Renee Ryan

by The Outlaw's Redemption

  The easy camaraderie she and Hunter had experienced in her classroom was back. In fact, he seemed to have visibly relaxed around her as if he was finally finished looking over his shoulder, expecting bad things to happen.

  She might as well follow suit and let go of her own anxiety. Either that, or succumb to the nerves gnawing in the pit of her stomach. She’d decided to make him fall in love with her, but was only now realizing the massive task ahead of her. Yes, he considered her part of his family, but only as Sarah’s aunt.

  Annabeth wanted more. She wanted to be Hunter’s wife, and all that that implied.

  His next words shot holes in her burgeoning dream. “I know there hasn’t been much time since we’ve discussed our arrangement, but have you thought of any woman we could hire for our housekeeper yet?”

  Our housekeeper. The equivalent of a chaperone for Annabeth. Another swift blow to her dream. “Not yet, no.”

  “I was thinking about asking Marc if he knew of anyone suitable.”

  “I’ll ask Laney, and Mrs. Smythe, too.”

  “Good idea.”

  Annabeth tried not to sigh at his even tone. She should be pleased. After all, Hunter was following through with his promise. He was actually going to do what he said he would do and provide her with a respectable life in his home.

  That’s what you’ve always wanted, a simple, uncomplicated existence with a man you can trust.

  A simple, uncomplicated existence, indeed. How could she have been so shortsighted? What an empty dream she’d had all these years. Safe, yes. Secure, absolutely. But empty, oh-so-empty.

  She twisted her hands together in her lap and shot a quick glance in Hunter’s direction. He appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, his gaze focused on the road up ahead. She shouldn’t want more from him than what he was prepared to give her, shouldn’t wish he’d care for her like she cared for him, shouldn’t...

  Ache for him.

  “Tell me about the Flying M,” she said, desperate for a distraction. “What can Sarah and I expect when we arrive at your family’s ranch?”

  A pause. A quick tightening of his grip on the reins. Then he turned his head and looked at her. “You want the long answer or the short one?”

  She thought she heard tension in his voice, but his eyes were still warm as he looked at her.

  Into her.

  Shaken all over again, she quickly glanced away and studied the scenery. They were making slow but steady progress through town. “How about something in between? Maybe start with the ranch.”

  His laugh rumbled in her ear.

  Smiling despite herself, she shifted on the carriage seat and waited for him to continue.

  “I can’t tell you about the ranch without telling you about my family, too.” A shadow fell across his face as a cloud passed overhead. “Home and family, for the Mitchell brood they’re one and the same.”

  Home and family.

  What did Annabeth know about either? What did she know about the dynamics that made up the “Mitchell brood”? Mattie had done her best as a parent, but she’d never provided Annabeth with a home, or a family.

  Mattie’s “girls” were employees. Women her mother cared about in her own way, but Mattie had been adamant that Annabeth keep herself separate from them. No friendships allowed in the brothel. No relationship with her half sister.

  She’d been so lonely growing up.

  Annabeth had carried that sense of isolation with her to school. She’d kept herself apart from the other girls in the dormitory out of habit, never allowing herself to get too close to any of them. She’d maintained her distance even after becoming a teacher at the school.

  The self-imposed separation had kept her secret safe, for a time. But her connection to a notorious Denver madam had come out, anyway. That was the problem with secrets and lies. Truth inevitably found a way to shine through the deception.

  Would Annabeth fit in with Hunter’s family?

  Did she want to fit in with them?

  Just thinking about the Mitchells—the utter definition of home and family—brought the same warm, puzzling pull she felt every time she was in Hunter’s company.

  “Annabeth? Are you listening?”

  She hadn’t been, no, not completely. “You were telling me about the ranch, the largest in the state of Colorado by thousands of acres, and how your family and the Flying M are uniquely linked.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you miss the Flying M?”

  “I miss my family more. I should have gone home years ago. No—” he shook his head fiercely “—I should never have left.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “I don’t remember now. I wanted freedom, I suppose. I wanted to make my own rules. I was headstrong, self-centered, a rule-breaker. The quintessential prodigal son who failed to recognize the many blessings right in front of me.”

  “But you’re not that man anymore.” She placed her hand on his arm. “You recognize your blessings. And just like the prodigal son, you’re returning home with a humble heart.”

  “It took me too long to return,” he whispered. “The pain I’ve left in my wake...”

  His voice trailed off, but not before Annabeth heard the regret in his voice, and the soul-deep guilt.

  Needing to soothe his pain, she moved her hand down his arm and squeezed his hand. “You know—” she squeezed again “—as a schoolteacher I’ve been given a unique insight into what makes people do the things they do.”

  He didn’t look at her directly, but he did rotate his palm to meet hers. “I bet you have.”

  Holding his hand gave her the courage to continue. “Not that I have any of this completely figured out, but one thing I’ve gleaned from the classroom is that some people can be told something once and that’s all it takes for them to retain the information. Other people have to learn their lessons the hard way.”

  “People like me?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “No. You’re absolutely right. Like I said, I’m a hardheaded man.”

  “I know.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Good to know I can always count on you to speak the truth.”

  He seemed so approachable in the muted light of the afternoon, smiling at her, revealing a part of his heart she didn’t think anyone else knew. She wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to ease away that haunted, guilt-ridden look he tried so hard to hide from the world, and her. “You’re a good man, Hunter Mitchell. I’m honored you want me to help you raise your daughter.”

  “Thank you, Annabeth.” He raised her hand to his lips. “Thank you for agreeing to come with us.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He released her hand and focused once more on the road.

  Sighing, she watched the scenery pass by with unseeing eyes. If only Hunter would let her fully into his heart, not just a small portion of it. If only he would give her—give them—a chance.

  A hopeless set of wishes, she knew. His wife Jane had been his one true love. Annabeth could only hope to be second best in his heart. She had too much of her mother in her to consider that an acceptable outcome. But she was no quitter, either.

  She would win Hunter’s heart. She just didn’t know how. Yet.

  Life is no fairy tale. Her own words flashed through her mind.

  Well, why not? Why couldn’t she have the fairy tale with Hunter?

  “We’re here.” He pulled their carriage to a stop.

  Annabeth looked around and smiled despite her inner turmoil. He’d parked the carriage near a side entrance of Mattie’s brothel, where no one would witness their coming or going. In the darkened alley the pink three-story house lost what little charm the front facade presented to the world. The building was decidedly run-down. She’d never really noticed that before.

  And if Annabeth wasn’t mistaken, the ground was moving. Rats. They loved this part of town, as much as she hated it. She really disliked the nasty little creatu
res. But she was too proud to let Hunter see her fear.

  Setting the brake with easy movements, he unfolded his large body and hopped to the ground. Coming around to her side of the carriage, he placed his hands on her waist and swung her down next to him.

  A quiver went through her entire body. Her reaction had nothing to do with the sound of tiny toenails scurrying around in the dark and everything to do with Hunter’s sure touch. He had powerful hands, strong yet capable of such tenderness.

  Again, she wondered what sort of jobs he’d held in prison. Blacksmithing, perhaps? Quarry work?

  “Ready to face your mother?” he asked.

  No. “Yes.”

  They turned toward the house at precisely the same moment, as if there’d been a silent agreement between them.

  Hunter’s hand slid around her elbow as he directed her toward the side entrance. Even in this, in their arrival at a house no decent woman would enter during the day, Hunter had considered Annabeth’s need for anonymity.

  She fell a little more in love with him. And for a dangerous moment, she struggled with two irreconcilable facts. She couldn’t have him. She had to have him.

  “Stop staring at me,” she whispered.

  “How do you know I’m staring at you?”

  “I can feel your eyes on me.” It was true. She could actually feel the heat of his gaze falling over her.

  He released a rich, throaty laugh. The sound rolled over her like a touch or maybe, a kiss. “You can feel my gaze? That must be a valuable skill for a schoolteacher.”

  “You have no idea.” She wanted to spin around and smile at him. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not when she knew what would happen when their gazes connected. Her heart would leap into her throat. Her breathing would turn shallow.

  His lips would tilt upward at an attractive angle. Amusement would dance in his eyes.

  Distance, she told herself. Keep your distance. Mattie cannot know how you feel about this man.

  Priorities set, Annabeth entered the brothel with as much stealth as possible. She instinctively moved closer to Hunter in the poorly lit hallway.

  So much for keeping her distance.

  “Is Mattie expecting you?” she asked, grateful the shadowy corridor made looking at him unnecessary.

  “She knows I’m coming.” His voice hardened slightly.

  They must have been speaking louder than Annabeth realized because Mattie threw open her door before Hunter could knock. She looked briefly at Annabeth then turned to glare at him.

  Completely unconcerned he was on the receiving end of one of her mother’s...moods, Hunter smiled pleasantly. “Good afternoon, Mattie.”

  Annabeth repressed a sigh at his goading tone. As expected, Mattie’s eyes narrowed to two, thin, angry slits.

  Hunter widened his smile in such a way that made him appear a bit wolfish. “I say,” he continued. “It’s a fine day for a serious conversation, don’t you think? Far better than, oh, say, last night or even early this morning?”

  An irritated sniff was Mattie’s only response.

  Annabeth looked from Hunter to her mother and back again. “Is there something I’m missing?”

  They ignored her question. And her, as if she wasn’t standing right there, listening to every word they said.

  Oh, yes, something was definitely going on between the two, something she didn’t fully understand. Hunter was antagonizing Mattie on a whole new level. And yet, it seemed her mother respected him all the more for his daring.

  Maybe this meeting wasn’t going to be as awful as Annabeth feared. Then again, it was never a smart idea to presuppose anything when Mattie Silks was involved.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hunter was fast losing patience with Mattie Silks. He’d allowed her the upper hand in the last day and a half, but she’d pushed him far enough. It was time she discovered exactly where he stood—and with whom.

  Before making his move, he glanced briefly at Annabeth who stood with her arms clasped around her tiny waist. He felt the loneliness coming off her, a self-imposed “pulling away” he understood all too well. Except, she was no longer alone.

  She had him.

  Perhaps she needed to know that as much as her mother did.

  He made the short trek to stand beside her. Shoulder to shoulder now, the two of them became a single unit, solidarity in their common purpose for the future.

  But Hunter wasn’t through making his point.

  Smiling tenderly into Annabeth’s eyes, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. For his own pleasure, he lingered several seconds longer than necessary.

  Mattie’s sharp intake of air confirmed his silent message had been received.

  Quirking a brow at the surly woman, he let a smirk play across his lips. He knew his behavior was in poor taste. But he wasn’t feeling especially generous at the moment. Mattie had left him to cool his heels for nearly twelve hours. And for most of today, as well.

  No denying Mattie Silks liked her control, too much to go down without a fight. Hunter readied himself for the outburst to come.

  She surprised him, though, by remaining perfectly calm as she held his gaze. “You should not have brought Annabeth with you.”

  No. He shouldn’t have. He should have tried harder to convince her to stay behind. A mistake easily remedied.

  But before he could ask Annabeth to give him a moment alone with her mother, she made her own move.

  “I insisted on joining him.” She lifted her chin at an obstinate angle. “Now that I’m here, I’m not leaving.”

  All right, then. Everyone knew where everyone else stood. He squeezed Annabeth’s hand.

  She squeezed back.

  Mattie gave a long-suffering sigh that expressed her displeasure better than words ever could. For a beat, her tough exterior slipped—just a bit—then returned with a sharp hardening of her eyes. “Annabeth, you are being uncommonly stubborn. I must speak with Hunter alone. I demand you leave us this instant.”

  “No, Mother.” The muscles in her back and shoulders went taut as she spoke. “We both know your argument is with me, not Hunter.”

  Untrue.

  Mattie’s fight was with them both. Annabeth had to know that. Of course she knew that.

  Which meant she was trying to protect him, in her own sweet way.

  Something inside him softened, turned to mush. He felt her very essence pulling him to her. She was extraordinary, special, and he couldn’t help but stare into her forthright, earnest face.

  Captivated inside those big, gorgeous eyes, his own need to protect kicked up a notch. He wanted to hustle her out of this room—out of this town—to a place where no one could hurt her. Not even her own mother.

  Especially her own mother.

  Unable to stop himself, he cupped her face and smiled. He knew touching Annabeth was a bad idea—it would only further antagonize Mattie—but he did so, anyway. He suspected the gesture revealed a portion of his heart, a portion he didn’t quite understand himself.

  He really needed to stop this madness.

  Unfortunately, Annabeth wasn’t helping matters. She was actually leaning into his palm.

  Mattie snorted. “That’s quite enough of that.”

  True. And yet...

  And yet...

  He couldn’t seem to pull his hand away from Annabeth’s lovely face.

  “Let her go, Hunter.” It was the panic he heard in Mattie’s voice that made him drop his hand.

  Annabeth was not a pawn to be used in some twisted game against her mother. She was a beautiful, warm, loving woman who deserved to be treated with respect.

  Swallowing, he took a large step away from her.

  In the next moment, Mattie proceeded to push and shove until she’d physically moved him halfway across the room.

  Seemingly satisfied she’d created enough distance between him and Annabeth, she said, “Don’t touch her again.” She thumped him on the chest. “I mean it, Hunter.”r />
  At the absolute desperation in her eyes, he realized this was no game for Mattie.

  He needed to tread softly.

  “I have no plans to hurt Annabeth. Quite the contrary. I plan to do whatever it takes to care for her and keep her safe.”

  “You can’t make that guarantee.”

  Oh, but he could. Lifting Mattie’s chin with a curled finger, he looked her straight in the eye. “I give you my word.”

  “Ridiculous man. You think I’d fall for that false sincerity in your voice?” Lips trembling, Mattie jerked away from him. “Mark my words, Hunter Mitchell, when boys start sniffing around your daughter, you’ll understand.”

  If any boy came near Sarah...

  The idea was so horrible to contemplate, he visibly shuddered. “I understand now.”

  “If you two are quite done pretending I’m not in the room,” Annabeth said, “I’d like to speak for myself.”

  Simultaneously, he and Mattie swung around and silenced her with a look.

  “Fine, fight it out among yourselves.” She scowled at them both, then sank in a nearby chair.

  Satisfied Annabeth was momentarily out of the conversation, Hunter turned his attention back to Mattie. He caught her staring at her daughter with unmistakable pain in her eyes, as if she loved her child more than life itself and was rendered helpless under the weight of the emotion.

  Hunter knew that feeling. From the moment Sarah had leaped into his arms last week, he’d been torn between a complicated mix of fear and desperation, hope and love. Such love. Only since meeting his daughter was Hunter beginning to understand the Lord’s command to love as He loved.

  Annabeth had inspired him, too, in ways he couldn’t yet define. Every day she slipped beneath his well-laid defenses, creating an emotional bond he’d never experienced with a woman before. He had no idea what to do with his feelings for her, or how to address his growing attachment. All he knew was that he had to make matters right with her mother.

  “Look, Mattie, no more games, no more wordplay. I came here today to assure you that I—”

  “No, no. Don’t you dare use that low, reasonable tone with me.” Mattie’s face went cold, her voice turned sharp. “Nothing has changed since the last time we had this conversation.”