’t,” she whispered.

  “You tell me that you’re compassionate, caring, bold and intelligent. You’re feisty when you need to be, but mild when you don’t. You take care of everyone around you.” When he paused, she blinked and looked down at her plate again, absently toying with what was left of her food with her fork. “But no one takes care of you.”

  Her shoulders went rigid, but she didn’t argue with him.

  “I don’t know what you want though. What do you want in life?” It really wasn’t any of his business, and she had every right to tell him to go to hell, but he couldn’t help but push her a little.

  “You don’t know that?” She smiled at him, her carefully crafted mask back in place. He’d seen that mask every night downstairs. It slid into place so easily he hadn’t even recognized it for what it was at first. Now he saw that it was armor. Maybe she thought that a smile could cover up her vulnerability, that it was something she could hide behind, hiding who she really was.

  Somehow over the past week he’d been able to see behind it, and the woman he saw was even more beautiful. Giving her a grin, he said, “I know that you like to fight injustice when you see it. That disadvantaged women are of particular concern to you.”

  She shrugged and relief flashed in her eyes. “There you have it. I guess you were right, I do tell you quite a bit. It’s my hope that one day women will have an equal place in this world. That they won’t be stuck in unfortunate situations because they have to rely on someone else.”

  She was intentionally leading the conversation back to safer territory, making it about the women she helped instead of herself. He thought of what Mrs. Roarke had said to him earlier, and he had to know if it was true. It had been eating at him all day. “Because you were once in that situation? Did you have no one to help you when someone was hurting you?”

  She froze, but the truth was written on her face before she could disguise it. After a moment, she swallowed, the muscles of her long, graceful neck moving slowly. Finally, she nodded, and the relief that coursed through him was so strong he nearly sagged in his seat. He couldn’t believe that she was finally opening up to him. “It was a long time ago, but it’s how I came to be here. It’s why I’m afraid now.”

  He knew that he should take that little nugget and be thankful, but he was greedy for more. He told himself that he needed to know as much as he could to better protect her. It was true, but he wanted to know for himself. “Was it a man, Glory? Did a man hurt you?”

  To his surprise a spark of anger flashed across her features. Her eyes hardened and she said, “I never want to see him again. The way I left...”

  Her voice trailed off and Zane realized that his hands were clasped into fists on the table. He forced himself to relax them, but inside he was seething that someone had dared to hurt her.

  Visibly trying to calm herself, she took a deep breath. “I’m certain that he’s very angry with me and would love to find me.”

  “It’s been many years. Surely he’s moved on.” Despite his best intentions, his voice came out harsh and rough.

  She shook her head. “I’m certain he’s moved on, but he hasn’t forgotten. He’ll want to be
vindicated.”

  He clenched his jaw to stop himself from asking her for details. That was a line he wouldn’t cross for fear of pushing her away. His scar ached as if to remind him that they all had things in their pasts they’d rather not talk about. He wouldn’t ask for details, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to know the identity of this person to help her.

  Taking in a deep breath, he let it out slowly, hoping it would calm the anger raging inside him, but it only seemed to stoke the flame. “What’s his name?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m not telling you any more.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what happened.” He held up his hands as if to say he’d surrendered. “But I do need to know who he is. If I know, then I have a better chance at finding whoever wrote that letter.”

  “We don’t know if that letter is anything but a shot in the dark attempt at extortion.” She reminded him.

  “We don’t,” he agreed. “But if it is, then we need to know now rather than later. I can backtrack, try to find a link between whoever opened that account and the man who hurt you.”

  She was already shaking her head before he’d finished talking. “I’ll take my chances. If it’s nothing but an empty threat, then it’ll go away. If it turns out to be more than that, then we’ll face that when the time comes.”

  “Dammit, Glory.” Zane rose to his feet and began pacing, trying to work out the excess energy of his frustration. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

  She stood, her cheeks pink with her own anger and frustration. “This has nothing to do with me being stubborn. It’s just good sense. If I tell you who he is and you start making inquiries, then he could find me from those inquiries. He’s not a stupid man, Mr. Pierce, and he has means.”

  “If he’s so smart and has the money to search for you, then he will find you. There’s no if. I need to know who he is so that I can head him off.” He already regretted raising his voice, so he tried to keep his voice even.

 

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